#warning the following tags will turn into a novel

[only-one-brain-cell]

“None of which we had access to for security.” Oh really? Then how the fuck was JJ able to play Scrabble with her then?????

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), cussing (bkg-typical), not many warnings needed for this one chat

words. 1.3k (i had to split it so that the chapter wouldn't be a whole ass novel. also for pacing purposes :0)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 8, part 9

Your eyes lazily trail the movement of the colleague you speak to at most twice a year as they give a presentation up front, the words they’re uttering slowly turning into a slew of blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory like in that TikTok you saw before falling into a fitted sleep the night prior.

Without you noticing, November has finally rolled around, and with it came one of the most important meetings involving Bakugou, Kirishima, and the agency’s department heads aimed at preparing the leaders for the year-end processes and reports.

The very meeting that you find yourself barely getting through at this exact moment.

Tanaka, the said colleague, seems like he’s explaining a pie graph about Dynamight, Red Riot, and their sidekicks’ stats, you think.

You shake your head in an attempt to bring your attention back to what’s in front of you, but your efforts appear to have been in vain as your mind, once again, drifts to the past, and you find yourself mulling over what Mina said two weeks ago.

It’s something that hasn’t left your mind since then, trailing behind you like a damned poltergeist who doesn’t know when to let up.

And as much as you’d hate to admit it, it’s caused considerable confusion on your part, and you don’t like how it may have inadvertently affected how you act around Bakugou, too.

You’re more fidgety, now, and you’ve since beaten your record of how fast you get flustered and stuttery around the man. Although if he’s noticed this humiliating, inexplicable change in your behavior, he isn’t showing it.

At least, not by much.

His gazes have been lingering for a beat too long whenever you stammered your response instead of doing so calmly like you usually do…

“Hey.”

You sit up in sudden attention, dizziness instantly hitting you from having been violently pulled from your reverie. You look at Bakugou, who’s staring you down from the end of the table, and scan the area around him, only to realize that everybody has apparently left, leaving the two of you alone in the conference room.

“Wha—”

“You weren’t listening, were you?”

You feel yourself flush in embarrassment. Guilty.

He shakes his head in what you think is disapproval, stacking the documents in front of him in a neat pile. You take that as a cue to follow suit, gathering your folders in front of you and hurriedly standing up to beeline out of the room.

The last thing you need is for these glass doors to magically lock you in, too.

But you don’t even get to reach the doorway, ass barely lifted a breadth away from your cushy office chair when he speaks up.

“I overheard you in the breakroom.”

You freeze in your tracks, lifting your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Earlier this morning. You said—” he pauses, eyes shifting to your rear, “Sit back down, dumbass. Your knees are gonna kill you if you keep this up.”

You’re about to retort with a comeback when it dawns on you that the guy has a point, so you begrudgingly take a seat.

“As I said,” he shoots you a pointed look, “I overheard you saying you didn’t have plans for next week.”

“Next week?”

“Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, yeah,” you absentmindedly scratch your right cheek. “My family will be on vacation and all my close friends have plans with their relatives.”

One of his eyebrows raises in question, “And you won’t be tagging along?”

You shrug, “I don’t want to impose on my friends, and being with my family on a holiday isn’t exactly the most relaxing experience.”

Bakugou merely hums in response, seeming as if he’s pondering something in his head. Unable to sustain his gaze, you opt for looking around the room instead, suddenly finding the plain, gray ceiling wildly interesting.

A few moments pass before you decide that yes, this silence is going to kill you if you don’t get the fuck out now.

You lift yourself from your chair, “Well, I should get go—”

“Come over.”

As if you’re in a slapstick comedy, you, once again, freeze. “W-what?”

He clears his throat, “C-come over, to my parents’. For thanksgiving.”

You stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before his eyes gravitate toward your rear again, only this time you plop back down before he can order you to reseat yourself.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow…”

He sighs like he’s teaching you basic ass mathematics and you’re not getting it. “The old hag has been begging me to let them meet you ever since, you know…”

The news of you two “dating” broke out. Right.

You mentally slap yourself for forgetting Bakugou had parents who would eventually also catch wind of your silly little dating scandal.

At the thought of meeting the people who raised Bakugou, your throat suddenly feels a bit too dry. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” you manage to get out.

It’s one thing to go and pretend to be Bakugou’s girlfriend in front of the man’s fucking parents, it’s another to do so in this state that you’ve been in ever since that get-together with his friend group. You don’t exactly know why, but you’ve been fundamentally reconfigured since that fated night, and whatever the fuck is causing it, you’re sure won’t mix well with being in the same room as Bakugou’s parents. That, on top of having to act all lovey-dovey with their son around them.

You’re about to defend your case as to why they should just scrap the idea entirely when Bakugou responds.

“It’s either that or she visits us here in the agency.”

Your jaw drops, “Is that a threat?”

He draws his lips in a thin line, shaking his head. “It’s an ultimatum.”

“That’s more or less the same thing,” you counter.

“My mom likes to play with the shitty technicalities,” he retaliates, tone abrasive as ever.

You can only gawk at the guy as he shifts in his seat rather quite uncomfortably.

Is he seriously going along with his mom’s wishes now?

What happened to the ever-notorious Bakugou who just goes for what he wants without minding everyone else?

You study the man for a beat, weighing your options in your head. It’s obvious, which of the two is the wiser option. It’s a matter of going for where there are fewer pairs of eyes watching you and Bakugou’s every movement. But the real question is, why do you have to choose in the first place?

“I don’t understand,” you start, “Why can’t you just tell your mom that we’re not ready to do the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing yet?”

“Why don’t you be on the receiving end of her fucking nagging, hah?” he snaps, voice defensive and loud enough to make you jump.

“Okay, okay,” you immediately concede, tone placating, not willing for this to escalate into a fight. The last thing you need is for somebody in the building to overhear you, think you’re having a lovers’ quarrel or whatever the fuck they call it, and run to the media to gush all about it.

You’ve had enough media exposure to last you for a lifetime, thank you very much.

Chancing one last glance at your boss, you find him staring a hole into the pile of papers directly in front of him, a prominent scowl etched on his face.

His mom’s nagging must be weighing him down more than you thought.

As you study the visibly bothered man, you’re acutely aware of all the fight evaporating from your body, and you eventually find yourself slouching in your seat in what you reluctantly identify as defeat.

“…What’s your parents’ address?”

“Don’t bother,” he almost instantly replies. “I’ll pick you up.”

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @beab19 @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lovra974 @chelbyisbord @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69 @lemuhr @rosemarygalaxy @iluv-ace @eyesforbkg @carpe000diem @shushbruv @matchat3a @ttalgi @bakunianadecorazon @the2ndl @keiscwsz @onlyisaa @aizawa19

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 they make such a huge difference! have a lovely day ( ˘ ³˘)

[lechrts]

Truly Madly Deeply. ✷ Ollie Bearman

Pairing: Ollie Bearman x Bff!reader

Summary: When a spontaneous evening hangout with your best friend Ollie reveals everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

Word Count: 2.5k

Vera’s Voice! Truly Madly Deeply by One Direction is the song ever so argue with the wall!!!! Hiiiii :3 first tumblr post ever. If it’s bad. Sorry. Idk.

& Hello. Shoutout Enya. Shoutout Bea.

Mindlessly reading a book in your swinging net chair hung in your room, your legs were crossed beneath your body as you hopelessly read about childhood soulmates.

Your heartbeat was gradually beating faster as you approached the page where the boy finally realizes he's been in love with his best friend the entire time.

Sitting at the edge of your seat, your body fluttered with butterfly’s, envying every single line your eyes followed among the pages.

But it’s too bad you were interrupted.

“Hi!” Ollie barged in unannounced, catching you so off guard that you stumble out of your seat and fall onto the floor.

You sat there for a brief second, trying to process and understand what was happening. Who just came into your room unannounced and why does it sound like Ollie? He wasn’t supposed to be back for another week? He had told you the night before he would be with Prema for a few more days..

But then it clicked— it really was him?

Looking up, you were met with Ollie’s signature grin, his curly hair seemed slightly damp, presumably from a shower. He was leaning against your doorframe like he had every right to be there, as if barging into your space without warning was completely justified.

“Miss me?” He teased, stepping inside without waiting for an answer.

You scrambled to your feet, heart hammering in your chest—not because of the book anymore, but because of him.

“What the hell?” You managed to sputter, clutching the paperback like it might steady you. “You’re supposed to be in Italy?!” He laughed. "Well, I lied. So I can surprise you."

Before you could even process the weight of his words, he was already closing the space between you, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, familiar hug. It was so him—effortless, comforting, grounding. And, as always, it left you speechless.

You found yourself hugging him back instinctively, burying your face in his sweatshirt, which smelled faintly of pastries and whatever cologne he always wore. For a moment, it was easy to forget the world outside of this.

Just you and Ollie, like it had always been.

“I've missed you,” He murmured against the top of your head, his voice soft.

Your stomach flipped. His words were light, nonchalant, but there was something in the way he said you that made you pause.

"Missed you too." You smiled.

As you pulled away, Ollie’s arms dropped to his sides, but the grin on his face only grew wider. His eyes flicked down to the book still clutched in your hands, his curiosity piqued.

“What are you reading?” He asked, leaning a little closer, his head tilting just enough to catch a glimpse of the cover.

You shook your head. “Nothing important!” Your voice was obviously guilty of something, your hands clutching the book tighter as you took a step back.

Ollie's brow quirked, his grin turning mischievous. “Nothing?"

You huffed, knowing you weren’t going to get out of this easily. “It’s just… a romance novel…”

His eyes lit up at that, a teasing smile turning downright devilish. “Oh, now I have to know,” He said, lunging forward with zero warning.

“Don’t you dare!” You shrieked, spinning around to shield the book, but it was too late. Ollie was faster, plucking it clean out of your hands and jumping back like a kid who’d just won a game of tag.

“Ollie!” You groaned, reaching for it, but he held it high above his head, flipping open to a random page.

His eyes scanned the lines quickly, and then he froze, his grin somehow widening further. “‘The boy looked at her like she hung the stars in the sky,’” He read aloud, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. Then, he glanced down at you, his expression ridiculously smug. “What’s this? A little wishful thinking?” "You're such an ass! Please stop." You were more than embarrassed at this point. You were mortified.

Ollie wasn’t done teasing. “You’re blushing,” He pointed out, his tone light but insufferably smug.

“I am not!” You snapped, snatching the book back from his hands and threw it across your room.

“Oh, you totally are. Don’t worry, though.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing some huge secret. “If it helps, I don’t think childhood soulmates are that unrealistic.”

Your heart stuttered, his words sending a confusing wave of butterflies through your stomach. But before you could respond—or even fully process what he’d just said—he straightened, clapping his hands together.

“Anyway,” He said, his tone abruptly casual, “We’re wasting precious daylight here.”

You blinked at him, completely thrown off. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on.” He grabbed your wrist, gently pulling you toward the door.

“Wait—what? No! I never agreed to go anywhere!” You tried to dig your heels into the carpet, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best. Resistance was futile when it came to Ollie, and you both knew it.

“You don’t have to agree,” He said breezily, tugging you along like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’m your best friend. I’m basically entitled to hijack your evening whenever I feel like it.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, reluctantly following him.

“Yeah, but you love me for it.”

“Debatable.”

By the time you reached the stairs, you’d given up the fight entirely. At least you were dressed enough to leave the house—not that Ollie would have cared either way.

“Can I at least know where we’re going?” you asked as you descended the stairs, your voice laced with exasperation.

“Going somewhere?” Yourmom called from the family room, where she was cuddled up on the couch with your dad.

“Just the beach,” Ollie answered with an easy smile, not missing a beat.

Your mom chuckled, shaking her head fondly. “Why did I even ask? Have fun, you two!”

As soon as you were out of the house, Ollie released your wrist and started walking ahead, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Slow down! What’s your rush?” you asked, jogging slightly to catch up with him.

He slowed his pace to let you fall into step beside him, the warm summer air wrapping around you both. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting the street in hues of gold and orange.

“No rush, you've just got slow legs,” He said casually, glancing over at you with a grin that told you otherwise.

You rolled your eyes. "Not everyone is a high-performance racing driver." A scoff escaped from your lips.

He chuckled at your jab, his grin only widening. "And not everyone has the luxury of doing nothing all day."

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. “It is not nothing,” You said, nudging your shoulder into his. “I did a lot. You know, during your absence.”

The way he raised an eyebrow caught your attention. "Oh? And what was that exactly?" He asked, his voice dripping with playful curiosity.

You shrugged, not wanting to admit how much you’d missed his company. “You know, homework, mostly. Reading.” You grinned slightly, waving your hand dismissively, though it was clear from the slight flush creeping up your neck that there was more to it.

The conversation drifted into silence for a moment as you both kept walking down the street. The sky above you was gradually darkening, the golden hue of the sunset slipping into soft pinks and purples.

You glanced at him, catching that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes, but this time, it felt like it held something more.

Was he acting this carefree to mask something? Was it just his usual self, or was there something he was hiding?

You didn’t know, but the two of you continued walking. The way his stride matched yours, the subtle glances he stole when he thought you weren’t paying attention—it all felt too intentional to be just casual.

You both arrived at an ice cream shop that sat near the shore, and Ollie was quick to order your favorite flavor—Stracciatella. It was such a small thing, but it made your heart skip. He knew you too well.

Soon, you followed him toward the shore, settling down on the rocky sand, the two of you enjoying your ice cream as the sun began to sink lower into the sky. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing filled the space between you, and for a moment, it felt like time had slowed.

The casual silence between you and Ollie was comforting, but it didn’t stop the undercurrent of tension that lingered. You could feel his presence beside you, the warmth of his shoulder just brushing against yours. But neither of you said anything. It was almost like you didn’t need to.

You glanced at him again. There was something unspoken in the air—something he wasn’t saying, but you knew. You didn’t have to hear it to feel it. Ollie was always so easygoing, but now, there was a quiet heaviness in his gaze that you hadn’t noticed before.

Without a word, he gently draped his arm around you. It was the kind of gesture that had become second nature to him, but tonight it felt different—weighted with something unspoken. You leaned into him slightly, the warmth of his touch grounding you, but there was an undeniable tension in the air, thick enough that you could almost taste it. Neither of you spoke, but both of you felt the quiet, pulsing energy between you that had always been there but was now somehow heavier.

You didn’t look at him—you couldn’t, really. If you did, you were certain you wouldn’t be able to stop the fluttering in your chest. Instead, your gaze remained fixed on the fading light of the sunset, trying to steady your breath. But Ollie, ever perceptive, seemed to sense your unease.

After a moment, he spoke softly, breaking the silence, his voice carrying the same calm, measured tone it always did, but there was something in the way he said it—something that made you turn your attention to him, even before he continued.

“There’s been something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about for a while.”

You looked at him, curiosity piqued, but you stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue. He kept his gaze on the horizon, his voice softer now, almost as if speaking the words aloud made them more real.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” He said, his words barely above the sound of the waves. “More than I should, maybe.”

Your breath hitched, heart skipping a beat. “Thinking about me?” You echoed, not sure if you were imagining it.

“Yeah,” Ollie said, glancing over at you, his eyes serious but soft. “Especially, when I'm away." He let out a sigh from his nose, "Evert race weekend, every meeting, every day, I can’t stop thinking about you." "Ollie.." He ignored your attempted interruption, wanting to pour his heart out first. "I could be in the middle of complete chaos, but all I would really want is for you to at least be there—to be the one I can hug and celebrate with, or even be there for you because I always miss your important events.” He was rambling.

“No matter what’s happening, it’s you that’s always on my mind.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, his words sinking deep into you. He wasn’t just talking about the races; he was talking about you. About how much he wanted you by his side, how much you meant to him.

“And every time, when the day is all over,” He continued, his voice growing more confident, “I just wish you were at least there next to me. All the time. Just... sharing everything with me. You know?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your racing heartbeat. You had always been there for Ollie, cheering him on from home, or occasionally on the sidelines if you had a break from schooling to join him at a race, but you never imagined this—never imagined that he was feeling this way too.

“You know I’m always here for you, Ollie,” You said softly, leaning in a little closer, your voice barely above a whisper. Although his message was clear, a smidge of uncertainty still lingered.

He smiled, his eyes locking with yours, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I know. But... it doesn't feel right yet? Not when I don’t have you the way I want.”

“The way you want?” You echoed softly, your brow furrowing slightly, trying to make sense of the weight of his confession.

He nodded, his gaze never wavering from yours. There was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, but beneath it, you could see the genuine emotions he was holding back, the ones he wasn’t used to showing. “I keep thinking that maybe there's a possibility to be... something more. But every time I want to say it, I’m not sure if it’s the right moment or if you feel the same way.”

You felt a rush of warmth in your chest, something between excitement and nervousness. The way he was speaking—so raw and open—made your heart race. You had been waiting for this, but never expected it to come like this.

“And what do you mean by more?” You asked, your voice barely more than a breath, your eyes searching his. Ollie nodded slowly. "Like.. being your boyfriend?" He said nervously, slowly glancing at you, looking into your eyes.

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat as his words hung in the air, so simple yet so full of meaning. The vulnerability in his voice made your heart thud against your chest. He was sitting there, uncertain, yet laying his feelings bare for you to see.

“Really?” You whispered, barely able to believe it. The question had been sitting on the tip of your tongue for so long, but hearing him say it out loud made it feel real. Made everything feel real.

He looked at you, his face flushed, eyes filled with a mix of hope and hesitation. “I know it might sound mad, but… I just… always think about the idea of us. Maybe I’ve been afraid to say it because I didn’t know if you felt the same way. But it doesn’t feel right, just being friends when… when all I really want is more than that.”

Your mind was about to explode. You had thought about this moment for so long, imagined it in countless ways, but never imagined it could feel this raw, this real. Your heart was pounding in your chest, the weight of his words making everything around you seem to slow down.

“Ollie,” You whispered, your voice trembling just slightly. You didn’t have to think twice, didn’t need to wonder if this was what you wanted. You had known for so long that it was him.

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you interlocked your arm around his. “It's about time you said something."

He smiled, his lips twitching into a nervous grin, his eyes still locked with yours, searching for something—some sign of what you were feeling.

But you didn’t even need to search. You already knew what you felt. You had known for so long, even when you tried to convince yourself otherwise. You took a deep breath, your chest tightening with the weight of everything you had been carrying.

“I’ve always loved you,” You said softly, almost like a confession you had been keeping locked away for too long. You felt the words settle in the space between you, like they belonged there. “More than anything.” “Truly, madly, deeply.”

comments , likes , & reblogs are appreciated ! ^_^ had fun writing this one even tho i’m not the biggest fan :P

tags! @planetpedri & @halfwayhearted ofc.

[aw1tht33tha]

Feeling feral enough, darling?

Astarion gets turned into a delicious whimpering puddle (and a bit of a feral animal) with the powerful magic of sensual femdom, pegging and lots of love. Just the way this man deserves.

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Pairing: Spawn Astarion/F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags/Warnings: 18+, BDSM, femdom, power play, bondage, dirty talk, teasing, edging, cunnilingus, blowjob, pegging, rough PinV sex, body worship, sensory deprivation (sight/touch), praise kink, sensitive elf ears, orgasm denial, biting, scratching, blood drinking, high heels, fetish, fluff and sass, two horny sadistic assholes in love, established relationship, more or less cannon compliant, cat in the end

Read on AO3 or indulge right here:

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Astarion’s mind is spinning these instructions on repeat as he opens the front door and enters your deceivingly quiet home:

Take a bath.

Enter the bedroom naked.

Kneel next to the bed.

Put a blindfold on.

Wait.

Surrendering control wasn’t novel for a vampire spawn. However, giving it up fully and willingly for shared pleasure with his lover felt deeply alluring, but a little intimidating still. Astarion is too used to lavishing others with attention and keeping his grip tight on the reins out of necessity, rather than his own desire. But it should be different now. The newfound safety of your relationship gifted him a chance to learn letting go and truly enjoying himself for the first time in what seemed like a fucking eternity.

He feels slightly anxious as he undresses and discards clothes on the floor, crimson eyes locked on a steamy bath with bubbles, prepared lovingly in time for his arrival.

It’s been almost a year since both Cazador and Netherbrain fell to their deaths. The bond you’ve built together since then felt stronger than ever. No masters to serve, just following your own hearts. And yet, worries that pain and disgust may flood back from the depths of his past again gnaw at the back of his mind. He wants this to be perfect. To take a leap of faith and feel good and present, blissed out with you tonight. Free of his demons. For good.

“This is what I want, isn’t it?”

Take a bath.

He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes for a few seconds trying to settle his nerves, then steps into the bathtub to clean off blood, sweat and dirt of his last bounty kill. Warm water embraced his cool body and relaxed sore muscles almost instantly, freeing his mind to reminisce about more pleasant things from the recent past.

Being an adventurous “hero” proved to be a surprisingly fun and profitable pastime, quite deliciously filling too if you happen to be a vampire. “Turns out nobody really cares about the murder… as long as you murder the right people.” Astarion recalls his joke at a party with your group of weirdo friends and it turns the corners of his lips up a little.

He starts making quick and thorough work of getting himself clean with fragrant soap, shampoo and conditioner. Pleasant as it is to soak and indulge in a self-care routine, it seemed just a bit cruel to make you wait for this perfect body for too long.

A few minutes pass and Astarion is out of the tub and sufficiently dried off - damp silver locks falling charmingly out of order and white towel wrapped scandalously low around his hips. He grabs the bathroom door handle confident enough to proceed with the next step.

Enter the bedroom naked.

“Right, naked” – he freezes. With one swift motion towel flies off his lean body to join the pile of its cotton siblings stacked in the corner. He crosses a dark corridor, anticipation starting to build up in his chest. Your shared bedroom reveals itself in all its intimate glory and comfort.

Closed heavy blinds, fresh dark silken sheets on a spacious bed, fluffed pillows arranged in an unusually orderly manner and almost ridiculous amounts of candles bathing the room in gentle warmth, pleasant scents, and dancing lights. So very you and him. The top of the bedside table appears busier than most days, displaying a carefully lined up selection of sex toys and ropes. All quite familiar to Astarion, yet he doesn’t know when and how exactly any of those are going to be used tonight and it is positively intriguing.

The only sound in the room is produced by candle wicks softly crackling in the background. Astarion takes a moment to sink in the atmosphere and looks around.

Kneel next to the bed.

His gaze stops at a big red pillow invitingly laying in the middle of the room close to the bed. A simple black blindfold is resting on top. He circles around and slowly lowers himself down on his knees. No one is commanding a vampire to do so except his own little voice. He yearns for your presence already and picks up a blindfold.

“Curious how we got here,” Astarion thinks as he gently runs his fingers along the soft black fabric, grateful for all the time you’ve spent together up until this moment. How it literally turned his undead life around and made him experience everything he thought was impossible or unreachable. Everything he thought wasn’t meant for him – freedom, salvation, friendship and… love.

Especially love. Somehow, he found himself not only caring deeply for you, but slowly nurturing some love and acceptance for himself. A truly unexpected turn of events.

Put a blindfold on.

The blindfold slides over his beautiful eyes and Astarion finds himself depraved from one of the prime senses to rely on. An exciting image of you invades his mind and he starts wondering if you are going to wear anything at all tonight.

His brain naturally shifts focus to what he can hear, touch, taste, and smell instead.

Your voice. What are you going to ask of him tonight? Will you let him make you scream his name?

Your skin. So soft and warm, he craves to glide his fingers all over your body right this instant.

Your scent. That unique blend of indescribable “you” with a hint of perfume or whatever fragrant skin care you just couldn’t stop stealing from his shelf like the adorable fetishist you are.

Your blood. That sweet life essence you are kind enough to share, keeping him hopelessly addicted from the first bite.

And wait.

Wait for your arrival and then dive into the unknown. Well, not that unknown since you both discussed your desires a few days prior, leaving just a touch of mystery on the details. “Gale of Waterdeep” was chosen to serve as your shared safe word, cause who else possessed an ability to kill the mood faster than a walking encyclopaedia?

This is, without a doubt, the sweetest torture for Astarion so far in the night. Just kneeling still and ready, wondering which of the obscene scenarios generated by his mind in your absence was going to become a reality. He did exactly what you asked him to do already, and he couldn’t wait for more.

It isn’t too long before his head instinctively turns towards the sound of steps approaching the room. A measured, confident pace accentuated by an unmistakable clack of heels meeting wooden boards sends a little shiver up his spine.

Finally.

You open the door without haste and your eyes are met with probably the best sight you could ever imagine:

A devastatingly beautiful elf is kneeling at your mercy, exposed and blindfolded, his perfect marble skin bathed in candlelight. Soft silver locks allowed to arrange themselves with less restraint than usual. His cock is hard for you already, twitching and leaking precum as you take your time to shut the door and take a few steps closer. His chest is heaving in anticipation, those beautiful tender lips parted slightly, both arms digging through his own thighs not daring to touch himself where he is dying to be touched right now.

Astarion looks properly riled up by his own imagination already. Letting him marinate and fight against his own impulsive nature worked even better than you anticipated. You shake off a strong temptation to sabotage the whole scene and dive down to devour him right where he is. It would be a crime to end the session so soon and you find the strength in yourself to stick to your plan of taking him completely apart piece by piece.

“Hello, my sweet,” your flirty voice is barely above a breathy whisper, and he can tell you are saying it through a wide smile without even needing to see your face.

A raspy “I missed you so much,” is all Astarion can manage to reply as his nose catches intoxicating mix of pulsing blood in your veins, arousal building up between your thighs, and surely his own perfume you’ve stolen again as you position your hips mere inches away from his gorgeous face.

“Did you? How about a proper greeting, then?”

You gently raise his chin with a curled index finger and run your thumb across soft parted lips making him gasp and desperately lean into your touch. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his own fingers lightly grazing the pillow, crawling their way towards your feet in the darkness.

“No touching until I say so.” Your warning makes him slightly raise his hands in defeat and put them back on his thighs. He manages to behave while your thumb invades his mouth to meet with a hungry vampire tongue, even when your other hand caresses his neck and jawline in admiration. It’s the feather light tracing of his pointy ear from earlobe to the tip that makes Astarion shudder and send his seeking arms forward again.

No, he won’t be able to keep his hands away from you or himself at this rate, so you stop and take a step back as soon as his fingers make contact with the tips of your shoes. Astarion lets out a soft disappointed moan, his body leaning forward craving any attention you would graciously descend upon him.

“Please, I’m burning to touch you, my love.” He is on the steady path of falling apart already.

Delightful.

“You’ll have your chance if you’re patient enough. Wrists together behind your back.”

He reluctantly obliges your command. You reappear behind him with a short red rope to lean down and restrain him with a simple double column tie. That should take care of his mischievous rogue hands for now and you circle around to face him again.

“Now, where were we?”

Before Astarion has a chance to come back with anything at all, your right foot lightly grazes against his left knee and you drag the blunt nose of your pump up his leg, ghosting over the aching length of his cock almost as if by accident. His abdominal muscles clench and he lets out a shaky sigh, baring his fangs. Observing this man’s reactions to teasing is quickly becoming your new favourite form of entertainment. You rest your foot on his upper thigh applying just enough pressure to make the heel sting slightly, keeping him sitting low.

“You may worship whatever you can reach with your lips.”

He eagerly leans forward, and his mouth starts travelling up your inner thigh kissing, licking, nibbling on your smooth skin like a starved man. Payback time, darling, Astarion thinks reaching that place where your leg connects to pelvis and caressing you agonisingly slow with his firm tongue, so close to your sex you almost wobble. You run your fingers through his white curls gripping firmly to find stability.

Astarion quickly realises you are not wearing any panties, so he keeps on leaving tender kisses and passionate licks all around your folds and clit, never giving you more than his hot breath over the very centre. He knows exactly how to drive you dripping wet and desperate, pussy clenching over nothing. Difference is, he is not really in control this time, so you intend to serve him a reminder and tilt his head back, pulling hard on silver locks.

“I think you’re missing a spot,” you manage in between intensified breaths.

“Sorry, darling. If only I could see what I was doing,” he sounds almost convincingly apologetic, but a tiny smug smile gives him away. Astarion knows exactly what he’s doing to you. He won’t be getting away with anything easy tonight, though… despite his impressive arsenal of ways to melt your body and mind into a whimpering puddle.

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you.” You cup his perfect face gently before adding, “stick your tongue out for me, gorgeous.”

Your confident yet warm tone makes him obey before even thinking. This feels refreshingly fun and liberating - not having to think much and simply relying on you to lead this dance to ecstasy however you desire.

You bring his face closer and roll your hips forward forcing his tongue to part the folds and finally get to the most sensitive parts of your sex. A much anticipated sensation hits you almost like a jolt of electricity and you have to dig your fingers in his neck and shoulders to keep your balance.

“Now, be a good boy and make me come.” You push the words out quickly before starting to lose yourself on Astarion’s skilled tongue. He is lapping your cunt devotedly, flexing muscles against the restrains, moaning softly. No toying around, witty remarks or aiding with fingers, just completely lost in eating you out with passion.

It doesn’t take much time for him at all to tighten up the coil of pleasure in your lower belly and for you to release it, holding on to him firmly as your legs dangerously give in to the weakness. Gods below, these damn heels don’t help either and you barely manage to ride out your orgasm not collapsing down.

You take a few moments to unwrap your arms from Astarion and steady your breath a little. “You did so well, my love… giving me exactly… what I asked for.”

As a reward, you take off the blindfold and carelessly toss it on the floor, the elf below you then greedily drags his gaze up your body. You are wearing nothing but high heels and one of his slutty black shirts you shamelessly snatched from his wardrobe earlier. Unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, fabric loosely dripping down your back and ass, it’s not really covering anything in front. His burning eyes meet yours. “Anything for you, beautiful.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Stand up.” 

You take a small step back and let him rise on his feet. Usually, Astarion would tower over you being a few inches taller, but the heels keep you almost the same height letting your eyes level with his. He finds himself enjoying this new perspective.

You let your nails and fingertips gently explore under his jaw, down his neck and over the clavicles. Then you close the gap between your lips inviting Astarion for a heated kiss, tasting your own deliciousness still lingering on his tongue. With his arms still tied he can’t do anything but struggle against the rope and desperately try to melt his whole naked body against yours seeking familiar warmth or any form of friction you would allow.

You decide to give in to this sweetness and lower your hands to pull your lover closer by the waist. Astarion uses this opportunity to push into the kiss even more and grind himself against you, leaving trails of sticky precum all over your belly. It’s too easy to get drunk on his eagerness and you have to peel yourself away before you’re too far gone. There is much more to do after all.

“A good little vampling like you deserves a treat, you know?” You whisper in his ear mischievously as you nudge him to take a few steps back towards the bed.

He sits down watching your every move through a haze of lust. You circle the edge of the bed and sit behind, brushing your lips against his ear as you half-whisper a new command. “I need you to get on bed fully and lay down on your back for me. Can I trust you to behave well and not touch anything you shouldn’t?”

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you hear sincerity in his reply, and set his arms free for now. Astarion wastes no time doing what he was asked to. You ditch your shoes and crawl on top of him straddling his waist. He tentatively lifts his forearms from the sheets anticipating you to restrain him again.

“Well, look who’s finally playing along,” you smile, playfully drawing random patterns on his chest with your fingertips. “Being tied up growing on you?”

“It’s you. Surrendering to you like this is growing on me,” his soft breathy confession travels right to your core. You bring his right wrist up to your lips and kiss it gently.

“Oh, I think you will love what I’m about to do next,” you give him a smug look and stretch the arm you were holding towards the upper corner of the mattress. Reaching under the pillows at the headboard you produce a thick leather handcuff connected to the bedframe with a rope. 

Astarion lets you close and secure it around his wrist with an excited sigh. “Gods, you really planned everything out.” 

You throw him another confident smile and repeat the same steps with the other wrist.

There is now a beautifully splayed vampire on your bed and it’s time for the main course. You shuffle back slightly, spread your thighs and press his legs down with your shins making it much harder for him to move his hips. You lower yourself down and start worshipping his exquisite body, letting your hands and mouth freely explore and trace all his lines and curves. Broad chest and shoulders, sensitive neck and nipples, firm abs, narrow hips – no part is left without your thorough attention. You deeply enjoy discovering every possible reaction he can give you while you caress and scratch, kiss and nibble, lick and breathe down his flawless ivory skin.

His hitched breaths and hisses gradually evolve into soft quiet moans the longer it continues and further down you go. When your arms and hot tongue leisurely reach his hips, your hair and the collar of the shirt start lightly brushing against his aching neglected erection. He can't stay more or less composed anymore.

"P-please, love," his urgent plea makes you raise your head and catch his longing gaze, pupils blown wide.

"Hmm?" You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow, waiting for more elaborate begging.

Astarion doesn’t wait for you to nudge him further. “Please, I need you. Your hands, your mouth, anything...”

"Like this?" You position your tongue at the base of his hard girthy cock and glide it up, savouring his taste, feeling it twitch against your touch. You pay extra attention to the pale pink tip, suckling on it gently and cupping his balls with your hand.

"Mhmm... yes, please… more," his purring approval reaches your ears, and you dive down on his length, taking in as much as you can on the first go before sliding back up and releasing him with a little pop. Astarion is quickly becoming a writhing mess as you repeat the pattern a few more times.

Your movements are slow and deliberate as you alternate between hand strokes, sucking or just teasingly kissing all around his delicious cock and balls. You are not being consistent with your pace or type of stimulation on purpose, attempting to drag out his pleasure as long as possible. It only works somewhat effectively as he is obviously on a steady ascend towards his climax no matter how chaotic you are in toying with him. There is just too much pent-up energy aching to burst out.

His head is slowly tilting back, erection almost rock-hard, and erratic exhales start breaking into moans. This is your cue. The perfect timing. You drop everything you were doing at once and pull yourself up into sitting between his legs, watching him break apart groaning and throwing his hips up in the air, finding nothing to help him finish. He was oh so close and you just denied him the much-awaited moment of bliss.

“Why must you be so cruel?” He loudly whimpers, shutting his eyes and rubbing his feet against the sheets in frustration.

“Cruel, my dear?” You climb over him and slide off the bed to pour yourself a glass of water from the pitcher. “I’m merely serving a fantasy. You know the words if it’s getting too...”

“No!” He interrupts and his wide red eyes meet yours. He adds a much softer, “please continue.”

You take a few sips of water and rest the glass back on a bedside table, inspecting the toys on display. You go for a small bottle of thick lube, a girthy glass butt plug and a strapless strap-on.

“Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? As I recall…”

You theatrically clear your throat to proceed with your best “Astarion” impression as you climb back on a bed armed with new tools to ruin him.

“I want you to torture me with pleasure, darling! Tease and edge me to your heart’s delight. Make me go feral for the sweetest release by the end of it…”

You prop one of the pillows under his ass for extra comfort and position yourself in between his slender legs. Then you gently tap him to spread wide open, knees bent high in the air. You generously coat your fingers in lube and start teasing his entrance and continue quoting him almost word for word.

“I know it may not be easy to achieve, unless you are, well, a seasoned professional like me,” you pause to imitate his high-pitched giggle. “But please make your best attempt.”

Astarion is taken aback by the sheer audacity of you mocking him like that, and can only watch your performance with his jaw open. You bend over and place the weight of your body on his chest getting your lips closer to whisper in his ear:

“…or something like that.” 

Your index finger effortlessly slips inside, earning you his sweet gasp.

There is no rush as you slowly curl your digit inside him, kissing his neck and playfully nibbling on his earlobe. Soon enough, second finger joins the first and you feel Astarion’s calves brushing against your backside as he relaxes into the feeling of being stretched out. You raise yourself on one elbow to find his lips and start kissing tenderly, noses brushing together. You are eager to share just how much you’re pleased with him without any words.

He hums sweetly and wraps his legs around your waist when you carefully add a third finger in and push a little deeper inside. His cock is leaking precum on his abs, twitching against your lower belly.

“I’m so ready for you,” he rasps quietly, and you feel a rush of wetness, igniting your desire to give him everything you can. What did you do to deserve this world-endingly beautiful man melting under you like this?

You raise up and slide your fingers out carefully. While giving his shaft lazy pumps with one hand, you are fitting in the strap-on with the other. Even though a strapless variety is harder to keep in place, you appreciate extra feedback and pleasure it can provide. One more coat of lube for good measure and you are ready to invade his body again.

Taking it very slowly you line up the tip of your strap with his hole and dive in inch by inch, sending shivers up his spine. You give him a couple of seconds to adjust and then push under his knees encouraging Astarion to practically fold in half as you choose your preferred angle. Time to clench your pussy and get to work.

You are rolling your hips in rhythmic deep thrusts and manage to snake one hand in between your bodies to stroke him as well. The end of the strap within rubs deliciously against your tense walls. Sweet praises leave your lips as you fuck him gently.

“Such a good boy, taking me so well.”

“You look breathtaking just like this.”

“I love making you feel good.”

Doesn’t take too long until Astarion is reduced to sweat and loud whimpers, eyes shut and completely lost in his own world of rapture. He is about to fall over the edge at any second, arms grasping at the ropes that hold him in place, legs wrapped around your waist. You are not too far behind yourself and it's extremely tempting to just keep on going until it shatters you both into pieces.

You listen closely to his telltale signs not to miss the right moment. And then you pull out and break away from him. Again. This time he almost flies off the sheets after you. The whole bed frame shakes at his attempt to escape his restraints and chase you.

“Feeling feral enough, darling?” You pant heavily and toss aside the strap, brushing away strands of hair stuck to your face. A growl and flash of fangs is all you get as a reply.

“Shhh.. shh.. I just want to feel you inside me as you come undone.” 

It almost feels like you are approaching an injured tiger as you try to get through to whatever humanity is still lingering in his brain.

“Allow me?” You show him the glass plug and he stills just enough for you to glide it inside, giving him at least some feeling of fullness back.

“Last thing I’m going to ask you to do…” You reach to free Astarion from leather cuffs while he practically burns holes in your face with a smoldering stare. “...is to fuck me however you want.”

You free up his right arm and he grabs your shoulder immediately, scrunching his own shirt roughly. Before you can even process what happened, you are pinned down on your back and have to somehow reach your arms from under him to get his other wrist. He is pushing your thighs apart urgently, lining himself as your fingers clumsily fiddle with the buckle on the other cuff.

Astarion shakes the damned thing off and holds you down in a squeezing embrace as he drives himself into your dripping wet pussy with a single powerful thrust, burying himself up to the very hilt. That hip-slapping entrance makes you see sparks and hold on to his back for dear life. Right away he sets a fast and punishing pace that makes the corners of your eyes water from intensity. His head drops to nuzzle your neck and send hot shaky breaths into your bare skin.

There is no holding back. Nothing, but pure animalistic lust as he rails you with vengeance. The sensation of being fucked helplessly like this is overwhelming and you feel him all over your sensitive spots, stretching you deep and to absolute capacity. Your legs start trembling and you are digging nails into his scarred back as he bites down on the curve where your neck meets the shoulder. And this mutual exchange of piercing pain is all it takes to finally finish you both.

You’ve never felt or heard either you or Astarion come so violently until tonight. Waves of orgasm hit you both like a screaming tsunami. If his undead vampire heart was still beating it would surely leap out of his chest right there and then, as he was spilling everything you made him hold back inside you, arms gripping even harder, fangs sinking deeply.

For a few moments it seems like you have merged into a single entity – one body and soul in a state of absolute incomprehensible mess, riding high on your climactic waves. When it’s over, you both are slowly coming back to your senses. Astarion carefully retracts his sharp canines from the wounds that guarantee to leave bruises and starts gulping your blood. His grip also softens, and you both enjoy the intimate closeness of him feeding on you for a bit, steadying your breaths. He laps and licks your puncture wounds, drawing just enough blood to make you feel a little dizzy, while satisfying his own urge to taste you.

“You alright, my love?” He is the first to check in, searching your eyes with a smidge of worry as he realises he may have been a little too wild, even by his own unhinged standards.

“I am great. This was incredible,” you manage a tired but happy smile and lazily run your fingers through his unruly curls while he pulls out of you, gets rid of the plug and tosses all the toys back on the bedside table. “How do you feel?”

“I’m not even sure how to put it all into words yet. It was liberating? Intense? Ecstatic? Certainly fun! I’ve never experienced anything like this before. You were amazing, thank you“ Astarion melts your soul with the softness of his gaze. A little pause and then it turns a little naughty. “And I will be asking for more. Although, we have to do something about your cute obsession with stealing my things before it gets out of hand.” He slightly tugs on the collar of his shirt you were wearing this whole time and smirks. You chuckle at his glowing review and pepper his face with small kisses.

Next few minutes are spent side by side cuddling, joking and whispering sweet nothings to each other, refusing to let go just yet.

“Darling, just how many lovers did you have to go through to get this good?”

“Not as many as you had to. I’m a natural, you see.”

“Oh, are you now?”

He purrs the question in your ear and playfully rolls on top, caging you with his limbs only to freeze a mere inch away from your lips, his face looking like he just remembered something mildly concerning. 

“Where is His Majesty?”

“Oh shit, I locked him in the kitchen to spare us his judging gaze.”

“You did what?!”

“Hold on, I’ll let him out.”

You almost jump out of his embrace and quickly disappear to free the forgotten cat. A few loud disapproving hisses later that smug hairless bastard enters the bedroom like he owns the place, you are merely trailing behind. His Majesty gracefully leaps on a bed wasting no time to curl up next to his favourite elf. Astarion may be the only person in the entire Faerun, you are convinced, who somehow found a way to tame that ball of absolute feline sass.

“Natural, she says. Can you believe that woman?” He coos and kisses the cat's forehead.

His Majesty throws you one last glance before melting into Astarion’s hands as you crawl back under the blanket. You can’t help but adore these two cuddling in the most sickeningly sweet way possible. Even when these brats are seemingly plotting against you. 

The last candles are blown out and the sunrise is fast approaching as all three of you settle to rest in one pile of blissful comfort, saving any worries, big or small, for later.

[woniedarlin]

A Sister's Shadow: Yang Jungwon

pairing: Jungwon x fem! reader

synopsis: You love your sisters—Yeri, Hana, and Narin—truly, and you’ve learned almost everything from them. But you can never forget the day when Yeri introduced Jungwon to your family. That day changed your life forever. Ever since you were little, you loved Jungwon. However, you couldn’t help but feel envious of the friendship between Jungwon and Yeri. But what will happen when Jungwon decides to propose to Yeri years later?

warnings: This is inspired by the 2019 movie “Little Women” and is set in the 1860s. It includes historical references to the societal roles and limitations placed on women during that period, including themes of gender inequality and the pressures of marriage for security. Reader discretion is advised. It also has mentions of injuries and kissing. Let me know if there is more!

note: Hello darlings, I couldn't help but take inspiration from the ‘’Little Women’’. Please know that it won't follow the exact events. The characters except for you and Jungwon that are mentioned in the story are just something I made up. I haven’t read the novel yet so I really apologize to those who were truly a fan of it. This is inspired by Amy and Laurie’s story, and I really hope you will like it. Happy reading!

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @13tter @chlorinecake

Growing up as the youngest, you were often shielded by your three older sisters—Narin, Hana, and Yeri—in the home you shared. You were raised in modest circumstances, finding your way through life as you learned and listened from your older sisters.

It was the afternoon when Yeri burst through the door of the home, her cheeks flushed. “Y/n, guess who I’ve brought to meet us!” she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling.

You followed Yeri into the parlor, where a 15-year-old tall boy with a cute smile stood confidently by the doorway. His dark hair was tousled from the wind, and his eyes sparkled as he glanced around the room.

“Everyone, this is Yang Jungwon,” Yeri announced proudly, gesturing towards him. “He’s just moved into the neighborhood, and I thought it would be wonderful for him to meet the family.”

Jungwon gave a smile, his dimples showing, and a nod. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” he said warmly while glancing at you and the rest of your family.

From the moment you laid eyes on him, you felt a strange fluttering in your stomach. At twelve years old, you were used to being seen as the baby of the family..but something about Jungwon’s presence made you want to prove yourself more grown-up.

As Yeri chatted animatedly with your parents, Jungwon’s attention turned to you. “So, Y/n,” he began, his tone friendly “do you enjoy living here?”

You nodded, a small smile forming. “Yes, it’s nice. We’ve lived here for as long as I can remember.”

Jungwon chuckled softly. “That’s great to hear. It must be fun having Yeri as your sister.”

“She’s the best,” you replied with a grin, glancing over at Yeri who was sharing a playful look with Jungwon.

Throughout the gathering, you couldn’t help but notice between Jungwon and Yeri. They kept exchanging glances and shared inside jokes that spoke of a deep friendship. You admired and envied it at the same time.

🌱

It was winter, and everything was covered in frost. The air was cold, and the ground was slippery with ice. You walked through the snowy streets, carrying a basket of warm bread. You hurried along, trying to stay warm.

Suddenly, your foot slipped on a patch of hidden ice and you tumbled to the ground, the basket of bread scattering across the snowy path. Pain shot through your knee as you landed hard, and tears welled up in your eyes from the shock and the sting of the fall.

‘’A-ah.. ouch‘’ Clutching your injured knee, you tried to compose yourself, but the pain was unbearable. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you struggled to get up, feeling helpless and alone.

Then, you heard footsteps approaching. Through blurry eyes, you saw Jungwon walking briskly towards you, his brow furrowed.

“Good heavens, are you hurt?” Jungwon asked urgently, kneeling beside you and gently placing a hand on your arm.

You nodded, trying to stifle your sobs. “I-I fell,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with pain.

Jungwon’s expression softened as he examined your knee. “Let me see,” he said softly, carefully lifting your pant leg to inspect the wound. “It appears you’ve taken quite a spill.”

You winced as Jungwon touched the tender skin around the scrape, but his touch was gentle. He reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a clean handkerchief, using snow to dampen it before gently cleaning the wound.

“The cold will help soothe it,” Jungwon reassured you, his voice calm and steady despite the urgency of the situation.

“It hurts terribly,” you admitted, feeling the sting intensify now that the initial shock was wearing off.

“I understand,” Jungwon replied sympathetically. “But you’ve been brave thus far.”

You managed a weak smile. “Thank you,” you murmured, feeling warm despite the icy ground beneath you.

Jungwon finished bandaging your knee with care movements. “There,” he said finally, tying a secure knot in the handkerchief. “That should suffice for now. You must take care to keep it clean and avoid putting too much weight on it.”

“Thank you,” you said sincerely, looking at him with gratitude.

Jungwon smiled warmly, helping you gather the scattered bread, and offered to carry the basket for you. “It was my pleasure, Y/n. Pray, be more cautious in the future, won’t you?” he then patted your head.

That day fully changed what you saw in Jungwon.

🌱

As the evening descended softly, you sat by the flickering fireplace, nervously twisting your hands as you watched Yeri and Jungwon prepare for a night at the theater. The thought had been on your mind all day, and you finally gathered the courage to ask.

“Yeri, could I come with you to the theater tonight?” you ventured, your voice marked by hope.

Yeri turned to you, her expression gentle yet firm. “Oh, Y/n, it’s too late for you to be out. The theaters are no place for someone your age at this hour.”

“But I’m not that young,” you protested quietly, trying to hide the disappointment that threatened to surface. “I promise I’ll behave.”

“I know you would,” Yeri replied gently, kneeling beside you and patting your nightgown affectionately. “But mama would be worried, and it’s past your bedtime.”

You nodded sadly, knowing she was right. Despite your best efforts, jealousy crept into your heart as you watched Yeri and Jungwon gather their coats and hats, preparing for an evening of entertainment.

“I understand,” you murmured, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Yeri reached out and squeezed your hand warmly. “I love you, Y/n.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at her words, and you nodded sadly. “I love you too, Yeri,” you whispered. You do love your sister so much…

Jungwon, sensing your disappointment, offered a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, Y/n. We’ll tell you all about it when we return.”

As they left, the door softly closing behind them, you sank back into the chair as you felt envy and guilt.

🌱

Summer arrived fast.

The warm sun kissed your cheeks as you sat on the sandy beach, a light breeze carrying the salty scent of the ocean. It was a rare outing with your sisters—Narin, Yeri, and Hana—and Jungwon.

Yeri and Jungwon raced along the shoreline, their laughter mingling with the sound of the waves. Bursts of gleeful shouts as they chased each other through the sand.

Meanwhile, you sat quietly on the blanket spread out on the beach, a sketchbook resting on your lap. Your eyes followed Jungwon as he ran. With each stroke of your pencil, you drew all the small details that made your heart race.

“He’s quite a sight, isn’t he?” Narin remarked, noticing your focused gaze.

You nodded silently, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. “He’s… he’s fun to draw,” you managed to say, trying to hide what you were feeling inside.

Hana, giggling beside you, leaned over to peer at your sketch. “You’ve captured him perfectly,” she commented with a smile.

You continued sketching as a few hours passed. The sun started to sink, then, Yeri and Jungwon returned with their faces flushed from their games.

Jungwon glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of your sketch. “What’s this?” he asked curiously, crouching down beside you.

You felt your heart skip a beat as he leaned closer to examine your drawing. “Um, just something I was working on,” you murmured shyly, unable to meet his gaze.

Jungwon studied the sketch intently, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re talented,” he said sincerely.

“Thank you,” you replied softly.

Yeri, noticing the exchange, chuckled playfully. “Looks like someone has a secret talent,” she teased, giving you a look.

Jungwon laughed, his eyes meeting yours. “You should draw me more often,” he said warmly, his words sending a flutter through your heart…

🌱

Years already passing by.

It was a quiet evening, the gas lamps flickering softly as twilight settled over. Yeri returned home with tear-stained cheeks, her usually vibrant spirit subdued. Your heart sank at the sight of her, knowing something had gone awry.

“What happened, Yeri?” you asked softly, your voice full of concern as you approached her.

Yeri turned to you, her eyes brimming with tears. “Oh, Y/n,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Jungwon… he tried to propose to me today.”

Your heart skipped a beat as her words hung in the air, the weight of their implications sinking in. “But… why are you crying then?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Yeri shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Because I had to refuse him,” she confessed, her voice cracking with sorrow. “I love him, but not in that way… everything would be horrid if we married.”

Your heart shattered at her words, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend the depth of her sacrifice. But more than that, you were crying because you saw how deeply Jungwon loved Yeri,

Enough wanting to marry her.

The realization pierced your heart, knowing that the love you held silently could never be.

“I’m so sorry, Yeri,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion as you pulled her into a tight embrace.

Yeri buried her face in your shoulder, her sobs mingling with yours as you held each other, sharing the weight of a love that could never be. Through tear-stained eyes, you both grieved for the dreams and hopes that had collided with harsh reality.

It was a scene of quiet sorrow, a moment frozen in time amidst the hustle and bustle of a world in transition.

“I never wanted to hurt him,” Yeri muttered softly. “But I couldn’t bear the thought of a marriage built on anything less than true love.”

“I understand,” you replied gently, your heartache echoing in your voice. “Sometimes, the hardest choices are the ones that break our hearts the most.”

🌱

Months had gone since you said goodbye to your family and went to Europe with your grandmother.

Yes, you left, but with a purpose.

There, you learned from skilled artists and improved your painting techniques.

Sitting at your easel with a palette in hand, you focused on painting the colorful spring flowers. The park was lively with other painters, families having picnics, and couples walking together. You didn’t realize that someone familiar was about to reappear in your life.

He approached quietly, a smile tugging at his lips as he observed you in your element. His heart swelled with pride at how far you had come since the last time he saw you.

“Y/n?” Jungwon’s voice broke the peaceful silence, his tone filled with surprise and delight.

You turned at the sound of his voice, eyes widening in disbelief before breaking into a smile. “Jungwon!” you exclaimed, setting aside your paintbrush and palette as you rose to greet him.

He closed the distance between you in quick strides, his grin widening as he reached out to boop your nose playfully—a familiar gesture that you remembered so well.

“You surprised me!” you laughed, your voice filled with genuine joy as you threw your arms around him in a tight embrace.

Jungwon lifted you effortlessly, spinning you around in a whirl. “You’ve grown up,” he remarked with a soft chuckle, his arms still wrapped around you as he gently set you back on your feet.

“I… I didn’t expect to see you here,” you admitted, feeling a rush of happiness and fondness as you looked up at him.

“I wanted to see you,” Jungwon confessed, his gaze tender as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. “You look… incredible.”

Heat crept into your cheeks at his compliment, your heart fluttering at the sincerity in his eyes. “Thank you,” you murmured shyly, feeling a surge of gratitude for his presence.

You almost forgot to introduce Jungwon to Minhee. Someone you had been with for a while. ‘’Oh, I want you to meet someone,’’

‘’Jungwon, this is Minhee,” you said warmly, gesturing to the young man standing beside you. “Minhee, meet Jungwon.”

Minhee extended his hand with a smile, his demeanor polite yet reserved. “Nice to meet you,” he greeted Jungwon.

Jungwon shook Minhee’s hand, a polite smile on his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Likewise,” he replied, his tone cordial yet distant.

You sensed a subtle shift in Jungwon’s face before he masked it with a neutral expression.

“Minhee and I were just about to head out,” you explained, breaking the silence that followed the introductions. “It was wonderful seeing you, Jungwon.”

“Yeah, it was great catching up,” Minhee added with a nod, sensing the tension.

Jungwon nodded slightly, his gaze flickering between you and Minhee. “Take care,” he said quietly, with a bit of sadness.

You felt a pang of sympathy as you looked at Jungwon, wishing you could ease the unease that went between you. “We should talk more often while you’re here,” you suggested gently, hoping to bridge the gap that had unexpectedly arisen.

Jungwon nodded again, a faint smile touching his lips. “I’d like that,” he replied, his voice softer now as he met your gaze with gratitude.

With a final wave, you and Minhee turned to leave. As you walked away, you couldn't shake the bittersweet feeling—a reunion with Jungwon, colored with unspoken words and a connection that spanned time and distance.

🌱

The room felt heavy as you carefully packed away your painting supplies, the scent of oil paint lingering in the air. Jungwon leaned against the doorway, his eyes studying you with curiosity and concern.

“Why are you giving this up?” he asked gently, breaking the silence that hung between you.

You paused, turning to face him with a small, sad smile. “It’s not about giving up,” you began, your voice marked by resignation. “It’s about practicality. There are things in life we must consider.”

Jungwon furrowed his brow, sensing the weight of your words. “But you love painting,” he insisted softly.

“I do,” you admitted, nodding slightly. “But loving something doesn’t always mean it’s the path we can afford to take.”

He stepped closer, his gaze searching yours. “What do you mean?”

You sighed, setting down a brush with deliberate care. “You see, Jungwon,” you started, choosing your words carefully, “Women here are often powerless unless they marry. Even then, everything they have belongs to their husbands.”

Jungwon frowned, his expression pained as he took in the implications of your words. “That’s… unfair,” he muttered, his voice laced with sympathy.

“It’s reality,” you replied quietly. “And Minhee… Minhee is different. He’s wealthy, and he can provide security. I’ve always known I would marry a rich man.”

Jungwon’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of hurt crossing his features. “So, if Minhee went down on one knee to you, would you say yes?”

You met his gaze squarely, the weight of your decision hanging heavy in the air. “Yes,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Because marrying Minhee means security, stability… a future I can’t achieve on my own.”

His shoulders slumped slightly, the reality of your words sinking in. “I understand,” he said softly, though you detected a hint of disappointment in his tone.

As you resumed packing, the room hung heavy with silence.

🌱

The park felt peaceful as you and Jungwon sat, you had just finished drawing him, the lines on the paper capturing him with careful detail.

“You have a remarkable talent,” Jungwon remarked with genuine admiration as he studied the sketch, his eyes flickering between the paper and your face.

“Thank you,” you replied softly. The air around you felt charged with unspoken words.

As you both stood up and began to walk, having a lighthearted conversation. Yet, amidst the ease of your exchange, Jungwon’s demeanor turned thoughtful, his gaze distant for a moment.

“How is Minhee?” he finally asked, his voice betraying a hint of concern.

“He’s busy with business,” you replied casually, though the words carried a weight you couldn’t ignore.

Jungwon nodded silently, his expression unreadable as he turned away slightly, staring into the distance. The silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the soft rustling of leaves overhead.

“You deserve more than just security,” Jungwon said suddenly, his voice low yet with earnestness. “You deserve happiness, love… a future where your heart is truly fulfilled.”

You paused, taken aback by his heartfelt words. “Why are you telling me this?” you asked gently, a mix of confusion and vulnerability in your voice. “You know the reality of life.”

Jungwon met your gaze, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion. “Because you deserve to hear it,” he replied softly, his voice trembling with sincerity. “Because… I love you.”

Those three words hung in the air, stirring emotions within you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to touch his hand, your heart overflowing with unspoken longing.

“I’ve loved you, I’ve always had,” you confessed softly, your voice trembling with raw honesty. “Every moment, every sketch… it was you.”

Jungwon’s breath caught, his eyes glistening with tears as he held you close. “I never knew,” he murmured, his voice filled with regret. “I should have told you sooner.”

With the weight of years of unspoken love and missed chances hanging between you, you leaned into his embrace.

But you knew that despite the tender moment, the reality of your circumstances remained unchanged. With a heavy heart and tears streaming down your cheeks, you gently pulled away from Jungwon.

“I can’t,” you whispered brokenly, your voice cracking with emotion. “Not when… not when Yeri didn't choose you. I won’t settle for being someone’s second choice. I won’t allow myself to be that’’

"Love, please listen-" Jungwon pleaded, trying to hug you, but you interrupted him right away.

“You are being mean Jungwon...” you muttered to him as you felt your tears running down to your cheeks.

Jungwon’s expression softened, his tears mingling with yours as he watched you walk away, each step echoing the ache in your heart...

🌱

Returning to your hometown brings a lot of memories and emotions. The sights and sounds welcomed you back into the embrace of your family and home. Amongst the laughter and chatter, there was a quiet moment when you found yourself alone with Jungwon after a while.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” you admitted, your voice soft with surprise as you looked at him, feeling a rush of emotions at seeing him again.

Jungwon’s eyes searched yours, his gaze with longing. “I had to see you,” he confessed quietly.

As you both walked through the old familiar streets, the conversation turned to recent events. The mention of Minhee brought a pause, a hesitation crossing your face.

“You didn’t say yes,” Jungwon observed gently, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why?”

Taking a deep breath, you looked down in shame, your heart laid bare in that vulnerable moment. “Because I don’t love him that way….the way that I should,” you admitted, your voice tinged with emotion. “Not like… like I love you.”

Jungwon’s expression softened, his eyes shining with tears of joy and relief. Your eyes met him as tears slowly went down. “You don't have to say anything-’’

But without a word, he moved closer and gently held your face before kissing you...

🌱

Years had passed since that reunion when love had finally found its way back to you and Jungwon. Now, you were sitting while painting the beauty of the park.

Beside you, Jungwon watched with a tender smile, his gaze brimming with admiration and love.

“You’ve captured it perfectly,” he murmured, his voice soft with pride as he knelt beside you, gently placing a hand on your growing belly.

You glanced down at the swell of your abdomen, a smile gracing your face. “Our little one,” you whispered. “Can you believe it?”

Jungwon’s eyes sparkled as he leaned in to press a kiss against your forehead. “I can’t wait to meet our baby,” he replied softly, his hand resting protectively over yours.

In that moment, you knew that you had found love that had grown against all odds...

[reiding-writing]

Hiii, I absolutely loved immortal it was adorable! I was wondering if I could request a fluff fic w Gn!reader where when Spencer goes to the swing set after the whole thing with Cat at the restaurant reader also goes there maybe to read a book and it's a whole meet cute kinda thing cause it's one of his favorite authors or smth? sry for the long request I was trying to be specific Imao

swinging [s.r]

Summary:

You attempt to find your usual late night escape in the empty play park late one evening after an argument with your boyfriend, instead you find a handsome stranger that you find oddly endearing.

WARNINGS: shitty boyfriend (not spencer obviously)

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: fluff (kinda hurt/comfort)

wc: 1.5k

masterlist!!

a/n: i am reuploading this once and once only so if it doesn’t upload to the tags again then i am giving up-

“It’s a little late for a play date don’t you think?”

Your comment clearly catches the boy in front of you off guard, his head shooting upwards and his eyes wide like he was in a state of fight or flight.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” You take a second to admire the man in front of you through your apology.

His hair was fluffy, bordering curly, and long enough that it was getting caught in his eyelashes as he blinked up at you.

His eyes were big, round, and practically glistening in the warm lighting of the lamp post to your left.

He was dressed in a finely pressed black suit fit with a baby blue shirt and a lilac tie that made him look like he’d walked right out of one of those rom-coms where the male lead is a prolific billionaire.

He was gorgeous.

“I came here to wallow in my own self-pity but it looks like you beat me to it,” You can’t help but chuckle softly at your own explanation. “Do you mind?”

You gesture towards the swing besides his with a book held in your left hand and a soft expression, as if to silently tell the beautiful stranger in front of you that if he wanted to be alone that you would feel any offense.

“Uh- yeah- no- no, go ahead,” You don’t even try to suppress the smile that creeps its way onto your face at the way he stumbles over his words, and you take a seat on the swing next to him with a chuckled “Thank you,” as you turn your head down to the open book in your lap, just illuminated enough under the lamp post so you can read the words on the pages.

Any distinguishing factors, including the book’s title were unceremoniously hidden from view as it blends into the night’s shadows, effectively halting curious effort of the boy next to you to figure out what it is.

Of course, it doesn’t take long for you to feel his lingering gaze, and you follow it down to the novel in your hands before you show off the cover in his direction.

Paramenides by Plato.

“Have you read it?”

Your voice stops his psychoanalysis of your literature choices as he turns his eyes back up towards your face again.

“I have actually,” He nods softly at you with a pursed, slightly awkward smile, the contours of his cheek bones perfectly captured in the dim lighting. “I read it when I was doing my Philosophy degree.”

“No kidding-“ You let out a small laugh in surprise at the fact the cute stranger encroaching on your usual pity party venue just so happened to have a degree in Philosophy.

He also just so happened to have an absolutely beautiful laugh, the sound like a song in your ear as he joins you in laughing about the absurdity of the odds that the two of you both had a keen interest in philosophy.

“So, what brings you out here so late then?” You seem to lose interest in your book as the two of you make eye contact, shutting it in your lap as you turn your shoulders towards him. “No, wait, let me guess, shitty date?”

The boy lets out a breath that could almost constitute as laugh, averting his eyes from you and leaning towards slightly to awkwardly run his hands over his legs. “Something like that-”

You give him a sympathetic smile and a nod. “Don’t let it ruin your perception of romance, it’ll work out in the end,”

The boy’s eyes turn up towards you once more as you speak, and your smile becomes a little more awkward as he meets your gaze once more.

“You don’t look like you believe yourself…” His words leaving you blinking softly in his direction, facial expression full of confusion.“Your relationship isn’t going very well at the moment is it?”

Your expression morphs at his question and he immediately backtracks, waving his hands around as he tries to pull back the conversation.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t- I’m-” He takes a sharp breath in through his nose before attempting to actually speak a full sentence to you. “I’m a uh profi- A behavioural analyst- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable i’m so sorry-“

“No it’s alright,” It was your turn to awkwardly drag your hands down your legs now, fingers curling over the edge of your book as you reach it and fiddle with the metal plating on one of the corners of the cover. “You’re not wrong,”

You can practically see the curiosity in his eyes as you confirm his suspicion. “Is that why you’re here?”

You can hear the cautiousness in his tone as he presses you further, clearly scared about crossing a line, “You said you came here to ‘wallow in self-pity’ earlier…”

You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of your earlier statement as he repeats it back to you. “We uh, had an argument,”

You play it off as something insignificant, but you can tell that he doesn’t believe you and soon end up finding yourself spilling the entirety of your relationship problems to someone you’ve never met before.

“He has this best friend that he’s like weirdly close to and he stood me up on a movie night we were supposed to have so they could go out together instead-“ You sigh exasperatedly as you replay the nights events in your head.

“I called him to ask where he was and it spun into him yelling at me for ‘not respecting’ his friendship because they’ve been friends longer than we’ve been dating, it’s stupid really-“

“That’s not stupid at all,” He shakes his head determinedly at you. “He’s not respecting your relationship, i’m sorry you have to deal with that,”

You can’t help but feel minorly guilty for making a stranger feel bad for you, but you give him a soft “Thank you,” nonetheless.

You unfortunately don’t have time to continue your conversation as your phone buzzes with a message from your boyfriend telling you that you have to go home to your shared apartment.

With a sigh you pick yourself up from the swing, clutching your book underneath your arm.

“Well, it was nice to meet you…” You trail of the sentence with indication for him to fill in the space with his name.

“Dr. Reid- Spencer Reid- Spencer- I’m Spencer....”

You can see the flush spread across his cheeks and over his nose as he stumbles out his name.

“I enjoyed speaking with you Spencer,” You give the cute stranger, Spencer, a soft smile as you prepare yourself to leave, hands stuffed in your pockets.

“I enjoyed speaking to you too,” He returns your smile with one of his own, albeit one that’s slightly more awkward, and you can see his mouth fall open again as if he was going to say something else, but his words fall short.

“Good night,” Your stopped in your walk home almost before it even starts as Spencer calls after you with a new found confidence.

“Wait-“ His voice echoes through the empty play park, and you turn around to meet his glistening gaze once more. “Am I- going to see you again?”

His half-awkward demeanour was oddly charming, eliciting a soft smile that spreads to your eyes.

“I like to read here sometimes, bring a book with you and maybe we can read together…”

Spencer smiles at your indirect invitation to see him here again in the future, and he nods softly at your answer, standing from the swing he was sat on to mirror you. “I’d like that,”

“Good,” You give him another soft smile that joined by a slight tilt of your head. “I’ll see you soon then..”

“Yeah…” Spencer stays stood as he watches you leave to go home, mind running at a million miles a minute as his brain fully comprehends what just happened.

You’re already out of sight before he realises that he forgot to ask for your name.

[azrielsvq]

Dad azriel!! I just feel like there isn’t enough dad azriel fics

summertime simplicities

pairing: girldad!azriel x afab!reader ♡

summary: you and azriel enjoy a nice evening with your newborn

warnings/tags: girldad!az, mentions of missions, fluff (obviously), slight angst, BARELY any angsts, azriel and reader are in LOVE, baby girl is the light of their life <3

a/n: thank you for the request anon! ♡ i’ll try my best to attempt this! girldad!batboys are always my favorite things to think about cause i know they would be the most badass dad’s out there.

word count: 560

‘*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*’

as the sun began to set over the house you shared in Velaris with Azriel, you sit on your couch, reading the spicy novel that Nesta had recommended to you. although you were eagerly awaiting his return, you were currently tuned into the delicious scenes that were playing out in your book. well- as tuned in as a mother could be.

a pink bassinet holding your newborn daughter sits next to the couch while you’re reading. Not before long, the beat of illyrian wings could be heard in the distance. a smell of night-chilled mist and cedar fills your nose. your mate has returned from his mission.

wanting to meet him at the door, you scoop your baby girl from her place of slumber and walk toward the door. you press a kiss to her supple cheek. your daughter shares a lot of the same features that her father does. a head of dark hair and hazel eyes stare happily back at you as she coos and squeals with happiness.

you open the door just in time to see your handsome mate standing outside of the door. his tired eyes instantly light up as he sees his beautiful wife and daughter in front of him.

“hi baby,” azriel says, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you deeply.

“hi, my love,” you respond back, kissing him back, one arm grabbing his bicep and the other cradling your daughter. more happy squealing and cooing interrupts the two of you as Azriel gently takes his daughter from your arms.

happy to see her father, your daughter smiles with a toothless baby smile and babbles happily. azriel kisses her forehead and cheeks.

“well, hello to you too, princess,” his eyes light up and he smiles even bigger as he gently cradles her to his chest. he gives her his finger to play with as he looks up at you.

“she’s so tiny, i’m still afraid that i’m gonna break her.” he chuckles and gives you a stare that tells you he’s only half-joking.

“you’re not gonna break her, love, i promise” you say to him as you put a comforting hand on his jaw. “now let’s get inside, i don’t wanna stand out here all night.”

still cradling the baby, azriel steps inside and kicks his boots off. his shadows make quick work of his weapons and armour and strip him bare of everything dangerous on his body. now in his underclothes, he turns to you.

“wanna put her to bed with me, az?” you say as you stop at the base of your stairs. azriel happily nods as he looks down at your daughter and smiles.

“it’s bedtime for you, sweet love,” he coos, following behind you up the stairs.

you both enter her nursery and azriel places her down in the crib. being the overprotective father that he is, he sends a few of his shadows in the corners of the nursery to keep surveillance while the baby sleeps.

having been fed a few minutes before he got home, your daughter, happy and well-fed, drifts off to sleep peacefully. azriel pulls you closer to him and inhales your scent as you both peer down at your daughter and watch her dream peacefully. you stand there, content with the life that you two have made for yourselves. your beautiful little family.

[harrywavycurly]

Worst Mob Boss Ever: Book Club

Part 1: Here

A/N: I wasn’t planning on a part 2 but here we are because I got hit with inspiration, so enjoy✨

CW: Language, mentions of Harry’s “job”, mentions of past violent acts (broken nose), multiple “threats” of violence towards one person.

Tag List: @mema10 @angeldavis777 @outofthisworl-d @howling-wolf97 @umadirectioner @fangirl509east

Summary: Harry joins you for book club and it doesn’t go the way he imagined it would ✨

“They aren’t going to let you in dressed like that.” You warn the tall green eyed man who is standing next to you holding your slippers outside the parked car that’s currently in a driveway of a house he’s never been to before. Harry quirks a brow as he looks down at his suit, not sure why his attire would keep him from being able to enjoy an evening discussing a subpar romance novel. You shake your head and give Mitch a glare as you grab your backpack off the floor of your car. “You better bring it back with a full tank or I’m kicking your ass.” Your brother just rolls his eyes as he watches you sling a strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“Just call me when it’s done.” You just nod and go to close the door. “And uh tell Sydney I said-” You close the door on him before he can finish his sentence making him laugh as you shoot him the bird before turning and facing the house.

“May I ask what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You ignore Harry as you make your way up the path that leads to the front door of your bestfriend’s house. “Do they have an issue with Gucci or something?” He asks as he follows closely behind you while Mitch begins to back out of the driveway so he can go run the errands he needed to borrow your car for.

“I told you this is a cozy book club meaning you can’t just show up in a suit and honestly no one gives a shit if it’s Gucci or not.” You explain to him as you take the pair of slippers out of his hands that you made him hold for you while you got the rest of your stuff from the car.

“If I take the jacket off and roll up the sleeves it can give cozy vibes.” He offers making you roll your eyes because both of you know that nothing will make his suit look cozy.

“Just don’t embarrass me this-” Harry’s attention moves from you to the front door of the house as it swings open revealing someone he hasn’t seen in months, dressed in a matching pink and white stripped pajama set and white slippers.

“What the actual fuck is Harry Styles doing on my front porch?” You look at Morgan and then over your shoulder to Harry who looks more amused than annoyed or even shocked at her question.

“Good to see you too Morgan.” He greets your bestfriend with a smile making her cross her arms over her chest as she glares at him.

“I must have died and gone to hell because there is no way this is actually happening.” You raise an eyebrow at her as you try to ever remember her ever mentioning knowing Harry but you come up empty as the two of them just stare at one another.

“Uh how do you know him?” You ask making Morgan finally acknowledge you and you could laugh at how her face changes from a scowl to a soft smile as soon as her eyes meet your, but then she lets out an annoyed huff as she looks away from you so she can go back to glaring at the man behind you.

“That’s my cousin’s old boss. I met him at a holiday party a year or so ago.” Harry can’t help but feel his jaw clench as she motions at him with one of her red acrylic nails, not liking the tone she’s using at all. “He’s an asshole and-”

“I’m an asshole? Your cousin was the asshole or did you forget the reason why he no longer works for me?”

“So he borrowed some money-”

“I didn’t know stealing was the same thing as borrowing?”

“He paid it back.”

“Yeah after I broke his nose and threatened to beak his kneecaps with a crowbar.” Your eyes go wide as Harry tells Morgan what he did to her cousin as if it’s the most casual conversation he’s had all day. But to your surprise all Morgan does is place her hands on her hips and narrow her eyes at him while Harry just stands there unbothered.

“Oh please as if you ever do anything yourself you had Frank do it for you.” She snaps at him making Harry let out a chuckle as he shakes his head in disbelief that of all the people in this city you could be friends with you somehow manage to pick someone who can’t stand him and all because he fired her cousin for stealing from him. And if Harry’s being honest she’s lucky her cousin is even still breathing but he’d never voice that out loud to her since she’s already looking at him like she wants to strangle him with her barehands.

“Frank? You think I sent Frank to deal with your idiot cousin? I wouldn’t trust him with my coffee order.” You feel like you’ve been standing on Morgan’s front porch for an hour when in reality it’s only been a few minutes but you decide in this moment you’ve heard enough and just want to go inside and change out of your work uniform.

“I’m going to go change while the two of you finish catching up.” Morgan looks at you and smiles as she moves to the side giving you enough space to walk through her front door, leaving her alone with Harry on the porch.

“Listen Morgan I’m not here to talk about your cousin or work I’m just here for book club.” Harry’s voice is calm and controlled, it doesn’t hold a single bit of the annoyance he has bubbling inside of him right now as he watches you enter the house and turn down a hallway so you’re no longer in his line of sight. Doing his best to hide the fact he doesn’t enjoy not being able to see you, he is willing to say whatever he needs in order to get inside the house.

“Fine but you’re not stepping a foot inside my house until you explain why you’re here with my bestfriend who doesn’t have anything to do with you or your business.” Harry can tell by her voice that she’s serious, she would make him sit outside on the porch all night until he gave her the details she’s looking for so he just nods before running a hand through his hair.

“I got into her car thinking it was mine and now here we are.” Morgan gives him a look that lets him know she isn’t buying a single word he’s saying.

“You got into her car thinking it was yours? Why because it’s a big black suv?” Morgan furrows her brows as Harry lets out an annoyed sigh and just shrugs in response making her roll her eyes. “God you’re such a narcissist.”

“So I’ve been told.” He says with a smirk as he remembers a very similar conversation he had with you earlier.

“You can’t come in dressed like that.” Morgan states as she eyes his suit and Harry for a moment considers just using your phone so he can call Eric to come get him but he really wants to see what this book club is all about since you were willing to risk your life by threatening his head of security just to get to it on time.

“Sorry I missed the memo that went over the dress code but this is all I have.” He explains making Morgan rub her lips together as she contemplates several options in her head, and when she finally gives Harry a smirk he knows he’s not going to like what she’s about to tell him.

“Fine just lose the jacket and you have to wear slippers.”

“I don’t wear slippers.”

“Then you don’t come inside.” Morgan watches Harry run a hand over his face as he lets out a sigh of defeat before looking at her and motioning towards the front door.

“Fine lead the way then.” She smiles and turns around to lead him into the house. “Just please don’t make them fuzzy.”

You walk out of Morgan’s bedroom finally feeling a bit more relaxed now that you’re out of your work clothes and in your gray sweat-shorts and pink t shirt, you smile as you walk down the hall and can hear the sound of Sydney’s voice. When you turn to go into the living room you feel like you just entered a weird alternate universe because Harry is sitting on the couch with his sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows, his suit jacket hung over the armrest of the couch, a pair of red and white fuzzy slippers with hearts all over them on his feet that are propped up on Morgan’s ottoman and a glass of wine in his hand. You look over to his left and see Sydney sitting next to him with her back against the armrest so she’s facing him with her wine glass clutched in both hand as her eyes go wide with a wild kind of excitement at something he just said.

“Wait you like-you can do that?” Sydney asks making Harry just nod in response as he takes a sip of his wine while you walk over to the loveseat across from the couch.

“He can do what?” You ask making Harry’s eyes travel across the room until they find yours and you ignore the small flutter your heart does when he gives you a smile as if he hasn’t seen you in ages when it’s just been ten minutes.

“He can beat up Johnny for me.” Sydney answers with an excitement you haven’t heard from her ever since her ex, Johnny cheated on her a few weeks ago.

“I’m surprised you haven’t done it yourself.” He’s looking at you as he speaks and you roll your eyes as you lean over to grab the bottle of wine off the coffee table so you can pour yourself some but Harry is quicker than you so he beats you to it. Placing his own glass down on the coffee table, he picks up the bottle of white wine and an empty glass. “You’re quite scary when you’re annoyed so I can’t image how terrifying you could be to someone who really pissed you off.” He adds as he holds the full glass of wine out for you to take, an annoying grin on his face.

“She tried but he-” Sydney begins but then pauses to take a sip of wine.

“He what?” All the lightheartedness leaves Harry’s voice as he turns to look at Sydney and she swallows the sip of wine in her mouth before she turns to look at you which makes Harry follow her gaze, his green eyes a shade darker as they stare into yours. You want to laugh at how serious he is but you don’t, you oddly find it kind of nice knowing he seems upset at the mere idea of someone doing anything to you.

“He called the cops on me.” You answer for Sydney with a chuckle as you lean back into the cushions of the loveseat, doing your best to get comfortable.

“That’s because Johnny is a little bitch who was scared shitless the moment he saw you pull up into his driveway with that baseball bat.” You roll your eyes as Morgan explains what happened as she walks into the living room and places a tray of snacks down on the coffee table. Harry can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto his face as he imagines you in a fit of rage pulling up to someone’s house holding a baseball bat.

“Well he sure didn’t seem scared when I used it to smash his windshield. Seemed more angry than anything.” Harry takes a moment to look around the living room, as far as book clubs go he feels like it’s on the smaller side since it’s only the three of you and then him but he also for some reason feels the same way he does when he enters a meeting that’s just with his top men. So he can’t even stop himself before he says what comes to his mind next.

“Are you lot in a gang? Is that what this book club is actually for? Just a cover up for your meetings to discus who needs to be met with a baseball bat in their driveway?” All three of you look at him with playful glares making him just quirk a brow when Morgan takes a sip of her wine and looks away from him first so she can go into the kitchen to grab some napkins.

“Do you not have friends Harry? Because not every group of friends that are willing to go to jail for each other is a gang.” Sydney asks as she reaches over and gently places a hand on Harry’s knee and you have to rub your lips together to keep the laugh inside when you watch her give his knee a nice reassuring pat. “If you don’t that’s fine you’re like a big deal so-”

“Don’t feed his ego please he’s actually the worst mob boss ever he doesn’t even have a phone.”

“You don’t have a phone?”

“I have a phone I just don’t have it on me right now.”

“What? So how do your uhm people know where you’re at?”

“I had to-”

“He called his security guy on my phone.”

“Oh is he cute? This security guy?”

“He had a nice phone voice.” You answer with a shrug before taking a sip of your wine while Harry has to bite his tongue to keep him from saying the worst things about Eric just to keep your friend away from him and for you to want to take back the thing about his nice phone voice. “His name is Eric.”

“Eric? Oh I know Eric. He’s your type Syd.” Morgan states as she places the napkins down and finally takes her spot next to you with her wine glass, she gives Sydney a playful wink making her let out a laugh.

“You can do better than Eric he’s not the best when it comes to dating someone.”

“I didn’t say I was tying to date him Harry.” Sydney mumbles as she takes her hand off his knee making you lean your head back and laugh when you see Harry close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose with his free hand as the realization of what Sydney actually means hits him.

“Well I have no comment on how he performs in that department.” He answers as he brings his wine glass up to his lips to take a rather large sip.

“But seriously you’d like-like really have someone beat Johnny up for me?” Sydney asks shyly as if she doesn’t fully believe that Harry has the connections or the time to deal with her ex boyfriend who he doesn’t even know. You look at Morgan because she’s the only other person in the room that knows what Harry does for a living and the type of people he’s associated with, she’s already looking at you and playfully wiggles her eyebrows as she sips her wine.

“Syd he could have Johnny more than just beat up.” Morgan says as she looks away from you and over to the girl who is now looking at Harry with a suspicious expression on her face. “He could have him swimming with the fishes if you know what I mean.” Sydney’s eyes go wide while Harry as usual looks completely unbothered as he turns his head so he can look at the girl who now seems a bit concerned with how close she’s sitting to him now that she knows what he’s capable of.

“The term is swimming with the fishes.” Harry corrects with a gentle smile while still looking at Sydney, Morgan just lets out a huff as she leans over to grab an apple slice from the snack tray on the coffee table. “And while yes I could make that happen I don’t really think it would be necessary in this situation.” You watch in amusement as Sydney stares at Harry with a hand clutching her chest and the other holding onto her wine glass for dear life.

“Okay well what would you do to him then?” You ask out of pure curiosity because you want to know what sort of punishment he thinks is fitting for Johnny, hoping it’s nothing too disturbing since he’s already mentioned to you how he has cars blown up with people he doesn’t like or sees as a threat as if it’s no big deal.

“Well in situations like these death is too nice so you simply make them wish for death just so the torture can end.” Harry doesn’t want to come off too harsh or make any of the girls in the room fear him, especially you so he does his best to make his tone soft and gentle even if the words are far from either of those things. But given how Morgan’s mouth is slightly hung open and Sydney’s eyebrows are almost raised so high they are hitting her hairline he would say his method didn’t work as well as he intended.

“Holy shit.”

“Did you-you say torture?”

“Jesus Harry you can’t talk about torturing someone so badly they beg for death while wearing fuzzy slippers at a spicy book club meeting.” Your words have Harry looking down at his feet and immediately rolling his eyes at the horrendous slippers that Morgan forced him to wear just so he could gain entry to her house.

“I’m sorry I just-”

“You’d be willing to do that? For me?” Everyone’s heads turn to look at Sydney, Harry feels an anger beginning to burn inside of him as Sydney looks at him with eyes that tell him she’s not used to people being so willing to do things for her let alone have someone hurt on her behalf and he knows it’s because no one has treated her the way she deserves.

“It’s the least I could do for you love.” He answers making a small blush creep its way onto her cheeks. “And if I’m being honest I wouldn’t really be doing it for you. I’d be doing it for myself because he just sounds like someone who needs to be taught a lesson or two on how to treat someone.” If there’s one thing Harry truly hates it’s men who don’t know how to treat their partners and this Johnny fellow doesn’t even know he just earned himself a spot on Harry’s shit list.

“So you’d handle it personally then?” Morgan asks with a quirked brow because she knows Harry almost never gets his hands dirty anymore unless he’s given no other choice.

“Yes I’d do it myself just like I did with your cousin.” Harry says as he glances at Morgan and gives her a look that tells her he’s not lying, he really is the one who broke her cousin’s nose.

“As long as you’re the one doing it I’m fine with it.” Sydney states nonchalantly as she leans over to grab a cracker off the snack tray.

“I do have one condition though.” He says with a smug like smile on his face as his attention shifts from Morgan over to you.

“A condition? You don’t get to negotiate something you offered to do in the first place Harry. How are you an actual mob boss? You really are the worst.” You argue as you glare at him making that annoying grin spread across his face, the one that makes his dimple appear and the butterflies to go off in your tummy.

“You have to agree to go to dinner with me next week.” You feel your eyes go wide as your mouth drops open while Morgan and Sydney stare at Harry with equally just as shocked expressions.

“Oh fuck off Harry I’ve already been held hostage by you in my own car and now you want to trap me into going to dinner with you just so you’ll beat up Johnny? You’ve lost your mind.”

“I haven’t lost anything. I’m just going off that old saying of if you’re good at something don’t do it for free.”

“We aren’t offering up our friend as payment for you to almost kill someone Harry. Don’t be fucking gross.” Morgan says in your defense but Harry doesn’t pay her any attention, his eyes still set on yours as he waits for your answer.

“Yeah Harry you’re acting like one of those poorly written romance novel mafia bosses who kidnap the girl they like and force them into a weird marriage and we are very much anti forced anything around here.” Sydney adds making both you and Morgan giggle as her worlds become a bit jumbled towards the end due to the fact she tries to take a sip of wine while still speaking.

“I’m not forcing her into anything she can say no and that would be fine.” You bite your bottom lip as Harry stares at you.

You let out a long sigh before you take a sip of wine to help calm your nerves as you contemplate your options, you know Harry is involved in a world you’ve only really read about or watched movies depicting the violence that takes place in it but you also know there’s a subtle softness to him. Because even now the man is at a book club drinking shitty wine and wearing slippers all so he could spend the rest of the evening with you. Once you’ve made your choice you lean over and place your glass on the table before crossing your arms over your chest as you stare back at him.

“I’m not going to dinner with you until after you do whatever it is you’re going to do to Johnny.” You counter his original offer making him narrow his eyes at you a bit clearly not expecting you to be try to negotiate with him.

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it? You’re not going to argue with me about it or anything?”

“Nope.” His answer makes you raise an eyebrow because it’s a bit unnerving how quickly he accepted your offer. “If you try to flake out on me I know where to find you.” He adds as a gentle reminder that he knows where you work and what kind of car you drive. While Harry is busy looking at you he doesn’t notice Sydney’s hand coming up to smack him upside the head causing his eyes to narrow as he turns and gives her a harsh glare but she doesn’t even seem the least bit bothered by it as she’s also glaring at him.

“You can’t threaten her while also asking her out on a date Harry god you are the fucking worst at this.” You have to bring a hand up to cover your mouth so your laughter doesn’t spread throughout the room as Sydney lets Harry have it. “Like seriously learn some manners.” She adds with a huff as she gets comfortable on her side of the couch.

“See what I mean? Worst mob boss ever.” You say with a laugh making Harry roll his eyes as he turns his attention back to you.

“Are we going to actually discuss the book or just sit here and give Harry a list of people we need him to hurt for us?” Morgan asks as she motions to the book in question that’s sitting next to the snack tray on the coffee table.

“For every name you add to the list it’s another dinner she has to go to with me.” He explains knowing it will make you all huffy and annoyed, something he’s coming to enjoy even though he knows he shouldn’t but he can’t help that he likes the way your eyes get this little glimmer in them when you look at him while frustrated with something he’s said or done.

“So the book it is then.” You answer for everyone making Harry chuckle as you reach for your copy that has your bookmark on the page you left off at, deciding for the rest of the girls that one dinner with Harry is all you’re willing to do at this point. So when they both just nod and grab their own books you let out a small sigh of relief because you know deep down that the more time you spend with Harry the more you’ll probably end up enjoying it and you can’t have that because who wants to enjoy the company of the worst mob boss ever? Certainly not you.

[starstruckmoony]

so high school.

masterlist

pairing - james potter x reader

summary - that one cute nerdy guy from your lectures gives you a follow and you end up actually falling for him.

trope/tags - modern!au, uni/college!au, instagram/social media!au, fluff, terrible humor

word count - 578

warnings - language, drinking, smoking

part 1 / part 2

yourusername

❤ liked by prongsypotter, bartyyy, ev.rosier and 166 others

yourusername vogue

tagged vance_emm

8 comments

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❤ liked by yourusername, vance_emm, pandorasbox and 132 others

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11 comments

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❤ liked by yourusername, casmeadowes, rjlupin and 144 others

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yourusername added to their story

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yourusername

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yourusername girlhood

tagged lily_evans

10 comments

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❤ liked by vance_emm, pandorasbox, mmmckinnon and 139 others

prongsyboy spider boy?

13 comments

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yourusername

❤ liked by pete__, marymacdonald, starmanblack and 147 others

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tagged prongsyboy

14 comments

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❤ liked by mmmckinnon, casmeadowes, yourusername and 169 others

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tagged yourusername

10 comments

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prongsyboy added to their story

[lilacxquartz]

OBEY || Makima x Fem!Reader

summary: Makima loved girls like you, so pretty and compliant. She had it in her mind that she could get you to do anything she wanted and as it turned out, she was right.

tags: (warnings in red): manipulation, coercion, dubious consent, forced masturbation, some pet play, dom!makima, porn with plot, toy usage, vibrators, one shot

word count: 2.4k

You messed up this time.

You really did.

You weren’t great at your job, half of the time you wondered why you were even here, but everyone beyond that point was happy to remind you that you were just an intern—of course you messed up, but that’s not something to worry about, they don’t suffer from your mess.

All of your end of the week paperwork was always run through Makima, the one they all warned you about instead. You hadn’t yet experienced her supposed wrath, by some miracle escaping the rumours.

But something felt different this time.

She wasn’t the type to slip up her mood, always so professionally calm and composed as she wore her white button up and black slacks, fiery red hair tucked neatly away into a tailed braid.

She skimmed the paperwork with the tip of her finger, making a smacking noise with her lips as disappointment seemed to brew. She wasn’t happy with you, but her wrath declined, she wasn’t punishing you just yet.

No, there was something playful in her glare instead.

“Your work ethic is lacking,” she simply said, her voice cutting through the air, she tempted you closer as she walked you into her office.

Your heart dropped as she shut the door behind you, swivelling a lock as the key turned, the blinds falling shut against the window. It wasn’t all that late outside, but she made it night.

Listening in, you could hear a button fumble and then flick, a dim light spreading a warm glow around the office space. Next, you watched her move her hands over the drawer of her desk, another key striking into something locked away, pulling something out that she left hidden to you, at least for now.

“Now then…” Makima purred, taking a step closer and leaving the item she fetched on the chair behind the desk. You couldn’t quite see what it was. “Let’s try encouragement in a different way.”

Your heart dropped.

Were you about to get beaten up at your own job? (that you weren’t even getting paid for, it was an internship)—at least not yet, you had to survive the whole assigned duration to land a paid spot in this place.

Still, the atmosphere suddenly became something different entirely, the air thicker than blood, something that stagnated and caused your breath to hitch. Was this her presence alone that made you feel that way? The rumours felt suddenly real, your mind begging for you to run away but your fate already sealed itself the second you stepped inside.

“A-another way?” you asked.

“You’re a pretty girl,” Makima said, approaching closer, the carpet absorbing her steps—she moved quietly like a siren, her intentions feeling seducing almost as she reeled you in with those anchoring eyes, “so why are you trying to get a job here?”

You couldn’t quite reply, you weren’t even sure what to say. You gulped as her touch felt gradually invading, fingertips tracing along your jaw as her knuckles met with your cheeks. She felt soft. Tempting. Dangerous.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied you, the lack of reply grating on her nerves even if it wasn’t shown.

“Well?” she demanded.

“I want to make a difference, you tried to say, what a cliché excuse—oops.

She flashed a curt smile, “Very novel.”

Her fingers drifted down to your chin, pinching it and tilting your head to align with her line of sight. You avoided her gaze but she made you follow it much to your impending dread.

She parted her lips once more.

“You could have been someone’s pretty little wife or a mistress even, life could have been easy, especially for someone like you.”

You couldn’t respond, feeling insulted.

“A shame, but…” she let her words trail off, a glint of pure curiosity sparking in her eyes, the look she gave you was a dangerous one, “at least it means that I can have my fun instead.”

“I-I’m sorry?” you finally replied, fluttering a couple of blinks as your body froze.

“Mhm,” she hummed, finally letting go of your face—her eyes darkened, any light that indicated care now faded away, “so kneel.”

You tensed up even more, unsure how to react.

“I know you’re not deaf, my pretty, so let’s try that again,” she cooed again, her voice flipping a switch, it felt like an illusion though, there was a looming threat in her tone, “…kneel.”

You gulped as you knelt after a long moment, her eyes fixated on yours as she remained silent beyond that point.

Her lips curled as she watched you surrender to her will, “Good, I’m glad I didn’t have to repeat myself again—wouldn’t want to bruise such a face.”

You had no idea how to react, so you simply gulped. All of a sudden, it felt like you couldn’t talk, your replies congested.

Makima moved towards you next, taking a domineering step as she moved your chin to secure eye contact with you once again, her face showed zero praise but the warmth she offered from her touch told a different sort of story.

“So compliant,” she cooed.

She grabbed at your jaw next, fingertips trailing your lips.

“Show me your tongue, my pretty.”

You complied with her for now, showing her your tongue like a dog, panting with the muscle out in the open. You shuddered as you drooled, saliva dripping onto the floor.

She studied you for a moment, making a slight humming sound as she then let go of you and stepped away.

“I’ll go easy on you today,” Makima said, seeming to decide.

You put your tongue back into your mouth, fearful of the consequence but she didn’t seem to scold. Instead, she made her way back to her desk, taking a silver looking object, fiddling with the base as a droning whir emitted from the thing.

A vibrator?

She slid it into your trousers, making you freeze as she just nearly avoided the cotton underwear line that piled at your crotch; she then pushed your knees shut, keeping the vibrator running between your thighs and right next to your heat.

“Let’s keep that there,” She nodded, taking a step back again as though to admire the sight of your gradually undoing being; your complexion slowly blooming into rosy red, your eyes so trusting and so afraid.

Yet observant, so ready to give and to obey.

The setting on the vibrator felt like eventual torture, shuddering against your clothed clit as pleasure built up in between the seams—your thighs attempted to reel it tighter, squeezing the toy to give it deeper focus, but no matter what you did, it wouldn’t go beyond a certain point.

Your hands drifted towards your legs, attempting to alter its course but Makima was quick to deny you such relief.

Her eyes narrowed as her lips crept up into a smile, “Not yet, my lovely.”

She watched as your body began to writhe under impossibly low vibrations, tempting your teased sex again and again—you couldn’t help but squirm as a rising heat coiled in your lower stomach, clenching and tightening as waves continued to roll to a tweezed point.

Crouching down, she cupped your chin and brought it closer, planting a warm kiss upon your lips. You could taste her lipstick, feeling it stick to your own flesh and her breath shudder into your throat; tasting of stale coffee but just barely. Her eyes were half lidded as she continued to press her lips onto yours, her tongue working its way inside pushing—moving, wrestling your own muscle away almost as it dared to follow her lead.

“Delicious,” Makima purred as she pulled back, her amber eyes scrolling to your quivering thighs, igniting a feverish stare upon your body.

You shuddered, both scared and aroused almost, your core tightening against such intense pleasure that it almost hurt. Torture it was as it continued, your legs clenching to burrow the toy in but with no such release.

Makima moved back a little, pulling up a chair to sit right before you.

“Now my lovely, undress for me,” she spoke, demanded almost. Her expression hardened, a faint blush forming upon her skin.

“But, I-“ you tried to retaliate, already feeling so embarrassed and broken down.

“I like my pets compliant, [name],” Makima warned, her tone taking on something colder. You watched as she unbuckled her belt, ever so slightly and as her delicate fingers fumbled the button and then the zipper—fingers slipping into her black slacks.

Reluctantly you nodded in such a stiffened stance that you could have been chiselled from marble yourself. Slowly, you removed your clothes at a slow rate, her eyes silently blessing praise and approval.

Once you were in just your underwear, you stopped and she seemed disappointed.

“I didn’t say stop, my pet,” she warned again, this time oozing much more of a threat behind her tone.

“I-Of course…” you shuddered with a jittering reply, your entire body shaking as you slipped gently out of your bra, kicking off your socks and finally allowing the cloth that clung against your heat to finally drop to your knees.

“So beautiful,” Makima praised as she seemed genuine, “now crawl to me.”

“I-I’m sorry?” you blurred out unintentionally again, feeling your voice next anchor in your throat out of accidental resistance. You knew not to question her and yet you did.

“Obedient pets listen to the commands they’re given, do they not?” she smiled at last, seemingly finally entertained with you albeit at your expense.

You swallowed away the final part of your dignity, surrendering to moving your body into a position on all fours as you leaned towards her. The carpet felt rough against your knees and uncomfortable, your palms barely tolerating the sensation until you were met right by her knees.

“Good girl,” she praised, “now lean back for me and open your legs.”

“But that’s too much-“

“—You misunderstand, I only keep good pets employed,” she smiled, “you want to work here, don’t you?”

You were starting to wonder if you did.

“I…I don’t kno-“

“Beautiful girls like you are wasted on this place, but I can offer you something more,” she said, “if you listen to me then you will be rewarded in much more than a safer world and a mediocre salary.”

“W-will I?”

“I take care of my loyal pets, [name],” Makima promised, offering deceitful hope, “your life is worth so much more when it’s in my hands.”

You gulped, something about her words started to swoon you.

“Now, show yourself to me,” she repeated again, her tone warmer yet lacking patience.

You reluctantly listened as you spread your legs for her; your lips parting by the will of your fingers slipping inside and seeking out your clit.

“Such a pretty cunt,” Makima commented, her own hand exploring below the waistline of her black slacks, “pleasure yourself for me.”

You spat a little on your fingertips, swirling circles on the bud as it slowly grew swollen, your breath heightening in such a bizarre situation that you couldn’t quite tell what you wanted to do.

Surprisingly you were already soaked, seeking lubrication from your sopping sex instead, avoiding eye contact when you could but ultimately going back to her gaze to seek approval.

“A-am I doing good?” you asked, desperate for praise.

Makima didn’t reciprocate your need though, simply offering a slight curve of her lips as her stare intensified. She knew what she was doing though, true praise was given through actions rather than words and as her own arousal grew, her silence was the truest form of praise there was.

You continued anyway as you on and off stole glances at her, certain things turning you on more than other elements. The way her eyes looked down at you, reminding you of your place below her. The way her hand likely was doing the exact same thing, but she kept it hidden from you. The blush that started to form, matching the shade of her hair.

You didn’t quite mind, as it turned out.

Focusing on those points, you felt yourself melt into something that went beyond simple arousal. Your body flushed with fear and warmth and acceptance, almost. Your own stomach coiled as you approached your initial end, your fingertips pushing out an orgasm out of you that your whole body rode out.

Makima’s smile curved again, something devious forming in her eyes.

“Again,” she commanded, “use the toy.”

Still feeling sore but in need of more, you shook as you reached for the toy and held it against your clit. The toy felt sore against your now swollen point, immediately causing you to shudder and whine, a reaction that made her eyes widen with sheer excitement.

Your thighs trembled as you felt your whole body flush with enveloping fire, a shaking release daring to swell within your core. Your thighs clenched as you held the toy to your bud, daring to surrender to yet another climax as it edged near.

Makima kept watch of you the whole time, lips curling to meet a satisfied smile; her eyes were relentlessly boring into yours, as though captivated by your own arousal—her own overlapping, feeling almost vicarious pleasure.

“Cum for me, my pretty,” she commanded, her voice sounding as silky as ever.

You listened without question, finally feeling the coursing waves roll through your stomach and all across your body, leaving you behind as a sweating mess.

“What a sight,” Makima purred, taking her hand out of her trousers and cupping around your cheeks.

You could smell the scent of her, feeling almost intoxicated as she hovered so closely by.

“I-I did well?” you asked in a scrambled way, your mind not fully there just yet.

She continued to talk to you as her body leaned in, her form crouching right beside you as she held your head in between both of her hands, “So pretty, so obedient.”

“I-I-“ you stammered again, feeling something warm from the praise.

“You’re my favourite toy so far you know,” she smiled, pushing her lips up against yours for the second time, “now get dressed, you’re invited for after work drinks with me.”

With your mind still fried, you nodded in a dazed state as you got back dressed again and stood statued into place as Makima brushed you up, straightening up your clothes and brushing any loose strands of your hair out of the way.

You followed her as she walked, your head still spinning from what just happened.

Yet Makima knew exactly what she was doing.

And now, she had a pretty little pet on her leash.

Ready to obey whenever she pleases.

[scoonsalicious]

1/Uncovered

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Pocket!Reader

Summary: Family is complicated. Family is messy. Family is what you make it.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mention of sexual situations.

Word Count: 2.8k

Previously On...: Fuck the one-shots-- we're in miniseries territory now, baby! Consider this a kind of teaser that bridges us from Unwanted to Unbroken.

A/N: I HAVE MISSED YOU. I HAVE MISSED THEM. WELCOME BACK, BITCHES!

No release schedule for this one, though-- sorry. We going in raw.

Banner by my beloved @mrsbuckybarnes1917; poor recolor by me.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Laying on the chaise lounge on the apartment terrace, you lazily ran your fingers through Bucky’s soft hair as he rested his head against you. The two of you were taking the rare break in your busy schedules to enjoy some quiet reading time– you had finally convinced Bucky to read To Kill a Mockingbird after trying to (poorly, in your opinion, but you were a science nerd, not a literary major) explain how it was the most important piece of American Literature ever written. He’d argued with you, firmly stating that title belonged to The Jungle, and while you didn’t discount the importance of Upton Sinclair’s work, you failed to see how he could make the distinction when he’d missed out on almost one hundred years of The Great American Novel. 

He’d only conceded to giving it a chance once you promised to reread it along with him, so you could discuss it together and now, here you were, enjoying the cool breeze that came in off the Hudson that cut through the late Summer heat, letting your imagination wander along with the adventures of Scout, Jem, and Dill. 

“Gotta say, sweets,” Bucky said absentmindedly as he turned a page, “kinda surprised you love this book so much. Over a hundred pages in and nobody’s having sex; doesn’t seem like your kinda story.”

“Shut up,” you chastised him, playfully tugging on a strand of his chestnut locks. “Not all my interests are smut-related, thank you.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Bucky chuckled as he stroked his fingers along your thigh where it rested next to his side. “Always such a dirty mind to go with that dirty mouth.”

You tried to suppress the shiver that went through your body at his touch, but it was like trying to keep the sun’s rays from warming your skin– impossible. He was already lying between your legs on the chaise while you read, his head resting comfortably on the soft curve of your stomach, his vibranium arm propped posessively over your knee. 

“Behave,” you warned him, though your voice didn’t hold any real heat. “We’re supposed to be reading.” You both knew that, if Bucky really wanted to distract you from the book in favor of other more… intimate activities, it wouldn’t take much work for him to do so, and you wouldn’t even be mad about it. 

Though you couldn’t see it from the way you were laying, you could easily picture the smirk that was gracing his face in your mind’s eye. “Okay, okay,” he conceded. “I’ll be good, I promise.” 

You wanted to believe him, but the way he kept teasing you by drawing soft patterns on the skin of your leg with his fingertips told you otherwise. You’d tried to ignore him, but you were only human. 

“Bucky,” you groaned in frustration as his fingers climbed ever higher along the outside of your thigh. “You are not playing fair!”

Bucky tilted his head back so he could look at you. “Whaddaya mean, doll?” he asked, his face the picture of innocence. “I’m just readin’ my book. Not m’fault, you’re so sensitive.”

You rolled your eyes at him; you were minutes away from just tossing the book to the ground and locking your legs around him, and you knew he knew it, too.

Before you could make a move, though, your phone began pinging with incoming alerts, one after the other, in a seemingly neverending barage of notitifcations. You frowned as you both turned to stare at the device where it sat on the coffee table. 

“Who’s textin’ you like a crazy person?” Bucky asked, slowly sitting up between your legs to look back at you.

You shook your head and frowned. “That’s not my text tone,” you told him. “That’s my Google Alerts notification.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed and he leaned forward, picking your phone up from the table. “May I?” he asked, inclining his head toward it. 

“Please,” you nodded, granting him permission to unlock your phone and check the notifications as you sat up straighter, pulling your knees against your chest.

Bucky quickly tapped in your passcode and began scanning the screen. You were grateful he’d taken the initiative to look for you– there was only one thing you’d ever set a Google Alert for: your own name, and every time you received one, your heart would stop in your chest, convinced that this time, someone would have uncovered the truth about your abusive past and the horrible things that had been done to you as a child.

You weren’t ashamed of what you’d endured. No, the years of sexual assualt you’d suffered at the hands of your mother’s boyfriend and the men he pimped you out to had made you stronger, given you courage, tenacity, drive to make something of yourself, but the secrets of your past were yours to divulge at your discretion, and you’d lived under a constant cloud of fear that one day, the choice of who to share that information with would be taken from you.

After a moment, Bucky sighed and held out the phone to you. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said softly, and you felt your heart seize in your chest. “Looks like we’ve finally been found out.”

With a confused frown, you took the phone from Bucky and glanced down at the screen. You were suddenly hit with the wildest sense of deja vu as you read the headlines that filled the page, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh at how you’d worried over nothing, or cry over the memories the headlines invoked:

Cold War Love Affair: Winter Soldier Caught in Scandalous Romance with Stark Exec!

Winter Soldier’s Shocking Romance: Bucky Barnes Steals Cap's Flame, Sparks Fly at Avengers’ Tower!

Captain America Left in the Cold? Winter Soldier Spotted Getting Cozy with Stark Industries CTO!

Is Bucky Barnes Breaking the Bro Code? Winter Soldier Moves In on Captain America’s Girl!

Demotion in Rank? Stark Industry’s Tech Queen Downgrades from Captain to Sergeant!

Winter Soldier & Stark's Leading Lady: Romance Heats Up Between Avengers' Baddest and Brightest!

You ended up breathing out a relieved laugh. Your past remained behind closed doors, exactly where you wanted it to stay and, unlike the last time you found yourself the subject of tabloid fodder, at least you were being romantically linked to the right man for a change. Granted, you could have done without the implication that you and Steve had any sort of romantic history, but you’d take what you could get when it came to these vultures.

Bucky, however, looked like he was about to be sick.

“Baby?” you asked tentatively as you put the phone down and picked up his hand. “Are you okay? Why do you look so upset?”

Bucky exhaled loudly and looked up at you through his lashes. “I’m so sorry, Pocket,” he said softly.

You looked at him, baffled by his demeanor. “Sorry? Buck… what on earth do you have to be sorry about? So people finally found out about us– so what? It’s not like we were ever keeping us a secret.”

“I know,” he sighed, running his hands through his hair, “but this…” he nodded toward the phone, “this can’t be good for your reputation. I can’t be good for your reputation.”

“Fuck my reputation,” you scoffed playfully, picking up the phone as you began looking through the headlines again. “Baby, the only people who’s opinions of me I give a shit about are you and the people who live in the Tower. I couldn’t possibly care less what the general public thinks of me. We don’t owe them anything. We don’t belong to them.” 

Bucky gave you a look as though you were being incredibly naive. “Sweetheart, people hate me. They wanna see me locked away for the rest of my life for the things I’ve done. They’re gonna look at you, and they’re not gonna see the brilliant, amazing woman that you are. They’re gonna see someone willing to date a monster. And they’re gonna judge you for it. They’re gonna treat you differently because of it, punish you for loving me, and I’m so sorry for that.”

You barked out an unintended laugh as you reviewed the comments on one of the articles. “Baby, I don’t think you have to worry about that.” He looked at you with a puzzled expression. “Oh, they definitely seem to hate me, alright,” you added, turning the phone back for him to look at, “but it’s not for the reasons you think.”

He curiously took the phone from your hands and scrolled through the comments, his face growing more and more angry as he read: bbarneslover: Ugh, how does she land Bucky Barnes? She's literally just… a nerd. → makemehowlcommando: Wow, really? Her? Guess even superheroes lower their standards sometimes.       → bbarneslover: I could treat him way better. What does she even have that the rest of us don't?

→ wintersoldierwifu: How much ya’ll wanna bet it’s just a PR stunt?!

→ hydrahottie4bucky: She better watch out. Bucky deserves someone who actually appreciates him—not someone chasing clout who fucked his best friend! → wokeupwithbucky: I can’t believe Bucky would fall for someone like her! It should be me! →hydrahottie4bucky: She’s only with him because of the Avengers connection, not because she cares about him! → bucky’snaughtynightmare: She couldn’t care less about Bucky’s trauma. She’s just after the Avengers clout, obviously. → barnesinmybedroom: Bitch probably doesn’t even understand Bucky's past like real fans do!

→ bucky'snaughtynightmare: First Captain America, now Bucky? I don’t want to call slut, but… → bbarneslover: Girl’s out here collecting Avengers like Pokémon. We all know the rumors about her and Tony Stark. → bucky’snaughtynightmare: Pathetic. What, is there some “Collect All Avengers” achievement we don’t know about?

→ barnesridesmerough: I’m sorry, but how does a glorified IT girl snag two Avengers? Must be some kind of tech magic.     → bucky’snaughtynightmare: Magic tech vagina, maybe.

→ makemehowlcommando: She’s just Cap’s leftovers. Bucky deserves so much better than some sloppy seconds! → bucky’sbadgirl: It’s obviously a attention thing for her. Can’t believe Bucky’s falling for this! → barnesridesmerough: I give it a month before he comes to his senses and dumps her. She’s not right for him! → makemehowlcommando: LOL, she won’t last a week. He’ll get bored and dump her for someone interesting. → barnesridesmerough: From your lips to Bucky’s ears! Ugh, this girl sucks!

→ brooklynbadboylover: Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Why does he make me so feral?! → bucky’sbadgirl: He could choke me out any day. Either with his arm or his dick, idc… → darkchocolate78: Ya’ll need Jesus. Besides. I think they're cute together.

The scowl on Bucky’s face was almost adorable as you watched him grow offended on your behalf. “How do we get them to take this stuff down?” he asked you. 

You gently took the phone back from him and began typing away at the comments section. “Not really much we can do about it, Buckaroo,” you told him. “Once it’s on the internet, it’s pretty much forever.

Bucky frowned at your lack of concern. “I’m not just gonna sit back and let a bunch of strangers talk shit about you like that, Pocket.”

“I’ve heard much worse, trust me,” you said with a shrug. “Besides, why should I be mad when they’re just jealous? I can’t blame them. You’re fucking delicious. I feel sorry for them for not being me.” You quirked an eyebrow at him over your phone, trying to be playful, but he wasn’t having it. You snorted as you finished typing. “Besides, I’m not doing ‘nothing.’” You grinned as you turned your phone back to him so he could see what you just typed. → BuckyBarnesFucker69: Oh, I’m sure she sucks alright… like a fucking Hoover. Probably the only reason he’s kept her around as long as he has. Only thing a mouth like that is good for. “Pocket, this…” Bucky spluttered, “this is awful! I—” He stopped and turned to look at you as you started laughing maniacally. His gaze went between you and the comment in front of him, then back again. “You’re BuckyBarnesFucker69, aren’t you?”

You bit your lip, trying to fight the grin that was desperate to escape across your face. “Mayyyyybee,” you offered mischieviously. 

Bucky glared at you, a combination of confusion and frustration clouding his features. “Why the fuck would you play into this?” he asked. “It’s like… you’re letting them bully you.”

His indignance on your behalf warmed your heart and you scooted closer to him to wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s very sexy that you want to defend my honor, Buck,” you said, pressing your lips to the stubble on his cheek. “But you don’t have to worry about it– I’m in on the joke, now. They think they’re laughing at me, but they don’t realize they’re actually laughing with me. So, I win.”

Bucky’s gaze was skeptical as studied your face. “You’re certifiable. You realize that, right?” he asked eventually, a slight smile pulling at the edge of his lips. 

“Uh huh,” you agreed with an enthusiastic nod. “But you love my brand of crazy.”

Bucky sighed dramatically. “God help me, I do,” he said, pulling you down into his lap. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face before his gaze turned serious again. “Are you sure this is all okay, though, doll?” he asked.

You repositioned yourself on his lap, straddling his thighs as you turned to face him. “I’m sure,” you told him. “I know it’s hard for you to believe sometimes, but I’m proud to be your girl, Bucky Barnes. I don’t care if the whole world knows it. Fuck, I want them to know it. I want them to look at you and see the man I see, every time. To see all the good things about you that I love so much.”

Bucky’s gaze turned soft as he stroked your cheek with his flesh thumb. “And what are all the good things you love about me?”

You pulled back slightly, giving him a wary look. “Oh, fishing for compliments now, are we?” you teased.

The grin he gave you was enough to light a fire low in your belly. “Maybe one or two,” he admitted cheekily. 

“You have a magic dick,” you told him with a grin. Your natural instinct was to make a joke of it, and you thought you were going to keep going in that vein, but in the moment, you suddenly felt the need to be serious, to be honest with him. “You’re a good man. Even after everything you’ve been through, you still try. No one would ever fault you if you just threw in the towel and said ‘fuck it, I’m done,’ but that’s not who you are. You keep fighting, even when you don’t have to, but you do it because it’s the right thing to do. You do it so that other people won’t suffer the way you were made to suffer. 

“You make me laugh, Bucky. You’re warm, and kind, and yeah, you occasionally fuck up sometimes, but you learn from it. You’re always striving to be a better version of yourself, and you make me want to be a better version of myself, too. You–” you had to pause to clear your throat. Somewhere along the way, you realized you’d started getting worked up with emotion. 

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I know… I know I’m not always an easy person to love. I know I have my issues, and a lot of guys would have looked at all my damage and probably just run in the opposite direction, but not you. You’ve never been anything but patient and loving and gentle with me.” You choked back a soft sob. “I never thought anyone would ever be able to love me, with my history and my baggage, but there you were. And baby, you love me better than I could have ever even wished for, because despite everything you’ve been through, you have such a big heart. And that’s what I love about you the most– they put you through hell, and you’d be well within your rights to turn your back on the entire fucking planet, but you don’t. You choose to save it. Every damned day, you make the choice to be a good man. And I fucking love you for it.” 

You sniffed and wiped at your face, your hand coming away wet with tears. “Shit,” you laughed, embarrassed at the way your emotions had taken over. “Was not planning on going full-drama on you. Should have just stuck with the ‘magic dick’ part. Sorry.”

Bucky was silent as you regained your composure, looking at you with an intensity that unnerved you.

“Say something, Buck," you chuckled in an awkward attempt to relieve the tension you felt under his gaze, "otherwise I’m going to think I embarrassed myself right out of this relationship.” You weren’t sure what you wanted him to say to you– just reassure you hadn’t made a complete fool of yourself in front of him, you supposed, but when he opened his mouth, he took you completely by surprise.

“Marry me.”

<- Previous / Next ->

[mulloey]

restraint • seonghwa

you embarrass seonghwa in front of his colleagues.

tags: hard dom!seonghwa, sub!reader. professor seonghwa. this is quite intense. specific warnings below.

word count: 8.3k

warnings: punishment, pet play, humiliation, impact play, mean angry dom!seonghwa, scolding, praise, heavy degradation, mild piss play (reader pisses on the floor), deep throating, gagging, fingering, choking, safeword mention, begging, fucking, sir kink, mild cum play, bdsm dynamics. this is a little gross sorry. the sections with piss are marked so they can be avoided without taking away from the fic.

DON’T LIKE, DON’T READ. HATE IS DELETED AND BLOCKED.

—————

You should be at home right now. On a Friday night at 7PM, you should be falling asleep on the couch while waiting for your boyfriend to serve dinner. Or curled up next to him, one hand in his hair while you watch TV. Or kissing him. Or touching him. Or…anything. Anything but this.

But here you are, in a strapless dress and painful black heels, silently observing the laughing gaggle of your boyfriend’s colleagues, dressed to impress for another very important, cannot-be-missed-under-any-circumstances work event.

Your boyfriend, Seonghwa, is on the other side of the room, talking to some girl from his work with a little too much enthusiasm for your liking. Not that you're worried that he’d cheat on you, no, Seonghwa is the single most loyal person you’ve met, and he reminds you of how much he loves you every single day. It’s just that you're not ignorant to how goddamn attractive he is. You're not ignorant to the undeniable fact that wherever they go, there'll be about 15 girls and a couple of guys who would take your place by his side in an instant. You see it in their eyes. See it in the eyes of the girl he’s talking to now.

You don't blame her. He’s easy to fall for, with his soft hands and loud laugh and impossibly brown eyes. And that, of course, is just at first sight. The layered, complex man underneath that perfect exterior is more than enough to rival his more superficial appeals.

The pristine Professor Park, the picture of class, intellect, and pretty much every positive adjective you could possibly think of. Always impeccably dressed, never without a quote from a novel or paper or film, always knowing what to say and how to say it. Just completely and utterly perfect.

And, rumour has it, nothing less than an animal in the bedroom. You both know the tales that are told of him across campus - tales of hickeys hidden beneath turtlenecks, strange noises and suspicious silences from behind the locked door of his office, and of course his insistence that if a certain someone calls his office, no one, under any circumstances, is to ask if they can take a message. That rule, and the incident that had spawned it (and spawned a whole lot more in the privacy of your bedroom), is more than enough to paint a picture of what you definitely heard a student refer to as a ‘love-making beast’.

You swallow a laugh at the thought. If only they knew. If only they fucking knew.

The girl he’s talking to certainly seems keen on finding out. You watch her closely, following her eyes as she looks the man up and down.

Seonghwa says something and the girl giggles, twirling a strand of brown hair round your finger with nothing but heart eyes for the man before her. If Seonghwa is aware of what she’s doing, he doesn’t show it. He just listens to her as she speaks, her soft, admittedly almost velvety voice only just heard above the clash of music and chatter. But he looks slightly bored, which brings you some comfort at least. You catch his eye when he turns away briefly and he frowns at your expression. He excuses himself from his companion and strolling over to you, looking concerned.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your hair, snaking an arm around your waist. “You’re annoyed.”

You relax into his touch, closing your eyes for a second before turning to meet his gaze. You swallow. Even now, as his eyes stare into yours, full of love and concern, his stare is somehow intimidating. Everything about him is, even in his softest moments; the way he moves, the way he speaks, the way he touches you is all power and control and dominance, a constant reminder of exactly who’s in charge, exactly who owns you.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks softly.

“Nothing,” you say all too quickly.

He raises an eyebrow. “Nothing?”

“Well. You.”

“Me,” he says with a hum. “What about me?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You flinch at the coldness in your voice, a coldness that clearly doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who stares at you in confusion. You soften slightly, words quiet and as gentle as you can get them right now. “I’m going to get a drink. I just… sorry.”

Seonghwa nods, and, clearly trying to figure out what’s got you so irritated, grabs your arm as you turn to leave, immobilising you.

“Baby,” he says, voice low. “Watch it.”

Then he releases you, shoves you into the crowd and you gulp, ignoring the fire his words had started in your stomach as you weave through the guests crowding the living room. The smell of alcohol is all around you as you approach the kitchen, but right now you're intoxicated on something else entirely. His words echo in your head, emboldened by the dangerous tone with which they’d been spoken and you can’t make yourself think of anything else.

Just three words. Three little words, and you're dizzy. He knows the effect he has on you. Practically feeds off of it.

When you return to the living room, clutching the two bottles of beer you’d retrieved for your and your perfect boyfriend, the girl from before is back next to him. This time, her hand is around his waist.

Your resolve snaps, vision clouded as you, barely aware of yourself, drop the beers to the floor and stride towards the two.

“What the fuck is this?” You seethe, trying and failing to keep your voice at a whisper — by now, the party has all but stopped to watch the much more interesting show unfolding.

Seonghwa mutters your name, tone warning. “Don’t,” he says but you barely hear him, your focus on the woman who has quickly distanced herself from him, face pink.

“I’m sorry,” she starts. “I didn’t know he—”

“Yeah?” You laugh. “Well you do now. Go whore yourself out to another one of your seniors.”

You hear gasps echo around the room, but no one looks more surprised — or angry — than Seonghwa.

You mumble an apology and retreat to the kitchen, more embarrassed than you’ve ever been in your life. You can’t believe you stood and berated someone over a man like you’re a fucking teenager.

You hear the kitchen door open then close and you don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“What the fuck was that?” Seonghwa hisses.

“Baby, I—”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he snaps. You flinch, caught off guard by his tone and he seems to soften slightly at your surprise, but the anger on his face remains.

“You—” you start, but he cuts you off as if he hasn’t even heard you.

“Explain,” he says. “Now.”

“Seonghwa, please-”

“Now,” he repeats, nearing a yell. “I mean it. You won’t like what happens if you don’t.”

“She was touching you, Seonghwa,” you whine. you reach for his face but he gently slaps your hand away.

“I know she was,” Seonghwa says. “And I was going to deal with that. Until you decided that it was your responsibility, your right, to try and discipline my colleagues.”

“I—”

“No,” he says. “Go and get your coat, we’re going home.”

You nod, mumbling another apology before walking to the cloak room. You sit in there for a few minutes, trying to calm down, and give Seonghwa the chance to do the same, before you walk back to where he is. But when you see him he’s barely moved, and his expression is, dangerously, still the same.

“Are you really angry at me?” You ask softly. You know you’ve fucked up but you’d thought he’d have calmed down enough to not be overly angry. But apparently not.

“Yes,” he says, apparently electing not to sugarcoat the severity of the situation. Not that you were expecting him to; Seonghwa has always been upfront like that, seeing no point in lying to soften the blow. You’ve fucked up and he’s not going to waste time pretending that you haven’t.

He helps you put your coat on, still gentlemanly (for now) but briefly grabs the back of your neck as you fasten it. He stares at you for a second, expression blank before he releases his grip with a scoff.

“I don’t want to fight when we get home,” you say softly.

“We’re not going to fight,” Seonghwa responds.

You blink, caught off guard by his statement. Based on his reaction, you were certain this was going to end in a screaming match. Hopefully one that ends with the best sex you’ve had in weeks, but you don't want to risk the off chance that the night will instead end at a friend’s house if things get messy.

“We’re not?”

“No.” Frowning, Seonghwa turns back to face you. “I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

—————

The drive home is silent, Seonghwa clearly too irritated to do anything but focus on the road and you too afraid to speak lest you make it worse for yourself, but the tension between the two, and the lingering threat of whatever the hell Seonghwa has planned for you when you get home, is louder than anything either of you could say. It’s everywhere; in his body language, written on his face and in the intensity of the gaze that he never moves from the road. It’s in the way his hand grips your thigh, normally gentle touches suddenly rough, hard, a vessel through which he channels the anger that cannot wait until you get home to be released.

What’s he going to do today? At the party he’d promised punishment, but that could mean any number of things. you try to recall the previous punishments you’ve faced at his hands, browsing through memories to try and figure out which one he might choose today. That’s if you're lucky (or unlucky) enough to receive only one.

He’s fucked your mouth a few times, but once he caught onto how much you enjoyed it it became a less frequent punishment. Humiliation is common - you shudder at the memory of his smug smile as you’d walked around the rooftop garden of your shared apartment, completely naked save for the collar you wore only when he felt you needed reminding of who you belonged to. Or when he’d suddenly revoked furniture privileges, demanding you kneel on the floor as he ate, watched TV, slept. A shudder runs down your spine at the thought, but as you consider it more you realise that Seonghwa is most likely too angry to choose something like that today. That’s for when you've been teasing him, toying with him, for when the punishment is as much a form of fun as it is discipline. But today, you can tell you’ve pushed him beyond that. He’s properly, dangerously angry, and he needs release. He needs to show you who’s in charge, and exactly what happens when you disobey him.

What the fuck is he going to do to you?

Looking back out the window, you realise you’re pulling into your street, and as the car starts to slow you feel your heart begin to race in anticipation, the sound of it echoing in your skull with a similar intensity to the fear that fills your body when the car stops and Seonghwa turns off the engine.

“Get out,” he says, leaving no room for conversation or argument.

You huff but comply, dragging yourself towards your building and up the steps. Your steps are small and slow, an attempt to delay the punishment that surely awaits, but your plan doesn’t escape Seonghwa and he shoves you towards the door with a low chuckle.

“Not gonna work, baby. Faster.”

You curse every God that could possibly exist when you see the elevator is already waiting for you, as if Seonghwa had somehow called ahead to ensure that every effort would be made to speed up your punishment. Seonghwa says nothing as you step in and press the button of your floor, and though you dread the thought of what’s going through his head, you almost wish he would say something. Just so you could get an idea of how angry he is.

As if he’d read your mind, he speaks. “Just so you know,” he says, and the tone alone tells you more than enough, “If I were less opposed to the idea of being arrested, I’d belt your ass black and blue right here in this elevator.”

Your jaw drops. “Oh.” Belting is rare. He’s done it a few times, of course, but it’s generally reserved for your very worst behaviour. Surely you haven't been that bad tonight. Have you?

“But I’m not going to belt you tonight,” he says, placing a hand on your lower back as you exit the elevator. “Unless you decide to be even more of a brat. It’s just that what I have planned would be… well, as disgusting as I am, doing that in an elevator is a line I still won’t cross.”

Okay, he definitely has some sick shit planned for you. Probably something illegal.

Your heart quickens as you turn the corner, bringing your apartment into view. You feel Seonghwa tense next to you as you walk and turn your head, quickly sneaking a look at his face. Fuck. You know that look. Eyes dark and scheming. Lips curled into a small smile. Eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought. This is not Seonghwa, your sweet, caring boyfriend who makes you breakfast in bed and looks at you like you have the world in your eyes. This is Seonghwa, your dominant, whose every move oozes power and control, who uses and abuses you however, whenever he wants.

Who can do anything he wants to you and knows it.

You are so fucked.

————

“Look at this.”

His words are soft, arousal filled as he takes in the sight before him. And what a sight it must be.

You stand in the middle of the living room, sleek black collar the only thing covering your otherwise naked body. The word carved into the inside is an ever-present and all too familiar feeling on your neck. The burn of humiliation as you’d watched Seonghwa put it on you, pausing to point out the engraving, still lingers within you as it presses into your tender skin. Slut.

You’re cold and uncomfortable and you feel completely humiliated. Seonghwa, on the other hand, appears entirely at bliss, lounging comfortably on the couch and sipping a glass of red wine as his eyes roam your naked body. Despite you being too nervous, too embarrassed to meet his gaze, you feel his eyes on you, examining you as though you were a priceless work of art rather than the girl he’d stripped and abandoned in the middle of his living room.

Your hands are raised above your head, at his orders of course, making it impossible for you to cover your breasts, to cover the nipples that have hardened as a result of the air conditioning, which you have no doubt he had turned up to full on purpose.

Seonghwa takes another sip of his wine, a small smile on his face, then speaks. “Enjoying yourself?”

You huffs. “You know I’m not, Seonghwa.”

Forgetting yourself, you almost slap your hand across your mouth. What the fuck did you just say? That’s not his fucking name.

“What was that?” He asks coolly.

“I’m sorry, sir, I meant sir, I promise.” You start to trip over your words in your panic, but Seonghwa gets the message.

“Much better. I’m really not in the mood to put you over my knee tonight, my dear, as much as I think you expected me to.”

You almost miss the smile that flickers across his face at your reaction. You’re so transparent.

The smile disappears, replaced with the straight, unreadable expression from before. “You do know why you’re being punished, don’t you?” He asks.

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Tell me,” he says, leaning forwards in his seat. “Tell me what you did.”

“I insulted that girl,” you say. “And I embarrassed you in front of everyone.”

He shakes his head, unsatisfied. “Not just a girl. A colleague. A new colleague. Are you trying to tarnish my reputation?”

“What?” You say before you can stop yourself. Seonghwa raises an eyebrow. You correct yourself. “No, sir, of course not.”

“Yet there you were,” he says. “Humiliating me in front of my colleagues, disobeying my orders in public while they look on. Where are your manners, pet?”

You bite your lip, almost whining at the mention of that nickname. Dirty move.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was annoyed.”

“You made a fool out of me,” Seonghwa says. “As your boyfriend, and as your dominant.”

You hang your head, ashamed. Now that your head is clearer you feel his words even deeper. He’s right. Seonghwa has never cared for others' opinions on your relationship. It’s only his professional reputation — the thing that puts food on the table and keeps the cupboard stuffed with toys — that he cares about. And you should have known better than to risk it like that.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“I know you are,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to punish you. You know I do, sweetheart. It’s how you learn.”

There's no anger in his voice now. Just disappointment. And you fucking hate it. Hate it when you let him down, hate the sadness in his eyes when he watches your misbehave, watches you ignore his rules and lessons and guidance, everything he’d created for your benefit, your protection, you. Everything you so easily disregarded for the sake of a jealous rant. Fuck. You’ve fucked up.

A twinge of guilt pulls at you and you nod demurely. If you’ve ever deserved to be punished, you deserve it now.

“I understand, sir.”

“There we are,” he smiles. “It’s so much easier when you behave, isn't it?”

“Yes, sir.”

He nods, satisfied. “Good,” he says. “Keep this obedience up and it’ll be a lot better for you.”

He leans back, keeping his eyes on you as you stand there. After a few minutes confusion overtakes you and you shyly speak.

“Sir, are we— are you going to make me do anything else?” You ask, still baffled by the mildness of the punishment.

“That depends on your behaviour,” Seonghwa responds. “If you decide to be good, there'll be no more punishment. If not…” he pauses, leans back in his seat without shifting his gaze from you. He reaches for his belt, finger tracing the black leather. His hand twitches as it crosses the buckle and the slight smile on his face suggests that the memories of the belt impacting your ass are just as present in his mind as they are in yours. “This is still on the table.”

“Oh,” you say.

He stares for a moment then smiles, tilting his head almost cutely. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Huh?” You frown, confused. You’re not sure what exactly you’re supposed to be getting, so you guess he’s right. Whatever ‘it’ is, you don’t get it.

He laughs slightly, shaking his head like you’re missing something obvious. “No matter, then,” he says, “just stay like this. No moving.”

You nod and do as he says, wanting to be good now. Seconds stretch into minutes which pass by like hours, but still nothing happens. You stand in position and Seonghwa watches you, slowly making his way through a glass of wine that you too could really use right now. His gaze is sharp but not particularly interested, more like he’s monitoring you than watching you. Which you guess is accurate; in a way that’s what he’s doing, monitoring you and your punishment, looking for any signs of you faltering or disobeying, or more importantly, for any signs that you’re reaching your limit. But you’re not reaching your limit. You’re not doing anything.

Eventually Seonghwa gets bored and, apparently, is satisfied that you’re being obedient enough for him to pick up a book next to him. You recognise it as one he’s mentioned wanting to start; something Greek, you think. You watch as he reads; his brows are furrowed slightly as the small amount of alcohol he’s consumed has made it slightly harder to focus. After a while you feel the familiar feeling of discomfort and shyly speak up. “Sir?”

Seonghwa hums, not lifting his gaze from his book.

“I— I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Then go,” he says, still not looking up.

Brevity is the soul of wit, they say. You linger for a second, unsure of yourself, then start to walk. You barely make it two steps before Seonghwa’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“Who told you to move?”

‘What?’ you think. Of course you’re going to move. How else are you supposed to— oh. Oh. The realisation of what he’s suggesting, commanding, almost knocks you off your feet. Holy shit. “Sir, I don’t— are you kidding?” you splutter.

Seonghwa says nothing, the words does it look like I’m fucking kidding? written across his blank face. Bastard.

“You’ve lost the privilege of using the facilities of this house.” He says it so seriously, so formally that he seems like a businessman closing a deal rather than a man directing his girlfriend to piss on the living room floor.

You have no idea what to say, what to think, how to react to his request— no, not request. Seonghwa doesn’t make requests. This is nothing less than an order. “Sir, I—”

“That privilege,” he continues, “is for good girls. And you have not been good. So you can piss on the floor like a dog.”

You baulk. Holy shit. He’s actually serious. That… is beyond anything you’ve ever done. Or discussed. Is he actually going to make you do this? Do you even want this? Sure, you love when he treats you like an animal, when he humiliates and degrades you until the only thing on your mind is being fucked, but this is something else. You can’t do this. Can you?

“If you’re not comfortable,” Seonghwa says, “You can safeword. I won’t be angry. But I don’t think you want to, do you?”

Fuck. The safeword hadn’t even crossed your mind. You’re unsure about this, of course you are — it’s new and unclear and beyond anything you’ve ever even considered — but the idea of using your safeword, of ending all this, never seeing where it would go, what would happen, had never even occurred to you. Maybe you do want this. To piss on the floor while Seonghwa watches, to feel the burn of humiliation that he’s made sure is painfully familiar. To feel like the animal you become only for him. Because of him.

You speak quietly, voice barely a whisper, and the words send a rush of humiliation down your spine.

“I don’t, sir.”

Seonghwa smiles. “Good girl.” He leans back in his chair, eyes never leaving your reddening face. The book is closed on his lap now, and he takes a small sip of his wine as he waits for you to begin.

You have no idea what to do. Well, you know what you have to do, you have to piss on the floor while your boyfriend watches, but how do you… do you just start? Do you just stand there and piss?

He watches you silently, blank face a contrast to impatient eyes and you shift uncomfortably beneath his gaze. You wouldn’t dare ask him to turn away while you does it — it would kind of defeat the point, anyway, and you don’t want to know how he’d react to you resisting punishment — but the knowledge that Seonghwa — tall, strong, domineering Seonghwa who’d been the apple of so many eyes at the party — is about to watch your piss on the floor, ass naked, like some sort of animal, does nothing for your pride. Not that Seonghwa allows you much of it, anyway.

“I’m not a patient man, you know,” he says. “So I’d advise you to hurry up.”

“Yes sir, I’m sorry, it’s just— how can we— how will we even clean it up?” You splutter, unable to select just one of the millions of questions burning in your mind.

“That is none of your concern,” Seonghwa answers with a smile. “All you have to do is be a good little girl and piss on the floor like you’ve been told to.”

You nod but don’t move, still not quite able to force yourself to do it.

“Don’t act like this is beneath you,” Seonghwa says. “I know you. I know you’re just a dog built for the sole purpose of taking my dick, and it’s about time I treated you like one. So piss on the fucking floor before I think of another way to punish you.”

Shit. Okay. You can do this. you just have to— fuck...

“Whatever’s making you hesitate, let go of it,” Seonghwa says, leaning forward. “You don’t seem to know your place. I do. So let go.”

“Sir,” you whisper.

“Let go,” Seonghwa repeats. “I won’t say it again.”

—

[STARTS HERE]

—

Eventually you manage. You close your eyes, trying to shut out your surroundings and it works. You feel it start, trickling down your legs and you flush crimson. You want to die.

“Look at you,” Seonghwa spits. “You’re filthy.”

“Fuck, Seonghwa, I—”

It keeps going, trickling down your legs and pooling around your feet and it’s disgusting. You feel disgusting. Not to mention how humiliating it is to be ass naked while your boyfriend still has his fucking shoes on.

But that same humiliation twists in your gut, colliding with your arousal and the emotions crash into each other like waves against a rock, eating away at you, wearing you down so slowly you doesn’t realise it until it’s too late and you’re drowning in it and the only thing you want to do is fall to your knees in pure worship.

You cry out, overcome by the millions of sensations that explode in your body and mind like fireworks. Who knew pissing could be so… this?

“Dirty bitch, aren’t you?” Seonghwa says. “Pissing on the floor like a fucking animal.”

“I- fuck, sir- I am.”

“What are you, baby?” Seonghwa asks. “Say it. Tell me what you are.”

“An animal, sir,” you say between gasps. “I’m your animal.”

“That you are. And such a good one, darling. Are we done?”

Unable to form any sound resembling a word, you nod. Seonghwa gives a proud smile and rises from the couch, discarding the glass of wine on the side table. He doesn’t approach you. Just stands there.

“I would come closer,” he says, “but I don’t want to step in your mess.”

You say nothing, just turn your gaze towards the mess he speaks of with such disgust. It’s disgusting, you're aware of that. You both are. It’s disgusting to stare at your own piss on the living room floor while your boyfriend degrades you, and you’ve never felt so humiliated, so embarrassed, so ashamed. But you’s also never been this fucking horny.

“Well? Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” Seonghwa asks, slowly inching towards you. He scoffs. “Stupid dog. Can’t think of anything but getting fucked, can you?”

“Sir,” you almost scream, “Sir, please, fucking hell, please.”

“Please what, darling?” He asks, cocking his head. What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t— fuck sir.”

Seonghwa chuckles, amused eyes looking you up and down. “Look at you. I haven’t even touched you and you’re already a fucking mess. Come here.”

You blank for a second while your clouded mind processes his words then move to walk towards him, but you’re stopped in your tracks by Seonghwa’s noise of disapproval. “That won’t do,” he says.

“What?”

“I don’t think you’ve earned the right to walk. Crawl.”

You pussy throbs at the command and you swallow, cheeks flushed as you get down on all fours. In a pool of your own piss. Holy shit.

You go slowly, one hand after the other and you feel absolutely fucking vile. You can’t believe you're doing this and some part of you doesn’t want to believe it, but you can’t bring yourself to give a shit. You’ve never needed your boyfriend, his dick, more in your entire life than you do right now. And based on the dent in Seonghwa’s dress pants as he sits back down on the couch, and the sweat that’s already building on his face, the feeling is mutual.

You crawl to his feet, stilling when he places a firm hand in your hair and pulls your face towards his crotch. “Good girl,” he hums, then lifts your face and pulls it towards him, forcing eye contact. “What a good dog I have.”

“Fuck. Sir,” you whisper.

“I’m here, pup. But you aren’t quite forgiven yet.”

He hands you wet cloth you didn’t know he had, instructing you to dry your hands and you do. “Stand,” he orders.

With shaking legs to stand up and he takes the cloth, using it to run up and down your legs until you’re clean. He scrubs you harshly, until your shins are red and irritated, before he drops the cloth and orders he back down to your knees.

—

[ENDS HERE]

—

“I think you need some reminding of who you belong to,” he says. “Open your mouth.”

Hesitantly you obey him, watching as he pulls his dick out of his pants. Even now, you’re always a little surprised by the size. He doesn’t give you any time to speak, shoving his dick into your mouth without warning. You choke at first, surprised by the intrusion but you quickly get used to it His dick is thick and wet and you devour it; lick it, suck it, gag on it, let Seonghwa force it down your throat over and over until it’s the only thing you feel, the only thing you want, the only thing you can think about. Seonghwa grunts and moans, gives rough praises that you can’t comprehend. He grabs the back of your head, pushing you further down onto his dick and he smiles.

“You don’t really need to breathe, do you?”

He doesn’t give you time to react before he forces himself even further into your throat and it burns, burns in the most delicious fucking way and you love it, love the way he thrusts into your throat with no mercy, no concern for you or your comfort. This is about his pleasure and his only. Right now, you exist solely to serve him, to serve his dick and you fucking love it.

“That’s it,” he groans.

He thrusts into your again and it fucking hurts but the scream you let out is muffled by his dick, drowned out by his loud, pleasured groans.

You rise off your knees, trying to get closer to him, to take more of him in your mouth, but he pushes you back down.

“No fucking moving, dog. Remember your place,” he says. “Remember who’s in charge here.”

You say nothing, paying no attention to his words as you lean forward again and force him down your throat. you don’t care who’s in charge. Don’t care about following his orders or respecting his authority. You need him. All of him.

But instead of giving you what you want, he pushes you off his dick and slaps you across the face.

You gasp at the impact, lifting a hand to your stinging cheek with a moan of pain. Seonghwa gives you a second to recover before he slaps you again, just as hard on the other cheek and you scream.

“Greedy bitch,” he spits. “Are you that fucking desperate?”

“Sir,” you whine, still clutching your stinging cheeks. “Ow, sir, please.”

“Quiet,” he says. “I don’t want another word out of you. All I want you to do is be a good little mutt and suck my dick exactly how I tell you to. Am I clear?”

“But sir, I want—”

He grabs a fistful of hair, pulling your face towards his. “I don’t care,” he says lowly, “what you want. You are nothing to me. Now tell me. Am I clear?”

You say nothing, just give a small whine and Seonghwa’s grip in your hair tightens, a small sneer on his lips.

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks mockingly.

You turn away, biting your lip. Seonghwa chuckles, hand still in your hair, and pulls you back to face him. Your tear filled eyes stare into his and he gives a small smile.

“So pretty,” he mumbles. “But so worthless.”

“Sir,” you breathe.

“And so polite,” he praises. “Too little too late, though, unfortunately.”

“I know, sir.”

“I’m sure you do. But it’s too late,” he says, shaking his head. “So here's what’s going to happen.”

You perk up, ready to listen. Seonghwa smiles for a moment, almost fond.

“You’re going to do everything I say,” he says. “When I say it. Starting with this.”

He grabs you again, pulls you towards him with a groan and shoves his dick back into your mouth without warning. You choke, caught off guard and you almost fall back but Seonghwa’s grip in your hair is strong; it forces you to sit upright, forces his dick further and further into your mouth — further than what you’d tried and failed to take minutes earlier and it’s almost too much. You whine and moan and scream around his dick but he ignores you, presses on as if you were nothing to him and you fucking love it. This is what you needed.

Seonghwa sighs contentedly. “You’re so much prettier with your mouth full,” he says.

As usual, his words go right to your stomach and he seems to notice, for he chuckles slightly before giving a quick thrust into your mouth. You take it all, letting him thrust in again and again with no regard for your or your pleasure. Just using you, carelessly like a toy.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Yeah, baby. Take it.”

You whine but nod, letting him thrust in and out as he pleases.

“I’m going to cum in your mouth,” he says matter-of-factly. “And you’re going to swallow every last drop. Aren’t you?”

Too preoccupied with the dick in your mouth, you just groan. Seonghwa, of course, gets the message. “Good. Because if you don’t,” he says, “I will make you wish you’d never met me.”

His voice is sweet but the words send a shiver down your spine. You have no doubt that he would follow through on his promise should he deem it necessary. And as much as you love pushing him, seeing how he reacts; love being on the other end of him at his very worst, you're not in the mood for that now. Right now, you just want to be fucked. And you're going to do everything you can to make it happen.

He thrusts again, a soft groan escaping his lips and you lean into it, taking everything he gives you until he comes with a groan, unloading into your mouth. You swallow it all, careful not to miss a drop as he watches you with dark eyes. When he’s done he pulls out, grabbing the back of your hair and pulling your face towards his cock.

“Lick it clean,” he says.

You obey, licking every inch of his cock until it’s as good as new.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your groan, rubbing your head against Seonghwa’s legs and he runs a gentle hand through your hair. “Took that so well, baby. Gonna fuck you soon.”

Oh thank God. “Please,” you cry and Seonghwa chuckles.

The hand in your hair suddenly turns rough and then it’s pulling you from where you kneel and up towards Seonghwa, until you stand on unsure feet, staring right into his dark, blazing eyes.

“Be a good girl for me, will you?”

Before you can react, he’s dragged you to the edge of the couch and shoved you forward. You blush — as if you have any shame left in you — and settle into the familiar position. Bent over the couch. Exactly where he wants you. Exactly where you belong.

You feel his presence behind you, feel his stare on your back as you adjust to the new position, and it feels exposed, vulnerable, but at the same time safe and secure. He’s silent, but his heavy breathing shows he wants you just as much as you want, need, crave him. But he doesn’t move. You know what he’s doing. He’s waiting. Waiting for you to be ready. Waiting for the right moment to take what he wants.

When the moment comes, he doesn’t hesitate. He pounces, like a predator ready to devour its prey. And right now, that’s exactly what he is.

A firm hand presses into your back, immobilising you. His other hand traces your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to your pussy and you clench around his hand, already dripping.

“What to do with you?” He mumbles.

“You know what I want,” you mutter.

Seonghwa laughs and presses a finger to your pussy. He makes a noise of surprise when he finds you already wet and pulls away slightly. You whine at the loss and his hand returns, but this time, he doesn’t waste a second before slipping a finger in. You gasp, kneeling further forward and he chuckles.

“Do I?”

“Fuck me, Seonghwa,” you says. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

Seonghwa stills behind you and you can see the smile forming on his face. You know him well enough to know that what he does next is going to be nothing less than torture.

“Anything, huh?” He asks, voice playful and almost dangerous.

You squirm, almost wanting to take it back. It’s true, you nothing but to be fucked. But something about the tone of his voice, the way he says those dangerous words, has you curious. He’s already taken you further than you’ve ever gone tonight and you’re unsure how much you can handle. But he’s also never been hotter than this and you want him, need him inside you. Filling you to the brim.

“Anything, sir.”

“Oh, dear,” he says. “Surely by now you’d know better than to say things like that.”

“I should,” you whisper. “But you know I don’t.”

“Yes I do,” Seonghwa says. “I also know that as soon as I get my dick out you lose the ability to think. Isn’t that right?”

You nod, so desperate to get fucked that you eagerly agrees with his degredations. He laughs softly, amused by your unravelled state.

“Mhm. All you can think about is my dick. How it would feel inside you.” He presses a second finger to your pussy, lets it linger for a second before slipping it inside and you gasp at the feeling. “How it would fuck you. That’s all sluts like you think about, isn’t it?”

“Fuck, sir,” you moan.

Seonghwa chuckles, pulling your head back and planting a soft kiss to the top. “Oh, I know, baby,” he whispers. “Gonna put another one in now. And you’re gonna take it like a good little slut should be trained to do.”

The third finger slides in before you can respond and you choke, lurching forward. He tuts, pressing down on your hip to keep you in place.

“Nice and still for me, baby,” he says. “Just like I’ve taught you.”

You do your best, lying limp in place as he pumps in and out of you. A million sensations fill you at once and you eventually start to squirm, unable to keep them inside. Seonghwa notices, pausing to lean over you to whisper in your ear.

“When do you come, baby?” He asks.

“When you— fuck, sir.” You throw your head back when he hits your spot with particular precision and Seonghwa grabs your hair, tugging your head back to meet his gaze.

“I’ll ask you again,” he says darkly. “When do you come?”

You moan, writhing slightly in place. “When you say so.”

“When I say so,” he says, satisfied. “And not a moment before. Clench it.”

You squeak, doing your best to tighten yourself around his thick fingers while they continue to pump in and out of you at a punishing pace. You feel his eyes on your pussy and he lets out an affected-sounding noise as you clench around him. “I have no fucking idea,” he grunts, “how you’re still so fucking tight after all this time.”

You groan, voice strangled now as you feel yourself hurtling towards a climax. You’re in no position to respond to him now, not verbally at least, and he recognises that, laughing softly. “God, baby,” he groans. He keeps up his pace, unwavering as he opens you up — in, out, in, out without a break. “I could stretch you out all day and I’d still need to do it again ever. Damn. Time.” He emphasises each word with his fingers and it’s almost too much.

He notices, pressing his other hand down on your back, holding you still against the arm of the couch. “No coming,” he grunts. “Not yet.”

You nod through tears, the only word you can form is his name; over and over again like a prayer. He slows down slightly, letting you breathe and softly asking you for your colour — green, of course, without hesitation — before he starts up again. He eases you back into it but wastes little time, and soon you’re back where you were, hurtling uncontrollably towards your orgasm.

He recognises the signs, observant as ever but lets you suffer for a few more minutes, pushing you to the brink before abruptly pulling his fingers out, leaving you empty and dripping beneath him. You must look pathetic, but you know he loves it. You love it too.

With the strength you have left you turn your head to see your boyfriend standing tall behind you, eyes fixed on you. He keeps eye contact as he inserts each of his soaked fingers into his mouth, sucking the juice off of them one by one. Seonghwa’s always loved the way you taste and as time goes on he’s only gotten more addicted. It's his favourite place to be; kneeling between your legs, each of his hands forcing your thighs apart with his mouth latched onto your pussy, tasting every part of it. He can — and does — stay there for hours. But you can tell from the look in his eyes that tonight he has no such plans.

“It’s so good, baby,” he grins. “Know what you taste like?”

You shake your head and he laughs. He walks closer to you, leaning down to reach your level where you’re still awkwardly bent over the couch. There’s a cocky yet admiring lilt in his voice when he speaks. “Like a slut.”

You make a guttural noise, embarrassed, aroused and proud and he laughs. “Do you want a taste?” He asks.

You nod fervently and he runs his other hand through your hair and down to lightly grip the back of your neck. “Easy, baby,” he says, “you can have it.”

He slips a finger back into you, more carefully this time and it slides in easily with a humiliating squelch. He moves it around inside you, collecting your juices on his finger before pulling it out and feeding it into your mouth. He’s right, you taste good, and you suck on his finger until it’s clean. “Mmm,” he says, “that’s a good slut.”

He pulls his finger out of your mouth with a pop, wiping it down on his black dress pants. He pats your ass, tinged pink from the slaps he’d leisurely rained down on it throughout the evening. “Up,” he says.

You stand on shaking legs, faltering at first but Seonghwa quickly grabs your arms, steadying you and not letting go until he’s certain you can stand independently. He sees the dazed look in your eyes, like you’re in a haze, and smiles. “You’ve been good today,” he says softly. “Well, some of today.”

You smile shyly, avoiding his eyes. “Thank you sir.”

“Look at me,” he says and you look up, meeting his now almost fiery gaze. “You want my dick?”

You exhale, nodding excitedly and he smiles. “And where do you want it, exactly?”

“Sir,” you whine. You know he knows; he’s just furthering your torture as he always does. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Where, pet?” He repeats.

You whine quietly, hanging your head. “My pussy, sir,” you mumble.

He reaches his hand down to cup your pussy and you push into it. His fingers start to move, gently stroking it back and forth and feeling your slick on his fingers, until he pulls away. “Still wet,” he mutters.

You flush, casting your eyes down as you shrug. He smiles, brushing his wet fingers across your lips. He eases them in to let you lick them clean before pulling away. “Get on the couch,” he says, “stick your ass.”

You perk up, squeaking out a ‘yes sir’ before scrambling into position. Seonghwa watches you with an amused expression before taking his place behind you. He pulls his dick out, slapping it against your ass cheeks before he pulls them apart and settles so his dick is pressed against your pussy, soaking up the juices but not quite going in. You whine, wriggling desperately to try and get some friction but he slaps you ass, stilling you. “Don’t be desperate,” he says.

You nod, resting your head on the back of the couch and trying to seem patient. He takes his sweet time, teasing your pussy with his fingers and cock before he finally plunges it in.

Your wetness makes it easier but his size means getting used to him is always a challenge. You feel the stretch as he goes in deeper, just slight enough to be pleasant. It doesn’t take him long to ease all the way in and his dick presses against your spot deliciously. You moan loudly, a guttural sound, and he grabs your hair. He doesn’t speak as he starts to move, focusing on his thrusts as they gradually increase in speed and power until he’s pounding you. Each time he slams into you it makes your whole body shake, moving uncontrollably in tandem with him. You groan, scream and cry as it gets more and more intense and he grunts, only spurred to go faster. After an evening of teasing you know you won’t be able to take this for long and he seems to feel the same. He grunts, shouts and splutters with each movement, losing control of himself the longer he’s in you, the more of a mess you become.

“S-Seonghwa!” You shout, gripping the back of the couch so hard your knuckles turn white.

“F-fuck, I got you,” Seonghwa says. “I got you, my girl.”

You cry out, throwing your head back with lips parted in pleasure. There’s nothing now except you and Seonghwa, the expert blend of pain and pleasure only he can provide you and it’s pure bliss. You could stay like this forever; used and abused and adored by him in whichever way he pleases. And so could he.

He’s relentless as he slams into your cervix again and again and soon it starts to get too much. You feel the tears start to prickle at your eyes and you sniffle, crying louder. He notices, pressing a wet, desperate kiss to your lips as he speeds up. “Take it,” he grunts. “Take it for me, puppy. Make me proud.”

You nod through tears, gritting your teeth as he keeps going. You do your best to stay still, only moving when he makes you, and he presses kisses to the back of your head and neck as he goes.

Eventually you feel him at his edge, on the verge of orgasm and you gather your strength to push back, fucking back into him. As you do so you clench your walls around him, squeezing his cock and he shouts. He lasts a few more thrusts, making them as brutal and pleasurable as possible, before he comes with a yell, unloading inside you. You take it all, though it feels more than usually, and he fucks you through it with grunted praises that you can’t quite decipher. He stays still inside you for a minute or so, pressing kisses down your back before he starts to pull out.

“Keep it in,” he says. When his dick finally pulls out completely

You feel his come start to spill out of you, trickling down your thighs and you whine. Seonghwa tuts. He uses two fingers to gather the cum that’s trickling out of you and pushes it back in. The feeling of his fingers in your pussy again makes you gasp as he kisses your back.

“Come on,” he mutters. He wraps his arms around your body, still kneeling in the position he’d left you, and pulls you into his arms. He takes a seat on the couch and settles you in his lap, your head resting in the crook of his neck as he starts to rock you back and forth.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “That was incredible, baby.”

“Seonghwa,” you mutter, still fucked out and exhausted.

He chuckles, kissing your head. “Seonghwa’s right here, honey. I’m not leaving.”

He speaks low and gently to you as he rocks you and it’s peaceful and perfect. Soon he notices your eyes drooping, lulled to sleep by his voice and he smiles. “Goodnight, baby.”

He thinks you’ve learned your lesson.

—————

thank you for reading! please reblog and comment if you enjoyed :) i did proofread but it is long so there may be errors, please forgive them. i’m a little unsure about posting this fic as it contains things ive never written about before; piss isn’t really my thing but i received a request about it and was fine writing about it. so please tell me what you think!

requests are open! love🖤🖤🖤

[ikinremu]

more harry content please. that is all i ask.

Hi anon!! I’ve been meaning to work on some more Harry content, and this really motivated me so thank you!!! Hope you enjoy :)

Distraction

Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

! Smut Warning !

Tags: P in V, Praise, Unprotected Sex

Your tightly balled up fist propped your head up, forcing your gaze down at the text before you - not that you were absorbing any of the information. Truthfully, you didn't particularly mind studying when it came to certain subjects, though you were growing tired of spending your evenings begrudgingly hunched over your desk.

"Harry?" You sighed heavily, peering at the, rather sizeable, book you'd slammed down on the desk just over an hour ago, "Can you help me?"

"Sure, sweetheart." Your boyfriend mumbled from this rest upon the bed not far behind you, rustling the sheets a little as he took a stance. Suddenly, the large familiarity of his hands found your shoulders, thumb gently sweeping back and forth over your jumper. Tension unwound, your body soothed by his light touch.

"I'm so bored." A weighty exhale escaped your lips as you turned to stare up at him, desperation gleaming through your eyes.

Harry offered your shoulders a kind, soft squeeze, "I know. You've been sat here for an hour and you've hardly turned any pages."

Despite your self-awareness, you scoffed, eyes flitting to the dusty book cover as Harry suddenly flung the novel shut. You shot him a puzzled glance - although you couldn't deny the relief of a possible break.

"You're not concentrating." His lips tugged up, supporting a playful smirk, "Come on, it'll help if you have a distraction for a bit."

A sultry cloud of his breath grazed your neck, as a tempting kiss pressed to the angle of your jaw.  Your cheeks swarmed with a sudden heat, breath caught in your throat, "Harry.."

"Hm?" He mumbled, quietly satisfied as he observed your failure to follow through with whatever was to leave your lips.

Quickly, he discarded the clutter atop your desk, callous palm patting at the surface as his mouth left the crook of your neck, "On the desk."

Unable to deny what was before you, you hopped upon the - now uncluttered - table, perching yourself right at the edge.

Harry parted your legs slightly, stepping between them, your skirt naturally riding up your thighs. His hungry mouth connected with your own, bringing a newfound ferocity as your tongues collided rather immediately. You flung your vacant hands to the broad of his back, fingertips pressing against the fabric of his jumper.

His low groan seeped into the kiss, and he trailed a single hand upon the small of your back, the other snaking beneath your skirt. Heat buzzed between your legs as the familiar sensation of his touch met your panties, tracing soft circles over your clit through the damp material. You whimpered faintly against his mouth, feeling his lips curve into a satisfied smirk against yours.

Harry's fingers moved quicker, causing your body to shudder as you shattered the kiss, head falling against his shoulder.

"F-fuck.." Your hushed, sultry moan vibrated against his shoulder, endlessly fuelled by the flow of his digits.

"That's it, sweetheart." He encouraged, "Let me hear those pretty noises."

His lustful words struck your arousal, spiking it rather drastically. Harry's skilful fingertips slipped easily beneath your sodden underwear, tugging them aside, cool air hitting your bare cunt.

With a gracious chuckle, he tilted your head back from its fallen rest upon his shoulder, gaze flickering to yours, “I need to feel you."

Harry made light work of his trousers, pulling them downward, freeing his hard, bare cock with a deeply relieved groan. Craving the feel of your skin, his large hands splayed over your ass, finding a tender hold under your skirt.

"Ready, angel?" He braced, aligning his tip with your drenched, achingly unfulfilled entrance.

"Mhm.." You uttered, somewhat masking your need, fingertips digging into his back, his eyes trailing over your flushed face.

Harry eased his hard, unattended length between your legs, sliding between your slick folds, pulling an airy moan from the pair of you as he filled you.

"You feel so fucking good.." He praised with a heavy exhale, lips spilling gruff groans as your tight cunt squeezed at his cock.

His naked hips bucked against yours, tip hitting deep within your soaked pussy. His callous palms caressed your behind, the warmth of his mouth capturing the skin of your neck once more.

Your walls clenched around his length, the pulses of his tip reaching your g-spot, drawing a loud whine from your lips.

"So pretty." Harry cooed, giving your hips a motivational squeeze as he abruptly picked up the pace of his thrusts. The desk wavered slightly beneath your flushed, quickening bodies.

You couldn't help but allow your head to fall back a little, both overwhelmed and thrilled by the stimulations. Harry switched a single hand to your jaw, tipping your chin back down, forced to focus your gazes to one and other, "Eyes on me."

The intense buzz of his words lingered in your abdomen, your teeth puncturing the pillow of your lower lip.

Alternating his grasp from the tip of your chin, he returned attention to the swell of your clit. With present amusement, he applied just enough pressure where you most yearned for it. Breathy noises flooded the room, nude hips slapping against eachother, his hot breath tickling your cheeks.

“Right here, hm?” Harry smirked, heat-ridden bodies rocking together, bringing yourselves closer and closer.

“F-Fuck, yes..” You whined, back arching invitingly, a release brewing inside the both of you.

"That's it, fuck, just like that.."  He grunted, the jerking of his hips growing much lazier.

Practically melting against the work of his fingers, the sheer strength of your orgasm seized you, washing over your entirety. A breathy, passionate sound rolled off your tongue as you revelled in the climax. Tortured by the sensation of you clenching around his cock, Harry panted, sliding out as a burst of warmth painted your inner thighs.

Breathing far from steady, your glistening foreheads leant together, Harry’s lips parting to speak with a familiarly charming smile, “Better?”

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the requests/asks feature on my page - it’d be so greatly appreciated!

[smashhed]

|| The King's Gambit ||

🔞 Sukuna x Y/N Minors DNI| TRIGGER WARNING 🔞

Plot: Sukuna in a human world as a mafia boss so things will surely get steamy . Can you handle it ?

Tags- Breast sucking ,killing, mafia ,lust ,revenge ,sex ,plot , fights , gun , gore, action

NOTE : Hey readers,

I just wanted to drop a quick note to let you know that I’m new to the smut genre. Previously, I’ve been writing action fiction novels on other platforms, and now I’m trying to blend some of that action-packed excitement into my new work here. I hope you enjoy the mix of intense action and steamy scenes!

For the love of all things holy, if you're a minor reading this, stop right now. This content is meant for adults only, and I swear to god, if I find out you're reading this, and complaining and crying about it , I'm gonna beat your ass. Stay safe and read responsibly! Divider Credit : @cafekitsune

The city was like a giant maze of metal and glass, full of dark corners and secrets. In the middle of all this, Sukuna, a feared mafia boss, was in charge. His name alone was enough to scare people, and he had a reputation for being tough and powerful.

Tonight, though, things were going to get interesting.

Y/N loved adventure. Her job as a reporter had taken her to some risky places, and this city was no exception. She had heard rumors about Sukuna, the mysterious mafia leader, and she was curious. Wanting to find out more and hoping for a big story, she followed clues that seemed to lead to where he was.

As Y/N navigated the dimly lit streets, her heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. She knew this was dangerous, but the potential reward was too tempting to ignore.

Sukuna was sitting in his fancy office high up in a skyscraper, far above the busy, dirty streets of the city. The office was decorated with expensive furniture, making it look very different from the rough streets below. He was looking through some reports when one of his guys came in, looking nervous.

"Boss, we found someone snooping around the warehouse area. What should we do?" the man asked, his voice shaking a bit.

Sukuna's expression turned serious. "Who's brave enough to mess around in my area?" "It's a woman, boss. She seems determined, like some sort of journalist," the man replied, a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

Sukuna's interest was piqued. "Bring her to me. But make sure she's unharmed."

Y/N didn’t expect to be caught so quickly. Suddenly, a few well-dressed but scary-looking men surrounded her. Before she knew it, they grabbed her.

"Let me go!" she demanded, trying to break free.

"The boss wants to see you," one of them told her without any emotion.

They brought her to Sukuna's office. As she was pushed inside, her breath caught in her throat. The man behind the desk was as intimidating as the stories said. His presence filled the room, and his eyes seemed to see right through her.. His penetrating gaze seemed to strip away her defenses, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here ?" Sukuna's voice was smooth as silk, yet laced with a subtle threat. "A journalist, nosing around where she shouldn't be."

Y/N squared her shoulders, meeting Sukuna's intense stare with defiance. "I'm Y/N. And I'm here for a story."

Sukuna leaned back, a small smirk appearing on his face. "A story, is it? You must be quite brave or quite foolish to come here for that."

"Perhaps," Y/N replied, her tone unwavering despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Sukuna's eyes gleamed with amusement. He admired her courage, even as he contemplated the implications of her intrusion. "Very well, Y/N. I'll entertain your request for a story. But know that it comes with a price."

Y/N frowned, her curiosity piqued. "What sort of price are we talking about?"

Sukuna leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "You want a story? Then you'll have to play by my rules. You'll have exclusive access to my world, but in return, you'll owe me a debt—one that I will call upon when the time is right."

Y/N hesitated, weighing the risks against the potential reward. But in the end, her thirst for a groundbreaking story outweighed her apprehension. With a nod, she accepted Sukuna's terms, knowing that delving into his world would be a dangerous game—one where the stakes were higher than she could have ever imagined.

Y/N hesitated. It was a dangerous proposition, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. " Fine. I agree."

Sukuna's smile widened. "Good. Let the games begin."

That night, Y/N was given a room in Sukuna's mansion. It was luxurious, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being a prisoner. She lay in bed, thinking about the man she had just met. There was something magnetic about him, something that drew her in despite the danger.

Meanwhile, Sukuna sat in his study, thinking about Y/N. She was different from anyone he had ever met. Fearless, determined, and undeniably attractive. He was intrigued by her, and that was a feeling he wasn't used to.

The next few days were a whirlwind. Y/N followed Sukuna as he conducted his business. She saw the darker side of his world, but also moments of unexpected kindness. He was a complex man, and the more she learned about him, the more fascinated she became.

One evening, after a particularly tense meeting with a rival gang, Sukuna and Y/N found themselves alone in his office.

"You handled that well," Y/N said, breaking the silence.

Sukuna looked at her, his eyes intense. "You surprise me, Y/N. Most people would be terrified in your position."

"I'm not most people," she replied, meeting his gaze.

Sukuna stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "No, you're not."

There was a charged silence between them. Y/N's heart raced as Sukuna reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

" You should be careful," he murmured, his voice low. "Playing with fire can get you burned."

Y/N's breath hitched. "Maybe I like the heat."

Sukuna's eyes darkened with desire. "You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N."

"And you're enjoying every minute of it," she shot back.

Sukuna's lips curved into a predatory smile. "Maybe I am."

Over the next few days, the tension between Sukuna and Y/N grew. They were like two magnets, drawn together despite the danger. Sukuna was captivated by Y/N's spirit, and she was drawn to his raw power.

One night, Sukuna took Y/N to a high-end club. It was a place where deals were made and alliances formed. As they entered, all eyes were on them. Y/N felt a thrill of excitement and danger.

They danced, the music pulsing around them. Sukuna's hands were possessive on her waist, and Y/N felt a shiver of anticipation. She looked up at him, their faces inches apart.

"This is your world," she said softly. "But it feels like we're in our own little universe."

Sukuna's grip tightened. "As long as you're with me, you're part of it."

Y/N leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "Then let's make it ours."

Sukuna pulled her closer, their bodies moving in perfect sync. The heat between them was undeniable, and Y/N felt like she was on fire.

Just as they were lost in each other, chaos erupted. Gunshots rang out, and the crowd panicked. Sukuna immediately shielded Y/N, his eyes scanning the room for threats.

"Stay close to me," he ordered, his voice deadly calm.

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding with fear and adrenaline. They moved through the chaos, Sukuna taking down attackers with ruthless efficiency.

When a man with a gun emerged from the shadows, aiming directly at them, Sukuna's response was lightning-fast. He quickly pushed Y/N behind a pillar for safety, then charged the gunman. As he closed the distance, he ducked under a sloppy shot, rolled forward, and sprang up right in front of the attacker. Using his forearm, he blocked another attempted shot and twisted the gunman's arm sharply, forcing him to drop the weapon. With a swift uppercut, Sukuna knocked the gunman out cold.

Another attacker charged at Sukuna, wielding a knife. Sukuna sidestepped, grabbing the attacker's wrist, and delivered a low kick to the assailant’s knee, destabilizing him. As the man stumbled, Sukuna used his grip on the wrist to flip the attacker over his shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground. The knife skittered across the floor, and Sukuna quickly kicked it into a corner.

Y/N, from behind the pillar, watched Sukuna with a mix of fear and awe. His movements were precise and calculated, his expression focused and unyielding.

More attackers rushed towards Sukuna, but he was ready. He swiftly picked up the dropped gun and switched to defensive stance. He fired several controlled shots, each aimed with deadly precision, incapacitating his assailants one by one. The sharp reports of the gun echoed through the club, overshadowing the chaotic screams around them.

Sukuna’s agility and combat prowess were on full display as he ducked a wild swing from another attacker, countered with a jab to the throat, followed by a knee to the stomach, and a powerful palm strike to the chest that sent the man flying backward.

As the last of the attackers fell, the intensity in Sukuna’s eyes faded slightly. He turned back to Y/N, his posture relaxing as he walked over to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently, his tone shifting from the commanding fierceness of battle to concerned softness.

Y/N nodded, her voice shaky from adrenaline. " Yes, I’m okay, thanks to you. That was… incredible."

Sukuna cracked a small, confident smile. "Glad to hear that. Stay close to me, it’s not over until we’re out of here."

Back at the mansion, Sukuna and Y/N tended to their wounds. The danger they had just faced brought them even closer.

"Sukuna," Y/N said quietly, breaking the silence. "Why did you bring me into your world?"

Sukuna looked at her, his expression unreadable. "At first, it was curiosity. But now... it's more than that."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

Sukuna took a deep breath. "I've never met anyone like you, Y/N. You challenge me, make me feel things I haven't felt in a long time."

Y/N's eyes softened. " I feel the same way, Sukuna. "

He reached out, taking her hand in his. "This is dangerous, you know that, right?"

Y/N nodded. "I don't care. I'm not afraid."

As their conversation simmered with tension, Sukuna's gaze darkened with desire. "You want to play with danger, Y/N?" he murmured huskily, his voice dripping with seduction. Y/N's pulse quickened as she met his gaze head-on. " I'm not afraid to explore every inch of you," she whispered, her words a challenge. Sukuna smirked, his dominant aura filling the room.

"I want to possess every inch of you, Y/N," he murmured, his voice laced with desire.

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her body already craving his touch. "Then take me, Sukuna," she whispered, her voice thick with longing. With a growl, Sukuna claimed her lips in a fierce kiss,

Sukuna's eyes darkened with raw desire as he pinned Y/N against the wall, his body pressed flush against hers. " You're mine, Y/N, " he growled, his voice dripping with possessiveness. Y/N gasped at the intensity in his gaze, feeling a rush of heat pooling between her legs. "Claim me, Sukuna," she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper. With a predatory smirk, Sukuna trailed kisses along her neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. "I'll make you mine in every way," he vowed, his hands exploring her body with a hunger that sent shivers down her spine .

Sukuna's lips trailed along Y/N's neck, his tongue flicking out to taste her like a predator savoring its prey. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she surrendered to his dominance, her body arching against his with a desperate need. "You're mine, Y/N," Sukuna growled possessively, his voice sending shivers down her spine. "And tonight, I'm going to show you just how much you belong to me." With a hungry moan, Y/N nodded, her desire burning like wildfire

With a wicked grin, Sukuna's fingers trailed down Y/N's body until they reached her throbbing clit. "You like it when I tease you, don't you, Y/N?" he purred, his voice laced with dominance. Y/N whimpered in response, her hips instinctively pressing against his hand, craving more of his touch. "Please, Sukuna," she begged, her voice thick with desire. Sukuna's smirk widened as he circled her clit with expert precision, driving her to the edge of madness with each teasing touch. " You're so beautiful when you're desperate for me," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

Sukuna suddenly stopped, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked at Y/N teasingly. "Do you want more, Y/N?" he taunted, his voice dripping with dominance. Y/N's breath hitched as she stared up at him, her body throbbing with need. "Please, Sukuna," she begged, her voice a desperate plea. Sukuna smirked, reveling in her desperation before resuming his ministrations with renewed vigor. "You have to earn it, Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

Sukuna's smirk widened as he gazed down at Y/N, his dominance radiating from every inch of his being. " If you want more, Y/N, you'll have to show me how much you want it," he teased, his voice thick with desire. Y/N's heart raced at his command, her need for him burning hotter than ever. "I'll show you, Sukuna," she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. With a wicked grin, Sukuna leaned back, his cock throbbing with anticipation as Y/N eagerly took him into her mouth, sucking him like she meant it

Sukuna watched with smug satisfaction as Y/N took him into her mouth like a hungry prey, her lips wrapping around him with eager determination. "That's it, Y/N," he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. "Show me how much you crave me." Y/N moaned around him, the vibrations sending waves of ecstasy coursing through Sukuna's body. "You're mine to devour, Y/N," he growled, his hands tangling in her hair as he guided her movements.

Sukuna's eyes widened with surprise as Y/N suddenly deepthroated him, her mouth engulfing him with a hunger that left him breathless. "Fuck, Y/N," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "You're even more skilled than I thought." Y/N's eyes sparkled with mischief as she continued, her movements relentless as she took him deeper and deeper. "You like that, Sukuna?" she teased, her voice husky with desire. Sukuna could only nod in response, his mind consumed by the overwhelming sensation of her mouth around him

Sukuna's fingers found their way to Y/N's throbbing clit as she deepthroated him, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. "You like it when I take control, don't you, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice thick with dominance. Y/N moaned around him, her hips bucking against his hand as she surrendered to his touch. "Yes, Sukuna," she gasped, her voice muffled by his length. Sukuna smirked, relishing in the power he held over her as he continued to pleasure her without mercy

With a primal growl, Sukuna seized control, flipping Y/N onto her back as he positioned himself between her thighs. "You're mine to claim, Y/N," he declared, his voice dripping with dominance. Y/N's breath hitched with anticipation as she felt him enter her, his length filling her like never before. "Yes, Sukuna," she moaned, her voice a mix of pleasure and surrender Sukuna's throbbing cock plunged into Y/N's wet pussy, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. "Oh, Sukuna," she moaned, her voice a symphony of ecstasy as he pounded her relentlessly. Sukuna's primal growls filled the room as he claimed her as his own, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. "You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you, Y/N?" he grunted, his voice thick with desire. Y/N could only nod in response, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their passion. 

Sukuna's hands eagerly seized Y/N's breasts, and with a swift, decisive motion, he tore apart her top, revealing her pert nipples to his hungry gaze. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as he took her sensitive peaks into his mouth, his lips and tongue working wonders on her flesh, sending electrifying waves of pleasure coursing through her entire being. With each suck and nibble, she felt herself unraveling under his skilled ministrations, her body responding instinctively to his every touch.

"Oh, Sukuna," Y/N moaned, her back arching in pleasure as she surrendered herself to the overwhelming sensations washing over her. Her fingers clawed at his back, urging him closer as she sought to immerse herself fully in the ecstasy of their shared passion. Sukuna groaned in satisfaction, his hunger for her growing with each passing moment, his dominance radiating from every fiber of his being.

"You're mine, Y/N," Sukuna declared, his voice thick with possessiveness as he claimed her with each fervent kiss and caress. Y/N could do nothing but whimper in response, completely lost in the intensity of their connection.

Sukuna shifted Y/N onto her back, his eyes ablaze with desire. "You ready for more, baby?" he growled, his voice thick with lust. Y/N nodded eagerly, her breath coming in short gasps as she braced herself for his next move.

With a primal grunt, Sukuna thrust into her once again, his cock filling her completely. "Oh god, yes!" Y/N cried out, her voice filled with ecstasy as she surrendered to the pleasure of his powerful thrusts. Sukuna's lips crashed down on hers, his kisses hot and urgent as they lost themselves in the heat of the moment.

Their bodies moved together in a frenzied rhythm, each thrust driving them both closer to the edge. "You feel so good, Y/N," Sukuna moaned, his voice rough with desire. Y/N's nails dug into his back, her cries of pleasure mingling with his 

Sukuna's voice was a low, husky whisper against Y/N's ear as he spoke, "I want to make you cum, baby. Let me feel you unravel around me." Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her body quivering with anticipation.

"Please, Sukuna," she begged, her voice dripping with need. "Make me cum hard."

With a predatory grin, Sukuna increased the pace of his thrusts, driving her closer to the edge with each powerful movement. "You're so close, Y/N," he murmured, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. "Let go for me."

Y/N's fingers clenched the sheets as she surrendered to the pleasure building inside her, her cries of ecstasy filling the room as she finally reached the peak of her pleasure. "Yes, Sukuna, yes!" she screamed, her body convulsing with the force of her release.

Sukuna's cock throbbed with anticipation as Y/N reached the pinnacle of her pleasure, her walls gripping him tightly as she came hard. "Fuck, baby, you're so tight," he groaned, feeling her hot juices coating his dick. With a primal roar, he released himself deep inside her, filling her pussy with his hot, sticky cum.

But Sukuna wasn't satisfied yet. His hunger for her was insatiable, and with a predatory gleam in his eyes, he continued to pound into her relentlessly. "You like that, don't you, Y/N? You want more of my cock?" he growled, his voice dripping with lust.

Y/N could only whimper in response, her body writhing beneath him as she begged for more. With each powerful thrust, Sukuna felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge once again. "I'm gonna cum inside you again, baby," he grunted, his voice thick with desire.

And with one final, powerful thrust, Sukuna emptied himself inside her for a second time, their combined moans filling the room as they surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure of their shared climax.

With a satisfied smirk, Sukuna leaned down to kiss Y/N passionately, his lips claiming hers with a possessiveness that sent shivers down her spine. "You're mine now, Y/N," he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with dominance. "I've claimed you as mine, and there's no going back."

Y/N's heart raced with a mixture of excitement and anticipation as she surrendered herself completely to him. "Yes, Sukuna," she whispered, her voice a breathless affirmation of her submission to him.

Their night was a whirlwind of passion, each moment hotter than the last. They fucked again and again, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as they sought to quench their insatiable desire for each other.

With every thrust, Sukuna claimed Y/N as his own, their moans of pleasure echoing in the darkness as they surrendered themselves completely to the fire of their passion. They explored every inch of each other's bodies, leaving no part untouched as they reveled in the ecstasy of their shared pleasure.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the window, they finally collapsed in each other's arms, sated and spent from their night of passion. With a contented sigh, Sukuna pulled Y/N close, holding her tightly against him as they drifted off to sleep, their bodies entwined in a blissful embrace.

The next few days were a blur of action and emotion. Sukuna and Y/N grew closer, their bond deepening with each passing moment. They were a formidable team, each pushing the other to new heights.

But the danger was always lurking, and they both knew it was only a matter of time before it caught up to them.

The inevitable showdown arrived with the fury of a storm. A rival gang, determined to dethrone Sukuna, launched a full-scale attack on his mansion under the cover of night. Bullets rained and explosions lit up the dark sky, signaling the start of a merciless battle.

Sukuna and Y/N stood back to back, their resolve steeling them against the onslaught. Sukuna's eyes were ice-cold with focus, his gun firing with the precision of a seasoned warrior, each shot synchronized with his breathing. Beside him, Y/N matched his rhythm, her own gun spitting fire at any figure that dared advance.

One thug tried to look menacing but slipped on his own shoelaces and went flying past them. Sukuna couldn't help but snort.

"Watch this," Sukuna whispered to Y/N as he spotted another group trying to flank them. He waited until they were awkwardly clustered together, then lobbed a smoke grenade. The gang members stumbled around, bumping into each other like characters in a silent film.

Y/N giggled, covering her mouth. "They're like penguins on ice!"

"Cover me," Sukuna said, diving into the fray with a bit more flair than necessary. He rolled, not because he needed to, but because it looked cool. When he came up, his hair was perfectly tousled—somehow it always was, even in a gunfight.

A large, burly thug swung a crowbar at Sukuna, who dodged and quipped, "You need to hit the gym, mate!" before delivering a punch

A thug lunged at him with a knife, slashing wildly. Sukuna dodged to the side, his arm whipping out to catch the man's wrist, twisting it viciously until the knife clattered to the ground. With a swift uppercut, he sent the attacker sprawling.

"Y/N, watch out!" Sukuna yelled as he saw another assailant sneaking behind her. Y/N spun around just in time, her fist connecting with the attacker's jaw in a satisfying crunch.

The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood. Amidst the chaos, a burly figure emerged— the leader of the rival gang. He was flanked by his best men, who moved with lethal intent towards Sukuna and Y/N.

Sukuna met the gang leader's gaze, his expression grim. "This ends tonight," he growled.

The leader smirked, cracking his knuckles. " You're in over your head, Sukuna. "

With a roar, Sukuna charged, ducking as the leader swung a heavy pipe. He countered with a jab to the abdomen, followed by a sharp hook to the face, staggering the larger man.

Meanwhile, Y/N battled two assailants. She ducked a wild swing, pivoting to deliver a kick that knocked the wind out of her opponent. As the second man raised his gun, Y/N grabbed his arm, twisting and using his own body to shield herself as she disarmed him, throwing him over her shoulder onto the ground.

"Y/N!" Sukuna shouted, distracted for a split second as he saw her struggle. That moment was all the leader needed. He landed a heavy blow to Sukuna's side, a knife slicing through his shirt and skin.

"Stay with me, Sukuna," Y/N cried out, dispatching another attacker before rushing to his side. Blood was beginning to stain his shirt, but his eyes burned with an unquenchable fire.

"I'm not going anywhere," Sukuna gritted out, pushing past the pain. With a fierce yell, he launched himself at the gang leader. They traded blows, the sound of flesh and bone meeting echoing above the gunfire. Sukuna's movements were a blur, a ballet of violence, as he parried, dodged, and struck with ruthless efficiency.

Finally, with a powerful combination of strikes, Sukuna landed a devastating blow to the leader’s temple, sending him crashing to the ground, unconscious.

The remaining attackers, seeing their leader defeated, began to falter. Sukuna and Y/N seized the momentum, pushing back with renewed vigor until the last of the attackers fled into the night.

With the last of the attackers gone, the mansion was left in ruins. Smoke and dust hung in the air, and the once luxurious rooms were now a battlefield.

Y/N rushed to Sukuna's side, her heart pounding with fear. "Sukuna, you're hurt."

He smiled, though it was strained. "It's just a scratch."

Y/N's eyes filled with tears as she looked at him, her voice trembling. "Stay with me, Sukuna. Don't you dare leave me."

Sukuna reached out, cupping her face in his blood-stained hand. "I'm not going anywhere," he said softly, his eyes filled with determination.

With a final, desperate push, they managed to defeat the attackers. The mansion was in ruins, but they had survived.

As they stood amidst the wreckage, Y/N looked at Sukuna, her eyes filled with love and determination.

"We did it," she said softly.

Sukuna pulled her into his arms, his lips brushing her ear. "Yes, we did. And as long as we have each other, nothing can stop us."

In the aftermath of the battle, Sukuna and Y/N began to rebuild. Their love had been tested and had emerged stronger than ever. They knew their future would be filled with challenges, but they were ready to face them together.

As they stood on the balcony of their new home, looking out over the city, Sukuna took Y/N's hand in his.

"This is just the beginning," he said, his voice filled with promise.

Y/N smiled, leaning into him. "And I can't wait to see what the future holds."

With their hearts intertwined and their love burning bright, they were ready to take on the world.

Together. THE END { or is it <3 ? }

[yiichan]

𝟎𝟒 - 𝐖𝐞𝐧 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐮𝐢

pairings. idol!ot13 x m!14thmember!oc. word count. 1.2k. genre. parellel universe au, extra member au, angst.

warnings. none (for this chapter)

writers notes. hoshi's chapter should be a fast one. im tired of writing tags im sorry. and also, SVT daesangs, A WIN IS A WIN.

my imperial beta reader, @sousydive

network: @mansaenetwork

[open] series taglist. @vixensss @mnjrosn

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When Junhui opened his eyes, he quickly closed them again, convinced he was dreaming.

One moment, he had been dozing on the couch in Seungkwan and Jeonghan’s shared dorm. The next, he was alone in a place that felt both familiar and unfamiliar.

He hesitated, then opened his eyes again.

No, he knew this place. Wasn’t this their old dormitory room?

He bolted upright, scanning the room. Yes, it was definitely their old dormitory. The cramped space, the poorly maintained walls, the heap of clothes on the floor…

Heart racing, Junhui scrambled to his feet, looking for any sign of life. He rushed to the door, bursting into the living room.

There, he froze, staring directly into the wide, confused eyes of a much younger Seungkwan.

“Hyung?” Seungkwan said groggily, rubbing his eyes.

Junhui’s breath hitched as he took in the sight. Seungkwan’s face was still round with baby fat, his expression innocent and unguarded.

Seungkwan blinked a few times, shaking off his drowsiness, before suddenly jumping to his feet in shock. “Jun-hyung? How did your hair grow overnight—” He stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening as he looked around. “Wait… where are we?”

Junhui took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm despite the panic rising within him. “I think…” His voice trembled slightly. “I think we’ve gone back in time.”

The idea wasn’t hard for Junhui to accept. After all, he’d already traveled to a parallel universe. Besides, he had read so many fictional Chinese novels about time travel that he could probably build a castle out of them.

“Wait, what day is it?” Seungkwan asked, walking to the wall where a calendar was hung. He gasped when he saw it, then turned to Junhui. “The first of February, hyung! The day before Gyuhan joined us!”

Junhui’s heart squeezed at the mention of Gyuhan. His hands trembled as he quickly patted his pockets, hoping to confirm his suspicions. To his relief—and slight disbelief—his fingers brushed against the familiar shape of his old phone.

Pulling it out, he stared at the cracked screen. It was definitely the phone he used back then. He unlocked it easily, his fingers moving instinctively.

The date flashed on the screen: 01 February 2015.

Seungkwan was right. This was the day before Gyuhan joined them.

Before he could speak, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. Both of them turned toward the noise, tense and alert.

“What?” Junhui’s heart skipped a beat at the familiar voice. Jeonghan.

The older man appeared, looking disheveled and confused. His long hair, still styled from their trainee days, fell into his eyes. “Junnie? Kwan?”

“Hyung?” Seungkwan whispered, his face pale. Jeonghan looked between the two of them, his eyes wide.

“You two… Did we travel back in time?”

Seungkwan opened his mouth to reply, but a loud thud from the room across the hall interrupted him.

“What now?” Seungkwan groaned, his voice rising in pitch as nerves took over.

Junhui moved instinctively toward the sound. Jeonghan followed closely, while Seungkwan muttered under his breath.

When Junhui opened the door, he found Mingyu sprawled on the floor, tangled in his blanket.

“Hyung!” Mingyu exclaimed, his voice tinged with panic as he scrambled to his feet. “What’s happening? Why does everything look like this? Where am I?” He gestured wildly, eyes darting around the room.

“Calm down, Mingyu,” Jeonghan said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder. “We’re all trying to figure this out.”

“All of us?” Mingyu blinked, his panic softening into confusion. “Wait… you mean—”

“Yes, all of us,” Junhui interrupted. “It looks like the entire group has somehow traveled back in time.”

Mingyu’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

Before anyone could speak further, another door opened further down the hall, followed by a groggy and irritated voice.

“Why is everyone so loud?” Jihoon appeared, rubbing his eyes. He froze when he saw the group in Mingyu’s doorway. “What…?”

His eyes landed on Junhui, narrowing slightly. “Wait. Hyung, why do you look… different?”

Junhui exchanged a look with Jeonghan. “Jihoon,” he said slowly, “check the calendar.”

Jihoon blinked, suspicion evident on his face, but stepped back into his room. A moment later, they heard him gasp. He reappeared, his face a mix of shock and disbelief.

“February 1, 2015?” Jihoon’s voice was barely a whisper. “This… this can’t be real.”

“Oh, it’s real,” Seungkwan said, folding his arms. “I’ve already checked, and Jun-hyung’s old phone proves it. We’re here—back when we were trainees.”

“But why?”

Jeonghan sighed, running a hand through his long hair as he leaned against the wall. “That’s the question, isn’t it? Why would we be sent back to this point in time? And more importantly… how?”

Junhui took a shaky breath, his mind racing. It was surreal to see everyone’s younger faces, their voices filled with the nervous energy they’d once shared as trainees. But Jihoon’s question lingered—why had they been sent back to this day, specifically?

“This feels like some kind of test,” Jihoon said, his sharp gaze flicking between the others. “A cosmic prank, maybe. Or worse, someone’s trying to mess with us.”

“Or,” Jeonghan said lightly, though his eyes were serious, “it’s a second chance.”

Everyone turned to him, confused. But then realization spread across their faces.

Junhui’s heart clenched as he thought about Gyuhan. Memories of the member who had once been part of their lives, but was no longer with them in the present-day SEVENTEEN, flooded his mind.

“We’ll figure it out,” Junhui said, his voice firmer than he expected. “But first, we need to find the others. Not everyone is here in the dorm.”

Seungkwan nodded. “Maybe we’ve been split up. We just need to figure out where.”

“And how,” Jihoon added. “If this is 2015, Seungcheol and the others could be anywhere. They might not even realize what’s happening to them yet.”

Mingyu groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. “This is too much. What if we mess something up while we’re here? Isn’t time travel supposed to have all these rules? What if we ruin everything?”

Junhui shot him a reassuring look, though his own nerves were fraying. “We just need to be careful. Let’s not do anything drastic until we figure out what’s going on. Besides, we’ve already traveled to another parallel universe, haven’t we?”

“Step one,” Jeonghan said, taking charge. “We confirm who’s here and who isn’t. After that, we retrace our steps. What were we doing on this exact day in 2015?”

Seungkwan spoke up, still nervously glancing at the calendar. “If I remember right, we were supposed to have the day off. The hyungs were running errands, and Jihoon was working on a demo.” He turned to Jihoon. “Right?”

Jihoon nodded slowly. “That’s correct. But if things are already different—”

“They might not be following the same timeline,” Junhui finished, his chest tightening at the implications.

A tense silence fell over the group, each of them deep in thought.

Finally, Jeonghan straightened up. “Alright, here’s the plan. We stick together for now. We find the others and figure out what’s changed. And no one does anything reckless until we know what’s going on. Got it?”

Everyone nodded, the tension in the room palpable but manageable under Jeonghan’s guidance.

Junhui’s gaze lingered on the cracked phone in his hand. His mind kept drifting to Gyuhan—the person whose presence marked this exact moment in time.

If this really was a second chance, he wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers. Not this time.

© yiichan, 2024 origin of divider

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: paparazzi

pairing: grayson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: you’re running away from the paparazzi and you bump into a gorgeous stranger who offers to buy you a drink

warnings: mild swearing

a/n: this was a request from an anon who wanted to see grayson hawthorne x reader where the reader is a famous singer. I hope you enjoy… this is what I managed to come up with. Note: this is the grayson equivalent of starstruck for jameson

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @peterlcsingwendy @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @zoyaaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @f4iry-bell

I step out of the recording studio at exactly 6:23 am. I’d stayed there over night with a few people to try and get the sound I wanted from the new single I hoped to drop soon. Unfortunately I hadn’t managed to accomplished what I’d set out to do, so now I’m just feeling pretty lousy and absolutely exhausted. It’s so early in the morning that I wasn’t expecting to be met with bold flashes of several cameras as soon as I stepped foot out of the building. I curse under my breath and begin to walk in the opposite direction as quickly as I could. I swear one of these days I’ll be blinded. I wish I hadn’t decided to wear heels as they were not proving useful.

The paparazzi were relentless as per usual and continued to follow me down several different roads. They cry out my name and various questions. I begin to wonder who’s tipped them off that I was there, no one was supposed to know. But I let the curiosity die quickly. I glance behind me and realise they’re closer than I realised. So mutter a quick prayer and begin to run. As fast as I can in my heels. I knew for a fact I looked like a wild idiot, but I didn’t care now I needed to get away. The flashes were more frequent now, the clicking of the cameras louder. My feet are screaming for me to stop, my breath shallow. I really should plan my outfits better. Just when I think I’m screwed, I notice a small, secluded alleyway and decide to take the chance and run down it. I hope they didn’t notice.

On the corner is the door to a coffee shop, so I take the chance and dash in. Not many places are open at this time, so I count my lucky stars as breathlessly a make my way to the counter. I make sure my back is turned to the window, so prying eyes won’t recognise my face if they pass. I grip into the counter and catch my breath back.

“You look like you could use a coffee,” says a voice directed at me.

I look up to see a well dressed man, looking at me. He looks slightly recognisable but not enough for me to know exactly who he was. He had pretty grey eyes that stood out against his pale complexion and golden hair.

“Thanks, nice to know I look as horrendous as I feel,” I scoff sarcastically, not realising what I’d said be for the word had left my lips.

“You don’t look horrendous,” he offers kindly, too kindly.

“You just told me I look like I could use a coffee,” I state, running my fingers through a matted clump of hair.

“That was my way of offering to buy you a drink,” he explains to me.

“Oh…” I say, my eyes wide as red creeps up my cheeks.

I felt so stupid and horrible. This poor guy was trying to be nice, which he didn’t have to be, and I had totally just shut him down.

“Oh god sorry,” I ramble, “that was totally rude and-“

He laughs, thankfully cutting of my meaningless waffling, “don’t worry. Let me rephrase, can I buy you a drink?”

“Do you really want to?” I ask, arms folded, looking at him quizzically.

“Yes I really want to,” he assures me.

“Then that would be nice,” I agree.

He seemed trustworthy enough, though I was really going to regret saying that later is he turned out to be some sort of axe murderer. The coffee barista who looked as equally exhausted as I felt asks for our order. I quickly murmur to the man who offered to buy me a coffee what I wanted and he orders two of the same. He very kindly pays and the barista goes off to make the drinks.

“Sorry again about that,” I laugh sheepishly, “it’s too early for me in the morning to function politely.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he shrugs, “believe me I’ve had much worse interactions.”

I look him up and down, trying to gage who he might work for. A finance department maybe? Or maybe he was lawyer? Though he looked awfully young.

“You look too fancy to be hanging out in a coffee shop,” I say, trying to fish for some answers.

“Is that because I’m wearing a suit in 6:30 in the morning?” he asks me.

“Possibly,” I say, my eyes trailing down, “and those shoes.”

He chuckles softly, “even fancy people need coffee.”

“So you are a fancy person?” I reply, cocking my head towards him.

“Possibly,” he smiles, mirroring what I’d said to him.

I purse my lips, still trying to work this guy out. Presumably he was rich, the guy even looks expensive. And he seems too perfect to be real. I lean back an analyse him. He looks to be around twenty or so and holds himself with confidence. He doesn’t even look the slightest bit tired despite the time.

“Here’s your coffees,” the barista says, her expression flat and her tone even flatter, “enjoy.”

“I’ve never heard someone sound so melancholy saying the word enjoy,” I mutter once she’s gone around the corner.

He grins, “maybe she’s not a morning person.”

“I mean fair enough there,” I say. He passes me my cup and guides me to a table, “oh thank you.”

“I’m Grayson,” he tells me as we sit down, shifting his eyes so they exactly meet mine.

“Y/N,” I say, opting not to use a pseudonym as I would usually do. Something about him settled me, made me feel like I didn’t need to hide who I really was.

He smiles slightly and stares wistfully elsewhere.

“What?” I ask him as I take a large sip of my coffee.

The caffeine enters my blood stream and flows straight to my brain. Suddenly my energy levels are raised and I’m more alert. I actually feel awake now.

“That’s a pretty name,” Grayson replies quietly, the smile not leaving his face.

“Thanks,” I say, feeling unusually flattered. It wasn’t just the words he said but the way he said it, so tenderly, like my name was the most beautiful thing that had ever graced his lips. My cheeks are heating up again.

He opens his mouth to reply, but I notice a familiar flash in the corner of my eye. My mind plays a string of colourful words I wouldn’t dare say out loud.

“Oh god,” I groan, “duck.”

“Ducking isn’t going to help, we need to leave,” he says to me, standing up, suddenly alert and ready. He seems a little too prepared for this situation and I’m sceptical. But I don’t have time to be sceptical.

“But you just bought the coffee,” I complain. I feel horrible, he’s just spent good money on that and now I had to leave it.

“Forget about the coffee,” he replies, gesturing for me to stand up.

I get up, “I’ll pay you back as soon as we’re out of here.”

“Come on, there’s a back door we can slip out of,” he explains.

I don’t have time to question how or why he knows that or whether I should follow him. Paparazzi burst through the door, some yelling questions, some taking pictures.

“Oh shit,” I curse, covering my face with my hand, as if it’ll do anything.

“Run?” He suggests to me.

“More like sprint,” I scoff, “I really hope you don’t mind ruining those fancy shoes.”

“Who said I can’t sprint and keep them in perfect condition?” Grayson winks at me.

I roll my eyes, smiling widely, trying to suppress the blush that I can feel rising in my cheeks. He swiftly grabs my hand and pulls me towards the back door. I’m too flustered to even care where I’m going, my cheeks were now positively rosy with colour as I grip his hand. He leads me out and begins to run, not letting go of me, actually he holds on even tighter. Suddenly I feel my legs begin to drag and I realise that I might break an ankle if I carry on in these heels. I tear my hand out of his.

“Keep going!” I yell.

He immediately stops and runs back over to me, “what’s wrong?”

“I can’t keep up with you in these heels,” I heave. Actually I probably couldn’t keep up with him full stop, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“Take them off,” he tells me.

“What?” I gape.

“Just trust me,” he says.

After a brief second of intense eye contact, I slip off my shoes. Then to my surprise he does the same.

“Put mine on,” he instructs, handing me a pair of clearly very expensive shoes.

“Are you kidding?” I ask.

“Stop with the questions and just wear the shoes, otherwise they’ll catch up to us,” he replies, eyes darting around, scanning for the paparazzi.

I look down at the shoes, which didn’t have a scratch nor crinkle in them. They practically looked fresh out of the box.

“Oh my gosh they’re actually still in perfect condition,” I gape, “how did you even manage that?”

“It’s a talent,” Grayson shrugs.

“Clearly,” I say, “oh god I’m going to end up ruining them.”

He shrugs, “I have too many shoes to count, it doesn’t matter.”

“What about you then, what will you wear?”

“I’m going to wear the heels,” he says, with a straight face, as he picks up my pair of black high heels.

“Really?” I reply, slightly curious on how he was going to a) get them on and b) run in them.

“No, but you should se the look on your face,” he smiles, “I’ll carry them for you.”

I want to slap his arm but I settle for rolling my eyes, I quickly throw his shoes on. They’re one hundred percent going to slip off but I didn’t care by this point, they were more comfortable than my heels.

“Thank you,” I breathe, just as a crowd of voices seemingly get closer.

“Ready to run,” Grayson asks me, extending his hand for me to hold.

“No,” I reply, gripping it tightly.

“Good,” he nods, “let’s go.”

We start to sprint again and quickly fall behind, losing a shoe more than once, praying the paparazzi did not catch that one. Grayson takes my hand back into his and it gives me the energy to move slightly faster.

“My car is this way,” he shouts over his shoulder, dragging my left suddenly.

He stops so abruptly I crash right into his back losing my balance. I can feel myself falling and brace myself for impact as I hit the floor but it never arrives. I open my eyes to find Grayson had caught me. His hands fit perfectly around my waist and held me from my inevitable doom on the pavement. We are frozen for a moment, a beautiful holy moment.

“You okay?” He asks, hurriedly.

His face was so close to mine, his lips look so soft. I can feel his hands on my body and I don’t want him to let go. I want to stay here for all eternity, just so I can feel this good. But I knew it wasn’t possible.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good,” I nod, standing up straight as his hands fall from my waist and I dust myself off.

It was odd how now my waist seemed colder than before, less complete without his strong hands upon it. I shake the notion from my head.

“This is my car,” he points at it, “jump in.”

“I can’t get into a stranger’s car,” I exclaim, folding my arms across my stomach.

“Says the same girl who followed the stranger to his car,” he says, not even bothering to suppress his chuckle, “besides we’re not strangers.”

“Yes we are,” I argue.

“What’s my name?” He asks me with a straight face.

I stare at him, confusion decorating all of my features. He gestures for me to carry on and answer.

“Grayson?” I say hesitantly.

“And you’re Y/N,” he says, “see, not strangers.”

Annoyingly he has a point but I think he can tell I’m not entirely convinced.

“My car has black out windows, they won’t be able to see us,” he tries.

“Or see you murder me,” I mutter.

“I’m not going to murder you!” Grayson exclaims, trying not to laugh.”

“How do I know that?” I ask him.

“Get in the car,” he tells me, rolling his eyes.

“Sounds like something a murderer would say,” I grumble.

He’s about to reply but is cut off.

“THEY’RE OVER HERE!” someone yells.

I weigh up my options, sigh and then get into his car. I didn’t want to run in to the paparazzi and this was my best option right now. I was fairly certain he wouldn’t murder me but it’s better safe than sorry right? Besides it meant I get to spend a little more time with this intriguing soul. We both sit in silence for a few moments before I lean down and take his shoes off of my feet, passing them to him.

“Thanks again,” I beam, “for buying me coffee, lending me your shoes, letting me stay in your car and not murdering me.”

He returns my heels, “no problem. It seems to have been an eventful morning.”

“You can say that again,” I sigh, then look at his shoes, “I don’t think I managed to keep them as unscathed as you did but…” I trail off, not really knowing how to finish my sentence.

I think he senses it as he replies with a simple, “they’re fine.”

We fall into another silence, as we both awkwardly put our shoes on and stare out of the windshield. I don’t think either of know how to rally approach conversation. I sit there and take in the dramatic events of this morning wondering what the day might bring, when I realise I probably owe Grayson an explanation.

I sigh, “look I’m really sorry about that by the way.”

“What? Why are you apologising?” he asks, blinking rapidly.

“For the paparazzi,” I clarify

“Why are you apologising for the paparazzi?” Grayson says, running a hand through his hair.

“Who did you think they were chasing after?” I laugh.

“Me…” he murmurs. My jaw drops, that was not the response I was expecting. He looks too serious to be joking.

“You? You’re famous?”

“I’m Grayson Hawthorne,” he says

My eye widen. How hadn’t I put two and two together? A blonde man, who looked to be about in his twenties, dressed in an expensive suit with gorgeous shoes, with impeccable running speed and the first name of Grayson. All the signs were literally screaming in my face and somehow I’d missed them. It’s as if I walked right past a neon sign, decorated with bold flashing lights.

“I thought they were chasing after me,” I say, leaning back in the seat and gazing out of the window.

“How comes?” Grayson questions.

“I’m a singer,” I shrug, not making eye contact with him.

“You’re joking,” he says.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” I reply flatly, as my eyes finally will themselves to meet his.

“What do you sing?” he asks me, a spark in his eyes. He almost looks excited, for me, for my music.

“Songs,” I laugh cryptically.

He rolls his eyes playfully at me, “What songs?”

I name him a few of my most famous hits that most would’ve heard of. Though my heart was racing in my chest, what if he’s heard my songs and he hates them…

“You’re not Y/N L/N are you?” he asks me, narrowing his eyes.

Damn it.

“The one and only,” I manage to say, a smile plastered on my face, wishing for the ground to swallow my body up whole.

“My brother listens to you all the time, though he’ll never admit it and would kill me for telling you that,” he says, “but I must admit I’ve never listened to you myself.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved in my life. The breathe out slowly and calm down slightly.

“Let’s keep it that way,” I tell him.

“What if I don’t want to keep it that way?” he replies, mischief underlying his tone.

“You’re going to have to,” I say, making sure I sounded stern enough to warn him to never listen to a song.

“I could just google you,” he points out, taking out his phone. I’ve never wanted to smash anything more violently.

“You could,” I shrug, “but it was make me severely angry.”

“Oh no!” he says sarcastically, a stupid witty grin on his face.

“Hey!” I exclaim, smacking the top of his arm.

I know I’m not really a threat for him at all and when I leave he would most likely google my music and never want to talk to me again. But I convince myself that was okay because if we never see each other after today it wouldn’t matter what he thinks about my music.

“Can you sing for me now then?” Grayson asks, his voice soft and very persuading.

“Absolutely not,” I scoff, folding my arms. His voice was not persuading enough.

“Why?” he replies, almost offended.

“I’m on a vocal rest,” I tell him.

“You’re not doing a very good job, all you’ve done is talk,” he grins, looking to amused at himself for my liking.

“I’m on a vocal rest from just singing,” I lie, “I can still talk.”

“Is that even a thing?” he asks, probably sensing that I’m an awful liar.

“Yes?” I say trying not to sound guilty and failing.

“I think you’re lying,” Grayson replies, a playful look in his eye.

I’m about to answer when my eyes flick over to the dashboard where the time was red on the screen, “Oh my gosh!”

“What?” he asks, alarmed at my sudden burst.

“I’m meant to be at rehearsal in five minutes,” I groan, reaching for the door.

“I’ll drive you,” he says quickly.

“You don’t have to do th-“ I begin.

“Address?” he interrupts me, starting the car up.

“Noble Studios,” I sigh, accepting my fate. He probably wouldn’t take no for an answer.

He nods, “Wait how you on a vocal rest if you’re going to rehearsal?”

“I’m on a vocal rest until I get to rehearsal,” I say, making it up as I go along.

He raises his eyebrows, “Do you ever get any sleep?”

“What?” I ask, confused at the randomness of the question.

“Well you’ve just been in recording studio and now you’d going to rehearsal,” he clarifies, “so do you ever get any sleep?”

“Usually no,” I blow out a breath.

“You should go home and rest,” he tells me.

I blush deeply and replay the words over and over again in my head. The words he said to me. I steal a glance at him for a moment and quickly turn away.

“I will after rehearsal,” I explain, “but I’ve got to make it, I’ve got a concert tomorrow night.”

“Then after this rehearsal you promise me you’ll rest from then until tomorrow night,” Grayson tells me gently.

I nod, too shy to meet his eyes. The silence we fall into is comfortable until I’m brave enough to break it.

“Who do you listen to anyway?”

“What?” he asks quickly.

��What artists?” I wonder aloud, “you said you’d never listened to me, so then who.”

“Frank Sinatra is one of my favourites,” he murmurs, almost with a shyness in his tone.

“Frank Sinatra?” I giggle.

“Are you laughing at my music taste?” he raises his eyebrows.

“No I’m laughing because it’s so on brand for you,” I chuckle.

Of course Grayson Hawthorne liked Frank Sinatra. With his shoes and suit and general demeanours, who else would it be? I could even imagine Grayson singing his songs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

“It’s a compliment, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” I grin playfully.

“Do you even know who Frank Sinatra is?” he says to me, like I’m a complete moron.

“Of course I do, he’s that rapper right?” I tease him.

His head whips towards me faster than the speed on light. He’s staring so intently at me I’m worried we might crash. He death stares me, a mix of offensiveness and utter shock in his expression.

“I’m kidding,” I giggle, “Frank Sinatra was a singer popular in the 40s and 50s, taking on a classical pop style in his music.”

“That wasn’t funny,” he snaps, hands tight around the steering wheel, as he gets his eyes back on the road again.

“I think it was,” I sing song.

“You made me doubt you competence as a person,” he shakes his head.

“Well I’m sure if we ever meet again I’ll probably do something to make you doubt my competence again, count that as the practice round,” I wink as he pulls up outside the studio, stopping the car parallel to the entrance staircase.

“I hope we do meet again,” he says quietly.

“Me too,” I murmur.

We both look up at the same time, our eyes meeting. Both unable to look away. My heart hammers in my chest and my leg bounces up and down. I’m so addicted to the sight of him that I contemplate skipping rehearsals.

“Thank you,” I whisper, tearing my gaze away. Why did I have to be responsible?

“You better keep that promise,” he tells me.

“I will, don’t worry,” I smile, “thank you so much again, you’ve been a life saver.”

“I think we sort of saved each other,” he replies, it was a little cheesy but makes me smile widely nevertheless.

I sigh, a lean back, “We’re going to be all over the newspapers tomorrow.”

I didn’t know why I was still talking but my mouth always seems to struggle when it’s time to stop moving and so something productive. Or maybe… maybe it was because I wanted more time with him.

“All press is good press,” he shrugs nonchalantly. He knows what it’s like to deal with this crazy lifestyle, he gets it. I didn’t think I’d really ever get to know anyone who would understand how I feel.

“They’re going to speculate we’re dating,” I warn him.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Grayson asks me, quirking a brow upwards and tipping his head to the side.

“Are you flirting with me?” I blurt out before my brain can filter my words.

“If I was would you want me to stop?” he questions.

“No,” I murmur, without a second a hesitation.

“Can I have your number?” Grayson asks.

“What?” I reply, slightly in shock whilst still trying to process the information.

“Incase you ever need me to drive you away from paparazzi again, of course,” he says, biting his bottom lip ever so slightly.

I smile tickles my lips, “of course…”

I quickly fumble around for the pen at the bottom of my bag and look for some paper.

“Just write it here,” he says, running a finger across his hand.

“Are you sure? What if you get ink poisoning?” I ask.

“I’ll have your number so it would’ve been worth it,” he smiles, smoothly.

A chill runs down my spine and I feel all warm and fuzzy.

“You know you’re really good at this whole flirting thing,” I tell him, smiling like an idiot on drugs.

“I’m glad you think so,” he replies. Why did his voice have to be so addictive? It isn’t fair!

I slowly lean down and write the numbers etched into my brain onto his hand. I concentrate hard to make the numbers look neat and tidy, incase a girl with messy handwriting was a red flag for him. I take a minute to analyse his hands, they were strong, slightly tanned but looked so soft. I remember back to when my hand was in his when we were running and how perfectly mine fit into his. Maybe one day we’d hold hands just for the feelings between us and not in a freezer attempt to escape flashing cameras and annoying people. I bring my head back up and stare at the number, thinking how awful my handwriting looks. I tip my head up further and my eyes meet Grayson’s. He wasn’t looking at the number on his hand, he was looking at me.

Now our faces are inches from one another’s but I’m selfish enough to want them to be closer. After a few moments of our eyes being cemented in place, analysing each feature of one another’s faces, I slowly realise that I need to leave. My rational senses pull together and I step out of the car to begin to make my way towards the rehearsal centre. I can hear the car hasn’t yet left. He’s waiting, I can feel him watching, he’s making sure I’m safe. It makes me beam even wider.

“And hey,” I say, turning around, “you ever want a free concert ticket, it’s yours.”

“I might have to take you up on that,” Grayson smiles, causing a warmth to blossom in my heart.

I had a feeling this wasn’t the last time we were going to meet…

a/n: sorry this took me so long!! I got wayyy to carried away whilst writing this… originally it wasn’t going to be this long but here we are. anon, whoever you are, I hope you enjoyed this and if not I can try again!! you were my first request ever and that means a lots, so thank you!!

also I feel like I wrote Grayson really out of character but the reasoning behind that was in my mind I thought in public settings or around his family he has to be the serious one always on task etcetera but when he meets someone who doesn’t know he’s Grayson Hawthorne, he allows himself to be someone more open… IDKKKK but thanks for reading anyways 🤍🤍

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