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esote-rika · 1 day ago

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lose some, win some | Spencer Reid Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Waldorf!Reader Category: Hurt/Comfort, Smut 18+, MDNI Summary: COLLEGE AU! When your debate team loses the national championship, you and Spencer return to your shared room and find a productive way to take out your frustrations. Content: Waldorf!Reader is a sore loser, lots of dialogue in the beginning, Sassy!Spencer, some talk of misogyny, Spencer makes up for it by being a munch (so f receiving oral), virgin!Spencer but he’s also a little shit, they are both little shits but it’s cute I swear, handjob, raw p in v but reader mentions she is on the pill, creampies, multiple orgasms for both of them (they’re frustrated and horny give them a break) Word count: 4.8k (it's porn with a plot for once) A/N: Not really frenemies or rivals, they’re just really angry young adults. Idk what Spencer’s actual age was in college, but he studied several times so for this fic, he’s on his third degree and is 21. If the debate stuff is incorrect, I'm sorry. I did do some research but there's so many different rules and styles lmfao. My friend who competes says it’s fine and understandable so :) also massive thanks to @just-call-me-by-yn @mggslover and @notlongtolove for helping me brainstorm and @wheresmacoffee because she was there JK ILY ANDY their banter during the filthy part is for you <3.

Spencer Reid doesn’t particularly care about the prestige that comes with winning. Most people crave it for the validation, or because it’s another impressive thing they can slap onto their resumes, but being a genius his entire life allows him not to worry about that. His academics speak for themselves. He doesn’t need to pad it with extracurriculars. Instead, he enjoys the skills that are honed from debate—learning to listen to arguments, finding the perfect way to rebut, memorization and reviewing with like minded individuals. The university team is a well oiled machine composed of four people— him on his third degree, two other male juniors, and you, the only woman.

Over the span of two semesters, he’s memorized the quirks of his teammates. It’s essential to building rapport, after all, and he’s eager to get something good out of this. Something less academic, and more social. Friends, perhaps. While he’s formed a bond with the other members, you have always been an enigma. Stoic and ambitious, you remind him of a statue. Cold and oh so beautiful. You’ve often kept to yourself. And after several rejected attempts at friendship, he’s learned to just observe from afar.

He knows from experience that observing allows you deep insight into people, and so he knows after two semesters that you’re perhaps the most competitive out of the entire team, the most hungry for a win. This drive, he suspects, comes from a deeply rooted desire to prove yourself, though he’s unsure why. What else do you have to prove? You have everything, as far as he’s concerned. Keenly intelligent, beautiful, with a circle of friends that adore you. You aren’t like him, who has to sink his claws deep into this debate team in order to get a dose of social interaction. No, you have a life, no matter how marblesque you may seem.

And yet, somehow it’s still not enough for you.

He thinks it’s utterly ridiculous, and absolutely fascinating.

The weekend of nationals is taxing. You’ve been fighting for the opener role since the semis, but it would require too much adjustment, which no one is willing to risk so close to nationals. Not only does he not want to give up his spot, he also knows how ruthless you can be as a rebuttal speaker. He's meek, and you have a tendency to be aggressive, it's why the original roles go so well.

Your adviser agreed, and there’s been tension ever since.

To make matters worse, hotel arrangements somehow have placed both of you in the same room. The force of your resentment is palpable even to a normally clueless guy like him. Distracting. Pages being turned in your exaggerated annoyance. He’d complain of dramatics, but he doesn’t want to start anything.

The fact that you’re rooming together also doesn’t help him. Sure, there are different beds, small twin mattresses on either side of the room, but still. Proximity to a woman his age has him anxious for reasons entirely unrelated to nationals.

So when you lose the championship, his concern for your reaction behind doors overwhelms the regret of losing.

No one is happy with the results. It is obvious from the set of his jaw, the tenseness of your shoulders. Spencer tries to calm down, accept defeat with a modicum of grace, at least in front of other people. He can tell the rest of the team is trying too, but quite unconvincingly. Onstage, accepting the medals for second place—mockingly silver, and no trophies—the team’s smiles are forced, plastic.

Back to the hotel rooms are a different story. When you slam the hotel door shut, it echoes down the hall and makes even your debate adviser flinch. It would have made Spencer flinch too, if he hadn't already expected it. He's grown accustomed to how bad of a loser you can be. Like a tornado, your anger spares no one from its destruction. It is in these moments that your stoic resolve crumbles, no longer unfeeling, but rather fully human. Hurtful. Ruthless Unfortunately for him, he's directly in your line of fire.

He catches bits and pieces of your muttered diatribes. He’s used to those too. Normally, he would have ignored them. Losing sucks the energy out of a person, regardless of how uncompetitive he is. Besides, your ranting is mostly harmless, until one sentence snags his attention.

“— knew I should have been the opening speaker —”

He is clawing at his tie, trying desperately to get it off, but the words make him stop immediately. He whirls around, brows furrowed, “What?”

You pause as well, “What?”

“What did you say about being the opening speaker?” He watches you roll your eyes. It does nothing to calm the bitterness in the back of his throat. The normal song and dance goes like this: he’d say a string of words in an attempt to soothe the fire burning in your nerves, and you'd say something so vitriolic he'd refuse to speak to you for the rest of your time together.

But today, having just lost the biggest championship after working so hard, he's a short fuse and your words are incendiary.

“I said I should have done it, like I asked—”

“Ah, as usual, you're mad that you didn't get what you wanted.”

An offended scoff. He's almost proud he managed to pull that out of you. “You take too long—”

“Nationals isn't the time to suddenly alter the roles,” he tells you, shaking his head. He manages to loosen the tie, finally, tossing it on his bed with so much aggression it misses the mattress and lands limply on the floor, “I've always been the opening speaker.”

“Yes, and one would think that after going through so many debate competitions, you would learn to be more succinct,” you snap, shoes making harsh clacks against the tiled floor, “The goal isn't to let us know you're the smartest person in the room, Spencer, it's to set up the tone and groundwork of—”

“I don't need you to lecture me about being the opening,” he interrupts, “I know what my role requires of me.”

“Do you?” Eyes flashing, you walk to him until you're almost chest to chest, “Because we still lost.”

“And you blaming me?” he hisses, leaning down. He hates doing this, stooping to your level of pettiness. Normally, he would choose to be the bigger person, refusing your verbal sparring; he likes to focus his energy on the actual debate, the opposing team, not his own teammates. But your words cut deeper than normal; it isn't the fault the team lost, that's just a flat out lie, “We advised you multiple times to memorize the statistics—”

“Something you're better at!” You look physically pained to admit his superiority, but the words spill anyway, “You'd be so much better to do the rebuttals since you have your stupid photographic memory, and I can set the tone better, but nobody on this little boys club ever listens to me!”

He's surprised at the choked tone your voice has taken. In his mind, you're a complete equal—you made it to the team through hard work and impeccable skills, like the rest of them did, after all. It didn't matter that you are a woman to him, so of course his instinct is to deny. “That’s not true.” but even his voice sounds weak.

How would he know if it’s not true? He’s never been in your shoes before, never had to reckon with what comes with being the only woman in a team of men.

“Isn’t it?” he flinches at the venom in your voice, “You all act like I'm an afterthought—I get the shittiest positions even when I know I can be more effective in a different one, no one ever asks me for strategy, hell, you never invite me to your stupid chess games.”

His mouth opens and closes foolishly, latching on to the one thing he has a full response to, “I thought you hate chess.”

A sharp laugh, petulant and bitter, “I do, but it would have been nice to be included.”

He doesn’t know what to say. You’ve turned around, yanking off your pristine maroon blazer so roughly he’s afraid it might rip. The silence that grows makes him itch, hands balling into fists as he tries to think of what to do. Social dynamics have always been a thing of mystery to him.

He wonders if he is part of this problem. He’s no stranger to feeling different and on the outs, and it pains him to think that he inadvertently caused someone else to feel that same, unpleasant exclusion.

But, no. Quickly, he recalls every single time he’s tried to include you—a museum trip that you’d declined because you had a party you wanted to attend. His extra tickets to the Nutcracker.

“That’s not true,” his voice is firm now, following you until he’s standing right behind. Lavender hits his nose and his brain registers the scent of your shampoo. Definitely too close if he can smell that, but he refuses to back away, intent on getting his point across, “That’s not true, I’ve tried to— you were always too busy.”

“What, I’m a liar now?” you spin around, pretty features twisted to somehow express both anger and hurt. He almost falters. Almost.

But he’s too worked up, even though he knows he should back off, to not trivialize your experiences in order to defend himself. He should know better than this, but the sting of your accusation spurs him on. So he pushes, eyes narrowing, “Last year, September 14, 21, and 29, I invited you to come with us for several casual chess tournaments, you declined all invitations because you claimed you hated chess. October 29th, I told you about the new exhibit they were displaying—”

“It was Halloween weekend, I already had plans—”

“December 19th, I offered you Nutcracker tickets and you said you’d already seen it—”

“I have,” your voice has grown quiet now, and if he stops speaking for a single moment to look, your features have relaxed into something gentler. But he’s on a roll, and you have always been right about things; his inability to be succinct is one of them.

“Even this year, I invited you to study multiple times, but you’ve always had prior plans,” the words are spoken with neutrality. He isn’t even angry anymore, just eager to list everything down and let you know how hard he’s tried with you. Even after the numerous rejections, he’s made an effort, but of course, you have other friends, other plans outside your nerdy debate team. He’s never held that against you, but if you wanted to point fingers, he has the means to defend himself. And sure, he wants to prove you wrong on some level too, but that’s the lesser point. “Maybe if you stopped acting like you’re better than me, and just accepted, you wouldn’t be feeling so excluded.”

“I don’t act like I’m better than you.”

“You just said you would have made a better opening speaker.”

You scoff, “Oh my god, you’re infuriating, I can’t believe I’m stuck with you!”

Spencer bristles at that, “I’m giving you the facts, it’s not my fault you can’t handle them.” he says, leaning closer, trying to make her see his point, “You’re always so closed off and the other guys have just given up trying. Maybe if you—”

“What? If I smiled more? Acted less like a bitch?” you sneer, eyes narrowed dangerously, “I thought a genius like you would know better than to use misogynistic language like that.”

“Wha— no! Don’t put words in my mouth.” Spencer replies, shaking his head. The conversation is devolving into something dangerous, the air crackling with something electric. He assumes it’s anger. They will never get anywhere, so he sighs, softening slightly, “I never said that. I’m just pointing out that you weren’t blameless in this, you know?”

You’re silent. He watches you, takes in how the resentment in your eyes have been dulled by something more contemplative.

He continues, “Listen, I’m sorry if we’ve made you feel like you were on the outs. I’m sure we have to do so much reflection as a team and as individuals about how we treat each other, but it’s unfair to say that we never include you when I have actively been making efforts to—”

Your lips are upon him.

That’s inaccurate.

You are upon him, arms flung around his neck, body pressed flush against his. He feels the entire world tilt, and he’s unsure if it’s because you’re pulling him down or because your lips are so pillowy he’s instantly eager for more. Wants it like a man starved. Needs it, needs more, but his body betrays him. Whether it’s his inexperience or surprise or a combination of both. He freezes, blinking rapidly at the sight of you. Eyes shut, and face so close to him; so, so close he can count each individual eyelash, see the tiny freckle on your eyelid that gets hidden if your eyes are open.

And then you're gone. The freckle disappears as you look at him with wide eyed mortification.

“Shit, Spencer, I—”

It’s his lips that cut you off this time, seeking out the velvety warmth of your mouth. Your lips part under his, and he registers a sound, soft and whining. It takes him a moment to realize it came from him, from the back of his throat and muffled by your lips and tongue and oh you’re both falling.

Literally. He must have leaned too far into you; you’re suddenly collapsing, forcing him down because your arms have him in a vice grip and he’s too busy chasing after your lips. The next thing he knows is he’s on top of you and you’re sprawled on the bed beneath him. Time stands still; he’s painfully aware of how cliche that is, but every sense of eloquence seems to have been expelled from his brain as he takes you in; lips swollen and wet from his kisses, pupils blown wide. Every breath you take pushes your chest up against his, and he can feel your heart thrumming against his body.

“Well, that was one way of shutting you up,” you chuckle with a cockiness that makes his heart speed up, though it isn’t borne out of embarrassment. Every single physiological effect of your body is evidence that you’re enjoying this, telling him you’re just as worked up as he is. The breathiness in your voice, the quickness of your heartbeat.

The fact that you’re pulling him down again, legs hooking around his hips. He surrenders to it, lips meeting yours once again, deeper and more desperate this time.

He closes his eyes, relishing this, kissing you, touching you, an act he had believed is reserved for attractive jocks and charismatic art nerds. Not him, quiet and lanky, shifting to avoid his angular bones from digging into you, and to place himself more comfortably on the bed. Inexperienced, ungainly, and yet here he is, his tongue pushing into your mouth in his first forays into something that his peers have experienced years ago.

Spencer Reid isn’t used to being the one behind, doing the catching up. Child prodigy, genius, the words aren’t meaningless. He’s been ahead academically—which, up until this point, has been his whole life. But feeling warm lips beneath his own has him reconsidering some of his life choices.

The kiss is messy. Sloppy from his clumsy attempts to keep up with your eagerness. You’re tugging at something, and he realizes it’s to untuck the rest of the crisp shirt you’ve donned for the debate tournament out from your skirt. His hands settle on your waist, finding smooth, heated skin from where your shirt has ridden up. Careful fingers help push it up, burying under the fabric until his palms are mapping out the slopes of your body.

Soft. So damn soft.

Not cold marble after all. He theorizes you must be soft everywhere, and he decides to test it out with his lips, laving kisses along your jaw, down the sweet, musky skin of your neck where your perfume still lingers. Instincts take over and he allows himself a taste, tongue darting out. You shudder, so he does it again, greedy for your pretty moans and gasps.

He can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips, “Thought you were mad at me?” he mumbles, trailing his kisses down the column of your throat.

You’re all mhms and ohhhs right now, so far from the usual image you present to the world, a preppy, manicured woman who wrestles for control over everything. You must hate this, he thinks, being beneath him physically, caged within his arms which are deceptively strong for how fragile he looks.

“Shut up,” you grumble.

“Make me.” His grin is dopey when he lifts his head to meet her gaze.

Something brushes against his crotch, and now he’s the one gasping, jerking in surprise at the friction. You’ve slotted your thigh between his, and his traitorous body responds by grinding down on it shamelessly. The look on your face is smug, triumphant.

“Huh,” saccharine and mocking, you blink up at him innocently, “That was easier than I thought.”

His head drops to your neck again, but he isn’t kissing you anymore. Just open mouthed breathing as he rubs himself on your thigh, hands tightening on your sides, “Mhm.”

“Are you gonna come? Spencer, I haven’t even touched you yet.”

He sinks his teeth into your flesh to fight the needy whines because yes, he’s so embarrassingly close and you’re both still fully dressed. He hears a hiss, and he backs off immediately, murmuring apologies, “Didn’t mean to—”

“‘S okay,” you tilt your head back, give him more access to your neck, “Just don’t leave marks.”

Permission to bite. He gulps, heart beating wildly, before ducking back down. Chapped lips run over your neck, finding a soft spot to bite, forcing himself to soften the way his teeth sink into your skin. All the while rubbing himself on your thigh because it’s probably the closest thing to heaven a man such as him will ever experience.

He hears your laughter, your mocking cooes of, “You’re so fucking needy” but he can’t bring himself to care.

You’re correct, he decides, as you usually are. He’s needy, desperately so, eagerly chasing the delicious pleasure of dry humping your thigh.

“Hold on, Spencer.”

You push him back gently. A whine rips from his throat, “Mhm—why?”

He gets his answer soon enough. Your hands undo his belt and he swears this sets his whole body on fire. Nobody’s ever seen him like this. Never has another person touched him so intimately, seen him so out of control, so brainless. He’s babbling incoherently as your hand strokes up and down his length, his hips rutting into your hand. It’s out of sync. Two dancers on entirely different rhythms.

Your laughter rings in his ears, one hand tangled in his hair as the other does unspeakable, tantalizing things to his aching cock.

“Mhm, can’t— I’m gonna—” and he’s spilling into your hand, hot, viscous liquid overflowing from your hand and staining your skirt, “Ah, shit.”

He collapses against you, head on the crook of your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath. “‘M sorry, I’ll– I’ll pay for your dry cleaning.”

Your chest shakes as you laugh, “Would you? I think you owe me more than that.” The heat in your voice makes his breath catch in his throat.

Soft kisses press upon your neck as he gathers his thoughts, willing his brain to work again. Anatomy, female anatomy. Female pleasure. What does he know about this? A lot, surprisingly, though mostly from books. Mostly in theory, but that’s a start. He can put them to practice right now. His hands drag down your sides until they catch the waistband of your skirt. “May I?”

“Okay.”

He pulls gently, exposing the rest of your thighs and legs. Honey brown eyes devour the expanse of your skin, hands clutching at the softness. He marvels at the way your flesh accepts his own, bright red splotches imprinted from his fingertips.

He thinks of poetry, the uncountable amount of words and phrases written to immortalize women and love and sex, and he finds himself wishing he has the skill to compose something as beautiful, something worthy of you right now, radiant and half naked and somehow all his.

But he is no poet, so he touches his lips upon your body instead. Pretty words will escape him, but his lips can speak even without them, he’ll make sure of it. He kisses down your abdomen, making sure to pay attention to every hidden freckle and birthmark he comes across. Your reactions make him feel drunk, to the point of affecting him physically. Messier kisses. Hands tugging and nearly ripping the lace of your panties because he’s unaware of his own strength.

“So pretty,” he mumbles, “So pretty.” It’s all he can repeat, but then his tongue lands on your slick heat and suddenly words are forgotten in favor of vague groaning. Because how can he accurately describe the sensation of this? Tasting you. God how has he gone so long without this? Your nails scraping his scalp, his fingers sinking into your thighs as he keeps you still. He’s halfway off the bed, legs dangling off the edge, your thighs squeezing his face.

There’s nowhere else he would rather be.

He laps at your folds like a mad man, tongue pressed flat and dragging up slowly to get as much of you in his mouth as possible. His feet find the floor, allowing himself more stability to once again rub his growing erection against a solid object. The poor mattress is going to be ruined once they’re done.

“Faster,” you gasp, jerking your hips into his face, “Spencer— oh, yeah like that!”

Spencer Reid is a quick study, and when he hears the positive reactions, he doubles down until he feels you convulse against his tongue. You jerk so violently he has to hold you down. He pushes his tongue past your entrance experimentally, and feels you tug roughly on his hair in response, gasping his name and God’s name in slurred phrases as you ride out your high.

It’s the hottest damn thing he’s ever experienced.

“Jesus Christ,” you gasp, and he has to repeat that ridiculous sentence again, because it’s true and he feels you deserve it.

“You’re so pretty.” He fears you might be some kind of magnet, because his lips keep getting drawn back to your skin. He lets his kisses travel up your hip bone, before grinning up at you, “Even when you’re being insufferable, you’re still so beautiful.”

“Gee thanks,” you huff, pulling at his arm, “How romantic, I’m swooning.”

“Might not be swooning, but you did just come on my face.” brilliant rows of teeth flash at you as he smiles smugly.

“Asshole.”

“Is that how you say thank you?” he drags his body up lazily, draping himself over you.

“I’m not— wait, are you hard again?”

“Uh…”

“Needy, needy boy.” you pull him down to you, and he almost protests, his chin and mouth still covered with your slick. But you don’t seem to care, so he follows your lead, God at this point he would follow you anywhere at all. You’re shifting beneath him, and the next thing he knows is your legs are wrapped around his waist again, your heat completely exposed and pressing against his cock.

“Mhm,” he pulls back, eyes wide, “I—”

“What?” you whisper, lifting your head to continue giving him kisses, teeth playfully nipping at his jaw, “It’s fine, I’m on birth control.”

“It’s not that,” he can’t deny you, his body relaxing back down over you. His lips catch yours for a moment, slow and achingly tender, “I’ve just never really done this before.”

He waits for the inevitable laughter. Here he is, at 21, and somehow still the same person he had been when he first entered college at 14. But you continue to look at him with heavy lids, breathless and flushed.

“Okay,” your voice is kind, sweet, “Take it slow then.” your hand wraps around his length again, the movement slower this time, as you align him to your entrance. He hisses as the sensitive tip grazes against your folds, as he feels your entrance slowly give way to him and envelop his cock.

“Oh,” he sighs. With your help, he sinks halfway into you, one hand gripping your hip, the other bracing himself on his elbow. Eyes squeezed shut, he stills and manages to ask, “Are you okay?”

You don’t speak, and so he forces his eyes to focus and look at you. The sight has him twitching inside you. Mouth agape and eyes hazy, you’re nodding up at him wordlessly as your hips rock up into his. “More.”

It’s exhilarating. He’s known you for the past year, worked alongside you but respected your need for distance. And now, here you are, not merely close, but one. Spencer sighs, and thrusts shallowly, eyes zeroed in on you and your reactions. He doesn’t want to hurt you, doesn’t want it to end too soon, so he moves slowly, dragging out his cock until only the tip rests inside you, then sliding into the hilt.

It elicits the most mellifluous sounds from you, making him smile in relief. He lets his forehead rest against yours, thrusts growing more confident, but still in that slow, almost dreamy pace. He memorizes every detail of this moment, from the way your eyes flutter closed, to the quiver of your legs as they wrap tighter around his thighs.

“So good,” he hears himself say, “God, you feel so good.”

“Mhm,” you nod, nails digging into his back, even through his clothes. In the heat of the moment, you’re both still half dressed, only getting rid of your bottom clothes in order to get what you need from each other, “More, Spencer, I need more.”

He nods, letting his thrusts grow faster, rougher. It’s an awkward angle, he’s afraid his knees will start cramping, but the feeling of being surrounded by your warmth, drowning in your moans has him reckless. “There?” he grunts, angling just so, and he can’t help the smirk on his face when he feels your walls clenching around him.

“There, there, yes!”

He’s not sure how he manages to last as long as he does. Maybe it’s the sheer desire to feel you fall apart, for his cock to be drenched in your slick that keeps his release at bay. Maybe he has too much pent up sexual energy that’s just been dying to come out. Whatever it is, he’s thankful for it, because it means he’s spending more time inside you, hips moving with so much impact he’s pushing you forward with each thrust.

“Yes, just like that.” you’re shuddering beneath him, and he moves his arm to the top of your head, creating a barrier between you and the headboard so you don’t hit it. He could stop, readjust your positions, but he doesn’t have it in him.

No, he wants to stay inside you, forever if there’s an anatomically feasible way to do it. But unless he invents it, he’ll settle for right now, settle for the heat between your bodies, and how you’re practically melting into the mattress, arching so prettily against him.

“You close?” he murmurs, one hand finding your clit, drawing gentle circles with his fingertips.

“No fair,” you whine, bucking into him, “That’s cheat— Spencer!”

You come undone in the most enthralling way, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip bitten by your own lips. You squeeze and flutter around him, and he’s helpless to stop his own release, spilling deep inside you with a broken cry from his own mouth. Your name is whispered, over and over again, until he stills, his vision blurry as he collapses against you.

He curls around you, trying to get as close, “You—that was—wow.”

You giggle, still breathless and glassy eyed, “Are you sure that was your first time?”

“Yes,” he gives you a series of kisses along your temple, “Yes, it was. You—wow.” he carefully pulls out of you, hissing quietly when the cool air conditioned air hits his sensitive flesh. “Was that enough of an apology for not including you to our chess nights?”

“You’re making jokes now?”

“No,” he smiles, leaning away to look at you, all starry eyed and boneless, “Not a joke. Because if it’s not enough, I can do it again.” a kiss to your cheek, “And again.” one on the tip of your nose, “And again.”

When you laugh in response, he cups your cheek, “I mean it.” he says with all the seriousness he can muster.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Does this mean you’ll accept my invitations now?” he lights up, a large smile splitting his face.

“Only if it’s a date.”

"Then it's a date."

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tfwbluu · 2 days ago

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PAIRING — ni-ki + f!reader

WARNINGS — no plot, sub!riki & dom!reader, pegging, reader referring her strap-on as cock, reader’s older; noona kink, overstimulation/edging, pet names; lots of good boy & pretty boy, handcuffs, some slapping, oral (f. rec), size kink; belly bulge, raw sex (stay safe!), face riding/sitting, some nipple play, cockwarming, some very light aftercare.

WORDCOUNT — 3.9K

NOTE — i just love sub riki so bad ( ꩜///꩜;)⁭ ⁭!! i couldn’t help myself but indulge myself in this despite me almost losing my mind over how i wanted to go w it but here it is . . . might be a bit rushed but idk anyway.

It had been a few years since you and Riki started dating, and your relationship had settled into a comfortable rhythm. Your sex life was, for the most part, ordinary—fulfilling, yet nothing out of the box.

Riki, who had been shy in the beginning, gradually grew confident and usually took the lead. You’d always assumed he preferred being the dominant one, something you were perfectly fine with. Most of your intimate moments followed that dynamic, and it suited you both well—or so you thought.

It was a quiet Saturday evening, the kind where time seemed to stretch lazily. You were lounging on the couch in nothing but a pair of panties and Riki’s oversized hoodie, playing with your phone and enjoying your day off.

That's why it completely caught you off guard when your pretty boyfriend suddenly tugged at the sleeve of your hoodie. His expression was shy, cheeks flushed a soft pink, as he looked up at you with those big, innocent eyes that made your heart flutter. He was kneeling in front of you, his gaze filled with something needy, paired with the cutest pout on his lips. In your hand, you held the strap-on he had given you.

You blinked at him, processing the scene in front of you. “Riki,” you started softly, your voice laced with amusement and curiosity. “You do know what you’re asking for, right?”

He nodded quickly, biting his lip as his gaze flickered down to the toy in your hand and then back up to your face. “Please,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with longing.

You couldn’t help but smirk at how adorable he looked, his usual confident demeanor nowhere to be found. “Since when were you this needy?” you teased, reaching out to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over the soft skin as he leaned into your touch.

“It’s only for you,” he murmured, his words making your chest tighten and the heat pool in your core.

“Well then,” you said, your voice soft but firm as you straightened up your posture, towering slightly over him. “If that’s the case, you’ll have to be good for me. Can you do that, baby?”

“Yes… yes, I can,” he stammered, his cheeks burning even redder as he glanced up at you, utterly at your mercy.

He was practically begging, his lips pushed out in that irresistible pout, making him look like a sad little duck. A part of you wanted to kiss him right then and there, but that thought was quickly overshadowed when he whispered his next words.

“Won’t you take care of me, Noona?” His voice was soft, almost innocent, as he rested his cheek against your knee. A wave of heat rushed through you, settling deep in your core.

“Mm...? You want Noona to take care of you?” you cooed, gently stroking his cheek, your thumb ghosting over his lips.

“Please…” he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm, his breath warm against your skin.

“Then strip for me, baby,” you commanded, watching as he stood up, carefully taking his time as he slipped out of his clothes. His eyes stayed locked on you, a glimmer of tease dancing within them. Meanwhile, you calmly adjusted the strap, ensuring it sat snugly.

Now bare before you, his breath hitched as you motioned him closer with a flick of your finger. Obediently, he sank back onto his knees, his body trembling slightly with anticipation. With a firm yet gentle touch, you tilted his chin upward, forcing his gaze to meet yours.

The stark contrast between his bare vulnerability and your still fully-clothed figure sent a wave of heat coursing through him. His cock twitched, already oozing with arousal, betraying just how much the dynamic excited him.

“Is this what you want, baby?” you teased, brushing the tip along his flushed cheek. He parted his lips instinctively, eager to take what you were offering.

“Ah-ah, patience,” you murmured, fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him back slightly. A soft whimper escaped his lips at the pull, sending a shiver of satisfaction through you.

“Please, need you so bad…” he whined, his voice trembling with desperation as he kneeled before you, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wide, pleading.

“My, you're so needy,” you mused, running the tip over his soft lips, your smirk growing as he kissed it without hesitation. “Are you always this desperate for my cock, baby boy?” His eyes flickered with desperation as he nodded, lips parting ever so slightly, his breath warm against your skin.

“Then be a good boy for me,” you whispered, your voice laced with authority. “Go on, show me how much you want it.”

Riki moved with ease, his lips brushing over the tip with delicate attention. He started slow—too slow for your liking—so you tangled your fingers in his hair, guiding him further down the toy with a firmer grip. A soft whimper escaped his lips, but he didn’t resist, surrendering completely as his warm mouth enveloped more of it. His eyes fluttered shut, a delicate blush spreading across his cheeks, the soft, muffled sounds he made filling the room. A thin trail of spit clung to the silicone, glistening under the light, evidence of just how much he wanted to please you.

“You’re making such a mess…” you teased, running your thumb along his flushed cheek, making him open his eyes gently.

You watched intently as he took in the whole toy, his breath hitching with every inch. It was slightly bigger than his own length, if your guess was right, and the way his body adjusted to it was mesmerizing.

His face was flushed, his breath uneven, and the way he looked up at you—eyes hazy with desire, mouth slightly parted with a faint trail of drool at the corner—made your heart skip a beat. He sucked onto the toy with newfound fervor, entirely caught in his own daze, surrendering himself completely to your control.

Just when he seemed fully lost in you, you abruptly pulled the toy away, a thin trail of saliva connecting his lips to the tip. A small whine of protest escaped him, his pout deepening as he looked up at you with longing. Before he could voice his frustration, you slapped his cheek, the motion enough to make him still. Then, cupping his jaw, you tilted his head upward, making him meet your gaze.

“Shh, no whining,” you murmured, a playful glint in your eyes. “Good boys don’t whine.”

“‘M sorry, Noona… ngh!” His lips parted in a quiet apology, but all that came out was a needy little sound as your fingers ghosted over his skin, flicking and fondling with his nipples gently. The way he twitched under your touch sent a thrill through you. Pulling him into a sweet kiss, you silenced his whines, letting his soft, needy sounds melt into you.

“Let’s move to the bed, yeah?” you suggested, breaking the kiss and guiding him toward it. Once there, you gently pushed him down, his wide eyes meeting yours, uncertainty flickering across his face as he reached out but hesitated.

“Noona…” he whispered, eyes searching yours.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve got you,” you reassured him, pressing a soft kiss to his trembling fingers.

“Did you prep beforehand?” you asked, your voice was gentle yet teasing as you reached for the bottle of lube at the bedside drawer. Squeezing some out, you carefully coated it around the strap-on, the motion slow and careful. With a playful grin, you swiped a bit onto his hole, making sure it was well-coated.

Riki nodded shyly, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he watched you, anticipation clear in his gaze. His fingers curled into the sheets, his breath hitching as you positioned yourself against him.

“Oh, but before that…” you murmured, mostly to yourself. Reaching for a pair of cuffs, you carefully secured them around his wrists, locking them to the headboard. “You’ll take it like a good boy, right?” you said with a satisfied grin.

“This is unfair…” he pouted, his lips forming an adorable frown at the feeling of being restrained. But his protest vanished the moment your hands settled on his waist, the tip of the toy finally prodding his entrance.

“You were the one that wanted this, baby, so let me take care of you without you interrupting me, hmm?” you murmured, brushing a hand over his thigh, spreading his legs apart before meeting his eyes with a knowing smirk. “Just let me know if it’s too much, alright? You know the word,” you reminded gently, finally pushing into him, making him moan as you filled him up.

“Fuck… yes yes yes, Noona~!” he moaned, tilting his head back in pleasure, not giving him much time to adjust, you began thrusting. “Oh fuck!”

“Yeah, you like it when I fuck into you like this? Love it when I fill you up, mhm?” you teased, your hips snapping into him with a relentless rhythm.

“Mhm… Noona… you feel so good inside me, ah!” he babbled, his voice laced with need. His cock, flushed a deep red and twitching with need, throbbed painfully as his hips instinctively bucked into the empty air, silently pleading for attention.

Your gaze finally drifted to his neglected arousal, watching as it slapped against his stomach with every involuntary movement. Without a word, you brought your hand down sharply, delivering a quick slap to his cock that made him jolt and let out a broken gasp.

“Poor thing,” you murmured, your fingers wrapping around his length with a feather-light touch as you began stroking him slowly.

The contrast between your relentless thrusts and the gentle care of your hand on him sent him reeling, soft whimpers spilling from his lips as he quivered beneath you. “O-oh… mhmm~ fuck—Noona!” he murmured, his voice unsteady.

“Such a good boy for me, taking me so well, mhm?” you whispered softly into his ear, your voice dripping with sweetness. You pressed a trail of delicate kisses down the curve of his neck, pausing to leave faint, possessive marks on his tender skin. Your hips and hand continued their steady rhythm, drawing the prettiest sounds from him.

His breath hitched, and his entire face flushed a deeper shade of red, the blush creeping up to his ears. He tilted his head slightly, exposing more of his neck to you as if silently begging for more of your touch, completely lost in the bliss you gave him.

When you pulled back slightly to admire him, his glossy eyes met yours, and he immediately looked away, biting his lip to suppress a shy smile. His chest rose and fell rapidly, the combination of your relentless movements and tender words making his blush deepen.

“You’re so pretty like this,” you cooed, tucking a strand of his messy hair away. The compliment only made him squirm under your gaze, his cheeks burning even brighter. “Don’t hide from me now,” you teased, gently guiding his chin back so he couldn’t escape your adoring stare.

“Y-You’re too much,” he mumbled shyly, though his voice betrayed how much he loved the attention. His blush only made you lean in to kiss his flushed lips gently, savoring the warmth of his skin and the way he trembled under your touch.

He suddenly felt a knot tightening in his stomach, the heat building rapidly as he teetered on the edge. His breathing grew uneven, and his hands tugged against the cuffs, desperate to ground himself.

“‘M so c-close… please, Noona, let me cum, pretty please,” he pleaded gently, his hips instinctively moving against your hand.

“Go ahead baby, cum for me,” you commanded and it didn’t take long before his release spurts out coating his abs and your hands.

“Y-yes, oh fuck..!” he mewled, his hips stuttering as he tried in vain to squirm away from your endless ministrations.

“That’s it… what a good boy,” you teased, coaxing every last drop out of him.

He mumbled countless “thank yous,” his voice soft and breathy, finally relieved from the overwhelming high. His brief moment of relief didn’t last long, though, as you resumed teasing him. Keeping the strap-on still buried inside him, your fingers began to playfully rub his sensitive tip, drawing out more desperate whines from him.

“Noona, stop—ah, ’m s-sensitive!” he whined, squirming beneath your touch. You ignored his pleas, continuing to stroke his tip as he writhed in sensitivity. “Mmph… p-please! Too much!” he whined breathlessly.

"I’m barely even touching you, love," you teased, giving his cock a few light slaps before resuming your slow strokes. He writhed beneath you, his body betraying him as he moaned uncontrollably. "It seems your body is speaking louder than your words, baby. Look at you, fucking up into my hand like you’re begging for more."

Your movements were subtle, your hand barely stroking him, but his hips did all the work, driving against your touch in desperation. His restrained whimpers turned into broken cries, the intensity building with each passing second.

“Fuck!” he yelped, tugging at the restraints as his body tensed, overwhelmed by the relentless sensations. He squirmed helplessly, unable to hold back as his release finally hit him. With a sharp gasp, his cum spilled out in messy, hot trails across his skin, leaving him trembling beneath you.

“There you go,” you cooed, your tone both soft and teasing, slowing your strokes to a stop as he twitched beneath your touch. “I knew you had it in you.” You smiled down at him, composed and satisfied, while he struggled to catch his breath, his flushed face a picture of exhaustion and bliss.

You finally pulled your strap out of him, his soft whine at the emptiness tugging at your heart as you set it aside. Slipping off your panties, you freed yourself from its confines, letting out a sigh of relief. Gently holding his chin between your fingers, you tilted his face up to meet your gaze.

“Want a treat?” you asked softly, your voice laced with playful affection.

He nodded obediently, his wide, eager eyes fixed on yours, but that wasn’t enough for you. With a sharp slap to his cock, you watched as he flinched, a desperate whimper leaving his lips. “Use your words, baby,” you demanded, your tone firm.

“Y-yes, please, noona,” he stammered, his voice trembling with need, his blush deepening as he squirmed under your gaze.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Slowly, you moved to hover above his face, spreading your folds apart with your fingers, revealing just how much you needed him. Without a moment's hesitation, he leaned in, his lips latching onto your clit. His tongue worked with practiced ease, swirling and sucking as he savored your sweetness.

The room was filled with the melody of your soft moans and the wet, rhythmic slurping of his mouth, accompanied by his muffled hums of satisfaction. His hands twitched slightly in their restraints, his fingers curling as if longing to hold onto you, desperate for any sense of closeness. You rocked against his face, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure he gave so willingly.

“That’s it, pretty boy,” you murmured breathlessly, your fingers tangling in his hair as waves of pleasure coursed through your body.

A soft moan escaped your lips, your grip tightening slightly on his hair and the headboard as you watched him eagerly work his tongue, completely focused on pleasing you. “Enjoying yourself?” you teased, amusement lacing your tone.

“Mhm…” he mumbled, unable to form a full response as you ground desperately against his mouth, his cheeks flushed pink from both effort and the attention you were showering him with.

“Oh, fuck, yes… c’mon, baby, make me cum on that pretty face of yours,” you instructed, your voice breathless yet commanding.

Your words seemed to spark something in him, his determination intensifying as his lips and tongue moved with precision. His eyes stayed locked on yours, studying your every reaction, undeterred by your hand tugging at his hair. Your hips stuttered against his face, grinding instinctively as the knot in your stomach tightened, signaling your release.

“Fuck…!” you cried out, your climax washing over you in waves, your juices coating his lips and chin.

He didn’t waste a single drop, eagerly lapping up every bit, savoring your sweetness with a satisfied hum. As you came down from your high, your breaths were heavy and uneven. Moving off him gently, you brushed your thumb over his swollen lips, cleaning the remnants of your release.

“Need a break? Or can you take one more for me?” you asked gently, your fingers carding through his hair as you pressed soft kisses along his skin, your touch tender.

“One more... ‘ts okay...” he muttered, his voice slightly dazed, but the affirmation was clear in his tone. His eyes were half-lidded, still lost in the sensations, but he was eager to please you once again.

“Good boy,” you murmured, pressing soft kisses along his flushed skin. Moving to straddle him, you steadied yourself with one hand on his chest, hovering just above him. Guiding him carefully, you lowered yourself onto his cock, inch by inch, until he was fully buried inside you.

A shuddering sigh of relief escaped your lips as his tip nudged deep inside you, hitting all the right spots. Your head tilted back slightly, your lips parted in pleasure. “You fill me up so well,” you praised softly, your voice trembling with need.

You began to move slowly, rolling your hips to savor the way he stretched you perfectly. Your hands instinctively moved the hoodie up to rub over the slight bulge in your stomach, a teasing smile curving your lips. “Look at that,” you murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction, “such a huge cock for me to use…” You rolled your hips slowly, savoring every inch of him, your tone laced with playful dominance.

“Just for you,” he managed to breathe out, his voice shaky and strained, his eyes locked onto you, utterly captivated by how stunning you looked on top of him. His gaze flickered to the way your body moved, the way you arched, and his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths.

Biting his lip hard, he tried to hold himself together, but the overwhelming sensation was too much. His hands clenched tightly against the restraints, his knuckles white with effort. “Please, noona…” he whimpered, his voice barely audible, thick with need and desperation, trembling beneath your every movement.

“Patience, baby,” you cooed, your tone teasing but affectionate as you leaned in closer. “Let me savor you just a little longer.”

You took your time, moving slowly and purposefully, soaking in every moment while your eyes admired his flushed face and trembling body. Riki let out a small frustrated whine, but the pleasure coursing through him was enough to keep him from protesting further. It felt too good for him to do anything but let you have your way.

“Noona.. p-please… Can you move faster?” he asked softly, his voice almost a whisper, the slight pout of his lips making him look even more endearing.

“Since you asked so nicely,” you replied, finally moving faster. Both of you moaned in pleasure, the sounds of your arousal and wet skin slapping echoed loudly against the walls, filling the room with heat.

You leaned down to kiss his lips gently, your hands resting on his chest as your fingers teased his sensitive nipples. You could feel his hips bucking up to meet your movements, instinctively chasing his release. His desperation only made you smirk, watching how he completely surrendered himself to you, his body trembling and needy under your touch.

Your face stayed close to his, your breath mixing with his as you whispered, “I know you’re close, baby. Let’s cum together.”

With one final push, you sat with him deeply nestled inside you, your walls clenched tightly around him, pushing him over the edge as he spilled into you, his warmth filling you completely. You continued with slow, gentle movements before finally pulling away, watching with fascination as his release dripped from you.

“Ah… so messy, baby,” you murmured, scooping a mixture of your releases onto your finger and holding it to his lips. Without hesitation, he obediently sucked it clean, his cheeks flushed and eyes half-lidded.

You leaned down to kiss him softly, your lips brushing against his as you shared a tender moment, tasting one another as your hands worked to release the cuffs around his wrists. The moment they were undone, Riki’s arms shot up to wrap tightly around your waist, pulling you close, as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

As your breathing steadied, you nestled your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming you. His fingers lazily traced patterns on your back, his warmth a soothing contrast to the earlier intensity.

“You okay?” you asked softly, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

Riki smiled, his eyes filled with a rare softness. He kissed your forehead and whispered, “I’m okay, angel.” His voice was hoarse but tender, brimming with affection. Then, with a mischievous grin, he added, “Fuck, you’re so hot. Can we do that again sometime?”

You rolled your eyes, mockingly huffing, “Fucking pervert. I knew you weren’t such a dom. How long have you fantasized about me domming you, huh?”

He smirked, his gaze playful. “Now, now, my angel, that’s for me to know and you to find out.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Anyway, you wanna clean up?” you offered, shifting slightly to sit on his lap again.

Riki hummed thoughtfully, pulling you closer. “Hmm… we can do that later. But for now…” He trailed off, his intentions clear as he guided himself back into you, his tip brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Ngh… why are you so huge?” you whined softly, your body melting into him as he adjusted your position, laying you down beside him with his arms wrapped tightly around you.

He chuckled, his lips brushing against your forehead. “But you love it, angel. Don’t even try to deny it.”

“Mhm… sure,” you murmured teasingly, your voice laced with contentment.

“Let’s nap first and clean up later,” Riki grumbled, already feeling the soreness in his legs. “I can’t believe this is what you feel like after I’m done with you.”

“Hah, payback,” you replied smugly, smirking against his chest.

He groaned playfully, burying his face in your neck. “Shh, sleep, or I might just take you again right now.” He punctuated his words with a gentle thrust, making you yelp softly.

“Hmph, as long as you know you’re actually just a yearner and a good boy for me,” you teased, tracing your fingers over the faint marks you’d left on his neck.

“Yes, yes, I am,” he admitted with a soft groan. “Now, are you satisfied enough? I’m actually tired.”

You giggled as he pressed light kisses across your face before claiming your lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

“Mhm,” you hummed, melting into his warmth. “Love you.”

“I love you so much more, angel,” he murmured, holding you even tighter.

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, as the rest of the world faded away. Peaceful, content, and completely entwined, neither of you wanted the moment to end.

TAGLIST — @kikidoul @rikiives @contyynishimura @ziiao @lilmarsh-t @bxcndd @laylasbunbunny @d-dilemma

#( tfwbluu )#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen smut #enha smut #niki smut #niki x reader #niki x you #riki smut #riki x reader #riki x you #ni ki smut #ni ki x reader #ni ki x you #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enha hard thoughts #enha hard hours #sub enhypen

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emsdevs · 2 days ago

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saw you wanted luke hughes reqs, so ‼️

him coming back to your apartment after a game and just yapping to you because he needs to be close to feel better about how it went, but will never explicitly tell you that it helps him. you're just doing miscellaneous tasks, and he eventually starts whining about it, wanting to ay down and get head scratches/cuddles from you

(if this makes no sense, pretend i was never here 😭)

a/n: so so so sorry for the wait nonnie! i hope you still like it! i did in fact get carried away and wrote 1.6k words of mostly dialogue. is this a crack fic? possibly idk. anyway this was very much a lot of fun and my beautiful wonderful wife kirby helped inspire me

masterlist

Not-So-Silent Treatment

The Devils had an early game today, and although it was a Saturday, you had to this morning and couldn’t make it. That leads you to where you are now, finally home and in comfy clothes, cleaning as a way to pass the time until Luke gets home. Before you know it, you hear someone turn down the music you previously had blasting, whipping around to see who the intruder was after not hearing the door. When you turn, you’re met with your boyfriend, Luke, leaning against the doorway with a smirk on his face. He watched as you jumped, slapping your hand over your heart, hoping to somehow calm it down.

“You gotta turn the music down when you’re home alone, babe. What if I was a serial killer?” the smirk he’s still wearing tells you he’s not serious.

“Doesn’t mean you have to give me a heart attack,” you roll your eyes, walking over to give him a quick kiss. “How was the game, Lukey?”

“Oh my god. I have so much to tell you.”

“Yay! I’m gonna finish up the cleaning while you talk, okay?” you give him one last kiss before returning to your task of doing the dishes. In the background, you could hear Luke beginning his story of a crazy penalty that happened halfway through the first period. His favorite thing to do was talk. You weren’t sure why he likes to talk so much or how he always has so much to say, but it’s become sort of comforting to you. Instead of having some random song or podcast playing while you did something, you could have your boyfriend telling you everything about nothing. You suppose it’s so comforting because you enjoy hearing his voice, and it’s a nice reminder of the fact that he’s with you, even if you’re just talking on the phone while he’s on a roadie. Either way, no one will ever hear you complaining about your boyfriend’s talking habits.

Luke, on the other hand, knows exactly why he loves to talk so much. He enjoys talking in general, but when he talks to you, it’s just as comforting for him as it is for you. It’s a way for him to decompress after a long day, lay everything out, and get it off his chest. Then, he never has to think about it again. His favorite part of his day is talking to you, so he’s going to soak it up every chance he gets. Also, Luke is aware that he’s a clingy boyfriend. He’s not scared to admit that. Talking your ear off is just another way for him to feel close to you. It especially helps when he’s gone on roadies and can’t see you face-to-face.

By the time you finish cleaning your apartment, Luke is on story number five. This one happened an hour or two before the game while the boys were messing around in the hallways, something about Luke almost getting taken out by a soccer ball while he was doing his pre-game run. You’re almost finished folding your last load of laundry when Luke starts whining behind you.

“Baby, when are you gonna be done? You’ve been cleaning for hours,” he drags out half the words in the sentence.

“Luke, you’ve only been here one hour? Just let me finish this then I’ll come sit with you, okay?”

“Whatever,” there’s no real bite to his tone, and you know he’s just being dramatic. You finish up the last bit of your cleaning about twenty minutes later, not without some more whining on Luke’s end. Soon, you’re lying down on the couch, watching as Luke makes himself comfortable on top of you. He grunts a little bit when you don’t move, and you know that’s his way of asking you to run your fingers through his hair.

He lets out a big sigh before starting again, “So anyway…” You aren’t sure exactly how long you lay there with him, listening to him talk while you played with his hair. Soon, though, the sun has set, and you’re attempting to hold back yawns. “So Curtis decided to- oh? Are you sleepy, baby? We can go to bed.”

“Yeah, let's go to bed, hun,” the two of you make your way to your bedroom, immediately lying down and getting comfortable. Luke talked the whole way there. As you’re getting comfortable, you catch a glimpse of the time on your alarm clock. “Luke, baby, it’s after midnight… can you maybe finish your story in the morning?”

“Yeah… yeah, babe, don’t worry about it. Just don’t be mad when I forget important details,” he mumbles the last sentence before letting go of you and rolling over so that his back is facing you.

“Luke. Don’t pout. I’m just sleepy, okay?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not pouting,” you can feel him rolling his eyes even though you can’t see his face. “I’m just saying. You know I don’t remember stuff well after I’ve slept on it. All those important details will probably be gone from my mind. Oh well.” You sigh, deciding to let him pout in favor of getting some sleep. A few minutes later, he speaks up again, “Ya know, I thought you liked hearing me talk.” After getting no response, he tries again, “Dad always told me I’d never find a wife if I didn’t learn how to shut up sometimes. I guess he was right,” he let out a big sigh in between the two sentences. It goes on for you don’t even know how long after that.

“Jack and Quinn used to never let me talk. I’m starting to think you’re just like them.”

“I thought I was dating my best friend. Turns out you actually hate me.”

“There was a really funny part too. I guess you don’t want me to do my favorite thing. Make you laugh. I love your laugh, but you obviously don’t care.”

“I guess I just love you more than you love me. I would do anything for you, baby, even ruin my sleep schedule. Unlike some people.”

“I would never name names but some people like to tell me they love to hear me talk but they really only mean they like it when it’s convenient for them.”

That’s when the fake waterworks set in. Luke is a horrible fake cryer, but that doesn’t stop him. He’s slapping his hand over his mouth, shaking his shoulders, letting out the most unbelievable “boo hoo” you’ve ever heard. When he sees it’s not working, he changes his tactic again.

“Aren’t you gonna apologize? You made me cry!”

“It’s 2:00 AM, and you made me cry. Are you happy with yourself? This is the kind of relationship you want? The kind of relationship where I have to cry myself to sleep?”

“I bet if we got into an argument right now, you wouldn’t even let me plead my case. Because then I would be talking, and apparently, you don’t like that anymore.”

At this point, you know you’re not sleeping any time soon, so you let yourself answer, “Luke, you’ve been talking for the past six hours.”

He’s quick with his reply, “See! I just can’t do anything right.”

“Ya know, you always call me your baby, but is this what you would do to a baby? Let them cry themselves to sleep?”

“Yeah, Luke, it’s called self-soothing. It’s actually a really common soothing method these days.”

“Torture method, more like. Poor kids. Is this what you’re gonna do to our kids? Tell them to shut up because you aren’t in the mood for them to express their thoughts and feelings?”

“Luke, we’re both freshly twenty-one, and we aren’t having kids any time soon?”

“Oh so now you don’t see a future with me? I guess I should return the ring in my sock drawer then, huh?”

“You have a ring?” you nearly shout, shocked at his revelation.

“Nah, I just wanted you to feel bad.” You quiet down after that, relieved that you won’t have to turn him down because you’re not ready, not that he isn’t the one you want to marry. He very much is, just not right this second. The exhaustion is setting in, so you don’t say much for a while. Apparently, that makes Luke really nervous. “I’m so sorry, baby. You know I was just playing, right? I’ll buy you a ring one day. I’ll do all the research. I’ll even stalk your Pinterest if I have to. I’ll buy you the perfect ring. Then I’ll give you the perfect wedding. Then we can have the perfect kids… Do you hate me now?” You can hear how sad he is, knowing he’s probably tired, and it’s probably heightening his emotions and dramatics.

“I don’t hate you, Lukey. I could never. I’m just sleepy, baby. I need to sleep, and I think you do too. Besides, I don’t wanna get married right now anyway.”

“Oh, so you don’t wanna marry me?” it was his turn to almost shout, his dramatic side getting the better of him in his sleepy state.

Eventually, you manage to wrangle him into laying his head on your chest so you can softly drag your fingers through his curls just the way he likes. Soon, it gets him asleep, just like you knew it would. Finally, you’re able to get some much-needed sleep as well. The next morning you hear it from Luke. He won’t shut up about how he has to finish his story but can’t remember half of it because you made him sleep. He loves to get on your nerves, but you wouldn’t trade a single moment with your favorite drama queen.

taglist: @heartsforjh @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude @one-sweet-gubler

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h0llyw0lly · 14 hours ago

Text

Goooooooood MORNING, all! As usual, I have thoughts lol.

I need to talk to someone about the Cinderella Boy season finale or I’m gonna explode, but none of my friends read it despite my insistence so I’m throwing this into the void that is tumblr.

CB season 1 finale spoilers under the cut (just in case y’all haven’t read it yet, in which case you really should)

Also, to my mutuals and followers who DON’T read it, don’t WANT to read it, or followed me for other stuff: I do not apologize for the constant stream of Cinderella Boy content, nor is it likely to change anytime soon (◡‿◡✿) <3

THE FINALE, RIGHT? Okay. Okay. I have so many thoughts, but my biggest one that I haven’t seen ANYONE comment on is a little detail regarding the kiss. THE KISS HOT DANG.

Sorry, okay. Throughout the series, Chase has had to play the role of the heroine and has had SO MANY princes trying to make out with him, and he has always had a HUGE thing about consent. Yelling at them when they ignored his refusals, slapping and punching when words didn’t work, and even leaving the stories early because he didn’t want to do something he was uncomfortable with.

Buddy knows this, and has even helped him reinforce this (see the Honor Among Thieves storyline when he BEATS A MAN WITH HIS PRISONER CHAINS FOR IGNORING CHASE, gosh I love that scene lmaooo).

So the KISS???? I’M OVER THE MOON, AND I’LL SHOW YOU WHY!!!!

BUDDY! ASKS! PERMISSION!!! While not explicitly asking a question aloud, his expression in the second photo is inquiring—saying “is it alright if I do what’s supposed to happen in the story? I want to help you, can I do that?” And he DOESN’T PROCEED ANY FURTHER UNTIL CHASE SAYS

Only then does he begin leaning towards Chase!!

Only then does he kiss him, even though he knows it’s their last hope and it could literally save Chases’s life!!!

Like….just, ugh. THAT is how you write consent: just a questioning gaze and a simple affirmation. Punko’s the best, y’all.

Also, Chase, I see that arm, mister.

#cinderella boy #cinderella boy webtoon #cinderella boy punko #stargoth #chase x buddy #I’ve been sitting on this for a while just waiting to see if anyone else would comment on it but no one has #so I’m TAKING UP THE MANTLE #<3 #I’m looking forward to next season #if only to watch Chase act like a lovestruck doofus lmao #though I’m worried Buddy may try to avoid him cuz Guilt but…idk #Chase is pretty good at wheedling himself into people’s hearts lol

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 7 hours ago

Note

(Kind of want Lilith/Lucifer/Adam)

Au Idea that when Adam was made, he was just to be the prototype. To see if they could actually make something like him to begin with. Lucifer didn't even know about him. Adam wasn't made to be anything special. Almost like a default skin. Plain to look at. Accept for his eyes, a brilliant gold, nothing else stood out.

They cheered at their creation but decided Adam had played his part and stuffed him in a remote part of the Garden where they could forget all about him. Adam didn't know how to do anything. He didn't even know how to talk and then the strange beings grabbed him and left him alone in some small part of the Garden he couldn't leave. Maybe the beings would come back. Maybe they wouldn't. Adam was made to be Subservient to anyone, the Angels wanted something that could worship them, but being alone made him stagnate.

Then Steve and Lilith were made. Steve, a more dominant and controlling person made Lilith's life miserable and she wanted out. Why couldn't she be in charge? Why did she always have to spread her legs for this man who always seemed to push her down, ignore her ideas, and slap her around if she said no?

Lucifer tried to get Steve to see reason but he hated the fact that Lucifer so easily charmed Lilith when he couldn't. Why was that dumb angel so special? Steve was perfect. Lilith should listen to him and only him. If she won't do it willingly, then he'll make her.

One day, while Lucifer was busy with his jobs, Lilith ran away to hide from Steve who once again trying to procreate with her. Disgusted, she kicked him in the groin and ran as fast as possible away from him. While running, she came across and enclosed part of the Garden she had never been in before. Tall trees stood close together, almost like a wall with how they were tangled with each other, and, curious, climbed them to see what was on the other side.

Adam was watching a snail in fascination when he heard rustling from above him. He didn't pay any attention to it because he had no idea what the concept of danger was. Lilith grunted but finally climbed to the top to peer down. She nearly fell out of the tree in shock. Another human. Another human.

She and Steve were not the only ones here in the Garden.

OOOOU!!!

Lilith thought that it was only her and that...... Brute they call her husband. But this, guy? He looks like a man, he doesn't have the body type that she does so another man?

Hopefully better than Steve.

She got down and walked over, gently placing her hand on his shoulder once she was close enough.

Lilith: Excuse me?

Adam jumped at the contact and voice, he looked at this lady, she was beautiful with long blonde hair and violet eyes that shimmered like amuthst. Who was she? He wasn't alone?

Lilith gasped when she saw his eyes, they were so bright they put the sun to shame.

Lilith: My name is Lilith, who are you?

Adam titled his head to the side, he knew his name but he didn't know how to tell her. How was she making those sounds?

She saw the confused look on his face and sighed, he probably didn't know how to talk. This could be a problem.

Lilith: You can't talk..... That's okay, maybe Luci can help with that when he comes down.

Adam was confused, who was this Luci?

Hours passed and Lilith stayed with Adam, she talked to him just to fill the silence and they watched the snails together.

The familiar flap of wings got her attention and she went to get him.

Lilith: Luci! Over here! I have something incredible to show you!

Lucifer smiled, he wondered what it could be. New plant maybe? Though, he wasn't accustomed to this part of the garden.

Lucifer: What is it Lily?

He went over and that's when he saw Adam.

Lilith: I found him here all alone, why would he be here? Why wouldn't they have him in the rest of the garden? Why can't he talk?

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x adam #adam x lucifer x lilith #ask

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thefrontmanscockwarmer · 2 days ago

Text

Easier

Player 001 x reader [Fluff]

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

“Gi-Hun” you groaned as he took your bottle of water, holding it above your head.

“Come on, just grab it” he chuckled. “Or are you too short?” He faked the pensive thought before smiling again.

“Big brother” you drawled. “When I get out of here, I swear, I’m kicking your ass.” You say, putting your hands on your hips.

“Well, if we play one more game, you might end up dumber than you already are.” He chuckled, poking your ribs.

“No stupider than you” you stuck your tongue out. Gi-hun was your older brother, you honestly hadn’t spoken to him in a while, since you went off to university. He was still annoying.

“Well, dummy, you ended up here due to your poor money choices” he countered. The grim scenario now a joke as you fought. Young il, coming up behind you, reaching over your head for that bottle.

“Thanks Young-“ you reached for it before he threw it up to Gi-Hun engaging you in a game of Monkey in the Middle. “Come on guys!” You pouted.

“What, bunny? You gonna cry?” Young il teased.

“No, stupid head.” You spit back.

“Me? A stupid head? No way” he poked you as you reached for your water bottle, jumping as high as you could but not being able to reach.

“Hey, look at that stupid girl!” The purple haired guy snickered from behind you with his idiot friend. “Can’t even reach her water bottle” he walked closer to you.

“Leave me alone moron” you say before turning back to Gi-Hun for your water bottle. Thanos grabbed your arm, spinning you around.

“What did you say? Bitch?” He asked, his breath dusting your face. You cringed.

“I called you a moron.” You say as you reach for your nose. “Also, your breath smells so awful, back up like, 10 feet so i can actually breathe” you say, sass lacing your voice. He cocked his arm back, Gi-Hun and Young il stepping to be in front of you. You stuck your tongue out at Thanos from behind the two men in front of him.

“What’s up, freaks?” Thanos laughs as the two men looked at him with stoic expressions.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Putting your hands on her like that” Gi-hun asks.

“I’m just messing with her” he tries to play off.

“Didn’t look like playing to me” Young il says calmly.

“Well- i just- i mean “ Thanos stuttered over his words.

“Let me make this easy for you, since you seem to not have a brain” Gi-Hun begins. “If you put your hands on her again`, i swear, you’ll have a worse punishment than being shot” Gi-Hun threatened in a low voice. Before anyone had a chance to say another word, Young il punched him in the face.

“Get the fuck out of here” Young il shouted heatedly, kicking him in the stomach making him fall.

“Yeah get the fuck out” Gi-Hun pointed past him as he scooted backwards before standing and running off. You ran to the aid of Young il, grabbing his hand and inspecting it.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? How’s your hand?” You ask rapidly. You ripped off your jacket, wrapping it around his fist. He smiled softly. He removed it, handing your jacket back to you.

“Yes, I’m okay. No, I’m not hurt” he chuckles lightly at your pressing concern.

“(Y/n), you know he’s a grown man right-“ you slapped Gi-Huns chest shutting him up.

“I didn’t see you punch him, Big brother” you rolled your eyes. You led Young il back to your bed.

You guys were beginning to barricade your side, predicting that they were going to start a fight in the middle of the night. Without some push back, Young il agreed to let Gi-Hun take the first shift.

“You know, you’re so beautiful (y/n)” Young il said as he brushed hair from your face. You giggled. “Why are you laughing? I’m serious” he gave a smile.

“Because, I dunno, I just like hearing you say my name” you giggled shyly.

“(Y/n), (y/n), (y/n)” he said quickly, tickling you gently making you burst out in laughter. He shushed you gently, laughing himself. “Shhhh, you’re gonna wake people up, and Gi-Huns gonna come over here worrying, and get mad that we’re all cuddled up together.”

“Oh shut up, he’s just my brother.” You say, lightly pushing him.

“I dont knowww” he trailed. “He did tell a guy he’d kill him if he touched you again”

“Well, that only applies to that one guy” you say looking at his lips. “You’re an exception.”

“Oh am i?” He says grinning as he pulled you closer to him. His lips just inches from yours.

“Yeah, you are” you tell him before he gently attached him lips to yours. You smile into the kiss as you feel his hand sneak itself under your shirt and around to your back to rub your it. You copied his motion as you rubbed his chest. He didn’t look fit in that baggy sweat suit, but you were tracing his abs gently. He smiled as your hand laced in his hair as he shifted to get more on top of you. Your light moans as you kissed were setting him on fire. He got off of you.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just… getting excited” he says shyly. You laughed, cupping his face.

“It’s okay, pretty boy.” You say. “ I think it’s supposed to get easier to get excited when you’re kissing a girl you really like.” You kiss him.

“Mmm like?”

“Yeah?” You reply confused.

“I was thinking love” he shrugs.

“Love is perfect.” You cut him off. Kissing him one last time before curling into his chest to sleep. His wrapped his arms around you, sighing with content.

“I love you” he declares aloud.

“I love you” you return.

“Too?” He inquires.

“No, the word ‘too’ means in addition, or also. I love you.” You tell him with a yawn. He opened his mouth making a quiet ‘oh’ motion.

“Well then, love is love. I love you.” He repeated.

“I love you more” you return, grinning. He smiled as he laid down. Letting sleep overcome him.

Tag list

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21

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wakeup01 · 1 day ago

Text

Dronezoned

“As you can see here, the ancient Egyptians once believed that mummification was a form of…” The narrator droned on from the television speaker.

“Sigh.” Rae bemoaned next to you on the couch, with exasperation. “Bud, I hate to say it, but I think I’m demoting you to drone status.” The TV suddenly switches off, half way through the latest episode of ‘Historic World’.

“What….I….why?” You sit up in a panic and glance across at your young friend. You had met him a couple of months back and found him immediately charming, and admittedly, rather cute. But it quickly became clear how high maintenance and demanding the 24 year old could be. A fact that was solidified when he had described his expectations of his friends, and the consequences of letting him down.

He turns towards you momentarily, his piercing eyes affording you a second of their time before he leans back and stretches his arms. “Look, you’re just not great ‘best friend’ material. Weekly episodes of ‘Historic World’ topped with yet another superhero movie? Death would be a more exciting prospect. Face it, you’re kinda boring.” Rae places a hand softly upon your shoulder, as if he was delivering bad news about a family member. “Even Charlie had more going for him, and he liked painting those little models. Now? Now he’s a drone that likes being my big butt’s seat. You understand.” Rae smiled at you warmly, it was a look that scarcely disguised the weight of his words.

“No—please! I can do better. Give me a chance to prove myself. I don’t want to be like the oth—others.” You stammer erratically, recalling the time he proudly showed you his previous bff ‘rejects’. Imagining the same thing happening to you causes you to shudder.

“See, this is what I’m talking about. ‘Give me a chance to prove myself’. Wah wah. Dull as dishwater dude. I gave you a shot and it just doesn’t work.” Rae explains with fake resignation, slowly getting to his feet. “Oh well, let’s get this over with then.”

“Just wait. Bud—we can work this-“

*snap*

Your pleas immediately screech to a holt, like slamming the brakes at a red light. His snapping fingers inexplicably steal your undivided attention. Your eyes going crosseyed at his outstretched hand.

“Engage. Stand up.” You go to laugh, but your legs involuntarily lift you from the couch. “Good. Face towards me.”

“R—Rae! What’s ha—happening? Why am—“

“Talking mode off.” Your mouth snaps shut the second the words leave his lips. “Dude. I kinda thought this might be the case. I had you chipped about a month back. You know, when you thought you got stung by a bee. God, you were annoying then too.”You wriggle slightly on the spot as he openly chastises your apparent ‘inadequacies’. “Makes this whole tedious ordeal much easier. Now, come on, be a good drone and take those clothes off before we both die from sheer boredom.”

You tell yourself you will absolutely not strip in front of your attractive friend. What you tell yourself and what your body does, however, is a different matter. Your hands feverishly remove every item of clothing as if you were on fire.

“I’ve never seen you move with such excitement before. Sure you’re not into this already? Your dick is hard bud, how humiliating.” You blush as you feel cold air brush against your nethers. “Hm? Maybe you want to be my ddf, my dumb drone forever? Hehe.” He teases while trying to hold back a wide grin.

He walks up to your frozen body and snaps a metal ring like device around your neck. It tightens against your body. “Trust me dude, you’ll be much better like this. More…interesting.” Your eyes follow a shimmering wave of squeaking rubber as it travels down from your neck, passing over your chest and stretching over your groin. Turning everything it touches into smooth plastic. Your dick begins to swell to a unbelievable size, feeling like the most intense erection of your life. Your cock embarrassingly hardens, bounces and slaps against your stomach. You see the flared tip pointing up at you, the sunlight reflecting off its unnatural surface. There was no denying it, it looked like a plastic sex toy. For all intents and purposes, your dick was a huge rubber dildo. Your veins were moulded onto the shape.

The wave travels all the way down to your feet, encasing your toes in the slick substance. Your new shiny skin felt too tight for your body, as if it was being vacuumed sealed. It pushes on you until your physique begins to match the other drones Rae had shown you. Giving you a basic set of abs on a slim frame, and inflating your butt into a firm round bubble. Rae sure had a type…

The rubber slips between your enlarged butt cheeks and invades your entrance. Your insides are coated and ribbed, becoming a slick chute with a clear purpose. Your body instinctively pushes your hips out, making your rear entrance spread out enticingly behind you. The humorous pose - much to your own chagrin, felt comfortable and befitting for your newly uneven body proportions. You were essentially a living fuck doll, inside and out.

Humiliating as it was - standing to attention, with your butt on display at your friend’s whims; you really needed to cum. You’d surrender just about anything right now to blow a load. You needed relief from this aching, pulsing sensation that racked the space between your legs. Teetering on the edge, a single touch would cause you to explode. Hell, a light breeze would probably suffice. The dull throbbing made your groin subtly rut back and forth at the air, trying to find some feedback.

Attempting to keep yourself together, you momentarily shake away the pleasure coming from your dildo. You cringe as you look pleadingly at Rae, praying that he’ll reconsider. Or maybe just let you cum at least…

“No, no this doesn’t work for me. Bleh. Sorry bud, but I’m revoking your facial privileges.”

‘My what’, you think, before the answer quickly presents itself. The sensation was like no other, feeling your lips meld together, ears flattening against your head. And then, then your face effortlessly smoothes over, like a wave washing over it, blurring all the details as your features fade into the rubber. The hair on your scalp slips free and falls to the carpet like a wig. Your face had been left completely blank, like a mannequin.

“Go on, feel it. It’s amazing.”

On request, your fingers run across your face. Your plasticised skin is incredibly sensitive. Senses had seemingly been enhanced. Every touch sends a jolt to your oversized dick. You desperately try and find your mouth, your nose….your eyes. But it’s like stroking the surface of a rubber ball. You had been stripped of your identity! A burst of anxiety overwhelms you, but at the same time, a weird sense of contentment. Your face, it was, it was gone. Blank. Anonymous. Smooth. Smooth. So unbelievably smooth. It felt….nice.

“Let’s see…you look the part. Now lets demote that whole ‘friendship’ status. I think you’re ready to be wiped. That ‘blah’ personality needs to go. Say goodbye ‘bud’. Drone. Purge.”

For a millisecond you wonder what he means and then your back stiffens like a plank, the most intense pleasure shoots up your groin and is expelled out of your rubberised dildo dick.

PURGE.

You climax on command. Cum splashes across your sleek chest and showers around you. Your mind is drowned in a fuzzy haze of pure horniness, one that shows no sign of clearing. A whirlpool swirls in your head, washing away the thoughts caught in its pull. No post nut clarity greets you as you lose yourself to the emptiness. Quite literally lose yourself, your identity and everything you ever held true squirted out of your dildo. Your dull, barely noteworthy personality dribbling down onto the floor into an embarrassingly small pool.

P U R G E.

You attempt to think, to think of anything. To bring forth a single concept, an idea. But it’s all for naught. There is *nothing* to think about. Not a single idea left in your brainwashed head. Quite literally washed, washed clean. Your mind is stuffed with pure nothingness, thoughtlessness, an overwhelming absence that fills you to your core and becomes everything you are and ever will be. You are no longer a person, an ‘It’. A thing. A husk. ‘You’ are gone.

YOU ARE PURGED.

YOU ARE DRONE.

IT IS ACTIVATED.

“Drone wiped.” A monotone voice announces. Yours? It sounded like it was coming out of a small speaker. After all, drones don’t have mouths. “Relationship demotion complete. Drone status achieved.”

“Geez. About time…” your fr—master groans, rolling his eyes.

The concept of ‘friend’ was now unknown to you, friendship was something between two equals. You were not equal. A single word takes precedent over your mind. OWNER. He was your owner. A master of charm and taste. He was perfect in every conceivable way. Every facet of his being was mesmerising. You were awestruck to even share the same space as him. He was everything. And you were just his simple drone.

“Yeah, this suits you much better. What’s your new designation, drone?”

“Drone AS032. Sir.”

“Yeaaaaaahhh. I’m not gonna remember all that. I guess I could write it down, but eh. Why bother? I gave up on distinguishing my individual drones a while back. There’s just too many at this point. You’ll all identical anyway.” He shrugs apathetically.

“Of course S—Sir” You reply, stuttering slightly. Was that really all you were? All you were…to him? Surely you were better than all the others. You feel a sudden swell of concern hit you, something felt wrong.

“Oh. Still resisting there? Impressive, but I know a little trick that’ll help. Wanna see?” Rae steps forward and then reaches down to your groin. With a loud *pop* he removes your ridiculous looking cock. Simultaneously, you feel a similar pop in your head, like a radical change in air pressure. It felt amazing, a permanent sensation of being high. Floating like a balloon in the sky, filled with nothing but air. Your doubts dissipate faster than they appeared. Of course you were just a simple toy, how could you think otherwise? Just look at your cock. It was unmistakably a dildo. Your cartoonishly large balls were fused to the base, looking full. You could feel them in his hand, his fingers brushing over the hardened surface. Every touch was a lesson in frustration; feeling on the cusp of relief but the possibility being completely denied. Without the phallic protrusion, your groin was just smooth shiny plastic with an unremarkable bump.

“Cock toy detached.” You announce redundantly, while Rai marvels at your enlarged plastic rod. He places it down beside the couch, the tip pointing straight up as it sits on the flat base.

“See, that’s better. Drone. Activate service mode.” A pleasant tingle converges on your head, filling it with an intense desire of subservience. To submit without question. “Loosen rear entry. Hm, you’re so much more interesting like this. Don’t you agree Drone?”

“Yes sir. It exists to serve.” You obey, pulling apart your cheeks with your hands as your ribbed pleasure hole automatically stretches wide.

“Whatever. I just need to fuck you and then we’re done.” Rae remarks coldly, removing his clothes. The sight of his bare muscled chest is only a reminder of his superiority, you couldn’t help but feel amazed in its presence. That was doubly true when all 8 inches of his glorious dick rose into view. Unlike your own, his was demonstrably *real*; something you would soon have proven to you firsthand.

“Yes sir.” You repeat. Betraying no hint of personality. Incapable of saying anything else. Your body leans forward slightly while master Rae’s hands roughly grip your sides. Whatever small part of your old self that might remain is about to be fucked, fucked throughly out of existence. That little voice - no longer in control, would have to sit and watch themselves be initiated into their new role as a glorified sex doll.

“Darn. I always forget something.” Master bends you further over, and then subsequently pushes something cold against your hips. “A drone isn’t complete without fuck handles. You know, for when you get FUCKED.” You don’t see them, but you can feel a set of pliable rubber bars fuse to your body. His fingers then wrap around them, positioning you like you were a mere toy. The anticipation was palpable.

And then it just happens. Without a word, Rae dispassionately fucks you from behind. His thick cock easily sliding back and forth without resistance. Only the plapping of your plastic rear echoes in the room. He uses you in the same way one would use a fleshlight. That was basically what you were after all. With a lone grunt, master unceremoniously cums inside you, his seed filling up your rear cavity. He hastily pulls out and lets his juice slowly slide out from between your huge round cheeks. You continue to just stand there, joyously being debased as you feel your hole become frustratingly empty. Empty like your head.

“Well done, drone. Here’s a reward.” The compliment lit your tiny world alight with satisfaction.

With a sudden jolt, Master Rae kindly pushes your own dildo cock into your rear, your balls resting against your smooth parted cheeks. You could feel it nestled inside of you, as if you were fucking yourself. It was - to put it simply, an odd sensation. Your body couldn’t help but rock slightly back and forth, pushing your rear outward before clenching around your shaft. The slightest of movements brought about unbelievable pleasure to your hardened rod, but there was still no sign of relief. It did, however, make sure to keep you appropriately docile. You desperately needed to be given instructions.

“It exists to serve.” You admit once again with complete submission to your flawless

owner. He had successfully claimed you as his own. Standing with your legs together and your cock throbbing inside your ass.

“Sigh. I guess. Drone…footstool mode.” Rae utters with pure indifference as he sits back down on the couch, turning the television on again. “At least now you have some use.”

“And that’s how they became what pop culture commonly refers to them as…” The shows flat narrator continues before the channel quickly switches, being replaced by the sounds of a loud action scene and gunfire bouncing around the room.

“Yes sir.” You fall to your knees in front of him as he leans back in his seat. Your dildo is lodged further up your hole. His legs lift and rest his big feet on your nulled face. Even without a physical nose you can still smell his sweaty boy soles. You were proud he deemed you worthy of such a honour. The scent makes your dildo cock rhythmically pulse inside you. Your body locks into position, seizing up like a statue. Your arms lifting up to hold his legs in place. He turns the television up and completely disregards your existence below him as he taints you with his foot stench. You were just happy to be of use to your master. To worship him like a god. You would stay here for eternity if he asked you to. Not that you would have a choice anyway.

….

“Oh crap, look at the time. It’s been half an hour already.” Rae sits up, shoving his ripe toes over your head. “Damn. You know where the other drones are kept right? I’m sure there’s space in there for one more mindless, obedient, pathetic reject drone. And hurry up. I’ve got a new best friend candidate coming by and you already stink of feet dude.”

“Yes sir.” You obey, without a hint of hesitation.

“Oh - before I forget, engage mute mode.” He quickly adds, loudly pulling open a bag of chips. As instructed, you say nothing in response. Instead you quietly get up from the ground and begin to move towards a familiar door, a door that just an hour ago would have filled you with dread. Now though, you open it without concern, delivering yourself to your new storage space, walking down the stairs into the dim basement. Every step caused your hips to sway, squeezing your hole around the plastic cock filling your insides. The scent of master Rae still wafts around your face. You hear the sounds of masters other playthings shuffling around in the dark as you join your place amongst them, feeling their smooth blank bodies brush against yours. The crowded room sits in silence, patiently waiting to be of service again. Or until the next boring friend is deservedly added to the group.

After all, he was right - you’re far more interesting like this. Like a dutiful piece of furniture. An object he would - on rare occasions, use to rest his sweaty feet upon or, if you’re lucky, to empty his hefty balls inside of. That was the purpose he deemed fitting for you. That personality you had just got in the way, not that you had much of one to start with. Even still, Master Rae had been very kind to fix that. Purging your boring identity to leave beautifully pristine nothing in its wake.

You feel your own cock shudder inside your gaping rear as you wistfully think of your new owner. At him successfully demoting you to drone status. A sensation obviously shared by the rest of his drones, as they vibrate all around you in bliss - indulging in the joy of sheer emptiness.

#transformation #brainwashing #dumbing down #feet #gay #drone tf #drone

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shoopsthereitis · 3 days ago

Text

jegulus | 1.3k | hockey player x figure skater |

Regulus walks into the rink, skates in hand, bag slung over his shoulder ready to practice. Finals are fast approaching, and he needs to perfect a few of his more difficult moves. It’s late, and he knows the rink is usually empty at this hour, especially since the hockey team doesn’t practice on Tuesdays.

He’s looking forward to the quiet solitude, the chance to focus without distractions. But as he steps inside, the unmistakable sound of skates gliding over ice and the sharp slap of a puck hits his ears. Regulus groans internally, rolling his eyes as he approaches, less than excited to see who he’s going to have to kick off the ice tonight.

Potter.

He should have fucking known. Dropping his bag with a loud thud Regulus walks to the edge of the rink, eyes trained on the familiar body gliding around the ice. James skates like the ice is a natural extension of his body. Effortless, smooth, and fast. He’s bloody fit, and Regulus absolutely hates him for it. Hates how easy he makes it look, how James glides in perfect circles, tracking the puck with precision, then seamlessly sending it into the goal.

Regulus has despised hockey players his entire life. Always fighting for ice time, even back when he was a teenager in his hometown. He thought things might be different at University, but it turns out hockey players are just as insufferable here as they were back home. And James? He’s the worst. Because he’s nice. Regulus can’t stand how genuinely kind James is, as if being captain of the University hockey team somehow makes his niceness even more unbearable. But Regulus isn’t buying it. Refuses to buy it no matter how many interactions he and James have proving otherwise. He’s not sure how someone could be so consistently kind, especially someone with so much power and ego wrapped up in their position.

“Oi! Potter!” Regulus calls from the side of the ice. James whips his head, hazel eyes piercing directly into Regulus’ as a sly smile fits his face. He skates over nonchalantly, coming right up to where Regulus stands, only the boards between them.

“Black, what are you doing here?” James takes off his gloves and helmet.

“Well, I came to practice, seeing as there’s a competition coming up and there’s usually no one here this late. Why am I not surprised to run into you though? You always seem to just be here whenever I don’t want you around. Which, now that I think of it, is always. Like a gnat.”

James grins, “Well, I have a big game this weekend, so I wanted to practice a few drills on my own. Plus, it’s not like we signed up for the ice, so it really is free reign, you know?” He says, leaning against the boards and into Regulus’ space.

“Okay, but I need the ice now. You’ve had your time, now go.” Regulus waves his hand out in a shooing motion and James responds by laughing. Laughing.

Instantly the heat of annoyance extends through Regulus’ entire body.

“I’ve got an idea,” James says with a grin. “What if we shared? I take one half, and you take the other?”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Over my dead body am I sharing the ice with you.”

“Well, write me an obituary then, because I’m not leaving. I have every right to be here, same as you.”

Regulus huffs. “I need the whole rink to practice, Potter. I can’t get enough speed without it.”

“No, you don’t, Regulus. You just don’t want to share it with me. Either split it down the middle, or you can leave. I was here first.”

James turns and skates off, leaving Regulus to make up his mind. With a frustrated sigh, Regulus resigns himself to sharing the ice, knowing deep down he really does need the practice.

He can ignore James.

He can.

Regulus groans as he sits down to lace up his skates. Almost all of his annoyance fades the second he hits the ice, the smooth glide calming him as he begins to meticulously practice his routine on his half of the rink.

But he can feel James’ eyes on him, the weight of his gaze following every move. Despite his focus, Regulus can't shake the sense of being watched as he skates, jumps, and spins. He tries to shake the feeling of James’ eyes as he gears up for the move he needs to practice the most: his hydroblade. He starts skating, slowly bending his leg and sinking closer to the ground until the ice is underneath his fingertips. A smile pulls at his lips as he nails the move, intensely focused. As he stands back up, slowing down to a stop, he can't help but let out an excited yelp.

The sound of clapping rings in the air and he turns to see James standing and cheering him on. Regulus attempts to roll his eyes, but the smile pulling at his lips betrays him. Skating over to where James is, he sends him a pointed look.

“Are you really cheering for me right now?” His voice comes out like honey, which is unintended, but with a bitter edge to it.

“Well, yeah, of course! That was amazing! You look incredible on the ice, you know. Angelic almost.”

They’re only a few inches apart, and Regulus hates the way his cheeks heat at the compliment and his breath hitches when James closes in on him.

“You okay, Black?” James says with a self-satisfied smirk.

“M’fine,” Regulus chokes out, his voice faltering as James skates another inch closer.

“Am I making you nervous?” James asks, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips as he leans in a little closer.

“No, you could never make me nervous.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” James teases, his grin widening. “You seem a little tense right now.”

Unfortunately, they’ve been here before. As nice as James is, he does also have that cocky side to him. The one that reminds Regulus how he’s made it so far in this sport, how he has his entire team wrapped around his finger. And that’s what makes this game between them so fun.

Regulus musters up whatever strength he has in him to push back. Closing in another inch too, the space between them is almost nonexistent now.

“Are you sure I’m the only one who’s nervous?” Regulus asks with a tilt of his head.

James’ pupils blow wide, and Regulus tracks the way his Adam's apple bobs, eyes flicking down briefly to Regulus’ lips.

Their breath mingles in the close space between them, and Regulus can practically hear his own heart pounding in his ears. He never knows which one of them will break first, but it’s inevitable that one of them will. Whether it’s locker rooms, parties, or empty classrooms, somehow he and James always find each other.

Regulus hates it. But he also loves it. Craves it. The bickering, the teasing, the push and pull—it’s a game they can’t seem to quit. And Regulus honestly isn’t sure which one of them is winning anymore.

However, when James leans in, his lips brushing the spot behind Regulus’ ear—the one that drives them both crazy—He decides he doesn’t even care anymore. Not when James is this close to him, the smell of his sweat filling Regulus’ senses, and the thought of his skin being within reach makes it all the more intense.

“Get in the penalty box, James,” Regulus whispers, savoring the low rumble that escapes from him.

“So it’s James now?” There’s a glimmer in his eye, one that pisses Regulus off. “I had a feeling we’d end up here,” James says confidently, his hand wrapping around Regulus’ as they skate toward the box. “We always do.”

“Fuck you, James,” Regulus mutters, giving James a gentle shove into the box.

“Oh, I intend to, sweetheart. A nice reward for nailing that trick.”

Regulus tries to stifle the sound caught in his throat, but it slips out anyway as James pulls him into a kiss, and he melts into it. Just like he always does.

Thank god no one ever shows up to the rink this late.

#sorry for bombarding you again #microsar #jegulus bingo 2024 #jegulus microfic #jegulus #regulus black #james potter #marauders #they're so silly 2 me #starchaser #james x regulus #marauders microfic #sar writes #oneshot

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undercvrfan444 · 2 hours ago

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“Yeah he loves me but he fucks me like he hates me guts!”

Based off of this! https://x.com/entirepornvids/status/1877827274822525189?s=46

Description! - Gojo can’t stand you! He’s always found you annoyingly attractive and can’t stand to see you prance around Jiujitsu High’s halls in your skimpy teaching outfit!

Satoru Gojo was never one to be quiet. He was unapologetically loud and arrogant no matter who he was around.

So the day you met him it baffled you when he refused to speak more than a few words to you. Even then when he spoke the words were so hateful it had your head spinning.

Throughout your entire time at Jiujitsu High you had heard of the strongest, so now that you returned to work there after attending school it was just expected you’d meet Gojo. Afterall, you had to work with him. When you’d been assigned a few kids to teach you were ecstatic! Finally you’d be able to get hands on with the future of the jiujitsu world and unfortunately you had to share it was some hard ass.

Your three students, Yuji Itadori, Nobara Kugisaki, and Megumi Fushigoro were definitely polar opposites that just happened to meld well together. A discombobulation of personalities in which a family was formed, however Gojo always seemed to leave you out of that so called family dynamic.

“I don’t understand what his problem is with you teach, he’s always nice to us.” Itadori sat across from you while the other two students sat on your side eating lunch. A soft sigh made its way through your glossed lip, feeling the smooth sensation always seemed to offer some comfort. “Honestly Yuji…I don’t know either.” Instead of dogging on Gojo though, you change the subject. A sweet smile is all you can offer the 3 signaling you don’t really have the room to reprimand higher authority.

Nobara on the other hand can’t let an old dog sleep. “Anytime I see you and him together you’re always respectful, like more so than I feel you should be. When you leave or go off to do something he’s completely opposite around us!” Her words were entirely meant innocently but they made you feel like shit.

Did you accidentally insult his clan without realizing it? What exactly was so vile about you that the world’s biggest big mouth is tight lipped around you?

“I’m not sure you guys should be talking about Gojo like this, what if he were here?”

The moment the words come out of your mouth it’s as though the air chilled. Three pairs of eyes leave your frame and look up behind you, Nobara smiles wide at you, giggling and wiling her mouth with a napkin. “Speak of the devil…”

You feel your spine go ridged as you ignore the man behind you, refusing to turn around. He slides next to you on the bench with a big smile on his face. “Who are we gossiping about?” The words are silky smooth, an edge to them that anyone could mistake for a hint of jealousy from being left out.

“You!” Yuji pipes up. “We were talking about why you-“

Before any words can vomit their way from Yuji’s mouth, Nobara slaps a firm hand over his lips. Megumi laughs a little as your eyes widen, scolding the pink haired boy for being such a snitch. The scene unfolding before Gojo makes him frown secrets don’t keep friends you know! He leaned over and pried Nobara’s hand off of Yuji’s mouth but it was no use; the stink eye Megumi and Nobara gave Yuji was enough to turn anyone to stone within seconds.

Overhead a bell rang for classes to begin. Lunch was over fortunately for you despite not eating much from talking.

You stood up from the table as everyone excused themselves to their respective classes. Gojo was surely left more confused now than when he’d walked up to the group discussion.

For the rest of the day, time seemed to slow down and drag on. Minutes felt like hours until finally the students had been released to go home. The sun provided golden rays on the empty desks of your class room. Truthfully this was one of your favorite times of the day because you could finally relax and let your mind run wild without worrying about someone else catching you off in space.

That is until a knock on the door frame of your room pulls you away from your thoughts. Strands of white catch your attention from the corner of your eye.

Swiveling around to face a very obviously annoyed Gojo wasn’t easy. A thick lump forms in your throat at the idea of him ripping you a new one for the things you said earlier.

“Gojo? Can I help you?” Simple, sweet.

Brief seconds pass with him staring at you from his position in the door.

“What were you and the kids talking about earlier?”

The question left your heart leaping from your chest. Saliva seemed to run dry in miliseconds making it hard to answer, your mouth slightly agape as you thought on what to say.

“Nothing, we were only chatting.”

“Don’t lie to me. Yuji hasn’t said anything to me all day which is not at all like him. Megumi keeps giving me sly remarks about shit and Nobara. She won’t stop ignoring me.”

Light pink blush settles on your cheeks thinking of the bunch. It was sweet how they took up for you despite not knowing what the outcome would be.

“If I tell you, promise me not to get mad.”

“Just tell me.”

“Not until you promise!”

A low groan emits from the white haired teacher. His eyebrows furrow before relaxing, a hand coming up to run over his face.

“I…Promise.”

gently sighing, you stand up. The feeling of being lower than him made you queasy.

“We..were talking about why you always..”

“Always..?”

“..you always seem to be so quiet when i’m around. Megumi had asked me if I’ve ever mouthed off to you or if we have previous history because you’re just so cold to me.”

Your words sounded like a kindergartner trying to talk about how they felt. It’s how you truly feel. A deafening silence blankets your two bodies as Gojo stares at you blankly, as if you’d just said the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.

He steps a little closer to your desk. “What are you talking about?”

Hearing his words make your eyes almost bug out of your head. “Are you kidding me!? Ever since I started working with you i’ve never gotten more than a few words out of your lips. In fact, this conversation we’re having right now is the longest i’ve ever held your attention. You seem to shut down and stop talking the second i’m around, it makes me feel like i’ve done something wrong! I respect you so much Gojo and i’ve never understood why you treat me so terribly. You make me feel like you hate me.”

Small quivers overtake your lower lip, pink soft skin getting trapped between your teeth to stop the movements. It was embarrassing to be infront of Gojo crying like a baby. If he didn’t think of you that way before he certainly would now.

The blindfold covering Gojo’s eyes is slipped off silently. The white fabric falling from his softened features and being forgotten on the hardwood of your table.

Tears streamed out of your thick lashes. The idea of being so close to a man you never thought would breathe the same air as you for longer than he had to was nauseating. In a featherlight touch, thick fingers wrap around your face making you look up at him so he could wipe the crystal tears away.

“Stop that.” As if a ghost were touching you instead of the strongest sorcerer known to the world, two light pink lips kiss your eyelids.

The sudden change in attitude hit like whiplash. Gojo surely wasn’t cruel enough for this to be some big joke so why is he treating you like fine china? Could he be getting a laugh out of this deep down? Are there cameras outside ready to bust you out for being so foolish?

“I don’t hate you Y/n. I could never hate you. Forgive me for not being man enough to tell you how I feel before now but, I guess I didn’t know how upset my actions made you.” A few more soft pecks were laid on your face, inching closer to your wet trembling lips.

“Then why are you so distant? It breaks my heart to see you so close with the kids and then turn around to treat me like the redheaded stepchild.”

A loud laugh echoed in your ears at the last part of your sentence. Beautiful pearly white teeth flashing in your eyes.

“A redheaded stepchild?”

Nodding, you sniffle. “This isn’t funny!-“

“It’s a little funny” he retorts.

Anger replaces the once evident hurt. Were your feelings really so insignificant to him that he could find every loose thread in your resolve just to kick you down?

*Slap!*

A sharp echo rang throughout the room. Satoru’s pale skin now had a blooming red mark in the shape of your beautiful manicured hand. “Are you ready to apologize for being such a dick!?”

Quiet steps were all you could hear. Then your classroom door shutting. A lock turning in place. “Shut up.”

In a flash you were up against your desk, back arched so Satoru’s chest slammed into yours. Teeth clashed with teeth as he kissed you rough, unforgiving. Two large hands groped your ass through the skirt you wore it was something Satoru had hated about you. How beautifully your curves fill out the skirt making him want to rip it off and stuff his cock in you.

Strangled moans are drowned in Satoru’s mouth his tongue fighting against yours. “‘Toru, s-slow down!”

Oh how stupid were you? Your pleas fell silent on his ears. Instead his teeth sunk into yours neck, licking over the red teeth marks he left. One of his hands trailed down to rub a finger over the slick cotton panties you had on, arousal sticking to his fingers. “Mm so fucking filthy. Your pussy is begging for me to stuff her full huh?”

Moans fill your classroom. Porn stars had nothing on the sounds coming out of Satoru and you were the ones pulling them out.

“Y-yes, please. Please ‘toru fuck me!” It was embarrassing at just how easy you were! One feel of the strong presence digging into you and you were ready to give it up on your desk.

Not wasting any more time your panties were torn off, left somewhere behind the man below you. “Get on the desk.”

Satoru pushed your legs apart slowly. Antagonizingly slow. A shudder ripped through you at the mix of cold and hot air meeting your pussy. “God, just fucking look at her.” Heat rises to your cheeks when you feel two thick fingers prod your entrance, slowly spreading your folds deliberately apart. “How long have you been waiting for this, hmm?”

Slick arousal drops down every part of your lower body. Satoru’s slips onto the floor with his head squished nicely between your legs. His tongue licked a languid stripe through your cunt before dipping the tip of his tongue inside.

Your fingers race to find stability in silky white strands. “Waiting for me to devour you whole just to abuse this cunt the second I feel you cum on my tongue?” And fuck if the sound of Satoru talking dirty didn’t turn you on even more.

As if the man knew every inch of your body already, he slid his middle finger inside you. pistoning in and out of your sloppy hole until you’re feeling pressure build in your lower tummy. Thank God no one was in the building after hours or else it wouldn’t take a second thought to come check on you with how loud you were mewling and whining.

“s’ t-too much! M’gonna cum..M’gonna cum!” your words were breathy. Saliva had dried in your mouth the second your lips broke away from Satoru’s. Another finger stretched you open and together they curled, feeling the spongy area. “Aww I barely even started!”

Pretty pink lips suctioned over your clit. His fingers curled harder each time earning a high pitched squeal from you. Ever since Satoru had met you he knew this would be the way you ended up. Squirming on his fingers and begging to be fucked.

It was the way you looked at him.

His dick involuntarily got hard anytime you stared up at him with those big eyes. You always seemed to have something on the end of your tongue that just aggravated Satoru! He saw how your thighs pressed together when he was around, and you better believe he saw the way you snuck glances at his clothes dick anytime you could. So really could he blame you for being such a white over his mouth?

One small filck of his tongue on your swollen clit has you shaking on his mouth, hands pulling at those strands so hard you knew it had to hurt. Oh but he wasn’t finished there.

As soon as he pulled away from your pussy you were being flipped on your stomach. Cold hard wood pressed into your lower abdomen while you listened to the sound of a belt buckle clinking off. “Satoru..”

Lowly he hums in your ear, chills spilling through you. “What is it baby? I know my name sounds good but surely you’ve got something more to say.” The fat tip of Satoru’s cock brushes oh so faintly that it has you pushing your hips back to find any friction you could. You knew Satoru would be big but fuck! There’s no way that thing is gonna fit inside you without tearing you open!

“I..I thought you hated me!” You mumble into your arm as you hold yourself up against the desk. You feel the thick throb of Satoru’s cock against your ass, the hard veiny length just waiting for you to swallow it.

Without warning Satoru pushes the length in. A burning sensation engulfing your body, “Oh baby, I love you! But i’m just gonna fuck you like I hate your guts.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #saturo gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk smut #smut #jjk x you #gojo sensei

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treesandwords · 2 years ago

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Sons of the Summer King Excerpt: The Prologue

I submitted this for a writing contest and it didn't even make it to the long list, so I'll put it here instead. The fun begins under the cut vvv

The boy was wrapped in a white death-shroud when he was brought to the castle, cradled in the back of a cart. Jamos Dalion bent low over the body, long fingers carefully uncovering the face, the green-stained hands. The face was not that of one of his own children, but some nameless other’s. A woodworker, a weaver. A farmer, a villager. Sewn into the brown linen of his sleeve was a hill-rowan twig, and at his throat was a strand of dark green ivy. Neither had done him any good. “Forgive me, my lord,” said the grubby man who had brought the body, “but you shouldn’t touch him. Not bare- handed.” He drove the horse and cart, and following was a stream of curious and frightened villagers, not far from the castle gates. The sky was heavy with clouds, brown oak-leaves rattling on their twigs. The moors around cradled the hill and the castle in a dusk-grey sea. “We did as we’re meant to,” said the cart-driver, twisting his own gloved hands. “He’d been good and protected, in the old ways proper. As they always are, when they hunt in there.” “The old ways mean nothing. Not here. Not with this.” Not this time of year. Not when the hunt was more a shrike-like attack. “M’lord, my family – we’re of the old blood, we know the right ways of things. We told the boy what to do, all the right things – “ “Yet still he died. As did others.” It was not a question, but the villager quelled under his lord’s glance. “They did.” A cold wind blew, hissing through the dying heather. A small crowd of children stood behind the lord, most with his red hair and unsmiling face, watching with solemn curiosity. One of the little boys, a lad of eight summers, stared intently at the rowan berries resting against the corpse’s limp hand. He had his own today, in his own sleeve, and on the coldest nights of winter his mother would smudge his cheeks with their juices. Even within the castle’s safe walls. Even if he never dared set foot in the place where the dead boy had gone. Lord Jamos took the man quietly aside, out of earshot. “There was no sign of – him?” “No sign.” There never was. “How many dead?”

“Six. Seven, including the boy.” It was quick, then. Often it took more time than this, for them to show signs – long enough that many thought they had escaped this boy’s fate. And on the barest occasion, perhaps once every ten hunts, one did.

The boy’s eyes were half open, veins in the lids green-tinged. A sickly greenish hue emerged beneath his skin all over, choking his blood. Mage-touched.

He was younger than Jamos’ eldest son. The eyes, where they were not eerily green, had been pale brown. “Burn him in the village, along with the other dead,” the lord commanded. “Give them to the flames, and to the Holly King. They deserve an honourable crossing.” “What of those not yet dead, my lord?” “How close to death are they?” A look exchanged. A knowing one. “Close, my lord. Very close.” “Burn them too.” The cart went away, the dead boy and his protections with it. The lord turned to his family, slowly. Their cheeks were thin. It had been a bad year, and with worse to come. For he was not yet gone. The bringer of green-veined death, of childhood nightmares. In that cold, whispering autumn night the funeral-pyres blazed down in the village, smoke crossing the moors like sea-fog. It swirled into the dales and hollows, brushed the hills with snakelike tendrils.

At the far edge of the moor it halted, at a wall of trees deep with shadow. The Wood. Before the trees lay wreaths of wildflowers, bare twigs twined together in the shapes of folk charms, crossed circles made of rowan wood. The smoke trailed around them, the wind leaving them feebly fluttering. In the darkness between the trees there was no sound, no movement. But the fearful eyes of the nearby village kept watch, as they watched the reeking bonfires all through the long night.

And the children of Dalion remembered; the sons and daughters who sat huddled at the castle windows high above and, too, watched. They never forgot the shadow of the Wood. They never forgot the green veins beneath pallid death-skin, creeping like a poison, like lightning, like summer vines.

Taglist: @kaatiba (ask to be added/removed)

#writing #writeblr #writing community #wip #fantasy wip #fantasy writing #wip: sotsk #sotsk #sons of the summer king #cotmw #my writing #my wips #fantasy writer #formatting ?? who is she???#tumblr why won't you let me put a read more link after a couple lines anymore #why are you making me slap it on the beginning

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unnamed-atlas · 7 months ago

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Finally finished sweet tooth s3. Having incredibly mixed feelings

#love the show. love it a lot. about to be a bitch in the tags anyways #it was. so so messy. they needed another season so bad. the alaska trip took up so much of the comics #and that was with the previously established cast #in the show they introduced a million new characters. gave us no time to get to know them before they were thrown head first into the plot #and condensed an arc that was almost half of the comics into the span of like 5 episodes #my boy singh. oh how they massacred by boy #i mean. okay. in the context of the show the arc wasn't horrible for him.#but i think his survival in the comic and his dedication of his life to making up for the mistakes of his past by helping people and hybrids #would've been so much more powerful than his random self sacrifice at the end of the show.#bc honestly it just seems like another impulsive act in his moral flip flop he'd been having for the last few episodes #rather than active choice to be better #and honestly i wanted to see his delusional paranoid religious breakdown from the comics put to screen so bad #it would've been great #i do like that he turned against zhang the second she started trying to talk about rani. that shit slapped #the several fake outs about Jepp's death were so stupid and unnecessary and repetitive #why are you baiting everyone. you're going to piss off the hardcore comic fans waiting for his death and confuse the show fans #either commit to killing him or stop pretending like you're brave enough to do it #why did they flip back so hard into the mystical vaguely eco fascist backstory and outcome of the comic #after spending two seasons trying to build a more scientific and less 'humanity must end' story for two seasons straight #they tried to make it seem less 'humanity must die' again at the end by ending the virus #which i guess might've been the best outcome available considering the source material and the limitations of it's ending #but idk. it felt weird #the writing this season was so much less subtle. it felt like the characters were constantly monologing directly at the camera #nothing could be left unsaid everyone had to say exactly what they meant #and it was all moral lessons the writers were trying to feed directly to the audience #i feel like they wrote themselves into a corner at the end of the last season #and they expected to have at least one more season to write themselves out of it before the ending #and if not. if this was the plan since the beginning. literally what. WHAT.#can not imagine the people who wrote the last two seasons sitting down and writing this #it won't let me add more tags but i have more thoughts. many more. tumblr is silencing me for speaking the truth /j

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teeskzagain · 2 months ago

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˚‧‿₊୨୧₊You're Such A Brat₊ ˚‧୧₊︵‧ ˚ ₊

» pairing: arrogant!sunghoon x bratty!reader

» summary: since high school, park sunghoon has been the absolute bane of your existence. you’ve always viewed him as a stuck-up snob, and he has always seen you as a whiny brat. you aren’t sure why your mother still thinks of you two as friends, you can hardly stand being in the same room as each other. while at home from college one night, your mother surprises you with news of a work event she and mrs. park will be attending. the catcher? mrs. park’s nightmare of a son is going to be forced to spend the evening at your house…..

» warnings: college au, lots of arguments (both are toxic af), lowkey manipulative on both ends?? t e n s i o n, one scene depicting choking, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP), extremely rough sex, enemies….to…?, lil unserious in the beginning, reader and sunghoon genuinely detest one another (but isn’t that the best😫) mean!dom sunghoon, bratty!sub y/n, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), degrading kink, teasing, heavy/aggressive make-outs, breasts play, masturbation (f. - reader masturbates to fake scenario), humiliation kink, dirty talk, reader used to be affiliated with p.sh, orgasm denial + fingering, ass + pussy slapping, slight mentions of lee heeseung & sim jake...

» w.c: 11.5k (no wonder why it took forever!)

» a/n: would like to apologize for the delay!! but, it's finally here. please let me know if i should do more enha works.

» taglist: @indigoez @jakeswifez @aanniikkaa @slut4hee @heeknow @rairaiblog-blog @no1likeneo @d-dilemma @soobingf-blog @shuaxzcake @mingyuslice @heelovesmeknot @mitmit01 @hpnsfwaddict @jooniesbears-blog @pasteltheghost16 @goodforgyu @sunghoonsbigcoketip

"Why do you have to leave?" With a droopy face, you annoyingly complain- yet again -to your mom about her rude decision of abandoning you.

She rolls eyes- yet again -at your antics and continues to put up the last bits of groceries, "It's a simple work event, Y/N. I'm not sure why you're being so stubborn right now. Plus, you used to love when Sunghoon and his mother came over."

You shudder at the mere mention of his name, "That was before he became such a stuck up fucking prick-"

That line earns yourself a disapproving, 'Y/N!' and in turn you retract your statement with a couple of half-assed, 'sorry, sorry'.

Though, in your head, you knew you held back from saying worse things.

Your mother sighs deeply as she finishes shoving the last few items into the fridge before spinning around to face you, "I'm not asking a lot from you, just entertain the boy or something while we're out. Is that really too difficult?"

She lets her question hang in the air for a second, then proceeds to move from the kitchen to the living room. However, if she thought she could escape you, she would be dead wrong. Because you're not far from her in step.

"Okay, new question." You propose which earns another groan from Mom. You stop in place when she leans over to dust the couch off with her hands, " Since you and Mrs. Park are carpooling to the event, I understand why she's coming here. But does he really have to come too? Why can't he just stay at his own damn-.....d-dang, house?"

When she straightens herself out, she bears a look of plead in hopes that this is truly the last of your inquiries, "His mother is the one who suggested it. And if we're being truthful, you and Sunghoon used to be so......" she pauses, looking for the right word, "....so cute when the two of you were close."

A hand flies to your mouth as you internally gag at your mother's words. Cute? Maybe 10 years ago, when you both were still in elementary. But that was before he had the chance to grow into his unbearably horrid of a personality.

Granted, you partly blamed his high school friend group for his abominable transformation. While, yes, you did agree that Sunghoon just naturally held the asshole gene, you were also certain that hanging around and slinging dicks with stupid Sim Jake and stupid Lee Heeseung, surely wasn't going to help this fact either.

Disgusting pricks. All of them.

You lower your hand slowly, "Please don't remind me of that time."

"For the love of-" She excuses herself from your vicinity and struts back into the kitchen, "Honey, I don't understand how you could be acting like this. I thought once you two went off to university together, things would be different by this point."

Oh. It's different alright.

Instead of the harsher stares he used to simply give in high school, Sunghoon has upgraded his abrasiveness to terrible comments directed towards your character. Any chance possible, the two of you would butt heads even more than your previous encounters. On campus, in passing, at parties; if you saw him anywhere, you just knew something would be said.

On top of that, it also doesn't help that his buffoon bunch of friends followed him to the same college as you. And, you had to see them everywhere.

You figured once you came home, you could enjoy a week of internal peace. Free from the many stressors that come with university. Now, your mother seems to disregard any of your warnings and wants to let the main stressor inside of your house?

"Can I add as well," she speaks up in the absence of your voice- you had been too busy pouting- "I know the two of you share the same English class, and according to his mother, he's been excelling at his papers."

At the insinuation, your mouth drops agape, however, she disregards the reaction and continues on, "You can ask for some pointers from him."

"Absolutely not." There was no way that could've been an option. Firstly, you would never hear the end of it from Sunghoon: ‘Oh, you want help from me? I didn’t realize you were so awful at this,’ and then it probably would’ve been followed up with, ‘Well, I can’t say I’m too surprised. You’re not the…brightest person I’ve met.’

Annoying bastard.

He would never let you live that down, and frankly, you didn't want to give him anymore ammo to shoot you in the face with. Henceforth, that couldn’t be an option. Not if you wanted to keep your sanity.

Your mother regards you intently, and slowly begins to shake her head. She couldn't do it anymore, didn't know what more to say; a wall has clearly been put up and you are as strong as steel, not letting anything through. As she's left puzzled on how to refute your statement, a ping from her phone catches her eye briefly.

She casts her gaze downwards, keeps it there for a few seconds, and then she's looking back up at your contorted face.

"Well, sweetie,” a strained smile begins to spread, “You should probably fix that attitude of yours. They just got here." The doorbell ringing acts as a nail in the coffin, confirming your mother's words.

“You’ve got to be-”

She interrupts your complaining to tell you to get the door, so she can run upstairs and grab her purse. You're quick to bellow out a groan, but she's even quicker to shut that down, and instructs you to do it immediately while half-way up the staircase.

Once she disappears, you amble sluggishly towards the front, and as you're about ready to swing it open; a long, harsh breath is exhaled from the other side followed by a grumble.

"You better be nice to her or I swear Sunghoon...."

It's Mrs. Park, who's voice seemed to have a combination of both sincerity and aggression laced in it. Your eyebrows furrow, listening harder.

"Yeah, yeah. Be nice to the brat, I heard you the first 4 other times." He finishes with his own irritated huff.

Your expression goes wide at that. Is he fucking serious? Did he really just call you a brat? You. A brat? You're mind relishes in disbelief.

"Sunghoon!" His mother responds with, and more indistinct talking arose. However, while their voices grew quieter your annoyed levels skyrocketed. You begin to think that it's quite plausible….someone might die tonight.

"Y/N! Did you grab the door yet?" Your mom yells from her bedroom.

You do a double-take as you match her volume, "I'm doing it right now!"

Unbolting the locks, you pull back the piece of wood to reveal a very eager Mrs. Park, staring at you with smiley eyes. Sweeping your gaze right, there stood the ever straight-faced and stoic Park Sunghoon.

Even as you do a once over at his appearance- black hair fringed on his forehead, hands shoved into his long, sleek coat, and black sweats that barely poke out from underneath -you find it so, incredibly jarring that this came out of the always cheery Mrs. Park.

He didn't even try to smile, unlike you who beamed out a grin towards them, "Hello Mrs. Park! It's been so long since I last seen you.”

Dissimilar to her son, Mrs. Park is ready to envelope you into a warm hug. She extends her arms out and the two of you intertwine in a genuine and comforting embrace.

"Oh! Y/N! It truly has been a while," when she draws back, you watch her scan your face with an affectionate smile, "You just get more and more beautiful every time I see you." At the last second, she peeps over towards her son for encouragement, "Right, Hoonie? Doesn't she look lovely?"

His impassive eyes regard his mother, then ever so leisurely does he drag them onto your stature. The moment eye contact is made, you shift anxiously. Because why the hell is he looking at you like that?

You start to play with the hem of your oversized hoodie, which flowed nicely into your oversized sweatpants. Anyone with eyes could tell you’re not dressed for company. Hair messy from laying around, hardly any make-up on.

Clearly, you weren’t expecting anyone today. Nonetheless, someone who took so much pride in his appearance. You almost felt jealously from it. Like he’s somehow proving the point that he’s better in almost every way- clothing included. It’s infuriating.

With a single look up and down, Sunghoon cocks his head slightly before giving his answer, "No."

Intense bickering between mother and son start up, and you're left standing with a twitching eye of vexation as already you sense your patience running thin. Your fingers curl inwards to form a fist. It hasn’t even been 30 seconds and you feel like punching him.

"I am so sorry about him, Y/N. I don't- I don't know what his problem is..." She stops midway to address another mumble from the boy. The two have a minor quarrel this time, and then she’s back to focusing on you, ".....ah, may we come in?"

It takes your full strength to squeak out an, 'absolutely', despite your innate feelings. With a step back, you widen the door to appear more welcoming and the two of them step inside of your house.

Mrs. Park instantly calls out to your mother, with her shouting back at Mrs. Park, and when it's Sunghoon's turn to walk past, you couldn't help but notice the somewhat aggressive breeze he emits as he pushes through you.

A part of you could’ve sworn you also heard him mutter something in passing, but regardless, you decide to let that go instead of calling him out. Taking in a deep breath and exhaling, you hope to soothe the ever growing nerves that’s been caused so far.

Remember, self-control. Right, that is a thing and you are more than capable of exhibiting it. So, keep your cool. Try not to blow up. At the very least, if not for yourself, then for the sake of both your mother and Mrs. Park.

Yes, for them. You can do this for them. Just simply don’t engage and all will be well.

You repeat this to yourself a few more times as you close the door. All will be well if you let it be. Now feeling better, you flip around to see your mom make a descent back down into the living room, a purse now dangling from the crevice of her elbow.

She sashays up to Sunghoon’s mother, and the two women squeal in delight as they engulf one another. It’s admirable how much they care for each other, proving why they became such good coworkers then friends. You also find it adorable how similar their outfit choices are, with both of them sporting a dark blue dress.

Once they part, your mother turns her attention over towards the previously brooding boy. Though, you find it interesting how Sunghoon seems to have an easier expression now.

"Sunghoon, you're too tall! How am I supposed to reach you?" She gushes while brining him in for hug. A light chuckle dances out of him, and after a brief second they're pulling back from one another. Mrs. Park jumps in on the conversation about her son.

They begin to go on and on about all of his accomplishments; 'Oh! Sunghoon I heard you're doing excellent in your courses,' and, 'You are so involved with the community, it’s wonderful to see that someone’s trying.’ It’s sickening to see the immediate chokehold he has on the women, you observing the conversation emotionlessly.

After their near 20 minute rant (or what felt like it) finally your mother remembers your presence and decides to rope you in. She ushers you to come closer, and after a hasty back and forth, you scoot only mere inches into the circle, closer to him.

"You've been scoring well on your essays, Sunghoon, isn't that right?" Your mom starts and you want to scream right then and there.

He affirms her question with a swift nod, "Yes. I have."

"I don't think he's gotten below a 91 on his papers." Mrs. Park chimes in, and you secretly curse your mother for where this topic is about to go.

Your mom's eyes brighten as she looks over to Sunghoon, "That's amazing to hear. Actually, I think Y/N could use some tips on a few of her past works. She's been getting marked off on nearly every single one of them and could use the help!"

He hums in amusement, raking his eyes until they rest on your scowl. You feel his stare on you as you cross your arms and side step away from him, "Was that necessary to bring up?”

"Oh," your mother waves a dismissive hand, "Nonsense, sweetie. I'm sure a few pointers from this one will help raise that C- you have."

"Mom!"

Before you could object any further, a gasp leaves Mrs. Park's mouth and quickly she’s pulling your mother off to the side. She just remembered some news from work. While the two women chat, you’re left to stand idly, eyes darting off to the side while a wave of quietness engulfs the air. Sunghoon remains silent, as well.

You sure as hell hadn’t planned on talking to him and if that meant silence would be bestowed, then so be it. It’s for the better, anyways. You’re trying a new approach at things, and if you're forced to converse with him, you’re afraid it’ll lead to someone getting choked out. Not you, by the way. So…to avoid conflict, silence it is.

A short sigh from Sunghoon interrupts your thinking. You do a quick glance up at the..irritatingly tall boy, and see his gaze is turned all the way left, side-profile on display for you. He must’ve picked up on your hostility, which is why he has not said anything, you believe. Good. He should know better than to get you riled-

“You have a C- in that class? Are you serious?”

Perplexed, you raise your eyebrows from the sudden outburst, “Excuse me?”

Is he really trying to start this right now?

He keeps his head faced away from you, then at the last second he twists it back and you see a new expression dawns on him. That of complete arrogance, “English Literature is a stupid easy class. I’m surprised to hear you’re doing poorly.”

As you open your mouth to shut up him, he proceeds further with his berating, “Then again,” he lets out a dry laugh, “I guess I shouldn’t be so shocked that you need me. You’ve always fell short when it came to academics.”

Sunghoon watches your face morph into pure anger, and as sick as it may be for him to admit it, this is where he finds true enjoyment. In the reactions you always give in the moments you feel wronged.

You do a short shuffle as you feel yourself releasing the chains of self-control. You knew he would act this way. He always does.

“Okay, so I’m not doing well,” you state matter-of-factly, “So. Fucking. What? I’d rather have a shitty grade in this class than beg some snobby prick for aid.”

You tried to hold back.

At the sudden drop of name calling, a bitter grin erupts onto his lips, “Like you deserve my help.”

“For the record, I never asked for it,” you throw a hand up as new found confidence starts to build up in your core, “But trust me. If I really needed you, then I would make you fucking help me.”

His eyes widen from your accusation, “You really think I would tend to you? Knowing your unruly attitude?” Disbelief switches onto his face, his thick eyebrows creasing together uncomfortably, “God. You’re such a brat.”

And just like that, you hit a snapping point. Without wasting another second, you begin to hurl every insult in the book his way, your rage boiling past whatever containment you thought you had. He’s ready to argue back at you when a light shriek stops both of you mid sentence.

"Oh, we need to get a move on it. I didn’t even realize the time. It’s about to be 7.” Your mother comments and you almost retort it with a snide remark on how inquisitive she's been about Sunghoon's life.

Mrs. Park trots her way towards the door, saying her final goodbye to her son along the way. Your mother shares her own words of departure, though it's mixed with your protest on her leaving.

"Alright kiddos, we'll try not to be too long." She speaks with one foot out the door, "Y/N, please treat our guest kindly."

You give the boy, who's now walked up and standing to the side of you, a deathly glower, "Get him the fu-"

"Y/N. Kindly, please." She reiterates with a sweet bite, and to that you could only sigh defeatedly.

Mrs. Park is not far behind your mother as she twists to address Sunghoon one last time, "Honey, please be-"

"Be nice, I know." He finishes in a sort of annoyed tone. Though after that, being nice is the last thing she would need to worry about.

With more reassurance, the two women give each other a passing glance, and soon after another round of goodbyes, the door closes shut.

Leaving you trapped here with your absolute nightmare.

With a deep groan, you stagnantly turn towards Sunghoon just as he’s twisting his body to reluctantly face you. Peering up through your eyelashes, you make absolutely sure he feels the unwelcomed signals radiating off of you as you go to speak.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

His eyes roll nearly out of their sockets as he starts to slip off his coat, "What happened to being kind to your guests?"

He mocks the words that were handed to you, and your eyes narrow while watching him hang the jacket on a nearby rack.

You notice his shirt of choice- now on display -is a tight black T-Shirt, curving and outlining all of the spots you hate the most about him. God, you think you just got even more annoyed.

Turning your nose upwards, you start to inch closer towards the staircase, "I couldn't care less about that, if I'm being completely honest." You do a full twirl so all Sunghoon can see is your back, "Here’s what you can do: either entertain yourself in the living room or get the fuck out. Choose whatever you want as long as it doesn’t involve me.”

He goes tight-lipped. You are just the epitome of an ungrateful little brat, holy fuck. Sunghoon shoots his vision away with a brief head shake. Despite his growing emotions, he knows it will be better to not engage. He really didn’t feel like fighting with you right now. Like how you both always manage to do.

Clearing his throat, Sunghoon begins to walk slowly towards the couch, his upper muscles flexing with every step, "Whatever. I'm not dealing with you tonight."

That makes you halt in your tracks. Dealing with you? What? Like you're some untrained puppy?

"No, I'm not dealing with you tonight,” you sneer back then scoff, retreating upstairs once again, “Just fucking stay down here and we won’t have any more problems.”

His back hits the couch cushion with a flop as he starts to call out to you, “Right. It’s not like the problem isn't taking itself upstairs at the moment!"

Oh, that touched a nerve. So much so that you find yourself shouting from the second story, having made it up there a few seconds prior, “You should’ve just stayed at your own fucking house!”

"Do you ever stop fucking talking?” He raises his voice back at you; maybe not quite to the extent of your screaming, but nonetheless you could hear him from upstairs.

Upon entering your room, you slam the door shut with all your might. You swear you even felt the floor shake from the force. Pissed doesn’t even begin to describe your emotions currently. You’re at a whole new level.

You're fuming. Chest huffing, fists clenched, ooh- you've never met someone who irked as badly as fucking Park Sunghoon had.

Why? Why? Why did he have to be in your home right now? Why did your mother think this was a good idea? And why did he have to look so nice with his stupid shirt and black joggers?

You begin to pace around your room.

He's messing with you, clouding your head with complex thoughts. If there's one thing you loathed most about the boy downstairs it's his ability to turn your brain to mush.

It's like all thoughts and rationality fly out of the window, and instead is replaced with....just nothing. Nothing but anger, resentment, and a tiny bit of something else however you're willing to suppress that for the time being.

You bring a thumb up to stroke your lip. Mind racing, your brain starts to piece together what you should do to alleviate this stress. You're going crazy, you recognized that, and you’re certain a distraction is needed for you to get your thoughts cleared.

As you think back to all that has you feeling so jumbled, a sudden surge runs throughout your core. No. You know what your body is attempting to do. And it’s not going to work. Even as another hits you and makes your thighs clench unwillingly, you hold on to your determination.

You can’t do it, you tell yourself. Especially when Sunghoon’s downstairs. It’s ridiculous. Unfathomable. There is no way you would…..

Moments later, you find yourself completely and utterly naked in your bed, deciding the best way to calm down is by having a….release. Your pulses started became too unbearable to ignore, leaving you with only one option. This option.

Is it the most convenient method of stress relieving? Well, probably not. But, truly, in times where you’re free to strip bare and dish out a quickie, you always find it leaves your mind feeling blissful.

And you desperately need that right now, because in all honesty, you aren’t sure what the hell you’re feeling right now due to Sunghoon.

As your brain is beginning to wonder, you absentmindedly brush the backs of your fingers against your lower stomach. Park Sunghoon. The name is like poison in your head, and you can’t find the damn cure for some reason.

Your hand drops a little lower. Thinking back on your most recent argument, you remember the eye contact you two held, before forcing yourself to break free from his gaze. You tilt your head, the memory becoming even more clear. That damn gaze.

…..if only he could use it from a different angle.

A sharp exhale flies out of your mouth as you realize you’ve made contact with your clit. You’re lighting swarming around the area while it continues to throb enticingly. A different angle? Like….one where he’s in between your legs, staring at you with those stupid fucking know-it-all eyes.

Your body responds well to that imagination, your hips slightly bucking into your hand to garner some friction. Would you two be on the bed? No, you think you like the idea of getting him on his damn knees and making him eat you out nice and slowly while on floor…a whole lot better.

He’d tried to take control, you already know his arrogant ass would. Yet, in reality, you will be the one calling the shots. If he starts to suck a little too much for your likings, one hair tug and he’ll slow down. Cause he’ll listen to you, you’ll make sure of it.

A small smile cracks out onto your face, focusing deeply on your sprouting pleasure. Yeah, you like the Park Sunghoon in your imagination a lot better than the one real life. Your fingers are now circling the bud, producing ripples of sensation that keeps your movements and thoughts going.

He’ll keep his attention fixed on you the whole time he’s devouring you, you assume. Because if there’s one thing about Sunghoon, he’ll love to see you come undone at the cause of him. Would love to see that sexy ass face you make right before you orgasm.

And the way your thighs will squeeze around his cheeks so perfectly, oh fuck him. He’d get so fucking horny from just tasting your sweet, sweet pussy.

Shutting your eyes, your vision explodes with images of your lewd thoughts, playing out your ideal fantasy. You can hear yourself start to whimper while your pelvis becomes more sporadic in the way it chases the coming feeling.

At the minute you tell him you’re close, he’d latch onto your clit, no plan on stopping. Scratch that, he probably couldn’t stop himself from finishing you out. You’ve been treating him so well up until this point. Letting him cum inside you, in your mouth; the least he could do is give you a head-splitting orgasm.

You rub your soaking cunt all over the palm of your hand, desperation coursing through your veins. Imagine annoying little Sunghoon, who’s only wish is for you to cum. To cum all over his face, down his own throat. He’s on his knees below you because he wants the full effect of seeing how much you’re letting yourself go from his tongue.

Then, with one long sucking motion, you’d fall apart. With your orgasm hitting you dead on your clit, you’d start to quiver on top of him while screaming out, ‘So fucking good, So fucking good. Fuck, you’re making me cum.’

Your hand speeds up to have you cumming alongside your scenario, your own real orgasm washing over you deliciously. It leaves your body stuttering and eyes rolling back into your head as you continue to work at your pussy during the duration. And all you could think about was how much you fucking hated stupid Park Sunghoon.

Once your high comes down, you firstly lay in your bed to recover. That had to have been one of your best and strongest impromptu session. Fuck, did you enjoy every part of it.

True to nature, as well, your mind is so foggy from the haze that you can’t even recall your earlier fury, which is now replaced with a more simple feeling: lust. You bask in the warmness that’s spreading and also give your cunt a chance to get desensitized, before swinging your legs off of the bed and walking over to your dresser.

It was starting to get hot with your thick layers on anyways, which is why you opt for thinner clothes. You pull out a pair of cotton shorts that stop upper thigh on you, and then a cropped T-shirt for simple comfort.

Needing to wash your hands quickly, you swiftly run into the connected bathroom to your room, lather your hands in soap and soon you’re rinsing yourself off. When finished with that, you smile contently as you walk back to your bedroom and flop down stomach first onto the mattress.

You really did feel better. Your anger has subsided by now, the orgasm keeps your mind still a bit dizzy, there were no complaints to be had. Now, you planned on spending the rest of your evening locked up in here so you can continue feeling as such. Boom, simple as that.

A loud buzz from your phone on the nightstand has you scrambling to reach it, that giddy feeling not once leaving. Though, once you flip it over to reveal a text from your mother, you feel your smile drop immediately.

8:09 PM

Mom:

Hey sweetie, just wanted to do a quick check-in on the two of you. I hope everything's going okay.

You begin to type out a borderline aggressive message back, something along the lines of how everything was not going okay, but another message swooshes in before you could even finish your own.

After doing some rethinking, you don’t need to ask Sunghoonie for help anymore. It wasn’t fair of me to put you in that position without asking you first. You’re old enough to make your own decisions now, and if you think you’ll be okay without asking him for help, then you can decide that. I’m sorry for making you feel as if you never had a choice.

You stop your rant midway, and look closer at the message. Oh. Oh. Oh….

“Mom…” With a frown, you watch as yet another message flies across your screen, and you find that you’re a bit more accepting of this one.

8:14 PM

Mom:

But, I do want to make sure that you are trying with Sunghoon. I understand as of right now, it may be difficult to do so, you two are apparently quite hostile. However, I’m asking if you can extend the white flag, at least for tonight. Make sure he’s not hungry, maybe you two can put on a movie downstairs. Just try and be cordial, that’s my only request. Can you do that?

Stomach churning, you begin to gnaw on your bottom lip right now, those complex emotions rising up again. Dammit. You seriously thought nothing more would come out of this situation tonight. You thought once you had your….release, you would be able to relax freely without any stressors.

But then you reread her latest text, and guilt surfaces in your heart. Maybe…you haven’t been putting in as much effort as you could have; you did just leave the boy downstairs to fend for himself. Is it possible for you to set your very, very strong feelings and just…suck it up for the sake of your mother?

You were accepting of this feat earlier.

A quick scroll up has you revisiting the first large paragraph she sent you, the one that acknowledges your feelings. Your mother is trying right now, and you register that it would be unfair of you to not try as well.

8:20 PM

Y/N:

okay mom, i can do that for you.

You're downstairs before you know it. After many, many, many mental preparations, you now feel ready to be within the same space as the devi- Park Sunghoon.

Approaching your living room, the pale yellow lighting illuminates Sunghoon's backside, giving you a clear view of him. With one defined arm stretched out on top of the cushion, Sunghoon seems entranced with the movie playing on T.V, not appearing to have noticed your presence.

You shuffle your feet against the floor until you slow to a halt. In the span of your waiting, not once does he turn around. The movie must be drowning out your existence. Pivoting, you opt to round out the couch and stand in the middle for visibility. Sunghoon keeps his eyes trained forward. Surely, he feels your presence now, even if he may not be acknowledge it.

Sticking your hip, you gently clear your throat, "Ahem."

He throws a cruel glare over his shoulder before reverting back to his previous position, no comment to be left from him. You're standing still, okay then...

You dart your eyes away to view something else, then sweep them back over to his body, “Are you…hungry?”

A look of bewilderment dawns on his face as he shoots you a perplexed look, “Why are you asking me that? Wouldn’t you rather have me starve?”

“I-” you try to rebuttal his claim, but incriminatingly you start to avoid eye contact with him, “No. Not necessarily…”

Yeah-fucking-right. He highly doubts that's true. Instead of replying, Sunghoon turns back towards the television. Silence remains. You follow his eyesight to watch a couple of seconds of the movie. Well, so much for trying.

You continue to stand awkwardly, wrapping your arms around your torso and rocking yourself back and forth slightly. Just try. Just try. Just. Try.

"Park Sunghoon." You mumble out and he snaps his attention towards you. If not for your eyes lurching up to look at the ceiling, then maybe you would have noticed the surprise once over he does to your outfit.

“What?”

You look down again, and try to shake the embarrassment that’s clawing at you. Just try, “C-Can I watch this with you?” Holy fuck that felt harder to say.

Sunghoon squints his eyes as he tries really hard to figure out what the hell is your deal. Merely an hour ago, the two of you were having a screaming match, and now you’re fidgeting and asking to be in the same room as him….willingly?

He doesn��t buy that for a second.

He drags his pupils up and down your frame, his greedy eyes wanting to drink in more of it, but at the realization of what he was doing, he forces himself to look away. Willingly? Yeah, no. He figures your mother would be the cause for this. Only reason he says this: his own mom sent a text not too long ago telling him to try harder with you. And…it appears you are at least doing something.

With a rough sigh, Sunghoon decides to not say anything else, but rather signals you to sit down with a single quick head tilt. Your face grimaces at his cave-man like gesture, and although you went slowly about it, you do as he says and take a seat.

You snuggle deeper into the couch cushion, and allow your body to relax. You’re so used to being on guard whenever around Sunghoon, it feels almost natural to stiffen up. Letting yourself relinquish this tension built up in your muscles, you find it easier to keep your cool.

Dropping your arms to your side, you start to focus harder on the movie and less on the boy sitting next to you. Does it slightly freak you out that his fingertips are only centimeters away from your shoulder? Yes. But for the most part, you can sense this is….tolerable. As if for once, you don’t feel like biting Park Sunghoon’s head off.

Minutes turn into over an hour this movie has been on, and both you and Sunghoon have managed to not get into a single argument. You aren’t sure when the last instance of this was. Elementary, maybe? Regardless, you’re at ease.

Your arm is propping your head up as you watch the characters on screen. The movie, though you never asked for its name, was some romantic comedy. You picked up on this fact a few minutes into watching it. And, wow, were they intense on the romance.

You couldn’t even count the amount of make-outs that has happened since you’ve been watching. You almost want to say 8 so far- oh, make it 9 now.

The lead characters are on their 9th kissing scene, stumbling around and fondling one another in the bathroom at some house party. You watch closely, part of your brain now heightened. The male actor is kissing the female until her ass touches the sink, and then he’s hoisting her up so she can sit on the counter.

Your face contorts unpleasantly. The scene further plays out to where the girl is begging the man for sex, desperate to have him inside of her, and you feel your mouth go dry.

This is beginning to hit a little too close to home for your likings, with a dusted memory you swore to bury attempting to resurface. You push the thoughts aways. Not now.

Trying to ignore the random squeeze your legs do, you tell yourself to ignore the familiarities and simply focus on the movie. However, at the moment the man grips the the women’s throat and she moans intensely, you nearly freeze. Yeah, you can’t watch this anymore.

With an airy voice, you keep your eyes fixed on the T.V to seem passive, “Change it to something else.”

“What?” Sunghoon doesn’t glance over to you, also keeping his gaze forward, “Why?”

You scoff lightly. Why can’t he just listen to you? What’s with the interrogation? “You always ask so many questions. Just change it.”

To that he responds with nothing. You’re not giving him a proper response, so why should he listen to you? He remains engrossed in the movie.

When a few notable beats pass, you crane your neck over to his direction with a scrunched faced, “Yah. Did you hear me? I said put on something else.”

He briskly whips his head to meet your eyes, his dark eyes boring harshly, “I don’t care what you have to say. I’m not changing it.”

Fed up with him, you reach over to grab the remote when he obtains it first. You glare menacingly at Sunghoon, while he mocks your expression, then holds the remote high above, taunting you. His slender fingers harboring it only fuels your anger, which grows hotter by the second.

“Don’t piss me off.” You warn with undertones of a threat, as you climb over him to reach for the device. He extends it further away from your grasp.

“Or what?”

Bobbing the remote over your head, he just knew you were going to lose your cool at some point. That’s what all whiny brats do when they never get their way; they throw tantrums.

“Just fucking put on something else!” You scream, fighting him for the remote.

You don’t care if you can feel your shorts start to ride up into your butt, or if your boobs are being shoved up against Sunghoon’s body. You don’t care that you’re basically on top of him, trying to win this remote, because all rationality has exited your head.

You ask him to do one simple thing, and he fucking couldn’t. Then, he wants to tease you and make fun of you? You tried, you think back to your mother’s message, and in your mind the exchange begins to burn. You really fucking tried, but this…arrogant bastard just always makes it so damn hard.

He shakes the little strands of hair away from his face as he narrows his eyes brutally towards your squirmy body, “What the fuck is your deal? You’re telling me your whore ass can’t handle one god damn sex scene?”

This time you don’t say anything back to him, instead your intention remains on getting the fucking remote. He takes your lack of response as an opportunity to dig further at you.

“Really? You’re going to act like that?” He spews out more comments while continuously keeping the control from getting in your reach, “I find it hard to believe you’re freaking out-”

“Damn brat. You’ve been needing this fucking for a long time, haven’t you?”

At the line of dialogue, Sunghoon shifts his attention towards the scene being played out, one of which the girl is now bent over the sink with the man pounding roughly into her backside. And with the combination of the man’s words and the stimulating scene, his eyes widen as he finally realizes what the core problem is.

A wave of deja vu hits him. A few months ago, he had you in a damn near similar position to that on the TV, even saying similar phrasing. The two of you had been drunk off of your minds, resulting in the memory being blocked from his head.

“What the fuck?” He mumbles, letting his guard down, giving you the chance to swoop upwards and snatch the remote away. All scattered-brain, you press the power button and watch as the TV powered down.

“See.” You grit through your teeth, throwing the remote down in the meantime, “I told you. I told your dumbass to fucking change it. But, no. You didn’t want to listen to me.”

His own chest starts to burn with aggression at your words, and he looks over to you angrily, “Will you just shut the fuck up? My god, you’re so annoying.”

“What? Mad because I was right?” You fake a pouty voice, your eyes going all doey while regarding him before swiftly fixing your face, “I never want to think about that night, and here you go, basically parading it in my face. And based off of your reaction, I can tell you hate thinking about it too.”

Sunghoon sits up from off of the couch, and brings his forearms to rest against his knees. That night was full of mistakes. Jake inviting him to that dumb ass party, Heeseung feeding him back to back shots of some sort of alcohol. The kind of of alcohol that forces you to act on thoughts that otherwise would've been suppressed.

The memories all rush back to him. The moment he saw you at the party, laughing and dancing around in that tiny fucking dress. It was like right then and there, his views on you changed. Instead of dismissing your presence, he found himself drawn to it. Instead of ignoring the silhouette of your body, he allowed himself to watch every single part of you.

When throwing all caution to the wind and deciding to walk up to you, he remembers you being equally as wasted as himself. That hadn’t stopped you from throwing an immediate snarl at his approach, however. Although the interaction started with you two bickering, as always- the evening had ended so much differently.

He remembers it all. Moving from the main room to the bathroom, still jabbing insults at each other. How from one second to the next, your dress was now hiked up above your hips. The touching, the teasing, how hard the two of you came. The whole scene plays out in his head, and for some reason, Sunghoon can’t stop it.

You snide in another comment which breaks his thoughts, “Yeah, I guess I’d be mad too if I were you. You basically threw yourself at me and begged to fuck me. It’s pathetic how desperate you were.”

Now, you’re really heated. You rise to your feet in seconds and march over to stand above him, feeling reminiscent of your previous imagination. At the noticeable imbalance, the same satisfaction from earlier mixes with your current anger.

It spreads across your chest as you lour down at him, watching him bring a hand over his mouth, “For a change, you don’t have anything to say, is that why you’re silent? Did I finally get you to shut up?”

At the quietness that lingers in the air, you press further to elicit a greater reaction. Bursting out more and more taunts, you knew this is where you found enjoyment, watching him spiral and be confused by his own thoughts. You’re proud to make him feel just as perplexed as you were the whole night.

You’re ready to throw another insult his way when his tall body shoots up into the air, looming over you. His eyes are rage-filled, you can see that, and reactively you backpeddle just as he rushes closer to you.

“Y/N, I swear to fucking god. You’re going to make me lose my mind.”

For a brief second, your hard exterior falters. His warning is low- almost growl like. It intimidated you initially, but then swiftly you regain composure and stand your ground, “You make me lose my mind all the time. So what? You’re not special.”

You audibly hear his breathing, and it begins to sync up with your own heavy pants. Both of you are pissed, that much is clear. It’s just about who is going to crumble first. And surely, it won’t be you.

He’s got a crazy look to his eyes, “I’m telling you right now. Shut. Up.”

You knew better than to challenge him. You knew you should walk away and storm upstairs. Exit the situation before matters get even worse. Quite literally anything else should be done, than the actions you decide to take.

You close the distance between you both, smiling the whole time as he brings his head in to regard you. At the recognition of that sick, sick smile you’re showcasing, he too knew it would be over.

Your voice starts off quiet, whispering out a, “What will happen if I don’t?” before absolutely losing it in his face, “Just face it, Sunghoon. You're not the perfect person you portray yourself to be after all. I mean, fucking the person you hate most at a party? Even that's a new low for you."

You hover below his face, stretching your body tall until your noses are almost touching, "I'm tired of you pretending to be higher than everyone else. Always treating people like they’re twenty feet below you. You’re vile and I think it's time you realized.....maybe you're the fucking problem. Hmm? Did you not think of-?"

Sunghoon doesn't know what came over him. One second, you're throwing words after words at him, and next thing he knows, he's pushing you up against the wall, knocking the wind out of you.

His veiny hands are curled around your neck, and your mouth hangs from shock at the sudden movement while he holds you firmly in your place. The pressure he's applied is not enough to significantly hurt you, he made sure it didn't, but was definitely enough to finally get you to stop talking.

You gasp lightly and your head feels faint.

"Do you…remember how that night started?" His tone is dark with his focus solely on you. You try bringing your hands up to pry him off of you, but he doesn't budge, instead going to answer his own question, "Because if memory serves me right, you were the one who was desperate. Desperate for this.”

This referring to the minor squeeze his hand does around your throat. He continues, "You were the one who kept testing me. Wanted to see what would happen if you made me angry enough." The gap between you two closes when he draws himself inwards, making sure you heard this next part clearly, "Someone needed to shut that bratty ass mouth of yours up then," He drops his gaze to briskly look at your lips then jeers, "And right now."

While you're left to wear a poor, helpless expression, Sunghoon couldn't help but eye you curiously. It should be laughable the new state you're in. So completely different from your previous attitudes.

Using his hand to guide you, he roughly brings your head forward, so his mouth can brush the outer shell of your ear, "You really pissed me off, Y/N."

You get shoved back against the wall with a wince. "And... maybe that was your end goal with all of these arguments. You wanted to get me to this point." At the recognition of his own words, the wheels begin to turn in his brain. His eyebrows dart upward and a devilish smile tugs at his lips, "And to that, you're going to regret saying even one word tonight. I'll make sure of it."

Before you can react, Sunghoon crawls his hand up until it rests below your chin. As his thumb releases from your skin, and slowly works his way up to your lips, you think he'll be gentle in the way he's getting ready to touch you.

Oh, how wrong you were.

The moment his thumb comes in contact with your mouth, it's being shoved into your wet hole. You gag on the digit as he begins ordering you to suck, "Just needa fuck the bratiness out of you, then. Remind you of how much of a fucking slut you were for me that night."

He instructs you to go harder, and faster, and leisurely, you do so. Tingles start to form all around him, "Yeah. I'll do that. I'll just have to fuck you dumb myself, starting with your loud mouth."

You squeeze your eyes shut at the motion, coughing hard against his skin as his fingers move to tangle within your hair. Sunghoon always knew how catty you can be, this fact evident from what happened that night at the party.

However, what's also true, is that you do it for your own guilty pleasure. You purposely bring this upon yourself.

He yanks his thumb away and in return, you're inhaling harshly for air, "-what the fuck?"

Sunghoon dismisses your worries. Without warning, he has you falling to the ground with one swift push, his own desires now starting to throb inside his sweats, "Go on. Pull down my pants, brat."

He murmurs those words with a tilted face. In contrast, you look up at him as fear and lust begin to cloud your vision. Even with the menacing face he sports, you know you're not one to fully give-in. Especially when it comes to Park Sunghoon.

You aren't sure what it is about the defiance, but it makes you crazy, "Like hell-"

The grip in your hair tightens and your mouth drops from the pain. He regards your expression, "Really? Do you think you're in a position to object me right now?"

Lips parted, you shudder out a sigh while staring at Sunghoon's deep gaze. The stance he has you in makes your stomach erupt into butterflies.

"Pull my pants down." He repeats once again and after a pause, you eventually do so. With a tremble, you begin to bring both hands up and fondle the waistband, struggling to remove the barricade.

A tiny smile breaks out onto the boy's face. It's amusing how you pretend as if this wasn't the end prize. He watches you react disgustingly to his finally freed cock that springs forward, and it takes all of his power to not ram it into your ungrateful little mouth.

"What are you looking like that for? Aren't you a whore for my cock, Y/N?" He derides and thrusts himself towards your face. You try to create distance, but the hand in your hair keeps you in place, "Let’s go. Stop acting like that and take out your fucking tongue."

You hate yourself for listening to him.

With a small shiver, you unhurriedly extend your tongue from your mouth, and immediately he slaps his dick onto your muscle. He's had a great amount of pre-cum built up for some time now, starting from the minute you came down in that skimpy ass outfit. So, as soon as his dick hits your tongue, your taste buds are drowning in the liquid.

He's gasping lightly from the immediate sensation. He rubs his head all over your surface, then gradually does he start to slip himself in and out of your mouth. Your eyes go nearly white from trying to take his full length, but that’s something that only makes Sunghoon hornier.

You’re gargling around his skin as he proceeds to go faster, his base smacking against your chin every so often. Spit and his thick liquid mix to form a froth that starts to spill from the corners of your mouth, and Sunghoon groans lowly at how filthy you look.

“Oh…fuck.” It feels too good, the rocking of his hips speeding up. He’s enjoying the aggressive way he bucks himself harder and harder inside of your throat. And even as you’re thrashing beneath him, straining to get air, he finds that he didn’t want to stop. It just turns him so damn much to see you take his fat cock.

He throws his head back, “Keep it open for me. Fuck- just keep that nasty mouth open.”

You’re sick. Sick towards him for using you in such a degrading way, for letting him nearly cut off the circulation to your head. Right now, you’re nothing more than a fuck toy for him, and he doesn’t even seem to care. Not when he has you as the perfect fucking stimulant.

Yet, you’re also sick at yourself. It’s embarrassing that you notice your pussy clenching around nothing the longer he keeps this up. The fact that you’ve become so dilated in your core that gravity has slick juices leaking from your entrance. All because of this asshole that’s abusing your mouth, you're becoming aroused like never before. It’s humiliating, really.

His movements begin to stutter with a vibration to his eyelids. Oh, fuck. He can feel his cum wanting to shoot out. Sunghoon continues to push your head into him as he internally debates at what the outcome should be. There’s still so much he’s wanting to do to you, to prove.

When you can’t take the torture anymore, you’re soon hitting his leg to get him the hell away from you. Your reaction makes him realize how intrusive he’s starting to be, but he's so swirled with the immaculate pleasure that he almost didn’t let go. Before he knows it, he’ll be cumming down your throat at any moment.

Ripping himself from your suction, Sunghoon relinquishes you two from the torture. Ragged breathing emits from you as hungrily you take in the surrounding air. He, on the other, holds quieter breaths. A part of him is surprised that he was even willing to let himself finish so quickly. You were going to make him finish quickly.

With a few additional huffs, and after a moment of silence falls into the atmosphere, he’s ready to address you. Because he’s not done with you just yet.

“Yah,” There’s a gasp to his tone while you glare up begrudgingly, “You finally changed that attitude of yours?”

With your chest heaving up and down, you continue to stare angrily. Sunghoon cocks his head to the side while he awaits for your reply, though judging by the look you sport, he doesn’t think it’ll be the answer he wants.

“Eat a fucking dick.” With a hoarse throat, you spit the phrase at him.

And. Snap.

Before you know it, Sunghoon is grabbing you by the hair and yanking you over to the couch with a stumble. He tosses your body face first into the cushion and you land with a soft groan.

“Just can’t stop, can you?” He sees your ass recoiling from the previous motion and he swears it makes him go feral, "I'll just have to keep reminding you then."

In a flash, when you tried to push yourself up, he strikes a hand down to your cheeks. Your flesh jiggles with the audible slap and you're falling back down with a much louder moan.

“Did you like that?” Feigning stupidity, Sunghoon uses one arm to grab at your tiny shirt from the back, flipping you around till you laid chest-up sprawled out on the couch, "Do you want another?"

Eyes glossy with anger, you can’t help but whimper as he lands a harsh smack to your clothed cunt. He repeats the motion in a harder manner once again, and this time you’re fighting back. You wriggle to close yourself off from him, but he’s fighting to keep your legs open. He's clasping your clit.

Your arms move in for attack, though he’s able to immobilize your hands by taking them with one grasp and holding them above your head. You’re stuck now.

You squirm around, “I hate you.”

"Really?" unfazed by your words, Sunghoon simply gives your wet core a hearty squeeze, “Well, I’m feeling that might not be true.”

Staring smugly, he keeps his eyes locked on your frantic gaze as he sweeps your shorts to the side. Wetness coats the tips of fingers in an instant and he hasn’t even fully touched you. Fucking hell.

“Right. You hate so much.” Sarcasm oozes from his lips with every stroke his fingers give your pussy, and you’re left to do nothing but wiggle. He towers over your contorted body, loving how quickly he was able to put you down.

His fingers circle your lips teasingly before moving into your dripping entrance. He doesn’t waste another second in shoving his digits in and out of your hole, eyeing the way you struggle to keep a straight face.

“S-So fucking annoying.” You stutter out, trying your absolute hardest to not slip and give him any further satisfaction of knowing he got to you.

Sunghoon takes this as a challenge. Leaning in closer, he changes the angle his fingers hit inside your squelching walls. His fingers gradually increase in pace until you're seeing stars. He continues to ram his digits inside of your pussy as they grow wetter and wetter. He keeps this up. And soon, your face morphs from that of resilience to a more natural state, your eyes lowering.

Oh, god. Your body’s succumbing to him. It’s taking the pleasure produced by him and using it against you, dammnit it. What becomes worse is how your body begins to rock alongside his fingers, chasing the high that’s ever growing in your system.

You howl, “Fuck!”

His fingers feel like they’re hitting your g-spot and now you’re a mess. Thrashing and twisting below him while he finger fucks your way to an orgasm. Your toes curl in the feelings that’s wafting over you. You’re losing control.

“God, I hate you. I hate you so fucking much.” You grit out through clenched teeth, eyes now tightly shut as you concentrate on his wicked pounding, “Can’t stand you. I-”

“Yeah? Yeah?” His questions are disingenuous. He wants you to keep going. Keep digging yourself a grave.

“Piss me of so- ah! Fuck! Don’t stop, don’t stop.” The words topple from your lips without a thought. Your hips rut harshly into his fingers, so greedily, so close to basically squirting. By any second you’re going to….you’re going to-

Your body goes cold the minute Sunghoon snatches his fingers from you, abstaining you from the arousal you'd been subjected to. Screeching, you bellow out a desperate cry from how empty you feel.

He bores a look of apathy, indifferent to your flailing, "What? Did you think I would actually let you cum? After your shitty attitude all night?"

Reaching down, he adjusts your rigid body into a more elongated position, then he's straddling you, "I just needed to get you ready. Cause now I want to destroy you."

You want to slap him, your face growing hotter by the second. This night, you've spent it feeling nothing but rage and lividness because of the boy on top of you.

But then he's working to uncover your breasts, playing and squishing them with both palms, and momentarily your facade begins to fade.

He's hunched over in the way he's needlessly gunning for your neck, biting and marking every spot he could. You squeal from the pain, and that only pushes him further.

He circles around the same throat he held previously to leave splotches of red staining your skin. It's in this moment of daze, his rapture begins to enthrall him, causing his cock to throb and throb until it's hurting.

Sunghoon works his way up, passing by your chin until he's aggressively making out with you. All of the pent up tension and conflicts feels as if they're being spilled out within the rough kiss, and you wrap an arm around him and mewl needily into his breath.

You still hate him, even if his annoyingly perfect lips mold deliciously into yours. You still hate him, even as he expertly touches and grabs at your tits, providing more stimulation to your already horny self.

But even you can't deny the desperate longing your body seeks as his thick, hard skin prods at the entrance of your shorts right now. And he can't wait anymore.

"Mmm, ready for me?" He mumbles against your mouth, though he didn't necessarily care for a response. Because even if you were to protest, he knew it would just be another ploy at deflection.

He's back to kissing you. The aggression that's brought along with it could be mistaken for passion and it makes you weak. Right before he darts the fabric off to the side and ready to take you whole, you pull back slightly, wanting to say one more thing.

"I h-hate you so much," you whine and he could only laugh. You truly never know when to shut up.

"You've told me that a couple of times." Muttering back, he recaptures your mouth and without wasting another second his cock finally plunges into your deep pussy.

Your walls immediately grip him, and the two of you groan simultaneously into each other. He did a good job at prepping you; you're beautifully slick and warm, just the way he likes it.

His cock starts to thrust rhythmically, relieving the ache you both were so full of. You can't help the string of grunts that fall from your lips, all chopped from each hit he gives your pussy.

"S-Shit." Sunghoon detaches his mouth from yours to completely bask in the arousal that's coursing throughout him. It brings him back to that night.

The night where you bent your sexy ass over for him, and watched yourself in the mirror as he smashed into your backside. He was on Cloud 9 then, but now coherent and in the right head space, it's like the pleasure has doubled.

You, meanwhile, are having an internal battle with yourself. Holy shit. It feels so fucking good when he's pounding inside of you. You swear you're gonna cum at any point. But, there's still this sense of revulsion that bubbles in the pit of your stomach- because of the fact that you're allowing Park Sunghoon to fuck you so roughly.

"H-Hope you know- mmrgh! This is a-all your fault." You stammer out, eyes shutting forcefully on themselves, "You always c-cause problems. You're in the- you're in the-"

A hand comes down over your lips and shuts you up, your face relaxing into a state of bliss. You aren't sure why you always jumble out nonsense when in moments of euphoria. It's just as if....he's...

"I said I would fuck you dumb," Sunghoon sighs as his back lurches over to grind into your cunt at a different angle, "Guess I actually did."

Your response is muffled and buzzes into his skin. There are no intentions of uncovering himself, either. No way will he let this indescribable sensation be override by your loud ass, bratty ass mouth.

His hips continue to drive harshly into your liquified cunt, squelching and dripping the more he fucks himself into you. He only gets faster while you begin to grow limp. Your own pleasure starts to consume you until you don't have the willpower to move.

Sunghoon feels his cock start to twitch, "About to cum," he moans near your ear, "Can feel myself about to cum inside your dirty pussy. Are you close too?"

You shriek into his hand a multitude of yes's as you feel yourself so close to snapping. It's only a matter of time before you're losing control all at the hands of your actual worst nightmare.

He weighs his options, "Mmm....but should I? Do you deserve to orgasm with me?"

You'd despise not only him but yourself if you didn't. You're too far gone. The pleasure is catching up to you closer and closer, the more he buries himself damn near into your cervix. Waves after waves of ecstasy release into your core and you almost want to cry from how amazing it feels. So there's no fucking way you're going to miss this.

You never thought you would do this, but it's only a matter of time.

What sounds like your yes's transforming into pleads, Sunghoon scrunched his eyebrows, going to remove your hand. Are you....?

The moment your mouth is free you yell out a whimper, "Please. Please. 'm so close, Sunghoon. Sunghoon, please. I can't, I can't. I need this so bad."

Oh, fuck.

He'd never thought he'd see the day. He's never heard you beg before. The way his name sounds so good when you're pleading, how it squeals out from your lips. It makes his cock twitch once again and he's clenching his ass cheeks to stop him from popping a load right into you.

"You really want to?" He speaks quietly and more to himself, before deciding to give you what you want. Even brats can be rewarded.

He's pushing himself up and is now hovering over your face, his pelvis driving brutally into your core, "Okay. Okay, just let go. Cum for me."

You're so grateful you could kiss him. You let the slaps his skin produce fill you ears as you give yourself some slack for even letting this happen. You were about to cum because of Park Sunghoon, and there was nothing you wanted to do to stop it.

Sunghoon can't help but stare at your wavering face. Going from tight tension to relaxing and belting out a moan, your expressions keeps his eyes trained on you.

"Here, here. Faster, need you to cum right now." And almost like a present for you, Sunghoon brings a hand down to start massaging your clit, getting you to the very last point you needed to before exploding.

When his fingers circle rapidly against your nerves, combined with his pounding that has you babbling out nothing, your orgasm hits you so hard, starting from your pussy and running up into your head, making you dizzy. The moment causes you to starting quavering sporadically and mewing out, 'I'm cumming!'

That was what Sunghoon needed. Your orgasm causes your insides to start squeezing, pulsating around his cock so perfectly. At the third time he feels his cock beginning to twitch, he grants himself permission to let go. Next thing he knows, he's shooting out viscous ropes of cum into your velvety cunt, groaning about how perfect of a brat you are for him.

'Finally fucking listened'

'My perfect brat'

'God, you're amazing'

All is being said as you two finish out your orgasms. As he stutters above you, and you're quaking below him, you both seem to have finally found peace within being close to one another.

Which brings to an end this dirty, filthy night.

✧ ✧

✧

* ✧

✧

- Bonus -

Your mother and Mrs. Park hadn't intended on being back at the house past midnight. But, how were they supposed to know the company gathering would be such a blast!

The event had the women interacting, mingling, dancing, singing with every single one of their coworkers until around 11:30 PM! And that was only because the event was over around then, they surely still had some more juice in their system.

By the time the two arrived back at your house, they'd been laughing hysterically to one another, unbeknownst to the absolute chaos that had ensued just hours earlier.

Your mother unlocks the door with her keys, and as they swing it open, they're met with a surprising scene in front of them.

Sunghoon, all wide awake, and sitting on the couch by his lonesome. The T.V is there to keep him entertained, but other than that, there were no signs that you were around. As Mrs. Park goes to greet her son, your mother stares at the boy with worried eyes.

"Oh, Sunghoon. Were you down here by yourself this whole time? Did Y/N not come down?" She walks up to him, though is quickly mollified when he's giving her a small smile.

"No, she did. We watched a film together, though half-way through it, she started to doze off. I had to carry her upstairs; she was so out of it." He nods softly at the end of his sentence and your mother reciprocates his delicate response.

It warms her heart to hear that you tried.

"Oh, Hoonie! I told you things would work itself out if you would just be nicer to the poor girl. You know how timid she can be." His mother pats at his shoulder, "Come on. Grab your shoes and I'll take us home."

"I'm happy you guys were able to have a nice night together." Your mother beams while walking alongside Sunghoon towards the front door, "Are you two okay now? Should I be expecting you back here more often?"

Sunghoon regards your mother, his own brain thinking at how to properly respond to that. It's not until he's slipped his shoes and coat on, and holding the door open for Mrs.Park to exit, before giving a proper answer.

"Yes, Miss, I believe we're just fine now.”

At the last second of his departure, his eyes catch sight of movement on the staircase. Having awoken from your slumber, you heard voices from downstairs and decided to investigate. Creeping around the top stairs, all you were met with was Sunghoon talking to your mother with one foot out the door.

You attempt to remain hidden behind the wall, waiting for him to leave. But, soon, you find his gaze moving slowly until it lands onto your face. He holds eye contact with you one last time, your stomach in knots from how compelling his essence is.

“I'll try to come back here more often," He steps his other foot outside as a faint grin overtakes his cheeks.

"I’ll make sure of it.”

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