#you can’t see it but there’s a bustle in the back too

[untilhiseyeheals]

Pretty Performer - Silco x fem!reader one shot

Warning: Smut. Shameless smut.

You opened the heavy wooden door to the bar and stepped cautiously into the warm, dimly lit room, already filled with people and bustling with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Taking in a deep breath you let it fall shut behind you, the sound of the heavy wood hitting the frame drowned out by the constant hum of voices and background music of the bar. You looked around, unsure if to just make yourself at home and prepare for your upcoming performance as this decision was justly taken from you by the grab of two nimble but strong hands that dragged you into the bar. “You came! I’m so excited! I had to beg beg beeeeeeg Silco to invite you to perform, you know, the bar doesn’t usually do live performances but I have been listening to your stuff alllll the time when I am tinkering and I just had to have you play here!”. Two long blue pigtails swung through the air as Jinx dragged you eagerly towards the little prepared stage in one corner of the room. A breath caught itself in your throat as you were well aware of what a dangerous environment you found yourself in, even with this situation being painted by a welcoming atmosphere, you couldn't help but feel a little on edge. “Thank you, Jinx. That really means a lot to me. I’m glad you like it. Hm… Is there any song in particular that you like? I can perform it for you, you know?” you managed a smile, thinking it's probably best to make as good an impression as possible with one of the most dangerous people around. She had already dragged you all the way over to the little makeshift stage as she whirled around to face you, eyes glowing with anticipation. “Animal Cannibal”, she exclaimed without a second thought and you smiled knowingly. Of course, one of the more, well, interesting songs. “Great choice. Will do!” you lifted your hand to your head and gave a joking salute as you turned to prepare the stage for your gig.

When the background music in the bar started to fade out and the lights dimmed, centring at the corner of the room you and Jinx found yourselves in, she jumped up onto the stage and grabbed the mic. “Hello and welcome everyone to The Last Drop’s first-ever live performance! No, we don’t care if you asked for this and we certainly won’t take any requests! Now lean back, lean forward, or to the side. Dance, stand, sit, drink, do whatever you want because you cannot stop what’s about to come! Give it up for (y/n)!” she shouted into the mic, twirling it around and pointing towards certain individuals that apparently had some sort of a reputation in the bar, as they gave a knowing smile and shrug before returning the attention to their glasses. She then jumped off the stage and joined the small crowd that assembled in front of the stage. Not much, by any means, but that only served to soothe your nerves that started to act up quite a bit. You couldn’t help but huff out a breath in disappointment as you let your eyes scan over the people in the crowd, not seeing him anywhere. Of course not! What were you thinking? It’s better he wasn’t here right now, the last thing you needed was the attention of arguably the most powerful and dangerous man of the Undercity on you. You took in a deep breath as the music started playing and decided to just go and get this over with.

So you started to sing. "I bite at the hand that feeds me. Slap at the face that eats me. Some kind of animal cannibal. Animal. Cannibal.” When the music started playing, the strain washed from your nerves and your muscles loosened from their tensed state. Your usual persona was swapped out to your on-stage persona, much more confident and slightly suggestive than your normal self. You can’t help it. You sang the song in a sultry voice, letting your hands roam your hips and down towards your legs as you scanned the room through half-lidded eyes. You didn’t catch him, too engulfed in your performance to notice the set of eyes that were glued to your form as you traced along the hem of your black dress. One eye blue and cold as the deep ocean, the other seemingly opposite a struggle of black and ember, like darkness fighting to engulf the flames of a smouldering fire. And he was watching you. Intently. Eyes never leaving you, he studied your movements, listening to your sultry song that you completely let yourself sink into. “How do I meet the strangest men? They always seem to find me.” How fitting. If only you knew that possibly the strangest man had become totally lost in your performance, in the way you seemed to ignore everything and everyone that existed in the world, becoming one with the song you performed and feeling the lyrics as if they were your own personal story.

That's what you were. A performer. So you opened your eyes, straightened up and let a dark, dangerous gaze skim through the first row of people looking back up at you as you sang the next words. “Who knows how some people turn to strange ones. Is it up to me to make them into dead ones?” a sickly grin spreading over your features as the last words left your tongue, hands raised to your neck, drawing a slow line once across as your tongue skims your teeth and licks over your sharp canines. You were looking dangerous, psychopathic, insane, for only as long as it fit the part of the song you were singing. A perfect performer. It was only between this verse and the upcoming last chorus you let your eyes wander further out, scanning the entirety of the room, eyes having become used to the glare of the lights that were turned onto you as your gaze fell on the man standing at the outer corner of the bar right next to the stairs up to the second story where the offices were located. You moved your head back from the microphone so as not to let the entire audience hear the sharp breath that you took in as you noticed his eyes locked attentively onto you, expression unreadable. He always had a certain look of anger, fury, and general disdain on him that made your skin tingle. As you studied his features a bit longer you noticed that this look was not the only thing you could see in his eyes. They were darker than usual, pupil dilated and fixed upon you, the grip on his glass unnecessarily strong as his knuckles turned white with the pressure he put on the poor object. He seemed like a predator stalking his prey and a set of strong goosebumps washed over your body as you realized with full force that in this scenario, you were the prey. It was a dangerous look that normally would have you avert your gaze and cower into the corner with the sheer force it seemed to emit. But not when you were on stage.

You drew in a final, long breath before it was time to finish the last chorus of the song, stepping closer to the microphone again, your eyes never leaving his. If anything, this drilling gaze of his only spurred you on in your performance. “I bite at the hand that feeds me.” you lift one of your hands from the microphone and bring it up to your mouth, slowly dragging it across your lower lip, opening your mouth and biting down hard as you show your teeth at the bite, letting your fingers slowly graze down your chin, dragging some saliva down your neck. “Slap at the face that eats me” Quickly you lift that hand and bring it swiftly down at your cheek, emitting a beautiful slap that reverberates through the room in the microphone. “Some kind of animal cannibal” Your hands continue their way around your neck and down to your collarbone, head leaned slightly to the side, eyes half-open again. “Animal? Cannibal.” You continue your sinful performance until the last note of the backing track has rung out through the room. Only then do you fully open your eyes and stand up straight again, looking over to the spot at the end of the bar. Empty. You huff in frustration and … disappointment? as you take a step back from the microphone and give the audience a dramatic bow.

Jinx was jumping up and down in excitement, dragging you off the stage the second you stopped your bowing and the light in the bar returned to its normal state, background music resuming more quietly. “That was AMAZING! It was EVEN BETTER than hearing it on my big boom boxes over and over again and that’s honestly saying something!”. You found it hard to keep up with her rambling, smiling courtly and nodding along so as not to infuriate the girl you just made so happy with your performance. Although you wished you had made someone else that happy. Your eyes scan through the bar, desperately looking for the enchanting set of eyes that so drilled through you just minutes ago. You couldn’t find him. Defeated you made your way over to the bar and plopped down on one of the barstools, gesturing to the bartender for a drink. Only it’s not a drink that hit the wood of the counter in front of you, but a similar little envelope to the one that fluttered into your room only days ago. You felt your heart stumble in your chest as your shaking hands picked up the paper, nails slicing through the envelope and trembling fingers unfolded the paper inside of it. You read faster than your eyes can manage, stumbling over the words on the page that turned out to be very few, and very direct. Upstairs. Second door to the right. Now. – S. In any other state, you would have chuckled over the way he signed the note as if it wasn’t painfully obvious who it was from. You knew better than to go into that office, what if was a trap? You dared to lay your eyes on him, lost in your performance, you were … lewd, desperate, horny. While your mind was still listing off the unholy effects his mere gaze had on your poor body, your legs already hit the ground and you made your way up the stairs before you could even realize what you had done, your hands knocked against the wood of the office door. “Come in”. A low, rumbling voice beckoned you inside. You took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping inside the office.

You weren’t prepared for what you would find inside. Your eyes instinctively went to his big desk that stood in front of a beautiful big stained glass window, letting in the faint glow of street lights from outside that tinted the room into a hazy shade of green. However, you were surprised to find the chair in front of the desk to be empty. Confused you furrowed your brows as that dangerous voice made itself heard again. “That was quite the performance you put on there. I can see why Jinx took a liking to your… music.” You traced the origin of the voice to the opposite side of the room and your breath hitched as your eyes fell upon the slim figure of Silco sitting on a low plush chaise lounge, legs spread, cigar in hand and those damned eyes locked straight onto you. You felt like you walked straight into the cave of a bear, deep into the mountains, stupid little bunny hopping straight forward into its demise. You couldn’t help the deep blush that spread across your features at the small compliment. If it was a compliment at all, with him anything sounded like a threat. Just as you opened your mouth to thank him, he cut you off with a simple demand. “Come here.”, his voice was low, eyes never leaving you as you made your way over to where he was sitting, unsure where to start or stop or what to do.

Your mind was hazy, his damn smug grin as you got closer and closer drowning out every strand of thought your brain tried to form. It was to no avail. As you came to a halt in front of the lounge, he sat up and leaned forward to a little couch table with an ashtray and two glasses of liquor, pressing the cigar into the tray and taking up one of the glasses, not bothering to offer you the other as he let himself fall back onto the backrest. His eyes studied you intently, you could feel his gaze wander up and down your form and how the little black dress accentuated each and every one of your curves before it ended, making way for equally black stockings, held up by garters in the shape of a heart. Like a perfect little black dress is supposed to, it showed almost a little too much cleavage to be comfortable, eyes drawn to the necklaces around your neck that almost beckoned the gaze towards your chest. You forced yourself to take deep, steady breaths but your body failed you as he took a swig of his drink and set it back onto the table, hinting with a jerk of his head to come sit next to him. You obliged wordlessly.

That’s when you realised you hadn’t even spoken a single word since you entered his office, the air thick with tension which you hoped was sexual nature and he wasn’t going to end your life right here. Hell, not before making it worth it. He seemed to have picked up on your dilemma, offering you a smug grin as he finally broke the agonising silence. “What happened? Swallowed your tongue?”, his eyes skimmed over your face, taking in the effect that his voice had on you, “Pity. Your performance almost made you seem interesting.” Bastard, you thought before you took up all the courage that was left in you, riding the high that was left from your performance and the reminder of how his eyes practically ate you up. In one quick, swift motion you turned towards him, throwing one leg over his and placing yourself over him, knees to the left and right of his, straddling his lap. That earned you a low, dangerous chuckle, as his eyes started at your necklaces dangling in front of him, skimmed over your chest, you swore they lingered there for a quick second, before coming to rest once again on your face. Heterochome eyes locked with yours, and there it was again, this undiscernible look that only hinted at the fire festering behind those eyes. He kept a cool and collected front, always, if he wasn’t seething in anger and exploding like a volcano he was just quiet and very laid back. That was a front. Dangerous one. You, however, were determined to weasel your way through the cracks that you saw forming in his foundation and he let you.

You carefully lifted your hands from your sides and skimmed the collar of his vest, toying with his tie and carefully loosening it a bit. A low rumble came from his chest as his arm was quick to catch yours and pin them down in your lap, holding your hands by their wrists with only one hand and a very, very strong grip. “Tsk tsk tsk…” he scolded as he used the leverage he had over you to push yourself off him to the side, never letting go of your wrists. “Seems like my eyes didn’t deceive me then. You’re a feisty one. I can appreciate that.” Well, it was fun while it lasted, you thought as he pushed you off him and took that as a sign that this night was not going to go your way. “What I cannot appreciate, however,” he continued, voice low and scolding as he used his second hand to fully undo the tie you so carelessly loosened before and bring it over to your wrists. “is someone acting so incredibly unduly in front of all of Zaun.” With that, he quickly wrapped the string of the undone tie around your wrists and tied them together in a strong knot, not being gentle and making sure it was tight. “Looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson on how to behave.” he finished, letting go of your tied arms and letting them drop into your lap again.

“Lean back.”, he ordered and you were in no position to disobey, leaning back on the plush velvet of the lounge, resting your back against the backrest. With a small, approving nod he slid off the lounge from beside you and stood up, bending down towards you. He seemed to be taking in the sight of you, breathing already shallow and ragged from anticipation, anxiously biting your lip, hands tied together by his tie, looking up at him with big eyes that gave no hint of opposition. Just how he liked it. “There. I had a feeling you’d be a quick learner.” he cooed as his bent-down form started to come closer to you until his head was right next to yours, breath warm and tickling your ear. “So pretty and willing, all tied up and submissive it’s almost a shame having to ruin you.” he whispered in your ear, voice low and gravelly, lips just barely grazing your ear. You couldn’t stop the desperate whine that left your mouth, which made his eyes flick towards yours as he slowly leaned back away from you. “Patience.” was all he said, as his long fingers found the soft flesh of your thighs, tracing a line up and down and along the heart-shaped garters. You sucked in a breath, skin tingling at the touch you waited so long for. His hands made their way, slow, oh so painfully slow, up your thighs under your dress, skimming the band of your cotton panties that had a little lace rim on top which his fingers quickly found. You could tell he thoroughly enjoyed feeling up every inch of you, making you wait forever and ever, each touch feeling so painfully slow that you wished you could just grab his hand and drag it directly to your aching clit. He was revelling in your desperation, eyes closely on yours as he observed each subtle change of your facial features as his hands roamed your body. Then he pulled back his hand from under your dress, making you wince at the sudden loss of contact. He smirked a devilish little smirk as he straightened up and sat back down next to you, picking up the glass with liquor as he watched your slumped-down form, already so messy and dishevelled from this little touch. “Stand up.” he ordered, placing the glass at his lips and taking a swig. You rolled your eyes. What was this supposed to be? Did he order you up here only to make you stand up and sit down and turn around like a little puppy? You weren’t having it. With one swift motion, you stood back up on your feet and made a step towards the door of the office.

Suddenly you could feel yourself getting yanked back hard and crashing into his tall frame. He was just sitting there with a glass in his goddamn hand, how did he manage to pull you back so fast? You could only hear a dangerous, low chuckle as you turned your head to look directly into his eyes. Now they really seemed like they were set ablaze. “Thank you, pet. I thought you weren’t gonna put up a fight at all.” his voice was barely a snarl, a sickly grin spreading over his face. Sick bastard. He didn’t want you to silently obey him, he picked you out because you seemed like you had a fire within you, so different from all the mindless idiots he was left to deal with every day. And finally, he got a glimpse of it. Before you knew it, he had lifted your tied hands above his head so that they came back down around his neck, which left you straining with no way to move, your bodies almost pinned together. That’s when his smug grin was instantly washed from his face as you closed the difference and started planting sinful kisses along his jawline, trailing them up towards his ear and down his neck. Your tongue slipped through, you licked your way along his neck, kissing, sucking, tired of this game he wanted to play. You could feel his head snap back as his own arms snaked around your waist and found your ass, cupping your cheeks with his hands and giving them a squeeze. That elicited a husky moan from you, spilling from your lips between the sounds of sucking and kissing the skin of his neck. He maneuvered you back towards the lounge and when you could feel it against the back of your shins he stopped, releasing your ass from his grasp to free your tied hands from behind his neck. Taking a step back which meant you had to stop your assault on his neck, he smirked as he undid the knot around your wrists, tie discarded to the floor in one swift motion. That, however, didn’t mean he allowed you any more control than he wanted to. “Strip.” he ordered, and you were only too happy to oblige.

Your hands found the straps of your dress and slid them down your shoulders, leaving it to pool on the floor. He once again started looking you up and down, although your undergarments were nothing too special since you favoured comfort over looks and, well, you didn’t count on anyone seeing those today. He took a step towards you, piercing gaze never leaving you, as his arms came around your back to unclasp your bra, fingers pushing it off your shoulders to join your dress on the floor. “Magnificent,” he murmured, as he took another step to close the distance between your bodies and started returning the favour of kissing your neck, hands finding your breasts and cupping them. You let out a soft moan, to which he responded with his fingers finding your hardened nipples, flicking and toying with them as his mouth slowly made its way down your neck to your collarbone. Again, he seemed to find special pleasure in making the process painfully slow, dragging out the moment as long as he possibly could, before the warmth of his mouth finally found one of your nipples. His tongue swirled in circles around the hardened bud of your nipple, teeth grazing it ever so gently before he decided he was gentle enough and took it between his teeth. “F-Fuck…” you moaned, hands darting forward to find his perfectly slicked back hair, burying your fingers between its strands, dragging your nails over his scalp. This led to him letting out a grunt against your nipple, sending a jolt through your body that settled right in that ever-tightening coil in your core.

Seemingly feeling this jolt, he let go of your nipple, guiding you to lay down on the lounge, joining you by crawling his way up, pushing your legs apart. You sucked in a breath in anticipation, as his hands found the waistband of your panties, dragging them painfully slowly down your legs and discarding them on the floor next to the lounge. He began kissing his way up the inside of your thighs, getting dangerously close to the wet mess he made of your cunt. Enjoying every second of this juicy anticipation, his mouth made its way all the way up to your upper thigh, directly next to your dripping cunt, nose skimming your folds for just a second, already enough to make you buck your hips involuntarily. He chuckled lowly against the soft flesh of your thigh. “My, my…” he trailed off and suddenly his head turned from the side of your inner thigh and the next thing you felt was his tongue licking slowly up your folds. You bucked your hips again, arms darting back to find his head again, getting a handful of his hair, destroying what was left of its slicked-back state. He ate you out like it was what he was destined to do, tongue swirling in circles around your clit, toying with the willing hole and slurping up all the delicious juices that you had for him. That’s when he felt like that wasn’t enough, and while his eyes flicked up to catch your reaction, two of his fingers joined his tongue. You threw your head back, muttering and moaning a string of words that loosely resembled his name as he slid his fingers into you. They met with no resistance as he pushed them in all the way, curling them up to hit that sweet, sweet spot that almost made you scream his name had you not turned your head and bit your lip. His mouth left your aching clit while his fingers kept relentlessly pumping into you, lifting his head to watch you squirm and hold back noises. “Come on, let me hear you.” he growled, as he once again curled his fingers right where you needed them and thrust them into you. “F-Fuck. Silco. Your fingers feel so good. I’m… I-... S… So close” you muttered against the side of the lounge, breath ragged and speaking made hard by the continuous assault of his fingers that felt like knocking all the air out of your lungs. That only seemed to spur him on more. “Good. Come on my hand for me.”, he ordered and slipped in a third finger, curling them once again, one last thrust sending you over the edge and bringing the knot in your stomach to explode. “Yes… S-Silco!”, you almost chanted his name like a prayer as the feeling of sweet release washed over you, making your vision blurry and your head fuzzy. His hands slowed down their movements, letting you ride it out as you bucked your hips lazily against his hand until he withdrew it.

You carefully opened your eyes and the knot in your stomach began to churn anew as you took in the sight before you. Silco had straightened up on the lounge, still between your thighs, vest slightly agape for a lack of tie, hair dishevelled with strands falling into his face. His face, gods, his face. It was flushed from the heat, his sweat mixing with your juices that coated his nose and mouth and that bastard was grinning as he took the fingers that were just inside you to his mouth, licking them clean of your remnants. You were determined to wipe the grin from his face once again as you tried to use your elbows to prop yourself up and get yourself into a halfway seated position resting on your palms. Well, you made it halfway from the elbow stance to the palms as your arms remembered they felt like jelly and gave up on you, leaving you plopping back onto the velvet cushions of the lounge with the back of your head. Silco watched this and chuckled. “Dear, don’t overestimate your strength. Give yourself a moment.” You didn’t want a moment. As you set to try your endeavours a second time, he suddenly bent back down over you, his arms resting on either side of your chest, face flush to yours. “I said, give it a moment,” he warned, voice low and dangerous again, a glint shimmering through his eyes. You shook your head and decided that if your arms could not support you to steady yourself, you might as well use them to pull him in.

Easier said than done, you lifted your arms and dropped them behind his neck, hands gripping the fabric of his vest on the shoulders. He let out another chuckle and shakes his head. “You won’t let go, hm?”, he cooed as he brought his face closer to yours. He hasn’t kissed you yet. You hadn’t dared to- this didn’t seem like a situation… You couldn’t finish your thought before his lips found yours, hungry, devouring you, tongue pushing its way into your mouth. He didn’t need to ask permission or wait, be gentle, or anything. And he knew. You moaned into the kiss as you felt his tongue twirling with yours, pushing hungrily into your mouth, determined to explore it in its entirety. Even though the kiss was drenched in desire and want, it almost felt a tinge gentle. You were sure you imagined that part. The knot in your stomach tightened at the feeling, itching to be released anew. “S-Silco… Please….”, was all you managed to pathetically wince out between kisses. He broke the kiss and leaned back a bit. There it was again, this grin. “What is it? Use your words, dear.” he spoke, voice dripping with sarcasm. You looked back up at him with the most longing and pathetic look you had in you and said “Please… Fuck me.”

That was all he needed, hands quick to unbutton his pants and sliding them down just enough to free the length of his hard cock that surely was similarly aching to be freed like the knot in your stomach. He was already dripping precum which made you a little proud of yourself, seeing that all this mess hadn’t just affected you. He was human after all. You didn't have a lot of time to revel in that thought though, as he quickly came back down towards you, tip of his cock hitting your aching clit. You winced and at this point, you didn’t care how you sounded anymore. “Please, please Silco”, all you could do was whimper his name in pleas to end your suffering and finally fuck you. He seemed to enjoy that most as he took his sweet time, dragging his tip through your folds, playing with your clit, lining himself up only to let it glide upwards between you again. You had enough. Determined you bucked your hips against him as he toyed with you once again, pulling him in just enough so his head was entering you.

He hissed, seemingly pissed off for just a second before the feeling of your cunt around him soothed all his anger and he couldn’t help but fully push himself inside you. You gasped, and let out an unholy animalistic noise as your hands tried to grasp onto the velvet of the lounge in support. That did it, the last part of resolve he had in him was crumbling at that unruly noise you just let out. He was relentless, quick-paced thrusts deep into you, losing himself in the way your walls clenched around him. Your hands, not finding any support with the lounge, latched onto his shoulders and dragged down his back, nails leaving marks in their wake. The noises he made were impossible to describe and even more impossible to endure. Your own were similarly unruly, you simply didn’t care anymore. There was no way you were withstanding this long, as you could feel your release inching closer and closer. He could feel it too, your walls clenching around him as he bottomed out into you, thrust after thrust, again and again. “S..Silco.. I’m.. I’m gonna..”, you tried your best to form any semblance of words as you felt yourself approaching the edge. One of his hands found your clit, fingers circling over it as he kept fucking you at a relentless pace. That did it and you felt yourself being thrown over the edge as the knot in your stomach exploded again making you clench uncontrollably around his cock. His breathing grew more ragged, thrusts sloppy and losing their rhythm as he fucked you through your high and chased his own. Just as he started to twitch he pulled out and spilt himself all over your stomach, panting heavily, letting out more of these groans and sounds that you would for sure hear in your head for days to come.

He remained hovering over you for a second, lazily stroking himself before getting up and grabbing a box of tissues off the nearby table. You thought he would take a few and toss you the box or something, but he cleaned himself up at the table, discarding the used tissues and heading back over to you with the rest. He sat down on the lounge in front of you, taking one tissue after the other, gently wiping his cum from your stomach and discarding the used tissues… well, into the general direction of the waste bin. You studied his face as he did so, usually furrowed brows relaxed and eyes steadily fixed on his task at hand. For how relentlessly he fucks, kills and acts otherwise he was being… gentle?

[alwayssassydreamer]

Song #3

Song Prompt Challenge

If you cried out for more If you reached out for me I would run into the storm Just to keep you here with me

Warnings: none

Characters: Shanks x GnReader

It started like it always did with Shanks: a laugh, a drink, and that irresistible smirk that made it impossible to stay mad at him for long.

He had an uncanny ability to turn the most serious moments into a joke, disarming you with his charm and leaving you wondering how you’d fallen for him so hard.

Tonight was no different.

The Red-Haired Pirates had docked in a small, lively port town, the kind that catered to sailors and adventurers. The tavern was bustling, music and laughter filling the air.

You had tried to stay at the edge of the chaos, nursing your drink and pretending you weren’t scanning the room for that telltale shock of red hair.

But, of course, Shanks found you first.

“Hey there,” he greeted, sliding into the seat across from you with a grin that could melt steel. “Fancy seeing you here. Or did you miss me too much to stay away?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Shanks. I just happen to like this tavern.”

“Sure you do,” he teased, leaning back in his chair with that easy confidence. “And I just happen to like this table. Funny how life works, huh?”

You shook your head, unable to stop the laugh that escaped.

“You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” he said, winking.It was maddening how easily he got under your skin.

But that was Shanks—carefree and irreverent, yet somehow always knowing exactly what to say to keep you from walking away.

As the night wore on, the two of you fell into the familiar rhythm of banter and stolen glances. Shanks was the life of the tavern, telling exaggerated stories and coaxing laughter from even the grumpiest patrons. Yet, despite the crowd, his attention never strayed far from you.

At some point, the conversation turned quieter, more intimate. The rowdy atmosphere of the tavern seemed to fade into the background as Shanks leaned across the table, his gaze locking onto yours.

“You know,” he said softly, “I’d do anything for you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his tone.

“Don’t start getting all sentimental on me now, Shanks,” you joked, though your voice wavered slightly.

“I’m serious,” he insisted, his smile softening. “If you cried out for more, if you reached out for me—I’d run into the storm just to keep you here with me.”

Your breath hitched at his words, the weight of them settling over you. Shanks wasn’t the type to make grand declarations, but when he did, you knew he meant every word.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “You’ve got this way of grounding me, of reminding me what’s really important. And I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you.”

For once, you didn’t have a clever retort. Instead, you reached across the table, your hand brushing against his.

“You’re not going to lose me, Shanks,” you said firmly. “But you’ve got to promise me something.”

“Anything,” he said without hesitation.

“Promise me you won’t get yourself killed trying to prove something,” you said, your voice tinged with both affection and exasperation.

He chuckled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Can’t make any promises there, sweetheart. But I’ll always come back to you. That much, I swear.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile crept onto your lips.

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” he said with a grin.Shanks stood, pulling you to your feet with him.

“Come on,” he said, his tone lighter now. “Let’s get some air. I need a break from all this noise, and I think you do too.”

As he led you out of the tavern and into the cool night, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm settle over you. With Shanks, life was unpredictable and chaotic, but it was also full of moments like this—moments where the world seemed to stand still, leaving just the two of you.

And as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close, you realized you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

[cyripticchronicler]

The Things Unseen - Part 2

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: Words were powerful and Remus knew it well. After weeks of sending meaningful poems to each other, you're finally ready to talk to the man who’s saved you in person.

TW: Reader has bad mental health, kissing, Remus also having bad mental health

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to post, I got back into my Sims phase. Luckily, Happy Feet got me out of my writing slump (Yippiee). Thank you @amatoanima and @mayuwolfstar for asking to be tagged. Your support means a lot <3

Part One

Masterlist

You had been pacing so much that you were scared you were going to burn a hole in the worn carpet. “I shouldn’t do this. This is so dumb,” Your hands shake at your side as you fiddle with the parchment in your hand.

Lily, who's been watching you with an amused eye as you freak out, stands up from her spot on your bed and rests her hands on your shoulders, successfully preventing you from moving. You had told her everything; the letters, your not-so-little crush on Remus and how he’d been helping you. After a momentary shock, she helped you write the letter you’re going to give him.

Said letter now rests in your hand, scrunched tightly in your fist and you debate whether or not you should rip it up. You don't; you want him to know that you know - you want to form a connection with the man who has helped you in so many ways.

I see the lines between the lines,

The words you wove, so well-disguised.

A gentle hand, a softer heart—

How long have you been cast as “part”?

Your words have lingered, light and near,

Yet now they’re clear—I know you’re here.

You leave these notes in shadowed halls,

Your voice a whisper, your steps a call.

So meet me where the willow bends,

By moon’s first light, when evening ends.

Let masks fall off, let secrets end,

And let me greet the poet, friend.

“Don’t stress, it’ll all be okay,” Lily mutters, taking the parchment from your hands and tucking it into a random book on your nightstand. “If he’s been sending you these notes then it’s obvious he wants to talk to you! Just give it a go.” You stare at her for a moment and chew your lip in contemplation.

She pressures you with another look and you roll your eyes, yanking the book from her grip and hurrying downstairs to go to the library.

⋆˙⟡🪶─ .✦📜⊹₊ ݁.

The library bustles with students, despite it being the weekend. The room is thick with tension, the upcoming OWL making everyone stressed.

You hope Remus is here; you can’t imagine him being anywhere else because he only visits Hogsmeade when with friends. James is with Lily and Sirius is in detention, leaving Remus alone and hopefully in the library.

You scan the well-lit room, eyes narrowing as they land on the man you’ve been looking for. He sits at a table in the corner, head down and shoulders hunched while he works.

His hand furiously scribbles in a notepad while he reads from the textbook beside it- seemingly doing schoolwork. Your stomach twists anxiously, creating a sickening dizziness that travels up your throat.

You begin to shake your arms out beside you in an attempt to rid yourself of your nerves, but after receiving a cruel, judging look from a random person walking by, you fist your hands together and wrap your arms around your stomach.

With your nails scratching at any skin they can reach, your feet move and create slow, shaking steps toward Remus. He’s clueless-too caught up in school work to notice your shaking body getting closer.

It’s only when you reach the table, thighs hitting the rounded edge, do you speak. “Hey.” Your voice is a desperate whisper and is too quiet to snap Remus out of his working headspace as he shows no acknowledgement of you standing there.

You take a deep breath and speak louder. “Hey.” You cringe at the loudness of your voice, having talked too loud and captured the attention of the students at the next table.

Remus finally looks up from his book, his calm eyes and posture turning into one of panic as he recognises it's you. The way he sputters and the red flames on his cheeks is adorable and you can’t help but melt, shoulders slumping slightly.

After seconds of awkward silence and Remus opening and closing his mouth like a fish, he finally pauses and takes a deep breath, recollecting himself. “Hi,” he finally mutters, voice breathless.

It’s flattering, how much you seem to affect him. He’s never acted like this around you before- yet again, you’ve never randomly visited him before. However, you decide to blame his shortness of breath on a potential panic attack due to him not understanding the work he was doing. Sure. That seems probable.

Smiling through your awkwardness, your shaking hand slowly reaches into the bag slung on your shoulder and pulls out a worn book. His shimmering, caramel eyes track the book that’s clasped tightly in your grip. You're too scared to give it to him. Too scared to see what happens next because what’s been happening has been good. So good.

He gulps- a nervous tic that you don’t miss. His nervousness gives you enough courage to finally speak again. “I-,” you shake your head, hair falling in front of your face and shielding your pink cheeks, “I want you to have this. The, uh, note is on the first page and in case you don’t understand what I’m trying to say-not that I’m calling you dumb or anything, you’re literally smarter than me-“ you swear lightly under your breath, annoyed at your rambling. You carelessly drop the book on the table and rub a hand down your face.

“I’m inviting you to hang out with me. By the weeping willow-“

“When evening ends. After dinner?” Too preoccupied with trying to get out of the embarrassing hole you dug yourself, you failed to notice Remus pick up the book and read the note. You nod quietly.

He now sits there with a goofy sort of smile and a lighter pink to his cheeks. He seems calmer, and more relaxed. You don’t know if you should be scared or not; you can barely handle a shy Remus, how will you deal with a confident one?

“I’ll be there. Of course, I will.” He smiles brightly, glowing with glee. “Don’t feel like you need to hang out with me because I wrote you poems- I purely wrote them to cheer you up. I had no expectations for what would come out of it, besides your happiness.”

“I want to get to know you better, Remus. You’ve helped me a lot more than you could have ever possibly imagined. Let me thank you and maybe learn more about your shadows and scars.”

You find confidence in the sparkle that shimmers in his warm eyes and use it to throw a wink his way before hurrying to the door. You pray you don’t trip over your own two feet because, if the goosebumps appearing on your back are any indication, you get the feeling Remus is watching you leave.

⋆˙⟡🪶─ .✦📜⊹₊ ݁.

Is it embarrassing to admit that you rushed through dinner? And by rushed you mean, you gave your tongue third-degree burns from how hot the food was and choked from the amount of food you were shoving down your throat.

The only reason why you slowed down was because Remus was watching you from further down the table all night. Every time you tried to sneak a peek at him, he was already looking at you. And every time it caused you to blush fiercely and seek out your drink because your mouth suddenly got dry.

He’s never had such an effect on you before. Sure, you couldn’t look him in the eye or hold a long conversation with him, but now you’re so unbelievably infatuated with him and the way he cares for you without being asked to. He knows your deepest secrets and your vulnerabilities, and it scares you.

Standing up from your spot at the long, wooden table, the hall still rings with the loud voices of students, but you want nothing more than to leave. You don’t bother waiting for dessert, even if the cupcakes look scrumptious. Instead, you begin to head towards the whomping willow. It's earlier than you and Remus planned but you’re prepared to wait.

Rabbits frolic through fields and the hiding sun paints you a warm, orange glow as you walk, eyes trained on everything and anything. The school grounds are quiet due to dinner still being on, though you spot some stragglers on your way.

You let the short walk calm you down. The chill air sends goosebumps down your arms yet you welcome the feeling as you're feeling dangerously hot. By the time your eyes land on the twirly roots of the tree, your heart rate has slowed down and you’re able to pull more air into your lungs.

Making sure you don’t get too close to the murderous tree, you take a seat on the ground and draw your legs up to your chest. Silence envelopes you, not even the crickets keeping you company tonight.

Your surroundings don’t stay silent for long as the sound of leaves shuffling fills the stillness not five minutes later. You hurry to stand up, unsure if the intruder is Remus since it’s earlier than you specified.

You quite literally jump when you realise it is Remus, his scarred figure emerging from behind a tree. He chuckles at the scared look on your face, his voice of honey reaching your ears. “Sorry if I scared you. And if I showed up too early,” he walks over to you before plopping himself down on the ground in front of you, careful not to drop the cupcakes in his hands.

You follow his lead and sit across from him, legs crisscrossed with your knees gently touching his. “It’s okay, I just didn’t expect you to be here this early.” He tilts his head and smiles, brown eyes a shade of gold in the fading sunlight. “I saw you leave the hall early and I wanted to see you as soon as possible so I left early, too.” Unaware of the blush that coats your cheeks, he gently places a cupcake in your hand. “You also missed dessert-which was insane, might I add, so I brought you your favourite.”

“Thank you, Remus. You didn’t have to.” His eyes are genuine and kind, staring right back into yours. “But I wanted to.” To hide the squeal that’s begging to break out of your throat, you take a bite of the cupcake in your hand, trying to not devour it like you would if you were alone.

He takes a bite of his own cupcake, humming in enthusiasm. For a couple of seconds, it’s just silence as you both eat your cupcakes. Due to the silence, your mind races, your eyebrows furrowing when a question pops into your head. His eyebrows lift in question at your furrowed brows and you finish your cupcake before answering.

“How did you know cupcakes were my favourite?” Gone was the confident Remus you were eating cupcakes with, replaced with a more bashful one. He shyly licks the icing off of his finger before scratching his eyebrow and avoiding your eyes.

“I-uh-“ he takes a deep breath and clears his throat. “I’ve always been…interested in you? You’re quiet, always there for others and seemingly always happy. You have this way of captivating others, including me, and I just wanted to learn everything I could about you. In other words, I’ve been charmed with you for years now.” By the end of his speech, his words are a mere whisper and you wouldn’t have heard them if everything else weren’t so quiet.

He takes your silence, born from shock at the thought he liked you back, as one to be worried about and panics, forcing himself to look into your eyes and scoot away in case he makes you uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I know I’m creepy and a loser-“

“You scare the shit out of me,” you state honestly. His eyes flash with pain, laced with apology and he opens his mouth again -presumably to apologise-but you interrupt him before he can.

“You scare me because you know me so well,” he looks up, eyes still wary but now filled with hope, “when you gave me that first poem I was distancing myself from everyone. I was skipping classes because I was so tired. I missed out on dinner and breakfast because I had no appetite. And I thought I was okay, just stressed.” You fidget with a hair tie on your wrist, twisting and pulling. “You know me better than I know myself and it’s so scary.”

He pulls your hand away from your wrist and clasps it into his own. His grip is warm and gentle, loose enough to give you enough room to pull it away, but tight enough for you to feel the ridges of his scars in your palm.

“You scare me, too.” He states honestly, pulling at your hand so you finally look up at him. His jaw is clenched, a stray hair falling in front of his eye. He looks so handsome.

“Yeah?”

“Merlin yes,” he scoffs a laugh, “you have so much power over me. I would fall to my knees in front of you if you asked. I want to tell you about my past, and how I got these scars. I want to tell you my problems and my dreams. I want to open up to you, more than I have anyone else. And that scares me.”

You’re left breathless, heart in your throat as you try to battle away tears. “I want you to open up to me.” You mutter that first thing that comes to mind, unsure of what to say but wanting to say something.

He smiles sadly, “I’m not sure you’d like me much if I told you everything, though.” You shake your head immediately and tighten your grip on his hand. “There’s nothing you could say to me that would make me like you less.”

He nods his head at your words and lays down on his back. Before you could even blink, he’s pulling you down with him, your head resting on his chest and listening to his heart. By now the sun is gone, replaced by thousands of glittering stars that shimmer in your eyes.

“There’s this man, Fenir Greyback, and when I was four…” you cling to every word he says, knowing that whatever he says to you won’t change what you thought about him.

⋆˙⟡🪶─ .✦📜⊹₊ ݁.

Remus’ voice is raw from hours of speaking once he’s finished pouring his heart out. He holds his breath, ready for you to stand up and walk away at any moment.

He feels you pull away from him and has to bite back a pained cry. He knew you’d leave. That the truth would disgust you. Push you away-

The feeling of your warm and gentle lips on his has his thoughts racing away. A gentle palm moves to cup your cheek, calloused thumb stroking the soft skin ever so gently. Your quiet groan has him deepening the kiss, tongue mixing with yours.

You pull away ever so slightly, resting your forehead on his and opening your eyes. “I told you. I could never like you less.” His throat bobs with a mix of emotions. “Well then I guess we have each other now, don’t we?”

You smile. “I guess we do. Thank you.”

“What for, love?” You can feel his smile against your heated cheek as he rubs the side of his nose against your cheekbone lovingly. “For giving me those poems. They helped. A lot.”

“I guess that means I have to keep writing them for you, huh?”

“I’d like nothing more. I’ll make sure to write back.” You kiss him again, ready to get lost in his warm lips and kind hands. He’s yours and you are his.

[eastberlin]

Also look at what I get to wear!

[lavendertalks311]

Just a little something for husbands birthday, I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Fluff because I love husband Nanami. Female reader. Pregnant reader. Wife reader. Married reader. Not proofread whoopsies. Nanami x female reader.

———————————————————————————-

Being kento’s pregnant wife meant many things, including a private life. Not in a secretive manner, he just preferred to keep his life private and away from people’s noses. The less they knew about his loving and precious love, the better for both of you.

He’s attentive and devoted. When Kento is devoted to something, he is devoted. Every morning before work, he left a note either on the bedside table next to you, or in the kitchen counter with a heart, along with his pristine handwriting. He would leave a message letting you know he made breakfast or he’d write something cute for you.

‘I made breakfast for you and our little one. See you after work, darling.”

“My love, I already cannot wait for your embrace after work. See you then, much love.”

After the bustling hours of jujutsu, he’d make his way to a bakery near home to get your favorites. He never once complained or protested, bringing you happiness brought him happiness.

When you were watching tv with your light pink sundress, you heard the front door unlock, revealing the eyes of your ever so loving husband with his usual bag from the bakery in hand.

“Ken!” You called out, immediately rising the best you can to quickly waddle to your lover. When you reached to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your height as you kissed him gently. “Welcome home!”

He softly smiled, bringing his hands to your growing and swollen belly, softly feeling around it for any kicks as he looked over your form.

“Hello my darlings,” he placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the living room. “Come, love. Can’t have you walking with no socks or slippers now, hmm?”

He gently sat you down before placing your slippers on your feet and looked up at you. “Ken! The French toast this morning was amazing, baby and I loved it.”

“I’m glad, I’ll be sure to add that to our list of favorites, hmm?” He asked, grabbing hold of your hands and kissing them softly.

He’s so gentle with you, so loving, he never lets you do anything that’s too much for you to handle. Even going as far as helping you put your slippers on so you didn’t have to bend over to reach for them.

He’s a gentleman, making the bed extra comfortable for you and your little one before bed and leaving extra blankets and a glass of water on the bedtime table if needed overnight. Of course, every time you needed something, he did it without hesitation.

Like I said, when Kento is devoted, he is devoted.

———————————————————————————-

Super short but it’s something and I think it’s so cute.

[heesimp]

tasty (heeseung)

summary: it’s not your week and it doesn’t seem like the semester will ease up on you as time flies by, but your best friend is here to help in more ways than one.

word count: 5.6K

notes: based off of this request. thank you anon! I probably won’t open a taglist at this time but I’ll let you know if I do when I post other fics. XX

warnings: reader touches herself, porn mentions, vibrator mention, phone sex, oral (f. receiving), dirty talking, mentions of heeseung with other girls, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.

“You sure you don’t want to go out with us?” 

Your co-workers stare at you while you try to push down any simmer irritation. They’re not to blame, but pestering you to go out to a bar and get drunk when all you want to do is go home, is making you even more irritated. They mean no harm and look at you with sorry eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you tell them. Luckily for you, they nod and accept your decline. “Thanks for the invite though.”

“Well if you change your mind, you know where to find us.” 

In typical twenty-something-year-old fashion, certain days feel longer than most. Today is no exception. It’s hard to navigate the woes of landing on your feet when you’re wrapped up in midterm projects and trying to have a social life without throwing yourself off balance. When the semester started, you were nothing other than a happy-go-lucky, fourth-year university student who was excited to finish college and take the first step towards “real life.” Unfortunately for you, your days would get tough before you’d see it to the finish line. 

The ride back to your apartment isn’t long by any means but the traffic from your job at a convenience store was met with rush hour. The bus took much longer than usual but you always anticipate that when you’re scheduled until 5pm. Everybody’s going home at the same time and even public transportation falls victim to the hustle and bustle of corporate life. 

On your way home, you can’t help but linger on the inconveniences of the recent past. Midterms have snuck up on you like they do every year and no amount of studying into the night could ever prepare you for the stress that comes with obsessing over good grades for five separate classes. It kills you that no two tests weigh the same and preparing for projects feels like you’re signing a death sentence. You’ve barely seen your friends aside from in passing and haven’t had any time to take care of yourself and have fun. 

It feels as though you’ve lost all motivation because school and work has sucked the energy right out of you. Even your best friend, Lee Heeseung, has started to soften up around you because he can tell how stressed you are. If anything, the amount of unread texts from him and your absence in his physical life is a telltale sign that school is kicking your ass, but he knows you always bounce back. You know you will too, but right now it feels like it’ll take too long to get there. 

The first thing you do is take all of your clothes off and settle them in the dirty hamper and take a shower, cleaning off the grime from a long day outside of your bedroom. Your hair is clean and your skin feels silk to the touch when you step out and dry yourself. It takes a great deal of effort to follow through on your skincare routine and tidy up your room so that it doesn’t feel like an overwhelming mess the more you look at it. Today sucked. There’s no doubt about that. 

Eventually, the clock turns into a late hour after you’ve had dinner and a sweet treat to make up for the awfully long and boring day you had. The week drains on you and you’re looking forward to the weekend because that means you don’t have to work. After settling in bed with the television on, you try your best to let your worries escape you and focus on what’s in front of you. 

Whether the show is too boring or you’re too worked up, you don’t know. The TV is long forgotten as you aimlessly scroll through your phone and start pushing your thighs together and clench around absolutely nothing when you log into a Twitter account you don’t post on. It must be out of habit to act like this when you see the familiar username because it’s where you keep your porn stash for when you need to get off. There’s everything you could ever want–short videos, photos, and links to other websites that always gets you off. The long day has made you think about how you need at least a single win in order for this week to not completely suck. Bringing yourself to orgasm might be the way to do it. 

You spread your legs underneath the covers and take a finger to tease up your slit that’s covered by your panties and hold your phone in your free hand, using your thumb to scroll past the plethora of videos that turn you on. It’s all about finding the right one, and seeing big dicks and wet pussies makes you worked up. You start to forget about the week and consider that a good start. 

Moving your finger against your covered pussy always makes you wet. You imagine it’s someone else teasing you the way you like it and pretend you don’t need to move a muscle to get off. Swiping the tips of your fingers back and forth makes you soak through the pathetic fabric anyway, and the excitement of your arousal makes you gush right onto your panties. 

You scroll through them one by one and pull your panties to the side to feel just how wet you’ve become and moan quietly as the feeling of your slicked up walls. Pushing a finger inside, the welcomed sensation is exactly what you needed after a hard week. You add two, then three, and pump them in and out of you with your legs bent towards your chest. It should be an easy orgasm. 

Except, it isn’t. Three of your own fingers isn’t enough.

At this rate, you don’t know how long you’ve been rutting your hips but what you do know is that you can’t seem to get yourself off with just your fingers. Pulling them out makes you wince at the loss and you force yourself off of your bed to find your trusty vibrator that has always served you when you need to get off quickly. You dig for it in the depths of your drawers but, to your dismay, the device is uncharged. You’re far too worked up to wait for it to become usable. You crawl into your bed again and angrily look through your phone at the porn in your bookmarks and try to get yourself back to that state of euphoria when you started touching yourself, but knowing too much is bothering you is preventing you from letting go. 

Your room echoes as you groan in frustration when your eyes land on a photo on your desk. It’s a picture of you and Heeseung that Jay took when the three of you hung out together after you first moved into this apartment. The two of them helped move boxes and furniture, and you rewarded them with a free meal from the noodle shop across the street. Heeseung sits next to you with his thighs pressed against yours because of the small table but neither of you really cared. 

That’s the thing, though. Heeseung isn’t shy about physical touch with you or anyone else. He’s the kind of guy girls feel comfortable around with just a few words spoken and you’ve always envied the way Heeseung can talk his way through anything. People love him, girls want to fuck him, and guys want to be like him. There’s a part of you that wishes you could exude the same aura that your best friend does but, unlike him, you cower at any chance of interaction and can’t seem to get anyone to be interested in you the way you’re interested in them. Heeseung has heard your fair share of love debacles whereas it seems like romance is presented to him with the snap of a finger. 

It isn’t that you haven’t had experiences with sex and dating, but they haven’t been worthwhile. So far, nobody has been memorable enough to keep in your backpocket for days like this, when you need a hot and erotic memory to come in an instant. It feels impossible to find guys who know what they’re doing when a woman is presented in front of them. Guys are so lucky because it takes next to nothing to get them hard and get them off. 

And like, your best friend has had his fair share of hookup stories that leave you wetter than a goddamn fountain. He’s not shy about skimping the details because he’s seen you cry snot since kindergarten and you’ve seen him eat shit on bicycles since elementary school. Sex isn’t off the table. You just don’t have anything to contribute and he doesn’t judge you for it. You aren’t really keen on telling him about all of the bad experiences you’ve had when he talks about how mind blowing sex for him is. Part of you is envious that your best friend has never had one bad day of sex in his life. Allegedly. 

Still, this frustration bubbles up and there’s nothing you can do to quell the way you feel. Perhaps it’s a mix of general life stress and the events leading up to this very moment. The entire day felt like a test to your patience as minor inconveniences piled up on top of one another before your breaking point. You thought your vibrator sitting uncharged was your last straw but it seems like your mind isn’t clear enough to focus on getting off. You recall a few unread text messages from Heeseung and open your shared text thread with him and watch all of the funny TikTok videos and tweets he sends you. You’re missing him right now. 

Heeseung answers after one ring. 

“Back from the dead, I see. What’s up?” 

You huff. “Nothing.” You hear him laughing from the other line. The faint sound of his keyboard clicking echoes in your ears. 

“Can’t be nothing. You always call me when you need to tell me something.” 

“Not true.”

“Y/N, you and I both know you prefer to talk on the phone when you have something important you need to say so neither of us ends up sending long voice memos.” Okay, he’s got you there. “So begs the question: What’s up?”

“Well I called you because I’m bored. Happy?”

Heeseung laughs again. You’re sure he can hear your disdain. “It’s a good thing I know how to deal with your attitude, huh? Since you’re bored, I’ll have you know you’re calling me while I’m playing with the guys.”

“What, no girl to hook up with?” 

“Not tonight, princess.” 

“How sad.” 

“If you must know why, I had a pretty long day at work but I’m fine now. Jake’s ass keeps dying so that’s pretty funny.” You don’t say anything, not right away. Not when you realize you called him in a haste and that you’re naked except for a tank stop and dainty white socks. The realization makes your cheeks heat up as you think about it, even though Heeseung can’t see what you’re wearing. “You good? You’re unusually quiet, especially when you give me attitude.” That makes you roll your eyes.

“You know, it’s unfair that all you have to do to get off is brush your hand against your dick.”

“Where’s this coming from? You don’t really talk about sex. Is everything alright?”

“It’s unfair!” He hears you groan in frustration. You’re somewhat annoyed he’s still typing away on his gaming keyboard.

“Y/N…Are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”

That question alone seems to ease your mind a little as your irritation bubbles over the surface. You couldn’t stop yourself from talking even if you tried. You tell Heeseung everything, good and bad, and he won’t relent until he knows you’re okay. But even this is treading into new territory. It isn’t that you haven’t noticed just how attractive your best friend has gotten since you met him for the first time as kids, but it’s the first time you’ve ever acknowledged it while talking to him. 

“I can’t get myself off.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper. You don’t hear the sound of his keyboard anymore.

“What?”

“Heeseung…”

“No, say it again.” 

Suddenly, you’re starting to regret calling him to complain about something like this. You feel like you might as well be diving into the depths of your secrets.

“I can’t get myself off.” He hears you whisper it into the phone. 

“Did I hear you correct? You can’t get yourself off?” Heeseung curses under his breath and his hands have stopped typing on his keyboard completely. Frustration pushes tears to the rim of your eyes. 

“I can’t.” Your voice wavers like you’re about to choke a sob. “I just want to cum, Heeseung.”

You don’t see it, but he disconnects his video game connection without consulting his friends. He sits back in his seat and brings the phone off speaker mode and pushes it to his ear. “Y/N…Have you been touching yourself?”

“Yes. I don’t know why but I’m in this mental block and I can’t focus on anything. Nothing is helping.” 

He chokes. “What do you mean?”

“My vibrator is dead and I’ve been using three fingers but it’s not helping!” 

Heeseung sits quietly on the other line. “Are you touching yourself now?” 

“No,” you sigh. “I’ve been at it for an hour and I can’t finish.” 

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You must be so wet.” 

“Not anymore.” You say it through your teeth, too upset that your high has ebbed away.

“You should start touching yourself again.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Touch yourself and make your pussy all wet.” It’s concerning how much you like hearing your best friend talk to you like this. But you do, putting your phone on speaker and putting it on the mattress beneath you with your hand caressing your pussy. You don’t know if it’s you, Heeseung, or the notion that you’re crossing a bridge, but your spine starts to tingle. Your touch is as light as a feather.

“Are you doing it?” 

“Yeah,” you admit. 

“How does it feel?” 

“Really good…”

“How good?” 

“Feels like someone else is touching me,” you tell Heeseung. “If I close my eyes, I can pretend it’s someone else.”

“It’s not enough, is it?” 

“No, Hee. I just…I’m so frustrated.” 

“Yeah, baby?” He’ll address that nickname later. “Why are you frustrated?” 

“School and work are stressing me out and nobody in my group projects lifts a finger. I feel so alone in this.”

“But you aren’t alone. You have me, remember?” You get wetter the more he talks. It feels wrong to be turned on by Heeseung’s voice but you can't help it. He’s talking to you like he hears the way your voice quivers and how badly you need somebody to take away all of your pain, and perhaps you feel comforted because you know Heesueng will do just that and always had. Your fingers rub your wetness around your bare mound the more you think about it, pushing aside any guilt or awkwardness you initially felt.

“When have I ever not been there for you? Never, baby. Including this.” 

“This?” 

He chuckles. “Yeah. Helping you cum.” 

“Hee, don’t say that.” 

“Why? It’s true. Best friends help each other cum.” 

“How are you gonna help me do that?” 

It’s silent on the other line for a long pause and your heart starts to sink when you think you might’ve crossed a line. Is he uncomfortable? Does he want to hang up and forget about this? Will he ever look at you the same way after tonight? 

“Keep touching yourself. I’m coming over.” 

Your eyes widen. “N-Now?” 

“Yes, now. I live five minutes from you. I’ll be over soon.” 

The thought of Heeseung coming over makes you impossibly wet. It’s been so long since you’ve let anybody touch you the way you’d like after failed hook ups that left you unsatisfied. Your bedroom suddenly feels warmer and your arousal keeps your fingers slick the more you rub against your pussy. It makes your toes clench and you’re starting to get excited again. 

“Please hurry, Hee. My fingers are starting to get sore.” 

“I’ll be there in two. Don’t hang up.”

“F-Fuck,” you whimper silently. Heeseung’s phone picks up your moan and you hear him let out a low groan when he turns his engine on. 

“You have the sexiest moans. I wanna hear them while you get yourself off, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

You rub your pussy faster. “Yes, Hee. Fuck, I’m so wet. This feels so good.”

“Be a good baby and play with your clit a little for me, hm? Get her all nice and prepped.” 

You do as he says, moving the pads of your fingers in circular motions around your engorged nub when he tells you. Your eyes close shut when that jolt of pleasure makes your body jerk and arch off of the bed and that loud sound emitting from the back of your throat makes Heeseung hum in approval. 

“Juuust like that. Fuck, you sounds even better than I imagined. You’re a vocal one, huh?” 

“Only when it feels really good.”

“Yeah? Do you feel really good?” 

You lick your lips. “It would feel better if you were here.” Heeseung laughs. 

“I’m here and I’ve got your spare key. Keep fucking yourself for me.” 

The call ends there. You hear the door opening and part of you considers using your blanket to cover yourself up because in all of the years you’ve been friends with Heeseung, he has never seen you this indecent. It feels a bit humiliating to know your best friend will find you with your fingers rubbing against yourself while your hips chase that delicious pleasure but ultimately, you can’t find it in yourself to care too deeply about that. 

Heeseung’s footsteps alert you to his presence and you’re pleasantly surprised to see him standing in the threshold of your bedroom after he’s opened your doorknob. His black hair covers his eyes as he catches his breath, and it looks like he ran up the two floors just to get to your apartment quicker than an elevator could take him. He’s hesitant when he walks inside until his eyes lock with yours. Your next moan comes from deep within your chest and Heeseung wastes absolutely no time. 

He lands on his knees and pulls your body towards the edge of the bed. Your scent invades his olfactory senses as he looks down below you, pushing your feeble hand away to admire the mess you’ve made of yourself. It should feel embarrassing to have your best friend look at you like this, but it doesn’t. Your heart beats faster the more Heeseung’s eyes scan your wet pussy and before you know it, his mouth latches onto you. 

The feeling of someone’s tongue shoved deep within you is a feeling you haven’t experienced in a long time. Heeseung kneads your thighs with his hands as he keeps you in place and the pace he sets makes your body feel like it might as well be up in space. 

You hear stories all the time about Heeseung hooking up with other girls whether it be from himself or others. Girls love to pretend to be your friend to get close to him and love to talk about these kinds of things with you because they assume you’re getting in on the action too, only to leave the conversation perplexed when you tell them you and Heeseung have never gotten involved like that. But now, with every bit of information about how he slurps pussy like he needs it to live, you’re starting to wonder why you never asked him to do this before tonight. 

“Tasty,” he mutters after a beat of silence. Your hand comes to grip his hair for stability when he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks on it while rubbing his tongue against your pleasure point. “How come you never told me you taste so good?”

“You never asked.” 

He laughs against your pussy. “Still got some attitude, huh?” 

“What are you gonna do about it?” He looks up at you like he’s weighing a challenge. 

“If you were any other girl, I’d pull out every time you’re about to cum. I’d have you begging for that shit. If you were somebody else, I’d stuff your mouth with my cock until you learn how to obey.” He licks up your pussy once more before adding two of his fingers inside, moaning at your smooth and wet walls as he pumps them inside of you. “But you’re my best friend and you’ve had a hard week. I’m gonna make you cum.” 

If a thousand suns exploding feels like Heeseung’s tongue and fingers working in tandem with each other, then this is a feeling you never want to forget. They work separately but it feels like he’s pushing you closer and closer to the finish line the more he pays attention to your clit and g-spot at the same time, pressing on that little button the more you whine and aimlessly beg for him to let you cum. You can barely register your own voice moaning because the pressure is too much against your ears. Heeseung’s fingers plunge in and out of you at a pace that is somewhere between gentle and brutal, giving you enough force to take your mind off of the stress from the week to focus on your pussy being pleasured. 

You screw your eyes shut when you can feel that coil unraveling. Heeseung seems to notice that too because of the string of moans you let out when he pushes his fingers against your sweet spot. His mouth licks and licks as his hand pushes your wetness right against his tongue and it doesn’t take very long for him to taste your cum. 

Heeseung’s head disappears between your legs and he’s barely able to move his hand because of how tight your thighs are against his ears. He’s always loved your thighs and legs, and loves them even more now that he knows what it feels like when you suffocate him as he licks up your delicious cum. You ease up on him when he pries them away to free his hand from the uncomfortable position and uses both hands to keep your legs apart as he licks up the remnants of your cum and helps you ride out your orgasm until your chest falls against the mattress. 

He wipes the back of his hands before giving your slit a gentle kiss. “You’re so sexy when you cum.”

“I can’t believe I let you do that.” 

“Why?” 

You watch him crawl up your body between your spread legs. “Because…” 

“Because?” 

“You’re my best friend and we’ve seen each other through everything. Don’t you think this is a little, I don’t know, weird?” 

“No.” Heeseung shakes his head and dips below to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Not weird. In fact, I’d argue we should do this more often.”

You frown. “I don’t intend to be somebody you keep on a roster, Lee. You can keep that shit to yourself, but thank you for helping me cum.” Heeseung laughs against your mouth until you feel his lips ghost right over yours. 

“There won’t be other girls involved if we fuck, Y/N. I’m not heartless like that. Everybody else knows I’m in it for sex and nothing else, but it’s like you said. You’re my best friend. I won’t make you feel like you’re just somebody I can hit up.” 

“So this would be like…friends with benefits?” 

“We can work out the semantics later.” He lets his lips touch yours and when you don’t object, Heeseung opens your mouth with his own and you taste the saltiness of your cum on his lips. You clench around nothing when you hear your mouths smacking together in the quiet of your bedroom. 

It feels…good. It doesn’t feel out of place, even though this is the first time you’ve kissed Heeseung. You haven’t thought about it much either, but somehow his lips fit perfectly in yours and his soft hands holding your body in his adds to your arousal. You feel safe with him at this moment and it’s the first time you’ve ever had sex with somebody who hasn’t made you feel like an afterthought. Your mind feels a bit foggy but you know you like this feeling and don’t want him to stop. Still, you have your worries.

“This won’t be weird, will it?” 

“No, baby. In fact, all you had to do was ask me to drop the other girls and I would’ve.” You roll your eyes. 

“Sounds like you’re in love with me, or something.” 

Heeseung pulls away and smiles down at you. “Yeah. Or something.” You ignore the way your heart flutters and realize his bulge is poking your bare pussy. 

“You’re hard.” 

“So you’ve noticed.” 

You pinch his bicep. “You get hard eating pussy?” 

“Well yeah because it’s pussy, but it’s also you.” You start to talk but Heeseung silences you with a kiss. “Are you satisfied now that I’ve made you cum?” 

His vulgar words make you shy underneath his gaze all of a sudden. It’s a new feeling and you’re not quite sure how to navigate it, especially with the way he’s staring down at you with a raised eyebrow. Heeseung is still your best friend who gives you shit for everything. You suppose you’re grateful that he’s not changing who he is just because he knows what you look like naked. 

“You know what? Actually, I don’t think I’m satisfied.” 

Heeseung grins wickedly and pulls his body off of your chest to take his shirt off, his chiseled muscles on display for you to look at. He grabs your hand and places it on his abdomen. “Oh yeah? What else can I do for you, princess?”

You take your fingernails on his skin and feel his abs move beneath you. “I think I need you inside me too.”

“Were my mouth and fingers not enough?” You shake your head. Heeseung tuts as he gets off of the bed to step out of his pants and boxers, revealing a long and thick cock you’ve only ever heard about. It’s dripping with precum and you can’t stop your pussy from clenching or your mouth from drooling. 

You watch him get back on the bed one knee at a time before he’s hovering over you again, pulling your body to the position he wants as your legs spread before him. He looks down at his cock and tugs on it twice before letting his tip rest against your clit. 

“Need some of my cock?” 

“Yes, yes!”

“Who knew my best friend has such a tight pussy. Makes me wonder why I even bothered with other girls in the first place.” You seem to like hearing that. He brings his fingers to push the head of his cock inside of you before sinking halfway in, allowing you to adjust to his size as you squeeze him. “Oh yeah, honey. This pussy’s gonna make me cum hard, I already know that.” 

Heeseung holds your legs open and pushes his hips into you slowly. The drag feels so good with how warm he’s made you and you can feel him throbbing with every pass. You hold onto your breasts for stability, which seems to turn him on even more because he’s pushing your legs towards your chest and pushing into you with all of his might. 

You’re able to see him from where you lie. His eyebrows concentrate as he squeezes his eyes shut and sweat lines his forehead the more he thrusts inside of you. He sits up on his knees to angle his dick inside of you better and moans when you let out a strangled groan. The clench is so tight and amazing, and Heeseung can’t fathom why he’s never fucked you before tonight. 

“Sexy pussy,” he grunts, looking down at your abused hole as he thrusts into it. He brings his thumb to your clit and you yelp when he starts to rub it. “So wet and fuckable.” 

“Fuck me,” you manage to choke. 

And truthfully, you like Heeseung plowing into you at the pace he’s set. He’s not too fast but not too slow and you can feel him hit your cervix every single time. It’s no wonder girls were always lining up to have sex with him. Heeseung knows what he’s doing with his dick and you’re finding that out now. 

“You want me to fuck you?”

You nod pathetically. “Please fuck me.”

“How hard?” You bite your lip and shake your head at the humiliation of begging for him but Heeseung tuts and smacks your clit with his hand. “I said, how hard?”

“So hard that I feel you in my stomach!”

“Atta girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Heeseung slips out of you and pulls you up on your hands and knees, beckoning your back in a deep arch. He plants both of his feet on the mattress and bends until he’s sinking his cock back down inside of your pussy, letting your mixed wetness coat him again. 

He thrusts himself as his mouth hangs open. Heeseung grips your waist with both hands and squeezes you hard to balance himself as he throws his head back at the phenomenal sensation of your walls pulling him in every time he tries to pull out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel his balls against you and clutch into your bedsheets.

“Your balls are slapping against my pussy and it feels really good,” you manage to get out without stuttering. Heeseung feels you clench around him again and emphasizes his thrusts until the sound of his balls makes your ears vibrate. 

“Feels good when it hits your clit, doesn’t it?”

“So good, fuck!” 

Heeseung speeds his thrusts and relishes in your string of moans the more his tip nudges your g-spot. “Can you cum, baby? Cum around my cock like I know you want to. You’ve earned it after this week. Cum for me. Won’t you let me feel that?”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, Hee! I’m fucking cumming!”

“Yeahhh. Oh your cum is so good. Doing so well, making your pussy creamy all over me like that. Cum for me.”

And it feels so good that you follow his command. The orgasm Heeseung’s cock brings you feels like a physical manifestation of letting go of your worries and enjoying the present moment. Despite your legs and pussy aching, this feels an awful lot like freedom because your own mind isn’t caged by the inability to get yourself off. 

You don’t think, you can’t think. You’ve reached a point of nirvana that’s made your mind completely blank with the exception of your orgasm and the feeling of your best friend fucking right inside of you. His cock, so hard and warm, somehow feels so perfect lodged inside of you. 

Heeseung cock twitches and you feel it the more he pounds into you. He looks down and moans at the sight of his cock becoming white with your cum with every pointed thrust and doesn’t remember the last time he truly enjoyed himself to the point of being able to forget about everything except the person he’s with. Sex with other girls is incredible but there comes a point where he realizes that they’re using him just as much as he’s using them. But you, his best friend since he can remember, give him some kind of peace that he’s never felt before. This is more than just a quick fuck, even if neither of you address it.

“Your pussy’s gonna make me cum,” he moans through a choked grunt. “You feel so good baby, fuck.” 

Heeseung pulls out of your hole just enough to rest his tip against you. His warm cum floods against your folds and your body jerks at the way he twitches against you, but his hands keep hold of your hips to place you exactly where he wants you. He looks down to watch his cum spill from his slit and paint your pussy like the artwork that it is.

When he’s finished cumming, Heeseung leans back against his knees to spread you apart by gripping your asscheeks. “Would you look at that?” 

“Stop looking…”

He chuckles. “Why, baby? Your pussy’s so pretty with my cum on it.” 

You look back at him. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” He nods at you before pulling away to scour your room until he finds a box of tissues on your nightstand and grabs a few to clean you up to the best of his ability before cleaning himself up too. 

Overcome with a wave of tiredness, your body feels much more relaxed once you’ve slipped underneath the covers as Heeseung throws away the dirty tissues. He turns around when he hears the blankets ruffling and resists the urge to coo at you when you’ve tucked it underneath your chin. 

“Looks like you needed one good fuck to relax, hm?”

You blush. “Shut up.”

“No can do, Y/N.”

“I…”

Heeseung leans down towards you and tilts his head. “You what?”

You avert his gaze. “I liked it when you called me baby.” 

“Yeah?” He pushes some of your hair back as you yawn. “I can do that.” 

“Are you gonna go home?”

“Not if you let me stay the night.” You don't have it in you to talk back to him after all he’s done for you. Instead, you open the covers as Heeseung puts his boxers back on and watch him smile before climbing in next to you. “Come here.” He tucks your body on his chest and you’re too tired to argue with him. 

His heartbeat puts you to sleep.

tagging: @zara2318 @markmato @heechwe @horijiro @ggumjilgeong-yjn @porunarefuu @leov3rse. :)

[pucksandpower]

Seeing Color

Lando Norris x soulmate!Reader

Summary: the average person goes their whole life without seeing so much as a drop of color, so safe to say you’re quite surprised when the sky suddenly turns blue while you’re covering Formula 1 for the first time

The sky’s a muted gray, just like every other day of your life, as you stand in the bustling paddock of Silverstone, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach.

This isn’t what you signed up for. Football’s your thing — sweaty players, goals, and post-match interviews in rain-soaked stadiums. But motorsport? Formula 1? It’s a different beast altogether.

“Just one race,” your supervisor had assured you. “It’ll be fine, Y/N. You’re a pro.”

Easy for them to say. The paddock is a maze of garages, team colors (which are a uniform grayscale for you, of course), and a cacophony of sounds that’s more overwhelming than a packed Premier League stadium.

You’ve been briefed on the basics — Max Verstappen’s the reigning champ, Lewis Hamilton’s the legend, and Lando Norris, the homegrown young talent, just secured P2.

P2. The words feel alien, even though you repeat them to yourself over and over, willing them to become familiar. Podium finish, second place. You’ve got this.

But the truth is, you don’t. Not really. And it’s showing as you fumble with your notes, trying to prepare for the post-race interviews. Your heart’s racing faster than any of the cars on the track.

“Hey, you alright there?”

The voice comes from behind you, startling you out of your thoughts. You turn around and see a young man — not too tall, with curly hair, and a faint smirk playing on his lips. You recognize him immediately, even in black and white.

Lando Norris.

“Yeah, just-” You scramble for professionalism, straightening your back and offering what you hope is a confident smile. “Just getting ready for the interviews.”

Lando’s eyes flicker down to the notes in your hand. “First time covering F1?”

Your smile falters. “Is it that obvious?”

He chuckles softly, and for a moment, it’s as if the world around you narrows down to just the two of you standing there in the paddock, the sounds and chaos fading into the background.

“A little,” he admits, leaning casually against the wall, as if he’s got all the time in the world. “But don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound surprising even yourself. There’s something about his easygoing manner that puts you at ease, just for a moment. “I appreciate that.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, right?” He asks, and you’re caught off guard that he knows your name.

“That’s me,” you reply, slipping into the role of interviewer as best as you can. “Congratulations on P2, by the way. How was the race for you?”

He glances at you, and for a brief second, his expression changes. It’s subtle — almost imperceptible — but it’s there. Something shifts in his eyes, something that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Thanks,” he says, but the word comes out softer than you expect. There’s a pause, a moment of hesitation, before he continues. “The race was … it was intense. But honestly? Standing here right now … it feels like something else is happening.”

You frown slightly, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

Lando looks at you again, more intently this time, and you’re acutely aware of the way your pulse is thumping in your ears. “Look around,” he murmurs, his voice low, as if he’s sharing a secret. “Do you see anything different?”

You blink, confused. You glance around, expecting to see the same monotone world you’ve always known, the same dull shades of gray. But instead … you see it. A soft glow in the distance, a faint tinge of color in the sky.

It’s … blue.

A gasp escapes your lips before you can stop it. “What …”

Lando steps closer, his expression as bewildered as yours. “You see it too, don’t you?”

“I-I don’t understand,” you stammer, your heart racing even faster now. “This can’t be real. I’ve never seen color before.”

“Neither have I,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “But … I’m seeing it now. Because of you.”

The air around you feels electric, charged with something you can’t quite name. Your eyes lock onto his, and suddenly, the world isn’t gray anymore. It’s alive with hues and shades that you’ve only ever imagined. His eyes, a stunning shade of fluid green, meet yours with the same wonder.

“This can’t be real,” you repeat, more to yourself than to him. You’re trying to make sense of the impossible, of the vivid blues and greens and reds that are slowly seeping into your vision, like the world is waking up from a long sleep.

Lando reaches out, his hand hovering near yours, not quite touching. There’s a vulnerability in his gaze that’s startling — like he’s just as unsure of what’s happening as you are. “I think …” he starts, then stops, swallowing hard before trying again. “I think it’s because we’re soulmates.”

“Soulmates?” You echo, the word feeling foreign on your tongue. You’ve heard the stories, the myths — how the world is black and white until you meet the person you’re meant to be with.

But it’s just that, isn’t it? A myth? A fairytale? With over 8 billion people on Earth, the chances of actually meeting your fated match are slim-to-none. Most of the population has grown to accept that they will never see anything other than black and white.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “That’s what they say, right? You don’t see color until you meet your soulmate. But I never thought it’d actually happen. Not like this.”

You’re silent for a moment, trying to process it all. The colors, the implications, the fact that this person — this stranger — is suddenly supposed to mean everything to you. It’s overwhelming.

“I don’t even know you,” you whisper, voicing your fears. “How can we be soulmates if we don’t even know each other?”

Lando’s smile is small, almost shy. “I guess we’ll have to change that, won’t we?”

The words are simple, but they carry a weight that you’re not sure you’re ready to bear. But when he looks at you like that, with such sincerity, you find yourself nodding.

“Yeah,” you agree softly. “I guess we will.”

He takes a step closer, and this time, his hand does brush against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You feel it in every nerve, every inch of your being. It’s like the world has shifted on its axis, and you’re standing at the center of something much bigger than yourself.

“Can I ask you something?” Lando’s voice is quiet, almost tentative.

“Of course,” you reply, your voice just as soft.

“What’s your favorite color?”

The question catches you off guard. It’s such a simple thing, and yet, in this moment, it feels like the most important question in the world. You look around, taking in the colors that are now flooding your vision — the vibrant greens of the trees in the distance, the deep blues of the sky, the bright reds and yellows of the cars and team logos.

“I don’t know,” you admit, and the honesty of it feels right. “I’ve never had a favorite color before.”

Lando smiles, a real smile this time, and it’s like the sun breaking through the clouds. “Pretty sure I’m legally obligated to say mine’s papaya,” he laughs, and you notice it for the first time — the vibrant hue of his team’s colors, standing out against the grayscale world you’ve known until now. “I think you’ll like it.”

You smile back at him, feeling the connection between you deepening with every passing second. It’s terrifying, and exhilarating, and everything in between.

“I think I might,” you say, and the words are full of a promise that you’re not sure you fully understand yet, but that feels right nonetheless.

For a moment, the world falls away, and it’s just the two of you, standing there in a kaleidoscope of color that’s bursting into life all around you. The roar of the engines, the clamor of the crowd — it all fades into the background as you look at each other, truly seeing each other for the first time.

“So … what happens now?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando’s hand tightens around yours, and there’s a steadiness in his gaze that grounds you. “We take it one step at a time,” he says. “We get to know each other. And we see where this goes.”

The simplicity of his words is comforting. There’s no grand declaration, no rush to figure everything out. Just a promise to take things as they come, to let whatever this is between you grow naturally, in its own time.

“I’d like that,” you say, and you mean it.

He grins, that boyish charm back in full force, and you can’t help but smile in return. “Good,” he says. “Because I think we’re going to be seeing a lot more of each other.”

There’s a warmth in his tone that makes your heart skip a beat, and for the first time since this whole whirlwind began, you find yourself excited about the future — about the possibility of what’s to come.

“Yeah,” you reply, your smile widening. “I think we are.”

And as you stand there, hand-in-hand with Lando Norris, surrounded by the vibrant colors of a world that’s finally come to life, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this is where you were always meant to be.

[dksfml]

Love 119 [Part Two]

part of my paramedic!jungwon series. [part one] [part three]

pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: enemies at work, lovers at home. secret dating. jungwon is hot when jealous, suggestive, fluff summary: your coworkers think that you and niki look cute together while jungwon, your boyfriend is literally standing next to you and it's driving him insane. word count: 3.5k author's note: hey everyone! as promised, i'm here to serve another paramedic jungwon brainrot because it's not fair to just devour this cutesy alone. enjoy and leave some notes <3 read part 1 first and reply if you want to get tagged for the next parts!

You’re midway through a lukewarm coffee in the hospital cafeteria when your coworker leans in, voice low and eyes gleaming with intrigue. “So…” she starts, drawing the word out slowly, “who’s the lucky guy?”

It takes you a second, but the question sinks in just as she tilts her head, nodding toward your neck with a smirk. Your hand instinctively rises to the spot Jungwon’s lips had claimed last night, right at the juncture of your neck and shoulder—a parting gift as you’d curled up together, something you didn’t think twice about until now.

A blush surges to your cheeks. “What? Oh, no, that’s… I scratched it too hard,” you say quickly, heat rising not only from the surprise but the memory of last night—Jungwon’s sleepy grin, the way he’d pulled you close, whispering in your ear as he pressed soft kisses down the curve of your neck.

“Sure you did,” she teases, crossing her arms as her smirk widens. “You’re going to need a better excuse than that. So… is it Niki?”

“What?” you laugh, the idea so out of the blue it’s almost comical. “Niki? Why would you even think that?”

She shrugs, the smugness on her face never faltering. “You always have a soft spot for him. You never scold him like the rest of us. Plus, everyone’s seen the way he hovers around you in the halls, he’s clearly smitten.”

Your eyes widen at the notion. Niki, your young, eager junior who fumbles his way through shifts and who you can’t help but look after because he’s new and a little too starry-eyed for his own good? It’s laughable. “It’s not like that,” you manage, shaking your head. “He’s just… young, that’s all.”

“Mhmm,” she says with a knowing chuckle. “Sure, if you say so.”

Before you can protest further, your phone vibrates. Glancing down, you find a message from Jungwon: a photo of his lunch, neatly arranged with a sweet message beneath it. “Eat well, ily.”

The casual intimacy of it makes your stomach flip, and you feel an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. You quickly swipe away the notification, hoping she didn’t see the smile or the faint hearts in your eyes.

The day unfolds in the usual rush of patient check-ins, chart updates, and emergency calls. You busy yourself to the point where the cafeteria conversation drifts from your mind—until you catch a glimpse of yourself in the break room mirror and spot the faint outline of that now-infamous hickey, the concealer having barely managed to mask it. You tug your collar higher, hoping to hide it through the rest of the shift.

The afternoon in the ER has been a blur of movement and urgency, leaving you barely a moment to breathe. Every time an ambulance pulls up, your heart skips a beat, half-hoping, half-dreading that it’ll be Jungwon walking through those doors.

But each time, it’s someone else, and you return to the steady rhythm of your work, instructing Niki at your side as he follows your lead. Despite the tense environment, he’s attentive and focused, learning from you as he manages each step of the patient’s treatment with remarkable ease.

Afterward, you and Niki head back to the department office, the adrenaline settling as you both chat lightly, unwinding from the chaotic pace. As you enter, you spot Jungwon down the corridor, heading the other way with a stack of documents.

It’s almost comical how, even amidst the bustling hospital, his presence stands out so starkly to you. For a split second, he glances your way, and the fleeting moment feels charged, pulling your attention and making it impossible to look away. But as soon as your eyes meet, you glance down, hoping no one notices how that brief connection leaves your pulse racing.

Once back at your desk, you feel your coworkers’ eyes on you, their curious glances flickering between you and Niki. You try to brush it off as nothing, settling into your usual seat, with Niki across from you. Just as you’re starting to sift through some files, Jungwon’s familiar stride enters the department office.

His easy confidence fills the room, and he greets everyone with that understated charm, heading to a nearby colleague to ask for specific documents. You’re not even looking at him, but his presence is impossible to ignore. You focus on your papers, hoping that looking busy might steady your nerves, but the pages blur in front of you, your mind too distracted by the fact that he’s just a few steps away.

Then, just as you’re juggling a pile of documents, you accidentally knock over your iced coffee. The mostly empty cup clatters over, spilling what’s left onto your coat. The moment the coffee splashes onto your coat, Niki and Jungwon are both at your side in an instant. Niki’s quick to pull out a box of tissues, while Jungwon silently holds out a pristine handkerchief, a touch of annoyance already flickering in his gaze.

Caught off-guard, you instinctively reach for Niki’s tissues, leaving Jungwon standing there with his handkerchief, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches you dab at the stain.

Your coworkers notice the scene and immediately latch onto it, their laughter filling the room. "Oh, come on, you two," one of them teases, grinning at the pair of you. "Why don’t you just date already?”

Another chimes in, "Yeah, it’s obvious there’s something going on. I mean, look how attentive Niki is—always ready to help you out."

You wave them off, laughing it away, but the teasing only grows louder. Someone else playfully nudges Niki. "What’s next, bringing her coffee in the morning?"

Niki laughs, scratching the back of his head, visibly flustered. "Come on, guys, we’re just… coworkers," he insists, though his blush only adds fuel to the fire.

Meanwhile, you can feel Jungwon’s gaze on you, sharper and more intense than ever. His silence speaks volumes; the usual relaxed confidence he carries seems to be tinged with something harder, a jealousy that simmers just beneath the surface. It unsettles you, tugging at something guilty inside as the teasing around you grows.

Suddenly, Jungwon steps forward to you, interrupting the chatter with a clipped tone. "Enough with the tissues,” he says, leveling his gaze at you, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Stop fussing with that coat—you’re only making it worse. Change into something clean, or the smell will stick with you all day.”

The room falls silent, your coworkers exchanging amused glances. You roll your eyes, unwilling to let him get the last word.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Practicality. I can handle a few drops of coffee,” you retort, folding your arms and meeting his gaze with a defiant tilt of your chin.

He raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

"Right, because dealing with a coffee stain is something you’re well-prepared for," he says dryly, folding his arms to match yours. "Clearly, practicality isn’t your strong suit."

You scoff, refusing to back down. "And since when did you become an expert in coffee stain management? It’s barely noticeable, and I’m perfectly fine with it."

Jungwon’s gaze doesn’t waver, the challenge sparking between you both as he leans in just a fraction, his voice lower. "Just because you’re fine with it doesn’t mean everyone else is." His eyes flick down to the stain and then back up to yours, a knowing glint in them.

Your coworkers are watching with raised brows, amused but also visibly intrigued by the tension between the two of you. "Are we interrupting something?” one of them jokes, breaking the silence. "Honestly, the way you two bicker is like a married couple."

The comment makes you blush, but Jungwon doesn’t flinch. Instead, he holds your gaze, his smirk deepening. "At least one of us knows how to handle these little emergencies,” he quips, voice steady, though there’s a hint of something raw behind his eyes—a hint of jealousy that only you can catch. The way he’s looking at you, there’s no mistaking it: he’s anything but amused by the teasing around Niki.

But before you can respond, Niki steps forward, awkwardly placing his coat over your chair. “Um, here,” he says, clearly trying to ease the tension. “You can wear mine for now if the coffee’s bothering you that much.”

The room erupts into more laughter, someone nudging Niki with a grin. "See? He’s a gentleman. Really, you two should just make it official."

Another coworker teases, "Or maybe they already have, and they’re just not telling us."

Jungwon’s expression hardens as he watches the exchange, his eyes narrowing. His gaze flickers from Niki to you, a frustration simmering beneath his calm facade.

You feel the tension growing, an almost tangible weight of jealousy in the way his jaw clenches, his fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.

Finally, he speaks up, cutting through the laughter with a controlled but slightly irritated tone. "Enough of the matchmaking." His gaze falls pointedly on you, something possessive flickering there, though he masks it quickly. "And you should change. That coffee smell won’t just vanish."

You narrow your eyes at him, refusing to back down. "If it bothers you so much, why don’t you bring me a change of clothes yourself?"

"Thanks," he says shortly, taking the stack of paperwork with a polite nod. He turns back to you and your coworkers, offering a quick, “See you all later. Take care, everyone.” His voice is casual, but as his gaze lingers on you for a fraction of a second longer, you feel the weight of everything left unsaid.

With that, Jungwon strides toward the door, his usual self-assured calm back in place. You watch him leave, but just as he reaches the exit, your phone buzzes in your hand. You glance down, your pulse quickening as you read the message from him:

“I have something you can change into in the back of the car.”

It’s simple, yet there’s something about it that makes your stomach flip. You glance up just in time to catch Jungwon’s silhouette disappearing down the hallway, feeling the tension of the moment linger in the air long after he’s gone.

The rest of your shift rolls by with its usual demands, and you brush off the incident from earlier, deciding against getting the change of clothes Jungwon offered. By the time you finally clock out, the sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the nearly empty parking lot. Just as you step out of the hospital doors, Jungwon’s car pulls up in front of the exit.

You feel a small smile tugging at your lips as you walk over and slip into the passenger seat. “Hey,” you greet him, but his focus remains straight ahead, his hands firm on the wheel, his paramedic uniform clinging to his form. The sight of him in that navy blue uniform, complete with the badge and patches, usually makes your heart race, but today his expression is unreadable. A flicker of surprise hits you. Jungwon, who is usually quick with a playful remark, doesn’t even turn his head as you settle in, leaving you feeling a bit deflated.

You tilt your head, watching him closely, noticing the slightest crease of annoyance in his brow. With a slight pout, you try breaking the ice, “So, how was your day?”

He answers, but his tone is clipped, barely more than a few words. "Busy. The usual."

You blink, feeling a hint of tension in the air. Normally, he’d be cracking jokes or filling the car with easy chatter, but now he’s focused on the road with a seriousness that feels almost uncharacteristic.

Leaning back in your seat, you give him a sideways glance. “Is this about the clothes?” you finally ask, crossing your arms as you look at him. “Are you upset I didn’t change into them?”

A quick denial. “No,” he says, a bit too fast, but still refusing to look your way.

You can’t help but smile a little, noticing his hands gripping the wheel tighter than usual. “Uh-huh. Doesn’t sound like you’re not upset,” you tease, leaning forward to get a better look at his face.

“I’m not upset,” he repeats, but he’s biting his lip, eyes fixed stubbornly ahead as if he’s hyper-focused on the road. His brow furrows, and he lets out a soft sigh.

“Come on, Jungwon, it’s cute when you sulk,” you say, your smile widening at the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly, revealing his irritation in the most subtle way.

This finally gets a reaction. He glances at you, his eyes narrowing just a little. “I’m not sulking,” he mumbles, but the denial lacks its usual conviction.

“You look pretty sulky to me,” you murmur, enjoying the rare moment of catching him off guard.

Just then, the car comes to a stop at a red light, and you glance over to find him holding a long breath, his expression somewhere between frustration and fondness. The tension in the air shifts slightly as he turns his gaze towards you, and in that moment, you feel the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

Without breaking eye contact, he places his right hand gently on your lap, rubbing small circles with his thumb. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting that familiar spark between you two. It’s a simple gesture, yet it feels so intimate, especially with the way he’s staring at you as if he’s trying to convey everything he can’t say out loud.

He resumes driving as the light turns green, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but his voice softens, a hint of vulnerability slipping through the usual bravado. “I’m not upset,” he assures you, though the sincerity behind his words hints at something deeper, something he’s wrestling with beneath the surface.

You can’t help but smile at him, the weight of his earlier mood lifting slightly. “Then what’s with the whole silent treatment? You know you can just tell me, right?”

Jungwon shakes his head, a faint smile creeping onto his face despite his mood.

“It’s more complicated than that,” he says, his voice maintaining a lightness that’s undercut by an earnest edge. “I don’t want to be the guy who gets all worked up over people assuming you and Niki are a thing.”

You bite your lip, the realization sinking in that his jealousy is more about their perceptions than the spilled coffee earlier.

“Well, I’m definitely not dating Niki,” you reply softly, trying to ease his tension. “He’s just a good coworker. You know that.”

He glances at you briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile as he focuses back on the road.

“Good,” he mutters, his hand still gently rubbing your thigh, sending tingles coursing through you. The intimacy of the gesture makes your heart race.

He passes another intersection and accelerates, the car moving smoothly through the streets.

“But you know,” you continue, trying to keep the mood light, “if you were just a little quicker with your offer, I wouldn’t have to deal with all this teasing.”

Jungwon lets out a soft chuckle, the tension in the car easing slightly. “I thought I was quick enough,” he says, a playful tone returning to his voice. “How was I supposed to know you’d be so stubborn?”

“Stubborn? Me? Never,” you tease, rolling your eyes dramatically.

He shakes his head with a laugh, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh, a subtle reminder of the unspoken bond between you two. As he navigates the streets, the silence stretches comfortably, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of traffic.

“Hey, you should know,” you add after a moment, “if you want to make sure I’m not wearing Niki’s clothes, maybe you should just… keep me in yours.”

Jungwon raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Is that your way of saying you want me to dress you?”

“Maybe,” you reply coyly, biting your lip again, the playful banter making you feel bold.

He laughs, shaking his head as he pulls into a quiet parking lot. “You really know how to make me feel like I’m the jealous one, huh?”

“Just speaking the truth,” you say, leaning back into the seat, enjoying the rhythm of the moment.

As he turns off the engine, the atmosphere shifts slightly, the playful banter fading into a more intimate silence. Jungwon finally meets your gaze, his expression earnest. “Just so you know, it’s not about Niki. I just…” he trails off, searching for the right words. “I want to be the one you lean on, the one you trust.”

Your heart swells at his confession, a warmth spreading through you. “You are, Jungwon. You’re the one I always want to lean on.”

He smiles, a genuine light returning to his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right.

When you arrive at your apartment, Jungwon opens the door for you, the familiar scent of your space washing over you. As soon as you step inside, he follows closely behind, and before you can even set your bag down, he closes the door and turns to face you.

In an instant, the air between you shifts. Jungwon steps forward, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you closer. You barely have time to react before he captures your lips with his in a deep, passionate kiss that takes your breath away. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you and the electric tension that crackles in the air.

His lips move against yours with a fervor that surprises you, and you feel your heart racing, responding instinctively as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, his mouth coaxing yours open as he explores the sweetness of your taste. It’s intoxicating, and you lose yourself in the moment, your worries and doubts melting away.

In the midst of the kiss, he breaks away for just a moment, breathless and looking down at you with those soft eyes. “I can still smell the coffee,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You giggle, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the reminder of the earlier incident making you giddy. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for that to happen,” you reply, your voice teasing but breathless.

“Maybe I should get you a proper change of clothes next time,” he quips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But then he adds, more seriously, “You should probably take those off; the smell will cling to you.”

His suggestion sends a thrill through you, and you find yourself biting your lip in excitement. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you want me to take them off?” you tease, your heart racing as you lean closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

He chuckles softly, but there’s a glint of something deeper in his eyes. “Okay, maybe it’s a little selfish,” he admits, his breath ghosting over your skin as he moves in even closer.

With a playful grin, you decide to indulge him. “Fine, but only if you do too,” you say, your fingers finding the buttons of his uniform. You start to unbutton it, your hands trembling slightly with anticipation. Each button that comes undone reveals more of his toned physique, and your breath hitches as you take in the sight of him.

As your fingers glide over the fabric, Jungwon watches you, his expression a mixture of desire and admiration. “You know, this might be the best idea you’ve ever had,” he murmurs, his voice low and enticing.

You finally push the uniform off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. In that moment, the playful atmosphere shifts into something more intimate. He captures your lips again, and you feel the heat between you both intensify as you pull away the last barriers that had been keeping you apart.

Just when you think it can't get any more intense, he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air. “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he admits, his breath mingling with yours, creating a palpable tension that thrums in the air.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask, your voice teasing yet filled with warmth.

“You know I can’t let everyone find out I’m dating the hottest doctor in the hospital, or else…” he argues, a playful grin breaking through his earlier seriousness.

“Oh, please,” you bite back with a smirk, playfully nudging him. “Like they wouldn’t notice that the ‘sexiest and charming paramedic’ is completely smitten.”

With a smile that could light up the room, you lean in for another kiss, feeling the world around you fade away once again as you get lost in him.

[part one] [part three]

[munsonsmixtapes]

Is Somebody Gonna Match My Freak?

scarer!Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: you go to a fright night with your friends and can’t help be attracted to one of the scarers who passes by, and when your friends let you know just how weirded out they are by your acquired taste, he steps in and lets you know just how badly he wants to fuck you. If only there was a way to properly thank him for defending you. 

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you smack it) oral (m receiving) hair pulling, kinks (mask, breeding) sub!Eddie, dom!reader, reader's friends are bullies

Based on this request and this request!

part two

The place was bustling when you and your friends entered it. It had been a tradition for the four of you to go every year, but the difference was that this year you were going to fuck one of the workers. There was just something about the whole thing that sounded exciting to you, and bonus points if it happened in one of the haunted houses.

You surveyed the place, on the hunt for the person you were going to pick out, hoping that they would agree, but totally understood if they didn't since it was a pretty odd request. You were sure that they didn’t get asked that very often, but you were still feeling pretty confident in yourself. 

Your friend Aria looped her arm through yours as the two of you walked. You were easily closer to her than you were to the others but like the others, she also didn’t understand your whole obsession with or your attraction to all of the employees in their scary costumes, and you didn’t understand why she thought it was so weird. 

A worker slid through the walkway and Aria made sure to push you out of the way so neither of you had gotten in the way. And the man stopped right in the center, giving you a great view of the profile of his mask. And in that moment, you decided that he was the one. 

Aria let out a shriek from beside you and the worker whipped around, turning to face you, and while you were resisting the urge to twirl your hair in a flirtatious manner, your friend was practically shaking like a leaf. 

She stepped behind you and the man turned to you, his face dangerously close to yours. You stared him down, taking in the features of his mask. It looked like plastic and you hadn’t recognized it from anywhere so you figured it had been a random mask that was just supposed to be scary. And it was with the eyes that were a cloudy white and the bloody smile that had far too many teeth in its smile. 

But that didn’t matter anyway. You were attracted to the way he moved, the confidence that exuded from him, the way he inched closer that your faces were so close that you could just lean in and-no-you couldn’t do that, especially when he was on the clock. Instead, you looked down at his outfit. It consisted of a pair of tight jeans, a baggy band t-shirt, and a jean jacket that had a bunch of pins and patches of some of your favorite bands. He really was the whole package. 

You looked back up at him, his hair catching your eye. It was dark brown and curly, perfectly achieving the effortlessly messy look that you knew was hard to accomplish. It also looked so soft and you wanted to run your hands through it to see it felt as good as it looked. It would have nice to hold onto while he-

Your hand reached up and you pushed Aria further behind you as you stared the stranger down. So many thoughts, all of them impure. Why did you have to be the freak amongst your friends? Why couldn’t you have just found these characters scary like they did? Why were you so attracted to the man in front of you? 

“Better be careful,” he told you and just the husky sound of his voice was making you feel things. “Wouldn’t want your friend to get hurt while I’m sliding through.” He was stepping closer and you only backed up so you wouldn’t do something you have regretted. If you had had it your way, you would have taken him right there, pulling him into the nearest space where you could have had some privacy. 

Jesus, you really needed to chill out. It wasn’t like you would have actually had the guts to ask him. It was all just something that would live in your head. All just a fantasy that would never see the light of day. 

“She won’t,” you replied, stepping closer to the man. “I’ll protect her.”

“Good,” he nodded. “Enjoy your evening.” And with that, he turned on his heel and slid across the way to scare another group. You were definitely going to enjoy your evening if you kept thinking about him. 

Aria moved from behind you and for a second, you almost forgot that she was even there, your mind still on the stranger. She looped her arm through yours once again and tried to keep herself composed. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. “That guy was a freak.” Yeah, he was. And now you were beginning to wonder if he was a freak in the sheets as well. 

“I’m good. I think I need to go to the bathroom, though,” you told her, not exactly wanting to say why. You were sure that she’d figure it out anyway. 

“Jesus, you were turned on by that?” She was looking at you with a grimace as her voice raised a bit too loudly for your liking. You didn’t need everyone to know about your kinks. 

“Not so loud,” you moved to stand in front of her. “And yeah, I was. What’s so wrong with that?” You shrugged, watching her nose scrunch up in disgust. 

“So much,” Aria shook her head. “He was wearing a mask, y/n,” she pointed out as if you didn’t already know that. 

“Hence the bases of the appeal,” you rolled your eyes. What part was she not understanding?

“So you want to fuck the man wearing the mask that’s going to me my sleep paralysis demon for the next week? I’ll never understand you.” She was shaking her head in disgust and you didn’t like the way she always made comments on how weird or disturbing she thought your taste in men was. You would have never done that to her if the roles were reversed. 

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes again. “Why don’t you stop kink shaming me and we can go find the others.” 

You pulled her along and found the others in your group by the first house you were going to go into. You hadn’t even been paying attention to what they were saying as the same man slid past the four of you, immediately catching your eye. You stared, your thoughts getting even more impure by the second. 

“Jesus, she’s at it again,” Addison teased, but you ignored her. God, you really needed to get better friends. 

“You really think one of these guys will fuck you?”

“Yeah, you’re not a teenager anymore, y/n,” Claire added, crossing her arms over her chest. “And we came out here to have fun, not to watch you lust over all these weird creatures. And I bet the workers are uncomfortable with it too.” 

Your couldn’t believe it. They were all actually against you. How long had they felt that way and why were they being so mean? It wasn’t like you had vocalized it that many times and you weren’t actually going to fuck any of them anyway. And you supposed you couldn’t do it now that you were thoroughly embarrassed. 

“I don’t mean to eavesdrop,” you heard a voice and whipped around to see the man from earlier. He was approaching the four of you and the three girls backed up, leaving you to stand in front of him. “But I just wanted to say that I’m not embarrassed in the slightest. In fact, I’d be honored. A woman as beautiful as you? Shit, I’d be so down.” 

You blinked a few times, your brain taking a minute to register what was going on. Could it be true? Or was he just saying that to make you feel better? Probably the latter. That seemed more plausible. 

“You-what?” You stuttered, entirely unsure how to go about the situation now. You turned your back and sure enough, your friends had left, leaving the two of you alone. 

“I’m serious,” he nodded. “And fuck your friends. They’re just upset that they can’t match your freak. Which, I totally could, by the way. I’m into anything.” 

Was this really happening? Was the man you had been thirsting over for the past twenty minutes actually offering to have sex with you? It all definitely had to be some sort of surreal dream…right? 

“If you’re up for it, we can meet right here after closing and see where the night takes us.” 

“They’re not here anymore so you can quit the act,” you turned on your heel to leave, but he slid right in front of you to stop you from leaving, taking your hands in his. 

“Oh, but it’s not an act. I swear,” he brought your hands up to his mask, mimicking a kiss. ”I’ll be right here, but if you don’t come, I understand.” Oh, you were coming, and in more ways than one. 

“No,” you shook your head. “I’ll be there.”

“Good,” he nodded as he stood up, putting his fingerless glove out for you to shake. “I’m Eddie, by the way.” You were unsure whether or not that was his real name or a fake one, but you were going to go with it either way. 

“Y/n,” you replied and Eddie nodded. Y/n. He thought it suited you, and because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants for five seconds, he couldn’t help but think about how much he was looking forward to moaning it. 

The rest of your night was spent alone as you went through all of the houses you could, not even thinking about what was occurring in each one, not even reacting to all of the scarers trying to get to you. The only thing that was going on in your head was the man in the mask and all of the things you were going to get up to after the event closed for the night. 

And unbeknownst to you, Eddie was thinking the same thing. Sure, he could get laid on his own, but it was definitely not as easy when he was wearing the mask. So the fact that you were so attracted to him while he had it on was doing things to him. He was so turned on that he didn’t know what to do with himself, eventually having to wrap his jacket around his front to prevent anyone from seeing his massive hard-on. 

And as the end of the night came to a close with everyone leaving, he was getting progressively more hard as he thought about what you would have looked like underneath you as he fucked you absolutely senseless until you couldn’t walk. And he couldn’t help but think about what you were going to sound like when you moaned or whined, god the whining was going to kill him. 

He was so close to hunting you down and having his way with you right then and there, not giving a single fuck about who was watching. He could feel his mouth watering at the idea of burying his face into your cunt, eating you out so well, licking and sucking a letting his teeth scrape across it, the movements continuing and getting more rough until your thighs were pressed against the side of his head, practically crushing it as moan after moan poured from your mouth. 

And just as he was about to go find you, there you were, right in front of him, looking like you were about to jump his bones right there. And he wanted you to, to push him up against the nearest object and-

“There you are,” you spoke up, pulling him out of his thoughts. He turned around to face you and his face lit up at the sight of you despite you not being able to see it. And seeing you there, your bright smile playing on your lips just made him think about how badly he wanted to have them wrapped around his-

“Here I am,” you nodded at him as you stepped forward, standing right in front of him. The entire place was empty as the guests and other employees had left, leaving the two of you alone. And for once, Eddie was so happy that he had been the one in charge of locking up that night so he could have stayed there with you as long as you wanted. 

“So, should we head out to my car?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the exit. 

“Actually,” you stepped even closer, coming toe to toe with him as you grabbed onto his hand. “I was thinking maybe we could go into one of the houses. 

“Well, shit, alright,” he let out a chuckle as he resisted the urge to look at your joined hands. Yours was soft and feeling his fingers against his made him wonder what they would have felt like in his mouth as he sucked on them. God, he was so horny that he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

He reached up to take off his mask, wanting to take it off after a long day of work and feeling the need to see you with his actual eyes, not through the eyes of the mask that always made things look just a little distorted. But you had stopped him, your hands resting on top of his. 

“No, leave it on,” you instructed and Eddie wouldn’t dare argue. Shit, had he finally found someone who had matched his freak? He thought he might have. 

“So, you’re really going to fuck me without knowing what I look like?” Of course you were. It wouldn’t have been the first time you had done so, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

“Sure, why not?” You shrugged. “The mask is hot.” He loved how you were so unapologetic about your interests, how you had even defended yourself to your friends about your acquired taste. 

“Really?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows even though you couldn’t see him. Perhaps you were even more of a freak than he was, and he thought that was hard to do. He was the freakiest person he had known, both in personality and in the bedroom, but maybe, maybe you had him beat. 

“Yes,” you nodded. “Really. And I bet you’re hot too.” People had told him so on occasion, and he thought so too, but sometimes the trauma of living in Hawkins crept up on him on occasion. But clearly he had won since the most beautiful woman he had ever seen was standing right in front of him, wanting to fuck his brains out. And there was absolutely no way in hell that he was going to decline. 

“Well,” he shrugged. “So what house were you thinking?” He turned his head left and right, taking in all the options. 

“This one,” you pointed to the one you were standing right next to. Eddie was a little surprised that you had chosen the one that had to have been the scariest one in the entire park, but he supposed that he shouldn’t have been considering that you had been attracted to his scary mask. 

“And there’s that hay stack so we won’t be completely on the floor.” You held your hand out for Eddie and he took it gratefully, grinning from ear to ear and he was grateful that you couldn’t see the pink that was staining his cheeks as you led him inside. The whole thing was dark when you had opened the door and that made the experience all the more exciting. 

You turned on your phone flashlight continued to lead him further into the house, not missing how his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close to him, whether it was to protect you or just an excuse to hold you close, you didn’t know, but either way, you leaned into him, feeling his rock hard cock brush against your ass as you did so. You whipped around and turned to face him with a devilish grin appearing on your pretty lips. 

“Already hard for me, aren’t you, Eddie?” You asked, your hand moving to cup his cock, pressing your hand against it while giving it a little squeeze. He let out an involuntary moan fell from his lips making you grin even more. “Do you need me to take care of you?” You asked and he nodded furiously, needing it so badly that he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

You backed him against the nearest wall so he had something to lean against before you pressed your lips to his mask, letting your tongue glide across it, making Eddie even more hard as he watched you. As your tongue was busy, you unzipped his pants, pushing them down so that they fell to his feet, his underwear following as his rock hard cock sprang free. 

“Look at you, already ready for me,” you said as you got down on your knees, wrapping your hand around the base while your tongue swiped along the tip licking up the cum that had leaked from it which caused Eddie to gasp as he pressed his hands against the wall, desperate for something to hold onto.

 “Relax baby,” you cooed. “Let me take care of you, hm?” You took him into his mouth and began to suck on him, looking up at him even though you couldn’t see his face because of his mask, but you could just tell the kind of face he was making with his eyes shut tight, his mouth falling up as the hottest moans came from it. 

You continued to suck as your tongue swiped across the head, your other hand moving to his thigh where you squeezed like it was your own personal stress ball. His hands moved to your hair, threading through it and giving it a tug when you did something he particularly liked. He’d been sucked off before, but never like that, never so well that the whole thing made him weak in the knees. 

“Fuck,” he whined. “So good.” You continued to suck and hearing his moans was all you needed to continue, but you decided that it was time to switch things up. You removed him from your mouth and looked up at him with a pleading look and Eddie decided that he was going to whatever you asked.

“Fuck my mouth,” you commanded and Eddie tilted his head to the side as confusion washed over him.

“Fuck your mouth?” He had only done it one time before and he hadn’t liked it, but maybe this time would be different. 

“Yes, Eddie, fuck my mouth. Please,” you begged and he shrugged, hypnotized by the look in your eyes, the way your mouth formed the words. Without a word, he grabbed onto the back of your head and brought his dick to your lips, watching you open up as he slid inside, his cock pumping in and out of your mouth, feeling your lips wrap around him, sucking him off every time he got far enough inside. Moan after moan fell from his lips as he progressively fit more of himself into your mouth, addicted to the feeling. 

This had been entirely different than the first time. 

This time, he had known what he was doing and you seemed to enjoy the whole thing, your eyes closed in absolute bliss as you sucked him off, your own moans falling from your lips. And when he was able to fit all of himself inside you, your nose brushing the patch of hair above his cock, your eyes watering as the head hit the back of your throat, he was convinced he hadn’t seen anything so hot in his life. 

His hands tugged on your hair as he came, the loudest moans leaving his mouth as his head was thrown back, leaning forward so it didn’t hit the wall. You opened your eyes just in time to see him do it, the stubble along the part of his jaw that you could see caught your eye and you immediately thought about you how wanted to feel it prickle against your lips as you sucked on the spot. 

You felt cum leak out onto the back of your tongue and you pulled him from you before swallowing, watching him come down from his orgasm before he grabbed onto your arms to help you to your feet. 

“Swear to god that was the best head of my life.” With any other guy you would have thought that was line, but with Eddie, you didn’t know why, but you believed him. It had to be true with the way he had reacted to the whole thing. “Now it’s only fair if I repay you for being so generous.”

“No, baby, tonight’s about you,” you shook your head. “I have to repay you for defending me somehow.” 

“But-“

“No,” you cut him off, covering the mouth of his mask with your hand as you looked into the white eyes, wondering how the hell he could see through them. “You just stay and enjoy, okay? Let me thank you.” 

Eddie just nodded as he stayed against the wall, watching you step away from him as you unzipped your jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you, revealing the black corset that you were wearing. 

The panels of it were made of a thin lace, leaving practically nothing up to the imagination and Eddie couldn’t believe that, in a way, you had worn it for him. He had overheard you talking with your friends, telling them that you had intended on fucking one of the scarers and he was still kind of in shock that he had been the one you had chosen. Sure, he had offered, but that didn’t mean that you had to agree. 

Your hands moved down your body slowly as they traveled down to your skirt, unzipping the side and letting it pool at your feet before kicking it to the side. You then removed your shoes, followed by your tights, leaving you in just your top and the pretty underwear that matched. And Eddie was convinced that he had died and gone to heaven as he stared at you. 

You grabbed onto his hands and moved them to rest on your back, putting on the most flirty face you could muster. 

“Thought I’d let you do the honors of doing the rest of the undressing,” you bat your lashes and Eddie stayed silent, nodding enthusiastically at the idea. He undid the clasps while maintaining eye contact with you. He had unclasped more bras than he could count so the mechanism was very familiar to him. 

He did it slowly, one by one, watching the thing get more loose until he got to the last one, watching it fall to the floor between the two of you. He then brought his gaze back up to your bare chest, feeling his cock getting harder as he took in your naked top half. Fuck, you were beautiful, angelic. 

“Jesus christ,” he groaned, feeling his cock twitch. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“No, that’s you, handsome,” you winked and he wondered how he had found someone more smooth, more flirty than he was. “Now the panties,” you nodded your head towards the pair you were wearing and Eddie’s hands traveled down your waist, tucking his fingers into your waistband, slowly pulling your panties down your legs, getting lower as they moved down south, getting a look at how wet you were as he did so, seeing it running down your legs.

 If he hadn’t been so shy, he would have cleaned you up with his mouth before draping your legs over his shoulders and eaten you out for hours on end, showing you just how hot he thought you were with just his mouth. 

Once the panties were removed, he stood to his feet with one of the leg holes looped over his pointer finger, holding them out to you. 

“Keep them,” you told him. “Something to remember the night by.” 

“Sweetheart, I don’t think I need your panties to help me remember what happened tonight,” he chuckled. 

“Keep them anyway.” He let them drop from his finger onto the floor then looked back up at you for further instruction. 

“Now it’s your turn,” you told him. “Shirt off.” Without hesitation, Eddie’s shirt was off and on the floor next to your panties. You stared at his upper body, eyes running over his tattoos, thinking about how much you wanted to run your tongue along them. And you were beginning to think that maybe you would. If he was a good boy, of course. Had to make him sing for his supper. 

“Now the rest of it.” First were his boots and socks that were discarded quickly then tossed to the side, followed by his pants then boxers that ended up in the pile with the rest of his clothes. 

Your eyes raked over his body and couldn’t help but stare, feeling wet as you took in his cock, thinking about how badly you wanted him inside of you, about how you didn’t want to use a condom, about how you wouldn’t have been upset if you had wound up pregnant.

“Lie down,” you told him and he was quick to obey, lying down on the floor, his long hair splayed out around his head. “I don’t want to use a condom. I-I’m kind of turned on by getting pregnant by you.” You were suddenly feeling shy, looking down to hide how much your cheeks were burning. But Eddie grabbed onto your face, forcing you to look him in the eye. 

“You don’t even know what I look like and have decided that you want to have my baby?” He asked, wanting to make sure he was hearing correctly, feeling himself getting even more hard as he thought about it, imagining your stomach getting bigger, growing even more turned on as he thought about how it would have been because of him. 

“What you look like doesn’t matter,” you shook your. “You’re sweet and stupidly hot. At least, body-wise, and I’d be honored to have your baby, Eddie. I know we just met and I sound psycho, but I’m beginning to think that you like that about me,” You bat your lashes again as you leaned over him, your face getting close to his. Jesus, he finally found someone who had matched his freak?

“If you’re psycho, then I’m psycho,” he chuckled. “So, are you actually wanting me to get you pregnant or just saying that you wouldn’t be upset if you happened to wind up pregnant? Just want to be clear.”

“The second one,” you told him as you brought your lips to his mask again and he returned your kiss even though the plastic was a barrier. He was so close to ripping the thing off so he could feel your lips against his, but he decided against it, wanting to help you live out a fantasy that you had clearly been dreaming about for a long time. 

“Fuck it,” he patted his lap, inviting you to climb on top of him and you did so, Eddie helping you sink onto his cock, practically cumming as he heard the loud moan escape your mouth as he got inside you. “Bet you’re gonna look so fucking hot,” he rasped as you began to ride him, his hips bucking against yours as you moved together. “Already do. Fuck, I’m gonna love filling you.” 

“Christ, you have a filthy mouth,” you told him as your hands grabbed onto his shoulders and in one swift motion, he flipped you over so that your back was against the floor, hovering over you, his hair creating a curtain around your face. 

“Oh, you have no idea, sweetheart,” he chuckled again, pounding into you, watching you come undone underneath him. He loved being a bottom, but there was just something about being on top that made him feel so powerful and he wanted to be the one to be in control this time. Wanted to come inside you, watching your back arch as he filled you, fucking you even harder as he thought about your pregnant stomach again. 

“What do you think I’ll look like?” You asked through heavy breaths and Eddie felt like he finally had permission to tell you all the thoughts he had been holding back the entire night because he had been afraid of freaking you out. 

“Fucking hot,” he replied as his pace picked up, hypnotized by the way your tits were bouncing because of how hard he was fucking you, feeling his mouth collecting drool because of how badly he had wanted to suck on them. “Your tits are gonna get so big.” 

“You’re right-oh,” you let out a loud moan. “Fuck, Eddie.” A whine fell from your lips. “What else?” 

“Gonna make you wear tight clothes so I can always see your bump, a constant reminder of this night and what I’ve done to you.”

“I-” you cut yourself off. “I think I’ve finally found someone who matches my freak.” 

“Guess it’s fate that we’ve found each other then,” he winked, even though you couldn’t see him. “And I suppose it makes sense since I’m gonna be the father of your child.” His pace picked up, moving the fastest and hardest that he could and you clenched around him as you watched him reach yet another climax, a howl escaping him as you felt his cum feel you, even more turned on that in just a few weeks, you could have been carrying a child. 

You didn’t care that Eddie had been a stranger. You hadn’t had a connection like that with anyone and thought that he was right, that the whole thing really had been fate. And as you watched him orgasm, you couldn’t think about how you wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to father your child even though you hadn’t seen his face. He had shown you how beautiful he was just from his personality. He was sweet and kind and you felt so lucky to have found him. 

Eddie continued to fuck you, wanting to see just how many times the both of you could come until you were each both fucked out, until you couldn’t walk. So you stayed like that for a while, moans tumbling from both of your mouths as you both had orgasm after orgasm right there on the floor of the haunted house. 

The mask stayed on the entire time even after Eddie had pulled out and the two of you had gotten dressed. Even as you had fled the park, as he locked up, even as you both had headed to your car hand in hand. But as you stood in front of the driver’s side, staring up at the mask you had become so familiar with, your curiosity was getting the best of you as you suddenly had to know what he looked like. 

You slowly brought your hands up to the bottom of it, slowly pulling it up, a gasp escaping your mouth as you took him in, the boyish smile, his adorable nose and those damn bambi eyes that were looking at you with so much affection. 

“Eddie-” you said, finally able to put a face to the name you had become so familiar with and decided that he had suited him well. You brought your hand up to cup his cheek and brought his face to yours, slotting your lips between his as his hands moved to your waist, pulling your body to his gently. 

The whole thing had juxtaposed what you had just done in the haunted house and you kind of liked that, loving the feeling of his lips against yours, already knowing that you could easily kiss him for hours and not get tired of it. And before you could get too carried away, you pulled away to look back at the man, your thumb rubbing against his cheek affectionately. 

“You’re so hot that it’s unfair,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, but didn’t mind if he heard you. A wide smile broke out on his face and you couldn’t help but mimic it. “Yeah,” you nodded. “Our baby is going to be beautiful.”

“Well, that’d only be because of you,” he winked, happy that you could finally see it this time. 

“You need to stop saying things like that or I’m going to have to take you right in my backseat.” And before you could grab your keys from your purse to unlock the car, Eddie had you pinned to the door, his arms on either side of your shoulders, caging you in. 

“You say that like you wouldn’t enjoy it,” he whispered, his lips right by your ear. He then pressed a kiss to your cheek before pulling away. He removed his phone from his jacket pocket and pulled up his contact list before handing it to you. You quickly typed in your number and handed the device back to him before grabbing him by the shirt and pressing your lips to his one last time. 

“Don’t be a stranger,” you told him before grabbing your keys and unlocking your car. 

“Oh, I won’t,” he shook his head as he watched you get into the driver’s seat and turn on the engine. He was about to move so you could back out, but you rolled your window down and waved him forward. Eddie stepped closer and leaned down, watching you lean forward. “Need one for the road,” you told him as you puckered your lips and he was quick to oblige, pecking your lips then pulling away so you could roll up the window. 

He then moved out of the way so you could pull out of your space, watching your car roll by, immediately deciding that he was going to text you as soon as he got home, knowing that he was going to think about that night every day for the rest of his life, hoping that you wanted to be apart of it as much as he wanted you to. Well, he supposed you did since there was a possibility that you could have been having his child. And he really hoped that you were.

[plutotheplum]

Take a Chance with Me

zayne x fem!reader

summary: zayne gets called into work, so you bring him dinner.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, established relationship, smut, fluff, handjob, oral sex, p in v, office sex

wc: 4.4k

a/n: based on one of zayne's text messages! he's so domestic boyfriend core. this is basically just some soft, fluffy smut before i write a dawnbreaker angst fic :3

also on ao3!

Akso Hospital is quieter at night than it is in the day.

You’d been expecting the bustle of nurses and doctors when Zayne had texted you saying he’d been called in on short notice, preparing yourself for some sort of emergency. Thankfully, it didn’t seem that was the case, most likely a pressing surgery that had come up for Zayne.

Sometimes, you wished he’d take more days off. It was a little selfish to want to be wrapped up in Zayne’s arms all the time, but you couldn’t help yourself, the comfort and warmth his body provided was like no other. It was what you had been doing earlier that night, cozied up next to him on the couch, with a fluffy blanket pulled up over you both as he’d spoken to you about one of his past surgeries.

Zayne’s voice had a certain lull to it, the low murmur of his voice making your eyes droop until you’d curled up into his chest, face pressed into his neck and fallen asleep before the takeout you had ordered even arrived. 

Jenna’s missions had kept you on your toes for the entire week, your body exhausted and dazed under the constant stress of fighting Wanderers. Zayne gave you the solace of being able to unwind, although your boyfriend was as stern as ever, he was everything you needed. 

That was until you’d woken up and realized he was gone. Zayne had made sure you were tucked in, a pillow placed under your head comfortably, and your hair brushed away from your face. You’d been disappointed, but the moment you were awake, you couldn’t find it in yourself to go back to sleep, no matter how hard you tried.

It’s why you’re here now, the takeout bag clutched in hand with a couple of paper plates and forks stuffed inside, as you wait patiently for the elevator to drop you off at Zayne’s floor of the hospital.

And of course, I can’t wait to see the person delivering it.

Zayne’s text flashes through your mind, and your grip on the bag of takeout tightens. It wasn’t fair how a simple line of text could make your heart race and your mind swirl with emotion, a sense of yearning taking root within you. 

You spy Yvonne sitting at the front desk and you give her a small wave before approaching her.

“Hi,” Yvonne greets, smiling up at you, “here to see Doctor Zayne?”

You nod in response, holding up the bag of takeout. “He got called in before we could have dinner, so I figured I’d just bring it to him.”

“That’s nice,” Yvonne says, her fingers tapping against the keyboard, “Doctor Zayne finished up his surgery about an hour ago. He’s probably resting in his office.”

“Thank you, Yvonne,” you chirp, giving her smile and another wave before making your way towards Zayne’s office.

It’s tucked away into the corner, his name engraved on the plaque that sits adhered to the surface of the door. The door’s unlocked, but you’re not surprised, he probably left it open for you. Turning the handle, you poke your head in to find Zayne’s head resting on his outstretched arm against his desk.

His eyes are closed, so you step in quietly, trying not to rustle the bag of takeout too much and let the door lock behind you with a quiet click. Zayne remains motionless and you tiptoe towards him, setting the bag down beside his desk. He looks peaceful like this, his lashes kissing his cheeks, face relaxed as his chest rises and falls with every breath.

You’re not quite sure what you did to deserve someone like him. Zayne is sickeningly gentle and even more sickeningly patient with you. He treats you like you’re precious because to him, you are. You’re more precious to him than any award he could be given, more precious to him than the highest praise he could receive from any senior doctor in Linkon and beyond. You’re the only thing that truly matters to him.

Zayne’s devotion runs deep. It soothes your frayed nerves, and has lodged itself inside of you deep within your viscera. Sometimes, you think about clawing out the protocore-embedded heart in your chest and handing it to him. Zayne would take care of it, you’re sure, as he does now. 

He stirs for a moment and you still, slowing your breathing so as to not wake him. Your hand reaches out, brushing his hair out of his eyes, fingers tracing the curve of his cheek. Zayne’s nightmares had gotten less frequent recently and you were thankful for it. He needed the rest. You lean in a little closer, unable to help yourself, letting your lips brush across his cheek in a fleeting kiss.

The hand on your wrist startles you for a moment before you realize Zayne is awake, his head lifting lazily and his eyes blinking open blearily.

“You came,” he murmurs, voice laced with sleep.

“I said I would,” you say softly, cupping his cheek and smoothing your thumb over it. Zayne leans into your touch, letting out a heavy sigh as though some impossible burden were lifted off of his shoulders. You watch as his eyes flutter shut and let him nuzzle into your palm, his lips kissing the inside of your wrist.

Breaking through the relaxed atmosphere, your stomach growls and you flush, cheeks heating up. Zayne lets out a low laugh, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you onto his lap.

“You should’ve eaten,” Zayne says, brushing his hand over your hair.

“I wanted to eat with you,” you mumble, pouting petulantly.

He hums, reaching for the bag of takeout, taking out the plates and forks along with the food. It’s impossible to stop yourself from nosing into his cheek, lips pressing soft kisses along his jaw and across the expanse of his cheek.

“I missed you.”

“It’s only been a few hours since I last saw you,” he muses, tilting his head up to meet your eyes.

“So? I still missed you,” you reply, arms tightening around his neck.

A smile tugs at his lips, a knowing look in his eyes. He presses the fork of food up to your lips and you open your mouth obediently, letting him feed you. Zayne rubs his hand up and down your back from time to time, his lips pressing against your cheek with every bite he feeds you.

You curl into him when he finishes feeding you, letting your face find its way back home into the crook of his neck, carved out just for you. Zayne tightens his arm around your waist, thumb stroking over the curve of your hip every now and then as he eats.

“I love you,” Zayne says quietly, the fork settling against the plastic takeout container.

“I love you too,” you say, trying to press yourself closer into the heat of his body.

It frustrates you, not being able to be as close to him as you want. The sense of it not being enough, despite being flush against him, gnaws at you. Zayne knows this of course, can see the little downward pull of your lips whenever you get like this and try to meld your body against his as though you’re trying to burrow through his clothes and into him. He’d let you, if it was possible, keep you safe behind the curve of his ribs and close to his heart.

He slides his hand into your hair, cupping the back of your head to tilt it upwards. You smile up at him fondly, eyes fluttering shut when he brushes the tip of his nose against yours.

“I love you,” Zayne repeats, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“I love you t-”

Your voice is muffled when he slots his lips over yours, drawing you into a slow kiss. It’s sweet, the way he presses his lips to yours in a tentative question as though asking for permission even though he knows you’ll give it to him. Your head tilts, your hand sliding into the softness of his hair, nails scraping against his scalp gently. Zayne shivers and leans into you further, his hand squeezing at your waist.

Longing unfurls in your gut, the slow, syrupy sweetness of his kiss sinking through your flesh and encasing your soul in a warm embrace. You’re shifting on his lap, moving your body so that you straddle him, knees bracketing his hips. Zayne chases after you when you break away, not letting you leave him for long, guiding you into another kiss.

His hands have begun to drift, smoothing up over the skin of your thighs, squeezing at the flesh before sliding under to grab at your ass. You smile against his lips, fingers splaying across his throat before dragging down to hook into the knot of his tie. You tug downwards, loosening his tie from around his neck. 

“We can’t,” he whispers, glancing towards the door.

“I locked it,” you murmur, kissing him softly, “please, Zayne?” Your fingers go further, beginning to unbutton his shirt all the way. “I need you.”

Zayne stares up at you and sees the neediness in your expression, the haze that comes over your face whenever you ask him for his cock. He finds that he can never deny you.

“Okay,” Zayne says quietly, squeezing your arm, “okay, sweetheart.”

You palm him through his trousers, feel him beginning to grow in the confines of his pants. Zayne tries to bite back the noises you elicit from him, but it’s impossible when you look at him like that, your eyes all starry and cheeks flushed. 

“You’re always taking care of me,” you whisper, palming his bulge a little more firmly, “let me take care of you now, Zayne.”

Zayne lets out a shaky breath and you smile, pecking his lips gently. Pulling his belt buckle free, you undo the button to his trousers, dragging the zip down to see his boxers. There’s a dark spot on the fabric and the sight has you licking your lips, grasping his half-hard cock through his boxers.

He lets out a strangled groan, his head falling back against his chair, hips bucking up to chase more of your touch.

“You’re teasing me,” Zayne grits out, his knuckles white with how tightly he’s gripping the armrests of his chair.

“‘m making you feel good,” you correct. 

Your hand pulls his boxers down, and his cock slaps against his abdomen, thick and tip flushed prettily. Zayne’s fully hardened now, the tips of his ears reddening as you wrap your hand around his cock.

“Fuck-” he pants, running his hand through his hair, “d-don’t stop.”

“Not going to,” you whisper, hand tightening around his cock.

Zayne groans again, his thighs falling open a little more. Your other hand cups his heavy balls, massaging them gently, lips finding his again as his pre-cum wets your hand. He kisses you desperately, hips bucking up into your hand. Zayne pushes at the straps of your dress impatiently, pulling it down along with your bra to find your breasts.

“So pretty,” Zayne murmurs, hand splaying across your back to make you arch into him.

He mouths across your collarbone, all the way to your sternum before drifting down to try and stuff the entirety of your breast into his mouth. A breathless laugh leaves you, thumb swiping over the sensitive tip of his cock. Zayne’s thighs jump, his grip on you tightening, tongue alternating between flicking over your nipple and swiping over the whole of your areola.

Spit drips from his mouth, a thin strand connecting his glistening lips to your hardened nipple. You catch it with your thumb, feeding it to him, letting him suck your thumb into his mouth. He moans around it and you whine, cunt clenching at the feeling of his warm mouth over your skin. It has you feeling debauched, your own mouth opening to let a glob of spit drip down and onto his cock. Zayne’s cock twitches and he presses himself against you, his face tucking into the crook of your neck as he pants.

“Sweetheart,” he grunts, his cock fucking into your hand, “you feel so good.”

You mewl in agreement, hand slipping into his hair again. Zayne lets out a low whine, his eyes fluttering shut as he curls his own hand around yours, tightening your grip. You move your hand faster, swipe your thumb over his fat, leaking tip more frequently and tug at his hair to tilt his head and kiss him.

“You’re throbbing,” you whisper, lips brushing over his with every word.

“You tend to have that effect on me,” he replies hoarsely.

His cock throbs almost on cue, another glob of pre-cum spilling down the side of his length. You squeeze your hand tighter, dragging it upwards to see more pre-cum spilling out of him the tighter you squeeze. Zayne sounds utterly gone, mouthing at your chest to distract himself, lips wrapping around your other breast this time. 

He stares up at you, amber-green eyes shining in the light as his mouth stays enveloped around the fat of your breast. You bite your lip, giving him a dazed smile and lowering your head to nudge your nose against his. Zayne forgets about your breast, tilts his head up to meet your lips in a sloppy kiss.

“Cum for me, Zayne,” you whisper sweetly, kissing the tip of his nose, “wanna see you cum.”

Zayne moans unabashedly, his heart fluttering at your words. His hips buck up one last time before he cums, squeezing at your sides roughly as his forehead falls against your shoulder. Hot, thick cum smears across your hands and you hum happily, giving his cock one last teasing pump. Zayne shudders at the sensation, grunting softly as he catches your wrist to stop you from playing with his sensitive cock.

“You made a mess, Doctor Zayne.”

He huffs out a laugh, leaning back in his chair. You stay perched on his lap, watching as his cock softens. Zayne takes your hand before you can lick his cum off of your palm, his handkerchief swiping over your sullied palm and fingers, cleaning your skin.

Zayne kisses you again, squishes your cheeks to make your lips pucker out for a moment and smiles at the sight. You frown when he moves you off of him only to realize that he’s standing up as well, pushing your shoulders gently to make you sit down on his chair.

He sinks to his knees and you bite your lip, body taut with anticipation. Zayne pulls your socks off, his thumbs pressing into the arch of your right foot. You sigh at the sensation, eyes slipping shut.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, placing a reverent kiss to your ankle.

Your heart lurches, lips trembling as he caresses your calf. Zayne kisses up the length of your leg, up your shin and past your knee, his fingers squeezing at your flesh. He drags his lips across your inner thigh, landing soft kisses to your skin. His scarred hands graze over your panties, knuckles pressing against your swollen clit for a moment before he kisses your panty-clad pussy. 

Zayne repeats the same sequence of actions for your other leg as though he were worshiping you. A part of you wants to cry at his display of affection. There’s a lump in your throat with how nicely he’s treating you, but you swallow it down, losing yourself in the fond gaze he gives you.

“You’re too good to me,” you whisper, fingers running through his hair.

“I’m not,” he replies, kissing your pussy again, “I just love you.”

You swallow harshly and Zayne smiles, his fingers pulling down your panties. He thumbs apart your folds and lets out a shuddering breath when he realizes how wet you are. 

“All for me,” he murmurs, watching the clench of your pussy around nothing, “you’re all mine.”

You whine in agreement, back arching as he licks over your cunt. Zayne kisses your clit and buries his face into your pussy, licking and sucking without abandon. You can barely stay on the chair with how much you’re squirming and writhing under his mouth. Zayne winds his arms around your thighs and holds you in place, his mouth making lewd noises as he makes out with your pussy until your cries grow louder.

You hope his office is soundproof, but when Zayne sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth, you lose any sense of where you are, letting out pitchy, shuddering gasps as your feet press up onto your toes, digging into his back. 

“Zayne!” you cry, tugging at his hair roughly. He groans into your pussy, enjoying the sting of pain across his scalp. He buries his face deeper, kissing and licking until your pussy is puffy and slick is pouring out of you uncontrollably. “N-nghhh- no, Zayne. You- you have to fuck me!”

“Okay,” he rasps, pulling back when you tug at his hair, “up, my love, get up.” He taps your thighs and you stand up on shaky legs, pulling him closer by his tie to kiss him.

Zayne kisses you as you paw at his broad shoulders, pushing his shirt off to grasp at his muscled arms and back. He squeezes your waist, kneads the fat at your hips before he’s spinning you and bending you over his desk.

Your dress is flipped up, a squeak escaping your lips when he brings his hand down, slapping your ass. A giggle makes its way out of you and you rise up on the tips of your toes, wiggling your hips and ass for him playfully.

Zayne groans at the sight and slaps your ass again. His fingers spread apart your asscheeks, his eyes feasting on the sight of your glistening, puffy pussy again. You cry out when you feel him shove his face back into your pussy, licking over you messily and without abandon until you reach back and push at his head weakly.

You let your hips sway back and Zayne grasps his cock, pressing it against your greedy cunt. He curses as your pussy sucks him in, his hand balling up the fabric of your dress into one hand, keeping you spread as he watches you take his cock, inch after inch.

You let out a strangled gasp, the air being punched out of your lungs as he fills you up. Zayne is big and thick, his cock splitting you open, forcing your pussy to take him, carving the shape of his length inside of you. Your nails dig into his desk and neither of you seem to care as a few patient files slip off of the edge of the desk, the paper fluttering to the ground.

“Always so tight,” he hisses out, his hand curling over your hip, “such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”

Your head falls against the wood of his desk, teeth sinking into your knuckles as you try to muffle your noises. Zayne notices and lets out a tsk, his arm reaching for yours and bringing it behind your back.

“None of that,” Zayne chastises, “I want to hear you, my love.”

He does hear you when he presses your lower back down, his hips thrusting forward. You cry out, moaning and mewling as his cock sinks into you repeatedly. Zayne drapes himself over your back, kissing up your spine and landing a soft kiss to your shoulder, hips humping into your ass. The squelch of your cunt should be embarrassing, but it happens whenever Zayne fucks you now, you get so horribly wet whenever you see his cock and he touches you.

You turn your head back to kiss him and Zayne groans into your mouth, licking into your mouth before he’s moving back to fuck you properly. Your knees would buckle if you weren’t bent over the desk. His name plate inches closer to the edge of the desk with every thrust Zayne delivers to your pussy.

Zayne pants and grunts; you look back to find his face flushed, his eyes closed and brows drawn together tightly. He looks handsome, face twisted with pleasure and want; unadulterated passion.

“Zayne- o-oh yes-” you whimper when he pins you down, his hands grasping your hips roughly.

He ups his pace, the desk rattling, his belongings hitting the floor. Each snap of his hips leaves you reeling and you’re sure you’re seeing stars in the darkness of your closed eyes. 

“Good girl,” he groans, unable to stop himself from landing another slap to your ass, “my good girl- fuck- I love you so, so much, sweetheart.”

You’re practically sobbing, walls clenching around his cock so tightly that he’s cupping your jaw and drawing you up so that your back is flush against his chest. Zayne bends his knees and fucks up into you. Your nails scrape against his arm, head falling against his shoulder as his hand slips down to rub your clit.

“Take it,” Zayne whispers, nipping your earlobe, “take it, baby.”

His calloused fingers on your clit too much and your body is seizing up, the coil of pleasure inside of you snapping until you moan loudly, his hand slapping over your mouth when the beginnings of a squeal make its way out of you with how oversensitive you are. 

Your body shudders as you cum, and you try to push his hand away from his clit but he sinks his teeth into your shoulder in warning, rubbing tight circles until he cums, his low grunts filling your ear as his hips slow into a stuttering mess. Zayne bends you over the desk again, shuffles forward until his hips are flush against your ass, balls pressed against your clit, his cock stuffed inside your pussy snugly.

“I love you,” you whine, feeling his hot cum fill you up.

“I- I shit-” Zayne gasps, thrusting his hips forward a few more times as he feels your walls clenching around him tightly, milking every drop of thick cum from him, “Hah- I l-love you too,” he stammers, slumping over you.

You mewl under his weight, his softening cock slipping out of you. Zayne’s cum mixed with your arousal drips down your thighs, smearing against your skin. He lifts himself up after a few moments of panting, using his desk for support. You turn around, rising up on shaky legs and even shakier toes to cup his cheeks and kiss him.

Zayne wraps his arm around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. He deepens the kiss, lowers his head for you so that you can sink down flat onto your feet again. Your tongue tangles with his, hands stroking over his hair soothingly as you give yourself to him, body and soul.

You can feel his smile against your lips, the drag of his lips across your cheek and the side of your head to press several kisses to your forehead.

“I hope your office is soundproof, Doctor Zayne,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his middle and letting your chin rest on his chest.

“I hope so too,” Zayne says, flushing lightly.

You laugh, kissing the underside of his jaw. You help him pull his shirt on again, buttoning up the front of it and tighten his tie again. Zayne wipes the insides of your thighs with a few tissues, discarding them in the bin beside his desk, helping pull up your panties over your hips.

He fixes the straps of your dress, fingers brushing over your shoulders gently and the place where his teeth had sunk into you.

“Take the day off tomorrow,” you say to him as you help gather the patient files that had fallen off of his desk.

“You know I can’t,” he sighs, shaking his head.

You pout, widening your eyes and batting your eyelashes up at him in an attempt to give him the most pleading look you can muster.

“Please?” you say, sidling up to him again, “you’re overworked, Zayne. Take the day off, hm? We can relax together.”

Zayne stares down at you, his lips pursing for a moment. It never takes much convincing. As soon as the words are out of your mouth, he feels compelled to listen.

“You’re a terrible influence, sweetheart.”

You smile up at him giddily, wrapping your arms around his neck. “‘m just taking care of my lovely, handsome, perfect boyfriend.”

“Fattening up my ego, huh?” Zayne asks, dipping his head to steal a kiss from you.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. Your voice softens slightly. “I- I do mean those things, Zayne.”

Zayne falters at the hint of vulnerability in your voice. He can see that you’re shy about it with the way your eyes dart away from his, you always have been whenever confessing your more heart-felt feelings. 

“If you insist,” he says quietly, trapping your chin between his fingers to bring your eyes to meet his again. “But I think you’re the perfect one.”

You flush at his compliment, swatting his chest. He laughs, grabbing your fist to press a firm kiss to your knuckles. Zayne’s laugh fades when he stares at your hand, his brows furrowing for a moment.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, your own brows furrowing as you stare at your bare hand. There’s nothing on it, nothing of concern anyways.

“Ah,” Zayne clears his throat, giving you a smile, “it’s nothing.”

It’s strange. He can’t help but think your left hand looks oddly bereft in the light. 

Zayne thinks a ring would fix the problem. 

He dips his head, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips as he takes your hand, leading you out of his office, letting Yvonne know that he wouldn’t be available tomorrow.

Zayne drives you home, despite your insistence that you could drive instead, his head shaking sternly as he’d ushered you into the passenger’s side. You’re curled up in bed with him, blankets pulled up over both you, the heat cocooning you in. 

“Despite your Evol, you’re so warm,” you mumble drowsily, face pressed into his chest.

“That may be because of the blankets,” Zayne says, amused.

You scoff, but you don’t have it in you to come up with some witty remark, instead letting him play with your hair.

“I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow,” you slur, body relaxing further when he scratches your scalp gently.

“I want to spend the morning in bed with you,” he whispers, watching as your eyelids slip shut.

It’s only half the truth. Zayne does want to spend the morning in bed with you, but he also wants something… more.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You’re asleep when he whispers the words, his lips brushing your forehead.

It doesn’t matter. 

You’ll hear them properly when he gets down on one knee.

[sigh-tofm]

if you have anxiety… (some 18+)

… price

- takes charge. understands how hard it is to be a functional human some days. removes all the unnecessary overthinking you do. breakfast? omelette. workout? yes, a run. dinner? steak, and he will do the hard part. you chop the veggies. movie? this cheesy romcom. sex? of course, you just lie back and let yourself get overwhelmed by his tongue. can’t do much overthinking when you barely remember your own name, can you? while you rest against the headboard in the afterglow and catch your breath, he fishes a magnesium pill from a bottle and makes you swallow it, holding a glass of water to your lips. ‘let’s calm that head down, baby.’

… kyle

- talks you down. he’s smooth and he knows it. when you run yourself in circles trying to find solutions to problems that only exist in your head, he has a way of breaking your head open and making you see the light with only a few soft sentences. he lets you ramble on and on about all the things that plague you until he eventually says something that catches you completely off guard and puts everything into a new perspective. suddenly you understand how it’s all connected and what previously felt like world-ending problems now seem like minor inconveniences, if that. he knows that making you putting your thoughts into words and talking about them with him is the best way to dismantle the thought patterns in your head. a simple afternoon walk with him is like a hundred hours in a therapist’s office. and of course you get a quickie on the sofa after.

… johnny

- helps you fight off the restlessness and other nervous symptoms. always catches the signs, your trembling hands and wavering glances, and tries to derail your trains of thought that he knows might cause a panic attack. his first method is always making you laugh, and his stupid jokes almost always do the trick. if that doesn’t work, he knows jumping jacks are a sure way to fire off the stress hormones and adrenaline building up inside you. and if you come home all frazzled, nerves fried after a day of stressful work tasks, impossible clients and rude coworkers, he makes sure to tire you out physically and mentally by way of eight different sex positions over the course of three and a half hours. you sleep long and well that night.

… simon

- is at your service. literally becomes like your service dog. when you’re out and about, you just need to hold on to his arm or put your hand in his pocket. he’ll take you where you need to go, you don’t need to worry about it. if the hustle and bustle of the world around gets to be too loud, he’ll put a heavy arm around your shoulders, literally grounding you. you can hold his large, scarred hand if you need something to focus on, running your fingers over the ridges and bumps on his skin. like any good service dog he creates space for you, simply by existing. no one bothers you when he’s around. if you fidget with the zipper on your jacket or pull on a strand of your hair, he knows before you even notice what you’re doing. he’ll gently redirect you, guiding your hand away from whatever it’s doing. if you’re at home, he’ll sometimes place it blatantly on his crotch instead, to really give you something to fidget with.

[selarina]

Guys, you know how in schools teachers place the loudest kids next to the silent ones hoping their silence will rub off on them?

Yeah, this happens with you and Gojo Satoru, but you don’t rub off on him entirely. He carries his boisterous (albeit somewhat lovable) energy well into adulthood.

He does quiet down though, at times. Gojo spends his time watching you, not with any intent but with something closer to curiosity.

His eyes can’t help but zero in on your quiet concentration. You're all precision in a sense — the way you scrunch your nose, the way your brows pinch together when you don’t understand something. It mildly bothers him, how noiseless you are in all your movements.

Soon, the bell rings, and he realises he’s been silent the whole class, his time spent entirely on studying you.

His eyes trace your form as you rise, and join your friends, leaving the room without a second glance in his direction.

And what should mean you fading into the bustling background of his school’s hallway becomes finding you front and centre, everywhere — in the sports field, in the cafeteria, at the school assembly when you’re front and centre reading the day’s agenda.

And this odd phenomena lingers in adulthood too.

“Sir—” Higuruma’s voice manages to cut through.

Gojo blinks, a daze simmering beneath the surface as he forces himself back into the present.

“Yes, yes,” he says, brushing off the conversation with a dismissive wave of his hand and a cheerful smile. “Let’s buy them!”

Ijichi clears his throat, chuckling in unease. "We're selling them to Murasaki Industries, sir."

"Oh." Gojo’s mind catches up, but only just. "Right. Let’s do that, then."

His phone vibrates in his hand, and he glances down, the screen illuminating a picture of you as his wallpaper. You’re wearing his hoodie, working on a laptop, surrounded by the half-finished mess of the apartment you both recently bought.

The message in front is simple, reading: i’m here. i'll wait outside

He grins, already moving, already leaving. “Meeting adjourned,” he calls out over his shoulder. “I have to see my wife.”

Behind him, the murmur of exchanges continue. Higuruma and Nanami exchange weary glances before staring dead straight into Ijichi's shifting figure.

“Um—“ Ijichi speaks up, nervously.

"Yeah," Nanami interjects, his tone dry. "We'll need to revisit this. I have serious doubts about his capacity to enter into a legally binding contract based on this meeting. Under the Mental Capacity Act 2005, one could argue he wasn’t of sound mind—seemingly intoxicated. I don’t want you coming back at us for this later."

Higuruma nods, muttering in agreement as they prepare to leave. "The whole time, he was just staring at his phone."

Nanami scoffs. “Why do we need him again?”

Ijichi’s ears catch a faint response from Higuruma. “Well, he’s rich.”

[igbylicious]

consumed [san x reader]

pairing: vampire ! San x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, angst, vampire au, darkfic

summary: After getting a taste of your blood, San dedicates himself entirely to you — whether you want him to or not.

wc: 5.6k

general warnings: non-con elements, pheromone-induced ‘consent’ but reader resists at first, blood drinking, reader’s blood literally drives San crazy, he is delusional and obsessed and thinks it’s love, abduction, mention of San killing a nameless stranger to feed on

smut warnings: somnophilia, praise kink, body worship, vaginal fingering / sex, creampie, spanking, cum feeding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, biting, scratching, petnames for reader (darling, sweet girl, angel, love)

a/n: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!! reader is afab & she/her pronouns are used

“You’re not supposed to keep them around this long, San.”

Yunho does not speak the words unkindly, though his disapproval is plain to hear.

“She’s different,” San says quietly, shaking his head. He doesn’t understand why Yunho can’t see that.

They’re standing in the wide, spacious living room of San’s penthouse; decorated in an elegant, bare minimalism that leaves no doubt over the many digits in his bank account’s credit balance. Yunho hangs back by the exit to the foyer, like he already knows he’ll outstay his welcome with this topic of conversation.

San is not looking at him, staring out the floor-length window with his forearm leaned against the glass, tinted with a special filter for his safety during daylight. But the sun has not risen yet, though the city is already bustling with activity in the early morning. From this height, San can barely make out the specks of people on the sidewalks and in their cars; their minute size reflecting their significance.

No one else in this city matters. Only you.

“She’s already growing immune, isn’t she?” Yunho remarks, annoyingly astute.

The corner of San’s lips twitches.

Yunho’s objections are irrelevant, he tells himself, deafening his ears to the truth in that question. He has to, if the alternative is to give you up. He can’t.

Ever since San found you, a chance meeting at a hotel bar, he has been enamoured by you. Your tinkling laugh, the sway of your hips, that wicked glint in your eyes when you realised his interest. You made him work for it, to persuade you up to his room, but not too hard. Just a little game, both of you pretending that you hadn’t decided to fuck yourself senseless on his cock from the moment you laid eyes on him.

Yes, he’d been taken with you from the start — but it wasn’t until the elevator ride up to his hotel room that San realised you were more than just a simple, if particularly delectable, meal.

There San had gotten a proper whiff of you, undiluted by the smells of food and drinks and other patrons.

You’d moaned when he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, nerves creeping into the edge of your voice. You had also finally realised that San was more than just a simple, if particularly delectable, one-night stand; some primal part of your brain warned you of danger.

It hadn’t mattered at that point. You mumbled something about having left your phone down at the bar, trying to untangle yourself from San’s grip — but all he had to do was grab your waist tighter, yanking you back against his body as he testingly lapped at your jugular. San’s hunger was growing, and you had been powerless against the push of his pheromones dousing your susceptible human brain. From then on, you were a willing banquet for him to feast on.

(Still, San was generous. He still let you fuck yourself senseless on his cock.)

The longer he’d fed on you, the more he was dizzied by your scent; like he was breathing in oxygen for the first time in over six-hundred years. Your voice, sweet in your cries, pleading for him like he was the only lifeline still binding you to this mortal coil. Your taste… San never tasted anyone like you before.

Like you are his lifeline, your blood hot in his gut, saturating his veins with essential nutrition. Liquid sunlight, warming him from the inside. No one else tastes like this. No one else feels like this.

All of his plans were thrown out the window; to wipe the questionable details from your mind and abandon you before morning light. Instead he had taken you with him, given you a home, devoted himself to you with every fibre of his being.

His dedication never wavered, even when you began to resist the haze of his subjugation; when you no longer understood that everything San does, he does out of love for you.

But it’s not your fault — and San is not so fickle as to abandon you now. His loyalty is stronger than your blindness to it.

So how dare Yunho tell him it’s time to let you go?

“For fuck’s sake, at least turn her if you’re so attached to your little toy,” Yunho continues, and San’s face twitches at the blatant disrespect of you. A toy? “It’d be a kindness, and not only to her. Sannie, I’m worried about you.”

“It’s time for you to go home, Yunho. The sun is about to rise,” San says coolly, not even taking his eyes off the city skyline to see his oldest friend off.

Yunho lets out a frustrated sigh, but concedes to San’s stubbornness — for now. “This isn’t the last we’ve spoken of this,” he warns, and with that, Yunho turns away and leaves. He does not take San’s bad mood with him though; he leaves that behind to fester in San’s cold, deficient blood like a rot.

San stands alone in his luxurious penthouse, resisting a sharp urge to put his fist through the filtered glass of his window. He settles for digging his nails into his palms, a low growl escaping past his gritted teeth.

He needs you. Now more than ever.

The thought is all-consuming, hunger blazing through him. But right now, his devotion is tainted by rage, and he cannot risk to have you touched by it. San did that once, mercilessly rough as he took you; not even to feed, just to know you are his. He still has not forgiven himself for it. He never will.

But Yunho’s incessant meddling is not the only thing that has soured San’s mood — and it only makes his need worse.

San knows he has to be mindful of your health, allowing you time to recover between feedings. And so he hunted fresh prey, just a few days ago. It had been a brutish affair, sloppy and violent. San had almost gagged on the young man’s blood, a vile and repugnant liquor compared to yours, and left a scene of savage destruction behind.

(Hongjoong had arranged a clean-up afterwards, for which he’d heatedly told San off. Come to think of it, Hongjoong probably sent Yunho today too. He needs to stop fucking coddling San just because he is a few centuries younger. San could’ve handled it himself.)

Days later, the taste of inferior blood still lingers on San’s tongue, streams through his veins, and his craving for you becomes too powerful to withstand. He yearns for a sustenance and a comfort only you can provide.

No, San cannot go back to an existence without you.

Restlessly he paces across his home, through the spacious living room past the gallery and the master bedroom, all the way to a wide terrace that looks over the bay. Sometimes he takes you there, at night when the stars are bright, but the sun is already out. San ignores the terrace, heading to a relatively modest bedroom tucked into the corner of the penthouse.

A small, delicate silver key hangs on an equally delicate silver chain around his neck, resting on his chest. He takes off the necklace and uses the key to unlock the door to your room.

With his hand resting on the doorknob, San takes a deep, grounding breath. Already he can smell you through the white-painted wood, and just a faint whiff is enough to blunt the edges of his frustrations, while sharpening his hunger.

He opens the door.

Inside, he finds you laying motionless on a large mahogany bed underneath a wide, open skylight. Your nude body is sprawled over the velvet sheets, bathed in the warmth of the morning sun. At peace in your sleep. There is a golden cuff fastened around your ankle, with a long narrow chain to the wall; sometimes your confused mind beckons you to flee, to make some misguided escape attempt, but the chain protects you from making such mistakes.

San closes the door behind him as quietly as he can, careful not to wake you. Reverently, he watches your sleeping form, drinking in the sight of your steady breathing, how your skin glows in the unfiltered sunlight. Light that is deadly to him, but nurturing to you.

His eyes find the three scabbed-over bite marks on your naked body; on your neck, your inner thigh, and your wrist. San is partial to your thigh, mingling the sweet flavours of arousal and blood as he feeds, but every single one of them sings to him right now — angelic temptation.

Still, he resists a moment longer. He likes watching you sleep; the slow rhythm of your chest as you draw breath, your steady heartbeat thumping through peaceful dreams. He hates watching you sleep; to see you in a state of blissful serenity that only the oblivion of unconsciousness brings. He tries to give you that same peace in the waking world, tries so hard, but you struggle against it more and more.

He yearns to touch you, to remind you of true bliss, but even a mere step forward would make him burn in the sun’s light.

Some days he wants to. Wants to burn for you. Perhaps if you saw the true depths of his devotion, you would finally stop forgetting.

“She’s already growing immune, isn’t she?”

Yunho’s words echo through him, mockingly. Now that Yunho is gone, San can begrudgingly admit their truth. Your body is instinctively building a harmful resistance to his pheromones, like a dangerous bacterial strain resisting antibiotics. All San wants to do is cure your hurts, but your own physiology is cruelly sabotaging your happiness.

San’s fingers itch as he gets antsy. He’ll fix it. He’ll fix you. He will find a way.

He flicks a switch on the wall and the solar blinds go down. You stir at the faint whirring noise, whimper instinctively when shade encroaches on your naked body. You do not wake. Not yet.

Soon the room is engulfed in darkness, but San sees you clearly. Still, for your sake he lights a few candles, bathing the room in a different warm glow. Then he slowly shucks his clothes, dark eyes pinned on your slumbering figure.

The mattress dips as San joins you, the sheets still warmed by the sun. It makes San’s skin itch, but all discomfort fades when he turns you onto your side and curls up behind you, finding refuge in your body heat. San groans as you envelop his senses, and he noses at the bite mark on your neck.

You belong to him. It’s time to remind you of that.

Peaceful dreams still have you in their clutches, so you do nothing except sigh softly when San runs his palm over your plush thigh, then hooks your leg over his to open you up for him. A sigh becomes a moan when his fingers part your lower lips; sleep renders you almost as pliant as San’s subjugation does — even if it does not taste as sweet.

By now, San has mapped out your body’s every pleasure-point through his thorough explorations. Knows exactly how to press down against your clit to have your muscles twitching under his insistent touch. He hums in satisfaction at how easily his devoted fingers coax forth the slick between your thighs. It gives him hope.

San’s breath picks up at your heightened arousal, his otherwise useless blood rushing down to his cock. How wonderful would it be, if you are already brought under his spell once you awaken? He groans at the thought, muffling his sounds with an open-mouthed kiss against your neck. You squirm against him; your body is starting to wake, even if your mind is not quite there yet.

He suckles at the precious scab on your neck, canines elongating as he grinds against your backside. His razor-sharp teeth scrape against the scar that he has reopened over and over again — but San hisses, somehow finding the strength to pull back.

He mustn’t feed on you, not yet. Only when you want him to.

Two of his thick fingers have moved down, now buried knuckle-deep into your sopping heat. The faint squelch of it threatens to drive San mad just as much as your scent does, his every sense overwhelmed by the existence of you. He whines, barely able to keep himself from rutting into you when your hips jerk involuntarily against his fingers.

San knows immediately when you wake.

He senses the jolt in your heartbeat, hears the sharp catch of breath, feels how you stiffen in his arms. A muted shock rushes through your body as your mind tries to process what is happening to it.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” San shushes immediately, pressing a soft kiss against your temple. “It’s just me. You’re safe with me.”

But San’s dreams that you would awaken safely under his influence are shattered when you let out a pained whimper. You weakly shake your head, trembling as awareness of your current situation swiftly dawns on you. Feeble hands push at his arms.

“No,” you croak out, voice hoarse from sleep. “Hm, n-no— hmm, hmgh—“

You gasp as San’s fingers return to your clit, rubbing slow circles intended to soothe. “Yes,” he purrs. “Just let it happen, my love.”

He grunts as your nails claw at his wrist, some strength flowing back into your body as your consciousness comes back to you. Your other hand reaches to push at his face — but San’s sharp teeth nip at your fingers in warning when you almost scratch at his eyes, and you flinch away to yank at his hair instead.

Irritation and heartache pang through San’s chest at your incomprehension, and he helplessly listens to your babbled, futile protests. Soon. It will all be better soon.

“Please, stop—”

You break on the word with a wretched sob, a tear escaping your lashes. San’s heart wrenches at the sight. He does not like to see you cry, not when it’s like this. “No no no, darling,” he murmurs gently, the glide of his fingers easy through your sodden folds. “It’s okay, it will be okay… Don’t cry, you feel good — aren’t I making you feel good?”

You merely sob again, twisting against his hold, but San has you pulled too tightly against his chest. He feels your body tense, smells the unwanted pleasure buzzing through your veins. You gnaw at your bottom lip to bite down the moans rising from your lungs, but San will not allow you to fight it. He leans over your shoulder, licking into your mouth until your jaw slackens and your moans spill free. (You dare not bite his tongue. That’s a lesson you did not forget.)

“That’s it, that’s my sweet girl,” San praises. “Let me hear you.”

Your protests have died down to nothing but hitched breaths and hiccups, unable to back away from the inevitable precipice that San pushes you towards. All your instincts contradict one another, wanting to escape, wanting to chase this bright, fiery thread of pleasure until you are unravelled into nothing but pure rapture.

You choke back a throttled cry, grinding back against San’s cock. He whines at the friction, but stays focused on you; you come first. You always do. It won’t be much longer now.

He can tell by the way your thighs tremble, how your legs try to lock around his fingers. Your scent is overwhelming now; dizzying San’s mind with no thoughts of anything but to shatter your existence into bite-sized pieces. Still you try to resist, but San overwhelms you in turn, mouthing at your neck and working your puffy clit. The pitch of your moans rise, chest heaving with shuddering gasps, until you seize up with a strangled sob. Fresh slick gushes onto his fingers and San does not stop, thrusting three glistening fingers inside you to fuck you through your unwilling release.

“Please, please stop,” you sob, mewling with every aftershock that jolts through you. You beg him endlessly, convulsing in his arms — but then your scent changes, and the nature of your pleas shifts into something else entirely. “S-Sannie… please…”

The fear and nausea in your scent make way for your natural sweetness, embracing San in warm welcome as you finally call his name. He whimpers in relief.

You’re here. You’ve come back to him.

“What is it, darling?” he hums, nosing at your cheek. “Tell me, what do you need?”

“San, please, n-need…” You grasp at his wrist again, keeping him firmly in place as you falter for words. Your brain is in a haze. What do you need? Why can’t you think? One moment, everything was all wrong, panic searing through your aching nerves, and now… now…

San.

You need San.

You turn your head to look at him with tearful eyes, and smile dazedly at the fondness in his gaze, filled with heated affection. The flickering candles cast a halo of light around his face, shadows dancing over his high cheekbones and chiselled jaw.

“You… Need you closer,” you whine, aching as he smiles at you with crinkled eyes and a faint dimple. “Inside, p-please, want you inside me, San…”

The desperate yet demure request pleases him, a low noise of approval rumbling in his chest. He presses a tender kiss on your cheek, then takes out his fingers and pulls away from you.

You let out a pained moan at San’s sudden absence; to be without him hurts, the mere thought bringing about an excruciating burn inside your head. There is a strange pressure inside your skull, like a deeply buried thought tries to claw to the surface. But the pain is replaced by equal heights of bliss when San gathers you into his arms again, wrapping around you like a protective blanket.

He only moved to sit up against the headboard, now guiding you into his lap. You come willingly, eagerly, sighing in relief as his hands run over your feverish skin.

“There you go, my angel,” San rasps, restlessly grabbing at your waist to rock you into his hard cock. “So sweet, so good to me. Come, take what you want. I’m all yours, love.”

You whine at his offer and San’s lips spread into a slow, satisfied smile at your neediness. This is how it is supposed to be.

His eyes are drawn downward to your hands, and he grunts as you stroke him slowly, as though testing the warmth and thickness of him in your palm. Already he is leaking from the tip, a primal frenzy nudging at the back of his skull. Hunger.

Thankfully, you don’t make him wait long before you lift your hips and finally sink down on him. San throws back his head with a low growl, the pulsing wet heat of your cunt threatening to tear his self-control to shreds. His fangs have protracted fully, itching to seek out your veins.

Not yet, he reminds himself again, straining against his own impatience. First he needs to watch as you ride him; to see you use him for your own pleasure. To know his all-encompassing desire for you is returned in kind.

You provide him exactly what he craves.

Within mere moments, the candle-lit room is filled with your unabashed whines and the lewd slap of skin-on-skin as you bury San’s thick cock in your tight heat over and over again. Your pace is frantic, shameless in your desperation as you cling onto San’s wide shoulders, your nails close to drawing blood. The irony of that is not lost on him.

San’s head has fallen back, his jaw slack as he draws heavy breaths, utterly entranced by your depravity.

He lovingly admires the glow of sweat on your skin, beads trickling down the valley of your breasts that bounce with every snap of your hips. San is of half a mind to add a fourth bite to his collection on your body, draining you right over your heart. He licks his lips, groaning tightly when you grab his hand and move it from your hip to your backside.

San gives it an appreciative squeeze, but you shake your head and whine loudly.

Ah… message received.

You don’t flinch when San’s lips spread into a wide grin, his fangs on full display. He loves you for that.

He also loves the way your entire body jolts when his palm sharply lands on your ass. Your rhythm falters when he strikes again, your arms trembling as you struggle to remain upright.

“Want more, my love?” San croons, and draws his tongue across his deadly canines. A hot wire thrums through him when you mewl in confirmation, though he can tell you are getting tired. Stamina is not your greatest strength, not with your necessary confinement — but you always give him everything, wearing yourself out on his thick cock until your muscles give in.

Every smack of San’s hand against your rear is received with your loud keening, eyes squeezing shut. Tears streak down your cheeks, and San’s cock twitches inside your throbbing cunt. The shimmering wetness on your skin is a thing of beauty to him now; so overwhelmed by pleasure that your body seeks release anywhere, even in your tears.

San bucks up at the same time that his hand connects with your ass again, and you wail at the impact, crumpling against his chest. Weakly you cling onto his shoulders, moaning pitifully when San continues to roll his hips.

“Good, feels so good… Sannie…” you babble against his collarbone, the words tripping over your clumsy tongue. “Want… want…”

Your tongue darts out against his neck and without further warning, your teeth sink into his skin.

San grunts in surprise at the sudden sting, but then he chuckles breathlessly at your precious attempt to bite him. Your canines are uselessly blunt compared to his, only capable of breaking skin with the greatest effort — and you are already far too fucked out for that.

“Oh darling,” he coos, tipping up your chin. “Is that what you want? Then show me, my love.”

You snivel adorably, tilting your head to offer up the mark on your neck to San’s hungry mouth. Your quiet submission sears through his body, down to his crotch and his stomach, and San presses his nose against the old bite, breathing in deeply.

You whimper as he drags the flat of his tongue over the half-healed scab. Just a faint scrape of his teeth first, not enough to break skin, only to revel in the anticipation. Your heartbeat quickens, blood pulsing under his lips. San can wait no longer.

His eyes roll back with an animalistic snarl as he descends, fangs piercing through flesh with ease. He growls at the first pull of blood, metallic sweetness coating his lips and tongue as your essence floods his senses.

“Yes, yes— Ah, ah, ahhh…” You arch your back into him, slowly rolling your hips in time with San’s noisy, messy slurps. Your fingers tangle into his hair, holding him in place as he drinks deep.

Euphoria.

Pure euphoria.

Drowning in you, in the sublime intoxication. San can barely feel his body anymore, only distantly aware of you rutting tiredly into him, of how he humps upward with increasing force as he loses himself in your taste.

He does hear your cries of delirious ecstasy, right by his ear when his hand slides between your bodies to find your clit on pure instinct. With his cock and fangs buried inside you, you reach your zenith with violent force, convulsing underneath his blood-stained mouth.

San grabs tighter onto you as you writhe, forcing you to stay in place as he drinks unrelentingly. He groans at how you clench around his cock, hips stuttering when he finds release — but even that is drowned out by the frenzy of his feed, mindlessly fucking his seed deeper into your cunt while he sucks at your wound, trying not to spill any of your precious liquor.

Slowly your whines die down and you start to go limp in San’s arms, just as he grows lethargic in the aftermath of his indulgence, his hunger finally sated.

You let out a weak moan when his fangs retract with a wet sound, and for a moment San thinks you passed out; but your eyes flutter open when he pulls out and manoeuvres you onto your back. A weak rivulet of blood drips down your shoulder, but you smile up at him with glassy eyes. He must look monstrous, redness smeared across his lips and chin, but there is nothing but want in your gaze, and San thinks that perhaps his hunger is not completely sated after all.

“Did so well, my love,” he murmurs, running his fingers up your inner thigh to catch the trickle of cum leaking out. “Always taking such good care of me.”

He offers up his glistening fingers to you, and you accept with no hesitation. Tiredly, your tongue swirls around the sticky digits, taking all that San feeds you. It only seems fair to him; exchanging one bodily essence for another. He cannot give you his blood, cannot risk accidentally turning you, but at least he can give you this.

Soon his fingers are sucked clean, but you whine as San pulls his hand back, your mouth chasing after him. “N-no, San…” Your eyes glitter with unspoken pleas, and a fond pride swells inside him at your insatiable urges.

“My sweet girl needs more, does she?” San asks, bearing down on you with a pleased smile. He drapes himself over you, humming in approval when your legs reflexively part to make room for him.

You giggle when his nose brushes against yours, his sweaty hair tickling at your face. “San, you’re a mess,” you tease, running your thumb across his lips. It comes back red.

San just moans in contentment, pressing a bloodied kiss against your cheek as he slowly grinds against your cunt. Your giggles quickly turn to gasps, wiggling underneath his persistent hips. His cock is so sensitive the friction almost hurts, but it’s all worth it when you grab onto his shoulders to pull him into a kiss, heedless of his tainted lips.

Your tongue slides against his, and San laughs into your mouth when your nose scrunches up in discontent at the strong taste of blood. As insatiable as you may be, only one of you is a true vampire. Instead San kisses a trail across your jaw, down your neck. He laps at the dried blood, the wound already closed, then suckles at the surrounding skin once you are clean. His hands wander over your body, relishing your heightened responses to his touch as he slowly works you up again.

You sigh at the soft squeeze of your breasts, back arching when his thumbs play across your nipples. San luxuriates in the curves of your body, sliding down to envelop a hardened nipple in the wet heat of his mouth. He takes his time, clever but unhurried fingers teasing deftly between your thighs.

Breathy moans echo through the quiet bedroom, languid pleasure gradually shifting to something more urgent. You start grasping at his shoulders, tell him to fill you up already, and San has never been one to deny you.

He hisses as he gives his cock a few more strokes, but ignores all sensitivity to please you, to plunge his thick length back inside your sopping cunt, drenched with seed and arousal. San bottoms out in one smooth thrust, knocking the air out of your lungs. You gasp for breath as he starts a steady rhythm, careful to find the exact angle he knows will have you seeing stars behind your eyelids.

The lethargy of his feed forces San to take it slow, settling for deep, intense thrusts to have your toes curl into the sheets. He cages you between his elbows, pressing shallow kisses on your lips; and the taste of blood has faded enough that you can happily accept his mouth, tongues gliding against each other in a sloppy tangle.

You moan as San’s pace picks up, wrapping your legs around his waist. The cuff on your ankle presses against his lower back, and a tinge of bittersweetness invades San’s palate at the reminder that it’s is not always like this. But he shakes it off, choosing to stay submerged in pure sweetness for now. Enjoy the moment. Enjoy you.

The slow roll of his hips turns to powerful thrusts as his sluggishness fades, his strength now boosted by the fresh, invigorating effect of your blood. Soon the bed is rattling at the onslaught of his force — he is fucking bruises into your hips, he is sure of it, but still you beg for more, for him. He gives it all.

“So good, fucking me so well,” you keen, and San glows at your praise, spurring him on harder.

He does not slow down when you seize up around him; fucking you through your orgasm, through your body’s attempts to clamp down on him. He hisses at the tightness of your cunt but does not stop, does not relent until you’re sobbing underneath him, your hands clutching at his sweat-slicked back. His muscles ripple with every merciless thrust, low grunts escaping him as his own release draws near, but San pushes through with gritted teeth, fixated on the unrestrained pleasure that contorts your face.

Sweat drips from his hair onto your cheeks, your body jostled helplessly by the rough snap of his hips. Your voice fails you, moans catching soundlessly in your throat as you tense around his cock again. San reaches down a hand to find your swollen clit, groans when it barely takes a touch for you to release a choked up cry — and this time San can’t fight the way you clench around him. He buries his face in your shoulder as he whines, filling you up just as you’d begged him to. He grabs onto your hips to hold your squirming body still as he bucks into you a few more times, his cum leaking past his cock and mingling with your juices, smeared across your thighs and his pelvis.

With a final whine, San pulls out and collapses by your side, his legs tangled with yours.

He recovers slowly, gasping for breath, and his heart clenches when you curl up into him, wiggling yourself between his arms for his embrace.

San is not sure how long you lay there like that, with him gently patting your hair, your quiet breaths falling on his chest. Your heartbeat steadies slowly, and it pains San when he decides it is time to pull away.

As he predicted, you babble tired protests at once, weakly clutching at his arm as you beg him not to go. He allows himself a contented smile, but shakes his head at your pleas.

“You need to eat,” he points out, though he can’t resist showering you with kisses. He smothers you in affection until you’re breathless and whining — which is one way to silence your protests, he supposes — but San cannot be so selfish to stay and do it all over again. He needs to take care of you. “I’ll be right back with some breakfast, alright? You need to regain your strength,” he soothes. “After, we can take a bath together, how does that sound?”

San’s tender kisses have put a dopey smile on your face, and you nod sluggishly at his proposal. “That sounds perfect,” you admit. “Just… come back soon, okay?”

“I will,” he promises, raising your hand to his lips to press a last kiss on the scab on your wrist.

San puts on a comfortable robe that he keeps in your room for just this sort of occasion, then exits, locking the door behind him out of habit. He tries not to rush himself, but still he can’t help but hurry his steps as he picks up an already prepared breakfast from the kitchen. He does not want to return to find you have abandoned him again already.

An uneasy sense of foreboding fills him as he returns to your room. The waft of sex and blood still hangs heavily in the corridor, masking your scent as he unlocks the door again in frustrated impatience. San swallows thickly, praying his bad feeling is just that; a feeling.

But the door swings open, and San knows at once. He does not even need to smell you; your freshly tear-stained, puffy cheeks already tell him that it is too late, your heartbeat spiking harshly at his return. Your arms tremble as you inch back on the bed, subtly as though you do not want to anger him, but still putting as much distance between you and San as possible.

It takes everything for San not to recoil from your sudden rejection of his gift. His fingers clench around the breakfast tray, grief burning behind his eyes. He swears, it did not used to wear off this fast.

“She’s already growing immune, isn’t she?”

Shut the fuck up, Yunho.

San shakes his head, collecting himself. It’s no matter. He sets the tray down on a side-table, and gently approaches your shaking form on the bed. He will drag you back to him again, as many times as he has to.

[teamred]

after midnight

✩‌ logan howlett/wolverine x mutant!reader | smut | 1.8k

SUMMARY | logan hates that you never listen to him and you can't stand how he still treats you like a kid. but tonight's your chance to change each other's minds.

WARNINGS | smut, breastplay, oral s*x (male receiving), piv s*x, power dynamics

RATING | explicit

NOTES | this is more dialogue and tension than smut, but i hope y'all still enjoy!

The X-Mansion at night is eerily quiet, a peaceful respite compared to the bustling energy during the day with the swarm of students walking around. Despite the stillness, some nights, like tonight, make sleep hard to come by. 

You carefully tread down the stairs, through the halls, and towards the communal kitchen to grab a drink. 

With the flick of your hand, you open the fridge, its bright light illuminating you amidst the darkness, and glance at what’s available.

Times like these, you wish there was something stronger than soda available, but you settle on a bottle of ginger ale and levitate it towards your hand. You will the fridge to close behind you as you make your way to a high stool by the kitchen island.  

“Shouldn't be walkin’ around in that outfit, bub.” 

Startled, you whip your body around, clutching the bottle to your chest and holding your hand out, an instinctive fighting stance. You relax at the sight of him leaning against the doorframe. 

“Jesus Christ, Logan…” you exhale, shaking your head.

He turns on the low lights above the kitchen counters. His hair is tousled from sleep, and his usual scowl is plastered on his face.

Your eyes sweep over his sleep wear—a simple fitted white tee and grey sweats. Then you glance down at yourself—black booty shorts and a loose crop top. Sure, what you wear to bed is a little risqué, but it’s comfortable. 

“What are you—my dad?” you shoot back, sipping your drink and leaning against the counter.

Logan rolls his eyes, crossing the room to grab a Dr. Pepper from the fridge.

“You should put on a robe or somethin’,” he grumbles. “The kids could see you.” 

He reaches to untwist the cap, but you beat him to it, using your powers to unscrew it with a swish of your fingers. The cap clatters onto the island, a bit louder than you intended. 

“You know, kids aren’t exactly wandering around the mansion at 3AM,” you mutter.

He downs half the bottle in one go and you can’t help it, but you’re enticed by how his Adam’s apple bobs with each gulp. Your eyes sweep over him again, noticing how the shirt stretches perfectly over his body and the outline of his length underneath his sweats.

Logan may be an asshole, but at least he’s an attractive asshole.

When he finishes, he tilts the bottle towards you with a sneer. 

“Yeah? Look who's talking.”

In a flash, you swipe his drink into your hand and shove him against the edge of the counter. He stumbles, almost falling to the floor, and snarls a curse.  

Your nostrils flare as you close the distance between you, fists clenched. “When are you gonna take me seriously, Logan? I’m about to become a professor soon.”

He stands up straight, towering over you and matching your intensity.

He grits out, “When you finally start listenin’ to me.”

You scoff, the bitterness rising in your chest. “Oh, so that's what this is all about.” 

You shake your head, finding it all too familiar. Coincidentally, this was why you couldn’t sleep tonight. 

Logan jabs a finger towards you. “You never listen to a goddamn thing I say during training, always throwin’ yourself into the danger and I’m the one always pullin’ you out.” 

“It's just the Danger Room!” you whisper-shout back, not wanting to wake others. “And you do the same shit all the time, Mr. Hypocrite.”

“Because I can handle the risk."

“And what? I can't?” 

“Don't get cocky with me."

You step closer, merely inches away from his face, and raise a brow, meeting his glare with a defiant smirk. 

“What are you gonna do, Logan? Bend me over your knee and teach me a lesson?”

The words are meant to taunt, to push his buttons, but they come out with an edge you didn’t expect. 

Something daring.

Something that challenges Logan. 

His gaze darkens, and the room fills with a charged silence. His breathing turns heavy, his eyes fixed on you like he’s ready to pounce. 

“I just might.” 

The tension snaps. 

You’re unsure who moves first, but it doesn’t matter because you’re on each other, the kiss raw, messy, and all-consuming.

It’s a clash of hunger and fury. Lips crashing, teeth nearly clashing. His hands seize your bare thighs hard. Likewise, your nails dig into his muscled arms and shoulders. His groan turns into a guttural growl at the bite of your touch. 

Effortlessly, he hoists you up, and you wrap your legs around him before he sets you down onto the cold tiled countertop. His hand snakes its way up your shirt, calloused fingers finding your nipples, rolling and pinching them ruthlessly.

One gasp escapes you, then another as he thrusts his thigh between your legs; the friction is delicious against your aching core. 

“Tell me you'll listen to me,” he rasps the demand, his mouth now sucking and biting down your neck. 

Initially, you shake your head, but he twists your nipple hard, dragging a sharp moan from your throat.

“Yes,” you moan. 

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Logan,” you seethe, detesting how weak you are under his touch, but you can’t control yourself. 

He chuckles irritatingly, brushing your neck upwards with the tip of his nose, until he presses his mouth against your ear. “You gonna do as I say?”

You nod. A desperate whine escapes your lips as he presses his thigh harder into you. Your body’s inflamed, craving more than just this from him. 

“Then get on your knees,” he commands. “Show me what you got.”

As if under possession, you jump off the counter and fall to your knees as Logan switches spots with you. He drops his sweatpants towards his ankles and holds his cock in front of you, stroking it. 

You almost salivate at the sight. Not that you’ve ever imagined fucking Logan, but it’s unsurprising how long and thick it is. 

You start off with chaste kisses and darts of your tongue. A touch here and there to torment him. Minutes pass, and when he's had enough, he's about to say something until you suddenly take him in as much as you can.

You channel all your desire and frustration onto him in the form of crude pleasure to prove yourself.

Your tongue swirls. Licks up the precum leaking from his slit. Mouth sucks on his tip so hard, Logan's gripping your head roughly, groaning a plea for you to slow down. You disobey and relax your throat, allowing him to hit the back of your throat.

He practically has to rip you away to avoid an early end to all of this. His mouth is back on yours again with his drenched cock pressed up against your thigh.

Logan leads you to be on the counter once again. Impatiently, or perhaps it's laziness, his fingers deftly drag the fabric of your shorts and underwear towards one side to prepare for his entry.  

And he doesn't even ease into it, knowing how wet you are from just a whiff of the air.

He's not gentle, and you don't want him to be. You yearn for each deep thrust, letting his fullness fill you to the brim.

“Is this what you wanted?" he growls. "Me fucking some sense into you?” 

“If that’s what it takes to prove to you I’m not a fucking kid anymore, then—fuck—yes…” 

He answers every moan you make with a deeper plunge. However, the moans rise to cries. Logan puts a hand over your mouth, drowning them out.

In turn, the suppression of it only accelerates your climax and somehow draws out your powers. Utensils shake, along with the cupboards. 

“Sweetheart,” he warns with a low chuckle, still keeping a steady pace, “you’re gonna wake everybody up.”

“Don’t care,” you say, words muffled behind his hand. “Just keep fucking me. Don’t stop, don’t stop—” 

Everything shakes in unison with your body’s trembling. You whimper Logan’s name, eyes fluttering, until you come undone around his length. 

The kitchen slows its shaking as you come down from your high, and he pulls out, jolting his thick release onto your inner thigh with a sharp moan. 

Both of you are still, listening for any sign of footsteps or voices of anyone that is coming to investigate the noises. But the mansion is still quiet as a mouse, save for your rigorous panting and the hum of the fridge. 

Logan draws his pants back up and reaches for the paper towels. He holds them out in your direction, and, without ever touching it, you rip one off, wipe away the mess, and toss it into the garbage. 

Jumping off the counter, you adjust your clothes, but not much is needed since nothing ever came off. 

“So,” he says after catching his breath, reaching for his Dr. Pepper behind you. His body presses slightly against you, the warmth of his body radiating onto yours. “You gonna listen to me from now on?” 

“That depends.” You drag your ginger ale towards you with a tilt of your head. In sync, you chug your drinks. “Are you gonna treat me like an adult from now on?” 

“I’ll try, kid,” he says, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You shove him playfully at the label and he chuckles. “Sorry, it’s outta habit.” 

“But seriously,” he continues, his expression hardening into his usual tough one. “You know that I only say those things to look out for you.” 

That catches you off-guard. You search his eyes, revelling in the sincerity of his words. 

“I know, Logan,” you smile and nod. Leaning in, you kiss him tenderly on his cheek and begin to walk away. “Try to get some sleep.” 

When you’re about to leave, he calls out your name softly, causing you to turn around. 

“If you ever have another sleepless night, come find me.” He closes the distance and pins you down with an intense stare and a smug arch of his eyebrow. “I still have to properly teach you a lesson over my knee, y’know.” 

“Is that so?” you challenge. “Even after everything that happened tonight?” 

“Tonight was just a preview,” he whispers. He lifts his hand to palm your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. “I need to keep you in check so you won’t forget.”

You're drawn to him, wanting to close the gap with a kiss.

But you decide against it, not wanting to let him win this round.

“I’ll think about it."

Turning on your heel, you saunter away. His eyes track every move, every sway of your hips in those tight shorts, drinking in the sight of you until you disappear from view. 

Despite your tentativeness, Logan’s determined he’ll have another taste of you soon enough. 

[simjaexy]

Synopsis: In a bustling college campus, Heeseung, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon—are the ultimate heartthrobs, each excelling in their respective sports and capturing the hearts of many. One day, they come up with a playful challenge to see who can win the heart of the same person, you. A girl that was too kind for her own good, too innocent for her own good. As they each use their unique charms and talents to impress, they soon realize that maybe not everything could be a challenge. They can’t help that they want you.

Pairing: Enha Hyung Line x Fem! Reader (Completed)

Synopsis: Jake is the charming and athletic soccer player, known for his incredible talent and sportsmanship. He has a large fans following and the guy who can effortlessly balance his social life with his responsibilities. Jake's infectious smile and positive attitude makes him a favorite among students, so why can’t you notice him?

Wanna be Jake’s?

Synposis: Sunghoon is the enigmatic and talented ice hockey player, captivating everyone with his skill on the ice and his mysterious aura off it. He's the guy who doesn't say much but leaves a lasting impression. Sunghoon's dedication to his sport and his quiet confidence make him a true heartthrob, unfortunately he just can’t get your attention.

Wanna be Sunghoon’s?

Synopsis: Jay is the stylish and confident basketball player, always turning heads with his impressive skills and cool demeanor. He's the guy everyone wants to hang out with, known for throwing the best parties and having a great sense of humor. Despite his laid-back vibe, Jay would be dedicated to his sport and academics, coincidentally you are too.

Wanna be Jay’s?

Synopsis: Heeseungs the star quarterback, leading the football team to victory every season. With his natural charisma and leadership skills, Heeseung is adored by fans and respected by teammates. Off the field, he's be known for his genuine kindness and approachable flirty nature, but that comes crashing down when you don’t acknowledge him.

Wanna be Heeseung’s?

notes: this is my first time doing a hyung line fic! all of them have sexual interactions so MINORS DNI!! it’s best to read from top to bottom so it makes more sense.

[chososlilprincess]

pt. 2 of Virgin Choso!! if you havent read the first part read it here and part 3

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Virgin Choso who looks at your abandoned bag in the corner of his small living room. Standing in the little apartment he moved into recently, chewing on his lip anxiously. Should he text you? you’d realize it was gone eventually, and when you give him a call to tell him, he could pretend he hadn’t seen it. It’s not because he doesn’t want to talk to you, the opposite really, but hes scared. He’d probably be weird and act awkward if you two were ever alone, if you came to retrieve your bag from his home.

You and Yuji had been at his apartment earlier that day to help him move his furniture around. He’d heard the doorbell ring and when you had finally ascended to the top floor were he resided, Yuji had given him a brotherly hug, patting his back. And you,

You.

it’s the second time he sees you after he realised what he felt for you, and it’s getting increasingly hard to be around you. Especially when you keep putting on those adorable little outfits. He can’t focus, he can hardly breathe. Yuji, that idiot, knows that fact better than even Choso himself, seeing right through his brother. Which is why the boy had invited you today to help him. To torture Choso, to make him crack.

But Choso wasn’t weak. He could hold his composure. Even when Yuji walks past him and whispers, trying to hold his laugh, “maybe cut back on the staring a little today, she might actually notice this time,”

And now he’s here, all his furniture in the right places, but your bag in the wrong. You’d went to the gym he remembers, which is why you had it with you.

When his phone rings a minute later, his heart starts beating faster, already? he calms down a little when he sees it’s Yuji who’s calling, but his ease is cut short when he answers.

“hello?”

“hi Choso, it’s me,” its you. He can hear people talking and laughing in the background, probably you and Yuji’s new friends from your Jujutsu College. “my phone went out so i borrowed Yuji’s to call you,” you say sweetly, and before you can continue, a voice way louder than yours comes through the line, “she forgot her bag on purpose!!” Yuji shouts from next to you, before someone in the group can shut him up,

“not true…” you say awkwardly and laugh “but uh, is it okay if i come and get it tomorrow after my shift? it’s gonna be a little late though, sorry for the trouble,” he can feel that tugging in his heart, he’s excited to see you again, even if it’s only because of your forgetfulness. “it uh…it is no trouble,” he says quickly,

“thank you Choso…ill see you tomorrow,” and with that you hang up, and Choso is left with the silence of his apartment and the bustle outside of tokyo city.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

He’s sitting on the couch with your bag propped up next to him, did you really leave your bag here on purpose? why would you have done that? did you want to see him too? he sighs, wishful thinking.

He stands up from the couch and the movement makes your unzipped bag fall to the floor with a thud.

He looks to the floor, bends down to put the bag back when-

oh. fuck.

Laying on the ground is your used gym clothes, a big hoodie, some shorts, a top and also…

a pair of your used panties.

he freezes, his dick jumping at the sight alone. Theyre baby blue, with a little white bow on the waistband. fuck. no. don’t.

he picks them up.

He’s only just learned about sex, about relationships and about…pleasuring himself. And he’s already a massive pervert.

what would you think of him if you knew? if you could see him right now? desperately jerking himself off on the couch, whines and groans spilling from his lips, drool sliding down his mouth. your perfect little panties wrapped around his hard cock.

He watches as his pre cum makes a mess in them. he wants to make a mess with you. He wants to see you wearing nothing else than those same panties around him,

he takes them away from his dick and brings them to his nose. And when he breathes in the scent of your pussy, He cums so hard his mind turns blank.

And it hits him when he comes down, that hes disgusting. And your panties are ruined.

how can you make him feel like this. Without any cursed energy. without beating him into the ground. youre just existing, And that fact alone makes him feel so…weak? why does he feel weak?

He decides then that he needs to tell you, Its been building up in his chest for months. He needs to tell you that hes in love with you and that he would do anything for you.

he needs to tell you he wants to bury his face in your little cunt.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

thx to everyone whos been leaving notes<33 part 3 coming!!