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iznsfw · 2 months

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Lucid Dream

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 7 - Kim Minju

IZ*ONE's Kim Minju x Male Reader Smut

8,525 words

Categories | married man!You, wife!Wonyoung, daddy kink, degradation, rough sex, OC is not a good person

Content warning | cheating, humiliation, Wonyoung slander (it hurt to write but I read "Gone Girl" by Gillian Flynn recently so I guess that went into the whole wife-hating thing)

Skipping again a bit (still will do Chaeyeon and Chaewon and everyone because IZ*ONE best girls). Expect a commission and an IZ Days of Xmas fics this month again <3 I love you all, you make me happy. And as always, sorry for the inconsistency!

Wonyoung is beautiful.

You stare at her as she undresses in front of the full-length mirror. She’s the kind of woman whose vanity seldom rolls eyes because her adoration for herself—smoothing down her dark hair, strictly adhering herself to that keto diet, doing her skincare with the dedication of one who prays nightly to god (pick any)—is wholly justifiable. Look at her. Anyone would understand.

The dress she wore for her hosting show slips off her body. Her abs reflect in the mirror, the result of hard work in the gym. Wonyoung’s waist is impeccable. Magazines have written over and over tips to attain it but it seems that the signature Bratz doll feature can only belong to Wonyoung. The makeup was cleaned up by her stylist but her eyes still shine, her lashes are still long, and her lips are still plump.

Wonyoung is standing there in nothing but her underwear, an attractive set of lace.

Wonyoung is the perfect female form, a goddess from above choosing a man from below.

Wonyoung is beautiful, a feat that no matter how amazing besides true, she remains the same old fucking bore.

“Did you like my MCing, babe?” she asks.

“Uh-huh.”

Her legs, long and thin, move in planned strides down the room. To the bed. You know where this is going.

Your feet are killing you. Recline, welcoming yourself into the softness of the expensive mattress and pillows your wife paid for all in all. “Wonyoung, I’m tired.”

She’s a celebrity. Of course, endless days filled to the edge with schedules chase after her. She ought to understand. The nights are her only rest hours, yet with this energy, it’s like Jang Wonyoung never gets exhausted. Always bubbly, always sweet, always so seductive.

All these are positive traits that any other man would adore and own had you not married her.

Wonyoung makes an adorable sigh. “But you say that everytime,” she replies sullenly.

She’s pushing her lips out into this cute pout while her brown puppy eyes beg you to give in like you used to. Once upon a time, you were putty around Wonyoung. Never could give an answer without your voice shaking. Never could come near her without blushing.

She’s the prettiest woman in the world.

You’re the most awful, undeserving man in the world, for all you could think, as you look at her, is: Fucking bitch.

“Well, maybe it’s because I’m always tired.”

“How about,” she puts a finger on her chin, “I do the job for you?”

Her knees are bruised. You notice this when she drops to them so she could pull your pants to the ground. So she’s been doing this for so long? Lowering herself for you? Sucking you off? You thought that she’d get the hint by now: you don’t want to have sex with her.

So instead, she uses her mouth. Better than her pussy anyway. What are you saying? She’s a tight woman. But it’s the same thing everyday: she gets on your cock and you hear her annoying voice straining as she rides you. Her cunt, soaked and useless, makes you want to call her its name. She’s always needy. It isn’t flattering when you don’t reciprocate it.

It’s a goddamned chore. Wonyoung’s throat welcomes you. The other way around, actually: your cock welcomes a claustrophobically closed passageway and has to deal with it until you cum. It’s an unwanted visitor. She rang the bell, said hi, and you let her in. Doesn’t mean you like her there.

“Doing so good, baby,” you say. Oh, yeah, doesn’t mean you mean it either—although you do feel Wonyoung smile happily. She’s happy when she makes you happy. When she makes you give her the illusion that you have any happiness in this worn-out marriage.

Her lips seal around you. You can feel them suckling. Your knees are tense. The moans are forced, though. Hearing them come out from your own mouth makes you want to place a pillow over your face and press it down as hard as you can.

She slides you down her throat. Admittedly, you love the way she chokes. Her eyes get all watery, like she’s crying from pain. That sounds appealing.

You’re a critically messed up man, you know. But they’re what make the world go ‘round. Why do you think they write romance books about them—the bad boy, the mafia boss, the killer? Plus, one of those “terrible” people inspires the biggest Korean celebrity to continue hosting, dancing, and singing. So who’s so terrible now?

To conclude, if anything, you’re the one responsible for Wonyoung’s success.

To conclude, you groan as desperately as you can then release in her mouth. Wonyoung gags. Another pretty sound. Her eyes look up while she attempts to swallow. Saliva sticks to her chin. Semen floods up to the roof of her mouth. It reminds you of how it ends up there more often than in her womb.

You would’ve made beautiful children with Wonyoung in another world where she wasn’t famous and you actually loved her. You would have been a softer, kinder man. She would have been a person who’s easier to love and make love with.

“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, that… was incredible.”

If you weren’t a director, you’d be the one on camera. You’re a great actor when it comes to your wife. Your incompetence in the house is masked by husbandly exhaustion; an artificial gaze of attentiveness hides your indifference to conversation.

She smiles coquettishly. “I try.”

The wide closet parts. She chooses a pair of silk pajamas that hang around her thin frame. She climbs onto the bed and wraps an arm around you. Her skin is always cold to the touch. Like she’s dead or something. How interesting.

You stroke her hair. “I’d return the favor but… I’m actually gonna pass out. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She kisses your forehead. Wonyoung’s a sweet girl. “Good night.”

You smile. Say it back. Her eyelids flutter closed. Her palms are flat against each other and are placed under her cheek. Cute, you guess. She sleeps.

You don’t.

You should have—nothing good ever happens after midnight.

2:05 a.m., more specifically.

Amazing how time slips through your grasp like air. You reach and reach, desperate for a return, desperate for a flash to the past. As always, your efforts aren’t fruitful. The seconds pour through the pinched waist of the hourglass and you can’t stand it on its other head. You’re unable to revert back to the moment you took your arm from underneath your wife’s skull. The moment you opened your phone. If you hadn’t, maybe things would have been different.

But it’s past two, and you’re resting your back on the pillowy headboard with your phone in your hands. The circumstances just play right into danger: Wonyoung’s asleep, the night is eerily quiet, and the screen is there, awaiting the secret routine. Which girls would you cum for today? Why aren’t your thumbs clicking over censored sites?

Your feed shows a naked woman, her eyes staring up and her mouth wide. Scroll past that—you prefer the amateur videos, where the expressions balance between exaggerated and naturally provoked. A ton of videos could help in the bathroom where you take your nightly “shower,” and it’s not one of those.

Maybe you need the real thing.

Look at Wonyoung. Perhaps you should have let her ride you just so you could cum in a warm pussy again. After all, it’s the least you could do when you were once a fan of her. That’s how everyone starts: puppy-like adoration. But she doesn’t have the star quality she once did onstage; the coy thoughtful princess you envisioned her as. That’s why you haven’t fucked her in weeks.

You’re about to wrap your hand around your cock and ready yourself for another night of conflicted pleasure. This video is perfect for that already. You could jerk yourself off then get a good night’s sleep. Simple. This is the safest option for a dangerous want. By just watching, you’re not cheating on your wife. It’s just porn. Jerk off, cum, cum again probably, then sleep. Nobody gets hurt.

“Fuck me… please,” whimpers the woman in the video. Her legs are spread open. Her partner’s swiping his cock at her lips while she looks at him with equal hunger, equal desire. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Then, a text message notifies you, peeking from the top of your screen. It dares you to click it.

And it says the exact same thing.

fuck me please, i cant take it anymore.

i miss you

You look around, like you’re afraid someone might see it. There’s only the dimness of your bedroom that greets you. It’s safe, but this message isn’t.

The number is familiar. Has one of your friends gone crazy? Or did they send a text to the wrong person? Take it for spam, a perfectly coincidental one, or a scam, a typical, preying-on-the-married, pwning message.

But why would a contact spam you at a time so strangely perfect?

Don’t bother. Your fist works on your dick as you watch the video. The woman’s so wet that although she isn’t squirting, her juices start to stick to the man’s thighs. Her mouth is wide open as he finally pounds her.

What you’d give to have good sex like that again.

XXX-XXX-XXX sent a video message.

Fine. Click it, you’re curious.

Oh, so apparently, the answer is your marriage.

The video shows a face that’s more intimate than familiar. The ebony-black hair already tells you who she is, as does her body. Her form is encased in a floral tank top and nothing else. Although her chest is covered, she’s still a little daring with how her nipples stamp the fabric. She turns herself around to let you admire the curve of her wide hips and her round butt.

There’s only one woman with a body so perfect. And she’s the one and only Kim Minju.

There are reasons for everything. This is yours for why you didn’t give this number a name:

No one needs to know just from a text that you cheated on Jang Wonyoung.

That was so long ago, back when you were still boyfriend and girlfriend. You were drunk and missed Wonyoung’s old self. Why did she have to be such a bitch? Why did she dedicate herself to work and leave you dry? It’s not like the industry would go bankrupt without her. Minju came over, listened to your complaints—every little whine about Wonyoung being busy, every little jab at her workaholic character—then said something along the lines of, why don’t you have a little fun while she’s away.

And you thought… yeah, that was a really great idea.

That was the beginning of the end. After multiple secret meet-ups and raunchy sex in alleyways, you didn’t contact Minju again. You forgot her. You thought she did, too. She should have understood that your infidelity, albeit alluring, would be a thing of the past.

But here she is, in your messages, with a pornographic clip of herself in a round-cornered bubble. She’s waiting for a reply.

Although you’ve long lost your aspirations to be a better husband, you type what a good man should. This man is proper, faithful, and loving. He loves his wife only and the only other people he loves with this deep of a bond is his family.

Stop texting me or I’ll block you.

It’s not enough. You’re not a good man. You aren’t proper or faithful or loving or any of that shit. You were about to masturbate to an internet celebrity after turning down sex with your wife. What about that makes you a good person?

:( you miss me sooooo bad it’s pathetic, Minju replies.

You look at her again. You may not be able to turn back time with your metaphorical hourglass, but you can turn this hourglass body into any position you want. You could push her against a window for all to see, perhaps fuck her to the floor, or slam her on a desk like a teacher would to a test paper. Minju would let you do anything to her.

Stop it.

She really has to. As much as you dislike Wonyoung, she’s your wife, and you vowed on your wedding day to only have eyes for her.

But you’re only one man against a body like Minju’s that curves in every right place.

Three circles float up and down in a contained bubble before she texts you back:

alright…what a pity :( i’m already outside!! i guess ill have to go back…

You’ve never bolted out of bed so fast.

You look back at Wonyoung as you stand in the doorway. She’s still in deep slumber. Now, are the curtains closed? The entrances locked? Scan the house thoroughly, until you inch your way to the front door.

Hesitate. You didn’t know you had a conscience but here it is. It tells you to wonder if Minju really is behind it, like she said. She knows how to use the privilege of being Wonyoung’s close friend. That’s how she came to your house like she used to with no worry for paparazzi or suspicion. Best friends don’t fuck their best friends’ husbands, right?

Open the door. This one did.

Minju grew more beautiful in her absence. Her hair is silkier this time and her shy smile is brighter. The long coat is smoothed by her fingers, and you wish you could be the brown piece of fabric her pale hands run down. What makes you guilty for thinking it, even when you’ve done it, is the fact that she looks so innocent. It’s like it would be a crime to even buy her a drink.

How could she be innocent with that photo she sent? The time you spent together: you folding her over a table and promising to fill her up? Fucking her while Wonyoung is busy and counting on you to welcome her home? Sending nudes like there’s no tomorrow? Nothing about Minju is pure, yet she acts like she could do no wrong.

“Minju,” you say. Your voice sounds fragile. She has a way of breaking you befote you’re breaking her into breaking another bed.

She blinks theatrically. Everything she does is angelic. “Glad you opened the door.”

The knob is cold in your fist. It chills your animalistic brain and urges you to consider the consequences. Right, it says, here’s what a human—a good one—would think. If Wonyoung wakes and sees you with Minju, she’d have a lot of questions. If paparazzi are somehow hiding in the forest that extends to acres before your house, everyone would know you’re cheating on her. Most of all, you’re married, monogamy and everything.

So what will it be? This is your last and only chance to send her away.

You know what you have to do. Take a few breaths. “You have to leave. I’m not joking, it isn’t right.”

In response, Minju unravels the ribbon of the layers sealed around her waist. It falls apart. You do, too.

She’s a real danger. As it turns out, the girl isn’t wearing anything underneath that trench coat. She’s an artist’s naked muse—bare long legs, wide hips, and a sizable bust that has sculptors carving something else.

The cold hardens her pink nipples. You notice how her breasts are much bigger than your wife’s. How her hips are more tempting to grab, so you do. How her body is meatier, a lot more enticing that you wouldn’t refuse a day without touching it.

Minju fuels your infidelity, and you won’t stop for it if it kills you.

She simpers, fingers curling into your work shirt. “Still wanna make me leave,” she asks, “when you can breed me all night long?”

You laugh, huffing it out as you pull her inside and close the door behind her. Minju looks gorgeous pressed to it. She looks gorgeous in whatever situation, actually. Her thighs squish against the carved design and look thicker as a result. More reasons to dive into that shaven cunt and abuse it.

“You’re not leaving until we make a fucking mess, Minju.” You take your shirt off. Throw it on the ground. “And we better make it quick.”

“Of course.” She nods. She’s slyer than a fox, but she submits to you without a second thought.

You lean in to kiss her. The heat is unbearable. You can feel it from Minju’s body transferring to yours. It’s the effect of her natural skills as your personal slut: trying to fit her tongue deeper in your mouth while you pull her close like she’d dare to run away.

You haven’t gotten this hard for anyone else. It’s always been Minju you fall for. You miss the way she kisses, the way she roams her hands all over your torso, the way she’s goddamned insatiable. Feeling it all now in one, heated moment makes you dizzy. You’re taking in too much of her, but without her, you’d go thirsty again.

Your fingers are in her hair; hers are on your waist. Your teeth are clamped down on Minju’s bottom lip; hers are apart and allow soft moans to pass through—one, two, three. You fit each other in so many wicked ways. They did say misery loves company.

Open your eyes. The dream doesn’t stop. Minju’s still pushing her mouth in your face and you’re letting her. You don’t know if you ought to be relieved or downright horrified. You’re cheating on Wonyoung again with a woman whose body is just a bit nicer. You should be furious at yourself. You aren’t.

You’ve made out with each other on the way to the dining room. You and your wife worked hard for its designed walls and sturdy, well-furnished ornaments. A lot of money was raked out to make this house the best place to call home. So, why do you want to ruin it?

Well, because of her.

Minju leans on the dining table with a funny smile on her face. “She really doesn’t do it for you, huh?” she asks.

It makes you wince how you know who she’s talking about. Who else is she referring to other than poor Wonyoung? Poor, skinny, ugly Wonyoung?

Nibble at her earlobe. Hear little gasps come out of her. “Don’t talk about her,” you say.

You don’t want to have any afterthoughts about fucking Minju. Besides, being reminded that you’re disloyal to a woman who loves you very much is painful, even to a man like you.

Wonyoung is an angel. Minju isn’t—but you run after her to darkness.

“Ohh, come on, I know I’m better than her.” Minju squirms with erotic moans. Your kisses are going south, and she loves their little detour. “You don’t fuck her like you fuck me.”

When was the last time you worshiped Wonyoung? Like what you’re doing to Minju now? Your lips haven’t passed over it in ages that you probably wouldn’t know where the bigs and smalls of her body are. Like there’s anything to know.

“Actually,” you snort, “I don’t fuck her at all.”

You stop chuckling. That was the wrong thing to say. That was the wrongest thing to say out of the millions of other cocky phrases you could’ve thrown to Minju. The look on her face, the one that’s of pride and submission and dangerous knowledge united, tells you to watch your mouth.

You’re five seconds minimum too late to listen.

Minju grins. There’s the answer she wanted. “That’s how it is? Just looking at a girl and thinking you wanna stamp a divorce approval on her forehead? Jesus. This is why I never got married.”

“First off, nobody put a ring on you because you’re a slut, Minju.”

“That’s only the third reason.” Her fingers drape the sides of your face and tugs you in. You’re invited to the sight of her infallible tits. “These are the first two.”

The girl isn’t as busty as that woman Wonyoung likes to call her industry mom, but you bet they’re better. No, it’s a matter of truth. Minju’s boobs aren’t too big or too small; just the perfect, filling size to hold onto when you’re railing her from behind.

You choose to suck on them for now. It’s like a trip down memory lane when you kiss down her neck and collarbone. You remember how good her smooth, soft skin feels beneath you, how her moans are a favorite tune. Minju bites her lip while you do so to her shoulder.

It’s crazy to think that she just so happened to be born with this. She was born to be a pretty face with a sex-defined body that you pull and push and pry apart. Best thing is, she’ll lay back down and beg for more. It’s like she knows her purpose, which would’ve shot down her dignity and humanity.

Her nipple pops in your mouth. Your sucking guarantees its hardness, and Minju starts whining. She arcs her body, wanting something rougher. Thus, you seize the span of her hip to rub her pearl with fierce speed.

“Oh, fuck, god—” What others might take for blasphemy, you take for praise. Minju’s already soaking wet. She would have had embarrassing laundry to do if she wore panties. Maybe it’s a good thing she arrived wearing nothing.

She’s still so sensitive. You caress her clit after a few kisses down her midriff. She fidgets needily like you aren’t already touching her. You’re nearly right—this touch is nothing when she needs something harsher. That something involves you treating her less than a human being, putting her down and tearing at her hair.

“Please just fuck me,” she whispers. “Breed me, breed me, breed me—”

Yeah, that’s what she wants.

You don’t need further motivation, not when you’re presented with the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen. Her fat lips are soaked. They frame the clitoris you’ve been stimulating that shines with slick. Then there’s the tiniest hole below it that begs to be used.

Your digits shove past all tightness. Her wetness allows a deeper exploration, so you curl your digits like you’re beckoning the orgasm forward. You know how easily you can get it out of her. All it needs to get Minju cumming around you is a slap, roughness, and giving her what she wants anyway. You know your methods, she knows hers. It’s a recognizable cycle that despite this, you can’t break.

Part your fingers widely to spread her. She’s so wet that she soaks your knuckles. There’s an ocean inside her waiting to be waved to shore. A storm, too, brews from the base of her throat as Minju whimpers. Her body lifts off the table but you force her down on it. She isn’t going anywhere, not without a fight.

Oh, and fight she does. She was an idol before an actress, so her muscles still memorize the circling motions that repeat on your fingers rather than move onstage. She sang once. That was a long time ago yet her voice sounds perfect as it strains her moans. Every little thing she does is a reflection of her past.

That’s why when she leans back, pupils dilating north, and says “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you get deja vu.

Your palm hits her clit, adding impact to your strokes. “There you go, little slut,” you snarl. “Are you happy now? Maybe even a little grateful?”

If Minju’s ass isn’t pressed down on the glass mantling your dining table, it hovers so her pink little hole receives you better. It’s not without the help of her weak hands clinging to the table for dear life, but she seems to be losing her balance. Her hips are shuddering. Her beautiful face is squeezed up into a blissful wince. Her breaths are becoming blunt little gasps that say none of the gratitude you want to hear.

You slap her boob. Red blooms from her pale skin that deepens when another impacts her bosom. The recoil dizzies you. If anyone’s getting the impression that you’ll slap her bouncy tits until you hear a proper word of thanks, they’d be right. First impressions are right just for once.

“T-thank you—” Her voice cracks, breaking like her. “Fuck, shit, thank you, thank you.”

Squeeze her cruelly and pull on the perky nipple. Your thrusts become mindlessly paced. Your hand returns to your cock while the other ruins her pussy. The pleasure is telepathic. It’s connecting you; her screams and squirms make you do the same. The electricity firing up in your veins is a shared network. When you point your fingers to her spot, she arcs her back in the same direction. How beautifully fucked up is that?

“That’s not enough. You didn’t come here for nothing. What do you want, Minju?”

Minju babbles. You got your gratitude but not a proper answer. To be fair, she can’t speak when you’re fucking her like it’s your dick inside her, and when your lips are all over her collarbone.

“And you better keep quiet,” you add, curling your thrusts, “or Wonyoung‘s gonna hear. Do you really want her to know her precious friend is a big slut?”

However, despite the rumors she starts, Minju could be a very good girl when needed.

“Need you to make me cum,” she whispers. Her midriff is fluid as water with the way it rolls, showing off the hourglass shape of her waist and a soft tummy. “Do everything to me you can’t with Wonyoung. P-please, I can’t take it.”

Even if she can’t (wrong by the way), you’ll make her. She asked for it. She walked up to your house with a purpose: to be used, to be treated like less of a human being. So it’s understandable that you slam her down the table and seal a hand around her neck.

She’s so light that the forceful push doesn’t break the fragile glass. But there’s something of hers instead that’s going to be broken.

“Oh fuck! It’s so–” Minju’s eyes roll back. “Ohh… oh!”

Little sparks of wetness shoot in the air. Your pace turns merciless. With just three fingers, you puppet her body. Strings are pulled—her arms raise and her long legs strain to pull you in. You push and she keens, you pull and she yells. You’re making her desecrate the place with her water.

“C-can’t breathe.” A squeeze of her beautiful features—eyelids wrinkling, mouth parting, cheeks filling with scarlet—occurs before she squirts again. She whimpers pathetically, sounding so pitiful you want to laugh. “Ah, fuck, daddy—”

Something stirs inside you. When men hear that name, it ought to feel purely platonic and familial. They’d hear it from their daughter and feel compelled to protect them from men who’d do to them what you do to Minju. But you much prefer hearing that two-syllable word when it comes from a naked woman squirting all over the floor, from whom once you register it, you’re urged to pin her down, tie her down, hold her down.

Ironically, you release her. That isn’t because it’s over though. “On your knees. Follow me.”

Minju releases a gasp, grateful for the oxygen. The color returns to her face yet she barely has the energy to get off the table. You’re a generous man, and hey, it still counts as helping. So you yank her hair and force her on the ground. She fucking moans, a feat deserving of a healthy spank to her ass.

You walk to the living room. She follows you withher hands and knees bearing the cold tiles. You lead her to the place where you spend your time watching movies, rehearsing, and hanging out with Wonyoung if she’s ever home.

Speaking of, glance at the door of your bedroom. It’s still closed. It’ll stay that way.

Look down after wondering why Minju’s noisier. She’s playing with herself on the floor with no care for the cold chill of the tiles or the little dirt wedged between them. She lightly rubs her abused clit, quivering at the contact. You expect that from her—she’s corrupted, an irredeemable cause. She’ll get herself off anytime anywhere.

But what’s unexpected is what those watery eyes are focused on: you, in a framed picture on the wall. You look younger, happier. You’re in formal garments standing next to Wonyoung in a church.

It was you on your wedding day.

You spit on Minju. “Filthy cumslut.”

The drool slides down her cheek like a tear. She darts her tongue out and licks it. One could’ve thought it was candy considering the lift of a smile.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she says resolutely. Her fingers still toy with her entrance. They won’t serve her well when there’s a bigger, better thing behind your pants to do it for her.

Your pants are already off. “Get up. Get the fuck up,” you command, but you do it for her.

You grab her neck and force her up. The look on her face is addicting, the way the shock turns into carnal need, the way she bites her lip. You press her to the wall, right under the framed wedding pictures, and finally plunge yourself inside her.

“Oh, oh, oh!”

What did Minju do to get this tight? Her walls are squeezed closer around you than you remember. They’re still wet from her squirting, easing your burden of fighting against the tautness of her core.

Her groans are pitched just like how you pitch yourself in her and make her fight for it. She tries everything: gathering the strength she has to push her ass into your crotch, rolling her body, looking back to watch your cock disappear between her lips.

“So big, daddy!” she cries. With a lick of her lips, she turns to face you. “Mmm, d-do you ever get this massive when you’re fucking Wonyoung?”

That seals it. There’s no restraint in using her body. Her plump ass leading to her toned back is a temptation by itself. You’d burst all over it (maybe in it) if you weren’t already firm in breeding her. But dear god—it rises and descends into your angled pumps so effortlessly that you aren’t afraid to spank it like you’re angry at her.

“Keep your whore mouth shut.”

Spank after spank you bestow and you realize, oh, you and Minju are really made for each other. The more her ass reddens, the more hot pain sparks on your palm. She throws herself back hard, you piston her harder.

Your puzzle pieces stick together so perfectly that it’s a shame you didn’t meet under different circumstances. She could’ve been an adorable girl next door and you could have been a guy looking to slip her a love letter. She would’ve been your loving girlfriend, a beautiful wife, someone you’d actually enjoy touching, so different from the woman asleep in the bed upstairs.

But that’s never happening. Minju’s a slut through and through, and she’ll forever be a sin you won’t go to confessions for. She was made to be fucked then discarded of when she’s no longer of use. You see it in the way she’s in a mantra of craziness, the way she yells, the way she looks back at you like she’s daring you to hurt her.

You choose the dare rather than to tell her the truth. You curl her hair into a fist and pull her into you.

“God, I’m so close.” Minju’s trembling body grows warmer in your touch. “I’m gonna cum all over your big gorgeous cock. I can’t hold out longer, daddy.”

Your teeth dig into her earlobe. You could make her bleed and she’d still find a way to make the pain heavenly. “I thought I told you to be quiet. Is Wonyoung waking up and ending your life worth it for this?”

“What if I say yes?”

“Fuck.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice, making her see you’d give her away to get a night with me? You’ll give up all this stupid shit t-to be my daddy. Because Wonyoung’s just sooo worthless, isn’t she?”

Savage her cunt and shove your fingers down her mouth just so she could shut up. You love this. Minju’s always so ready for you.

No, actually—now that you think about it, you hate it. You hate how she’s curvier than your wife, how she’s more alluring than she could ever be, how she moans despite the blockage in her throat. Everything about her is so sexy that the sound of her choking up spit makes you throb.

This is the wrong time to have a conscience. You’ve already split her apart. You’ve already got your fingers in her hair that pull hard to the point that damage is highly likely. You’ve already—

—got Minju screaming, biting down on your skin as her legs spread. What a strange thing to have as a natural reflex. That’s all she knows to do: spread her legs, hope her innocent face attracts a guy into her home and his dick into her pussy. Her skin, white as snow, has become impure with red blemishes. You see her purple-bruised neck flex when she yells into your hand.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Minju yells. Her fingernails leave fine scratches on the wall. “Fuck, I’m squirting so much I don’t know what to do—oh fuck!”

You bump the manic girl up on your knee before spreading her legs. A godless squirt of her juices hits Wonyoung’s face, the savior being the glass protecting the picture. Others bless their homes with water blessed by esteemed priests; you like to stand out. Choose to have Minju’s unholy juice flood the photo you once held dear.

Did something possess you? An evil spirit, a god of fertility? All are clichés but you can’t help but think so when you notice how fast you’re pumping Minju. It’s like greed’s finally reigned you. It’s difficult to resist. Minju just wrings your cock perfectly dry with her tight cunt, keeps you speedy with her desperate moans. You’re vandalizing her with your climax and she doesn’t want to be clean ever again.

“You think you’re special, Minju?” You press her to the ruined picture. Her side profile mashes on the glass. “You’re nothing, only a useless hole, just like that bitch. Now clean it up.”

Her eyes light up in shock. Excitement? “What?”

You pull her head back in order to have her full lips pressed against Wonyoung’s face. The clear squirt is still dripping from it. Minju’s face is red, and although your cock left her moments ago, she insists on tensing like it’s there. Is that how she lives? Her way of bonding is riding on the high she got the night before and the night before that. She always has sex in her mind that thoughts of it occur to her as they would to an animal.

That’s right; she’s an animal. Perhaps even a dog would have more self-control than her, ironically.

“Lick your mess,” you command. “Now.”

Minju whimpers. You bury your fingernails in her scalp until she loses her fake hesitance. Her tongue glides on Wonyoung’s face and relieves her of the mess. Her lips part and close, taking in her own taste.

She looks like she’s making out with your wife. Her pretty face smudges the other pretty face in the picture and it’s so much hotter than it’s got the permit to be. Wonder how it’ll look if she’s actually kissing the real Wonyoung—picture them with their legs locked together and tongues coming out to play—and you’re hard enough for another round.

“That’s right. You want to be Wonyoung so bad? You want to be the one I drive into the bed everyday? So fucking make out with her.”

“Y-yes, daddy. Oh.” Minju’s moans fog the glass. “I taste delicious.”

It’s probably a hygienically reprehensible thing to do. But her mouth is dirtier than the picture anyway. You force her lips deeper into it until you pull her away, satisfied.

Not quite.

Rub her clit a few more times. Hose her squirt all over the floor. You’ll have a mess to clean up. Oh, there’s all the evidence: her squirt on the floor, her lipstick in the shape of a languid kiss on the picture frame, the mess she made in the dining table where you ate her rather than your food.

But it’s all worth it. An evil idea plants and sprouts in your mind. “Bedroom.”

Minju pants. Her hands are flat on the wall. She turns to you, saliva and lipstick smeared on her chin, and asks, “W-which one?”

“You know exactly where.”

Her wide eyes tell you wordlessly that she got the point. She’s well aware of what room you want to use her body next. It’s not even supposed to be a question given the ways and moments you fucked her there.

“But daddy—if, if she hears us?”

You grin. “Then you’ll have to be pretty fucking quiet.”

The best thing about Minju besides her body is her passiveness. She may act up sometimes but she still needs your cock, and she’ll do anything to get it. So when she hangs her head to hide her smile, you spank her. It speeds her steps to the staircase. Continue doing so all the way.

It’s funny how she struggles to even lift a foot. Streams of your cum and hers slide down her legs, staining the carpet. You’ll have to wash that out, too. If you have the maid do it, she’s likely to put two and two together.

Even from the back, Minju’s body is beautiful. Her reddened ass twists from side to side and brings attention to her wide hips. The deep line on her spine is a path you trace your fingertips on. She quivers.

“Daddy,” she whines.

Hit her butt. Let it fill your palm. “Keep on walking.”

It’s borderline dehumanizing. You’re treating her with a ferociousness a woman like her should never have to go through. The eyes of the painted men and women on your walls lock on her. It’s like their hard stares are real. Minju bears the blows to her cheeks during her walk of humiliation up the stairs. Tiny yelps are caused by each one. It’s in her to be quiet now that Wonyoung is quite near, although not as close as she is to another heavy orgasm.

You slap her pussy, making her shake, then lead the juices mingling in it up to her asshole. She chews on the inside of her cheek to hide her moan. She reaches the last step with a huge sigh of relief.

The finality of the torture doesn’t last long. Fuck, it doesn’t even exist. You collect the semen and wetness from her legs, then drag it right back to her pussy.

You shove your fingers deep in her cave. There. Now your cum stays inside her. After that, it’ll drip all the way to her womb. She screams through pursed lips.

Push her hard against your bedroom door. Her stomach’s flatness goes up to the point that it’s the only thing engendered into the wood. Minju’s tiny gasp is already loud for you. Her beautiful side profile is mashed deep into the solid barrier between the two women.

Minju whimpers. Is she scared or heavily turned on? The thing with her is she likes both. So, yeah—she’s wet at the thought of being caught with you, being fucked within a distance of your wife wherein she could finally pin down your infidelity.

The little angel closes her eyes when your words hover near her prone ear. “Shut up,” you warn, “unless you want to lose your career. Or this dick.”

You slip your shaft between Minju’s shapely thighs. A friction is nurtured and grown into rough, pant-accompanied humping that leaves both of you breathless. Her pussy lips splay warmly on you and you’re allowed to rub yourself on her clit.

Minju tenses up. Her breaths are kept to a hummed volume yet their huskiness gets you to fuck her legs faster. The core between them is so warm and you haven’t even welcomed yourself in it again.

You carefully open the door. You don’t know what you’re expecting: Wonyoung crying with her face in her knees? An anger you never knew she could have? But what shows calms you. There’s your wife who remains asleep on the bed. From the soft snores, it’s easy to tell she’s deep in a dream.

“Wonyoung’s so pretty, daddy,” whispers Minju. You push her to the footboard where she holds on tight. “Do you think she’ll want to join if she wakes up? Or she’ll leave you for me?”

“Are you sure you want to act like that?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Depends on what you’re gonna do to me.”

Everything. You’re planning on doing everything to her.

Push her to the small pole of the wood. You’re forced to shove your fingers in her mouth again to keep her from yelling. The contact it makes to her clit is already overwhelming. But she’s all for overwhelming—she wants the kind of sex that leaves her beaten and bruised, the kind that leaves her sore and not knowing if she should tell you to keep going or halt.

You know what she’d choose.

Minju grinds on the pole. She’s dancing her hips again. Somehow, things of the past don’t leave her. Her idol days still leave an impact on her. The guy she made cheat on his wife a long time ago returned to her life to cheat again.

No, you’ve never been one for sentimentality, but things have somehow stayed the same. The slut that is Minju today was a slut all those years ago, too.

Grab her hips and force her to hump the ball of the pole. She soaks it instantly. Minju is corrupted to no hope of return. There’s your cum, leaking from her pussy and to the bedsheets. Her juices wet the pole and increase the creaking noises that would wake Wonyoung up if not for whatever dream she’s having.

“Oh, daddy! Oh, daaaddy—” she stammers, words bitten and broken in the major need to be quiet. “Just… fuck me. Please?”

“As long as you—”

“Be a good quiet girl, yes. I’ll do anything, daddy. Anything for this cock.”

She kneels down. Her tender mouth seals around your left testicle. You nearly shout right there and then. Minju’s running her lips on the underside of your swelling dick. She feels so good, and she is so good. She has all the tips and tricks to keep you hard memorized, if her brain wasn’t too full of other dirty thoughts.

The rasp in your throat materializes and makes her squirm her legs together. She puckers her lips then slips your cock through their joined entrance. Her almond eyes look wider tonight. Your tip pokes the back of her throat. She lets it rub there for now. You find pleasure in the texture that makes you leak. No, you can’t cum. Not yet.

Take a last look at Wonyoung before diving your rod to the depths of Minju’s throat.

It’s funny that the girl still has a gag reflex. Sucking dick is second nature to her. So is getting throatfucked. The walls of her oral hole flex to keep you in. She makes sharp inhalations only to take in the musky scent you thrust on her. In her?

Choking comes after. The orifice grows tighter which makes you fuck it harder. Saliva’s slick liquid state sheens your erection. Minju’s lost her breath a long time ago but she’s lost more than that now. The regular beat of her heart is gone. You can’t search her face for any color other than the palest white.

“You have to stop gagging, Minju,” you say. Don’t help her though; keep ruining that throat. “Maybe you really do wanna get caught. Makes you really wet, doesn’t it?”

She nods. Your hard tip bobs in her mouth as she does. Her pretty eyes, with their long lashes and big pupils that always seem to gleam with innocence, fill with watery tears.

“How cute.” You’re surprised that her hair is intact to her scalp after you pull it back. “But I make the rules around here. And I need you to seal that mouth shut and use it for good.”

There’s a possibility that, like Minju, you’re a dancer as well. But the upward grind of your body has no grace in it. It’s a rough, punked up beat that renders the girl humming and screaming. This roughness is nowhere close to natural.

You dip your cock in her just to see how far you could go, how far is needed to keep her quiet. Feed her more than she could suck. Every sensitive spot of yours is on fire thanks to Minju’s dutiful tongue and hard sucking. Your sack slaps her chin so hard it’s surprising it doesn’t hurt.

But, like you iterated, Minju isn’t normal. She takes the pain for pleasure and doesn’t give a damn if she gets wounded because of it.

The tears finally fall from her eyes.

The lines blur. Who is she—the woman asleep on your bed or the woman you fucked to be disloyal to her? Minju’s beautiful; so is Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung is beautiful but there’s a category of beauty wherein the girl you’re destroying right now falls in. That’s the section for women who look pretty when they cry, who’ve accepted they’re as fucked up as whoever finds them and takes them in for who they are.

Your wife is pretty. You guess. But Minju is a beauty who lets you do everything to her, and that makes her a little bit more important.

Defile, defile, defile. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you get cum in her hair—(”I have a photoshoot, babe, you can’t!”). Semen sticks to Minju’s locks right now. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you be this rough with her—(“And what if they see? I shouldn’t look dirty to the fans.”) Minju is sitting there taking it like she’s just a cum dump. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you tear off her clothes because “they’re couture so it’s not really mine.” The coat Minju wore coming here lies discarded on the first floor.

Wonyoung doesn’t let anyone defile her. It’s her most fatal flaw. It’s the flaw that makes her husband see all the tiny imperfections she doesn’t allow the camera to see and chase highs in another woman’s throat.

So when Minju cries, gags, chokes—you realize it’s all so simple.

Slip out of her. The delusions clouding your head make you steal a look at the bed. Oh, now it’s unbelievable. Wonyoung is still asleep.

Not that it’s any inconvenience to you.

You prop Minju up to the vanity table. The counter carries the heave of her small chest. She can barely lift her head up. It makes her carry a look of humiliation that’s not at all true. She’s the most shameless woman you’ve ever met.

“Daddy… daddy…”

Twist her chin so she can look at herself in the mirror. Her body is amazing despite the handprints and bruises peppered on her stomach, butt, and neck. She flusters but your finger presses on her lips before she can look away.

“Not a single sound,” you remind her.

She nods. Good girl.

Minju’s a capable girl. Well, mostly. She offers those amazing dicksucking lips, shapely curves, and sometimes, her ass for ruining its own tightness. But nothing beats the feeling of her cunt. It’s all the right things: wet, tight, and perfectly quivering as they wrap around your shaft.

Minju closes her eyes. Bites down on her lip. She fights to be true to her promise of silence. Being a good girl and bad girl simultaneously is one of her versatile traits. The table creaks louder than expected. You would’ve shot another look at your spouse again, but Minju’s pretty face is in the way. Her cheeks are scarlet and her brows bead with sweat. She really is a beauty.

Your strokes are ceaseless. The thing that shocks you the least is the fact that her legs look as if they spread wider and wider. She splits while you split her apart. Place a hand on her tummy to muffle the sounds of skin colliding and wood creaking, and reach a better end: your cock is hitting her guts, making a bobbing print on her flat stomach.

“Look how deep I am, Minju.” You grin wickedly at her reflection. “You call me daddy anywhere, don’t you? How about I become a real one?”

Minju bounces herself on you. That’s a yes. A definite, enthusiastic yes.

Your penetration is rougher, gliding on places she can’t even imagine. If you cum right now, and this far in, you’ll live up to your name of “daddy.” Minju isn’t the only one who has to keep promises.

Corner a pulse point on her neck. Her core squeezes and although its resistance is tough, your pumps are more so.

“You’ll be my secret good girl. Daddy’s gonna put a fucking baby in your stomach, and no one has to know it’s mine. No one has to know you’re mine.”

Minju pouts, not out of sadness but of the orgasm that’s creeping from her feet to her center. It’s so close she could reach for it, taste it like a strong wind. You allow the tiny breaths and pants that leave her to be exemptions from your bedroom law.

“Wonyoung would be so happy for you.” You lick the sensitive spot behind her ear. “‘That’s so great, unnie! Come on, tell us who’s the lucky guy.’ And you’ll have to stop yourself from telling her that I did it. Can you do that?”

Minju emphasizes each repetition with a responding throb and push of her cunt. “Yes, yes, yes—”

Allow that, too. Burst inside Minju. Flood her insides with cum that shall infiltrate her fertile womb. Soon, that tummy would be round rather than flat. It’ll be your baby.

Minju got what she wanted in the end.

The next day, Wonyoung will wake up crying.

It’ll happen early in the morning, when the moon is still up and sheets still wrap your exhausted form. But she’s sobbing so loud that it’ll rouse you.

“What’s wrong?” you’ll say.

She’ll tell you about a dream she had. Wonyoung’s going to narrate a complex dream of Minju, her beloved former member and best friend, seducing you. It happened right in the house and in front of her. You dared to do it to her while she was sleeping and thought she didn’t know.

And you?

You’ll take her in your arms, kiss the inside of her trembling wrist, and say, “Oh, honey—it’s okay. I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”

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henry-fox-biggest-stan · 4 months

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Me because the Percy Jackson series is actually about the different cycles of abuse, which include abuse within romantic partners (Sally and Gabe), abuse between “family” (Percy and Gabe, Meg and Nero), abuse from people in positions of power (the gods over the demigods), and so on, oppression than ranges from having adhd in the public educational system to being forced to perform quests for your entire life for people who could not care less about your well-being, how camp is both somewhere safe but also the bittersweet taste of arriving there and realizing you can never escape, you can never be normal your life will never be the same. There’s no turning back. How Luke was right on theory but not on acts, how these kids got around the idea to never make it to 18, and how there was nothing they could do about that. How many of them sat in their cabins, counting down the days until their sibling/friend/partner came back, only for them to not come back at all. Was it ever their turn to leave someone waiting behind? Annabeth, Percy, Grover, Thalia, the whole deal with Nico, Bianca, Silena, and every single demigod. Children of Apollo were the camp healers, was it a choice? A moral obligation? In camp Jupiter there’s Jason, there’s Reyna, Piper’s story, Leo’s story, the way Jason and Piper’s relationship was heteronormativity pushed by Hero because both of them were queer but she wanted a perfect couple. After being gone missing, people searched for Percy, but Jason? The devastation of Leo and Jason’s relationship, how Leo never knew his feelings for him were required, how both Leo and Piper thought they knew Jason but it was all fake memories, how Jason never fully got his memories back. Hazel’s story, Frank’s story, how Nico and Leo’s mutual dislike for each other comes from a place of understatement. How they both see themselves in each other and look away as one looks away from a mirror when they dislike their reflection. They are both so similar, almost the same. They both are also autistic, except Leo is always masking, and Nico never really learnt how to. Neurodivergence, adhd and dyslexia. Being a demigod is a metaphor for neurodiversity. Was Dionysus actual punishment looking over camp? Or was it spending years and years seeing demigods come and grow and die? Knowing there was nothing he could do about it? Knowing than if he was with the gods, he would be causing their deaths, instead of grieving them? Does Chiron feel hopeless? Memory, names, ghosts. Blades, swords, arrows, blood. So many blood, blood-stained hands. Monsters follow you before coming to camp, did they hurt you family? It was all your fault. They don’t want you to come back, you bring danger, you’re more dangerous than the monster, you are a monster yourself, after all the Minotaur was a demigod too. Leo killed his mother, Zeus killed Maria, Sally got taken to the underworld, Tristan was held hostage, Fredrick and his wife and sons got attacked by monsters, and who’s fault it was? You run away you keep on running but you’ll never outrun the danger because the danger is yourself, you are at fault, how do you run away now?

The odyssey, the iliad, the statues in museums, you look at them, do you see yourself? Do you see any resemble? Your nose kinda looks like theirs, the shape of their lips, the width of their hands, but that’s a lie you’re nothing like them, never will be, is that a tragedy? Do you want to be like them? Do you want to be a hero and die a heroic death? Or do you simply wish to visit your family on Christmas and live the life your little cousins will eventually live? Maybe you’ll never see the life they’ll live, maybe you’ll die before seeing it. There’s nothing to be done about that, you just have to accept it. Don’t you feel the rage, bubbling inside of you, making your hands shake? What can you do with it? Not much, remember last time, remember Luke, what did he accomplish? Nothing, blood, screams. You remember the war, you remember the city, maybe it was the first or the second time you set a foot on it, now every single time you do (if you do) in the future, it will be tainted. Look in that corner, that used to be destroyed. Look at that building, my friend died against that wall, that road was filled with blood. Was it ours? Theirs? Is there even a difference between us? Should there be? Why were you on your side? Why were they in theirs? Who was right? Who was wrong? You can go anywhere but home, maybe you’re not welcomed, maybe there’s no home to return, maybe it’s better for everyone if you don’t return. Nico keeps Bianca’s jacket, Leo taps iloveyou on Morse code. Piper was forced to be someone she wasn’t, she thought she was someone she was not, she was forced to think that. Who is she? Is she even who she thought she was? Jason still don’t remembers everything, and him? Who is he? Nico will never get his memories back, he wonders about his mom, did he have more family back then? Grandparents, aunts? Hazel is a walking curse. Silena and Clarisse as Patroklos and Achilles. Apollo seeing the brutal reality of demigods’ life on trials of apollo.

Your hand shakes, the sword you hold moves, you feel it’s weight, do you want to hold it? Do you have to?

The dead come back to haunt us, Nico sees Bianca everywhere, Leo still remembers his mother’s voice, Hazel came back from the dead, Frank holds his life on his pocket, Thalia lost a brother twice, Leo didn’t really die, Jason died instead, Percy wished to drown himself, half of camp still waits for their brother to come back, even if it has been months, even if it has been years. Luke’s mother still waits, was she crazy? The campers who thought to recognize their friend’s face for a second before remembering than it couldn’t possibly be them, were they crazy too? Who was crazier? Luke’s mother who did not remember, or the campers who did? The underworld has no mercy only justice, but the world has no justice only mercy. You might get mercy, but you never will get justice. Was it fair anything than happened to them? You might be spared in a war or in a battle out of mercy, out of pity, out of recognition, but that didn’t stop you from having to fight in it, that didn’t stop you from having to wield the sword. Spare all the people you want, turn a blind eye to whatever you want, mercy? sure, but you were still holding the sword, you were still supposed to fight, you still weren’t in charge of your life. How was that justice? How was that fair? Names had power, even their names had more power than your life, even the letters making up their names were more powerful than your fists, could you ever win? Could you ever win when their names were so powerful they could not be pronounced but your life was so worthless they didn’t even care to learn yours? To learn the names of the ones than died because of them. You can’t say the name of you sister’s killer, but you’re still expected to burn an offering to them each night at dinner.

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onlyjaeyun · 3 months

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𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 – 𝟏𝟖

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲

⤥ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕.𝟗𝐤

⤥ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤥ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔

⤥ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝟑𝐱, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝟏) 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟!𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

⤥ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲'𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤.

"Sunghoon's gonna kill me", Jay sighs and looks at his reflection in the mirror, his newly dyed dark hair complimenting his sharp features and with the biggest smile on your lips you finish up the side of his taper fade.

"What is he going to do? Hate me for convincing both you and Jaeyun to dye your hair back to black when this is the colour that suits you the best?" You can't help but chuckle at the thought of your least favorite human's reaction to his best friends' new hair colours.

For some reason today feels a lot less mentally challenging than the past few days.

Maybe it's because you spent hours away from your phone and with your favorite person, baking and gossiping over a glass of wine followed by doing her nails and just reminiscing about your time together in Highschool. Tsuki's presence never fails to ease your heart and calm your nerves, no matter how stressed or anxious you are, she always manages to distract you by just being herself.

It's the feeling of home and comfort she's never failed to give you, which you find yourself longing for the most when things get a little bit more difficult than usual.

Tsuki has never judged you, nor has she ever made you feel bad or invalidated in your feelings. Your thoughts and emotions, worries and doubts mean something to her and as she makes you feel cherished and loved, adored and appreciated in ways no man has ever managed to do romantically, you know she'll always be there when your heart needs it the most.

The past eighteen hours were filled with silly jokes, memories, genuine laughter and giggles, the exchange of thoughts and worries as well as absolute silence every now and then.

And as Tsuki started telling you about the few dates she's been on with Heeseung, something you've been suspecting for a while now yet never felt the need to point out because you knew she'd confide in you the moment she feels ready, you couldn't help but feel guilty about keeping so much to yourself, yet the fear of disappointing one of the few people who's always believed in and supported you no matter what is too captivating to even consider. So, with a soft sigh you just listened to her little rambles and giggled along with her when she got a little too excited about her newly found crush and possible soon-to-be-boyfriend.

For a moment you actually found yourself contemplating whether or not you should tell her, only for the heaviness on your chest to make the decision for you.

And as you watch the way she's mindlessly curling her hair, the new make up style you had tried on her, enhancing her beautiful features in the most perfect way possible and you can't believe just how beautiful your best friend is. Fukotomi Tsuki is the type of woman whose beauty and grace is a reflection of her genuinely kind and gentle soul, something she's never failed to inspire you with.

"Hey, Babe I don't mean to rush you but I really need to take a shower because I feel overstimulated so..how long is this going to take?" Jongseong's calm voice pulls you back into reality and with a soft sigh you meet his gaze in the mirror.

"Sorry, I got distracted", you say and reach for the little comb on your make up desk to brush through the thick strands of your best friends frehly cut hair, "all done, big guy."

"Fucking awesome", Jongie mumbles with a huge smile on his face as he gets closer to the mirror and then jumps up on his feet.

The second the young man leaves your apartment, you can't help but throw yourself onto your bed, a row of loud sighs falling past your lips as you crave the taste and effects of alcohol in your system.

"Alright, what's going on?"

The sudden question surpises you and with arched brows you turn your head to look at your best friend, who's just finished her hair and has now turned to face you.

With a soft sigh, you avert your gaze from Tsuki to shut your conscience up, only for your heart to take over and make the decision you've been putting off for as long as possible.

"I fucked Sunghoon", you blurt out and don't even dare to look at her, knowing exactly which specific combination of elotions is grazing her beautiful face as your words make their way into her understanding.

"You're lying", Tsuki chuckles and takes a huge sip from her glads of wine, her fresh set of nails nervously scratching her neck, a habit she's always had and the reason why reading her like an open book has always been so easy for you.

With a sigh of frustration you swallow your tears of anger and self disappointment before finally sitting up and looking at her.

And just as expected you're met with a mixture of disbelief, shock, surprise and genuine confusion.

"You are lying", she giggles again, yet her smile has slowly faded, eyes wide and filled with denial.

"I wish I was", you whisper and tilt your head nack to stop the tears from pricking at the corners of your eyes, since you definitely don't need your mascara to smudge only ten minutes before the beginning of the actual party.

"When?" At this point Tsuki has finally reached a stage of acceptance as she gets up from the little chair, makes her way across the room and right next to you on the bed.

The initial shock and disbelief has now faded and got replaced by genuine concern, something which reminds you just how easily she reads you, too.

"Exactly a month ago, on the night of Seung's birthday", you sigh and feel the knot in your throat coming back at full force, your denial and anger about this particular night finally catching up on you.

The past few weeks you've spent simply trying to forget something has ever happened between you and Sunghoon and no matter how many nights of pleasure you've spent with Fuma or anxious phone calls with Shotaro, this weird feeling of discomfort and shame has never left you.

You have no idea what exactly it is about the fact that you've been intimate with the one man you've hated for as long as you could remember, yet regardless of the reason your body, mind and soul have yet to accept it.

Deep down, in the darkest bits of your heart, you know it's because he hurt you. You know it's because he crushed your soul after you've shown yourself in such a vulnerable state. Subconsciously you're aware that all those nights you've spent crying with a tight chest and heavy heart weren't because of your break up, but because of the things Sunghoon had said to you.

But...you just don't understand why and how his words and actions, his behavior and demeanor have had such an intense imapct on your emotional state. It's not like you care about him in any way, so why has your mind not stopped replaying his exacg words from that night.

The fact he's been quite opena nd honest about wanting you again has definitely not helped your crushed soul and the fear of allowing yourself to get another taste just to satisfy that deep, disgusting hunger in the deepest parts of your mind has consumed you.

After so many conversations about what had happened between the to of you, with the only two people who actually know about it, you've come to the conclusion that maybe you want him to touch you again, but you have yet to figure out why exactly.

You spent the next five minutes catching Tsuki up on what exactly happened, how everything went down and for the first time in weeks, you actually voice out the things Sunghoon had said to you.

Every ounce of enthusiasm and excitement has long disappeared from your best friend's face and instead she's now filled with anger and wrath, disappointment and frustration.

"I'm sorry for not telling you about this earlier", you sigh and start fumbling with the rings on your fingers, your late mother's wedding band firmly placed around one of the digits as it brings you the comfort you've always found in her blurry memory.

"Don't be, babe", Tsuki is quick to reassure you, her voice hentle and calm, the complete opposite to all the dark emotions gleaming in her pretty eyes, "I'm proud of you for talking about it and grateful that you trust me enough to confide in me. I wish we could just ditch the party and have a girls' night."

You nod and reach for her delicate hand, the feeling of her skin underneath your fingertips easing your anxious nerves and with a soft sigh you lift your head to look at her again.

"How about we get drunk now and postpone that girls' night to tomorrow, hm? I really don't want the boys to find out and we both know they'd never let me hear the end of it if I didn't show up."

"Yeah, Seung's been texting me for an hour to hurry up because guests have arrived already", Tsuki replies and gets up, but not walking away before wrapping her arms around your shoulders to pull you into a tight hug, "just please promise me to talk about this in greater detail once you feel ready. This really worries me, baby. I can tell how much it's been effecting you and I can't lie, I knew it wasn't because of Jaemin's stupid ass and this new information changes the whole story."

All you can do is nod yet again, too mentally and physically exhausted to talk as you find comfort in her embrace before the two of you gather your things and finally make your way down the hallway into an apartment you've been skillfully avoiding for the past three months since you've moved.

You've never had a problem with sharing the same close friend circle as Sunghoon, but every now and then you catch yourself wishing they would have just dropped him years ago, knowing every bit of pain and hurt you've been feeling until now could have been avoided if he had only left your life.

You try your best to forget about his existence the way you’ve been doing up until the night of Heesueng’s birthday and every single day afterwards.

It’s not as easy as your brain makes it sound, especially when he’s the first person to meet your gaze as soon as you step foot into his shared apartment with yourbest friend and birthday boy Sim Jaeyun, but for the sake of everyone’s joy and happiness, you decide to just avert your gaze and ignore the burning in the deepest bits of your stomach.

And as you pass him without even granting him another look, Sunghoon finds himself absolutely captivated by your sight. Your outfits have always complimented your beautiful body, but this one felt like an actual death sentence.

The urge to just pull you into his bedroom and finally have his way with you again has slowly become absolutely unbearable and for the first time in his life, his hatred for you is dethroned by something else.

Hunger.

He’s already accepted his weird, twisted fate when it comes to his newfound feelings for you, but his pride and ego have been suffering from this epiphany and after weeks of internal fighting, Sunghoon’s gotten too tired, too exhausted to deny anything anymore.

However, different than he could have ever expected, his desire for you, your body and your touch have also brought along something he hasn’t felt in years: jealousy.

The sight of your university’s golden boy calmly wrapping his arms around your body and whispering something into your ear, even eliciting a genuine chuckle from you leaves the most disgusting feeling on his tongue and the longer he stares at the two of you, the deeper his hatred for you begins to run.

Every time Sunghoon is convinced he can’t physically, mentally and emotionally dislike you even further, you do something with someone right in front of his eyes and his blood starts boiling in ways he’s only ever associated with you.

“Why the fuck are you frowning again?” Jongseong voice makes it through the loud music and the cloud in his brain, finally pulling his attention away from you and Fuma and right back to reality.

“Nothing”, Sunghoon grunts and downs the rest of his cocktail, loving the way the liquid leaves a burning sensation in his throat and finally replaces the weird taste of jealousy coating the muscle of his tongue.

“Why is he in a bad mood again?” Sunoo suddenly appears next to Jongseong, his brows furrowed in confusion as a rosy tint covers the apple of his cheeks, indicating the amount of alcohol in his system.

Sunghonn can’t help but let out a chuckle at the sight of his friends and with a soft sigh, he just shrugs and throws his cup onto the table, knowing there’s really no point in letting these weird emotions get to him, no matter how good you look.

The following three hours are filled with loud music, laughter and a couple of drinking games, which basically ended up into a competition between the hockey and basketball team.

For some reason, you don’t feel agitated or annoyed, but are actually enjoying yourself, despite the fact that you’ve been in such close proximity with Park Sunghoon for so long.

As yourboys have seemed to make it their mission to keep you distracted and very well entertained, you can’t find much time to talk to Fuma or basically anyone else besides your friends, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

It’s not like he’s your boyfriend and even if the two of you get along well and you’d actually consider him your friend, you’re not really into smalltalk and are quite keen on keeping whatever’s going on between the two of you as lowkey as possible, simply because you don’t want anyone to stick their nose into your business.

The last thing you need is to deal with stupid rumors and random people slutshaming you for being sexually active.

To your luck, Fuma’s been just as casual about the whole situation, something you’re more than just grateful for because no matter how understanding and chill your friends and brothers might be, you know exactly how quickly things can get awkward and after so much fun you’d rather not be the one to sour the mood.

As the night goes on, you notice the way Sunghoon slowly becomes less careful and secretive about his attention, which has remained solely on you for the past three hours. You’re physically unable to deny just how much it pushes your ego, yet every time you catch his gaze roaming your body and basically devouring you alive, you can’t help but hate yourself a little more for enjoying it.

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s turned down every single girl who’s come up to him, shooting him soft glances and the sweetest smiles as Sunghoon’s eyes subconsciously found your each and every single time you came into his field of vision.

Neither one of you has said a single thing and whenever this particular realisation hits you, you remember the things he had whispered into your ear after making you fall apart on his tongue.

“If you told me it took nothing but a good tongue-fuck to keep that big mouth of yours shut I would have done this years ago.”

You hate your brain for replaying those exact words so many times, yet at this point you’re more than just ready to blame it on the alcohol in your blood, casually ignoring the fact that you’re barely tipsy, since you haven’t had the time to drink as much as your tolerance allowed you to.

However, the entirety of your friendgroup has made sure to take over the drinking part for you, as both sets of triplets have definitely gone way over their actual limits, but since there’s no way you could ever be the mean big sister at times like these, you have decided to just sit back and watch the most hilarious scenes unfold right in front of you.

By the time Sunoo had Jongseong have already passed out in each other’s arms, most of the guests have already left, leaving it to be Jaeyun’s closest people only and even though you would have loved to take Fuma up on his offer for a quick round at your place, you’re glad you’ve decided to say your farewell and focus on a good time with your favorite people.

“Are you sure, pretty girl?”, the tall captain smiles and wraps his big hand around your throat, his eyes quickly roaming your surroundings to make sure no one catches a glimpse of his lips finding yours and with a soft hum, you nod yet again.

“Can’t lie”, Fuma sighs and pulls you closer against his strong chest, “I would have loved to fuck you into oblivion tonight because fuck, do you look good.”

It doesn’t take much more than his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist for all the memories of a very specific person to find their way back into your head.

You hate how you have to push yourself to look into Fuma’s face at all times, because whenever your eyes fall shut, you catch yourself imaging the one person you promised yourself to never think of again and despite the annoyance and frustration, a wave of guilt usually follows those thoughts and before you can actually enjoy yourself, you’re back to zero.

“Hm, how about this”, you say and start caressing his exposed arms, knowing one of your boys could come around the corner at any given times, yet not sober enough to actually care for once, “I tug all these big guys into bed and make sure they’re taken care of safe and then head over to your place?”

Fuma’s plump lips stretch into a satisfied smile before he lands a gentle spank on the back of your naked thigh, “sounds perfect, angel girl. I’ll give you a call once I’m home and if you’re still up for it, I’ll order you an uber.”

After another rather sloppy kiss, you close the door and let out a soft sigh as the tension finally leaves your body and you feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

You’ve never been with someone as attentive and caring as Fuma, despite the fact your relationship is solely physical, he’s made sure to always make you feel desired and taken care of, which is exactly why the guilt feels suffocating whenever you’re around him for too long.

It’s not like you want to think about Sunghoon as much as you do, especially not when you’re being intimate with someone so lovely and kind like Fuma, but your body has made it quite clear to you and no matter how hard you try to deny it, deep down you know there’s only one guy you think about when you’re pushing yourself over the edge.

And as you pass the living room to go to the bathroom in hopes of getting rid of some of the tension in your limbs, you’re instead met with a strong chest and before your brain can even process what’s going on, the familiar scent of Sunghoon’s cologne has long made his presence known.

With your brows furrowed in annoyance, you don’t even bother to lift your head and look up at him, definitely not in the mood to let him ruin the rest of your night when the party went as smoothly as it did, despite his presence.

However, Sunghoon has absolutely no intention of letting you go anywhere anytime soon.

He has absolutely no fucking clue, why he decided to cut your way off or why he forced himself to watch that fucking bastard of a captain touch and kiss what he’s been craving for so long, but after being in denial for as long as he has, Hoon’s come to the conclusion that you’ve driven him into complete insanity.

There’s no logical explanation for his behavior, not even for his train of thoughts or any of the decisions he’s made these past four weeks, so why would there be a point in denying anything anymore?

He wants whatever you’re willing to give him, no matter how desperate he looks in your eyes. Sunghoon doesn’t give a fuck about what you think or feel, so why would he care about your opinion on him? So, what if you think he’s pathetic for wanting to sleep with you again? He’s never been ashamed for wanting what and who he wants and he won’t start just because it’s you, of all people, whom he wants.

“What the fuck do you want?” Just as usual you’re not hesitant to spit your venom, but after so many years, Sunghoon has become immune. Nothing you say fazes him, no matter how hard you try and how badly you want to hurt him, he took that ability away from you the day you had made your decision to betray and humiliate him. He’d never give you the chance to break his soul again, not when you’re the reason he has never allowed anyone close to his heat again.

“It’s so amusing to me how much you’re trying to make things work with that captain”, Sunghoon says and runs a hand through his light hair, his dark eyes never once shifting away from your face, “especially when we both know he won’t ever give you exactly what you need.”

“Oh, and you will? Stop wasting my fucking time, you cunt”, you scoff and roll your eyes, a sight Sunghoon’s been daydreaming about for way too long and with all of your friends completely passed out, he’s determined to grab the chance by its tail and make the best of it.

Neither one of you acknowledges it, not caring enough to give it any thought or weight, yet regardless of the deep hatred you feel, you do know each other good enough and that’s why Sunghoon is more than just sure how aware you are of the realness behind his words.

“Alright”, he suddenly says, thick brows furrowed as he wraps his big hand around your arm and pushes you through the doorstep and right into the center of his own room, leaving you completely shocked, yet not an ounce of fear or panic has entered your body.

Maybe it’s because subconsciously you know he’d never physically hurt you. Not because he somehow cares about you, but because Park Sunghoon would never get physical with someone who doesn’t have the power to fight back.

“You have no reason to lie to me, so be fucking honest”, he presses through gritted teeth, the sight of his anger stricken features sending jolts of arousal through body in just the way you’ve been craving it.

“I don’t owe you shit”, you throw right into his face, ready to storm out again just because you’re not as sure and confident about your own residence anymore as you were just a few minutes ago, “you’re batshit crazy, if you really think I’m gonna let you fuck me again.”

Sunghoon can’t help but smile sheepishly in response to your meek attempt to defeat your own desires. Everything about your behavior and body language gives away just how much you want him, it doesn’t matter if your words claim the opposite.

The way your chest is rapidly rising and falling, your balled fists, the fact you’ve been pressing your thighs together ever since you bumped into his chest and most importantly: your eyes.

A few weeks ago, Hoon would have knocked himself out for ever thinking thoughts like these, but since he’s gotten his first taste of you, he’s realised just how expressive your eyes are. However, he intentionally chooses to ignore the fact this particular realisation had him right in the guts when he watched the pain fill your eyes.

He knows to other people you have a so called “resting bitch face” but everyone who’s ever spend more than a day around you knows just how much of the talking your eyes do for you.

And just as usual, Sunghoon doesn’t need you to say anything because the longing and desire gleaming in the gentle colour surrounding your eyes is what gives him the answers he’s been waiting for all this time.

“Just this once”, Sunghoon sighs and runs both of his hands through his hair, pulling at the roots as he feels the frustration bubbling up in his throat in response to your stubbornness.

“Be fucking honest with me just this once”, you didn’t even realise just how close he’s gotten to you, his body mere inches away from you and before you can actually process it, your back hits the wall, leaving you no choice but to look at him, “has he made you cum? I need to know this, Y/N.”

The sound of your name falling from his lips feels foreign and unfamiliar. You can’t actually remember the last time you had heard him say it, even when talking to mutual friends or coworkers had he refused to take it into his mouth.

And even if you can’t make sense of it, you know that’s the exact reason for your body’s response to his question in form of a simple shake of your head.

“I fucking knew it”, he hisses and plants his hands on both sides of your face as he throws his head back with a loud groan, “I fucking knew I wasn’t the only one going through this fucking hell.”

The cloud of arousal fogging up the rational parts of your brain as well as the sweet scent of his cologne make it quite difficult for you to focus, yet the second you manage to process what he had said, your lips part in shock.

“What – does that mean?”

Sunghoon pulls away from you with a loud scoff and before he gets the chance to turn away, you reach for his face and force him to look into your eyes.

There’s no way you’re going to give him the privilege of looking away again, not when you had promised yourself to never, ever get to this point again. This is the least you owe yourself. Not him or anyone else, but your crushed soul.

“What the fuck does that mean, Sunghoon?”, this time you’re the one to use his name, something you’ve always hated doing, yet subconsciously hoping it’ll have the same effect on him as it had on you.

“Do you really think I want to want you this badly? Do you really fucking think I’m being lie this because I want a quick fuck?”, his voice is cold and distant, something you’re used to and weirdly makes you feel at ease as the arousal has slowly taken over the last bits of your body.

“No matter what I watched, no matter who I fucked or how hard I’ve tried to forget about how good ou felt, I just couldn’t. Not if I wasn’t thinking about you.”

His confession leaves you absolutely speechless.

Despite the wide range in your vocabulary of two languages, you find yourself struggling to come with one to use in response to what he had just admitted and for the first time in exactly a month you don’t actually feel bad for wanting him the way you do.

“Every time the boys talked about you and that fucking captain I almost lost my mind because how the fuck did you just go and let some random wannabe touch you, when I’m right fucking here”, Sunghoon grunts and pushes his body back against yours, the feeling of your soft tits against his strong chest overwhelmingly arousing to the point of it being genuinely embarrassing, but again – he’s lost his mind and he knows it.

“Do you need me to remind you which one of us wanted to act like this never happened, you fucking coward?”, you spit back once the anger mixes into your arousal,your grip around his face tightening, only for Sunghoon to groan in response to the physical pain of your nails digging into his soft skin.

“I fucking know”, he sighs and subconsciously starts humping your bare thigh, the feeling of his hard cock against your skin sending shivers down your spine in the best way possible.

“How the fuck was I supposed to know or even imagine that you, of all people on this god damn earth, would do this to my body?”

“S-Sunghoon”, you whisper as he buries his face in your neck, his big hands finding home on the back of your thighs before he pulls your legs apart to give himself access to your clothed cunt.

You coudn’t have held back the guttural moan following the feeling of his bulge pressing against your sensitive clit even if you had tried to, the arousal too consuming to suppress.

It doesn’t take much for Sunghoon to lose himself in the sweet feeling of your warm pussy firmly pressed against his clothed cock, he’s been thinking and daydreaming about you for too long and although he had accepted his current mental state, he has now decided to blame it on the little bit of alcohol rushing through his veins alongside the dizzying arousal.

“Come on, snowflake”, he grunts and pulls the skins of your neck in between his lips, making sure to leave a huge mark as thoughts of that fucker touching what so obviously was destined for him and him only, “stop denying it. You want me as much as I want you.”

Waves of pleasure and anger, frustration and despair wash over you in a way you’ve never experienced before, but just as usual there’s one particular feeling taking over when it comes to Park Sunghoon.

“I fucking hate you”, you spit and push your hand into his hair, forcefully pulling his face away from your neck, only to be met with the sight of Sunghoon’s hooded, hunger filled gaze.

“Don’t worry”, he suddenly grunts and moves his hand in between your bodies to fumble with the buckle of his belt, “I’m not doing this because I’m so fucking fond of you all of a sudden but fuck, I need to fuck you.”

You let out a soft whimper when his knuckles hit your sensitive clit and with a frustrated sigh you throw your head back because it’s in this particular moment you realise you’re going to let him fuck you again – because you genuinely want him to.

“There we go”, Sunghoon chuckles and wraps his big, ring clad hand around your throat to tilt your head forward and rub his thumb over your bottom lip, “there’s no point in fighting what your body needs, Baby. This isn’t as deep as we’re making it to be. I want to fuck you and you want to fuck me, that’s it. There’s nothing else to this, right, snowflake?”

The use of that stupid nickname sends jolts of anger right in between your legs and without giving it another thought, you part your lips and bite down on the tip of his thumb, only for Sunghoon to pull away with a loud hiss – and a chuckle.

“Bark and bite? What’s wrong, snowflake? Still so mad about that stupid nickname? Silly, silly little ice queen”, he whispers right against your lips, the feeling of his hot breath hitting your heated skin in combination with his hand around your throat leaves you lighthearted, you can’t even get yourself to respond.

“Look at you”, he muses and reaches for the back of your little top, quickly pulling the zipper down and pushing it down to expose your chest to his hungry eyes, “f-fuck, they’re pierced?”

“Who’s the silly one now, you fucking bastard”, you spit and pull your bottom lip between your teeth to hold back your moans as the feeling of his wet tongue circling your sensitive nipple pushes you even deeper into the haze of your pleasure.

At this point you’ve made a mess of your precious lace panties, the ones you had put on with Fuma on your mind, yet can’t actually get yourself to care.

“Mhm”, Sughoon hums and wraps his plump lips around the little nub, his tongue flicking over the tip and reminding you of how that particular motion had managed to make you cum all over his face in actual record time, something you’d never actually mention around him.

“So responsive”, he chuckles, “you’re about to choke on that little ‘I hate you’, snowflake. How does it feel?”

“Shut the fuck up”, you press through gritted teeth, only for your body to betray you as your fingers wrap themselves around his wrist to push his hand down your chest in hopes of him getting what you’re asking for.

“Keep going”, Sunghoon replies casually and pulls away to get rid of the stupid piece of fabric you really dared to call an outfit, leaving you in nothing but your drenched panties.

Usually you’d feel too exposed, too out in the open, insecure and even self conscious, but as you watch the way Sunghoon shamelessly devours you with his eyes only, you can’t stop your ego from actually reaching the moon.

“I like hearing how much you hate me because this sweet little pussy surely doesn’t feel the same”, he whispers into your ear as he pushes his hand into your panties, not even hesitating to push one of his long fingers into your needy cunt.

“Fuck, just as tight and warm as I remember”, his voice suddenly breaks at the of his sentence when you clench around the single digit, making the usually so cocky coach choke on his words.

“Yeah, don’t smile like that, snowflake, you’ve got me good. I won’t deny it anymore”, Sunghoon sounds just as arrogant as usual, but the way he looks at you with so much desire and want shimmering in the usually so cold brown of his eyes doesn’t match the tone of his voice.

All of a sudden you realise just how long you’ve been looking at him and before anything but pleasure can take over your foggy brain, you decide to reach in between your bodies and stroke his cock through the thin layer of his boxer briefs.

“Oh, fuck”, Sunghoon suddenly moans and quickly buries his face in your chest, knowing he won’t be bale to hold himself back any longer, but too proud to show even more of his hunger for you and your touch.

He wants you to know how much he craves your body because it’s the only way for him to get what he wants, but his pride would never allow him to let you see too much.

“Do you have condoms? Please, tell me you do”, you swallow your moans and try to focus on the way he’s gently humping his finger into your tight hole, the need to finally feel full and actually cum without having to imagine anything overwhelming your senses.

“I wanna eat your pussy first”, Sunghoon blurts out and looks at you with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, the sight so delicious, you hate him for it.

“Yeah?” You reply and push your lips into a faux pout, nodding along when he confirms your question, only for you to let out a high pitched chuckle.

“You’re so desperate, pretty face, what happened to that cocky attitude? Is that all it takes? Good pussy shuts you the fuck up, is that the truth?”

It takes Sunghoon a whole minute to realise that you’re mocking him and as soon as he does, he snaps back to reality and rolls his eyes, still not caring enough.

“Answer me”, you demand and tighten your grip around his cock,your other hand pulling his out of your panties, “cat got your tongue, pretty face? What’s wrong?”

Your new nickname for him sends his brain into overdrive, and as if the sound of your sweet voice drenched in mockery wasn’t enough, you force Sunghoon to look right into your eyes.

“Yes, fuck”, he grunts and shamelessly thrusts his cock into your fist, his eyes rolling into the back of his head before he quickly pushes his fingers into his mouth, lapping up every drop of your sweet cunt like a starved man.

“There we go”, you imitate his reaction with a devilish grin on your face, “but not tonight, pretty face. I need you to be good and fuck me before someone notices that we’ve been gone.”

“Fucking b–”, however, you’re quick to cut him off, knowing you won’t let him disrespect you, no matter how badly you want him.

“Nuh uh”, you say and grab his face again, “stop fucking with my patience and do what you’ve been begging for.”

Sunghoon is too close to even think about talking back and he hates you, the universe, fate and whatever is responsible for his body’s reactions to your touch for putting him into this situation.

“Fine. Turn around.”

As you start shaking your head in response to his demand, Sunghoon can’t help but furrow his brows in confusion.

“Man the fuck up and look at me when you fuck me”, you hiss and push your panties down your thighs, a pain you’ve found comfort in suddenly filling your chest, pulling you away from the pleasure you’ve been deprived from for way too long.

Why does your brain have to work this way? Why can’t you just enjoy the pleasure? Why does this always have to be some kind of mental and emotional torture?

“Won’t have to tell me twice, snowflake”, Sunghoon simply replies and pull away from your body before he gets rid of his dark jeans and boxer briefs, finally revealing the cock you’ve been daydreaming in denial for so long, “get on the bed, spread those legs for me. I’m gonna fuck that attitude out of your little pussy.”

His words, yet again, leave you completely stunned but your body reacts way quicker than your mind as you find yourself approaching his bed and doing as you’re told without a verbal response.

For some reason the following few minutes are filled with nothing, not a single word, but heavy breathing and the suffocating tension of your pleasure and arousal lingering in the air.

You attentively watch the way Sunghoon rips open the condom wrapper before he gives himself a few good strokes and then rolls it over his annoyingly pretty cock.

Not nice in your life have you used the word ‘pretty’ to describe male genitalia but there’s no point in denying just how well it fits when it comes to Park Sunghoon.

It’s thick and long, slightly curved at the tip, veiny just like his arms and just a few shades darker than the rest of his body, the tip thick and dripping in precum. There’s absolutely no point in him having such a beautiful face and cock, absolutely none.

“I’ll send you a picture when you’re home, that’ll last longer”, Sunghoon deadpans and if it wasn’t or the actual pain you’re currently in from how much your cunt’s been clenching around nothing, you would have given him a piece of your mind.

But Sunghoon doesn’t seem to care about your lack of a sassy response as he pushes yur legs further apart and reveals your dripping cunt to his needy eyes. He wants to curse you out for taking away getting another taste but he knows this won’t be the last time, so without giving himself enough time to get more frustrated, he simply starts rubbing the length of his wrapped cock over your slick folds.

“Oh, fuck”, a row of deep moans falls past his lips and before he can realise what his body is doing he catches himself burying his face in your neck for the nth time already, “I’m going to cover your mouth, so tap my arm if you can’t breathe. We don’t want anyone to hear how good I’m fucking this sweet pussy, right, snowflake?”

“Cocky bastard”, is the only thing you say as you nod and quickly choke on one of your high pitched moans when Sunghoon suddenly pushes the tip of his cock into your tight cunt.

“Oh, my fucking God”, you breathe, your nails digging into his broad back as your eyes roll into the back of your head, “more, please. I need more.”

“Give me a fucking minute”, Sunghoon groans, his eyes firmly shut in hopes of stopping himself from cumming too fast because of how good you look with only his tip inside of you, “f-fuck, snowflake…”

For the first time in what feels like ever, the nickname isn’t drenched in derogatory or mockery, it’s nothing but raw pleasure and you can’t deny how good it actually sounds, especially coming from Sunghoon whose voice has dropped a whole octave within just a few seconds.

You find mental satisfaction in the fact that this is effecting him just as much as you.

“Tell me if it’s too much”, he whispers against your lips, his nose nudging yours and for a moment you actually reciprocate his motion, only to turn your head to the side once you realise.

To your luck, Sunghoon doesn’t give it too much thought and once you node, he slowly starts pushing the entirety of his length into your sensitive cunt. The stretch leaves you lightheaded, your moans and whimpers muffled by his hand, leaving his own noises to be the only thing to fill the silence of his room.

It doesn’t take much for him to bottom out, the wetness of your cunt enough lubrication to have you focus on the sweet feeling of being filled just how you’ve been craving it.

Sunghoon gives you a few moments to adjust to his impressive size, his head thrown back as he avoids your gaze because he knows he’s going to cum on the spot if he looks into your stupidly expressive eyes for too long.

To say that your former ice skating partner knows exactly how to use his cock would be an understatement. Park Sunghoon definitely has a reason to be as confident about his skills as he is because that God damn fucker really knows how to fuck.

His thrusts are deep and firm, not too fast or too hard for it to hurt, yet still precise enough to hit just the right spots and with every single movement of his hips, you feel the tip of his cock graze the entrance to your womb in a way you’ve only ever experienced with him.

Moans, profanities, high pitched whimpers, the sound of skin meeting skin and the wetness of your cunt meet in the heavy air of the room, each noise pushing the both of you deeper into a sweet cloud of pleasure and you can’t believe how easy it is for your body to respond to his touches.

“F-fuck”, he suddenly grunts and pushes his hand in between your bodies his thumb easily finding your clit and applying just the right amount of pleasure, “I can feel how close you are. Come on now, Baby, show me how much you hate me. Cum all over my cock like the needy little slut you are.”

Maybe it’s the tiniest bits of gentleness wavering in his usually so cold voice, yet you feel yourself getting closer with each and every word falling past his bit swollen lips.

“I can’t hold back any longer, snowflake”, Sunghoon warns and picks up the pace of his thrusts as well as his thumb on your clit, drawing firm circles into the hardened nub and pushing you closer and closer to your sweet relief.

And as the first wave of your orgasm comes crashing down on you, you let out row of loud moans of his name, only for Sunghoon to suddenly pull his hand away and push his lips against yours, passionately swallowing every single one of your noises.

The moment his tongue grazes over yours, the coil in your lower stomach finally snaps, setting your whole body on fire as you start drowning in the sweet taste of your enemy and the feeling of actual relief.

It doesn’t take Sunghoon much to follow you, his deep grunts sending vibrations right down your throat as he cums inside the condom in three thick spurts.

Just like last time there’s nothing but heavy breathing filling the silence but unlike then, you actually don’t feel disgusting or used.

Neither one of you even gets the chance to overthink the kiss or anything you’ve just said as a sudden noise from the other side of the door leaves you both in shock.

“Fuck”, you whisper and take a deep breath, only for Sunghoon to stop you.

“It’s okay”, he says way too calm and somehow sounding confused, “I’ll take care of them. Let me get you a towel and you can use my bathroom if you need to. DOes anything hurt?”

For the nth time tonight, you’re shocked by his words.

You never expected him to provide you with any sort of empathy or care, not after he had managed to shatter your soul with his coldness the last time.

“Thanks”, you whisper and hate how yet again, tears start pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"Take your time. They’re all wasted, even Tsuki. I’ll make sure to tug the triplets to bed and send both Jay and Seung home. Should I let Tsuki sleep over?”

Sunghoon doesn’t look at you as he pulls his now soft cock out of your sensitive cunt, the sight so pretty, he can’t help but wish to imprint it into his memories forever.

What the fuck is he thinking?

Yeah, he’s definitely lost his mind.

“I’ll take care of her, thanks”, you reply calmly and sit up, only to watch Sunghoon walk over to the other side of his room and carefully collect your clothes from the floor.

“Don’t read anything into this but you’re heading home anyway and nobody gives a fuck so just – wear one of my shirts”, he says and pulls one of his black shirts out of a random drawer, carefully handing it all to you before he puts on a pair of sweats, yet doesn’t bother with a shirt himself.

And as you watch Sunghoon run a hand through his hair and wipe away the remains of your lipstick on his lips, you can’t help but wonder if what you’ve just done really is as bad as your brain makes it to be or if maybe this might become way more beneficial to you than you could have ever expected.

Either way, you know this wasn’t the last time and no matter how badly you want to hate the actual act of it, you simply can’t.

And that’s okay.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: and there she is! thank you guys so so so much for all tve love, patience and support. i truly appreciate you all and genuinely hope you enjoyed this one. it’s not as kinky as the first time but hey they kissed!!! and hoonie was a decent human for once lets goo!! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated babies!)

TAGLIST: @soonigiri @en-happiness @lhsvibez @dammit-jjk @heerinnie @primroselover @jungwon-xo @szkstay @lostwonderwall @hoonieluv @certifiedmoa @doodlelibrary @ikeuizm @kpoprhia @sleeping-demons @jongszn @imtoanonymousforyou @lalalovejay @ineedsomezzz @xrr-s4sha @ariadores @viagumi @electrobutterfly @mimikittysblog @blurryriki @heelcvr @wonkifangirl @joonzseoulmate @kwiwin @hoondiors @seuomo @zerasari @love-you-twice @aloverga @marz-mars @velvtcherie @niniissus @abrazosolorcereza @ddazed-lhs @acphengene @skz-streamer @kshoshi @tya0 @yizhoutv @jebetwo @myheelody @seokgyuu @blockbusterhee @l0vee-l3tters @luvkpopp

#enhypen social media au #enhypen smau #enhypen sm au #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen writers #park sunghoon x female reader #park sunghoon smau #park sunghoon social media au #park sunghoon angst #park sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon x reader

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yandere-writer-momo · 3 months

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Yandere Stories:

The Tooth Fairy (prequel)

Yandere Serial Killer x GN Reader

A bracelet made of pearly, white incisors was placed under your pillow. Silver wire intricately held each tooth in place to form a grotesque version of jewelry. A mockery of the silver bracelet that had recently gone missing under your nose.

A bit of dried blood on the crown of the two teeth which brought a shiver down your spine. Who on earth would bring you such macabre tokens of affection?

You sighed and analyzed the bracelet. This was the fifth piece of handmade jewelry, if you could call it that, in the last few months.

You placed it with the other trinkets on your dresser. A pair of earrings made of human canines and a necklace made with various premolars and molars. And now you had a matching bracelet for your grotesque jewelry from your secret admirer.

You glanced at your window that had the lock obviously tampered with. Whoever they were, they always managed to break in without your knowledge. Were you still waking up and that was why you were so nonchalant about it? Or was it your fascination with serial killers that made you less inclined to notify the police of your… growing collection.

You rubbed your temple as you felt an impending headache grasp you in its hold. No… you couldn’t reject them. Gods only knew what they’d do if you reject them. Kill you? Pull your teeth out one by one? Torture you? You didn’t want to find out, so you became an unwilling accomplice to this matters individuals scheme. Whatever that may be.

You began to get ready for work at the dentist office but not before you checked your reflection.

Your fingers poked at the corners of your mouth to turn your lips into a smile. Your teeth now on display in this fake display of happiness, the perfect costumer service face.

“Smile…” Because you never know who was watching you.

You sat at your desk with your signature customer service smile and sugar sweet voice. A smile that never quite reached your eyes, but it got the point across to the various customers that came in for their dental appointments.

Another day in your other wise boring life save for the obtuse way you handled your stalker. Perhaps you should buy a gun? You’ve never fired a firearm before so you’d need training…

“Good morning!” You nearly jumped out of your skin when the dentist, Dorian Zimmerman, placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Jesus, Dorian! You scared me.” You clutched your chest as your heart nearly escaped from your chest. An amused smile on his face as he eyed you up and down.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so lost in thought.” Dorian shrugged while he scanned the list for every patient. “Will there ever be a day I see you on this list?”

You shook your head. “No, I still go to my family dentist.”

Dorian sighed, “a shame. I’d love to look at your pretty teeth.”

Dorian sauntered off, but not before he cast you one last look. “Can you stay over a bit today? I have something for you.”

“Okay.” You agreed, there was nothing weird about the dentist asking you to stay over, right?

Dorian expression lit up like the sun. “Great. I’ll see you then.”

He then ducked around the bend to get back to his customers. You then diligently went back to your front desk duties.

“He has such pretty teeth.” You whispered to yourself before you noticed a man in all black in front of your desk. “Oh hello, do you have an appointment?”

The tanned man clicked his tongue, his gray eyes glanced you up and down. “Yes. My name is Zahn. Zahn Pain.”

Oh, it seemed you had an edge lord on your hands. But perhaps you were making assumptions based on his gothic appearance and prominent eye bags. His choice of jewelry was rather interesting as well… various animal teeth and crystals were parts of his necklaces, rings, and even earrings.

“Ah yes, your appointment is in about fifteen minutes-“ you were shocked when he placed his face closer to the glass, his eyes locked you in place like a predator staring down his prey.

“Do you like the dentist’s teeth?” Zahn muttered, his hands shook a bit while his face remained unreadable and stoic.

“Oh? Doctor Zimmerman has to have nice teeth to show his clients.” You nervously laugh which made Zahn back down. Why was he so strange?

Zahn hummed and shoved his hands in his leather jacket’s pockets. “I think your teeth are prettier since they’re not veneers. Have more personality.”

You thought for a moment. You hadn’t realized Dorian had veneers… which would explain their uncanny valley perfection. Zahn was surprising observant.

The gothic boy took a seat far away from the other patients in the very back of the lobby that had the perfect view of your desk. His gray eyes bore holes in your head while you continued to work.

You just couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that pooled in your stomach…

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jellys-compendium · 3 months

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JJK Mafia AU

MafiaBoss!Nanami Kento Headcanons

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Pairing: Nanami Kento x gn!reader Cw: smut, mentions of violence and illegal activities Word Count: ~700 A/n: I am so weak. One little thought about Mafia!Boss Nanami and my little brain went boom. I hope this brainrot sticks because I'd love to write a multichapter fic with this premise!

mafiaboss!nanami rules from his position at the top of his criminal syndicate with an iron fist. Nanami is ruthless when it comes to ensuring that each gang member respect the chain of command and obey his rules. If you mess up, he doesn't give you second chances.

mafiaboss!nanami who oozes wealth. The luxury cars he drives, the expensive suits he wears--that watch that costs more than what you make in a year circling his thick wrist. All of these things not only speak to Nanami's expensive tastes, but also to the raw power and unadulterated authority he holds at his fingertips.

mafiaboss!nanami who has earned his wealth and status through his cunning and discipline. He has made his way to the top of the food chain through his own merit alone. Nanami has a deep respect for others who do the same.

mafiaboss!nanami who has the entire city eating out of the palm of his hand. Neither the politicians nor police force make a move without his express approval.

mafiaboss!nanami is dangerous when he is crossed. Nanami finds no pleasure in killing, but he will carry out the proper sentence towards those who have betrayed him. Especially towards any poor idiot who has taken something that belongs to him.

mafiaboss!nanami who could have his pick of any woman or man he so desires. Models, celebrities, or whatever multi-million heir/heiress that catches his eye. However, Nanami had grown tired of toying with these spoiled and out of touch airheads long ago. Now, Nanami much prefers to spend his time entertaining himself with someone who has a head on their shoulders. Someone like you.

mafiaboss!nanami who wants you the moment he first lays eyes on you. But he is not interested in using force, or his power and influence to win your heart. Instead, Nanami prefers to watch you from afar, relishing in your fire as you try to make your way on your own. And yet, whenever you eventually--inevitably--storm your way into his office with a frustrated scowl and sheepishly ask for his help, the euphoria that blooms in Nanami's chest is as powerful as the drugs he smuggles.

mafiaboss!nanami who simultaneously teases you and lays claim to you through his purposeful and scorching touches. His large hand on the small of your back as he guides you to his car, his fingers tracing the back of your neck as he fastens the necklace he had gifted you, the way his lips barely brush against yours as he leans down to sternly scold you for putting yourself in danger...

mafiaboss!nanami who kisses you with a knee-weakening and breathless passion. He ravishes your perfect mouth so well and so thoroughly, that you know deep down in your bones that you'll never be satisfied with kissing anyone else.

mafiaboss!nanami who undresses you with awe and hungry reverence. Nanami can't keep his mouth off of you. The deep, rumbling groans that escape him as he diligently tastes every delectable inch of your body makes your heart hammer in your chest. Nanami leaves no place unworshipped.

mafiaboss!nanami who staves off the full force of his desire for you for as long as he can. But those sweet little cries you make, coupled with your lewd kisses and the feeling of your fingers digging into the muscles of his back are his downfall. Partially clothed, Nanami pins you to his desk and fucks you into it raw.

mafiaboss!nanami who isn't satisfied with just one round. After he's fucked you on the desk he moves you towards the window, propping your hips up before pressing your palms against the glass. He leans down behind you and whispers seductively into your ear that he wants you to watch your reflection in the glass. Nanami wants you to witness how beautiful your expression becomes when he makes you mewl and whimper and cream on his cock.

mafiaboss!nanami who offers to provide for you and protect you when morning comes--and smiles when you decline. Nanami's gaze is intense, laced with both admiration and possessiveness as he watches you slip back on that sexy little number you wore last night.

He can't wait to taste you again.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #jjk au #jellywrites

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gorgeys · 5 months

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FOR YOU ★ katniss everdeen

katniss everdeen x fem!reader

you see katniss for the first time after she wins the 74th annual hunger games

warnings: just some cheesy fluff bc i watched the hunger games for the first time

word count: 1145

note: this takes place after the first movie bc i’ve only watched that one and the ballad of songbirds and snakes 🫣

also this is kinda based on that one forrest gump scene where he’s at the vietnam war protest and jenny starts running to him through the reflecting pool to get to him 😭😭

hope you enjoy!!

the second she steps off the train, she’s already surrounded by the crowd. some people are chanting her name, others are offering her the three-finger salute, and some are even crying. she feels peeta squeeze her shoulder as he steps off behind her, and she can sense the smile on his face.

but she can barely feel his fingers on her skin or hear district 12 celebrating around her. she’s so focused, her eyes frantically scanning the crowd. there were so many people there to congratulate and thank her yet she only wanted to see one person.

it takes a few seconds before she hears a faint shout of her name.

“katniss!” the voice calls out. “katniss!”

her ears instantly perk up and she instinctively moves toward the source of the sound.

“katniss!”

it’s clearer now and she’s sure she knows who it belongs to. she can see people getting shoved in the back of the crowd as someone makes their way to the front. she doesn’t even need to see who it is before tears rim her eyes.

she involuntarily releases a strained noise of sheer desperation before she speeds up, the crowd kindly parting for her. the same can’t be said for you as you use every bit of your strength to push past citizens, some of them leaving you irritated glances.

luckily you make quick work and suddenly your unkempt hair catches katniss’ eye. she notices your rough, seasoned hands fighting those around you to get to her and now she’s nearly running toward you.

she screams your name, letting you know that she’s seen you and reminding you of how intensely she’s missed you. her voice is raw and distraught. she reminds you of how painful it is for her to be without you.

only when you’ve made it all the way to the front do you stop and does katniss get a clear look at you. you stumble out of the crowd, nearly falling, but you catch yourself. bystanders stare, questioning the importance of your presence, but all you do is look up and meet katniss’ eyes.

she stops fifteen steps ahead of you. only then does she remember why she had fought so hard to stay alive; why she had killed; why she had refused to give up even when the odds were against her. because, when she looked into your eyes—your perfect, beautiful, joyful eyes that reflected all of her own emotions—she remembered that it was all for you.

she refused to let her life end in that artificial forest because her life hadn’t truly begun until she was able to be with you. you were her reason, the single thing that kept her going, that motivated her, that she thought about on every dark, cold, soulless night.

she dreamed endlessly about returning to district 12 just to be wrapped in your warm embrace, to feel your chaste kiss on her cheek, and to start a new life with you. in fact, she dreamed about this very moment that she was living in. she dreamed about everything from how you would look to the way you would look at her. she dreamed about how it would feel and what she would do, but once she was in the moment, everything was more powerful than she could have ever imagined. everything was far more perfect than in her dreams.

she watched your own tears swell as your eyes settled upon her. your hands came to your face, covering your mouth as you fought your natural crying face into a smile.

seeing you cry always made her so weak and she felt her tears start flowing down her cheeks. she felt her ugly cry begin but she couldn’t help it. it felt so good to see you that it was almost painful. you had woven your way into her heart and now the two of you were one.

a tiny part of her brain was scared of what you might think of her. would you be afraid of her after seeing her kill so ruthlessly? would you lose your feelings after watching her at her lowest moment? or worst of all, would you be angry at her after witnessing her onscreen romance with peeta?

she had played into her role during the games—the girl on fire who was head over heels for the baker’s son—but the games were over now and there was no need to pretend anymore. while peeta may have loved her, katniss’ feelings for him were never close to what she felt for you. she just hoped that you had realized that too.

no matter what peeta would say to her or how many people were there to worship her, everything seemed insignificant when she was face to face with you. and you felt exactly the same. that empty hole in your chest that had appeared when katniss had volunteered all those weeks ago was suddenly full. with her return to district 12, katniss everdeen has also returned your heart.

she finally started toward you, slowly at first, and then faster. it didn’t matter who was watching, whether it was peeta or the capitol or the whole world, she had a primitive need to be with you. and you would accept her with open arms.

she tightly hugged your shoulders, her grip so strong that you couldn’t have pulled away even if you wanted to. she pulled your body into hers and kept your face close to hers so that your noses were nearly touching.

your hands found solace holding each side of her face. she knew how powerful your hands were from all the times you had been hunting together so it meant even more when you were able to hold her so gently. you always touched her like she was glass that would break in your hands if you weren’t careful. she relished the feeling; no one had ever treated her so softly and made her feel so special, not peeta, not gale.

when you felt her warm skin beneath your fingers, everything felt all the more real. she was really there. she had really survived the deadliest of arenas and now she was here with you. she was here for you.

you shared a single loving gaze, one that conveyed every emotion. you shared your sorrow, your pain, your excitement, your joy, your newfound relaxation. you shared your bare love with each other.

only then did she press her lips to yours in a feverish kiss. your lips fit perfectly as your tears merged into a single stream. you disregarded air and molded yourselves into each other, willing the moment to live on forever.

a single thought entered katniss’ mind, one that would’ve sounded crazy to anyone but her:

she would’ve done it all over again if it meant coming home to you.

omg i’m so sorry that i haven’t been writing any requests i have 9 sitting in my inbox 😭

the next story will prob be camille from house of usher and then i’ll work on those requests starting with naomi from wolf of wall street

i’ll try to be better y’all 😔

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psychedelic-ink · 6 months

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𝐒𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐡 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 4.2k

chapter summary: Summer break is finally here, meaning it's time to pick the annual vacation spot for the Miller's, only this time you also have a say in where to go. Later that night Joel makes you a promise.

warnings: none, just some fluff and family dynamics, mention of parent abandonment (sarah's mom leaving), mention of an unplanned pregnancy (again, sarah's mom)

a/n: yes there is a modern family reference in this. a heavy one at that because that show has been engraved in my brain from rewatching it over and over this year

special thanks to @undercoverpena for cheering me on and to all the lovely readers who continue on joining in for the ride. ily all xx

Chapter Twelve || Chapter Fourteen

“I don’t understand. Sarah never in her life hurt anythin’. She hates it when I watch action movies and always calls me a caveman for it. How the hell is she gettin’ into a fight with some girl?”

He’s spiraling. That’s the easiest way to put it. His body is humming with worry, the light in the school hall burning his eyes. Sarah, his perfect little girl getting into trouble—

Surely it was self-defense.

He paces back and forth, then angrily looks at the door. Why is this taking so long? Why isn’t he already in there, learning what the hell happened?

“Take a breath, Joel.”

His head snaps towards the source of the voice, his heart easing a bit but not entirely calmed down yet. You offer him a kind smile, patting the seat next to you for him to join you. Joel shakes his head almost violently. “I can’t,” he sighs. “I need to know what the hell happened. I need to know if she’s alright.”

“She’s in class, she’s alright,” you swiftly get up from your sweet and cradle his cheeks. He wants to look away. He’s still not used to being this vulnerable, this open. “I need you to calm down before we go in, okay? Don’t go on wreaking havoc without us learning what happened.”

Joel grimaces, his brows furrowing, he holds your wrists and tugs your hands down. He sees a moment of hurt reflected in your eyes but is quick to appease those worries by pressing his lips against your cheek. He’s glad you’re here. Truly. But he’s also worried about Sarah. She might be in class, however, that doesn’t mean that she was hurt in some other way. He lets out another breath and looks at the door. If looks could kill the wooden furniture would be dead by now.

He’s in the middle of leaning in for a proper kiss when the door finally opens. Both of them jolt, turning towards the interruption. Joel recognizes the woman on the other side. She has straight black hair that’s in a neat ponytail and thick glasses perched above her nose. Joel remembers her vaguely from Sarah talking about school... Ms. Pritchett, if he's not mistaken. He doesn't remember her first name. She’s young, maybe closer to your age rather than his. He gives the teacher a pointed look, to which she answers with a kind smile.

“Mr Miller, welcome,” her gaze shifts to you “And…”

You quickly offer her your name, flustered, as much as Joel can tell. He's a bit ashamed to admit it but at that point, he doesn't really care to figure out why you're suddenly tripping over your words. Joel turns to the teacher, his shoulders squared and tense. “You called about Sarah gettin' in a fight?”

“Ah, yes. Please, come in.”

He feels the brush of your fingers against the small of his back, a soothing touch and a quick one at that. He wishes your touch would linger, that your body would drape over his like a soothing velvety blanket. Sadly, he can't have that. At least, not now. You sit across from him and Ms Pritchett takes her seat behind the large wooden desk. Joel appreciates the craftsmanship of it. The way the wood feels smooth and new under his touch, polished to perfection, reminding him of something Tommy would make in his spare time. His eyes then linger on the nameplate right in front of him, Lily Pritchett. Now he knows the name of Sarah's teacher.

Miss Pritchett laces her fingers on top of the desk, her sharp eyes fixed on Joel’s. He suddenly feels very exposed. Like this woman can see every mistake he’s made since the day he was born. Her smile isn’t soothing. Nor is the slight tilt of her head to make her seem whatever she’s about to say isn’t a big deal. But it is. He knows it is. He’s a single dad, no mom in the picture to help him out, and day by day those shortcomings are becoming more prominent in their lives.

“Has Sarah told you about why she’s been having trouble at school?”

The question is like a knife to the gut. It’s being twisted and pressed in deeper. He can feel your gaze on him but he refuses to look back. His heart skips a beat, then another. Why the fuck is he having trouble breathing?

“Her grades are high,” he manages to choke out between gritted teeth. “I ain’t aware of any trouble she’s been havin’.”

“I’m not talking about grades Mr. Miller. In that aspect, she’s excelling. But she seems to be having trouble fitting in—”

“She has friends.”

Miss Pritchett smiles again, albeit it looks more forced this time. As if Joel is working her last nerve, “She does. But those girls are in a grade higher.” she sighs and twirls her thumbs over one another. “I had a similar problem when I was her age. The thing is yesterday the girls were getting ready for gym class and started teasing each other by snapping each other’s bra straps.” Joel’s mouth goes dry. He’s definitely out of his element. He holds his breath and waits for the teacher to continue, he feels your hand on the slope of his knee. “But Sarah didn’t have one and the other girls started teasing her.”

“Why the hell are you talkin’ to us then?” Joel glowers and Miss Pritchett's mouth snaps shut. “Seems to me that my girl is the victim. Where are the parents of the others?”

“Mr. Miller. . .”

“No. I ain’t lettin’ her take the blame that was clearly some other kid’s fault!” his voice raises, his blood pumping faster, warmer. “You here blamin’ Sarah when she was clearly gettin’ bullied under your watch—”

“Sarah tackled one of the girls.”

Now it’s Joel’s turn to snap his mouth shut. Miss Pritchett's gaze turns sympathetic and you stiffen next to him, your fingers tightening around his knee. He shuffles in his seat and raises a brow, “Pardon?”

“Some words were exchanged about Sarah’s mother abandoning her and Sarah tackled the other student to the ground. Things didn’t escalate—When Miss Crest came in Sarah was just holding her down.”

“What did they say?” he growls, anger simmering right under the skin.

He hates feeling like this. So out of control. Hates that her daughter is being targeted for something that was out of his and her’s control.

“Her mother left us when she was young. A goddamn baby. Are you meanin’ to tell me that these kids are so undisciplined that they’ve been bullyin’ my girl for somethin’ that ain’t her fault?”

“The girl who said it, Kimberly,” Miss Pritchett sighs softly when Joel fixes her another glare. A warning that she’s seen too many times from overprotective parents. “She apologized later on and the two have been talking a bit in class.”

“I don’t care if she apologized—”

“Joel. . .” He finally turns to look at you. You say his name not as a warning, but more as an anchor grounding him to the moment. He’s breathing heavily. His body wrung out and ready to collapse. He takes a deep breath. In and out. He allows you to say what you want to say, what he’s too stuck in his own head to ask. Your gaze shifts from him to Miss Pritchett. “What should we do?”

“Try to talk to her. If her mother left when she was young, like you said,” she gestures towards Joel. “She might’ve not fully registered what happened. Or what it means to not have a mother and only now she might be realizing it. As for the other situation, it might be good to get her a training bra for now.”

A training bra, what does that even mean? It’s like he’s drowning, everyone saying things he just can’t understand.

“The girls reconciled but I just wanted to get a chance to talk to you, Mr. Miller, before summer break starts.”

God, they still have to pick out the annual vacation spot, “I appreciate it,” he mutters, not really looking at anyone in particular. He gets up from his seat and so do you and Miss Pritchett. She extends a hand and he takes it.

“Feel free to call if you have any other questions,” she says. “Sarah is a good girl and has a bright future. This is just a little bump in the road.”

And for the first time since he entered the office, Joel smiles. She does have a bright future. She’s the most amazing girl she knows.

“Thank you.”

The sky is crystal clear not a cloud in the sky. Joel hates it. And not just because he’s in a sour mood but because there’s nothing he can stare at in the sky. Nothing to distract him. They’re waiting for the final bell to ring so they can get Sarah and go home together. Tommy is supposed to pick them up.

“You have to calm down,” you say, walking up to him enough to leave a friendly distance in between. Joel is tired of keeping you a secret. He wants to feel the softness of your body against his own, want to feel your breath on his skin as you speak. “I can go with her and get her a training bra. But you need to be the one to talk to her.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You think I don’t know that?”

“I. . .I know you do. But let’s be honest you’re not exactly the most talkative. We’ve been together for a while and been living side by side for even longer—I still have no clue about Sarah’s mother or what her name is.”

“Her name is Jessica,” he deadpans. Then with a sigh, he drags his palm down his face. “It’s hard for me. I don’t really have answers, sweetheart. She just up and left one day. She must’ve planned it because it was right after when we switched to formula.”

“Did Sarah ever ask about her before?”

“Once. When she was little.”

“And?”

His cheeks burn with frustration and he stammers of his words, “I don’t know. I don’t remember, she was really young so I think I made up somethin’ about her having a job far away or somethin’.”

Joel groans and looks up to the sky. He watches the blank blue sky. How fucking boring.

Your touch on his cheek brings him back down, your smile a balm to his soul, “Just talk to her. Ask her if she has any questions and be honest. She’s a smart girl. I’m certain she’ll understand that you’ve been hurting too.”

Joel leans into the curve of your palm. A grateful smile tugs at the corner of his lips. You’re too good for him. That much he knows. You’re everything.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” his heart melts between the bones of his ribcage. “I lo—”

The sudden sound of the bell makes you both jerk away from one another. Joel’s eyes land on your face, you look horrified and panting with parted lips. He can’t help the burst of laughter that drops from his mouth as he places a hand on the top of your head.

“So jumpy,” he mutters, and as he does his eyes catch sight of a bubbly girl with beautiful brown curls. “And there’s Sarah.”

He might be imagining it but Joel swears you frown when he removes his hand from your head. Before Sarah comes over, he gives you a quick pinch on your waist and your smile is back.

“Hey there baby girl,” he says. “How was school?”

Sarah’s eyes flit between you and himself, “It was fine. . . Am I in trouble?”

“Not at all.” Sarah looks skeptical but accepts his father’s words for now. Just as she opens her mouth, a loud familiar honk interrupts. The three of them turn towards the song along with a couple of children and families.

“Whoops.” Joel can vaguely hear Tommy say as he jumps out of the truck. He makes his way towards them with quick steps, only slowing when his gaze lands on you. Joel hates the way his chest puffs up like a rooster at that. He doesn’t like the sudden kicked-puppy look Tommy is giving you. As if you’ve betrayed him in any way. . . He runs a hurried hand over his jaw. If anything all of this is Joel’s fault and not yours. He refuses to let anyone think otherwise.

“I thought the teacher called you?” Tommy asks, gesturing with his head to Joel. His gaze swiftly moves back to you. “What are you doin’ here, sweetheart?”

The endearment rolls off his tongue a bit too rough, which rubs Joel the wrong way. Joel watches you shift from one foot to the other, looking like a deer in headlights. “I asked her to come,” he steps up. “I was worried.”

Tommy’s eyes soften and Joel’s heart threatens to shatter. He knows his brother cares about him. It hurts especially when he shows his emotions so easily, the complete opposite of Joel, he’s like an open book.

The younger Miller holds Sarah’s shoulder and pulls her close, “You a’right? Anyone givin’ you trouble?”

“No, Uncle Tommy. It was more like I was the one causing trouble.”

All of them start towards the truck and as they do Joel doesn’t miss the way Tommy’s eyes light up at what she said.

“The perfect student finally getting her hands dirty? Now I’d pay good money to see that—”

“Tommy.”

“But I wouldn’t obviously,” Tommy clarifies, ignoring Joel’s warning. He leans into Sarah’s ear. “Did you get them good, baby?”

Sarah smiles and Joel realizes he would let her get away with murder if he must.

“I did.”

“That’s my girl.”

You and Sarah sit in the back while Joel sits in the passenger seat and Tommy gets behind the wheel. An uncomfortable silence surrounds them. The car starts moving and Joel turns a bit, looking between both you and Sarah. You’re looking out the window, your forehead smushed against the glass and Sarah is pretty much doing the same thing excluding the smushed forehead part. He sighs and turns back. Tommy is also tense which Joel can tell by the way he holds the wheel. He can’t really blame him. If you coming along with Joel wasn’t a tell of some sort he doesn’t know what is.

“So,” Joel says loudly, cutting the silence in two. “We might as well plan the family trip while we’re drivin’ back home.”

“Italy.” Sarah piques.

“Every god damn year—no Sarah we’re not goin’ to Italy. But we will one day. Promise.”

“Then I’m out of suggestions.”

“What about you?” Joel asks, addressing you. For a second you look unsure, and he notices your eyes finding Tommy’s through the rear window mirror. “With how often we see each other you might as well come with us on vacation. It’s only for a week.”

“Are you sure?”

Your voice comes out tiny, insecure. He hates it.

“‘Course I am.”

Tommy jumps in before you can respond, "How about Lake Buchanan? You know, where we used to take Sarah when she was little. There's a resort there now, called Canyon of the Eagles or something."

Joel raises an eyebrow, considering the suggestion. "Not a bad idea, Tommy. What do you think?" he asks, stealing a glance at you through the mirror.

A small, genuine smile forms on your face. "Sounds perfect. I'm in."

"Great," Joel grins. "Lake Buchanan it is."

Sarah, who had been lost in thought, perks up at the mention of the destination. "Lake Buchanan?"

"Yep, that's the place.” a fond smile playis on his lips. “Remember the stargazing?"

"Not really,” Sarah scrunches her face in concentration. “But it might be fun."

"It's gonna be a blast."

Joel shares a glance with you, both of you secretly reveling in the joy that Sarah's excitement brings.

He has no idea how long he’s been staring, but he knows it’s been for a while now.

Sarah walked up to her room pretty quickly when they arrived home, Joel wasn’t happy about the way she practically ran away from having a discussion, however he also figured he learned from the best—which was himself.

He takes a deep inhale, feels the way his chest expands, and exhales all of it from his lungs. He can do this. He can talk.

Joel knocks three times with his heart in his throat. He never felt more relieved in his life when he heard the faint permission to enter the room.

“Hey there, kiddo,” he says, leaving the door open. “I think we might have some things we need to discuss.”

“Is this about Kimberly?” Sarah sighs and closes the book she was reading. She sits up on her bed, pulling her skinny knees up to her chest, she stares at her dad. “I’ve already delt with that. We’re fine. And I’ll never do it ever again,” she raises her hand as if she was pledging herself to the American flag. “Promise.”

“You know that’s not why I’m here. There’s more we need to talk about and you know it.”

“I know you don’t like talking about her, dad,” she sighs. “I’m sorry I tackled Kimberly. She just got on my nerves. I don’t even know where it came from.”

Joel decides not to tell her that she did good tackling her classmate and that he’s proud. No one gets to bully his daughter, and he’s glad she knows how to defend herself. But it’s probably a good thing he doesn’t encourage it.

“I don’t mind talkin’ about it,” he says instead. “What do you wanna know?”

Sarah blinks, “Why’d she leave?”

The second time today Joel is indescribably gutted. It was a question he didn’t know the answer quite himself. He hated calling Sarah an accident—but if he had to keep it blunt that was what it was. They were young when they got married, and eager to be with one another. Joel still remembers the night. The creaking of his old truck as rain fell upon them. At the time he would’ve called it romantic. Jessica had just left work, Joel was waiting for her right in the parking lot. He didn’t want her to get soaked under the rain. She was upset at something that happened at work and searched for relief in his mouth. He remembers the way her curls tickled his face, how eager she was to mark his neck—

That was the first time he came inside her. She said she would take a pill the next day. Three weeks later they were pregnant. Joel, despite their crippling finances, was excited. A baby—what else could he have wanted? Sure he had to make some adjustments to his career but that didn’t matter to him.

Jessica left as soon as Sarah didn’t need to breastfeed anymore. She didn’t even leave a note. Her family was out of state and technology wasn’t as savvy as it was now. He couldn’t track her down. He’s also ashamed to admit he didn’t really try. He was hurt. Heartbroken. He thought they had something special, that having Sarah was both of their dreams.

But apparently, it was only his.

All he can feel is pain as he takes a seat next to Sarah on the bed. He wants to console her, tell her some solid truth that would ease her pain. But he can think of none.

“I don’t know, baby,” he says barely above a whisper. “She didn’t leave a note when she left and I could never track her down.” Sarah’s eyes shine with coming tears. He can’t handle it anymore, he pulls her to his chest, hugs her tight. “I’m sorry baby girl. None of this is your fault. I—I wish I could be better. I know I have shortcomings but I’m gettin’ there promise. And. . . And if you want we can. . .” A knot forms in his throat. He can barely speak. “We can track her down. Ask her for the truth. Because I swear sweetheart I don’t know. Maybe I did something to run her off,” Sarah stiffens under his hold but he continues. A faint sniffling reaches his ears. “I was workin’ day and night at the time. Tryin’ to get the business goin’. It’s possible I wasn’t attentive as much as I wanted to be—I might’ve—”

“Dad.” Sarah’s voice comes out harsh as she peels herself away from Joel’s embrace. He sees the fire in her eyes but also the pain, her sweet cheeks wet. Her brows are furrowed much like his and he can’t help but think it’s the cutest thing. “Her leaving isn’t your fault,” she then says, taking him by surprise. “I don’t know what you did—or if you did anything— but she lost all credibility when she just got up and left. Both. . . both of you were dealing with something huge. That burden can’t just be yours.”

Joel blinks rapidly. His eyes sting when he does, he takes a sharp inhale and refuses to wipe his eyes. He’s not crying. He’s not emotional. It’s just the remains of the damn perfume Sarah likes to spray so much of.

“And sure, we might have some problems, but that happens in every family. I love what we have. You’re the best dad a girl can ask for.”

“You think so?” Joel chokes out. Sarah quickly nods, her own eyes suddenly wetter than before. With a smile, he shakes his head and pulls her in for another embrace. “For what it’s worth you’re the best daughter a dad could ask for,” he murmurs. “And I ain’t mad at you for tacklin’ that Kimberly girl. She deserved it.”

Sarah’s laugh comes out muffled, “Dad. . . you’re not supposed to say that.”

“I don’t care.”

They hold on to each other with no urgency of breaking apart. He doesn’t care about the others. About the other families and their children. All he cares about is his daughter’s wellbeing. His own family that he built from jack squat.

The rest of the world can eat shit for all he cares. As long as his little girl is safe, his brother doing alright and you in his life, he doesn’t care about the Kimberlys of the world.

“So everything went alright with Sarah?”

Settling beside Joel, a bowl of popcorn rests comfortably on your lap. The DVD menu is on, faint music of the movie he popped in echoing from the speakers. You were a bit hesitant to come over after today. And you were surprised to hear that Sarah went out to stay with her friends. You’d expected the two to have a long talk, maybe even share a pint of ice cream. But Sarah was Joel’s daughter after all, just like his father she probably cut it short, told her how she felt and they both moved on.

You can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. However, as long as they’re both happy you don’t care all that much about how they get there.

“It went fine,” Joel responds, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Just like you said, I was honest and she understood. I’m tryin’ to figure out where to go from here. I think there are a bunch of old pictures in the garage, including Jessica and Sarah as a baby. I don’t know if she would wanna see those though.”

“Yeah. . .” Your eyes shift to the screen, sadly, you don’t really have an answer to that. It’s not like Sarah thinks of her mother fondly and would want to see pictures. Your brain and heart are both worn out from everything that happened today. Both organs scrambled and twisted. You let out a soft sigh—a sigh so soft that it barely parts your lips, but he hears you.

“I haven’t asked how you were feelin’ about all this,” he squeezes your shoulder. “How have ya been? This wasn’t all too much for you was it?”

You smile. After all this time you’re still not used to being looked out after.

“I’m okay. I just. . .” You think of Tommy and the look he gave you right before giving all his attention to Sarah. The hurt look in his eyes. The suspicion. “I need you to promise me something—I need you to swear on it.”

His brows furrow, the deep crease between them making your heart clench. You chew on the inside of your cheek, your stomach suddenly full of knots. “I need you to swear you’ll tell Tommy soon. We—We can do it together if you want but I can’t handle seeing him almost every day and just lying—”

“You’re—We’re not lyin’—”

“Swear.”

He turns to you now. The soft light of the TV illuminating his face, making it appear softer. More innocent and full of hurt. His eyes grow kind, understanding. Your eyes widen slightly. Your breath catches in your throat. Your heart plummets. You don’t think there’s a man out there capable of better understanding you than Joel Miller. He’s everything. And he makes you feel like everything.

“On my life.”

we're entering the vacation arc babes 🚗🌲🏞️

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #stay in bed

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icecreamchonchips · 11 months

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Charlie walker x reader.

I like you a lot. • Charlie Walker.💭

Summary: your first makeout with charlie, only fluff, kiss, the reader wears a skirt, mention of breast!, also this was just supposed to be a headcanon but i like so much that turn it into this. English is not my first language so may have grammar mistakes. Also it's my first fic in english, yay!

When you asked charlie to watch a movie in your house he was shocked, not only because you also liked horror films but you liked supernatural horror films.

he never really liked the idea of the supernatural especially in films, but you didn't know that, you though to yourself that poor charlie is so scared of the film, that he subconsciously was wipping his wet palm on your couch. Thinking that you wouldn't noitice.

poor charlie he is so nervous, he can't even focus the film you guys are watching. He can't even pretended that he cares about it.

Not with your uncoverd thigh on top of his, especially close to his crotch. With your hands playing with his soft hair, your fruit perfume invading his nose, your nails slitly touching his ear, your soft touch on his hair making him think even more harder.

you turn your eyes at him, looking at how the red light reflects on his pale skin, how his expression change through the scenes and specially how he clinch his jaw and press his lips. He just looks so good, his soft hair almost shinning as the colors on the tv change and reflects on his face, his blue baby eyes looking at the screen like he's looking for something to pop out of the screen.

As you gaze at him, subconsciously bringing your whole body closer to him, charlie only notice how your thigh only got closer and closer to his crotch. He looks down, your once covered thigh now is fully uncovered I can barely see their lace underwear he thinks.

But you don't know that, you simply thinking that he is scared of the film you picked. "Charlie, are you scared?" You ask, your soft voice making his body hair shiver, making him turn his face to you.

The worry painted in your face with your eyebrows joined together on your forehead, your shimmer eyes looking directly at him, the shadow of your figure making him realize how close you two are.

You're so close that he swear to smell your chapstick, watermelon he would guess, your perfect lined lips in front of him, he would kill just to have the small chance to feel them.

"Charlie," you say louder than the last time, his eyes rapidly turning from your lips to your eyes. "Are you scared? We can change if you want, it's fine." the words coming out of your mouth faster than you wish it would.

Your hot breath reaching his skin, he glances at your parted lips, wondering how they would feel like, was kissing you sweet? You would think that he was a good kisser? How your lips would feel all over him. Would you like kissing him? Would you like if he put his hands on your hips? Would you let him do that? He thinks. Turning his eyes from your lips to your eyes.

Charlie nods his head, he didn't know what you said, he truly would agree on anything that you said to him right now.

You pause the movie, you put your hands around his shoulders, looking at him in a tentative to calm him down, only to realize that he's focus is not even close to your eyes. His eyes are locked in your lips.

And in a reflex you do the same. You look at his lips, his little plump pink lips, the ones that you always wanted to feel, are red from biting them so hard imagining you around them.

"Charlie," you say, not being able to shift away from his pierce gaze. " yeah." he responds,he answers so quietly it almost sounds like a sigh. "Can I kiss you ?"you ask, his eyes shift from your eyes to your lips.

"mhm.." he nods his head slightly, almost like a child who's eating dessert before dinner. his right hand, who moments ago was holding on his body, now, is lightly pressed on your jaw gently bringing you to the meeting between your lips.

As the gap between your mouths are easily filled, little and slow pecks are disposable on each other lips. You Slowly turn your head, opening your mouth, charlie follows your movements, his hot breath meeting yours, making your body shiver, your tongues shyly touching each other, finally meeting.

Is a slow, soft kiss, your leading him, one of charlie hands are cupping your face and the other one, in the back of your hips, travels up on your body, bringing with him a heat. As he softly pressures your hips closer to him, making him lead the way.

His tongue travels through your mouth, like he wants to memorize every part of it, every part of you.

Quickly cutting the kiss in a gasp for air, but still bringing his lips to your face, kissing your cheeks, the tip of your nose and your jaw traveling down to your neck.

Dropping kisses everywhere he can, they are sweet but needy and you can feel how needy he his. you cup his face, bringing his lips back to yours.

Charlie removes his hand from your face, bringing them to the side of your couch, supporting your body weight with his other hand on your hip.

Charlie holds you, swolly pushing your body down making him stay on top of you. his hands travels through your body, as if he were looking for something, as if your body were the most extraordinary thing in he ever seen in the whole world, with his hand still under your hip, he makes small movements pulling them up, cutting all the distance between their bodies.

as your lungs ask for air, you push charlie breaking the kiss, you let out a groan, almost hating your own body for the need to breathe. You're almost drugged from traveling so much inside Charlie's mouth.

"You okay?." He says, on top of you. You nod. "Just needed to breath." You answer. His eyes chancing for any tipe of discomfort you may have. His large hand is dangerously close to your covered breasts.

You hold all of your horniness together and hold his hand, bringing them up to your breast, the small touch of him under your clothes already making your knees shake, and the hot sensation between your legs grow. You take your hand off charlie, letting him touch you, in the messy way he wants to.

You bring his face down reconnecting your lips again, the sweet taste of the candybar you both shared before the movie started, filling your tongue, bringing the sensation that maybe, just maybe, this isn't just a another twisted crush you had, maybe this could be something else you say to yourself.

As the two of you stare at each other, a failed tentative to remark this moment forever, both of you look a mess, around both of your lips have a fine line of saliva, from the slopy kisses you two had. You gaze at charlie baby blue eyes, you notice they have a needy but lovely look on his eyes are.

Charlie could stay like this forever, his head down relaxing on your breasts, your hands playing with his dirty blond hair, taking pecs whenever he wants to. watching some film about an unprepared couple who moves to a haunted house. He could listen to your rants about how these movies are fake because in your opinion, "you would also haunt rich people", making him giggle. Softly kissing the top of his head, but unfortunately, you two had classes together in the morning.

As the movies finish, you lead charlie to your front door.

"Good night, Charlie." You say, your soft voice sounding like melodies to him. Making his body who was already away from you, quickly come back. Stealing small but sweet a peck from your lips, "you two, babe." He runs back to his car, unable to face you after calling you a nickname.

You see his car leave and closes the door, you can't wait to tell your diary.

#charlie walker x reader #charlie walker fanfic #charlie walker #°♡`☆writes☆`♡°#rory culkin #yayyy ^ ^#scream 4 #scream franchise #charlie walker headcannons #charlie walker fanfiction #charlie walker x you

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serverusslaype · 4 days

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Shameless, pt. 15

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hey guys.................. dont kill me. i'm so sorry for the incredibly lengthy hiatus.... i had no motivation, each time i opened the file to type i'd type a couple words, maybe a paragraph and close it. i finally found the motivation to finish this chapter recently, i'm hoping it stays. it's been a rough couple months, so hoping this can help me feel a bit better!!

i felt really guilty for sort of abandoning the fic where it was, but i couldn't force myself to write anything, there was no creative juice, i think i sort of burnt myself out. and for the previous posts saying i was back, i thought i was, but i'd have the smallest spark of inspiration and try to write, but then nothing happened, and i felt bad so i didn't want to say something like, sorry, i lied. :(

hopefully this chapter is okay, i know most of you won't like it, but i'm so glad i finally finished it, it was one of the hardest to write because i had so many ideas on how it'd end and effect the whole story itself, so i had to make sure it made sense.

i can't believe you guys are still here after so long, it made me emotional to see all of your asks and comments and likes, i was just floored to be honest, so thank you so much for your unwavering support. i love you all so so much. honestly. holy shit. this has been a journey. <3 i hope you guys are all doing brilliantly.

warnings: lack of snape, swearing, mentions of adultery, slight domestic violence, verbal abuse at the end

You didn't know where to go. You felt... lost. You couldn't exactly go back to your quarters, not with Ben there, you didn't need more questions about why you were crying your eyes out at this time of night. It's not like you could tell him the truth.

So, you did what anyone would: go for a midnight walk. Well, at least that's what you thought anyone would do when they had nowhere to go. You'd hoped that the fresh, cold air would soothe your burning lungs, and the gentle breeze would dry your teary eyes. In an even deeper, darker part of your mind, you also hoped that Black would find you. Perhaps that would make everything... easier.

With tears still streaming freely from your eyes and heavy feet, you padded towards the large, magnificent doors that led to the outside with your arms wrapped around your body tightly; trying your best not to breakdown until you were alone. Your hands were still shaking as you pushed them against the doors, opening it a tad as the cool wind blew through the crack and into your face. You gasped a little at the sharp breeze, but nonetheless you slipped out, and made your way into the courtyard. The temperature was a little more biting than you had anticipated, and so you squeezed your arms around yourself a little tighter, walking towards the infamous wooden, crooked bridge.

As you sauntered through the courtyard, the only noises you heard were the owls hooting in the distance, the gentle breeze brushing through the burnt-amber leaved trees and the faint clack of your heels against the cobblestoned ground. In all honesty, it did feel a little eerie to the say the least, but at this very moment that was the least of your worries. All you wanted was a little time alone to cry, or grieve what could have been with ...Severus.

Gods, it hurt to even think his name, let alone speak it.

You reached the wooden bridge, and you stopped in the middle of it; leaning against the intricately carved columns to gaze out at the highlands. The moonlight casted a gorgeous glaze-like reflection upon the Black Lake, and it twinkled beautifully, almost hypnotising you like an illusion. Your eyes flicked up to the moon and glanced around it, staring at the glittering stars surrounding it like a perfect painting. Only times like this did you miss teaching Astronomy. As your mind reeled back to your first year teaching at Hogwarts, you relished in the time where you did not know the man named Severus Snape, and suddenly your heart sank in your chest like an anchor dropped at sea. You were so naive back then, unknowing of what was to come.

As the memories of you and Severus flooded your mind like a dam breaking, you let yourself cry. You could still feel his lips on yours, his fingertips gently tracing the curves and grooves of your skin, the words he'd whispered into your ear - it was all there, stained on your skin, like a tattoo - or perhaps a branding. And now you had to live with it. You weren't sure if you'd survive this time, especially not with how deeply you felt for him. You were torn between pretending he didn't exist and trying to talk to him, perhaps even telling him how you felt, but truth be told you were petrified of how he'd react. Would he even look at you again with those glittering black eyes you'd come to adore so hopelessly? Would he dare speak to you again, knowing that he'd charmed you? Maybe he'd relish in the fact that he'd done so, take pride in bewitching you, and make you hurt for it. You knew Snape could be rather cruel, your school days here with him as your teacher was enough for you to know that.

All these unanswered questions swam through your head and you felt yourself becoming suffocated from them, and it suddenly felt as if your lungs had filled with water, drowning you. You sobbed helplessly as you slid down the wooden wall behind you with your hands against your face, the rough edges scratching your back through your clothes rather uncomfortably.

"Y/N?" A voice came from beside you, and you froze. You turned your head away from them and quickly used your sleeve to wipe your eyes, drying the tears that had fallen from them. Only one person has a voice as soft as the one you had just heard.

You gave yourself a moment to gather yourself before even attempting to use your voice.

"Hello, Remus." You croaked quietly, sniffling.

"What on Earth are you doing out here so late?" He questioned gently, and you heard him take a step towards you. "Are you alright?"

"Quite dandy," you sarcastically quipped, sighing deeply, "I'm brilliant..." You turned your head to face him, and immediately, his face softened at the sight of your own. You were sat up against the side of the bridge, knees up against your chest and your arms wrapped around them; nose and eyes red, wet with tears. Remus quickly dropped down to his knees beside you, placing a soothing hand upon your forearm.

"What happened?" Remus asked, careful to keep his voice quiet and soft. With empty eyes, you stared into his worried ones, and instantly you felt terrible. The last thing you wanted was people worrying over you.

You looked away, down at the ground. "I..." you mumbled, sighing, "it's a... long... story." You spoke slowly. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small smile quirk up on Remus's lips.

"I've got time, my dear." He replied as his thumb brushed your forearm, silently encouraging you to talk. You felt at ease in Remus's presence, it was almost like he had a calm aura around him, and naturally your body relaxed beside his. You took a deep breath.

"Erm," you choked, sniffling again, "it's Se... Snape." You couldn't bring yourself to say his first name without crumbling into a million pieces.

Remus let out a gentle breath. "Snape, of course," He tutted, glancing between you and the ground. "What's he done?" The fact that Remus reacted like he had expected Snape to have hurt you, further broke your heart. Were you the only one to have seen through his icy exterior?

"Broken my heart," You laughed dryly, and you had to fight back another bout of tears. Remus's brows furrowed in confusion at you. "We... I... Look, I'm not sure how to explain this to you. But... I fell..." You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. Your heart hurt too much. You only hoped that Remus knew what you were about to say.

Remus blinked and stared at you, shocked. Clearly, the two of you had hidden your 'relationship' well - so well that everyone was oblivious to it. "You fell...?" He frowned.

"In love... with him..." You almost whispered, avoiding Remus's eyes. You weren't sure if you'd be able to handle the look in them.

"You're in love with... Severus?" Remus repeated, and you squeezed your eyes shut at his words. They were like daggers, stabbing your bleeding heart. It was almost like you could feel it trembling inside of your chest, begging you to free it from this cycle of torment. "But... Aren't you with... Ben? And... Severus... he's..."

"I know," you sighed, noticing his confusion, "I had feelings for Severus before I met Ben. And it sort of just, like, spiralled out of control, and now, erm, here I am- Gods, I should have just listened to Minerva, I wouldn't be here right now, hurting like this." You ranted, another strangled sob leaving your throat. Remus watched you, and his eyes softened. He felt terrible for you. "She warned me, Remus, why didn't I just listen to her?!" You cried, letting your head fall into your hands.

"Y/N," Remus whispered, reaching out a cautious hand to pry your face from your hands. With a soft gasp, you looked up with teary eyes, and he wiped a stray tear from your cheek. "We don't get to choose who we do and don't fall in love with. We follow our hearts blindly, most of the time, unknowingly." He said, and moved his hand from your wet cheek to your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. "It's beyond our control who we love."

There was a moment of silence.

"...What do I do, Remus?" You sobbed softly, sniffling, looking at your knees.

"Have you told him?"

"No."

"I think you should."

"But what about Ben? Shouldn't I... deal with... that first?" You sniffled again. "And what if Severus doesn't feel the same way about me? Then what?"

Remus paused for a moment, thinking. You looked up at him. "What if he does?" He said, a small, comforting smile tickling his lips as he stared at you.

"Well- from the way he treated me earlier... I truly doubt it, Remus." You scoffed, glancing away from his pitying brown eyes.

Remus sighed, and you clenched your jaw. "Regret is a terrible thing, Y/N," he said, "it's such a short word, yet it stretches on forever." Your eyes were glued on the ground and your body was still, but your mind was running a million miles an hour.

You sat there in silence for a short moment, thinking deeply. Remus was right. You'd regret it for the rest of your life if you didn't tell Severus how you felt. That chance of him reciprocating your feelings was small, but it was still there. If he didn't feel the same, fine, you'd move on. Eventually. And if he did?...

"...Alright," You nodded sheepishly. "I'll tell him. I just... need to, erm, work out when and more specifically, how. Like, do I just straight up blurt it out? Work my way up to it? H-how do you know it's the right time?" You rambled with tears still falling from your eyes, glancing through them at Remus who sat beside you with a soft expression upon his features.

"You'll know." Was all he said before slowly standing and holding out a hand for you to take. Graciously, you took it, and Remus pulled you to your feet. "Feel better?" He hummed, casting a glance out at the moon, then a worried look suddenly struck his eyes. You noticed and frowned slightly at his behaviour.

The moon?

"A little." You forced a smile upon your lips, and lifted up a hand to wipe the remaining stray tears upon your red cheeks. Remus looked back at you, and returned your smile. "How come you were out so late?" You asked curiously, brushing off his odd reaction to seeing a moon.

"A walk in the night does me good," Remus shrugged, and began to walk back towards the castle with you beside him. "Clears my head."

"Ah, well, I suppose I'm glad you found me, then." You chuckled awkwardly, folding your arms against your chest.

Remus smiled at you and placed an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. "Let's get you back to your quarters, Y/N, you look like an ice block." He hummed and lead you back to the castle, but not before throwing another glance over his shoulder to the almost-full-moon.

Faint, footsteps trailed down an empty corridor, and a billowing black cape followed with it. As Severus marched, his chest felt horribly heavy, almost like there was a boulder chained to it, weighing him down. He couldn't figure out why he felt like this, and it was starting to make him a little irate. He knew it was something to do with you since it had started after you'd stormed out of his office.

As Severus was about to round a corner, the sound of familiar, sweet laughter rattled through his bones, and immediately he froze. Without a doubt, he knew it was you. Only you could have laughter that sounded like the sweet songs that birds chirped in the summer mornings. The breath in his lungs suddenly vanished and he quickly swooped himself behind a bookcase, poking his head out from the side of it to see who you were with.

The moment you appeared, that boulder chained to his chest became heavier, and he felt himself lean against the bookcase he hid behind. Severus's eyes widened as they glued themselves to the man beside you - Remus Lupin. His blood boiled at the sight.

What could have Lupin have said to make you laugh like that? He'd only heard you laugh like that when you were with him, not Lupin.

From a distance, he couldn't make out what the two of you were talking about, but it was obviously hilarious. Severus's jaw clenched as he watched Lupin place a hand upon the small of your back, guiding you.

Guiding you... inside your quarters?

Snape hissed silently to himself as he stared, his sharp and hardened eyes welded to the back of Lupin's head like molten metal. As your door shut, Snape could only huff in disgust with bared teeth. What were the two of you doing in there? It was past midnight and you and Lupin seemed happy as Larry to go into your quarters. Snape couldn't bear the idea of you and Lupin alone together - let alone the fact that Lupin had had his damned, grubby paws on you. Severus clenched his jaw in a violent fashion, very clearly upset at how you'd moved on so quickly, especially with another professor at Hogwarts. Was this your thing? Bewitch every lonely professor that you laid your wretched eyes upon and then move onto the next? Did it make you feel better about yourself in some fucked up way?

An uneasy, bitter feeling twisted inside of his chest as he pictured the two of you alone and he whipped around out of spite; the swoosh of his long, black cloak filling the silent hallway. How could you move on so quickly, so... easily?

"Never did I think I'd see the day that someone told me they fell in love with a man like Severus Snape." Remus laughed softly as he waddled to your sofa, glancing at you as if to ask if it was alright to sit. You nodded at him.

"And yet here we are." You hummed with a flat mouth, clearly not as amused as your friend was. "Sometimes I wish I was as emotionally guarded as he was, but then I remember how bloody miserable that would be." You mumbled, earning an abrupt laugh from Lupin who'd settled on the couch with a soft sigh.

Ben was nowhere to be seen, so you assumed he was asleep in the bedroom.

"Severus is an interesting character, most definitely," Lupin nodded and you turned around, walking towards him to join him on the sofa. "And I applaud you for being able to tame him. If it's any consolation, only one other woman had been able to, though I think it was... unintentional, if you will."

"Unintentional?" You questioned, your tone curious. Though almost instantly, that curiosity was killed as the thought of Severus with another woman stabbed at your fragile heart. "Actually, I'm not sure if I want to hear this right now." A dry laugh slipped from your lips and you exhaled sharply as another wave of tears prickled at your waterline.

"Alright." Lupin said softly, taking notice of your quivering voice. He stood up with a breathy groan and shuffled towards you, slinking an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. It was calming, and the way he hugged you reminded you of all the times your parents would comfort you as a child. As Lupin gave you a supportive squeeze, it was as if he'd accidently pushed the button for the waterworks - hot tears began to stream down your cheeks once again, and you sobbed quietly into his wrinkled shirt.

"Hey," Lupin sighed as he watched your shoulders shake with sorrow. His hand sat on the top of your arm, squeezing it gently: a dire attempt at consoling you. "Don't cry, Y/N, it'll pass."

"Idon'twantitto-" You mumbled into his shirt, sniffling loudly. Lupin's brows furrowed together in confusion as he paused for a brief moment, silently trying to decipher what you'd just said.

"What?" He asked gently, leaning his head down so he could hear you a little better. You lifted your head from him, sighing, another heartbreaking sniffle sneaking out of your reddened nose.

"I don't want it to." You repeated yourself, lifting a hand up to wipe your wet eyes lazily.

"I know. But it will." Lupin sighed too. "Severus is... a very... damaged man," He cringed slightly at his choice of words, but he continued, "I'm not even sure that you could help him- or fix him."

At this point, you were staring soullessly at the floor, and the only thing you could feel was Lupin's chest against your shoulders. Were you and Severus really a lost case? You felt like you'd made so much progress, he'd opened up to you, he'd... he also ran away again. Perhaps your friend Remus is right.

"I think I want to be alone." You suddenly blurted out, slowly glancing up at the professor with glossy, red eyes. Lupin blinked at you, confused for a moment, though he quickly came to. He didn't blame you for saying such a thing - you'd just had your heart ripped out, to put it simply.

Remus didn't say anything, he only nodded, offering you a kind, yet pitiful smile - and that hurt you slightly. You didn't want his pity, in fact, you didn't want anyone's pity. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." He muttered, brushing a hand through your hair softly. You shut your eyes for a moment and sighed, a small gush of guilt filling your body. Here Lupin was, trying to console you, and you're kicking him out. You hoped he didn't take it personally.

"I'm sorry, I... I just need to be alone." You quickly offered. Remus shook his head and frowned at you.

"No, I understand. See you in the morning, Y/N. Feel better soon." The professor smiled at you and this time it wasn't rich with pity, but kindness. He tipped his head at you and began to shuffle his way towards the door, opening it with a quiet creak from the oak. Before he disappeared out of your chambers, Remus turned around and smiled at you once more, slipping away.

Seconds after the door shut, a drowsy-looking Ben opened your bedroom door, popping his head out. He squinted at the bright light, clearly having just woken up. That settled your nerves slightly, since you'd just spoken about Severus with Remus, only a few metres away from Ben.

"Are you crying?" Ben yawned, his bushy brows furrowed in either confusion or annoyance - at this point you couldn't tell.

"No," You coughed and turned around to pretend to do something else as you wiped at your eyes. "I'm fine, go back to bed, Ben." A curt sigh fell from your lips, and almost immediately you heard footsteps padding closer to you. "I'm fine." You repeated, listening as his feet stopped behind you.

"What happened?" Ben asked, the tiniest hint of sympathy in his voice made you shiver slightly.

"Nothing, it was just a rough day at work, honestly. I'd rather not talk about it." Your brows shot together as you tried to keep the tears at bay, but you couldn't help but think about Severus as Ben placed a hand on your waist in an attempt to pry you away from the countertop and towards him. You didn't want anyone else's hands on you but his.

"Hey," Ben said softly, though it felt heavy in your chest. "It's work. It won't matter in a day or two." You were silent. "Y/N?"

"I need a drink." You muttered and forced yourself to look at Ben, cringing slightly as you walked past him and towards a glossy wooden cabinet in the corner of your chambers. You rarely drank, and if you did, it was to either celebrate something, or forget something.

Another uncomfortable silence fell on top of the pair of you.

"Want one?" You asked with no emotion in your voice.

Ben hesitated for a moment, his groggy eyes staring at the back of your figure, silently trying to deduce you. "...Sure."

You were going to regret this.

You'd changed into comfier clothes, more specifically a pair of forest green silk shorts and a matching camisole top. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you faced Ben as he was sat on the windowsill opposite you, nursing his glass of wine. After a few strong sips, the pair of you were chatting and reminiscing like old pals. "Remember that time when I turned Peter Kipling into a weasel in McGonagall's class?" Ben giggled drunkenly, elbowing you gently as you nodded with tears in your eyes, an amused grin spread across your face.

"Oh my- I forgot about that!" You wheezed, smacking your lips together. "Didn't you get... like... at least- like a month's detention for that?" You laughed, slurring, taking another sip of your glass of Elven wine. You winced slightly at the strong aftertaste as it burned your throat. That was to be your last drink, you couldn't take much more.

"Ohh, yeah, I d-id," Ben hiccuped, his laughter dying out as he sighed; his tired eyes falling onto you. Shuffling under his gaze, you felt slightly uncomfortable. A brief yet thick silence suddenly engulfed the two of you like a slow-burning fire. Ben stood from where he'd been sat, stumbling over to where you were, stopping just in front of your knees.

"I miss talkin' to you, Y/N." He sighed, taking his hand and placing it upon your cheek; carressing the apple of it with his rough thumb. The strong scent of alcohol on his breath made you gag a tad - you were drunk as well, but the smell of it wasn't pleasant, especially from his mouth.

Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden contact.

"..Yeah." You answered quietly albeit awkwardly as you stared up at Ben. Though, all the wine you'd consumed was making him look like someone... else - the darkness wasn't helping either, in fact it was fueling your hallucinations. The dark cast of a shadow from the lit candles behind him made his nose appear larger, and his cheekbones a little more pronounced.

Slowly, he crouched down until you two were eye-level, his hands slipping to your ankles. Your body stiffened slightly at the feeling. "Ben.." You warned, sighing as the drunk buzz and pleasurable tingle from the pads of his fingers was starting to cloud your mind.

"Whaat?" He whispered, heavy-lidded eyes still glued to yours as his fingers began to trail up your calves. Ben began to stand up slightly, pushing his face dangerously close to yours, and so you leant backwards to avoid him, your back gradually making contact with the bed. He shuffled forwards slightly, pressing a knee against the edge of the bed to balance himself.

You shouldn't be doing this, you knew that, but Gods, the alcohol was truly fucking with your morals and mind.

Would it hurt?

Just a little... taste...?

You shut your eyes as you became lost in the feeling; his fingers reaching the backs of your soft thighs, a breathy sigh falling from your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes again as Ben's smalelr nose pressed into your neck, followed by his wet lips. You gasped as his hands found your torso, his fingers pressing a little too harshly into your flesh.

Severus.

Memories of him suddenly flooded your mind like a reservoir breaking a dam, flushing out anything that didn't embody him. All the times Severus had attacked your supple flesh beautifully; pulling gorgeous moans from those pink lips of yours. Your brows furrowed together as your body silently yearned for his touch. It hurt.

You were stuck between stopping this and just shamelessly indulging in the dark, twisted fantasy of pretending that Ben was Severus. You were being so selfish. And yet, you didn't care, all of the emotional turmoil that you'd been through tonight was pushing you to the edge - all you wanted was the man who didn't love you, who only saw you as a quick fuck, maybe some midnight company.

You shut your eyes again and tried your best to imagine him. With a sigh, you ran your hand up Ben's neck and into his hair, though it wasn't the same. You missed the way you'd tangle your fingers in his raven-black locks, gripping on it as he'd ravish your neck and breasts like some mad professional. Sighing frustratedly, you moved your hands down to his shoulders, expecting the rough, black fabric of Severus's robes, and yet you were met with the flimsy, thin fabric of Ben's white cotton t-shirt.

You felt so fucking pathetic.

Knock, knock.

You froze, eyes snapping open as quick as lightning. Was there someone at the door?

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Ben groaned drunkenly as he continued to kiss your neck. Unfortunately for him, the feeling had worn off the second you heard those knocks.

"The knocks at the door."

"You're.. imag-ining things, baby." Ben sighed and hiccuped once more, his uncomfortably hot breath on your neck made you shiver. At this point, Ben was much more drunk than you, and so with your remaining energy, you rolled him off of you. "Whoa- heey-!" He groaned as you slipped from underneath him, padding to the door. You didn't bother to check if he was alright, the only thing on your mind was who was at your door at this time of night.

Was it him? Did you want it to be him?

Reluctantly, you reached out your hand to open the door.

Nobody was there.

You frowned and leaned forwards, poking your head out to glance around. The corridor was empty, completely empty. That was incredibly weird, did you imagine those knocks? You sighed softly - perhaps you were a little disapppointed. Turning around, you shut the door, only to be faced with Ben sat sloppily in a chair with a face like thunder.

"Waitin' for someone?" He asked with a flat tone, his head lazily cocked to one side, still clearly drunk.

"What?"

"You know what I'm talkin' abou', Y/N." Ben said with the same tone, standing up, albeit unsteadily. You swallowed as he inched closer towards you, dragging his feet, your toes burying themselves against the hard wooden floor beneath your feet. "I know about the notes you kept. From him." He spat, pointing his finger at your face. Your heart instantly began to gallop; the pounding of its beats echoed in your ears like a harrowing scream in the night.

The notes...

"Excuse me?" You choked out, brows furrowing together in complete shock.

This was not how you wanted this to go down.

"I went through yer little drawers. In yer greenhouse," Ben scowled, his nose turning upwards in what you could only describe as disgust. "All of his little notes were perfectly preserved, and mine? Well-" Your mind was running so quickly that you could barely even listen to what he was saying - the fact that he went behind your back and invaded your privacy was the only thing sticking out to you as of right now. Your skin felt like it was on fire as the anger began to flood your veins.

"You went through my drawers, Ben?!" You yelled, shoving a finger in his face.

"That's the only thing you care abou'?! Not the fact that you secretly- obviously, have some sort of fucked up... thing for a man who treats people like they're the tiniest bit of shit on 'is shoe?!" Ben screamed back drunkenly as he bared his teeth, stomping towards you and smacking your finger away. "The fuck is wrong withya?"

You knew this could get ugly quite quickly, especially as Ben was drunk - a lot drunker than you. But at this moment, your anger was far too hot to even think about cooling things down.

You scoffed at him, your lips twitching upwards into a disgusted sneer. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Going through my stuff?!" You shouted at him, taking a step backwards as he began to get a little too close for comfort. "That's not okay, Ben!"

"How long has it been going on?" Ben asked, his tone suddenly calm. That put you on edge.

You paused for a moment, pondering on his question. It was probably best that you didn't answer that. "We're done here, Ben." You clenched your jaw, silently readying yourself for some sort of explosion.

"How long, Y/N?!" Ben yelled. The way the whites of his eyes were basically screaming at you made you feel terrified. In this current moment, there was only one pair of arms that you wish you were being held in. The man in front of you backed you up to the door, and you could only stare at him, for your wand was foolishly placed inside the pockets of your robes hung in your bedroom. Tears burned in your eyes as the guilt you'd tucked away was finally waking up and holding your body hostage with it's incredibly heavy weight. "Did you fuck 'im? Is that why ya never slept wit'me for months? Because you were too ...busy being his fucktoy?" Ben slurred, his face red and lips wet with saliva from how he'd been shouting.

"Shut up!" You cried at Ben as the tears began to break free from you and run down your cheeks like melting diamonds. This was so not the way you wanted this to go. "Please, just stop!" You were sobbing at this point as his words pierced your heart, quickly reminding you of what Severus truly thought of you.

"Oh, fuck sake, stop with the cryin'," Ben growled, drunkenly shoving a hand into your shoulder, sending you barreling backwards and into the door. You winced slightly as the bone of your shoulder blade made contact with the metal bar on your door. "Whiny bitch, yer the one in the wrong, not me!" He grumbled with a heavy sigh, turning away from you.

"Shit, Ben-" You gasped as you leaned forwards and pushed yourself off of the door, however, a sharp and excruciating pain shot across your shoulder as you tried to move it. "What the hell were you thinking?!" You whined, stumbling to the countertops of your kitchenette to lean on it. Your shoulder was fucking killing you.

"Me? What was I fuckin' thinkin'?!" A sarcastic, manic laugh fell from his lips and immediately you regretted your choice of words. The man spun on his heel, and suddenly he donned a wand in his hand. Now, you were scared for your life. "You're one to talk... you know what... I'm going to have you fired... yeah... blacklisted. From every job in this fuckin' area! That'll teach you to be a whore!" Ben screamed the last word so loudly that you were sure every sleeping student and teacher heard it. Your jaw ticked, and you had to look away, your face painted an embarrassed shade of scarlet.

Your heart dropped at his words. No way was this happening.

"You can't do that." You whispered, tears still streaming from your eyes as you stared at the ground.

"I work at the Ministry, darlin', anything is possible."

"Fuck you."

"What did you just say t'me?"

"Fuck you!" You cried out hoarsely with one hand on your shoulder and the other gripping the countertop. An animalistic like growl fell from your ex-boyfriend as he stormed towards you, fury burning bright in his eyes. He raised his wand, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for some sort of spell to hit you.

"Stupefy!" A familiar voice commanded, the swish of a spell following it suit. Then, a loud thud.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes to see Ben laying on the floor, unconscious in a pool of his own saliva. Your chest heaved with fear, and you were incredibly scared to look up to see who had come to your rescue. Frozen, you stood still in your place, though you could feel your knees beginning to buckle. Within seconds you were on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, your lungs on fire from how harshly you were breathing. Merlin, you could've just died.

uh oh.. who saved her?

i'm sorry if you weren't tagged, i went through the majority of my notes and tried to find you all!! pls forgive me :( there was a lot due to my absence <3

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123 notes · View notes

loving-azerath · 7 months

Note

I live for feral Keegan. He comes back from a dangerous mission, adrenaline still running high and he comes straight back to find you and fuck out all the excess energy 🤯🤯

Keegan literally can make my stomach do the acrobatic routine that got Dick Greyson's parents killed alright?

CW: Dub/Con (if you stretch for it), rough sex, praise, degrading, spit play, choking, Keegan being feral. (I will add Aftercare as always because I think its important if you don't wanna read the after care it will be under an asterisk

Female reader

You hate when Keegan goes undercover. He would be gone for an undisclosed amount of time and you never knew when he was coming back. Sometimes he would get enough time to himself to call you. Tell you what he could but it wasn't often.

You were not a stranger to the dangers of the mission being a solider yourself. Though in a different unit. However, it only made it worse for you. You knew how dangerous so you knew how easy it was for him to not come home.

He always did though. Sometimes his mood would vary. Times where he lost someone he would lock himself away in his office or shut down for a week or two until he was ready to talk about it. You were always so patient with him.

Times he would come home after a failed mission he would mope around for a couple days before getting back into things. You would always remind him that he couldn't win them all. Tell him it wasn't his fault even if when he told you the story you knew it was. He didn't need it from you . Not you.

Then there was the times he came home from missions he succeeded one. The dangerous ones that made his skin feel like it was electric. You knew the feeling all too well. You knew how hard it was to come down from after.

This was one of those times.

You didn't know he would be home. You spent the day texting his turned off phone. You knew it was turned off for his safety but you also knew when he turned it back on he likes to read your texts like a story. You always texted him about your day while he was gone. This time though, you texted him more than that. You had sent him a couple of suggestive photos. Even one from your memories of his thumb in your mouth with a cock drunk expression in your eyes. You were too busy doing your before shower routine. Smoking a blunt to help you sleep without him, you didn't see your messages get the small little "delivered" message under your texts.

The water in this apartment always took so long to get hot so you turned on the water, blasting your music as you took off your robe hanging it on the door and look in the mirror. You looked over each imperfection you would pick out. Narrowing your eyes at them before seeing your reflect blur with the signal that the water is ready.

The water and your music being so loud you don't hear the door open. Keegan walking into the living room looking around at the small space for you. His phone gripping in his hand with an iron grip. His skin was still electric and he had so much energy he could run a marathon. He planned to. Not running though.

He hears your music and knows you are in the shower. Perfect for him, he needed to shower with the sweat and grime that he was coated in. He moves into the bedroom the smell of your shampoo filling the space. He strips himself of his uniform sighing as the heavy vest is moved off of his shoulders. As soon as his length is freed he groans. The constriction of his pants were killing him, it being made worse by your little photos.

You never bothered to lock the bathroom door when you were home. So he knew he could sneak it without you so much as hearing him. You were so blissfully unaware of his presence in your place. The weed making the water feel like heaven.

He opened the door quietly, closing it the same way. You had your eyes closed as you tilted your head back to allow the conditioner to rinse free. He slid into the shower with you, so close but not touching you yet. No he took time to run his eyes over your soaking figure. He was hooked on the look of you like this but he needed more. His body needed more to decompress. So he reaches forward grabbing your mouth and hooking an arm around your waist to pull you close. His lips moving to your collar.

"Don't scream...not yet...it's just me" He says, you had screamed against his hand briefly eyes widened at his sudden appearance in front of you. You were so stoned you had thought maybe you smoked a bit too much. "Fuck baby I missed you"

He drop his hand from your mouth kissing you. You moaned into his mouth at the sudden pressure. You had missed him so much you felt like just the kiss was enough to bring you to the mood. Your hands traveling to his hips. When you touch his inner hip he goes insane for it. Needy for it. He loved your hands there. He groaned at the pressure.

"Kee when did you get back?" You said when he finally permits you air. He comes out breathless and the sound of it makes his head spin. Fuck did he miss your voice. Miss the nickname he only allowed you to call him.

"Just now, couldn't wait. Need you now" He groans against your skin as he kisses down your neck and jawline. "Fuck I have so much energy. I might get rough"

You moaned at the thought. You fucking loved when he got rough.

"Safeword?" He asks, you knew what he was asking for

"Fanta"

"Good girl, you better use it if you need it." He says, you just nodded. He gestured to his body wash behind your head. "Grab that"

You do and he grabs it from you, tearing his hands off of you was hell and he didn't want to but he had to be clean. He needed to be clean for you. So he grabs your hand squeezing some of the heaven scented gel into your palm. Then moves your wrist to his length. You knew what he wanted. You pumped him like this was lotion and his groans made more heat pool in the bottom of your stomach.

He had done his best to clean the rest of him but your hand almost brought him to his edge too quickly and he forced you hand away effectively accidentally edging himself. He curses and you just look at him as he looks up to the ceiling in the feeling grimacing at his lack of release. He is all soapy and shiny and your high ass is about to melt. He shakes his head.

"Wait for me in the bedroom doll. You're too tempting" You smirked at yourself. Listening and leaving with a sneaky hang brushing his cock. He choked on a groan and fights the urge to pound you against the shower wall right now.

You dried off in the room, and within the next five minutes the water shuts off. Your music forgotten as he moves into the room. He doesn't hesitate grabbing you by the throat and slamming you hard on the bed. You gasped and fidgeted under him. He moves your legs apart with a knee placed between them. He tucked his knee against your core. The friction sending your high ass into heaven. He moves the knee back a millimeter to keep you from it.

"No no, not yet. Not yet. I need you to be my doll for a moment alright? Can you be a good girl for me?" He asks, you whimpered at his words. Internal screeching at how hot he sounds. His deep graveling voice pleading for you to be his fleshlight. You just nod and he leans forward capturing your lips. His kisses are always so sloppy during these times. You loved it. Feeling as his tongue dominates yours and your mouth. He moaned into your mouth at the feeling.

He lifts you off the bed by your throat still moving you in front of the mirrored closet door. Placing you on your knees. His thumb brushing against your lips. You smirk and recreate the photo. Sticking his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it. maintaining eye contact while his blue eyes soak in the sight.

"Fuck doll" He whispered as his thumb leaves your lips. He grabs a hand into your wet and unbrushed hair using his others to guide is member to your lips. Keegan did not have what one would call husband dick. What is husband dick? 5-6 inches. What did Keegan have? A much bigger dick. Summer fling dick. 8 inches and girthy. He knew how to use it too and that was a deadly combination.

So when you open your mouth and he pushes himself all the way back into your throat there is a lot of him to take in. You struggled against the intrusion in your throat and he just moaned. Whined almost at the pleasure.

"That's it baby. Breathe through it out through the nose baby" He sighs he pulls you up for air and you gasp it but he uses it as an opening to slam you back down. Your hand hovers over his thigh. Three taps and he stops thats all you need to do if it becomes too much. You don't use it, but you prepare in case. He begins to fuck your throat at a punishing pace for himself.

He wanted nothing more than to rutt into your pretty mouth with no regard but he couldn't. His care for your comfort still takes over even the worst of thoughts.

You had saliva dripping down your chin and onto your chest and your wetness between your legs was dripping down to your thighs. Every thrust and curse leaving you more and more dripping.

"Look at me" He tells you, you do and he groans making eye contact with you as he thrusts into you. "Fuck you look like such a whore like this. I fucking love when you look like a little whore"

Finally he pulls out of your throat, leaving saliva dropping down your chin again. He swipes it with his thumb and then grabs your chin roughly getting you to your feet as he basically manhandles you to the bed. Your knees hitting the edge and you tip over. A hand on your chest has you pushed into the bed laying down. He looks over your body like this.

"You are so fucking hot" He whines as he moves in his fingers moving to your core and running a gentle finger through your folds. You buck your hips towards him and he laughs. Laughs "Look at you being a bad doll. Dolls don't get to be needy."

"Kee please...I've missed you" You groaned, the weed making you so fucking sensitive that it was torture to be teased in any capacity. He doesn't move his hand from your face. He slides the tip of himself through your folds you whined at the pleasure rolling your eyes at it.

"Ooh baby, you missed me?" he coos teasing you further you nodded and tried to buck your hips to him but he shakes his had. "I don't fucking care doll. Sit still and take it"

His hand moves from your face, down to your throat keeping you in place as he slides through your wet folds. The friction makes your head spin. Soft whimpers falling from your lips which he breathes in like it's air. He is panting and whimpering in his own way at the feeling of your slickness against him. He can't handle it anymore getting further onto the bed releasing you but only for a moment.

"Bend over on the bed. Face the mirror" He demands, you are panting and needy and you listen far too quickly. Sober you would be begging for a little pushback. Tease him. Banter. Anything. Not this time, you just wanted to be fucked. He get behind you watching himself in the mirror, watching your anticipation on your face and it seems to make it worse. He needed you more than he needed air.

He places himself at your entrance and wastes no more time shoving into you. Slamming into you until his hips rests against your ass. The moan that escapes your lips is so lewd that he wishes he had recorded it. He wanted that moan imprinted on his fucking skull.

"Shit Doll, you like it when I shove into you like that don't you?" He asks "What a fucking whore. To like it like this."

"Please move, I need it" You whine

"Dolls don't get to talk" He tells you "Unless it's my fucking name don't say shit"

He shoves a thrust into you making you yelp at the pleasure. Your brain is fuzzy from the weed and the pleasure. You white knuckle the sheets in front of you. His pace picks up, slamming into you like it is all you are there for. The sound of your bodies slapping together and the squashing sound from your slickness. It almost is louder than your panting moans.

"Shit Dollface you feel so fucking good" He groan punctuating the words with hard thrusts he reaches forward grabbing your hair and forcing your head up. "Look at how good you look getting fucked like this"

"Keegan" You moaned which makes his eyes practically roll out of his head.

"Fuck say it again"

"Keegan" You whine

"Just like that Doll. Fuck you feel so good. I missed this tight pussy so fucking much" He growls as he slams harder into you. His other hand moving to your hips calloused fingers digging hard into your hip. "Tell me how much you missed my cock"

"So fucking much kee" You answer, too fast which makes him laugh aggressively pulling you flush against his chest by your hair, ignoring your yelp and sharp exhale. His hand on your hip moving to cup one of your breasts. Moving your hardened nub between his fingers.

"Open that fucking pretty mouth Doll" He orders, you do "Stick out that tongue"

You do that too He spits in your mouth, and groans as he watches you face.

"Fuck you're such a whore. Look at you." He says forcing your head back to the mirror. You take in your cock drunk appearance, far too high and dumb from his dick to focus on your imperfections. Just how lewd and pornographic the scene is. He is thrusting into you so hard and at a punishing pace that leaves you panting harshly. "Look at how well you take this fucking cock Doll. How well do you take it tell me"

"Keegan" You whined not knowing how the fuck you were supposed to reply. You couldn't form a single intelligent thought if you tried. How the fuck were you supposed to reply to that. He shakes his head yanking on your hair again spitting in your mouth again.

"Answer the question. How well do you take my fucking fat cock?" He asks

The whimpers coming from your lips turn into mewls as you attempt to figure out an answer for him. Growing impatient he shoves you back into the bed, pressing your face into the mattress as he picks up his pace. His hand moving to the base of your neck to keep you firmly on the bed but allow you to breathe. His thrusts become erratic and uneven and his moaning turning further into whimpers and groans.

He reaches under you with his other hand ribbing circles into your clit which ignored before so rudely. The waves of warmth and pleasure that radiate through you could have melted the artic. Tightening that ball of tension in your core that threatens your release.

"Fuck you perfect fucking doll. I need you to cum all over me. Come on be a good girl for me. Cum on me" He tells you "You are so fucking perfect you fucking whore. Cum on me"

The stars you see ripping through your vision as your orgasm shatters you remain even as the orgasm passes. They remain in your vision as you clench around him. Tightening further which makes him curse under his breath. Pulling him so close to the release he's needed for months. The release he denied himself in the shower.

"Good fucking girl. Good fucking doll." He grinds out, punctuating the words once again with his hard thrusts. He doesn't last much longer "The answer is so fucking well. You take this dick so fucking well"

The sensitivity in your clit ignites further, unsure on the cause. Weed, his words, his finger still messily slipping around your soaked folds as he fucks you so hard you can't think. You don' t know but you feel yourself building again.

"Kee, cumming" you announce and scream his name and profanities into the mattress. He moans feeling your walls clench around him again. Throwing him off his cliff and his orgasm is so intense that he forgets he still has you in his grasp. Not really forgets but forgets that you are a person for a moment

"Oh fuck" He grinds out through it, his hand on your folds moving to your hips and shoving them into the bed into bone prone as he pushes into you his grasp bruising and hard "Oh fuck Fuck"

He fills you, so much escapes into you from the months he has spent without. His energy depleted and his craving sated.

"Good girl"

**AfterCare**

When he pulls out of you and his mind comes down from it's high he realizes how rough he went near the end. He rolls you over onto your back checking your face for any signs of discomfort.

"You did so good for me. Was I too rough?" he asks you shake your head.

"I should tease you on missions more often" You say, he chuckles and then gets up grabbing a water from the minifridge in the corner. Put in for this reason. He hands you a water with no words. You know to drink it. He walks to the dresser to grab himself boxers and you a pair of his shorts. He stops when he see's the blunt's butt and the lighter he looks back at you. Guilt sweeping through him.

"Are you stoned right now?" He asks you freeze and nod slowly. "Baby I wouldn't have if I-"

"I'm fine Kee, I liked it" you say with a giggle he doesn't like it still he sets the shorts beside you helping you clean up the mess he made of you. Lightly kissing you everywhere he can. Every bruise he could see you would have he kissed pressing an ice back from the fridge against it. Whispering how good you did. How beautiful you looked. How precious you were to him Praising you more than usual because he felt bad. You didn't. You were so utterly fucked you knew you would think about it forever. Those sex flashbacks were going to hit different.

#i need it #pleasekillme #kinktober #keeganxreader #Keegan is so 8 inch coded and I am not sorry #can he spit in my mouth please #keegan fucks #Keegan smut #keegan p russ #Cod keegan #this is smut I wrote while listening to mormon church hymns #I only put that last one to see if anyone looks at my tags lmao #COD SMUT #Keegan is kind of filthy low key #high sex is the best sex and I dont wanna hear no fucking back talk

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silverbladexyz · 4 months

Text

Blue Skies, Tainted Sorrow

TW: Mentions of death. Stormbringer spoilers below!

The Yokohama sky was an exceptionally sorrowful blue.

Normally, the colour blue was associated with stability and harmony, granting a sense of tranquil peace wherever it descended. Favoured in the eyes of many, outshining numerous other shades- with such positive attributes, it was almost laughable, really, how it was also the epitome of sorrow.

But on this particular day, sorrow was the perfect reflection of the sky.

Chuuya sat, unmoving, on a particular protrusion of the building; his vacant eyes staring at the endless expansion of blue stretched out above him.

Calls that were sent to him were left unanswered on his phone, whether it was from you or from the supercomputer Adam that was assisting Chuuya in this case.

You understood your friend all too well to know what he was thinking.

"The hell is he doing?"

Shirase's impatient voice cut through the silence, and you turned your gaze towards him, glaring slightly. Despite all his proclamations about being the future 'King' of the disbanded organisation called the Sheep, he couldn't read the room to save his life, and was a coward in times of true danger. Talk about being a king of foolishness instead.

"I imagine he doesn't want to talk to anybody right now," Adam replied, as he looked up at the motionless teenager. You frowned slightly, glancing back towards the figure sitting on the building. Even though the latter could put on such a convincing act that could fool Dazai himself, anybody could tell that Chuuya was suffering in remorse and self-blame.

You didn't want him to suffer anymore.

"... Please excuse me."

Activating your ability, you teleported right to the same ledge that your friend was situated on, trying not to slip off the uneven surface.

If Chuuya heard you, he gave no sign of acknowledging your presence.

Taking a small breath, you tried to relax yourself as you slowly approached the teenager, speaking in a soft voice.

"... Hey. I just wanted to check up on you. You've been up here for a few hours, and I was starting to get worried."

There was no reply, but you waited patiently, not wanting to overstep his boundaries.

"... I'm fine. There's no need for you to concern yourself over me."

It was an usual curt answer that you'd expected to hear from him. You knew that he was like this because he wanted to solely shoulder the guilt of their deaths on his shoulders.

But you weren't going to let him go this easily.

"... This is about the detective, isn't it? And the Flags, as well-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Chuuya had already shot up and faced you, gritting his teeth as he glared silently. You only stared back at him calmly.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"..." He stared off in another direction for a while, before his gaze returned to you again. But instead of anger, there was only a vacant emptiness in his eyes.

"The Flags and Detective-san all died because of me. I'm the one responsible for their deaths. And I have to be the one to stop Verlaine so that there won't be anyone else who end up with the same fate as them."

You stared at him silently, before opening your mouth to speak.

"'You're the one responsible for their deaths'... is that truly all you believe in?"

Chuuya stiffened, and you continued before he could get a chance to rebut.

"You were not the one who murdered them. Verlaine did, in order to 'set you free'. But he doesn't want to force you to come with him, because it'd be going against your own freedom of choice. Instead... he wants you to blame yourself for their deaths. To feel guilty about those lives that he cut away. And make you approach him of your own accord, so that-"

"But Verlaine killed them because he knew I wouldn't leave the Mafia. Even if I wasn't the one who performed the physical act, I'm still the sole reason why they're dead! Can't you see? None of this would have happened if I had just gone with him that time."

The sorrow was evident within him, even as he resorted to his usual angry façade.

"... It is agony. I feel it too. But," you tentatively placed a hand on Chuuya's shoulder, feeling his muscles tense up underneath your touch.

"Just as Mori-san had said, the dead feel no emotion. Things such as revenge and guilt are for the living. However, blaming yourself for their deaths is going to get you nowhere. It hurts, but it is only through this hurt that you can remember who you are fighting for. And please remember that you are not alone. I'll be here for you, and you can rely on me whenever you need me."

"..." Chuuya looked down towards the ground, his body starting to turn away, but you weren't finished yet.

His eyes widened as he felt your arms encircling around him.

Chuuya's instant reflex was to flinch and back away, but you merely tightened your hold on him. His hands lay by his side, but your warmth encouraged him to relax into the hug. It was slightly awkward, as the two of you weren't too well-versed in platonic affections, but that didn't matter in this moment.

"I know that it's been hard for you. I know that it isn't easy to keep on fighting when you have struggles of your own. But I just wanted to tell you... that you'll always be a human in my eyes. And that will never change."

The silence that followed was deafening- and with that, you felt a twinge of panic in you.

Did you happen to say something that upset him? You always knew how Chuuya felt about his humanity, but you never knew how he would react if someone believed that he was human. Your grip around him started to loosen slightly.

Only for two strong arms to hug you back, alongside a face being buried into your shoulder.

It was the first time you ever felt him smile.

Hopefully this did justice to Stormbringer!Chuuya ❣

@circinuus @riiwrites @sariel626 @ruanais @kolyakisses @chocsra @oldworldpoolhall @chunshiya @yuugen-benni

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idcbabyialreadylostmymind · 1 year

Text

Lily of the Valley

Pairing- Tsu'tey x darkfey!reader

Summary- After Tsu'tey injured you in the forest he finds you again and over time after many hangouts he develops feelings.

Request-yes

Tsu'tey crouches behind a tree watching as a strange creature he has never seen before sits in the forest. From where he was all he could see was wings and a pair of horns, his eyes squinted as he pulled his bow back ready to let the arrow free. His fingertips gripped the string once more before he let it go, and then he heard a shriek you turned around touching where the arrow just gashed. His eyes flattened and eyes widened, you weren't an animal creature maybe but an animal never.

Tsu'tey comes from behind the tree and sits the bow down under some leaves. The rustle of the leaves made your body turn around and your eyes widen seeing the person who just injured your wing. You were frightened it was obvious and before he could speak you were up into the air pushing through the pain in your right wing. And he was left crouching on the ground shocked at what he just saw.

The warrior in him told him to go tell the other warriors to track you, maybe even kill you, but there was a strange feeling, a voice that told him to go back and don't tell anyone to wait for you. And he did. He went back to his home and didn't utter a single word about you to anyone. It ate at him, you weren't human though you looked like one, but you weren't wearing one of those masks they need to breathe, and you definitely weren't Na'vi you had wings and horns but you were beautiful.

It had been a few days since the incident and all that was on his mind was you, even when he closed his eyes all he saw was you, the faint vision of your face and all he heard was the flapping of your wings. So for clarity he went out into the forest he walked his way through the steps he took that day. And then he crouched under the very tree he shot from. And then, he saw you.

You lay on the soft green grass, wings and hair sprayed out everywhere, your skin seemed to glisten in the sun as the light reflected it, you had what seemed to be a tight brown dress made of wool that looked perfect on you. And your horns grew from your head; they were black and pointy that twisted upward. He blinked a few times to make sure his eyes didn't deceive him, they weren't. He dipped under the tree branch leaving his arrow strapped to his back not to alarm you.

You hadn't noticed he was there until a leaf crunched him. He silently cursed himself once he saw you shift upward and your eyes widened at the man in front of you. He looked different than yourself, he was blue, stripes along his body, braids, and barely any others on. You shuffled to your feet backing from him. And just as you thought he was going to attack you he put his hands up, mostly because he didn't want to scare you away once more. "I mean no harm." He spoke he didn't know if you knew what he was saying but he hoped.

It was silent as you observed him, before you lifted your right wing, "Then why shoot." You question and his face twists. "I thought you were an animal but now I see you are not you just-" he was cut off. "You thought I was an animal because of how I looked and your first thought was to shoot me, do they not teach you any decency where you come from or is that just you?" You ask him a little mad he shot you. You were right, he shot you without a second thought and that wasn't right.

He brought his hands to his chest, "I am sorry."

You take a deep breath looking him up and down before puffing your chest out and nodding your head. Sitting down at the previous spot you occupied he took this as a notion for him to sit as well.

Once again it was silent. "Name?" Was the only thing you said, first he was confused and then it clicked. "My name is Tsu'tey. Yours?" He asked after answering your question. "Y/N where are you from?" You asked him as a butterfly-like creature landed on you. "I am from the Omaticaya clan." Your eyebrows furrow from his answer. "Where?" You asked once more and he was bewildered at your question. "We once lived in hometree but demons from the sky came and burned it down and now we live in the Hallelujah Mountains." He answered more thoroughly.

"Ah the mountains, it is quite beautiful up there." You say moving the bug from your finger into your palm. "And you? Where are you from?" He asked you and you blew on the bug making it fly away. "Everywhere, I do not have a set home and will probably never." You answer but this confused him more, where was your family? Did you not have one? You saw his confusion and it made you giggle a little bit as if you read his mind.

"I had a family once, when I was very little but one day these people in big machines came and shot my father and then my mother cut their wings off right in front of me and now I live everywhere." You say pointing around the forest but your voice is laced with sadness.

"Sky demons." He said jaw clenching because he knows exactly what it's like to date someone to the demons.

You look at him confused about what demons he talked of.

"Sky demons killed your family." He said even talk of these demons made him angry. You only shake your head as you close your eyes laying in the sun on the grass once more. He stared at you in awe, you had no hint of anger in your face, none of sadness either you were just there being.

You two didn't talk, but he felt like he didn't need to. "Would you like to come back? I am here all the time." You ask him and his ears perk up. "Yes I would like that." And when he left his curiosity was at its peak.

When he entered the mountain he ran past all the people greeting him and immediately went to Mo'at. Tsahik sat down at a table teaching her granddaughter Kiri. She looked up as the warrior busted into her tent. "Ah Tsu'tey have you been injured Kiri what do we do about deep cuts caused by- " being cut off by him he would never normally do this but curiosity got the best of him.

"Actually Mo'at I was wondering if you could help me figure the name out of a certain creature." He began and Mo'at squinted her eyes at the male who had just cut her off, but she shook her head patting the spot next to her. "Kiri can help." She said not giving him time to ask her to leave. "What does the creature look like?" Kiri asked.

"Um they look like sky demons," he began and Mo'at was taken back. "But they do not need those masks to breathe, they are almost our height, just a little shorter, and they have wings, huge wings they use to fly, and horns that come from their hair, and they are beautiful." He remembered every detail of you, every mark of your horns, every feather of your wings, everything.

Kiri looked at her grandmother in confusion, "I haven't heard of any creature like th-"

"Shush child Tsu'tey is talking of a Dark Fey, they were beautiful, graceful but can be dangerous but that is to only those who threaten." Mo'at told the two. But that word 'Were' stuck. "Are they extinct now?" Kiri asked and Tsu'tey straightened his back. This didn't go unnoticed by the older woman but she closed her mouth. "There is no telling but if one comes past us there is no missing that." She said, grabbing a few more herds from her medicine bag.

Tsu'tey stood up. "Thank you." He said tilting his head down, he stalked to his home. You were the last of your kind, and you were all alone.

Tsu'tey would come back to your spot everyday, and those days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months.

And soon he got you to open up to him as you got him to open up to you.

And everyday you spoke with each other, the closer he felt to you to your heart. But he didn't know if you felt the same.

You did, if not more. You felt it ever since you talked for the first time. You felt electrical when he would brush his hand along yours, or when you let him touch your wings for the first time.

It felt as if the stars aligned the first time he saw you. Maybe they did, maybe the great mother put you in his path for a reason, where to be his? He had so many questions as you talked about some adventure you took the other day.

You noticed he wasn't listening to you, you grabbed his tail giving it a tug. He hissed and you only scoffed. Your hand rested on his tail and he felt his body stiffen. "You were not listening." You say removing your hand from his tail finally he could breathe.

"I was listening." He exclaimed.

"Is that so?" You questioned getting up from the grass now shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Yes." He replied toying with some flowers on the ground.

"What did I say last?" He looks at you as you quirk a brow up towards him.

"See you were not listening." You say turning your head to look at the darkening sky. "What are you thinking about, oare." His mind went blank at the term of endearment, moon it meant saying it was because he was the moon to your sun. You had little knowledge of the feelings you caused and this did not help.

"I can not tell you." He says and you only laugh.

"What why?" You are confused on why he couldn't tell you this oh-so important secret.

"Because then you will see me differently, you will not like me anymore!" He declared loudly making you jump.

"No, Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyitan tell me now!" You said back just as loud.

This was the first time you've yelled at him. It took him back for a while. And the way you yelled his full name made him feel like he was being scolded by his mother for eating dessert early.

He looked at the ground and he was ashamed of himself, he couldn't tell you that he loves you, or could he.

"How about I tell you a secret I've been keeping and you tell me yours we can do it at the same time." You suggested and his eyes and tail perk up at your suggestion and he shakes his head in agreement. "Okay."

He turned his body as you did yours now he was staring into your eyes, he felt like his soul was sucked in as soon as he looked into your gorgeous eyes. "Okay after I say one we will blurt out what's on our minds okay." You explain and he shakes his head.

"Okay 3-2-1."

"I'm in love with you."

Your voices mix together as the words leave both of your mouths. Tsu'tey was taken back once more. You loved him?

You smile sitting up on your knees as he was doing. His eyes met yours once more and your smile brought a smile to his as he cupped your face rubbing your cheek before bringing your lips to his you stand on your knees meeting his sitting down height as he holds your waist. The kiss started off slow before it got faster, rougher. He pulled from the kiss first, he touched his kiss bruised lips had that really just happened.

He looks at you once more and your love blown pupils suck him in once more giving you a gentler kiss. You were the one to pull away this time tapping his chest giggling at his eagerness.

"Does this mean I am yours now?" You ask and he smiles cupping your face once more.

"That and so much more." He said.

#avatar 2 #avatar 2022 #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar way of water #tsu'tey x you #tsu'tey x y/n #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey #avatar x reader fluff #avatar x reader #avatar x y/n #avatar x you #avatar shit

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tojisun · 11 months

Text

‘til you found me

jake sully x metkayina!reader

!! follows atwow but also not canon-compliant; reader’s origins are not mentioned; fluff; jake calls reader baby girl 😔🤞🏼(i was projecting too hard); 1.7k words

: i watched atwow four times now oh my god im losing my mind bros, this is genuinely just to project my yearning – just jake taking reader for a ride on his ikran; the fic is not as polished but god it means sm to me so i hope you guys would love it too <33; psa - im still new to the lore n fandom so if i butchered the canonverse, pls do forgive me babes; title from lost at sea - lana

jake’sully tilts his head to the side, his lips tugging up in a smirk. your eyes flash to his fangs for a quick second, their perfect sharpness making your lungs constrict to the point that your lips almost parted to let out a gasp.

you look away just as fast, finding his hazel eyes again but jake’sully’s smirk has grown.

he has seen the way you looked at him.

“so? what’d you say i take you f’r a ride, baby girl?” he finally asks, his voice a rich baritone. his na’vi is still accented with his earthen dialect and there are times that your ears strain to try to understand what he is saying but right now, you know you would not like anything else.

“i’m not a babe,” you murmur, your tail whipping in agitation, reflecting the turbulence in your heart.

you know you sound petulant – just like a babe, you think to yourself – but there is a part of you that wants to prove to jake’sully that even without warrior’s blood coursing through your veins, there is still more to you than an inkling similarity to that of an unknowing infant. after all, eywa smiles upon you too.

jake’sully’s eyes crease, his smirk tilting a little and you see flash of apprehension in his eyes – hazel like the roots of marui – before he huffs, a sound that is quiet but fond.

“‘s not what i meant, kid,” he replies, his hands reaching to tangle with yours. you blink at the touch, watching the earthen fingers weaving with yours, still unused to the difference but not bothered by it at the same time.

“i just,” he continues when you do not reply. his voice strains like he is nervous, and you almost smile at the idea that the toruk makto is nervous because of you. “y’r just precious to me, ‘s all.”

you sniff, trying to quash the burning of your cheeks, afraid that he would see the flush racing from the tips of your ears to the centre of your nose. you turn away from him, looking at his ikran.

it is bigger than an ilu, the only ride you can mount, and it looks even more daunting than a tsurak. perhaps it is because a tsurak is still of the waters but an ikran is something so foreign; it is a beast that governs the sky – a prey and, occasionally, an ally of the toruk. there is no reason for a metkayina weaver to mount such creature.

yet here jake’sully is, coaxing you on its back.

perhaps all the breathing exercises have finally got to him.

he laughs when you murmur this to him, his head falling back as explosive laughter booms from his lips. his beautiful lips.

“precious one, indeed.” his eyes are crinkling in delight again and you have truly never seen anything as breathtaking.

there is so much of the forest in jake’sully. it is not only his arms or his tail that portray this, but it is the way he walks: the sureness in his stride like there is no other purpose for his feet other than walking. moving.

it is in the way he hunts: how he is poised on a higher ground, even when mounting his tsurak, listening to his surroundings, before going for the kill. he does not use nets, just his spear or his dagger, and yet he always seemed to claim the biggest fish in the reef.

it is in the way he talks: his words clipped and short, barked out orders that would have been insignificant when in water. he talks like he is afraid that his voice would be lost amidst the chirps of the birds or the rustles of the leaves instead of resonating amongst the people.

it is in the way he uses his hands: closed palms instead of flatly opened, the way it normally is in your clan. all he has known is how to grab and how to yank, but he is learning how to wade. and he is so good at it.

jake’sully is alien even without his demon blood. and yet you cannot help but gravitate towards him, always responding to his call with your own, letting yourself be part of his family.

(“she would have fought you,” jake’sully whispered one evening, his bigger body submerged in the waters, his head resting between your thighs as you worked on his hair and braided them into neat strands.

i know, you wanted to say. she would’ve won the fight before i could even move.

i know, you wanted to say. and maybe then you wouldn’t look at me.

there are so much you wanted to say but you remained silent, letting the gliding waters fill the silence between you, your trembling fingers working slowly to finish the braids.)

“i think i would like to ride him, if that is okay with you, jake’sully?” you tell him, tugging at his hand as you spoke.

“just ‘jake’, baby girl,” he replies as he smiles again. “and of course. i promise you: y’would love the sky.”

you nod, not knowing what is the right thing to say as you mull over his name, earthen by origin but something that is so fitting for the forest warrior.

jake lets go of your hand to pull at his braid and make tsaheylu with his ikran. you watch from your peripheral, making sure that you would not look at the ikran’s eyes. your ears flick as it makes clicking sounds in response to their formed connection before you hear jake replying to it with soft whispers, his voice curling into something that is gentle.

you smile to yourself, feeling warmth exploding in your belly at hearing this side of jake. you are sure that there are only few of your clan’s people who know of jake’s gentleness – they are still too used to only seeing him as his history. the man that he was in the past.

but you understand why.

he may not be olo'eyktan in awa'atlu with the metkayina, but that is not something that just goes away because of formalities. jake commandeers respect even amongst your people, his words and his actions garner awe and produce inspiration.

he is also good to the eyes.

you remember the women in your clan giggling to themselves, envisioning how it’d be like to be with the toruk makto, and fanning themselves when the topic became too sensual. too physical. their voices always petered out into wistful sighs, unable to contain their desires even when jake had been dubbed demon-blood by the tsahik.

it is not like you can fault them, not when you had been one of the many admirers of jake. you just didn’t expect the toruk makto, the former olo'eyktan of omotikaya and the warrior that led the clans to victory against the sky people, to give you his attention.

“come, baby girl,” jake says, yipping to catch your attention. you blink your eyes at him, turning, before you startle at seeing his ikran looking at you, its head tilted to the side – a perfect mirror of jake’s mannerism. “ride with me.”

he offers you his hand and you have barely twined your fingers with his before he is pulling you up, your body going weightless at the sheer strength of toruk makto’s.

you squeak, startling, and jake laughs at your reaction. even his ikran clicks in a tone that resembles laughter and you feel so embarrassed as you press your face onto jake’s back. his skin meets your soft cheeks and the contact has your breath hitching.

jake has always been tactile with you but there is something new today. perhaps it is the whistling winds or the weight of his hand on your thighs, keeping you from slipping off the ikran from where you are sat behind him. whatever it was, you are sure you heard jake’s stuttered breath.

it seems like you aren’t the only one overthinking everything or who is hyperaware of the contact. you smile, knowng that jake can feel your upturned lips from where they are pressed flush on his skin.

jake murmurs something too faint for you to hear before he clicks and the ikran soars.

oh great mother, you think as the wind whirls past you, your braids pushing away from your body as the ikran flies. jake laughs, so joyful that you feel your stomach twisting, coaxing you to stop shrieking and to look up from where you are still pressed on his back.

you want to snap at him and tell him to shut up but you know he is only being nice, after all, jake just wants to show you how the world looks from the sky. so you control your breathing, calming your heart, before you pull away from jake’s body and tilted your head down.

oh how beautiful it is.

the waters stretch further than you expected, their colours changing to signify their depth. you notice the way the lush corals of the reef and the scattering in the thin forest of the island is shining, their lights flickering and dancing with life.

you are so overwhelmed by what you are seeing that you don’t even know you are crying, a sob creeping past your lips. jake startles, not having expected a visceral reaction from you, and you feel him change course, surely finding a place to land his ikran.

this tenderness of his brings more tears to spill from your eyes, your heart weighing in your chest so heavily that you are sure you will explode with it. you push your face on jake’s back again, your arms tightening around his waist, before you press a kiss on his skin.

“i see you, jake,” you say, unsure if your voice would carry to him even amidst the whipping wind.

you feel jake’s hand tighten around your thigh and that is all the confirmation you need.

then, “i see you, baby girl.”

@whats-belay, thank you for letting me use u as a soundboard throughout the four times ive watched atwow! hope you would love this, especially since it’s more coherent than my keyboard smash

#suns.f #jake sully x reader #jake sully x na'vi reader #jake sully x you #jake sully x y/n #jake sully fluff #jake sully fic #jake sully #avatar the way of water #atwow x you #suns #ONE FIC DOWN THE SEVEN OTHER FIC IDEAS TO GO #im so enamoured by this movie i need it injected in my bloodstream

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masivechaos · 9 months

Note

closedown - send a prompt/scenario + a character from the list above -> i'll write a short blurb!

could u do doing regulus black’s makeup? 🫶🫶

YOU DIDN’T KILL ME - regulus black x gn! reader [0.407k] .ೃ࿐

summary: regulus moves when you do his makeup

warnings: threatening to kill as a joke maybe (?)

navigation / masterlist / taglist

You didn’t have to spend as much time as you thought to convince Regulus to let you do his makeup. There was just something about the urge to put eyeliner under his sleepy eyes or gloss on his lips.

Regulus held your hips as you straddled his lap, holding his face with your hand while the other was gingerly applying the eyeliner on the outer corner of his right eye “Stop moving,” you chuckled.

Regulus huffed but still obeyed. You leaned back to look at him and you smiled, satisfied by your work. “Now I have to do the exact same wing on your other eye. If you move, I’ll kill you,” you said, trying to sound convincing.

At this, Regulus raised an eyebrow “You won't”

“I will, I swear.”

“Mmh” Regulus hummed with a smile on the corner of his lips. He watched amused as he saw your tongue poking out the corner of your mouth. You always did this when you were focused and he found it adorable even if he refused to admit it.

He tried his best not to move but when the brush hit a specific spot next to his eye, he couldn’t help but jolt, the eyeliner now ruined. “Reggie!” you groaned. It was perfect before he ruined it.

“Sorry,” he laughed but wasn’t really sorry because he loved to see the pouty look on your face.

When you had finally wiped the eyeliner, did it again and Regulus didn’t move, your smile widened. “You look so good!” you said enthusiastically and you could see the light blush on his cheeks. You handed him a mirror “Look at yourself!”

Regulus observed his reflection and he had to admit it, he loved it. “You did a good job,” he smiled at you “Can you smudge it? Like what you do with the eyeshadow.”

“Sure.”

He sat there a few more minutes as you worked and when you gave him the mirror again, his lips tugged into a smile “Thank you, love. I like it,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Also I was right,” he said.

“About what?”

“You didn’t kill me,” he said with a smirk.

Your eyebrows knitted together “Mentally I am.” You tried to be convincing but you looked more like an angry child.

He only had to kiss your lips to make the pout disappear “No, you are not. Now let me kiss you.”

⋆ ★ regulus black taglist: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @inkluvs @cauliflowertree @madison-rebel @moonlitmeeks @rhydianissuperior @loveeharrington @meredarling @jackys-stuff-blog @elenatries2write @juneberrie @f4iry-blush @gilmore-angel @heartfucks @songs4themoon @moondemon123 @mystic-writings @siriusblackstwin @natashxromanovf @unadulterated-syd @garfieldsladybird @starconfettii @percy-the-hufflepuff @fairydxll @spookydarkwitch @duxpuella @innerloverpainter @kieracassette @whennyxfallsinlove @venussflytraps @oncasette @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @widowbf @starlit-epiphany @rosalyn-s @etanordiesbullsh!t @sageskisses444 @luvmarsbars @jsjcue @mellozhi

#margot is writing! ੈ✩‧₊˚#margot's 1k event .ೃ࿐#closedown .ೃ࿐#the marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #young marauders #regulus black #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x reader

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thewulf · 10 months

Text

Authority Thing || Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Summary: Request - Hi can you write a request about Maverick x a shy pilot reader and make it fluffy. Like Maverick pulls reader out of her shell?

A/N: Kinda made this a shy pilot because she’s crushing on him not because she’s shy in general. Also turned out way more angsty than I was planning but it’s still super fluffy! Hope you still enjoy :)

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Y/N (2022 Version)

Word Count: 3.7k +

Edited again 3/11/24 after finding lots of issues - sorry!

He knew from the moment he spotted you in the back of the classroom on that very first day he was a goner. Physically, you were perfect. Your hair framed your face perfectly, your eyes reflected the sunshine in a way he’d never seen, your smile was truly infectious, you were perfect in all the right places.

Mentally, you were a challenge for him. You were shy. So quiet. He couldn’t seem to get through to you either. You were close. So damn close to taking that next step. But it’s like you were afraid. You were scared to fail. You were an exceptional pilot. Right on par with Hangman. You were good enough to block him out and take him down. You were able to prove that you were the best of the literal best. But something was stopping you.

You were never afraid to challenge your classmates. He got a kick out of it when you’d snap back at Hangman with the venom dripping in your voice. You were beyond intimidating when you needed to be. You didn’t need to talk shit because your flying proved how good you really were. You knew you were good. You knew you were great. You also knew your limits. You knew you needed to become exceptional. There was something more for you to give. You just had to find it first.

But Pete, Maverick, Mitchell? Maverick terrified you, in the best way. He was a legend. Literally never lost. Almost had five live air kills… you could go on and on about him. Ad to find out he was your instructor for the next six or so weeks? You knew you were toast. Absolute toast. Then you actually laid eyes on the Captain, and you wish you could’ve just exploded right there on the spot. He was handsome. So, fucking handsome. You locked eyes with him for only seconds on that first day of class before your turned away. You didn’t look back to him at all that class. Too terrified you’d make a damn fool of yourself.

So, you kept it short with him. Quick ‘Yes’s and No’s’. You’d often just take his corrections without fighting back. It confused him. You were so damn different with him than anybody else. You’d even warmed up to Cyclone, the Admiral for God’s sake. He saw you walking, talking, and laughing with him on your way to lunch one day. He didn’t have a clue as to why you were so shy around him. Why you’d rather run in the opposite direction than have to pass him in the hallway. It’d only been two weeks and it was driving him mad. He needed to talk with you. Was it something he did?

He would he decided. At the end of your next classroom session. One way or another he’d get some answers out of you. He needed to know if he did something wrong. It was gnawing at the back of his head.

“Birdie, if you don’t mind. Stay back for a second?” You looked at Bob who just shrugged, unsure of what your instructor could have wanted. You packed up slowly letting everybody trickle out before walking towards the front of the classroom.

Birdie. Your callsign. You had a love and hate relationship with it. You’d always joked that you felt like a bird in the sky when you were in training to become a pilot. Your friends promptly started calling you Birdie and it just stuck. You kind of wished you had a more fun story to tell other than the boring one of how you got your callsign. But alas, you didn’t. It was simple. Cute. Basic. Kind of like you. You’d never seen yourself as anything but ordinary. Just Y/N. Good at her job Y/N.

“Captain.” You let out a shaky breath. He made you nervous. So damn nervous. People of authority always did. And then he looked like that on top of it? Forget it. You were a goner. It wasn’t right to be thinking such unsavory thoughts about your damn instructor in your head. It made you act like a fucking weirdo in front of him. Case and point. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

“Good job up there today. Four for four.” You looked up from where you standing just quickly enough to see him staring right at you. Why’d he have to be so handsome? It was an unfair game that was suddenly being played against you.

“Thank you.” A small smile crept to your face hearing the compliment. It felt good. A small praise from the man giving you a small bit of confidence to look up to him but give him no more.

He nodded walking down to you, standing across from you. Your heart rate picked up quickly feeling his presence right there. Right in front of you. Oh, how you’ve avoided this situation masterfully. Now look where you were. Stuck alone in the classroom with him right there in front of you. What could possibly go wrong?

He waited until you looked at him to continue. He knew curiosity would get the better of you sooner or later. He was right. After thirty seconds of silence, you looked up.

He smiled seeing your doe-eyed expression. He shouldn’t feel this way about you. He shouldn’t want to brush the strand of hair that fell out of your bun away from your face. He shouldn’t want to run a hand along your back. He shouldn’t want to fucking kiss you senseless. But he wanted it. He wanted it all and more. So much more. What the hell was wrong with him? You were so young. So lively. Had so much to look forward too. Hell, you even had a shot of becoming an admiral if you had the drive to do it.

“Sir?” You asked, waiting on his question. His reason for holding you back.

He hummed delaying a second, “Everything alright?”

Nodding quickly your head turned up to him again, “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

He shrugged looking away for a moment. Giving you a second of reprieve from his gaze. Everything about the man was commanding. Everything, “No reason. You just seem to be a bit fidgety?”

What the hell was he going on about? You weren’t acting any different than you had been prior, “I do?” Of course, you were fucking fidgety. He was less than a foot from you not having a damn clue what he was doing to you. You could smell him. He smelled better than you imagined. Leather, oil, and cedar all mixed together. Way too good for a day instructing on base.

“Did I do something?” He spit it out. Well, it was out in the open now. It’s not like he could take it back. It sounded so terribly insecure when he spoke it out loud.

You shook your head, “No, not at all Captain.” Your heart started racing as he gave you a once over.

“Then what is it Lieutenant?” He asked with all the calmness in the world.

Your head was swimming. Swimming with thousands, millions of thoughts, “Sir?” Play dumb. That was always the easiest route to go.

“Why can’t you look me in the eye Y/N?” Why’d he have to use your name like that? It got your dumb hear racing faster than even you were used to.

Your eyes snapped to his. That was not the question you were expecting, “You… Authority makes me nervous.” You spoke quietly deciding to keep your eyes locked in on his. Not letting his statement completely reign true.

He grinned a wicked look before a much more innocent one came to face, you didn’t miss it though, “I make you nervous?”

You said nothing at first, nodding quickly in agreement instead, “Authority.” It was merely a whisper.

Mav’s face cracked into a simper while he studied your features, “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

You didn’t move your head, but your eyes moved to look to him, “I suppose that’s easier said than realized.” You admitted.

He stepped forward. Probably crossing a line, he shouldn’t have. But he couldn’t stand it. Why were you comfortable with everybody else but him, “What can I do then?”

You cocked your head to the side, “What do you mean Mav?” You asked so softly he thought his knees were going to buckle right then and there. You said his name so sweetly it took him off guard. He really should just let you go. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t be pressing you like this. He knew better than to. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to press on. Dig a little deeper. See you a little bit better. He was intrigued.

“Is there anything I can do to make you less nervous?”

You laughed softly. Get ugly? Stop looking like that? Stop being so hot in a flight suit? Stop being my flight instructor? “Afraid not Captain.” You sat back on the desk knowing this was likely not going to be over soon.

He took a seat next to you, “Why not?”

You shrugged, “It’s the authority thing. Call it trauma.” You joked.

He smiled along with you, “So, say I wasn’t your instructor…”

Cutting him off quickly you felt your blood run cold, “You’re not going to kick me off the squadron are you?” your panicked look made him feel awful

He shook his head quickly, “No, no never. It’s a hypothetical.”

You sighed softly, “Sorry.” You felt an overwhelming amount of embarrassment consume you. You’d worked so hard to get to where you are that even a little bit of an inkling of a threat sent you into overthinking mode. You weren’t proud of it by any means. It was something you were working on.

“It’s fine.” He smiled feeling your tension just radiate off your body. He seemed to pick up on anything relating to you. Again, he had to wonder. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Would you be as nervous around me if I wasn’t your instructor?” He quirked up a brow all too curious to hear your answer.

You laughed softly, “Yes, I would.” It was starting to become easier to talk to him. But he still intimidated the hell out of you. You hadn’t a clue how to navigate your superior being hot as hell. Normally they were old dudes who had kids your age. Not Maverick.

He huffed in almost frustration. He appreciated thar you were being honest with him, but he wasn’t sure what it was about him, “But why?”

You shrugged, “Still an authority, Captain.”

He placed a hand a little too close to yours, “You seemed just fine with Cyclone earlier.” He leaned in almost challenging you. He loved talking to you, but this conversation had gone of for too long now. Curiosity was literally killing the cat.

You nodded along with him, “Well yeah, that’s different.”

He looked at you incredulously, “How?”

It slipped out before you really meant to say it, “He’s married.” And then it was out there. It didn’t take Pete long to put two and two together. You were basically screaming that he was off limits and that Pete wasn’t. You didn’t mean to all but admit it but here you were. Heart hammering in your chest.

“I mean. He’s established. He’s not my direct authority. You know what I mean?” Even you didn’t know what you meant. You were caught red handed. Hand in the cookie jar. Damn. It is what it is now.

Mav shook his head with a lopsided grin, “I think I know exactly what you mean Y/N.” He also knew you’d never outright admit it either. He realized just how damn weird the whole thing was for you as well. He was your superior. You couldn’t cross that line either. Not unless you knew for sure that it was alright. The game the both of you were playing was dangerous. Very dangerous.

Thick tension hung in the air. You hadn’t a clue what to say to your instructor after accidentally telling him the real reason he made you so nervous. Not outright spilling the truth but putting making it rather obvious in your wake instead.

“I should get going.” You stood from the table you were sitting on.

He mimicked your actions, “Should you?”

Nodding your head you gave him a flash of a smile, “Yeah, long day tomorrow. You said so yourself. Right?” Raising your eyebrows, you knew you had him there.

His otherworldly smile lit up his face. God, he was so handsome. That just wasn’t fair.

“Right. Sleep well Y/N. See you in the morning.”

“You too Pete.” You weren’t sure why you used his first name, but it felt right. Felt like a step you wanted to take for yourself.

You didn’t catch the furious blush that rose to his cheeks at that. He knew he needed to pull back immediately, or he’d get himself, or you, in trouble. He couldn’t be blushing around Cyclone when you came around. He’d just have to ignore it. He could do that. Or so he thought he could.

Maverick must have gotten in your head. The next day was... less than stellar. You had a bad day. A very bad day. You landed without a single victory. With Rooster shooting you down for the second time that afternoon.

Sitting in the jet cockpit of the hangar you’d pulled your helmet off without much thought and just sat there. Thinking. You were fine yesterday. What the hell happened today? You’d been shot down five times. Twice by Hangman, twice by Rooster and once by Phoenix. You weren’t even close to shooting them down.

You were too eager with you grip making dumb rookie mistakes. Mistakes that’d have you shot down in an instant up in the air. All of them were able to see it and exploit it. A bad day. That’s all it was. It didn’t make you a bad pilot. Not in the slightest. You had to remember that. Drop today and remember how good you really were.

“Are you going to come down Lieutenant?” That voice broke you from the thoughts that were seemingly tormenting you in the cockpit. The ones that kept seeming to tell you that you weren’t good enough. You might’ve been the best at your home base but not here. No. You were average amongst the best.

Your eyes snapped open. Pete? What was he doing down there? He hardly came out here after training, “Yeah.” You answered quickly not wanting to leave him waiting. He wasn't one for patience, “Just thinking.” You knew you needed an excuse or he would press. No matter how lame it may be. But it wasn’t a lie. You really were just thinking.

He didn’t say a word as you came down the ladder. When you got a good look at him he almost looked, angry? His lips were drawn in a thin line. He had a hard time looking at you. Eyebrows stitched too close together for him to be in a good mood.

“What the hell was that?” His normally chipper tone had vanished. He sounded too much like an instructor now. He didn’t even sound like the Maverick you had gotten to know. No, a drill sergeant instead. He noticed your expression change as you realized this wasn’t going to be a fun conversation.

He felt bad doing such a 180 on you like that. But he had to, for your sake. Or so he thought.

“I’m not sure sir… I...” You stammered trying to come up with something. He’d already made you nervous and now this? You were a blubbering mess. Sure to look like the fool of a woman you knew they were likely expecting of you. See, the men could make mistakes. You couldn't. Women couldn't.

“Not a single kill today Lieutenant?” His voice stayed icy as you stood there forward like he was a drill Sargant. It suddenly felt like you were back in basic training all over again.

You looked down in what felt like shame, “No, Captain.” The voice that came out of you sounded weak. Likely because you felt weak. You didn’t feel like you were good enough to be here. Like all those kills you got against Hangman and Rooster prior to this day was just all just luck. Straight luck. Rationally, you knew better. You knew how good of pilot you were. You wouldn’t be good enough to get here. But your own mind was playing tricks on you. Planting seeds that should’ve never been dug.

He pressed further not seeing that he was beginning to push you past your breaking point. Further than even you would have expected from him. Your head was already coming down too hard on yourself. His words only seemed to dig that dagger in a little further that drove the final nail in the coffin of your confidence.

“What’s the problem then Lieutenant?” He stepped closer, challenging you. You weren’t in the right headspace for this. Not in the slightest.

You shook your head slowly, “I don’t know Mav.” Looking down at your boots you couldn’t bear to look up at his disappointed expression. You were just trying to hold back the tears at this point.

“You don’t know?” He sounded patronizing as if he was talking to a toddler.

“I…no.” Your voice was too shaky, so you stopped. Collect yourself. You could do this. You’ve done this hundreds of times before.

He must’ve not noticed the tears that were threatening to spill over as you looked up at him finally, “I can’t put somebody on a team who doesn't know what's going on. I need somebody who knows what they do wrong!" His voice grew from anger to frustration as he spoke. Yet he failed to see your utterly devastated gaze as he went on and on about things you had already known. Each word felt like a knife as he continued on, "You won't get a second chance on this mission. If you get shot down you're as good as dead."

Your heart ran cold, feeling as though it was shattering into a million pieces right then and there, “You don’t think I know that sir?” Your voice nearly broke as it wobbled through trying to finish the sentence.

He’d certainly noticed it then as his eyes finally found your tear stained cheeks. He usually knew how hard he could push. He could usually push you a whole lot harder, but he’d gone too far today. He knew when he heard that unusual waver in your voice.

He hadn't planned it but he knew he needed to back off, “It’s a bad day. It happens. Shake it off Birdie." The words come out of his mouth so fast he was sure you felt like you were getting whiplash from his hot and cold behavior. One moment he was nearly flirting with you then the next he scolding you.

He didn’t mean it. Not a bit of it. He didn’t even like being an asshole to Hangman, although it was fun sometimes. Being one to you made him feel awful. But he had to. He wasn't kidding when he said you didn't get second chances out there.

You shook your head, “I’ll do better tomorrow. I don’t know…”

He cut you off by placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. He hadn’t noticed how wound up about the day you had already been. He didn’t mean to push you further. He was just trying to be the instructor you needed to succeed on this mission that didn't have amazing outcomes.

This was the opposite of being tough on you though, “It’s fine Y/N. Go home. Read a book or watch some TV. Come back tomorrow. You’ll be just fine.”

You looked at his hand on his shoulder before looking at him, giving him a curt nod, “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You turned to walk away, brushing the tears away from your eyes.

Before you could walk through the locker room door you tuned back to him. After today you weren't sure if you even deserved the consideration,“You shouldn’t pick me.” You said so quiet you weren’t even sure if he heard it.

By the way he walked right over he must have. He grabbed your arm suddenly, not forcefully by any means, “Don’t say that. Why would you say that?” He genuinely felt awful for pushing too hard now. This didn't seem like you. You were headstrong. Stronger than even he seemed.

You looked down almost ashamed to admit it to him, “Because… because I’m not good enough sir. You saw me out there today. I'm as good as dead.” You were supposed to be the best of the best, but you hardly felt like it today. You were getting your ass handed to you left and right. Hangman was laying it on thick today too. He did that whenever he got the chance.

The day started bad when Rooster knocked you out almost immediately. And only got worse on subsequent runs. You were zero for four by the time you went up for the last round of the day. You got in your own damn head. It happened. It happened to everyone. You knew it. Still didn’t make it sting worse when you were on your thousandth pushup for the day.

He shook his head grabbing your hand quickly, “What are you talking about? You’re one of the best pilots I’ve ever worked with. You’re a fucking menace out there Y/N.”

You shook your head, “You’re just saying that because I’m about to cry.” You wanted to believe him. Maybe any other day you’d believe him. It was a no good, very bad day for you.

He only dropped his hand from your arm to bring it to your shoulder once again, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I’m not. I’m really not. Believe it or not.” He sighed collecting his thoughts once more, “I’m sorry. Really. I only come down hard on you because I know you can handle it. But I need you to not think like that. If you do get picked I need your head screwed all the way on. It’s not your run of the mill mission and you know that. You’ve got to be all the way there. All the way present. You hear me?”He asked.

You turned your head to look up to him, “Yeah. I hear you.” Your voice was much more you, more controlled.

He didn’t quite believe you though so he continued, “You are an exceptional pilot Y/N. The rest of the squad needs you to be. Bad days happen. Don’t let that asshole get to you.”

You smiled for the first time that day. It felt good talking with him. Actually, talking and not being afraid of him. A dramatic shift from that of moments ago, “You got it. Thanks Mav.” You wanted to thank him as a friend. Maybe a potential suitor. Not as a student. Not as a subordinate. But as a person.

He smiled for the first time that day as well. He had a long way yet to go with you, but it was a start. Something. He knew one thing that was sure. He was excited to get this damn mission over with. He didn’t want to be your superior anymore. He wanted to be your co-worker. The person you turned and laughed with whenever the most outrageous orders were given. He wanted to get there, was determined to get there.

“Sure thing, Y/N.” He let his hand fall, “See you at the Hard Deck tonight?” He asked curiously.

“You’re coming?” You’d seen him there the first night. You’d thought he was the most handsome thing in the bar. Hangman did not. Kept giving you shit for giving the ‘old man’ eyes. Whatever. You hadn’t seen him at the bar sense that night though. But he knew you guys went every Thursday. He listened.

“Maybe.”

You smiled once more, “You should. It’d be fun to see you kick Hangman’s ass in trivia.”

He laughed, a genuine one, one he hadn’t felt in quite some time, “How do you know I’m any good at trivia?”

You shrugged, “Have a feeling. Hope to see you tonight Pete.” The wink you sent him sent butterflies aflame throughout your body. Where in the hell did that confidence come from?

Pete legs went to jelly for a second as he watched you walk away. That you would. He was sure of it.

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onyourhyuck · 2 years

Text

One Thousand Desires. | L.HC (M)

prologue- “Sell your soul to me darling.” + “I can give you anything and everything you want, you just have to say the words.”

summary: there is a saying that you shouldn’t be walking the streets late at night on Halloween because a demon can latch itself on to you. But surely that’s just a myth, y/n believes. She is fearless and never gets scared. Until she meets a demonic entity in her house.

tw- demon fantasy romance. demon!haechan. smut. romance. fluff. enemies to lovers type of thing. dark content and language. blood mention. death mention. horror elements. graphic detail. erm yh read at your own warning. Unprotected. Boob play. Biblical themes.

notes- 😫 Kinktober fanfic!

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You stand still in front of your locked door, a fall of your sweat hits the ground and as did your legs giving up, you’re on the floor of your apartment. Pupils shrieking in multiple sizes from small to large, reflecting upon the terrifying red glowing ominous eyes right at you,

As if it was waiting for your move to make theirs. Starting to feel self conscious of everything your body did, the heart beating fast made your brain paranoid, your lungs suffocating with lack of oxygen as your anxiety took over with the massive amount of adrenaline in your veins.

The way this situation made no sense. You came back home alone, yet there stands a black floating figure with a large cloak covering its face. Long limbs latching forward crawling to just take a nip at you. The only thing you could see on the creature was their large dangerous eyes, watching you intensely.

Y/n’s nose becomes short ragged as your lips quaver open silently without a tone escaping, your nostrils flaring in adenoidal; speaking through your sounds out of the nostrils.

“What the hell are you…” You whisper, though it came out as almost silent air, the creature heard you crystal clear like a transparent gas in the air.

He cackles amused, stepping forward leisurely as he looks around the hallway where family portraits and photos, sometimes painting you’d hung up too, start to fall and shake down as if it was vibrating through him. The glass shatters causing you to flinch on the ground, crawling backwards immediately when he stops seeing you look so panicked.

“I am the genie.” He dramatically slurs. The massive cloak floating body of its crouched down to the perfect eye level, but he was still looking at you from above where you had to force yourself to look up at him. Like a sinner.

He sighs at your silence. “No scream? No words? Cat got your tongue?”

He questions, wondering if perhaps you were far too shocked to the point loss of words. Little did he know you were so terrified that perhaps you wished this was a dream that ended this instant. Never in your life have you experienced fear until now. This foreign feeling was both addicting with adrenaline as you felt like you were floating in between clouds, but at the same time you knew once this dangerous thrilling hormone in your body dies down.

You’re going to feel like the shittiest human on earth. You will live in denial, or, perhaps you’ll live in fear constantly as well paranoia.

You shake your head breathing heavily with pants. “This can’t be real. This is a dream. What the fuck is a genie.” You exclaim at once, explosively.

“I thought you’d never ask.” The deep mannerism voice said, would he take off the cloak to surpass the intense curiosity that gains your attention on the go.

Everyone would be just like you, expecting a deadly monster of some sort, like an abomination that was out of movies. A mutant with weird deforming facial structure, maybe something out of resident evil too. Green skin, or black skin representing the darkness. A high abnormal height like of creepypasta characters. No hair. Striking giant eyeballs ready to control you. And finally, a large carved deadly smile with cunning fangs to gnaw you to shreds, eat you alive, kill you, end your life within a minute or a second. But no. You were only answered with million other questions endlessly piling up when you saw the complete opposite of what you’d imagine the creature before you looks like, which ultimately makes you believe that you might be in fact dreaming but the more you pinch yourself it proven you to be wrong. This was in fact, all reality.

In front of you stands the most beautiful man you have ever laid your eyes on. Honey-like bronze skin melting like syrup, smooth as wood when sandpapered, his heart shaped jawline and mouth were this red apple colour, glossing brightly with dewiness as if he were a painting canvas. The way he had thick black hair , stylised in a mullet with mini curls peeking out; the creature looking so humanised, looks at you with a daunting expression and a smug-smirk, he saw the way your eyes light up in surprise and shock, soon sparkling stars enlighten. He knew himself he was out of this world.

But seeing the reactions of someone else never fails to boost his egotistical heart to beat alive once again.

“I am genie. The demon who will grant you thousands desires.”

The man bows his head as he stands up to you. He lifts himself back up awaiting your response. In which you blurt out,

“I thought genie was…meant to be in a lamp.” You carefully troath, the man let’s out a disappointing head shake and a compliant. Of course he was expecting a mortal to compare him to a fictional character that stole his title!

It hurt his pride and more or else, he would have to say he’s more handsome than a blue floating man from Egypt or whatever.

“How dare you compare me to that stupid fraud.” He coils, offering you an offended expression where he knits eyebrows together,

Glaring at you. Y/n puts her hands up in apologetically manner.

“What do you want from me.” You told and he scoffs turning away from you. The man walks around the house as freely as he wishes, making it his comfort in it. You felt outcasted in your own home, despite it being your property it was as if the foreign demonic entity was marking this place as his own.

The way your words lap to his direction makes him chuckle mentally, humans are always so scared and fragile. Anything to do with death becomes so unknown to them, scarring them from their own life. The genie could grant you immortality if you wish. He can grant anyone anything. All the man is, he is a preacher for the selfish. He hunts whoever feeds on greed and therefore in return he takes their soul. Call him a villain in this story, you wouldn’t be wrong but you wouldn’t be right either. If this was a movie set up, the man would be an morally grey character. He does no heroic actions nor does do any evil. Unless there is something in for him.

In the end his story is bitter and god has punished him. He once was just like you, like any other mortal residing on this forsaken realm. He went by the name Lee Donghyuck, a nickname substituting to Haechan for close friends. He was a rich son born to a wealthy man durning the 1600s. Though born with a silver spoon in his mouth only intensified his selfish greed that cost people lives upon lives. He was a murderer. He was the result of the seven deadly sins, greed. He broke religious commandments without a thought twice. Hence in the end when his life came to a sore bitter stop, god has made him a demon. There was no way the man up there was letting him off that easy with a first class ticket to hell. Where all the problems he has caused on earth has deputised chaos, the price became himself.

Now he has to hunt people. Lure them with an exquisiteness charm. Conning humans to sell their souls to him. If he fails to get them a day, God made sure to make it clear that he shall perish into ashes.

Donghyuck turns on the heels of his black leather boats, swiftly shifting his back away where he faces you, sending a carving charming grin at your helpless soft innocent looking face.

“Sell your soul to me darling.” He advised, not like you had a choice. donghyuck is a man of his words and when he wants something; he will get it, no matter what.

Though the maddening words sent the outmost terrifying terror in your body, your heart was surprisingly the most calm organ in your system. The lungs felt like a large concrete wall was pushing in and in, hiding out the leftover oxygen, in returning making your chest tighten and you, unable to breathe in air through your lungs because of how anxious you are.

Running adrenaline was not enough to keep you numb. You need something more to make you calm. The handsome entity saw the way your twisted expression flashes in a second, the moment he approaches you again by walking forward to come closer.

“Why. Why me.” You blabber out. Head shaking in frustrated dwelling. Why did it have to be you? Why did he pick you?

There was a reason of why he chose you out of anyone else. Donghyuck found you to be the most qualified and entertaining mortal , to the point he wants you to sell your soul willingly. Sure, he’s collected thousands upon thousands of souls from human to human differing from one another; but they don’t quite hit the same as you. He observed you for a few days, learned your weaknesses and strengths. Hell he even caught you doing your private showering to your late night fling sex. You’re a strong individual. One to never show fear. One to fight for what she believes and the one for taking control. He’d like to think you’re scared to be vulnerable as you cannot stand a situation going out of your hands. For example like this situation currently. You’re left hyperventilating because this scares you to be exposed to something foreign.

But not to worry. Donghyuck can give you anything and everything, you just have to make up your mind and say something. The man kneels down on his knees, his back arching forward to lean close to your beautiful scarce face. Donghyuck gently strokes your face with his hands, the tension from your soft smooth and clear face sent him into havens he’s never been to before. Such a beautiful damsel you are but at the same time not very damsel either. The way his hand effects you, rose him with arousal of excitement.

Breathe hitches loudly, the corner of your eyes staring down at the pretty sun kissed hands holding your cheek sliding down to the very edge of your jawline, Lifting you to look up at him directly.

“You fascinate me Y/n. You’re so different from the mortals that all act the same, wish for the same things, hell, it’s as if I’ve been meeting the same person for decades.”

He whispers now, transmitting all emotions in his voice that strike you to be so humane. Donghyuck looks like you, a person, but the image of him at the beginning standing in your hallway so creepily sends shivers down your spine. He’s dangerous. But little by little you’re starting to fall just a bit.

“I can give you anything and everything you want, you just have to say the words.” He tells Y/n who stared at him with wide shrieking pupils. He put a spell on you, metaphorically, you felt your head spinning.

He wonders, what do you desire? You don’t show any impulse for money. You don’t seek revenge in your large beautiful heart and you definitely do not look for immortality. So what could you possibly desire subconsciously and openly in your body, heart, mind and soul? It leaves him on a toll of overthinking thoughts, he cannot figure you out. This is what he meant by different.

You’re just one of the few mortals (though he’d have to say one of its kind) that does not want anything. You’re selfless. Something he never was in his past lives, current life and even as a demonic being. He admires you for your holy trait.

God will definitely have a first class to heaven for you. You aren’t falling so deep in his charming words that are as devilish as they sound in the Bible. He was the snake and his words were a sweet longing red apple waiting to be bitten. You were the humanity on line that did not take a bite. You were cautious and paranoid.

Y/n thickly gulps, finally getting caught in a conflict of the emphasis of ‘everything and anything’. The way your body reacts without filter, you knew that the demonic being in front of you holding you so dear, was now preparing for your answer. You close your eyes tightening your thighs together as you lean with your eyes closed.

“I…”

He heard you pause abruptly. The beautiful man in front of you was fooling you so deeply into an endless pool of sinful thoughts. God, you prayed in your head to forgive you for what you’re thinking and for what you’re considering to do.

Selling your soul? You happen to ask yourself if it is worth the effort and price to sell yourself to a man so enthral, for what you’re desiring is a job no one could do.

You’re a lustful young woman who hit her twenty’s not too long ago. You’re not that experienced. In fact you only recently lost your virginity to some bum of a man at a party,

You blame the alcohol for its doing because if you knew who you slept with you’d reconsider the man immediately.

But yes your first time wasn’t the most proudest and it definitely was a shit experience. You’ve never been left satisfied enough and you didn’t have your first orgasm either. Now that there stands before you a demon with such sex appeal, you can’t help but let your mind run laps and the idea could only get you wetter and wetter.

“There is no need to be shy. I will give you everything you wish for.” The demon reassures and pulls his hand away. You inhale deeply.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Y/n finally let’s out the words she so wanted to speak for so long, with a long ragged breathing, the demon faces her with a chilling dark expression that screams to you ‘with pleasure.’ He was just as glad to hear such an intimate activity. It could only put the innocence beauty of yours to be a fraudulent disguise. It doesn’t seem like you are so…pearl and gem like golden as he thought.

You’re just as sickening and twisted as he is. “I knew i did a good job picking you…” he trails softly lifting you up by his body bridal style. He heard mini surprise noises leaving your lips. The man speedily teleports in your bedroom with you thrown on the bed. He floats lightly to the bed with him over you, as he did not waste a minute,

All you heard him whisper was a few Latin words and a click to the fingers. You become nude and exposed so easily. A shivering cold air hit the skin, goosebumps hovering on you. Donghyuck licks the bottom lip eyeing you up and down, like you were for his eyes only to see. His soul. His human.

No one else’s.

“Would you rather prefer my demonic form or my human form?” He casually asked as he took off the dark grim cloak, exposing the white fancy-looking shirt that came off instantly to reveal the chiselled body of his, glowing brown skin eking to be marked by you. You weren’t focused on yourself to realise that unknowingly you grind on his cloth thighs, repeatedly humping it dry. You moan.

Donghyuck holds down the hips flat on the bed, pushing your body with it. He smirks seeing how frustrated you are, the more reactive you get the more he felt the sexual tension built. Lord have mercy on your soul, you’re not so bright afterall.

“Human. Keep the human form, please.” You tell desperately, closing your eyes shut and reopening them to see Donghyuck licking the inner thighs, soft bites to the canine teeth made, he found the places on your body that you never knew about would make you so sensitive and weak to the knees. The inner thighs mark where he bit down, spilling small scabs of blood in his mouth, traces his tongue up your legs to the round curve hips. Above your abdomen he rests, kissing it.

Lips were so deadly as your body jolts at it. The new feeling of warm mouth placing wet kisses, up from the stomach rural area until he reaches the exposed chest. In goes your right tit first, circled by the hungry tongue and a soft punch by the canine teeth leaving you to shout with pleasurable vocals; a few wet kisses once again when he pulls off the chest, he comes forward to your neck that made you become so ragged with oxygen. The same suffocating sensation from earlier except, this time, you were enjoying the way he made you run out of breath by simply teasing and putting on a minor foreplay.

You never felt such compatibility with anyone before except him and he wasn’t a human. You ache for him more and more he kept you waiting but despite the way he needs you to sell your soul as desperately too, he wasn’t in such hurry as you were.

“God, don’t keep me waiting please.” Y/n pleads like there was no tomorrow. Your voice echoes in the man’s ears like music, he darkly laughs sadistically. “Darling there is no god involved here. Only the devil.” —

“But don’t worry my soul. I’ll make this the most unforgettable everlasting pleasure to quench that lustful body of yours.” He continues to trace as the did his fingers now connect to your swollen clit gushing for a release for a lifetime, hands were as warm as the sun itself; scorching your skin with such impact you will never forget in your memory. Rubbing freely with a flick to his wrists left your wet velvety walls reopen and spill with an instant orgasm. He sat in awe watching it from the get go, becoming more and more invested in making you do it again from the beginning; and he did . Each thrust of his fingers, whether he would penetrate with his fingers to your another orgasm, or if he was simply abusing your clit again to get out that wet action in front of him, it didn’t leave you stopping with disappointment. It left you stunned with you seeing stars.

You never knew you could come so many times. He made you come for the tenth time. By the time the two finished on the tenth orgasm incoming her sensitive body, the man was ready to witness the dazedly pupils rolling on the room unable to focus on him, and as did her thighs pressing together. He rubs the entire pussy in his hands as he lets go, his mouth welcomes the fingers coating with the woman’s bodily liquid. He hums satisfied, making a large ‘pop’ by pulling his fingers from his mouth once he licked them clean, not wasting any of your come.

“You taste sweet.” He boosts causing you to go feverishly red as you cover your face, biting the bottom lip in a hurry.

“Fuck. I never came that hard in my life before.” You pant. Donghyuck begins to brag to y/n, as if he took a remarkable achievement out of this. Out of you. “Of course you didn’t. Those mortals can’t satisfy your needs can they, my darling y/n?” He chides as you felt your skin prickle at the tone.

It bothers you how he’s right. No one could compare to the devil himself. You’re afraid this one lasting moment will leave you blue balled for the rest of your life until you have your judgement day. The devil himself huffs watching you stay silent, in which he took to an offence as he grabs forward your neck lifting you by only one percentage of his strength.

He stared into your lustful longing eyes, longing so deeply for him and only him; it made Donghyuck feel so good and validated to have as someone obsessed as you wanting to attain him, to rail you until you’re crying tears and it doesn’t bother him or you.

“You can admit it. Tell me how no one else can satisfy you like i do.”

He deepens, watching your mouth slip open.

“We just gotten started. I can’t answer that without evidence.” You murmur though it all came down to your plan of teasing the entity in which you will soon realise you shouldn’t of done that; but did you regret it in the future? Absolutely not. The way your ignorant words shot him and his damn ego, clenching his jaw at you, he smirks balling the tongue at the corner of his cheek. He drops you down on the bed where he stands up.

The man walks over to the end frame of the bed. With a grab to your first, out of thin air he teleports a pair of handcuffs in the same palm; attaching your left wrist to the bed frame and so did he with your right wrist to the bedroom frame too.

He looks at you with a proud expression that left you far more exposed again, wide legs open as your arms were tugging on the metallic objects resisting you from moving. He gals at you like black petrol dangerously surrounding you at a pool helplessly.

“I will make you eat your words.” He bleats.

With y/n’s hands restrained above the bed structured frame, spread and ready to take the lengthy cock belonging to the one and only devil, you came to a realisation quickly once the burning pain stretches with sheer girth out the velvety slimy walls. Thank god he made you come so many times otherwise you would’ve struggled much more, a mere tip had you gripping nothing but air . Digging own fingertips in your skin to the point of scrapping it with blood. Himself, Donghyuck couldn’t help but let out a satisfying hum run out his open mouth gaping down as he watches himself bulk in your body like it was made for him. The way he saw a shadow of his cock buried deep in you just on your stomach, made his eyes roll backwards in his head. You bite down on your lip, eyeing him up and down, he looks back at you with a reflective expression.

For a moment. Y/n swore she saw a flash of emotions run on Donghyuck’s face, making her heart skip a beat when the man’s face crashed forward. Whispering a string of praises.

“Hell’s sake, you’re made to take my cock my beautiful soul. You’re doing so well.” He beams watching you take every inch inside. As you should be.

You whine leaning back on the pillows. “More. Please more. I want you to move.”

He grins at the way you’re pleading a list of desires straightforwardly, all because of getting dick tonight, in a way this was possibly the most fun desire he has committed and probably the most intimate. Never in his lifetime (that he’s lived in so far) would he thought he’s involving himself in a situation with a mortal involving sex. It would be a lie to say, he isn’t enjoying it because he very much is enjoying it way more than he thought he would.

“I’m going to indulge a little bit then.” He tells you obediently doing as you told him to. Who was he to say no to you when you’re out here commanding so passionately?

Rocking the hips inwards with ramming motions flicking the air side to side with every thrust going inside you, pushing in more inches of his cock, your body reacts by jolting upwards at the first sensation of almost resembling ripping in half. The more pain the more addictive the pleasure came later, quick overtaking your radioactive brain on focus mode; your mouth drops open, as did your eyes wide as day seeing heaven in on your bedroom ceiling. You pray the lord himself isn’t watching you from above the holy gates, so he couldn’t see how slut out you are for the inhuman entity in front of you, rambling on such cursing words that would entice anyone on. You confess in your head, mentally prepping yourself to seek forgiveness afterwards. But would you want to seek forgiveness when you have this deep feeling in the deep darkness pits of your stomach that you’re most likely going to repeat this situation again… or perhaps even long and pray for Donghyuck again.

Every little movement meant so much to you, you felt everything ten times thousandth fold. The senses heighten and you weren’t sure if it was because of how good Donghyuck is railing your body like there will be no tomorrow for you to see daylight, as if he was planning to ruin you completely, like you were god’s most favourite human in this realm and he was messing you up to be corrupted so he can laugh at the man’s face for taking something so valuable. In other words, he wasn’t leaving until he makes you physically unable to walk again.

In the missionary position with a final thrust forward he stops, suddenly causing you to reopen your eyes to look right at him. The man lifts both of your legs up, folding them in half towards his chest where he brings himself up just a bit, resting above you. Somehow in this position it felt more feral, he felt more animalistic, because this way you felt him press on an area inside you that he didn’t quite hit in the previous position. You gasp once the rough fisting tip of his cock jabs forward repeatedly, making your body squirm.

Million electrical charges run on your bed. Donghyuck has pressed your head down on the pillow, as he continues to fuck into you his large springs of come, painting the inside of your womb white like it were snowing. You grasp palms tightly as you fidget on the metallic handcuffs on the bed frame, small blood running out of your palm as you were scratching and pinching it from the amount of pleasure he was giving you at once, without a merciful thought to you.

He didn’t spare you any kindness and why would he? The man looks down at you with sweaty bangs, a lustful red-eyes glowing right at you, those same dangerous horrific eyes that will give you hauntingly nightmares every night forever . The devil watches how your chest pumps for oxygen, he can hear the raging heartbeat going haywire and he loves it. Donghyuck darkly watching you like you were one of his victims he has killed before.

You’re just like the rest of them. One of the thousands mortals that sold their soul to him for something in return. But he has One Thousand Desires waiting just for you.

No one else can have them only you…

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