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#i do not know how to draw an arm at an angle like this so i took any opportunity to not draw it
schlawa · 1 year
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It’s a (translated) quote from my favourite bands live banter, where the drummer asked if anyone still needs a guitarist and I just thought the vibe fits them so well
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buckyalpine · 3 months
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In some universe I like to think Bucky likes to fuck. Hard. He holds back when he has his hands all over your body and he's trying desperately to shut out the monster in his brain screaming to ravage you because he. Wants. To. Fuck.
There are days where he wants that tender loving and he wants to be soft and sweet but on others?
The release feels to good and in that moment he's in full control, chasing that pleasure, hyper focused on the way his cockhead is dripping and swollen, more sensitive than ever. Its throbbing and his veins are pumping all the blood to his rock hard cock.
At first he does a good job of hiding it.
But then the mask begins to fall.
Primal urges want to take over but how can he ruin his sweet little bunny whose laying under him, moaning and looking at him with doe eyes.
How can he-
"Buck?"
Bucky's hips stutter at the sound of your soft voice laced with concern, your hand coming to cup his cheek.
"You okay?" You can tell he's not all there, his movements hesitant, body too stiff. You're plaint under him but his muscles are tight, jaw clenched. "What's wrong Jamie"
Jamie. The name you had for him alone made him want to fuck you till all you could do was scream his-
"We can stop if-
"No-" Bucky cuts you off before you could continue, petting your head reassuringly, "Everything's fine doll, promise" He pecks a kiss to your nose making you blink and it some how makes him harder. You're so trusting, spreading out naked on his bed, completely unsuspecting of all the dirty things he really wanted to do to you. You were checking in on him to see if he's okay, not having a clue he wanted to rail you so hard, you'd forget how to speak. Pound you till you were begging for him to stop because there was too much cum for your tiny cunt to handle and his heavy balls would still be aching for release.
"You can tell me" You whisper, wiggling from under him to wrap your soft thighs around his waist, stroking his scruffy cheek. "Please?"
Bucky doesn't think he can hide his needs for much longer. Not when your scent is all over him now; on his pillow, the sheets, its soaked onto his skin with how closely your naked bodies are pressing against each other. How can he be expected to have any self-control when you're looking up at him like that like a sweet little bunny caught in the wolfs den, cuddling into her predators chest.
"You really want to know?" His voice was husky, letting his nose trail along the column of your neck, breathing in your sweet smell, letting his tongue dart out to taste your sweat slicked skin. The action makes you gasp, clenching around him with a whimper, your eyes growing wide when a growl emits from deep in his chest, "Are you sur you really want to know?"
"Y-yes" You nod, your breath hitching in your throat at the dark smirk that appears on his face as his hand snakes up to softly clasp around your throat.
"I want to ruin you bunny" Bucky's nose nudges against your affectionately before leaning down to nip your pouty bottom lip.
"R-ruin?" You whisper, a wave of slick soaking his cock further which doesn't go unnoticed by him. He experimentally draws his hips back and snaps them forward, hitting your cervix, the salacious moan you let out driving him feral.
"I want to fuck. Promise I'll make love to you after but I want to fuck you pretty girl" He squeezes your throat a little tighter, moving to graze his teeth along your jaw. "Will you let me? Fuck this pretty little pussy?"
The breathy yes you let out is all he needs.
And fuck you he does.
-
"J-JAMIEE"
"That's it-scream-scream for me!" He roars, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips and he pulls you back to meet his thrusts, his balls slapping your clit each time. He has you on your hands and knees though your arms gave way, your face pressed against the mattress. He brings his leg up to get a deeper angle and the feeling causes white spots to blur you vision.
"M-more-Wan' more" You weakly beg, tears streaming down your face in pleasure, your entire body being held up by his grip as he takes you from behind.
"Greedy slut, begging for more as if she isn't already full of cock and cum" Bucky gritted out, having already emptied himself in your once, your combined slick making it easier for him to pound you. "Just a hole for me to fuck, you're just here to get me off aren't you baby, just a tight little pussy for me to stuff my dick into"
"Ye-ah" You hiccup, overstimulated from the orgasms he's pulled from your body left, right and center. "So-so-good"
"S'good huh, gotta keep you well fucked for my fat cock bunny" You have no idea where he got such a filthy mouth from, another orgasm building in your belly from his words alone, "Can feel you getting tight again, lookit you cumming all over me baby, messy girl, soaking me"
You can't respond aside from wailing with pleasure, trickles of squirt wetting his thighs, the sight making his balls pull towards his body.
"That's it, good girl, fuck gonna cum bunny, gonna give you my cum and keep fucking it back into you, keep you nice and full of me" He rails you faster, the serum in his veins pumping, sweat dripping down his body. He feels impossibly hot, head thrown back as immense pleasure shoots down his spine, his pace growing sloppy. There's not a single thought in his brain other than busting load after load in your sopping cunt till his cock his soft. He doesn't care that it almost hurts, overstimulated himself, panting and rutting into you, he's so far gone, his deep moans slipping into a whimper as his cock starks to leak, he's so close-
"OH-FUCKK" Hot ropes of his spend shoot from his tip as he lets his body fall on top of you, humping and rutting himself till he's all empty, "y'feel to good, can't even stop, holy shit" He moans into your neck, suckling at your pulse point while you writhe under him feeling his cum seep out of you. His movements slow till there's nothing left, his sensitive length still tucked between your folds, pink and soft and wet with your cream. He carefully moves you so you're resting on the pillows, his cool metal hand brushing your forehead.
"Come back to me bunny" Bucky coos, chuckling at your dazed state, your eyes still unfocused, panting and blindly reaching for him, "M'right here babygirl, c'mhere, I got you" He cradles your soft body close to his, kissing your hairline. "Did so good for me princess, so so proud of you"
You let out a sleepy yawn, curling up on his chest like a content kitten, closing your eyes while nuzzling into him. You've never looked so peaceful and happy and Bucky can tell just by your happy little sigh you want more of what he gave you.
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gamermattsgf · 1 month
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“Cool spider…” // Tattoo artist Chris
Warnings: sextape / colleague relationship / favour for a favour trope / riding / petty Chris x reader / nose piercing!Chris / spanking kink / mommy kink / slight breeding kink / tattoo!Chris / praise kink / ownership kink / degradation kink / ‘good girl’ / creampie / unprotected sex / hair pulling / exhibitionist kink / scratch kink / tit play / overstimulation
Summary: you and Chris both work in a tattoo & piercing gallery, and your toxic ex just won’t leave you alone… so Chris decides to shut him up and put him in his place.
Author’s notes: I’m baaack. someone’s seriously got to stop me from making up fics on stuff that I’ve just randomly yapped about and blogged for fun. Me: posting about tattoos I’d think Chris would look good with. Also me: ‘-now hang on a sec that’s actually given me a great idea…’ *pulls out a notebook and starts vigorously writing shit down*.
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“Gotta know, I ate her, she's so sweet, now or later. I want that all the time, all the time I'll make you all mine” - Toes Down, Loukeman
. ♱ .
You sigh, checking your phone once again before flipping it back around to face the desk. You shake your head and put it into your hands to rub it slowly in exhaustion. This is the fifth time he’s texted you today and your patience with him was slowly thinning.
‘You good?’
Chris mumbles absentmindedly from his hunched over position at the counter. He has his shirt off - as he usually does - to keep himself cool as the ceiling fan whirls above your heads. You look at his back, and the way his light wash blue jeans wrap around his lean waist lowly.
His right arm moves languidly as he sketches out a stencil for one of his clients, the graphite of his lead pencil scratching against his favourite sketchbook soothingly in the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the tattoo parlour.
You admire the jet black ink adorning his torso, that stretches from the bottom of his spine to cover the expanse of his shoulder blades in jaggedly aggressive patterns, the back tattoo attractively sat over his otherwise soft skin.
The muscles wrapped around his shoulders move as he draws, and you can’t help but swallow thickly at the sight of them.
‘Yeah… I’m fine’
You reply, not at all convinced by your own weak attempt of trying to mask your obvious distaste for the sight of the messages on your Lock Screen whilst you shuffle about trying to clean a needle gun.
‘Oh really? Cos’ I’m hearin’ a great deal of sighing for your corner of the room and not alotta action…’
Chris sarcastically snorts back, his voice containing buckets of care masked within the joking manner. He doesn’t even bother turning his face, far too absorbed by the current drawing of a tiger he was doing on someone’s chest in a couple of weeks time whilst he expertly shaded in the small black stripes of its rippling body.
You pause for a minute, debating on whether or not you should actually tell Chris about what’s been going on. It’s your ex. And Chris doesn’t like him at all. So how is he going to react when you tell him he’s been quite literally harassing you for the past couple of weeks?
Not well is your guess…
Even though you two are co-workers, you share an extremely close relationship and tell each other practically everything, which sometimes readily blurs the lines between your strictly professional work ethics.
‘Ugh fine, it’s Max, he’s just sort of been bothering me lately…’
This catches Chris’ attention, and his head perks up. Craning his neck he looks back at you with narrowing eyes of suspicious icy blue.
From this angle over his shoulder you can see the gleam of his silver nose ring, and his torso twists just enough to reveal a new tattoo. One that you actually did on him yourself.
It was a delicate but bold patchwork tattoo of a large black widow spider, its long spindly legs stretching across the expanse of his ribs and looking like it was using them to scale up his chest. You struggle to hide a smile at being able to remember doing it on him so well.
You can easily recall the faint buzz of the needle gun and Chris’ soft occasional groans as you punched in the bulbous back of the widow’s body onto his skin that rose and fell to the rhythm of his exhales.
It must have been a sensitive part of Chris’ body because his breathing had been raggedy and his eyes had been squeezed shut for a majority of the tattoo. You had faintly mumbled ‘cool spider… you draw it yourself?’ To which he had responded with a grunt and an affectionate ‘duh’.
Whenever his eyes had opened to look at you they had been dilated heavily, with either pain or pleasure, you’re not quite sure.
He glares over at you and shakes his head. ‘Not this fucking idiot again… what’s he done this time?’.
Chris’ patience for Max has never been there, and he’s often one to be petty about every single move your ex boyfriend makes.
Chris has never liked him and so rejoiced when he heard from you that the break up had been messy on his side of the bargain.
Max was trouble, and so you had done the right thing when breaking things off with him. However, Max wasn’t one to easily let go, and he had been pestering you to take him back ever since.
‘Just being his normal asshole self I suppose’.
You’re deliberately vague with Chris, because you don’t want him to get all riled up like he usually does. He had given up his sketch now and had fully turned to lean his back and elbows onto the counter, knowing that you telling him this information was far more important than the task at hand.
His eyes then flick to the door of the studio, where the welcome sign hangs in the centre of the glass window pane. All around the door are frames of hundreds of different tattoos, all in the different styles of each of the employees that work here. No one else is working today though, it’s just Chris and yourself maning the store.
Chris is a primarily black work realist, and so his designs take up quite a lot of time, their lifelike splendour forking cash loads of money into his bank account whenever a piece is completed.
Multiple clients of his have been here for months as Chris prefers to take his artwork in sessions so the healing isn’t as tenuous.
Quite a few of his previous works have been photographed and framed about the waiting area, just to showcase his impressive ability.
Your area of speciality is more in line with fine line tattoos, you prefer delicacy over all else and likewise, some of your bigger works have been photographed and framed about the shop.
‘You got any more scheduled clients with appointments today?’ Chris spontaneously enquires, and you can tell simply by his face that he is pondering some form of idea within his head that makes you nervous. You hesitate with your response.
‘…Emm- no, I don’t think so?’.
Chris nods mischievously and smirks with his mouth open and his tongue pushing against the side of his teeth playfully.
‘I’m gonna need a little bit more of an explanation than just ‘he’s being an asshole’ then, cherry…’ Chris sing-songs as he pushes himself from off of his slouched position and starts to exit from behind the counter.
The nickname ‘Cherry’ had caught on fairly quickly between the two of you, because Chris had thought that you honestly looked way too sweet to be working in a downtown, grungy tattoo shop. After his first usage of the fond name it had just kind of stuck and now always sounded like molten amber honey dripping from his mouth.
He puts ‘he’s being an asshole’ in knowing quotation marks because he already knows how much of an asshole Max is. He’s experienced it before whenever your ex has decided to show up to your place of work and be a nuisance.
You’re pretty sure you almost had to hold Chris back from planting a right hook into his jaw one time because he had knocked over a bunch of new inks the store had just purchased for everyone’s clients.
Chris’ jaw had clenched immeasurably and you had quickly veered in front of him to plant your palms onto his collarbones after he had taken a large stride towards Max.
You had held him back gently, telling him to take several deep breaths and keep cool whilst you dealt with it.
Well… your version of dealing with it was calmly escorting him out of the shop and reassuring him that you’d see each other later before meekly returning back into the reception area to face a fuming Chris who immediately rolled his eyes and spat a quick ‘I’m gonna ban that bitch from coming in here next time he shows his ratty lookin’ face…’
You had simply sighed, shook your head, and tenderly patted him on the shoulder.
At the present, you squirm nervously when you see the way Chris walks right up to the door, before twisting the heavy duty lock on it and flipping the welcome sign to the side that displayed a big ‘closed’ on the front that was visible to passing strangers.
‘Chris it’s not that big of a deal honestly!’ You try and laugh it off as Chris spins back around. He then walks right up to you.
Grabbing one of the other chairs at the desk you were sitting at, he turns it around so that he can comfortably straddle it.
‘Uhh, well that’s where you’re wrong because it just so happens that my favourite girl’s ex is bothering her, and if she’s gotta problem with it… then so do I’ he sassily bites back, referring to you in the third person as he rests his taut forearms onto the spine of the chair, which gives himself something to lean on.
You have to ignore the way your stomach flips when he calls you his favourite girl, and you shyly flit your eyes to the floor whilst still fumbling around with the tattoo gun.
‘Well um… he just- he just keeps uhh’ you start, stuttering and having to sigh in utter frustration at not even being able to articulate your words properly.
Suddenly your eyes feel hot, and they sting a little. You are not going to cry in front of him. You panic when your voice wobbles and try to regain your composure as Chris looks at you with a worried expression.
‘Hey- hey… s’okay cherry, s’alright. Take your time, I’m here’.
Chris notices your flustered state and coos gentle reassurance at you whilst stretching one of his hands out to softly stroke the ball of your shoulder, right on the section of naked skin where the fabric of your top straps don’t quite reach.
You want to say that Chris is just being friendly, but somehow, the way he touches you tells a different story. It could have just been a harmless pat, but instead he had curled the knuckles of his hand and used them to soothingly skim up and down your skin, slowly, repetitively… almost sensually.
Chris liked any excuse to touch you. You were so soft and supple, a major contrast to his own skin. And he hated seeing a man like that crumple you up like a simple ball of paper and toss you into the trash.
You take one last stuttering breath before continuing.
Gazing at Chris’ soft smile and focusing on the calming gleam of his nose piercing, you find yourself relaxing once again as you take your time to look at each of his individual statement pieces whilst relaying your story.
His silver nose ring, his two lobe piercings that were decorated with spiked metal hoops, and his helix piercing, that came in the form of a small snake charm. It shone in the natural light of the room as it slithered up the expanse of his cartilage and provided a nice distraction for you.
‘I don’t know… h-he’s just saying these disgusting things about my body, and- and how I’m never going to find someone that will treat me better than him in bed. Just general filthy shit like that…’ you mumble, feeling absolutely humiliated and degraded at having to tell Chris about what Max has been saying to you as you sniffle and rub your nose.
As you explain yourself, the motion of Chris stroking your arm slows up significantly, and his little smile fades with every word you speak to him. His eyes narrow, something you noticed he does whenever he’s seething with rage.
‘Gimme your phone, I wanna see these texts’ Chris quips demandingly, using the hand that was once rubbing your skin to unfold itself and silently ask for your phone.
You sigh and hand it to him without much of a fight. You know that there’s no use in trying to argue with Chris when he gets like this. He’s driven, and once he has an idea there’s rarely anything you can do to deter him from it.
He unlocks your phone, already knowing your password, and starts to scroll through the endless shower of sexually abusive messages. You bite your lip as you look at him reading them over.
He sits on the backwards chair with his jean-clad thighs casually spread out, still one arm resting on top of the spine whilst the other one holds the phone and vigorously scrolls downwards.
You then flick your eyes to his face, and the way his rosy lips wet themselves as they quietly announce some of the words that he reads back to himself. The further down he goes the more furrowed his brows get.
Suddenly he shakes his head with an angry tick and slams your phone face down onto the table. You jump slightly at this, and blink at a Chris that had immediately shot to a stand.
‘That’s it, m’not dealing with this shit anymore. If he can’t leave you the fuck alone then I’ll make him.’
You look at him in confusion.
‘What’s that supposed to mean…?’ you shyly trail off but your question is shortly answered as soon as Chris bends down to level with you and seamlessly digs his palms into your thighs so that he can pluck you up from off of your chair.
You yelp a little in shock, your heartbeat thrumming against your ribcage before you quietly recover as Chris curls your legs around his hips. Upon touch, your hands instinctively fly to grip onto the back of his neck, his skin being warm and tepid.
The scruff of his long hair feels like satin tickling over your fingers and Chris groans in achievement as soon as he feels your thighs tense against his waist.
He’s been waiting for an excuse to do this.
‘Max is tellin’ you that you’re never gonna get a better fuck than him? Well I’m about to prove him wrong, s’that okay with you, cherry?’ Chris asks, not really expecting no for an answer as he starts to walk over the squeaking floorboards to the backrooms of the shop.
He knows exactly where he’s going and something deep within your core flutters at this assertive kind of attitude.
Chris has always been the extremely blunt and forward type of guy- if you looked pretty that day, he’d tell you, and make it obvious that he was attracted to you.
Today was no different, you could tell he had every intention of fucking you and making it extremely clear to Max just how good he was going to do it.
‘Y-yeah’ is just about all you can muster in your shaky state.
As you look down at Chris’ face, his chocolatey waves tussle in a rather wild-looking way whilst nestled about his pierced ears. Your fingers timidly skim about his neck, and one of them draws nervous patterns over the black bat tattoo situated behind his right ear that he had gotten for his brother a year ago.
‘That’s my girl’ he praises cockily as he barges through the beaded entrance way into one of the client operating rooms. There’s a black leather stretcher in the centre of the room and a stool sitting idle right beside it where the artist sits.
Chris goes straight for the client table though.
He smirks a toothy grin as he plops you down onto the spongy leather and you find it within yourself to crack an equally as excited smile. He nudges open your legs so that he can stand in between them and weighs his hands down onto your hips, pressing his thumbs into your bones and rubbing them fondly.
‘Did Max kiss you at all when you two fucked?’ He asks breathlessly with his cerulean eyes lilting down to your lips hungrily.
He’s itching to get all over you. He’s been dying to taste your tongue on his for ages and it just so happens that this posed as the perfect, sneaky way to do so.
‘Well, hm… not that much, but I guess a-’ you start to explain, but ‘not much’ is enough of a pathetic answer for Chris to fall forward and engulf your lips in between his before you can finish anyway.
Your little muffled whine of shock is swallowed by a Chris that attaches himself to your bottom lip quickly.
Winding one of his hands behind your back, he uses that - and the other one gripping your hip - to yank your body towards his. You two stay flushed together, and you can feel Chris’ throbbing prick against the seam of your pants already. He’s hard, and clearly pent up for you behind his low-waisted jeans.
‘That’s not good enough’ he mumbles, almost in a tongue-drunken stupor against your lips, criticising Max so that he can subtly defend his choice to kiss you.
Really, he had no need to, but fuck did he want to.
You don’t complain, in fact, you simply sigh at how close Chris is. You can feel his nose delicately skimming against your cheek the more he twists the side of his face to gain better access to you, and you can’t help but lust for the way his dewy lips wrap around your own.
The contrast between his cold fingertips brushing against your body and his hot tongue leeching out to slip into your open mouth makes you shiver.
‘N-no you’re completely right… that’s not good enough’ you coquettishly add on to the conversation you two have in between kisses. As you shit talk Max together, you only encourage Chris to take further jabs at him.
‘And what about these pretty little things here…? Did he touch these enough?’.
Chris’ nose trails down the line of your jaw to dip and run along the jugular vein of your neck whilst he pants desperately. He holds your sat figure into his standing leant one with one hand gripping your ass whilst the other one trails up to squeeze against one of your braless tits.
Wanting Chris to play with them, your blushing figure shakes its head and you swallow thickly. ‘No…’.
Chris hums a casual ‘huh’ in playfulness before the hand playing with it decides to slip itself under your shirt for better access. You heavily hiss and arch your back as soon as skin on skin contact is reached and Chris gingerly touches your peaked nipple.
‘You make me feel like such a pervert when you don’t wear a bra to shifts we do together because I stare at them all the time…’ Chris confesses as he gently kneads one of them within his big palm. Whilst he does this, his face buries itself into your neck to pepper sprinkles of sloppy kisses all over your skin.
‘What if I told you I do it on purpose… I like it when you look…’ you breathe with your head knocked back in pleasure. Chris stops his assault on your neck to gaze at you with raised eyebrows of shock.
‘Fuck. Max was an idiot for fumbling you…’
This makes both your heart flutter and your core drip. You like Chris’ praise a lot more than you like Max’s degradation, and make sure to let Chris know this by giving him another kiss.
‘S’mommy gonna let me suck on her tits?’ He ponders in a feigned babyish voice against your lips, the sweet lilt of his sensual tone almost making you melt into the client’s table.
Your needy reply of ‘yes’ is soon followed by an immediate response from Chris, who slowly reaches into his back pocket for his phone.
He slides it out and then presents it in front of your face with his brows raised.
‘And is mommy gonna let me film it so that I can send it to Max and let him see me having my treat?’.
Your eyes flick to the phone, then to Chris’ expectant face, absolutely drowning in lust at the thought of Chris wanting to film himself sucking on your tits. You nod without hesitation, and Chris smirks in victory.
He’s definitely using this to touch himself later.
Chris quickly fumbles around with his phone in excitement, scrubbing his home screen into his camera roll before he’s pressing the small red button to record himself propping it up onto the counter right next to where you were sitting.
You watch within a trance as Chris feeds his hands into the bottom of your top to sensually slide it right up your ribs. He then runs it over the top of your tits and leaves it to rest above them with a purr of ‘good girl’.
You feel your knees get physically weaker at the sight of Chris veering his face down into your tits, his mouth almost feathers against them as both of you look at the camera at the same time.
Chris has a little victorious smirk on his face, that he smugly flashes to his phone before turning back in and gently kissing your nipple.
He can’t stop his conniving smile as you seal your eyes shut and throw your head back, whimpering with your fingers combed into the back of his hair and tugging on it. Chris makes a show of poking out his tongue and licking you before he fully kisses one of your tits into his mouth to suck on it.
He moans a little starved whimper at the feeling of your soft flesh in his mouth whilst his tongue rolls and his teeth clamp down onto you.
His hands get grabby as you pant, listening to the way the microphone of the camera absorbs the sloppy sounds of him sucking on your skin whilst he kisses and licks wherever he can.
‘That feel good huh?’ Chris mumbles into you, and you whine in response with a stuttered ‘so- so good’. He nods cockily, eying the camera with your second tit already in between his teeth. ‘Yeah? This the best mouth you’ve ever had?’.
Struggling to fight off his smile at the comment he completely stole from Max, he knows it’ll make your ex’s blood boil, especially when you reply with an instantaneous shout of, ‘fuck- yes, I- I need more baby!’.
‘You want more?’ He drawls temptingly, pulling away from your chest that was now red and glistening, some sections littered with subtle teeth marks and some with purpling hickies.
‘I’ll give you more baby’ he laughs through his teeth before pressing his fingertips onto your core.
‘Hope you’re soaking for me, you’re gunna need it’ he quips before lightly trailing his hand up to the button of your zipper.
Your core clenches again when he pops it open, the insinuation that you need to be extra wet for him because of his size making you want to pass out in horniness.
He opens the front of your jeans before feeding his hands underneath your thighs so that he can pull you towards him and also force you onto your back to tug your jeans down.
After that, he watches the way you squirm when he sticks his fingers into the side of your sheer panties. In view of the camera, the pad of his thumb swipes up your slit as he checks your sensitivity himself.
‘Awe angel you are soaked… what a good girl for me’.
His sweet praise melts over you in the best way possible, and you can’t help but get shy and cover up your eyes to smile.
Sometimes you forget that the camera is there, but Chris never does, and he glances over at it constantly to smirk as if Max is already watching on the other end of the line before turning his attention back to admire you.
‘I’m gonna make that pretty pussy feel so fucking good momma’ Chris boldly states as he starts to fumble around with his chunky and glamorously rhinestoned belt buckle. The leather of it flaps and his buckle gives a metallic jingle whilst he undoes it, his hair falling in front of his eyes because of the downwards slant his head holds.
‘Please- I really need you’ you mumble breathlessly, spreading your legs even further in reaction to seeing the stretch of his cock against his white Calvin Klein boxers as soon as he lets his jeans drop to the floor with a heavy crumple.
From here you can see his thigh tattoo of a crooked spiders web, done in extremely fine ink, delicate but dark.
‘I know you need me baby I know- be patient alright?’ He shushes you with a reassuring coo, before sliding to the side of you and hopping up onto the table himself. He positions himself right in front of his still recording phone so that he can get the best angle for this.
‘Why don’t you go ahead an’ take off those panties for the camera sweet girl… do it for me?’.
Chris’ whiny sounding voice is just so sugary and compelling. You’re pretty sure you would do anything he asked if it really came to that extreme because along with his voice, his lips and eyes really did the trick for you.
Chris stutters a breath as soon as he pushes his hand down his boxers to take ahold of his hot, silky cock, it’s skin already wet with precome at just how divine you had sounded whilst he was attached to your tits.
He tightens his fist to squeeze himself and throbs in his hand, his mouth dropping open and his shoulders heaving as you slide off the table and strip from your clothes fully.
As soon as you’re done, you can feel your wetness trickling and sloshing about your folds, and so you squeeze your thighs together when looking at Chris for his next instruction.
Chris hungrily gazes down to your panties that lie in a messy heap on top of your jeans. ‘Gimme those?’ He commands and gestures for you to grab a hold of your panties and give them over to him, which you do obediently and without question.
Chris grasps ahold of them and balls them up into his fist before smirking at the camera once again. ‘These are mine now… so’s your pussy’.
You turn red at this low and beastly remark, trying hard not to pounce on top of Chris for saying it. He talks so smoothly. It’s as if every word his mouth forms puts you under a lemony haze of pleasure and you just can’t get enough of it.
You just don’t understand how he can keep this up when you yourself already look like a fucked-out hot mess.
‘I’m all yours Chris’
You practically flee into his awaiting arms, and he hoists your bare and pink centre over his lap.
Kissing your tits again, he grips onto your fleshy thighs and moans a whimper whilst side eyeing the camera in ultimate possessiveness, just to make a show of it being him who’s sucking your tits, and not Max.
He’s going to feel so smug and proud of himself as soon as he sends this his way.
‘Can I have your cock Chris, please?’ You beg, stroking his waves of hair once again to butter him up - not that you’d really need to work all that much to have his cock in the first place…
‘Of course you can Cherry, you’ve been so good for me’ Chris replies as his fingertips stroke against your stretch marks, before he leans in and whispers ‘help yourself…’.
You glance down to the tent in his boxers with your lip bitten and a giddy little smirk on your face. After Chris invites you, you waste no time in pulling his weeping cock from out of the restraints of his boxers.
The hip tattoo he has of a Cupid with angel wings, a halo and a winking face soon makes itself known to you after you tug his underwear down a little further. The ink of the little boy’s heart-encrusted bow and arrow cheekily point right to the base of Chris’ cock, and so you crack a smile, shaking your head fondly at Chris’ inappropriate but witty humour.
He’s thick and throbs in your hand, his tip sticky and slick as it pulses a light pink taffy colour whilst a thick blue vein pokes itself out from the side of his length to travel right down to his base. ‘Fuck’ you breathe. Chris looks at you cockily and is very much pleased with your wanton response.
‘Want you to sit on it till it hurts and you can’t no more precious girl’ he mumbles as he hitches your hips up into his hands and lifts you above him. You nod with a little ‘Uhuh’, your stomach flipping and oozing to feel the stretch of him. He’s bigger than Max, and the thought makes you careen in pleasure.
You almost forget that you two are both supposed to be at work, because all of this feels so private and intoxicating, and the implication of Chris making it into sex tape gives you life.
As soon as you’re placed on top of him, you hold his base so that you can sink down properly, and both of you choke out whines at how fucking amazing it feels.
‘Shit… still tight honey… has Max really been using you properly or is his cock just that small?’.
Chris can’t help it. He gets off on criticising your priggish ex boyfriend because he truly fucking hates his guts. And damn does it feel good to be fucking you with the intention of letting the man himself know through the recording of it.
‘Fuck, I feel so full’ you speak into the air.
You then have to bite your hand so that you don’t draw tears because of the burning stretch Chris gives you. It’s almost unbearably uncomfortable for the first minute of bottoming out.
But then it stops being uncomfortable and starts making you squirm again at needing some form of friction to move yourself.
So you do.
Lifting your hips slightly, you slip back downwards and grind forwards at the same time whilst Chris looks up at you with star-ridden irises. They twinkle in the light and he pants heavily after every time you move.
He soon starts to naturally move himself, needing to respond to you in some sort of way.
He loves watching your tits bounce whilst you rise and fall onto his cock, the sticky slickness of it slapping within his ears and making him want to come all over your insides already. You squeeze him so fucking well, and he equally stretches you out to the limit.
The rough skin of his prick steadily rubs against your walls and ignites an explosion of sensitivity within your centre whenever Chris pushes himself far enough to hit your g-spot. He’s so big he almost bulges from your stomach.
‘Who owns this pussy, who does it belong to?’ He barks as you squeeze your eyes closed and scrunch your nose up, having to slam your head onto his shoulder because of your overstimulation in pleasure.
You stutter out a quick ‘ugh- y-you’ as you feel Chris’ fingers grab onto your hips because of their slowing roll. He digs them into your skin and starts to move you himself at an even faster pace which makes you whine even louder.
‘Sorry… not quite sure Max heard you- can you say that again for me Cherry?’ Chris meanly rebutts and makes your cheeks flame red after he actually takes his palm and harshly swats it against the side of your thigh. You yelp at the brash cracking sound the sweaty skin-on-skin contact creates, but nevertheless still cry a humiliated ‘you!’.
Chris praises you immediately after with a soothing ‘that’s right… good girl’, before starting up his sly and conniving antics once again.
‘And whose name are you gonna be screaming from now on hmm?’.
Chris’ little taunting hum is fucking petty. But also, just what you need to finally cum.
‘Yours Chris! Fuck- all yours!!’.
You’re almost shouting as you arch your spine and throw your head back in ecstasy whilst your legs quiver and an almighty wave of euphoria rushes over your whole entire being.
‘Awe baby… cumming already? I was just getting started…’ Chris coos cockily as he lets go of one of your hips to soothingly stroke against your back with a pretty pout on his lips.
However that pout doesn’t stay for long because it struggles to fight the smirk that quickly overtakes his facial expression at the thought of how quickly he had made you cum.
He glances at the camera once more, to admire the position the both of you were in with dilated eyes, before focusing back onto you and speedily forcing your hips up and down a couple more times to finish himself off.
You squeak and claw at him in overstimulated pain, whining for him to slow down, but all he does is gently hush you in comfort. ‘I know shhh, I know. Wanna make sure I fill you up nice and good though baby’.
His voice is so gentle, and in lulls you into a drooling stupor with tears in your eyes as you claw at his tattooed back with your sharp nails. That’s going to leave heafty scratch marks.
Chris is tempted to wipe them away, but doesn’t have enough time before he’s groaning loudly and his tip is uncontrollable squirting out thick ropes of cum.
He bounces your hips a couple more times to get rid of as much as he possibly can. He wants to see it practically leaking from out of your abused hole. After he thinks you’ve milked him dry, he lets go of your bruised waist and you crumple back down into his embrace.
He rubs your back as you try to desperately regain your breath with your core raw, stinging and slimy with Chris’ cum.
‘There’s my good girl… taking all of me like that. Swear I’ll give you my babies next time you take me that well.’ He absentmindedly praises you for the last time, and you find it within yourself to laugh in disbelief, shaking your head before you slap his shoulder and lean upwards to look at him in the eyes once more.
‘Okay… you’ve proved your point. Now stop recording so I can kiss you a little more.’
Your thumbs stroke the bags underneath his eyes, and his smile is so sunny that you’re sure it could have opened up flowers on a dewy spring morning.
‘Yes ma’am…’
. ♱ .
Later that evening, Chris had sat alone in the tattoo parlour.
He had told you that you could go home early and that he’d sanitise the rooms and lock up as a special treat for you.
You had done as you were told and left a while ago, which left Chris to watch back the sex tape that you two had made earlier with a mean and satisfied smirk slapped over his lips.
He had rewatched it about 3 times, admiring the way both of you had moved with the volume all the way up to listen to your heavenly sounding whimpers. He had replayed his favourite bits a great deal and was fucking obsessed. He couldn’t help himself.
He had then exited the camera app and went straight into Instagram, searching up Max’s account profile to slide into his DMs.
With one final smirk, he had bitten his lip victoriously and selected the video of you and him together before attaching it and typing one final thing before clicking the send button and locking his phone.
Might wanna think next time you make bold allegations about how she’ll never find a better D x
. ♱ .
Author’s notes p.2: guys I’m actually so sorry for disappearing off the face of Tumblr for fuck knows how long without an explanation. Truthfully there isn’t really much of an explanation apart from the fact that I’ve simply been too busy to write (and have also had major writers block atm- hence me and @luv4kozume collab taking so long lol). BUT I’m back with something that has actually turned into one of my favourite pieces of writing on this blog, so I hope it’s been worth the wait!! I love all of you guys for asking where I’ve been and equally as much for missing me. I’ve missed writing for you guys so much and am absolutely obsessed with tattoo artist!Chris, also don’t worry you guys, you’ll get cherry popper 3 one of these days lmao… Anyways, until next time cherry pies!! 🍒
Taglist: @luverboychris @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @stursweet @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @thesturniolos @sturniolosreads @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @ellie-luvsfics @matthemunch @mattsleftnipple03 @robins-scoop @asturniolos @imwetforyourmom @nicksmainbitch @sturnioloenthusiast @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @rootbeerworshiper @chr1sgirl4life @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @isabellehoran @1800chokedathoe @sturnsmadl @sturniolossmut @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattslolita @sturniolowhore @skadltmf @sturniolosstar @luvsturns @mattestrella @hearts4chriss @orangeypepsi
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smileysuh · 2 months
Text
Love, Cupid
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🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “I need…” the cupid’s throat tightens and the words get caught. There are so many things he needs, he just doesn’t know where to start. Mingyu takes a deep breath, smelling your growing scent of arousal. When he looks down, your aura is practically pulsing between your legs, and it draws all his attention. He licks his lips, feeling confident this time when he says, “I need to taste you.”
tw/cw. unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), pussy worship, love drunk Mingyu, fingering, big dick mingyu, pussy stretching, hand-holding during sex, Mingyu is somewhat subby/switchy, mainly missionary to accommodate for his wings, sensitive wings, hand job, mention of birth control, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, etc… I pet names: (his) big guy.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.4k
🍭 aus. mythical/roman/cupid au, soulmate au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. this man has me in a chokehold
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Prologue - the accident
“I’m still not really sure why we needed a new cupid,” Mingyu confesses, toying with the elegantly curved, white bow in his hands. “But I guess if anyone is going to teach you how to do this, it should be me.”
It’s no secret that out of the twelve high council cupids, Mingyu is the one who is most obsessed with love. He lives, breathes and dreams of it. Every second of the immortal man’s life is dedicated to love, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Out of all of Venus’s children, Mingyu is the favorite, and he has no worries that training this new cupid will lead to competition in that regard. Chan seems nice enough, but Mingyu can already tell that the kid has a lot to learn when it comes to the duty of being a matchmaker.
“Our arrows are the most powerful weapon on earth,” Mingyu explains, hovering with his new younger brother over the busy city street. They each have large angelic wings that keep them aloft, and extra cupid magic makes it so they’re invisible to the human eye. Mingyu’s favorite place to people-watch is from the sky, it gives him a bird’s eye view, and an easy way to trail his targets without anything getting in the way. 
“I thought Jupiter’s lightning bolt was the most powerful weapon on earth,” Chan muses.
“It’s not.”
“Neptune’s trident then.”
Mingyu lets out a deep sigh. “Are you here to learn or not?”
“I just want you to explain it to me. How is your bow and arrow the most powerful weapon?” Chan acts as if he’s just looking for information, but Mingyu gets the sneaking suspicion that the young cupid is toying with him. He seems to be cut from the same cloth as the likes of Jeonghan and Soonyoung, who identify as more mischievous and tricksy than most deities supposedly enamored with love.
“Love is the most powerful thing on Earth,” Mingyu states, “and our tools are the makers of love, for humans anyways. Do you know how many wars were started in the name of love? How many people have died for love? Love is the most important and powerful emotion. Without it, humanity has nothing.” 
“I’m still not sure I agree with you on this,” Chan sighs.
“You don’t have to agree with me, because I’m right, and I know I’m right. Now shut up and watch,” Mingyu shushes the younger cupid, pointing at the street below. “Do you see that human?”
Chan flies closer to Mingyu, angling his head toward the elder cupid’s large bicep, looking down his arm to the point of his finger. “The pretty girl?”
“Yes, exactly! Her!” 
“Are we going to shoot her?”
“Yes, but we can’t just shoot her randomly- when we shoot her, she’ll fall in love with the first person she sees- the first person she looks at, and we can’t have her falling in love with just anyone on the street. That would be very irresponsible of us. Once shot, a soul connection forms- our arrows can never miss, and they can never be shot nonchalantly.”
“Or what?”
“Or it would be very, very bad, and as I said, irresponsible, and just… not good. Our job is to find a good match for as many humans as possible, and we can do this by looking at their auras. You see how her aura is pink?” God, Mingyu loves looking at your aura. You’ve got one of the prettiest auras he’s ever seen, and Mingyu’s been around for an extremely long time. “Each aura means something different. Pink souls are romantics, they’re soft. Pinks do best with other pinks, other pinks make them the most fulfilled. They can also manage a red, as they’ll draw on each other’s mutual passions. White auras are also suitable for pinks.”
“Yeah, I know about arua colour.,” Chan rolls his eyes. “Blues work best with blues, they can also do well with greens or purples. Greens do best with yellows, greens or blues. Purple does blue or red. I’m not in primary school.” 
Mingyu has no clue how old the new cupid is. It’s a very human joke to make- mentioning primary school. Cupids are born, sure, but they age differently than humans, faster. Mingyu supposes that as the newest cupid, maybe Chan is a representation of the times- but if he starts bringing out Gen Z humor and saying things like “this is lit” while shooting his marks, Mingyu might just have a heart attack.
“These days, pink can be a rare aura to find in men,” Mingyu admits. “I’ve considered a few red auras for her- but she’s so soft, I wouldn’t want her to be overwhelmed. Reds are prone to anger, and a pink can soften them out, but a red aura will always be red, and I don’t think I want that for her.”
“Are you always this wrapped up in the matches you make?” Chan asks. “This shit seems easy- I see an orange aura, I match them with an orange, yellow, or red. I see a pink, I match her with a pink, white or red. It’s not that serious.”
“How could it be anything but serious!?” Mingyu groans. “I told you, our arrow is the most dangerous weapon in the world- you can’t just go around shooting people randomly!”
“But you haven’t actually explained what would happen if I did,” the new cupid points out.
“I told you, it’s irresponsible.”
“Yeah, but what does that mean?”
“It means bad things would happen!”
“Bad things like what, though?”
Mingyu loves love. He’s a soft cupid. But for the love of Venus, he’s beginning to want to strangle Chan. 
Instead of answering, Mingyu’s gaze finds you again. Chan doesn’t have to take this seriously, Mingyu’s on a mission to find you a soulmate, and he’ll stop at nothing-
“Ouch!” Mingyu flinches, tearing his eyes from you and grabbing at his arm, where an arrow is protruding from his bicep. The cupid’s jaw drops, and he looks to the younger mischief maker.
“Oops?” Chan shrugs.
“Why did you do that!?” Mingyu screams, tearing the arrow out and covering the wound before it begins to drip his golden immortal blood. 
“I wanted to see what would happen if I randomly shot a couple without doing research. She’s pink. You’re the pinkest soul I’ve ever even seen- it’s a good match, no?” Chan grins. “Like… what’s the worst that could happen?”
Mingyu can’t even speak. He can’t find the words. 
Never, in the history of the world - as far as Mingyu knows it - has one cupid shot another, let alone with the intention of binding their soul to a mortal’s. 
But to be completely fair, Mingyu can’t even find it within himself to be mad at Chan. For one, he should have never given the new cupid his own bow and arrow, and maybe more importantly- Chan might have been right in binding the two of you. Because holy shit, you’ve got the prettiest soul Mingyu’s ever seen, and he’s been hesitant to match you up with someone, worried they’d be unworthy-
What’s a better fit for your pretty pink aura than his own vibrant magenta self?
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One - the cupid council 
“And then…” Mingyu looks around at the council of Cupids, taking a deep breath as he gets to the climax of the report, “Chan shot me.”
“He shot you?” Seungcheol grins, adjusting in his golden throne as he looks at the two immortals in the center of the room.
“With an arrow,” Mingyu clarifies. “Yeah.”
The eldest cupid stifles laughter, lifting a hand to half cover his mouth as he giggles and looks around at the others. Jeonghan meets the eldest’s gaze, also grinning. There are mixed reactions from others, and it’s Soonyoung of all people who stands up as if this whole thing is blasphemy, declaring, “Take the kid’s arrows away!”
“Why did this kid even get made,” Jihoon groans, rubbing his temples in annoyance.
“Hey!” Chan declares, offended at the notion of him being a useless creation from their godly mother. 
“Seungkwan,” Seungcheol waves a hand, “take his arrows away.”
“Wait, no, I earned these!” Chan holds his bow and quiver close to his chest, hiding behind Mingyu when one of the other cupids gets closer to relieve him of his weapons. 
“You shot an elder cupid,” Seungcheol says dismissively. “How does that count as earning your bow and arrow, or for that matter, your wings.” The eldest eyes the small white protrusions that flutter behind Chan, who shudders at the idea of them being taken away along with his cupid tools.
“Okay, everyone relax,” Jeonghan sighs, standing from his throne to address the room. “This isn’t Chan’s fault. I’d heard Mingyu was having trouble with a mark, being indecisive- and I wasn’t the only one who heard about it. This instruction came from Mother herself. Chan was just following orders. He has earned his bow and arrow, as well as his wings.”
“This order came from Mother?” Seungcheol sits up in his chair, jaw-dropping.
Venus is generally very hands-off with her sons. The idea that she’d heard about Mingyu’s predicament, and stepped in with an idea like this- well, it’s completely abnormal, and it’s clear that everyone on the cupid council is shocked by the revelation. 
“She said something along the lines of… ‘Mingyu loves love, and it’s time he experiences it for himself.’” Jeonghan waves a hand nonchalantly, as if this is an everyday occurrence. 
“What were you doing with Mother?” Wonwoo asks, and it’s clear in his tone that he’s not entirely trusting of the elder, more mischievous cupid.
“She has favorites, you know,” Jeonghan grins. “To Mingyu, she gifted love, to me, she gifted the role of messenger.” 
“That’s some gift,” Seungcheol scoffs, but Mingyu gets the sense that Seungcheol wishes he’d been the one chosen to be privy to this information. “So Mother wants Mingyu to do what? Seduce a human?”
“Like it will be hard?” Jeonghan lets out a barking laugh. “This is our Mingyu we’re talking about. If anyone can seduce a human, it’s him.”
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Two - the first meet
“Ok, but what if you shoot her too?” Mingyu suggests as he and Chan follow you from a distance, flying through the clear evening sky while you head home from work.
“Why don’t you shoot her?” Chan retorts.
“Jeeze,” Mingyu rolls his eyes at the newness of his sidekick. “You shot me, so I’m bonded to her now, which means only you can make her second connection. It’s a rule to make sure cupids don’t get in each other’s way. You shot me to fall for her, and if I shot her to fall for anyone else, that would lead to unrequited love, which isn’t fun for anyone.”
“A rule? What would happen if you tried to shoot her though? I mean, unless you and all the other cupids constantly communicate about your marks, there’s no way to know which human belongs to which cupid, is there?”
“What’s with you and breaking rules?” Mingyu sighs, rubbing at his temples. “Listen, I’m not testing fate again… also, most cities are split into small zones. Cupids stick to their zones.”
“Humans don’t though,” Chan points out.
“I’m not talking about this with you anymore.”
“Okay, suit yourself.”
“So will you shoot her for me?”
“Mmmm,” Chan makes a face. “I don’t think so.”
“What?!” Mingyu stops flying, staring at the cupid that he’s supposed to be training. “But… but I’m your teacher, and I’m telling you to shoot her for me!”
“That would be too easy though, right?” Chan flashes a grin. “Plus- that would be an abuse of power, Mingyu. You’re in love with her now, so telling me to force her to fall for you isn’t very fair, now is it?” 
“I-” Mingyu bites at his tongue. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “Well… we know I’m best for her. It wouldn’t be an abuse because we know I’ll treat her right.”
“The thing is…” Chan lets out a yawn, “I’m still not convinced.”
“So you expect me to just go and talk to her?”
“Yeah?” The younger cupid shrugs. “You’re supposed to be some sex god, aren’t you?”
“No one’s ever called me that…” Mingyu can feel his skin heating at the notion. “I’m a love cupid, not a sex god.”
“Same thing,” Chan scoffs. “Just go talk to her. Come on, follow me.” He takes a nose dive, approaching the ground at a speed that makes Mingyu worry for his safety- only for Chan to land like a pro, waving at him to hurry up.
With a groan, Mingyu follows the younger cupid, his feet touching down onto the pavement of the crowded street.
“You can’t go talk to her looking like this,” Chan explains, looking Mingyu up and down.
As immortal beings, they’re impervious to the temperatures of the evening. Dressed in a cream-coloured toga, Mingyu stands out amongst the jackets and hats worn to protect human skin from the cold. “Give me a sec,” Mingyu sighs, using some cupid magic to transform his outward appearance, conjuring an outfit he thinks might draw you in. “How’s this?”
“A suit? Seriously?” Chan rolls his eyes.
“Suits are in!” Mingyu insists.
“Yeah, if you want to look like a sugar daddy.”
“Maybe she wants a sugar daddy?” Mingyu suggests.
“Aren’t you supposed to be some human expert? She’s a pink soul, Mingyu, how many pink souls really value money over personality?”
“So you know more about humans than I do now?” Mingyu can’t believe what he’s hearing out of his ward’s mouth.
“I think love is blinding you, dude,” Chan says, reaching out to touch Mingyu’s expensive silk tie. “You’re pretending to be someone you’re not.”
“I’m rich,” Mingyu insists. 
“Sure, but you’re not a sugar daddy, you’re a cupid.”
Mingyu scoffs. “So what would you want me to wear?” 
“Blue jeans, maybe a hoodie, something that screams ‘make me your boyfriend.’”
Mingyu has to concede that Chan might be onto something, but he refuses to admit it out loud. In fact, Mingyu buries deeper into his conviction that you’ll like the suit. “This outfit is staying,” he states.
“Fine,” Chan shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
With one final grin and giggle at his own double entendre, Chan pushes Mingyu roughly, causing him to fall back and bump directly into you. The rough contact jolts Mingyu into a corporeal form, putting him fully into your visibility as you steady yourself and blink up at him.
“Oh, uh… excuse me?” You’re a little stunned- but Mingyu supposes that's what happens when a man appears out of thin air. 
“No, that was my fault,” Mingyu assures you quickly. “I uh… two left feet.”
“Right…” You look down, then back up at Mingyu, giving him a soft smile before stepping past him to continue on with your night.
Mingyu watches you in shock, then he pulls himself out of it, rushing to follow you. “I uh- I should make it up to you!”
“Don’t worry about it,” you wave a hand.
“But I do worry about it,” Mingyu insists, putting himself in front of you this time. “Here,” he conjures a flower from behind his back, holding it out to you, “Something to say sorry.”
You stop, staring up at him and then down at the rose. “You just happen to have that?” you ask quizically. “Were you trying to bump into me or something?”
“No, I just had the flower.” Mingyu would be sweating if he was a being who could sweat.
“Sure you did,” you laugh. “Look, I’m sure whatever girl you actually had that flower for would like it more than me.”
“I swear, it’s for you- look, forget the flower,” Mingyu tosses it onto the ground. “There must be some way I can make this up to you.”
“Dude, you bumped into me on the street, we’re good.” 
Mingyu doesn’t know what else to say, so he simply says, “Please?”
You let out a sigh. “If I give you my number, will you let this go?”
“Uh huh.”
“Do you have a pen?” 
Mingyu conjures one in his pocket, pulling it out to give it to you. When you take the pen, you grab his wrist, pulling his palm close so you can scrawl across it. 
The cupid watches your every action, etching it into his memory. You’re so lovely, your pretty pink aura wrapped around you like a warm halo. When he takes in a deep breath, he can smell the touch of roses in the air, a lover-girl scent-
“There,” you sigh, releasing his hand. “Now I really have somewhere to be.”
“Okay,” Mingyu murmurs, holding his palm close. “Have a good night.”
“You too, big guy,” you say, laughing to yourself as you brush past him.
It takes a moment for Mingyu to realize he never got your name and vice versa. He’s tempted to rush after you, only for a hand to clap down on his shoulder.
“Dude,” Chan grins, “that was embarrassing to watch. You have like, zero rizz.”
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Three - the date
Mingyu is doing his best. He’d texted you a safe amount to plan your date. He’d picked you up in an expensive car, held doors open for you, and now, you’re eating at one of the most expensive restaurants in the city.
Even so, Mingyu can tell that something is off with you. As you pick at the appetizer, Mingyu finally gets the courage to ask what’s wrong.
“You want the honest truth?” you laugh, leaning back in your chair.
“Always.” Mingyu puts down his fork and knife, focusing on you completely.
“I’m thankful for the date,” you start. “Taking me somewhere nice is really sweet of you and everything, it’s just… I don’t know. I think lots of men these days think all girls want is money. As nice as this is- as nice as your car is, and this restaurant, I don’t think I’m the kind of girl that fits with this vibe.”
“You’re not?”
You shake your head. “You’re clearly a guy that’s well off, and I’m happy for you about that, but… I feel like when guys take me to nice places, they always expect something in return. There’s this expectation that when money gets put down, the girl has to put out too, just… in other ways.”
“Other ways? Like what?”
You scoff, giving him a look. “You know what other ways.”
Except Mingyu doesn’t know, because he’s never actually been on a date, especially not with a human. He has no idea what sort of expectations are normal, especially in your mundane world. As a cupid, he sets up the matches, but he doesn’t really follow along with the journey and see what his marks get up to after being shot with his arrow. 
“Can I be honest too?” Mingyu asks after a moment of contemplation.
“Of course.”
“I uh…” He picks his words carefully. “I don’t really date often. So… whatever expectations you think I might have, just know that I don’t have any. I just want to get to know you. That’s it. I promise.”
You stare at him, and Mingyu gets lost in your eyes. He’s more than happy to wait patiently while you think of a response, it gives him time to appreciate your beautiful form-
“You’re serious?” you ask finally.
“Uh huh,” Mingyu nods. “You seem surprised.”
“I just... You’re all handsome and dressed well, and you have a nice car, and you’ve obviously got money- I just sort of assumed you were a sugar daddy or something. Someone used to taking girls out.”
Mingyu hates the use of the term ‘sugar daddy.’ It’s clear to him that Chan was right about the vibes of his clothing choices, and the cupid will admit that the car he conjured was maybe a tad too fancy. He’s been going about this all wrong, putting up a facade, creating a version of himself that he thought you would like.
Maybe Mingyu truly doesn’t know anything about you. He just hopes this misstep isn't enough to drive you away. 
“I’ve been single a long time,” Mingyu admits. “I guess, maybe I got wrapped up in doing the things I thought you would like. I figured most girls like to be wined and dined, but I never really asked you what you wanted to do. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“Can we start over?” Mingyu suggests.
You smile softly, nodding.
Mingyu thinks about it for a moment before he comes up with a question that he thinks could redirect this whole situation for the better. “If I could go back, and let you choose what type of date this would be, what would we have ended up doing?”
“I find that first dates where we can walk around and see stuff together are kind of nice,” you admit. “Formal things like this, face to face, over food- they kind of make me anxious. And lulls in the conversation are more obvious.”
You’re very right about that. Every long moment of silence has made Mingyu’s heart race, and he’s rushed to fill it with surface-level questions that never seemed to hit their mark. It’s interesting that he’s learning about dating from you. 
Mingyu has never realized how little he actually knows about the rituals of love.
“How do you feel about me covering the bill for our drinks and appetizer, then we can get out of here?” Mingyu suggests. 
“You don’t want dinner?”
“If you want food, I’ll get you food,” he tells you, “but it sounds like you’d rather be on a walk, so let's go for a walk.”
You offer him another soft smile, and Mingyu can see the way your pink aura flutters with interest. It’s the first time you’ve really glowed for him tonight, so he knows he’s headed in the right direction with this line of thought.
“A walk would be perfect.”
Half an hour later, the two of you are walking side by side through one of the small city parks. 
You were right about the awkward pauses disappearing. Conversation is flowing steadily, and Mingyu couldn’t be happier. You tell him about your job, your friends, the things you do that make you happy, hobbies that have stuck with you since you were younger. 
Mingyu is practically overflowing with questions now, and every response you give him is committed to memory. 
“It’s such a nice night,” you say wistfully, pausing to look up at the sky, which is visible through a clearing in the tree canopy.
“It is,” Mingyu agrees, taking a deep breath and simply enjoying the moment.
That’s when a familiar cupid flies across his view, and Mingyu’s heart lurches in his chest. 
“Should we sit down somewhere?” Mingyu asks, looking at a bench a short distance away. It’s next to a large Oak, and Mingyu hopes that the leaf foliage can give him some privacy with you, away from any curious eyes.
You nod, gently grabbing onto his arm as you begin to walk.
Mingyu’s breath catches at the contact, a jolt of energy running through his entire form. He can feel his heart lurching again, but this is a much more pleasant feeling than before. His throat is dry, and he swallows thickly to clear it, skin heating into something like a blush.
He’s happy you’re not seated across from each other in some stuffy restaurant. With the low light of street lamps that line the walkway, there’s no way you’ll be able to see the flush of his skin. As much as Mingyu is a love cupid, he doesn’t want it to be too obvious that he’s enraptured with you.
He’s terrified that anything he does could scare you off, and he’d hate himself if that ever happened. 
“Anyways,” you sigh as the two of you sit down, “enough about me, what about you?”
“Hmm?” Mingyu shuffles, turning to look at you only to find that you’ve angled your body toward him, your gaze fixed on his profile.
“What do you do for work?”
“Uh…” Mingyu doesn’t want to lie to you, but he can’t tell you the full truth either. “I’m a matchmaker, actually.”
“A matchmaker?” you repeat, surprise evident in the tone of your voice.
“Yeah. I set people up.”
“I didn’t know that was an actual job.”
“There’s lots of Korean Ajummas who want to set up their daughters or relatives with good men,” Mingyu explains, opting for a white lie. 
“I see,” you nod. “A matchmaker who doesn’t date.”
“Yeah…” Mingyu clears his throat again. “Would you believe me if I said I’m pretty good at my job?”
“Maybe,” you grin. “What makes you good at your job? If not experience in the dating arena.”
“I think I’ve just always been someone who reads people. Matching is in my blood- although, after my mess up on reading you, I’m starting to wonder how successful I’ve actually been.”
“You didn’t mess up that badly,” you assure him. “And when given the opportunity to correct your misread, you did. I’m having a really good time with you now that we’re on a walk.”
“You are?” Mingyu feels like jumping up and celebrating, but he holds himself down to earth. “I’m uh, I’m having a really good time with you too.”
Instead of responding, you simply lean your head onto his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh of contentment. 
The cupid holds very still, not wanting to move a muscle in the fear that you’ll pull away.
“Do you have any family?” you ask.
“A few brothers,” Mingyu responds.
“Are you close?”
Mingyu laughs. “With some.”
“Family can be an interesting experience,” you muse.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Mingyu admits, looking out at the dark field in front of you, where Chan does another fly-by. 
 “I hate to say this, but I have an early morning work thing,” you sigh. “I should probably be getting home.”
“Wanna go back to my car at the restaurant? I can drive you.”
“My place actually isn’t that far from here, I was thinking I might just walk… but then again,” you let out a laugh, “these heels are kind of killing my feet.”
“What if I carry you home?”
You pull away from his shoulder, giving him a doubtful look.
“You don’t think I can carry you?” Mingyu asks in shock.
“It’s not that-”
“Come on,” Mingyu gets to his feet. “Get on my back,  it will be fun, I promise.”
You give him another unsure look, but finally you stand too. Mingyu turns around, bending so you can jump onto his back. The moment you’re pressed against him, he feels like he’s in heaven. He can feel your breath along the back of his neck, and it sets every inch of him on fire.
“Hold on,” he tells you, enjoying the way you wrap your grip tighter around his broad shoulders, locking your fingers together by his chest.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you admit with a shaky laugh.
“You trusted me,” Mingyu says, “and I’m not going to let you down… until we get to your apartment.”
You giggle again, and the sound is music to his ears. 
“You’re crazy,” you tell him, and yet, your aura is buzzing so bright it nearly envelopes Mingyu with how tightly you’re pressed together.
“Something tells me you don’t mind.”
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Four - the fuck up
“You know what you said about zones the other day?” Chan asks while he and Mingyu sit on the ledge of a tall building, looking down at the humans below.
“Yeah?”
“You said that cupids stick to their zones, right?”
“Yup.” Mingyu’s so annoyed by Chan he could scream. They’re supposed to be looking at auras, looking for a target for the day, but Chan’s head is off in the clouds-
“Okay, I just wanted to be sure.”
Mingyu lets out a deep breath, turning to look at Chan. “What was the point of those questions?”
“Just that… well, that’s Seokmin, isn’t it?” Chan points, and Mingyu follows his line of sight. Low and behold, Seokmin is flying two city blocks away, and it looks like he’s trailing something.
“We’re on the zone border,” Mingyu explains, but as he gets a bearing for the auras below, one stands out to him. “Shit.” 
“I didn’t know you could cuss, grandpa,” Chan laughs, but Mingyu’s already pushing off from the ledge, his large wings unfurrowing so they can beat at the air, carrying him quickly toward the other cupid, leaving Chan in his dust. “Wait! Slow down!”
But Mingyu can’t slow down, because if he’s correct, it looks like Seokmin is trailing a very familiar pink aura that weaves amongst the muted people below. 
Mingyu’s wings are large. They’re the largest of any of the cupids, and yet, as Seokmin draws his arrow, it’s clear that Mingyu’s superior size and speed won’t help him make it to his brother in time.
“Seokmin!” he yells, catching the man’s attention just as he lets his arrow fly.
Mingyu comes to a halt in the air, breath caught as he watches the arrow. It feels like everything is in slow motion, the arrow speeding through the sky toward you-
But then, it’s as if the arrow hits your aura and the pink hue acts as some sort of protective shield. The arrow falls to the ground, bursting into flower petals that melt away into the sidewalk.
“What the fuck?” Chan has caught up to Mingyu, and his words ring true to the situation. “Did Seokmin’s arrow just miss?”
“My arrows never miss!” Seokmin insists, fluttering over. 
“But that one did,” Chan points out.
Seokmin’s eyes are wide with shock. “It didn’t! It was going to hit her!”  
Chan rolls his eyes. “But it didn’t hit her!” 
Mingyu can’t even speak. His gaze is fixed on you. The arrow missed, but you’ve come to a stop in your tracks, as if you could sense the close call you’d just somehow evaded. 
“What are you two doing here anyways?” Seokmin glares. “You distracted me.”
“That’s Mingyu’s girl,” Chan responds nonchalantly.
“Who is?”
“The chick you just tried to shoot!” 
Mingyu respects that Chan is getting so worked up about this, it’s kind of like the new cupid is trying to protect Mingyu and his love life endeavors. 
“Wait, that’s the girl Mingyu likes?!” Seokmin bellows.
“That’s the girl he loves!” Chan insists. 
“Can you both just- be quiet for a minute!?” Mingyu can’t deal with their arguing anymore, not when you’re so much more interesting.
He watches you pull out your phone-
“Do arrows even work on her?” Chan asks. “We all saw that right? It like… bounced off her aura?”
“They should work on everyone,” Seokmin responds quietly. “I mean, your arrow worked on Mingyu, for Venus’s sake.”
Mingyu’s phone rings in his pocket, the pocket he’d had conjured into his toga just to hold a line of communication with you. The other cupids turn to watch Mingyu as he lifts the human device to his ear. “Hello?”
“Hey you.” Your voice is a little off. “You busy?”
“No,” Mingyu blurts out dumbly.
“Okay, good. Uh… I wasn’t sure if I should call or text-”
“Calling is good,” he assures you.
“That’s good to know.” You let out a small laugh, tucking in closer to the building and away from the busy street traffic. “It’s the weirdest thing, but you just popped into my mind. I guess, usually I let guys ask me out for a second date, and it’s only been two days since I saw you last, but I sort of just thought fuck it, I’d call you.”
Mingyu doesn’t even know how to respond. His mind is running a million miles a minute. 
“Mingyu?” you ask. “Are you still there?”
“Sorry, yeah.”
“So… do you want to see each other again?”
“Absolutely.” 
“Good!” 
Even from a distance, Mingyu can see the way you light up, the way your aura twinkles with pretty pinks and magentas. “When… when are you free?” he asks, dazzled dumb by your beauty.
“This sounds crazy, and I get it if you’re busy, but… are you around?”
“Yeah?”
“Could we meet in an hour?”
“Yeah, I’ll uh…” Mingyu has to physically give his head a shake to speak coherently, “I’ll come pick you up.”
“Can’t wait,” you smile. “Bye, Gyu.”
“Bye.”
You hang up, but Mingyu still feels frozen. It takes a moment before he’s able to pocket his phone.
“Dude, you’re still so lame when you speak to her,” Chan muses, nudging his mentor with a grin.
“We just watched her somehow block a cupid’s arrow,” Mingyu snaps, “excuse me for needing a minute.”
“Mingyu?” This time it’s Seokmin speaking, and Mingyu hates the way he immediately flashes a glare at his brother. “Sorry, it’s just… what’s that on your wrist?”
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Five - the red string
Mingyu can’t seem to take his eyes off the red string around his wrist. He picks at the fine threads as he waits in his car for you to come down from your apartment. In fact, he’s so focused on the mysterious new bracelet that he forgets to get out of the vehicle to open your door for you.
When you open your own door it causes him to jump, heart lurching in fright- then he remembers where he is, and he’s quick to pull the sleeve of his sweater down, hiding the red string. “Hi,” he says, forcing a smile.
“You okay? I didn’t scare you, did I?” you grin, getting into the car.
“Sorry, I was just lost in thought. Where, uh… where do you wanna go today?”
“Well, I was going to let you choose, but I didn’t want to end up in a fancy restaurant again, so I was thinking something simple like coffee?”
“Coffee sounds nice,” Mingyu admits. “Any specific place you like?”
“There’s a cafe by the park we were at last time, I’ll give you directions.” You reach over, gently squeezing his thigh. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too,” he smiles, and this time, it’s not forced at all.
You make it to the cafe. After you order, Mingyu pays, and soon, the two of you are sitting in a cute little secluded booth in the corner. As you tell him about your day, Mingyu watches you take your jacket off. He admires your choice of clothes, the way the colours compliment your skin tone and the pretty pink aura you can’t even see. 
When you settle and reach for your tea, Mingyu notices something around your wrist, and he nearly chokes on his coffee. 
“You good?” you laugh, reaching out to touch his hand.
“Yeah.” Mingyu steadies himself. “Uh- what’s that red thread bracelet? I didn’t notice that on our last date.”
“Oh, this?” you look down at your wrist, lifting it a little. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“Trust me,” the cupid laughs, “nothing you say could ever make me think you’re crazy.”
You give him an assessing look, but finally give in with a sigh. “Okay, so basically, one of my close friends is a witch.”
“A witch?” 
“Still think I’m not crazy?”
“You’re not crazy, but I haven’t met this friend yet,” Mingyu teases.
“Anyways,” you take a deep breath, “she prays to Venus, and she swears on her life that Venus helped her meet her fiance. We had a bachelorette party about a week ago and she got all us bridesmaids these ‘Red Strings of Fate.’ It’s supposed to help us meet our own soulmates, or so she says.”
“Huh,” Mingyu sits back, resting his hands on the table. “I’ve never heard about ‘Red Strings of Fate.’” 
“Really? But… I mean,” your gaze dips down, “you’re wearing one too?”
Mingyu’s heart lurches, and he looks at his wrist, where the mysterious red string had appeared an hour ago. “Right…”
“Did you not know about that when you bought it? Or…?” You cock your head to the side, letting out a small laugh. “Honestly, when I saw you playing with that in the car when you picked me up, I’d kind of thought you’d gotten it to match mine.”
“I seriously didn’t even notice you had yours when we were on our last date,” Mingyu admits.
“Hmm…” Mingyu can see a glimmer of something behind your eyes, and then you grin broadly. “I guess maybe it’s just fate, huh?”
“Maybe,” Mingyu laughs.
“Where did you even gets yours?”
“It just kind of appeared,” Mingyu says honestly, only realizing what he’s said as the words leave his mouth.
“It just kind of appeared,” you repeat, looking very skeptical. Even so, you don’t question it, you simply lean back, your aura shimmering. “Guess it really is fate.”
Mingyu can’t even come up with anything else to say, so he takes a sip of his coffee.
“Listen…” you drum your fingers gently against the table, “I’ve been meaning to find a date for Luna’s wedding, but it can be hard to just run into someone you want to take to something like that. Then we quite literally ran into each other on the street, and now this whole string thing… if it’s not to soon, or too last minute, if you’d want to come to the wedding next week with me, I’d really appreciate the plus one.”
“Seriously?” Mingyu can’t believe his luck, can’t believe the cute determined set of your lips when you nod in the affirmative. “I’d love to go to this witch wedding with you.”
“As long as you don’t call her a witch to her face,” you laugh. “I think she prefers the term wicca.”
Mingyu makes a cross over his heart. “I won’t do anything to mess it up, I promise.”
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Six - the consensus
The council is silent after Seokmin and Mingyu’s testaments on the oddities related to you. The younger cupids look to the elders to come up with a consensus, and Seungcheol is the first to finally speak. 
“An arrow that didn’t strike, a red string, and a girl who thinks she’s a witch.” He lets out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess, Mingyu.”
Mingyu stays quiet, looking at his feet as he stands in the center of the council room, Seokmin and Chan on either side of him. 
For a new cupid who stands up to his mentor all the time, Chan is being oddly quiet today. He hasn’t said a word, not even when Seokmin and Mingyu were recounting the story of how your aura had seemingly repelled an arrow. Chan’s nervousness is making Mingyu even more anxious, although he’s not sure what he has to be anxious about.
“While I’m certain we all appreciate the report,” Jeonghan says, “this union between Mingyu and his human is ordained by Mother. There’s no use discussing this further.”
“She avoided an arrow. Aren’t you the least bit curious about how a mortal did that?” Wonwoo asks, leaning forward in his chair. It’s not usual for Wonwoo to speak, and the fact that he’s found this story of interest makes Mingyu’s skin tingle with more worry. 
Jeonghan makes a face, shaking his head. “No.” 
“I’m more focused on this witch,” Jihoon admits, trailing his fingers along his jaw. “Magic isn’t anything new, but I wonder if this friend’s ‘connection to Venus’ is what made our mother step in.”
“I’ve never heard of a ‘red string of fate,’” Soonyoung adds. “This all seems very suspicious. Chan, what do you think?”
Chan fidgets next to Mingyu. “Uh… me?”
“No, the other cupid named Chan.” Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “Yes, you!” 
“What do I think about what?” Chan asks dumbly.
Seungcheol sighs, Jeonghan snickers, and other cupids simply seem amused by the new cupid. 
“What do you think about all of this?” Soonyoung clarifies. “New age Venus witches and strings of fate?”
“I think…” Chan swallows, looking over at Mingyu. When he speaks again, Chan’s voice has gained confidence, and he squares his shoulders. “I think that this whole thing started when Jeonghan gave me mother’s directions to pair Mingyu up with the girl he’d been trying to match for a while. But even if I hadn’t been directed to do it, when I look at Mingyu and the human, their auras just match. I’ve never seen an aura like hers. The only aura close to it in colour is Mingyu’s. I don’t know anything about red strings of fate or witches, but I do know that nothing bad could come out of a match like this one. Or at least, that’s what my heart is telling me.”
The council is silent while they process the new cupid’s words. Mingyu can feel a warmth spreading through his chest. For a dude who’s been nothing but an annoyance and hindrance so far, Chan is growing on Mingyu.
“Chan’s right,” Seokmin says. “Her aura is just like Mingyu’s. If anyone deserves a chance to fall in love, it’s them.”
“When did you all become so sentimental,” Jihoon groans, but there’s something of a smirk under his unamused expression.
“Seokmin,” Seungcheol’s voice draws all eyes, “since you dragged yourself into this, I want you to go with Chan and Mingyu to the wedding. I trust your opinion more than Chan’s. And Mingyu, see what information you can get from the witch. Even if this is all orchestrated by mother, I want to know the ins and outs of what power this wicca believes she has.”
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Seven - the witch’s wedding
Mingyu hadn’t realized that being a plus one to someone in the wedding party meant that he’d be sitting alone in the venue while waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle. He doesn’t know anyone here except for Chan and Seokmin, who are floating around eying up the singletons. Mingyu had made them promise not to shoot too many people today, but there’s already been two meet-cutes and successful matches.
The love cupid is somewhat jealous of his brothers’ ability to work, their ability to form attachments while he’s made to sit and wait. To clear his mind, he fidgets with the red string on his wrist, hidden under his suit.
The red string has become somewhat of a soothing mechanism for the cupid. It feels tangible, in an odd sort of way. He enjoys the feeling as he gently drags it across his skin, looping it over and over again-
Music begins to play through the speakers, guests turn in their seats. A young flower girl walks up the aisle, the petals she’s tossing match the soft pink dress she’s wearing, and the tie around Mingyu’s neck. You’d shown up with the fabric when he’d come to pick you up, bashfully asking him if he wanted to match with you and the bridal party. 
It was a small exchange, but it had meant the world to Mingyu. He loves the fact that he’s matching with you and your friends, loves the fact that the bride had chosen soft pink as one of the color themes. 
After the flower girl, the bridesmaids begin to file in, arm in arm with groomsmen. Mingyu studies the auras, noting that many of the people in the party have pink tones to match their outfits. He likes seeing so many pinks in one area, it’s no wonder you talk so highly of your friends, you’re all pieces torn from the same cloth. Like him.
You step into view, and Mingyu can feel his heart beginning to race. You look stunning today, even more so than usual. The joy you feel radiates off of you, illuminating your aura with shimmery glitter. 
When you walk by, you meet Mingyu’s gaze, and he feels his grin widening. All the waiting has been worth it if even for that one smile, the brief eye contact-
Venus, he loves you.
Everyone stands when the bride enters. She’s dressed in a white laced gown, with flowers in her hair, and pretty rose quartz jewelry. There’s definitely something different about her, a richness and vibrancy to her aura that screams power. 
To Mingyu’s surprise, the bride meets his eyes as she walks past, offering a small tilt to her head before she continues up the aisle. 
Mingyu thinks about the small motion from the bride throughout the ceremony. 
He hasn’t met a real witch since the dark ages. People with a true connection to the gods are few and far in between these days. Mingyu wonders what kind of power your friend holds, and what it means in regard to him and the other cupids floating around.
Even with all these wonderings, Mingyu focuses on the example of love set before him. He listens to the vows, and the grandma next to him offers him tissues to wipe away his tears. The first kiss as man and wife makes Mingyu want to cheer with joy, his heart practically exploding in his chest.
He loves love. 
When the bride and groom exit, you stand by the podium, explaining that the reception will take place in a venue two doors down from the ceremony hall. Mingyu watches you hurry out after the bride before he slowly dispurses with the rest of the guests, the kind grandma who had given him tissues latched to his arm for support.
He’s unsure of himself when he reaches the reception. There’s an entryway station that details table arrangements. “What’s your name dear?” the grandma next to him asks, adjusting some glasses on the tip of her nose.
“I don’t think I’m on the list,” Mingyu admits, scanning the seating cards. 
He tells the old woman your name and she gives him an amused look. “A plus one to the bridal party,” she nods. “Table one.”
“And where are you seated?” the cupid asks. “I’ll help you there.”
After doing his duty with the old woman, Mingyu finds himself at a table full of pink-souled love birds. They’re all gushing about the ceremony, and are more than happy to welcome the cupid into the discussion. Mingyu’s never felt so immediately at ease, and you find him this way, laughing with his new group of love-obsessed peers. 
“Hi,” you whisper, slipping into the seat next to him. 
“Hey,” he smiles, about to turn and look at you- only for your lips to press to his cheek. Mingyu’s heart lurches in his chest, his body freezing for a moment before he’s able to look into your eyes. “What was that for?”
“I’m just happy you came,” you admit. 
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” Mingyu retorts, and he really does mean it.
Being with you is so easy. He’d fallen for your pink vibration, and now he’s falling for the auras that your friends exude too. 
Before Mingyu even knows it, your table is being called up for food. He sticks to your side like glue as you fill your plates, and when you begin to head back to sit down, the bride waves you over. Mingyu sticks to you even as you approach your friend, who stands from the newly wed table with a grin.
“So this must be the famous Mingyu I’ve heard so much about.” The witch grins. “I’m Luna.”
She holds out a hand, and Mingyu doesn’t even hesitate to take it. There’s an immediate jolt of energy that runs through him when their skin touch, and he swallows the lump in his throat. Luna meets his gaze with a steady smile.
“Y/N, would you be so kind as to get me a glass of wine from the open bar?” Luna asks.
“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” You squeeze Mingyu’s arm before darting away.
The cupid opens his mouth to say something, only for Luna to cut him off. “I can see your wings.”
“What?” Mingyu nearly chokes on air.
“And your friends flying around,” Luna’s gaze lifts, trailing Chan as he soars over the dance floor. “Three cupids, and yet you’re the only one with a vibrant pink aura. It’s the pretties I’ve ever seen, aside from Y/N’s, of course.”
“You really can see us,” Mingyu breathes. “My brothers, my wings, my aura-”
“I bet you thought I wasn’t a real witch, didn’t you, big guy?” Luna laughs.
“I mean…” Mingyu can’t even meet her eyes now, especially since she’s just used your petname for him. “Yeah. I didn’t think you were real.”
“Most people don’t think you’re real,” the witch retorts. “Cupids? In twenty twenty four? It’s kind of shocking, not to mention outdated.”
“We’re not outdated,” Mingyu goes to defend himself, but the look Luna shoots him makes his voice catch in his throat. 
“My first fiance was a bad match,” Luna says, capturing Mingyu’s full attention with the power of her tone. “Some white haired cupid shot me. I guess he figured I had a pink soul and this man had a red one so we’d even out. But we never did. It was bad. So bad that I started praying to Venus. When I got away from the guy, I was determined to find my next partner all by myself. A match based on actual connection. That’s how I met Jae.” Her gaze floats to her new husband, and an expression of love fills her features, her aura shimmering. “Listen. I know that you cupids try to do what you believe is right, but your matches don’t always work. That’s why I gave all my friends red strings of fate. To protect them from bad arrows… although, based off of the way you look at y/n, I’m pretty sure it’s not her who’s been shot.”
Mingyu can feel a lump in his throat. He can also feel a presence at his shoulder, and Chan leans forward to whisper, “Damn, dude, she read you for filth.”
Luna grins, looking at the new cupid behind Mingyu. “Stop shooting my guests.”
“You got it,” Chan agrees immediately. 
“Look, we don’t have much time,” Luna sighs, “but what’s the deal with this whole thing. How did you even get shot? Are you guys drinking on the job, or what?”
“Actually, Venus herself instructed I shoot Mingyu and make him fall for your friend,” Chan defends himself. “Although, he was pretty much already in love with her anyways.”
Luna’s eyes widen in shock. “Venus did this?” 
“Indirectly,” Chan nods.
“I don’t trust you guys, but I trust her,” the witch states. “I prayed to her that my friends find their soulmates, and now here you are.”
Could this really all be the witch’s doing?
Mingyu can hardly even think, he can only stand there dumbly, staring at Luna like she’s grown three extra heads and a beaver tail. 
“You have to tell y/n,” Luna says, reaching out to touch Mingyu’s shoulder. “You can’t lie to her about all of this.”
“I can’t tell her-” Mingyu tries to argue, but once more, his tongue gets caught.
“You will. And we’ll hang out again soon,” Luna insists, sounding so certain that for a moment, Mingyu wonders if she has the gift of future sight.
“Hey, you two,” you appear at Mingyu’s side, holding out a glass for the bride. “What did I miss?”
“Just your new boo being adorable,” Luna grins. “He’s a keeper, this one.”
“What?” You let out a laugh, looking between Mingyu and your best friend. “But… you usually hate the guys I go out with!”
“Well, I like Mingyu,” Luna shrugs. “Something tells me he’ll be around for a long time.”
With a lift of her glass, the witch goes to sit down with her husband again, leaving you and Mingyu shocked. As you head back to your table, you cling tight to his side. “What did you even say to her?” you whisper.
“I hardly said anything,” Mingyu admits.
“Was it an aura thing? Luna always says she can read auras-”
Mingyu nearly chokes on air and it makes you grip his arm tighter.
“It was an aura thing, wasn’t it?”
“Something like that.” Mingyu doesn’t want to get into auras with you. The witch had been pretty specific about him coming clean to you, but now is definitely not the right time. 
He’s very lucky that when you take your seats, a few of your friends immediately strike up a conversation. Mingyu hides behind the discussion, staying in the peripheries while he contemplates what his life has become.
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Eight - the time to come clean
If Mingyu had been obsessed with you before the wedding, things are now on an entire other level. After his run in with the witch, you’d invited Mingyu to come dance with you. Holding you close while a slow song played had made the cupid feel in a way he’s never felt. Then, when he’d taken you home, you’d kissed him at your door step.
He can still feel the ghost of your lips pressing across his own, and when he closes his eyes, he can imagine you’re still there with him. 
It’s been a distraction to say the least. Two days have gone by since that night, with you running through his mind like an olympic level track star. 
You’d invited him to come for a date at your place, offered to cook dinner, and Mingyu’s been practically holding his breath in anticipation.
He fiddles with the string around his wrist as he approaches your home, knocking lightly on the door. His breathing is shallow, and he gnaws on his lower lip while he waits.
Mingyu can’t even help himself when you open your door, he pulls you into an immediate hug, breathing in your scent and letting out a deep breath.
“Hey, big guy,” you laugh, cuddling closer, tucking your head under his chin. 
“Missed you,” Mingyu admits.
Your giggling continues. “Luna was right about you being a keeper, mister softie.”
You invite him into your home, giving Mingyu a tour. It’s hard for him to keep his focus on anything you’re saying though. You look adorably comfortable in your cute sweatpant outfit. He’s never seen you laid back like this before, and it feels like an honour that you’re trusting enough of him now to let him witness this side of you.
Soon, he finds himself in your kitchen, doing everything he can to help you prep the meal. 
If you’re the head chef, he’ll be your line cook, and be damned happy to do it.
Talking to you is just so easy these days, especially since Mingyu can monitor your aura to pick up on the topics that truly make your heart sing. He sticks to your hobbies, your friends, things that have you glowing. He enjoys when you ramble on, as it gives him a chance to stare at your lips and imagine them on his own once again.
After dinner, Mingyu treads carefully. He’s very conscious of the fact that he’s in your home, and he’d never want to overstep anything with you.
When you invite him to watch a movie, he sits a respectable distance, but when you ask him if he wants to cuddle, Mingyu can feel his resolve getting thin. 
He shuffles over to be the big spoon, watching you carefully get in position in front of him. You snuggle back, your bum brushing by the front of his blue jeans, and Mingyu’s breath catches. His hand finds your hip, keeping you still.
You look over your shoulder at him. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He swallows thickly. “I just uh… it’s nothing.”
There’s a knowing in your eyes, and your aura glimmers with a mischievous tint that Mingyu usually sees with Soonyoung and Jeonghan. 
You roll over,  facing Mingyu. Your gaze dips to his lips then back up again. “I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.”
“Yeah?” Mingyu’s voice cracks. “Thinking about what?”
“That wedding date was really nice,” you muse, reaching up to trace your finger along his jaw. “I asked a lot of you when I invited you to that, but you came through for me. Luna even likes you, and I don’t think you understand how rare that is.”
“I’m more than willing to please,” Mingyu admits.
“Oh, trust me, I know you are.” You let out a giggle, your aura practically humming with happiness. “I’ve also been thinking about that kiss.”
“Me too.”
“Yeah?” Your grin widens, and you tuck in closer to his chest.
“Can I… do you want me to kiss you again?”
“Mingyu,” you coo, “I thought you’d never ask.”
The cupid takes in a shaky breath, cupping your cheek and staring into your eyes before he closes the distance between your lips. The first kiss had been soft, and this one is just as gentle, however, as you slant your mouth against his own, it begins to last much longer than the first one had. 
You let out a small sigh, grabbing at the front of his shirt to drag yourself even closer. Your tongue darts out to lick at his lip and it makes Mingyu groan. His hand slips down to your hip, then the small of your back, pulling you the last few inches so you’re pressed to his chest.
Nothing has ever felt this good.
Mingyu’s spent his whole life matching humans, but now to be matched himself- there’s truly nothing like it in the whole world.
He gets lost in your lips, the way you let out more whimpers. He commits your sounds to memory, his fingers gently pressing at your skin. He’s doing his best not to be overbearing, he wants you to have all the control, and yet, he hopes it’s clear how much he wants you… how much he needs you, like the air he needs to breathe. 
Luckily for Mingyu, you don’t mind taking a bit of control. With an annoyed groan, you move to straddle him, forcing Mingyu onto his back while your knees press into the couch on either side of his hips.
Your hands find his chest, and you stare down at him.
You’re so beautiful it almost hurts.
“Is this okay?” you ask.
Mingyu can hardly find his voice, but he manages to let out a choked, “Yeah.”
You lean down, pressing your lips against him again. Your tongue tastes his own, and as he’s leaning up to deepen the kiss, you pull away. Your hand finds his jaw, pushing his head to the side so you can access his throat, where you pepper his skin. You lick at sensitive spots that have him shivering, grabbing at the couch for any grip that can keep him from floating away from how good this feels. 
Mingyu knows where this is going. He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, which presses up against blue denim. He can even feel the heat between your own legs, an unspoken need that’s only building with each passing second.
His heart thunders in his chest. He hates to do it, but he whispers your name, prompting you to slow down your movements.
“Yes, Gyu?”
“I need…” he swallows thickly, closing his eyes in concentration. “I need to tell you something.”
“Is now the right time?” you giggle, licking his sweet spot and making a shiver run through his entire form.
“I can’t- I can’t do this without telling you everything about myself.”
“Sounds serious.” You pull away, sitting up so you can look down at him with a frown. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m uh… really okay.” Mingyu does his best to steady his breathing, but with the view in front of him, it’s difficult. “I don’t even know how to tell you what I need to tell you.”
“Take your time,” you assure him, pressing your hand gently to his chest, palm over his heart. “I won’t judge you.”
“It’s not about judgment,” Mingyu sighs, placing his hand over your own. “I don’t know if you’ll even believe me. You’ll think I’m crazy or something.”
“Try me.”
Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I told you I’m a match maker.”
“Uh huh.”
“And that’s true- but… I didn’t tell you the extent of it.”
“The extent of it,” you repeat, and Mingyu can see you trying to figure out where he’s going with this.
“I really don’t know how to say this with you looking at me with your pretty eyes,” Mingyu groans.
“Here.” You lift your free hand, covering your face. “Is this easier?” your words are slightly muffled by your palm, and the goofiness of it immediately relaxes Mingyu.
“Actually, yes.” He can’t help but giggle, and you join in with him while he takes the moment to ground himself. “Okay so basically…” Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I’m a cupid.”
“Huh?” You still have your hand over your face, but it’s clear you’ve furrowed your brows in confusion.
“Luna can verify it. She’s a real witch, which…I was honestly kind of shocked at, and I’m a cupid, so if you don’t believe me about this, I get it, I really do. Listen- I was trying to match you with someone, and I just couldn’t do it. Then a cupid I was training shot me while I was looking at you, and long story short, Luna has a connection to Venus or something and Venus thought it would be a good idea if one of her sons actually fell in love, and now here I am, and it’s a mess, but… yeah.”
You’re quiet for a long moment. Your aura flutters with mixed emotions, and it makes Mingyu’s stomach twist into knots about how you’ll react.
“Can I look at you?” you ask finally.
“Sure.”
You remove your hands from your eyes, gnawing on your lip and tilting your head while you study him. “I want to see your wings.”
“You what?”
“If you want me to believe you, I think I should see your wings. You’re a cupid, right? So you must have wings?”
Mingyu considers it a for a moment. He’s never shown a human his wings before, but he’s also never fallen in love with one either. He lets out a deep breath. “Okay, but I have to be on top to show you.”
You’re quick to agree, and after a short shuffle, Mingyu finds himself kneeling between your thighs. You’re resting on your back, propped against a pillow, and you’re watching him carefully.
“I’m gonna take my shirt off,” he warns you, grabbing at the hem of his white v-neck.
You stay quiet, eyes taking in each inch of exposed skin as Mingyu slowly strips his torso bare. 
“I should tell you… I’ve been in human form when I’m with you. But when I show you my wings- when I go full cupid, you might not be able to resist me.”
You rake your gaze across his sculpted chest, enjoying the tanned skin, pretty pectoral muscles and washboard abs. “I’ve hardly been able to resist you like this,” you muse. “Dazzle me, Mingyu. I’m ready.”
The cupid takes a deep breath. When he exhales, he lets go of the walls he’s built up. He allows his full self to come into form, his large white wings taking shape behind him. When he’s human, he kind of forgets about the wings, they’re always with him, just not always physical. Now that they’re out, he can feel the temperature of your apartment, the slight cool sensation against his sensitive feathers.
Mingyu can’t help but stretch the appendages, allowing his full wing span to protrude outward from his back.
He hears a small squeak of surprise that escapes your lips, and you sit up immediately, clearly wanting a better look at the marvelous wings.
“Are you sure you’re a cupid and not an angel?” you ask, your gaze meeting his as your fingers extend to hook in the waistline of his jeans.
“I can be anything you want me to be,” Mingyu whispers.
You lick your lips, eying his wings again. “Are they sensitive?”
“More than you can imagine.”
“Can I… Can I touch?”
Mingyu stares at you for a second. No hands but his own have ever touched his wings. Cupid wings are sacred, like their bows and arrows. Mingyu doesn’t touch his brothers’ sacred things, and they don’t touch his.
But you’re not one of his brothers.
He slowly nods. He can’t find it within himself to give you a verbal confirmation, not when he holds his breath waiting for contact.
“I’ll be gentle,” you promise. It’s almost as if you can sense his hesitancy about this- although, from the tense way Mingyu’s holding his body, he supposes it’s no secret.
As one final show of trust, Mingyu adjusts his right wing, folding it around his body so you don’t have to reach so far. He watches you close the distance between your fingers and the white feathers.
When your digits make contact, a shiver runs through him. You’re quick to pull your hand away, eyes widening. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” Mingyu shakes his head, catching his breath. “I just… no one has ever touched my wings.”
“You really weren’t kidding when you said you haven’t dated a lot.”
“I’ve never dated,” Mingyu corrects the white lie from when he’d first met you. 
“Never?”
“Never,” the cupid confirms. “I’ve had… interactions with other immortals, but I never let them see my wings. You’re the first human to ever see me. Like this, and in all ways.”
Your aura beats with adoration for him, and the emotion written across your face doesn’t need to be said. 
You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so his lips press against yours. 
Mingyu flattens a palm against the arm of your couch to steady himself, half leaning over your form while the kiss deepens. 
You trail your hand from his neck to his shoulder, moving slowly and gently, another wordless communication. 
When you touch his wing again, it’s not sudden, instead, it’s anticipated, and Mingyu can’t help the groan of pleasure that escapes him.
Your fingers glide over a feather, tracing it. When you repeat the motion, Mingyu thinks he might faint from how good it feels.
“Oh my Gods,” Mingyu whimpers, breaking the kiss to pant heavily against your neck while you trail your lips along his cheek bone.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, big guy?”
“So good,” he admits, his jeans feeling painfully tight now.
It’s as if you can read him. As if he’s a book that you’ve memorized, dog earring your favourite things. Each touch has him enthralled by you, and each touch is perfection.
You drag your free hand along his chest, moving down-
His breath catches when you cup him through his jeans.
He must be as hard as a rock, and you trace the outline of his bulge, teasing your digits along the tip.
“Please-” Mingyu groans, hips thrusting of their own accord, looking for any friction he can find while you continue to stroke his wing.
“Tell me what you need,” you encourage him, applying more pressure to his cock. 
“I need…” the cupid’s throat tightens and the words get caught. There are so many things he needs, he just doesn’t know where to start. Mingyu takes a deep breath, smelling your growing scent of arousal. When he looks down, your aura is practically pulsing between your legs, and it draws all his attention. He licks his lips, feeling confident this time when he says, “I need to taste you.” 
“Then taste me,” you practically purr. 
Mingyu’s had his fair share of one night stands with sirens and demi gods and other beings of the like- he knows what he’s doing as he gets off the couch and sinks to his knees. 
He grabs at you, man handling you into a position that works for him before tugging off your sweat pants.
You release a giggle, leaning back against the couch cushions while he spreads your thighs. Mingyu looks up at you, meeting your gaze as he begins to kiss up your legs, taking his time to pepper your skin.
That pretty pink aura practically blinds him as he works his way closer and closer to where you need him most. He can see a wet patch along the fabric of your panties, and he can’t help but spread your legs open even more, leaning forward to press a kiss to your clit through the silky material.
You let out a sigh of happiness as Mingyu begins to lick and prod your panty clad core. He can taste you along the fabric and it’s driving him insane. 
His fingers squeeze your thighs, and he allows you to adjust one over his shoulder- then your toes brush past the base of his wing, causing him to moan loudly. You shiver from the vibrations of it, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. 
He eats you through your panties until you’re bucking against his face- until his cock is throbbing so hard he physically can’t wait any longer. 
Hooking his fingers in the fabric, he tugs your underwear down your legs, and then he’s burying his tongue in your core.
You release a squeal of delight, tightening your grip in his hair. You pull him even closer, wrapping your legs around his head as he licks your pussy like he’s never licked anything in his entire life.
The sounds you’re making now are better than all the angel songs Mingyu’s ever heard. He could listen to you whine and moan for the rest of his life.
“Fuck, just like that, oh my God- Gyu-” 
He wraps his lips around your clit and you whimper, pussy beginning to throb in preparation for the orgasm Mingyu can’t wait to drag out of you.
Your fingers tug on his hair, and the pain only makes him go harder. He sucks hard on your sensitive bud, flicking at it and groaning at your taste.
Mingyu’s eaten fruit from the Garden of Eden. He’s eaten fairy nectar and every mystical delicacy he could get his hands on. But nothing - nothing - has ever tasted the way you do. 
He could get drunk from your pussy- in fact, he already is. 
His mind is going hazy, words are losing their meaning. It’s as animalistic as Mingyu’s ever felt, he has two goals: the first, to make you cum harder than you ever have, and the second, to do it again, but with his cock.
“I’m gonna-” you whimper, rutting against his face. “Please, don’t stop-”
Your sounds get pitchier and pitchier until you let out a gasp. Your pussy clenches around nothing while he sucks on your clit, intent on drawing out your orgasm.
You begin to squirm and he holds you down with both hands, eating you out until you’re a moaning, shaking mess. 
When your grip loosens on his hair, he pulls away, looking up at you.
You’re an absolute vision. Your chest is heaving under your shirt, your lips puffy from kissing and biting. Your eyes are closed, head thrown back, body still twitching.
Mingyu wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, standing up. He undoes his jeans, pausing for a moment before pushing them down. “Still want this?” he clarifies.
You open your eyes, looking up at him with the most fucked out expression he’s ever seen. “If you don’t fuck me, so help me God, I’ll get Luna to cast a spell on you.”
Mingyu can only laugh. “Like… a love spell?” Mingyu asks as he pushes his pants and underwear down. “Because trust me, nothing in the world could make me more into you than I already am.”
“Is that so?” you grin, pulling off your shirt to join him in nudity.
“Uh huh. Which is why I can’t fuck you on this couch.” Mingyu reaches down, scooping you up into his arms. “Which way’s the bedroom?”
“Last door on the left down the hall,” you sigh, tucking close to his chest. 
You pepper his throat in kisses the entire way to your room, where Mingyu gently sets you onto the bed.
“Do we… should we use protection?” you ask.
Mingyu cocks his head to the side. “I can conjure my bow and arrow-”
You let out a laugh, your aura glimmering with amusement. “No, silly, I mean like condoms.”
“Oh…” Mingyu thinks about it for a moment. “Should we?”
“I mean… I’m on birth control…” you look him up and down. “Your magic cupid cock isn’t gonna outsmart the pill, is it?”
“That’s a good question.” Mingyu looks down at his rock hard length, wrapping a hand around it to relieve some of the pressure there.
“You know what? Fuck it.” You hold your arms open for him. “Just get inside of me.”
Mingyu laughs, getting onto the bed. He holds himself over you with an elbow pressed to the mattress, his free palm finding your abdomen. “I should work you open a little first,” he tells you, pressing his lips to your own. 
“I don’t mind a little pain.” You reach for his cock, stroking the precum on the tip and tracing the length of it.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Mingyu admits. “Ever.”
You don’t respond, you simply kiss him deeper. Mingyu takes this as a confirmation to drag his fingers down to your core. He starts with his middle digit, teasingly pushing it in and out of your wet hole.
You pump his cock while he works you open, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep him on the edge. He adds a second finger and you mewl desperately against his lips, hips rutting to match his pace.
You’re practically drenching his hand. At this point, he knows you could take him- he just wants to see how much you’ll allow before your beg for it. 
Mingyu loves playing with you like this. He enjoys the act of love making, and he’s in no rush- although, his cock is starting to be something near painful with the amount of blood that has him standing at attention.
“Gyu…” you whimper, pumping him even harder. 
It’s clear you’re about to beg- but he can’t stand to actually have you do it. He gives in immediately, pulling his fingers from your core. He brushes your hand away from his length, lining himself up with your pussy.
Mingyu presses his lips to yours as he pushes inside, moving slowly so you can adjust to inch after inch of his girthy cock.
You grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself, gently digging your nails into his skin. No matter how hard you try, Mingyu doubts you could actually draw blood, and what might be painful to a human is nothing more than an annoying tingle, but it’s hardly a distraction from the feeling of your pussy swollowing him up.
He can’t help the groans that leave him as he kisses you, finally flush with your body. Your walls throb around him, adjusting to the intrusion. 
“Mingyu,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Please-”
He begins slowly. Mingyu’s not sure how fragile humans truly are, and he doesn’t want to fuck you so hard that your back breaks. Instead, he takes his time, adding more and more speed and power. He notes your reactions, notes what makes you squeal.
When he’s satisfied with a particular whimper, he stays doing what motion had earned the sound. The whole bed is rocking from his thrusts, and you’ve turned into a moaning mess for him again- but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Shit, you’re so good-” you gasp, breaking the kiss to lick at his throat, circling his sweet spot while he fucks you into the mattress.
Mingyu can’t help himself, he grabs one of your hands, lacing your fingers as he fucks you. There’s something intimate about the hand holding- and when he looks up, he realizes it’s the hands that have red strings on their wrists. 
However, as he fucks you even faster, he notices the strings aren’t simply their own bracelets anymore- they’re somehow intertwined. 
Mingyu can’t bring himself to think about it too hard, not when your wriggling under him, your wet pussy engulfing him with each thrust-
Your free hand reaches around his back, fingers brushing over a feather, and Mingyu almost cums right then and there.
“Fuck-” he whimpers. “If you do that again, I’m gonna-”
“Cum with me,” you whisper. “Please, I’m so close- if you fill me up, I just know I’ll get there.” 
You stroke another feather and Mingyu’s entire body twitches, his muscles tensing with pleasure. 
“Please, Mingyu!”
You’re on the verge of tears, and when Mingyu looks down at you, he’s completely overtaken by how much you’re glowing. He’s never seen a human aura glow like yours- and now, you look absolutely godly beneath him.
One more stroke of his feathers has Mingyu groaning loudly. He buries his face in your neck, squeezing your hand as he pushes his cock as deep inside of you as it can go. He can feel each heavy beat of his heart as he fills you with rope upon rope of cum-
Your pussy clenches tightly around him, and from the way you’re moaning in his ear, he knows you’ve reached your high too.
All you can do is hold each other, breathing each other in while you get lost in a pleasure that could never be topped. 
He’s in love with you, body and soul.
Mingyu’s not sure how long he cums, all he knows is that he’s practically spent as he comes down from the high. He’s breathing heavily, you both are, and he stays on top of you while you ground yourselves again.
You begin to stroke the back of his neck, and Mingyu takes this as a cue to put some distance between your chests so he can get a good look at you.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Better than okay,” you muse with a lazy grin. “And Gyu?”
“Yeah?”
“As crazy as this is… I love you too.”
It takes a moment for Mingyu to realize what you’re saying, because he hasn’t directly said those words- and yet, he’d betrayed himself multiple times without even realizing it. He’d mentioned getting shot with an arrow, Venus wanting a son to fall in love. He’d even said that no love potion could make his feelings stronger than they already are. 
Mingyu had been so lost in you that he hadn’t even known that all of his walls had come crumbling down. 
There’s no secret he’ll ever be able to keep from you, and that’s clear now.
But there’s no secret he’d ever want to keep from you.
You’re his other half. His pink aura baby. And staring down at you in the aftermaths of the best sex of his life, Mingyu knows that whatever happens, you’ll be his soulmate till the day he ceases to exist.
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Nine - the note
Hi, gorgeous. I’m sorry you have to wake up alone. Duty calls. I’ve got council meetings this morning that I can’t miss. But we’re connected now. One tug on your red string and I’ll know you’re trying to connect. There’s no where in your world or mine that I could go where you can’t reach me. I love you. I’m here for the long run. If you want, I can see you tonight. Give the string three tugs anytime after noon, and I’ll be there faster than you can even imagine.
Hugs & kisses
Love,
Cupid
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☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! Happy (belated) Valentine's Day to all us Gyu obsessed hotties
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. You’re practically drooling as Mingyu shrugs the fabric off of his body, revealing a form that was literally sculpted by the Gods. You could stare at him forever and never get bored. He’s the sexiest person you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, earning a loud groan, you know that he’s all yours.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu loves pussy, oral (m/f receiving), big dick Mingyu, pussy eating, blow job, hand job, deep throating, face fucking, touching cupid wings as a sexual stimulus, female masturbation while giving a blow job, fingering, squirting, pussy stretching, praise, etc…   I petnames. (hers) gorgeous. (his) big guy.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k I teaser wc. 150
🌙 starring. Mingyu x afab!Reader
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bonus
It’s Valentine’s Day and you wake up alone, and yet, you don’t really mind.
In the few months you’ve been dating your Cupid, he’s stepped up his game when it comes to checking in on the matches he’s made. As he’s become closer with Luna, and heard her failed love story, Mingyu’s been increasingly diligent on all things human relations.
He’s left a note for you on your pillow, as he does every morning he has to work instead of waking up with you. 
You read it with a smile, enjoying all the hearts he’s drawn across the lined paper. 
You don’t mind spending the first part of your Valentine’s Day alone. Three rough tugs on the string around your wrist would draw your lover back, but you figure his job is important today of all days.
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🔮 see what’s already available to read on my m.list
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general taglist
@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling
@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 
@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii
@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven
@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf
@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee
@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy
@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono
@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas - @aaniag
svt taglist:
@rebeccasficrecs - @alltowoo - @taestrwbrry - @greysdarling
@joonsneptune - @candidupped - @cheolussy
@yourfavoritefreakyhan - @asjkdk
thanks to those who interacted with the teaser:
@mykye - @kyungsooislifeu - @chriscentric - @babieculture
@bobathi - @143won - @blamemef0rit - @nanawrlds
2K notes · View notes
martiniluvr · 2 months
Note
dick needs more love like hello??
facesitting with dick and he's super onto it. he's drooling. and reader's thighs are trembling and she tries to move off b/c of the overstim but he holds her down firmly and just devours her.
I also feel like he cold cum just from eating her out like that.
the squeezing of her thighs, her shuddering breath and pleas and the dirty sounds from his tongue 🫠
anon….wow. I…I need to lie down. this is sooooo canon in my dick grayson is a munch agenda like yeah. that man lives and dies by the kitty. u literally get it. wow.
18+ minors dni
★・・・★・・・★・・・★
dick grayson can barely believe he’s talked you into this, but he’s not about to complain. you’re kneeling over his face with your hands planted on the headboard, biceps trembling as you try to keep yourself upright. his strong arms are clamped around your thighs, pinning you to him as his mouth works your sensitive cunt ravenously, drawing out a shaky whine from you. you try to wriggle away, which earns a scornful laugh from between your legs. god, why did he wait so long to ask you to do this?
he pulls you in even closer, sucking your tender clit with a gravelly moan. the vibrations send a shiver over your skin, and you instinctively buck your hips again, gasping loudly. dick looks up at you, his blue irises razor-thin around his blown-out pupils; you look fucking incredible like this. he doesn’t know whether to focus on the way you taste, or how good your tits look from this angle, or the pornographic sounds you’re making; all he knows is his cock is twitching at the mere sight of you, and he’s not sure he can keep this up for long.
he feels your slick dripping down his chin and jaw as he continues licking you hungrily, your pleas for him to slow down only encouraging him further. one of his hands comes around to grope your ass, coaxing you to grind yourself against him, and you let out another cry as his tongue spreads you open. your thighs begin to shake as his movements grow more urgent, and you try to pull away from his grip. not a fucking chance, baby.
his hands lock you into place, and his pace increases yet again as he groans into your pussy, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels his release creeping up on him. you dig your nails into the headboard, whining his name in a meek plea for mercy, but to no avail; the sound of his mouth against your wetness, the needy moans coming from beneath you, his large palms on your ass—it proves all too much, and your orgasm tears through you as your arms give out. your hands brace the mattress beneath you as you shudder, your fluids leaking out onto dick’s lips as your thighs squeeze his head lightly.
the feeling of your muscles tightening around him as your wetness coats his face is all it takes for the coil in his abdomen to snap; his cock twitches as his release spurts out onto his stomach, and he whines against your pussy, his head spinning. his grip on your thighs goes slack, and you shuffle back slightly so you can look down at his glistening face. a satisfied expression is plastered on his features, and his eyes are half-lidded as he licks the remnants of your climax off his bottom lip. you try to move off him, but his arms tighten around you again, a hungry smirk on his face. what makes you think he’s finished?
2K notes · View notes
a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
Note
Heave you done hcs with Wifey scratching/touching Alastor’s ears/tail?
I HAVE NOW??
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Suggestive
Description: ☝️⬆️
Alastor only trusts his wife to mess with his ears and tail, everyone else would lose a hand if they tried, some people actually have
But with you, it's different, he's comfortable with you and doesn't mind letting you see all his different reactions
Will actually seek you out on certain days, laying himself in your lap and hoping you'll get the hint
You know exactly what he wants but it's more fun if you pretend you don't, patting his head before going back to your book
"Long day, my dear~?"
He let's out a small bleat, his ears twitching upwards in an effort to draw your attention to them
"Better now that I'm with you..."
You don't even glance at his ears, nor do you look at his tail when he suddenly stretches out like a cat and wiggles it
Don't make him say it, it's embarrassing
Alastor let's out another bleat and stares at you pitifully, making you hum and hover your hand over his head
He happily meets it and rubs his head against your hand, letting out a happy sigh as your fingers graze along his ears
You can't help but laugh at him a little, rolling your eyes as you rub and scratch behind his fuzzy ears
"You could've just asked me~"
He's gone lax on top of you, his tail swaying as the rest of him lays in a daze
"Hn... too embarrassing..."
His eyes are closed, head tilting to get you to scratch at a different angle as he practically drools in your lap
Once he's asleep, you lean down to kiss his ears and watch them twitch from the soft touch
He's such a cute man
His tail is a slightly different story, he covers it for a reason and finds the area to be very sensitive
His tail is far more expressive than his ears, and you use it against him whenever you can
So usually, when you're touching it, it's to rile him up or let him know just what he's in for later
He's taken off his jacket and is distracted by whatever he's working on? His tail slowly swaying as he hums to himself with his back turned to you?
How are you not supposed to mess with his tail when he leaves it out like that???
You saddle up next to him, kissing his cheek and neck affectionately as your hand creeps it's way down his back
"Darling, just what has gotten into you~?"
His tone is playful, tilting his head to give you more access as he wraps one arm around you to keep you from pulling away
Your other hand plays with one of his ears, leaning up to kiss the tip of it before whispering in his ear
"Nothing yet~"
Your words paired with the fact that you're twirling his tail in your fingers makes his entire body go hot
His ears stick up straight, and he drops what he's holding, giving you a wobbly smile as he tries to compose himself
"You are an insatiable woman!"
You just smile at him sweetly and keep rubbing his tail, the traitorous thing wagging from the attention as a pleased shudder runs through the rest of his body
It's all he can do to suppress a groan, giving you a dangerous look but not trying to stop you
"Upstairs. Our bedroom. Give me two minutes."
You can't help but laugh and give him one last kiss before sauntering out of the room, eager to do as Alastor says
You stop at the doorway, looking back to give him a look that would scare most people but instead turns Alastor on
"Don't keep my waiting, Alastor~ Or I'll come back and bite those cute ears of yours~"
His ears and tail both stick up straight, frantically putting away his little project and scrambling after you
Don't threaten him with a good time
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I'm a sucker for teasing this man 😭
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luveline · 2 years
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𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary You're having trouble sleeping and pot seems like the only solution. Good thing your dealer, Eddie Munson, knows of another method that he's willing to to teach you. You get more than you bargained for when he tells you what he gets off to every night - you. [8.8k]
warnings 18+ only smut, fem!reader, eddie teaches you how to masturbate, p in v sex, light praise kink, mutual pining/lusting, lots of kissing, dirty talk, weed ment, aftercare, they are not so secretly infatuated with one another, eddie is a soft dork but also dirty <3 r implied as dressing very femininely
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Eddie kneels outside his trailer. 
You stop at the lip of the grass and wonder what he's doing. His back is to you, covered by a band shirt familiar even from this angle and riddled with rips and moth holes. You're about to call out to him when he speaks. 
"You're hot, huh, sweetheart?" Softer than you've ever heard him. "Why don't you go inside? Escape the heat, yeah?"
You approach slowly, footfall smothered by the lush green underfoot. He's scratching behind the ears of a tabby cat. 
"It's so hot out! The sun's gonna cook you," he says, whisper-shouting.
Like the tabby can understand what he's saying it stands, stretches tall and then slinks off into the trailer. "Good girl," Eddie says, standing up. 
"Are you collecting strays?" you ask lightly. 
He turns to you, surprised but not scared. "Don't worry, you're still my favourite." 
Good girl. His words ring loud between both ears. "I'm not a stray." 
"Uh-huh. What's my shy girl want today?" You spin on your heel and Eddie starts laughing. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Come on, you'll like what I have!" 
"You know I can't talk to you when you get like this," you tell him, pouting from over your shoulder. 
He pushes a mess of black curls behind his ear and beckons you forward. "Come on," he says, sing-song. "Let daddy set you up."
"Jesus Christ," you mutter, following Eddie into his house unhappily. 
You hate when he gets in this mood, not because he's ever really made you uncomfortable, but because you like to be teased, and he knows it. Or he likes watching you squirm. Either way, it's dangerous territory. 
"How much did you want?" he asks. 
The cool inside of his trailer is a blessing. You hold your naked arms away from your skin and try to take a deep breath of cool air. "I have thirty dollars. So… however much that is." 
"Babe, what the fuck do you want so much for?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder at you incredulously. 
You follow him into his room. "Do you not have it?" you ask, tracing posters you've seen upwards of ten times by now. Eddie's a good dealer – reliable, sweet, and prone to freebies without any pervy requests in place. 
He once swapped you an eighth for a cheap charm bracelet. He wears it now, the silver delicate and entirely too sweet for his metalhead appearance. It looks good on him, anyhow. 
He pulls open the usual lunchbox you hadn't noticed sitting on one of his amps and pulls out more pot than you've ever seen at one time. "Don't I?" 
"Woah."
"Uh-huh. Ern't she preddy?" he asks in a drawing southern accent. 
You hold out your hands and he lets you take it. When you open the zip lock bag, the smell isn't awful. The buds are thick with green fuzz, and your eyes water. 
You pass it back to him. "How much can I have for thirty?" 
"For you? Half." 
"Don't do that, Eddie. Gimme what you'd give anyone else." 
"But you're not anyone else, babe. You're my favourite customer." 
"I'm gonna put you out of business," you say, lightly chiding. "Can I sit down?" 
He hums and nods and you sit cross legged at the top of his bed. His bed sheets are pushed away and the space is cold. His pillow under your hand is colder. 
Eddie doesn't bother weighing it. You roll your eyes at him but also feel amazingly happy, because it's a lot of pot for not a lot of money, because his favouritism speaks for what you hope might be a small crush. Still, when he passes you the new bag you feel guilty. 
"Eddie, I can't take that. I know that's more than thirty." 
His eyebrows jump. "I don't care. What's the point in doing this if I can't give pretty girls a little something extra?" 
"I don't know. To make money?" 
He holds out the bag. You don't take it. "Fine," he says, sighing.
"Thank you." You watch him fish three or four bigger buds out of the bag. He presents you with a much more reasonable amount, his hands stained with the smell. "Thank you," you say again.
"Yeah. Wanna stay and watch a movie?" 
You've known Eddie since middle school. Classmates, not really friends, not not friends, though ever since you've started buying a small kinship has blossomed between you. 
"What movie?" 
"Whatever you want." 
You nibble the inside of your lip. "You'll roll up for me?" 
"Sure will." 
So you end up on Eddie's couch with the tabby cat that isn't his purring heavily on your lap as he rolls a couple of joints for you. You won't smoke anything until tonight so Eddie drops them into your newly acquired ziplock bag with papers and the leftover bud. 
He sniffs. "So, you're not sleeping?" he asks knowingly, straightening out with a groan and disappearing out of view into the kitchenette. You're a total overthinker. Pot helps you calm down.
"I'm sleeping." 
"After toking up." 
"There's…" You scratch the vibrating cat behind its ears, frowning to yourself. "Worse things to do." 
"Better ones, though. Hey, do you want a drink?" 
You say no and he brings you a glass of water anyways. His hands smell strongly of hand soap and faintly of weed as he passes it to you. You take it carefully, wary of disturbing your cuddle partner. 
"Like what?" you ask.
"Cranking one out, for starters." 
You wince, afraid to bring the lip of the glass to your mouth in case you choke on it. "Anything else?"
"Running?" Eddie suggests, sitting with you but leaving a more than comfortable gap between your legs.
"Not my thing," you murmur. 
It's weird, but anything above murmuring feels like shouting in the calm of his home. The movie plays on the TV and the cat purs, Eddie spreads his legs out and slouches into the cushions, his face surrounded by dark hair. He smiles at you like he always does, amicable if slightly flirty. 
"Maybe pot is your only option," he says mournfully. He pulls a lock of hair in front of his face and his eyebrows pinch together. "Make sure you brush your teeth after though. Or you'll get bad teeth."
"Bad teeth?" 
"Smoking ruins your pearls." 
You put down your glass of water and weave your fingers into the cat's rough fur. Eddie is really nice. Really really nice. And he probably likes you, so… what's the worst that could happen, by asking? 
I'm only asking, you decide. 
"Eddie," you say softly, disrupting a big tobacco rant that he'd started. "What- when you say cranking one out, that's-" 
"You know." He holds his hand above his crotch and squeezes the air. You feel a terrible heat start to collect in your abdomen. "Five to one? Uh- Nulling the void?" He grasps for words at your lost expression. "Making soup?" 
His voice goes high. You think he's as embarrassed as you are, and you're not gonna ask again. You giggle. "Oh, right." 
He drops his hand heavy against the seat of his pants and leans back. "Crank one out and sleep like a log." 
"That works for you?" you ask tentatively. 
"Every night." 
You sink down into the couch and hide your face in cat fur. Eddie starts asking about how your job is, a genuine, earnest interest that further cements your next decision. You clear your throat. 
"Eddie, can I ask you something?" He grins and waves his hand. "When you," you wince, "'make soup', do you just- how do you…" You slink down so far you're almost falling off of the couch. "How do you make yourself-" You gesture to your pelvis and then screw your hand into a fist, self-conscious.
He blinks. "Finish?" 
You look at the chain around his neck rather than his face. "Yeah." 
"Are you asking me because you want to know how I do it, or because you don't know how to do it to yourself?" 
You rub your cheek with your shoulder. "The second option." 
"Shit," he mutters. 
"Sorry, you don't have to- I just thought-" 
Eddie sits up. He looks more serious than he had before but not any less patient, elbows braced on his knees and head propped up in his hand. He parts his fingers over his lips. 
"You don't know how?" he asks. 
"I must've missed that lesson in sex ed," you try to joke. It comes out awkward. Eddie laughs anyways, a huff of breath. 
"Lucky you, I've sat through sex ed three times." He grins brilliantly, but his joking tone softens when he sees your hesitant expression. "If you wanna know, I'm happy to tell you." 
"Are you sure?"
"We're friends, right? What are friends for?" You don't miss the sarcastic twist to his words or his ironic smile. 
Friends like you and Eddie likely aren't meant to be giving one another lessons on masturbation. But really, he's the only person you know who you could ask and wouldn't feel totally looked down on. Eddie's nice to his core, but better – he doesn't judge. 
You struggle to know what to ask. 
The cat chooses this moment to wake and jump off of you, strutting out of the trailer's open door and back into the sunlight without so much as a grateful look back. 
And now you're alone with him. 
"How's your anatomy?" he asks. You shake your head slowly. "You know, grade wise? Are we passing? B? B-? C?" 
"I don't know what you're talking about, Munson." 
"Do you know what's what?" he asks concisely.
You sit up and press your knees together, suddenly very aware of your 'anatomy'. "I think so." 
He purses his lips for a few seconds before shrugging. "Alright. We can work with that." Eddie pushes his cheek into the couch and looks at your face unflinching as he says, "You know what your clit is?" 
You cringe. Full body. 
Eddie shrugs. "What? That's what it's called. You don't have to be embarrassed about it." 
"I know what it is." 
"And you can't make yourself-" 
"No." 
He doesn't miss your frustration. "Hey, hey, it's fine. Some people think that it's, like, a magic on-button, but it's not. There's a whole process." 
"How do you know?" you ask genuinely. 
His answering smile is wolfish. "I'm in a band, babe. Fucking a guitarist is like, a bucket list thing or some shit. Girls will tell you exactly what they want if you're willing to listen." 
Something about his knowing look has your heart skipping a beat. Maybe two. He pushes his hand across the couch and you're not sure if it's on purpose or accident, only that he's leaning in, a small smile on his face. 
"And I'm a damn good listener." 
You meet his eyes and know what he's offering. He waits, ring heavy fingers splayed wide in the space between you. It's the sight of them – thick, long and adorned in string-wrought calluses – that tips you over the edge. 
He's already pulling back with a reassuring smile on his face, lips parted to likely say something too nice when you interrupt him. 
"Will you teach me?" you ask quietly. 
A split-second of surprise is quickly overtaken by enthusiasm. "You're not high, are you?" 
"No." 
He gets up to close the door and starts for his room. You linger on the couch uselessly and he doubles back, hand on the wall. "Are you coming?" 
The noise from the TV fades as you walk down the hall and into his room. Your socked foot nudges into a tower of books close to the door and you reach out to steady them. Eddie pulls the sheets back into place and flicks on the lamp. He pauses by the stereo before turning that on, too. 
A song you don't recognise starts to play. Eddie climbs up onto his bed and stands there for a second, suddenly very tall. "You wanna take off your jacket?"
"It's a cardigan." You peel the thin white cotton off of your shoulders and shift from foot to foot, unsure of yourself. 
Eddie settles on his knees, pulls off his rings. "It's pretty. Come here," he says, holding out his arms. 
You slide onto the bed cautiously, naked calves rubbing against the sheets. You feel as though every sense has been dialled to eleven; you're thinking about every brush of fabric, every small sound that they make. 
Eddie takes one of your hands and you sit with one leg crossed and the other hanging off the edge of the bed, surprised at his soft touch. He soothes your hand and brings it to his lap, eyes on your now-bared shoulders. 
"You dress real pretty." He says it with his usual dramatics, though there's enough sincerity there to make you smile. 
You look down at your delicate clothes thoughtfully. "You think so?" 
"Mh-hm. It suits you," he says as he drums his thumbs against the back of your hand. 
He pushes one palm up the length of your arm and pulls it towards him at the same time. You've never been touched like this before and you want it bad, shuffling towards him with a shameful speed. He takes it in stride, hand bumping up the hill of your shoulder. His index finger slides under the skinny strap of your top and tugs at it playfully. 
"You look sweet. Really sweet," he says, his voice more hushed than before. His eyes drop to your thighs. "You'll have to take those off, though."
"My shirt too?" you ask weakly, eyebrows pinched up at the starts. 
"Not if you don't want to." You hesitate. He takes your thigh into a big hand and gives you a small shake. "It's okay. Take your time. Or, if you changed your mind, that's totally cool." 
"No, I haven't," you deny, voice trembling with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. You kick your legs out in front of you one at a time and ease your shorts over the slopes of your thighs and calves, pushing them off of his bed with your feet. 
“If you change your mind at any point-“
“I’ll tell you,” you say, nodding as you pull your knees together. 
Eddie manoeuvres so he’s close, twisted toward you with his hand braced by your thigh. The cold metal of the charm bracelet you'd swapped him bites into your skin. If you leaned back and he leaned forward, he could kiss you. You think maybe he has the same idea as his eyes dart to your lips. 
They linger. 
He blinks and it’s gone. 
“I’m gonna rub your leg,” he says quietly, “and when I get to the inside, I’m gonna touch you. Okay?”
As he says it, his hand moves onto your thigh. Down to your knee.
Slowly, so slowly, back up. His fingers caress the inside of your thigh. He pauses. 
“‘Kay,” you whisper. 
His fingers flex over your flesh as he draws in. Then, like a shock, his fingertips press to your underwear. 
“I’m not surprised,” he says steadily, fingers brushing over your cunt, ghosting but never truly touching where you want him to. 
“By what?” 
“That you wear such cute panties.” He strokes the hem with the tip of his finger and you hold your breath as he slides it under the elastic, running the fabric over his digit gently. “S’exactly the kind of thing I pictured you wearing.”
“You’ve pictured them?” 
He looks up from his teasing and your panties snap into place. You gasp on instinct and his eyes narrow, his lashes kissing in the corners. “Does that bother you?” he murmurs. 
You shake your head. His lips quirk up, a smugness that makes your heart race ever faster. 
"Do you do anything like this with yourself?" he asks. 
"I'm never this nice." 
"That's a crime," he says, and he laughs loud, momentarily shattering the distilled atmosphere that had settled over you both. "Thighs like these and you don't touch them?"
"Is that what you do?" you ask, insecure.
"No, but it's different. I don't need to get warmed up like you do." 
"Warmed up?" you whisper. Having to ask these questions feels so embarrassing. 
Eddie being so soft about it makes it easier. "Relaxed," he whispers in turn, laughing towards the end.
His thumb rubs the elastic of your underwear and drifts slowly inward until he's pushing over your folds. You gasp and it's slightly startled, sounding too close to panic for Eddie, who's hand flinches away. 
"Didn't like that?" he asks. 
You rush, "It's okay. Surprised." 
One big hand holds your thigh, the other strokes your cunt. He's a little firmer now, pushing the breadth of his thumb over your panties until he touches something very sensitive. "Here?" He pushes up a little higher and your breath catches. He makes an almost inaudible cooing sound and flattens his hand, rubbing the length of your cunt without finesse. It feels good anyway. It surprises you how much you like it. 
He pinches your panties.
"Ready to take them off?" he asks. 
"Yeah." 
You lift your hips and peel your underwear down, folding your legs to pull them off of your ankles. You clutch them in your hand, unsure. 
Eddie sits back and pulls you towards him. You let him manhandle you with a small gasp, his hands pressing into the soft of your tummy. You can't see his face anymore. 
"Alright," he murmurs, pulling your thigh over his lap and spreading you wide. His voice is loud in your ear because of his proximity, and you resist the temptation to turn your face to his.
"Let's just-" he works your underwear out of your hand and tosses them aside. 
His hand lands on your knee and moves down fast. 
You lean back heavily into his chest with your hands pulled to your sternum. 
"Eddie," you say, "what do I do?" 
He hums. "Touch yourself." 
You seize up and he's quick to soothe, fingers closing around the crook of your elbow.
"Hey, I'm gonna show you. I'm gonna show you," he repeats. He pulls at the lip of your cunt and spreads you open, groaning softly. You wouldn't hear it if his lips weren't so close to your face. "How'd you have a cunt this sweet and never touch it? I mean, fuck." 
His fingertips whisper past your pubic hair like he's going to say something more, but he only asks, "Hand?" 
You put your hand into his, the back to his palm. 
He sets it to your thigh. "Do what I did before, okay? Slowly…" He drags your hand up and down the length of your thigh. 
Your heart is racing. Every time you crawl close to your cunt the burning longing to be touched, to touch yourself, and to have him touch you intensifies. 
Eventually he pulls your hand to your clit. "You're so sensitive. Is it always this bad?" he asks sympathetically when you jump, tickled at the feelin. 
"I haven't tried in a while." 
"Oh, I see." Eddie encourages you to push your fingertip into the bead of your clit, drawing slow circles. "Poor baby. Just desperate to have someone take care of you." His voice is so low, so ridiculously soft, you find yourself sinking into his hold. He squeezes the crook of your elbow with one hand, the other still guiding your ministrations. You bite your lip at the sensation that's begun, the tiny spark of pleasure.
"Here, let me-" He lifts your hand away from your clit and you whine involuntarily. "Shh, sweetheart, I'm only gonna give you something to work with." 
You turn your head to him and watch as his mouth opens. He sucks the very tip of your finger between his lips, the heat of his tongue a momentary flash. When he pulls it back, your finger shines with his spit. 
Your eyes are half-lidded, watching through the crush of your lashes as he presses it back to your clit. "How's that? S'that better?" he asks, crooning. His tone sports an underlying mockery, a light-hearted teasing that's slowly turning intense. 
It is better. It's different. Your fingertip searches for purchase against the slick skin and struggles to find it, the wetness allowing for freer, faster movement. 
You push a second finger against the first. 
Eddie stops helping. You pause, confused. 
"No, you got it, sweetheart. You keep going," he reassures, grabbing a hold of your thigh again. He teases the dough there, never cruel but maybe close, fat moulding under his fingers as he squeezes. 
Your breathing builds with pleasure. Still, it's hot enough; there's no sign of an oncoming climax, no tightening coil in your tummy. You huff with exertion and frustration. "Eddie, it's not working." 
"I'm not done." He sounds almost stern. Your stomach flips. "You have to think about what you want." 
"What I want?" 
"What turns you on." 
You think of his hands and their rings. His happy trail. 
His voice. Good girl. 
You slam your eyes shut.
Eddie gives you another mean squeeze. "What do you think about, when you-" 
You don't let him finish. "What do you think about?" you ask, too loud. 
He stills. His nose pushes into your shoulder, his hair tickling your skin as he asks, "Are you sure you wanna know?"
Your breath catches. Your fingers stutter where they work into your clit and Eddie starts you right back up again. His lips brush your shoulder. 
"Yes," you say, gasping as pleasure like little shocks of heat shoot to your core. 
The hand at your elbow starts to rove, tickling your arm as he strokes downwards. "You first," he murmurs, teasing your wrist. You swear you can feel his smile against your shoulder. 
You breathe in through your nose. "Uh, I think of- of somebody…" You try, but you just can't say it. 
Eddie's fingers push down your crease. Stop right before your entrance. "Is this okay?" 
"Yeah." 
"Mmm…" He circles your entrance. "Now what does a pretty girl like you think of when she's touching herself?" You don't think he wants an answer. His middle finger brushes across the slick well and pushes in. You squirm and he holds you in place. 
There's something very hard digging into your spine. 
"Something sweet as you… Let me guess. Boy next door comes around to mow the lawn, you invite him in for a drink, one thing comes to another-" He pushes his finger in deeper. "And he's fucking you.
"That sound about right?" 
You shake your head. His own perks up where it rests on your shoulder. "No? Huh." 
Your circles have grown slow and staggered, distracted by his touch as he eases his ring finger in beside his middle. "Something more romantic? Wedding night, love of your life. Guy that's gonna treat you like a diamond. Way a girl like you deserves." He pushes in, stretches them out. You moan as he curls them, as his arm works back and forth. "Gives it to you gentle." His movements slow to match.
And sure, that sounds nice. But it's not what you think about. 
"No," you manage to get out through shallow breaths. 
"No? You don't want it gentle?" 
"Not- not all the time." 
"How about right now?"
"Please." 
Slowly, slowly, the shape of Eddie's hard cock against your back starts to move in time with the thrusts of his hand. He pushes in deep, fingers searching emphatically for the sweet spot, the thing that's gonna make you- 
"Fuck," you whimper. 
His cock jumps. You feel it. 
"You keep rubbing that pretty little clit of yours, sweetheart." 
You do as he asks. You're desperate enough now that you imagine you'd do most anything he says, your climax a tangible, physical possibility. Your tummy feels heavy and aching with want, worse when he probes deeply and marks your sweet spot again. His lips press to your shoulder, soft enough that you worry you're imagining it. 
"You see what I'm doing here? See what fingers I'm using?" he asks. You open your eyes reluctantly. His wrist turns. You watch his fingers sink into the gummy heat of your cunt. "Tight little hole's just pulling me in, fucking clinging to me, baby, she's greedy." 
You gasp, a hiccup of scandalised sound. 
"Want you to try, okay? You gonna do that for me?" 
"Yeah, Eddie." 
"Good girl." You moan, you don't mean to, but he's fucking into your quick and your finger pushes into your clit roughly. Eddie revels in it. "You like that? You like being called a good girl? I fucking knew it." 
You frown and start to turn to him. He presses his cheek to your head so you can't, stuck looking down the length of the bed at your trembling legs. 
"You looked so flustered, standing all sweet and quiet by the van out front with your thighs squeezed together. You think I didn't see that shit?" 
You're limp against him, thighs spread wide as you work into your clit, chasing this new feeling. You can hardly breathe, every exhale a keening moan that has you shame-faced and weepy. You roll your hips to meet his fingers, his hand slapping against your cunt with a slick slap. 
"You looked so sweet. Y'always do." He turns his lips to your ear and curls into you until your squealing. "Guess looks can be deceiving." 
You're so close, so close. Tendrils of heat curl heavily at your core. "Eddie, I'm- I'm-"
"You wanna cum?"
"Yes," you pant. 
He pulls his fingers from your cunt and you're so confused that you stop, your climax slipping away in seconds. 
"Sorry, but you have to do it yourself. This is all pointless if you can't get there on your own," he says. 
Your chest heaves. "That's mean. You're mean." 
"I never claimed otherwise. Here, middle and marriage, babe." He guides your hand to your entrance. You push your fingers inside, your tongue between your lips in concentration. Your fingers aren't as thick as his, they don't feel quite the same, but Eddie pushes your thumb into your clit. "Move your wrist. Feel that? Feel how soft you are? How fucking warm you are?" 
You're not nearly as good as he was but every clumsy touch feels electric. You push your thumb into sweeping circles and pant your frustration aloud, feeling close to tears. 
"You wanna know what I think about, when I jerk off?" he asks unexpectedly.
You nod, your head moving back into his collar. He rubs the lengths of your arms leisurely, his lazy demeanour in total juxtaposition to your desperation.
"There's this girl that comes to see me," he starts, coloured by a smug amusement. "Sweet thing, soft-spoken, always wearing these pretty clothes looking like something straight out of the movies.
"I think about a lot of things. Her thighs-" One of his hands falls to your thigh in time, massaging, "fuck, just wanna bury my face in them and never come out. Pull down those cotton shorts she's so partial to with the dainty stitching and-" He laughs and his lips part over your shoulder. His teeth scratch up, up, up. "Make her fucking cry my name. Feel those thighs tense up around me." 
You're so close your entire body shudders. You slow without meaning to, holding your breath in wait for Eddie to finish his story  
He gives you one final push. "Always wondered if she sounds as pretty as she looks when she cums." He kisses the small graze he'd given you mere seconds ago and everything is blue-white with heat. "Gonna clue me in, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me?" 
Your eyes close hard and you breathe out, an exhale ragged and weak and mewling. You don't moan so much as sob without tears, tensing up in Eddie's arms as bliss blooms. You pull your hand from your sopping cunt and feel your walls contract around nothing as you cum.
He pulls you close, throbbing cock pressing hard into your back. "Fuck," he hisses, hands placating where they lay. 
You go lax, head tipping back as you suck in air that had felt elusive moments ago. 
Eddie rubs your arms without saying anything. You cover his hands and try to summon up words. 
"Just as pretty as you look," he murmurs. 
He's so fuckng nice. So fucking nice, and what? He thinks about you when he jacks off? Since when? 
You sit up and drop your chin to your chest, panting still. 
"You okay?"
After a few seconds you smile and turn to him, intent on saying, Yes, thank you, and maybe something with more gratitude, something silly, just something. But you can't speak.
His face is close. 
Eddie brings a hand to the slope of your rising shoulder, follows a line to the curve of your neck. You look to his eyes and find him staring at your lips unabashedly. 
He pulls you into him. You close your eyes. 
Eddie Munson tastes like lots of things as he kisses you.
Cigarettes, unavoidable. Under that, sugar. Something sweet but heavy as bourbon vanilla. Your lips part and close in tandem with his, slow and hungry. Your heart races and your fingers are still wet as you twist in his arms and take his face into your hands. 
You climb up onto your knees and Eddie doesn't know what to do with you. 
He smiles so hard he has to pull away. Not smirking, smiling, a cheek-aching, too-happy smile that softens everything in your chest. 
You rub a shaking thumb over his cheek. You don't know if it's because of the post-orgasm rush of hormones or because he just kissed you and now he's smiling like he might do it again. 
He does. He kisses you and grabs your waist. His fingers mess with the hem of your shirt and he breaks the kiss short to say, "Take it off?" 
You sit back on your knees, feel the mess of wet between your legs spread as you grab at the edge of your shirt and pull it up. Eddie helps though he doesn't need to, and just like that you're shirtless. 
"Oh my god, I can't believe this is happening," he says, voice weak in what you suspect is one of his dramatics. 
He slides his hands up your sides and stops just below your breasts. His thumbs grace the undersides and his brow puckers. "Fuck," he mouths appreciatively. 
You flush head to toe. "Yours, too?" you ask gently. 
Eddie reaches back to pull off his shirt. His hair's in total disarray and he runs his hands through it, biceps flexing with the movement, torso taut. The black ink of his tattoos move with him and your eyes eat up every single one. 
He catches your eyes where they linger on the volley of bats. "You like that one?" 
"I've always liked that one." 
He grins and it's honey thick, hands at the small of your back and tugging. You spread your knees wide on impulse and find yourself flush to his chest, his arms locking you into place as he dives in for another kiss. Again you're surprised at how deeply he kisses you, how it ebbs and flows from slow to fast like he's both savouring and gorging himself on your closeness. 
You've never been kissed like this. You're weightless. You feel every contiguity between you, the hot and wet of his mouth, the crook of his elbow against the nape of your neck, your nipples peaked against his chest and the length of his dick pushing up into your aching cunt. 
"Fucking pretty," he says, pulling back just enough to kiss the corner of your mouth, your chin. He kisses your jaw over and over and over, lips pulling into crescents and then the same word. Pretty. 
His mouth opens wide at your throat, teeth scratching lightly as it closes. He sucks your skin between his lips and rolls it, hand spreading wide and palm flat at your shoulder blade. Steadying. . 
"That's cute," he says when he pulls away, lips shining. 
"What?" you ask, hand drifting up. You poke at the quick-forming contusion.
He nudges it aside with his face as he moves in to further mark up your neck. "You're so fucking pretty," he says, each word separated by a nipping kiss. 
His hands are everywhere.
Everything is warm and you can't breathe. You plant your hands at his shoulders and push away from him, and he stops you from falling flat on your back, levelling you with a worried glance. 
"Is it too much?" he asks. 
"No, I'm just hot. Really hot." You take a big breath and wipe your face with the back of both hands. 
"That's true," he says, leaning back against the wall. His hands fall to your thighs. "Are you okay?" 
You drop your hands abruptly and can't believe the fondness you're feeling. "You're pretty, too," you tell him. Honest if very shy; meek, entirely sincere. "I'm okay. I want…" 
"You want?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. 
"I have this fantasy," you begin. 
Eddie widens your legs to move from under them. It doesn't surprise you when he comes to lie on your chest, holding his weight off of you with an arm at the side of your ribs. His hair falls and hides the room from view. All you can see is his face, and it's beautiful. 
"Tell me about it." 
"It's- okay. It's…" You drift off as he dips down to kiss your collar, only chaste pecks but enough to distract you. "It's kind of like this." 
"Yeah?" His breath warms your chest. More ditzy kisses.
"I get here and you're coming out of the shower-" 
"Tasteful." 
"With a towel low on your hips," you add pointedly. It's useless, his sarcasm has pinned you spot on. "And you- you touch me." 
Eddie kitten licks the skin he's just nibbled and looks up. "Like this?" 
"Like this." 
"And after that," his hand moves between you to the zipper of his jeans, the sound of metal clicking metal ringing through the room, "what do I do?" 
"You push me down into the bed, and-" You feel the fabric of his jeans rub your thighs as he pulls them down. "You…" 
"What do I do, sweetheart?" 
"You push my legs up and you fuck me," you confess.
He scrambles back towards his nightstand, a hand on your ankle that says, I'm not going far. "How do I fuck you? Am I rough?" 
"Not at first." 
There, in his hands, the red plastic of a condom wrapper, bright as a maraschino cherry. He holds it up and you nod. 
"Not at first," he murmurs, ripping open the condom, hissing as he pulls it over his weeping cock. It's big – not too thick, but big, surrounded by a thatch of dark curls trimmed neat. "But eventually?" 
He rolls it on tight and then there's nothing but this admission of your guiltiest fantasy. You spread your legs without thinking and he pulls you towards him, thumb collecting slick where it's pooled and pushing it up towards your entrance. What's left on his fingers he smears over the length of his shaft. You watch him rub at the head and sigh. 
"Eventually," you agree. 
His cock rubs up against you as he leans down and pinches your chin between his fingers, lips parted from a sharp gasp and opening further. "Can I fuck you? Is that what you want?" 
You nod voraciously. 
He gives you a very firm kiss at the highest point of your cheek. "In words." 
"Yes, you can fuck me. That's what I want," you say without hesitation. 
"You tell me if I do something you don't like," he says, lining up. 
"I will," you say earnestly. 
Eddie pushes your leg up towards your tummy and holds it there. "Good girl," he praises, and pushes in.
You're already worked open by his hand, your own hand and your climax, and still it's a snug fit. You cross your arm over your chest with your lips bitten hard to stop from making what you anticipate to be a very great and mortifying sound. He takes it slow, real slow, towering over you with his brows furrowed just slightly and his back arching. Every move he makes is accompanied by a careful thrust of his hips. He's rhythm in motion. 
"Fuck," he mutters, more than once. He's halfway when you feel that stretch, your pulpy walls accommodating him with little complaint and a lot of pleasure. 
You drop your head back against the bed sheets and hug yourself. 
Eddie reaches for your hand where its cracking your breast absentmindedly and squeezes your fingers. "How's that?" he asks. "How's that feel?" 
You close your eyes. "S'good, Eddie." You lay out your own roll of expletives as he pushes in ever deeper. "You're really- oh," you gasp, "really deep." 
"You should see it, babe, pretty pussy gripping my every fucking inch." He leans down and his cock fills another inch of you. Your fingers ache with how hard he's squeezing them, and you look up to find his eyes on yours. "I'm gonna fill you up, okay? You gonna be a good girl for me and take it?" 
You blink and your lashes feel heavy with tears. "Yeah. I can take it. I can take it." 
"I know," he says, hovering over you, close enough to hug if you wanted to. 
He grabs your side and his thumb pushes into the soft swell of your breast, his grip tightening as he fits those last inches of his cock inside you. You rub your cheek against his bedsheets, your head fuzzy from being so full. He takes your bared neck as an opportunity and ducks into the juncture of it and his face fits there like it was made to, his nose bobbing against the column of your throat as he starts to fuck into you. His hips roll, a mess of his sticky pubes kissing your clit. 
This close you can smell him, the heavy scents of pot and smoke, the sweet nutty smell of oil clinging to his hair. Sweat, as you imagine you smell of too, and sex. The room is filled with it, the smells and the sounds of his thighs thudding into yours. 
"Eddie- Eddie," you whimper, muffled by the sheets beneath you. 
He pushes in deep and rubs his nose into your skin emphatically. "What's wrong, hm? What's got you all wound up?" 
You wrap your arms around his back. You're not sure if you're allowed to but you're hardly thinking ahead – you can't. Every thrust, every movement he makes is at the forefront of your mind, commanding all of your attention. The tickling of his hair against the side of your face. The skipping of the chains of his necklace where it teases your neck. 
"Babe?" he asks, pulling back to turn your head. He stills inside you. 
You protest, loud and completely unlike yourself. "Eddie, don't stop. Please don't." Your hands push into his shoulder blades. He ruts in at your request, thumb rubbing your cheek. "Feels so good," you say. You trip over your praise, voice breaking. 
He starts up again, whispering, "Do you want me to hold your leg up, pretty girl?" and, "Taking me so well- taking it so fucking well," and, worse, "Fuck, sweetheart, just like that," when you tigthen around him. 
You weave your fingers into the messy crush of black curls surrounding his face, careful not to tug as you covet the back of his head and nape of his neck, scratching his scalp lightly with one hand as the other strokes his side. 
Your moans become a half-sobbing sort of mess, quiet and desperate, drawn out of you with every tap of his cock into your soft spot. When he finds it he can't not search for it, rutting into it over and over until you can't produce anything but an unintelligible stream of babble and happy sighs. 
He laps lazily at your neck, the stretch of skin dampened and stinging from love bites. He thrusts in hard and hits something sweet that has you clinging to him. 
"You smell good," he says into your skin.
Your hips ache with pleasure. "I must taste pretty good," you say. What, with how he's willing to nibble on you like this. 
He squeezes your neck and narrows his eyes at you playfully. "I intend to find out." He moves down until your lips are a hair's width from touching. "Bet you taste as sweet as everything else."
You lift your chin and kiss him, dedicating your affections to his top lip. He groans into your mouth, hips moving slow and thrusts shallow when suddenly they're not. His cock drags out slowly and slams in deep, his pelvis hitting into yours. 
You keen into the kiss, gentle and at odds with his fucking. His fingers find your ear and his thumb follows down the shell until he's pinching your earlobe, a split-second touch that melts you into putty. He pulls away from the kiss and inhales loudly, his fingers under your ear and pushing your face to the side so that he can wade in from a new angle.
You curl your fingers around his wrist and let yourself be kissed and fucked and touched. Anything he wants to do, he can do. 
Eddie breaks the kiss.
"What did I taste like?" you ask breathlessly. 
He traces an invisible teardrop down your cheek with the back of his pinky finger. "Oh, sweetheart," he says quietly, lowering his lips to the shell of your ear. "That's not where I meant." 
Another hard thrust. You gasp at the dull aching spreading through your tummy and Eddie softens slightly, not so deep but just as fast, faster, his cheek to your cheek as he works you open. His rugged panting in your ear is everything you need. You force your hand between your body and Eddie's and search for the wet mess of your clit, chasing quick circles into the swollen bump. 
Eddie realises what's happening and his fucking turns desperate. "You gonna cum again? Shit- keep touching, I'll get you there, fucking promise you." He's hardly pulling out an inch before he's rutting back in, kicking up the speed until all you can feel is pleasure again. 
Eddie slows down as you cum, moaning as you tighten around him. He pushes away from you to kneel between your legs again, eyes locking onto your cunt obstinately, his panting loud as he drags his cock in and out. 
"Insane," he mumbles, hands coasting down your legs until he's grasping the fat of your thighs and pulling you back onto his cock. "You're insane." 
As if proving it, his hands rove the hills and troughs of your torso, your skin clammy underhand, his hips moving mindlessly. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand and blink back into focus. 
"Are you close?" you ask him, whispering. 
You're lucky he can hear you with the music he's playing and the sounds of your slick hole being stretched. Eddie tucks a lock of sweat-dark hair behind his ear and his eyes pause in their reverential searching to meet yours. 
He peels your hand off of your mouth and holds it. 
"Fucking teetering, babe. Been close ever since I felt you wrapped around my fingers." He pulls your hand and you take it as a cue to try and sit up. Eddie helps you into his lap, your thighs straddling his thighs, slipping down his length until you're stuffed to bursting. 
You hide your face in his shoulder and he rubs your back. "You're okay," he says sympathetically, "I got you. You just sit pretty, there's a good girl." 
You wrap your arms around his neck and try your best to bounce on his cock as he thrust up into you, a steady pace that turns sloppy. You rake your hands through his curls and kiss at the curve of his neck down to the slope of his shoulder, dizzied and cock-drunk, totally fucked out. You hum into your kisses with every prodding of his mushroom tip against your deepest spot, rambling nonsense at him in a way you hope is making a difference. 
"Fucking me so good," you mumble, equal parts tearful and euphoric, lips wet and spreading a shine like frost in the sun over his lean shoulder. "So good, Eddie. Thought about this too much." 
"Yeah?" he asks, sounding like a different person. Voice rough as hewn stone and hands bruising where they grip you, his heavy sack slapping into you with every sluggish rock of his hips. "Good as you pictured? M'I fucking you like you wanted?" 
"Better," you say sincerely. 
"Fuck, sweetheart," he says, and he's close, you know he is.
You roll your pelvis in circles and try your hardest, aflame as you plead, "Cum for me, please? Please, Eddie, wanna feel it." 
Despite your shy intonation Eddie goes rigid. He fucks in with one final thrust that sends shocks deep to your core and spreading out, cutting your happy little gasp short as he pulls your head tight to his neck. His hips twitch underneath you and he's making sounds that are going to haunt you, whiney, begging moans over your head. 
Eddie's tight hold on you slowly loosens. You're breathing fast, finally out of motion. Your thighs burn where they're spread over his lap and you squirm unintentionally. 
He pulls your neck back from his shoulder and looks over your face, concern lining the soft set of his eyes. He cups your cheek in question. 
"I'm okay," you say softly. "I'm more than okay. That was amazing." 
"It was amazing," he agrees, caught off guard.
"Yeah." 
You shift backwards and the two of you wince at the sensitivity. You ease your legs open and Eddie pulls out, pumping the sticky shaft once. His eyes flutter closed. 
You move off of his lap and turn to the side so you can stretch out your aching legs. Eddie follows suit, collapsing off of his knees and onto his back, the pillow behind him keeping him propped up. 
You watch him ease the condom off of his cock curiously, White cum has smeared and drips down the length of him, his pubes tangled by a mixture of your slick and his. 
He spots you watching and smiles. "What, sweetness? What are you thinking about?"
"I made you cum." 
His eyebrows jump but quickly smooth. "I think I went blind, for a second." 
You giggle at his hyperbole and he pulls you down against his chest, your side pressing into his navel. Your cheek to the space shy of his heart. 
His hand comes to rest on your forehead. 
"Do you really think about me?" you ask, knowing the answer. 
"Every night." 
You close your eyes and hide your smile in his skin. He chuckles and wraps you up in one arm, his hand a firm pressure as he massage the dipped plane of your back. 
Nestling your cheek into his chest, you say, "I think about it, too. All the time." 
"Uh-huh. Maybe we can make some more of those racy thoughts a reality. What was that one about me coming out of the shower?" 
You like this casual conversation and decide to try and make him laugh, stretching your words out low. "Well, you're coming out of the shower, and your towel slips open-" There, his bumping laughter at your over the top salaciousness. 
"That's awful. Most cliche, overdone, cheap porno concept ever," he chastens. 
"I never said I was creative." 
"What happens after that?" 
"The towel gets swept away by a sudden gust of wind, so I have to cover you. With my body." 
He bursts. There's no other word to describe it, his back arches with the force of his laughter and he holds his fist to his mouth, shaking and giggling like an idiot. 
"Where's the wind coming from?" he questions incredulously. 
"I don't know! The window?" 
"Oh my god," he says. He hooks his hand under your arm and pulls you up his chest, dotting a fond kiss to your forehead as you near. "And after that?" 
"Well, I told you that part." 
"Right, we hook up, but after that." 
You clench your fists, insecure. "After?" 
He brings the hand that isn't loving the length of your back to your face, stroking the skin under your chin with the backs of his index and middle finger, the flat of his fingernails sliding gently in a soothing back and forth. 
"I guess it's kind of like this," you answer eventually. 
"Does fantasy Eddie get another kiss, too? Or does he- do they stop, afterwards?" 
"It's a fantasy. The kisses never stop," you tell him. Adrenaline must linger in your veins; you can barely speak.
His expression becomes impassive, and a lull in the conversation blossoms. He searches your face for something and you don't know what, but he must find it, because he dips down and kisses you chaste on the lips. 
Your hands are back to tentative as they explore his neck. Your fingertips grace the curves of his throat and then sink behind, into the dampened mess of his hair. 
He stays chaste, dainty kisses, pulling back to dot them against your lips over and over. 
"Eddie," you say softly, "what are you doing?" 
"It feels like kissing," he says, tone a mirror of your own. 
You huff a laugh against his lips and kiss back. 
Later, after more kisses than you could ever count and an hour dozing on his chest whilst his hand rubbed circles into your tired back, you get dressed into your clothes that he likes so much and slip your goodie bag into the belly of your strappy purse. 
"Don't go over the top with it, alright?" he says, watching the green bud dissappear.
Jeans back in place and still bare-chested, Eddie sits on the end of his bed and scratches the back of his neck. You give him a grateful smile. "No, I won't. I actually think I might sleep really well tonight without it." 
He smirks. "I bet you will." 
Eddie walks with you to the front porch. You'd linger if you didn't have to go, and you're pretty sure he'd let you. There's a fraction of awkward silence.
"See you later," you say, walking sideways down one step, another. 
Eddie catches your hand. It takes you a second to realise what he's done: forced your crumpled thirty dollars back into your hand. Your heart misses a beat and you feel your stomach plumet – you hadn't fucked him for the free pot. 
"Eddie-" 
"My girl can't pay for her own supply. That's not happening." 
You take one step up. "Your girl?" 
He has the good graces to look nervous. "If you wanna be." 
You don't know how to answer. He looks pretty like this in the last dregs of sunshine, big brown eyes waiting patiently for you to say something, hand clutching his elbow. It doesn't feel entirely real. 
You step on tip toes and work your hands behind his neck to kiss his cheek before rubbing your forehead against his chin. "I'll come by tomorrow?" you ask hopefully. He relaxes under your weight.
"Any time you want. I'll take you some place nice, if you're up for it." 
You set back on your heels and pull away. "You don't need to go all fancy on me, Munson." You're happy to get stoned and eat burgers on the couch.
He looks you up and down, eyes catching on the flanks of your thighs before he takes in your face. His smile is almost dorky when he says, "No I- I think I do. I'll see you tomorrow, pretty girl." 
You nod with an aching smile and are a little ways away when he smugly calls, "Sleep well!" 
After the lesson he just gave you, you're sure you will. 
𓆩❤︎𓆪
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Text
ateez as royals who fall for you (maknae line)
read hyung line here
genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes
length: 11.3k
c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)
a/n: as much as writing royals was tricky, it's kind of 🤢 sad 🤢 to see this au end. that being said nobody ask me for a pt 2 pls i need to recover from the trauma LMAOO and as always, huge thank you to the queen of royal au's herself @sorryimananti-romantic for helping me finish the fic and for teaching me how to make moodboards using something that is *not* word doc :')
san
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pov: you're forbidden lovers
“shh,” san hushes you with a teasing curl of his fingers that are buried inside you. “wouldn’t want everyone outside to know what a dirty little slut the princess is, do you?”
his other hand covers your mouth, stifling the breathy moans and desperate whines that escape your lips as you sit in between his legs, naked and pressed back to lean against his chest
there is the sound of water splashing over the edge of the bathtub when san hooks his feet around your inner ankles so that he can spread your legs wider for him
he presses the palm of his hand harshly against your clit and your back arches with a muffled worship of his name
“or maybe you like that,” he teases “you like the idea of people knowing how good i make you feel with my fingers”
san removes his hand from your mouth and lowers it to pinch your nipple, smirking against your neck as you babble incoherently
he coos as he adds yet another finger into you, “imagine that, everyone knows you as the princess who loves being fucked dumb. and by one of her servants, no less” 
all caution is thrown to wind and you drop your head back to lean against his shoulder, mouth lolling open with unrestrained pleads for more, more, faster as he angles his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside of you
“cum, princess” he demands
you grip bruises onto san’s thighs and arms when the pace of his fingers doesn’t relent even after your orgasm has washed over you
his arms tighten around you as his thighs flex to keep you still in his hold
you let out a choked sob from the overstimulation, teetering between pain and pleasure
“give me one more, i know you can do it,” he coaxes
the hand that has been fondling your breasts snakes down to rub your clit
with his fingers knuckle-deep inside of your pussy and his other hand playing relentlessly with your sensitive clit, the scale tips over and your vision blurs as another wave of pleasure hits you, more intense than the first one
“princess?” and then a knock. “are you okay?”
san slowly draws out the remainder of your orgasm with lazy thrusts of his finger into you
you just know he’s enjoying himself when you have to hide the shakiness in your voice to answer back to your maid outside, “everything’s fine. i’ll be done soon”
“soon?” san smirks, lifting you up by the waist to align your folds with his swollen cock. “then we better make this quick”
because you and san do not have the luxury of time, much less the luxury of love
he isn’t just another one of the numerous servants who serve you
he is everything to you despite how taboo it is for a princess and servant to love each other
his insignificance within the palace makes it much easier for him to slip away; for nobody to take notice
but at the same time, his insignificance is the whole reason why you two must be secretive in the first place
you make sure san has safely snuck out of the bathroom before you finally exit the bathtub and stand on unsteady legs
you allow your maids to come in and help you into the elaborate attire you are to wear for the afternoon
your parents have informed you that you are going to have visitors, thus requiring you to look your best
without much time left until the appointed meeting due to your…escapade, you make your way to the great hall, catching a glimpse of san’s dimpled smile from amongst the other body servants and waiting staff in the room
you have only just settled into your seat next to the king and queen when the guard outside the doors announces the arrival of your guests - the monarchs from the neodonian kingdom
schooling your expression to one of neutrality, you watch as they enter
and then you realise it isn’t just the neodonian king and queen who have come to visit
but the prince as well
he is undeniably handsome and pleasing to the eye with his sleekly gelled hair, chiseled features and tall, sturdy build
the young prince catches you looking at him and breaks out into a friendly smile and-
oh
he has dimples too
the king garners everyone’s attention with a clear of his throat, before he welcomes the monarchs
prince jaehyun, you learn his name is
“after much discussion between ourselves and king jeong and queen jeong, we are pleased to announce our desire for closer relations between our kingdoms,” your father starts, booming voice resounding within the hall
you can’t stop yourself from looking over at him as he speaks with purpose, a strange niggling feeling starting to twist your stomach
the tight smile that your mother passes you from your father’s other side does little to settle your nerves
“as such,” the king continues, “we shall look forward to the engagement between my daughter and prince jaehyun”
there is a roaring sound in your ears, as if you have been pushed to stand under a raging waterfall
engagement
the engagement
you
prince jaehyun
the engagement between you and prince jaehyun
it takes everything in your body not to bolt up from your seat
your hands grip the armrests of your seat with a grasp so tight you are certain you will leave a permanent imprint of your agony
instead, you look around frantically for the one person your instincts are screaming for
where is san?
you are afraid to see how much this is going to hurt him
you are desperate to tell him that you had no idea about this
you are aching to press confessions of love and reassurance against his lips
but just like the insignificance of his status, san is nowhere to be seen
over the two years that you and san have been in your secret relationship, he has gained extensive knowledge of which particular tasks allow him a greater chance of seeing you, which corridors reach you the quickest, and which times during your schedule you have a break
never would you have thought he would use this knowledge to avoid you
it continues like that for the weeks following the announcement
you have no choice but to spend time with your future fiance when your father tells you very clearly to “ensure the prince feels at home”
prince jaehyun is warm and you find yourself getting along with him like you two are friends, but that is it - there are no sparks brighter than friendship
when you spend time with him, you cannot help but compare him to san; san would’ve said this, san would’ve done that, san, san, san
jaehyun engages you in conversation, easily filling in the gaps and lulls with little comments here and there, equipped with a charming laugh and deep dimples
but it only reminds you of san’s dimples and crescent eyes when you two would race through corridors, fingers tightly interwoven as you both run away to a secluded area with hushed giggles
jaehyun points out that neither of you like mushrooms during a dinner and helps nudge the servings on both of your plates to one side
the smile as you say “thank you” does not fully grace your lips because you think about san, who boasts that he will eat all the mushrooms in the world so that you never have to lay eyes on one ever again
jaehyun offers a soft yet sturdy hand to help you down the stairs or when he notices you are walking in heels across an uneven surface
your body recalls san’s rough, calloused hands that leave a trail of goosebumps wherever they touch your bare skin as he worships your body all night long
jaehyun is handsome and he is kind, but he is not san
the night before the king officially announces your engagement with prince jaehyun arrives
and still, you have not had a moment alone with san since he disappeared during that first announcement in the great hall
hurt and longing consume you to the very core
some days it is manageable, a concealed yet incessant thought, like a sticker stuck to the sole of your shoe
other days it wraps around your soul completely like a constrictor tightening as it slowly squeezes the life out of its prey
but you know that you cannot be selfish
what you feel, san feels with an intensity multiplied several times
after all, you are not the one who must stand in the shadows as the love of your life becomes engaged to somebody else, powerless to do anything but watch and poison your own smile with lies
you are lying on your bed when a quick, sharp knock sounds on your bedroom doors
you make no move to acknowledge your visitor, having told your maids very clearly you did not want to be disturbed tonight
your last night as yourself before you become prince jaehyun’s fiance
but then the knocks come a little more urgent, a little more frantic, just like your heartbeat does as it starts to speed up in anticipation
you hold your breath as you hurry to pull open the doors-
and there he is
“san-”
he swallows the rest of your words in a desperate kiss, his hands coming up to cradle your jaw as he walks you backwards so that he can step into your room
he tilts your head and slots his lips against yours again while he nudges your door closed with his foot
it isn’t until you let out a whine as his tongue swipes over your bottom lip that he pulls back to finally look at you, both of his thumbs caressing your cheekbones
you grip the front of his linen shirt, afraid that he will disappear as soon as you let go
“san, i- i had no idea, i didn’t agree to any of this”
he shushes you gently, a painful smile adorning his handsome face
“i know. i know, so please don’t cry, love,” he murmurs softly
you don’t even realise the weeks of suppressed emotions have started making their way down your face in salty trails until san uses the back of his fingers to tenderly brush them away
“i’m getting engaged tomorrow, san,” your voice breaks as reality settles in
you are so afraid
you are so lost
above all, you are so in love with san
“i know,” he reassures again, “but until tomorrow, you are still mine”
and so you spend your last night together
time has always been precious; conversations, kisses and touches rushed and with fervour
but tonight, san takes his time with you
he lays on your bed with you cradled on top of him, limbs tangled together as he savours the taste of your lips against his
he turns you onto your back as he slowly undresses you, leaving tattoos of his love each time he bares another part of your body
he pleasures you with his fingers whilst whispering into your ears, creating a harmony with his praises and the melodious moans that leave your lips
and as he brings you both to your highs numerous times throughout the night like an ingrained dance routine, it is accompanied with confessions of i love you
san holds you against his chest under your blankets so tightly that you cannot tell where your body ends and his body starts
before you drift off, safe and protected in his arms, he murmurs against your temple, “no matter what happens tomorrow, no matter what happens in the future, my heart will always be yours”
“as will mine”
you wake up the next morning to an empty bed and an equally empty heart
restless and drowning in a mix of emotions, you pace the empty corridors of the guest bedchambers
which is where jaehyun finds you as he exits his room
he is surprised but is quick to greet you kindly, “good morning, princess. what are you doing here?”
you pause mid-step
what are you doing?
“prince jaehyun,” you let the words come out of you before you can regret them. “can we talk for a moment?”
he nods, entering his room again as he pulls the door open wider for you to follow
jaehyun closes the door and then offers you a seat on his sofa, before pulling up his own chair and settling a respectful distance away from you
“i hope you don’t feel uncomfortable in my room,” he explains, “i thought that we would be less likely to be disturbed in here…considering most people know of our engagement today”
“actually, i wanted to talk to you about that”
“go on,” he encourages you with a dimpled smile
you take a deep breath
“i’m sorry,” you blurt out
and then you are admitting to the prince that he is lovely and charming and caring, but you just don’t see it working out with him
you don’t want to get engaged with him
because your heart already belongs to somebody else
“good”
“i’m so sorry, i should have been honest with you from the start but- wait, what?” you look up from where you have been nervously picking at your cuticles
jaehyun is smiling at you - a genuine smile that you did not know he had
“i’m actually relieved to hear that, princess,” he admits. “because i…also have someone that i love back home”
and for the first time, you and jaehyun truly see each other in the same light
“who is it?” he asks
“his name is san,” and then you add on, “he has dimples just like you do” 
you ask him the same question
you see the way jaehyun’s expression softens with love from just the mere thought of the other
it makes you wonder whether you have the same look on your face when you mention san
jaehyun jokes, “want to be the one who tells your father we’re calling off the engagement? i don’t fancy getting executed today”
but despite what he says, mere hours later, when you are both standing in the great hall before your parents - the kings and queens of both your kingdoms - he is the one to speak up
“your majesty, we have decided to part ways peacefully and would not like to proceed with the engagement. our kingdom will always be your ally, regardless of marital relations or not”
“what?” you see veins starting to appear across the king’s forehead as he tries to maintain his temper, but the queen and the jeong monarchs seem to be taking the news much better
disappointed, perhaps, but understanding
the queen leans closer to remind the king that they had all agreed to this engagement on the terms that the decision would ultimately be yours and jaehyun’s
you suddenly speak up because this may be the only time you have the courage to
“i have one more thing to say,” you declare. “i revoke my noble status and thus declare nullified all the privileges, rules and traditions that come with nobility. i have someone i love and i wish to marry them as myself, not as the kingdom’s princess”
the king roars furiously, “that is enough! leave!” and he slams his hand against the throne’s armrest
shocked and betrayed by your father’s reaction, you rush out of the great hall with tears welling in your eyes
only to run straight into the waiting arms of san
“oh, princess,” he murmurs against the crown of your head as he engulfs you in his embrace
he doesn’t have to say anything for you to realise that he has heard the whole conversation
but you do not care about anything anymore
you are where you want to be, held by who you want to be with
“how are you here?” you sniffle
“jaehyun approached me earlier. i thought i was going to get beat up,” san’s attempt to make you smile is successful
when you lift your head up to look at him, you realise his eyes are wet as well
then you feel his body stiffen as his eyes shift to focus on something behind you
someone
he immediately steps away from you, bowing deeply as he greets the queen
you turn around to see her face adorning an endearing smile
“it’s fine, sannie,” she says, and you are not sure whether you and san are more surprised by the fact that she knows him by name or by the affectionate nickname she has used
“i’ll, uh, leave you two to talk,” he flusters
she thanks him with a teasing remark, “i won’t keep her away from you for very long”
san waits further down the corridor, back turned to give you two a moment of privacy
and then she is stroking your hair affectionately
“i am so proud of you. you’ve grown up so well and you are so brave,” she says
you don’t understand
you ask, “why aren’t you angry?”
“oh, baby,” she fondly runs her fingers through your hair, just like she used to when you were younger. “before my duties as the queen to my people, i am the mother to my daughter. i love you and all i want is for you to be happy”
your lips tremble with emotion as your mother pulls you into a hug
“does sannie make you happy, dear?”
you nod, “the happiest”
“then that is all i want. now go,” she takes a hold of your shoulders and gently turns you in the direction of san. “i’ll talk to your father”
with one last encouraging squeeze, you race down the corridor towards san
he hears your footsteps and has already turned around with open arms waiting to catch you
you hear him let out an oomph! with how hard you throw yourself into him, but he is then swaying your bodies side to side
san pulls back slightly with an incredulous look. “does this mean we can be together? together together?” 
“i goddamn hope so because i gave up my princess privileges for you. no more carriages, no more assorted sweet delicacies, no more daily massages-” you fold down your fingers as you continue listing things off
he cuts you off with a tickle to your sides as he says, “that’s easy to sort out”
“first, you’ll still be my princess,” he unfurls one of your fingers so it stands upright again
“second, i’ll carry you myself so that you never need to use your feet again,” he unfurls another finger
“i’ll give you a treat whenever you want,” he kisses your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip with a teasing tug
“and, dear princess,” he pulls you flush against his body and you have to steady yourself on his chest to avoid tripping over, “i can give you hourly massages…”
smirking, he starts to lower his head to suck pretty marks onto your neck as he whispers in a low voice, “...if you can keep up”
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mingi
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pov: you're the prince's maid
for what you are about to do, you could very well be executed should somebody catch you
but desperate times call for desperate measures
and there’s no guarantee that you and all the other staff will not be executed anyway…
not with what has just happened in the palace
you push the door closed behind you with a soft click, using the brief changeover of guards to slip inside the bedroom of the youngest prince, unnoticed
you call out softly but urgently, “prince mingi”
when you hear him groggily murmur, starting to bubble towards the surface of consciousness, you dare to give his shoulder a rough shake
“prince mingi, please wake up”
his eyes flutter open, confusion starting to clear the fogginess in his head as he struggles to comprehend the sight of your face hovering inches from his, deep into the hours of the night
“w-what’s going on?” he clears his husky voice, “are you okay?”
you wish you could reach out and smooth the wrinkles of concern from his forehead
reassure him that everything will be okay until he falls back asleep
but there is no time
“the crown prince is dead and we must leave. now.”
the effect is immediate, like you have just driven a knife into his chest
although you suppose it must not feel very different for prince mingi right now
“the crown prince is d-” the word tastes vile on his tongue, so he asks after his second oldest brother instead. “what about prince eun?”
you must drive the knife into him once more
“he was the one who murdered the crown prince, but he has framed you for the murder. there is no time, prince mingi, we must leave now”
“the court will find me innocent,” yet he lets you tug him out of his bed
you hastily help prince mingi into a dark brown robe while you shake your head, “not when your inscribed sword is currently covered in the crown prince’s blood. we do not know who is secretly working for prince eun. until we know for sure, we do not stand a chance of clearing your name”
he knows that you’re right, even if his heart is hoping that you are wrong
the prince slides his hand into the gap between his bed and wall, pulling out a spare sword and wrapping the belt around his waist
eyes sweeping across his chamber one final time, he locks eyes with you grimly before turning to flee
you follow the prince through a back passageway - it’s not entirely a secret and it won’t be long before the royal guards come for the prince, discover his empty bedroom and give chase
but it is long enough to give you two a head start
he helps you up onto the back of his personal horse before he swings himself up easily onto the saddle behind you
with a nudge of his feet, the prince sends the horse into a gallop
you startle with a yelp, having never ridden a horse before, much less one at this pace
prince mingi presses himself a little closer to you and slots his chest against your back as he leans forward to guide your hands to hold the reins with his
“here,” he murmurs, “just follow me”
he shifts one hand to settle on your waist, guiding your body into a comfortable rhythm that dances in sync with the horse’s movements and his own
when he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it, the prince places his hand back on the reins, yet he stays close, keeping you safely encased within his arms to prevent you from falling off
you’re not sure how long you two ride for
but at some point the prince slows the horse to a canter
with the slower sway of the steed, the steady clack of hooves against the forest floor, and the warmth of the prince around you, you drift off to his whispered, “sleep, i’ve got you”
you wake up to find yourself on a scratchy pile of leaves
the events of last night piece themselves together when you spot prince mingi, still adorning his deep blue silk pajamas, leaning against a tree a few feet away
it would have been a sight to see if not for the fact that-
“what are we going to do now?” you sit up, and the prince’s robe, you now register, falls from around your body
the prince gives you a warm smile as you rub the sleep from your eyes with fisted hands
“we’ll head into halsburg. the town is small enough the news should not have traveled that far yet. we’ll replenish some supplies and go from there”
it’s unspoken
the fact that there is no solid plan from there
even if the two of you have managed to escape the royal guards, for how long can you two run?
plus, it will be impossibly difficult to find evidence while on the run, when the answers are within the castle walls themselves
but you push those thoughts aside as you two enter halsburg, the prince’s hood pulled up over his face
you do the bulk of the purchases, less likely to be recognised by the townspeople
it’s mainly food and water for yourself, the prince, and his horse, and a simple tunic to replace his royal pajamas - something you have been teasing him about since you woke up
later that night, hours away from the outskirts of halsburg, you two settle for a couple hours of rest
a small fire crackles away to the song of the cicadas, an occasional pop as the licks of flames cast shadows across your faces
you glance at the prince sitting across from you, who is idly fiddling with his pajama top
specifically, the royal crest of the song family embroidered onto its front pocket
your heart clenches painfully, knowing the death of a family member is hard enough to process without the additional weight of being framed for murder, much less by your own brother who is the real culprit
“prince mingi…” you start, voice low
he glances up at you, eyes softening as he curves his lips up into a small smile, “i’m okay.”
you hesitate for a split second before letting the clench in your gut pull you to your feet, and you shuffle to settle back down in front of the fire, except this time beside the prince
all the while his eyes never leave you, not even when you nudge his shoulder softly and say,
“you don’t have to be strong. not in front of me…”
and he knows
because despite the differences in your social statuses, you are the person he trusts the most
you, the girl who used to trip over the lengths of his robes that you carried, now a woman who holds herself righteously and bravely
you, who chose to risk your own life from the moment you woke him up in his chambers
you, who is still risking your life to flee with him
“only if you stop calling me prince,” he jokingly nudges you back, attempting to make the atmosphere lighter despite the wetness that is starting to paint his eyes. “with you, i am just mingi”
“okay, prince mingi,” you tease
yet, you still extend a hand out to him, palm upturned in a silent invitation for comfort should he wish to seek it, because you can tell that he isn’t quite ready to seek it verbally
mingi laces his larger fingers through yours, tucking your interlocked hands closer to his body as he draws his knees up so that he can rest his chin upon them
mingi thinks that he feels numb more than anything, but he finds he isn’t as surprised as one would expect him to be
perhaps he always knew of his middle brother’s thirst for the throne 
he just never thought it would be enough to spill blood
for now though, he lets himself be distracted by your thumb tracing mindless patterns against his knuckles
he lets himself relish in the heat radiating from your side that seems to warm him from inside out, even as the embers of the fire slowly lose their glow and die out with the darkening night
the days start to repeat themselves
you two cover as much distance as you can while sparing what time you can afford for yourselves and mingi’s horse to rest
mingi has decided to travel to prince yunho's kingdom, an old and trusted ally who may be able to provide you two with protection while he pulls strings to fight back against prince eun
from his calculations, the journey will take at least another two weeks
and although mingi doesn’t tell you this, deep down he does not know whether you two have two weeks left
the threat of the royal guards catching up hangs over the two of you like a hangman’s noose
neither of you have brought up that night by the fire either
but something has definitely changed in the way you seek comfort and reassurance in each other
as if so long as you have each other, everything will be alright in the end
when you feel him tremble as he sleeps curled around you, restless from a plaguing nightmare, you hush sweet nothings and brush his locks away from his forehead until his breathing steadies out again
and when you’re seated on the saddle in front of him, you now having long grown accustomed to horse riding, he still finds himself resting a comforting hand on you somewhere - your hips, thigh or over your own hand
sometimes when he is laughing softly with you, your arms brushing against each other, you imagine a different story; one where you are worthy of loving him
sometimes when you are tucked into his chest, small exhales escaping your open lips as you sleep, mingi imagines a different story; one where he is able to love you freely
because despite the blood running through his veins that has ultimately led to his downfall, you still look at him as though he has placed the stars in the very sky that you two have spent countless nights under
and although he knows the reality is that he cannot, he tries to write his own story, even if just for tonight
you are lying in his arms, legs tangled together, when the question comes tumbling out of his lips
“will you stay with me, forever?”
he feels you still in his embrace, before you’re pulling back a little to look at him with a chuckle
“you should be asking a princess that, prince mingi, not somebody like me”
“you are a princess in my eyes”
you can’t help the endearing look that crosses over your face as you lightly tap his nose, “you know that is not how it works”
“then we can run away. for i am already as good as dead to my kingdom,” he tells you with boyish determination
“you cannot, mingi. your people need a good prince”
“but what prince would i be if i cannot even boldly love you? the person who is dearest to me?”
under his sincere gaze and the weight of his words, you allow him this moment of solace
because perhaps, you want it just as much as he does
“okay, i’ll be your princess,” you breathe out
“forever?”
“forever”
that night, it is just you and mingi - no titles that separate your world from his, no looming threat of death - just two people in love
even as an uneasy pit settles at the bottom of mingi’s stomach, a growing feeling that gnaws away at him into the early hours of the next morning
he is startled awake, your expression frightened, and he immediately understands when he hears the thunderous chorus of hooves hitting the ground towards you two
mingi had known there was not much time left, but he did not think that the inevitable confrontation would happen this soon, only mere hours after the soft kiss he had pressed against your forehead
the desperate attempt to escape once more is futile, the royal guards closing the distance within minutes
left with no choice but to stop, you and mingi demount and the guards move to flank you both in a wide semicircle
when the head of the guards, prince eun, saunters forward, mingi matches with a stride of his own so that he can step in front of you
“you killed the crown prince, eun,” mingi spits at his brother
“running and denying your actions up until your very last moments, i see,” prince eun laughs condescendingly. “and you even took a little dog with you, too”
mingi presses you closer to his back, hiding you from the leering gaze of his brother
prince eun smiles smugly at mingi’s reaction, before he takes out a scroll and unravels it
“for high treason of the assassination of the crown prince, the king hereby decrees the immediate revocation of nobility of his third son, song mingi, and for the execution of song mingi and his maid upon sighting.”
you press your nose into mingi’s back, taking one last inhale of his familiar scent
the bowmen all take aim as prince eun sneers, “any last words, brother?”
mingi turns around, and all you can see in that moment are his warm eyes and dimpled cheeks
“i love you, my princess,” he proclaims
“forever,” you reply
he brings his lips down to connect them with yours, drowning out the distinct vibration of loosening strings and the hiss of flying arrows with the roaring symphony in your hearts
you’re unsure what pain swallows you whole first - the pain as an arrowhead sinks into your chest, or the pain as you realise that this is the end of your short-lived love with mingi
you struggle to keep the smile on your face as you lock eyes with mingi, trying to memorise the loving gaze that adorns his own face
you see his mouth moving, but the pain exploding throughout your body is too loud for you to make out his words
with your last breath, you gasp out your final confession, “i love you too, mingi. we’ll meet again in the next life”
as the world starts to fade away, cold creeping into your limbs, you hope that in another story, in another lifetime, you and mingi will be able to find each other again
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wooyoung
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pov: you're the princess of a rival kingdom
“absolutely not, advisor lee,” your mother raises her nose in the air
“your highness, i understand but-”
“oh please, do not flatter yourself, queen cho,” queen jung spits out, “you are not the only one who abhors the idea”
you glare at the prince sitting across from you, your own gazes reflecting the tension in the room
advisor lee has suggested that your family and the jung family host a joint royal ball as a grand display of amity between the two neighbouring kingdoms, particularly between the princess - yourself - and their prince - prince wooyoung
there have been spreading rumours in town of the strained relationship between the two royal families
which aren’t entirely untrue
as a child, the two kingdoms have been loyal and steadfast in their alliance and friendship
in fact, it is not uncommon to find you joining prince wooyoung in his kitchen, begging the chefs to let you two lick the spoons
or to find prince wooyoung squatting next to you in your garden as you both look at the ladybugs
but as power imbalances emerge and political agendas start to diverge, a wedge is driven between your families
the relation is now dangerously close to severing completely, but not without the increasing attention of the towns surrounding the two kingdoms
and one of the last things both royal families need is unease and disunity amongst the commoners
which brings advisor lee to look on with exasperation as he tries to do his job - advise
except neither your mother nor queen jung look ready to accept his advice
your father nods slightly at the two of you, “you are dismissed, as are you, prince wooyoung”
you curtsy as the prince takes a slight bow, before you obnoxiously flick your hair over your shoulder and turn away on your heels
you escape to the garden, knowing that the meeting will take at least another hour before you are required to bid the jung family farewell
except, surprise surprise
who do you run into
you narrow your eyes at prince wooyoung as he steps towards you, who has one eyebrow quirked, “a royal ball, he says?”
“absolutely not,” you fold your arms across your chest
“oh please, do not flatter yourself, princess,” he sneers, not dissimilar to the nasally tone his mother had voiced her dissatisfaction earlier with
neither of you back down, daring the other to say something else
before you two break out into giggles, eyes glittering scandalously
“did you see your mother deliberately pass the salt instead of sugar for the tea?”
“and then the face my mother made when she took a sip of it-”
he pulls you to crouch behind an azalea bush as you both chortle like children, out of sight, before he brings you in for a dizzying kiss 
you sigh, resting a hand on his chest
“do you also abhor the idea of dancing with me, prince wooyoung?” a teasing lilt in your voice
“absolutely,” he nods grimly, “why go to all that effort when there is a much grander and longer-lasting solution?”
“and what is that, my prince?”
he sneaks another chaste kiss from your lips, “for me to take your hand in marriage, my princess”
at his words, your smile dampens
“you know that i would say yes in a heartbeat. it is not i who needs convincing, but our parents”
because despite the growing hostility between your two families, the relationship you share with wooyoung has, ironically, blossomed into one of well-concealed adoration, intimacy and love
you two have come to learn that that one slightly lighter stone on the western side of your kingdom’s outer walls comes loose, and is the perfect size for slipping a piece of paper behind it
you two have also come to learn that every fourth week, if you ask your personal tutor enough questions about the plants laid out on the store’s table in front of you during your scheduled lesson in town, you’ll be able to drag it out long enough for you both to just catch a glimpse of each other as he and his escorts cut through the town on their way back to his kingdom
and of course, you two have come to learn the most isolated spots in your own respective kingdoms, like the second stairwell leading down to the cellar in wooyoung’s palace
and amongst the azalea bushes in the back garden in yours
which is exactly how you knew that he would appear, how you knew that he would give you those sweet kisses you have been craving so desperately 
as wooyoung cups your jaw to kiss you once more, one that leaves you wanting to chase his lips forever, he bets you that it’ll only take two weeks of close-quarter meetings between your royal families before one of your mothers blow up and the ball idea falls through completely
in response, you bet him that they won’t even last two weeks - one at the most
except you’re both wrong
the meeting turns into two, followed by several more as the planning goes ahead
sometimes, the meetings are held in the jung palace
other times, their family journeys to your kingdom instead
one thing that stays constant is the malevolence in the air
the parents are sarcastic snipes and saccharine smiles
and on the surface, you and wooyoung are further extensions of your own parents’ simmering loathing for the other
but under the intricately-carved wooden table, you two are playing footsies, jeweled heels and leather shoes engaged in a playful fight
you see how many times you can slide your heels up along his shin, gradually inching closer towards his inner thigh with each coquettish touch
he has you pass him anything and everything under the guise of forgoing the help of the numerous royal butlers and maids around the room to deliberately irritate you
really, it is to accidentally brush his fingers over your hands; to see the pretty shade of rose that settles over your cheeks and ears as you both try not to break out into giggles
and perhaps, during the meals that may take place during the meetings, there have been a couple of peas flicked at each other here and there when no one is paying attention
(unbeknownst to you two, the maids and butlers alike must hide their own endearing smiles)
the weeks turn into months and you practically have a permanent glow radiating from you, now that you have been seeing the prince so frequently
(which also does not go unnoticed)
as you select a necklace from the assortment of choices to emphasise the plunging neckline of your off-shoulder gown, you wonder how the day of the royal ball has arrived so quickly
your personal maid, jihye, carefully fixes the clasp of the necklace around you before stepping back to let you look in the mirror
you smooth a hand over the soft lavender charmeuse of your dress, nervously looking at jihye
“how do i look?”
“stunning, my princess,” she assures you, before adding, “prince wooyoung will definitely love it”
“prin- he- what? i- sorry?” you say unintelligibly, before you try to salvage the situation by tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as you laugh her off
but jihye just looks at you knowingly
meanwhile, prince wooyoung is already at the grand hall, the jung family having arrived two days prior for the final preparations of the ball
he and his friends, princes from kingdoms located further up north and towards the east, are lingering around one of the tables decorated with flower arrangements and elaborate candle holders, ignoring the longing glances of other attendees, women and men alike, thrown at their striking posse
wooyoung is trying to keep his gaze subtle, scanning the vast number of people at the ball without craning or turning his head, searching for one particular face
yours
prince yeosang nudges the others, jerking his chin to motion towards the distracted wooyoung
when wooyoung finally realises he isn’t as subtle as he thinks, all his friends are already looking at him with varying degrees of smirks
“just know that if there were not so many people here,” wooyoung begins with a pleasant smile, “i would flip you all off right now”
before he can try stepping on his friends’ toes in the form of petty revenge, prince seonghwa points towards the entrance as his smile grows impossibly wider
“look”
wooyoung turns around
and like any typical man who is head over heels in love, the world around him slows down
the gushing whispers spreading throughout the ballroom fade into the background
because finally, there you are, gracefully stepping past the threshold of the arched doorway in all your alluring beauty, accentuated by the way your curled locks and flowing gown frame your body
for the briefest moment, you lock eyes with him, and wooyoung feels his brain shutting down on him
“you’re going to catch a fly in your mouth, woo”
“pick up your jaw. it’s on the ground”
prince yunho pretends to dab wooyoung’s mouth with the ruffled sleeves of his cream shirt, “you’re drooling, darling”
at that, wooyoung smacks his lips dazedly before coming to a moment of realisation, blinking hard twice to bring himself back to reality
“god, you’re hopeless. just go up and talk to her,” prince hongjoong snickers. “the whole point of this ball is to show off how ‘close’ your families are anyway”
wooyoung grumbles that he knows, he’s just looking for the right timing
which, unfortunately, does not seem to come
you spend what feels like the next two hours being whisked around, feigning polite interest as you are forced to engage in dull and bland conversations with numerous men of differing royal statuses, all of whom are no doubt trying to make an impression on you in hopes of becoming a potential suitor in the future
not that you have eyes for anyone apart from the one who already has your heart
the very same person who is currently fed up with watching you converse and let your hands be kissed by men who are not him
even if he knows you are pretending, he thinks that you sure are damn good at giggling at all the right times
you are trying not to let your smile turn into a grimace as the older-aged man, lord ryu you think, boasts of his wealth to you, when wooyoung enters your peripheral vision
“princess, lord ryu,” he greets you both, before looking down at the latter, “pardon me as i take the princess for a dance”
lord ryu, visibly irked but unable to say anything to the prince of significantly higher status, lets go of your hand to step back into a bow, “of course, prince wooyoung”
you giggle, this time genuinely, as wooyoung takes your hand to gently lead you towards the center of the ballroom, where several others are starting to waltz to the soft music that is now playing
you rest a hand just below his shoulder, feeling the sturdiness of his muscles flexing beneath his shirt, as he places his other hand to settle on the dip of your waist
a little possessively, you might add
“you look beautiful today,” he murmurs lowly, away from any prying ears
“only today?” you quirk an eyebrow teasingly
his voice drops down an octave, “well it’s not every day that i can tell you, princess”
wooyoung’s eyes flicker down hungrily to look at your lips
you run your tongue slowly over your bottom lip, knowing it will drive him absolutely crazy that he cannot just take you right there and then in front of everybody
and you can see the moment his resolve snaps
“meet me for some fresh air in ten,” bringing his lips as close to the shell of your ear as he dares
and then he’s gone
you become progressively antsy as you wait out a generous amount of time after he leaves for you to also slip away from the ballroom
wooyoung pins you against a pillar as soon as you emerge in the garden, aching to kiss you and fight for dominance until you’re both breathless and light-headed
“you don’t know how desperately i wanted to kiss you in front of everyone - let the whole world know that you’re mine,” he nips at your bottom lip
you rest your hands on his chest, fingers curled around the pleated front of his satin shirt to hold yourself steady as he turns your lips into an artwork of swollen cherry reds
he tilts your head back a little more, your mouths moving in tandem, soft moans drawn out of you, when-
“what in god’s name is going on?”
you and wooyoung startle apart at the shriek
the blush dusting your faces pale almost immediately at the sight of not just your mother, but also queen jung and a few of the royal staff
it’s kind of amusing that of all things for the two queens to have the same mindset about, it is the discovery of you and wooyoung’s secret relationship that unites them, both sharing twin expressions of horror and revulsion
you’re ripped from each other’s arms as you are forced back into the confines of your bed chamber, royal ball long forgotten
your only solace is learned later that night, when jihye brings a trolley of food you have no appetite for, that the jung family have not yet returned to their kingdom
they are still in your palace somewhere
yet that does little to soothe your tears, overwhelmed by the drastic turn of events, and you do not know when you fall asleep that night
all you know is that it is to a bed too cold and a longing in your heart too gaping to ignore
“princess,” you look up to see jihye standing at your door the next morning, almost apologetic, “the king and queen request for your presence in the throne room”
as you approach the room after tidying your appearance, your breath hitches when you spot him just by the double doors
you barrel forwards into his waiting arms, uncaring of the staff following behind you
not that they have the heart to stop you either way
“i thought you would have been forced to leave,” you blurt, unable to believe that wooyoung is right in front of you
“i’m still here,” he chuckles. “i have been summoned by your parents”
your heart drops down to your stomach at his words as you realise what this meeting is about
“and i am glad they did, princess,” wooyoung is quick to interject before your apology makes it past the tip of your tongue. “i am going to ask for your hand in marriage. officially”
“what if they banish us from ever seeing each other again?” worry overwhelms you as your breathing quickens
wooyoung gently laces his fingers through yours, bringing up his other hand to cup your face and run his thumb comfortingly over the curve of your cheekbone to keep you grounded
“no matter what happens today, no matter what the outcome is,” he looks at you with the fierce determination of a man ready to give up anything and everything for your sake, “i will never ever stop fighting for you”
he presses his soft lips against yours
“for us,” he vows
your breathing evens out, and while your heartbeat still pounds inside your ribcage, you know that it marches in rhythm with the man in front of you
this time, not afraid to appear in front of the rulers of your kingdoms - your parents - you and wooyoung nod in reassurance at each other once more, hand in hand, before you both push the doors to the throne room open
together.
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jongho
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pov: you're under his protection as your royal guard
over the din of volunteered names in the meeting room, jongho steps forward
“your majesty, i will accompany the princess,” he declares
“choi jongho?” your father scans him up and down with regard before nodding in approval, “it is decided then”
“him? surely i need another person with me as well?” you protest
your father quirks an eyebrow at you, a subtle reminder that whilst he is your father, he is also the king
“no, you will need to travel in disguise and stay as discreet as possible. only jongho will accompany you as your royal guard”
your father looks away and starts to address the next item on the meeting agenda; it is quite clear there is no room for argument
meanwhile, jongho sidles up to you
“you trying to catch bugs or something? close your mouth, princess,” he teases under his breath
you nudge him with an elbow, “you’re the only bug i see around here”
he rolls his eyes but you both snicker in unison when one of your older sisters turns around to shush you with a dirty look
regardless, you stay silent for the rest of the meeting
you’re not sure why jongho stepped forward to take on this task
because for someone who is your main royal guard and is supposed to be loyal and obedient, he sure makes it clear that his job is about as gratifying as babysitting
(“you can’t talk to me like that. i’m the princess”)
(“no, you’re not. you’re an idiot”)
in fact, when you had been notified a few days prior that you would be traveling with one other royal guard - who had yet to be decided at the time - jongho had spent every single day gloating that he would finally get a break from babysitting you
and yet here he is
with the opportunity to hand you off to somebody else
but instead, baring his teeth at the other guards who offer themselves up for this scouting mission
he would never admit to it either, but jongho personally spoke to the king years ago about being rostered on as your main bodyguard since he’s “known the princess for the longest and so i can protect her the best”
you don’t want to travel to the border
you’re in charge of maintaining security and defense along your borders and with neighbouring kingdoms, usually dealing with complications remotely through the ministers and advisors who work for you
this time though, there has been recent unrest near the southern borders of your kingdom near denport, a city notorious for bandits and fugitives
the situation has worsened with increased risk of bloodshed, thus has the need for you to survey the borders in person
and as the youngest sibling of five, the king has made it very clear that this is your opportunity to prove your capabilities
jongho makes sure to remind you of this fact when you grumble your way through packing a satchel of essential items to take with you
(“your fluffy slippers are not essential, princess”)
(you listen and throw them back onto the floor of your bedchambers, but stuff in a few paperweights when he isn’t looking out of petty revenge because you know he’ll end up carrying your bag for you later when you ask him to)
it’s a relatively long journey to denport, so as soon as you are ready, jongho having long finished packing his own bag, you leave your kingdom with him at your side
by the time the sun is starting to set later that day, you’re passing through a small town
he suggests calling it a night and recuperating at one of the inns
you wait while he inquires about available rooms and then follow him through a small alleyway to the inn that he has chosen for the night
you take all but one look at the rotting wood and creaking sign at the entrance before you are crossing your arms like a petulant child
“there’s no way i’m staying the night in this sorry excuse of an inn”
he merely blinks
“you’re technically not the princess right now so you better listen to me or god help me, i’ll-”
“you’ll what,” you challenge, nose-to-nose
or nose-to-throat, you suppose
but before you can dwell any further on your height difference, jongho picks you up, slings you over his shoulder like you are nothing more than a sack of potatoes, and walks into the inn without a care in the world that you are screaming bloody murder
you resign to your fate and flop uselessly against his back as he carries you up the stairs
instead, when he throws you onto the bed upon entering the room, you look up at him sultrily and smirk, “ooh, now i’m turned on”
jongho shakes his head with exasperation but you don’t miss the redness that is creeping up the back of his neck as he turns around to close the door shut
“wait,” you sit up on the bed, “we’re sharing a room?”
“it’s safer. i’ll sleep on the sofa”
you scrunch your nose at the arrangement, but you do admittedly feel a little more at ease in the unfamiliar room of the inn
you start to take a shoe off before a thought flits through your mind and you point the shoe in your hand at him like a weapon, “you better not snore”
jongho rolls his eyes as he steps forward to take the shoe out of your hand, and then he is bending down to help slip off the shoe from your other foot
a thank you lies on the tip of your tongue
“you’re the only snorer in this room, princess”
nevermind.
it’s gone.
you’re settled in bed, waiting for jongho to finish washing up and turn off the lights, when you spot it
holy shit
your immediate reaction is to seek his protection
“jongho!”
the door to the bathroom swings open almost immediately as he rushes out, eyes alarmed, alert, and zeroing onto you
water drips off the ends of his hair and you can still spot suds on his exposed torso
“what’s wrong? are you okay? are you hurt?” his voice is laced with restrained panic
you point to the corner of the room and then he sees it too
his body stiffens completely
because, mere metres from the two of you, presence sinister and dangerous…
is a fucking spider
all is quiet and still for a while, your eyes flickering back and forth between your royal guard and the spider in a tense standoff
then, just as you are about to speak up, jongho grabs his bag and swiftly turns on his heels to head towards the room’s door
“where are you going?!” you shriek
he looks at you forlornly from over his shoulder, “to prepare for my execution”
“what the fuck are you on about, jongho?”
“for abandoning my duties and failing to protect you. farewell, princess. you are on your own from here-”
his sentence is cut short as the spider scuttles towards him
and that is how you two, disguised, but still a royal princess and royal guard no less, are given an eviction warning because he streaked through the corridors of the inn half naked and screaming at the top of his lungs
needless to say, the innkeeper ends up having to remove the spider for the two of you
“you’re so embarrassing,” you whisper to him once you two are finally settled in bed and on the sofa
“no, i’m jongho,” he cackles
you don’t humour him with a response, but you know he snickers himself to sleep that night
you can’t help but let the corner of your lips tug up as well
a few days later after leaving the town, you two are resting side by side against a tree trunk when you decide to grace jongho with the opportunity to redeem himself
he’s currently halving a sandwich so you two can share
“if i were trapped in a forest full of spiders and you were the only person who could save me,” you ask gravely, “what would you do?”
without missing a beat, he replies, “prepare to grieve your death and make sure your pet cat is well fed in your honour”
he passes you the bigger sandwich as you turn to look at him with the most scandalised expression
“can you at least pretend to think for a bit?” you grumble
there’s a hint of a smile on jongho’s face when he apologises, “okay, sorry. ask me again”
you hit him with a different scenario this time
“if you had to fight a giant spider who had taken me hostage, what would you do?”
he hums thoughtfully for a few seconds, unscrewing a canteen of water for you and placing it by your side
“i would say, she is all yours, your spidery majesty, and then i would bow and walk away”
“fuck you,” you shove him good-naturedly with your shoulder
he swipes the canteen before you can knock it over and presses it into your smaller hand instead, giving it a quick pat as he dismisses your insult, ��sure, if you think you can handle my dick”
“like they say,” you waggle your eyebrows at him as your voice drops down lower, “practice makes perfect”
jongho’s stoic facade finally cracks when you lean in closer and he hurries to stand up and put some distance between you and him
he shifts his legs subtly, clearing his throat to say, “we should go, denport is close”
when you’ve finished off the last of your sandwich, you dust off your fingers and grab jongho’s offered hand to stand up too
“let’s go”
one thing you have both noticed is that the closer you get to the border between your kingdom and denport, the quieter and thicker the atmosphere seems to get
the small towns you pass through have less people roaming around; in fact, most people seem to flee back into the refuge of their own houses, locking their doors and closing their windows when they catch sight of your pair
and then it happens
your plan goes awry
you and jongho are harshly awoken by a commotion outside the small room you have rented for the night
there’s a sickening smell accompanied by wails of grief in the air
when you rush outside, all you can see is a huge crowd of people gathered and your ears strain to pick up on the broken hushes of information being thrown around
“his son is lucky to have been spared”
“lucky to have seen his father slaughtered by bandits?”
“i heard it wasn’t money that they were after, though”
“those damned denport devils are up to something”
that’s all you pick up on before jongho snatches your arm and leads you back into the inn, telling you that it’s too dangerous to be out there; too dangerous for you two to continue traveling
which leads to the very first argument you ever have with him
you two butt heads all the time with your own fiery fronts and hardheadedness but more often than not, he yields to you
you’re facing him in the dim room - it is shadier than that first inn you two made a stop at weeks ago, but you’re both sharing one room just like you two have done at every single inn since
“we need to go check it out!” you shout at him
jongho takes a shaky breath as he tries to keep his voice even, “no, we should go back to our kingdom, report on the situation and call for backup!”
you throw your hands up into the air, “we’re already here - we’re basically at denport! what if something blows up soon? it might be too late by the time we go back”
jongho steps in closer as his eyes narrow
you don’t cower because you know he would never hurt you, but you do step backwards because you don’t think you can keep a clear head when he is standing so close to you, proximity dizzying like the buzz of alcohol
“of all times for you to play hero and do something that you weren’t asked to, why now? why put yourself in danger?”
your back hits the wall as jongho corners you
your chest heaves, as does his, both of you overwhelmed with emotions
he holds your gaze but his eyes are rounded with agony and distress
you don’t understand why he is so against your decision
you don’t know what to say, until your eyes flicker down involuntarily at the movement of his lips parting to exhale-
“damn, jongho, your lips are real chapped. you should use some of my lip balm”
he blinks hard at the absurdity of what you chose to say
he looks at your lips
he makes a decision
“then give me some of yours,” he says, a little breathless
and then he’s pressing his chapped lips against your smooth ones, the taste of coconut filling your mouth as your lip balm smears
suddenly, he pulls back with the audacity to look shocked as if you are the one who kissed him
and then he leaves the room without another word
he doesn’t return that night and you don’t manage to sleep either
you wonder when you started becoming used to falling asleep with him in the same room
jongho clears his throat awkwardly when you open the door in the morning and find him leaning against the wall just by the doorframe
you’re not sure whether he came back not too long ago from god knows where, or whether he was actually standing guard outside all night
you think you know which one it is, even if he doesn’t confirm it
“we’re checking out,” he mumbles, shuffling briskly into the room to grab his few belongings he had left and exiting the room again with you trailing behind
neither of you say much more to each other
you think that he’s going to lead you back the way you two came, lead you back and undo the weeks’ worth of journeying and go back to the castle
but then he’s sighing, deep and burdened, and he gently takes your hand to continue on towards denport
he’s never held your hand before
not like this, at least, tenderly tugging you along with every step so that you are no more than a few inches away from his side
you want to bicker with him and chortle together like usual but you keep quiet, giving him the space that he appears to need even if he is physically ensuring you are tucked right into his side
you two walk until the sun has dipped below the horizon
from what you know, you are right along the southern border and denport will only be another half day’s walk away
jongho makes a small bonfire before he joins you to lean against a fallen log
he shimmies off his coat and drapes it over your legs and then the forest also settles into silence along with you both
it’s now or never
“why are you so against us going to the border?” you ask him
he runs his fingers through his hair
an unruly tuft of hair stays upright and you fold your arms to stop yourself from reaching out and smoothening it for him
he looks at you as he says, “i’m fine with me going to the border, it’s you i’m not fine with. you do remember that i’m your royal guard, right”
“is that all there is to your reason,” you push, “that you’re my guard?”
you both know you’re referring to more than just the argument itself
jongho’s gaze breaks away, looking ahead at the flames of the fire instead
he is silent
for once, jongho is unarmed; no immediate snark or teasing remark to toss back at you
you hear him swallow and take a breath
“i…i don’t know,” he starts. “all i know is that with each passing day, the more i want to keep you safe”
jongho looks at you again, eyebrows drawn down ever so slightly
“why do you make me feel so worried?”
at his words, your heart clenches in an unfamiliar way and you attempt to lighten the mood, “maybe you like me”
“maybe i do”
oh.
with the reflection of the fire dancing in his eyes, it almost looks as though he is about to cry
“please, don’t go to the border, princess,” he begs softly
his plea remains unwavering and you find your heart doing the exact opposite
after a few seconds of silence, you say
“okay, jongho. i won’t”
the tension from his shoulders seeps out and he gently tugs you towards him so he can tuck you into his side once again
“you promise that we turn around and go back tomorrow morning?”
you nod against the warmth of the crook of his neck, then murmur, “do you think father will be disappointed in me? for returning?”
he rubs a hand up and down your arm soothingly
“of course not, princess. you’ve already done so much more than you needed to. he’ll be proud of you”
and then he adds on, “just like i’m proud of you”
this is the first time anyone has ever really validated your efforts; being the youngest of a large family means you are often overshadowed
caught off guard, all you can do is whisper out, “thank you, jongho”
he hums and you feel his smile against the crown of your head
you’ve never been drunk before, but you think that this is the closest you have ever gotten
you are intoxicated by him
“if you’re thankful,” the rumble of jongho’s voice against your cheek is pleasant, “can i ask for something?”
“whatever you want”
he eases you from the comfort of his neck and tilts your chin up slightly with a finger, cheeky grin plastered across his face
“can i have some more of your lip balm?”
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abbyscherry · 6 months
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 a.anderson
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what the fuck did you do to be in this position? oh that’s right, you couldn't help yourself. you just had to be a brat, didn’t you? purposely pushing her buttons, batting those not-so-innocent eyelashes up at her, snarkily mumbling how she's never got enough time for you. that of course is a fuckin’ lie. if she wasn’t doing patrol, or working out at the gym, her attention was always on you. you had all her attention when she wasn't busy.
Abby was used to your bratty ways, and your bratty attitude, so she didn't react much when you started acting out. acting out just to gain some of her attention. every snarky comment and flirtatious tease went unphased. simply because she just didn't have time, she wanted to give it to you but she couldn't. but you, oh that wasn't enough for you.
She should’ve seen it coming. should have seen the way you looked up at her, rolling your eyes, pouting & huffing. she should have noticed the way your lip jutted out, eyebrows furrowed. you were doing it. you were about to be a brat all over again. all because she had to go on a supply run. but she reassured you, over and over with a soft “I’ll be back before you know it, baby” why couldn't you just let it be? let her do her damn job, and just wait for her to come back? she expected you to be okay with it, to tell her to come back safely, but all she had got in response to you was an angry “I hate you”
that’s what you did to be in this current situation. your trembling, sheet of sheer sweaty body caged between your girlfriend's, her arms placed on either side of your head, and her forehead resting against yours. her strap buried deep inside you, feeling her everywhere, hitting all the right angles that had you gasping. her large, rough calloused hand gripped your chin tightly, eyes not even trained on your own, they were hooded, blown but she was looking down between your bodies, focused on the way her strap disappeared in your cunt, coming out wetter each time.
“Still hate me, baby?” those subconscious pleas, sobs, and hiccups of no's! and could never hate you! falling from your puffy red lips, trying to hold onto her. she was making it unbelievably hard to though, her pace was fast, a little rough on the surface, but overall she knew exactly what she was doing. she was going to show you.
“Don’t like when you lie to me” She draws out heavily, slowing her pace just enough to pull whine after whine from you, begging for her to keep going. her braid loosening, wispy strands of hair sticking to her forehead. the muscles of her arms bulging, gleaming with sweat when she grips your throat, squeezing lightly to tear another whimper from your spit-covered lips.
“Do you want me to fuck you like i hate you, Doll?”
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ㅤ hi this is a reupload from my old account, so if you’ve seen this before, that’s why.
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bluejeanstrash · 26 days
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rule no. 1
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summary: you have a no-contact rule going with your ex, choi seungcheol, but fortunately unfortunately for you, he’s not really the type to follow them.
tags: ex! seungcheol x reader, seungcheol’s kind of toxic and doesn’t know how to let go, tit sucking (both cheol and reader), piv sex, protected sex, then unprotected sex (stay safe out there), pet names (daddy, good girl), cheol is written based off EXACTLY how he looks in these pictures | wc: 2.7k
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
8:11 PM
[choi seungcheol] hey
[you] what
[choi seungcheol] can we meet today?
[you] i don’t think that’s a good idea
[choi seungcheol] just to talk. nothing else. i swear.
[you] dude, what are you doing? you know we’re supposed to be going no contact. plus, it’s raining
[choi seungcheol] i’ll come to you
[choi seungcheol] and don't call me dude ever again or i'll seriously kill myself
[you] NO. do not come here. it’s late. let’s talk tomorrow okay?
11:17 PM
[choi seungcheol] i’m downstairs
[you] seungcheol..
[choi seungcheol] you want me to leave? i drove all this way though?
[you] fine.
[you] just talking.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
his shock red hair. that’s the first thing you notice after opening the door, followed by just how good he looks with it. stop.
seungcheol walks straight in, fishing his car keys out of his pocket and dropping them in that little bowl on your shoe cabinet. then he looks at you. no, he checks you out, his eyes slowly sliding up your body to see what you’re wearing.
god, he has no self control. you knew he’d do that, which is why you’d worn your frumpiest PJs. a clear visual indication that nothing was going to happen tonight.
‘just talking’ you reiterate, drawing an imaginary line on the floor with your foot.
seungcheol laughs, extending his arm, signaling you to walk ahead and lead the way. the thing is, he wants to check your ass out. though you may think this is your frumpiest pair, there’s something in the material which makes it cling to your cheeks, making them look extra juicy.
seungcheol follows behind you, maintaining the “line” until you pause abruptly and he takes a step too close. just like that, he’s already crossed it, and then, he’s already kissing you, already taking off his glasses, already tossing his beanie aside, already grabbing your ass, already carrying you to the bedroom.
‘t-this is a bad idea’ you stutter, trying to find some of that self-control you keep asking him to show.
‘i know. so bad’ he breathes into the curve of your neck, sucking on the skin hungrily until it breaks. ex-seungcheol was obsessed with leaving marks of himself on you — hickeys, bites, hand prints.
he stumbles into the bedroom, leaving the lights off, and sets you down on the edge of the bed. no, you can't be doing this again.
‘seungcheol, i really don’t think-’
‘shh, don’t say anything, just kiss me. look at me' he grabs your chin, angling your face up ‘kiss me’ he says like it’s just that simple. seungcheol snakes his long tongue into your mouth, kissing you, his hands busy unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down just enough to let his cock breathe. as you kiss, he lays you down on the bed, driving a knee in between your legs to spread them apart.
‘do you still like it when i do this?’ he asks, as if there’s any answer apart from fuck yes, and presses his knee to your core, grinding hard, sending pulses of pleasure straight through you. you answer with an involuntary moan, stifling it just in time so he doesn't hear.
you see, seungcheol doesn't need an answer from you. he can already guess from your erect nipples which are poking through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, asking to be sucked on. who's he to deny them that? so, he pushes your t-shirt up, above your tits, grabbing and pressing them together, and buries his face into the valley of your breasts.
‘fuck’ he inhales ‘missed this’
ex-seungcheol was all about missing you — missed your smell, missed this pussy, missed your pretty little mouth, missed you. you know seungcheol. you know once he latches onto your tits, he's not leaving till you both have finished. so, you make a last-ditch attempt.
‘you know that article i sent you?’ he cups a breast in each hand, rolling, teasing, and tugging your nipples in between his fingers.
‘it-’ god, that feels good ‘it says the best way for us to do this is to go no-contact. really’
‘yeah?' you nod, surprised he's even listening.
‘fuck that article’ and with that he takes you in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola before latching his soft lips onto your hard nipples. fine, just one last time then, you pacify yourself and let go. you sink into the feeling of your breasts being sucked on, while your fingers sink into his thick hair, tugging on tufts of red.
‘the red looks fucking hot, by the way’ your compliment sandwiched in between soft moans. seungcheol pulls off your breast, looking up at you, a sudden hunger in his eyes.
ex-seungcheol loves compliments. loves them. — compliment his face, his hair, his built, and definitely compliment his cock. he needs to be desired by his exes.
he leans back, ripping his overshirt and t-shirt off, his hair falling wildly over his face. seungcheol runs both his hands through his locks, slicking his hair back. ‘take your clothes off’ he’s got a little gruff in his voice ‘now’
you undress hastily, and it’s not until you see a cocky grin spread across his face, you realise what he’s noticed.
‘just talking, huh?’
you’re wearing those panties — the ‘pull aside pair’ as he called it. seungcheol loved these on you, it was his favourite because firstly, they just about covered your cunt and secondly, they would ride right up your ass giving him the best view. you and him both knew that if you’re going to wear these panties, he’s going to fuck you with them on.
of course you’d prepped incase he did come over, which had happened one too many times before, but the optics of this really don’t help your no-contact agenda.
‘let’s talk then’ he pulls his jeans and boxers off, his cock springing out. yummy.
‘why don’t we talk about how you’re wearing these, hhmn?’ he cocks an eyebrow, snapping the band of your underwear hard ‘you know what happens when you wear these’ you can’t count the number of times he’s cum on your ass while you were in them.
he pulls your panties to the side, and there, another surprise. ‘oh, fuck me’ he groans needily. not only have you shaved down there, but you’ve trimmed your hair just the way he likes it.
‘fucking hell’ seungcheol curses again, licking and sticking a finger inside you, feeling your wet warmth pull his finger right in. ‘or no, let’s talk about how i can already fit one. no, two. oh? three?’ yes, three.
‘three of my fingers inside your pussy so easily’ he slides them in, all three coming out with a glossy sheen. and then, in a sickeningly sensual move, his runs his flat tongue over all three, licking them clean.
‘you taste like you need a dick inside you’ seungcheol grabs his, slapping it hard against his cupped palm. it’s like every thought in your mind turns into mush at the sound, and suddenly you’re just a hole. an empty hole.
‘cheollie’ you shouldn’t be calling him that ‘please put your big fat dick inside me. i need you so bad, cheollie’ you know exactly what to say to seungcheol to make him tick. ex or not.
he groans, pulling down a pillow and placing it under your lap to lift your hips. then he positions himself, lining himself up to your entrance.
‘wait’ you pause, much to his dicks disappointment, to grab a condom from the bedside table, your body twisting on its side. fuck, that ass looks good, seungcheol thinks, giving it a tight slap. ‘mmm’ you bite your lip, looking back at him.
‘again, daddy’ he slaps it even harder, the force of his palm making ripples on your skin. he looks at you now, so full of lust, and he can’t remember why he ever let you go. stupid fucking decision.
‘be a good girl and put it on for me’ it was one those odd things that really turned him on. he watches now as you rip the condom wrapper with your teeth, slowly rolling down its slippery edges onto his fat dick.
‘now come to daddy’ you lay back down as he grabs your legs and slides you towards him, a little squeal spilling out of you.
‘tell me what you want’
‘i want your fat dick inside my tight wet pussy’
‘that’s my girl’ he hooks two fingers under the ribbed fabric of your panties and pulls them aside, sliding his tip up and down your slick folds a few times before pushing just his fat mushroom head in. ‘fuck’ you both curse at the same time, and in the same breath as he penetrates you little by little until he’s all the way in.
‘shit, missed this pussy so much’ and you don’t say it out loud, but as he starts thrusting you’re reminded of just how much you missed his cock. no amount of vibrators and dildos could do for you what seungcheol is doing right now. it’s like he’s been able to scratch an itch deep, deep inside you. literally.
seungcheol repositions himself, leaning a little lower, angling his strokes a little higher, his cock teasing the roof of your pussy. once he’s satisfied with how he’s buried inside you, he slides his big hands up your arms before gripping your wrists tightly, shackling them in his palms, and slams down, pinning you onto the bed and fucking you.
‘oh fuck, yes’ you moan, in that nasal little way you do, which he finds stupidly hot.
‘that’s what daddy likes to hear’ he grins, his tongue touching his canines.
speaking of stupidly hot, you can’t help but notice how good he looks on top of you. has he gotten bigger? looks like it. his chest seems to have doubled, looking bigger, firmer, and frankly, more suckable. has he gotten hotter? definitely. maybe it's an ex thing or maybe it’s the red hair. god bless his hairdresser.
you’re a little dazed honestly, by his buff(er) built, especially the silver cross necklace that’s hanging off his thick neck, swinging above your face with every thrust.
‘like what you see?' he raises his eyebrow, catching you staring, and in response you bite on the dangling silver and pull him down towards you. you take his tongue into your mouth, swapping spit like a couple of teenagers.
now closer to you, you get a whiff of the faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes coming off him. you wonder where he was before this, and who got to see him looking this fine. there’s a hot sting of jealousy that cools when his chain skims across your breast, the cold metal making your nipples hard in an instant. seungcheol gets distracted by your tits once again, pushing them together and holding on as he fucks you.
‘love your tits’
‘love yours’ oh, they’ve definitely gotten bigger, you think, cupping one in your hand and circling your thumb over his nipple.
‘fuck yes, suck on it’ he bends, and you take him in your mouth, sucking on his tits, flicking his hard nub with your wet tongue.
‘yes, that’s it, good girl’ he grabs a fistful of your hair, pushing your face into his chest. seungcheol loved getting his nipples stimulated, and you feel the pleasure you're giving him pound straight back into you.
‘fucking love your pussy’
‘mmm, love your fat cock in my pussy’
‘love-’ the words are at the tip of his tongue, but before he says the stupid thing he’s not supposed to say, you kiss him, clenching your cunt so tightly and abruptly that it knocks the strength out his arms for a split second.
‘fuck, that feels amazing’ he groans ‘love your pussy so much. it’s made just for me’
‘just mine to fuck, only mine’ his possessiveness — one of the reasons it didn’t work, but so sexy in this moment.
‘yeah?’ you know what he’s really asking. he wants to know if you’ve fucked anyone else in your weeks apart, if there’s a legitimate reason for that condom separating the both of you or if its a formality. he needs to know.
ex-seungcheol is greedy — he reminded you of a bratty child at times. it was not his toy anymore but he refused to let anyone else play with it. mine!
‘only yours’ you say, and take it a step further, whispering into his ear ‘i’m only yours so take the condom off and fuck me raw’
the no-contact rule dies a violent death as he pulls out, yanking off the condom and sliding his fat, veiny, throbbing cock back inside you in what seems like less than a second.
‘fuck’ the sensation of your raw slippery cunt in contrast with how tight you’re clenching around his dick makes him curse. you wrap your legs around his waist, digging the heels of your foot into his back to push him deeper inside you.
‘y-yes, i can feel you so deep’ you breathe, two of your fingers sliding down to rub your swollen clit in sloppy circles.
‘god i love it when you play with your pussy with my dick deep inside you’ he’s fucking you so forcefully now that the slap of his skin against yours is all that can be heard.
your arch your back, closing your eyes and focusing hard on all the ways you’re being stimulated — your fingertips on your clit, the tip of his penis pressing against your walls, and his heavy balls slapping against your asshole — all the sensations twisting into a knot in your stomach.
‘you’re there, right there. do it’ he guides you ‘be a good girl and cum for me now’ his words are all you need as the knot tightens and then unravels, the orgasm taking over you from your head to your toes. it’s an addictive high, one that you’ve desperately missed, and it leaves you shaking and stuttering under him.
‘yes, there you go, there it is. fuck’ he pulls out his cock halfway, reeling at the sight of your creamy white cum coating it ‘look at that. oh you’re such a good girl for creaming all over daddy’s dick’
you breathe a satisfied breath, feeling your cunt continue to clench involuntarily at his praise, his pace suddenly picking up.
‘squeeze around my dick just like that’ he grabs both your legs, holding them together by the ankle and turns your body so you’re laying on your side, your legs folded at your knees. your pussy is so tight in this position, and your ass looks extra fat. ‘fucking hot’ he praises, moaning as you squeeze so tight around him, over and over. he knows he’s about to blow.
‘cum on my ass, daddy’ it’s tradition at this point. seungcheol pulls out, perfectly positioning himself over your ass and frantically jerks off, the squelch of his strokes filling the room. he grabs a handful in his other hand, squeezing hard. ouch. that’s going to leave a mark.
‘cum for me’ you sing seductively, his breath catching in his throat. ‘cover me in your cum, daddy. i’m all yours to cum on. i’m only yours’ you remind, and that pushes him right over the edge as he cums with a loud long grunt, shooting his thick, warm, milky load all over your cheeks. and god, there’s so so much of it.
‘holy shit. how long have you been storing that?’ you scoop some up with your fingers, giving it a taste ‘mmm, yum’
honestly, seungcheol’s a little surprised by his load too, shaking his head and laughing softly as you review his cum. ‘wait, let me just get the, where is that thing?’
he picks up his crumpled overshirt, a balenciaga shirt mind you, off the floor and cleans the cum off you, then wipes his own dick down.
‘i can’t believe you still do that’
‘do what?’
‘use your expensive ass clothes to wipe cum like they’re disposable tissues or something’
he shrugs ‘they may as well be for me’
you roll your eyes at that, starting to remember reasons as to why he’s your ex again.
‘oh, by the way’ seungcheol rolls up the cum rag shirt before chucking it back onto the floor.
‘were you seriously trying to bring up an article on how to break up while i was sucking on your tits?’
you chuckle cutely ‘yeah, i was actually. but fuck that article, right?’
‘yeah’ he nods, pouting in agreement ‘fuck that article’ he breaks into a huge smile, looking at you fondly as you both crack up, and finds himself asking the question he always does after one these nights — why did you both break up again?
1K notes · View notes
sweetestdesire · 1 year
Note
here have a random rafe thought: ok it’s bestie rafe. you got in an argument with him idk about what. but you ignore his calls and text + you decide to go get drunk at the island club. so you get hammered. jj is your waiter so you’re being flirty. well one of rafey’s friends spots you and calls him and is like uh rafe your girlfriend’s here drunk off her ass and flirting with maybank.
rafe pulls the whole she’s not my girlfriend (bc he’s in denial) the friend is like yeah whatever (bc everyone knows how you two feel about each other. and how handsy you are with each other and how protective rafe is) just come get your girl
so unknown to you rafe comes to pick you up and you’re like wtf are you doing here. cue another fight bc you’re bratty and then it finishes with smut
💓
WHAT’S MINE IS MINE
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WARNINGS: DUBIOUS CONSENT, hair pulling, extreme domination, choking kink, spanking, etc. 18+ readers only
PAIRING(S): Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader is Rafe Cameron’s, even if she doesn't know it.
"You broke his fucking arm!" Y/N snapped as she puffed her cheeks out, reaching to poke him in the ribs.
"He was touching you, Y/N.”
“I know how to take care of myself, Rafe. I’m a big girl.” She could feel how wild she must have looked, her hair falling out of its ponytail, fire in her eyes from the fight. Rafe wasn't wrong, she had plenty to drink, and JJ got a little too handsy with her at the Island Club.
"Most girls just say thanks.” Rafe mumbled, finally gaining some humility now that they were removed from the situation.
"Thanks." Y/N snapped, still glaring at him.
Rafe caught her hand as she went to poke him again, and she noted the strength of his fingers as she struggled against his grip. She swung her other hand around, and he caught that one just as easily. She glanced down at his fingers curled around her wrist and dragged her eyes up to his. His gaze met hers steadily.
"Let me go or I'll bite you.” Y/N declared, hoping her voice didn't sound as shaky as she felt.
Rafe leered at her and shrugged his shoulders, his eyes never leaving her face. With a snarl, she twisted down to him, gnashing her teeth that was mostly playful. She felt his laugh vibrate through her as she locked her jaw on his arm, gnawing like she was trying to chew her way through. When that failed to move him, she tried a different tactic. Gathering up spit, she used her tongue to coat his arm in saliva.
He yanked his arm away, wiping it against the couch, and Y/N used her freedom to poke him in the ribs again, laughing at the apparent disgust on his face. This turned out to be a mistake, and he snatched her hand with a growl, pushing her back into the couch, and swinging over her in one smooth motion, pinning her hands.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're kind of a brat?" Rafe said, not quite managing to hide his smile.
"It's called strategy.” Y/N replied primly, squirming under his weight.
"Is that why you're pinned against the couch?" He drawled, that hungry look back in his eyes.
"You win some, you lose some.” She dismissed, with a light laugh.
Her attempt at lightening the situation fell flat, and she felt her heart rate double as he leaned in, and dragged his lips up her neck.
"You know," Rafe rumbled. "I've been thinking a lot about what happened between us a few months ago at Topper’s party.”
"Oh?” Y/N stuttered out, knowing he could feel her thudding heartbeat beneath his lips as he kissed his way up her neck.
"If I remember right, it went something like this.” He smirked, and nibbled her neck.
Rafe bit deeper, his hands tightening further on her wrists as she writhed around, trying to avoid his sharp teeth. He stilled and looked down at her. His lips came down hard, almost bruising in their intensity, and his hands left hers, tangling themselves in her hair and drawing her closer.
Y/N gasped against his mouth, reeling from shock and the excited lurch in her gut, and he took the opening to force his tongue in, angling her head and deepening the kiss. She bit his tongue, and he reeled back, eyes flashing.
"Are you going to behave, or do I need to make you?"
"What do you plan on doing to me?" Y/N attempted to sound disapproving, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from his lips, and she liked the sound of punishment more than she should.
"Keep misbehaving and you'll see.” Rafe warned, lowering his lips to hers again, one hand gripping her jaw.
He kissed her again, biting her lip harshly as she whimpered. When his tongue wormed into her mouth, she tried to push it out with hers, as he began frantically kissing her. His tongue dominated her mouth, wrapping around her tongue and probing against her teeth.
Without any conscious permission, her hands climbed to his shoulders, and he growled approvingly as sharp nails raked down his back. His teeth pushed against hers as she raked down his back again. He broke the kiss minutes or hours later, and rested his forehead against hers, breathing harshly.
"I don't think you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that.” Rafe said quietly, and the sincerity in his voice shot straight to her core.
Y/N covered it by ducking her head, but his fingers caught her chin, lifting it, and she met his eyes. Whatever he saw there made him lower his lips to hers again with a groan. This kiss was different, though. The fury and hunger were gone, and what was left was unexpectedly sweet and soft. She bit his lip and ran her tongue over his lips, sucking and pulling. There was silence except for their panting breaths, and the rustle of their clothes as they moved against each other.
Rafe’s hand trailed down to her shirt, revealing again her bra, and her heaving chest. Her breath caught in her throat as he lowered his lips to her breasts with a final, burning look. His hands were gentle, stroking her breast through the cups of her bra, but his teeth were ruthless, biting and marking and claiming.
When Rafe pulled away, her skin glistened wetly, bruising even as she watched. He rumbled in satisfaction, and repeated the motion, until her breasts were swollen, skin broken and sensitive.
"Take off your shirt.” Rafe commanded, lips full and eyes bright.
Y/N remembered his warning, and some idiot part of her brain replied, “Make me."
His answering smile was all pointed edges and signs flashing danger. “I thought I told you to behave."
"What makes you think I'll do as I'm told?" She shot back, immediately regretting the words as he lifted himself off her, dragging her from the couch and into the bedroom.
Y/N struggled, and he locked his arms around her, bending her over the mattress and pushing her face deep into the covers as she struggled to breathe. He yanked at her shirt, and it came away with a clatter of buttons and a few ominous pops. He pushed one hand against her head as she attempted to raise it, fingers curling warningly in her hair.
With his other hand, he unsnapped her bra, worming his fingers up and around to her nipple and pinching sharply. She yelped into the blankets as he continued his assault, bruising her nipple with his rough fingers. His teeth sunk deep into her shoulder, and her bra was pulled off with the same carelessness and ferocity as her shirt.
Without warning, Rafe picked her up, throwing her whole body onto the bed. When she spun around, attempting to roll up and away, he pounced, pinning her shoulders with a feral smile. He dropped his teeth to her uncovered breasts, and lathed them with his tongue, coaxing her abused nipples to attention. He rolled a nipple between his teeth as she whimpered and struggled, before he bit down, sucking forcefully.
A small squeak worked its way up her throat, and he paused his torment to grin at her. “I did warn you."
Y/N turned her head away, trying to control her breathing, only for him to yank it back sharply, fingers snarled in her hair. Rafe kissed her again as one hand continued its assault, rolling and pinching and stroking. She whimpered into his mouth, and their teeth clinked together as he grinned at the sound.
"I like that sound a lot more than what's usually coming out of your mouth.” Rafe growled against her lips.
Y/N’s witty retort was muffled by his lips pressing against hers, and his hand moved between their bodies, fumbling with the catch on her pants. Her pants were removed with a rustle of fabric, and she squirmed as the cold air of the room assaulted her. His shirt followed shortly after, and she had a moment to appreciate the view before he squatted between her legs.
Rafe was silent, and stared down at the length of her body with her bruised chest heaving. She attempted to bring her legs together, embarrassed, and he shoved them open, her hips popping with the force. His fingers curled in, and she huffed a breath, unable to take her eyes off him. His hands snapped to her waist, and with a rip, her underwear was gone.
"Rafe! How am I supposed to leave with half of my clothes destroyed?" Y/N protested, eyes still locked on his unmoving form.
Rafe looked up at her, and instead of responding, he ran his fingers through the curls on the top of her pussy, the tips of his fingers just brushing against her clit. She jerked up, instinctively chasing the feeling of his hard fingers on her. He smiled at that, and brushed her clit again, amused by the feeble thrusts of her hips. She had to bite back a frustrated scream as his hands skimmed back up her body.
"I don't know that you've been punished enough, so I don't think I should reward you yet.” Rafe hummed, looking at her disheveled state with dark pleasure.
Y/N set her jaw stubbornly. “I don't want a reward. Just give me some clothes and let me up. I want to go home." She almost believed herself.
Rafe cocked an eyebrow at that, and reached one hand down, skimming the entrance to her hot, throbbing pussy. She couldn't help the whine that escaped, or the twist of her hips, trying to coax him deeper.
"Yeah.” He rasped. “That’s what I thought."
Y/N blushed, feeling it travel down her chest and he watched the skin redden with interest. He tugged her to a sitting position, then pulled her from the bed, dragging her forward a few steps to a floor length mirror.
"You're going to watch yourself as you suck me off.” Rafe informed her, matter-of-factly.
"And what makes you think I'll do that?" She challenged, cheeks still flushed.
"Because I'll return the favor.” He said lowly, pushing on the top of her head.
Y/N couldn't help the wave of heat that rushed through her, or the dig of her teeth into her lip at the thought of him between her legs, his tongue swirling, squirming, and lapping. She clenched her legs, and turned her head, nose in the air.
"You really are just making this harder for yourself.” Rafe said, mildly. "If you would’ve just behaved, I could’ve had my cock buried in you by now."
Y/N tried to feign disinterest, even as her stomach turned over at his dark tone and her eyes flicked to his jeans, his cock clearly straining to get out. Good, if she wasn't getting what she wanted, then he wouldn't either. She twirled away, attempting to bolt through the door, and he pinned her against a wall, dragging his lips up her neck, grinding his erection against her soft, round ass.
"Oh, no.” Rafe breathed. "You're not getting off that easily." He chuckled quietly and at the same time, sent his hand through the air to land on her ass with a sharp crack.
Her eyes widened as heat, then pain flashed through her. Before she could say anything, there was another crack, and another. She attempted to twist her body, but he merely gathered her hands in one of his, and slammed them against the wall, almost certainly bruising her wrists in the process.
That pain was overshadowed by the burning that was climbing up her ass, turning her whole body hot and tense. His hand came down again, again, and, after ten dizzying smacks, his hand came to rest on her ass, rubbing it softly to ease the sting.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" Rafe asked, sounding perfectly in control.
Between pants, she responded, “Bite me."
He clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Wrong answer.”
The pain resumed again, and with each smack, she fought back tears, until she was almost gasping with the effort.
"What about now?"
"I'm sorry!" Y/N finally squealed, as his hand began its descent for the ninth time.
Immediately, his hand was on her livid, inflamed ass, stroking it and running down the broken skin.
"That's better.” Rafe said, against her skin. "Good girl." And she tried so hard to be outraged, but the warmth in his tone made her flush with pleasure, even as his fingers stroked back and forth against her abused bottom.
"Now, do you want to behave, or do you want to keep mouthing off? I could happily spend all day marking up this gorgeous ass.” He said, punctuating his statement with a reverent brush of his fingers on her cheeks, his rough fingerpads leaving a tingling trail.
"I'll behave.” Y/N whispered, shivering and twitching under his gentle touch.
Rafe stroked her hair and turned her around, gently wiping her tears. He put a pillow on the floor and guided her down. She went, flinching at the feel of her bruised ass coming into contact with her legs as she folded them beneath her. She sat still, breath still coming in quick pants, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips nervously.
He looked down at her for a long moment, seeming to enjoy the view, eyes darting over her battered body with heated desire. Then, he dropped his jeans, and Y/N came face to face with a monster.
Unconsciously, she licked her lips again, wincing at her sore ass, her eyes locked on the cock that was about to ravage her throat. She enjoyed blowjobs, but she would rarely deepthroat, her gag reflex far too sensitive for such rough treatment. Her eyes lifted to his, and she shook her head ever so slightly.
"It's too big.” Y/N trailed off diffidently.
With a wolfish smile, Rafe guided his cock to her lips, fingers in her hair and said simply, “Try your best.”
Carefully avoiding her reflection in the mirror, Y/N reached out with one hand. It dwarfed her. She had a vivid flash of being pulled down on top of that cock, her pussy straining as it split her like a log, and her stomach panged with desire, shooting down to her twitching pussy. She could feel her arousal dripping on to the cushion.
Rafe seemed impatient, and rocked his hips forward, smearing her lips and cheeks with his pre-cum. Nervously, she reached up her other hand, and slowly began massaging down the length of his rigid cock. He groaned, eyes half closing, but still fixated on her, undisguised lust and satisfaction in his eyes.
With a quick look upwards at his unwavering gaze, she stretched out her tongue and rasped it along the tip of his cock, savouring the saltiness of the pre-cum glazing her lips. His hips twitched and twisted as she began licking at the top and slowly made her way down and around the length of his cock, before coming to his balls.
Y/N pumped his cock with both hands, her saliva easing the motion, and flicked her tongue over his balls, burying her face in and licking deeply. Rafe pulled her hands away for a moment and rested the length of his cock on her face, his expression feral.
Rafe’s eyes were dark, malicious, and hungry. She regretted, for a brief moment, all the times she had teased him with her body. All the times she had "accidentally" brushed against him, letting him feel her soft curves pressed against him.
Y/N remembered those burning eyes whenever she would eat in front of him, closing her eyes and moaning slightly at the taste. She assumed the hunger in his gaze was for her food. Rafe had been imagining this. There was no doubt this was a fantasy of his, and she wondered what else he had been dying to do to her. Her pussy twitched as she realized she might find out.
Y/N was brought out of her reflections as his cock throbbed against her tongue, bobbing in her mouth. She resumed licking and sucking, cramming inch by inch into her mouth. She got as deep as she could and breathlessly pulled back.
"It's too big.” She insisted, between pants. "I can't fit it all."
His hands stroked her hair, tugging her back on to his dick. Rafe smiled and that really should have warned her as he slammed his cock as deep as he could into her throat. She still only managed half, and gagged viciously around it, saliva starting to pool in her mouth. He pulled her off by her hair, laughing lowly at her indignant look, and dragged her back to his cock.
Each thrust buried his cock further in her throat, blocking her windpipe. She heaved, eyes beginning to roll with panic. She pushed against his thighs, digging her nails in and he let her go. She gagged again as she pulled away from his cock, and took in heaving gulps of air, blinking away the tears in her eyes to glare at him. He traced her swollen lips with his finger and smiled down at her.
"Keep going.” Rafe instructed.
She opened her mouth, fully intending to tell him where he could stick his cock, before the sound of whistling air echoed in her mind. He took advantage of her mouth hanging agape, and crammed his cock back in.
"Keep your eyes open.” He commanded, his voice tight with need.
Y/N pried open her eyes, only for them to squeeze shut as she gagged and convulsed, another half inch sliding down her throat. Rafe pulled his cock out and watched with satisfaction as she came undone, heaving for air, drool dripping from her swollen lips, smeared all over her pretty face, her eyes glazed and faraway.
"Lick my balls.” Rafe instructed, and she was eager to comply.
Y/N sucked and swallowed at his balls, her fingers dancing along them as they gleamed wetly. She buried her face in them, heedless of the drool she was covering herself with. He tugged at her hair, bringing her back up. She drooled and gagged and writhed on his cock, feeling submissive and small, and hornier than she ever had in her life.
Her pussy dripped unabashedly, and without her realizing, one of her hands drifted down. The slightest touch sent a jolt through her, and she would have panted with need, if it weren't for the cock locked in her throat.
"Look at yourself.” Rafe grunted, voice strained with the need to cum.
And she did. She looked terrible. Her makeup was running in streaks, her whole face was shining and red with exertion. There was a manic glint in her eyes, and her pussy was dripping on the pillow as her fingers plucked and pulled at her clit. He reached down and tugged her hand away, placing her hands on his thighs instead.
"No playing with yourself. You were a little brat, so I get to cum first." Rafe growled, tugging on her hair harshly.
Y/N was filled with an impotent anger, and her fingers twisted and scratched at his thighs, curling into fists against his legs. She pulled back, catching her breath, then pounced on his cock again, taking out her frustration with her mouth. He reached his hands down to her neck, wrapping his fingers around her throat.
His hips snapped and her face was mashed into his pubes as she gagged and twisted under his hands. Rafe jerked, groaning her name so lasciviously that her fingers moved from his leg, trying once more to reach her dripping pussy as she felt his cock throbbing in her throat.
Rafe held her there for a while, hips snapping forward as he dumped his cum straight down her throat. As her throat relaxed, she felt him pull out and she collapsed against his legs. His fingers stroked her hair.
"You did so good, Y/N. I never imagined that you could swallow it all." He sounded worn out, too and he continued stroking her. "I'm so proud of you."
Rafe stepped away from her, causing her to whimper in protest. Shame burned hotly for a moment at her neediness, but then he was back, gently cleaning her face with a towel, wiping away her running makeup, and kissing each part as it was cleaned.
Unconsciously, Y/N leaned into the treatment, feeling light and untethered to everything except him. She rubbed her head against his thigh, almost purring with pleasure at his fingers through her hair.
"I knew you were perfect for me, but this just takes the cake.” Rafe muttered, easing her onto the bed.
She blinked at him, sleepy and content, hoping he would curl up next to her, but he settled between her legs instead, spreading them wide. She watched him as he stared at her hungry pussy, grasping for a cock or fingers to fill it. His fingers traced their way up her thighs, his eyes still locked on her streaming cunt.
As his fingers neared her throbbing entrance, she twitched. Her body was overstimulated, and her clit was a live wire, waiting to electrocute her. With gentle fingers, Rafe pried open her pussy lips and stared into her depths as she writhed on the bed, the ache traveling up her entire body.
Y/N needed to cum. She needed to come apart around his fingers and cock and tongue, again and again. He knew this and he was teasing her, pressing open mouthed kisses to her thighs, bumping his nose against her swollen clit, watching as her pussy desperately clenched with need.
"Beg for it. Beg for me to eat you out." Rafe whispered hoarsely.
She whimpered, hands clenching and unclenching, toes curled, eyes squeezed shut as she attempted to catch her breath.
“Come on, Y/N.” He whispered. "Give in to me. You know that you want me just as bad. Beg for me. I want to hear you beg me to lick your sweet cunt."
She whined, attempting again to thrust against him and he caught her, smacking her bruised ass.
"Y/N.” He said warningly, as his mouth began to slide from her.
"I want you to eat my pussy.” She muttered, turning her face to the blanket.
"What was that?" She could picture his lascivious smile and growled unintelligibly.
"Please.” She gritted out, pussy clamping against nothing.
"Please, what?"
"Will you eat me out? Please, Rafe.“
"I don’t know.” His deep voice vibrated through her, shattering her control as she waited with clenched teeth. “I think you can do better." Rafe pulled completely away from her, pressing kisses to her thighs, before pushing himself up.
"Please, eat me out. I need you to bury your face in my cunt. I want to belong to you, and only you. Please, eat me out and make me yours, Rafe.” Y/N struggled to breathe. She was blushing furiously, her entire body taking on a pink hue.
"That’s my girl." Rafe smiled and kissed her thigh again. "Ever since I first laid my eyes on you, you’ve always belonged to me. You’re mine, Y/N.” His voice was dark and possessive, and his hands shot to her thighs, gripping them with bruising force.
Without warning, his tongue dragged up the length of her dripping cunt and she almost screamed. Her throat was too hoarse, however, so what came out was a sad little squeak. Rafe blinked at that, a grin stretching across his face. Her pussy spasmed, and she shrieked into the bed as he lapped his tongue deeper.
Rafe’s tongue flicked around her clit, and her legs clamped either side of his head, locking him in place and drawing him in. She whimpered and squealed, hips thrusting against his lips, and he sucked her clit into his mouth, rotating his tongue around it, and sucking deeper.
Just as the pressure had become almost unbearable, three of his long fingers slammed into her pussy, curling deftly, stroking some secret spot inside her. She wailed and thrashed, clenching clenching around his fingers and face.
"That's it.” Rafe whispered, sounding proud and awed. "You're such a good girl, so fucking sexy.”
Y/N came for what felt like hours, before finally collapsing on the bed, shaking, her pussy quivering and spasming still. He extracted himself, his face dripping, and licked his fingers clean with a satisfied noise, his eyes dark and intent on her as he did.
"Did you know that you're a squirter, Y/N?" Rafe grunted, wiping at his face. She didn’t respond, but instead stared sleepily back, her eyes drifting shut as her lips curled up in satisfaction.
"What a fucking sight.” He mumbled quietly to himself.
Rafe grinned as her limbs dropped to the bed, her mouth agape, her eyes glazed. Her vision swam back into focus, and she glanced up at him. He was kneeling over her, staring. His gaze was possessive and caring, his eyes roving over every inch of her. She twisted around to bury her face in his chest, nuzzling against him with a contented sigh. He sighed as well, draping his arm over her, tracing her curves.
They stayed like this for a while as she dozed, worn out from a long day. Eventually, he got up and she whimpered in protest, catching his arm and looking at him pleadingly.
"I just have to grab something. I'll be right back, baby." The pet name sent heat to her cheeks, and she collapsed back, staring at him as he sauntered out to the living room, still naked.
Y/N started to whimper as he disappeared from the view, craving the feeling of his hands on her again. Her soft whimpers grew louder and louder, and he reappeared in the doorway, holding a glass of water and looking far too amused.
Rafe sat her up and helped her drink, stroking her hair and saying under his breath what a good girl she was, and the words reignited the fire that had burned down in her stomach, sending warmth through her.
Y/N’s eyes began to close, and she shot him a tired, satisfied smile. His hands traced down to her spine as he returned her grin, looking more alive than she could ever remember seeing him.
-
TAGLIST: @lovedetlost @valeriiecameron @outerbankspov @ailee-celeste @adventuresinobx @tee-swizzle @pankowperfection @maybankslover @drewbooooo @penny4yourthoughts @variety-fangirl @fangirlwithlou @thecameronchronicles @lafantasiaworld @softsatnin @glutenfreepeach @blueicequeen19
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actual-changeling · 4 months
Text
Season One meta posts in 2024? Yes, very much so. We need more of that.
Will this be slightly unhinged? Yeah, probably, so welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner.
Everyone has probably connected the kiss back to the wall-slam scene in Tadfield Manor by now, but while I was re-watching it for the nth time and combing through it frame by frame like a mentally sane person, I realised just how orchestrated it was from beginning to end.
I assume we can agree that Aziraphale called Crowley nice on purpose to get a hint of intimacy out of him, but I think this time it is very different from the other instances during which he reacts with anger to being called nice.
My first main observation is the way Aziraphale positions himself.
We pick up after Crowley's explanation about the non-lethal shooting happening outside, and they are facing each other at an angle, with Aziraphale having stopped a few steps behind him.
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Now, until the slam itself, Crowley doesn't move, he remains where he is, waiting. (We'll come back to that in a bit)
However, instead of remaining at a safe distance or standing literally standing anywhere else, he walks a small curve to then stop right in front of Crowley. Not at his side or a little bit away or at a respectable distance—no, right in his face. You can judge his position by looking at the wooden door (?) in the background.
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The following camera position makes it hard to see the amount of distance between their faces, but we know that he must be close enough so that Crowley can immediately grab his coat without problem.
Excuse my art skills, but just to make sure everyone is on the same page, have a little drawing showing their positions and movements.
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Now, that manoeuvring takes Aziraphale a few seconds, and what does he do? He stalls. Look at what exactly he tells Crowley:
You know, Crowley, I've always said that, deep down, you are quite a nice—
There are a lot more words than necessary! He could have shortened that sentence but he didn't, and on top of that, if you listen to him say it, he makes two noticeable pauses, one after 'Crowley with a little look outside, one after 'that'. By then he has reached his final position, so no more stalling, he can try to finish his sentence now.
Alex, you might say now, of course Aziraphale did it on purpose, but Crowley only reacted to what he said.
And to that I respond, nope, he was 100% in on it.
I know because when Aziraphale stops in front of him, he waits. He does not move, he doesn't shut him up even though he has heard the same spiel hundreds of times—no, he is waiting and allowing Aziraphale to initiate their little game.
This face is not the face of someone who is already angry or confused about which words will tumble out of Aziraphale's mouth. He even arches his eyebrow in a motion that I personally interpret as 'go on'.
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Crowley is listening and waiting for the signal, and the moment Aziraphale says 'nice', he grabs him and pushes him up against the opposite wall. It's an extraordinarily quick reaction, the kind you have when you know you're about to act and what you'll do.
Some further evidence that the entire moment was orchestrated by the two of them.
Aziraphale stretches out his arms behind him to brace himself against the wall, he was expecting to be moved that way and intentionally put himself into a position that would allow Crowley to do so.
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Additionally, by grabbing his lapels the way he does, Crowley can make sure that the back of his head doesn't hit the wall. If you watch the clip by yourself and slow it down, you'll discover that Aziraphale gently rests it against the wall on his own while Crowley is talking.
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Aziraphale is completely relaxed not only because he knows Crowley would never hurt him, but also because this entire thing is a game that they willingly participate in. It is dangerously under-negotiated, sure; luckily they more or less agree on the ground rules.
Obligatory close-up with the noise squish because I am a blorbo connoisseur and not a heathen. The little eye gaze at the lips, and if you ask me, and this is my post so you ARE asking me, Crowley is very much looking at Aziraphale's lips from behind his glasses.
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But I have one more observation to make!
I could never quite put my finger on why exactly the scene felt off, but now I am convinced it's because despite the act, Crowley isn't actually upset. There ARE times when Aziraphale actively crosses a boundary and endangers him with his compliments, but this is not one of them. The growling, him baring his teeth, the fact that he is pressing their entire bodies together, him leaning in thar far, and also what the FUCK is he saying?
The excerpt from the script books:
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First part okay, I can buy that, a bit basic but alright. But 'nice is a four letter word'? Where exactly was he going with that and how was that sentence going to end? It's close enough to the topic to pass as real for any outsider who might overhear them, but if you actually listen and try to comprehend it—yeah, no, he was about to go full gibberish.
The goal wasn't to yell at Aziraphale about calling him nice, it was all about prolonging the physical intimacy by holding a monologue.
If you still don't believe me, have a look at their faces when they get interrupted.
Crowley has a "whot?" expression on his face and not a single hint of anger or annoyance. Aziraphale has an expression I will lovingly call "perish you peasant and let my demon husband slam me against a wall in peace".
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If someone gave you only this picture—no context, nothing—what would you assume they were doing before someone rudely interrupted them? Based on what the fuck is happening on their faces and the complete lack of distance between their bodies, you'd probably assume they were snogging each other senseless.
Which they were, in a way, just without the lip contact.
I rest my case.
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ficmenrhot · 4 months
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Hiiii idk if u take requests but if you do could you write a smut with Finnick Odair where basically finnick is eating her out and she’s tooooo overstimulated and reader pulls his hair a little to hard, in which Finnock replies with
“Yank my hair like that again I won’t touch you for a month.”
PLEASEEEE
Self-Control
Pairing: Dom Finnick x whiny fem reader
Notes: oral (fem receiving), punishment, hair pulling, slight degradation, overstimulation, fingering, edging
A/N: OKIE DOKIE so actually, in my head, Finnick loves it when you tuck on his hair but for you I’ll change it a bit, also I slightly altered the idea of the request ;)
Minors DNI
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—————————————
Your shared bedroom is set alight by the pearlescent moonlight shining in through curtain gaps, a light scent of sea salt and musk whiffing through the air from Finnick. The scent is intoxicating; you’re sprawled out on the ruffled sheets with Finnick buried between your legs, your loud moans echoing through the room.
The two of you had attended a party earlier on, and from the lack of attention you received from Finnick who was too busy socialising with the other victors, you decided to tease him in hope that he would finally satiate the immense desire you felt. You tried to pull many tricks-softly running your fingers down his arms, tugging on his sleeves needily, and batting your eyelashes at him knowing he can’t resist.
“Honey, I know that you’re needy tonight, I’ll give you what you want when we go home, I promise,” he’d say at your attempts to break him, but you’d whine with a slight pout, unable to wait any longer.
Finnick’s last straw was at dinner when you decided to run your hand up and down his thigh underneath the table cloth, circling that sweet spot of his through the fabric of his pants. Finnick is a patient man, and you knew you were in deep trouble when he sent a stern look your way instead of his usual sweet ‘not now’.
This is how you end up with your legs wrapped around Finnick’s head, hands tugging on his golden blonde hair, as he continues with his assault on your clit. His tongue skilfully flicks and draws patterns on your swollen clit as he fucks you with two thick fingers at a torturously fast pace. You feel your climax building up for the fourth time tonight but is denied that sweet release as Finnick purposely pulls his fingers out before plunging them in your heat again.
You mewl as your climax is ripped away from you once more, feeling so overly stimulated. Your face is tearstained, whining as you accidentally pull at Finnick’s hair a little too hard, making him groan whilst his mouth is still attached to your clit, sending vibrations through your body.
“Careful now, sugar,” Finnick warns as his teeth gently grazes your clit as a warning, making you whimper quietly.
“I-It’s too much…I said I’m sorry Finn, I’ll never do it again…please let me come” you beg, sounding so desperate as you attempt to grind on his face, earning some friction.
“Please-”
Finnick lifts his head up from your throbbing heat, scoffing as he tilts his head at you, his fingers continuing to thrust deeply as he stares you in the eye with a mocking look.
“I expected better than you honey, but you acted like a desperate whore. I told you I would give you what you wanted when we came back home but you were just such an impatient little slut, weren’t you?”
Finnick sneers, his pearly white canines flashing as he does so, “you really can’t go an hour without riding my fingers huh?”
His head dives back between your legs, angling his fingers, and he finds that sweet spot once more which makes your back arch in pleasure. He adds his tongue once more, circling and tracing figure eights on your clit which makes your body shudder and mouth agape.
Finnick has been edging you for nearly an hour, denying you releases after releases, and the overstimulation you feel is almost painful. Every single touch drives you insane and the sensitive you feel is certainly not helping.
Finnick suddenly switches to sucking your clit instead, and you have to use every strength in your body to stop yourself from coming right then or else the punishment would be worse. You forget about Finnick’s warning from earlier, and you accidentally yank at his hair, a raspy growl falling from his lips.
“What did I tell you huh, sugar?”
“Mark my words honey, tug at my hair like that again and I won’t let you come for a month, let alone touch you. It’s time to teach you some self control.”
You whimper at his words. If only you had listened.
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A/N: to whoever requested this, I hope it lived up to your expectations. I did kind of change it a bit so I’m sorry if it’s different to what you wanted 😭 once again, reblog and likes are appreciated, a follow would be great :)
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rafescurtainbangz · 3 months
Note
watching porn with rafe
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+18 Minor DNI
800 words
Rafe x Female Reader
Master list: link
Tag list: link
Tags: @imyourdaninow @romaescapes @randymeeksistheloml @waywardsoul113 @gri959 @redhead1180
Valentine's Day… What do you get your boyfriend? The man who has everything and anything he's ever wanted, including you.
You pass him the little gift bag, watching his eyes sparkle as he takes it in, knowing he’ll most likely get something shiny purchased on his card. He humors you sweetly nonetheless, giving you that smile that makes your heart race a little faster.
His eyebrows pinch together as he pulls out the flash drive. “What do we have here?” He eyes the little device in his large palm, his curiosity peaks, turning the faux surprise genuine. He looks down at you, waiting for your response, but you simply shrug and giggle. “Alright. Alright. Let's see what my girl got me. Yeah?”
He whisks you off your kitten-heeled feet, taking you into his arms, walking down the long hallways of Tanneyhill to his master bedroom. You let out a little gasp as you take everything in, the usual gifts and flowers, but Rafe loves how excited you get each time, regardless.
“Rafey…” You coo, making the high-points of his cheeks blush as you fawn over his sweetness and how well he takes care of you.
“Daddy’s always got you. You know that, princess,” he hums, dressing your new Tiffany necklace around your throat as he kisses his way to your ear. “Can't wait to see what you got me, baby girl.”
"Why don't you get comfortable? And I'll go put something on," you whisper onto his lips, to which he happily obliges.
You stroll over to the nightstand, littered with gifts purchased by Rafe, eyeing the lingerie sets.
“Somethin’ pink, princess,” he aids.
You change quickly, slipping into the matching silk robe before stepping into your heels again. Snagging the flash drive, you pop it into the tv, sauntering toward the bed as Rafe stalks your movements with a preditory stare, waiting for you to drop the delicate fabric.
His eyes are only on you for a moment before the roll back; Rafe grabbing for you fast, drawing you closer. You straddle his legs, feeling his cock, hard between your thighs.
"Tonight is going to be a good night," he smiles; his hands drifting around to your ass, gripping tightly.
"Mmm... All night long?"
"All night long, angel. Gonna make you so dumb you forget your own name,” he chuckles raspily against your glossy lips.
"You want your gift, daddy?"
“This is enough, truly,” he mumbles as he slides your bra straps off your shoulders. “But I'm a greedy man, honey. Let me have it.”
You reach over to the nightstand, grabbing the remote, pressing play. Rafe’s eyes double with his devilish smile as he takes a rough grip on your curves. “Fuck, was this Moracco?” He rasps. “Did you record-” His voice trails off as he watches your naked body come into frame before adjusting the camera slightly, ensuring the perfect angle for him. “Holy shit. My girl looks fuckin’ good,” he moans before slapping your ass. “God damn. C’omere, princess.”
He snaps at the little band of your thong guiding you to slip it off. You finger the clasp of your bra flicking that away before relaxing your back into his muscular chest. Rafe snuggles into you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist as you kiss on camera.
"Look at how good we look. Shit," he sighs; kissing you gently on the neck; drifting up toward your ear. "My own personal pornstar," he groans, sinfully. His soft voice in your ears gives you the giggles. "Ugh... Not the giggle too. Just kill me, princess."
He draws his hands up to your breasts, taking a hold of them, massaging them in his large palms. He circles your nipples slowly, making you whine.
“Fuck, I gotta big dick. You think she’s gonna take it all in that tight little pussy?” He taunts. Rafe’s hand drifts over your naval, lowering to your sex, his other hand resting lightly on your throat.
He massages the inside of your thighs with a heavy hand; dangerously close to where you're craving him most. "Mmm..." you purr. He grabs your chin roughly, directing you toward his lips.
You let out an airy sigh when he slides his fingers through your folds; the tip of his ringed digits dipping in and out of your entrance. His fingers rub around your clit; small waves of pleasure with every stroke of the hand.
“We’re gonna watch this again and again,” his fingers mirror his words; a smile felt against your lips.
“Please, daddy.”
“So polite, princess. So good f’me. Look at you take my cock. Fuck m’givin’ it to you so good," he hums.
"So - So good," you pant as Rafe adds more friction. "Just like that." You plead. Rafe kisses your neck roughly; your heart starts beating faster.
He lets out a wicked laugh as you repeat yourself on camera. “Yes, Rafe just like that. Fuck!” Your desperate cries come pouring out of the tv speakers. He repeats your words teasingly through kisses which only makes you wetter, the squelching of your own pussy making the video hard to hear.
"Bet you can't wait for me to stuff you full of my cock. Hmm? Look at you beg for me. I'm ruining you, honey. Jesus fuck. N’you’re just takin’ me like the whore you are,” he grunts. Rafe adds all four fingers, his strong hands rubbing your bundle of nerves. You hit your crescendo. "That's it, baby," he growls. "Cum for me."
You feel yourself pulsing; shockwaves gripping your body as you ride the waves of your orgasm. Rafe’s fingers slip along your pussy, sinking in and out of your entrance slowly, just playing with you, letting you soak in all your pleasure.
You watch yourself fall apart on camera as Rafe cums with you. The two of you reaching for air, panting and kissing between breathes as he plays with the cum slipping out of your soaked hole, before stuffing it deep inside.
He lift his finger to his lips, sucking them clean before reaching for the remote.
“Round two, princess.”
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keen-li · 3 months
Text
COOKIES
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A/n: just a little quickie
Military au
....
I brought you some of your favourite cookies I made" you smile warmly at the man in uniform infront of you. You stretch out the little bag showing him how much effort you put into bagging the goods.
And as he opens the contents of the bag, he admires the effort you also put into making it. You didn't have to, he told you this before, but you did and he appreciates it still . He knows it's one of your ways of showing him you care and love him. Plus you wouldn't listen even if he told you.
Back home you and him always made these little cookies with weired faces on them. "The weirder the face the sweeter they are" you'd say smiling like a child as you drew onto a cookie.
He'd just stare at you and admire the energy you put into it.
"I think that's very true considering how sweet you are" he says wrapping his arms around you to trap you from moving. When what he said registers you gasp
"Hey!!!" You yell and try to move in his grip but fail. He finds it amusing, cause you can't do anything and he has you trapped, that's why he did it so he can hear you whine and complain.
"Are you saying I have a weird face?" You whine energy wearing out. Jungkook let's out a chuckle and your face scrunches up in faux anger.
"Not really..." he starts "but sometimes" he moves he's head around as if pondering on times when he thought your face was weird.  Of course he doesn't think your face is weird, he loves your face; loves to place many tiny kisses on it and loves watching your expressions change according to what your thinking. You also know that he doesn't think your face is weird, you just play along cause you know that's how you tease each other.
You elbow hum lightly and his wall falters and you're set free. You immediately turn to start placing tiny (unharmful) slaps on his chest.
"Sometimes when huh?" You egg on and you continue to slap his chest, his very hard chest that's not affected by your weak blows.
"Like now" He says through your hits and at his words you throw a heavier slap that echos in your quiet shared apartment.
You pause fearing you've crossed a boundary. Yes he's your boyfriend and you've been together a while but  you're still kind of afraid of crossing boundaries,  especially the ones you are unaware of. Jungkook notices the little pout on your face and knows what you're thinking,  he doesn't know how many times he's going to tell that there's no blow that you can hit him with that's gonna hurt him, unless you kick him in the nuts.
"Hey that's all you've got?" He acts mockingly trying to lighten the mood, and with the scoff you let out he knows you know that he doesn't mind.
"I outta take you to the gym, your punches are kinda disappointing" you chuckle at him as you turn back to your cookies.
"i don't need the gym, I walk enough stairs and carry enough files at work" your wrist rolls as you draw your weird faces.
"And how do those things help with you learning to throw a good punch" he wraps his arms around your waist and closes the space between. Your stomach does a little flip as you feel his closeness, it feels like the first time everytime he does that. You hope he never stops.
"I don't need to learn to throw a punch..." you bend a little to get the right angle for the face you're making and as you do you brush against jungkook and he can't help but groan.
"...I have you" he can hear the smile and confidence in your voice. He's happy that you find confidence and safety in him, but he's not always gonna be around and those moments make him sick. Sometimes he wishes he could become a diety so that he can watch over you and protect you, but its not a fairytale and he knows he can't always be around. He always tries to make you understand that but you always take it as a joke. He doesn't know this but you do understand him and where he's coming from but you're just avoiding the reality of things.
"I won't always be around" his voice softens as he breath brushes past your neck and his head is quite heavy on your shoulder.
"Oh yeah? And where are you gonna go?" You say wanting to bring up the topic you've both been avoiding but needs to be had.
"The military?" You finish for him knowing he's not gonna say it.  You chuckle at the little sigh he lets out.
Your bodies disconnect and you regret bringing it up,the cold of the apartment finally getting to you. You know he isn't mad, its just hard to have serious conversations when your ass keeps brushing past his growing hard-on.
 He goes to stand on the opposite side of the island sighing as if ready to have the conversation. Your demeanour becomes a little more serious and your face falls as you hope you don't cry. You're the one who brought it up anyways,  but it's good, you need to face this.
"Do you think you'll be okay" his soft voice airs out.
You sigh and hope your tears don't fall and salten the cookies. You don't have an answer for him, you've never had the answer to that question. You can only hope.
"I hope I'll be okay" your voice fades out quite early at the end.
Jungkook knows its gonna be hard for the both of you. Sometimes he wishes he'd met you after he'd already served but that's not possible. He's glad he met you before though, gives him a reason to complete the service, come back home and now actually start life with you; like proposing. He wanted to propose to you before he left but he's mother told him he should do it after and he agrees. Proposing to you before he leaves feels like he's tying you to him and making and forcing you wait for him. He doesn't want to make you feel obligated to wait for him.
"You can move on you know" you roll your eyes once you hear him, you hated when he said stupid things and he often did when he got sentimental.
"Jungkook please" you chuckle "move on?"
You lift your eyes and they meet his doe ones, he should really hear how silly he sounds.
"Yeah, I don't want to make you feel tied to me. You you can move on find some dude who's already done his service and start the life you want" even though it leaves a burning bitter taste on his tongue and heart, he says it anyways. He doesn't even mean a single word, if he could he'd take you with him or he wouldn't even go.
You don't even react to him, knowing he's just spewing nonsense.
"And you'd be okay with that me starting a life with someone else?"
No.  Of course not. He'd rip the dude's head off once he found him.
"If it's what you want" you can hear the lies through his tone and demeanour.  You know jungkook wouldn't want that, he hates the idea and you know it would kill him cause it kills you too.
"You're acting like you're going away forever" you force a smile, it isn't forever but even a day away from him feels like eternity, what more him being away for months?
You hear him release a chuckle.
"Plus I've given you 4 years of my life, why would I throw that away. Its not like when you leave I'll stop loving you. Yeah I will miss you, yes I will cry but its not gonna hurt so bad that'd I'd want to move on or find someone else"
He listens to you and is happy you feel like that cause he does too, he could honestly just propose to you now but he'll still do it after.
"Babyy" he coos. He stands and walks up to you, immediately turning you around and capturing your cheeks with his palms. It's the first time he's heard how you feel about it, but in all honesty it's the first time you've just talked about it. There's still more to talk about but today's a good start.
"I'm going to miss you soooo much" he places a peck on your lips and you place your hands on his waist.
"I'll think about you everyday, I'll go through everyday knowing I'm a day closer to coming back to you. I'll do this so I can come back to you an we can make all the weird faced cookies of yours"
He kisses you softly again. You just lean into his kiss.
"Promise me something jungkook" your lips are only millimetres from his.
"Yeah baby"
"Don't think about me too much okay" you stroke his sides more to comfort yourself,those tears you've been holding are making their way. Jungkook holds you tighter noticing.
"I can't do that. I don't like lying"
And the flood gates open. This is gonna be harder than you thought.
The smell of the sweet cookies makes jungkook smile and he's already blushed cheek blush more. He pulls one out.
He let's out a laugh.
"Kept the weird faces huh?" he smiles and takes a bite, tastes like comfort and everything's he's been missing.
"Why would I change them. Told you the weirder the sweeter" you speak happiness in your tone cause you've finally gotten to see him. You grab a cookie from the bag and take a bite aswell. After having a couple more he rolls up the bags and packs it.
"I should hide these before someone else wants some" you chuckle at his words. Jungkook isn't the most generous when it comes to the things you make for him and he's not afraid to admit that.
"Not even one?" You mock.
"Nope. They can go tell their girlfriends to do that." He adjusts his uniform that you've been admiring him in. "But most of the guys don't have girlfriends so that's a shame for them" you both laugh.
"How's your friend jimin." You ask suddenly remembering him. Jungkook's surprised you remember him but again how can you forget the person you made you two start dating.
"He's okay. Been kicking his ass in training though" he pats himself on the shoulder with his tone.
"Take it easy on him,"  you try an bargain for jimin.
"There's no time for nursery care here baby" he stretches his hand out for you to take it and you do.
"Want me to show you my room?" He says pulling you towards a building.  He feels your hesitation and turns to you with a lifted brow.
"Am I even allowed there?" You bite your inner cheek.
"Yeah I can get permission if you want though."
You'd prefer he gets permission first you don't need him in trouble. And so you nod which hums to.
You start walk to jungkook's superior's office.
"Did I tell you how strong your hand feels" you say admiring the veins on his hands and the way he holds your hand for dear life.
"Is it?" He squeezes your hand slightly.
"Yep, gonna put them to work when you get back home" you rejoice swinging his arm.
"Is working ever gonna end for me?"  He whines.
"Nope.Never"
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nocturnalstarlet · 2 months
Text
thinking abt bf!felix catton today!!
bf!felix who takes you to your favourite boutiques and sits in the little seat in the changing room watching you try things on because he’d miss you too much if he was standing outside the changing room.
bf!felix who loves watching you try on your little outfits that he knows wouldn’t be appropriate to wear to dinner with his family but he likes the way your eyes light up and you twirl for him in front of the mirror to show him all the angles of an outfit you love.
bf!felix who literally doesn’t let you do anything by yourself even if you tell him that you can because you’re his and he wants to show that he can take care of you. you have not held a single one of your library books nor your own bags if you ever take one out with you.
bf!felix who loves to take you out to clubs and parties so that he can show you off to all of his friends and pull you closer when you dance under the multicoloured strobe lights.
bf!felix who holds your shoes in one hand while holding your hand in the other when your feet get tired of dancing in them and making sure to give you the best massage when you get back from a night out.
bf!felix who showers you in kisses day in and day out. kisses on your forehead, kisses on the palm of your hand, kisses on your cheeks, kisses on your lips that linger but it never feels like long enough for him.
bf!felix who walks up to you when you’re having a conversation with someone else in the courtyard and announces his presence by wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and kissing the crown of your head.
bf!felix who pouts whenever you call him anything other than a nickname. “it’s literally your name, felix” “i know but please stop calling me that.” :(((
bf!felix who loves to say “my” before calling you his wide array of pet names. my love. my baby. my darling.
bf!felix who needs your attention every second and who fully pouts if he doesn’t get it.
bf!felix who likes to lay his head on your lap while you run your fingers through his hair, especially when it’s getting longer and he knows he needs a haircut but you always tell him how much you like it longer.
bf!felix who leaves you embarrassingly bad but adorable little love letters and cute drawings on the corners of your papers with your favourite pens that you have to hide in your dorm (because he steals them from you).
bf!felix who is the sweetest, kindest, most generous bf you could ever ask for. who you understand more than anyone else ever will. and he knows that you have always seen all of him and loved him unconditionally which quite frankly he’s just not used to.
ur honour i love him such a normal amount-
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