Tumgik
#i have no idea if anyone else watched this growing up or if i was weird for it
rayas-ryoiki-tenkai · 22 hours
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something a little different
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• tags: gojo/reader, 18+ minors dni, vibrator, semi-public smut
• summary: the vibrator presses against your clit and it drives gojo wild
•°. *࿐ this story contains explicit themes. minors dni •°. *࿐
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"It's fairly silent," soft, white hair bounces when he tilts his head, "no one will know."
He's watching you, peering down beyond his blackout sunglasses to what muscle twitches where, how you fill your chest slowly and expel in a sigh. You're thinking about it, of course, the tempting thrill, a silent pleasure that will shift so loudly in your bones. Gojo can already spot how your thighs attempt to shake the exciting tickle off them.
"It's not a cursed tool, is it?"
Gojo shakes his head chuckling, but damn if it was, he'd have found all there was to find in the archive back in his clan's base. Not that he seemed fond of rummaging through anyone's underwear, something told Satoru that cursed tool sex toys weren't a thing.
"I will have the remote, obviously," he leans further into the seat to spread his legs. God, even the thought of you searching his eyes in a crowd when you're fighting the stimulation on your clit, that plead to give you a merciful moment to breathe, what a pretty sight you'd be.
You bite your nails.
He gestures a lipstick-sized, and disguised, bullet vibrator to you in two feeble fingers. It dangles in a tease, calling to you in a breathy whisper, or maybe that's just Gojo.
You know it'll feel so good. A stir in your pelvis that your boyfriend could push over if he so willed it. You'll shake and cry.
"Fine," you give into the fire in his eyes, an ice that burns. You know something pulls you into him despite the evergrowing list of 'maybe this'll be a bad idea' festering in the forefront of your mind. Because if things go wrong, if you need swooping away from a messy situation, you just had to say the word.
Gojo stands up and your spine stiffens. His steps are paced, deliberate, kissing the tension with soft praises as he steps closer. His breath fans down your face, bright eyes drinking up the both of yours before resting on the plump part of your lips.
A finger trails at the base of your throat and he drags it up your windpipe, relishing in the nervous swallow that shifts the movement. Bony ridges and pliant skin, Satoru pulls his finger up underneath your chin, savoring the jittery wash of electricity that rushes through you.
You feel light. A breath. Your chest runs rampant from his closeness, the sheer intensity of his scent setting back your resolve as you stare at his lips too. Pretty and pink, one of the softest parts of him considering he's all slim built and toned muscle everywhere else. He inches to press them onto yours weakly, as if he hadn't decided how to merge your mouths together this time.
They grow firm when his finger and thumb tilt up your chin. A sure, needy thing. He kisses into you hard and sharp like a parched man, staggering in search for lady lake in vast heat. Open-mouthed and so fucking wet. And he's found his drink, favoring his sweet tooth with your sweet tongue.
Playing with your tongue, his other hand plays with the strap of your pants, catching onto the band of your underwear. You squeak into his mouth when his hand dips to place the vibrator into position against your clit.
Gojo smiles against your lips.
"You'll take it, right?" He breathes.
"I'll take it."
You submit.
-.--.-
"Shh shh," Gojo's palm squeezes around your mouth, catching loud moans before they fall on the ears of the public. Your fingers tighten in his shirt. Fuck, it feels so good.
The restaurant was oblivious to how you rocked your hips in one of their booths, a needy sight for Satoru to drink up and have his own problem in his jeans.
Purposely on the lowest setting, you ached for more, but Satoru was no where near to grant you that mercy. So, you turned to extreme methods.
Lifting your drink, you stuck your tongue out to curl around the straw, wet and sloppy. You sucked with a sensual hum in your throat, looking at him through your lashes. Gojo caught the full extent of your show and it shot straight to his crotch.
Oh, so you wanted to play that game?
Now, he presses you into the bathroom door, edging the intensity until your cheeks flush, your eyes lose focus and your knees buckle, just to knock it down again to leave you hanging. You dread at the sound of the remote clicking when you get so, so close to coming, Gojo abruptly tuning the vibrating near null.
So blissfully painful, your clit feels like it's on fire. The overstimulation stirs into an impending orgasm, but it's just not enough.
"Baby, you look so good like this," Satoru purrs, his breath tickling in your ear. You're desperately clinging onto him, fingers bunching into fabric, flexing and shaking as if you couldn't decide what to do with them. Gojo is drunk on the power, dizzy with how your pretty little face stretches into pretty little expressions. That curl of your brows. Your jaw hanging low.
You hum loudly against his hand, erotic and messy.
He all but watches you, gives you the attention to feel the spotlight of his flashy blue eyes, and it spurs you on more. Your thighs lack the strength but they squeeze together still; you just need a little bit more.
Fuck, it feels like your skin could burn through your clothes, your nipples painfully stiff against your dress and bra. Gojo drags his lips along your neck, hovering close enough to wash your body in pure electric bliss.
Metal clanks as Gojo unbuckles his belt, a hand immediately freeing his straining issues. He pulls a packet from his pocket, rips it with his teeth and rolls the condom to the base of his cock. Fuck, the way your eyes glaze over at his cock like you could already feel him fucking you into the door until you collapsed.
The desire runs rampant. You buck your hips.
Your words muffle behind his hand. The buzz of the vibrator almost drowns you out. He hears you clear enough anyway.
"Please, Satoru," he lifts from your mouth to hear you say it, "Let me cum, please. Fuck me good."
Your hands are shaky, finding uncertain purchase on his shoulder as he lines himself up, the angry tip of his cock coaxing itself with your leaking juices. The vibrator buzzes idly on the floor. Your breath is unsteady.
One push in and you're already so close.
Shit, he fills you up so good and so easily.
He bottoms out and stills. Your moans shift a pitch higher, so close to pulsing around the glorious shape of him in your walls. If he moves the slightest, you're so done for.
And fuck, he does.
Pulling out slightly to ogle at how wet you're around him, he slams back in to the hilt, kissing the spot that makes you shake the most. And you cum immediately, a loud pornographic moan right into his ear, your lower back pushing into him to shake off the insistent edging he gave you.
"Fuck," he mutters, and by God you feel so good fluttering around his cock, so warm and wet. His hips jut forward of their own accord, he can't hold it back any longer.
And he thrusts a sloppy pace to fuck you through your orgasm and rile up the next, the smacking and squelching of your hips spurring him on to fasten the pace. You cling to him, ankles locked around his waist, arms locked around his neck; you know you'd fall if he moved you away from the door.
Fuck, fuck, you feel it squirming again, your breaths stagger once more.
The bathroom door handle shakes, and when it doesn't budge, a loud knock resounds.
Before you have the voice to gasp, your head thuds the door and Gojo clamps your mouth with his palm again. His sunglasses are thrown wherever, and bright cerulean locks with your eyes. His pale eyebrows are curled dangerously.
He fucks harder, faster and for some unbeknownst reason, louder. His hips thrust purposefully, rough and angry, how dare someone impose on his focus to fuck you good?
Satoru rests his forehead on yours, daring you to pull away from the eye contact, not that you wanted to anyway. The sheer will to making you come apart on his cock again only added to your commencing orgasm. That wild look. A starved beast behind the front of wolfish grin.
The door knocks again.
Gojo snarls. His hips smack painfully and you whimper under his palm. Tears fall on the back of his hand. Your toes curl, teetering on the edge of another mind-fucked orgasm. Your eyes roll back. Your hums grow short and high.
"Shit," Gojo hisses when you clamp around him and immediately pulses inside of you as he cums. Cushiony walls milk him deliciously and he messily thrusts into you to ride it out. His breath is heavy, spent. Your chest pushes into him as you breathe shakily.
Satoru drops the palm on your lips. You can't help but laugh.
He certainly made you shake and cry.
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stormikitty · 2 days
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Vaggie's Past
I've seen tons of fics and tumblr posts with 2 different ideas about Vaggie's past. 1 being that she had a human life before she became an exorcist angel, and the other being that she grew up in heaven and was raised by Adam and Lute and the other exorcists. Idk which 1 I like better, but I have headcanons for both. And I've sort of imagined conversations for how the other characters would find out?
1:Vaggie had a human life:
Charlie: Hey Vaggie? Are you heavenborn, or a human soul?
Vaggie: it's complicated? When a human soul becomes an exorcist, the first part of their training involves magic induced amnesia. They're forced to forget everything about their lives including their own name, and they're given a new 1. I know I was a human at some point, but I don't remember anything. Some things stick, like languages, and some strong feelings about certain things even if there's a lack of context for it, but I don't remember who I was or any of the people I might've known. Every earthborn exorcist has maybe 1 vivid memory from their life, but it never actually tells them anything about who they used to be or who they know. I think that's to make it easier to erase any individuality more quickly and make us forget if any of our morals didn't originally align with what exorcists do. Turns us into perfect soldiers quicker. If I remembered my real name, I probably wouldn't be going by the 1 that Adam gave me. He literally named me after a vagina.
Chalie: *hugging Vaggie*
Anyone else who heard this: ...
2: Heavenborn Vaggie:
Vaggie: I was never a child.
Angel Dust: What did you just come into existence fully grown or something?
Vaggie: No, I still had to grow and develop like anyone else would.
Husk: Then you were a child.
Vaggie: I was raised to be the perfect soldier since the moment I was born. A soldier isn't allowed to be a child.
Everyone: WHAT?!
Charlie: Why didn't your parents protect your from that?
Vaggie: A lot of exorcist angels are born from flowers instead of other angels. I was 1 of them. I was raised by exorcists and grew up with exorcists.
Alastor or Angel Dust: You were born from a flower? Like Thumbilina?
Husk: They took away your childhood?!
Vaggie: Yeah. I had to be a gown up almost as soon as I could start walking and talking.
Nifty: What was it like being raised by exorcists? Other than the fact that you weren't allowed to be a kid?
Vaggie: I was surrounded by high standards and expectations I had to meet and not allowed to have much if any individuality. Exorcists aren't even given names until after their 1st extermination. They have numbers until then. Also, you know how exorcists have those black stipes on their wings? Those don't appear until their 1st extermination either. Also I was taught to value loyalty and strength more than anything else. Loyalty goes above strength, but not by much. And the second I showed even the slightest hesitation to follow an order, I was cast out of heaven in probably 1 of the most brutal and painful ways possible by 1 of the people I trusted the most. So there's that.
Everyone: *ready to throw hands with some exorcists again*
Charlie: *crying*
Nifty: ... Wanna build a pillow fort and watch cartoons?
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illubean · 1 day
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can i request headcanons of any hxh characters your choice (preferably including illumi, chrollo, and/or feitan) with a crush on/unestablished relationship with a gender neutral reader who refuses to fully align themselves with anyone but has an incredibly OP ability that requires their blood or body (can shoot blood in like spikes, detach their limbs to chase down and drag back runners, use their blood and/or tears to heal wounds, can just regrow lost limbs including their head, ect.) that would make being on their bad side more trouble then it's worth
so every fight they kind of /have/ to get injured to use it. Plus their ability weirdly doesn't seem to use nen (chrollo can't copy it and gyo doesn't show anything, ect.)
and when they're finally asked about it they're casually like "oh yeah, I'm not human. I was actually created to be an unstoppable force that infects and destroys humanity, but that's honestly too much work. Plus you give me snacks so I'd rather just hit whoever you tell me to." and their reactions to the fact this insanely overpowered goober they've fallen for is a stray shapeshifting little abomination who could have murdered the entire human race and that they're lowkey lucky reader likes getting bribed them so much
(Sorry if that's too long btw, I thought you'd like the idea but I couldn't think of a better way to condense it 😅)
HXH With an Unaligned!OP!Reader
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Characters: Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader
i do not like how this came out but posting anyways lol...
Warnings: mentions of blood, experimentation and violence, reader isn't human if that counts as a warning
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Illumi Zoldyck
the way you met Illumi was... not ideal to say the least
he was on a job to kill some scientist guy but little did he know scientist guy had quite literally created a monster
the day he was going to do his mission happened to be the day your power was finally realized
annnndddd Illumi walked in on you killing scientist guy and literally everyone else who worked for him
you had managed to pop your arms off and launch them like missiles, turn your blood into weapons and spikes around the room and also not die????? and grow your limbs back???????????
the weird part was Illumi couldn't sense any of your aura at all
he just assumed you were a super advanced nen user and were able to still keep up hatsu really well while fighting
which led him to the conclusion that he should either A. run away or B. try and get you on his side
when you noticed him just standing there you turned to stare at him like come at me bitch
"So? Are you here to poke me with more needles like the others? It won't end very well." "Actually I was here for the guy in the lab coat, but it seems like you did the job for me."
realizing he wasn't a threat (or trying to be because you know...you cant die) you let down your guard down
you ended up just following him around after that, not really having anywhere else to go so Illumi decided on plan B
turns out it took a lot less manipulating than he thought
he brought you to the estate and you agreed to help him with whatever for a popeyes chicken sandwich
watching how you wandered around the estate aimlessly and lounged about Illumi quickly realized you only use your abilities when threatened or bribed
so you become his personal little treat fueled killing machine
he takes you on missions with him because he doesn't trust you alone at the estate...
eventually he asks you about how your hatsu is so good and you're like wtf is that
and he's like What.
you tell him you we're pretty much created in that lab and they did all these tests and stuff and you didn't even really know how or why you had the power you did but you found out you did the day you met
and you were all like "they were so annoying and they told me to do stuff for free, I'd never kill you though you feed me :3"
he is so glad you are clueless and he got to you before anyone else because you could take over the entire world if you really wanted to
he is going to marry you ASAP
but again, you being clueless did not understand what marriage entails
and you agreed for the same reasons you agreed to literally anything else this man has asked of you
you are Illumi's most prized possession and no matter how freaky you are, he really does cherish you as normal people would their spouse
Chrollo Lucilfer
running into you on a heist was definitely unexpected
especially since you looked like you just got out of captivity
mistaking him for an enemy you shot your fist off at him and barely missed
and he was like woah im not an opp dw
then your hand grows back and hes like !?
he asked why you were there you explain that you were some sort of war weapon yada yada yada the guys got annoying you killed them and yeah
and Chrollo offers you to come back w him and the troupe and you're like sure if you feed me
so after the heist is over Chrollo takes you back to Phantom Troupe hq and then talks with the gang blah blah blah dismisses everyone and then takes you to wherever the hell and buys you whatever you want to eat
and while you're stuffing your face bro is like
"Your powers are pretty impressive. Mind telling me how they work?"
and not caring you tell him, mainly focused on your meal
and he's like huh what a useful ability time to steal it
one thing leads to another and he somehow gets you to touch his weird book and when he flips to where your nen should be the page is blank and he is insanely confused
and hes like "Why didn't my nen ability work on you?"
and you're like wtf is nen
and hes like oh my god I don't think this thing is human
so he asks
and you're like "I literally told you I'm a war weapon. A weapon created for war, but that's too much work."
now he is confused but also intrigued
he offers for you to join the troupe and you're like
"But being in a gang is so much wooorrrkkkkkuuuuhhhh"
you can literally destroy man kind but you don't because you're LAZY!?
you're not officially part of the troupe but you're practically an honorary member because you follow Chrollo around after your first encounter
and he decides it 's better than nothing
Feitan Portor
I can't think of a clever way for you guys to meet LMAO
umm uhhh idk maybe you were created to take out the chimera ants and happened to get deployed in meteor city the same time the troupe was hunting down the 'queen'
so when the troupe got there you were already fighting some ants
you look human enough but your abilities make Feitan think you might not be
soooo he tries attacking you before he ended up getting to the lizzard ant crocodile lady thing i don't remember what she was
and he couldn't beat you and you're like wtf do you want from me I'm trying to do my job
and hes like ??? you're not an ant?
and youre like no
and hes like oh and leaves you alone
then he throws the entire sun at the ant lady and leaves the building
he kinda forgot about you until he felts something lift the back of his cloak
and he's like !!?!?!??!
and he looks behind him to see you crawled under his coat and took the snacks he hides under there for himself
and he's like what the fuck
how did you even know he had those???? (you could smell it because you have super enhanced everything)
ok i just remembered his cloak got destroyed in this scene but pretend it didn't
anyways he snatches the bottom of it away from you and tries taking the snacks back out of your hands but you are quick to dodge
he's irritated but he just lets you have them he's too tired to deal with this
you end up following him after this like a lost puppy and the rest of the troupe is like ??????
but they can't get rid of you
and on the way out of meteor city you were like yap yap yap weapon yap yap created in a lab yap yap yap immortal
feitan could not care less about what you had to say but he was like ??? to the immortal thing
maybe you weren't a bad thing to keep around
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Sooo... Can we talk about Vox and Alastor Cause I'm literally obsessed...
Basically headcanons since of course I seen the post running around where Viv calls their relationship sad and complicated.
Being an 'angst-girlie' I HAVE to gobble this up so here's a few headcanons I immediately thought about.
Mentions of Valentinos acts against humanity so watch out for that. A bit, like a smidge, of kissing and making out mentioned as well.
For Starters
I happily wrote a fanfic for pics that @milariro drew (lovely artist, check em out!) and I think Valentino definitely plays a big roll in the fallout.
So Vox and Alastor were pals yeah, hung out, chit chatted, ate food together, even got close enough for Alastor to feel comfortable doing more intimate actions like cuddling and hugging and such.
I can't help but think of Vox perhaps being on the Acespectrum himself? He's giving "I will but I don't have to" so I get more demi vibes off of him. He probably doesn't give a fuck about anyone else like he does with Alastor so that's why.
I think he could build intimacy with others yes but he's so focused on his work usually outside of his competition.
Vox probably came to hell and started off really small and little so as he grew, he wanted to grow and took his time to try and get bigger. I would say that Valentino could come in here if not later when Vox seemed to develop feelings for Alastor and in doing so Alastor wants to return those said feelings but he's scared.
Scared of what? The unknown.
He probably is someone who doesn't like when he can't see what's going to occur or happen before it actually does.
He's a runner. Imma say that because I can be one. He cares for Vox but he can't stop the way his heart seems to race when they get just a bit too close...
Valentino probably comes in and ruins everything, most likely at a time when Alastor starts to get some sort of understanding on his own feelings and seeing Vox practically become infatuated with Valentino really leaves a void in his own heart.
Of course he wants to support Vox in his endeavors but... Valentino? Out of all people?
Alastor is most likely disgusted by even the thought of Valentino and seeing Vox so happy and eager with him sets. Him. Off.
A lot of arguments now, harsh words and such and really it's from Vox as he's confused and lost as to Alastor's behavior. He probably picked up on it and asked multiple times just for Alastor to brush him off every time so now that smoke is in the air everything is coming out.
Vox probably would confess he's in love with Alastor in this argument, tears, crying and all and Alastor can't help the way he feels about it
He feels he's at fault, and his airy silence doesn't help with all the anguish in the air already
He's scared. He loves Vox as well but something about the situation makes it hard for Alastor to swallow all the information and this leads to the 7 year disappearance
This mother fucker definitely leaves without saying a single thing to Vox and that hurts Vox more than anything else.
What else can Vox do without a single letter or sign as to where his friend went and of course he's going to know he's the reason to a certain extent
It definitely hurts both of them, like... World shattering.
Vox has no choice but to go to Valentino.
I can't help but analyze how Vox seemed... Happy? That he thought Angeldust quit when Valentino was raging. Vox does not love this man...
He of course knows about the things Valentino does... Or maybe... He doesn't? Like maybe he has an idea but he hates to think about it... He's never around when it actually happens to someone?
Valentino probably...has even done things to Vox himself?
Maaaannn like I said these aren't canon ofc but now I'm just rambling. Vox probably goes through similar ways of abuse from Val but he just puts up with it like everyone else? I can see him being so broken behind closed doors and when he's in front of others he puts on the cocky persona of his. It's something he's picked up from Alastor, smiling was a tactic all on its own.
He's unconscious of it but Vox thinks of Alastor all the time; when he wakes, when he works, etc etc and I think that in very little ways Alastor does the same thing.
Alastor definitely thinks of Vox often but he's so much better at hiding it. These two are so broken when they are alone.
I'm hoping they talk more about these two but OMG imagine so heartfelt ass communication after so maybe years... They definitely need it, to air out everything
And imagine that while they are Vox is speaking and Alastor is adamantly listening as he's always done and before he even knows it he's leaning forward, closer and Vox doesn't necessarily realize it until Alastor is just a breath away.
Tbh Alastor wouldn't even know what he was doing, it's like he's doing it unconsciously...no thoughts in mind and when Vox stops for a moment and just right then everything just seems to make sense? Alastor looks at him as if there's nothing but him and Vox would return the gaze before they closed in with a kiss
It's not just a little kiss either, it's one that starts off soft and gentle and leads into something hotter... Something raunchy as they cling to each other and hold each other.
Someone drew a pick with Vox being pinned against the wall by Alastor while kissing and I'll tag them (HERE) when I find them again but yeah it's like that.
It's like Alastor is letting off steam that's been trapped inside him for all those years even prior to his disappearance and he wants to be careful and gentle but he's... Excited, happy to have Vox in his arms again so he gets rough, biting, nipping, sucking until Vox seems to just completely become goop against him because in reality this is all he's wanted from Alastor... To be close to him, to hug him, to kiss him...
To help him, to protect him, to watch him grow and grow together with him.
Alastor still struggles with admitting it but he's just as happy to be with Vox too. (It's giving soulmates?? Soulmate AU ANYONE??! I'LL WRITE IT? PAY ME AND ILL START IT TODAY???!!! Support a disabled writer and I'll write whatever you want!~ current commission status: 3/5 stories to be done which I'll be working on right after this post)
Ahem...
But anyway they are married your honor!
I can see Vox coming to the Hotel after he manages to break free of Valentino. Maybe running off and disappearing on him and pulling an Alastor while Valentino rages at everyone else to find him. Velvet is broken between helping and not.
Vox coming to the hotel would be a shit fest to start off but... He is actually really helpful, and he takes the time to rebuild a connection with Angeldust and Alastor and he seems just so much more... Happy and genuine? And sometimes when Alastor notices he can't help but show a genuine smile as he admires Vox.
They would eventually come together to help publicize the hotel and WOAH are they banging!
The radio demon and TV demon have come together to help some crappy hotel rehabilitate sinners? Holy shit!
They reel people in from all over for various reasons whether it be fangirls shipping them or people actually wanting help and to grow...
They are happy together but...
Valentino and whoever is on his side of things definitely managed to also pick up on the sudden booming aura coming off of that hotel and maybe...maybe they'll pay a visit.
One that reminds Vox of everything that Valentino did to him and OMG imagine Vox having a panic attack or something, running off because he knows it's Val? Leaving Alastor to go hunt for him?
A fight would be interesting.
Alright alright, imma shut up.
I wrote this write the angst in mind but of course I rambled hahah. Either way, I said what I said. ÙwÚ
If you made it this far follow? Reblog? Comment???
MWAH 💋
- A
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juggalomary · 18 hours
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did yall miss me. i hope you did bc im returning with a bang. anyways here’s this. warnings: mcd, child abuse. up on ao3 within a few days
A new day, a new disaster, that’s what soap would say. He was always an optimist. Never heard saying anything about how they were likely going to die on suicide missions. Even though it was so valiantly obvious. He has to be watching from his overwatch position right now.
Ghost was glad to have him on his 6. They’d been switching places more often, soap on overwatch and sniping the people trying to end his life. He never called out to him about these people. Sometimes they’d just end up dead.
He always knows it was soap though, who else could do that so accurately. Soap was the best of the best. He’s not going to let ghost die. He’s not that selfish, never was.
Soap was the best of the best, most morally sound. He held his religion above many temptations. Infil was filled with chatter most of the time, except for soap, running his thumb over rosaries and whispering to a power long forgotten by the other men.
Exfil, a shell shocked soap would sit silently, or wail for not his mother, or ghost, but for someone, god maybe, to end his suffering. He was already going to hell, that’s what a priest told him at 15. He confessed and was told his punishment.
Never repeating that confession to anyone else, in fear of rejection. At 16 he carried his older cousin's casket in between the pews of that same church. He got home and told to man up. He turned 17 and enlisted.
That led to right now, soap covering his 6 and ghost shouting for help. A bullet lodged into his spine, blood gushing from the wound. His screams would’ve revealed his position if he cared anymore. There was no way he would get out of this. He just needed to get to a position he could radio to exfil from.
The enemy must’ve heard his screaming for Johnny, there was no response from soaps end. He must’ve been comprised.
The thundering footsteps we’re getting louder needed to move.
He pulled his hands above his head, chin resting on the ground. Looking up from under his eyebrows he saw about 20 meters until cover.
Pushing his arm to unbend he grabbed for purchase on the grass. He needed to pull himself forward to get to cover. His legs proving useless he grabbed a handful of grass and pulls. It rips.
He keeps trying to pull himself forward, but with every futile grasp comes a handfull of dirt and roots. The footsteps grow louder. He can’t die like this.
He screams in pain and frustration. Johnny is comprised, he’s comprised. It’s a solo mission, he needs to call exfil there’s no price here to scoop his useless self off the floor. He could cry. He won’t cry.
He grabbed a rock and pulled himself forward a foot. That’s okay, he’ll to cover soon. He’ll stay awake, he’ll stay strong. He will not cry.
Another idea comes to mind. He pulls 2 knives from his kit and stabs one into the dirt to use as a sort of handle.
One foot at a time he drags himself to the tree line. Sitting up to access his radio he leans on a tree.
He calls laswell. He needs exfil. He needs to leave. He’s losing blood, but he can’t feel it, he’ll pull through.
His eggs were twisted in horrible ways, he didn’t feel that pain, but he also couldn’t move them. He’ll be okay, he can just rest his eyes for a few minutes. His eyes were far to tired.
Nothing from soap. Nothing from laswell, there’s no point in staying awake, he’ll wake up to the radio transmission.
His eyes fall open again.
“-nom, SIMON! COME IN!” A young woman was on the other side of his radio.
“Mom? Mom I’m scared, I don’t want you to leave me here with him again.” It seemed he was crying.
“Simon who’s there, I’m coming, we need to know where you are.”
“Mommy I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m in the woods mom. Please don’t let him find me. He had a bat mom.” Drearily weeping through the radio was not something that elete SAS lieutenants do. But his mom was back, he missed her so much.
She tried her damn best, especially since he was stuck with his bummy ass father. She tended to his wounds whenever she was sober. She took beatings for him when he was too young to know he’s a man and he should be taking it. She wiped his tears whenever he came crying. Somehow it wasn’t enough.
He still had his tooth knocked out, he still was given drugs before he realized what they were. He still had to see that sex worker die. He still has to kiss that snake.
Haven forgotten about that snake until right now the hissing in his ear was not of any relief. It should’ve, it would mean his radio was working. His hands were too heavy to really hit the button to turn it on though.
Tears were not allowed though. The snake was in his ear, not biting his lip, his mom was talking to him. And Johnny would be back soon.
“Ghost, Simon, do you copy.”
“Mom I’m not alone anymore”
Crunching could he heard, a dark figure approaching him. He had a pistol. He shot the gun, but the bullet shot right next to his ear. He let himself relax, foolishly.
The man in front of him was his father, but his face was skewed. One part of it was his father, and the other half was of price. The side with price reached out and told him to calm down and stay awake. Then price was gone and it was just his father.
He was screaming, not Simon, Simon would recognize who was screaming and it wasn’t himself. A blow landed on his head, he saw it but didn’t feel it. His father was standing there, his mouth was moving but he wasn’t saying anything. Then he hissed like a snake. Mouth open he saw the snake that bit him all those years ago, he started screaming for real this time.
The snaked closed is mouth and then said something in Spainish. This man was none other than a cackling manual roba. Scalpel in one hand he laughed. The scar on his ribs flared up as he was called every insult under the sun. He was told to not fear as, it would feel so nice soon.
Turning his head out of the grasp roba has on his face he was met with Vernon’s rotting skeletal face. There was dirt in his eyes, ears, mouth, nose. He was buried.
“GHOST!”
“Mom? Save me.”
“Ghost who’s with you right now.”
He opens his eyes, praying he can see at the end of this all. Scratched corneas would end his career, and his career is all that he had left.
In front of him, soap was sitting, thumbing his rosaries and mumbling a prayer. Without greeting he looks up. “Simon, I’ve missed you.”
“Ghost. I repeat, who is with you?”
“Johnny. Bye mommy, I’ll see you soon.”
With his final goodbye to the only person to truly love him, he can rest.
“Simon, I loved you too.” A Scottish lilt was the last thing he heard before the world went silent. He laid his head on the tree and closed his eyes. He hoped that Johnny was in the next 7 minutes. And price and Gaz. Maybe he can finally see them again too. Laswell will join them at some point. Then they can meet her wife. Maybe she’ll have kids after retirement.
He hoped he was happy.
-
Ghost was found 2 days later. Soaps rosary in his pocket and tear tracks running down his face wiping off the eye black.
Task force 141 was together, earthly and in spirit. Buried in the national cemetery one next to the other.
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dunmeshi-darlings · 2 days
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Hello! It's good to hear that your request are open again!
If my idea isn't of your interest please just skip thi n.n
What about some comfort headcanons or imagines of Kabru and/or Laios X Reader who is scared of loud noises such as thunder or fireworks?
Thanks for your time!
Oh dear anon i would never skip an ask! i love everyone elses ideas, and just because something may not be a situation im particularly into doesnt mean i wont do it! i want other people to enjoy these posts. Truth be told dear anon im the same way, i hate fireworks and sudden loud popping noises. In fact, Ballons possibly popping makes me so nervous i get sick from the anxiety of it alone when simply near them. But enough of that, lets show some love. Going to go with kabru since our favorite little manipulator doesnt get enough love.
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When you first Joined Kabru's party he had already had already gathered some basic information about you. He had heard nothing but average things from others about you and through his own digging he figured you would be a perfect addition to his group.
However He took notice when The group was travelling a Large brick had come undone and smashed into the ground. The resounding sudden loud noise caused you to jump slightly. He didnt react to it but took a mental note, He had seen you face monsters just fine but this sudden loud noise cause you to jump. He would need to look into it more.
Sure enough the more he watched you the more he noticed this pattern, if it was storming out and lightning struck, you always flinched at the thunder. He would watch you tense up and try to not jump whenever fireworks were going off. They were small details most people would miss, but between who kabru is as a person as well as the interest he seemed to have taken in you meant that he noticed every little minute detail.
One day as a particularly mean storm begins to roll in you start prepping yourself, you knew this was going to be miserable but you didnt want to let anyone know about this. You know if mickbell found out he would probably tease you endlessly about it. However you are surprised when kabru hands you a pair of ear muffs.
"Here, I figured out you were afraid of loud noises so at our last stop i decided to get you some of these to help out. " Kabru says smiling handing them to you, you look at him shocked at this. you can feel your face grow warm, having hoped that nobody would have noticed. But of course kabru did, it was kabru, this man notices everything.
You put them on and breath a sigh of relief as while you feel the thunders rumble, you dont hear it and you can feel the tension release from your body. as the storm passes by you eventually take the ear muffs off and tell him thank you, but ask why he did it?
"your part of my team, and i look out for my team. And besides...i find you fascinating and i hate seeing you upset. Im sure you have a reason to hate loud noises, i wont pry until your ready."
Kabru says softly, gently punching your shoulder causing you to chuckle softly and smile. Gosh, kabru was an interesting guy to say the least. You werent sure how you felt about being "Studied" like this...but the more you thought of him doing it the less you minded.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 3 months
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...
#tfw youre hanging out with friends and u throw out controversial take after controversial take#like its me hi im the hater its me#u wanna hear them? i mean thrm in in like the silliest way possible. its not that serious lol#i hated h4n solo growing up and still do. i dont think i like the writing of ne1l gaim4n and only liked the 1st season of g0od 0mens#i thought the 1st season of 0ur flag was fine and didnt really like the 2nd. i dont think anyone in l0rd of the rings is hot. especially#not 4aragon. leg0las is like whatever. sam is my favorite character. i also didnt like l0rd of the rings when i 1st watched it#the gathering was a watch party for that 1st movie and i like it way more now lol. also i dont like overt romance. i like the implication#of romance. if u kiss onscreen im like 99% of thr time not interested. also while im being a hater. i dont thibk steven king is a good#writer and domt like his books. i like the idea of them. wish they were written by anyone else lol. also im too dyslex1c to read physical#books :-( which no one vibes with bc everyone's a grad student overachiever lol. and back to back it all sounds like im trying to b#contrary but i promise its maybe just that i have weird standards. like i also hated movies about animals growing up. it made me mad that#those movies were trying to manipulate my feelings. like jesus child chill tf out. i would also randomly decide i hated lots of things and#characters. some of which i stand by today but most of which im like lol chill#so idk maybe i just have bad opinions. i also wander the earth wearing outfits that i pick out bc it feels like im playing dressup#and i have unhinged options abt narut0. sas and naru fall into the 1% of kisses i care abt lmao#and unhinged options abt bleach the show. idk maybe im just kinda weird. i also study organisms that most ppl look at as globs of goo#and i used to study bits of dirt. my brain was just build ever so slightly weird. not too weird. just enough that i have quote unquote#controversial takes ans im not afraid to say them in a room full of ppl who disagree with me bc its really not that serious lol#i dunno i just think its kinda funny i guess#im just slightly weird in the least interesting way possible#unrelated#also i don't yuvk other ppls yum im just like ay not for me i guess
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beeseverywhen · 9 months
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god the duality between 'I don't want someone in my house' and 'yeah I'd like my own kids and no way I'm doing that alone'
#like ppl who don't want kids should be free to live their lives without ppl being like 'watch out! your biological clock is ticking!'#that's bullshit ppl shouldn't say that. but also. i would like kids and#after so many years trying not to get pregnant and that seeming like a worst case scenario. so desperately wanting to not become my parents#now i am an age where I'd happily have a kid if i were in the right life situation & i don't feel I've got all the time in the world anymore#lol like. the space in between 'too young to have a baby' and 'old enough that i risk more health issues/ will be an older parent'#feels way way narrower than i ever would have assumed lol. esp. because all the parents in my family are so young. the idea of being an#older parent is so strange to me. I'm so aware of the things you can't do when you're older and how it's harder work to run after them#and like my body is already wearing out way faster than anyone elses. my health's only gonna get worse so.#being an older parent just doesn't seem an option. not to mention like. the older i am the less generations I'll get to see.#i want to be a great grandmother damnit. lol.#like I'm on a clock. to get over my commitment issues or it legit won't happen. but yeah. can't think of anything worse than having#to have someone in my house. if i was rich enough to have lots of space that's one thing but. I'm not lol.#and rich ppl rub me up the wrong way whenever they try and chat me up so doubt I'm gonna marry in to money looool#like i have come to terms with the fact that. if it doesn't happen it doesn't happen. id rather not get to be a mother than to settle#like that whole 'looking for a partner' dating life is not for me i can't think of anything worse. if it happens it happens#I'll either meet the right person who im willing to give up an empty house for or i won't looool#and it's not like im giving up the whole raising kids thing completely.#like I've got to play a significant hand in raising my siblings even if i didn't ask for that. I've got to see them grow and#help them reach those milestones. and whatever the circumstances I'm blessed to have had them in my life#even if i don't have my own kids I'm always gonna have kids in my life even if I'm an aunt rather than grandmother you know#I'm lucky to be in a family where raising kids is a communal thing. but yeah id love to have my own kids & have someone that looks like me#but I'm not willing to bring someone in to the world in non opportune circumstances deliberately.#like if it's up to me i want them to have 2 parents to look out for them and 2 parents that at least stand a chance of liking each other lol
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sukunasweetheart · 3 months
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oh, to fit him like a glove...
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WARNINGS; ooc sukuna, virgin!reader (well... not for long), size kink, BREEDING, vaginal fingering, sukuna only has one dick here cuz i wanted to make it less complicated, COCKWARMING, stomach bulge, degradation, praise, sukuna is a four armed king, overstimulation, mouth-hands, EXCESSIVE CUM
based on this anon's ask! dividers credit; @/cafekitsune
word count; 3k
imagine being sukuna's precious princess of a wife-- whom he spoils and dotes on because its in his interests to do so. like any other woman, youre tiny compared to him, so having you take his cock eventually will be very tedious work, and sukuna will need a lot of patience.
and we all know, sukuna is the most patient man in the world... at least when it means that it'll be worth it for him at the end. and to him, you are worth everything.
he's proud and pleased to be your first... sukuna can't help but feel keen about the idea that he will be the only one ever to have had the pleasure of being so intimate with you.
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he watches you intently, as you struggle to take even two of his thick fingers in your tight hole, tearing up and whimpering as he tampers with those delicate spots inside you.
"nngh.. sukuna... that feels so good..." you whimper his name delightfully, it almost makes his enduring patience snap.
outwardly, his face looks calm as he looks down at you with soft lust that takes the form of an almost blank expression.
"does it?" he asks, with a certain playfulness in his voice.
his fingers move a little faster, scissoring you inside and pressing in an upwards manner, where it makes you gasp the most. you're producing so much slick, but your hole is still so tight and unrelenting, clenching around his thick digits even more. sukuna thinks about good it'd feel if his dick was inside instead, and he feels himself aching with desire, twitching and leaking precum from his hidden erection.
...not yet.
he dutifully touches you to your orgasm, and watches with a hitched breath as you tremble on his fingers, walls fluttering against them. your sighs and soft moans reach his ears like nothing else.
his extra hands grope at your breasts, finding solace in them.
"do you think i'm ready yet?" you ask tenderly, after your breath returns to normal.
"... hardly, my love. that was only two of my fingers," sukuna tells you languidly, as he feeds your slick on his digits to the mouth on his stomach.
"only two? oh dear..." you sigh with sorrow, "will i ever be able to take you whole one day?"
he smirks at the question, and leans down into your chest while holding ahold of your hand.
"well of course. i'll make it happen no matter what. i promise."
the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.
when it does happen, you best be ready for him to breed you full every night.
however, on some days, the urge gets unbearable, even for himself. he's been saving himself up a little, so he could pour everything inside you when the time comes, but the lust gets overwhelming, clouding his sight and judgement.
one night, you gesture towards the bulge in his pants, with a shaking hand.
"what about you? isn't it painful to always withhold yourself like that?" you ask, wanting for him to feel good as well, instead of just yourself.
sukuna grows silent, sweating bullets as his dick throbs upon your mention of it.
the next minute, he's taking it out and slotting it between your thighs, rubbing up against your slit and seeing how the size compares to your stomach.
the temptation is too great.
not. yet.
this was the whole reason he was avoiding using his cock with your body in the first place - because he was afraid he'd cave in and attempt to deflower you when you weren't ready yet, still too tight for him to squeeze in, causing you pain only.
if it were anyone else, he wouldn't bother... but you're one that he cherishes too much... he wants to work to make the end result even tastier. the moment where he'll finally claim you entirely.
the bed creaks as he thrusts in and out between your thighs, rubbing his twitching dick against your hole oozing with slick, also brushing up onto your clit that's swollen from arousal.
" 'm sorry... i wish... there was more i could do..." you whimper sweetly, squeezing one of his large hands.
"there's no need for that. whatever i can't put inside you now... i'll pump in twice as much, once you're ready for me," sukuna whispers gently, holding your hand back, a groan resounding in the back of his throat.
rewards become so much sweeter after restraint. like how you wouldn't pick and eat an unripe fruit from a tree.
"you're doing plenty enough for me... for now," he tells you breathlessly. he adores the glossy look in your eyes.
his cock continues to glide back and forth, and he feels so hot between your thighs.
"i... i want your tip inside when you cum, please," you say, eyeing his dick with a certain neediness.
"are you sure, love?" he asks, hoping you'll say yes. you nod fervently.
sukuna feels lightheaded at the thought of it, all the while his dick gets more and more sensitive against your thighs... his balls feel so heavy and full, all those times he held himself back coming to catch up on him.
you squeeze your legs around him harder, making him groan, cock pulsing for all it's worth. he thinks about how tightly your walls would clamp around him. the heat from your insides, and your slick covering his shaft. he's close.
he suddenly spreads your legs.
at this stage, he's only barely able to get his tip past your entrance. it's possible when he does it slowly enough. you whine beneath him, doing your best to not go against his arms that are pinning your legs down.
a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face. sukuna uses an extra hand to stroke the rest of his dick as his tip remains snug inside your puckering hole. when it comes, he gives a choked-off gasp from how good his first-in-a-while release feels.
he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from burying himself any further.
the ropes of cum seep and trickle into your womb in thick, heavy spurts, and the hotness of it gets you breathing unevenly, being so aroused by this sensation. there's a copious amount. he continues jerking himself off to get every last droplet out, and his own hand can feel the intense twitches of the veins on his erection.
it's not nearly enough to satisfy him, but it's enough to keep him patient.
once his tip pops out from your wet hole again, his spend come out of it in large globs, and sukuna can't help but admire the sight, his dick twitching weakly in his hand.
he abstains from cumming all over again for another few weeks- another few weeks of stretching you out with his fingers, and prepping you to perfection.
when the day finally creeps up, where he believes you're ready to take him whole, sukuna hears and feels his heartbeat in his own ears.
ever so slowly. he's sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he has you lower yourself on his throbbing cock as he's face to face with you, ever so slowly. your body trembles lightly and he feels it on his hands and fingers as they're placed against your hips. sukuna senses your anxiousness that flows from you in large waves.
your hole is so tight, trying to push the intrusion out, but the wetness from your slick helps his cock slip inside easier, and sukuna's breath is kept within the back of his throat as you swallow him up deeper and deeper.
he's sweating. you're sweating. but soon enough, you're sat on his lap completely, having gotten all of him inside you at last. you can barely breathe with how tightly you enclose around him. how his cock is nudged up snugly against your cervix, pushing the literal air out of your lungs. and the way you feel it twitching inside.
sukuna has never been more patient, more self disciplined, more repressed than in this moment. one wrong movement and he feels like he could snap and start thrusting in without concern for you in any moment. no. he shouldn't do that. it would ruin all everything he's done to build you up for this moment.. but your walls keep tauntingly squeezing around him...
"i- i can finally fit all of you inside..." you say with glee, tears on your lashes, but looking very proud of yourself. it snaps him back to sanity, a little bit.
"of course... you were made for me, after all. so perfectly mine, fitting me like a glove," sukuna mumbles, as his bigger tongue licks against your clit, arousing you more so that you could loosen up for him. his praise gets to your head and makes you feel sheepish, wanting to do more to please him. but you don't think you can do that, just yet.
"can we stay like this for a bit, please?"
"that would be...for the best. can't have my wife splitting in half, can i?" sukuna jests rather sinisterly.
"oh, you..." you pout at him. the larger tongue rubs against you more persistently to distract you, and he smirks as it does the trick. you whimper, and your walls pulse gently around him making him groan. your eyes get half lidded, already feeling somewhat exhausted, and you lean your face against the large man's chest.
veins are bulging out of his arms, and one on his forehead. you seem so relaxed, unbeknownst to the fact that he's currently doing everything to keep himself together. you're like a tiny mouse trapped in the claws of a tiger.
sukuna starts to bite and kiss down your neck and shoulder to satiate himself.
few minutes after you've calmed yourself a little, your eyes start wandering down, taking notice of the bump on your stomach, from having him inside you.
"it goes without saying, but you're so big..." you press against it without thinking, and you feel him throb inside you intensely. sukuna grabs your wrist with a growl.
"are you trying to test my patience right now?"
you look at him with wide eyes, from how unusually on edge he is... something about him being all restless makes you feel aroused. you're doing that to him. a man who rarely ever feels. but you've gotten him all sensitive.
" 'm sorry. kiss me?" you ask sweetly, lips curling up in a foxy way.
his gaze softens.
"when you ask me so sweetly... i can't deny you, can i?"
and he leans down to press his lips onto yours, despite seeing the mischief in your eyes. your arms go around his neck, and as he's kissing you, his hands go for your breasts.
you tighten up on his leaking dick, making him moan into your mouth. his grip on your hips squeeze harder, but he doesn't stop kissing you.
you want to make him cum. you want him to lose control from being inside you.
sukuna breaks the kiss with a little choked off heave, when you begin to roll your hips around him slightly.
"you're getting awfully ahead of yourself-"
you cut him off by latching your mouth to the side of his neck, suckling and running your tongue against his skin while your hips keep moving.
he'd call you cute, but it's working. sukuna grits his teeth and his eyes get heavy lidded, dick getting impossibly harder. his heavy breathing adds to your excitement.
"i never knew my wife was such a whore. i'll be sure to return this favour later," sukuna tells you with a low voice, his hands now guiding your hips against him.
you're wordless, as you continue running your lips and tongue up his skin, moving onto his jawline, only giving a whine in response, feeling his tip press into the entrance of your womb.
such lousy movement usually wouldn't be near enough for him, but...
his head lulls back, exposing the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows thickly, getting close... your little kitten thrusts and the way you're tonguing the sensitive area under his jaw...
sukuna's hips jolt into you for the last time.
" 'm cumming-"
his mouth hangs open as he releases - dumping weeks' worth of seed into your cunt. his body jerks against you and you bite into his shoulder.
his cock throbs erotically in your clamping walls, and you milk him effortlessly, and you moan on his neck, while still suckling and tonguing the same area, feeling the hotness of his cum as it thickly pours into you, making your belly swell a bit from it.
sukuna groans as he seeds your womb properly for the first time, two hands on your hips, one against the back of your neck, and the remaining arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still as his dick pulses inside you.
your head is whirring from the tense situation, being creampied so lewdly for the first time, to think that he's released inside, and the feeling of his every breath as he orgasms, is enough to make you feel so exhilarated.
suddenly, he stills.
it makes you a little nervous, so you detach your upper body from him and aim to look at his expression. but before you can make any further movement, you're suddenly thrown onto your back against the soft mattress of the bed in the speed of light. he keeps himself buried in you, making sure to plug you up nicely.
when you meet his eyes after a shocked gasp, you see his darkened expression, his eyebrows furrowed, but his mouth curved up in a toothy, sinister grin.
"you really tested me back there, didn't you?" he rasps, grabbing your face and forcing you to keep your gaze on him.
"i hope you're aware that i'm not letting you get a wink of sleep tonight."
not a word gets out of your mouth, before sukuna pulls his dick back, and slams his hips into you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls.
your voicebox makes a noise that you never thought was possible, a noise that's mixed with both a moan and a scream.
"oh, fuck..." sukuna mumbles gutturally, beginning to thrust in and out of you the way he's always wanted to. your hands fist the sheets behind your head, and his hands keep your legs spread apart for him, while the other two pinch at your breasts roughly, groping at your flesh so brazenly.
his heavy balls slap against your ass as his hips rut into you, making sure to drive himself in to the hilt, before pulling out to the tip and doing that all over again.
you squeal and mewl under him, eyes watering from pleasure and already getting overstimulated as he fucks you senseless. to think that only a few weeks ago, you were only able to fit two of his fingers. it all feels like a fever dream.
sukuna breathes heavily, his muscles glistening from his own sweat as he indulges in his reward, his reward of you, and your cunt that is finally nice and loose for him, sheathing him so nicely, coating his dick with your slick like the harlot you are. his laboured breaths stutter when your walls pulse around him as you reach your orgasm-- your head tilting back into the mattress.
cock leaking more precum into you, sukuna's eyes become half lidded again as he gets close to his second release.
"you're gonna drive me crazy," he grunts, as his tip reaches your cervix again and again and again.
his thrusts become erratic, and then halts as he busts another thick load into you, making you cry out pitifully.
"fuuck, fuck, fuck...." sukuna shudders, leaning down on his forearms, getting so close that you feel his breath ghosting against your skin, while his other two hands grip onto the sides of your hips. his pecs rub up into your tits and the tongue from his stomach messily laps away at your clit as he empties his balls into you, your pussy seemingly trying to squeeze him dry.
all of his eyes close up as he then kisses you like he's trying to swallow up your tongue. you whimper against his lips, doing your best to reciprocate, struggling to keep up with the pace of this kiss.
he breaks away from your lips.
"c'mon, not good enough. put your tongue into it more," he instructs breathlessly, with somewhat of a disappointed expression. your mind is too hazy from the intense lust but you give a short nod with teary eyes, which makes him smirk before pushing his lips onto you again.
you kiss him back the most you can, and he hums in pleasure, your tongue finally intertwining with his. it distracts you from how full you feel right now, even with only two of his loads in you.
his thrusts slowly start back up again.
"s-sukuna-!" you gasp, breaking the kiss.
"i warned you... it's gonna be a long night," sukuna tells you. he seems to have become more sound of mind after that second orgasm.
"give me more..." he mutters, leaning against the crook of your neck, and licking a stripe up against it, "my precious wife."
your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tight. he grins, and you feel it on your skin.
... eventually when his third load fills you up, he's running his tongue against the shell of your ear, two mouths sucking at each of your nipples, from the way he clasped his palms over your breasts at the last second.
you're trembling beneath him, tears now running down the side of your face, babbling nonsensical words at him.
sukuna leans back to run his third hand through his disheveled hair to slick it up again, and he grins at your state of overstimulation. he feels so good inside you. it was worth waiting and preparing you for so long.
once your orgasm subsides a bit, he finally detaches his mouth-hands away from your tits, making a line of saliva stretch between in the process. then, the mouths disappear. your body relaxes. but sukuna's cock is still inside you.
"you alright, my love?" he asks smugly, looking down at your state of fatigue caused by intense pleasure.
you mumble out something of a 'yes', and he chuckles. his eyes trail down to your now slightly pudgy stomach.
"you're so full with me, my dear wife. haha, it's quite the lovely sight," sukuna tells you softly, pressing his hand down softly against the swell of your tummy. you jolt a little, whining.
"sukuna... too full..."
he leans down closer to your face and wipes the sweat off your forehead, before bringing his lips to the same area gently.
"we can stay like this for a few minutes. rest up. but we're not done yet."
he hasn't even had the chance to sink his teeth into you yet. just a little more. you can do that for him, can't you?
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ghostfacd · 6 months
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𝙄𝙉 𝘼 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙇𝘿 𝙁𝙐𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙀𝙉, 𝙃𝙀’𝙎 𝘼 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉
pairing: lorenzo berkshire x fem!slytherin!reader
genre: fluff, sweetheart enzo, brief suggestive content, enzo is a big softie basically
summary: in a world filled with men, there’s lorenzo berkshire, a sweetheart and gentleman
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Lorenzo Berkshire was a sweetheart.
Everybody knew that the down to earth Slytherin couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to, and weirdly did not fit the stereotypical mean Slytherin persona despite hanging with Draco and his friends.
In fact, a lot of things that Lorenzo did were out of the ordinary for his crowd of people. Whenever Draco would pull a first year by their backpacks so their bodies would fling back, Lorenzo always muttered an apology after, offering the first year a cookie the next day. It was just who he was; he was a sweet boy, and that often meant he was also very clueless.
Sure, he was smart in his classes, but in everything else? Lorenzo was practically the virgin of all virgins.
“Her eyes are up here Enzo,” Pansy teased, watching as Lorenzo’s eyes finally shifted off your chest to look at Pansy in the eyes.
“Huh?”
“Well I know they’re nice,” you tease further, “but it’s rude to stare, y’know.”
“Oh,” Lorenzo’s eyebrows furrow, clearly confused. He’s either great at playing the dumb role or he genuinely has no idea what you and Pansy are inciting.
“What do you mean?” Lorenzo then moves his hand over to touch the gold colored necklace on your neck. “I was just looking at the new necklace you got. It’s nice.”
Oh. You didn’t think anyone would notice your new necklace. You bought it over the holidays when you went back home with your family, and had just started wearing it now.
“Thanks Enzo,” you say, placing a kiss on his cheek. He pulls back flustered, but he mutters a you’re welcome under his breath.
“LO BOY!” Lorenzo is quickly pulled into a headlock by no other than Draco Malfoy, who seems to find his friend struggling hilariously funny. “Oh what’s wrong Lo? Got your head in a knot?”
“Boys.” You and Pansy mutter, rolling your eyes as you both get up from your seats, heading to the much more quiet Great Hall.
- - -
The next time you see Lorenzo is in your Potions class. He’s on the left of you, and you’re almost falling asleep at the boring lecture of your professor. He always seem to talk more than actually teach how to mix potions.
“Pssst,” Lorenzo mutters to your partner as he hands her a slip of paper. “Be a peach and pass it to Y/N?”
Your partner, who has developed a little crush on Lorenzo only blushes, accepting the piece of paper and tapping you on the shoulder.
“Here,” she says, “it’s from Lorenzo.”
Your eyebrows quirk up, slowly unfolding the crinkled paper.
Your hair is pretty today
You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. Lorenzo just knew how to swoon a girl over, didn’t he? He doesn’t even have to try and your knees would still feel weak.
So my hair isn’t pretty on other days?
You scribble down, passing it back to your partner who passes it to Lorenzo.
His eyes grow wide when he reads it, opting to shake his head quickly.
“Not what I meant,” Lorenzo mouths.
“I know,” you mouth back, giving him a smirk. “Thank you Enzo.”
And you both end up more pink than the potions that were made in class that day.
- - -
“What do you even do in your free time?” Theodore asks, poking Lorenzo’s cheek repeatedly to annoy him. “Like read?”
“Like read?” Lorenzo mimics back. “Yes, I read. You should too Teddy, it’d be good for you.”
Theodore rolls his eyes, “I don’t need to read. And don’t call me Teddy.”
When you arrive in the dining hall, Theodore and Lorenzo already make a space for you to sit in between them. Usually, Pansy and Draco would be sitting across from the three of you, but today, they were off doing Godric knows what.
“Pans and Draco not here today?” Lorenzo asks, still focusing on the assignment he was finishing up before dinner ends.
“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “No idea what they’re doing.”
“Oh,” Theodore chuckles, “I have a few ideas.”
That makes the two of you burst out laughing, and Lorenzo finally looks up from his paper.
“What?” He asks. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh Enzo,” Theodore places a hand on his friend’s back, “never change.”
Lorenzo rolls his eyes, shrugging Theodore’s hand off. “Whatever that means.”
When Theodore finally heads off to the Slytherin common room, you and Lorenzo are left alone, the small conversations of the other students surrounds the two of you.
“Working hard on that assignment,” you say quietly to Lorenzo, bringing up your hand to pull a few strings of hair that were poking his eyes.
“Well someone’s gotta be the smart one in our friend group,” he says teasingly.
“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not smart?” Your hands start to wander, coming to each of Lorenzo’s sides to tickle him. He was especially ticklish around his abdomen.
“H-hey! Stop that!” He laughs, pushing your hands away. “Okay okay, we’re both the smart ones.”
“And Pansy,” you add.
“And Pansy.”
- - -
When you walked out to the lake that sat across from the Slytherin common room, you didn’t expect to find Lorenzo feeding the ducks. He was crouching, softly throwing a few pieces of crushed up bread at the ducks that now surrounded him.
“What are you doing Lo?” You ask, walking beside him.
“Not too loud,” Lorenzo says, “you’ll scare them away.”
He continues doing what he does before he runs all out, deciding to finally turn to you and throw an arm around your shoulder. “Evening.”
“Evening Enzo,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was out of habit, and you did it regularly, but it didn’t stop Lorenzo from blushing every time it happened.
“I was feeding the ducks,” he explains, although it was pretty clear what he was doing. “I like them, they’re nice and pretty. Draco sometimes throws rocks at them, so it’s kind of my way of apologizing for him.”
You ruffle Lorenzo’s hair slightly, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Oh Enzo, you sweetheart.” But he doesn’t hear you, instead, choosing to admire the scenery of the lake.
- - -
“You know what’d be funny?” Mattheo says, already laughing before he could get out the rest of his sentence. “If we pied the girls. Pansy and Y/N.”
Lorenzo’s ears perk up at this, but he keeps quiet. Why was his friends always looking to get into trouble?
“They’d totally kill us,” Theodore comments.
“That’s why we have to do it.”
The boys had already gotten two pies and their plan figured out before Lorenzo could stop them. He watched as they hide it behind their backs, approaching you and Pansy who were both engrossed in your conservation.
“Wait,” Lorenzo mumbles, quickly following his group of friends. When he sees their hand from their back move as they speak to you and Pansy, he steps in front of the two of you, getting hit straight in the face with the two pies.
“Huh..” Lorenzo says, wiping away the whipped cream that was covering his eyes. “Key lime.”
“Enzo,” you say, knowing that this was probably one of Mattheo or Draco’s dumb ideas again. “You guys apologize to Lorenzo right now.”
The three boys sigh defeatedly, muttering a quiet sorry to their brunette friend who’s still wiping the whipped cream from his face.
“Why’d you do that Enzo?” You ask him as the two of you sat down on the grass. You’d finally got all the whipped cream off his face with a towel, and although Enzo won’t admit it, he was kind of grateful he did end up getting pied. After all, a pretty girl was cleaning him up after all, and not just any pretty girl, his close friend.
“Cause you’re too pretty to get pied.” He shrugs, which makes you smirk.
“Too pretty?”
“Well yeah,”
You laugh at Lorenzo’s honesty, and finally, you lean in to give him a kiss on the lips instead of the side of his cheek.
“Did you just-”
“Shh,” you say, grabbing ahold of his hand. “Just let me appreciate you right now. In a world full of just men, you’re a gentleman Enzo.”
And Lorenzo only smiles, knowing he’s finally got the girl of his dreams.
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sp0o0kylights · 2 months
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"Valentines Day is a capitalistic scam made to sell chocolate and flowers!" Eddie Munson bellowed, leaping to the top of a cafeteria table not even ten minutes into lunch. 
"Do you think he was born like this, or just dropped on his head as a baby?" Heather asked, rolling her eyes as the super senior began waving his arms around, getting way too into  his annual “anti-valentines day” rant. 
Steve, who'd tuned out the dramatics in favor of trying to figure out how he could ditch school, only heard her because she’d begun running her foot up his leg.
Directly in front of Patrick.
As if half the school didn’t know he planned on asking her out after school. 
Long over being a part of these kinds of games, Steve kicked out, forcing Heather’s leg off his. 
He did it harder than he intended and immediately winced, as  if he hadn’t meant to do it at all. Aimed a sad little look at her, softening his eyes in the way he knew ladies loved while murmuring a quiet "sorry.” 
A pudding cup was offered as an additional apology--which Heather, thankfully, accepted. 
Crisis averted, Steve used the movement of handing the cup over to get his legs well out of Heather's range. He had other things to think about today, and getting drawn into whatever drama Heather was trying to brew wasn’t on the list. 
Particularly given the basketball team as a unit had started snubbing him out. 
"Newsflash ladies! Your man isn't taking you to some shitty restaurant because he loves you, he's doing it because he hopes you'll give it to him in your car!" Munson continued, voice growing impossibly louder. 
A crude gesture followed, involving hip thrusts and hand jabs.
 Several of the cheerleaders shot him disgusted looks as he did it. 
"Definitely dropped on his head." Carol said, glaring at Munson as his little group of freaks and geeks cheered him. "More than once." 
Steve hummed an agreement, more on automatic than from actually listening. He knew how to look like he was paying attention, even if his head was deep in possible escape plans. 
If he dipped at the last minute to the bathroom on the way to fifth period, Tommy wouldn't have time to stop him and he could make a break for his car…
That just left making up a plausible enough excuse as to why thee Steve Harrington, whose single status was the current hot topic of the school, left school early on Valentines Day. 
("Candy, sex, the overwhelming affection of all the ladies." Tommy drawled out that morning, practically preening. "Valentine's Day is the best holiday man. Just look at all this!"  
He waved a hand at his locker, which was absolutely covered in paper hearts. 
"The rally squad put hearts on the lockers of everyone on the basketball team, Tommy." Carol argued, rolling her eyes. "Steve’s is practically buried in them.”
Tommy opened his mouth to respond, no doubt with something else teasing and rude, but Carol’s elbow caught him in the gut first. 
“If you keep acting like this you're not getting any sex." She warned. 
"Aww baby, don't be like that. You know you're the only one for me." Tommy teased, with a wink that prompted Carol to smack him on the shoulder.
Laughing, he added: "Besides we can't fight or we'll miss our favorite game. Which poor gal thinks this year is the year Steve will take her out on a date!"
Carol allowed Tommy to put an arm over her shoulder, the two of them turning knowing grins on their friend as a singular unit. 
Even if Steve hadn’t felt like their friend in a hot minute. 
Not in the way he used to. 
"I do love watching them stutter through their little confessions.” Carol admitted, like this wasn’t something they’d loved doing since middle school. “I wonder if anyone will ever top Cindy Komer." 
Steve almost wasn't fast enough to cover his wince--that particular incident had been painful for him and Cindy. 
Steve still had no idea what he'd said to make the then-freshman cry. 
He thought he'd been nice about turning her down, but judging by Carol constantly quoting what he'd said, Steve had a feeling he'd accidentally been an asshole again.
Not that anyone ever thought it was accidental. 
“Steve? Hel~lo? Are you listening?” Carol said, snapping to get his attention and God did Steve hate that.
Never realized just how much until Nancy but after she’d pointed out that Carol treated him and Tommy both like her dogs, well. 
It was hard not to notice--and be a bit resentful. 
“God you keep doing this, you’re turning into such a space case.” Carol continued, the edge back in her voice. The same one she’d been using for a while, like Steve was on her last nerve. “Please tell me you’re not still mooning over Nancy fucking Wheeler.” 
“No.” He snapped, only to know instantly that was the wrong move, and try to fix it before Carol blew up. “No--I’ve just already had to fend someone off today. Like first thing--I was barely out of my car.”
There, that should keep Carol and Tommy both off his back for being “angry” and it wasn’t even a lie. He really had been asked out earlier, though the girl had been gracious about his rejection.  
Of course, this kind of instant redirection came with a price--and in this case, it was being absolutely hounded for more information. 
“Oh shit who!? Was it that Buckley girl?” Carol perked up immediately, like a hunting dog scenting prey. “I swear she stares holes in your head, she’s so weird…” )  
"This isn't about romance! It's about showing who has the most cash, gets the most sex! It's a pathetic social ritual you're all falling for!” Munson yelled, jolting Steve back into the present.  “I bet none of you even enjoy it!” 
"Tell that to all the girls Steve’s dated!” One of the younger basketball guys hollered, prompting a wave of laughter from the rest of the cafeteria. “They seem to enjoy it plenty!”
Steve couldn’t see who had said it, and should have felt the normal wave of smug warmth that the team had his back.  
Except his team had already proven they didn’t. 
Were in fact, siding more and more with Hargrove, just as Tommy was. 
They were rapidly approaching a watershed moment. Steve could feel it, the same way he’d always been able to tell when a crowd was about to turn.
He was losing, but was still on top of Hawkins social spaces enough, had caught it early enough, that he could turn everyone’s favor--if he wanted. 
Emphasis on ‘if.’ 
Munson spun to face his table, hair whipping to smack him in the face. The guy had clearly been trying to grow it out, but right now he looked like one of those poodles Carol's mom loved so much. 
So said Carol, anyway. 
"You sure about that?" Munson challenged, a crazed grin breaking across his face. "Rumor has it King Steve lost his groove ever since Wheeler dumped him!" 
Steve grimaced, though he was secretly thankful Munson went with "dumped" instead of "cheated on" (or any of the other vile words Billy had flung around, spreading across the school in the sick, crawling way rumors moved. 
Hargrove had been positively brutal about the whole Jonathan and Nancy thing, and the only reason he wasn't here now to spin this whole situation against Steve was because the guy always vanished at lunch.)
Tommy's face morphed into an affronted snarl, hands slapping down on the table. He turned expectantly to Steve, waiting for "The King" to get up and "handle" Munson.
Like Steve even cared about this dumb high school shit anymore. 
It took him a moment to realize Steve wasn’t planning on doing anything. Was in fact, going to remain perfectly quiet, other than an eyeroll and half-assed middle finger in Munson’s direction. 
Tommy let out a disgusted scoff in his direction and then decided to handle things himself. 
(Like that had ever been a good idea.)
“Shut up, Freak. The only game you have is in the prison showers.” He snapped, half rising from the table. “Isn’t that why you keep your hair long? So all the boys will actually fuck you?!” 
Whistles and yells lit the air, though Steve didn’t miss how the girls at the table looked taken aback at the sheer vitriol in Tommy’s voice. 
Even Carol looked startled, eyes sliding to meet Steve’s as if to confirm she hadn’t just imagined it. 
The three of them had always been good at this kind of mindless high school banter, but this over the top, crude shit? 
It wasn’t Tommy’s style.
It was Hargrove’s.
(That was its own growing issue. 
The way Tommy was gravitating towards Billy. 
How Carol kept expecting Steve to act like he used to. 
That she blamed his “outbursts” on Nancy, snidely mentioning that Steve had better have learned his lesson about “changing his personality for pussy.” 
Even now Steve knew they were only defending him because Munson was the one saying it.) 
“I didn’t realize Harrington still had his attack dog!” 
Munson put a hand against his heart as though injured, staggering dramatically backwards. 
“I thought you were too busy putting your tongue up Hargrove’s ass to bark at people!” 
Tommy immediately fired back, letting loose an uninspired string of curse words and something about Eddie being queer again. Steve didn’t hear the specifics--didn’t care to hear it, even as things started to spiral out of control. 
All he wanted to do was go home. 
Ideally before Billy got back from lunch and decided to make a spectacle himself, because Steve could feel that coming just as he could everything else. 
He was running out of time to come up with an excuse to get out of here without making a production out of it, and Munson wasn’t someone he wanted to piss off today, given he’d half hoped to buy weed off the guy before he ditched.
…Which was looking more and more unlikely given Tommy had just screeched some insult that had put Munson’s sights back on Steve. 
“You sure? Cause Harrington looks like he’s just gonna sit there and take it, just like he takes everything Hargrove and Wheeler and anyone else throws at him.”
He leered, leaning forward as if to see into Steve’s very soul. 
“I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but our beloved King here hasn’t exactly been defending his crown. If anything, he’s abandoned it.” 
The world stopped. 
This was the first time someone actually called him out on the fact that he often let whatever crap Billy spewed go. That Nancy and him had a few awkward encounters publicly, with at least one of them starting a rumor that she’d told Steve to fuck off. 
(She hadn’t of course, but Carol had stopped running damage control, and Steve was feeling the effects of her ire.) 
Silence echoed, and Steve realized with a dawning sort of horror, that Munson was waiting for a response from him. 
Just as the entire cafeteria was. 
The catalyst was here, brought on early by one Edward Munson. 
With a startling amount of clarity, Steve realized he was done. 
With his so called friends, with  the girls who’d tried corning him all morning, with Hargrove and just--everything. 
He was over it. 
If Billy wanted the crown so bad he could fucking have it. 
(If Tommy wanted to pretend he was tougher than he was by mimicking the dick, then he could have that too.) 
“This is stupid.” Steve announced, dropping the masks he so carefully wore. The ones he kept having to fix, because the Upside Down and its related demons (human and non) kept taking chunks out of it. 
He stood, feeling the weight of the room press down on him as he faced them all down. 
“Yeah--!” Tommy started to pile on, seeming to think Steve was about to unleash hell, and got the surprise of a lifetime when Steve turned and jammed a finger in his face.
“Shut up.” He snapped. 
Knew instantly he only got away with it by the fact that he’d caught everyone off guard.  
King Steve did a lot of things, but he rarely blew up. 
“This is stupid.” He reiterated, voice booming across the lunch room, “ You wanna fight? Fine, but leave me out of it.”  
“The King doesn’t want to play? Why I never thought we’d see the day!” Munson clucked his tongue, and without missing a beat Steve turned to him. 
 “For someone who is always screaming about nonconformity, you sure are happy to attack anyone who doesn’t do what you want.”
Steve’s voice was loud, but he wasn’t screaming. Wasn’t yelling or throwing his arms around.
He didn’t need to. Had never needed to. 
“I heard you going off on that guy whose lunch you're standing on yesterday, because he wanted to watch the Colts play.” Steve continued, voice cold. “Half of your friends are terrified of you, because you’ll scream at them just like you accuse us of doing--and let’s be real here, Munson, you do it more.”
In a dramatic move that absolutely, 100% came from Dustin and his theatrics, Steve shrugged his letterman jacket off and bunched it into a ball. 
“You might as well crown yourself King, because you’re the exact same as the rest of us. Here--you can start with this.”  
Cocking back an arm, Steve let the jacket fly. Watched with everyone else as it  landed neatly right at Eddie’s feet. 
Shell shocked, Munson’s eyes drifted from Steve down to the letterman jacket and back. They were massive, those stupid eyes of his, but at least it meant Steve could see the realization wash over the guy in real time. 
Steve should have felt smug about it. His past self would have.
Presently? 
He just felt tired. 
“You’re welcome to jam it up your ass.” He finished, before giving his own sarcastic half bow to the room.  
The cafeteria was dead silent. Not a fork was scraped, or a loud piece of chip chewed. All eyes were on Steve, some waiting to see if Eddie would let him have the last word, others just  shocked to see Steve lose his shit in front of them. 
Idiot he was, he tried to rally anyway. 
Even Tommy, who’d partly stood up, hands pressed against the lunch table looked shocked.
“What the fuck Steve!?” He sputtered, and it wasn’t long before half the basketball team was muttering similar remarks. 
They were ignored. 
Whispers ripped across the room when Steve turned on his heel, striding towards the exit and making it clear things were over, but Tommy didn’t give up. 
“Fuck you Harrington!” He hurled at his back, Carol now standing and placing a restraining hand on his arm.  “You’re not fucking better than any of us!” 
Steve didn’t even look back. 
"That's my point Tommy." Steve said, loud enough to be heard. "No one is better than anyone else. You lot are all just buying into your own bullshit.” 
Then he was slamming through the doors, and out into the sunlight. 
xXx
He didn’t want to go home.
Not anymore, which was ironic in a way that made Steve’s face screw up in a grimace.  
Here he’d been dying to go to his stupid house all day, and now, after losing his shit and undoubtedly, the last of his social standing, he just didn’t feel like being by himself.
All alone, in a house too big for him, full of nothing but dark corners and a phone that never rang. 
So instead, he wandered, reminiscing on how Valentine's Day used to be his favorite day of the year. 
Steve loved the gesture of it all--the romance, the wooing. The butterflies floating in one's stomach, mixing with fear of rejection and a burning kind of hope towards starting something new. 
Of course, Steve also had always had a girl in mind, when he celebrated. Now, after Nancy…
He did not.
It felt weird to go to Skull Rock--the place he himself had made into Hawkins hottest makeout spots. Likewise all the local restaurants were off limits--too many adults knew how much he loved the holiday. 
Steve didn’t want to face that. The expectations, the knowing winks that would slide into uncomfortable frowns. Any possible advice given wouldn’t be appreciated, and the last thing Steve wanted was to get the “everyone has an off season, son” speech. 
So he’d stayed away from his usual haunts. Explored some storefronts instead, the Beamer parked in front of Family Video as he wandered. 
Had an entirely too peaceful two hours, which of course, meant he had to bump into someone.
At least, Steve thought dully, whole body tensing in preparation, it was Munson. 
Not Hargrove, or Tommy, or hell--the children, demanding he help them fight some other fucked up creature the government had accidentally summoned. 
“Hey Harrington.” Munson said, and it took a moment for Steve to realize the guy was embarrassed. “I uh, I need to talk to you.” 
Steve just stared at him.
“If you couldn’t tell from earlier,” He warned, “I’m a little done talking for today.” 
Or any day, for the foreseeable future. 
“Yeah no--I, I got that.  I--okay.” Eddie stopped rocking on his heels, before giving his entire body a shake, like the guys sometimes did while prepping for a game. “Hear me out, and then you can deck me or leave or whatever makes you feel better.” 
“I’m not going to deck you.” Steve said, exasperated and frazzled and not wanting to do this whole song and dance a second time. 
Not that it mattered, because Munson had already launched right into whatever it was he needed to say. 
“There’s this book right? My Uncle got it for me. It’s a fantasy book all about this big battle and there’s these wizards in it, and--” He stopped himself, shaking out his hands.
Like he realized he was rambling and needed the movement to get himself back on track. 
“I always--I guess I saw myself as a Gandalf kinda guy? Like I was this shepherd herding these lost sheep. A person who intimately knew all the dark forces of the world and could be a shield for them. Do not pass and all that.” 
He chuckled, but it was weak, and he killed it almost immediately. 
“...Okay?” Steve said, knowing he was supposed to say something here, even if he had no idea what. 
Maybe something about how Gandalf the Grey wasn’t exactly a shepard given he’d led the hobbits straight into Mordor, but saying that meant admitting Steve knew what Lord of the Rings was, which wasn’t a conversation he felt like getting into. 
Particularly not because he’d only read the damn things after losing a bet to Dustin and Mike both. 
Munson nodded, as if acknowledgement was all he needed. 
 “I thought that’s what I was doing. I wasn’t and I didn’t realize I wasn’t until you pointed it out. You shouldn’t have had to point it out. You shouldn’t have had to say any of what you did.” He rushed to add, oddly sincere. 
"Is this…" Steve might be confused but catching on, an uptick at the corners of his mouth as the tiniest spark of amusement leaked through. "an apology? Are you trying to apologize right now?"
Eddie groaned, flinging his head back. "No!” 
Then immediately; 
“Actually yes, but--”  
Which caught Steve off guard enough that he laughed, and had to hide it with a cough. 
“I am sorry, man. I shouldn’t have said that shit about you, especially not about you and Wheeler. It's more than that though.” Munson swallowed, before squaring his shoulders. “It’s that you were right." 
“I was right?” Steve repeated dumbly, because fuck, he couldn’t believe it either. 
Not that Munson heard him. Eddie always had been hard to stop once he started, and Steve had been in enough classes with the guy to know the train had left the station. 
"I did yell at Jeff because he wanted to watch that stupid football game.” He began, and Steve got a front row seat to watch as one Eddie Munson word vomited his way through a myriad of emotions. 
“I fuckin’ lost it on Grant because he missed band practice to drive his sister to some thing. Gareth looked like I was going to hit him when I asked if I had really been that bad--same exact look he gave Hagan and those other assholes that cornered him in the bathroom two weeks ago!” 
“Tommy did what?” 
Steve was promptly ignored. 
(Or more likely, Eddie simply didn’t hear him, too lost in his own voice to realize Steve had said something.) 
There were a lot of mentions of the Gandalf guy. Where Eddie thought he’d gone wrong, and even something about a glowing eye thing that had Steve a little concerned until he realized Munson was talking about Sauron (and also made Steve realize that he’d been pronouncing Sauron in his head wrong, oops.) 
“I called up this friend of mine who graduated. She’s always been no nonsense, so I asked her for her advice.” Munson said, finally seeming to slow down a little. “She told me I might as well eat my own doctrine because I sure wasn’t living by it, and that if I wanted to fix it then I should start by apologizing. To everyone but--to you, first.” 
Eddie took a step back, winging out his hands as if to present himself. 
“So here I am. Apologizing.” 
A pause wherein neither of them did a thing, which caused him to awkwardly add; “To uh, you. Harrington.” 
“Yeah I got that.” Steve said, because what else was he supposed to do here? “Good for you? I guess?”
“Most people either forgive a guy or tell him to fuck off.”  Munson pouted, and mimicked like he was kicking at a rock. 
It made Steve want to laugh again, though he shoved the urge down. 
“Someone once told me,” He said instead, speaking slowly to make damn sure he didn’t let slip this piece of advice came from a middle schooler. “that apologies without actions don’t really mean anything. They’re a start--they let people know you’re aware you screwed up, but no one’s going to trust you if you don’t follow through. So I can forgive you, but I think you’re better off doing this with one of your friends.” 
Someone who would hug it out, or at least tell Eddie how he could be better, at least. 
Rather than argue, Munson just titled his head back, eyes to the sky. Like he was really thinking on the words, before giving a sort of accepting sounding noise.  
“Trying too.” Steve admitted with a sigh. 
“That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?” He asked, head coming back down so he could stare at Steve.
“The thing in the cafeteria was a good start.” 
“Yeah?” 
Eddie grinned. 
“Yeah. Don’t think Hagan’s gonna see it the same way though.” 
“We were falling out anyway.” Steve admitted, and hated how easy it was to say.
That they really were just going through the motions of friendship. Had been, ever since Jonathan had punched Steve in the face. 
“Think you lost more than just him as a friend, to be honest.”  
“Pro tip about the actions thing, Munson?” Steve said with a snort, once again unsure of where this conversation was going, “Nice people don’t typically point out when someone’s turned into a social pariah.” 
“No, I get that. Say,” Eddie’s grin had grown, which Steve would have taken poorly except he invaded Steve’s space with a goofy little hop. “I think you might be in need of some new ones!” 
“New…friends?” Steve hesitated, very unsure of what was happening. 
Munson promptly stuck his hand out. “Yup! So--hello, my name is Eddie Munson, and I am here to apply for the position as your friend!” 
Steve snorted, but the harshness of it was taken away by the grin on his face. 
He took Eddie’s hand, noting how doing so made the older teen’s smile widen. 
“Nice to meet you Eddie, I’m Steve.” 
Excited, Eddie waived their arms up and down, with far more enthusiasm than the gesture required. 
“How about we cement our new friendship by renting a truly terrible horror movie and drowning our woes with my other good friend, Mary Jane?” 
Then he waggled his eyebrows, like that was something scandalous. 
“Tempting me along with weed, huh?” Steve mused back, sticking his hands in his pockets once Eddie let him go. “Guess you’re a little like Gandalf the Gray after all. Just don’t send me on any missions.” 
“Steve Harrington.” Eddie gaped, pure delight spreading across his face. “Have you read Lord of the Rings!?” 
He got a shrug and a sly; “Maybe.” in response. 
It was worth the barrage of questions, even if the rapid fire pace of them nearly gave Steve a headache.
(Just as it was worth it several months later, when Steve was comfortable enough to instigate wrestling matches with Eddie over the dumbest of things. 
One particularly semi-drunk tussle over the remote led to an interesting discovery when Eddie popped a boner, and then frantically tried to escape when it brushed against Steve’s leg. 
 Instead of panicking--or letting Eddie bolt in his panic, Steve just dropped his whole weight down, effectively pinning the slimmer man to the floor. 
“Steve.”
Eddie said it so quietly he almost didn’t hear it, the word filled with desperation.
The kind of tone someone whispered a prayer in, a sort of pleading that Eddie did better with his eyes than his voice. Or would have, given his own were firmly scrunched closed the second he realized he’d been caught out. 
Except--
“Not right now I’m thinking.”  Steve told him absently. 
Which he was. Speed thinking even, if that was a thing. 
Because if two plus two equaled four (which it did) then feeling the exact same, fluttering excitement about Eddie’s boner as Steve had Nancy’s breasts, equaled…
“The fuck? Steve--”
Steve shushed him. 
That pulled a frustrated, embarrassed groan from Eddie that went directly to Steve’s own dick, not that it needed much help waking up. 
“I think I’m having one of those crisis’s Robin is always accusing the basketball team of having.” Steve informed Eddie dutifully, the dots done connecting.
Eddie, still refusing to open his eyes, snorted. 
“Whatever man. Can you at least be decent and hurry up with the beating? This is embarrassing enough.” 
“I’m not going to beat you up.” Steve said, thankful that his brain managed not to add some shitty comment about the entire town being awash in rumors of Eddie’s sexuality. That he’d confirmed it here wasn’t exactly a surprise. 
“I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it, let me know.” Streve added, before screwing up his courage and leaning down.
That of course, got Eddie to open his eyes.
“Wha--” He managed, before Steve’s lips were on his. 
For one single, blissful moment, Eddie Munson’s mouth was too busy to talk. 
“Yeah?” Eddie said, voice wrecked, and oh, Steve liked that. 
“Huh.” Steve muttered, when they broke for air. “Well that’s new.”
Liked the way Eddie looked at him more, hesitant, but with heat in his gaze. 
Steve had always been good about knowing what to do with heat. 
He leaned back down, pecking lightly at Eddie’s lips, and was delighted to find Eddie not only let him, but kissed back. 
“Not bad, Munson, but I think I could give you a few pointers.” Steve muttered, nose ghosting alongside Eddie’s. “Let me show you…” 
One boyfriend, several weeks, and another interdimensional monster later, Steve found himself socked in the arm by none other than his coworker, Robin Buckley. 
In her defense, she’d confessed her love for Tammy Thompson, still somewhat drugged on the Starcourt bathroom floor, only for Steve to tease her that at least his boyfriend could actually sing. 
“God you and Eddie Munson.” She muttered after, smile on her face. “How did that happen?” 
Steve knocked his shoe into hers, returning the grin unabashedly. 
“So remember last Valentines Day?” Steve started, all too eager to finally tell someone who understood about the best thing to ever happen to him. 
Robin of course, would soon also be ranked in that same chart, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. ) 
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inkskinned · 9 months
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you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.
you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.
he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.
a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.
he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.
you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.
people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.
wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.
also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.
he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."
you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.
"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."
he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.
you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.
is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?
you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.
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ja3yun · 28 days
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Red Ocean | P.JS
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vampire!jay x succubus!femreader warnings: smut (mdni), rough, unprotected sex, power dynamics, blood and biting (a lot of it), dirty talk, spanking, oral (m.rec), throat fucking, swallowing, mentions of manipulation and control (but all consensual!), not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 8.5k synopsis: with jongseong starving for his next feed as a self proclaimed veggie, his friend suggests visiting red ocean to quench his thirst, but when he gets there, there's something off about the place. a/n: hi! so listen, this is completely new territory for me bc i write cute lovey dovey scenes and this is pure FILTH. this was originally going to be a thank you for 1.5k (which thank you btw!) but i think i want to write something else for that since this kind of fic doesn't suit some people's taste, so please enjoy it as just a lil something. there is a lot of blood and vampire stuff so like, if you don't enjoy that, feel free to scroll!
Slumping onto the couch beside his buddy Jake, Jongseong looks like he's been through the wringer. His eyes are droopy, his head's pounding, and he's got this desperate hunger gnawing at him. "I'm fucking starving," he groans, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the craving for blood that's been driving him nuts.
It has been 4 weeks since he has had a decent meal and he is starting to lose the strength in his body, his powers growing weaker by the second. It’s gotten so bad that he almost mauled the girl next to him in the lift on the way up to his best friend, Jake’s apartment, thinking about how good it would be to pierce her neck and taste her blood on his tongue, drinking her until he’s stuffed.
But it goes against Jongseong’s number one rule: never feed from a human.
Jongseong has lived his life for 148 years and lived 127 years of it as a vampire. He has been a self-proclaimed vegetarian for over 60 years, vowing that now he can control his thirst around humans, he will never feed from anyone ever again. It was a personal choice, one that is lost on his friends because, to them, one of the greatest pleasures in this shitty never-ending life is to feast on fresh human blood.
It’s not that he didn’t love the taste of human blood, in fact, he often finds dinner within the confines of a type O blood bag that Jake kindly provides him when on shift. His friend works as a delivery man, transporting goods from one hospital to another, and sometimes while he has to use the ‘bathroom’ he sniffs out what he calls the Treasure Room; a room filled with red gold. Stealing the blood is easy, it’s understanding why Jongseong won’t just suck on a pure nape that is the hard part.
“There are some bags in the fridge,” Jake points over to his white, shabby refrigerator where he keeps some spare bags of sweet crimson for himself, “I can’t keep doing this, Jongseong. The hospitals are starting to notice and it’s hard enough to feed me never mind you,” he exhales heavily, trying to relay to Jongseong the burden he carries.
Jongseong sighs, fighting to find the energy to drag himself to the fridge, “I’m sorry, the closest woods is 5 hours away and wildlife doesn't exactly run rampant around these parts,” he retorts, hoping his friend will understand his struggle.
The bags are nice, but they’re cold and stale, he wants something warm and substantial, something only living beings can provide. Unfortunately for him, deer and foxes have been scarce in recent weeks.
Nodding, Jake pulls himself off the couch to grab him and his friend a bag. Jongseong watches Jake take the blood bags from the refrigerator, his stomach twisting with relief and remorse. He despises having to rely on Jake for meals, knowing the toll it puts on his friend.
Jake hands him one of the bags before sitting beside him once again, concern etched on his face, “You could start feeding from humans again,” he suggests, knowing that it’s sort of a lost cause. Jongseong has been a veggie for so long that he knows the idea is ludicrous to him, but it seems like his only option now.
“Not a chance in hell,” Jongseong argues back, piercing his fangs into the blood bag and sucking some out of it, his eyes lighting up as he tastes the sweetness. Despite his love for human blood, he stands by his morals, “I’m not that person, I’m not like those mosquitoes from the Tracks.”
The Tracks are notorious for hosting some of the most bloodthirsty vampires to roam Seoul. They’re lethal and dangerous; in Jongseong’s eyes, they might as well be parasites. He knows it’s wrong to cast judgment on a whole group of people based on a few individuals, but these creatures aren’t like Jake and Jongseong; they’re predatory and conniving, doing whatever it takes to get humans to surrender to them, even if that means abusing their power.
Jongseong vowed to never do such a thing, to keep humans safe. After all, he was laid victim to the hands of a vampire all those years ago, why would he now wish to cause the same harm to an innocent being? 
Jake sits up straight, his thinking cap secured firmly on his head, “What if they consented? Like how Bona has consented to me?” he offers as a solution.
Bona is Jake’s long-term human blood bag turned girlfriend, she allows Jake to take what he needs from her, trusting him to never harm her. It works tremendously well, however, as much as she is there to provide herself to her man, Jake doesn’t like to abuse the offering, hence the use of blood bags for himself.
Jongseong scoffed, recognising the uniqueness of Jake's situation, "It’s alright for you to say, your girlfriend is the most chilled person I know. Could you imagine if I just walked up to someone and was like ‘Hey, can I suck on one of your main arteries for a couple of minutes?’ I’m sure that’ll go down well,” he remarked sarcastically, highlighting the absurdity of the notion.
Suddenly, Jake’s eyes light up as if he had come up with the solution to all of Jongseong’s problems, “What about Red Ocean?” he queries.
“The sex club? I’m hungry, not horny, Jake,” Jongseong says back.
Red Ocean is a famous strip joint in the middle of town that also provides bonus services to those who throw enough money around. It’s not the worst place in the world but it is certainly not what he is looking for.
“Well you’re single as well as hungry,” Jake starts, his face never diminishing his bright expression, “What if you could quench both thirsts at once?”
Jongseong had no problem getting laid, in fact, he was good as it gets for a superb fuck around these parts; it didn’t take long for him to lure women into his bed for a one night thing. But that didn’t mean he feasted on them, he was far too much a gentleman for that. The woman that he slept with signed up to get pounded into, not drained of their blood.
"What the fuck are you even suggesting? That I go feed off some poor girl just because she's a sex worker? It's a legitimate profession, you know," Jongseong argues vehemently, placing the now-empty blood bag on the coffee table before him.
Rolling his eyes, Jake lets out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, yeah, we all know you’re a feminist" he quips, brushing off Jongseong's defence, "But Red Ocean isn't just your run-of-the-mill sex club. My buddy Jungwon told me they've got a whole section specifically for vampires like us. Plenty of willing donors, no strings attached."
Jongseong runs a hand over his face, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in, "But why would anyone agree to that?" he wonders aloud, struggling to comprehend the idea of people willingly offering themselves up as disposable blood bank for a paycheck.
Shrugging nonchalantly, Jake takes a sip from his own blood bag, "Different strokes for different folks, I guess," he offers with a shrug as if that explains everything, "I'll have Wonnie send over the details."
Despite his reservations, Jongseong knows that his hunger won't be satisfied for long with just blood bags. Reluctantly, he nods, conceding to Jake's suggestion. Perhaps Red Ocean holds the key to quelling his insatiable cravings without compromising his morals. Only time will tell.
_____
Standing outside the red-lit nightclub, Jongseong hypes himself up to enter, his comfort zone being pushed to its brink. He is a homebody who enjoys binging TV shows and playing his guitar, so this venture is foreign to him. 
His nervousness is heightened by the fact that he is here alone. Jake, being the devoted lover he is, would never risk an argument with Bona over a place like this. And Jongseong's other dependable friend, Heeseung, is preoccupied with a work assignment, leaving him to traverse this foreign environment on his own.
Despite his concerns, Jongseong knows he can't back out now, the hunger that lies in the pit of his stomach is only getting worse. With a final steeling of his will, he pushes open the club's entrance and enters the throbbing, crimson-hue interior, prepared to face whatever awaits him within.
The place really lives up to its name Red Ocean because all he can see in front of him is red; red lighting and neon signs, the workers are all laced with some form of red attire, and there is an ocean of people. Jongseong looks like a deer in the headlights as he walks up to the reception desk. 
His gaze is immediately drawn to a sultry figure standing near the entrance. She's the epitome of allure, with long, flowing hair cascading over her shoulders and a figure that curves in all the right places. Her eyes, smouldering with an enticing gaze, seem to beckon him forward.
She stands behind a large desk area, her presence commanding attention as she takes in the arrivals with a knowing smile. Dressed in a form-fitting dress that accentuates her ample curves, she exudes an air of confidence and sensuality that leaves Jongseong momentarily breathless.
As Jongseong approaches, he can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to his cheeks under her gaze. Her lips curve into a seductive smile as she extends a manicured hand towards him, her voice smooth as velvet as she speaks.
"Welcome to Red Ocean," she purrs, her voice laced with a hint of mischief, “How can we fulfil your desires tonight?” Her question hangs in the air as Jongseong is entranced by her.
He can’t put his finger on it, but suddenly he’s more tired than before, his body almost as if it’s being led on its own, like he’s having a strange out-of-body experience. Perhaps it’s the heat mixed in with the smoke, or maybe it’s something more.
Clearing his throat nervously, Jongseong tries to regain his composure as he addresses the hostess. "Um, yeah, I was told there's a private area?" he asks, hoping she'll understand his subtle hint.
With a dark smile, the hostess nods, her gaze lingering on him with a knowing glint. "Absolutely, sir. For £700, you can enjoy the company of one of our talented performers in a private setting, with a complimentary bottle of champagne," she explains smoothly, her fingers dancing across the screen of her iPad.
Jongseong defiantly shakes his head, “No, no, none of that,” he notices how her smile drops as if he has offended her, “No! I just don’t…I don’t need that kind of service,” he says softly. This is going a lot more awkwardly than he had planned. The last thing he needs to do is offend her, this could be his only chance at a proper meal for weeks.
There’s also a nagging voice in the back of his mind that’s telling him to be careful. Telling this woman outright that he is a vampire could end disastrously, hunters lurk in every corner of the city, waiting for their moment to capture vampires exactly like him. It’s not easy to tell who is a hunter and who isn’t, so for all he knows, this club could be collecting vampires and luring them in with possibilities of feeding when in actual fact, they will tear them limb from limb and burn them out back.
He has to tread carefully here.
The atmosphere is heavy around him as he tries to regain control of the situation, but with his energy low, it’s proving difficult, “Do you provide…special services?” he asks, puffing out his chest a little to feign confidence.
Jongseong isn’t a timid person, he’s always been known for being strong and confident but for some reason, he’s regressed back to his little awkward, virgin self. This place is throwing his entire aura off and messing with his head. Maybe it’s just the hunger that sits within him.
The hostess eyes him sceptically, her gaze lingering on him in a way that sets his nerves on edge. "We offer a variety of unique services, tailored to each individual's preferences," she replies, her voice dipping seductively as she sizes him up. "So, sir, how can I ensure you have the best experience possible?"
Jongseong shifts uncomfortably under the weight of the hostess's scrutiny, his mind racing with uncertainty. He hadn't expected this encounter to be so challenging. Every instinct tells him to tread cautiously, to protect himself from potential danger while still satisfying his hunger.
"I... I'm looking for something," Jongseong finally manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something... off the menu, so to speak."
The hostess raises an eyebrow, her expression unreadable as she considers his request but she doesn’t budge, in fact, she crosses her arms, clearly having enough of this encrypted conversation. Jongseong needs to be straightforward if he wants to leave here fully satisfied.
The password.
How could he forget that Jake had texted him a password? Once Jake had asked his friend Jungwon for more details, he said the only way to get into the back area with the other vampires was with a password. Jongseong’s brain has been so clouded since he walked in here that he completely forgot the one important detail.
"Dracaena Trifasciata," he manages to utter, though his pronunciation leaves much to be desired. Still, the hostess's reaction tells him he got the message across, her bored expression transforming into a sly smirk.
As Jongseong watches, spellbound, the hostess's transformation leaves him momentarily breathless. Her once closed-off demeanour now radiates warmth and familiarity, as if she's greeting an old friend rather than a stranger.
"My little crimson crusader," she purrs, her voice sending a shiver down Jongseong's spine. "Why didn't you just say so?"
Her words are like a siren's call, drawing Jongseong closer until he stands before her, unable to resist her magnetic presence. As she reaches across the desk, her hands beckoning him nearer, Jongseong obeys without hesitation, his curiosity mingled with a sense of trepidation.
With deft fingers, she undoes the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt, her touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across his skin. He feels a flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach as her hands glide over his chest, exploring with an intimacy that leaves him feeling exposed and vulnerable.
She tilts her head, her gaze locking with his in a silent exchange of understanding. Jongseong can't tear his eyes away from hers, captivated by the depths of emotion swirling within them.
Despite the warmth of her touch, Jongseong can't shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at the edges of his consciousness. There's something about her that feels off, something that sets his instincts on edge. She isn’t a vampire, the heat of her touch is enough to clarify, but she is certainly no human.
But as he stands there, caught in her gaze, he finds himself unable to pull away. Whatever she is, whatever secrets she holds, Jongseong knows one thing for certain: he's in deeper than he ever imagined, and there's no turning back now.
As she pulls away, a sense of relief washes over him, though he can still feel the lingering intensity of the hostess's gaze. Standing upright behind her desk once more, she regards him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, "You're a lot younger than those we see around these parts. You can't be any more than 160," she muses, her perceptive gaze honing in on Jongseong's youthful aura.
"I'm 148," Jongseong admits quietly, a hint of embarrassment colouring his tone. He's never given much thought to his age, existing as a perpetual 21-year-old who happened to live through 3 plagues and 2 world wars. 
Pouting playfully, the hostess holds a hand over her heart in mock sympathy, "Aw, you're just a baby," she coos, her tone patronising. The remark sends a surge of irritation coursing through Jongseong, his shoulders tensing and his jaw clenching involuntarily.
He suppresses the urge to retort, reminding himself to tread carefully in this unfamiliar territory. Despite the hostess's seemingly jovial demeanour, there's an underlying edge to her words that sets him on edge.
Circling the desk, the hostess stands in front of the young vampire, her body dangerously close to his as she leans up and presses her lips to his ear, “Follow me, I’ll lead you to everything you’re starving for,” she whispers. Jongseong feels a shiver run down his spine as the hostess's warm breath caresses his ear, her words sending a jolt of anticipation through him. Despite the warning bells ringing in the back of his mind, he finds himself unable to resist the allure of her invitation.
_____
As Jongseong weaves through the crowded club, his senses are assaulted by the mingling scents of sweat, alcohol, and, most tantalizingly, human blood. Each passerby sends a wave of hunger coursing through him, his fangs threatening to descend at any moment. But he clenches his jaw, reminding himself of his resolve to abstain from feeding on humans. Yet, isn’t that what he’s on his way to do?
Beside him, the hostess effortlessly navigates the throng of clubgoers, her presence commanding attention wherever she goes. She greets familiar faces with a knowing smile, exchanging pleasantries with ease. Jongseong can't help but marvel at her confidence and poise, even as his own nerves threaten to betray him.
Eventually, they reach a door marked "Staff," but as the hostess swings it open, Jongseong is met with an unexpected sight - a long, dimly lit brick corridor stretching out before him. The hostess glances back at him, urging him to follow with a subtle gesture.
With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, Jongseong steps through the doorway, the weight of uncertainty heavy on his shoulders. He can't shake the feeling that he's venturing into uncharted territory, but with the promise of satisfying his hunger looming before him, he presses on.
As they reach the end of the corridor, Jongseong's heart quickens with anticipation, his senses heightened as they stand before the heavy, rusty door, “It’s just through here…” she trails off, silently asking for his name.
“Jongseong,” he replies, bowing his head in politeness. 
"Jessica," she offers in return, a slight grin playing on the corners of her mouth. Her simple gesture of introducing herself somehow eased the tension that had been coiling in his chest.
Jessica pushes open the door, revealing what can only be described as another reality. As Jongseong crosses the threshold, he feels as if he has been transported to a place beyond his imagination. The space before him is bathed in a delicate, ethereal glow, and the air vibrates with a palpable energy that awakens his senses. Peculiar symbols decorate the walls, their significance unknown to Jongseong but imbuing the place with an aura of ancient mysticism.
Jongseong's eyes widen in astonishment as he takes in the scene before him. The space beyond the heavy door is bustling with activity, filled with vampires from every generation lounging on plush couches and perched on bar stools. Gone is the facade of the club he had entered earlier; this is the true heart of Red Ocean.
The lavish area makes Jongseong question everything he has ever known. How many places are there like this? He hadn’t heard about this secret club until only a few days ago, so how long has it been here?
More importantly, “Uh, how much is this service?” he asks timidly as his eyes still scouting around the area where vampires are chatting away as if they aren’t deadly creatures of the night.
“Oh baby boy, don’t worry about that,” she smirks, turning to face him. It’s an ominous response, one that doesn’t fill him with much confidence, but he’s so hungry and weak that he can’t afford to pass up this opportunity due to mere scepticism. As long as it doesn’t break the bank, he’s willing to pay whatever he needs to quench this thirst.
The air in this new section of the club only serves to make him feel weaker like it’s sucking the breath from his lungs.
As Jessica looks around the room, his eyes follow, leading him to see a beautiful girl leaning against the bar, nursing her drink. The hostess’ face beams as she ushers the mystery girl over, much to Jongseong’s delight.
He might only be here to feed but who says he can’t indulge in these needs with someone beautiful like her?
“Y/N! Over here,” Jessica shouts, gesturing her friend forward. 
As you hear Jessica's call, you set your drink down, licking the remnants of the sweet beverage from your lips. It’s been a slow night for you, your usual boy cancelling last minute, leaving you in desperate need of someone new, someone to play with.
Snaking your way towards the awkward boy, you make sure your movements are purposeful, each sway of the hip intentional as you lure him into your vice. He’s a pretty little thing, much prettier than half of the men here, so you find yourself trying to grip him with your movements, beckoning him closer with every step.
As you approach him, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you. There's something about him that sets him apart from the others in the room, something that makes your pulse quicken with anticipation. 
This is going to be a fun night.
"You are just the girl I need to treat my little sucky cup here well," Jessica states with a teasing grin, tracing her hand down Jongseong's arm, causing him to swallow deeply, "Could you take him off my hands?"
As you get closer, a rush of exhilaration runs through you. Jongseong's lingering gaze on you, hunger and desire in his eyes, just adds gasoline to the fire that is blazing within you.
Stepping closer, you rub his chest, much like the hostess had done but your touch is a lot more enticing, the way your fingertips linger on his skin a little too long causes his dick to twitch and his knees to crumble, as if he wanted to bow down and worship the ground you walked on.
Your leg slips between his, your knee rubbing against his inner thigh, close enough that he can feel it near his cock but far away enough to have him whining for more contact, "What's your name, baby?" you ask softly, your voice dripping with seduction as you look up at him through hooded eyes. You can see the desire burning in his gaze, the hunger for something more, and you're more than willing to give him what he craves, even if he doesn’t quite know what that is yet.
Jongseong's chest tightens at your touch, and his senses are overwhelmed by the magnetism you exude. With each passing second, he becomes fascinated by your presence, unable to resist the pull of attraction that draws him closer to you.
"Jongseong...Jay....Jongseong," he replies, his voice a frantic whisper. Your proximity, mixed with the gentle motions of your body against his, causes him to feel dizzy with need.
You stifle a laugh as your nails dig into his chest, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Jongseong. "Jongseong Jay Jongseong, I’m Y/N," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction, "Would you like me to take you somewhere with a little more privacy?"
Your gaze meets his with an intensity that sends a shiver down his spine, your fingers digging into his flesh with a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Or would you like to have an audience?" you continue, your eyes wandering to the left.
Jongseong follows your gaze, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes in the scene before him. To the left, round couches are cluttered with vampires indulging in their primal desires, feeding from their claimed workers, fucking into them with velocity. Some couples are locked in passionate embraces, their bodies entwined in a frenzy of lust, while others simply watch on, their eyes gleaming with arousal.
One particular couple catches Jongseong's attention, the sight of blood dripping down the girl's body as she relishes the feeling of a vampire pounding into her from behind, their shared moans only silenced by the loud music that surrounds the club. He hates to admit it, but it makes Jongseong’s dick twitch.
Peeling his eyes away, he returns his gaze to you, “Private, please.”
You withdraw your body from him, leaving him aching for your touch. You held so much power over him despite being a supernatural creature, "A gentleman, huh?" you tease, your voice dripping with amusement. "Let's see how long that lasts." He can't help but feel a sense of longing as you tease him with your words, your playful demeanour only adding to the intensity of his need.
If he was starving before, he’s ravenous now.
You lightly intertwine your fingers with his as you pull him towards your private room,  the knuckles of his hand brush along your ass as you stay a step in front of him. His eyes rake over the back of your body and take in the sight of you. You are perfect in every way, your body exactly his type, the lingerie set you have on is a beautiful white laced number that leaves nothing to the imagination. 
Jongseong is too busy admiring the way your ass cheeks jiggle as you walk that he doesn’t even notice you opening the door and leading him in. Your presence is like a drug all on its own, like he needs to surrender himself to you to experience the full pleasure. 
The moment Jongseong sets his eyes on the room and not your body, he's enveloped in a world of sensual decadence and luxury. The walls are draped in rich, red and gold fabrics, casting the space in a warm, inviting glow. Intricate patterns adorn the walls, adding a touch of opulence to the intimate setting.
In the centre of the room sits a large, lavish round bed, its sheets adorned with intricate designs that shimmer in the soft light. The bed beckons invitingly, promising hours of pleasure and indulgence for those who dare to partake.
To one side of the room, a collection of toys is splayed out in the corner, their presence adding a hint of playful excitement to the air. From silk restraints to feathered ticklers, the array of implements promises endless possibilities for exploration and delight.
But that’s not what he is here for, he is here for a quick feed to tide him over for the next few weeks until he can go out hunting again. This is transactional and absolutely nothing more.
Lighting a few candles on the mantlepiece, you hear him speak up behind you, “Uhm, you should know that I’m not here to have sex or anything, I just need to feed a little,” he confesses.
The room, though exquisitely decorated, suddenly feels charged with tension as Jongseong's words hang in the air. The candles flicker softly, casting dancing shadows across the red and gold decor as you turn to face him, your expression unreadable.
"Excuse me?" you respond, your voice laced with disbelief. For a moment, Jongseong can sense a flash of anger in your eyes, a flicker of indignation at his suggestion.
But before he can backtrack, Jongseong rushes to explain himself, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "I'll pay for the full service!" he blurts out, desperation evident in his voice. "But to be honest, I just need some blood, that's all."
You laugh, slowly sleeking your way back to him. If he was turned on by the view of you from the back, he was foaming at the mouth as he took in the sight of your breasts spilling slightly out of the white-laced cups. 
“Jongseong, who told you about this place?” you ask, leading him to sit down on the edge of the bed.
“A friend of a friend,” he replies, trying not to touch your sides with his big hands despite the urge that flows through him. 
To make matters harder for him, you straddle Jongseong's lap and a surge of arousal courses through him at the feeling of your barely covered pussy pressing against his covered cock. His breath catches in his throat as you wrap your arms around his neck, your proximity overwhelming his senses.
"And did this friend of a friend tell you about our services? What it entails?"
With a playful pout, you gaze into his eyes, your seductive gaze leaving him feeling helpless under your spell. His mind goes blank, his thoughts scattered as he struggles to gather his thoughts in the face of your overwhelming allure. All he can do is shake his head in response to your question, his lips parting slightly in silent anticipation.
Blinking slowly, you draw him in closer, your silent command irresistible as he leans towards you, drawn by an invisible force he can't resist. And as your lips hover mere inches apart, you whisper words that send a shiver down his spine.
"You feed from my blood," you murmur, your voice sending a thrill through him as you grind down onto him, eliciting a shallow moan that you swallow eagerly, "And I feed from your desire."
It’s like something finally clicks in his brain; the lack of energy, the pull you have on him, his hunger replaced with a burning desire, the password being a succulent snake plant. You were no human.
“You're a succubus,” he whispers, the words hanging in the air as confirmation of what he's known deep down all along.
Placing your hands on his cheeks, you hold him in place as you swipe your tongue along his lip, tasting him for the first time. He tastes like honey, the sweetest taste you won’t be able to get enough of.
Taking his hands that are clenched tightly by his sides, you open them up and place them on your breasts which he happily obliges, “We can be called many things, succubi, Lilith’s angels, demons, the list is endless.”
As Jongseong squeezes your tits, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you, the sensation heightened by the contrast between the supple softness of your skin and the rough texture of your lingerie. Despite his attempts to resist, he finds himself unable to break free from your hold, drawn deeper into the web of desire you've woven around him. Even if he wasn’t under your spell, he doesn’t really know if he would want to stop anyway.
"We can be called many things - succubi, Lilith's angels, demons," you murmur, your voice dripping with seduction as you revel in his touch. "The list is endless."
As you speak, Jongseong can feel the weight of centuries of history and lore pressing down on him, the knowledge that vampires and succubi have long been intertwined, using one another to get what they need. But while vampires may pose a threat to humans with their insatiable thirst for blood, succubi wield power far more dangerous, feeding off human desire and emotional vulnerability.
Thus, Archangel Michael made it his mission many years ago to rid God’s great earth of any incubi and succubi, summoning his choir to catch them and burn their souls. The purge started in the 1910s, causing most demons like you to go into hiding, to save yourself from obliteration. 
It makes sense why Jongseong had never heard of this secret part of the club before, they had a lot to lose if news got out. For Michael’s choir, if they were to find out about this place, they would have a field day, picking apart each and every one of them.
You see his brain ticking and it makes you giggle, “We can help one another out, no?” you pose the question, knowing you can make him say whatever you need him to, to do whatever you please with him. Flicking your hair to the side, you expose your pure nape, “C’mon Jongseong, aren’t you starving?” you say seductively, your tone hushed as you emphasise the word starving.
Jongseong’s hand reaches up to touch your exposed neck to feel the blood pumping through your veins. He can hear it coursing along your neck, begging to be drunk by him. He licks his lips in longing, knowing that what he craves is just under your thin layer of skin.
As Jongseong's body reacts to your touch, his primal impulses take control, pushing him to the brink of want. His trousers tighten, a physical indication of his intense yearning. In his mind, he tells himself that you, your power, that is causing him to feel this way. But deep down, a nagging doubt persists: is it truly you, or are his own primitive urges driving him to the point of desperation?
Lost in the haze of lust, Jongseong finds himself unable to distinguish between reality and desire. The line between craving your blood and yearning to be buried deep inside your heat blurs, leaving him consumed by a frenzied need that threatens to overwhelm him.
His finger pricks your neck, drawing some blood as a taster out of the tiny wound. Involuntarily, his fangs protrude as he smells your sweet crimson blood, his mouth watering at the idea of devouring you right here, right now.
You know you’ve won, you’re going to get what you need and all at the expense of a tiny bit of blood, “That’s it, baby, give in to temptation,” you urge him, pulling his face closer to your neck. You can feel his breath ghosting over the wound and it makes your body press itself against him, seeking your own form of satisfaction.
Finally, he gives in, licking up the droplet of blood that seeps out of your neck before piercing you harshly. He savours the taste of your blood on his tongue, his senses ablaze with euphoria. Demon blood is intoxicating, having the same effect on vampires as alcohol does on humans, leaving vampires delirious with pleasure. He’s gentle compared to the older men you’ve had, meaning he has some form of restraint in him left.
Undoing his buttons, you slip off his shirt past his shoulders, hands roaming over his tanned skin as you crave to feel every inch of him. You tickle up his sides softly, causing his arms to instinctively pull you closer, pressing your tits against his bare chest as he revels in the sensation.
Retracting from your neck, his mouth stained with your blood, Jongseong's eyes meet yours with a newfound determination, "Stop controlling me," he demands, his voice laced with defiance as he challenges your hold over him.
But you shake your head, refusing to relinquish your grip, "Sorry, I can't do that," you reply, your tone unapologetic, "It's the only way I can get my end of the deal."
Jongseong bristles at your refusal, his determination only growing stronger, "Stop controlling me, and I'll fuck you properly," he challenges, his words a bold declaration of his intent.
Capturing your lips in his, he bites down on your bottom lip, sucking the sweet blood from it as he loses himself in the moment, bucking his hips up to rub his jeans against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.
In that moment, Jongseong proves himself to be more than just another vampire under your control. With his youth and vigour, he possesses a raw intensity that sets him apart, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter than ever before.
Licking along his right fang to taste your own blood, you moan out, craving him more than anyone ever before, “Fine. But don’t disappoint me, baby. I would hate to use you like a puppet,” you whisper back, your tongue collecting more of your blood from his chin.
In a flash, Jongseong feels like he finally has his energy back, that weight of your control finally lifted, leaving him the opportunity to do whatever he wants with you. Although he knew the intensity of your manipulation, he hadn’t realised how freeing it was to be in control of his own body.
Quickly, he lifts you up and tosses you on the bed, his strength showing as you fly up to the middle of the large bed. His display of strength only fuels your desire for him further. 
You pull him by his neck to hover over you, kissing him messily as you breathe in his need for you, “Tell me what gets you off,” you say quietly, a smirk playing on your lips as you lend your hand down to cup his cock through his jeans, “You want me to suck you off?”
Jongseong groans into the kiss, the idea of your pretty lips around his shaft only sending him further into a tizzy, “Fuck yes, Princess. You think you can handle it?” his grip lands on your throat, squeezing it tightly as he shuts off your airwaves for a millisecond, “You think your tiny little mouth and throat can take me all the way?”
He originally came in here for your blood, but now all he’s thinking about is how he needs you bent over every surface, in every position, and having you begging for him. Something is appealing to him to hold so much power over one of hell’s strongest demons. Especially in your own playground.
You haven’t seen his cock, but your mouth starts to water just at the thought of it. Honestly, you didn’t expect him to be so vocal and demanding considering when you saw him he looked like he turned into the wrong club.
Maybe he was full of surprises.
Pushing him off you with all your might, you take control once again, “Edge of the bed, baby,” you instruct, sticking by your promise to not manipulate him into doing what you want, however, if he proves to be difficult, you might need to take things into your own hands.
Luckily, he’s an obedient little bat, taking off his bottoms before sitting down, stroking his thick cock as he waits for you to get into position. 
You give him a light kiss on his lips before trailing down his neck. Your actions leave your wounds seeping in front of him, inviting him to drink your blood once more. It stops you in your tracks but you don’t mind, the sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking over your wounds somehow made your pussy throb.
His fangs are anchored into you, stopping you from moving. He can’t get enough of you, your blood slowly turning into an addiction as he drains you, feeding himself full of you. 
Reaching your hand down, you grab his cock and yank it, causing him to yelp and withdraw his mouth from you. Jongseong’s eyes are wide as if questioning your intentions but you only offer him a laugh as a response, kissing into his mouth as you stroke him slowly.
Your soft hands feel amazing on his member, the way you expertly tug and squeeze him in all the right ways, it’s sensational, but he needs more. One of his hands pulls your face, holding it tightly in place as he stares deep into your eyes, “Are you going to suck my cock like you promised? Or do I have to fuck your throat instead?”
If you weren’t already wet, you were now. It’s as if he knows exactly what to say to get your motor running like he somehow knows all your turn-ons. Placing one last kiss on his lips, you snake down to his hardened length, tip pink with arousal. It’s so inviting, practically begging to be sucked.
Swiftly, you take his head into your mouth, sucking eagerly as you look up at him, eyes glistening with want and need. 
Jongseong moans out, the sight of you taking his cock in your pretty mouth while your blood is smudged all over your lips, it’s a sight he wants to etch into his brain forever. For all the years he’s been alive, this might be his favourite moment.
You love it too. As Jongseong's desire amplifies, you feel a surge of energy coursing through you, fueled by the intensity of his lust. It's a sensation unlike any other, the raw power of his desire feeding into your own, replenishing your energy with every breath he takes.
Taking him deeper into your mouth, you lay your tongue flat and bop your head up and down at a perfect pace. Jongseong grips your hair tight, creating knots in the strands as he pulls at your roots. The motion elicits a hum from your throat, sending a vibration through his cock straight to his tight balls. 
“Fuck, Princess, you’re so fucking good at that,” he states the obvious, knowing that you do this often, but this was a new experience for him, not one person has ever come close to sucking cock as good as you do.
You smile as you look up at him, your cunt dripping from his praises. It means something more when the men you’re with are saying those sorts of things out of their own free will, not because you’re feeding those thoughts into their minds.
Jongseong can feel himself getting close, ready to cum down your throat and have you swallow it. He thrusts into your mouth, now taking charge as he pushes your head down and bucks up, the back of your throat not stuffed with his fat cock.
“I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” he warns before shooting his load down your throat, each spurt making you gag as you struggle to swallow it. 
With his hand on your neck, Jongseong massages your throat, coaxing you to open wider and take in everything he has to offer. As he presses deeper into you, he can feel his length snugly nestled within your channel, the pressure from his hand adding to the pleasure coursing through him.
Finally, sensing your need for air, Jongseong pushes you off of him, allowing you to finally catch your breath. Despite not having even fucked you yet, you feel completely satiated, your body thrumming with the energy you've drawn from him.
You’re throat and face is red as you regulate your breaths, your voice hoarse as you begin to speak, “Did I meet your expectations?” you ask, biting your lip as you straddle him once more, his cock laying against your thigh.
Nodding, he pushes your hair back from your forehead, “You’re fucking unreal,” he whispers.
Laughing, you take hold of his spent cock, pumping him softly, “Can you fuck me, or is our session done?” you ask, hoping for a certain answer.
With his sensitive cock in your hand, he hisses, shutting his eyes as he revels in the sensation. He wants nothing more than to bend you over and fuck you senseless, but he needs to replenish the energy that he’s given away to you.
Jongseing takes your other hand, bringing your wrist to his lips. As he kisses your veins, his eyes remain locked onto yours, his teeth ready to sink in and take what he needs once again. Swiftly, he sinks his fangs in, causing you to tighten your grip on his dick, causing the vampire to moan out loudly. 
You take it as a sign to keep going, stroking him until he is hard again. 
The mixture of your hand working his oversensitive length and the blood he’s slurping out of you push his adrenaline to a new level, his energy replenished and his need to take you even more prominent than before.
Reluctantly, he removes himself from your wrist, kissing it softly before giving you it back, “I’m going to fuck you so good, you’re going to beg to be my personal blood bag,” he whispers, primal thirst for blood overtaking his body. But you don’t mind, truthfully, you like this side of him, it gets you off seeing him take control of you.
With a firm grip on your ass, Jongseong lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the centre of the bed and laying you down gently. Your heart pounds in anticipation as he moves your thong aside, exposing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.
Desperate for release, you wrap your legs around his hips, grinding your folds against his throbbing cock in search of any form of relief. The friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that spreads up to your stomach.
Jongseong's desire burns hot as he positions himself between your legs, his eyes locking with yours as he prepares to claim you as his own. At that moment, there's no room for hesitation or restraint - only the need to lose yourselves in the ecstasy of each other's embrace.
You arch your back, urging him to take you completely. The anticipation builds between you, each moment stretching out into eternity as you both crave the release that only each other can provide.
“Tell me you want it,” he demands, his mouth finding its way back to your neck. Mewling out, you try to push his cock inside of you but he holds steady, resisting your advances, “You were being so good earlier, what happened?” he tuts.
As hot as it is for him to be in charge, you can’t stand him getting too cocky, "I want you, but that's the difference, isn't it? I want you, but you need me," you tease, running your tongue across your bottom lip in defiance.
Jongseong clenches his jaw, and his eyes deepen with want. Despite his efforts to retain control, your words create a fire within him, creating a need that threatens to swallow him completely. But he pulls himself back, determined to show you that he is still in control.
With that, he thrusts into you with a force that leaves you gasping for breath, your walls clenching around him in response to the sudden intrusion. Each movement is calculated and deliberate as he sets a punishing pace that leaves you trembling with pleasure.
He takes you roughly, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out of your wet heat. A moan escapes your lips as you feel him stuff you to the brink, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. He’s holding no punches, making sure you know exactly who needs who.
Your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake as you cling to him desperately, your body writhing beneath his with unbridled passion. Every touch, every kiss, sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that threatens to consume you entirely. 
“Jongseong!” you cry out as he drives into you harder, making sure you feel every inch of him, your walls being battered by the strength of his large dick. He’s incredible, top 5 best fucks you’ve ever had.
As Jongseong sits up, his hands pressing firmly against your back to arch you, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you as he drives himself even deeper inside you. His commanding presence leaves you breathless, lost in the intensity of the moment, “Tell me you need me,” he hisses out, spanking your ass as he thrusts faster, “Go on, beg for it.”
His demand sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but cry out in ecstasy. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, your body trembling with anticipation as he takes you to new heights of pleasure.
With your resistance cracking beneath the force of his want, you find yourself entirely succumbing to him. Your raw, needy voice fills the room as you scream for more, your words a desperate plea for relief.
"I need you, Jongseong," you cry, your voice full of longing, "I need you to fill me up, to give me your cum." Despite the roughness of his previous ministrations when he was fucking your throat silly, you find your voice somehow, driven by an intense yearning that runs through you.
A triumphant grin spreads across his face as you give in. He drags you up by your hair and makes you sit on his cock as he piledrives into you harder, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot. Your neck is still pumping out blood but he knows he can do better than that; his teeth sink into you again, tearing the flesh as he rips into you, feeding from you like a man starved for centuries. The blood drips down onto your white lingerie, turning it pink.
In the throes of ecstasy, pure bliss envelops you both as you reach the pinnacle of pleasure, screaming out each other's names in a symphony of release.
"Jongseong!" you cry out, your walls clenching tightly around him as he spills his seed deep inside you. His movements slow but remain powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Your limbs go limp as you bask in the aftermath of your shared climax, your heat still clinging to him desperately, unwilling to let him go. Every inch of your being feels alive with pleasure as if you've been transported to another realm of existence.
Collapsing on top of you, Jongseong’s pants are short as he tries to catch his breath, his entire body exhausted. His tongue licks your wounds lazily, hoping it can heal you somewhat while also drinking every last drop of his dinner. 
“You’re amazing, Y/N,” he whispers into your nape, “Are you okay? Was it too much?” he asks with genuine concern, warming your chest a little.
“I’m good, thanks, Jongseong,” your voice is hushed, the effort to speak proving too much. 
He rolls off of you, examining your body to make sure there’s nothing bleeding out. You spot him doing this and laugh, “I’m fine, it takes a lot more to kill me than some vampire bites.”
It fills him with relief to know you’ll be okay. He hasn’t ever gone that far before, giving into his vampire urges so easily. He had lost complete control tonight, but as scary as that is, he wants to experience that again.
No deer or cow will ever compare to the sweet taste of you.
Almost like reading his mind, you lean against the headboard and speak up, “If you see Jess, she’ll be able to book you in for a next time.” Your eyes glimmer with mischief and also promise. You want to be devoured by him again by any means necessary. 
Nodding, Jongseong begins to get dressed, using the wet cloths provided by the club to clean his face of any blood. It’s a shame that all that beautiful red nectar going to waste.
“What if I don’t come back?” he teases, a smirk gracing his beautiful face as he turns to you.
“You will, they always do.”
982 notes · View notes
littledovesnow · 4 months
Text
the president's wife
what happens when some rebels try and get back at coryo >:-)
a/n: angst angst angst!!, read the prologue (?) here
content warning(s): mentions of death, kidnapping, kind of canon level violence???
“Are you almost ready, my love?” Coriolanus asked, walking into the bedroom as he finished closing the cuff links on his wrists.
You nodded, walking out of the closet with a pristine pair of black stilettos in your hand, red bottoms causing a grin to spread across your husband’s face.
“Going for the vintage heels tonight?”
“Only for the most special of occasions.” You smiled, taking his hand as you stepped into the shoes. “Are you ready for your party, President Snow?”
Coriolanus’ eyes lit up when you called him that, following you out into the foyer. “More ready for the after party with you.”
You lightly slapped him on the chest, looking up at his hair. “I do wish you grew your curls out again. That’s one more thing that District 12 took from me.”
Coriolanus sighed, running a hand through his blonde locks. He had decided to keep the shorter hair from his first days back from his Peacekeeping stint, stating it made him look more professional.
“Yes, but it’s less to grab onto.” You had replied when he first brought the idea up to you. That alone almost made him grow the curls back out, but once you two discovered that it was even more fun with a buzz on the sides, the style stayed.
“Did you ever hear back from Tigris?” You asked, stepping into the black town car that was going to take you to the party.
Coriolanus had extended an invitation to his cousin to the inauguration party, but she was out in District Four with Fabricia, not due back in the Capitol for another couple days.
“She said she would try and make the earliest train back, but I haven’t heard if she’s made it or not.”
You hummed, looking out the windows as the Capitol citizens made their way to the Citadel, hoping to get a glimpse of the new First Couple. Little did they know, said couple was riding alongside them.
Coriolanus looked you up and down, hand moving to your thigh and giving it a squeeze. “You okay?”
“I am, just nervous. You know I don’t like crowds.” You had a dislike for large crowds ever since you were a young girl, having seen your father shot by rebels during what was supposed to be a routine drill.
“After tonight, you’ll not have to worry about large crowds.” Coriolanus promised you, ready to give you anything and everything under the sun.
Smiling at him, you leaned over to press a kiss to his lips, making sure the red lipstick you wore wasn’t noticeable. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Coriolanus whispered, car coming to a stop outside the front entrance of the Citadel.
-----
You had been introduced to dozens and dozens of people, you weren’t sure you even remembered who anyone was by the time you and Coriolanus were able to have a moment of peace.
There had been endless congratulations to the new President and First Lady, with handshakes and some hugs following.
Coriolanus took a sip of the posca in front of him, gesturing to the bar. “Why don’t you go ask for some champagne, I made sure they had some on order for tonight for you.”
A man after your own heart, you squeezed his hand before heading over to the bar, smiling at the bartender. “Champagne, please.”
“Ah, you’re the reason we have cases in the back.” The bartender smiled, popping the cork on a fresh bottle.
You smiled, thanking the man for the glass of bubbly. “Was champagne not a common drink with the last president?”
“No, his party-goers and visitors often went for posca and morphling over anything else.” The bartender, Gus, you read on his nametag, continued to pour drinks while talking to you. “But it seems like you and President Snow will have your fair share of pocsa and champagne, I presume?’
“Not really, Coryo doesn’t really drink unless it’s a social event.” You spoke, watching as Coriolanus was pulled into a conversation with some other politicans. “What else do you-”
You froze when you felt the telltale pressure of a gun barrel to your side.
“Move, speak, do anything to alert anyone and I’ll shoot.”
Swallowing, you looked over at Gus, who simply looked at your predicament and froze, as well, half-dry whiskey glass in his hands.
“Good.” You braved a look at the voice talking, seeing an unfamiliar man with sun damage on his face. If you had to take a stab at it, you’d guess he’s from District 11. “You’re going to follow me out the back, casually. As to not alert that husband of yours.”
“The president. You mean the president of Panem.” You whispered, regretting it as you felt the gun push harder into your side.
“Shut up.”
You braved one last look at Gus, who was about to speak when a gunshot rang out, your eyes growing wide as you saw blood stain his white shirt.
-----
Coriolanus was mid-sentence with some politicians trying to get money for District Four when he heard an all-too-familiar sound hit his ears.
People ducked for cover, screams were let out, and several Peacekeepers rushed over to Coriolanus to escort him out of the room.
He looked at the bar, heart racing when he saw you weren’t there. “Where’s my wife?” He asked, head swiveling to look around. “Did you see where she went?”
“Sir, there’s still a threat, we’ve got to move.” A Peacekeeper said, urging Coriolanus out of the room.
Unable to fight back against the increasing-number of Peacekeepers, Coriolanus was ushered into a saferoom of sorts, though nothing felt safe without you next to him.
“What the fuck happened? Where is my wife?” Coriolanus demanded, this was not how he predicted he’d be spending his first night as President.
One brave Peacekeeper spoke up. “We’re unsure of her location at the moment but-”
“What do you mean you’re unsure of her location? You better find her or your family will be wondering where you are in the morning.” Coriolanus threatened, eyes dark with rage and terror.
Peacekeepers raced out of the room, and Coriolanus collapsed into one of the seats along the wall, head falling into his hands.
He was going to lose you before you two even had a chance to live.
Heart hammering in his chest, he shot up when he heard the door open, Peacekeepers walking into the room. “There’s a bartender in the infirmary, Sir. He’s asking to speak to you.”
“Why would I-”
“He said he saw who took your wife.”
Coriolanus said no more, instead following the Peacekeepers down to the infirmary, trying to get the uneasy feeling out of his system.
Gus, who had miraculously survived a shot to the stomach, wasn’t really expecting the Peacekeepers to bring him President Snow, but he watched as the blonde followed two men into the room.
“Mr. President, I- I think some rebels broke into the party. They didn’t look Capitol, and I believe I saw one of them had a gun.”
Coriolanus immediately dismissed the Peacekeepers from the room, following them to the door and closing it.
He spun and looked at Gus, who was shaking a like a leaf. “You’re going to tell me everything you saw and heard up until they shot you. You’re going to help me find my wife, and I promise you, you will not have to worry about working again.”
Gus nodded, swallowing his nerves. “She- she was asking about what other drinks we had behind the bar. These two guys came up and I thought they were just guests, some past presidents had invited people from the Districts, I thought that’s what they were.”
Coriolanus felt his blood pressure rising by the second but urged Gus to continue.
“I didn’t know what they were going to do until Y/N stopped talking, and when I looked up I saw the run rammed into her side. I think- I think they went out the back exit.”
Coriolanus thanked Gus before darting out the door, leaving the Peacekeepers running after him.
-----
You looked around the dingy room, the only light coming from an oil lamp in the corner. “Where the hell am I?”
“Oh, she lives.”
You turned to try and get a look at the men who abducted you, though it was hard to make out any features in the dim light. “Where am I?”
“Don’t worry about that.”
Swallowing, you took a deep breath, crying out when you tried to stand. You looked down, seeing blood dripping from a large gash on your leg.
“Oh, yeah you sliced your leg when you fell.” The man nodded to the rather sharp-looking scythe to the side of you.
The door opened, and your head snapped up to see two more men walking into the room, one of them dropping their jaw when they said you. “The President’s wife?! You’ve just signed our death certificates!”
Feeling a dull ache in your head, you watched as the man who presumably kidnapped you from the party held his hands up, lazy smile on his face.
“Not a worry, once Snow sees we have his wife, he’ll pay anything to get her back. We’ll be able to start harvesting faster than ever.”
“You are from 11, what do you want with me?” You asked, ignoring the throbbing pain in your leg.
“Oh, smart little bitch you are.” The main ringleader smiled at you, a handful of teeth missing.
“You see, when your dear little husband signed his name on the last bill passed in the Capitol, he took away a third of our pay. For what? Some hospital?”
You remained silent. Coriolanus had signed onto a bill that would help women’s health, a step in the direction of the fertility research he wanted to fund.
“There’s little we can do with what we made before, Mrs. Snow.” The man sneered, making a face when he said your name. “Now? We’re already starving out there. We had to do something to make him notice.”
“But abducting his wife?!” The most reasonable out of the three asked, arm shooting out to point at you. “Couldn’t, I don’t know? Blow something up?”
The men started arguing with each other, taking their attention off of you.
You took their quarrel as a chance to limp towards the door, not getting far from the immense pain you felt radiate from your leg. It was more than just a cut, you were sure of it.
-----
Coriolanus looked out the window, sun peaking over the mountains. He still had no idea where you were, and with each passing hour he feared for your life more.
“Coryo!” Tigris ran over to her cousin, enveloping him in a hug. “I came as soon as I got off the train, what happened?”
“Rebels, they have Y/N.” Coriolanus rasped, and Tigris’ frown deepened as she saw how worked up her cousin was. His hair was a mess from tugging at it, bags under his bloodshot eyes, once-pristine shirt was now wrinkled. “I have Peacekeepers out in all the Districts, the Capitol is being combed through.”
“They’ll find her, Coryo. They will.” Tigris said, hugging her cousin again. “They’re checking each train car as they come into the station, they’ll find her.”
Coriolanus nodded, looking back out over the skyline of the Capitol, knowing you were out there somewhere.
-break-
You were on a train, you heard the squeaking of the brakes as it came to a stop. “Where are we going?” You asked, tending to your now sore wrist, a result of stumbling off balance when you tried once again to walk on your busted leg.
“They’re searching all the cars. They’re going to find us.”
The ringleader didn’t think this far ahead, not planning on shooting Gus at the bar when he snuck into the party. Not planning on alerting the Peacekeepers as soon as he did.
“Fuck, fuck, uh, we have to run.”
You heard the knocking on the door, before the train car’s rusty door was slid open by Peacekeepers, who immediately fired their guns at the three rebels.
“Alert President Snow, we found his wife.”
You started to cry, wanting nothing more than to see Coriolanus after the last few hours.
-break-
Coriolanus ran through the halls of the hospital, Tigris hot on his heels.
“Where is she?!” He yelled, eyes frantic.
“Last door on your left, Mr. President.” The commanding Peacekeeper saluted the young man, nodding at Tigris as she followed her cousin.
 You looked up from the long line of stitches on your leg when you heard quick footsteps growing nearer, before you saw an all-too-familiar head of blonde hair come into view.
“Coryo,” you sighed, struggling to sit up, face contorting in pain.
“My love, take it easy.” Coriolanus rushed over to your side, pulling you into his arms. “I’m here, it’s okay, you’re safe.”
You cried into your husband’s shoulder, dam finally breaking. “I- I was so s-scared, they had guns and- and I know that guns inherently aren’t that scary. But, Coryo, they- they were going to make you pay ransom!”
“I would’ve, I would’ve paid anything to get you back to me.” Coriolanus mumbled, forehead pressing against yours. “You’re the most important thing in my life.”
Tigris cleared her throat, and you looked behind Coriolanus to see the older Snow. “You’re back!”
“I’m back, but we’re going to catch up later. You need to rest, and you need to sleep.” She said, latter half of her statement aimed at her younger cousin.
You smiled at her, watching as she left the room and closed the door once more. “I’m sorry I ruined the party, Coryo.”
Coriolanus made a noise in the back of his throat. “You didn’t ruin it, gorgeous. Those rebels did, though I heard they were already taken care of.”
Nodding, you weren’t sure if you’d ever get the image of their dead bodies out of your head. “What are you going to do to their families?” You asked quietly, knowing vengeance was in store for them.
Shaking his head, Coriolanus sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over that, just focus on your health.”
-----
a/n: i love angst with a fluffy ending, it is my favorite. also i told you titles are my kryptonite i cannot do them right
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amaranthineghost · 5 months
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| I CANT HELP BUT PUSH YOU AWAY, MY DEAR. SELF SABOTAGE IS ALL I KNOW ( lando norris. ) |
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ꕥ pairing: lando x reader
ꕥ summary: feeling loved is foreign to her, she wants to self sabotage, but he won't let her.
ꕥ authors note: I enjoyed this too much, probably one of my favorites I've written, not requested. side note, this will probably be the last thing i write because i work like 20 hours this weekend (including friday) plus another 15 hours next week(not including sunday) so i'll be busy with work and school, but i'll try my best to get some writing done. I suspect i'll be working more because of christmas being close, but we'll see! thanks for all the support <3
if anyone has any christmas requests for any driver, PLEASE i would love to write it :3
ꕥ warnings: mentions of anxiety and overthinking and everything that comes with it, as well as struggles eating caused by anxiety, partially unrevised.
GIVING LOVE WAS EASY. receiving it felt too good to be true. giving love was easy when she'd spent her entire adolescence handing it out like a warm beverage on a cold day. it was always up for grabs, and people always wanted to take it for granted.
the idea of love was something she'd daydream about daily, craving it in a way she didn't believed she deserved. giving her love away was easy because she had lots to give. she'd trust easily, but not at the same time. she'd give her heart, but not her mind and that's how she'd end up hurting.
she longed to be loved. she swore every single love language was hers, but she'd realize how often she'd crave a single touch from the man she wanted. physical touch was always the one she longed for.
love was hard to believe. she was surrounded by it, but she never had it on the level others had.
she longed to be loved, but could she handle being loved? she knew she couldn't from past, failed relationships that failed because of her. because all it took was one relationship to break her trust for the rest to follow.
it was hard to trust that relationship to begin with, anxiety ate her away with every waking moment. she didn't believe she deserved to receive love in return of giving hers away. countless times her friends told her that he didn't deserve the love she gave him, it was best that she found out who he really was, but it destroyed her.
because now when any man showed any slight interest in her, she'd recede with heaps of anxiety.
growing up, from a kid to a teenager, she was never told she was pretty or attractive. she never had the attention from the right guys to make her feel it too. she knew she didn't need guys to tell her things to make her feel better, but she wanted them to. she'd watch her friends find solid relationships, or go between guys. she couldn't find one.
it solidified her belief that maybe she wasn't deserving. being loved was so foreign to her, she didn't know how it felt to be loved in the right way.
after all, all she knew was heartbreak and self-sabotage.
when she'd finally found her first relationship, she'd swallow the looming anxiety that bubbled in the pit of her stomach. because someone wanted to be with her. she'd give them all her heart, she'd give them her trust.
but a relationship laced with infidelity was bound to burn. and so it did. it set a fire greater than she could've put out by herself. because deep inside, it still burned in her heart. it ruined her. now she couldn't comprehend the idea of trusting someone on such a level as a relationship. being genuinely loved by someone other than herself, but even she couldn't. she didn't deserve it. because what others couldn't see in her, she couldn't see in herself.
every other 'relationship' that followed failed. they burned before they even got a chance to ignite into something else. something good, and or something bad.
because she'd never let them get close enough to have her trust. she wasn't the type to easily communicate her feelings towards another individual, pushing it into the deepest depths of her heart and mind. for her and her only.
growing up, her feelings were often stepped on or put out. she'd get called a cry baby, or no one would even care to listen. it's one of the reasons her self sabotages work so well.
she wouldn't communicate, a key component to the formula for a relationship. because what goods a relationship that you know nothing about. what goods a relationship that she's miserable in because she's too scared and untrusting to let someone through to her heart again.
it was a miracle she even managed to date him, let alone meet him in the first place. he was famous, she was her. one of the reasons she didn't think the relationship was going to go as far as it did.
because she'd constantly compare herself to his former lovers. pretty models with perfect features, famous like him.
but the attraction between the two was undeniable, even she had to admit. when they'd lock eyes for the first time, she felt that same anxiety. she always felt it when faced with anything that could be more than just a friendship. but he was different because not only was the feeling of anxiety present, the feeling of wanting more, longing.
though with every notification, she found herself praying it wasn't him, not because she didn't like him because dear god, he was probably the most attractive man she's ever seen. but because she didn't know how to talk to someone with the intention of being more than friends.
it was so vastly different than if she was texting to become friends. she couldn't imagine going from barely knowing each other, to hanging out, to dating.
because it meant she had to trust the person. she'd have to trust herself, and she didn't know if she could handle it.
she found herself struggling to reply within a message that didn't seem too dry, but not giving her burning heart away like charity. she was never good at it.
but when random texts throughout the day turned to late night conversations over the phone, to falling asleep on facetime calls, she knew she was in too deep.
especially when they'd hung out for the first time. they had a magnetic energy pulling one another together, like they couldn't and wouldn't be separated. neither of them wanted to.
but she didn't know what to tell him. she didn't know how to express her feelings when she's forced herself to keep quiet for as long as she can remember. she didn't know how to tell him she needed words of reassurance because her anxiety was her mortal enemy.
it wasn't like she couldn't trust him, she knew she could. but her mind made every possible way that he couldn't be trusted by her. it was always in her thoughts.
self sabotage seemed like the better alternative than spilling her heart and hurt to him, or overthinking every way that this would be a bad thing because there's no way he could be good to her.
when the days of anxiety got particularly worse after they'd started dating, he'd notice the times when she'd shy from his touch. he noticed her lips more irritated than usual from the consistent biting, or how short her nails became. how little she ate, and how much she'd pick at her food, pushing it around the plate till it got cold.
days like those, he did what he could with what he knew, which seemed like nothing. but he'd never fail to say something that he'd hoped would make her feel better.
and it did, at least a little.
as she laid on her back in his bed, her eyes stared into the dark of his room. her stomach rolled with the nauseous feeling that came with her anxiety, and biting her lip became a routine. her head turned to see the back of his. lando's curly hair, the chain around his neck, his bare shoulders and back. a sight to see, especially in the dark.
she'd spent countless nights awake long after he falls asleep, each time she'd carefully reach for his phone. she knew it was wrong, but she needed reassurance, and she didn't want to ask for it. but his phone was password protected, something she was too scared to even hint at.
so it became a routine. stay up well past when he'd fallen asleep, slipping his phone in her hand and simply trying a few passcodes she could think of that might work. to no avail, she'd place the phone right back, trying to make it seem like it never moved.
his phone had face id, she knew but it always seemed too risky, even for her. but she was desperate. she needed to know even when in her heart, she knew there wasn't a chance of infidelity. but her heart was charred and still in flames, so it wasn't enough.
she'd hold his phone in her hand, sliding across the cold phone case that'd matched hers. her heart beat in her chest as she slowly turned closer.
her body loomed over his, her arm snaking in front of his tired face, desperately trying for face id. she knew it'd be too dark, but this was the only time she'd actually try something. she saw the screen illuminate his face slightly, but not enough.
" 'm password's your birthday," his words slurred because of his tiredness, but nonetheless she heard him and she froze. he knew she'd been trying to get into his phone? for how long?
her mouth was dropped open and she slowly retreated the phone, though the rest of her body in shock. her feelings were conflicting. it never occurred to her that his password would be about her. because in her mind, she wasn't important enough for that.
with her breath held, sweaty palms and shaky hands, her fingers danced across the number pad, entering the date.
it worked, her eyes flickering back to him. the fact he was so willing was already enough to calm her because if it was any of her past situationships, she'd be sure they wouldn't be so forgiving if they found her with their phone. it was a deal breaker in the past.
but the way he just didn't care was nearly enough for her. at this point, she just wanted a peak, and that's all she did.
when she reassured her heart, she'd slid his phone back on his bedside table. she laid back down on her side, thoughts running through her mind at a million miles. she turned to him once again, slipping her arms around his midsection. she felt the warmth of his back spread across her chest, pressing her cheek against his skin and fluttering her eyes shut. for so long, she'd craved touch, being held by someone she was in love with.
she'd remember the last feeling she felt before slipping into a warm slumber, the sensation of his smooth and callused hand around her wrist, his thumb caressing her skin softly. she'd smirk against his back.
when morning came, she didn't know what to expect. most of the time, she wouldn't even make it through the night before she was kicked out, forced to go back home. because to them, it was much easier to force her out than to have a conversation with her. she didn't know which one she'd prefer though.
because what she didn't expect was waking up to the sun in her face, leaking through the curtains and spilling across the bed. she'd found her way to the other side of his bed, lying on her stomach with his arm across her back. her hands found their way to his wrist, feeling the multitude of bracelets between her fingers. she examined the difference between them, the fancy designers to handmade ones from his fans.
though mostly silver, there was an odd gold one that stood out, it caught her attention. the corners of her lips twitched into a smile as she separated it from the rest on his wrist. though it was mostly a simple thin chain, it had a bar with the designer name on it. she'd liked it. it was simple and pretty.
she heard the bed rustle next to her, she dropped the bracelet back down on his wrist, her head turning to watch him go from lying on his stomach to pressing his chest against her back. though his eyes still closed, he'd press his face into her neck tiredly. the hand that she'd played with grabbed hers while his other arm snaked around her shoulder and across her chest.
"you can have it, if you want," he muttered against her skin, sending chills down her spine and vibrations through her skin as she inhaled sharply. she watched him bring his hands close together, unclasping the simple bracelet.
"you don't have to, lando-" she stuttered, assuring him it was fine, but he was stubborn. he'd shush her, lifting his head to find her wrist as he'd place it around it.
" 'ts fine," he told her, "pretty girls should have pretty bracelets," he whispered against her shoulder, his lips lingering on her skin. he'd tuck the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. she felt his breath against her, shuddering.
"are you sure?" she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper when she'd look into his green eyes, watching how his pupils change size. she now laid facing him with her arm under her, supporting her weight.
she was scared it was some sort of bribe, that he'd ask her to do something in return, or that it'd be a thing to use for her to overlook something he'd done.
he nodded, studying every feature of her face. every mole, freckle and blemish, every lash on her eyelid, noticing how some crossed over the other.
"y'know we need to talk, yeah?" his tone was gentle, the rasp of his morning voice melted her brain. her heart paused, her eyes dancing across his face as he waited for an answer. his head tilted to the side.
she brought her hand to her face, biting at the flesh around her nails nervously. she felt anxiety creep over her body, tummy churning with unease. she just nodded back, unknowing of what to say.
" 'm not mad, love," he brought his hand to her face, the pads of his fingers running across her cheek, slipping into her hair, "jus' want to know what's goin' on."
the way his voice was so warm and inviting, with the slight rasp in his throat, causing a dip in his voice with every hushed word he spoke, it caused shivers across her body.
her lips parted, but no words left her throat. she pursed them together before thinking of what to say. she'd whisper back to him, "I jus' don't know how to tell you."
his head tilted even more, feeling his fingers scratch her scalp softly, "tell me what?"
"how I feel."
he felt a pang in his heart as he heard her words, the hurt laced into her voice as she watched his face closely, "how do you feel?"
she hesitated, looking at her hand nervously, finicking with the new bracelet on her wrist when he'd carefully push her chin up to meet his face.
she sighed, biting her cheek, "I feel," she started, "like I don't deserve to be loved."
she'd watch his eyes soften at her words, the expression on his face growing sadder the more he processed what she said.
he shook his head, "you do deserve it, darling, m'kay?" he leaned closer, his forehead against her, "I don't know how many times I'll need to say it for you, but I will because it's true."
his words sunk into her skin, her mind, her heart still set afire all these years later. she couldn't extinguish it by herself, but he could.
the fire that burned in her heart started to diminish with every word, with every sentence of affirmation from him. it told her she could spill her guts to him and he'd be there to simply listen. she needed that so desperately.
"I'll tell you anything you want to hear," he sat up more on the bed, his head stretching above hers, "but we need to work together on this." his hand pulled from her hair and lined across her jaw.
she nodded, sighing softly as she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, her tongue gliding across her cracked lips with a stinging pain.
"I jus' get really anxious, and then I start to overthink," she started so easily and without realizing, she couldn't stop.
she'd spill all her trust on him and he'd pick it up and lock it safely with him. because he'd die than betray her trust, after they'd worked so hard to make this work.
he'd see the fire ablaze in her heart and body and put it out in a matter of a few words when it took her years to even lessen the hurt.
he'd restore her charred heart, picking away at the blackness that plagued it. picking her mind apart from the bad and making her realize what she needed all along.
he put out her fire.
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candycandy00 · 5 months
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JJK Men as Pervy Mall Santas
JJK Men as Pervy Mall Santas! 
You’re at the mall with some friends right around Christmas time, and you can’t help noticing that the Santa seems to be really fucking hot, even with the fake beard. So your friends dare you to sit on his lap, pose for a photo, and tell him you’ve been very naughty this year. 
Smut. 18+. Reader is an adult! Dirty talk. Very rough sex (all consensual). Oral sex. Hair pulling. 
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Gojo: 
His eyes light up when you tell him you’ve been naughty. He subtly pulls you closer against his body and says, “Oh? Tell me all about it!”
“I’ve been a very bad girl,” you say. “I’m horny all the time, especially for hot guys in red suits.”
His gloved hands are moving all over you, in ways no one else would notice. He gives a big “Ho ho ho!” laugh and says, “I’m the kind of Santa who gives the best presents to naughty girls like you!”
Thirty minutes later he’s on break and railing you from behind in the closest supply room, staying in character. “You weren’t kidding about being naughty! This pussy is swallowing Santa’s dick so good!”
He leans forward, his fake beard brushing over the back of your neck. “Ready for Santa’s present?” he asks, right before shooting his load inside you.
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Geto: 
Acts completely calm and unfazed when you say you’ve been naughty, even as one of his hands snakes around under your sweater to grope your tits. 
“And what does this naughty girl want for Christmas?” he asks. 
You giggle and lean in close to his ear to whisper, “Your cock in my mouth.”
Still smiling calmly, he pinches your nipple and says, “I think Santa can make that happen.”
On his next break he meets you in the restroom, where you suck the life out of him, trying desperately to get a reaction out of him. He’s still maddeningly calm though, just smiling down at you, not even changing expressions when he cums down your throat.
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Toji:
“Naughty girls are my favorite kind,” he says as his hand moves up your thigh. He doesn’t seem to mind that anyone watching closely could see what he’s doing. His fingers slip under the crotch of your panties. 
You hold back a moan, your hands gripping his strong forearm. 
“Meet me in the parking garage in twenty minutes,” he says. “Then you can show me just how naughty you are.”
Later, he has you in the backseat of his car, folded in half, fucking you so hard you can barely think. “Ahhh… Santa, it’s too much!”
He laughs. “Oh? I thought a naughty girl like you could handle me.”
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Nanami: 
Gives you a stern look and says, “Naughty girls don’t deserve presents.”
Oh no, he’s not taking the bait! So you change tactics, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I can be a good girl for you, Santa. Let me prove it to you.”
His hand slides up your back and creeps into your hair, gripping it firmly. “If you can’t, then I’ll have to punish you for being naughty.”
A few minutes later he has you pressed into a dressing room in a nearby department store, taking his cock as he tightly pulls your hair back. You whimper as his grip tightens and his thrusts become rougher. “Don’t complain,” he says. “This is what you get for being naughty.”
“I’m sorry, Santa,” you mumble out, your body jerking with each thrust, “I’ll be good from now on!”
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Choso:
Blushes and averts his eyes when you tell him you’ve been naughty. But when you purposely squirm around in his lap, you can feel a growing bulge. 
“Oh my, Santa, are you naughty too?” you ask, rubbing your ass into his crotch. 
He glances at your face. “Maybe,” he mutters before looking away again, “but I can be nice too.”
You find out just how nice he can be when he’s got you spread open on the table in the break room, making a meal of your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, making you cry out in pleasure. 
He comes up for air, his face tinted pink and his lips slick with your juices. “Is this what you wanted for Christmas?”
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Sukuna: 
Is not amused by your flirting, but is amused by the idea of making a naughty girl cry on his cock. Will just get up and leave right in the middle of his shift, dragging you out with him. Doesn’t care who sees him leave or how many children he traumatizes with his bloodthirsty smile alone. 
Takes you into one of the empty offices and slams you against the wall, yanking up your skirt and fucking you on the spot. 
Loves your pitiful cries as you realize you might have bitten off more than you can chew with this Santa. He’s rough and he laughs when you devolve into a cumming, crying mess while he pounds into you. 
After he cums in every hole you have, he leaves you sprawled on the floor, covered in various fluids. As he walks out the door, he looks at you over his shoulder and says, “Merry Christmas, naughty girl!”
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