#or if anything's worded silly tell us too!!!!

[zeka-maki]

hii! may i request some scenario with phainon in which reader got jealous bc someone is hitting on him but phainon is so oblivious to it + reader thought they look good together? so, reader avoid + ignore phainon for like... days cuz they thought he deserve someone better. phai couldnt take it anymore cuz he misses reader so he confront them & then they made up. fluffy happy ending please! ><

sorry if its too specific but i just love scenarios like this >:3

tysm!!

ʚɞ I wouldn't know what to do without you ʚɞ

Pairings: Phainon x Reader

Summary: Jealousy isn't your forte, but when you saw someone else attempting to flirt with him, something snapped inside you. Days of your avoidance, Phainon is desperate. He doesn't know what he has done wrong, all he wants is you back to him.

Tags: Fluff, slight angst, Phainon is oblivious to flirting, Reader is avoidant at times, miscommunication, happy ending.

A/N: TYSM FOR THE REQ! Phainon is js a silly guy who happens to enter the torture city. Top 5 hottest things a man can do: yearn, yearn, yearn, plan dates and yearn. Ngl that's my next fic idea. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

In Okhema, people walk like the world is watching. Every movement is measured. Every glance calculated. And Phainon — Chrysos Heir, esteemed Flame-Chaser, child of radiance and prophecy — somehow floats through it all like he’s never known gravity.

He greets everyone. Offers compliments he probably doesn’t realize sound like confessions. And when someone leans in too close and asks him to lunch — eyes warm, voice low — he tilts his head and says, “Oh! I already promised [Name] I’d help them archive the library wing. But thank you!”

It’s innocent. But it burns.

You’d watched from the other end of the hall, sorting crystal samples for Aglaea's Garmentmakers. Watched them touch his arm. Watched him smile like the stars blinked for no one but them.

You weren’t jealous. You were… protecting him. That’s what you told yourself.

He could do better than someone like you — someone who flinches when praised and stumbles when near his warmth for too long. Someone who isn’t made of gold.

So you stopped sitting with him during morning readings. Stopped lingering after missions. Stopped walking home the long way through the bloom-lit streets of Okhema, where you always used to joke about retiring together in a palace made of moss.

Three days pass. Four. Five.

He leaves you notes — folded neatly, in his careful handwriting.

"Did I upset you?"

"Are you hurt?"

"Please tell me what I did."

You never answer.

Until he shows up in your lab at the end of the week, out of breath, dust on his gloves, eyes wide like he’s chased you across realms.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

The words come out desperate. No formality, no restraint — just Phainon, shaken, with his soul in his throat.

You straighten from your seat at the observation console, stunned. “I’m not,” you say weakly.

“You are,” he says. “You don’t even look at me anymore.”

His voice softens. “I miss you. I don’t care if you’re busy or tired or mad at me — just tell me what I did wrong. I’ll fix it. I’ll do anything. Just don’t… don’t disappear.”

You flinch. His words hit too close.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you say, barely audible. “I saw someone flirting with you, and you were smiling, and I thought— I thought maybe they were better for you. Someone who doesn’t mess up around you. Someone who shines like you do.”

Phainon stares. Like you’ve just told him the stars are fake.

“They were flirting with me?” he says, appalled.

You squint at him. “...Seriously?”

“I thought they wanted to ask about the antique birdsong scroll in the east vault.”

You groan. “That was a date invitation, Phainon.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Was it a good one?”

You almost laugh. Almost.

He steps forward. Carefully. Gently. Like you’re something breakable — not because you’re weak, but because you’re important.

“You think they shine like me?” he says. “You are my shine.”

You look away. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not saying it to be kind,” he replies, voice steady now. “I’m saying it because I mean it. Because when you left, everything felt dim. I don’t want polished. I want you.”

You finally meet his eyes — and his expression is open, luminous, unguarded in a way it only ever is with you. He takes your hand. Holds it like it’s the key to something ancient.

During the Parting-Hour, you're both slouched on the balcony of your home — feet dangling over the edge, sunlight brushing your skin like silk.

“Are you really that bad at flirting?” you ask.

“Am I supposed to be good at it?”

“You’re terrible at it.”

“Excellent,” he says. “That way I only accidentally fall in love with you.”

You smile. You don’t look away this time. He leans into your shoulder like he belongs there. Like he’s home.

[vxnillabxn]

I don't usually make requests so this may be silly or self indulgent but could you write something with all LIs (or at least Zayne heheh) where the reader works a customer service job and is exhausted and overwhelmed and tired of being yelled at by customers but doesn't say anything at first since most of the guys work "more difficult" (and/or more impressive) jobs? But then one day it just seems to all bubble up? Hurt/comfort type beat perhaps? Haha anyway this may be silly but I'm this close to quitting my retail job so... Need encouragement anyway I can get it LOL

𐙚˙⋆.˚ mainfive! x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ hurt/comfort! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚oh boy, do i know what this is like... my heart goes out to everyone who is currently working in customer service! you're doing an amazing job Ꮚ ܸ ◞ . ◟𓂂꒱ ♡ hope this is useful in some way, dear anonnie! stay strong.~ (and by the way, i added the situation first, and then each reaction, just in case you guys think i got my layout wrong 𐔌՞꜆.  ̫.꜀՞𐦯)

it became too much.

putting up a polite voice, greeting people all day, having to stay calm when someone screamed at you because of their own incompetence…

ranting about it with your colleagues wasn't enough, because the only viable solution you all came up with was to quit.

but that wasn't possible; not for you.

not until you knew you'd find a stable job as soon as you left this one.

you didn't tell your boyfriend at first, why would you?

he has a much more stressful job, yet he never complains. maybe you're too soft? maybe you're too sensitive?

whatever it is, it stops you from coming home and decompressing. you just smile, vaguely answer about your day, and move on.

but enough was enough, and one particular day, you had a grown man yelling at you because his card was declined.

it was awful, he was aggressive, you were insulted —almost to the point of either crying, or slamming something on his head.

your manager was called, your colleagues tried to calm you down…

and that day, when you came home and your boyfriend kissed your forehead tenderly…

you couldn't take it anymore.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

you pulled away immediately, as if his kiss burned.

you tried not to crumble, because you didn't want him to comfort you.

you thought it would be selfish on your end; having your extraordinary boyfriend leaving his own burdens just to deal with what you thought meant little in comparison.

but you just couldn't anymore, and after one word escaped your lips, it led to a bunch of raging sentences, expressions, complaints to follow.

he saw your expression, and his heart tightened in the spot.

he wanted to hold you close, but you were overwhelmed, pushing him away as you spat your feelings through your loud sobbing.

“...and i'm sick and tired! how can people be so dense?!”

you paced around, repeatedly pushing your hair back and letting your emotions overflow you.

he tried to reach out, but stopped himself.

you should let it all out, and he wanted to know exactly what was going through your head.

when you seemingly stopped to catch your breath, he approached slowly, gently lifting your chin up.

“baby… why haven't you told me?”

and everything goes down again.

you laugh in disbelief, stepping back and sniffling, trying your best to clean your teary face with your sleeves.

“why would i? my job is useless next to yours, caleb! i shouldn't even be complaining, you probably deal with more every da—!”

“that's enough.”

he stops you, not abruptly.

but not as gently as he wanted to.

you stare up at him, and while your eyes are wide and puffy from crying; his are serious and hurt.

“are you implying that your pain doesn't matter, because i have my own pain to deal with?”

“caleb—”

“no, baby. listen to your own words. that's what you're basically saying to me.”

you stay quiet, as he cups your cheeks tenderly.

“i'm not stupid, i've noticed your tensed-up shoulders, i've been listening to your vague responses for days, i've seen how you struggle to get up, knowing you'll have to work. i've been waiting, baby.”

he now takes your hands in his, brushing them with his thumbs.

“i've been waiting for you to finally rely on me. and now i find out… it's been me who's been holding you back?”

your breath hitches, and you finally realize how your words may have come across.

“caleb… i just… i didn't want to worry you with something as dumb as work issues.”

“worry me,” he quickly says, now kissing your knuckles after bringing your hands to his lips. “worry me, baby, tell me everything, tell me what bothers you, what pains you. i can take it, i want to take it all away from you; that's what i'm here for.”

but you know it is unfair.

you know you don't want to trouble him, when he never troubles you.

“lebbie, i… you never bother me with your problems either. i don't want to always let you carry my burdens.”

he kisses the tip of your nose, his breathing a bit shaky.

“as soon as i have you in my arms, all of my problems disappear. you always help me, pips. always. let me do that for you, let me help you, yeah?”

his sunset-like eyes shine intensely, almost desperately.

“please…”

it breaks him to see your distress, and it also breaks him to know you've been hiding it from him, thinking it wasn't worthy of his concern.

you're always worthy, you're the most important thing in his life; the reason he lives and breathes for.

seeing his pleading expression, you finally sigh out and hug him, letting yourself cry in his arms, as he listens to you —about the hell you've been living at work, about your frustration and ongoing stress.

you are trusting him, and he's quietly listening, caressing your back and hugging you tight.

you are also trusting that he'll take your burdens away, and make them all disappear while he holds you and whispers how good you've been doing, how you don't have to keep everything to yourself ever again.

and as he guides you to your shared bedroom, he'll remind you through soft and lingering touches that the only thing that matters to him is you.

your problems are his, too.

and your distress?

it's always his to take away.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

after parting ways, he noticed you were clenching your jaw and averting your gaze.

he playfully checks his breath, still unaware of your inner turmoil.

“what, do i have a fishy breath?”

you took a shaky deep breath before mumbling.

“i'm tired.”

he caressed your hair soon after, grinning softly.

“well, why don't we go to our room and—”

“no, i'm tired! tired of everything!”

you lashed out, throwing your bags down and walking off, tears starting to stream down your cheeks.

he was left stunned, and he approached cautiously… only for you to pull away, looking back at him in pure distress.

“my pearl, what's wrong? talk to me, please…”

but you stayed silent, debating whether it was worth it or not.

your body was shaking, your fists were clenched, you felt drained, and yet, rafayel was looking at you as always; as his precious love.

you couldn't take it, not right now.

“ugh, forget it! it's just a stupid thing… you have better things to focus on anyway.”

and with that, you turned around, ready to keep crying upstairs, or find a way to decompress without burdening him with such insignificant issues.

however, he blocked your path quickly, his gaze now serious.

no playfulness, no confusion.

just… pure contemplation and worry.

“better things? what better things?”

he tilted his head, and even when he still looked as always, you noticed his demeanor changing drastically.

“… rafayel, don't.”

he shook his head, approaching you quietly.

“no, my pearl. what better things?”

he was curious too, because as far as he knew, there was nothing better than focusing on you —and you only.

but upon being confronted with your own words, you couldn't hide it anymore.

“your art, your work, the deadlines, the exhibitions, everything. your work is so much more demanding than mine, and yet i… i…”

“you what?”

he leaned in and brushed the tears away from your cheeks with his thumbs.

“i feel like i can't handle anything anymore… it's draining me, even when it's just something as simple as dealing with customers.”

he tilted his head before smiling softly —not to mock you, but rather in disbelief.

“cutie, what are you saying?”

“raf, i'm serious…”

“and so am i. how long have you been dealing with this?”

“for a while…”

you answered quietly, making him sigh. he pulled you in for a hug, and his long fingers started to get rid of your uniform, piece by piece.

given his pace, and the soft kisses on your forehead, you knew he didn't have a different intention right now, because he guided you to the bathroom, ready to prepare a warm bath for you.

and as you finally felt the warm water against your skin, you allowed yourself to keep crying, feeling overwhelmed by the memories of today and the stress you've been dealing with.

thankfully for you, you had your boyfriend kneeling by your side, tracing gentle figures on your cheek and arms.

“you do such a demanding job, cutie. dealing with stressful people, having to constantly assume responsibilities that don't belong to you… why would you think otherwise?”

you looked up at him, and you knew this wasn't fair.

he waited until you were here to finally “confront” you, as he knew you'd be too relaxed to fight or argue back.

“and why would you compare our problems? my job is nothing next to yours, my pearl. you do so much every day, here, there… for me, for others. you're amazing.”

he played with your hair before standing up and removing his clothes to join you.

“i'm so proud of you, you know that, right? it's important for me that you know so…”

the bathtub became cramped, and the water splashed as he came for you, pulling you to his chest.

you decided to listen, rather than justifying your reasoning. after all, hearing his words made you realize you had the biggest support by your side, and you'd been depriving yourself of this much-needed relief and encouragement.

and he'd ensure to make up for all the nights he didn't notice your stress, —kiss by kiss— because how could he be so blind to your problems?

how could he let his adoration suffer alone?

never again.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

you did a great job masking your stress these past days.

but right now?

after feeling sylus' lips in a reassuring and simple gesture that usually made you smile?

it sent you into overdrive.

you pulled away from him, starting to shake from the rage, the stress, the desperation.

you inhaled sharply, avoiding his gaze as you tried to hide in the bathroom, in your shared bedroom, anywhere but in front of him.

because you felt so vulnerable under his gaze, and you didn't want to appear weak —not in front of your strong, capable boyfriend.

and especially not because of your “simple” job.

needless to say, he was alerted.

his arms immediately wrapped around you from behind, and even when you squirmed and tried to pull back, clearly overwhelmed, he stayed in place.

he knew better than to let you go.

and after a futile attempt to escape his grasp, —not because you didn't want him to hold you, but because you felt ridiculous— you finally started crying, shaking against his chest.

he didn't speak, he also didn't ask questions. he just stayed there, with his arms secured around your waist just so you didn't crumble nor break down further.

after a few minutes, you finally dared to speak.

you would have to, anyway.

there was no way sylus would let you go without telling him exactly what was going on, and it was better now than never.

“i… i can't deal with it anymore, i swear i've tried but… it's draining me, and i don't know what to do...”

again, no words on his end, as if he was waiting for the full picture before contemplating whether to advise you, or just comfort you.

“i'm tired, people can be so… so demanding and… the worst part is that i've been keeping it from you, because it is so, so stupid and lame next to the things you do, and...”

you sobbed, eyes closed, just feeling his breathing against your neck as he leaned down just a bit to cover your body with his.

and after minutes of silence, he finally speaks up.

“what happened today?”

you turned around to face his chest, still sniffling and trying to wipe away your tears.

you recounted every detail, every feeling, every reaction.

his gaze darkened upon listening to what you had to endure, and he knew this wasn't a one-time incident.

nonetheless, he was also a bit taken aback by your drastic take.

you've been suppressing everything… just because you thought your problems are nothing compared to his?

that's not acceptable, at all.

and it hurts him, because you thought you had to go through this alone…

like he wouldn't care.

even when you weren't looking at him, you started to feel the weight of his gaze; his own inner turmoil as his eyebrows furrowed very, very slightly.

yet still, his hands were tender when wiping away your tears, when cradling your head, when pulling you against his chest.

“if something drains you, we both deal with it,” he started. his voice was muffled against your head, soft, yet serious. “if someone drains you, i deal with them.”

your breath hitched at the implication, but you couldn't interrupt him.

“you are allowed to fall apart. not everything has to be justified nor compared. if it hurts, that is enough.”

he kissed the crown of your hair, while his hands caressed your back in a grounding motion.

“don't downplay your feelings. don't even think about it again.”

you looked up into his eyes for the first time, and you whined softly.

because all you could see was sheer adoration.

he could never see you as weak.

he could never dismiss your emotions, no matter how small or dumb you thought they were.

he was there, he always would, and you felt guilty for thinking he wouldn't care.

especially since he has proven countless times that he can and will take the pain away from you, never making it feel like it's a burden.

because it wasn't.

when he holds you a bit closer, when he kisses your lips with both gentleness and a bit of desperation for you to understand, you feel safe.

in his arms, the world feels a little less cruel.

because if it ever tried to break you again…

sylus would break it first.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

he noticed right away after pulling back that something wasn't right.

you didn't relax when he kissed you, as you usually did.

your shoulders were still tense, your eyes remained closed, but they were twitching.

you were biting your inner cheek, as if trying to hold yourself together, but barely managing to do so.

his eyebrows knitted together in worry, and he leaned in slightly, just to study your expression better…

and you opened your eyes.

it only took one question on his end for you to finally break.

“what is it, my starlight?”

before he could cup one of your cheeks, you shook your head and started crying, knees falling to the floor as the weight from today and all these other days became too much.

he was holding you within seconds, his arms embracing you tightly as you shook and sobbed.

he was concerned, searching for the right words to say, but he was also clueless about the situation and the mental state you were currently in.

when you clung to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, he whispered in your ear with that soft voice of his, reminding you of his presence.

“i'm here, i got you… i got you, you're safe now.”

he didn't need to say more, because you were starting to calm down, even when your breathing was still ragged, and you were hiccuping after crying so intensely.

he kissed your temple, and you looked into his eyes, only to start feeling guilty.

he was here, kneeling in front of you, clearly concerned and ready to do whatever it takes to see you happy again…

and all because of your job, which does not compare to his at all.

how come he, who puts himself in danger and has lots of things on his plate, was comforting you?

he noticed your silence, and he caressed your hair. he then nodded lightly, as if encouraging you to speak your mind.

“work was… work was awful today. and yesterday, and the day before…” you said, feeling both embarrassed and weak, on top of the exhaustion and overwhelm you've been dealing with. “and i am tired of feeling this helpless, this… weak. it shouldn't be this hard, it's supposed to be an easy job, and even so, i can't even deal with these stupid feelings—!”

he cut you off softly, his brows now furrowed.

“stupid feelings?”

his eyes narrowed too, but not out of anger.

out of hurt for you.

“you're not weak; you're exhausted, drained. that's not the same.”

he shook his head, looking down briefly.

“you talk to people all day, most of whom treat you like trash. yet you always go back to work and do your best. every day, without fail.”

his eyes locked back on yours, and you saw the intensity in them.

“i hate that you went through all of this by yourself, thinking i wouldn't get it.”

“xav, that's not—”

you quickly tried to explain, but he interrupted again.

“that's exactly it, starlight. you're not quitting yet, i get that. but stop pretending this is normal anymore. come to me, scream, cry, rant… anything. just don't bottle it up anymore, as if i wasn't here to hear you out.”

you were silent, and he noticed he might have come across as stern, or even mad.

he once again softened his tone, and his hands pulled you to his lap as he sat on the floor.

“don't call your feelings stupid ever again… don't insult that precious heart of yours, not in front of me, at least.”

and your hands fisted his shirt, because all you wanted to do right now was cry once again.

he was totally right. all of these days of punishing yourself unconsciously by not seeking the comfort and support you most definitely needed, were unnecessary.

he noticed your watery eyes, and he kissed your temple, trailing down until his lips met your tear-stained cheeks.

“i can't do this alone anymore…”

you confessed, letting him in, letting him take care of something that wasn't as insignificant as you initially thought.

“you don't have to. you'll never have to again.”

and it was only now that you allowed yourself to believe it, with him holding you tight while grounding your once messy and unstable thoughts with real, heartfelt whispers of reassurance.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

his brows furrowed slightly when he noticed the way your body trembled.

instead of smiling and kissing him back, you swiftly pulled away, avoiding his gaze and his presence.

he knew these symptoms all too well; and he already knew something was wrong and about to get even worse if he didn't handle things cautiously.

“my love.”

he called out, his voice warm and inviting.

“not right now, zayne.”

yours was a stark contrast; sharp and low.

he stayed quiet, not wanting to provoke you further.

however, he could see the way you were trying to hold everything in, the way you still wanted to compose yourself, even in the safe environment that your shared home represented.

“do you need some space?”

as always, he was understanding; never intruding, never forcing you to say what you didn't feel ready to.

it should feel good to have a boyfriend like him.

you should've just said yes and taken a breather…

but instead, you felt bad, because now he was going to worry about you, and how could you hide anything from the only person who truly loves you and cares about every single aspect of your life?

he's too good for you.

tears started to fall down as you looked up at him, and those tears were soon accompanied by sobs.

sobs that turned into ugly, desperate cries and incoherent words about how stressed you are, how bad you feel, how draining everything feels.

for a minute, it was just you breaking down in front of him, as he only looked, trying to put the pieces together and let you spit out all the negativity that's been consuming you.

then, he outstretched his arms, waiting for you to hug him when you felt ready.

and it was instant, as if you were pulled in by a magnetic field.

you clung to him, digging your fingernails into his lab coat while hiding your crying face on his chest.

his arms were around you immediately, and he nuzzled your head with his cheek, closing his eyes as he heard you, felt you, tried to feel the pain for you.

you kept rambling, even when your sentences were a mess, or when you were interrupted by your own ragged breathing.

the fact that he was still in his pristine uniform not only reminded you of his demanding job, but it also reminded you that he just came from a long shift.

and instead of you being the one helping him decompress, he was the one holding you instead.

this only made you sob louder.

zayne gently pulled you away to see your face, and his long, slender fingers caressed your cheeks as if you were made out of porcelain.

you quieted down a little, staring into his loving eyes.

“breathe in, love.”

and you did, as he did it with you.

“out…”

you exhaled shakily, and he kissed your forehead afterward.

“good. do you feel like telling what happened today, or would you rather take some time?”

you shook your head and nuzzled his palm that still rested against your cheek. you took a deep breath once again, and told him what happened.

his expression was unreadable, and you soon began downplaying your distress.

“i'm sorry, zaynie… i know how busy you are; you're probably exhausted, yet here i am, just… complaining about something so stupid.”

he hummed in response, before nudging his nose with yours.

you shut your mouth, noticing how his expression once again changed.

he was hurting.

“don't.”

he whispered against your lips.

“please, don't diminish your feelings like that.”

and soon enough, you started hurting too.

if your heart was able to break when seeing him getting hurt… what made you think his heart wouldn't break just as much when seeing you in so much pain?

what made you think you had to bottle everything up, when the man who lived to see you do well was silently begging for you to trust him with your concerns?

he traced your cheeks with the cold tip of his nose, and left gentle, reverent kisses against your tear-stained skin.

“i am here for you. whatever it is you decide to do from this day on, i will and shall be by your side.”

he now kisses your lips, very, very slowly, his breath slightly shaky, but his left hand steady on your waist.

“when things get overly stressful, come home.”

and you couldn't help but smile, because you knew what he meant.

not to come back to your house, but to come to him; your safe place.

“from now on, promise me you will come to me, my love.”

his lips curled up too upon seeing your weak smile, and when he felt your nose nuzzling his, the room felt lighter.

“i promise.”

and when he kissed your lips again, you finally relaxed, closing your eyes and pulling him closer.

you were finally home.

[literatooru]

╭───────── .𐔌՞. .՞𐦯.. ─╮

ιƒ уσυ'яє gσιηg тσ нιт ιт, нιт ιт ´тιℓ ιт вяєαкѕ

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ραιяιηg: oikawa tōru x f!reader

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ωαяηιηgѕ⟢ ηѕƒω (𝟏𝟖✙) м∂ηι⟢ unprotected sex,

blowjob, cunnilingus, very slight overstim.

╰─ ..𐔌՞. .՞𐦯. ─────────╯

⊹ ࣪ ˖⟢✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

This has been Tōru’s most stressful week in his entire life. He’s been messing everything up—practice sucks, he hasn’t been able to spend as much time with you as he’d like, and he’s been having trouble sleeping. Not to be dramatic, but the stress is killing him, and he absolutely hates it. It really, truly sucks.

“Ah, shit,” he groans, rubbing his face with his hands. He’s sitting on the couch, alone, and wanting more than anything to go to bed, right next to you.

“Tōru?” you ask.

Despite your quiet tone, Oikawa jolts in his place when he hears your voice, and he’s quick to shoot you an apologetic smile. You can see the bags under his eyes and the tension in his entire body due to stress, but you don’t bring it up; you’ve learned that the best way to deal with stress is to take your mind off it, not bring attention to it. With that purpose in mind, you pad across the room until you’re standing in front of him.

“‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you up,” he mumbles, holding your hips to pull you toward him. You place your knees on either side of him and sit on his lap, your hands immediately busying themselves by massaging his shoulders gently.

“I wasn’t asleep,” you say. After a short pause, you hold his cheeks and squish them with the palms of your hands. “I was waiting for you to come back.”

“Sorry,” he replies almost unintelligibly. He places his hands atop of yours and lowers them between your bodies. “It’s late though. You should be sleeping.”

You pout a little at his words, and Oikawa can’t really decide whether he wants to eat you up or eat you out. Probably both. Definitely both.

Instead of answering, you lean forward and place a soft kiss on his lips. He hums softly, and buries his hand in your hair when you try to pull back, making you chuckle against his lips. He only breaks the kiss when it’s absolutely necessary for him to breathe.

“It’s your day off tomorrow.” Oikawa knows you have more to say when you avert your gaze, and he has a suspicion of where this going. He thinks it’s the most adorable thing ever that you still get shy around him. He already knows what you’re thinking, and his gut twists a little with the thought of you alone. “I was hoping that we could… I don’t know, spend some time together.” You shrug lightly to downplay it, hoping that it’s not too noticeable how much you want him.

It’s been weeks since he’s even touched you, too tired to do anything. As soon as he gets home, he showers, throws himself into bed, and then it’s almost as though he’s dead. But tomorrow is his day off, and the simple thought of being inside you has him riled up in a flash. It’s astounding what the human brain can do, and, after a couple seconds of just remembering how tight and warm you always are around him, you feel him hardening underneath you.

“Yeah?” he says, a sudden, cheeky grin taking over his face. He allows his hands to roam your upper thighs freely, applying light pressure on certain spots. “You had plans for us?”

“You could say so… I thought, maybe—” you break off when he brushes his fingers between your legs. The touch is feather light, barely even there, but it's been so long that the small gesture makes your breath hitch.

You squirm on top of him, forgetting what you were about to say—because when Oikawa Tōru’s touching you; there’s no room for silly thoughts. Gauging your reaction, he runs his thumb along your clothed folds, and his dick throbs in his sweatpants when you let out the smallest of whimpers against his lips. He can already feel how wet you’re getting for him, even though he’s barely even touched you; and it’s almost as if that flips a switch in him.

“Why don’t you tell me what your plans are, cutie?” he says, voice tinged with amusement. His smile is teasing as he runs the pad of his thumb over you once again when you’re about to speak, and your breath catches for a second time. “Hmm… what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

You part your lips open to speak once more, and at the same time, Oikawa’s hands run all the way up your thighs and around your back to knead your the soft flesh of your ass and grind you against him, and a loud, shaky moan escapes you instead. Your hands shoot up to grip his shoulders, fingers clenching around the soft fabric of his shirt as you let him guide your hips, with the occasional light thrust up from him. His lips find yours once again, and he moans against your mouth, the kiss turning messier and hungrier by the second. Oikawa curses under his breath after an especially good roll of your hips, your arousal so abundant that it leaves a dark, wet patch on his sweatpants, and the sight of it turns him on even more.

“Someone’s happy to see me, huh?” He chuckles softly against your lips, tracing a path of sloppy kisses along your jawline until he reaches the point where your neck connects with it, and he sucks hard on your skin, ripping a harsh gasp out of you. “Look at this pretty little girl, drooling all over me,” he says, thumb still rubbing your clit over your shorts, eyes following the motion of his finger.

“Tōru,” you sigh, arms wrapping around his neck and one of your hands trailing up to grab a fist of his silky brown locks, tugging on them. “I’ve missed you,” you whine, and he can tell by the desperate way you’re moving on top of him that you really did. “I kept thinking about you all the time and— oh!”

He slips his thumb under the elastic of your shorts, and his grin broadens when his thumb makes contact with your bare skin. He lets out a happy hum.

“Is that so? What were you thinking about, exactly?” he asks, pushing all of his fingers past the elastic. He places a soft kiss on the dark mark on your neck, presses his tongue flat against the spot, and chuckles again your skin. “Did you think about me touching you? Right here?” Oikawa uses his fingers to rub on your bundle of nerves, delivering a light, teasing pinch on it that makes you jolt a little, which only makes you press yourself harder against him. He groans, eyes darkening. “Did you picture my fingers inside you?” He lifts you up and shifts your hips a little to put two of his long digits inside you in one single push, his fingers sliding in with so much ease that he has to bite his lip to refrain from moaning. “Just like this?” Your mouth falls open when he curls his fingers deep inside you, brows scrunching up as you let out a wanton whine that makes his cock twitch a little. “Did you cum?” His voice is low and husky, completely tinged by lust as he pumps his fingers in and out at a pace that has you curling your toes. You barely manage to give a feeble nod, clawing at his shoulders as you buck your hips against his hand. “How many times?”

“S-so… so many, fuck!” you cry out, lolling your head back. “But it’s not enough.”

“No? You want my cock?” You nod again. “Use your words, pretty.”

“Yes— please. I need you Tōru.”

“Now, that’s a good girl.” He grabs a bunch of your hair and pulls you closer to his face. Right before kissing you, he murmurs, “I’m going to fuck every last ounce of cum out of you, sweetheart.” And then his lips are on your once again. It’s a little bit of a struggle to get your shorts out of the way because he really doesn’t want to stop kissing you, but he manages eventually. There you are, and you swear his eyes twinkle when he sees his fingers being swallowed by your pussy, your arousal making his digits glisten as it slides down them, effectively coating them in your juices. “Look at you, making all this mess for me.”

“You’ve been away for so long, what did you expect?” you hiss, groaning desperately when he pulls his fingers out just when you were about to have your first orgasm of the night. “Tōru! I thought you said you’d…”

“I will,” he assures you with a naughty grin. “That desperate for me, huh?”

“Just shut up and fuck me already,” you reply, fumbling to lower his pants. He snorts when you let out a frustrated huff, glaring at him afterwards and clenching your fingers around his erect cock.

“F-fuck…” he whines, throwing his head back. “Don’t—”

“Help me get you out of these,” you say, your brow furrowed. “Tōru I swear if you don’t stop teasing I’ll just leave you here, see what you do about this little problem right here.” You give a couple pats to his crotch, and he hisses through gritted teeth, hips bucking up on instinct.

Oikawa cocks one of his perfect eyebrows as he looks at you. “Little, you say?” He hooks his thumbs on the elastic of his sweatpants, slides them down his legs (with a little help from you, which you take as your chance to get a little handsy with him), and grins at you. “Want me to prove you wrong?”

“I’d love that actually,” you say, suddenly not so snarky anymore. 

There he is in his full erect glory, and the sight alone has drool pooling on your tongue. You gulp audibly, at which he chortles lightly, and you take a deep, shaky breath, reaching out to run the pad of your fingers along his shaft. Oikawa bites on his lip, watching you silently and barely able to keep it together when you press your thumb against his slit, running it along it to collect the pre-cum sliding down his cockhead. You draw a slow circle with your finger, taking your thumb to your mouth afterwards and making a show of sucking it clean. His eyes are glued to your every move, and his lips part open to let out a soft breath as he watches you, gulping loudly. He traces your mouth with the tips of his fingers, pushing them past your lips. His breath quickens when you swirl your tongue around them to lick them clean. “I couldn’t stop thinking about those pretty lips of yours wrapped around me…”

Oikawa cups your chin with his finger and brings your face close to his, nipping on your lower lip and shoving his tongue in, savoring the light taste of you on your own tongue. You hold his gaze, a devilish twinkle in your eyes, and he licks his lips slowly, helping you get down on your knees.

“Wanna help me out, pretty girl?” Instead of saying anything, you lean down to take the tip of his cock into your mouth, pressing your tongue against his slit, then swirling it around the whole head. “O-oh God,” he sighs, hand moving up to bury his fingers in your hair. He bunches it up to have a firm grip on you, holding you in place and slightly guiding the movements of your head. Oikawa bucks his hips against you and you gag a little when you feel him touching the back of your throat, the tip of your nose brushing his pelvic bone. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean—” Tears sting at the corners of your eyes when you force yourself to take as much of him as you can, swallowing to tighten your throat around him. “What the f-fuck…” he stammers. He’s missed you so much and it feels so good that he can’t hold still, no matter how hard he tries.

You don’t mind, enjoying the sweet, soft noises he lets out. Because yes, Oikawa Tōru has the prettiest moans you’ve ever heard—a little bit breathy and whiney at times, they make you squeeze your thighs together in search for the tiniest bit of relief. 

You end up using your own fingers instead, using your free hand to fondle his balls, and a shiver runs up his body and he squirms beneath you. He’s babbling incoherently, completely lost in the feeling of your wet, warm mouth around him, and looking at you is what finally drives him over the edge. His jaw drops, and one final buck of his hips and you feel his load shooting to the back of your throat. You pull back, doing your best to swallow it all as you look up at him through your lashes. His chest heaves with each heavy breath he lets out, and it takes him a moment to come back down from his high. Oikawa looks at you, swipes the corner of your lips to catch the little bit of cum dribbling down and pushes it past your lips.

“You shouldn’t waste it,” he says with a cheeky grin. 

After you lick your lips, he leans down to catch your lips in a slow kiss, his hand traveling down your body until it reaches between your legs. You moan softly against his mouth as he starts circling your clit once more, the kiss growing heated as his fingers speed up, and soon you’re crying out his name as he smiles against your lips. He’s really missed the sounds of your pretty cries when he makes you cum.

“God…” you sigh with a breathy laugh.

“Come on, beautiful. Let me taste you,” he says. You barely manage to register his words, head still sort of in the clouds after your orgasm. Oikawa picks you up, makes you lie down on the couch, and trails a path of wet, messy kisses down your body until his face is between your legs. He blows softly on your messy folds, sliding his fingers between them and watching you squirm under his touch, your pussy clenching around nothing. “Hm, so pretty,” he says, delivering a gentle nip to your hip.

And Oikawa gets to work. He has you arching your back and screaming out in pleasure in a matter of seconds, nails scratching his scalp as you tug on his hair, his fingers pumping in and out of you, curling, scissoring. He laps at your puffy folds and suckles on your clit, groaning when you squeeze his head between your trembling legs as your second orgasm hits you—but he doesn’t stop there.

He gathers every drop of you on his tongue, savoring it with a blissful look on his face and letting out happy hums every now and then. He ruts his hips against the couch in search for some friction, whining against you when you give an especially hard tug on his brown locks, and he unwillingly pulls away from you to look up. There you are, panting heavily with a fucked out expression on your face, and his cock throbs at the sight.

“Tōru… s’too much,” you mumble, struggling a little to speak after cumming so hard.

He shoots you a grin, wiping his glistening chin and sucking on his fingers, crawling up until his lips are right against yours.

“If you’re going to hit it…” he begins in a low voice, taking his cock in his hand and aligning himself with your entrance. You instantly spread your legs apart with a soft gasp. “Hit it til in breaks.” And he fully sheathes himself inside you.

You both moan loudly in unison, your back arching once more, chest colliding against his as he buries his face in the crook of your neck with his fingers digging in the soft flesh of your thigh, his hips moving rhythmically against yours, each thrust pulling a wanton whine from him that he tries to hide by muffling it against your skin.

“I missed you,” you repeat with a loud cry, drawing a set of thin, red lines on his back when your nails scratch their way down. “Faster… please…”

And who is he to tell you no? A series of soft curses escape his lips as he picks up the pace, leaving you breathless with each thrust.

“Ah, fuck… missed you too, baby,” he mumbles against your shoulder, pulling you so close to him it’s almost as though he wants to fuse himself with you. “Missed my pretty girl. So tight and warm for me. God, you feel so fucking good.”

Your name is on his breath like a prayer; he goes fast, hard and deep, the resounding wet slapping of skin against skin echoes in the silence of the room, and he is in awe when he looks at you—you always look so pretty when he’s ball’s deep inside you. He showers your chest with featherlight kisses, obsessed with the way your breasts jiggle each time he plunges into you, and Oikawa whines against your glistening skin when you clamp down around him so hard that his hips stutter for a second. Your scent invades all of his senses, and his mind grows cloudy because all he can see, hear, taste, and feel is you.

“Tōru, I’m so close… so close.”

“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes out, pulling back a little to watch the moment it happens as to not miss a single second. After a couple more thrusts your jaw drops with a loud cry of his name, your legs tightening around him and keeping him still as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, struggling to draw in a full breath. “So, so pretty,” he says, resuming his movements. You give the occasional buck of your hips to ride out your orgasm.

He can’t take much more after that. Oikawa dissolves into pleasure, a scalding sensation pooling low in his abdomen as mouth falls open, and he presses it against your shoulder to stifle his obscene whines, thick ropes of warm cum shooting deep inside you as he lazily rolls his hips until your pussy milks him dry.

After, Oikawa plops on top of you with a breathy laugh, peppering your neck with small kisses until you’re laughing as you shy away from him. He hugs you against his chest with a smile, caressing your face with gentle fingers, the look in his eyes one of pure adoration.

“I love you, Tōru,” you say, nuzzling your face against his chest.

His grin broadens as he delivers a soft kiss on your shoulder, taking a deep breath and letting out a happy sigh.

“I love you.” After a second in which he looks at the ceiling, pondering, he looks down at you and purses his lips. “‘M telling coach I need a couple more days off.” You snort against his damp skin, shaking your head a little. “And we’re going shopping tomorrow. Because I’m taking you,” he boops your nose, “to dinner.”

[erodasfishtacos]

Fuckin' Hell, Honey |FWB| part 1

Prompt: the aftermath of the pre-boating conversation

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: angst, toxic relationships, YN’s bf is a douche, cheating (YN on OC) (Harry on OC).

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LAST PART

-

YN thinks of every excuse not to get on that boat.

Every excuse she can possibly come up with - that she might be coming down with something, that she didn’t sleep well the night before, that she’s sunburnt, that she forgot to bring her sunglasses and the glare off the water will give her a headache. 

She even goes so far as to fake search through her bag like she might have forgotten something vital — sunscreen, a towel, anything that might justify staying behind to not hold them up on departing.

But it’s no use because Ben is already calling her over, already slinging one of the coolers into his arms and joking with the others, completely oblivious to the way her stomach is tying itself into literal knots. 

She had never fought with Harry before. 

Never even had a tense conversation, never crossed lines or clashed opinions even about silly things that didn't actually matter. 

And now the memory of his voice — sharp, cutting, angry plays on loop in her head.

He had always been the easy one, the safe one, the sweet, quietly teasing presence who didn’t ask too much of her, didn’t demand anything she wasn’t ready to give.

But last night…it cracked something open and he woke up demanding answers, resolution.

Now she knows why she’s been with Ben for so long. 

Ben doesn’t ask questions.

He doesn’t push, doesn’t see past what she offers, and takes everything at face value. 

Harry looked at her like he saw everything. 

Every little defense mechanism she used, every quiet lie she’s telling for self-preservation, every self-deprecating joke she used to deflect from uncomfortable conversation. 

Harry had seen right through it all and asked for the truth anyway.

And she couldn’t handle it, not with this situation at least.

She boards the boat, legs unwilling, masking on a neutral expression as she makes her way to the back corner bench. 

She tucks her feet beneath her and folds her arms tightly across her stomach like she's cold on a ninety degree plus day.

Ben is oblivious. 

He’s already cracked his second beer before they even hit open water. 

He’s throwing his head back and laughing with the others, telling stupid stories she’s heard ten times over. 

He’s completely unaware of how off she is or how Harry is sitting at the wheel, lips pressed into a thin line, wearing an expression she’s never seen on him before this all occurred.

And once she notices it, the way Harry’s knuckles are gripping the wheel, the way his shoulders are tense, the subtle twitch in his jaw — she can’t stop noticing.

He doesn’t say a word.

She can see now what he meant about how much their friends hated Ben. 

Georgia flat-out ignores him when he speaks. 

Niall gives a hollow chuckle and doesn’t even bother to respond most of the time. 

Everyone else glances around like it’s a game of chicken — who’s going to acknowledge Ben first, or if they can get away with pretending he didn’t speak at all.

Ben places his hand on her thigh again. 

She shifts quickly, brushing it off with a muttered, “You’re all clammy,” and adds, “I’m already overheating, please stop,” without much conviction. 

Her tone isn’t biting, just tired. 

Distant.

Ben doesn’t notice that either - he only laughs and moves on but it’s when he takes his ice-cold beer and shoves it right against her stomach — that she jumps, heart pounding in her chest.

Everyone laughs.

Everyone but YN.

And Harry, who she watches from the corner of her eye, watches the way his grip tightens again on the wheel, how his lips flatten further, how he doesn’t say anything but the tension in his body is unmistakable. 

She expects him to say something, to call Ben out or bark something sharp at the group — but he doesn’t.

She shouldn't be upset by that because he doesn't owe her anything.

After a while, he kills the engine and lets the boat drift. 

Most of the group peels off to swim or sunbathe on the deck, splashing and shrieking, music playing from the speaker.

Harry stays in the captain’s chair - doesn't move or speak and YN stays seated too. 

She knows she should go in, should cool off, should shake the edge off, but her limbs feel heavy.

People are constantly climbing on and off, so there’s no space for a quiet conversation — not that YN could handle it anyways without cracking.

Eventually, Georgia climbs up from the water, dripping and flushed, humming as she digs through the almost empty cooler. 

Her balance wavers slightly with the buzz in her system.

She glances up at YN, takes in her hunched posture, her pinched expression, the way she hasn’t looked up from the floor of the boat in nearly fifteen minutes.

“Are you feeling okay?” She asks, brow furrowing in confusion, the question directed at her friend but pitched loud enough for Harry to hear too.

Harry doesn’t even flinch.

He just keeps scrolling on his phone with slow, disinterested flicks of his thumb, head turned away from both of them like he’s not even present.

And YN—she wants to disappear entirely.

Because even in his silence, Harry’s anger is a presence in the air, thick and pressing and she knows she put it there.

YN sees out of the corner of her peripheral, just barely, how Harry’s eyes snap up from the draw of his screen the second he hears Georgia’s voice directed her way. 

His gaze is immediate, sharp—like he’s been waiting for something to finally happen.

“Just a bit seasick,” YN lies quickly, her voice pitched high.

There’s guilt in it, nestled right in her stomach but it doesn’t matter—nothing would have her being honest about what’s really wrong. 

“Oh, that’s weird, isn’t it?” Georgia asks, brows pinching further as she cracks the cap off the bottle of water she grabbed from the cooler. 

Her words are a little slurred from the high alcohol content IPA she'd been nursing earlier, but her instincts are intact, “You’ve never gotten it before.”

“Maybe it’s something I ate,” YN offers with a soft shrug, trying to look casual, brushing off the comment with a flick of her fingers. 

Her expression doesn’t match her tone, and she knows Georgia would see right through it if she was sober, “Go enjoy, I’m fine—really.”

Georgia lingers for a beat, hesitating like she might press further, but ultimately just nods, muttering a half-hearted, “Alright,” before pushing off the boat and into the water again. 

He lets out a scoff under his breath, quiet and barely audible over the waves and low thrum of the boat’s speaker. 

A shake of his head follows, slow and deliberate. 

YN sees it even though she pretends not to, and god—it pisses her off.

It’s so fucking obvious he’s trying to get a rise out of her and it’s one-hundred percent working.

Georgia doesn’t catch any of it before she’s swimming off again, and now it’s just the two of them - trapped on the boat, with nowhere to escape, with his eyes burning into her like scorching flames.

He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t have to - his silence is louder than any comment he could have made.

YN’s throat tightens, she wants to scream, she wants to cry. 

She wants to dissolve into the bench beneath her and not exist in this moment because the worst part of all of this isn’t the tension or the shame or even her own anxiety.

It’s that despite everything, despite how sick and out of place she feels, she wants his comfort more than anything else.

She wants him.

The words almost slip past her lips—an apology, something, anything that might fix it but she’s too frozen, too scared, too exposed.

She’s still trying to convince herself that he doesn’t matter like that - that he was just a friend, just a mistake.

Before she can speak, Niall clambers back onto the boat, louder than necessary, and opens the cooler dramatically. 

“There’s only one beer left,” He announces to no one in particular, “Back to the house we go—resupply as soon as possible!”

The group begins to climb back onboard, everyone buzzed, damp with lake water. 

Ben, as if on cue, plops down next to her with a heavy wet thud, his skin slick and damp from swimming, his breath already reeking of his sixth beer.

“Ben,” YN sighs, trying to shift away, her thighs sticking uncomfortably to the bench, “You’re soaking my shorts.”

Ben only grins. 

He turns his head, waggles his eyebrows, his tone exaggerated and obnoxious, “Hear that, guys? I’m making YN soaked.”

The humiliation burns immediately, crawling up the back of her neck as laughter bounces around the boat, not intentionally cruel but careless, and it makes her feel even smaller. 

Ben’s drunk enough that he doesn’t notice her shrinking, or maybe he does and doesn’t care. 

“Ben,” She warns, her tone sharper, sterner this time but he’s laughing—cackling, actually.

“No, baby,” He chuckles, loud and slurred, “If I’m soaking them, might as well get them off of ya.”

YN stiffens when his hand reaches for the waistband of her cotton shorts, fumbling without grace. 

“Ben, stop! I’m not wearing—” She begins, frantic because she hadn’t bothered to put on bikini bottoms because she knew she wasn’t getting in the water, so she risks being exposed in a plain blue thong than something more modest or appropriate.

“Oh? Nothing underneath?” He cuts in with a leering smile. 

No one’s really paying attention. 

Everyone is just drunk enough not to see it for what it is but Harry does.

His voice slices through the noise like a knife—clear, cold, and edged with fury. 

“Mate,” He bites, loud enough for every single person onboard to hear, cutting through the bass of the speakers, “You seem to have a really fuckin’ hard time understanding what the word no means.”

The air stills.

“You better learn it quick, or I’m going to knock you on your goddamn ass,” Harry tells him harshly, eyes unwavering as they stare her boyfriend down.

It’s silent. 

Ben freezes - he always talked a big game, always laughed the loudest, always acted like he was the king of every party but he shrinks in his seat, stammers for a response he doesn’t have. 

His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, like a fish but he says nothing.

Like a slow unwinding warmth—comes something else.

New emotions because Harry—he stood up for her.

Lauren’s eyes flick between Harry, YN, and Ben—back and forth like she’s trying to put together a puzzle with missing pieces. 

Her brows twitch downward as her gaze locks on Harry again, this time with a spark of something territorial, like she’s just realized there might be competition she hadn’t anticipated but has nothing to prove it.

YN notices it, of course she does, but she’s too busy trying to focus on the tightening in her chest to care.

Everyone is twitchy, full of restless discomfort, waiting to see how Ben is going to handle being called out by Harry.

Ben scoffs, looking around like he can’t believe what’s happening, like he’s somehow the victim here. 

But YN sees it—how everyone on the boat suddenly won’t meet his eyes, how they shift and fidget and pretend to be more interested in the water or the cooler or literally anything else. 

They’ve all had enough of him too, even if none of them say it aloud.

Ben mutters, loud enough to be heard but just quiet enough to avoid further confrontation, “All of you are so fuckin’ soft. Can’t take a joke.”

Harry’s jaw ticks, hand tightening on the throttle of the boat before turning it with a jolt and revving the engine, hard and fast, enough to make the entire thing lurch. 

The boat speeds back toward the house, cutting aggressively through the water, and the tension starts to ease not because anything’s been resolved, but because everyone is pretending nothing happened. 

Ben slides right back into his usual self, brushing off the confrontation like it never happened, already throwing back another beer. 

He was always good at pretending, always good at rewriting a moment to suit himself but Harry isn’t pretending.

YN sees it in the rigid set of his shoulders, the way he refuses to even glance in Ben’s direction or really anyone’s for that matter.

It’s shocking that no one has taken note because this behavior is so unlike him. 

He keeps his eyes forward, focused on the house in the distance, his jaw clenched so tight she wonders if it hurts.

Which is exactly when Lauren takes her opportunity.

She stands, adjusting the bikini straps on her shoulders before strutting toward Harry, YN watches as Lauren plants herself in Harry’s lap, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders and wriggling her hips into the space where his thighs meet.

It’s possessive, clear as day, and YN feels something dark and aching twist in her stomach.

Lauren giggles, touching his chest, playing with the chain around his neck, and she leans in, murmuring something YN can’t make out, and then goes in for a kiss.

Harry gives her a kiss, but it’s nothing like the ones he gave YN last night. 

It’s dry. 

Chaste. 

Obligation.

When Lauren tries to deepen it, mouth opening and tongue nudging against his bottom lip, Harry leans back, says something under his breath, and YN watches Lauren pull away with a pout.

Still, Lauren doesn’t get up. 

She stays seated in his lap like she’s claiming him with her body alone, like the more she plasters herself to him, the more of a statement she can make.

It shouldn’t bother YN.

It shouldn’t make her heart thud painfully in her chest. 

It shouldn’t make her feel sick because she keeps flashing back to the night before—how he touched her, the way he called her honey, the way he made her fall apart under his touch like she was the only woman he’d ever wanted.

And now she has to sit here and watch another woman wrap herself around him like none of it mattered.

She looks away, forces her gaze on the water. 

She doesn’t dare check if Harry’s looking at her again, even though she can feel his eyes sliding back to her again and again.

She’s not strong enough to meet them, not when her vision is starting to blur, her nose prickling with the warning signs of tears she won’t let fall out here in front of everyone.

She presses her lips together so tightly they go numb.

By the time the boat reaches the dock, YN is the first one off.

She doesn’t wait for the rope to be secured or for anyone to say anything to her. 

She grabs her things, makes up some lie about feeling seasick, and practically bolts.

“Think I’m gonna take a nap,” She calls out over her shoulder, voice already hoarse.

She barely makes it up the stairs and through the sliding doors before her tears spill over. 

She strips off her damp clothes and gets under the shower, letting the water scald her skin, scrubbing at the day, at Ben touching her, at Lauren touching Harry.

Eventually, she tugs on an old t-shirt and underwear, too drained to care about anything else, and curls on top of the sheets without bothering to pull the comforter over her.

Through the window, she sees the boat engine start again - then, slowly, it drifts back out of the alcove, heading into the open stretch of the lake.

And YN just wants to sleep - she doesn’t get to drift for long.

Her eyes are closed, lashes damp against her cheeks, but they snap open when the bedroom door swings open with a force that makes her sit bolt upright. 

Her heart pounds in her chest, wild and startled, because she hadn’t realized anyone else had stayed behind.

And then she sees him.

Harry.

His chest is rising and falling like he’s just sprinted across the property. 

“You don’t get to tell me you don’t want me and then get jealous over Lauren,” He snaps, voice rough and shaking with restraint, though not with volume. 

He doesn’t yell, but the words land hard anyway, “You don’t get to look at me like that, act like you can’t even stand to be around me—then act like I’m the one who fucked up. You don’t make any sense, YN.”

Her mouth goes dry, her hands twist in the hem of her t-shirt, her skin still warm from the shower, her thighs bare against the sheets. 

She looks down to avoid his stare because she knows she’s playing a game she doesn’t have the courage to finish.

“I didn’t say I don’t want you,” She says mulishly, the truth leaving her in a small, crumpled whisper, “I never said that.”

Harry doesn’t move.

The space between them stretches. 

Charged. 

Heavy.

His voice drops lower, sharper, but it loses none of its edge.

 “What did you say then?” He takes a step into the room, slow and deliberate, “Because I didn’t hear you say anything positive. Not one fucking thing. Not last night, not today.”

Positive about what?

That she wanted to keep sneaking around?

That she was addicted to the way he made her feel and couldn’t bear to give it up?

That it didn’t matter how wrong this was, she would still pick him if he asked?

Maybe they should talk, maybe they should fight, maybe they should unpack every fucked-up layer of this mess that the found themselves in so quickly.

But all she can think about is how close he is now, how tense he looks. 

How flushed and angry and gorgeous he is when he’s unraveling because of her.

“Please,” She says, the word breaking in the middle as her posture shifts, her shoulders slackening, her legs bending slightly where they’d been curled. 

Her voice is soft, almost unsure, but the meaning underneath is anything but.

Harry stills.

His eyes flicker—not with confusion, but alertness like an animal catching the scent of something to eat. 

“Please what.” He grits out, through clenched teeth, his hands are still at his sides, but she can tell—he’s fighting himself.

YN doesn’t know where the boldness comes from as she leans back on her elbows, slow and intentional.

The hem of her shirt rises slightly with the movement, revealing the soft skin of her stomach, the top edge of her underwear. 

She lets her legs fall open just a bit—enough for him to see she isn’t wearing anything else, enough to let the silence between them twist into something heavier, hungrier.

She says his name, just barely.

“Harry.”

And that’s it.

Harry breathes harshly through his nose, jaw locked like he’s biting down on every ounce of self-control he has left. 

He curses, low and vicious, “Fucking hell, honey.”

-

[starkovzova]

day five: blackout

for @kingdonmicrofic | rated: t | word count: 454 | ao3 (tags for # Going non-verbal)

She gets like this sometimes… quiet.

It had scared him the first time she went utterly silent; he was so used to her chattering away, carefree rambles that he still felt privileged to receive, often like the words were constantly bubbling over the surface out of her. He had felt silly, texting her despite her being half in his lap in the sticky bar booth surrounded by their friends, but felt less so when she immediately responded please take me home. 

She had explained to him hours later in the safety of her bed, voice raspy from sleep and disuse, that occasionally the things in her brain got so loud that the only way to stop them was to shut that part of herself down. A rerouting of resources to allow herself to recharge. 

So it doesn’t surprise him when she puts her noise cancelling headphones on seconds after the shift from hell ends—city blackout, backup generators cutting out, no AC, angry patients, screaming patients, dying patients, overcrowded to the max, the perfect storm of overstimulation. He knows better than to grab her hand on the way to his truck, turns the radio off and the air high, and tries to keep his own fidgety body in check during the short drive to her condo. 

The air is off here too and Mel actually whimpers, hunched shoulders, looking smaller than Frank’s ever seen her. They could try to go to his place but he doubts it’s any better there so he crouches in front of her so she can read his lips, tells her to strip and follow him to the bathroom. 

The late afternoon light cascades through her sheer curtains, guiding both of them to the bath he draws for her, not scalding like she usually likes it, but veering on the side of cold. He doesn’t add her normal scents to the water but at her nod lights the few candles she keeps in here. 

He helps her in only when she reaches for him first, settles her into the water and feels his own tension in his spine loosen when her face relaxes. Her headphones are still on, her braid finally undone so her hair fans along the water, eyes closed and looking so pretty his chest aches for a moment. Frank moves to leave but her hand is firm, her eye peeking open in silent question that he answers by pulling his own scrub pants off and sitting on her bath mat in his boxers, legs outstretched, hand loosely tangled with hers inside the cool bath. 

He won’t be able to stay like this for long, and he knows she knows that too despite not saying anything. 

She didn’t need to. 

[imtotallylexie]

Hi! sorry it took me so long to request! I was quite fascinated by your writing, really. (I read a few)

It would be a delight if you made a Larissa fanfiction based on the song “sleep talking” by Indigo De Souza. (it‘s one of my favs!) Perhaps, the reader is a few hours away from Nevermore and they have been married to Larissa for quite a few years now! Now, I was thinking Larissa hasn‘t been getting home for the past few weeks due to the daughter of her old roommate causing trouble and mayhem wherever she steps. So, Larissa hasn't also been giving them updates too, often sleeping after resolving the issue or working on a dozen paperworks. Hurt/Comfort perhaps? thank you! <3

Larissa Weems x Reader - When I get home

Summary: Larissa is a workaholic. She'd give up anything for her job. Luckily, her wife won't let her.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Based on the song "Sleep Talking" by Indigo De Souza, hurt/comfort, overworked Larissa

I drive down the highway with a tense jaw. I'm so done with this woman.

First, she tells me her old roommate's been pulling strings to get her daughter into her school. I haven't heard a single good word of said daughter since the day she arrived.

So what does a good, loving partner do when she has problems in her life?

That's right. She chooses work over her wife of 6 years.

On a cozy Friday evening, we lay together on the couch, watching whatever silly reality show we found at the time. Just like we do every weekend. That was, until she spoke.

"Darling, are you still awake?" Larissa asks, sliding her hand down from my waist to my hip. I only hum, as I was starting to doze off.

"Darling.. I think I'd like to move to Nevermore. Fully." She whispers, as if she's afraid that, dare she say it too loud, she'll scare me. Hearing those words wakes me, as I immediately prop myself up on my elbows.

Seeing my suprise, she adds. "Just for a while, my love. You know I told you about the Addams girl? She's caused so much trouble that my paperwork is piling up. And that's not even mentioning all the emails from concerned parents."

"But, Larissa.." I try to protest, but seeing the pleading look in her eyes, I give in. With a deep sigh, I mutter out an "...alright."

It was almost fine. Really. She has her own "dorm" to sleep in, she has meals prepared for her, everything should be okay. The only thing I asked of her, was to call me every night before bed.

Which she did, for a while.

Until she didn't.

She started calling less and less. I don't know what happened. Maybe she thought I'd be forgetful enough to not notice the occasional absence of the most important part of my day.

The "I forgot", "I was too tired", and the "I fell asleep early" excuses only worked for so long.

Eventually, she stopped calling altogether.

The last time we talked was now a week ago. It may not seem like much, but this is my wife, not a simple friend. 'Til death do us part feels a little weak lately.

So now, I'm here.

I got home from my shift, I ate, and I immediately got in the car. I've been driving for three hours now. There's a reason Larissa doesn't take this drive every day.

I ignore glances from any patrolling teacher or sleepy student as I strut down the halls, making my way to her room. I burst through the door with the frustration I've been carrying since she left, but falter at seeing the place lifeless.

Empty.

The anger shifts to worry.

Where is she?

I check in her bathroom, just to be sure, but she isn't there either. With my stomach turning, I hurry over to her office. The metal nameplate feels like an empty promise, yet it still gives hope.

I really am preparing for the worst, mentally. To see her laying dead on the ground, choking on her own blood. To see her with another woman, making love to her with a passion she hasn't given me in months.

But the sight that greets me once I push the door open isn't much better, either.

There she sits. My wife, laying on her desk, her head rested on her arms. Her laptop is still open in front of her, and papers are laid out all around her.

I immediately make my way to her side, concern overtaking me completely. On her screen is a half written email to the mayor, something about a donation? Doesn't matter. Larissa is passed out over her work.

"Oh, darling.." I mutter, turning to gather the papers together and put them to the side. I reluctantly shut her laptop as well, and kneel by her side.

"Rissa... Rissa, darling.." I repeat until I see her stir, tracing gentle lines along her spine. Larissa clearly doesn't want to get up, giving a groan of protest.

But she seems to realize the situation quite quickly, though, as she sits up. She gives me such a dazed look, unable to manage wide eyes in her sleepy state. "..you're here?"

"You cannot tell me you think I wouldn't check on you after a week of silence." I stand up from the ground; now that she's sitting up, I don't have to kneel. I cross my arms across my chest, almost offended at the thought.

"No, no, just..." she trails off, looking into the empty fireplace for a while. I don't press, just watch her face, waiting for her to speak. She lets out a tired sigh, before whispering. "..take me home?"

"Of course. That's what I came for." I pull her up from her chair, not bothering to put things in order. I leave everything behind as it is, guiding her down the halls, outside to my car. My steps are silent, as if I have to sneak around, but the slow clicks of Larissa's heels give us away.

I parked right by the entrance, having been prepared to leave in a haste. Though we're not exactly in a hurry, I just wouldn't want to drag Larissa all the way to the parking lots.

"If you don't mind a little risk, you can lay down in the back. Sleep a few hours 'til we get there. I'll go slow." I open a door for her and step aside.

After a hesitative glance between me and the car, she climbs inside and lays across the seat. She has to pull her legs tight up to her chest to fit properly, but it's still more comfortable than sleeping while sitting.

I shut the door and went to round the car, slumping inside the driver's seat with a heavy sigh. I start the engine and drive off without a word. Larissa's already kicked her heels off and put them on the ground.

"Darling, can you give me my phone?" I hear her say from behind me. I think about it for a beat, looking at my bag on the passanger seat.

"We left all your stuff at the school." I say. She hums in response, considering something before speaking up again.

"Then please text my employees that I'm gone." Her words trail off into a sigh, as I hear her shifting around, getting comfortable. Not even 10 minutes have passed when I hear her soft snores. She dozed off.

༺｡° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. °｡༻ | ༺｡° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. °｡༻

Close your eyes, and take a minute to listen to the song. Imagine, Reader, the words you hear, are Larissa's thoughts as she sleeps.

༺｡° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. °｡༻ | ༺｡° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. °｡༻

I lay in bed, curled around Larissa, listening to her steady breathing. Sleep avoids me, as I instead focus on keeping her comfortable.

But despite my efforts, she wakes. She looks up at me with hazy eyes, most likely confused at how she got here. She looks down, seeing the blanket wrapped over only her, tall enough that her toes peeking out.

"I carried you in. It was a little hard to get all that leg in my arms, but I managed." I stroke her hair, making Larissa realise that I've undone the pins from the curls.

She looks up at me with such disbelief, but I see the hint of gratitude behind her eyes. She doesn't say a word, so I reach over to my nightstand and hand her a bottle of water.

That seems to have caught her off guard, but she takes it from my hand with a nod. After taking a few sips, she hands it back to me, finally uttering a "Thank you, my love."

"Go back to sleep, dearest. I'll be right here when you wake up." Larissa contemplates it for a mere second, then pulls me up to her chest, all cozy, and settles into the pillow.

It doesn't take long for her to fall into a deep sleep. She's home now, and she's got her wife in her arms. Reunited with the things she almost lost.

Phew. So, um. When I said I'd post this today, I didn't think it'd turn into tonight (for me). I may have set the bar a little high with the deadline, so I'm really sorry if it's not the best. Not much hurt, but definitely comfort! @winefields I hope it lives up to your expectations. I'm not quite the most satisfied with it, but it was definitely a good thing to pass the boredom. Over halfway through, I realised It doesn't have to do much with the song, so I worked it into it to make up for that. If anything, you've got a reason to listen to the song! This is something I made, to help me see things better, so you can have this image as well. Thank you for reading!

[frenchfry99]

Boo! 👻🦇🎃

Wishing you the most spooktacular Halloween!!

Some doodles below

My kiddos!! the sibling trio all together :) I have yet to introduce two of them but I ensure you they're all quite silly!!( it's even their last name smhh)

Anyways-

Pumpkins..

This year Lilly wanted to be a creepy pumpkin >:]

while Sunny and Billy - vampires. Turns out their costumes matched Frank's :D

(as a tailor Sunny definitely was the one who made costumes for their siblings and most likely helped other neighbors with theirs!^^)

Tailor and theater kid they're besties your honor

Lilly lore? On Halloween? More likely than you think

"Found a funny clown lady by the forest but everybody else seems to not notice her or runs away in fear! How odd!"

Lilly, are you sure they were scared of you?

[yanderenightmare]

Yandere Seven Deadly Sins

♡ AN: from the Promptlist

♡ TW: a lot of different stuff today, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, yandere, stalking, gangbang, harsh language, sexual exploitation, bondage, zero holes safe, and more, read at your own risk

♡ FEM reader

Pride is an artist, and you, poor dear, are lucky enough to be his muse.

You’d caught his eye one day simply by coincidence while working your part-time job as a barista.

And though it had been a rather unorthodox request—between balancing school and work and constantly finding yourself both strapped for cash and strapped for time—you’d decided to quit and take him up on his offer—as what he was offering was about twice what you could make at the cafe anyway.

He’s not that much older than you, but he’s old money. And while you're stuck in community college, he goes to an elite art school—which he doesn’t even show up to, 'cause why would he? They can't afford to kick him out anyway, given his father’s donations make up half of their yearly budget.

And so he's free to self-study as much as he wants.

Yeah... he’s a little too used to getting what he wants—exactly how he wants it—without delay. So when you struggle to come to your sessions on time due to having to take the bus to the other side of town, he decides to solve it by buying you a car. And when he doesn’t feel like that’s sufficient enough, he buys you an apartment right above his own studio. And when you try to reject, he only has three concise words for you.

“Don’t be stupid.”

The way he says it leaves very little up for debate. In fact, it leaves you mute each and every time. 

It was nice in the beginning—you didn’t protest to anything other than his overpriced gifts. You were flattered and blushy and giddy and more than happy to sit pretty for him for hours at a time while he sketched and sculpted and painted and whatnot. It was essentially nothing in comparison to the luxuries he gave you in return.

But you think, at some point along the way, he must have forgotten that he only owns the artworks he makes of you—not you yourself.

“N-naked?” you stutter, looking at him wide-eyed where he stands in his usual apron—flecked with the proof of your countless sessions. Honestly, it was getting to be a little strange posing for him in a room stuffed with a myriad of sketches, paintings, and statues of yourself. Hadn’t he had enough?

“I can’t capture you correctly when you wear all these rags,” he says—clinically, though with a pinch of impatience just shy of vexation—eyeing you from head to toe, almost with a look of disgust while beholding your clothes, despite being the one who’d bought them. “They obscure everything. So take them off.”

You knew he’d probably had about a hundred models undress for him, and stand here—old, young, men, women—you knew it probably didn’t mean much to him. He probably regarded it the same way he does everything—without even batting an eye. However…

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do that…” You fiddle with your fingers, standing there, still dressed despite him standing ready at his easel, foot-tapping while waiting for you, already with a stick of charcoal between his fingers. 

“Why are you making a fuss? You think I haven’t seen a naked body before?” he jokes, but without humor—no, rather strictness as if you’re wasting very precious time. “This is standard practice—don’t make it anything than what it is.”

There he goes again with those very final words that make you feel all in all kind of silly.

You bite your lip and mull it over before ever-so-begrudgingly uttering a weak little, “Okay…”

You suppose he was right. This is a job, and it’s just nudity—just another shape in the eyes of an artist—it doesn’t mean anything—is what you tell yourself while you undress. Still, you can’t help but feel flush—heart pounding in your chest as you fold your clothes all neatly for some other nervous reason. 

“Resume the pose,” he says—almost like a drill sergeant. And you jump into place, timidly rushing over to the chaise where you lie down like before.

This does feel like it would be a better painting, you admit. More reminiscent of Renaissance art and such. Not that you know much about it, but thinking back to field trips through the museum, you seem to remember having seen plenty of portraits of naked ladies lying on pretty but uncomfortable sofas just like this.

He seems very invested, at least. A deep furl between his brows, nearly scowling at you while he works—though you’ve come to learn that it’s just his concentration face.

After a while, he sets his charcoal down and wipes his blackened hands on his apron.

You sit up, asking, “Are you done?” All but ready to leap from your seat to your clothes and finally cover yourself again.

“No, keep still,” he all but reprimands—voice intense as he stalks across the floor over to you with determination written plainly across his face.

You draw back in place as he rests his knee on the chaise and leans forward. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come and correct your pose, but you couldn’t help but flinch this time around, feeling just a bit too exposed.

His hands are warm and overworked, both dry and a bit clammy all at the same time. You didn’t mind much when you wore clothes, but it felt a bit too intimate now as he touched your bare skin. But you bear with it despite that.

Eyes closed, you repeat that same line from before—it doesn’t mean anything, this is standard practice, it doesn’t mean anything.

It works in calming your breath for a moment, but then he grabs your tit.

You gasp, jolting back while stuttering, “Wha–what are you doing?”

And yet, he keeps his steal gaze just as fixed and unfazed as before, sighing at you as if you were overreacting, before stating rather simply, “Getting a better understanding of your body.” He then reaches toward you again, showing no concern for how you shrink away. “It’s easier to replicate when I know it by hand.”

Again, you let his voice silence you, and again, you closed your eyes and let his hands wander—around your chest, up your neck, down your belly, and then—

“Wait! That can’t be necessary—” you blurt out, this time with your arms and hands shooting forth to distance him.

“Oh, trust me—it is.” Again, he pays you no mind, simply bearing over you with his entitled hands roaming whatever place he so wishes and chooses. Only clicking his tongue at you when you squirm, “Don’t fuss.”

You don’t exactly push him away, though you don’t exactly make his pursuit easier for him—lying there beneath his touches, wiggling and whimpering, though not really protesting either as he feels your slit.

Your fingers curl into his arms, gripping his messy shirt streaked with paint and coal—as his fingers run through your lips, teasing your entrance and your clit. He twists his hand around and presses his thumb down on the pearl after it perks for attention, then enters you with his pointer finger—drawing out wetness before promptly feeding you another.

You bite your lip as they curl and spread within you, testing you out while rubbing firm circles into your clit.

Gingerly, your hips return it, starting to move in tune with his ministrations. Thighs trembling, keeping your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you start to pant—small moans leaving your lips with every breath, feeling it build within you—a small flame at first, nursed until it fills and all but fights for room within you before finally bursting.

“That’s it—that’s the expression,” he purrs—voice much softer than usual—cupping your face with his other hand, holding you steady while taking in those dopey eyes sparkling with pleasure and those parted lips that never dare speak up—eyeing you like he's the proud owner of a prized possession. “Perfect.”

He hums, sounding pleased, then gets off you shortly after, sauntering back to his easel.

“You can get dressed now. I got what I needed,” he states, picking the stick of charcoal up again, ripping the last sketch off for a fresh sheet before starting anew as if nothing had happened.

And you, still lying there, are left just as mute as usual.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Touya, Hawks, Shinso, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Megumi ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Oikawa, Sakusa ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin, Sae, Baro ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Muzan, Sanemi

Wrath is your ex-boyfriend who refuses to get it through his thick skull that the two of you are over.

Any time you talk to another guy, he beats him up—to a fucking pulp, no less. 

He’s always been that way, and still, it wasn’t always like this…

You started dating each other when you were young. He was rough around the edges, and you liked that about him—tattoos from his neck down to his ankles—the type your parents would have a heart attack if you ever brought home.

He was going to be a professional fighter, he’d say—mixed martial arts. He had all the rage and zero technique, but still, he’d land some of the best on their ass all through pure strength of will alone. 

He was near impossible to train, though—always too wired to be able to take any pointers. And that’s why he needed you. You were his reliever. He’d fuck you like it was his last day on earth, and suddenly he’d be able to do anything. Like an enhancement drug, everything would start moving in slow motion, and he could somehow see all the moves of his opponent before they ever made them.

You admit you liked hearing him preach about it. It made you feel important—made you feel as if half the win, or at least some of it, was yours. And when he started raking in the dough as the champion, winning multiple titles across several tournaments, you were more than happy to be his lucky charm and cheer him on from the sidelines.

But then, you had this awful and sudden feeling of being just that—a tool for his success and nothing else. Sure, he’d give you presents—pretty things he thought suited you well—but you hadn’t gone on a date since his career started, nor had you had a proper sit-down dinner together either. He’d stick to his diet regime, be out training at the gym all day, and you’d be home, going about your own business.

And while you were doing that, you’d think—about the nature of your relationship. And what you found is that all it really entails in the end is him demanding a fuck whenever he needed it—before a tournament, before training, before an interview. And then, after coming to that glum conclusion, you can’t help but feel like nothing more than another one of those items he keeps loose in his gym bag.

And those thoughts only got validated when you tried denying him sex for the first time…

You were just curious, really—curious to see what he’d do. If he’d beg, if he’d plead, if he’d say boo, don’t be that way while down on his hands and knees for you.

But of course... he can’t get anything else but angry.

“If you’re not gonna give me the one thing you're useful for, then what the fuck do I keep you around for?” is what he’d said—no, barked. “You think you’re special? If you’re not gonna put out, I might as well go out and find me someone who will.”

He’d fucked off to some other room with a huff and left you standing there. 

And you don’t know, amidst the shell shock and the ache of your heart coming undone... suddenly, you had no idea why you were there or with him or what you were supposed to do—and when you found no answer to any of those questions, it made no sense for you to stay. And so you went to your shared bedroom—or his bedroom, as a matter of fact, which you’d stayed in for the last months—quickly grabbed your things—your things specifically, and not all the other stuff he’d thrown at you—and stuffed it all haphazardly in your bag, then gone out to the entryway to put your shoes on.

That’s when he’d reared his head again with the gall of asking, “Where the fuck are you going?” 

He hadn’t had that same raised tone as before. No, this time it was lowered—frayed—with a touch of urgency and unease as if balancing on the edge of a knife—as if he knew he'd done something wrong and was reaping the consequences and yet still hadn't the balls to simply apologize and correct it.

And so, you hadn’t answered him.

“It’s the middle of the fucking night,” he’d stated then, coming closer, ready to grab your arm with that hint of alarm in his voice increased. “Hey, I asked you fucking a question—”

That’s when you’d twisted around and slapped him. You’d put all your might into it as well, though you doubt it compared to much of what he’d felt in the ring. 

And still, he’d looked at you as if he’d just lost all his titles. 

He hadn’t said anything else after that—just stood there with his mouth agape as you opened the door and slammed it shut behind you. In fact, you don't think he even dared do so much as take a breath.

You’d gone and crashed at a friend's and rethought your life. There was no way you could ever go back, after all—not after what he’d said. Treating you like a stay-at-home whore. Who the fuck does he think he is?

What an asshole—you'd tried convincing yourself as you cried yourself to sleep…

The days and weeks after were nothing if not fucked up and toxic, to say the least. You’d go out to have a fun time and try to forget about him, but he’d always show up out of the blue to ruin everything—being his usual douche self. 

Though… you can’t exactly claim to be any better than him—not after finding yourself in bed with his number-one up-and-coming rival.

Of course, it ends up all over the news—big headlines plastered on every gossip platform pushing your private affairs for all to see—a real media circus if there ever was one.

You end up back in his apartment. To talk, he’d said—a pretense you had a hard time believing in. He’s never been one to talk much. Honestly, you don’t know why you even bothered coming over when he asked. There might even be a chance he’ll kill you. This is how most homicides start, after all.

The two of you sit in silence for a couple of minutes. You look off to the side, waiting for him to speak because fuck knows you have nothing to say. 

Meanwhile, he just stares at you—his big, hulking body leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands braided before his face. It’s the type of posture he’ll have when sitting in the corner of the ring—he’s got that same look in his eyes, too, deadset on you.

It makes you a little nervous, actually—maybe he really does plan on killing you.

“Why’d you do it?” he asks suddenly.

You almost scoff—almost roll your eyes, but you end up simply returning his dead glare. “Is that really what you asked me here for?”

He doesn’t answer that question. He just keeps staring at you.

You huff out a sigh, “I don’t know, maybe I just wondered what it would be like to be fucked like a woman for once and not someone’s toy.” 

You don’t know why you decided to take it there when you both know why you’d done it. What other fucking reason would there be other than to get back at him? It’s a stupid question to begin with, and so you give it a stupid answer in return. And you won’t deny it feels fucking good—seeing him like this. Five o’clock shadow, eyebags, and uncut, disheveled hair. 

He looks like a wreck, and rightfully so. Fuck knows what a mess you’d been before you finally managed to drag yourself out of bed. Funny what the single simple thought of revenge can do for someone so lost.

He scrapes his thumb down his jawline, over his stubble—a deep sigh running through him as he leans back on the couch. Offering no other reaction as he says, “I can sit here and act threatened, but you and I both know he was shit compared to me.”

He throws his arms up against the headrest, chin tipped up. Thinking he can hide it, thinking you can’t see right through him—to how hard he’s fighting to upkeep the poker face. 

He’s forgetting who his opponent is.

“I know you, babe—I know your body. And there's no fucking way some shitstain you just met–”

“His dick was bigger,” you interrupt—face blank because two can play that silly game, and you do it better.

He’s shut up for a moment—you can see a vein pulse, but it’s quickly stifled, and he smirks instead, snickering despite his grit teeth, “Sorry, that must'a hurt given how much you cry with me.”

This time, you don’t refrain from scoffing and rolling your eyes, “That's all you have to say? Thought you were a fighter.”

“You want me to get jealous? Is that it?” he accuses then, starting to crack, throwing your scoff back at you, “Tch—should've fucked somebody important then.”

This time, you skip the eye-roll and flat-out laugh instead, “I'll keep that in mind. Next time, I'll call up your dad-”

That did it—got him out of his seat and everything. “Shut your mouth.” Standing big and hunched, all muscles and fury.

And you react in kind. Glad that you’re finally getting somewhere. “Make me.”

"You're fucking–" He clenched his fist in the air, scrunching his face in frustration, withholding a growl before releasing a heavy sigh instead.

Dropping his arms, shoulders slumping—hanging his head the same way whilst mumbling under his breath, “Fuck this… fuck this entire thing.” 

And just as quickly as he’d sprung to his feet, he flopped down on the couch again. 

“I don't wanna play games…” He looks up at you—now with the look of a starved and beaten dog. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

He reaches out slowly—big hands cradling your thighs, pulling you towards him gently, and you let him—put off by that strange new look in his eyes.

“You can fuck half the world, and I'd still only want you.”

It’s an odd confession. Unexpected coming from him. You’d anticipated more of a fight, not whatever this is. Looking at you with glossy eyes on the verge of tears. Suddenly, you feel kind of mean, struck with this sense of guilt for having reduced him to such a state.

“Don't take the high road. It doesn't suit you,” you declare, though without much bite.

And he just sighs, “Fuck that, we’re even now.” Pulling you even closer still—into his lap—he makes you straddle him. Forehead to forehead without kissing you yet. “So, are you gonna let me fuck you, or are you really gonna make me beg?”

And though you would kind of like to see what he’d look like on his knees, the sight of him like this was good enough proof that he’d learned his lesson despite it not being an apology.

Besides, he'd been all too right when he’d said the other guy couldn’t fuck you like him.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Kyotani, Sakusa ♡ BLLK – Shido ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi ♡ HxH – Uvogin

Sloth is a street urchin.

You volunteer at the homeless shelter and can’t help but feel extra sorry for him. He’s only around your age—so young yet with no future to speak of.

This winter, given it’s going to be an especially harsh one, all volunteers have been asked if they have any spare room they can be so kind as to give to those less fortunate. And though you’re not that well off yourself, you still have an extra room you’ve only been using as storage.

So, unable to look the other way, you decide to clean it out, get a bed, and host him.

You took precautions first, naturally—just to be safe. But, from what you could tell, he’s neither a drug addict nor has any criminal record to speak of. No, he’s just another abandoned kid who'd society had failed.

This is the least you can do to correct its wrongs.

And, of course, he falls in love with you for it. Not only do you give him a place of rest—but you make him warm food, give him fresh clothes, do his laundry, draw his bath, watch movies with him every night, and always ask him if he has everything he needs. You even cut his long, shaggy hair for him and give him luxuries such as face-lotion. 

You’re a saint, too good for a filthy sinner like him, but he’ll never let you know that... No, your pity feels too nice—taking such good care of him—he’s going to leach off of you and your honeycomb heart for the rest of his life if he can help it.

He doesn't look too bad after he cleans up, and after a few more weeks of eating well and getting enough rest—he stops lurching and starts standing up straight, looking lanky and lean with muscle—at which point you can’t deny he’s even a little hot. You know… in that scrappy sort of way.

You feel weird about it, of course—guilty even. He’s a homeless guy you’re housing—you’d be nothing if not downright evil if you took advantage of him. But after a few weeks of settling in, he starts feeling like more of a normal roommate and not a stranger. And with that familiarity, you both lose the distance and become more lax and loose around each other—wearing less, talking casually, not afraid to brush up against each other, and before you even know it, you find yourself folded in half beneath him on the living room couch.

You don’t know what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into—but his cock’s so big he’s pounding the sense right out of you with every thrust.

He’s not even going fast. No, rather slow, actually—taking his time as if savoring it. But that doesn't take away from the pleasure bubbling up inside of you where his strokes hit so heavy, resting deep within, so fulfilling that it all but replaces your better judgment with the sole need to squeeze him with all you've got.

“Mh, you’re pussy’s so nice and warm—I could stay inside you forever.”

You’re so wet it’s ridiculous—like never before—like you’re the one who’s been starved and neglected and not the other way around. Getting your breath all but knocked out of you, getting fucked so utterly full, he’s making you kick your feet and curl your toes in the air, bucking your hips back into him like you’re desperately begging for more.

He’s got your knees hooked over his arms, keeping you neatly pressed under him. “You’re so good to me—so, so sweet, you must be the sweetest girl in the whole entire world. My guardian angel.” 

All you’re able to do is babble and moan in return—misty- and cross-eyed with your dewy face cradled in his hands. 

You just hold onto his wrists while he speaks fondly against your lips, “You saved me when no one else even bothered looking. Let me return the favor—give this pretty pussy all the thanks it deserves.”

When he re-angles and hits you in a different spot, the switch in your lower belly is immediate—making your whole body seize up and shiver, breath shuddering in your throat, followed swiftly by a pulse migrating from your core all throughout your body, tasting oversweet on your tongue enough to make you drool. 

He locks lips with yours, slurping your spit up sloppily and keeping himself fully sleaved as you peak—feeling your wet, gummy walls tighten and flutter, rippling along his length like a rush of kisses. 

Then, right before it fully dies down, he picks up the pace again and rekindles it—because fuck knows he’s well-rested and over-due and the farthest thing from done with you just yet.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Denki, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo, Yuji, Megumi, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ – Kuro, Lev, Miya twins, Suna, Tendou ♡ CSM – Denji, Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Nagi ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Togame

Gluttony is a five-star chef. 

You start off as a waitress at his restaurant. And yet, he’s the one who developed an appetite—for you and your pleasing smile and that busy-bee swing you have in your hip as you hop around from table to table. 

He licks his lips at the sight of you more than he does the food he makes. He even had the uniforms altered in your image—made the skirts shorter and shirts tighter.

He's utterly shameless, but who can blame him? You’re such a little bite-sized treat—he just has to taste you.

And taste you, he most certainly does. 

For breakfast and for brunch and lunch and dinner and supper, as well as a midnight snack.

“Your pussy juice is my favorite,” he groans from between your legs.

Fat-muscled chef’s arms, tattooed with all types of silly patches, curled tightly around your thighs, keeping you close despite those times you try and push away when it gets to be a little too much—because fuck knows he doesn’t have the same reservations. Nose and tongue and chin deep in your slit, slurping you down while filling you up with his words, “I want to flavor every meal I make with you.”

You keep a hand over your face, kissing your knuckles, sometimes with a bite—whimpering pitifully, “Gross…”

Of course, you can’t help but cringe when he says things like that. He’s your boss, after all, not a porn actor. Still, you don’t say it with much conviction. It’s just that you get so embarrassed you don’t know what else to say.

He chuckles, still with his face buried. “Don’t be childish.” Words muffled as he doubles down on his efforts of sucking on your clit like a piece of candy.

“I’m not,” you whine. “You're just weird.”

He smacks off of you at that, a refreshing sigh leaving him rugged and raspy, a devilish look in his eyes as if he’s about to eat you for real. “I’m a world-renowned chef—are you implying I don’t know my flavors?”

Everything in your gut coils with anticipation, nearly rumbling with need, while he pulls your lower half up and even closer—face glossy with the way he’d gorged himself already—licking his teeth now as he refocuses on your clit alone.

Flattening his tongue on it while he speaks, sounding like some type of beast, “I’ve tasted everything the world has to offer. And I'm telling you, this pretty little thing between your legs is the best there is.”

You can’t stand looking up at him. Beyond embarrassed, you hide your face with both hands. Mumbling out a weak, “Pervert...”

Again, he snickers, shaking his head as if he’s ripping into flesh when he’s really just got his tongue out—straight motorboating your poor pussy.

When done, he drops you onto the bed again, grinning while replying to your insult, “Can’t argue with that,” before promptly kissing and licking up your belly—with fingers replacing his tongue, pumping you on his knuckles, getting you ready. 

He groans when his mouth reaches your chest, lips wrapped around a nipple, “If only these titties had milk. I could feast on you from every position.”

You don’t know if you should giggle or grumble—he’s such a baby—and a spoiled one at that. But really, his fingering is making it difficult to do anything but stammer and try and keep it together, “We talked about this—I’m not taking hormones just to breastfeed you, you weirdo.”

He whines then, “Please—it’s my only wish in the entire world—I need it.”

You struggle to argue, feeling like you’re under siege—an onslaught set out to make you breathless. “Well—” you pant, gritting your teeth and bearing it. “We can’t always get what we want.”

“Oh, I’ll see about that.” He takes it as a challenge, this time really locking his lips around your nipple and suckling—releasing just briefly to say, “I bet if I suck on these babies enough, they’ll give me what I want.”

He keeps his fingers working diligently while at it—used to multitasking—curling and spreading them out within you, pumping you so fast, you barely have the time to beg him to “Stop that—” before you’re already shaking and cumming for what must be the seventh time already.

He laughs breathily, kissing your teat goodbye as he lifts himself up again. Pulling his fingers out of you, he brings them to his lips and blithely sucks them off. 

“You know I can’t stop, dear. I’m so hungry—I’m ravenous.”

You watch him from over the tips of your fingers. So hot and mortified you think you’re soon to pass out. Breathing heavily behind your hands, muttering, “You’re a glutton—that’s what you are.”

Again, he just cheerfully snickers, bowing down to your halfway-hidden face with a smile. “I hardly see how it’s my fault I can’t get enough of you.” 

He spreads your legs again and finds his place between them.

“You’re the one who got me hooked—so you better take responsibility for it.”

♡ BNHA – Kirishima, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji, Todo ♡ HQ – Bokuto, Ukai ♡ BLLK – Baro, Aiku ♡ AOT – Zeke ♡ DS – Doma ♡ HxH – Uvogin ♡ WB – Umemiya, Togame

Lust is your boss. He's the owner of the strip club where you work, your pimp when money’s tight, as well as the porndirector of all your lovely little films.

Yeah, you might as well have a tramp stamp of his name on your ass, the way he practically owns you…

He's around ten years older and has basically taught you all about sex from when you were only a fledgling in the industry. You live at his studio above the club since he keeps all your money in a bank account under his name, calling you his little sugarbaby and telling you you’ll get an allowance and that you can get more if and when you ask him nicely and tell him what it’s for. 

“Don’t be a brat, baby. You know how I hate it when you're a bad girl,” he says when you raise the topic of moving out, treating it as if you’re a child threatening to run away from home.

“I don’t belong to you. Give me what you owe me.”

Honestly, you have no idea where you got the courage. 

But is it courage? Or is it just plain stupidity? Because, though you’re increasingly more terrified as you quickly watch him lose his temper, it doesn’t exactly come as a surprise. And so, if you knew this is what was going to happen—why the fuck would you put yourself through it?

Must be madness.

“I give you everything, don't I? Food, clothes, a home,” he chastises, bearing over you while you’re down on scuffed knees, holding your wrist in a bruising grip and your face just as fiercely—nearly tearing the skin off your cheeks with the bite of his nails.

“And still, you have the fucking nerve to act like a goddamn bitch.”

You hiccup on sobs, spluttering out a desperate “Please—I’m sorry–”

"You and your entire slut body belong to me, you understand that?"

"Yes-yes—please—I'm sorry! You're right! I belong to you! I'm sorry!"

That seems to calm him just a bit—at least enough to take the bite away from his voice, now cooing at you in an ugly mocking attempt at sweetness, “Yeah, you do every single little thing I ask. ‘Cause if you’re not gonna behave like a good girl, I have no other choice but to treat you like a bad one.”

He lets your audience be rowdier than usual that night, allowing them to slap and grab, then forces you to have an extra rough shoot afterward—with tighter bondage, more toys, bigger guys making use of you like a piece of meat, smacking and choking you as they find out how many cocks your holes can fit, every last one finishing on your face.

Then, when you’re all done and all used up for the day, he brings you upstairs—home, sweet home—where he treats you to some much-unwanted after-care...

You shiver and shake despite the hot water. Sitting in the bathtub, laying back with your spine against his chest, feeling thin like a sheet of paper, all crumbled up and torn—sniffling and sniveling as the after-shock of the day still ricochets through you like wind through a hollow husk.

“The shoot today was rough, huh?” he drawls, washing you with his own hands. Stroking your poor sore cunt despite how it makes you whimper. “Yeah... was it a little too rough for you, hm?” 

You don’t do anything in return—but your body language says enough on its own, and he allows it to be your answer.

Sighing heavily, he wraps you up with both arms and squeezes you tighter, chin resting atop your head.

“You know… if you’d just be my good girl, I’d give you a good girl to-do list. Let you stay here all day, do some house chores while I’m gone, make love when I get home, hm? Doesn’t that sound better?”

He traces a welted bruise on the inside of your thigh, one you got from the shoot—roughly the shape of a hand, and a dozen more others layered on top of it. It makes you suck in a hiss.

“But if you’re gonna be a bad girl, then this is what you get.” 

He settles into the grove of your neck, purring against your ear. “Are you gonna be my good girl from now on? Hm?”

You bite your lip, breath shuddering while nodding pitifully.

And still, he insists, “Say it so I can hear it.”

The water’s gone cold around you—just like everything else, as you say, “I’ll be a good girl.”

He seems pleased, at least. Nuzzling against your cheek with chin stubble and a smirk, asking, “Yeah? Whose?”

Your voice is small and pathetic, nearly a wince, “Yours.”

He groans then, “That’s right. My good girl.” Lifting his hand from the water, he takes hold of your chin, fingers pressing into those designated sore spots as he angles your face toward him and gives you a heartless kiss before growling against your lips, “And don’t you ever fucking dare forget it again.”

After he’s finished washing you up, he carries you out to bed. It's one you fear much more than the one down in the studio.

Because in this bed, just like every night in this hellhole… he starts teaching every last one of your holes who they belong to.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Toji ♡ BLLK – Reo, Shido, Aiku ♡ AOT – Zeke ♡ DS – Doma, Muzan, Sanemi

Envy is your enemy. 

Or, well, no, he’s not your enemy, but you’re most certainly his enemy. 

You’re just not aware of it because of what a ditzy and clueless airhead you are. 

But fuck, he can’t stand you—you and your fake personality, acting all bubbly and sweet, cheering him on, always telling him to do his best—condescending little bitch acting like everyone’s friend—like he doesn’t see through you right to your rotten core. You don’t fool him—he knows you’re as bad as the rest of them, so just quit pretending like you’re better or something.

You’re under the false impression that the two of you are friends. You just think he has a strange sense of humor, but you laugh politely even when you don’t always get the joke.

Well, maybe it’s not so much politeness, but the fact that you have a big fat hopeless crush on him.

It infuriates him. He throws your niceties back in your face as insults, and you just laugh. How low do you think of him? Honestly? How tall is that high horse of yours that you have your head constantly in the clouds?

Poor you… you just think he’s so cool—always saying what he feels like, not a lame people-pleasing goodie-two-shoes such as yourself. You can’t help but follow him around like a lost puppy all day long. You’re always making sure you sit next to him during lectures—heart almost beating out of your chest, holding back from squealing when your prayers are answered, and the two of you are finally paired for a project together. 

It really feels like the universe is on your side, and so you just can’t stop yourself from going the full mile—making chocolates and preparing him a hand-written love letter. You know he’ll think you’re a little silly, that he’ll make fun of you for it—but you can’t expect to get anywhere without putting your heart on the line, can you? For a chance at love, the risk must be worth it!

Yeah, you’re such a hopeless romantic—you feel it as he punches his fist through your ribs when he rips out your poor heart and stomps all over it. 

“I fucking get it already! You’re little miss pretty and popular. Would you quit rubbing it in my face, or do I really have to spell it out for you? I. Don’t. Fucking. Like. You,” he seethes through grit teeth. “Go pick another one of the hundreds dying to be your partner and leave me the fuck alone!”

You shrink where you stand, shocked doe-eyes rapidly welling up like a flood, lips wobbling as you choke on your words, “Oh… okay… I’m sorry… I just… I–”

“You-you-you what?” he barks at your stuttering. “Spit it out already! What the fuck do you want?”

“I just-I-I just always thought you were amazing. So…”

His face contorts, scrunches up in a grimace different from anger, though not without it, as he spits out, “What the fuck are you on about now?”

But his voice is a little diminished now, with confusion usurping the place of his hate, suddenly feeling a little out of sorts because… what did you actually just say?

“I just, I really like you–” you repeat, hanging your head, only barely able to mumble through the tears blocking your throat. “But I guess I’ve just annoyed you all this time—I’m sorry...” 

Only now does he notice you’re trying to hand him something—a flat little box with a pink note attached. 

“This is for you, but I understand if you don’t want it.” Unable to look up, you just stretch your arms out until it gently bumps into him. 

Baffled, he accepts without thinking.

“I’m sorry—I’ll leave you alone from now on.” And then you run off, disappearing with a sob that all but shoots him through the chest.

And slowly bleeding out, he remains standing there, eyes glued to where you'd left—mouthing the word what…

What did you just say? 

Like? Him?

Did he mishear you, or did you just confess? 

No way—that can’t be it, right? 

But what the fuck is this heart-shaped letter, then?

"What the fuck did I just do?"

You look like you’ve been crying your eyes out all night the next day—your usual bubbly personality reduced to a ghost in a shell, walking the hallways like a zombie, slowly and without purpose, eyes on the ground—letting everyone bump into you.

You don't even so much as bat an eye when someone runs straight over you, fully knocking all your books and folders onto the floor. 

You just get on your knees and start recollecting them.

A newfound hate flares up within him at the sight. “Hey, you!" He stomps over. "Watch where the fuck you’re going next time, dipshit.” 

You look up at the sound of his voice—flinching before you notice it’s not directed at you.

No, rather, he’s got a boy up against the lockers, lifted by his collar onto the tip of his toes. Face only a few inches from his, glaring at him harsher than he’d glared at you yesterday.

“Now apologize to the girl before I punch your ugly face in.”

You stare at the altercation with large eyes, only able to blink as the boy who’d bumped into you starts spluttering on the verge of tears, “I–I’m sorry–I didn’t see you! Sorry!”

You don’t answer. Shocked and speechless, you remain on the floor in confusion, asking yourself why’s he doing this? Didn’t he cuss you out yesterday, or was it all a bad dream like you'd hoped?

He throws the boy on his way, then gets on his knees down alongside you—proceeding to help you gather your things.

You only watch on in wordless bewilderment until he starts muttering something under his breath.

“I’m sorry I made you cry yesterday.” He stacks all your things in a neat pile next to you while continuing his apology. “And for being an asshole. You didn’t deserve that.”

He keeps his eyes fixed to the floor where his hands busily roam around until there was nothing more to retrieve.

He then hesitantly looks up at you—eyes flittering—a little too ashamed to hold your gaze as he says, “Your chocolates were really good.”

That’s when your heart starts fluttering again—as if new life was just breathed in and revived it.

He can see it as well—how you light up like a rekindled candle.

“They were?” you gush, shuffling closer on your knees all excitedly—face brighter than the sun on cloudfree summer day.

It blinds him—nearly stunts him, only able to utter a meager, almost shy, “Yeah.”

He then slings his bag in front of him and pulls something out.

A lunchbox. 

“I made you these..." he swallows thickly. "As an apology…”

He’s utterly red—from the tips of his ears to his neck and entire face, even his hands.

“For me?”

“Yeah..." He reaches it over stiffly. “They’re not as good as yours, though...”

You eagerly accept despite his nervousness, popping the lid off where the two of you sit—right there in the middle of the hallway floor, with other students walking around you like water passing two rocks in a stream.

His blush grows ever more intense as you pick one of his crudely made chocolates up, not even examining it before throwing one into your mouth.

It was his first time making anything that required a recipe. And they most certainly did not come out well, but he figured the embarrassment was part of his atonement.

He didn’t actually expect you to try them.

But there you are—lying through your teeth, saying, “I think they’re great!”

He can only scoff out a soft laugh. “Of course you would.” 

Turns out, you really are just a nice person after all. You don’t have the heart to be mean at all, do you? Yeah, you don’t even have it in you to feel any of the ugly things he keeps inside. In fact, he bets you don’t even have the means of knowing such ugly things exist.

That must be what he’s envied about you all this time…

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Shinso ♡ JJK – virgin Sukuna, Megumi ♡ HQ – Tsukishima ♡ BLLK – Rin, Sae ♡ DS – Genya

Greed is your clingy childhood friend. 

He doesn’t want to share you with anyone and gets viscerally jealous each time you hang out with others. It’s as if he feels boils rising beneath his skin, simmering with a violent need to kill anyone and everyone you ever come into contact with—even if it’s just a passerby who accidentally brushes against you.

He can’t stand other people—how they think they can just come along and be your friend when he’s been your friend since you both were in diapers. What? Do they really expect him to share you with them? Just like that? No way. You’re his best friend. They should all go find themselves their own.

Actually, the term best friend doesn’t even really cut it… It’s a little too childish. You’ve both grown out of it. And besides, it never really fully encompassed what the two of you actually are to each other. You’re so much more than just friends, after all. Yeah, what you really are is soulmates. Yeah, that sounds more right. Soulmates.

And the bond between soulmates is like the bond between an addict and their favorite drug. You wouldn’t ask an addict to share his favorite drug, now would you? No. Not unless you’re prepared to either kill or be killed.

But he can’t say he blames them for wanting you, either. Of course, they’d want you—anyone would.

He pities them, actually. And you make it no better for the poor suckers, stringing them all along—acting as if there’s enough of you to go around. Well, there just isn’t. And even if there was, he shouldn't have to share you with anyone.

Yeah, the problem here is you. You don’t get it, do you? You don’t understand that you’re his. 

Well… seems like he’ll just have to teach you once and for all, now, doesn’t it?

“What’s… this?” you mumble groggily once you wake, sluggishly tugging your bound wrists—not yet aware of what they are. Your eyes blow wide once you do—voice turning sharply frantic, “What’s happening?”

“We’re having a play date like we used to.” He comes into view just as the panic sets in—and though his face has all the familiarity to be a sign of comfort, his words evoke no such feeling within you.

“Remember? How we used to play house?" he says. "Granted, we're a little older now… so I thought I’d change it up a bit.”

He stands before the bed you’re currently lying tied down on. But he doesn’t look like himself. No, there’s something very wrong about all of him. Seeming way too at ease for the situation.

“Instead of making mud pies…” he continues. “I'm gonna fuck you and give you a creampie.”

Your heart lurches up into your throat at his words, and you choke. Your clothes from the day have been removed, leaving you naked. You spot them lying on the floor in a heap while you spastically look around for clues as to “What the fuck’s going on? This isn’t funny–”

“Shut up,” he says—his demeanor still as nonchalant as he climbs on top of you and pushes something past your lips, nudging it deep down in your throat.

Feeling it as it scrapes your tongue, you can tell it’s your lace panties, and you gag—shaking your head, trying to dislodge both it and his fingers, but he holds you steady.

“I have things to say. So, be a good friend and listen.”

You start crying then—brows cinched as you look up at him in terror, full-tremoring now while struggling under his weight and the all-too-intimate way he starts touching you.

“I'm glad you’re still a virgin…” he suddenly says, running his hands down your breasts, catching your nipples between his fingers.

You twist in disgust, halfway convinced you’re having some godawful fucked up dream—that this just can’t be happening—but somehow, at the same time, something deep in your gut that’s been lying there for a while ignored by your kind heart doesn't find it completely without warning, having felt how strange he'd been acting as of late—always looking at you a certain way and saying certain concerning things—certain concerning things he’s saying right now, “I’d kill all those little toy friends of yours if you were ever so stupid to let them have it.”

He glares at you—looking every bit angry, and yet you can’t describe it exactly. Something about that look in his eyes makes him seem like a complete stranger to you. Then he cracks a smile, and it makes it all the worse. Bowing down until his forehead presses clean against yours, noses rubbing against each other.

“But I think you knew. Didn’t you? Knew how it wouldn’t be right. Knew it was mine to take.”

He shuffles backward until he’s separating your thighs instead of straddling your waist. And you croak with an especially full-chested sob as his touches travel further down along with him—with savage goosebumps running rampant across your body once he rubs his thumb crassly over your slit.

“You see?” his breath shudders in his throat—thick with something mortifying that’s bound to ruin you forever. “It’s so happy to see me.”

You whine and scramble, trying to force your thighs shut—but he has the upper hand—keeping you spread with his body while two of his fingers slip through your lips and bully themselves inside.

He pumps them in and out with zero regard to how you recoil—only sneering at the way you worm in disgust, “At least your pussy understands where its loyalties lie.”

It’s not long before his ministrations draw wetness, and he pulls them out—inspecting them in the dim light he’s left on. Rubbing the digits together before putting them in his mouth.

You close your eyes with a whimper while listening to the sickening sounds of him sucking them clean.

He puts both hands around your neck next. He doesn't squeeze hard, but your breath stops nonetheless. Eyes stinging with both spent and still-welling tears.

“I’m upset with you,” he states, brushing his lips over your parted ones, still stuffed and silenced with your own underwear. “But I’ll forgive you if you apologize and swear to me that you meant it when you said we’d be friends forever.”

That look in his eyes—you still can’t explain it. Desperate, desolate, deranged, and enraged—something downright sick.

“But since you can’t talk right now, you’ll have to prove it some other way...”

One of the hands disappears, and you hear the following sounds of a zipper being undone, then the rustling of his pants being shoved down.

“Cum on my cock, and I’ll know.”

The room tastes of blood and something rotten as he frees his cock and graces your clit.

“Actions speak louder than words anyway, after all, don’t they? So cum on my cock, and I’ll cum in your pussy, so we can seal our friendship again—just like the time we married each other on the playground.” 

He enters you, and you think you might just die in the mix of horror and grief.

And yet you remain perfectly alive—even as he rips through you and splits both you and your heart apart.

“You can think of this as the honeymoon,” he whispers. “Always and forever, happily ever after, never apart.”

♡ BNHA – Deku ♡ JJK – Gojo, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Tendou ♡ BLLK – Bachira ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Nirei

♡ HEAVENLY VIRTUES ♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[intromortal]

⭑ INCH BY INCH ⸻ park sunghoon

you have a boyfriend gifted with a pornstar cock, but he refuses to use it on you, too scared he'll end up hurting you. so your best shot is to devise a plan to get him to crumble, and even if things don't unfold quite as expected, what matters is the result anyway... right?

starring ⋆ f!reader x park sunghoon, besties!jaykewon

this work contains ⋆ smut ⋆ minors so not interact ⋆ barely any plot, way too much smut, sunghoon being diabolically hung, my extremely poor attempts at humor, established relationship, nasty nasty shit... brat tamer sunghoon, alcohol consumption, implied driving under the influence, jealousy, slut shaming (not from hoon), a tiny bit of violence, blood, size & bulge kink, fingering, dry humping, slight degradation, partially clothed sex, a freaky voice message, edging & overstim, oral (f!rec), mutual masturbation, lube, squirting, unprotected sex ⸻ rules m.list

length ⋆ one shot ⸻ 23.6k words

⭑ NIA ⸻ i'm in pain and my period is abt to start ANDD antibiotics fucked my stomach up so if you see typos no you don't. anyways. big fat cock. who agrees!! shoutout to my homies vivi and stella for putting up with my ass and deactivation threats anytime i write anything ever!!! and for having read this before anyone else

Having a dick so big multiple people suggest you make a career out of it isn't half as nice as it sounds, Sunghoon would know that better than anyone.

Even before getting any experience, he'd been aware of just how comically large his dick was. He'd known ever since he had to go out of his way to search for porn with ‘massive cock!’ in the title for it to look anything like his, and even then he often found himself thinking they had to be exaggerating a bit for the sake of clicks.

Turns out, the comparison with real life average sizes is even more ridiculous.

He knows it sounds silly, there are hordes of men out there that would pay good money to swap places with him—his dear friend Jake being the first in line.

Sunghoon still cringes when he remembers the first time he'd oh so innocently asked Jake for his opinion on the matter. Truthfully, all he wanted to hear from his bleached blonde friend was some reassurance, maybe how it was all in his head, or how at the end of the day the right person would love and appreciate every part of him no matter what, or whatever you tell people in situations like these. His first mistake was believing Jake out of all his friends would do the most tactful thing.

“That thing’s like—fucking huge!” Jake shrieked, grabbing Sunghoon’s phone out of his hands, every protest falling on deaf ears. “There’s no fucking way, man.”

“It’s not that b—” Sunghoon tries to speak, but Jake stops him before he even gets a sentence in, calling Jay’s name at the top of his lungs. 

“What are you—”

“WHAT,” Jay yells back from the kitchen, over the deafening sound of the food processor in use, annoyed by Jake’s continuous interruptions that day. Of which at least four were to show him some nasty looking recipe he found on tiktok.

“You gotta come take a look at this!”

At the time, Sunghoon was still vaguely uncomfortable around Jay. He was nice enough, and he was a great roommate, so there was that at least. It was a good trade off because the other option was staying at the way too crowded shitty dorms, and he liked the privacy that this deal got him. He wasn't always on board with it, Jake had to talk him into it when high school ended, but he swore him and Jay would be the bestest of friends if only he could let his reservations behind for a little, at least give him a chance.

Sunghoon moved away halfway through the second year of high school, and for a while it felt like Jay had swapped places with him and taken the life he was supposed to live for himself. First his best friend, Jake. Then the girl of his dreams, the one he never found the courage to confess to, you.

Thing is, while Sunghoon could recognize Jay had done absolutely nothing wrong to him per se, he still felt betrayed by him in a way. Truly it was just envy.

The food processor comes to an abrupt halt, and all that can be heard from the other room is a deep sigh, followed by the sound of dragged footsteps as their tall friend walks into the messy—in the way only college boys living spaces can be—living room with resignation. “Fine. But this better have nothing to do with Cheetos or tacos.” 

“Much better.” Jake winks at him, nudging Sunghoon’s hands away with his elbow, the younger hissing in pain. “Behold,” he turns the phone towards an unassuming Jay, aware of the fact he's about to change the older's view of Sunghoon forever.“Sunghoon’s monster of a cock.”

Jay’s hands stop on his apron, (the ridiculous one with a bodybuilder torso and cheetah boxers Jungwon got him for a secret Santa) and his mouth hangs open for a second too long, before he comes back to his senses and notices how Sunghoon slumps back on the couch, cheeks burning red. Jay swats the phone out of Jake’s hand. “What the fuck is your problem, dude.”

“What? I’m just saying it’s way larger than average!”

“He’s uncomfortable.” Jay says, going back to drying his hands on the apron. “Leave him be.”

This only makes Sunghoon’s cheeks redder, his ears a bright pink too. Jake scoffs, eyeing him suspiciously. “Sure. I’m sure having a porn star cock must be so mortifying. Who even complains about stuff like this?” he snickers before making his voice a pitch higher. “‘Poor me! My dick’s too heavy! What will I do!”

“Oh my god,” Sunghoon runs a hand through his hair, pulling the ends a bit. “It is not that big.” He looks at Jay for support, expecting him to disagree with Jake.

Jay’s gaze falters to his pants for a split second. His mouth twists but he remains silent.

“Not you too.” Sunghoon's hands now hold his face as he sinks into the cushions further, legs spreading. “Just say what you wanna say.”

“I mean…” Jay gestures towards Sunghoon's crotch. “I suspected you were big but… that’s crazy, man.”

“It’s not that cra—”

“Yes it is! You’ve got a fucking gas storage tank in your pants and you wanna sit here and tell us it’s not crazy?” Jake says, exasperated by that point. “And stop playing dumb. It’s big. That’s good. I’m sure the ladies go crazy over it. Or the gentlemen. Or whoever it is you fuck.” He kisses his teeth, muttering under his breath. “Lucky bastard.”

“Jake’s right, Hoon. I don’t know why you're so… negative about it. It's a good thing."

“I wouldn’t know,” Sunghoon mutters under breath, more to himself than to the guys, but it’s still loud enough for them to catch it.

“Oh? Then whenever the time comes, you’ll see how much they’ll love it,” Jay says.

"I'm just worried." Sunghoon tries his best to avoid both sets of eyes staring intently at him. "What… what if I end up hurting someone?"

Jake coos, then moves closer to Sunghoon on the couch, his breath fanning over his ear as he whispers, “Always so concerned about other people. Aren't you such a cutie pie?”

The boys weren't exactly wrong, but with big dick come great responsibilities—as Jake said. Yup, roll your eyes at him, not Sunghoon. He's innocent—like having to finger and eat out your partners for what feels like an eternity before even trying to push the tip in, which is not exactly the best situation to be in as a virgin. Current Sunghoon thinks that's the best part, but it took a while to get here.

Sunghoon has always been a very patient man though, a gentle giant in every sense of the phrase. The last thing he would ever want to do is inflict pain accidentally on another human being.

When he got his first actual girlfriend, he'd been so nervous and honestly quite scared to have sex with her. So he got on Google whenever he had free time to study ways to make it as comfortable as possible, watching all kinds of video explanations or reading through feminine pleasure blogs written by women for women specifically, because that's where Jay told him the good stuff was at.

By the time he got to actually have sex with her, his mind was so overwhelmed by all this information that he essentially forgot how to even think. It was anything but romantic, so deeply embarrassing Sunghoon still cringes even after all this time when his mind betrays him and reminds him of it while trying to fall asleep at night.

And then, to add insult to injury, his girlfriend cheated on him and left him for this guy she'd only just met, because 'it might not be as big, but at least he knows how to use it'.

Heartbroken and with an hurt ego, Sunghoon did that thing all boys do when their first relationship doesn't work out: hit the gym and promise themselves they're never gonna fall in love ever again.

That second part ended up failing, because from the moment you showed up at his doorstep to visit (your now ex boyfriend, but a beloved friend nonetheless) Jay and Jake, five different bags around you, with eyes as big as saucers and staring at him like he had invaded his own apartment, all the feelings younger Sunghoon had for you hit him like a brick to his nape all over again.

You two dating came as a shock to everyone around you, mostly because while you were aware of Park Sunghoon's existence and vice versa, you'd never given it too much thought. You remembered him as the scrawny kid with the cute moles from math that you used to always catch staring. He was often around Jungwon because they were neighbors, but was way too shy to even say hi to you. That, and he was also always around Jake—who you were not exactly fond of, given his reputation—so you steered clear of him when you could manage to.

Then, when the third year of high school started, you stopped seeing him around, and Jungwon told you he had moved away to follow his dad's business. You wouldn't admit it at the time but the hallways seemed duller than usual for a few days, but that probably was also due to Jake not being as loud and energetic with his best friend gone.

Last year of high school, you went on a few dates with Jay from history class, and while he was the closest you have ever thought a man to be perfect, you both agreed you worked better as friends than anything more. Usually that means 'you're cool but I'm gonna try my best to not have to say hi to you if I see you around', but Jay is so wonderful, you actually kept in touch and became quite close, even if platonically.

By the time the year ended, you had a very tight group of friends consisting of yourself, Jungwon, Jay, and even Jake—who, for the record, isn't nearly as bad as all the crazy rumors make him out to be. It saddened you that it took so long to find your group, but you were grateful you had one nonetheless, a lot of people never get that luxury, so you weren't about to let a little graduation get in between you all. You spent a good five days consoling Jake that no, no one was going anywhere and yes, you will all be best friends for life.

But then college started, and it became difficult to stay in touch because Jay and Jake had to move. Jake reassured you that you and Jungwon would be more than welcome to visit and stay over at their apartment—which you found funny because that is technically not Jake's apartment at all, at least not until Hoon moved in too and the three of them started sharing the costs, but he has a way of making every place he steps foot in his, like he's meant to be there, so Jay let it slide.

So the first thing you did when you finally had some free time was getting on the cheapest flight available to go visit your friends. Heavy luggage in hand and stained sweatpants on, you were dumbfounded when the one who opened the door for you was none other than Park Sunghoon, and not Jay like you expected.

He was no longer the shy kid you remembered him to be, and he had grown nicely into his features, his hair now a jet back instead of the brown you were accustomed to see. Over those two weeks you realized that while you have know Sunghoon all your life, you had never really seen him, and it made you want to go back in time and hand a little paper note to the shy boy always staring at you during class.

Your head sinks further into your pillow with a whine, the case enveloping it sporting gray spots of wetness, where your tears and drool had accumulated over the last torturous half an hour Sunghoon spent fucking you open with his fingers. You don't know what he means, because you feel like you could take his entire fist by now, that's how wet you are. If your pillowcase is such a mess, you don't even wanna think about what your bed sheets look like.

"I can– take you," you protest, breath hitching mid sentence at a particularly deep curl of his fingers inside you.

"Yeah?" Sunghoon quirks an eyebrow at you, moving his thumb to suddenly hover over your clit. It's not a full touch, nor does he really move it from there, but just the expectation of it has your walls involuntary flutter around his digits. A wicked grin overtakes his face, in a way you think it would clash with his prince-like features. But it looks right at home on him, the canines poking out only adding to his devilish charm.

"Then what's this? Gripping me even tighter," he says against your lips again, like he can't pick between kissing you or speaking, like anything he does he needs to do it with your taste on his mouth. He shakes his head, pouting at you before you get the chance to retort. "Squeeze me this tight when I'm inside you, and I'll believe you're trying to push me out, baby."

The press of his length against your thigh doesn't help, and when your eyes roll to the back of your head, half the reason is the new spot he's now reaching making you see stars, the other is your frustration with him. You know he's huge, and you know he cares about your comfort above all, but a little sting as he bottoms out inside you would be a hundred times better than the 'prep' he's subjecting you to. It took so long to even get here, and now he plans on making you wait even more? You have half the idea to push him off of you and get on top of him, take what's yours. If he's not gonna believe you can take him, you might as well just show him.

Of course, that wouldn't work, because Sunghoon is infinitely stronger than you are and the only thing you would accomplish is looking stupid thrashing under him as he keeps you pinned down. Probably with one arm only too, to really get his point across.

"Add another finger then." There's a certain bark in your tone that makes him chuckle. That's all it is: bark and no bite. You can do nothing but demand, and demand, and demand again, but if he's not willing to give it to you, there is close to nothing you can do about it. And it makes Sunghoon's cock twitch against the slick skin of your thighs. He loves knowing he has you at his mercy.

"Woah!" he gasps, and the fake surprise only irritates you further. Or at least that's what you tell yourself, because Sunghoon doesn't miss the way you clench around his fingers whenever he talks to you like this. "Missy, you're so bratty today… where are your manners?"

The retort is ready on your tongue, but the words mold into a surprised hiss when he actually prods your hole with a third digit, feeling around for a way to slowly ease it into you. You fear it won't be as easy as you hoped, but you also don't want to back down now that he's giving in.

"Just put it in." You angle your hips to give Sunghoon easier access.

"Easy there." He leans back on his knees, and you hate how you're so needy. Even when he's still so close, fingers pumping in and out of you at a torturous pace, you crave for every inch of your body to be touched by his, for your breaths to mingle for as long as possible. You wonder how it's possible to miss someone who's right in front of you, but your heart yearns to hear the rhythmic beat of his own against your chest all the same.

You don't get to dwell on it too long, because the sensation of something wet dribbling right where Sunghoon's fingers meet you rips you out of your thoughts.

It takes a few seconds for you to realize what's happening, but when it sinks in, your mouth slowly hangs open in a moan, eyes closed to relish the feeling.

"You like that?" Sunghoon asks, and for once you can't bring yourself to care about the cockiness in his tone. In fact, it's the last thing you could care about—not when his digits are working to spread his spit all over you, and his third finger is slowly making its way inside you right next to the others. It's a tight fit, and Sunghoon can't really move his fingers like he wishes to, but it'll do for now. He can always do it over and over again until you're ready, as long as you keep making those faces for him. "Look at you," he continues. "You were so demanding earlier, now you're falling apart and I'm barely just getting started."

You clench around him hard, body all tensed up as you accommodate the sudden change in thickness.

Sunghoon bends down again when he notices you're not easing up, trailing his way back up your body with pecks, giving you a few on your lips once he reaches your face. "Does it burn, baby?" he asks, the playful edge in his tone from earlier completely gone, smoothed down to the usual soft timbre you love so much. "Do you want me to take it out? I'll make you cum with two fingers, it's okay."

You shake your head. The stretch does burn, but you also want to prove to him that you can take him.

"You sure?" The murmur vibrates against your ear, the sound of his voice close enough to have you arching your back, pushing your stomach against his harder figure. If you had any sort of reservation about continuing, it's totally gone now. His insistence to make you comfortable always ignites pure want in you.

You nod, but your eyes are still screwed shut because of the burn, so it's not enough for Sunghoon to let go yet.

He slows down his movements, trying to help you out, but the whine you let out is enough to let him know you actually want what he's giving you and more. Still, he needs to hear it. "Use your big girl words, I know you can."

"Wanna keep going."

"Aaand?"

"Please, Hoon." You know you're far gone when you don't even care about how whiny you sound, you would get onto your knees and beg if he asked you to right then. You would want to forget about it right after, but still, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Thankfully, your boyfriend is very nice to you, so 'please and thank you's are enough to keep him satiated, at least for now.

"Good girl."

The praise goes straight to your cunt, further tightening the grip you have on his fingers. Sunghoon is flattered, but that's not what you need in that moment. So he reminds you.

"Take deep breaths, baby. It's only gonna hurt more if you don't ease up."

"Hoon, want more."

"I know baby, I know. But it'll feel better if you stop tensing up. Here, follow my breaths and let go." He kisses both of your shut eyelids. "Eyes on me, pretty. Okay?"

You obey him like it's second nature, but when you open your eyes and you're met with the downright angelic sight of your boyfriend, black strands of hair framing his face and his chain dangling slightly from his neck, you don't understand how you're supposed to calm down. He starts taking deep breaths, ones you try your best to mirror. And despite what you thought, the focus on your chest rising and falling and the warmth in Sunghoon's eyes does make the stretch a lot better. You were enjoying yourself before too, all things considered. Now it's different, you're struggling to keep your sounds in, and any other time you would be mortified by how much wetness is seeping out of your cunt, but Sunghoon's presence is relaxing in a way no one else's has ever been for you.

The more you explore each other's bodies, the more you start to think that maybe, just maybe, there is not a single thing you could do with Sunghoon that you would ever regret. The safety of a judgment free zone with someone who obviously cares deeply for you makes the experience so much better than you could have ever imagined. What other people did to you, no matter how pleasurable, just didn't measure up to what Sunghoon does with you. And you haven't even gone all the way in.

"Theeere we go, see how much better it feels when you're not being a brat?"

Sunghoon is careful with you, watching your every reaction and studying your expressions so he can learn exactly what makes crumble and what brings you closer to the edge, what makes you forget you have to breathe and when to pause so he can drag your pleasure out for as long as he wants, for as long as you can handle. His cock is rock hard, casually rutting against you from time to time. You have half a mind to reach into his boxers and help him out, but you're not sure you could do a good enough job at it, not when he's starting to bend the tips of his fingers to reach right where you need him.

You can feel yourself getting closer, so you grab his wrists—whether to stop him or push him further, you don't know yourself. What you do know, is that just fingers have never felt this good before, and if you had the choice to feel like this forever, you would take it.

The sudden grip doesn't deter Sunghoon, it encourages him instead. His movements are faster, deeper, but still just as precise. It's like he already knows the ins and outs of what brings you pleasure. "Gonna come all over my hand, baby? I know you're close."

You nod desperately, throat too raw and dry to produce sounds more complex than little whines—which Sunghoon finds adorable, he can't wait to find out what sounds you make when he's splitting you open on his cock. He coos, and that alone almost makes you cum. Almost, because what really does you in is his thumb moving to finally circle your clit, really touch it.

Your body tenses up again when your vision goes a searing white, but Sunghoon's other hand finds your thighs right away to prevent you from caging his hands between your legs. He worked hard to make you cum, so you're not gonna take the sight of your fluttering pussy away from him, not when he has rightfully earned it.

"You did so well," he says, his hand caressing the skin of your inner thigh as a reminder to relax your muscles, his thumb slowing down its movement on your clit as your walls flutter around his digits at longer intervals each time.

You eventually even out your breathing, your vision still a little fuzzy, but you feel lighter and content. Once Sunghoon is sure you're okay, he pulls you in for a sweet kiss, like he wasn't just rearranging your guts with his fingers alone moments ago.

"Perfect, you're so perfect," he whispers between kisses, landing a wet smack on your nose when you scrunch it in response. "You're always gorgeous but this—fuck, you're beautiful." He keeps kissing you, each kiss waking up a different butterfly in your stomach. You feel giddy like you haven't ever since you were a kid running through the meadow on a spring evening. You giggle when he reaches the valley of your breasts, and run your fingertips through his hair, his head resting on your chest.

"I love you," Sunghoon whispers, and for the first time in your life you know those words to be true, no hidden intention behind them, no cruel joke waiting for you at the end of the line. It feels right when they're coming out of Sunghoon's mouth.

"I know, I love you t—what are you doing." It's much more of an accusation rather than a question, because you see the little wicked glint in his eyes as he resumes kissing his way down your body—first down your navel, then between your thighs.

"Showing you how much I love you, duh." He spreads your legs as open as he can get them before you start protesting again. "Besides, I haven't gotten a taste yet."

You should stop him, because suddenly you're reminded of how he still hasn't come yet, and you would feel bad to neglect him. The look in his eyes though—needy, almost feral— keeps you pinned right in your spot. "What… about you?"

Sunghoon looks at you, genuinely confused. "What about me?"

"Yeah, I should be… helping you out." You glance down at him, and the wet patch on his boxers makes you clench around nothing. Had you not witnessed first hand how messy Sunghoon can get, you would assume he cummed already. Knowing that's only pre though, makes saliva flood into your mouth at the mere thought of your boyfriend's cock pumping load after load down your throat. Screw 'not hurting' you, you would be happy gagging and choking endlessly around him if it meant you got a tiny little taste.

"Oh baby, but you are helping me out. Just lay back and let me." Sunghoon pops two of his fingers in his mouth, tasting the residues of you high still lingering on his skin, rich and divine on his tongue. "So good, now let me get a real taste."

He trails his wet fingers up your body, relishing in the way you shiver under his touch when he brushes over your nipples. He grabs your face once he reaches it, and forces you to look at him. "Wanting to please me… aren’t you such a generous girl? So, so good for me. So eager to please, you’re so cute.” He doesn't miss how your lip twitches in response to his words, and how your hand slides between your thighs and how they close around it. “But, I'm still not done.”

“But—”

“Shhh,” he silences you right away. He parts your lips with his thumb, and your response to it is immediate, sucking on it without needing to be told what to do. You swirl your tongue around his finger eagerly, as if trying to show him what he is missing by not letting you take his cock out his pants. “See? So perfect for me. Such a pretty and obedient girl, am I right?” 

You nod subconsciously, like he has you under a spell, ready to comply with anything he asks out of you. Maybe he does.

“I know that’s right.” Sunghoon takes the thumb out of your mouth, coating your lips with your own spit as he caresses them with it. “Then do what you’re told and lay back. I can fuck you another time. Now spread those legs for me mkay? Yeah, just like that. So much we can do in the meantime."

"I just don't get why he won't stick it in me."

"You have such a way with words."

You throw a fry at your best friend, only to get more irritated when he catches it midair with his mouth. Jungwon chews it loudly with his mouth open—because he knows it annoys you to death—then washes it down with his coconut milkshake that he won't let you get a sip of because 'using the same straw as me counts as cheating now that you're dating Sunghoon'.

"Okay but why? You're a man. What's the thought process behind this? Tell me."

"Girl, it's your boyfriend. You tell me."

"What if he doesn't fine me att—" A fry hits you right on your forehead, and it's like the impact activates your brain cells, because of course Sunghoon finds you attractive, that is not the problem.

"Now, let's be honest with ourselves please. None of that shit."

Your back hits the bed with a soft thud, arms spread out as you stare at the very familiar ceiling of your room. A sight you've been taking in quite often recently, while trying to come up with a plan to get Sunghoon to dick you down good.

Jungwon shoves a fist of fries in his mouth, barely chewing before speaking again. "I don't get why it's such a big deal."

You roll onto your side, facing the blonde little gremlin occupying the space next to you. "It's a big deal because— why is your ass on my pillow. Jungwon get—"

He silences you by feeding you a handful of fries from the container on his lap. "You were saying?"

You gulp them down quickly before replying, because you're civilized enough to do so, unlike someone else. "We've done it all, and I know he's scared of hurting me, but I can also tell he's holding back. I'm ready– I've been ready. It's just… whenever I think it's gonna happen he pulls back so suddenly, like he's restraining himself."

"Mhh… you've talked to him about this, right?" Jungwon looks at you in a way that feels entirely too judgmental, like skipping the communication part is something you do often enough for it to be a pattern. Something he needs to check off of a list before he gives you more advice.

He's not completely wrong. As in, at one point in your life you had made an habit out of assuming people's thoughts and intentions, but that is in the past. And those people are not your Park Sunghoon.

The polaroids messily scattered on the wall above your desk, like someone had dropped them and they'd defied gravity to stay there, glimmer as the sun starts its golden descent into the horizon. Old, more ruined around the edges ones you took right after Jungwon got you a polaroid camera with his very first salary from working at an ice cream shop over the summer. Pictures of sunsets and dumb words carved into sandy beaches, of thumbs digging into teenager Jungwon's dimples. Newer, glossier ones that you took when Sunghoon gifted you a new camera, after the one Jungwon got you finally broke down after years. You'd cried so hard that day, because it had felt like growing up.

The charger is still hidden under all the mess of receipts in your comforter's drawer, you still hope one day the pink sticker covered camera will turn on if you charge it long enough.

But some things are meant to stay in the past, and better ones are always hiding behind the corner, ready to come your way.

You aren't the young girl with the pink polaroid camera anymore, just like you're not the girl that is scared to voice her thoughts and troubles any longer.

"Of course I have."

"And?"

"Won, he just tells me I need more prep. I've had plenty of that, trust me. Like, he's spent the last month using this toy on—"

"Okay, okay I get it. I trust you, spare me the details."

"—Point is, I'm more than ready. I know it's gonna be uncomfortable and a bit painful at first, he's like… so huge it's—"

"I get it."

"—but that's a given with how big he is. I think it's just… him being nervous, really."

"Have you… tried to, uhm. Take charge? Maybe you calling the shots would make it easier for him to let loose." Jungwon looks down on his lap as he plays with the rings adorning his fingers. You wouldn't say he has ever been particularly shy per se, not when it comes to discussing your sexual life, even in heavy detail. He was the boy your mother made you take a bath with after a whole day of rolling around in dirt as a kid, because his wasn't around a lot of the time. The same boy who has seen you toothless and with horrible haircuts, who has seen all your embarrassing phases. Talking to Jungwon was much more akin to talking to yourself rather than venting to a diary, because he stored secrets in his heart that you would never be comfortable writing down on paper. Except he also calls you a dumbass when he needs to.

It's been a little different ever since you started dating Sunghoon freshly out of college, but you imagine it can't be helped since Jungwon is also very close to him.

You take a deep breath, shoulders slumping with the motion. Yeah, like that would ever work. "He doesn't give up dominance ever, really. I have tried a few times but…" you trail off, thoughts suddenly plagued with images of Sunghoon putting you back in your place instantly whenever you tried to take charge. You have already given it some thought, a lot of thought, actually. What wouldn't you do to have Sunghoon under you and at your mercy, so responsive to every touch, perhaps even tied down. Yeah, you're gonna have to bring it up more seriously to him, maybe then he would let you—

"Are you seriously fantasizing about dominating your boyfriend right in front of my cheddar fries?"

But you're gonna continue that thought another time.

"Let's see then…" Jungwon continues, evidently determined to find a solution to your problem. "Maybe act out? Would that work? Mhhh… I don't know, you're already very annoying day to day and he puts up with that…so."

Jungwon genuinely looks like he is putting so much thought into it, somehow it makes it more offensive.

"Yeah. And who grew up next to him? You. Exactly. You trained his patience, if anything," you retort, but Jungwon doesn't even give you the satisfaction of acknowledging it, because you both know that you do love to be a nuisance to your boyfriend whenever you get the chance.

"Wait." Jungwon perks up after a seconds of deep thought, making the plushies on your bed fall on the floor, but the situation is so dire that you don't scold him. Instead, you cast a hopeful glance in his direction. Please let his brain cells work for once in his life.

"Isn't Hoon like, terribly jealous every time someone brings up that time you and Jay dated in high school?"

The cogs in your brain turn, and if someone was to walk into the room at that moment they would be able to smell the fumes coming out of your and Jungwon's head.

Jungwon continues, though he doesn't need to, because you have caught what he is hinting to already. "You need him to snap? What better reason to if not some good ol' jealousy. Am I right?"

But of course he is, that little gremlin genius.

"And, it just happens that a few high school acquaintances are organizing a get together soon. You know people will bring up you and Jay, just drag Hoon along. It's fate."

"Have I ever told you that you're my bestest friend ever and that I owe you my life, Won?"

Your plan is not working out as expected.

Getting everyone on board took you and Jungwon some time, but they all eventually agreed to come along. Sunghoon himself was the one with the most reservations, since he moved away halfway through high school and he missed a good chunk of it. Most importantly, he missed how you and the others became friends in the first place, so he's always been a little bitter about it.

Calling it a plan was an overstatement. You wore a skimpy little outfit, black miniskirt and sheer thighs, and bet on someone bringing up how you and Jay used to date in front of Sunghoon. You hoped that would make him jealous enough to grab you and drag you home, maybe teach you a lesson that you would inevitably learn nothing from.

Instead, you get sulky Sunghoon with a beer in his hand, looking at you like a kicked puppy as you and Jay make conversation with your old acquaintances. It doesn't help that Jungwon refuses to pick up his phone so you two can come up with something quick to stir the night towards your desired outcome.

The call goes into voicemail again, and you sigh for the hundredth time that night as you end it and open up his chat to type in another text.

"No answer yet?" Jay asks, smoothing his pink dress shirt. He's always the classier looking guy in the room, no matter where he goes, but the hue of pink he chose for the night makes him stand out further in the sea of swarming bodies.

You shake your head. You're in a quieter corner, away from the thumping speakers, but your throat is sore after all the screaming you did over the deafening music. You thought you would get used to the volume when a few of the people at the reunion suggested moving to a club across the street to end the night with a bang, just like the old times, but it somehow got progressively worse instead.

From your side, Jake puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles to catch someone's attention, and when it doesn't work, Jay laughs at him.

"Sunghoon looks bored, I think we should call it a night," Jay says.

"Bored? He looks like he's gonna murder the next poor soul that steps too close to Y\N," Jake takes a swing of the drink he's holding, something that looks like aged whiskey. Very much unlike anything Jake would order. He hisses after the liquid burns his throat, even when diluted by the melted ice. "Jay, my man, your taste is so ass."

You give the interaction a half hearted laugh. Despite your original plan, you hate seeing Sunghoon so uncomfortable, especially when you know he only came along to make you happy. He insists he doesn't belong surrounded by people who pretend to remember who he is and keep bringing up stuff that happened in the past expecting a glint of recognition from him. You tell him there are multiple people with a similar experience to his even when they attended all years, you tell him he belongs anywhere as long as you and the other guys are there. He tells you those are the people that don't get invited to these sort of events.

"It's getting late anyway, maybe we should just go," you say, checking your notification bar for any sign of life from Jungwon. Still nothing.

"I'll go get Won." Jake throws back the remaining drink, scrunching his eyes and hissing at the bitter taste he still isn't accustomed to.

You take a second to scan your surroundings, and the swaying mass of sweaty bodies makes you nauseous. You used to love getting rocked back and forth by the music, uncaring for a single thing in the world if not the overwhelming love you felt for everyone and everything around you when alcohol buzzed through your system. When you were younger, it felt like ibuprofen for your soul. Now, it only amplifies the hurt in your chest when you think about how heavy this night must have been for your boyfriend.

Before you can make your way to him, someone grabs your attention.

"Jay! And you over there, it's been a while."

You instinctively turn towards the loud voice, finding a vaguely familiar face cockily grinning in your direction.

"She has a name." Jay takes a deep breath and gives you a look, his jaw tense, and that alone is enough to let you know right away the guy in front of you is nothing but trouble.

The guy continues as if you weren't even there to listen to the conversation. A ghost. "Doesn't matter, being your girlfriend is all she was known for back then." He takes a swing of his beer, taste as bitter as his voice. He's very obviously drunk out of his mind, words slurring and step unsteady, but his words annoy you anyway.

"Excuse m—" you try to interject, but he speaks right over you.

"You two back together?"

Jay looks like he's seconds away from punching him, but you simply shake your head no. "Oh! No, and I'm not single actually. My boyfriend's here—" you turn around to look for Sunghoon where you last saw him, and beam when you find him right as he walks up to you. His shoulders relax just the tiniest bit when he notices how relieved you look when you meet his gaze, the way you reserve that look to him only, the way you light up as soon as you spot him. "There he is! Perfect timing, baby."

Sunghoon slides a hand around your waist possessively, placing a soft kiss to your temple to really get the point across. "I was looking for you."

Truth is, he wasn't. He had his eyes on you the entire time, but you were playing with your rings and kept readjusting your clothes as the conversation was unfolding, and Jay looked uneasy too, so he figured nothing good was being said.

"Yeah, sorry! Just catching up with friends from back in the day. Y'know, reminiscing and stuff. Have you seen Won around?" You want to diffuse the situation before the idiot in front of you says anything he might regret. You want Hoon to be a little jealous, not for him to get you all kicked out of a party because someone decided to run their mouth a little too much. Your hand finds his exposed biceps, and it looks like he made the right choice by stepping in, because now that he is all up in your space, you're visibly more comfortable.

Sunghoon shakes his head. Last time he caught a sight of Jungwon in the crowded space was when the night had barely started, and he wore a cowboy hat as he shoved his tongue down some girl's throat. Good for him. "He's probably… catching up with acquaintances too."

You look like you are about to say something, but the nameless guy interrupts you before you get a single word out. It gives Sunghoon all the more reason to dislike him, even before he listens to what he has to says. "And you are? I don't recall seeing you around."

"Oh! Hoon just moved to a different school halfway through high school, but we're all friends," Jay replies instead, familiar with his best friend's feelings about his high school years.

"Then why is he here?"

Sunghoon's jaw clenches. You squeeze his arm as if to remind him you are next to him, and he melts instantly into your touch.

"I'm here because my girl and my friends are. Now if you'd be so kind, we are trying to have a nice night, and you're interfering with that." Sunghoon turns around, holding you against his chest as he starts to make his way to the bar to grab another beer.

"Yeah? You know your friend and your girl used to fuck? Maybe they still do."

Sunghoon was raised to be a patient man. One that counts to ten before reacting, a man who wouldn't even hurt a fly. So it must be the alcohol fueling his actions, because before he realizes what he is doing, he grabs the guy by his shirt, knuckles white as a ghost making the material wrinkle in his hold. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Sunghoon knows he is being provoked, but not even Jay trying to step between them can do anything to calm his anger, not when the poor bastard spits on his shirt, then says something that he really shouldn't have.

"I mean look at her." The man laughs, and it's bitter, filled with something more sinister than mere disgust. It's envy. "Are you surprised? She's dressed like a whore."

Sunghoon moves before you have the time to grab him, right fist colliding with so much force against the man's face, his lip breaks on contact. He wobbles a bit, hit taking him by surprise, but he just gathers the blood dripping inside his mouth and spits it by Sunghoon's feet.

"Hey! Hey." Jay grabs the guy's arm, roughly yanking him back as a crowd of people starts to notice the commotion, heading to take a look at what's happening, a few bodyguards included.

"So tough," the man starts a laughs interrupted by winching when his broken lip curls too much. "Take that out on your so called friend—"

Your voice drowns out the rest of the sentence. "Baby, please."

Sunghoon looks at you, and for a second you doubt he sees you. There's so much anger in his eyes, like he wants nothing more than to rip the little bitch in front of him to pieces. They're almost unfamiliar in a way that send shivers down your spine. You hate the fact that you can't tell if it's fear or lust. But the storm behind his gaze clears out for a second when he sees the alarm on your pretty face, just the one you need. "I wanna go home."

No matter the anger coursing through Sunghoon's bloodstream like venom, thick black poison inciting him to turn back and finish the job, his conscience always prioritizes your well being and what you want. So when you take his hand a make a beeline for the exit, he follows without a single complaint.

The car ride back home is uncomfortably silent.

Sunghoon doesn't hum the random tune playing on the radio like he usually does, he doesn't hold your thigh nor does he even spare you a glance, and you start worrying he might be mad at you.

The words said about you earlier sting, but they don't hold a candle next to Sunghoon's silence. You want to speak up, fill the void that is so uncharacteristically awkward, but the words die in your throat the second you try to push them out.

A ding! followed by your phone screen lighting up signals a new notification, and you swipe through your phone to find out if Jungwon has finally made his existence known.

It's a text from Jay. You notice how Sunghoon's eyes dart to your phone for a split second before going back to focusing on the road ahead, his jaw twitching under the street lights.

00:27 AM. Jongie <3: You guys made it home yet?

00:28 AM. you: not yet, you? did you find the others?

Last thing you heard as you dragged Sunghoon out of the club was Jay arguing with both the still nameless guy and two bodyguards who had been notified of commotion next to the bar. Your main goal was to get your boyfriend the hell out of there before he broke someone's face in, but now that you're away from the mess and the dizziness from the alcohol has started to die down, leaving your muscles and bones tired, you worry for your friends too.

00:29 AM. Jongie <3: Heading back now, Jake texted me he found Won.

00:29 AM. Jongie <3: Wasted, ofc. But apparently Jake's taking care of him now.

00:31 AM. you: don't know if i like the sound of that. will they ever let us back in there?

00:33 AM. Jongie <3: Yeah no chance, Won won't be happy when he finds out.

00:35 AM. you: how did him and jake even get home?

You lock your phone for good after Jay confirms Jake mumbled something about a really nice girl with a great rack driving them home, deciding you'll deal with their bullshit another day, when you're completely sober and not worried about what your unusually silent boyfriend might be thinking.

Just in time for Sunghoon to pull into his driveway. He doesn't remind you to take your bag with you as he always does, he doesn't wait for you to be out of the car before heading straight towards his front door. Truth be told, you're more shocked he didn't just drop you off at your own apartment because now you're really sure he must be upset with you.

It's dumb, really. What that guy said is anything but your fault. But your panicked mind makes up scenarios in which Sunghoon knows you wanted to make him jealous, wanted to get a reaction out of him for something as silly as getting him to properly fuck you. It convinces you he has every right to be upset.

His hand twitches in pain for a second while unlocking the door, dried blood—both his and not—staining his pristine knuckles, and it only aids in making you feel worse. You follow him through the entrance, and he waits for you to walk inside before locking the door for the night. It's now or never.

It takes all the courage you can find within yourself to speak, and still your voice comes out uneven, shaky, things your voice has never been when talking to Park Sunghoon. "I'm really, really sorry."

He turns back to you like you just said the most shocking sentence he's ever heard in his life, and he quickly grabs you by your hips when he notices just how scared you look. He quickly realizes you must've mistaken his silent attempt at calming down his anger at the situation for coldness towards you for some reason, and his heart breaks a little at the thought of having made you doubt yourself. When he answers, it's the softest you've ever heard him. "What for, pretty girl?"

Tears well in your eyes when you fail to find the words. You're sorry for so many things, you don't even know where to start. You're sorry for dragging him somewhere he didn't even wanna be in the first place, sorry for taking advantage of his kindness for your own benefit, you're sorry his knuckles are raw and bloodied just because he had to defend you. Above all, you're sorry for being so damn selfish.

Sunghoon carefully caresses your face with his clean hand, so none of that bastard's blood goes anywhere near your pretty features. His thumb swipes across your bottom lip like it's second nature, silently waiting for you to say what's on your mind. He searches your gaze, but you're too busy trying to not burst into tears right there in front of him, so he lowers his hand to your jaw and gently angles your head upwards.

His eyes are kind and warm, no hint of the searing coldness they held mere minutes ago. "None of what happened today is your fault," he speaks slowly, sincerely. He makes sure every single word leaving his lips is loud and clear, no room for misunderstanding or doubt. Sunghoon is smart, he knows you like no one ever has put in the effort to. "I'm sorry if I made you doubt yourself back there, I should've said something. I'm sorry." He sounds secure and confident in what he's saying, but the little unsteady breath and the sharp swallow that come right after betray him. His hand slightly trembles on your skin, and it makes your heart sink even more.

Something else to add to the list. You're also sorry for making Sunghoon feel guilty over your emotions when he never did anything wrong to begin with.

You still struggle to speak, especially when Sunghoon is looking into your eyes as one would towards the light shining through the water surface after holding their breath in far too long, like it means being able to breathe again. There's a devotion in him you've never seen, something actors on a stage cannot replicate, something you don't think words to describe it have been spoken out yet. Something purely unique to you and him.

When your words fail you, you show him your own devotion in a different way.

There's a medication kit Sunghoon got forever ago solely to patch up Jake and Won whenever their Jake and Won antics get them hurt (very often, comically often). Never in your life would you have imagined Sunghoon to be on the receiving end of the care, but here you are.

Sunghoon follows you wordlessly to the couch, giving no protest when you point to sit down while you take your spot next to him.

The saline stings as you carefully clean the wound, but Sunghoon makes no show of it. You finally have a reason to look at somethings else other than his eyes as you gather your thoughts, but he doesn't lose sight of the frown deepening on your face.

Sunghoon watches you intently through his now messy bangs as you hold his bigger hand in yours as if it were made out of the most precious, frail glass. His fingers are way thicker than yours are, but you brush against his knuckles with the cotton just as softly as he kisses your forehead seconds before you let yourself be taken by slumber in his arms every night. He sees all the expressions fluttering on your face, he gives you the time he knows you need. He knows there's something you need to get off your chest.

When the blood stains the cotton instead of his skin, you speak up, "Does it hurt?"

Sunghoon hums in disagreement, the sound dry in his throat. You press into the raw skin a little harder, earning a low hiss from him. "Don't lie to me. We don't lie to each other."

"We don't, but you're hiding something from me." He stops before continuing, his voice a mere whisper, "what's wrong?"

"You got hurt because of me."

"That's not—"

"Yes you did." And once the river of words tumbling out of your mouth starts, it can't be stopped any longer. "I know how you feel about high school and—"

"It's not that—"

"But it is. I don't care if it was five years ago or ten or fifteen, I know you feel a certain way about it and don't lie to me to spare my feelings because it makes me only feel worse. You feel a way about it and I still went out of my way to take advantage of it for such a stupid reason and now I feel like a fucking idiot. And it also got you hurt."

"Baby," Sunghoon says after a moment of quiet, only filled by your heavy breathing. "Hey."

You busy yourself by grabbing the gauze in the little med kit next to you, but you make the mistake of glancing at him for a second, and the little smile dancing on his lips keeps your eyes glued to the sight.

"It's only a few scratches. What's all this really about?"

"I just… fuck, I'm never living this down." You stretch the white bandage over Sunghoon's wound, wrapping it a few times to fully secure it. You take a deep breath, buying yourself more time by inspecting your boyfriend's fingers like they're the most interesting thing you've ever seen in your life. He playfully taps his index against your palm. It makes you smile despite your best efforts not to. "I just wanted to make you jealous."

You say it so quietly even Sunghoon, barely inches away from you, almost misses it. Almost, because you hear the teasing in his tone loud and clear. "Jealous?"

Cat's out of the bag anyway, so you might as well explain yourself. "Before you say anything, Won gave me the idea."

"Of course."

"I just, y'know. Best friend stuff," you say, as if it's the answer to everything.

"Best friend stuff… as in?" Sunghoon keeps prodding, and the faint smile you hear as he speaks without having to take a look at him simultaneously makes you want to grin and roll your eyes at him. You bite your inner cheek instead.

"As in… complaining about my boyfriend…"

"Oh, you must have so much to complain about."

"Well, for starters, my boyfriend doesn't want to fuck me—"

Sunghoon erupts in a fits of boyish giggles when he finally figures out what's going on, delighted to see how embarrassed you are by this whole ordeal. He grabs you by your hips and sits you right on top of his lap so suddenly you let out a little shriek of surprise. "Trust me, your boyfriend would love nothing more than to fuck you through the mattress."

Your hands rest on his shoulders, and you lower your chest against his, noses brushing each other. "Then what's stopping him?"

Sunghoon's warm breath tickles your lips when he whispers, "Maybe he thinks your pretty little pussy can't take it yet."

A warm feeling travels through your body, settling into your lower abdomen, and just when you think he's gonna kiss you, he pulls back and rests his back on the cushion behind him, sinking further into the soft couch and pulling you down with him.

"Hoon—"

"Mh-mh. You haven't told me what Won's idea was yet."

"You know it." You raise your hand to playfully hit his chest, but he's faster than you are and catches your wrist midway with his injured hand.

"I don't know a damn thing," Sunghoon says as he brings his lips to the back of your hand, letting them brush gently against your soft skin before placing a small peck. "Go on, enlighten me."

You pout, but Sunghoon's set on making you talk, and even though you're stubborn and embarrassed, you know he won't let it go until he's satisfied with your response.

And, the slowly growing hardness under your exposed panties, combined with the residuals of alcohol still buzzing through your system are making it hard for you to stand your ground. Not when Sunghoon looks as good as he does with his bangs messily covering his eyes, and fitted short sleeve highlighting his hard chest underneath the cotton. Unfortunately for you.

You move on his lap, adjusting your position so you can feel more of him through the thin material covering you. You crave the harsh coarseness of his jeans on you, for the heat seeping out of him to envelope you fully. You're on top of him, thighs straddling his, yet you feel the invisible push to be even closer. As close as you physically can be.

Sunghoon sees the hunger in your eyes, he has all this time. He too is barely hanging on by a thread, and the self restraint he's miraculously managed to keep until now is dwindling by the second. All the times you've begged for him, all the times he's fucked your pretty pussy open with different toys, bigger and thicker each time. All the times he's had to take cold showers after seeing the raw need for him to claim you fully reflected in your eyes, even after coaxing orgasm after of orgasm out of you. You're so insatiable, but he might be even worse. Once he gives in, he doesn't think he'll be able to let you go ever.

Sunghoon knows you've felt ready for a long time, and even if he thinks you could use more getting used to bigger sizes before he allows himself to finally sink into you, the temptation gnaws at him all the same.

He just needs a little confirmation.

"Tell me, what was this master plan of yours?" he speaks with his mouth pressed to your palm, softly running his nose down to your wrist, allowing himself to bask in the warmness of the scent you chose for the night.

"Won's, not mine."

"That you willingly agreed to."

"I just… wanted to make you jealous." You finally admit, avoiding Sunghoon's gaze at all costs.

"How so? Wearing this tiny little dress?" His voice is lower, more dangerous. He slides his free hand to grab a handful of your barely covered ass, the skirt having ridden up to your waist almost completely. "You know I like it when the attention's on you. They can look all they want, you're mine." The movement causes you to jerk up against his crotch, earning a low grunt from the man beneath you.

"Tell me, baby," Sunghoon rocks you slowly against his hard bulge, caging his bottom lip between his teeth as he takes in your needy and embarrassed form. "How did you plan to make me jealous? Why?"

Your hand slides down his chest and dips under the thin shirt before caressing just over the waistband of his underwear peeking out of the dark jeans. "I thought it would be a smart idea to drag you along to the get together, and I guess I hoped someone would bring me and Jay up. I know how you feel about it and I wanted to use it to my advantage, but I also didn't consider how you'd feel surrounded by strangers reminding you of all the time you and the guys lost. All the time we lost. You came to make me happy and I was being selfish the entire time. You even got hurt because of me—"

"Not because of you. He should be thankful you were there to stop me or I would've broken his ugly face in."

"Still. I'm so sorry. It was childish."

A beat passes without either of you saying anything, and you twitch uncomfortably in his lap.

"Why?"

Your lip trembles, and your heart sinks at the thought of having angered your angel of a boyfriend. Tears well up in your eyes before you even attempt to explain yourself, but Sunghoon gently angles your chin toward him until you're met with his gaze. It's intense, darker than you've ever seen in all your time knowing him. He searches your face for something, and you realize it's not anger casting shadows behind his eyes. It's pure, unfiltered lust.

"Why did you want me jealous?" His voice is raw, like it pains him to produce a single sound, like whatever you answer him with is the honey that will soothe it.

You twitch again, and this time you're not scared, but your insides twist all the same. He rest heavy and hot under you, and you don't know how you'll handle another rejection if that's what this is leading to.

"I wanted you to fuck me, really fuck me. I hoped it would be enough to push you to the breaking point, Sunghoon.“ You swallow hard, and the saliva in your mouth feels thicker than usual. Maybe it is, maybe you're just more aware of all the sensations within your body. "I need you to break."

It's all Sunghoon needs to hear.

He lurches forward to capture your lips with his, harsh and messy, like an animal that has finally broken out of the restraint keeping it chained. His hands roam all over your body, eager to explore every single inch as if it's the first time he ever does.

You reciprocate him with just as much hunger behind every movement, hands slipping from his body to his hair to pull his head back. You grind your hips against his, moves deliberately slow compared to the feverish kiss. "I need you. I don't wanna wait anymore."

Sunghoon moans into your mouth when you release his hair, and he doubles his efforts, sliding his fingers through the wide gaps of the fishnets covering your thighs, big palms fully working you on top of his bulge.

"You want it so bad, baby?" He says between open mouthed kisses, full lips raw and red from the fight with yours. "I'm gonna give it all to you."

Uncaring for the mess of knocked over stuff you two leave in your wake, from Sunghoon's keys loudly hitting the ground to your heels abandoned somewhere on the carpet, you make your way to his room without ever letting go of each other. All around you is just background noise and things you'll think of later, the only thing that seems to matter is to get in bed and get rid of all the pent up frustration clouding your minds.

The door shuts closed and soon your back hits the bed with a soft thud, Sunghoon's hands heavy on your hips and mouth hot on your neck as he carves a wet path on your sensitive skin, caging you between his hard chest and the mattress. He wraps your leg around his middle, and when your cores touch again, you both sigh in relief.

You've spent all this time on the cusp of finally getting something more, waiting—albeit not so patiently on your part—for the right moment, and now that you both know you're just moments away from it, seconds seem to stretch out into hours and even the slightest teasing feels unbearable.

That's what you think, at least. Because Sunghoon is nothing but a tease at heart, and he has very different plans in store for you.

You take advantage of the little moment of pause to undress yourself, but Sunghoon stops you as soon as he notices what you're trying to do.

"Keep it on," he murmurs along your neck, feeling your pulse quicken right under his full lips. He kisses along your collarbones, to your shoulder, exactly where the strap of your dress rests. His teeth graze the material, and he draws back slightly before letting it snap back into place, the slight sting making you jump just the tiniest bit in his hold. "You wanted to make me jealous in this? Then I'll fuck you in it." He mouths his way back up, until he reaches your ear, teeth gently biting right where he knows it makes shivers spread all over your body. "Next time you wear it, my cock is all you'll be able to think about."

You can't hide the way your body reacts to his words, thighs pressing together from the sheer excitement.

Sunghoon toys with the strings of your fishnets, and for a moment you think you should take them off, but he just rips a hole through them, allowing his hand to finally slide underneath them and grab your ass as harshly as he wants. "These were getting on my nerves."

"I can take them—"

Sunghoon silences you with a kiss, slower than the previous one, calculated and meticulous but every bit as passionate. His teeth sink into your bottom lip until you gasp against his mouth, his tongue gently licking away at your lip to soothe the sting. He pulls your core closer to his, unabashedly moaning into your mouth as he ruts his hips into yours.

The tights start to frustrate you the more he works himself against your panties. You want to be closer, you need to feel him push against you completely, and they're in the way. So once again, you try to rid yourself of them.

Sunghoon keeps you still. "These stay on until I tell you to take them off." His tone is commanding, but not abrasive, muffled by your skin. "Understood?"

You barely nod when suddenly he's bending you at his will like you're his to drag around as he pleases, and while usually you would've fought back just for the sake of it, you play nice this time, doing anything to not have him changes his mind and leave you hanging once again.

He sets you on your knees, facing the headboard of his king sized bed, a sturdy and thick thing, wood carved with elegant loops and twirls all around the edges. They gleam and cast shadows alike when Sunghoon reaches over you to turn on the bedside lamp.

The same hand steadies your hip as he lowers himself onto you, pressing his chest to your back and littering kisses from your temple to your neck. "Aren't you such a cute little thing?" he whispers into your ear, chucking when he feels you shudder under his weight. "So needy and desperate, making up plans just to have my cock in your tight pussy." He's so big, so warm. So strong. It makes your knees weak, and you would crumble on the soft mattress if not for his large hand keeping you still. "Should've just come to me right away, should've begged for my cock like the good girl I know you can be." His other hand starts to travel down your body, and your thighs instinctively spread open to accommodate him.

Pride blooms in Sunghoon's heart. You're so pliant for him, sweetly allowing him to touch you all over, your body responding so well to his slightest touch, to his softest word. The trust you have in him makes his cock harder in his pants, but he's always been a patient man. A man that enjoys taking his time playing with his meal before sinking his teeth into it.

That, and you still have a lesson to learn. "But you've been bad, so bad." He bites your earlobe as his fingers hook onto one of the little holes in your tights, right over your throbbing core, so needy and ready to be claimed by him. You hear a loud rip before you realize what's going on.

His fingers immediately find your panties, slick and stuck to your drooling lips, and he starts touching you over them like all the teasing he's subjected you to until then isn't enough to satisfy him. "You'll make it up to me, yeah? You'll make me proud and happy." He licks along the shell of your ear, and your thighs shake, spreading open once more to coax him into touching you better. "I'll only fuck you when I'm satisfied with how sorry you are."

"Hoon—"

"Don't worry, baby." His fingers dip under the fabric, finally really touching you for the first time that night. He slides two fingers between your lips to coat them in your juices as he keeps talking to you in a tone that almost seems belittling, the pout in his voice too heavy and pronounced for it to be honest. "I'll make it worth it. All the time we waited will be worth it. I just have to get you nice and ready, dripping for me."

You have half a mind to turn around and fight him, because you don't understand how you could physically get wetter even if you wanted to be patient and take it. "I'm already wet," you say, and it comes out a little harsher than you intend for it to.

"Look at you," Sunghoon mocks you, the bite in your response only making him chuckle lowly in your ear, the vibrations from the sound make wetness pool on his digits, much to his amusement. "Can't keep the brattiness in check even when you should feel sorry. How can I take your apologies seriously?"

You open your mouth to answer, but his fingers pinch your clit before you get a single word out, replaced by a shriek that sounds something right in between pleasure and pain.

"Less talking." Sunghoon doesn't stop or lessen his touch on your poor sensitive bundle of nerves. Instead, he rolls it between his fingers, coaxing loud moans out of you with every single movement. "More of this."

The bed creaks under Sunghoon's knees as he detaches from your already quivering form and gets up to grab something. You complain with a little whine at the sudden loss, but just a quick glance in his direction tells you to stay still and be patient.

"Where's your phone?" Sunghoon asks. It sounds a lot more like an order.

"My… huh? My phone?"

"Your phone. Where is it?"

You gawk at him for a second, still in the same position despite the dull ache in your knees slowly but surely setting in, your mouth agape as you try to rack your brain for an explanation as to why the fuck Sunghoon needs your phone since he doesn't seem to be planning on offering you one. "In my bag. On the couch, I think."

It's only a few seconds before your boyfriend returns with your phone in his hand, and throws it carelessly on the bed next to you. He returns to his previous position, the warmth radiating from his body soothing you even when you don't know what to expect next.

You'd be lying if you said you don't enjoy this stricter version of your ever so loving and doting boyfriend, thighs clenching at the thought of the danger lurking behind his sweet demeanor.

"Unlock your phone and open Jay's chat." Sunghoon's calm facade is completely gone, replaced by pure fire.

"What?"

"You heard me." His grip on your thighs tightens, possessive and angry. "You're gonna open Jay's chat and record while I fuck your pussy with my fingers, and you'll have him hear how good I make you feel."

You're breathless, adrenaline pumping through your system and ears ringing at the thought of doing something so obscene, with one of your best friends on the other end of it no less. "Hoon, Jay didn't have anything to do with this… we shouldn't—"

"I don't care." Sunghoon bites your neck, sharp canines poking you just enough to elicit a gasp out of you. "You'll do as I say and tell him you won't ever go back."

He sounds so possessive, so unlike any version of him you have experienced, and just this little taste has you obsessed. You love the soft spoken, big sweetheart he always is, and you love the sleeping beast hidden just beneath the surface too. You love the anticipation of what's to come, not knowing which side of Sunghoon you're gonna get.

Your hand trembles as you reach for the phone, his is sure and steady as it makes its descent down to your wet pussy again. Sunghoon takes his time, letting his fingers ghost on your thighs for a little before sliding the panties off of you. You hear him moan behind you, and you're glad you don't get to see what you suspect is him licking off the wetness off the fabric he just rid you of. That would be way too much for you in the moment, you think.

The Jongie <3 contact in your favorites section seems so silly now that you're mere seconds away from letting him hear how your boyfriend fucks you, so you take a few deep breaths in preparation. As if sensing your hesitation, Sunghoon quickly places a gentle kiss to your temple, and just like that, he's back to his caring self. "You said you're sorry, baby. You should show me, but you don't have to."

You press the voice message recording button moments later, heart thrumming loudly in your ears as you slide your finger up so it keeps recording hands free.

"Such a brave girl. So, so good for me." Sunghoon praises you, and it soothes some of the anxiety you feel, his tone thick and sweet as honey, you barely recognize it as the same one that was giving you harsh commands earlier.

The downright filthy sound of Sunghoon's digits spreading your pussy lips open has you cowering in embarrassment, but your boyfriend doesn't care. He needs Jay to hear how absolutely soaked you are. He wastes no time, pushing in three fingers inside you.

Your mouth is hung open in a silent moan, eyebrows knit together and eyes closed, taking a moment to adjust to the sudden sensation. It stings, even when you're so wet it's dripping down your thighs by now, but his fingers are so long and thick the initial stretch is always uncomfortable, despite all the training.

Sunghoon doesn't like that, so he gives you no time, no warning, and just starts pumping in and out of you, curling the tips just like he does when you're about to cum and need the tiniest push. He's unfair, so unfair, because how are you supposed to keep your sounds down like you planned to when he's finger fucking you like it's his life mission to have you come undone in record time?

You don't know if it's an ego thing, or he just wants to make your punishment that much harder. It must be both, because within seconds you're moaning and gasping out in pleasure for him and Jay so beautifully, really putting on a show for the both of them. But it's so hard to focus and remember what you're supposed to say, and the longer the voice message is, the more mortified you'll be in the morning.

For now, satisfying Sunghoon's thirst for punishment and placating the jealousy you yourself caused is your top priority. You'll think about the consequences another time.

"Aren't you gonna say hi? Where are your manners?" Sunghoon's mouth drops to your ear, the movement of his fingers inside of your cunt relentless and not giving you a single second to breathe properly. It doesn't matter to him, how much harder he's making for you to accomplish your task. He basks in it, even. He's proud of how just his fingers are enough to turn you dumb with pleasure.

"I—mh," you try your best to muffle the moans cascading from your lips, to no avail. Even if you managed to do so, the incredibly loud squelching noises in the background would betray you.

"Need a hand?" he laughs dryly, and you feel the faint presence of a fourth finger next to the other three, waiting to slide in and stretch you open further.

"Hoon!" you gasp in surprise.

"That's right, baby. That's who you belong to. Tell Jay."

"I—I belong to—Hoon! I can't!"

His fourth digit keeps prodding around to find a possible entrance, but you're already so full you think any more would actually break you. "How do you plan to let me fuck you, then?"

He's teasing you. You both know you can and you will. It's just a matter of taking it slowly. His finger is suddenly not trying to inch inside you anymore, despite how lost you both are in the moment, your comfort comes first always. It just means Sunghoon will find another way.

He speaks lowly against your ear, but it's enough for your phone to pick it up clearly, "Once I'll split you open on my cock like you've been begging for, nothing else will ever satisfy you. No one else will. Once I claim your little hole, it's mine. Jay's seen how big I am. He knows it too. Tell him whose pussy I'm about to split open."

"Mine." You gasp at a particularly harsh thrust.

"No. Mine." The sheer command in his voice makes you clench even more around his fingers, as if the fit isn't already tight enough. "Try again."

"Yours! It's yours."

"Good fucking girl." He moans against you, his hot breath rising goose bumps all over your skin. "Tell him you'll never go back to him," he adds after a moment, quieter.

The pace he is fingering you at slows down just enough so you can actually get a coherent sentence out, and you're silently grateful for this little show of mercifulness on Sunghoon's part. If not for this, the voice mail would probably end up being an hour long.

"I'll never—mh. Go back to you."

"Good. So good. Now tell him how happy you are with me, happier than you ever were with him. Tell him you love me," he rasps, high on the reassurance you're providing him. High on how obedient you are for him.

"Love Hoon so much, I love him. I love him so so much. Hoon, please." You're a mess, dripping down onto the bedsheets and clamping around his fingers so hard any more would probably cut Sunghoon's blood flow. The more you grip him, the wider you spread your thighs to accommodate him, like you're silently begging for him to be harsher. He has half a mind to fulfill your body's wordless plea.

"Look at you, spreading your pretty legs for me. You like it when I talk to you like this? Does it make your little pussy wetter?"

You're so tight, so wet, and Sunghoon is so impossibly hard. He could cum right there just thinking about how good you'll feel wrapped around him, walls convulsing and milking him for all he's worth with every orgasm he gives you. For every orgasm you bless him with.

A sight for sore eyes, one Jay will never see nor hear. Because as soon as he can sense you climbing up your high, getting so close, your walls fluttering against his curled up digits in preparation and juices plentifully seeping out of you, he grabs your phone and ends the recording himself.

Sunghoon moves, and suddenly you miss the weight of his chest pressing into your back, but the pace of his fingers inside you slows down again. You wail as you feel the climax you were so close to dissipate, and suddenly you feel like invisible ropes are keeping your front tied to the bed. Your back gives in under the pressure, arching in ways that should be uncomfortable but it's the only outlet other than the plentiful sounds being pushed out of you your body has to ground itself in the midst of all the pleasure.

The loneliness your heart feels whenever he deprives you of his body heat for as much as a few seconds has tiny broken sobs and whines lurch out of your throat, but like every single time, Sunghoon is there to soothe you. "I know, baby, I know. Just let me help you feel good. Yeah?"

Even when you're supposedly being punished, he can't help but go a little easy on you, his gorgeous angel. His spoiled baby. But it's okay, because you did such a good job, listened and obeyed to his every command.

Sunghoon's warm breath tickles the skin of your bottom, and his nose brushes up from your mid thigh to your ass, giving you a playful yet gentle bite on the plushy skin. Air gets stuck in your throat in anticipation, but like every single thing he does, he takes his time in savoring all the moments leading up to finally get your sweet taste to coat his tongue like he's craved for this entire time.

You're twitchy and so responsive in his hold, and Sunghoon is enamored with the sight of your fluttering walls trying their best to suck his thick digits in even more. Greedy little cunt for a spoiled little girl. A perfect match.

He watches intently how you react to every single thrust of his fingers inside you, how your knees shake and body flops forward when he bends the tips in just the right direction when you least expect it. He pushes in deeper, and deeper, until you're gushing on his palm, your essence dripping down his wrist and a few droplets down to his elbow too. He registers your every moan, every beg for more, imprints all your sounds in his memory like they're the dearest ones he's ever made.

Sunghoon remembers all your reactions from times you'd consider unimportant, from the little moan when you first bite into anything he's cooked—whether you really like it not—to the way your leg bounces when following the rhythm of a song you said you despised because they played it on the radio too often, to the way your eyebrow twitches when he mentions a name you haven't heard before.

When you catch him with that sweet look in his eyes, staring at you with a toothy grin and canines peeking out, it's because he's watching you and storing everything in his mind, no matter how mundane, no matter how dumb, no matter how silly. It's a no brainer he'd do this in times like these too, even when he's witnessed you come undone under his gaze plenty of times, he doesn't want to miss a single one.

It's not really about learning what brings you pleasure faster and what prolongs it, he's familiar with all of that already, Sunghoon just happens to really enjoy watching you, even if you think it's the most embarrassing thing in the world.

So he does exactly that, inspects you carefully as he keeps fucking you open with his fingers, taking guesses about how hard or deep he should make his pumps, pride blooming in his chest—and cock throbbing in his pants—when you react exactly like he expects. While usually he watches you with a lovesick smile, the grin on his face and fiery glint behind his eyes are different now, hungrier and needier, but every bit as obsessed.

Because that's exactly what Sunghoon is, deeply and unashamedly obsessed with you.

He builds your orgasm up again, brick by brick, flick of his wrist by flick of his wrist, until you're quivering and shaking and begging him to not take it away this time.

"Please," you moan, hand clenching onto the bedsheets beside you so hard you'll be shocked if by the end there won't be a hole ripped in them. "I'm so close."

Sunghoon notices how you hold onto your orgasm, waiting for his approval. It makes his hips twitch forward involuntary, eager to please and eager to give you anything you want. "I got you baby, let go. Let me hear the pretty sounds you make when you cum for me."

It's all it takes for the coil in your stomach to completely snap, and the second your warm walls flutter around Sunghoon's fingers for the first time, you feel a sense of emptiness that lasts only a moment, before you're full again. It's not as thick, shorter but so much wetter, and through the thick fog clouding your mind as your body is overtaken by uncontrollable shivers spreading from your core to every extremity of your body, you realize he just replaced his fingers with his tongue.

Another lightning strike shoots right through you, head to feet, as Sunghoon keeps fucking you through your orgasm with his tongue. You're still fluttering around it and releasing all of your juices right into his awaiting mouth when the ringing in your ears slowly fades, replaced by the downright obscene sounds of Sunghoon slurping up all he can get out of you. It's messy and nasty, the lower half of his face completely coated in your essence but he doesn't care. He wants more.

He moans into your pussy like he's the one being pleasured, and once that single second of bliss between fully coming down from an orgasm and overstimulation setting in goes by, he pulls you in closer when you start moving too much. You're still too sensitive, but if Sunghoon thinks you're greedy, you have to realize he's even worse. Feeling the dull throbbing of your walls as you come around his tongue one time just isn't enough. If it were up to him, he'd have you wet his mouth again and again until you physically can't withstand any more. Until you're barely coherent and slipping into a peaceful sleep, completely tired out.

Sunghoon grabs a handful of your ass with his still dripping hand as he licks a stripe down from your hole into your lips, spreading them open with his tongue to find your clit, throbbing and raw from your previous orgasm. He rolls it between his lips, toys with it with his tongue, uncaring for the way your body pushes away from his mouth. After all the begging you did, you have no business running from it, if you ask him.

"Stay still," he growls into you, both of his hands tied together on your lower back as he fully pushes you down on the mattress with his strength, leaving you nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. He nuzzles his face into you, enveloping all he can get with his warm mouth, sighing and groaning contently with every bit of wetness you gush right on his tongue.

He explores every inch of you, every nook and cranny he can get into, cleaning you up with each lick and wetting you even more with every other. "So fucking good," he moans into you, dragging you back against him when you think you can't physically be closer, when the tip of his nose pushes into your hole and when the only way he has to breathe is through his mouth which is full of you. He pants and gasps against your cunt so much you fear he might suffocate himself just to not come up for air a single time.

Your own face is pushed against the bed, mouth biting down on the cotton fabric beneath you to ground yourself in the immense cloud of pleasure Sunghoon is giving you. He's so lost in your taste he doesn't even remind you to not muffle your sounds, the only thing in his mind is to have you come undone on his mouth once more.

Sunghoon knows he's close to his goal when your little pained whines start turning into longer, more drawn out moans, when you stop running away from his tongue and instead start thrusting yourself back into his hold, back into his mouth. All your senses are ablaze, nerve endings lit and confused but so pleased at the same time. You yourself don't know when the it stopped hurting and became that dull, impending feeling of almost there to something more that both maddens you and keeps you hooked, but you roll your hips anyway in search of just the little nudge in the right direction your body violently craves.

Like always, Sunghoon knows exactly what you need.

"Go on, baby. Touch your little clit for me." His voice is full and rich of that low gravel you barely get to hear, but that has tingles run down your body when you do. "Help me make you cum." Sunghoon lets his tongue run back up from your clit to your slit again, inching closer to your throbbing hole as you let a hand sneak under your body to your pussy, immediately finding your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You're so drenched by now you don't need to wet your hand before drawing circles all over it, dragging it in all the directions you know have your toes curl. Sunghoon likes it messy though, so he gathers a glob of spit and loudly releases it on your cunt, the position making it dribble down right where your hand is working to bring you closer to your peak.

The onslaught of wetness pooling down only adds to the already embarrassingly loud noises coming from your cunt, and you're so wet, your own fingers slip a few times. It doesn't help that your arm shakes under you even when pinned down by your entire body weight when Sunghoon shoves his entire tongue down your hole again, using both of his hands on your lower back to move you so you're fucking his muscle as if it were a toy. His nose drags on your perineum with every movement of your bottom half against his face, and under any other circumstance you'd be mortified, but Sunghoon has a way of soothing you in the most embarrassing situations without really having to do anything but be there with you, like nothing matters in the grand scheme of things when his body is heating yours.

You speed your movements up to match the pace he sets, and with every thrust of his tongue combined with every flick of your wrist, you feel the band in your lower tummy stretch and warm up, until your sight turns searing white and warmth envelops your body from your core to all your limbs in rhythmic waves, first every other second, and then gradually slowing down.

You release on Sunghoon's tongue, and he wastes no time, gulping down all he can manage to, moaning into your heat like he's tasting the most divine nectar. You can't see it as you're busy catching your breath and slowing down your heartbeat as the rush of pleasure dissipates into a calmer buzzing felt all over your body, but Sunghoon's eyebrows crease in the middle, his eyes closed as he commits the taste of your cum to his memory, right beside all the indecent bits of you he treasures in his mind.

Sunghoon pulls his tongue out of you, already missing the way you flutter against it when you come undone, and leaves a trail of pecks all over your bottom, first on the plush of your ass still kept up by his strong hold despite you having completely given up on keeping yourself upright long ago, then all over your thighs, switching from one to the other as he runs a reassuring hand all over your skin, wordlessly soothing you. His palms are big and thick on your thighs as he moves to wrap his hands to the front, steadying you one last time to capture your clit in a gentle suckle, just enough to have your body convulse in overstimulation, but too tired and spent to fight back.

He pulls off of you with a pop after hollowing his cheeks around it one last time. "Did so good for me, baby. You're so perfect."

Without Sunghoon's hands keeping you up, you slump on the bed, completely this time, groaning when the burn in your lower body fully sets in now that you can move it again. It's dull and persistent, and especially fiery right where Sunghoon's hands stayed locked for most of it.

"You okay, pretty? Was I too rough?" He sounds concerned when you take longer than usual to regain your strength, his hands immediately roaming all over your body to massage any sore spot. His touch is light like a breeze but welcome like the sun on a spring day, warming up all the knots in your muscles. The dangerous edge seems to have completely evaporated, only leaving your sweet boyfriend behind. In the moment, it's exactly what you need.

You give him a vague sound of approval in response, but you know it's not enough for him when he gently maneuvers your body around to face him, holding you so carefully one would think him scared of damaging you.

The warm light shining from the night stand casts shadows on his face, but the slight concern etched on his features is bright as day. It's an intimate moment, and you'd giggle because of the sheer difference in his behavior if you had the energy to do so. Instead, you reach for his hand. The same hand that held a bruising grip on you just moments before, the same hand that hit the man who disrespected you.

Sunghoon returns you touch right away, locking your fingers with his as if second nature. You place a featherlight kiss on them, allowing your lips to linger on his salty skin as you speak. "I'm great. Perfect even." It comes out a little raspy, like you haven't fully caught your breath yet, but it's a start.

"Yeah. You are."

"And you? You doing okay?"

Sunghoon gifts you one of his cannot-possibly-contain-it smiles, the ones where he looks down for a split second as his eyes crinkle and somehow smile wider than his lips do. Your favorite kind of Sunghoon Smiles you'd say in the moment, though if you were to compile a list they would all be in the number one spot.

"Perfect, even."

"Hey, that's my line—" you start, but Sunghoon finishes your sentence for you.

"—Don't steal it."

You hum, the taste of skin still on your lips as you bask in the moment for a little, neither of you daring to break the peaceful quiet that wraps like a fuzzy blanket around you. Sunghoon flinches just the tiniest bit when your fingers graze the bandaged scratches, making you ease up your hold on his hand. He immediately squeezes yours to tell you it's okay.

"You know," you say after you let the silence linger for a few more seconds, only your heartbeats and shallow breaths filling the air in the dimly lit room. "You look really hot when you're mad."

Fits of giggles pour in the almost nonexistent space between you—first Sunghoon's, yours following suit.

"I must look super hot when I'm jealous then," he says with that teasing edge in his tone you're all too familiar with. He dips down to catch your lips in a slow kiss, suckling on your bottom lip gently, the corners of his mouth still raised. He hasn't stopped smiling once.

"Absolutely," you say before Sunghoon pecks you again, and then keeps doing it as you try to continue. "And when you're happy—" another peck. "And when you're bored." Another peck. "And when you're—sorry if I say this but you look like a cute kicked puppy—sad.

"So you're gonna keep finding ways to make me jealous, I assume."

It's not meant to be a jab, you know he's being playful. But it stings you just in the right way, and suddenly you're in the passenger seat of Sunghoon's black Bentley again, worrying about having hurt his feelings past redemption.

Like all things you, Sunghoon catches it right away.

"Hey there, it's okay. I'm not upset, baby." Sunghoon's hands are secure around your hips, his thumb running soothing circles on your skin while your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer because it's simply never enough.

"You should be. You're too nice."

Sunghoon presses his lips on your fluttering lashes. "You being a little brat is nothing new. I think I know how to handle you pretty well, don't I?" His breath, minty but also vaguely bitter from the beer still, warms your cheekbone. Sunghoon's proximity to you is intoxicating in ways no amount of alcohol could ever be, and you hate beer, but god, what wouldn't you do to taste it off of his lips for the rest of your life.

Whoever is up there must be gracious because your prayers are answered the very next second, with Sunghoon ghosting his lips on yours, looking at you with tenfold the intensity and fire from earlier, like someone drenched the space behind his eyes with gasoline and lit it up without you noticing it. The switch is so sudden, and by now you should be used to this, but you don't think you ever will. Not when your boyfriend is looking at you like he might devour you whole any moment, and you'd let him. You'd love to let him.

"Act out all you want," Sunghoon says, voice dripping in possessiveness, right against your awaiting mouth. You want to swallow every last bit of it. "Go out there in short little skirts barely covering your ass. Make up all the silly plans you want, even ones where Jay's involved. Let everyone get a good look at you because that's all they'll ever fucking get." His hand reaches for your inner thigh, then folds it to give himself better access. His bulge is heavy and hard against your bare core, the weight of it enough to have you shiver and mewl, but when Sunghoon starts grinding his hips into yours, the noises spill out of you like you have no control over them. "At the end of the night, after you've had your fun, you'll always come back to me. In my bed, soaking my pants with your little pussy because you only get wet like this for me."

It's embarrassing how fast you feel like you could come again, but Sunghoon's hard thickness slides so perfectly over your folds even through the fabric, and the harshness of his jeans catches your clit every so often in such a delicious way. His pants are soaked through in your essence, both of you moaning and panting in each other's mouths so messily you don't even know if it could be classifies as a kiss or a mere exchange of spit.

"You're mine," Sunghoon rasps, like his life depends on it. He fumbles with his pants, depriving you of the mouth watering friction. You make a few noises of complaints, but his teeth are quick to sink into your bottom lip to silence them. "A spoiled little brat. But mine."

The heaviness of him finds your dripping core again, this time so much warmer, only his underwear separating your most sensitive parts from touching. It's the closest you've ever been to feeling his cock on you, and it's overwhelming. Electricity shocks run through your body when he starts moving his pelvis against you, completely coating the already damp material with the mix of your arousal and release. He's not unaffected—his own precum shows up right where the little slit in his tip is, the fabric of the boxers a darker shade of gray there.

"Mine to love, mine to discipline, mine to train. Mine." You don't know wether the hoarseness coming from his throat is due to the anything but proper activity you two are partaking in or simply the raw need for you to really let his words sink in, but the effect it has on you is clear. The proof is right where your cores meet.

You tentatively roll your hips into his, movements emboldening when you earn a few low grunts from him.

"This pussy is gonna be mine too now. Mine to worship and please. Mine to fuck open like she never has been before. I'm gonna ruin you for everyone else. You want that, right?"

You nod frantically, your hips running after Sunghoon's in a relentless chase, like they have a mind of their own.

"Say it. Say you want me to ruin your little hole."

"Ruin it—Hoon, please."

His hips falter when he hears just how desperate you sound, his eyebrows scrunched up in the middle and you can tell he's biting down on his tongue to ground himself. It only encourages you.

You reach for his boxers, wrapping your hand around the outline of his bulge and trying to contain your facial expressions at the reminder of just how ridiculously large he is. You squeeze it with your palm, his eyelids fluttering closed and his chest heaving from your touch alone. You try not to think too much about how outrageously wet the fabric is, all thanks to you. "Please, I need to feel you inside," you beg, arms pushing your tits—now basically spilling out of your dress—together and looking up at him with the most innocent doe eyed expression you can muster up.

Sunghoon's jaw leaps, and you feel like under a microscope as he watches you. "Little minx you are." He reaches for the first drawer of his night stand, rummaging though it quickly before pulling a tiny bottle out of it. It's lube.

"I don't need—"

Sunghoon silences you by spitting right on your pussy, your complaint turning into a whimper at the contact. "You do, baby. You need all the help you can get." Complaining more will get you nowhere but tucked into bed, still needy, horny and with a wet pussy, so you decide to play your cards cleverly and let him do his thing.

You paw at his boxers, fingers dipping into the waistband and trying to tug them down to get to the prize hidden behind. You spread your legs open even more as Sunghoon rips a larger hole into your tights, the veins running down his arms slightly bulging from the effort.

The sudden coldness of the lube dripping down on your puffy folds surprises you enough to rip a little yelp out of you, and Sunghoon's wide palms find their rightful place on your thighs, pushing them against your hips and lower stomach. He takes a good look at your cunt, spreading you open to his liking and leaving no inch of your skin hidden from his sight. "Such a pretty pussy." Your joints still ache and burn from all the exertion they already endured, but Sunghoon's words are like a soothing balm for your body and mind. "Prettiest cunt in the whole fucking world, all wet and ready for me to fuck."

You finally manage to free his cock fully, despite his filthy words sending waves of weakness through your body, and immediately wrap your palm around the middle, mouth watering when your thumb doesn't reach your other fingers. Not only is it way longer than average, it's also thick beyond comprehension, perfectly curved to hit all the right spots in you and so fucking veiny you can feel more slick pour out of you in anticipation. You quite literally cannot stop gawking at it, trying to move your hand up to his tip, just as thick if not thicker than the base, and you gulp as you watch beads of semi transparent liquid pour out of it.

"What is it, baby?" Sunghoon asks, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tries to not buck his hips into your hand. "We can stop if you want."

"No!" Your grip around him tightens, earning a gasp and a shallow thrust from him. Your thumb swipes over the head to spread his need all over, making it easier for you to slowly jerk him off. "Please," you add, quieter, afraid he might take the opportunity away from you.

The sight of you laying down so prettily with your much smaller hand enveloping his length, has all the blood in Sunghoon's body rush straight to his groin. He could cum at any moment, just from having you right in front of him like this, but he's set on making it worth the wait.

"You're so fucking hot like this." His hand finds your cunt again, fingers spreading your folds open so he can take a good look at the sensitive bud he loves so much, finding it so swollen he wishes to just bend down and suck on it again.

Once the lube fully coats his digits, he brings them down to your hole again, prodding it just enough to make sure it's slick with the cold essence. He squirts more of it right onto his cock while you keep fisting him as best as you can, spreading the lube all over it until all that can be heard in the room is the loud squelching noises and both of your heavy pants and low groans. His fingers keep rubbing your folds, coaxing more of your own arousal out of you, the feeling so distracting the pace you set on his cock falters a bit. To compensate, you add your other hand too, milking him with both at the same time.

"Fuck yeah, just like that," Sunghoon moans, and he looks divine above you with his lip caught between his teeth, gaze flickering from where his hips have started fucking into your fists, to where his fingers are playing with your pussy, like he cannot decide which view is best.

His cock throbs in your hands every time your hold tightens or your movements get faster, and you're stuck watching every reaction. His chest heaves, sometimes he looks like he forgets to breathe and then he has to make up for it. His cheeks are flushed, and when you notice how his bangs are sticking to his forehead because of the sweat accumulating on his hairline, you suspect he might be close.

"Gonna come?" you ask, battling your lashes at him, hoping he'll do just that from your hands alone. That's enough to wake him from his daze, and you almost regret asking when he breaks free from your hold and stops playing with your pussy.

The disappointment is short lived, because without wasting any time, Sunghoon brings your legs close together around his cock and sets both of your feet on one of his shoulders. He fucks your thighs just like that, with slow thrusts, making sure to slide his cock between your folds and let you feel every single vein running down his length. "You'd love that wouldn't you? Me coming all over your pussy. You're so fucking messy."

The shirt still covering his torso leaves close to nothing to the imagination now, clinging to every ridge of his abs and chest because of the sweat, and you're basically drooling at the sight. The feeling of Sunghoon's cock between your thighs and on your cunt is too much for you already, clit throbbing with need every time his tip catches on it, balls pushing against your hole every now and then, but you make the mistake of looking down when his thrusts get faster, and the view you're met with has you absolutely obsessed.

The head of Sunghoon's cock peeks out from your thighs every time his hips move forward, red and leaking so fucking much on your lower tummy it looks like he's cumming all over you already. But then it just keeps going, reaching close to your belly button, and when his head rests right on it, your mouth goes slack. It's one thing to see how big he is normally, but to have it compared directly against you, it makes the room spin in circles and your body feel even weaker. You need him inside you now.

"You like the view, baby? That's how deep I'm gonna be inside you, how deep I'll be fucking you," Sunghoon laughs, a little manically, and you hate how much it turns you on, like you need to be any more than you already are. "You'll feel me riiight here." He stops his thrusts to tap his cock on your stomach, the sounds of the tiny slaps reverberating through the room. "All up in your guts."

You gasp out his name when his hips go back to working his cock between your thighs, in an attempt to get his attention, but he already knows what you want.

"I know, baby. I know. Just a little more I promise." His gaze flicks up to meet yours, watching you intently for any sign of discomfort, any indication that you might want to stop. He knows it's unlikely—Hell, he's sure you were about to beg him to fuck you for the nth time that night just now—but he needs you to be absolutely sure. The weight on his chest, the slightest hint of uneasiness looming over him despite all the excitement fades in the background when all he finds on your face is pure lust, unfiltered need for him.

The pace slows down a little, and Sunghoon keeps eye contact with you as he speaks with his full lips brushing the skin of your ankle, giving you a few kisses there to ease up any anxiety you might feel. "Are you sure, pretty? We can wait a bit more. We don't have to—"

"Hoon. For the love of God just put it in or i might actually die within the next two minutes."

An amused wheeze tickles your skin, followed by a gentle nibble right where his lips kissed you. He rests your legs back down while he still kneels on the bed "Alright, alright."

He's spent all this time preparing you, telling you to take it slow for your own well being, but as you watch the way his eyes hesitantly shift focus around your body, you think maybe he's not the one ready yet. "Hoon?" you catch his attention, voice meek but it's like music to his ears, always.

Sunghoon hums in acknowledgement, but he looks deep in thought. His thumb follows the ridge of your jaw to your chin, then swipes over it a few times as if to encourage you to continue.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Had a change of heart? Weren't you just about to die a few seconds ago?"

"I'm asking you."

He exhales, then bends down to place a soft kiss right on your parted lips. "Of course I'm sure. I'm just…" He trails off, but you already know what he's thinking.

"You won't hurt me," you say, keeping eye contact to really get the point across. "Besides, even if you did. I'd enjoy it a bit."

The corner of his lips lift up, and you know you've finally cracked through him. "I suppose you would."

His elbow rests by your head, while his other hand grabs his cock and gives it a few pumps in preparation—not that he needs it, Sunghoon doesn't think he's ever been this goddamn hard in his entire life. "Give me a few taps anywhere if you want me to stop, if it helps you can bite me when it hurts." He positions himself, hand still guiding his tip to your leaking entrance, but doesn't push in just yet. "Where should I cum?"

You're about to lose your mind, hips slowly rolling against his tip to try to coax it inside of you and he's still talking instead of doing something about it. "Huh?"

"Where do you want my cum baby? You won't be able to talk when I'm fucking you."

The sheer seriousness in his tone has shivers run down your spine, but you don't dwell on it too long. "Inside. Anywhere you want just please—Oh my god."

The sting of his tip slowly pushing in stops you from finishing your sentence. It's a mild discomfort for now, but the feeling of it stretching you open is better than any of the toys you and Sunghoon experimented with could've ever provided. He's just getting started, but your mouth is already ajar, and more wetness seeps out of you when your boyfriend rewards you with the most beautiful moan you've ever heard.

"God, it's like she's begging me to slam all the way in." His thumb swipes over your clit in circular motions to help you ease up so the first few inches aren't too harsh on your poor drooling pussy, and even though the tip isn't even the entire way in, the sight of his cock slowly disappearing inside your heat quickly shoots up to his favorite spot. "Deep breaths baby, remember what I taught you—No, don't tense up, it's okay. You've got this."

Your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head, pleasure and discomfort blending into one slowly as he waits for you to adjust. How are you supposed to not clench around him when he's encouraging you like this? It's beyond you.

Your hand shoots to grab Sunghoon's muscular biceps when he starts moving again, and he stills right away, waiting with bated breath for the taps to come.

They don't.

"Is it all in yet?" you ask, because truly, you feel so fucking full already, fuller than you have ever been. But the amused look on Sunghoon's face tells you exactly what you need to know.

"I mean." He moves a little more, and the burning—even if eased up a bit by all the juices and lube coating both of you—resumes. "A little more than the tip is."

"The tip?"

"The tip." Sunghoon thrusts out gently before pushing in again, both of you moaning at the same time. "I can fuck you with just that, it's enough to make you come harder than you ever have." He doesn't wait for you to tell him what to do, opting to give you shallow thrusts to test the waters, his thumb never parting from your clit.

The way you shudder and the little sweet sounds you make because of his tip alone has his stomach knot in all kinds of ways and his cock leap and throb so much it fucking hurts. Sunghoon would want nothing more than to shove it in and claim you fully, mold your pussy around his girth so perfectly no one else would ever be able to give you a cock half as good as his—like he would let that happen in the first place.

You're writhing under him, legs kicking a little when he feels the slide in and out slowly get more comfortable and slippier. That doesn't mean you're not clenching around him so hard he could cum at any given moment, but for your own pleasure—and his, really. He wants to shoot his load as deep as he possibly can—he tries to hold off to the best of his capabilities.

But fuck if it's not the hardest thing he's ever tried to do.

He almost breaks when your own hand reaches down for the one working on your pussy, smaller palm attempting to cover the back of his and to coax it into moving faster. There's a bit of drool on the corner of your lips, and you look so wrecked already, Sunghoon hates how a shiver runs down his spine at the mere thought of how you'll look like when he's balls deep inside you. "Hoon—fuck. I want more."

He coos at you, pretending he's not a wreck himself, pretending the thread thin sliver of sanity he has left isn't the only thing preventing him to fold your legs all the way up to your chest and fuck you into oblivion, but the arm next to your head shakes with restraint, and the knuckles on his fist are ghostly white by now, even if you're too blissed out to pay attention. His voice is shaky, uneven, but his words are careful and patient, even when you'd rather them not be. "We gotta get your pretty parts used to it first baby, come like this just once, it's only the last stretch."

Your whines turn into moans when his movements on your clit fasten and his tip nudges inside you a little deeper, just enough to momentarily satisfy your craving for more.

"Aren't you a greedy little thing," Sunghoon rasps, holding back his own impending orgasm with all his strength, beads of sweat now rolling down his neck deliciously, and you kinda wish you could bend forward and lick them off of him. "Asking for more, and more, and more after the stunt you pulled today. My pretty baby," his thumb pushes more forcefully on your bud, making it hurt so good for a second as you adjust to the pressure, then giving you harsher drags, meant to have you come undone and quivering under him in no time. "So desperate for cock you just had to go ahead and try to make me jealous. You like it when I'm jealous?"

You gasp, nodding frantically as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach tighten more and more, an embarrassing amount of slick pouring out of you and running downwards.

"You're so fucking lucky this is the first time we do this," his voice is rough, an octave lower than usual. "Or I would've bent you over and fucked you so silly the second we got home without stretching your pretty pussy open. But I'm so kind. Thank me for it."

You clench hard around him at his words, toes bending because you don't know what else to do with all the pleasure coursing through you, and he gives a gorgeous deep groan in response. "I'm gonna—"

"Then thank me for it."

You come around him hard, harder than you ever have, thank you's pouring out of your lips like a broken prayer, entire body shaking head to toe from the intense orgasm. The buzz in your ears persists for a while as you try to come down from it, and you can see but it feels like you can't, like your brain isn't registering any of the images your eyes capture. Bright, static, dark spots, so many things at once. It feels like you blacked out for a second even if you didn't, all your senses dulled to make space for all the other sensations your climax provides.

When you slowly start to regain power over them, you're met with the sight of Sunghoon panting like a dog, eyes closed and fist wrapped around his cock, the head poking out and redder than you've ever seen it, looking like he just ran a fucking marathon. Somehow, he managed not to cum. He was so close though, so close he had to pull out the second your walls started to involuntary flutter around him or he would've been done for.

The tight black shirt is still clinging to him like a second skin, and the first coherent thought of yours after the fog around brain clears is to get him out of it as soon as you can. You tug at the hem, still panting and blood buzzing from the release. "Off."

Sunghoon doesn't answer you with words, but he rips the shirt off his torso, throwing it somewhere on the floor behind him. His hands are shaky as they travel from your waist to your hips, then reaching your thighs, spreading you open further in front of him and allowing him to take a look at the big mess you—both of you, really—made. Sunghoon's cock is rock hard, tip oozing enough precum to make all the prep you've endured so far pointless. (Not really, you know better than that.)

Sunghoon goes back to nudging his tip on your hole, just holding it there without pushing in quite yet, casting a last questioning glance your way because he needs the reassurance that you're okay with this one last time before he fully commits.

When you nod, he slowly eases himself back into you with a low moan accompanying the motion, this time his gaze holding yours. The face you make as his tip stretches you open makes it a hundred times harder for him to keep his chill, wanting nothing more than to say fuck it and pound you stupid like you've been begging him to do ever since things first got handsy between you two.

The burn isn't nearly as bad as it was the first time, leaving space for so much more pleasure to course right through you, and you can't help the relieved sigh that leaves you when his tip is fully back inside you again, like it's a need for you to be filled by it. And Sunghoon sees that. He sees the fire in your eyes, the greediness slowly pooling behind those pupils he loves so much, how your hips look for his even if taking any more in hurts.

His hips jerk forward more than he intends them to, but he can't help it, not when you're looking at him like he's the prey. More of your wetness coats him, and both of you loudly moan into the night.

"You feel so fucking good, baby," Sunghoon whines, actual tears filling his waterline because he can't believe how much you're gripping him, pussy fluttering around his girth with every little bit he pushes forward, welcoming him like no one has ever done. "Tightest little pussy ever."

The hold on your thighs is bruising, but it helps you stay at least a little grounded so you wouldn't have it any other way. Whenever you think you're too full and cannot possibly take anymore, you feel a little more of Sunghoon's cock slide in you, so you get on your elbows with what little strength you have left and take a look for yourself. He's barely halfway in, and the burning sensation is starting to set in again. It hurts, but it hurts so good, you need more and you need less at the same time.

"Yeah, that's right, angel. Watch how your greedy needy cunt swallows me." Sunghoon's eyebrows are creased, sweat now not only dripping from his scalp, but little droplets constellating his broad chest, following the paths preset by his sculpted physique, all the way down to his vline. A mouthwatering sight.

"So full," you sigh, eyes never leaving from where you're connected, clit throbbing the more he fucks his cock into you, begging for a lick of attention.

"You'll be so much fuller. Can you behave and handle that for me, mhh?"

You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding along to his words and sneaking down your hand to play with your clit when you come to the conclusion that Sunghoon's hands are way too busy gripping your plushy skin like his sanity depends on it.

"Smart girl," he praises.

The wetter you become, the easier and more pleasurable the slide is. Sunghoon watches you for any sign of unbearable discomfort, slowing down when you bite your tongue or picking his speed back up when you bless him with those precious needy whines of yours. "You're doing so well, my gorgeous girl. So fucking amazing, making me feel so good already, God, you're perfect."

His words of encouragement play a big part in easing the pain for you, soothing you enough to make it easier for you to not tense up when his cock nudges a particularly sensitive spot inside of you. Your hand flies to your lower belly and you swear you feel him right there, so much deeper than you've ever had anyone—or anything—be.

"There we go," Sunghoon puffs out like he's been holding himself back from breathing this entire time, his pelvis grinding against your folds deliberately. And you finally realize he's all the way in for the first time ever. "Squeezin' me so tight, are you scared I'll run away?" He pulls back a bit before fully thrusting inside again, the curve of his cock aiding in making him hit all the right spots you could've never reached yourself. "No fucking chance. Not after I've got a taste of this. Gonna fuck your pretty pussy open every fucking night, until I've trained her to take me in without any complaints."

He sets a slow pace, not wanting to overwhelm you just yet, then adds, in a softer tone, "Does it hurt too bad, baby?"

If he keeps the back and forth up for much longer, you're gonna end up getting whiplash. But between groans and higher pitches sounds, you manage to answer him. "Any more and you would've popped me like a balloon."

Sunghoon giggles as he bends down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, hands finally loosening his grip on your legs and traveling all over your body. "You begged, and begged and—"

"I'm not complaining, am I?" you ask, breaking the kiss and resting your forehead on his, the saliva string connecting you two shining under the warm light of the lamp. "Harder."

Sunghoon complies instantly, speeding up his movements and giving you actual thrusts instead of the messy mix of grinding and nudges he'd taken a liking to. His hot, wet mouth finds your neck, too greedy and selfish, in desperate need of hearing the beautiful sounds you make instead of swallowing them down. His tongue skates over your pulse point, a shiver traveling down your entire body when he gives you the lightest nibble right there before licking it up again in apology.

"I can still taste you in my mouth." His breath tickles the wet skin of your neck, your front arching into his when goosebumps appear all over your exposed arms. "Always want to—mh, taste it. You'll let me eat your pretty pussy again after you gush on my cock?"

Even if you want to reply, you really can't, not when the pace he's drilling into you at is knocking the air out of your lungs, and the bolder his movements get, the more you understand why he asked where he should cum before even staring. You want to look at him, take in every expression on his beautiful face, but the pleasure is too much to handle and the only thing that seems to help is closing your eyes and letting them roll back into your skull.

Your lips are raw from all the biting, and you're so incredibly thankful when Sunghoon's hand swats yours away from your clit to replace it, allowing you to sink your fingers into his broad shoulders, clawing at them with every languid thrust he gives you. He feels so perfect, filling you up to the brim and then some more, stretching you out so fucking good you suspect you won't ever be able to scratch the itch if not with his cock.

"I'm in love with this fucking pussy, baby," he moans, loud and unapologetic, making his way with open mouthed kisses down your neck, then following the line of your clavicle, only to dip down between the valley of your breasts. Your tits have spilled out of the tiny little dress due to bouncing around with every precise thrust Sunghoon gave you, and your nipples are perky and hard, begging for his attention right in his face.

"And your tits, fuck. So pretty, I'm gonna eat you right up." He licks a stripe on one of your hardened buds before enveloping it fully between his lips and sucking on it lightly, sighing contently into it when you push your tits on his face further, loud whines spilling out of you.

The very familiar band in your tummy starts to tighten again the more he works on your nipples and clit at the same time, thrusts never once faltering. All of your senses are heightened to such a degree you don't even know what to do with yourself anymore if not lay under Sunghoon and let him absolutely ravage you, not a single thought but 'feels so good' crossing your mind. But it's fast, too fast, and you want it to last for longer, want Sunghoon to keep fucking you for hours until the only word you remember is his name.

You try to push his hand away from your clit, only earning a reprimanding yet gentle bite on your nipple, a warning. "I c-can't."

"Can't what, pretty girl?" He rolls your nipple between his lips, lapping away the tingling sensation the nibble left on it that has you jolt in his hold. "Use your words."

You throw your head back in frustration, feeling the impending climax approach you once again, the nth that night. "Don't want it to end," you gasp, using up all the strength left in you form a coherent sentence.

Sunghoon coos at you. Fucking coos at you only to deepen the strokes of his cock inside you, angling his hips to reach even deeper. "Cum for me baby, I'll just keep fucking you."

Your thighs shake as they wrap around his waist to pull him closer, his hips switching to grinding his cock into you instead of thrusting it, the fat tip poking the most delicious sensitive parts of your heat. You gasp and wheeze, claw and scratch and draw blood from his skin but it never hinders or stops his strokes. You clench around him time and time again, wrapping around his cock so nicely Sunghoon can feel his own orgasm build up in the pit of his stomach.

You come around him with a silent scream, every single part of your body twitching under him as he keeps fucking into you, now chasing his own high. He still takes a moment to watch you and how beautiful you look at the highest of your peak, eyes glazed over and mouth hung open, sweaty skin glistening so beautifully he wishes to be a painter and capture it forever. It's a sight he's never gonna grow accustomed to, and it has his stomach twist in knots. "That's it baby, so fucking gorgeous, keep cumming for me like that, milking my cock so well."

Even in the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body looks for his, hips rolling into his as if to silently ask for him to cum inside you, now that your voice has completely failed you.

"Just a bit more. We're almost there, my perfect little baby, so good for me," Sunghoon is babbling too by now, so damn enamored with the sight of you trying to keep your twitching under control even though you're still cumming around him and teetering on overstimulation so he can fully savor his own high. "The most perfect angel girl ever. I love you so fucking much."

Your head is light and Sunghoon's words reach you as if in slow motion, muffled by your own blood buzzing in your ears. You're completely drenched, and the bedding underneath you is too, but neither of you can bring yourselves to care. The slide is not painful anymore, and everything feels so warm and slippery, you never want it to end.

The image of Sunghoon still grinding and fucking his cock into you, his pace now reduced to a desperate mess and nowhere near as precise as it was, clears up slowly as your ears stop ringing, but your pleasure never does. You don't know if you're still cumming or if Sunghoon fucking you just feels this good you can't tell the difference, but you feel like you're on cloud nine and lighter than you've ever been.

Sunghoon's torso is completely glistening, and you feel some of that slick coat your skin too when he bends your legs into you, folding you against the bed and hitting even deeper inside you.

You're a moaning mess as he pistons his dick inside your heat, dragging perfectly against your gummy walls. You look down and see a bulge poke your lower tummy with each deep stroke of his. The sight alone is enough to have you on the edge again, but it feels different this time, like you cannot possibly contain what's about to happen.

"Hoon—"

"Shh," he silences you, hair a sweaty mess and dripping all over your figure. The squelching sounds of his skin slapping against yours, connected by white strips of slick on both of your thighs get even louder when his pace gets faster, the hand that played with your clit suddenly pushing down on the bulging of your stomach. "Give it all to me, soak my fucking dick—fuck, I'm gonna cum baby, gonna cum so deep inside you."

You cannot stop the dam from breaking, juices shooting out of you so suddenly you're taken aback too, coating his entire lower abdomen in it. Your cunt throbs around him so hard, almost like it's trying to push his cock out of you. You can't think of anything, cannot fathom anything that's not Sunghoon, and his perfect cock, and how good you feel, going completely limp on the bed.

He moans louder than you at the sight of your wetness drenching the bed and his cock. "Fuck, take it all baby. I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm—"

His hips stutter one final time against you, burying his cock deep inside you and shooting his seed in multiple thick spurts as deep as he possibly can, filling you up perfectly. He dips down to catch your mouth in a messy kiss, panting into your mouth even as you two are still both trying to catch your breath from your orgasms, but your lips on his are all the oxygen he needs.

"I love you," you whisper into the kiss, your words finally having found the way out of your throat again.

Sunghoon hums, his body weakened and tired but still hovering above you instead of slumping on you. "I love you more." He gives you a sweet peck like he wasn't just putting you through the matters moments ago. "You were perfect, baby. Did so amazing." He lets his body go beside you on the bed, dragging you between his arms and grimacing when the wet mess you made on the covers touches the back of his body. "A rag won't be enough."

You smile, weak but content. "And who's fault is that?"

Sunghoon pretends to think about it, but from the look on his face you can tell the answer is ready on his tongue. "I think it might be yours for being too hot I couldn't help myself."

You swat your hand on his chest, but there's no force behind the gesture.

"Aaand for making me jealous."

A groan leaves your lips, your arms coming up to cover your face. "How am i gonna ever face Jay again after this."

Sunghoon's chest vibrates against your skin. "You'll think about that after I clean you up."

You make a low noise of complaint, rolling over to push yourself on top of your boyfriend's body, hands resting on his toned chest as you reach for his huge cock and slowly sink yourself onto it, head thrown back in pleasure even if it's not fully hard anymore. Sunghoon's breath catches in his throat as he watches you lower yourself against him again, your head finding refuge on his shoulder. "Later."

You stay like that for a while, breaths slowly synchronizing in the peaceful quiet, Sunghoon's cock comfortably nested in your heat while his fingers lazily ghost over the entire expanse of your back. You could fall asleep at any moment, but you raise your head one more time to look at your boyfriend, his half lidded eyes meeting yours instantly. "You did not strike me as the type of guy to edge himself that much."

"Just go to sleep."

BONUS

You roll over to tentatively search Sunghoon's bedside table, ignoring the sound of the lube bottle hitting the floor, until the cold screen of your phone meets your spread hand.

Sunghoon is snoring lightly behind you, his nose nuzzled against your nape, and you hope to not wake him up as you unlock your phone. You recoil when the light that feels like a million suns momentarily blinds you, but even that is not enough to discourage you from completing the life-or-death task ahead of you.

You open up messages—promptly ignoring Jay's "never do this shit again. you two are nasty."— and click on Jungwon's chat, not wasting time to watch the several unloaded video files sitting in it (you can easily recognize the blonde silhouette of Jake's hair in half of them, so you're free to assume it's nothing of particular importance anyway) to type a quick text.

05:34 AM. You: mission accomplished ;p (cancel the hiking thing we planned for next week unless you carry me yourself. your girl can't walk)

Shockingly enough, he replies within the minute.

05:35 AM. twin: you shameless being (a whole week is crazy)

05:37 AM. twin: whatever, but I'm dragging you out for brunch so you figure out your means of transportation yourself. we need to catch up

05:38 AM. You: crazy night for both of us i assume

05:38 AM. twin: oh you have no idea

[reignpage]

In which you give them the silent treatment and the different ways they react – mostly a, would they pester you or leave you alone? scenario

Satoru would opt for the ‘annoy you until you cave’ method. Might do silly things in front of you to catch your attention, to gain that twitch of a smile from your lips, or even just a huff – anything to show you’re paying attention, that despite whatever he did, you still care. Would drop off sweet treats and presents at your desk or all over the house, both to bribe you out of silence but also to remind you he’s thinking of you. He’s never not thinking about you. If none of that works though, he, too, falls silent. Soon, you’ll stumble into your shared home, find the lights off, and a brooding Satoru sitting on the sofa. He’ll apologise, solemnly this time, and peel off his blindfold, rub his temples and ask, “Where do we go from here?” 

Suguru gives you the silent treatment too. It becomes a competition to see who could last the longest. He’s so petty, he’ll watch you struggle to reach for something on the top shelf, knowing that you’re on the verge of asking him for help but he’ll never offer. Instead, he might come over, pick it up himself, just to use it. In a way, he also employs the ‘annoy you until you cave’ method, he’s just less obnoxious about it. Giving him the silent treatment is honestly not recommended because he usually lasts longer. But when you do give in, when you utter a single word to him, his shoulders visibly drop, the tension in his spine dissipates, and a smile finds its way back onto his face. Then, and only then, do you hear him say, “Finally, pretty. Was going insane without hearing your voice.”

Choso does not intentionally opt for the ‘annoy you until you cave’ method but does end up using it. He wants to know what you’re feeling and thinking and will not stop asking. You’ll have a permanent shadow everywhere – in the kitchen, in the bedroom, in the streets, at a cafe etc etc. “What did I do wrong?” and “Why won’t you talk to me?” on repeat. ConfusedTM. Will one hundred percent poke you, worrying that maybe you’ve gone deaf. He’ll wave a hand in front of your face, raise his voice, and call Yuji just to see if his voice is working. Once he learns what you’re doing, he switches gears slightly. Then, he’ll talk to you and for you. “Woah, did you see how big that dog was? I know right? It’s massive! Yeah, I like big dogs too; I’m scared I’d step on a small dog. No, I totally would. Aww you’re too nice.” He gets so into his one-man role playing that when you do reply, he doesn’t even notice. 

Toji leaves you alone. Too grown and too tired to play these games, he chooses the method of frustrating you by not giving you the reaction you want. At least now he can do all the things you usually tell him off for doing – he can watch whatever sports he wants on the TV, can drink beer and only eat takeaway, maybe stay out late. Though he doesn’t like going to sleep without a ‘goodnight,’ some cuddles and kisses (he’ll never admit to any of that), he’s content to know you’re safe and sound, and still in this relationship enough to climb into bed with him anyway. Eventually, however, he does start to find the silence irritating. Worse though, is seeing you doing things on your own. There’s something fucking awful about the sight. It’s wrong. So, he’ll sigh and ruffle your hair, and man up. “Listen, I’m sorry, alright? Was being a child. Take your time and shit, but don’t eat dinner by yourself; it’s creepy as hell. Be silent and moody and whatever but be silent and moody with me.”

Kento gives you space. He won’t ever be so immature as to bother you out of your feelings nor will he pretend you don’t exist. Of course, he doesn’t think silent treatments are healthy and conducive to a successful relationship, but you already know that. So, instead of mansplaining right and wrong, he’ll continue to be himself and wait for you to come out of your shell. Dinner is prepared for you, so is a warm bath, texts reminding you to eat and to have a good day are sent, all part of your routine. He’s so sweet you actually forget why you were ever mad and would burst out in excitement if he told you about the weekend plans he’s made for you both. Won’t comment on the fact that you finally spoke to him. Will just keep talking to you like nothing ever happened. Later, however, he finally has a good night’s sleep, the best in as long as you were withholding your voice and thoughts from him. “Hmm, goodnight, honey. We can talk more in the morning, just let me hold you.”

Sukuna deploys his own tactic. It’s so dirty. It’s so underhanded. It’s so him. Motherfucker will tickle you. And…he has four arms. Obviously, it’ll only make you more upset, but just for a second, for a single moment, you’ll look him in the eye with a smile on your face and you’ll talk to him. He’s happy. Even if what you say are swear words and ‘stawhppp, you fugly asshole.’ When you continue your silent treatment, he gets all frowny, broody and pouty. Practically walks around with perpetual storm clouds over his head. More people are dying left, right and centre. Screams go on in the night and past daybreak. But you’re practically immune to the suffering of others by now. What would make you cave, however, is Sukuna stomping over to you, angry and violent and desperate to be okay with you. He won’t grab you, won’t shake you, or threaten you into submission. He’ll simply kneel before you, cradle your body to his, and mutter an apology into your stomach. “Forgive me…I was wrong. Let us be friends again. I do not know what to do with my time now that you won’t even look at me. I cannot sleep, cannot eat, cannot breathe without you. It all only hurts…I miss you, little one.”

[leislibrary]

[skz] how they accidentally reveal your relationship

pairing: maknae line x reader hyung line here! genre: fluff, hints of angst wc: 2.8k, between 500 - 800 each

Han - on Bubble

“Hannie, are you aware you’re dating another idol?” Minho asks, eyes trained on his phone screen, legs thrown over Han’s lap. 

“Yes, you’ve been my boyfriend for years now. Don’t tell Y/N,” Han remarks. He continues scrolling through his Bubble messages. He’s trying to respond to as many people as he can to make up for his recent inactivity. 

“That too. But look,” Minho shoves his phone in Han’s face. There, on screen, a headline reads: HAN of Stray Kids Dating ITZY Member?? 

Han scoffs. Idols constantly have dating rumors about each other. Very rarely does it mean anything at all. In this case, a camera captured Han and Chaeryeong talking while waiting for their drinks from JYP’s cafe. The picture crops out Chan standing right next to Han. 

At dinner that night, Seungmin asks, “Hey Han, do you think you can get us tickets to an ITZY concert soon?” 

“Yeah!” Hyunjin chimes in, “I bet it would be so easy now that we have connections!”

“Haven’t you known Yeji longer than you’ve known us?” I.N laughs, earning a flick of water his way from Hyunjin. The table quickly descends into chaos as I.N. tries to hit Hyunjin back but misses and hits Changbin instead. 

Nights like this are rare for them - being able to enjoy each other’s company without cameras documenting their group dynamics or worrying about their rigid schedules. It’s relaxing. Freeing. 

Minho silently hands him a beer. Han accepts. 

The night progresses in comfortability and laughter. The boys pile into the living room for a Tekken-tournament-slash-drinking game. Han scrolls through social media, sending you posts he knows will make you laugh. 

He takes a sip from his third beer and opens Bubble again. He never finished answering everyone earlier. 

An idea forms. Chan and Felix are great at recounting amusing stories or sharing their thoughts with Stay. Why can’t he do that too? He’s positive that his fans will appreciate him making light of the dating rumors. 

He types:

Did you guys see I’m dating someone new? Apparently I’m close with ITZY hahaha I don’t think my girlfriend will be happy about it

He smiles and leans back - drinks affecting him more than he’d like to admit - and imagines your sweet laughter when he can tell you in person tomorrow. He loves the fact you never take rumors seriously. He loves how the silliness of some of them become jokes between you. He loves you. 

The room is quieter than it should be. He opens one eye, and is met with seven pairs of eyes staring back at him. 

“Hm?” 

Chan speaks. “You told Bubble you have a girlfriend.”

“You have my Bubble?” Han unlocks his phone. Rereads the words he sent. I don’t think my girlfriend will be happy about it. 

My girlfriend. 

My girlfriend. 

Everybody starts talking at once. 

“I’m like 70% sure you can convince them you meant Minho!” “You should put your phone in a different room when you drink.” “You’re one to talk! Last week you stole my phone and posted my WORST picture ever!” “Yeah, but that was on purpose.”  “Getting a new tattoo would distract people from this.” “Get a tattoo of Y/N’s face!!” 

Han does not hear them. 

My girlfriend. 

Chan’s voice cuts through the chaos. “Have you and Y/N ever talked about going public?”

Silence. Again. Seven pairs of eyes on Han. Again. 

Of course you’ve talked about it. He tried to convince you to hard launch by posting cosplays. You shut him down, and he made a huge show of how he loves you more than you love him. 

You wanted to protect your privacy for a little longer. He would do anything you asked. 

Except the one thing you asked, apparently. His breathing quickens. He doesn’t register Seungmin asking if he’s okay. 

You’re going to break up with him. His careless words cost him the best thing he’s ever had. 

His phone buzzes. On screen:

Y/Nie 🤍:

Baby I know you’re probably spiraling Chan texted me when you sent it I could never be mad at you for this I love you so much Granted, not the most ideal way to announce it Okay yeah you’re definitely spiraling …we can do your fuckass cosplay idea ONLY if it will help you feel better about this

He loves you. 

Felix - Anniversary Dinner

Felix had insisted on taking you out for your one-year anniversary. He claimed he wanted to properly show you off - the most ”showing off” you two get is hurried moments backstage, fearful of lurking fans or the wrong person’s eyes on you. 

Now, excitement overtakes nerves as you adjust the dress Felix bought you for the occasion. You can hardly even remember the last time you went out without wearing a random SKZ Staff lanyard and toting along a third member. 

JYPE placed that safeguard - nobody would question why Felix was hanging out with staff and at least one of the boys. 

Felix appears behind you in the mirror to wrap his arms around you. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down and resting his head on your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek. “Really beautiful,” he adds, dragging his eyes down your reflection. 

Your eyes sparkle as you smile back at him. “I’m happy we get to do this.” 

His fingers lace through yours. He places a soft kiss on your forehead, allowing you time to breathe in his cologne. Its scent reminds you of home. Of being in his arms. 

“You’re sure nobody will recognize you?” You ask, worried about what his managers will say if one of their biggest idols’ relationship is unveiled through paparazzi photos. You can’t imagine they would be thrilled. 

“The restaurant is dark, and I’ve booked us a private table. We should be fine,” he murmurs against your skin. 

“What if we aren’t?”

He pulls away, keeping his body pressed against yours, to lock eyes with you. “We will be fine no matter what happens.” His eyes search yours, still seeing your hesitancy. “If ‘what happens’ is our relationship goes public,” he brushes some hair out of your face, “then the world will finally see how lucky I am.” 

Dinner went better than you could have imagined. You hardly recall the food. Just the feeling of what it was like to be out with your boyfriend. To hold his hand. To laugh at his jokes. To admire him across the table. 

To have people recognize you two as a couple in love, rather than writing you off as “an idol and his staff”. 

You are still giddy about last night as you pad into the kitchen. Felix is already leaning on a counter, sipping coffee and scrolling his phone. 

“Morning, baby,” he says. 

You stop in your tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“You only call me normal pet names when something’s wrong.” 

He sighs, taking a couple steps closer. “You’re too observant. It’s nothing bad, I promise.” He pauses, then adds, “Pookiebear.” 

You lean into him. “What’s wrong?” 

His chest rises and falls against your cheek when he sighs again. Wordlessly, he turns his phone to show you his screen. 

An Instagram account you’ve never seen before has posted pictures of you two at dinner. 

Felix lets you scroll through the photos at your own pace. Due to the angle they were taken at, most of them show the back of Felix’s head, with an unobstructed view of your face. You laughing. You mid-bite. You gazing at him like he hung the stars just for you. A couple towards the end capture his face as you leave. 

He takes his phone back. “The good news is you look gorgeous in every single one.” 

You remember one in which you overestimated how much pasta could fit in your mouth. 

He continues. “The bad news is we couldn’t control how everyone sees my gorgeous girl for the first time.”

Your heart flutters at his words. You know this is a huge deal, and his company will be upset, but right now, leaning into him, all you can think about is how much you love him. You two will be okay no matter what, because in the end you will still have each other. 

Seungmin shuffles into the kitchen, staring at his phone, and takes one look at you before deadpanning, “You should take smaller bites. This is gross to look at.” 

Felix lets you go to chase him through the dorm - Seungmin’s screams echoing against your reflection on your life with Felix. 

Seungmin - on a walk

You had a shit day. 

A coworker spilled coffee on your white shirt. Your boss pushed up an already-impossible deadline. You had to cancel dinner with Seungmin the singular night this week he gets out at a reasonable hour. Public transportation shut down - seemingly just to make your day worse. Rain soaked you on your walk home. 

Seungmin darts toward you when you push open the door to your apartment, dripping like a wet rat. 

You smile weakly at him. “Forgot my umbrella,” your voice cracks, betraying any sense of humor you tried to muster. 

“Oh, baby..” his voice trails off as he wraps you in his arms. “Let me take care of you.”

And he does. 

He runs you a hot shower, puts your towel in the dryer so it will be warm and fluffy, and lights your favorite candle - the one he claims smells like the bottom of I.N’s shoe but keeps repurchasing for you anyway. He’s queuing up the next episode of your show when you step into the living room. 

All the emotions you tampered down flood into you when you see him, perfect, waiting for you. Your heart clenches in your chest. Your shoulders shake, and before you know it, tears are streaming down your face as you sit down next to him. 

Seungmin pulls you into him. “Hey, what’s wrong? I thought I did well,” he questions.

“You’re amazing. It’s everything else, I guess,” your voice shakes with the reply. 

“It’s over now, baby. We can decompress - take all the time you need.” He rubs circles on your back, grounding you as you try to stop sobbing. You feel silly crying like this, but it’s hard to stop once you start. It has been so long since you cried, you’re not even sure what you’re crying about anymore. 

“Hey, the rain stopped,” He brings his hand under your chin and gently pushes upwards, forcing you to look at him. He’s right - you no longer hear raindrops tapping against the window. “You want to go on a walk with me? The city will be dark and pretty. And you’re getting my favorite shirt wet.” 

The fresh air will help. You nod. 

The fresh air does help. Puddles reflect neon lights off the ground, and the air smells like rain. Hardly anybody else is out at this hour. It feels as if you and Seungmin have the whole city to yourself. 

Seungmin keeps talking to lift your spirits. You’re walking hand-in-hand as he recounts how both Hyunjin and Han kept messing up the choreo during their practice today. 

“Lee Know was getting so frustrated but taking it out on Hyunjin because you know he can’t stay angry with Han - even though Han was doing worse than Hyunjin. I thought Hyunjin would quit, honestly. But then, Lee Know missed a step and -”

“Seungmin??”

Both of you freeze. 

“Oh my god! Look, it’s Seungmin from Stray Kids!!” a girl on the sidewalk screeches, followed by the sound of her slapping her friend’s arm.

You try to drop his hand. He squeezes yours tighter. 

His management reminds you about the importance of secrecy every single time you see them. It was already risky just to hold hands in the first place, but continuing to do so when he’s approached by fans? They’ll kill you. It’s not even your fault. 

The girls trot over and seem to notice you for the first time. Their squeals overlap, “OHMYGOD I love you!!!” coupled with “Isthisyourgirlfriend??” 

“No,” you two reply in sync, well-rehearsed from practicing with his management team and other close calls. Except, this time, Seungmin is blowing right past “close call” territory. 

He has not let go of your hand. 

As Seungmin begins making conversation with the first girl, the other is staring at her phone, angling her camera towards where you two are connected. She’s filming. You pretend not to notice. Any attention you draw will make it worse when the video is inevitably posted.

Seungmin glances at you, then at the camera. He noticed too. 

He rests his arm over your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

Eventually, finally, the girls leave. The girls never told you they were videoing, but it became exceedingly obvious the more comfortable they got with him. Seungmin never mentioned it, but he also never took his hands off you. 

“What was that?” You ask when they’re out of earshot. “Your company will have a heart attack when that’s posted.”

Seungmin shrugs. “I wanted them to know I’m yours,” he states simply. “Besides, I don’t want JYP to control my personal life. He does not make good decisions.”

I.N - Backstage

The atmosphere is addicting. The electric air. The screaming fans. Your boyfriend on stage like he was born for it. No matter how many concerts you attend, you always crave more when it’s over. 

The crowd surrounding you cheers as they finish their last encore. The group will stay on for a bit after the song is over, but you want to be waiting for your boyfriend as soon as he gets off stage. No matter what time they end, he’s always practically vibrating with energy after performing - especially to sold-out stadiums. 

You push through the crowd, making your way towards a backstage entrance. Along the way, a group of girls is holding up signs, shouting for your boyfriend’s attention. You glance up at him just in time to see him smile back at you. The girls behind you go crazy. 

You fish a backstage pass I.N gave you long ago out of your bag, but the familiar security guard just smiles and waves you through. Since they are playing at a baseball stadium, this “backstage” is still outdoors, but mostly hidden from the seats.

Quiet chaos awaits you. Staff is rushing around, trying to get everything finalized in their dressing rooms, and for the rides back to the hotel, and to make sure everyone has food after the show. The stadium’s staff is planning out the logistics of doing this all over again tomorrow. 

You find a quiet spot in eyesight of where your boyfriend will be coming back to you. A cool breeze blows against your back. 

Soon enough, the boys are filing off stage, each causing the entire stadium to cheer with their unique sign-offs projected onto screens. 

The energy transforms into full-blown chaos in an instant. Hyunjin jumps up and down, unable to contain his energy. Seungmin dramatically collapses and shouts that he can’t get up for another week. Changbin picks him up bridal-style and twirls him until Seungmin screams. 

I.N appears. His eyes search for you, a smile overtaking his face when he spots you. He sprints over, barrelling into you and lifting you up to avoid falling. You still almost lose your balance to avoid crashing into Chan. 

“Baby!! Did you like it?? Did you have a good time??”

Your giggle matches his own as he sets you down, still holding you close and pressing his forehead against yours. You squeal at his sweatiness, but that only pushes him to try to smush your faces together as much as humanly possible. 

With everything happening around you, you two don’t notice the fans filing out of the venue beside you. 

The clamor grows when fans realize it’s I.N that’s holding you like he never wants to leave. 

I.N leans in and kisses you hungrily, exerting some leftover energy into showing his love. 

Chatter erupts into screams. He pulls away and stares into your eyes. A wall of sound blocked you two from even hearing each other. 

Through the corner of your eye, you can see the band members still in the vicinity all staring at the scene: You and I.N, holding each other, all smiles, while an audience grows in the stands behind you. 

[blueivyy99]

Calm and Serenity (Final Part)

Sylus x Non!MC

summary: you didn't know what sylus saw in you. he said you were calm, quiet and serene and that's what he needs. you believed it. he showed it. not until little miss hunter came. she's everything you're not. news that she's in danger can make the ever so calm sylus to run and leave everything behind. it made you think, would he do that for you as well?

tags: angst, romance, hurt and comfort, non-mc reader,

taglist: @fknblsht @aboobie @nin10doo @ixloom819 @damatically @sylusgirlie7 @stellisangelicus-world @kira-loves0905 @wanderlustingcastaway @browneyedgirl22 @lumieresdreams @babygirl-panda19 @picnicinthegarden @96jnie @xxfaithlynxx @wrimaira @reni502 @lazypostfandomer @augustdxjiminx @hey-airam @vevlvtcherie @marquitas-en-verano @ma-cherie-lovely @zeskyzed @imnikki @shiorihoshino @mentaltrouble2201 @sylustoru @imaginarytheatre @seris-the-amious @zoyadarling @sanghyuksgasolinestationscream @young-adult-summer @iamawkwardandshy @r0ckb1n @openthenyoor01 @malleus-draconias-rose @syyyy4ever @yutterfly @xsammijoanneex @reni502 @animegamerfox @hao-ming-8 @angelicspaceprince @codedove @bxtchopolis @nommingonfood @esylwen @phisen @gojosbedwarmer @rubyninja1 @lemonn015 @cordidy @blueesmiski @yunhogrippers @sleepykittenenergy @thatsbunnysmind @lumi-s-garlic @splaterparty0-0 @soulaandshere @sillyfeeakfanparty

Masterlist

Day 1

Sylus didn't get any sleep these past 24 hours. He is pacing his room, waiting for your call. He is hoping that maybe you'll contact him just to say something … anything. Even though it was an unspoken rule that you will not be contacting each other, there's a silly hope in Sylus's heart for a miracle to happen.

He kept waiting but still no text from you.

Ah figures. She needs time.

He tried to get some sleep, but every time he closes his eyes your face haunts him. He wants to get you back but he knows that you need this. That this time he doesn't get to be selfish, that this is about you and what's best for you.

On your side, it's not any better. You cried all day sinking your body in your new bed. This new place feels unfamiliar. Too bright, too spacious, too quiet, too lonely.

You already miss the ruckus that the twins are making or Mephisto's cawing early in the morning. And him. You already miss him.

You remember the previous night. Sylus helped you pack your bags, never leaving your side. He never spoke a word just quietly helping you. You can see the remorse in him and it took a lot of willpower for you not to take back what you said.

When you got in the car and let him drive, you noticed how he was driving slowly. Making sure to use the farthest way possible just so he can borrow a little bit more time.

“Sylus," you called him.

“Let me have this, love. Just a little more time before you leave, please?" you didn't have it in you to argue further. He looked broken and one second away from letting those tears fall.

“I never get to give you a lot of my time these months, and I know I may be asking for too much, but just let me be with you for a while longer. I can't let you go. Not yet." He took your hand and brought it to his trembling lips.

You didn't speak after. You just let him. A part of you wanted to stay with him a little longer as well. He stayed like that during the drive. Telling you random things or reminding you to take care of yourself. Blabbering just to take his mind off from the fact that once you step out of the car, you're really leaving.

When you reached Linkon, you never looked back. Each step you took felt like you're stepping on shards of glass. You wanted to run back to him, but you know that this is the right thing to do.

You need to set him free. You want to make sure that he is sure with what he is feeling. You want to see what he'll do. If your absence will strengthen the love between you and him, or will he run back to her.

You're giving him a sort of a way out. If he decides to be with MC, then fine. If he waits for you to heal even if it took years, then maybe you can try again.

That same night, getting some sleep has been hard. You kept looking at the photos of you and him on your phone. You kept rereading your previous messages and replaying the videos you took of everyone in Onychinus.

Starting a new life here in Linkon means leaving your family in the N109 Zone. You didn't just break up with Sylus but you also left the people that treated you like family.

Day 7

“Boss, Miss Hunter is here." Luke said. Sylus just frowned.

“Let her in."

Once she's inside, Sylus doesn't know what to tell her. He is not in his right mind even if a week has passed. He is the one who summoned MC to his base. He needs to know if she's willing to help him. He needs to know ASAP.

“What do you want, Sylus?" She said. He knows they didn't end on good terms the last time they talked, but he needs to try.

“About breaking off the bond. I want to know when are you willing to cooperate with me?"

She scoffed, "I told you, I don't remember a thing! How can I undo something that I don't remember doing in the first place!? Sylus, we're going in circles here. I don't want to waste my time with this.”

"Waste of time? This isn't just a waste of time! This is my life on the line. If I don't break this bond with you, I'm going to lose her.”

He was angry and desperate. MC surely saw it and it made her heart ache. Looking at him right now, it's obvious that he isn't getting much sleep and he isn't eating right. Poor guy must've been so broken-hearted.

If it wasn't for the knowledge that he has a girlfriend, she might actually like him. He is nice despite the rough exterior, but despite that she stayed in her lane. She didn't want to be a mistress. Hell nah.

She finally took pity on him and gave out a sigh. It's not all the time that you see Sylus like this.

“Fine, fine! I wanted to help you, but I can't figure it out yet. I will contact Luke and Kieran when I have more information about this linkage.” She said.

Sylus is relieved to hear those words. They mean nothing for now, but at least there's hope.

"And if I were you, I would be taking care of myself. What would Y/N say when she sees you like that?”

Before she left, she saw how he slightly took a glance at the mirror and quickly stood up to take a bath.

Silly guy.

Day 31

You finally got a job as a barista in Destiny Cafe. You didn't really have to work because you have enough money to last at least a decade but you need to take your mind off of things. Being in your home just makes you lonely.

Having a job is fun. Finally you get to sleep after tiring yourself during the day and you meet a lot of people.

However, the way back home is not the most pleasant whenever you pass by that arcade that you wanted to go to with Sylus.

You let yourself get bitter repressing them won't do you good anyway. You just let yourself feel annoyed and hurt and even cry at the smallest things.

Crying heals you and little by little you learn to let go of the things that break your heart. Baby steps, just like what they said.

Year 1

“Boss, do you want to go with us? We're going to Linkon for a mission." Kieran inquired. Sylus is in his office with piles of research papers at hand.

“No. I will stay here." He replied.

Kieran nodded. He understands that his boss is busy and he is dedicating all his time doing everything he can just to break that bond with Miss Hunter but that doesn't mean that they don't worry.

Him and his twin can't help but be alarmed at how Sylus is wearing himself down so every now and then they try to make him get out of the house even just for an hour.

Sometimes they succeed, but they won't miss the look of longing in their boss's eyes when he looks at the border that separates Linkon and the N109 Zone.

He never, not once stepped foot in Linkon since the day that you left. Luke once asked why and tjis is how their conversation went: “I want her to heal in her own way. And her seeing me might harm her progress. I can wait. She will come back when she's ready, or I'll go to her once everything in my end is okay. But not right now. It's too early.

“But Boss Man, what if an asshole tried to take her away? Let me and Kieran go there. We will look at her from afar so no one can get close. Or send Mephisto! She won't notice.” Luke whined. Sylus just clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"It's up to her. Now shut up and do your job.”

Kieran can see that despite saying those, Sylus is still affected; he just got better at hiding it.

You looked at your calendar. It's been only a year since you last saw Sylus but it already felt like forever.

You took a leave from work today planning to rest and just rot in bed all day. These past months, you had felt better but there are still days when his memories still haunt you just like today.

You stalked his Moments account. He seldom posts since you left and whenever he does, you know that it's about you. Every photo and caption is a reference to you and your memories with him.

Absent-mindedly, you refreshed his profile and your heart stopped at the image he posted. It was a fox brooch with ruby and onyx stone. He didn't say anything. Just that photo.

A smile crept on your lips. Surprisingly, there's no hurt and skepticism in your heart. Sadness, yes. But it's mostly because you miss him and his warmth.

You've come a long way and knowing that he is still waiting made the feeling more sweeter than it should.

Year 1 and 6 months

Sylus watched wide eyed as the soul link in his wrists disappeared. He was taking a shower when he felt it break. He didn't know how or why. MC didn't tell him anything. She didn't even have a breakthrough all these months.

And yet …

Quickly, he dried himself, took his phone and called her. She picked up the call as soon as it rang. She is just as excited as he is.

“IT'S BROKEN, OH MY GOD!" she yelled. He had to distance himself from the phone just to save his ears.

“How? What happened?" he asked.

Then there's a long pause. Sylus even thought that she hang up.

“MC?"

“Hmm, I don't know. But thinking about it now, before it broke I'm with my boyfriend …” she trailed off. "And, uhm, hehe we're y'know … intimate and confessed feelings and all that.”

Sylus winced, "Oh, shut up. I don't want to hear the filthy details."

���You asked! But yeah, I guess that's it. It was not so magical but I felt so much peace and wished that I could live the rest of my life and my future lives with him. And I guess that did it.” She said quietly.

"Thank you, MC.”

Even though he cannot see it. Sylus is sure that she's smiling right now.

"You're free now, Mister Dragon.”

She hung up the call after.

Sylus let out a shaky breath.

Finally.

“MADAME! I PROMISE WE WEREN'T FOLLOWING YOU! BOSS DOESN'T KNOW WHERE YOU ARE! WE JUST WANT COFFEE WE DIDN'T KNOW YOU'RE WORKING HERE!" Your eyes widen at how loud Luke is and Kieran is just there standing dumbfounded. If his mask is not blocking his face you're sure that his mouth is gaping.

“Luke! Shut your mouth. You're making a fuss!" you tried to shut his mouth under the mask as you escorted them away from prying eyes.

“We promise! He didn't send us here. If we know, we will avoid this place." Kieran vouched for his brother.

“I know, I know. And besides, I didn't even assume that he sent you here and yet you're screaming your lungs out explaining yourself." You chuckled remembering how silly they looked earlier.

“You believe us?" Luke asked.

“Yes." you answered.

The silence between you is comfortable. Something familiar.

“I missed you two," you suddenly said.

It was evident that they didn't expect you to say that but their shoulders relaxed and both their hands patted your head.

“We missed you as well. The base isn't the same without you in it. No one vouches for us against Boss Man's wrath.” Kieran said.

"How is he?” You asked. Your voice is low. If they weren't paying attention they might've missed you saying that.

“Doing okay. At first he's itching to look for you and call you he didn't eat or sleep. We figure it's normal. He was hurt. Slowly, he got up and accepted your terms." Luke's words were careful. Trying his best not to give you an impression that they are obliging you to come back.

“I'm glad he's doing okay."

The conversation after that was light and fun thanks to the twins. They diverted the topic to Mephisto's antics instead and as much as they could they didn't bring up Sylus again.

You're thankful that they don't push for you to get back with him. For now, it's enough to know that he's doing well.

You still love him, yes. But you need more time to be certain that you're ready.

Year 2 and 10 months

It's almost three years since you last saw him. Unlike last year where you wallow in despair, this year you're excited to go out. You put on your best dress and gave yourself light makeup.

Months had passed since you first saw Luke and Kieran and now they're regular weekly customers in Destiny Cafe during their special days off. It's fun seeing old faces and they make your day a lot better whenever they come to visit.

You remember one time they gave you a small shiny pebble.

“What's this?" You asked.

“Mephisto asked us to give you that."

You smiled from ear to ear after that. You know they can't bring Mephisto to you because Sylus will know exactly where you are and you didn't give them the permission to reveal your location yet.

Now at present ,you walk the familiar path you took everyday except you don't go straight to the cafe but to the arcade instead.

“Time to get that baby crow." you mumbled to yourself with your game face on.

=

Sylus is not used to the bustling and bright ambiance of Linkon but somehow, today his feet brought him here. He hasn't set foot in this city since you left but he cannot ignore the nagging feeling in his chest that he needs to go here today.

He walked around aimlessly. Lately, the twins frequent here and he has a hunch that it's because of you. He didn't ask. But by the looks of those two, you're doing okay. And that's enough for him.

For now at least.

He still plans on getting you back. He is just waiting for a sign. For a go signal from fate that it's time.

It's so silly, really. But he is a man in love and if your paths cross again and he is certain that you feel the same, then he will not let you go.

He went back to his senses when he saw the familiar arcade near the cafe. He remembered you telling him that you wanted that crow plushie. He still feels a pang on his chest whenever he remembers that but he long accepted that it will always remind him of what he did. He had forgiven himself for that, and swore that if you will give him a chance again, he will never let you feel forgotten again.

Once inside, he bought enough tokens to last him until afternoon. He is not the luckiest when it comes to this stupid claw machine, but he vows that today, he will go home with the complete collection.

It took him a good hour before finally getting one and wa shocked when a group of employees clapped their hands at him.

“Nice! Finally someone got one. The woman earlier spent a lot of time but she didn't get it and she left disappointed. I almost think that this claw is broken."

Sylus paid them no mind and once he got the hang of it one by one all the different colors of the crow plushies were on his hands.

The kids were in awe of him and the plushies inside his paper bag and it gave him a smug satisfaction successfully getting them all.

Once he stepped foot outside the arcade he decided to relax for a bit in Destiny Cafe. He ordered his coffee, sat on the farthest table in the corner and inspected the plushies he won.

“She will surely like these." He mumbled to himself before someone spoke behind his back.

“Oh I surely will."

Sylus held his breath. He is afraid to look back.

But he knows that voice.

He heard footsteps and then your face came into view.

“Hi, can I sit here?" You gave him a smile and he can see that there's no more uncertainty there. It's like seeing you again for the first time.

“O-of course," he stuttered. His mouth was gaping.

Then he felt your hand on his chin helping him close his mouth.

“Sylus, this is just me. Close that mouth or you'll drool."

Normally, he would retort with the same sass. But right now all he knows is that he missed you and you're here.

“I missed you," that was the first thing he said. He is hesitating to make your hands touch. You chuckled to yourself. Shy Sylus is adorable especially with that blush on his face.

Gently, you made your fingers intertwined. He squeezed your hand and held them tightly.

“I missed you too, Sylus. How have you been?"

"Finally Free.”

That's all he said and you knew what it meant.

note: this is really the end 🥹🥹🥹 i cant thank all of you enough for giving my first LADS fic a chance. im so grateful for all your loveee. i said to myself id be happy if at least 10-30 people give this a read but here y'all are 😭 so thank you thank you! ill see you on the next one i hope?

comments, reblogs and reacts are welcome 🫶🏻

[mwphisto]

Sylus: Sweet Temptations

~ this started as a quick imagine, meant to end where the "read more" tab is currently located. And, well, it spiraled.

~ Warnings: smut with no plot, reader is female! Cunnilingus, Sy hits it raw per usual, evol use, creampies. Pretty tame lol

A note from Soul: Heyo idk how I got here. It really started to spiral lmfao I miss writing full length stories. Perhaps I'll try and give it a whirl with a previous Sylus idea I teased a few weeks back. Enjoy! WC: 2.3k

"You... can't wear that."

You freeze, eyes widening as you stare at Sylus. Fresh out of the shower, your hair still damp, and a fresh set of comfy clothes adorning your clean skin. "Wha-why not?" Glancing down, you can't figure out what is so scandalous about a t-shirt and shorts.

"Your shorts are... too short." There is an odd tremor in his voice, one that freezes your confusion as it barrels down the train tracks of pure spiraling. "My shorts are too short?" You start, a smile creeping onto your lips as you cross your arms. "Are you saying I'll tempt the twins by showing so much of my legs?" Your grin turns wicked.

"Your legs? Sweetie, look behind you." So you do, catching a glimpse of your back in the full length mirror. No, it's not just your legs. The shorts are hiked up a little, teasing the round curves of your ass cheeks just below the cotton surface. Oh. oh.

"I don't see anything wrong." You bat your lashes at him as you turn to face him again, hands reaching back and poking the plush of your ass. Something Sylus catches in the mirror reflection, something you notice makes his throat bob. "Sweetie..."

"I'll be fine." You stand firm, the teasing lit in your voice making him clench his jaw. "We promised the twins we'd watch that movie with them, can't back down no-hey!" Your legs are kept in place by the familiar black and red tendrils of Sylus' evol.

But, he's stalking forward, long strides closing the distance. You feel the need to back away, but your legs are cemented in place. Before you can ask what he's doing, he's squatting down in front of you.

"My kitten is being naughty." He states simply, hands hooking in the elastic waist of your cotton shorts and tugging them down.

"Sylus!" Your face flushes, heat radiating through your body as he reveals exactly what he expected to find. "No panties, Kitten? I thought we were just watching a movie with the twins... instead you're trying to tease me, huh? Shorts riding up that perfect ass, just to forgo underwear. Easy access for me, right? How considerate."

You wanted to melt into the floor, eyes frantically looking between his face and where it hovered inches next to your exposed cunt. "I-I just didn't bring underwear into the bathroom with me." But Sylus is laughing, shoulders shaking as his hands move to hold your hips.

"You parade naked around our bedroom all the time, kitten. That's a silly excuse and you know it." You feel the urge to defend yourself, but, dammit, he's right. "C'mon, pull my pants back up the twins are probably wait-ngh!" You flinch, struggling to stifle your noises as Sylus nudges your cunt with his nose.

"They can... wait. I'm craving a pre-movie snack."

You’re struggling to swallow, mouth feeling impossibly dry as his words ghost warm air along your center. “Sy…” but you’ve already lost the battle, lost the war, this isn’t what you wanted to happen anyways, no?

“Hush, kitten. Let me eat.”

You can't stop the strangled yelp that leaves your mouth, hands immediately flying down to tangle in the silky soft white strands of Sylus' head. His nose is settling on your pubic bone as his tongue prodded between your slick folds. You could tell by the look he shot you that he wasn't at all surprised at how quickly you got worked up.

"S-shit, Sy. C'mon... I'm gonna fall." You could feel your knees trembling, even with his hands and evol holding you up. Still, Sylus didn't stop. His warm tongue poking at the pulsating bud residing at the apex of your cunt. As if to drive his point home, he squeezed your hips as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking until you squealed.

"S'too intense! C'mon!" But your lips were parted, fingers tugging on his hair so hard you were certain a few strands would come with you when you let go. But Sylus didn't stop, didn't even try to hide the obscene noises leaving his mouth as he slurped on your juices.

He was in his own form of heaven, face caged by your thighs, mouth glued to your cunt, your fingers yanking his hair so hard it sent delicious thrills of pain down his spine. Fuck, he could cum just like this and be satisfied. "S-shit I'm already gonna cum..!"

Your entire body trembled with pleasure, your cunt clenching around nothing but Sylus could feel the movement against his chin. Every nerve ending seemed to light on fire, to the point you wanted to tell him to ease up just to extend your pleasure.

But if there was one thing about Sylus, he loved to eat. And he certainly did not take well to any interruptions. That, and he always went back for seconds, thirds, hell even fourths and fifths and sixths and…

"Shit'm so close!" The tension in you cunt spread up to your gut, down your thighs, you had half the sense to realize his evol was the only thing keeping you upright at this very moment. Sylus hummed at your words, vibrating your now sensitive clit and making stars spark across your vision as his tongue flicked left and right.

Drool pooled in your mouth, damn near spilling out had you not swallowed to try and gain any sense of sanity. Sylus didn't relent, no, his eyes seemed to sparkle up at you as he started slurping again, suckling on your pulsating clit until he could see the tears brimming in your eyes. If his mouth wasn't so occupied, he'd tell you to cum.

"Boss man? Are you and Miss Hunter going to watch the movie with us?" Sylus didn't freeze, but you sure snapped out of your daze. You expected him to unlatch himself from your cunt, to gruffly answer Luke and then continue. Instead, he doubled down.

It was up to you to give a verbal response... that devil.

"Boss man?" Sylus merely sucked on your clit, you swore you could feel his lips curling into that goddamn smirk. "W-we'll be out in a minute. Sylus is j-just finishing up." What was he finishing exactly? You'd let Luke make his own assumptions. "Oh! Alright... we'll get it ready."

You could feel the confusion in Luke's words, but it didn't matter when your orgasm was teetering right on the edge. "Sylus please, oh fuck I'm so close to coming, please..."

He obliged just as you nearly hunched over, fingers spasming in his hair as you sought for some sort of grounding. The pleasure building up was far too much, and you knew your orgasm would absolutely destroy you. You just prayed you'd be able to keep your voice down.

Sylus' mouth was hot as he shook his head against your cunt, slurping and sucking as your eyes squeezed shut. Your release covered him, drenching his lips and chin as your pussy trembled and clenched all over his mouth.

Your ears rung, eyes swimming with tears and you tried to blink them away. Sylus barely relented, not until your hands tugged at his hair weakly. Then, with a soft kiss on your sensitive cunt, he pulled away.

"Sylus..." You weren't even sure what you were going to say, but he didn't give you a chance. No, there was something lingering in his gaze. Primal hunger, need, you knew you were in for it now. He wasn't done yet, the poor twins would be waiting forever.

"Sylus the twins are waiting-" but you were being scooped up in his arms, shorts still around your ankles as he walked you over to the bed. "They can start without us, I'm not satisfied yet." A dark gray patch had leaked across the front of Sylus' sweatpants. His cock visibly straining against the material. "Oh fuck..."

“Do you see what trouble this little stunt of yours has caused us, my naughty little kitten?” You pushed up on shaky arms, watching Sylus pull off the flimsy material of your shorts and toss them onto the bedroom floor.

“You’ll need to make it up to me, y’know. You can’t just go and dangle the sweetest of treats in front of me and expect me not to…” he sunk lower, crowding your space as his lips brush the shell of your ear. “…bite.”

An involuntary shiver racks your body, eyes dazed as your legs spread wider to accommodate him. “Then take your fill, Sylus. Devour me.” You swore you could see his self control snap in half, but his lips were crashing into yours with bruising force before you could process it.

Sylus took his time exploring your mouth, something he had done countless times, but it never quite got old. He didn't think it ever would. All the while, one hand reached down to yank his cock out of the confines of his sweatpants. He hadn't been wearing underwear either... but you didn't need to know.

You had been so lost in the feeling of his mouth that you didn't process anything else until it was a second too late. The dull head of his cock was pressing into your entrance, the pressure of the stretch making you whimper. Sylus soothed you by kissing you harder, drowning you in the feeling of his mouth.

"Good girl, take it." The whisper was enough to send a shrill of pleasure down your spine, walls quivering as inch after inch was buried in the warmth of your velvety walls. "Feel so good, baby. Such a good girl f'me. Taking me so well..." every praise was a whispered sin into your parted mouth, enough to have you gasping.

The pressure built, until your legs trembled as they crossed around his waist. "Sh-shit so big... so full..." He had bottomed out, a breathy laugh leaving his lips at your shameless praise.

"Don't inflate my ego too much, kitten."

You could only roll your hips in response, you didn't mind inflating his already large ego. "C'mon, Sy. We still have a movie to watch." His head fell forward at that, a reminder he wasn't all that willing to accept. "Quit rushing me, Kitten."

Your mouth opens to complain, but you can't manage to spit the words out. Not when he draws back half way just to push in again. "I want to take my time with you." he shifts, pushing you both further up the mattress so he can get better leverage.

"Only you, my love, would dare to order the leader of Onychinus around." And if you weren't grappling with your fraying sanity, you probably would have made a smart remark back to him. Instead, your nails dug into the material of his shirt, yanking it up his back in the process. You needed something to scratch.

Sylus found his rhythm easily - he always did - somehow knowing just how to fuck into you so you're seeing stars. If you thought he was ruining you, you should see the mess you were making of him. His shirt bunching at his neck, your nails digging into the muscled flesh, his sweat pants hanging around his thighs.

If anyone were to see the leader of Onychinus like this? It would be proper blackmail material. "S-shit Sylus! Just like that... fuck!"

It was incredible how quickly he could work you up. Your stomach was twisting, cunt fluttering around his size as it plunges in and out of your heated center. You could cum just from this, from the pap pap pap of his hips rutting into you, from his abdomen ghosting your sensitive clit. All of it had you forgetting to keep your voice down.

"Sy, m'gonna cum again..!" You pulled his face towards you, mushing your lips together in a sloppy kiss as his hips worked you senseless. "Cum for me, kitten. Make a mess." There was already a creamy ring of your arousal collecting at the base of his cock, it drove him wild.

His hand sunk lower, angling himself just right to begin rubbing eager circles on your twitching clit. "Feels so good, huh? Do I make you feel good, kitten? Ruining this pretty pussy cuz you wanted to be a brat? Wanted to get a rise out of me? You got it, fuck you got it."

You clamped down on him, walls suffocating him so harshly his hips stuttered in their steady pace. "Shit!" He almost came just from that.

You weren't faring much better, entire cunt spasming as your second orgasm hung just out of your reach. "C-cum with me, Sy. Please?" He was a devil? He'd beg to differ with that one. You were so effortlessly sin-incarnate. "Course, k-kitten." And you were falling apart, cunt gushing around him as his hips slammed into you one last time.

Hot ropes of cum poured into your cunt, filling you to the brim as a rumbling groan vibrated Sylus' chest. He was twitching, forehead pressing to yours as your uneven breathing mixed together.

"Pleased with yourself, Kitten?" A kiss lands on your nose, then your cheek, then your lips. You're struggling to keep your eyes open, a dopey grin on your lips as you try and calm down. "Very."

"Boss man... miss hunter?" This time, it was Kieran knocking at the bedroom door. "We can uh... reschedule the movie night. Or just uhm... Luke and I can just watch it together." A mortified shiver was creeping up your spine. How much had they heard?

Sylus sighed, a devilish look in his eyes as he called back. "Start watching, Miss Hunter and I will be out in a few minutes."

"C'mon Sylus!" But your lover only smirked down at you, "I thought you wanted to watch the movie, kitten. You were so eager to rush me every time I was looking to take my time."

This was his form of payback. "You're evil, Sy"

"...I know."

[shujichii]

he was used to getting you flowers.

be it a bouquet of your favorite flower, a delicate blossom tucked into your hair with reverence, a pink camelia in your favorite vase whenever you got sick— or a forget me not awaiting you on your shared bedside table whenever you needed some time to yourself, as if to say, take your time. i love you and i'm not going anywhere.

he may or may not have ended up investing in flower language solely for you. it was another way of expressing his love for you in that quiet, tender way— yet no less devoted.

but never in a million years had he imagined that he'd be standing before you after returning home—his beloved wife—one day, presenting a single flower to him after a sweet greeting, the petals adorning his favorite shade, all while looking up at him with a playful smile but affectionate gaze—the soft light of the living room adding a gentle glow to your features.

for a moment he was… stunned. unmoving— struggling to find the right words.

“for… me?” he asked at last, voice quieter than he intended for it to be.

you clutched the flower to your chest, mock-hurt. “what, don't tell me you don't like it? that's a shame..”

he exhaled in what could've almost been a chuckle, the corners of his lips unmistakably twitching.

“...but why? you didn't have to.”

you shook your head in disapproval. “don't be silly, baby. guys deserve flowers every once in a while, too, y’know.” you grinned up at him, taking his hand in your own before placing the flower on his palm, gently closing his fingers around it with your own. “it's yours now.”

he stared at you for a moment before his gaze dropped down to your hand clasped around his, the flower resting in between.

perhaps he shouldn't have been this surprised over receiving a flower. it wasn't a concept he'd ever thought of applying to himself, and yet here you were, giving him a flower like it was the most natural and obvious thing to do.

“that thought never crossed my mind, but.. thank you, love.”

he took the hand you were holding his with and lifted it to his lips, pressing a featherlight kiss to your knuckles. you laughed softly, leaning up to place a kiss on his cheek in return before ushering him inside for dinner, all while the flower stayed in his grasp. gentle and reverent.

it was light in weight, yet heavy in its meaning.

he'd placed the flower in a vase on top of his desk, serving as a constant reminder of you whenever he was working. he'd find himself spacing off while staring at it, his lips subconsciously curving into a soft smile when he recalled the ghost of your warmth lingering on his skin from the night you placed the flower in his palm. it continued—until he noticed that it was starting to wilt.

and he simply couldn't let that happen. not when you were the one who gave it to him.

so one night, when you'd already gone to bed, he found himself carefully pressing the petals to his journal— where your reminder would lie within, safely tucked away with care.

and you had no clue about it until one day, you saw a petal peeking out from his journal while he was writing down on it with those familiar, elegant strokes.

“wait… is that—”

his movements stilled.

he didn't say anything.

just cleared his throat, lowered his head just a bit more and continued writing all while the tips of his ears turned a delightful shade of red.

because what could he say?

yes, he did keep it. because anything from you was meant to be treasured.

♡ zayne, sylus, xavier, nanami kento, geto suguru, diluc, neuvillette, wriothesley, calcharo, jiyan, uchiha itachi, hyuga neji, ishida ryuken, kuchiki byakuya, jugram haschwalth, ishida uryuu, tomioka giyuu, tsugikuni yoriichi, lucifer, barbatos, your favorite.

[mattsmedusa]

✎ 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 ✮ 𝐜.𝐬 『 +𝟏𝟖 』

ⓘ best friends? ᚐ sexual tension ᚐ blowjob ᚐ etc. + intended lowercase. 𝐰𝐜. 𝟐.𝟐𝐤

it had been an overall good day for you. you were out with a friend of yours, having gotten your nails done and now eating lunch with her. your friend started to talk about her recent little hook up. it wasn’t anything unusual, you were used to hearing your friends talk about stuff like that, but today... something in you was more curious than ever.

your friend went on and on about how good it was and how more guys should be like the one that she fucked at that party two days ago. she suddenly nudged your arm and leaned in to whisper in a hushed tone. "he was huge, like, quite literally choked me with it—it was definitely an experience." she laughed, immediately switching to a different topic but you couldn’t shake off the sudden flicker of curiosity.

blowjob. you had never done it before and all because you were intimidated by the idea of having a dick in your mouth. now though, the intimidation was gone, only leaving curiosity behind. the curiousity was persistent enough to keep lurking in the back of your mind, even as you stepped foot inside the triplets place later that day.

chris, your best friend, was sitting on his gaming chair—his back facing you—when you walked into his room. he was so concentrated on his game that he didn’t even notice you at first. you shrugged it off and immediately plopped on his bed, sprawled out like a starfish as you closed your eyes, relaxing on his bed like you owned it.

after a few minutes, chris stretched, taking off his headset and stood up to probably get something to drink and that’s when he noticed you. his eyes widened and he recoiled, putting a hand over his heart, not having expected to see you—or anyone in that matter—on his bed.

"kid- you fucking scared me, when did you even get here?" he shook his head, laughing despite his initial surprise. "laying on my bed like you own the shit, get up." he walked over to you with a silly grin, probably plotting something, but you sat up right as he approached the bed, making him jolt in surprise at your sudden movement.

"what’s wrong with you toda-" "how do you give someone a blowjob?" chris immediately paused, mouth still agape from the word he was about to say before you cut him off. he stared at you blankly and you stared back at him, determined. a part of you regretted your words, but you were too far gone into the curiosity to take it back. "what does it feel like?" you pressed on, leaning forward towards him.

"what did you say?" chris blinked at you, not sure if he heard it right or if he was just hearing shit. "did you just- did you seriously just ask me how to give someone head?" he burst out laughing, plopping on the bed beside you as he lost his shit—not believing what he was hearing.

"you didn’t just ask me that." he said in disbelief as his shoulders trembled with laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners. but when he saw that you weren’t laughing along, he realised that you were dead serious. his laughter subsided, surprise flickering in his expression since you never brought something like this up—never sounded interested when he did.

"wait for real? you really wanna know?" he gave you a teasing grin, his eyebrows rising. "well, it’s not like i’ve sucked dick before so i can’t really tell you how, but i have gotten a blowjob before..." he trailed off, his grin widening as he leaned closer. "you want me to teach you or something?" he joked, but the joke fell flat as you nodded your head.

his eyes widened by a fraction before he let out a small chuckle, leaning back on his hands. he didn’t expect you to actually say yes, and well, why would he refuse? it’s nothing serious—or so he thinks.

chris swallowed down the worries and what if’s and slowly nodded, muttering a bit too breathless "alright" as he adjusted his position on the bed, watching your wide-eyed expression with a small smirk. "you wanna learn or no?" he teased putting a small pillow that he had on his bed on the floor in between his spread legs.

you blinked, staring at him for a good minute, not expecting him to actually go through with it. after a few seconds, you slowly stood up and walked towards him until you were right in front of him before kneeling down on the pillow. looking up at him, you noticed the way his pupils seemed slightly more enlarged than usual.

"you’ve a hairband or something?" he leaned back slightly, casually, trying to hide the fact that your proximity got his breath hitching. "so your hair won’t get in the way." he explained, watching as you leaned to the side to rummage through your bag, pulling out a hairband and tying your hair in a low ponytail with it.

"alright now..." he cursed internally at how breathless he sounded. he spread his legs wider, almost unconsciously as he felt his dick swell at the imagery his mind created of you sucking his dick with those doe eyes looking up at him. he was already half-hard and you hadn’t even done anything yet. you were just sitting in front of him looking so edible...

what is he thinking?

chris cleared his throat, finding his voice hoarse and undeniably needy. "you gotta, uh, get me fully hard first." he said. "don’t worry, i’ll guide you through it- just do what feels right." he reassured. he was starting to finally understand the gravity of the situation, but as per usual, he pushed the thoughts away.

you tentatively touched his boner straining against his sweatpants and your breath hitched at the warmth and hardness. your gaze flickered up to watch his reaction as you palmed his dick, swallowing thickly when you felt him swell further under your attention.

chris helped you pull down his sweatpants, his cock springing free and slapping his stomach before standing upright, precum already gathering on the tip. he stared down at his dick, then back at you, a small chuckle escaping when he saw your heated glance at his cock.

"staring at it like you wanna eat it." he mumbled with another chuckle. "huh?" you snapped out of your small trance and looked up at him. "you’re staring at my dick like you wanna eat it." he repeated, giving you a knowing smirk—which earned him a slap on his thigh, causing him to giggle.

"so do i just... lick it?" you questioned, ignoring the comment he made, tentatively reaching out to wrap your fingers around his base and feeling how girthy he was. he was big and long, causing you to feel that primal need to be filled. you shifted slightly, trying to will your body to behave, but fuck, he was easily bigger than any of the guys you’ve slept with before.

chris nodded subtly. "yeah... lick it like you would with an ice cream cone." he gently guided your head closer to his cock, the tip almost pulsing as a fresh bead of precum formed on the slit before slowly sliding down his shaft and onto your fingers.

you leaned closer and slowly licked up the underside of his length, from the base to the tip, with your tongue flattened—all while looking up at him with those doe eyes of yours. chris’ dick jumped in your hand, his breath hitching at the sudden warmth and wetness of your tongue. the way you were looking up at him so prettily got him feeling all types of ways.

you saw his reaction and interpreted it as you doing a good job and started to slowly become bolder, moving your hand in a twisting motion up and down his shaft while you kissed and licked his tip.

"f-fuck--" chris moaned quietly, his eyes closing briefly at the pleasure shooting through his whole body as your mouth focused solely on the head of his cock. his hand left your head to clutch onto the sheets beside his thigh. his hips twitched and jolted when you wrapped your lips around his cockhead, swirling your tongue around it.

you knew some things about a blowjob. the knowledge came from hearing about it from your friends, porn and some freaky reels you got recommended while doom scrolling on instagram. it’s not like you were completely innocent—you just hadn’t tried it out on anyone. but you were nervous nonetheless, seeking approval from him as you kept gazing up at him.

chris’ eyes snapped open when you took him deeper in your mouth. "wait- fuck, you sure this is your first time?" he breathed out, completely in awe at how good you were doing. he barely held himself back from rolling his eyes back when you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked up his length, letting it go with a wet pop.

"y-yeah, is it bad?" you asked panting softly, feeling insecure about your inexperience. your hand halted its motion on his dick, waiting for his reply.

chris quickly shook his head, "no, fuck no, you’re so fucking good at it... that’s why i asked," he explained, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, dick twitching subtly in your hand. he licked his lips subconsciously, eyes silently pleading with yours to keep going.

you let out a quiet sigh of relief and went back to what you were doing. getting bolder the more chris reacted. every small moan, whine or groan made your stomach flip. your panties were now uncomfortably wet, clinging to your pussy as you eased one more inch of his length into your mouth, gagging slightly before pulling off to pump him with your hand.

chris was so close to the edge already, finding it difficult to stay coherent so he simply stuck to letting you do your own thing as he leaned back on both hands. his head was thrown back, brows knitted together in pleasure and lips parted as soft moans fell freely from it.

you watched as chris’ breathing grew increasingly shallow, his hips jerking upwards and thighs trembling ever so slightly. that’s when you understood that he was about to come undone. the sudden realisation left your stomach doing somersaults and you immediately redoubled your efforts.

"wait, fuck- i’m gonna cum... if you don’t want—mmfhh—if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth then pull off." he said urgently. his breath hitched more frequently now as the bands in his stomach grew more and more taut.

you didn’t pull away though—you went faster, bobbing your head more enthusiastically as your hand took care of what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. you hollowed out your cheeks, sucking insistently before slowly going down and taking as much as you could.

that’s when chris suddenly held your head still between his hands, his hips giving a sharp thrust up and burying himself completely in your mouth as he came, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as breathy moans and profanities left his mouth. you felt his cock twitch and spurt out warm cum right down your throat.

chris’ hips jerked against your face, slowly riding out his high. he didn’t release your head until you slapped his thigh repeatedly, coughing as you tried your best to swallow down his release. he quickly let go of your head, mumbling a breathless "sorry" before slumping back on his bed. his chest heaved and body shuddered with aftershocks.

it took him a good minute to recover and when he did, he sat up, pulling his sweats up and looking at you like you had grown a second head. you simply chuckled at his surprised expression, wiping your mouth with a tissue from the tissue box beside his bed.

"you’re fucking insane." chris suddenly said. he was in disbelief that his inexperienced best friend just gave him the best blowjob he has ever received... and mind you, he has had his fair share of heads so when he thinks it’s good—it’s really fucking good.

"was it good?" you gave him a small grin, knowing the answer but not wanting to sound too full of yourself. your words made chris stare at you like you just told him something ridiculous.

"was it good?" he repeated your question with a laugh. "c’mon, you’re really gonna ask me that after making me moan and cum in like 2 minutes?" he teased, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he helped you stand up from your kneeling position in front of him.

"so, anything else you want me to teach you? ’cause i’m more than willing to be your personal instructor if you’re gonna do that good." he grinned shamelessly, laughing softly when you shoved him to the side.

"kid, don’t even try anything with me." you rolled your eyes, even as a small smile formed on your lips. you didn’t respond to his question, changing the subject as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, but you knew something shifted between you two after that. every little touch felt more than just a touch.

it’s probably just your imagination... right?

୨୧

✩ ˙˖˚᮫ ⁱˢᵃ ᮭ ᮭ.ᐟ i apologise for taking so long, hope you enjoy this nonetheless anon<3

[𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞!]

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @chaossturns @mels4ngel @lypsiiii @sydneyylainn @sturniolozbae @hearts4werka @strnilolover @matts-sidepiece @hearts4sturniolo @ivysturnss @bumbl3b34 @sophand4n4 @sagesturns @gwennybenny @whore4mattsturniolo @sturns-mermaid @il0vey0um0st @summersturni @ashleysturn @unknvhx @natesfavoritehoe @lizzymacdonald06 @sleepiibunniiii @plrlvssnz @patchy-icey @greekgirldreaming @moosegirl96 @sllutty-sturniolo @rinnsgalaxy @urfavvbilliemunch @pasteldreams @heartsonlyforchris @jas06sposts @elizabeth8483 @starkeysturniolo @chrisissobabygirl @emely9274 @matts-wife @courta13 @p1nkm6tter @jocelyncsblog @bamsblooming @malsmind

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

[soaln]

can i request hcs of monster trio and ace/law getting jealous of someone stealing reader’s attention?

𝓗𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 ﹒ ౨ৎ

𓏵 ﹒ ┈ warnings : none, pure fluff, gender isn't mentioned I think ｡— ◟ 𖦹

𝓜𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐃. 𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘

Luffy, despite his carefree and unrefined nature, is open about his feelings for you. His youthful exuberance and boundless energy make his attachment to you both overwhelming and endearing. If someone tries to take your attention away, he doesn’t hesitate to express his feelings. His face scrunches up into an exaggerated pout, his lips puffing out as he declares, “Hey! That’s my [Y/N]!” in a tone that is both childish and possessive.

Luffy usually doesn’t care much about competition, but when it comes to you, he will go to great lengths to capture your attention. Whether it’s interrupting conversations with his signature enthusiasm or pulling you into a tight, playful hug, he makes sure everyone knows you are his priority.

If someone continues to ignore him, Luffy's behavior will become even more outrageous. He might start doing silly stunts, telling jokes, or even challenging the intruder to a goofy competition—all to get your attention back. His actions are loud, chaotic, and completely in character, but they stem from a place of genuine affection.

𝓡𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐀 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎

Zoro’s jealousy is as sharp and precise as his swordsmanship. He’s not one to wear his emotions openly, but when someone catches your attention, his stoic demeanor becomes a little more intense. His arms cross, his gaze narrows, and his silence speaks volumes. He doesn’t need words to convey his displeasure.

If the situation escalates, Zoro's pride won't allow him to stand by without taking action. He'll find a way to involve himself, often pretending that he needs your help with something trivial, like adjusting his swords or reaching for a drink. His movements are deliberate, and his tone remains casual, but his piercing gaze is always fixed on the intruder.

Zoro’s jealousy is subtle yet powerful. He doesn’t create a scene, but his actions and presence are enough to remind everyone—especially you—that he’s not someone to be underestimated when it comes to matters of the heart.

𝓥𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

Sanji’s jealousy is as intense and dramatic as his personality. When someone tries to capture your attention, his romantic nature ignites like a storm. His words are filled with passion and possessiveness, and his voice drips with charming sweetness as he declares, “Darling, you should know, no one could ever treat you the way I do!”

His jealousy is anything but subtle. He showers you with flirtatious compliments while his eyes smolder with intensity, casting pointed glances at anyone he sees as a threat. Sanji's love language revolves around grand gestures, which he uses to remind you—and everyone else—that you are his muse, his one and only.

If the situation requires it, Sanji will go all out. He might prepare an extravagant meal just for you, presenting it with a theatrical bow and flourish. His jealousy is intertwined with passion, spectacle, and an unwavering devotion that is impossible to ignore.

𝓟𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐆𝐀𝐒 𝐃. 𝐀𝐂𝐄

Ace’s jealousy is subtle, reflecting his laid-back personality, yet it runs deep. When someone captures your attention, he observes from a distance, maintaining a calm expression while his gaze remains intense. A quiet tension fills the air, and a slight change in his demeanor reveals the depth of his feelings.

If the intruder persists, Ace will step in with his trademark charm and ease. His words are teasing, his tone light, but there’s a possessiveness lurking beneath the surface. “Careful, they might bite,” he might say with a smirk, his voice smooth and affectionate. “You wouldn’t want to get too close.”

Ace’s jealousy is never overt, but it’s always present. He doesn’t need grand gestures or dramatic declarations to remind you where his heart lies. His quiet confidence and subtle actions speak louder than words ever could.

𝓣𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃. 𝓦𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐖

Law's jealousy is a masterclass in restraint and quiet intensity. He doesn't engage in loud displays of emotion, but when someone attracts too much of your attention, his presence becomes unmistakable. He lingers in the background, his posture rigid and his gaze sharp, while his silence is heavy with unspoken possessiveness.

His actions are intentional and thoughtful. A gentle touch, a soft word, or a slight change in distance is enough to remind you—and everyone else—that you belong to him. “You seem… quite interested in them,” he might murmur, his tone cool but tinged with a hint of irritation.

When Law's patience begins to wear thin, his jealousy becomes more evident. A slight scowl, a protective arm around you, or a sharp glare at the intruder acts as a silent warning. His love is deep and intimate, and he won't hesitate to defend it with the same precision he uses in battle.