#and I am more than happy to share this and spread the good word | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ja3yun · 1 month

Text

The Doll House | Park Jongseong

doll!jay x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), soft dom!jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), punishment, pussy slapping, begging, slight choking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, princess), mentions of fire and other supernatural elements, anything else lmk! wc: 10.3k synopsis: your friend comes to visit you in the mansion after a month but her harsh words towards the dolls brings out a protective side, and jongseong lets you in on some secrets about the house and how they came to be. sunghoon | masterlist | heeseung a/n: hi! with this being the third instalment for this series, it's finally answering some questions while also posing some more! i truly enjoyed writing this chapter and i hope the little word plays and everything get your gears turning with theories! i enjoy hearing your theories so much like i can't even describe it <3 thank you so so so much for the love, i am forever grateful. likes, reblogs, feedback etc are all appreciated!

The doorbell chimes through the air, pulling your attention away from putting away the dishes in the kitchen, and a grin effortlessly spreads across your face. Mia's visit today after a month apart fills you with an immediate sense of joy. Though Jaeyun and Sunghoon are great company to keep, nothing quite compares to the presence of your best friend.

Her absence has been so obvious; her infectious energy seems to breathe life into everywhere she goes, which is a much-missed aura in this mansion; her presence has the power to dispel the shadows and chill that cling to the brick walls.

"Who could that be?" Sunghoon's voice interrupts your thoughts as he strolls around the kitchen island.

"It's Mia, remember? The friend I came here with. I told you she would be coming," you remind him gently, accepting the cup he just dried.

Sunghoon and Jaeyun both offer their assistance with the chores, but their motivations are drastically different. Jaeyun's assistance comes from a place of actually wanting to help and spend quality time with you, whereas Sunghoon is helping because the faster you finish, the sooner he can fuck you in whatever room you wind up in.

Despite your initial concerns, their dynamic surprises you as they seamlessly work in tandem. Rather than competing for your attention, they've embraced the idea of sharing you - an unexpected but pleasant development.

Jaeyun's bright smile at the island warms the room, his anticipation evident, "Will Mia be staying for the last month?" he inquires eagerly.

“Why? Is Y/N not enough?” Sunghoon jabs playfully, his eyebrow arching at his brother's question. His arms encircle your waist, drawing you close so your back is pressed against his chest as he leans his head on your shoulder, "If you'd rather be with Mia, I’m more than happy to have my baby girl all to myself," he murmurs against your neck, planting a gentle kiss on the nape.

Your skin tingles with a mix of excitement and affection as Sunghoon leaves a faint mark, a delighted expression dancing across your face.

“No, no! I was just curious," Jaeyun protests with a pout, his posture relaxing into a slight slouch. He’s so cute when Sunghoon teases him like that, you’re almost reluctant to stop it.

But before you can say anything, Sunghoon gently turns you to face him, his expression softening as he meets your gaze, "Remember," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of seriousness, "you can’t tell Mia about us, yeah?”

Of course, you knew that telling her would be disastrous no matter the outcome. She would either think you were crazy and lost your mind, or she would tell the world. Your best friend was never the best at keeping secrets.

“I know, don’t worry,” you offer the simple words as reassurance to him, which paired with the sincerity in your eyes, he gladly accepts.

Leaning in, Sunghoon lands a soft kiss on your lips, his kind gesture relieving any remaining anxieties, "Good. Now, once she's finally fucking gone, come find me in my room," he says with a sly leer, his fingers slithering teasingly over your sides - a familiar trick he uses to make you weak. You should reprimand him for speaking so dismissively about your best friend's arrival, but he just has the power to make you forget.

Sunghoon's demeanour takes a brief shift as he addresses Jaeyun, a hint of authority creeping into his tone, "And you," he gestures towards Jaeyun behind you, his expression momentarily serious, "if you're staying here, you stay absolutely still, got it?"

"Okay, Dad, jeez," Jaeyun retorts, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance at the implication that he needs to be reminded.

You grasp Sunghoon's concern, especially given that you're currently aware of the doll's secret due to Jaeyun's loose lips. However, Sunghoon's tone feels unnecessarily harsh. Jaeyun holds a special place in your heart, and you find yourself fiercely protective of him. It irks you to see Sunghoon address him in such a condescending manner, as if he's incapable of handling himself.

Feeling defensive of Jaeyun, you push against Sunghoon's arm, shooting him a stern look, a firm reminder that he should catch his tongue because both of you know how it affects Jaeyun.

The bell rings again, drawing all three of your attention back to Mia's imminent arrival. Sunghoon excuses himself to his room, and Jaeyun settles comfortably into a chair, leaving you to answer the door with the unspoken reassurance that Mia won’t uncover their secret. But then again, what if you slip up?

It's a nagging worry in the back of your mind as you approach the door. Mia knows everything about you - every hook-up, every situationship, even mundane details like what you had for breakfast each morning. She's your confidante for everything, even the embarrassing stuff like bursting spots on your backside. With her, nothing is off-limits.

You remind yourself to keep your wits about you, to guard your words carefully in Mia's presence. The last thing you need is to accidentally let slip the truth about the dolls and your illicit affairs with them.

You need to keep your wits about you.

As you swing open the door, greeted by the radiant presence of the angel you call your best friend, every worry and concern fades into the background. Her infectious smile and warm embrace envelop you, dispelling any lingering doubts or anxieties.

"Baby!" you exclaim, unable to contain your excitement as you wrap Mia in a tight embrace, swinging her from side to side. Though it's only been a month since you last saw her, it feels like an eternity.

Mia reciprocates your enthusiasm, squeezing you just as tightly, the warmth of her embrace filling you with a sense of homecoming. Both of you laugh and struggle to breathe amidst the suffocating love you shower upon each other, relishing in the joy of being reunited.

"God, I've missed you. It's so boring back in the city without you," Mia confesses, her words honest as she finally draws back to assess you. Suddenly, she pushes you to arm's length, her hands gripping your shoulders as she scrutinises you with a sceptical expression. With a flick of her finger, she motions for you to turn around, and you oblige, doing a quick twirl to indulge her curiosity.

You give her a quizzical look, tilting your head in silent inquiry as to what she's up to. "You're glowing, like literally, you look fucking amazing," she observes, her eyes scanning you from head to toe.

"Don't I always?" you jest in response.

"Obviously, but you've got that honeymoon glow," Mia insists, walking into the house but not before nudging you with her shoulder. "Is there a hot gardener here that I don't know about, hmm?"

Laughing, you shake your head, dismissing her playful insinuations. You make a conscious effort to maintain the facade, concealing your unconventional relationships with the dolls from Mia, despite her keen observations.

They must be fucking you good for her to notice a change within a minute of seeing you.

Mia follows you to the kitchen, her gaze lingering on the various porcelain dolls scattered throughout the hallway, just as she had when you both met Soonyeol for the first time. You sense her unease, evident in the hurried pace of her steps as she tries desperately to evade the watchful eyes of the dolls.

What she finds unsettling, you've grown to find some comfort in. Each time you clean them, you develop a newfound admiration for their intricate beauty and craftsmanship. Sometimes, Sunghoon will even tell you stories about certain dolls and their origins, adding to the mystique surrounding them.

Entering the kitchen, you find Jaeyun still perched on his seat, his usual joyful smile replaced by a stoic expression as he takes on his doll persona.

It’s weird to see him like this now, especially because you’ve seen him convey every emotion possible on that beautiful face of his; the solemn look he wears now just feels wrong.

"I brought non-alcoholic wine," Mia announces, reaching into her bag and producing two bottles of white wine. Since she’s driving, she’s bringing you along in her sobriety for the day. If it was easy to get an Uber in these parts, she certainly wouldn’t be settling for 0.05%.

You chuckle at the sight, "Seriously? Gary Barlow wine?" you tease, unable to resist poking fun at her choice.

Mia feigns offence, placing a hand dramatically over her heart, "I'll have you know this is my idea of a very nice day out," she retorts, her voice taking on a mock-serious tone as she quotes his TikTok video, struggling to suppress a giggle. "That, and it was £2 off with my clubcard."

You both burst into laughter, her tension from earlier dissipating as you share a lighthearted moment. Grabbing two large glasses, you place them on the table, inviting Mia to pour some for you both.

"How was the drive?" you inquire, taking a small sip of wine.

"It was fine, although longer than I remember," Mia replies with a huff, sinking into a seat opposite Jaeyun. You notice her discomfort as she eyes him, face contorting in a form of disgust, "How has it been here?" she asks, wishing to know how on earth you’re coping in a mansion with such watchful eyes.

"It's a big house, lots to clean. All in all, it's been good.” You sip your wine, struggling to maintain the facade of normalcy.

The urge to confide in Mia, to unburden yourself of the secrets weighing heavily on your shoulders, is almost overwhelming. You want to tell her about the dolls, the ominous door that almost blinded you, and the sense of anxiety you feel sometimes when you roam the hallways. But you swallow the truth down, burying it beneath layers of false smiles and empty reassurances. It's a lonely feeling, knowing that you can't share your fears and anxieties with your closest friend. But for now, it's a burden you'll have to bear alone.

Mia accepts your answer with a sceptical expression, her eyes never wavering from Jaeyun's impassive face, "It's so fucking creepy," she murmurs into her glass, her discomfort evident in her tone, "Do you actually have to place them around the house? Can't you keep them locked up or something?"

You glance at Jaeyun, hoping for a flicker of reassurance in his eyes, but they remain devoid of emotion, sending a shiver down your spine. It's unsettling to see him so detached, his usual warmth replaced by an eerie emptiness.

Gathering your resolve, you pick up your glass and move to stand beside Jaeyun, offering him a supportive smile before responding to Mia. "It's part of the job, Mia. Soonyeol entrusted me with the responsibility of caring for them," you explain, your voice tinged with a mixture of obligation and fondness.

Mia scoffs at your explanation, "Girl, you're in a mansion on your own, just clean up on the last day. It's not like she would notice," she suggests, her nose upturned in disdain. You can tell that this whole situation is deeply unsettling for her, a puzzle she can't quite solve without knowing the full truth. She will never understand until she’s in your shoes.

"It's... nice, to look after them like this," you say wistfully, casting a fond glance down at Jaeyun as you speak.

Unable to resist the urge to offer him a comforting touch, you reach out to tuck a loose strand of Jaeyun's hair behind his ear, a small gesture of affection. Jaeyun wants nothing more than to nuzzle himself into your touch but Sunghoon’s words are still ringing in his mind.

Mia observes your interaction with a mixture of curiosity and concern, her eyes flitting between you and Jaeyun as if trying to decipher the unspoken language passing between you. You’ve only ever looked at one other man the way you look at him and it was your high school sweetheart.

The connection you share with Sunghoon and Jaeyun is utterly unlike anything you've ever known. They resonate with your soul in a way that defies rational explanation, leaving you convinced that they must be otherworldly beings. There has to be more to them than just kindred spirits trapped in the shell of these dolls; no mere human soul could evoke such a profound hold over you.

She scoffs and laughs in disbelief at your act of affection, “You’ve lost it, completely lost it. Being in this house alone has driven you to insanity,” she shakes her head, crossing her arms.

You retract your hand from Jaeyun and look at her in wonder, “What do you mean?”

It’s completely lost on you how this could look to her because for you this is normal. Soonyeol was strange in your eyes when you first arrived, Mia also accused the owner of being crazy, but now you understand Soonyeol and her attachment to her dolls.

Mia's incredulous gaze flickers between you and Jaeyun, her words dripping with disdain. "Look at you fixing that stupid doll's hair!" she exclaims, her voice laced with exasperation as if your actions are the epitome of absurdity, "You're going to turn into that creepy bitch who lives here."

Her words cut through the air like a knife, slicing through the fragile peace of the moment. You can’t feel it but you know Jaeyun would be tensing under her words if he had the ability to. Jaeyun doesn’t like it when people talk bad about his owner, especially since the reason Mia finds her so creepy is because of him and his brothers.

He does understand to an extent that Soonyeol being so young and cooped up with four dolls in a mansion that can only rival the one in Saltburn might be seen as weird, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear about it, considering the passing comment is from someone who knows nothing about her.

You place a calming hand on Jaeyun's shoulder, your protective instincts kicking into high gear. "Listen, if you're going to run your mouth, just fucking go," you retort harshly, your voice fueled by your need to shield Jaeyun from Mia's unnecessary commentary.

Mia's eyes widen in disbelief, her expression a mixture of shock and frustration. "Y/N, listen to yourself," she chides, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment, “You've gone stark crazy... maybe you should come home-"

"No!" The word bursts from your lips in a panic, cutting off Mia's well-meaning suggestion before she can finish. The thought of leaving sends a wave of fear coursing through you.

Mia recoils at your outburst, taken aback by the intensity of your reaction. "Y/N, I don't think it's good for you here," she pleads, her tone softening as she reaches out to touch your arm.

But you pull away, shaking your head vehemently. "You literally said I was glowing all but 10 minutes ago," you snap back, narrowing your eyes at her, "Just fucking go."

There's a moment of tense silence as Mia processes your words, her expression shifting from concern to anger. She knows there's no reasoning with you when you're in this state, and she can sense the wall you've built around yourself.

"Fine. I'll see you when you screw your head back on," she spits out at you, her voice dripping with ire and disappointment. With one final, venomous glare at Jaeyun, she grabs her bag and storms out of the room, her footsteps echoing through the halls.

You're left standing there, the echoes of her departure ringing in your ears. Despite the sting of her words, you can't bring yourself to regret your decision to kick her out. At the end of the day, this is the dolls’ house and you wouldn’t like it if someone came into your flat and disrespected you or your belongings.

But you can’t help but process her words as you calm down. You know she is just looking out for you, showing her genuine concern because she knows what isolation can do to someone and their mental state, and maybe she is right. You are attached to the dolls way beyond your own comprehension and it’s taken you just now to truly realise it.

You cussed out your best friend to protect the feelings of a doll. It's a sobering thought, one that fills you with a sense of unease and self-doubt.

Maybe you should have gone with her, go back to your normal life, and forget about this place.

In the silence of the room, you turn to Jaeyun, and suddenly any wish to leave vanishes. Just like that. His face now upturned to look at you with sorrow. He looks so beautiful in this light that his being is almost angelic.

You cup his face with your hands, using your thumbs to stroke any semblance of comfort into him before speaking, "She doesn't mean it, Jaeyun," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper in the hushed atmosphere of the room, "She just doesn't understand."

Jaeyun nods slowly, knowing that you’re trying to appease his mind but what’s said has already bruised him.

Kissing Jaeyun's nose, you offer him a tender smile before gently patting his cheeks. With a sigh, you reluctantly release your hold on him, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, "I'll go check on the others," you murmur softly, "I'll be back in a bit."

_____

You shake off whatever you’re feeling and head through the mansion to help the other dolls. Admittedly, your task for moving them around has become much easier now that Jaeyun and Sunghoon move freely except for dinner time, which has freed up a good chunk of your time.

Each step you take echoes softly off the aged floorboards, their worn surfaces groaning beneath your weight. Sunlight filters sparingly through the windows, casting long shadows that dance across the dimly lit passages, adding to the eerie yet enchanting atmosphere of the mansion.

Sometimes you wonder about its history and its owner. How did a 20-something obtain such a grand house and why does she live alone? Of course, she has the boys but even then you can’t exactly take them on a night in the town. It’s so strange to see someone your age devoid of the usual life a young person would lead; no mobile, no wi-fi, not even a computer in sight.

The more you stay here though, you understand her a little bit better. There’s a comfort in the way this mansion takes your superficial worries away, like how many likes you have on your Instagram post or how people perceive you in general. The eyes that follow you here can’t pass judgment on you, which at the beginning was terrifying but now brings you a strange sort of solace.

As you navigate the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion, you can't help but feel a sense of companionship with the dolls scattered throughout. With each step, you offer a soft greeting to your porcelain companions, their frozen expressions seeming to acknowledge your presence in return. If Mia stayed that day, maybe she wouldn’t have felt so threatened by them.

"Hello there, lovely," you murmur as you pass a doll perched on a velvet chaise longue, her delicate features bathed in the subdued sunlight streaming through the window. You straighten her white-laced dress and smile politely.

Even though the porcelain girl remains silent, you know she’s thankful.

You asked Sunghoon if it was just the four of them who could talk, curious about the dolls that decorate the shelves of the house. He informed you that they aren't sentient beings but each one has a complex past and represents an identity in their own way. Ever since then, you’ve started to view them differently, a new appreciation for them blooming.

While you’re fixing a doll standing regally on the shelf by a towering grandfather clock, her elegant gown billowing around her like a ghostly mist, a faint melody drifts into your ears. It's a common occurrence, though typically happens in the dead of night. Sometimes, in the quiet hours, the strains of a piano tune or the gentle plucking of guitar strings would echo through the halls, adding to the mansion's eerie ambience.

On your first few nights here, it made you quiver under your bed quilt but now you’ve come to find it a beautiful lullaby.

Following the source of the music, you're drawn to the open doors of the music room, their inviting stance beckoning you inside. Peering around the wall, you catch sight of one of the dolls seated with a guitar, fingers moving across the strings with practised ease.

His head hangs low, a curtain of dark brown hair obscuring half of his face, yet you recognize him instantly. It's Jongseong, his broad shoulders and golden complexion a telltale sign, along with his sharp jawline drawing attention to the almost heart-shaped mark on his neck.

You can't help but admire the striking beauty that emanates from him, even in this quiet moment of solitude. Sunghoon and Jaeyun's stories about his kindness flood you and memories of his selfless gestures are etched vividly in your brain.

You recall the time when Jongseong risked getting caught just to offer you a simple plaster for your pricked finger, his compassion shining through despite the potential consequences. And then there are the small, subtle acts of care that he continues to bestow upon you, like the glass of water that mysteriously appears by your bedside table each morning, a silent gesture of his thoughtfulness.

Then there's the delicate daisy that sometimes rests on your pillow before you go to bed for the night, a token from the front garden that Jongseong must have plucked with care, knowing how much you adore its simple beauty. Every day you go outside and admire the flower as it basks in the summer sun, its life a brightness to contrast the otherwise dreary house.

Jaeyun and Sunghoon both deny any involvement in the sweet actions, leaving Jongseong as the only possible culprit.

“You can come in you know,” his voice suddenly speaks over the gently strum.

Your breath catches at the unexpected sound of his voice, and you freeze in place, startled by his acknowledgement of your presence. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if you imagined it, but the gentle strumming of the guitar persists, a soothing backdrop to his quiet words.

With cautious steps, you inch further into the room, the rhythmic thud of your heart echoing in your ears and adding percussion to his song. Jongseong's gaze remains fixed on the strings of the guitar, his hair casting shadows across his face that do little to mask his smirk.

Now how does he know that you know about him?

Jongseong suddenly screeches the guitar to a halt, his eyes lifting to meet yours with an air of knowingness, "You seem in shock for some reason," he observes, his voice soft yet perceptible in the stillness of the room. With careful precision, he returns the guitar to its glass cabinet.

Your heart skips a beat, torn between maintaining the facade of ignorance and embracing the truth about Jongseong's secret. As his gaze holds yours, uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving your voice hesitant and faltering. "I... I am?" you manage to utter, the words tinged with a hint of doubt.

Wow, so convincing, Y/N, you internally chastise yourself for the lacklustre response, feeling the weight of your indecision bearing down on you. But before you can gather your thoughts and make a quick save for your fumble.

"Jaeyun and Sunghoon are terrible liars," he remarks, his voice calm and composed. "And I saw you just there, comforting Jaeyun because of what your friend said."

His candid admission catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Just like Sunghoon, Jongseong quickly discerned the truth, his thoughts solidified by Mia's careless words and your instinctive need to shield Jaeyun.

Exhaling slowly, you release the tension that had knotted your muscles, allowing yourself to relax a fraction. "She really doesn’t mean it," you clarify to Jongseong, hoping to ease his mind as you had done with his brother.

"It’s okay, you look fucking crazy, to be fair, fussing over some dolls," he replies, his tone surprisingly nonchalant, much to your relief. Considering Jongseong’s caring nature, you wouldn’t want her words to bruise his kind spirit.

You bristle at his casual reference to them as 'dolls,' unable to bear the thought of diminishing their significance, "You aren’t just 'some dolls,' Jongseong," you protest, your voice laced with compassion.

Rising from his seat, Jongseong offers a faint smile as he approaches you with unthreatening steps. "We know that, but she doesn’t. Don’t be too hard on her," he reassures calmingly, his words like a balm to the part of your brain that had been feuding with Mia, now quieting and subsiding under his simple wisdom.

As his hand gently strokes your hair, you feel a sense of comfort wash over you, his touch soothing the lingering unease in your mind. His fingers then trace down to your chin, his touch tender, "You’re good with him, you know, with Jaeyun," he observes softly, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that draws you in.

"He brings out a protective side of me, I don’t really know why," you admit quietly, your eyes locked with Jongseong's as you speak. His half-smirk in response only deepens the adoration reflected in your widened pupils. He closes his eyes like he knows something you don't.

Jongseong playfully pinches your chin before withdrawing his hand, "Yeah, Soonyeol has been the same ever since she got him," he remarks.

"Have you been here longer than him?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued as you gesture towards the kitchen where you left Jaeyun.

"I’ve been here for…a long time," Jongseong reveals, his voice tinged with a hint of reminiscence, "Heeseung for 8, Sunghoon for 4, and Jaeyun just over a year.."

The weight of his words swirls in your mind, each year marking a chapter in their shared history within the mansion's walls. You find yourself marvelling at the depth of their experiences, each doll carrying different memories and stories within their hollow frames. It now makes sense why Jaeyun knows so little.

That nugget of information must also mean that Jongseong knows everything there is to know about this place, about each of his brothers, if he has been here for so long. Maybe asking him will unlock the mysteries of this place.

"I'm not trying to pry," you begin tentatively, causing Jongseong to lift his brow in curiosity, "But how can you guys...how are you able to talk?" Your voice trails off slightly as you pose the question, a hint of apprehension colouring your words.

To your surprise, Jongseong chuckles softly and smiles wider in response, "Sunghoon mentioned you were snooping around when you arrived," he remarks, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes. After a moment of silence, he lets out a long breath, contemplating his next actions before continuing, "You won't give up until we tell you, will you?"

His words catch you off guard, a mixture of relief and curiosity flooding through you. Despite your initial hesitation, Jongseong's casual response reassures you, hopefully paving the way for an open and honest conversation that can curb your nosiness.

“Come on and I’ll show you.”

_____

With intertwined fingers, Jongseong leads you into the library, your mind buzzing with anticipation at the possibilities of what he could be showing you. You grip his hand tighter, excitement coursing through your veins as he pulls you towards the far end of the room.

But as you near that god-awful painting of the sheep, a sense of dread washes over you, sending a chill down your spine. Suddenly, you release Jongseong's hand, the realisation of what he's doing hitting you like a ton of bricks.

"Oh, no, no, no," you protest vehemently, shaking your head in refusal, "I am NOT going near that room."

Your mind flashes back to the burning sensation in your eyes, the eerie red light searing into your retinas. Over the past few weeks, you've actively avoided that creepy room, refusing to even glance in its direction. Your curiosity may be insatiable, but you draw the line at risking letting out whatever is in there just in the name of discovering a secret.

Your irises mirror the turmoil within you, reflecting the fear and trepidation that grips your heart. You've made a vow to steer clear of that door and any other painting in this place, focusing your investigations on less ominous artefacts like locked cupboards and hidden pages within books.

Jongseong looks at you with concern, his brows furrowing in disbelief as he processes your words, “You know about this door?" he asks incredulously, wondering how on earth you ever managed to find it.

"Yes, and I am not going near it," you retort defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest like a stubborn child, "It almost blinded me!"

As you stand your ground, refusing to budge an inch, Jongseong's expression softens, his concern evident in the gentle gaze he fixes upon you, "I promise you, Sweetheart, there is nothing in there that can hurt you, not when I'm with you, okay?" he reassures, his hand finding yours once more as he brings it to his lips, kissing away the surge of fear that threatens to engulf you.

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, knowing that he will protect you from whatever dangers may lie beyond that wooden door.

With a hesitant nod, you allow Jongseong to lead you forward, you trust him but you’re still cautious enough to keep your wits about you, trailing two steps behind him.

Reaching the top of the wooden panel that frames the door, he takes the spare key and unlocks the door. It was really in front of you the entire time and you had no clue; you’re no Sherlock Holmes, that’s for sure.

You let out a breath and scrunch your face, being ready for anything as he swings the door open. Yet, you’re met with darkness - no red light, no flickering flames, nothing like what you saw through the keyhole.

But why does that scare you more?

Jongseong pulls you in, his grip on your hand loosening as he flicks on some lanterns. The room, once plunged with darkness now has a soft glow from the lanterns as they gradually illuminate the space, revealing its secrets in flickering shadows.

It's a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion, with its black stone walls absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. The air feels heavy with the weight of something you can’t put your finger on, every corner whispering tales of those you’ll never understand or know.

In the centre of the room stands an altar, its surface weathered with age and a stone bowl resting atop it like an ancient relic. Symbols etched into the stone tell stories that you can’t translate, the old language lost on you.

As you take in the sight before you, a shiver runs down your spine, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity coursing through your veins. Where did the red light come from if everything in here looks like it belongs in the Addams Family house?

"What is all this?" you ask, your curiosity overcoming any sense of apprehension as you creep closer to the altar. It's reminiscent of ones you've seen in movies depicting satanic rituals, yet even with its eerie aura, you can't resist the urge to touch it, your fingers tracing the lines of its rim.

"The office," Jongseong replies casually, as if this were a mundane space for everyday tasks like taxes and emails. He flicks on the last lantern and shuts the door firmly, ensuring privacy and avoiding suspicion from any passersby.

As you stand mesmerised by the ceremonial bowl, Jongseong notices your admiration and smiles, "This is the ceremonial bowl," he begins to explain, his body now behind yours, his presence both comforting and electrifying as he presses slightly against you. His fingers intertwine with yours, guiding your touch along the edge of the bowl, "This is how we were summoned"

"Summoned?" you echo, your voice barely above a whisper as you turn to face Jongseong, your eyes wide with disbelief and intrigue.

“Oh, Sweetheart, to bring a doll to life, you need to give it an entity.”

“An entity as in…”

“Any form of life; angel, demon, human, that sort of thing. Someone calls and we answer”

The revelation sends a chill down your spine, the idea of imbuing a doll with the essence of a supernatural being is both fascinating and terrifying.

As you process this new information, you can't help but wonder about the origins of the dolls in this mansion, and the entities that dwell within them. They all possess such different charms and energies that you can only imagine each of them comes from different channels of spirits.

“So what are you then?” you ask Jongseong, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of trepidation.

“I’ll leave you to guess that one,” he replies cryptically, pressing himself up against you until your back meets the edge of the altar. The cool stone digs into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"But you aren’t scared of me, are you, Sweetheart?" he continues, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. You shake your head, unable to deny the truth, "Then that will give you some clue," he murmurs, his words hanging in the air between you like a tantalizing riddle waiting to be solved.

You stand locked in this intimate embrace, his presence gentle despite the surroundings.

“What about your bodies?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you even though you're not entirely sure what you're asking. Obviously, they didn’t come from the pits of hell or wherever they're from, but you're curious about how Soonyeol managed to choose four dolls, each so perfectly suited to their personalities.

Jongseong tilts his head slightly, considering your question before responding, "Our bodies are vessels," he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery, “We were crafted by the hands of Soonyeol, infused with the ashes of her loved ones.”

Jongseong's response sends shivers down your arms and legs, his words so compelling that they leave you speechless for a minute, "Infused with the ashes of her loved ones?" you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, your head whirling, your throat dry as you attempt to swallow your nerves.

But before you can fully process what he said, Jongseong breaks out laughing, the sound reverberating off the walls of the poorly lighted room, "She just ordered them online," he says between laughter, his tone lighthearted. "That part isn't as evil unless you count the CO2 emissions from the planes."

Relief floods through you as you realise he’s just joking. You can't help but join in his laughter, the tension melting away as you shake your head in disbelief.

"Oh, you had me going there for a moment," you admit with a chuckle, feeling foolish for having been momentarily taken in by his playful deception.

Jongseong grins mischievously, his eyes twinkling with mirth, "I can give you the link to the site if you want? I know how much fun you’ve been having with the younger ones," he remarks, his laughter fading into a sly grin.

Your cheeks burn crimson at Jongseong's implication, and you shy away slightly, feeling a familiar wave of embarrassment wash over you. It's the same feeling you experienced when Sunghoon called you out for your rendezvous with Jaeyun, a reminder of the unconventional nature of your relationships with the dolls.

You can't shake the nagging feeling that at the end of the day, you're still fucking dolls, no matter how much Sunghoon and Jaeyun reassure you to embrace it. To be fair, the embarrassment hasn’t stopped you yet.

Seeing your flushed face even in the dim light, Jongseong's expression softens with understanding. He cradles your cheeks in his palms, his touch gentle as he strokes your flushed skin, "I'm not judging you, Princess," he murmurs, his voice tender. "I'm just feeling a little left out." He says playfully, making it hard to tell if he is serious or not.

But still his words catch you off guard and you meet his stare with a mixture of surprise and confusion. At that moment, you realise that Jongseong embodies the best of both worlds - the kindness and empathy of Jaeyun, coupled with the confidence and assurance of Sunghoon, coupled with his charm. It's a combination that draws you to him even more, creating a sense of longing.

Throwing caution to the wind, you act on impulse, letting go of any lingering doubts or hesitations. With a surge of boldness, you lean up and press your lips against Jongseong's, catching him off guard with the suddenness of your actions.

His eyes widen in shock at your sudden boldness, but they quickly darken with unmistakable hunger as he responds eagerly to your advance, smothering your mouth with his.

The kiss is electric, igniting a firestorm of sensations that consume you both, leaving you breathless and craving more. His lips are soft yet demanding against yours, his hands finding purchase on your waist as he pulls you closer, his touch somehow searing hot through your skin.

Jongseong groans as he dances his tongue with yours, the artificial buds on his muscle soaking in your taste. You suck on his tongue softly, eliciting a low snarl from him, his hand coming up to grip your hair roughly, while yours slide up his t-shirt, feeling the bumps of his toned tummy.

Drawing back from his lips, you see his entity burning with desire, his grip on you tightening, “Have you ever been fucked on an altar?” he asks, a smirk obvious on his face even in the dull lighting.

“No,” you breathe out, your chest heaving from the kiss.

“I’ll change that for you…if you’re a good girl,” he teases, the hand wrapped in the strands of your hair pushing your head down until you’re slowly following his guidance, sinking to your knees. From this angle, he looks like a god, a being worth worshipping as his aura glows white.

You know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give it to him without question.

He undoes his belt with one hand, whipping it off hastily and placing it on the altar. You start to undo his trousers but as you move to assist him, your actions are abruptly halted by a sharp tug on your hair, forcing you back with a gasp.

Tears threaten to well in your eyes as the roots of your hair protest the forceful grip, but Jongseong's touch softens as quickly as it had hurt you, his hand now tenderly soothing the discomfort he caused.

"I need you to be good for me. It’s important to be good," he asserts, his voice commanding yet soft, "Only act when I say so, understood? I don't want to have to punish you, Princess. You don’t want that either, do you?"

His choice of words and gentle warning only add to the dampness in your pants, the material fully sticking to your wet cunt. You swallow hard as every word, every touch from Jongseong ignites your sense of being.

Shaking your head, you wonder if you want to obey him and avoid punishment as part of you wonders how far he could go with it.

Jongseong’s a gentle soul with kindness pouring out of him, you question whether it’s a facade to hide something more demanding underneath. Either way, you trust him, so even if you wanted to get a little bratty, you know he would cause you no real harm.

Both his hands are now on your cheeks, trapping you to look at him, “Words, Princess, use them,” he orders.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, licking your lips as you anticipate his cock laying firm on your tongue.

“Sweetheart, I’ll let you off this once, yeah? Just make sure you listen from now on,” Jongseong offers you a smile, patting your cheeks lightly before continuing, “If you ever want to stop, or I go too far, you tell me immediately. No amount of my pleasure is worth your discomfort.”

Smiling, you nod and quickly remember his instructions, “I will, Jongseong.”

Jongseong's gaze relaxes further with an accepting nod, and his touch is delicate against your skin, "Good girl," he says, his words a quiet affirmation of your submission.

He gives you the go-ahead to continue undoing his trousers which you eagerly do, your fingers quick to release the silver button and pull down his zip, leaving his trousers pooled at his ankles. You can see his member in the protruding silhouette of his boxers. Out of all the dolls, you’ve been most impressed by Jongseong, his cock is everything a person could dream of; girthy, long, like something off of Love Honey in the best seller’s section.

You discard his boxers next, leaving his member to spring into action. He is so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, admiring every part of the craftsmanship that went into making such a wonder. Raising your hand, you go to wrap your hand around him gently but you pause, realising you probably need to be told that you can indulge yourself.

Jongseong notices your hesitation and lets out a chuckle, his smile morphing into a knowing smirk as you meet his gaze with eager anticipation, "You're free to go, Princess" he announces, much to your delight, and you need no further encouragement.

Grabbing the base of his shaft you pump him a few times, the soft feeling of his skin welcomed along your fingertips. You open your mouth, staring at him as you lick the tip of his shaft a few times, each time pulsing in your hand. The mechanics of these cocks is a wonder, how realistic they all are.

He gathers your hair in his hands, brushing the wispy strands from your face adoringly, careful not to be too rough with you just yet. You look beautiful to him right now, your tongue swirling around his head, the saliva trail you’re leaving behind every time you remove your plump lips to gather your breath. Soonyeol is beautiful, but you’re like his dream come true. There’s a pang of guilt as he thinks about it but when you start sucking his cock lightly, every thought goes out the window.

Hollowing your cheeks, you pump his cock and use your tongue to massage his bell in your warm mouth, the sensation of his cold cock in contrast to your warmth adds a new layer to your pleasure, already excited to feel him deep in your heat.

His size makes it difficult to fully take him in, so you use a combination of hand and mouth technique. You see the small subtleties in Jongseong's expression - the wrinkle of his brow, the tightening hold of his fist that inadvertently tugs at your hair again - and realise he doesn't mind how you are approaching it, he maybe even loves it.

It gives you a flutter in your tummy as you see his jaw slacking and his hips subconsciously twitching with pleasure. You’re an overachiever, have been your whole life, and while this is doing him wonders right now, you know you can do better.

Popping off his cock, you tap him on your outstretched tongue, grinning widely when his eyes meet yours. With his attention on you, you force him back in your throat, gagging slightly but relishing in the burn, your hands gripping his muscular thighs.

He hisses as with each bob, he hits your throat, “Fuck,” he grits out, pushing slightly to test the boundaries, and when you gag loudly, saliva dripping down your chin with a spurt, he instantly retreats, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he soothes, his hand lifting your chin.

But you liked it, weirdly, the feeling of choking on his cock stirred something inside you, and your thighs become sticky with your arousal that is dripping down - and Jongseong noticed.

“Wait did you like it?” he asks, tightening his hold on your jaw, “You want me to fuck that beautiful throat of yours wide open?”

God, yes.

With a nod and eyes full of want, you silently express your desire for him to completely ruin you. However, as you resume, a swift smack to your cheek jolts you, rendering a grimace as you look up at him, perplexed.

"Words, Sweetheart, be a good girl," Jongseong prompts, his voice carrying both authority and care. A flicker of understanding crosses his expression as he reaches out to stroke your cheek where his hand had landed moments before. "I'm here to give you what you need," he reassures, his touch tender against your skin, "But you have to tell me."

With a deep breath, you muster the courage to voice your desire, "I want you to fuck my throat," you whisper.

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" he murmurs, his tone gentle as he encourages your honesty. ain some ways, submitting to a man like this is embarrassing, yet you can’t help but feel completely in control at the same time. He’s giving you the option to have whatever you want, something the other two don’t let you do. Jaeyun lets you take control but it’s all for his pleasure, not for your own, and Sunghoon doesn’t let you do anything on your own at all.

As Jongseong begins to push into your mouth, an upsurge of sensations overwhelms you: the hardness of him filling your mouth, the taste of him combining with your saliva, and the sting of tears welling up in your eyes. Despite this, a pleasure runs through your veins, sparking a burning yearning within you, you want more of him, desperately.

Jongseong's voice cut through the veil of your shared satisfaction, "You're doing so well, Sweetheart," he says, his words a calming symphony contrasting to the burning in your throat.

You respond with a muffled moan, your mouth full as you eagerly take him in, your body responding instinctively to his every touch.

"I love how you take me," Jongseong whispers, his voice laced with reverence and desire, "You're so good for me. You were born to suck on my cock.”

His words alone are making your clit throb and you can’t take the emptiness, so, you reach down and dip your hand into your panties, circling your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. He continues chanting your praises, so lost in the feeling of your mouth that he hasn’t noticed you seek your own pleasure.

As Jongseong continues to revel in the pleasure of your mouth, a sudden interruption jolts him from his trance-like state. Feeling the subtle shift in your movements, he realises what you’re up to.

With a swift motion, he withdraws from your mouth, his grip firm on your head as he pulls you up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, a mix of desire and admonition as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and needy, beneath him.

"Sweetheart, what do you think you're doing?" he chides, his voice low but commanding, “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself, did it?"

“N-no…I just need you so bad, Jongseong.”

Your quivering voice of desperation makes Jongseong’s knees weak, that playful yet needy glint in your eye begging him to take you on the altar. He knows he has to punish you but you look so fucking sweet with your lips plump and drool on either side of your mouth that he’s almost forgiving you. You speak about the power the dolls have, but you have no idea the power you hold over them.

But he knows he can't let your transgression go unpunished. With a sigh, he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch gentle but firm. "I understand, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice tinged with feigned regret, "But rules are rules, and I can't make exceptions."

You accidentally let out a groan of frustration, rubbing your thighs together, hoping the friction can tide you over until he touches you.

sighing, Jongseong reaches out to caress your trembling thighs, his touch gentle yet possessive, "I know you're desperate," he murmurs into your neck, teasingly hovering over your nape with his lips, “So get on the fucking altar.”

With a whimper of surrender, you comply without hesitation, the anticipation of what's to come heightening your senses as you hoist up on the alter, positioning yourself on the edge. Every nerve in your body hums with anticipation, the need for his touch driving you to the brink of madness.

You’re glad that you wore a sundress today, planning to have a fun girls' day with Mia had its benefits even if it went horribly wrong.

In an instant, he rips off your panties, tossing them in the alter bowl haphazardly and hikes the skirt of your dress to your waist. Your pussy looks so delectable that he thinks prolonging stuffing you with his cock might be a punishment to himself rather than you.

But Jongseong is a man of his word, and if he doesn’t let Soonyeol away with anything, he certainly can’t let you.

He slaps your thigh sharply, a red mark appearing instantly against your skin, “Move back,” he demands, slapping your thigh once again. His tone is authoritive so you do as you’re told, not wanting to disappoint him anymore.

You spread your legs without direction, hoping your compliance will warrant an early yield in your punishment, whatever it may be. Jongseong licks his lips and smiles triumphantly, falling into your trap.

Yet, just as you begin to feel a glimmer of relief, Jongseong's hand comes down with brutal force, striking your pussy with a harsh slap that echoes through the room. The pain is searing, making you cry out in shock and agony, the sound reverberating off the walls as your body recoils from the impact. Each consecutive smack creates a new wave of pain, coupled with a surge of stimulation that makes you dizzy with sensations.

With each hit, Jongseong's expression regret, yet his actions are a contradiction of brutality, "I'm sorry, Princess," he says between strikes, his voice heavy with sorrow, even as his hand strikes you again, "I know it hurts but every act of defiance deserves punishment," Jongseong whispers, his voice an odd soothing balm, "We’re almost done, just two more, you can handle that right?”

His question, paired with the gentle caress of his fingers against your throbbing pussy, relaxes you, knowing that he meant it when he said he would stop if you wanted him to. Even now, as he looks at you, he's silently permitting you to end this.

But you don't want to. Not yet. The ache between your legs, the desperate need for him, drives you to endure just a little longer, "I can take it, Jongseong," you utter, your voice steady despite the trembling of your body. With a slow exhale, you brace yourself for the final two strikes, determined to prove your endurance and earn the reward awaiting you.

Jongseong's gaze softens with admiration, his hand hovering momentarily before delivering the next blow, "You're so strong, Princess," he murmurs, his voice laced with genuine admiration, "I'm proud of you."

The words, spoken amid your ordeal, fill you with a sense of validation, a reassurance that despite the pain, you're still cherished and valued in his eyes. Even though he warned you this would happen and you disobeyed him, he still gives you praise.

He delivers the last smack with force, putting punctuation on the end of your punishment, hoping that you’ve learned your lesson. And by fuck you have.

Bringing you forward, he sits you up straight, "You've done so well," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead, "Now, let me take care of you."

Without hesitation, he takes his cock and slides himself inside your throbbing pussy, the sensation being both a culmination of need and a reminder of the pain you've endured.

But as he begins to move within you, the rhythm of his thrusts slow and deliberate, you find yourself surrendering to the pleasure that washes over you. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming as you finally get what you've been craving for.

You moan softly, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch.

But just as you feel yourself on the brink of ecstasy, Jongseong pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for more. "Please," you whimper, your voice thick with need.

Jongseong's fingers find their way to your throbbing clit, flicking it with expert precision, "Not yet, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, "I want to make this last."

The sensation is electrifying, sending you reeling with desire as Jongseong teases you mercilessly. "Jongseong," you plead, your voice a desperate cry for more but he only chuckles, his touch driving you to the edge of sanity as he pushes you closer and closer to the brink.

And then, just when you think you can't take it any longer, he plunges back inside you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the edge of oblivion once more, "Yes!" you cry out, your body arching against his as pleasure consumes you.

Just as you're about to tip over the edge, Jongseong grips your throat gently, his touch both commanding and reassuring, posing no real threat, "You're such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he grabs your attention, "Yet, you've been so bad. Snooping around, looking at things you shouldn't, fucking things that aren't yours." There’s a sly grin on his face as he pulls out again, leaving your hole clenching around nothing, tears threatening to fall as your impending orgasm is ripped away from you again.

Jongseong continues to torment you, his words cutting through the haze of desire, you can't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you, "Was the last punishment enough for everything you've been up to?" he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and a hint of warning.

Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his stare, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the air. You know that you've pushed the boundaries, looking around the mansion even when you promised Sunghoon you wouldn’t, and indulged in pleasures that were not yours to claim.

With a shaky breath, you nod slowly, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, Jongseong," you murmur, your heart pounding in your chest, "I've learned my lesson."

“Oh, yeah?” he smirks, looking at the ceremonial bowl prettily decorated with your frilly underwear, “You sure?”

Your desperation mounts as you chant a series of "Yes's," your pleas echoing in the cold air of the room. Every fibre of your being screams for him, the ache between your legs driving you to the brink of madness.

And just when you think you can't bear the anticipation any longer, Jongseong plunges back into you, his gaze still fixated on your underwear. The intensity of his thrusts sends shivers of pleasure running through your hot veins, yet beneath it all, a nagging curiosity tugs at the edges of your consciousness.

If you were in your right mind, you would question his fascination with the garments adorning the ceremonial bowl. As he picks up the frilly underwear with his middle finger, a spike of anticipation plagues you, mingling with the pulsating waves of pleasure emanating from his touch. And then, his voice cuts through the air, commanding and authoritative.

"Spit on them, Sweetheart," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without hesitation, you comply, summoning every ounce of saliva you can muster before releasing it onto the delicate fabric. The sight of your saliva coating the underwear sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of arousal and confusion swirling within you.

But before you can question his motives, Jongseong's touch intensifies, driving you to the brink of ecstasy once more and rips it away as he tosses the underwear into the bowl once more.

“No! Please, please, don’t stop fucking me, Jongseong. I promise I won’t snoop around or do anything without you telling me to.”

Your voice is desperate but you don’t care, if he denies you of your orgasm even just once more, you might die on this altar you’re perched on.

Jongseong's eyes light up with expectation, his hand tightening around your throat in a possessive hold while his other lingers over the ceremonial bowl, his muttering casting a dark spell in a foreign language.

Then suddenly, the crimson light floods the room, the same flash of red that almost blinded you. Terror holds you like a vice, pulling at your senses while flames lick hungrily in the air. Instinct urges you to go, to escape the flame that threatens to engulf you, but Jongseong's grip holds you tied to the altar.

There is no escape.

"Shhh, Princess it's okay, it won't hut you. I just need you to beg me," he says, his stare penetrating through the chaos with uncompromising focus, his left hand now sliding to tap on your clit with planned precision, sending waves of thrill surging through your body as he continues, lips hovering yours in a whisper, “Let Hell hear how much you need my cock.”

Hell.

The fire that is burning your skin beside you, that’s what you saw that day through the keyhole, you came face to face with the underworld. And now Jongseong’s opened it up beside you.

Summoning every ounce of courage you possess, you meet his gaze, your voice a trembling whisper as you utter the words he demands. "Please, Jongseong," you beg, the desperation in your tone echoing through the dimly lit chamber, "Fuck me, I need your cock so fucking bad."

His grasp on your throat tightens somewhat, a subtle acceptance of your surrender. With a hungry grin, he moves in closer, his breath hot on your ear, whispering pretty promises, and as his hand continues to work its magic on your clit, you totally yield to him despite the fear rising inside you.

Kissing you, he fucks back into you, letting go of your throat and focusing all his attention on making you feel good, his hands finding home on your hips.

The more you moan, the more intense the fire becomes, some of the flicker burning your arm. Jongseong notices your unease and focuses your eyes to look only at him, “It can’t hurt you, I wouldn’t let them,” he whispers, his words causing more confusion but you’re already so far gone, lost in the feeling of his cock punching into your cervix that you can’t question him.

"You're doing fucking amazing, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration and desire. "I want you to scream my name, let all those fucks know what a good girl you are, that you’ll never be like them.” His jab at those below you in the underworld makes your skin tingle.

With each thrust, pleasure courses through you like wildfire, igniting every nerve ending and leaving you breathless with ecstasy. And as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, you heed Jongseong's command, your screams echoing through the chamber as you give yourself over to him.

The flames in the bowl seem to dance to the rhythm of you and Jongseong’s passionate encounter, with each blow of his cock piercing your open, the more you cry out, and that excited the crimson glow.

As the intensity of your pleasure builds to a crescendo, you feel yourself teetering on the edge, every fibre of your being yearning for release. And with one final, desperate cry, you let go, surrendering yourself completely to the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that wash over you.

Jongseong feels you coming undone and follows suit, his cock twitching inside you and hips pushing him as far as he can reach inside you.

Once the fires begin to fade, leaving just embers blazing gently in the darkness, you feel yourself returning to reality, your senses gradually returning to you. You notice the air is thick with the odour of burnt cloth and the remains of the fire that previously raged around you.

With a shock, you look down and notice the charred remains of your underwear smouldering in the ceremonial bowl, the flames having eaten them in their fervour. Panic grabs you for a minute, but suddenly Jongseong's voice breaks through the quiet, his words a calming salve.

"I get why the others are obsessed with you, Y/N," he says, his tone filled with admiration and longing, "You belong here, I know you do."

Despite his assuring words and gentle touch as he slips out of you, his hands soothing where he has left marks, lingering questions gnaw at the edges of your mind. "Jongseong," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "what was that fire? And what did you mean by 'those fucks' down there? Was it hell?"

Jongseong’s expression softens, his fingers gently caressing your thighs, his actions were stupid and selfish in the name of his brothers and Soonyeol. He knows he shouldn’t have done that, but he just had to show you off, let everyone know that you were his at least once, “Y/N," he says softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and concern, "there are some things you're better off not knowing. Trust me."

His words give you pause but you’re sick of the secrecy now, “Tell me, Jongseong. I will find out one way or another,” you press him, hoping your tone is half as commanding as he was, “Just tell me, what the fuck was that?”

“Go to Heeseung. He can explain it far better than I can and to be honest, I don’t want to see your face when you find out,” he says suddenly, his tone firm but gentle. Confusion flickers in your eyes, but before you can question him further, Jongseong presses a tender kiss to your forehead, “I will warn you though, Sweetheart, he won’t take kindly to being last.”

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #jay smut #jongseong smut #jay x reader #aj writes #park jongseong smut #the doll house #enhypen fic

1K notes · View notes

distantdarlings · 3 months

Text

SUPPORT SYSTEM // Slytherin Boys

RATING: PG-13 / 2.2K WORDS

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* When a few Gryffindors start spreading rumors that the Slytherin boys only hang around you because they’re sharing you, you’re hesitant to share this information with them. (Slight Angst, Comedy?)

+ WARNINGS - Language, some sexual discussion (very small amount), bullying, secrets, implied fight, not proof-read (lmk if I’ve missed anything)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Sarah - Alex G

- - -

As soon as your eyes opened that morning, you found yourself regretting even waking up. The memories of yesterday were flooding back and hitting you like a giant tidal wave, so visceral you could almost taste the salted water.

You ran a hand over your eyes, rubbing the sleep from them, and dreading the day. Despite the superior support system you had holding you up, you found yourself in a dilemma. The wonderful people you called your closest friends were what was plaguing you.

With each inhale, a flash of one of their faces would zip in front of you, deepening the nausea building in your stomach. You sigh. You couldn’t miss anymore classes, but you felt as though leaving your bed would surely breed a recipe for disaster.

Between the relentless teasing, the names you’d been called, and everything else that had been going on this week, you felt close to giving up. The only thing that had kept you powered in even the slightest way were your friends.

A knock interrupted your thoughts. A few teasing laughs broke through the thick wooden door as you swallowed the misery rising up your throat. It wouldn’t surprise you if your harrassers had decided to come knocking at your door, bringing their sneers and cruel words with them. You perked up your voice to tell the usurpers to go away when you heard a familiar shout.

The voice was lowered and joking, letting your name fall from his mouth like it was an everyday thing—which it was. You jumped up and tossed the comforter away from your body. You across the cold dorm floor and flung the heavy wooden door open.

On the other side stood three dark boys, all with varying smiles and warm eyes. Hot relief flooded your body as you let yourself fall into them.

Theo Nott stood dead center and caught your flailed body like a Quaffle. You wrapped your arms tightly around his lean body, missing the way he felt and the way he smelled. You could’ve melted into his body and lived there for the rest of your days if necessary.

To his right was Enzo Berkshire, the devilishly handsome and wickedly funny boy you called one of your best friends. He laughed aloud and tossed an arm around you as well, squeezing you between their bodies. You groaned slightly and the pressure. You turned your head.

“Come on, Matty, don’t you want to join us?” you mumbled, your cheeks squished between the two boys on either side of you.

The last boy stood back a bit, watching you amusedly. Mattheo Riddle chuckled a bit before placing a large hand over your head and mussing your hair a bit.

“I’m good, kid, but I’m grateful you’re feeling better,” he said, his voice genuine. You’d always hated when he called you ‘kid,’ as he was only a few months older than you. But, right now, you were more than happy to hear him say it.

With laughing exclamations, they all asked what you were doing and how you’ve been and if you felt any better. Amongst the constant picking you were getting from some of your classmates, you’d taken a couple days away from class and the boys because you were ‘sick.’ With white lies peppered in here and there, you explained that you were feeling much better now that they were here and that you were pretty sure you’d had some kind of stomach bug. It wasn’t totally a lie as you’d felt nauseated all weekend thinking about going back to class.

“Ready to go back to class?” Enzo asked, finally pulling away from you and allowing you a breath. Your stomach twisted at his words.

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously. “I guess I am.” Theo and Enzo smiled in response, but Mattheo gave you an odd look, raising one of his eyebrows suspiciously. You shook your head at him.

For the last month, a couple of your classmates had been mentioning things in passing to people around the school. A few of your other acquaintances, outside of the boys, had informed you of the rumors being spread. Awful things, mostly about the boys. Things you’d never even considered to be a possibility.

Luna, a friend of yours from Herbology, mentioned that some Gryffindor had spoken to a couple of her friends about you in Potions. The Gryffindor had said that you were only friends with the boys because you were interested in their money and status, and that the boys only kept you around because you were easy. That last part had made your stomach broil.

You had never, ever even wanted anything more than what you currently had with the boys. They were your best friends—almost like brothers—and there was nothing more you craved from them. Being away from them for multiple days at a time felt like you were separated from family members, not lovers. And you had never so much as mentioned their money—in fact, you refused to let them pay for dinner the majority of times. You hated when people paid for your things.

Needless to say, the words had hurt you deeply, and you’d begun to wonder how many other people thought these things about you.

You wondered that until you overhead someone talking about you in a class last week. Little whispers had been passing around behind you the entirety of the class anyway, but when you’d heard your name, you’d whipped around to see who had said it. And lo and behold, there sat the Gryffindor girl with her group of friends. Only, this time there were others leaning in and listening. Fellow Slytherins, no less.

“Are you talking about me?” you’d asked, your eyebrows furrowing in hurt and anger. Nervous eyes had glanced back and forth and all around until the Gryffindor girl—Nancy McLaggen, you’d learned was her name—spoke up with a cruel smirk on her lips.

“We were just wondering if a couple rumors were true,” she’d said, faux innocence painted on her face.

“Rumors about me? What rumors?”

“Well, we all had heard from someone in Ravenclaw that you’re being passed around the Slytherin boys.”

You had nearly choked on your spit. Nancy refused to wipe the smirk off her face, and the people around you had begun to listen in as well. Expressions of shock and amusement were scattered throughout the classroom, and you couldn’t handle it anymore. You’d swiped your books together and excused yourself from the class, ignoring your teacher’s shouts to explain yourself.

And those were the events that had led you to where you currently were—miserable and pretending to be sick to avoid your peers. It was pathetic, but you couldn’t help it. You hadn’t been able to defend yourself in class last week and you were worried you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself if it happened again.

And there was no way in hell you were telling the boys about this. There would be no hesitation from any of them to defend you, but that was exactly what you were worried about. If they tried to help you, it would only worsen your current condition. Everyone in school would see the action as them protecting their little sex toy.

Merlin, you were so embarrassed and hurt, you couldn’t stand it. You felt nauseated again.

“Actually, boys,” you started, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I’m still feeling a little sick. I might wait until next week.”

“Next week?” Theo exclaimed. “How sick are you? Are you sure you don’t need to go to the infirmary?”

“No, I’m fine,” you sigh. “You go ahead—”

“No, we’re not going anywhere!” Enzo suddenly interrupted, stepping in front of Theo. You were a bit taken aback by the sudden spike in volume.

“En, I’m fine—”

“No, there’s something very wrong, and you’re not sick.”

“Guys, please just—”

“I agree with Enzo,” Theo interrupted. You glanced desperately at Mattheo, hoping someone would stand on your side.

“Something’s up,” he shrugged. “You don’t even look sick, kid.” You rolled your eyes. That annoyance was back.

“I said I was fine, why can’t you guys believe me?” you asked, sighing at their resilience. You wanted nothing more than to be alone.

“Because we’ve known you since you were eleven, just like you’ve known us,” Theo said. “Would you just let us be if one of us was acting the way you are?”

His words gave you pause. He made a very fair point. If any of the boys standing before you was behaving as you were, you’d be concerned. You felt a bit of guilt in becoming so angry with their protectiveness. They just wanted to help—just as they always did.

“Please tell us what’s wrong,” said Enzo. You tear your eyes from theirs, finding the lines of tile in the floor.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore their pressing stares, you couldn’t. You knew you needed to talk to someone—especially one of them. If they found out through someone else, who knew what they’d do. You pressed a frustrated hand to your forehead. The pure shame you felt from having to tell them what you’d been hearing the last week felt almost synonymous with running through the halls of the castle naked.

“Okay,” you sighed in defeat. “Last week, Someone started passing some rumors around the school—rumors about me.”

The boys seemed to glance between each other a few times before resuming immediate interest in your words.

“I know that there were a few girls from Gryffindor involved; Luna was the one to tell me about them…” you paused for a moment, gathering what little pride you had left. “They’ve been telling everyone that you guys have been…passing me around.”

With the last few words, you heaved a sigh of both relief and defeat and lowered your head farther into yourself. You felt nauseated and wished you could disappear.

In a breath of time, Mattheo’s knuckles clenched painfully loud as he turned on his heel and slammed the dorm door open.

“Mattheo, no—” you started to shout, tossing yourself toward the door. Theo and Enzo caught you against them, blocking your path.

“Guys, stop! Let me go!”

“You couldn’t have expected us to hear that and be totally fine, could you?” Theo smirked, pressing a small kiss to your cheek. You groaned and shoved away from them, backing farther into your room.

“It doesn’t matter,” you shrugged. “I didn’t tell any of you who I was talking about.”

“You said it was some Gryffindors, right?” Enzo asked.

“Yes, but do you have any idea how many Gryffindors are in this castle?”

“Enough.” Theo grinned wildly, his lips spreading evilly. The two boys crossed their arms and stood resolutely in front of the door.

“He’ll never figure out who it was,” you taunted, crossing your arms. Then just below the three of you, you heard a sharp shout of rough consonants.

“WHO THE FUCK WAS TALKING ABOUT HER?”

At the sound of Mattheo’s tone, the two boys exchanged an excited glance and quickly pushed themselves through the door. As they unblocked your path, you sped toward the door.

Just as you reached the gaping threshold, they slammed the door shut right in your face. You pressed your body against the door, beating your hands on the solid wood.

“THEODORE NOTT, LORENZO BERKSHIRE, OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR!” you shrieked over their mocking laughter on the other side.

Something heavy clunked against the door and acted as their replacement as their chuckling voices disappeared down the hall.

No matter how hard you banged on the door’s solid wood, you realized you were never getting out of this unless—

You gasped and backed away from the door. Your wand. You could blast the door to pieces and repair it later.

With a successful smirk on your lips, you ran over to your bedside table and reached for the thin piece of material.

And just as your fingers curled around the wand, you heard a distant shout of “Accio!” Then your wand was flying out of your hand and zipping towards, then under the door.

You shrieked in anger before collapsing against your bed. You couldn’t believe that was going to go any other way, considering how well you knew the boys. It was well out of your hands now.

“You’ll thank us later, darling,” Enzo’s laughing voice was heard distantly through the stone walls. It took only a second for it to be drowned out by your frustrated groans and Theo’s taunting against some unknown assailant. You just hoped they wouldn’t hurt any of those students too badly…sort of.

Tag List: @lilymurphy03, @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @Yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33, @xxrougefangxx, @thatblackthorn, @robinyx, @jolly4holly, @blvebanisters, @chgrch

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #theodore nott #theo nott #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #mattheo riddle

694 notes · View notes

sinswithpleasure · 5 months

Text

Viewing Pleasure

------------------------ First fic of 2024!!! I'm happy to be squeezing out something, finally. ------------------------

You’re definitely not getting back to work for a while.

Movie scripts are hard work—words might not flow, scenarios don’t make sense, plot holes inadvertently happen, and coincidentally, all of that just happened to merge together into one massive problem ten minutes ago. You’re glad for the distraction that Gaeul provides—your girlfriend knows when to pull you out when you’re too immersed in work, too deep into writers’ block to progress anything. Right now, the distraction she serves is extremely welcome. You’re seated on your shared bed, shirt and pants discarded courtesy of Gaeul herself, boxers sporting a prominent bulge, and your girlfriend tugs her tube top off her body, arms crossed, fingers at the hem as she unwraps herself like she were a gift. She carelessly discards her top to the side, and you feast your eyes on your now-topless love, her cute, petite breasts exposed for you. You can’t help but palm your bulge, groaning at the relief it provides, and Gaeul reaches over to tug at the waistband of your boxers, a soft giggle escaping her lips at how needy you looked.

“This is a good distraction, isn’t it?”

“Fuck… yeah.”

When Gaeul tugs your boxers off, she gives your cock a few soft strokes, which leads you to softly groan and hiss in pleasure. She silences you with a short kiss, then she pulls away to finish undressing. You keep your eyes locked on her, staring with lust as she pushes her shorts off her, inch after inch of skin slowly being revealed at first, then all at once when the garment falls to the floor. Gaeul’s pussy glistens with her slick, and you can’t wait to get a taste of her. However, you’re mildly confused when she wheels over her huge mirror.

“What’re you…?”

“Oh, um…” Gaeul gives a shy grin, “Remember when we watched that porn clip together?”

You know the exact one—Gaeul had showed you a video of an amateur couple having sex in front of a mirror a week ago, and both of you had ended up getting off to it together. She’d mentioned that she’d like to try, and you were more than happy to agree.

“You wanna try it now?” You can’t help the grin that is plastered all over your face—that video was hot as hell, and so was Gaeul admitting she wanted to try it then.

“Mhm, I wanna watch us having sex.”

When Gaeul finishes positioning the mirror, she gets onto the bed with you, and you meet her in the middle for a kiss, your hands roaming the expanse of her body. One hand reaches to fondle her left breast, and the other kneads her cute ass, your tongue and hers swirling in a hot, openmouthed kiss. Gaeul doesn’t keep her hands free either—she reaches downwards to stroke your cock once more, her other hand wrapped around you for stability. Both of you moan into the kiss, vocalizing the pleasure you draw from each other’s touch.

“Fuck, Gaeul, baby, wanna fuck you already.” You softly groan your wish against Gaeul’s ear when you break the kiss, your hands latching on to your love’s hips and pulling her down closer to you. However, Gaeul has other plans.

“Not yet, babe.” Your girlfriend grabs your arm to stop you, and the suggestive, coy grin on her face promises that what she has in store might be better than your wish. “We have the entire afternoon, let’s take our time, mm?”

“What do you propose, baby?” You leave a soft peck on her lips, and Gaeul returns you one as well.

“You’ve always said I look so pretty when I cum. Show me, finger me and let me see how pretty I am when you make me cum.”

The anticipation and lust only builds as the both of you get into position. Gaeul rests comfortably between your legs, your hard cock pressed against her back, and she leans against your chest. You stare with unbridled lust as your girl begins to spread her legs. Bit by bit, she exposes herself fully to you through the mirror, and you devour the erotic image right in front of you. A blush dusts Gaeul’s cheeks as she fully opens her legs, and you look below to see her clit exposed from under the hood. Slick runs down her skin as she pants in anticipation, and you can’t help but run your hands over Gaeul’s body, down her arms, across her chest, and over her inner thighs. You pay special attention not to touch her core—you don’t want to give her what she wants just yet.

“God, fuck, you’re looking so fucking hot for me, Gaeul, baby.” You plant soft kisses on your girlfriend’s shoulders up to her neck on both sides, before nibbling her earlobe.

“I feel so fucking hot.” Gaeul can’t help but release shaky breaths and moans as you fondle her. “Please touch my pussy, babe?”

“Mm, okay.” You smirk, and you draw your hands closer to her core. You make use of your middle and ring fingers to spread the slick beneath your fingers across her skin—you collect what drips from her sex, careful not to touch her pussy, and you rub it around her nether lips. Gaeul softly groans as frustration builds, and you whisper in her ear, “Patience, baby.”

“Babe, please.” Gaeul attempts to shift her hips to catch your fingers, but you use your free hand to press her hips back down onto the bed. You can’t help but smile at the whine she releases, and you tease her even more as you draw your free hand up to her chest, ghosting over a taut nipple, then circling over her areola as you whisper in her ear, “Look, baby, look at how pretty you are all needy for me.”

Gaeul moans out loud when she looks into the mirror. She looks absolutely wanton—her body all exposed for you as you tease her even more by kneading her breasts. You can’t help but pull her in for a hot kiss, one which you keep brief. You reach below with your free hand, and when both of your hands reach her nether lips, you begin to spread them open. You put Gaeul’s pussy fully on display in the mirror, your cock twitching against her back as you stare at her wet hole, clenching and leaking, her slick staining the bed sheets beneath her.

“Open your eyes wide, baby. Look at how sexy you are, all spread out for me.”

“Mmgh, fuck, I…” Gaeul bites her lip, a crimson hue spreading across her face. “Babe, I’m shy… I look so naughty~.”

“Yes you do, baby.” You sporadically leave kisses on Gaeul’s cheeks, chin, and neck. “You’re my naughty girl who wants to watch herself have sex with me.”

“I hate you.” An embarrassed whine leaves Gaeul’s lips at your filthy words. “But I… I’m feeling so sexy right now.”

“Good.” You kiss Gaeul on the back of her neck. “You’re my sexy girl, my best girl. I love you.”

“I love you t—mmgh!” Gaeul’s reciprocation of love is interrupted by the one thing she’s wanted all along—your fingers on her clit. You leave her no chance to finish her reply as you slide two fingers over her erect nub, and you rub circles over it as your girl writhes under your touch, moaning out loudly and wantonly as pleasure courses through her veins. A few rubs of her clit sends more slick rushing out of her pussy, and you watch as the stains on the sheets beneath her grow in size. Gaeul can’t resist herself any more—she begins to knead her breasts herself with both of her hands, her eyes glossed over with pleasure as she helps you stimulate her even more. However, you’re not satisfied yet—you give Gaeul two more rubs of her clit before you reach below with your right hand, your middle and ring fingers easily penetrating her slick, wet, warm cunt.

“Oh, my God, fuck~!” Gaeul doesn’t expect the surprise, and you don’t give her a chance to process it—you thrust your fingers into her cunt, thoroughly coating your digits in her slick. Your love can’t hold her moans back—with every upstroke of your fingers deep into her hole, she whines, gasps, groans, whimpers. Each sound she makes only fuels your lust further.

“Fuck, you look so pretty, baby.” You admire the reflection of Gaeul in the mirror—the girl squirms under your touch as she actively thrusts her hips against your fingers. Gaeul is just as eager for pleasure as you are to please her, and you’re nothing short of pleased as well watching your typically composed and shy girlfriend drop her walls, blatantly putting her inner sexual desires on display for you. You grab one of her hands, still kneading her chest, and you pull it down to her clit. “Touch yourself for me.”

Your lust for Gaeul only burns brighter when she follows your word, and you take the only outlet that you can to express it—you push your girlfriend’s chin up, and she meets you in the middle for hot, openmouthed kisses. At the same time, you curl your fingers inside her, seeking the spot that drives her insane. Gaeul’s slick drips all over your hand—your fingers and palm are drenched in her arousal, and you swear she’s never been so wet before. The girl can’t resist moaning with every curl of your fingers inside her, and when she breaks the kiss to cry out in pleasure, you know you’ve got her where she wants it.

“Fuck, that’s right, baby, moan for me. Look at how naughty you are, wanting to watch yourself have sex, watching yourself getting fingered like that. Look at you, all needy, masturbating for me to watch. You’re such a naughty girl, Gaeul, my naughty girl.”

Your dirty talk only adds on to the haze of pleasure that Gaeul enjoys. In between “I’m so naughty”, “Fuck”, and “Please”, wordless moans and the occasional “Babe” make it through, but you interrupt her stream of words with kisses too. The intimacy you share with her only adds to her pleasure, and when you feel her pussy begin to tighten, more slick flowing from her hole along your fingers, you begin to speed up your thrusts in her. Gaeul rubs her clit in time with your fingers, and you pull her close to you with a hand over hers on her chest.

“Baby, fuck, I… mmgh, I’m close, I’m so close, I’m so—” Before she can finish, you whisper right in her ear, “Let it all go for me.”

It takes you two thrusts to take Gaeul to her peak. Your girlfriend gasps, and with a loud moan, her back arches, then she convulses in your embrace. You can’t help but loudly swear when a strong jet of clear liquid gushes out of Gaeul’s cunt, and you pull your fingers out to furiously rub her clit. Her cries of pleasure increase in volume and frequency as more and more jets of her cum splatter all over the mirror and the floor. Both you and Gaeul keep your eyes locked on the distorted reflection in the mirror—the sight of your girlfriend squirting as she orgasms drives you insane. Gaeul can’t stop squirting either—she drenches her feet in the air as she shakes and shudders with each gush of girl cum, every jet of her juices hissing audibly as she continues wetting the sheets, mirror, and floor with her juices. She doesn’t stop moaning throughout—in fact, she gets louder and louder the harder she cums. It takes what feels like an eternity before she calms down, her orgasm finally subsiding, and she deflates into your embrace, her eyes glossed over in a deep haze of pleasure. You pull her tight into a hug—you need to process what just happened too.

“Babe, I squirted…” Gaeul’s exhausted voice draws you out of your trance. “I… I’ve never done that before.”

“Fuck, I know, you were so hot. You must’ve been so horny.” You hug Gaeul even tighter. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” Your girlfriend pants in exhaustion, her body limp after such an amazing orgasm. “And you’re right—I do look fucking pretty when I cum.”

Gaeul rests comfortably in your arms, and you embrace her tightly. Through all of your lust, you’re patient enough to wait, even though you want to have sex with your love already. The intimacy between you and her is something you will never get enough of, and you take the time to leave kisses across Gaeul’s shoulders, neck, and back while she catches her breath. However, you catch some movement in the mirror—Gaeul is rubbing her clit again, her fingers teasing her opening once more, shaky breaths punctuating every pleasurable move.

“Babe,” Your love sighs in pleasure, before her lips rise into a slight grin. “I’m ready again.”

You watch as your girlfriend pushes herself off the bed, out of your embrace. She turns around to press you back onto the mattress, her free hand pulling a pillow for you to rest your head on. You bite your lip and stare in unadulterated lust at Gaeul as she straddles you, and she leans in to kiss you softly. Her hand reaches between your bodies, and she wraps it around your cock to give it a few strokes.

“It’s my turn to please you.”

You can’t help but groan when Gaeul’s kisses begin to travel—your girlfriend is amazing at using her mouth during foreplay, and over that, she’s the best at making you want her, need her. Down your neck she leaves a trail of kisses before her tongue swipes over the trail she left, her hot breath right against your ear when she opts to leverage her soft, sultry voice against you.

“Fuck, baby, so hard, and it’s all because of me.” You can’t help but whimper at how sexy Gaeul sounds. “I love it. I love you.”

“Shit,” you groan, “I love you too.”

Gaeul smiles against your skin at your reply, and she kisses her way down your body. You watch with need as she teases your nipples with her tongue, and she even giggles at your whimpers—she hasn’t stopped stroking you. Her fingers spread your pre-cum all across your length, and more dribbles from your tip as she stimulates your perineum with her fingers.

“Fuck, baby, oh my God…” You can’t help but swear at the pleasure of Gaeul’s touch, and she raises her head to meet your eyes, the mischief and satisfaction in her gaze making you groan. Your love strokes your shaft slower as she kisses down your chest and tummy, and when she reaches your cock, she replaces her hand with her lips, planting kisses all over your slick cock.

“Mm, you always taste so good.” Gaeul licks your pre-cum off her lips when she kisses you right on your tip. You can’t help but buck your hips when she uses her tongue on you—she pulls your foreskin back and licks all over your tip, paying special attention to your slit. “I love using my mouth on you.”

The moan that escapes your throat when Gaeul takes you into her mouth might be louder than normal, but you don’t care. You love it when she blows you—her hot, wet mouth pleasures you so well, and her skill with her tongue is unmatched. Right now though, you can’t help but stare at the mirror, stare at Gaeul with her head between your legs, her ass up in the air, putting herself on display for you to ogle. She has two fingers inside herself, masturbating again, and you’re mesmerized. You’re mesmerized by the way Gaeul clenches around her fingers, how her ass tightens and loosens, how much of her slick drips down her fingers and wrist to the bed below. Gaeul’s soft moans only add to your pleasure as well—she’s got herself on a steady pace, bobbing her head on your shaft as she services both herself and you.

“Shit, Gaeul, fuck, you’re so fucking hot, oh, fuck…” You place a hand on your girlfriend’s head as you rest on one arm, eyes darting between the visual treats in front of you. Gaeul has her other hand fondling your balls now, adding more pleasure into the mix, before she swaps places with her hand. Now, she jerks you off as she takes your balls in her mouth, her tongue tenderly gliding across your sensitive skin. She’s rewarded with more pre-cum that dribbles from the tip, which she spreads thoroughly over your already-wet shaft.

“Fuck, baby, I… I’m getting close.” You can feel the familiar pressure below your tummy—the desire to erupt, to release just under the surface. Your cock twitches under Gaeul’s touch, and she slows down on jerking you off. She rises from between your legs, and she leans in to kiss you right at the corner of your lips.

“Can you hold it for me, baby?” Gaeul pants in pleasure ever so often. “I don’t want you to waste it like that.”

Your girlfriend leans in, her voice right at your ears again.

“Not when you should be cumming raw inside me.”

“Oh, fuck…” Your cock twitches hard at Gaeul’s words, and another dribble of white pre-cum runs down your length. Your girlfriend admires how needy you look, and she leans in for a kiss on your lips this time, one which turns into a quick makeout with tongues swirling. Gaeul moans into the kiss, and when both of you break it up, a string of saliva hangs briefly between your tongues before breaking and dripping below.

“Babe, I feel so good right now.” Gaeul is moaning right in front of you, her hand between her legs plunging deep into herself. You grab onto Gaeul’s hips as she continues masturbating, and you take your chance to admire your girlfriend pleasuring herself up close in front of you. “I feel so hot, so fucking sexy, showing you how I touch myself in the mirror and in front of you like this…”

Gaeul raises her free hand to support herself on your shoulder, and you keep her steady with your hands on her hips. She gives you a mesmerizing smile, before she whispers, “Watch me cum.”

The next few moments feel like a fever dream, but it’s all very real—Gaeul gets herself off right in front of you. You swear the mirror’s taken off every bit of shame and restraint off her, and you’re more than happy to have a front row view of it. Your eyes rake over Gaeul’s body, but you end up staring at her face, at her expressions. Gaeul bites her lip as the pleasure builds between her, and she doesn’t bother hiding how good she feels—she moans your name out loud, she tells you to keep your eyes on her, and finally, you get to hear the words you’ve so wanted to hear.

“Fuck, baby, fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”

A short “Oh, fuck!” precedes Gaeul’s orgasm. The next moment, your love’s nails dig into your shoulder, and her hips buck in your hands as her release hits her. A huge gush of squirt sprays all over your abdomen, your cock, and your thighs. You don’t bother holding back the swears that leave your lips, and neither do you stop staring at your girlfriend, as well as the reflection of her in the mirror. Spray after spray of girl cum wets your body and sheets as Gaeul shudders, her eyes rolling back in pleasure with each jet of her squirt that she drenches you in. With each warm spray of cum on your cock, you feel the familiar urge build in you again, and you try your hardest to stave it off, just as she requested. However, you’re not able to hold it off completely—three spurts of hot semen spray onto your tummy as your cock pulses, mixing with her cum on your body. The involuntary mini-orgasm has you groaning—clearly, Gaeul isn’t the only one visibly affected with this new experience.

When Gaeul’s orgasm comes to an end, she leans in to give you a short peck on the lips. However, she notices your cumstained cock and skin, and she giggles.

“Heh, I thought I told you to hold it, baby.”

“I’m sorry, babe.” You kiss her on the lips again, then give her a wink. “You’re too hot.”

Gaeul’s reply is to smirk. You bite your lip when she turns around on top of you, making it a point to push her ass towards you, softly swaying her hips to keep your attention on her.

“Now, hold it just a little while longer, okay?” Gaeul’s soft voice has you reluctantly tearing your eyes away from her ass. “I want the rest of that all in me, and I’m going to ride it out of you, baby.”

The groan that leaves your lips at her words only gets louder when you feel her sink down on your cock. Your hands instinctively shift to Gaeul’s waist to guide her down on your shaft. Inch by inch, her warm, wet walls envelop your hard cock until she has you hilted in her. Not even a second goes by before she’s lifting her hips already, pulling herself halfway off your shaft before sinking back down. Once, twice, and on the third time she does that, you meet her in the middle with your own thrusts to form a rhythm. Both you and Gaeul don’t bother holding back any moans of pleasure—the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh as well as vocalizations of pleasure merge to form an erotic score that basically is music to your ears. The visuals only add to the experience: not only do you enjoy Gaeul’s moans of sexual relief, you get the best of both worlds in watching her not only fuck herself on your cock right in front of you, but you also get to see it in the mirror. You’re not the only one who’s watching though—Gaeul admires herself as well. She arranges her messy hair and preens in the mirror, partially for herself, and partially for you.

“You look so fucking pretty like that, babe.” You subconsciously begin to thrust harder. “I love you so much, and I love fucking you so much too.”

“I love you too, baby, mm~!” Gaeul’s whines of pleasure break her sentence up, and you’re grinning at the pretty sounds she makes. “You’re right, I… I do look pretty fucking myself on your cock like that!”

“Mm, that’s right, you’re my pretty babe, my lovely girl.” You shift your hands up and Gaeul leans back, using her feet and arms to support herself as she continues to fuck herself on your shaft. Your hands reach up to tease her nipples, and the groan that Gaeul releases has you grinning even more. You sneak a peek in the mirror, and Gaeul has a hand on her clit now, rubbing herself to add to the pleasure. With this new angle, you find yourself hitting her G-spot over and over, and Gaeul only gets louder, wetter, tighter with each stroke of your cock rubbing against her walls. The sensitivity from her previous two orgasms is the catalyst that brings her close to her third, and you’re getting close to orgasm once more as you twitch deep inside her.

“Babe…” Gaeul’s soft term of endearment is all you need to know what she wants. You start to ramp up your thrusts, and so does she. Both of you drive each other closer and closer to orgasm—she drenches your cock with more of her juices, and you’re leaking copious amounts of precum in her as well. Every thrust pushes both of you towards the precipice, and—

“Gaeul, babe, fuck!” Your cry of pleasure heralds your orgasm. Immediately, your cock twitches and you’re firing stream after stream of thick hot cum into Gaeul. Almost immediately, Gaeul shudders under your touch as her hips buck, her pleasure bursting out of her in streams once more. Once again, your love makes a mess of you and the sheets, just as you make your own mess deep within her walls, just as she wants it. You level thrust after thrust deep into your love, hell bent on fucking your cum deeper into her, hell bent on keeping both your pleasure as well as hers, going for as long as possible. Eventually, both of you come back down from your respective highs. Gaeul collapses next to you in exhaustion, a sweaty but ultimately satisfied mess. She snuggles close to you. “Cuddle?”

“Sure.” You wrap an arm around her. “I love you.” “I love you too.” She wraps her arms around you, and both of you bask in the intimacy and each other’s company. You smile as you plant kisses on the crown of her head.

“You were so sexy being all confident like that.”

“Really?” Gaeul grins. “We should do this again. It was hot.”

“You’re right. We should. Thank you for the distraction and the experience, baby.”

“You’re welcome!”

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #male reader #gaeul smut #kim gaeul smut #ive smut #ive gaeul smut

807 notes · View notes

songmingisthighs · 5 months

Text

You <3 I

group : ateez

pairing : mingi × reader

genre : smut, oneshot

wc : 2 k

warning : mdni, sex, mature content, soft dom!mingi, unprotected sex (it's condom not sindom)

a/n : requested by @certifiedmoa

buy me coffee ?

Travelling with your boyfriend for his work has never been an issue for you. Heck, it's fun because you both get to explore places and cultures together and if you look stupid, at least you look stupid together and you were sharing that moment. You love him, truly and dearly, but sometimes you do wonder if he loves you or his work more.

It had been two hours since you both checked into the hotel, approximately an hour and a half since his manager told him that there was no schedule today si he was allowed to explore on his own. But what did your boyfriend do? Plant his ass on a chair and work. Sure, most days this happen, you'd just stick by him and accompany him finishing up his work. But most days you're in his studio and where you were was definitely not his studio. So many potential of fun yet his focus is doing something he'd usually complain about days on end. He didn't even realize that you had been sitting on the bed, pouting and glaring at him for the past 10 minutes.

Well, if you wanted to do something, it was now or never.

Just as Mingi was about to clip the audio, his iPad was taken out of his hands and off his lap and before he could complain, you had carefully placed yourself in straddle on his lap. "Baby!" He exclaimed, trying to reach for his iPad but you closed the cover and placed it on a nearby coffee table. "Don't you 'baby' me," you huffed, crossing your arms on your chest, "I have been waiting for you to get off your ass and do something with me for two hours, Mingi, I am not kidding when I said you seem to pay more attention to your work than me even when we're at a four star hotel with a nice view!"

Your rant surprised Mingi mostly because he hadn't realized that it had been two hours since he "checked out" his work. He swore he had only wanted to take a peek of the revision he uploaded but time slipped past him and he felt bad.

"Aww, I'm sorry baby," his big hands grabbed you gently by the hips and his thumb began rubbing gentle circles over your leggings, "I didn't realize I was taking that long. Can I make it up to you?"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Maybe Mingi being so overly focused on his job was a good thing if it means that you were getting eaten out this good.

"F-fuck," you gasped, head lolling back as your chest arched to the ceiling. From between your spread legs, Mingi looked up at you with a satisfied smirk on his lips, "Feeling good, baby?" He chuckled. The movement of his lips on your clit paired with the vibration of his voice made you shuddered out a sigh and thighs threatening to snap around Mingi's head. He didn't even bother pulling your leggings and panties all the way off, they were simply pulled down to your knees and each movement you made, the flimsy garment rode up, securing Mingi's position on your cunt. "Better than good, I-I, shit- M-Mingi please, I wanna cum," you whined, hands gripping the sheets tightly due to desperation. Oh-so-simply, Mingi drag his tongue from your opening slowly to your clit muttering loud enough for you to hear, "Fuck, so eager. My sweet, sweet love being so good for me by making me happy. Do whatever you want on me, you deserve as much."

The words that came out of Mingi's mouth felt more like an order than permission and it made you visibly shudder. So you grabbed onto the sheets beneath you and began grinding your cunt on Mingi's face. It was as if your hips had a mind of its own with how feantic the movements seem. The moment you realized the way your body reacted to him, you tried putting some space between you two from being shy all of a sudden but Mingi seem to be enjoying every bit of it as seen from the way his hands turned like talons, gripping the underside of your thighs tightly, making sure his nails were making crescent indents to mark you.

Just as you were about to cum hard on his tongue, Mingi ripped his lips away from your nether ones abruptly sending you nearly jumping up only for Mingi to move quicker than you by pressing on your chest gently gently as he only wanted to ensure your position and pushing you down on the bed. You don't know which was hotter, the sight of Mingi panting, the flush of his cheeks paired with the glaze in his eyes, or the way his tongue ran along his bottom lip, greedily collecting your juice as if not wanting them to go to waste. "Baby, I'm sorry but if you're gonna cum, it's gonna be on my cock," he panted.

It was your last warning before he pushed your knees open and expertly nudge the tip of his cock into your pulsing hole. The pressure of the head made your eyes roll back into your head while your hips tried to meet his movements only to fail because he was keeping you in position. Meanwhile, Mingi was enjoying the tension from holding himself back. Between feeling your warm cunt that provided a biting edge of pleasure and watching your eyes watering from anticipation, Mingi didn't know which was better. With a roll of his hips, his cock slowly entered you. Your head was thrown back and your thighs tensed from the delicious drag of his length filling you up until it was completely sheathed inside you, the tip kissing your cervix which sent a chill down your spine.

Though Mingi himself wanted to move and his hips found it hard to remain still, he enjoyed how you look falling apart on his cock with the way you gasped and bit your bottom lip from your pleasure. A rumble bubble in his chest from how hard he tried to control himself so before he completely lost it, he began peppering kisses along your jaw and exposed neck. "Baby, baby," his voice managed to pause your whining momentarily but not your squirming, "I need to move, okay? Can you handle that? Can you handle me making love to you? I wanna see you cum when I fill you up, okay?" Though Mingi didn't mean to rile you up, your breath became laboured and with a low whine, you grabbed the back of his neck and locked lips with him.

Mingi took your action as permission for him to move so he began rolling his hips upwards, meeting your pubic bones with each wave of movement.

Neither you nor him were experts in sex per se, but you both were just so compatible with each other that your connection reached the most intimate aspects of your lives. A lot can be said about the minimal movement Mingi did; starting from the way he cupped the back of your head, to the way he let your fingers tangle together in a firm yet loving grip, and the way he minimized the chance of you two being detached by grinding on you rather than jackhammering his talented hips on you. It felt great because you were stimulated in different ways all at once, something you had never experienced before you met Mingi and while it took a while for you both to be able to understand what worked for each other, you both did a pretty good job of taking mental notes of what the other like.

Especially Mingi.

While Mingi had a rather higher level of libido, he found himself feeling even more pleasure when he was able to pleasure you. The idea of you unravelling from him, being so affected, it was an ego boost. And you supported that idea by letting him know that you have never felt like that before. From the moment he made the discovery, he began taking care of you more than he cared about taking care of himself. Technically, when he took care of you, he was most definitely taking care of himself. It was a win-win situation.

"F-fuck- Mingi!" You gasped, your free hand reaching to the back of his head to tug on the soft, short hair near his nape. The tug made Mingi let out a groan followed by a low hum, the lack of space between you two allowed the vibration to hover on the skin of your chest. "Don't do that, baby, I don't wanna go rough on you tonight," he mumbled as he pressed his forehead on yours, letting out a shaky breath before his hips moved even faster.

Maybe it was due to the denial of your previous release but you could feel your high coming. Your body gave away signs of your release and Mingi always seemed to notice it. The corner of his lips tugged upwards and the waves of hip rolls were given a slight edge when he started hitting you harshly. The impact caused you to almost got sent reeling back and on instinct, your free hand wound around his shoulder and held him close. "Fuck!" Mingi grunted when he felt your pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest and your voice echoing in his ears, turning his brain fuzzy. "Baby, I wanna cum in you but you gotta cum for me first, I wanna see you make a mess, can you do that?" It was almost comical that your cunt clenched around him when he said that but he couldn't find it in himself to make a comment.

With your feet locked behind him, resting right above the cute butt that you like to smack in passing, you locked his position and almost immediately, Mingi started pistoning his hips.

Obscene sounds came out of both of you be it from your mouths or from your bodies moving together. Had either of you had any shame left, a permanent blush would be tattooed on your cheeks and you would be sending your hotel neighbours apology letters and fruit baskets. But who cares about other people when one second you were holding onto your boyfriend for dear life and the next, your cunt had a vice grip that was hard enough to make Mingi hiss and still as he release his load in you when he felt your body trembling against his.

Mingi let out a silent huff followed by an almost silent 'fuck' which was only so because your orgasm caused your ear to ring. In the haze of your high, you could hear Mingi muttering about not wanting to cum that fast and blaming you for being too damn hot. If your face was not warm before, Mingi's cleverly veiled sexual compliment would've been able to allow you to warm up a hot pocket by just pressing it to your cheeks.

Sex with Mingi always took your breath away and it wasn't just because he fucks like a drill in an oil rig but it was also because it was... Him. Even as you lay there, trying to catch your breath, Mingi hovered above you with an arm propped so he could watch you.

"Stop looking at me like that!" you whined, trying to shield his gaze away by covering your face only for him to whine and shove your hands gently to the sides. "Like what, like you're the only person I've ever loved in my life?" he smirked, laughing when you smacked him square in his chest. "I'm gonna have to ask you to say that again so I can record it and send it to your mom," you teased, rolling your eyes as if you were annoyed but the slight tug on the corners of your lips gave your true feelings away.

"Are you okay now?" Mingi asked, asking if you'd fully caught your breath. Letting out one last sigh, you nodded, thinking that he was finally taking you out of the hotel.

But you soon found Mingi had another idea in mind because soon, he repositioned himself between your spread legs with a teasing glint in his eyes and the once softened cock coming back alive inside you.

"Great, because I'm not done with my plan on making this your best trip just yet."

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @surveilenceysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread

865 notes · View notes

writerpeach · 6 months

Text

A White Christmas

IVE An Yujin x Jang Wonyoung x m!reader

1153 words, semi-smutless but still 18+, unedited, just a little something short and sweet for Christmas

part 4 of annyeongz

It’s nearly midnight.

The fireplace crackles on a cold Christmas Eve, but you’re not lacking in warmth one bit. With Wonyoung and Yujin snuggled up next to you, a warm mug of cocoa in your hands, and this gorgeous snowfall that doesn’t seem to have any end in sight, you have everything you could ask for. There’s a marathon of cheesy movies playing in the background that’s gone mostly ignored—but you enjoy the cheesy, the clichés, and the overly-happy-ever-after endings, because sometimes a little bit of escapism hits the spot.

Wonyoung seems completely fascinated by snow, like every snowstorm is the first one she’s ever seen. And there’s something so special about it, how the snowflakes stick to the window, slowly blanketing everything as the night carries on; there’s something so pure and innocent about the never-ending white flurries—not unlike these two pretty girls on either side of you, although certainly their purity has been in question at times.

Yujin is more focused on the fireplace, her soft brown eyes watching intently while Wonyoung indulges in stealing little pecks from the side of your cheek, the corner of your mouth, wherever she can land kisses without you turning your head, whenever the inclination hits her. It’s not dissimilar the way the snowflakes coat the ground, falling here, falling there, and everywhere in between.

“When are we opening presents?” Wonyoung asks out of nowhere, her bright eyes look up at you expectantly, as her plump lips look so inviting for another kiss that you can’t help dive into.

You look at the time and cock an eyebrow; there’s still a few minutes left until the clock strikes midnight. Your finger runs along the rim of your warm mug, and it’s hard not wanting to oblige Wonyoung as you take a sip, because patience and her go together like oil and water. Despite your efforts, Wonyoung knows you’re weak for that adorable pouty face, and you can only fight it for so long,

“When it’s Christmas,” Yujin pipes up, a smile spreading over her pretty lips. “But only good girls get presents…”

Watching the pout deepen on Wonyoung’s lips, you look around the room, at the stockings above the fireplace, and the presents underneath the tree that are mostly for you. (Because god, these girls are impossible to shop for when they can buy anything their heart desires.)

You can only imagine what’s in those wrapped boxes piled around the tree. Car keys? An expensive watch? A dozen different gift cards with an obscenely almost unlimited limit? There’s nothing that you really need, but you can’t deny these two another chance of spoiling you against your better judgment.

“But I am a good girl. Right, daddy?” It doesn’t take long for you to share a laughter with Yujin, as if Wonyoung hasn’t behaved anything less than sinful.

“Pretty sure Santa is going to skip right on over this place then. After the way you were screaming daddy in the shower earlier...you might be on the naughty list forever, princess." Yujin smirks devilishly, and Wonyoung huffs out loud, like she’s been told Christmas is canceled.

“Fine. Santa can’t give me what I want anyways. Only daddy can…” Wonyoung whines cutely, nuzzling her head against your shoulder and kisses into your neck. You hesitate giving any reaction, knowing all too well what she really wants. It isn’t under the tree, or in the stocking—

“Dear daddy, I want a big load on my face for Christmas.” Wonyoung says it all cute and pouty, which makes it even more absurd, but she does that on purpose, knowing that the innocent girl facade is her secret weapon to getting what she wants. You roll your eyes and set the warm mug down, as you know if this keeps up you’re not going to finish it.

“But you get that every day. Sometimes more than once. It has to be something you don't get often," Yujin says. Wonyoung shoots a glare in her direction and looks offended that Yujin could ever suggest otherwise, as if she’s forgotten how regularly she’ll whine to get whatever she wants.

“I didn’t get it yesterday. Daddy came inside Yujinnie. Twice. And I only got a taste. So that doesn't count. I need another big, creamy load for Christmas. An extra thick one.”

Wonyoung makes this the most ludicrous request, as if she's asking for the last slice of cake.

The thing is, Wonyoung is as insatiable as Yujin. There have been countless occasions where you've unloaded deep inside one of these two beauties and before you're even halfway recovered, the other starts tugging your dick back to hardness so she can have her turn. You know what they’re capable of, and that’s precisely the issue—

“Don’t be greedy on Christmas, princess,” Yujin warns, and the look on her face makes you shiver, even if you aren't even on the receiving end of that look. "Daddy can stuff your stocking later."

Wonyoung ignores it, of course, because she’s doing this bratty routine she’s done a thousand times, trying to get her way. There’s surprising restraint from Yujin, who’s always so eager to add fuel to the fire, as if it gets her off just to have Wonyoung push boundaries, because they both know they have you wrapped around their pretty little finger.

"But I've been so good. Haven't I, daddy? I sucked your dick this morning while you were still sleeping, until you came in my mouth... and when Yujin was riding you earlier in the kitchen, I waited so patiently until she was finished. And then I cleaned her all up when you came inside of her, daddy…”

"Oh my god. Shut up," Yujin groans and leans in for a kiss to stop the whining. You look at the time—midnight has come and gone, and these two are already just going at it, swapping saliva right over your lap, and it’s better than anything that’ll fit under that tree.

“Merry Christmas, daddy,” Yujin says and leans in to exchange kisses with you, parting her lips for this deep embrace that you get lost in far too easily. You’re too breathless to respond, because Yujin’s kisses always leave your head spinning in the best possible way.

“Merry Christmas,” you say in return, as she gives one more lingering kiss, and you both know Wonyoung is right there waiting her turn, getting all whiny for attention. “Merry Christmas, princess.”

You kiss Wonyoung, and it’s like you can taste Yujin on her lips, which makes it seem as if you’re kissing them both at the same time. Not that you have complaints about being caught in the middle of these two making out, because when you’re not swapping between their lips, you’re getting the best possible view.

“So…presents?” Wonyoung asks, which makes Yujin giggle at how shameless she is, as she goes back to sealing those lips shut with another kiss. And you know that whatever happens in this room is going to end how it always does, with them both sharing you—

And that is their ultimate Christmas gift.

---------

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays/Happy Monday!

Wanted to put out a little thing to end the year on, a little epilogue to the annyeongz series, something that wasn't a billion words long and didn't have a reliance of smut.

This year was a bit difficult, but I'm so thankful for everyone who continues to read, comment, send asks (even though im bad at answering), or just lurks on this mess of a blog 💞

#IVE #Wonyoung #Yujin #reader insert #christmas #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #annyeongz

844 notes · View notes

murdockparker · 3 months

Text

Roses and Regrets - Part 1

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Freshly out of mourning, Lady Barlow, née (Y/L/N), makes her re-debut in society. If only she could simply ignore a certain viscount...

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none. enemies to lovers!!

A/N: I didn't expect this lil requested fic to turn into such an event, let alone a multi-part story! so, you're welcome or I'm sorry?

next part

She was perfectly happy.

Well, supposedly right now she wasn’t.

Her husband, Lord Barlow, had passed away ten months ago, leaving her with an empty estate, a shiny title and more money than she knew what to do with. Lord Barlow was an old viscount, desperate for an heir and willing to do anything to get one.

In came Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

Young, beautiful and well-bred, she was the perfect choice for any man of the ton. If only her father hadn’t a penchant for gambling. Perhaps she’d be married to a man more suited for her rather than the oaf of a dustbin she was forced to be with. She was no fool in believing in a love match for herself, rare and far between as they were, no, but she did have half a mind to imagine a kinder man as her husband. A man who perhaps cared even a little bit for her wellbeing.

No matter.

A dead man cannot care for her wellbeing either.

“Lady Barlow,” a maid knocked, entering the ornate drawing room.

“Yes?” (Y/N) did not look up from her reading—the newest edition of Whistledown had just been delivered. While she herself was never one to gossip terribly, it was quite fun to keep up with the circus of the season.

“Do you plan on attending the Danbury ball this eve?”

“I do not see the point,” she scoffed playfully, “after all, Meg, I am but a widow in mourning.”

“Perhaps her ladyship should reconsider?” Meg asked gently, placing a new pot of tea next to her lady. “I rather think it has been a socially acceptable amount of time since your husband’s passing.”

“If I am not to enjoy the perks of being a widow,” (Y/N) sighed, finally looking up at her favorite lady’s maid, “whatever is the point?”

“Perks that Viscount Barlow has graciously allowed you to use during your time of mourning—”

“The current viscount is all but twelve,” (Y/N) reminded. “He has no use for this estate in Mayfair until he himself becomes an adult, in which, I am sure he and his mother will come to make use of it. I believe if my maths are correct, that leaves me all of six years or so to use this home.”

“Forgive me my lady, but should you not be looking for a new husband, then?”

(Y/N) smiled at Meg. She enjoyed their friendship, her maid being only a handful of years older than herself, it made for a likely pair. “No one wishes to marry a widow,” she said simply, “widows are damaged goods. Every sensible man of the ton will be wanting a pretty little virgin instead.”

“My lady!”

“What?” She barked a laugh. “You know it to be true.”

“Regardless,” Meg said, clearing her throat. “Lord Barlow passed nearly a year ago, the period of mourning is rightfully over. You are expected to rejoin society.”

“Dreadful.”

“It is expected,” Meg repeated.

“It does not make it any less dreadful,” (Y/N) said. “Very well. Pull a dress and prepare a bath, it seems the ton gets to see my dreary face once again.”

—

Anthony Bridgerton was a man scorned.

Particularly by his own mother in this very instance. How foolish he had been to share his intentions of marriage this season with her—for now she spread the news like a wildfire. Every desperate mama and her equally desperate daughter came flocking to him like bees to honey.

It was only now, in the dark corner of the ballroom, that he found a respite.

“Looking a bit green, Lord Bridgerton,” a voice beside him called out.

“I am not—” Anthony had huffed a reply before even knowing whom he was speaking to. “Lady Barlow.”

“I am shocked you can recall my name,” (Y/N) laughed over her champagne flute. “Considering how many new ones you’ve had thrown at you this eve.”

“You are out of mourning.”

“Is that a question?”

“It was an observation,” Anthony corrected.

“What gave it away? My bright dress? No tear stains left on my cheeks?”

“You are here, out and about,” Anthony said. “And, forgive me for not playing along with your delusions, but I do not think you cried much at all for Lord Barlow’s passing.”

“How dare you assume such a thing,” (Y/N) faux gasped. She had intended on pressing a hand to her chest. Intended, anyway. Somehow she forgot all about the champagne currently residing it her grasp. “Damn… this was a new dress too.”

“Good God,” he laughed. “First you are spilling all over yourself like a child and now you are cursing—tell me, do all married ladies act like you?”

“I am a widow,” (Y/N) had found a cloth and begun dabbing up the spill. It had only dribbled at most, but still, it was a new dress. “I rather think I can act the way I please.”

“Like a drunkard?”

“Like a free woman,” she said, fighting every childish urge to stick her tongue out at the viscount. “I am only here to show my face, prove I am still alive and I shall go about my merry way.”

“Lady Danbury is a widow,” Anthony noted. “Yet she still mingles with society.”

“I am not Lady Danbury.”

“You are not.”

“Do you not have young misses to go and woo?” (Y/N)’s eyes hardened. “Take your pick from the litter, Lord Bridgerton, any of them would be pleased to spend such valuable time with you.”

“Are you insinuating you are not?”

“I rather thought it was a statement, yes,” (Y/N) said.

Anthony’s eyes went only a fraction wider, nostrils flaring. “Well, if that is what you wish—”

“It is not a mean of wishing,” she laughed, “but really a necessity.”

“Good evening, Lady Barlow,” Anthony sneered, smoke practically coming out of his ears. If (Y/N) had half a mind she’d call for the authorities to put that fire out, instead, she simply finished her drink and smiled wistfully at the dancing ballroom, feeling fulfilled.

—

Dearest Gentle Reader,

The season is in full swing thanks to the mark of Lady Agatha Danbury’s ball, a notable and traditional first event of the London scene. Eligible young ladies now on the Marriage Mart were enjoying their first taste at what fine society has to offer, however taxing or daunting it may be.

Our resident Capital ‘R’ Rake, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton is finally deciding on a wife, surely making him the finest catch of the season. Matchmaking mamas and their young ladies alike were seen flocking to him like petulant children asking their parents for pin money, thanks to his own mother, Lady Bridgerton’s declaration of such an idea last night. The viscount seemingly had enough of the attention, taking like a wallflower and hiding away in the back of the ballroom near the end of the evening.

His company? None other than Lady Barlow, evidently out of mourning as of last night. While the this Author is under good authority that the match between Lady Barlow and the late Lord Barlow was not a love match, given their fourty or fifty year age difference, it has taken the new dowager viscountess longer than most anticipated for her to get back into the season. A woman as young as Lady Barlow would be eager to find another husband to support her, but something tells me that she is quite enjoying her time as a widow and will not easily give that up.

While this Author has very little idea of the actual nature of the relationship between Lord Bridgerton and Lady Barlow, it is only to be assumed that it is simply not a favorable one. The two were seen making a scene by the refreshment table, a scene that went unnoticed by many prying eyes of the ton, leaving Lord Bridgerton storming away and Lady Barlow with the winning hand.

Good show, Lady Barlow.

Lady Whistledown Society Papers

—

“Brother! You are in Whistledown!” Eloise sang to no one in particular.

“I have no care that I am in that gossip rag,” Anthony ground out, rustling his newspaper. “I can only imagine it is just another advertisement of my search for a wife this season.”

“Er, yes, however—”

“However?” Anthony’s attention immediately shot up to his sister, newspaper be damned.

“Who is Lady Barlow?” Eloise asked.

“No one of importance,” Anthony could feel his temperature rising.

“Lady Barlow?” Benedict laughed. “Is that who you were talking to last night dear Brother? Is she not still in mourning?”

“No.”

“No it is not who you were talking to, or no she is not still in mourning?” Benedict gave his brother an amusing glance.

“Oh, according to Whistledown—”

“Sister—”

“Eloise, you may not recall Lady Barlow, given you only just came out this season,” Benedict began, deciding that this conversation was very much worth his time this morning. “But she used to go by Miss (Y/L/N) before her marriage to the late viscount.”

“(Y/L/N)…” Eloise looked to the ceiling, finding nothing in particular. “Oh! Is she not the woman who—”

“I am taking my leave,” Anthony said abruptly, newspaper all but forgotten.

“Escaping, Brother?” Benedict asked.

“I have calls to make,” Anthony sneered, ignoring the pleased face his brother was making. “Excuse me.”

“It seems Lady Barlow is a touchy subject,” Eloise noted as her eldest brother left the drawing room. Benedict snorted. “What?”

“You do not even know the half of it, dear Sister.”

Anthony Bridgerton, did not in fact, have any calls to make. He had no impressionable interactions last night to warrant such a visit to anyone—the Queen was still in need of naming her diamond, after all—but he had no desire to stay and be berated by his family this morning. He truly had no plan, no thought in his head on where he was going, he just simply was.

Apparently he was going to the park.

It was still early in the day, few people graced the park at such an hour. The few who did, however, were too busy reading the latest Whistledown to even notice him. Anthony saw a handful of post boys running opposite of his direction on his way here, it was only natural they scoped out this location. He knew it was going to be a problem the minute they finished reading—if Lady Whistledown truly wrote about him, which he had no reason to believe his sister was lying about, all eyes would be on him.

“Might as well enjoy the peace and quiet for now,” Anthony exhaled. He took a quick glance at his watch—half past eight. Hardly could he recall a time he took a turn about the park on his own, usually he was in the company of his family or holed away in his study worrying about expenses and the like, never did he take a moment to actually enjoy the grand weather such as the kind today. Determined to enjoy it, he sat down on a favorable bench and watched the birds swim across the pond.

“Unbelievable.”

He turned his head, only to find Lady Barlow dressed in a rather pleasantly pink dress and matching hat, a look of distaste on her face.

“I didn’t take you as the park-going type, Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded, folding her hands. She had been carrying a small red book in one of them. “Especially at such an early hour, too.”

“Lady Barlow,” he nearly sneered. “Can a man not enjoy the park?”

“Oh surely a man can,” (Y/N) agreed. “But you? You are no man.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It seems to me that you’re sitting in my spot,” she ignored his quip, readjusting her stance in annoyance. “This is where I come to read.”

“Can you not read elsewhere?” Anthony asked. “There is an entire park at your disposal.”

“No,” she hummed. “Afraid not.”

“No?” He laughed. “Surely out of the entire park you can find a suitable spot to read your—let me guess—romantically inclined fodder?”

“Poetry,” she corrected, “and no, I cannot simply read elsewhere. The shade is just right under this tree and I rather like overlooking the pond between my chapters.”

“Shame I got here first, then,” Anthony clicked.

“You…!” (Y/N) scoffed, fighting every urge in her body to stomp her foot. “You are an impossible man, surely you know that?”

“I thought you said I was no man?” Anthony’s brow quirked. “Or perhaps I misheard?”

She scowled. “You are not amusing.”

“On the contrary,” Anthony leaned back on the bench, stretching his arms and taking his claim. “I find myself very amusing.”

A duck quacked from the pond, either laughing at the viscount or agreeing with him—it was hard to tell.

“You leave me no choice,” (Y/N) said sternly, taking a seat on the other end of the bench—feeling worlds apart from the man on the far side. In actuality, it couldn’t have been more than two feet, three at most.

“Truly?” Anthony laughed humorlessly. “You cannot be serious.”

“Hush,” (Y/N) said, opening her book in earnest. “I am trying to read.”

While there had been no guns drawn, this was a duel, in every sense of the word. Both parties sitting still as statues, Anthony’s gaze trained on the pond, (Y/N)’s on her book. Occasionally, she’d flip her page to the next, huffing every time Anthony still did not get up and move on.

Stubborn. Both of them.

“Will you be quiet?” Anthony said, growing exasperated. “I cannot think when you are breathing so loud—”

“You wish for me not to breathe?” She shut her book. “I never anticipated you’d wish me dead—”

“Please,” Anthony said. “You know that is not what I mean at all.”

“I never know with you. You, Anthony Bridgerton, are an enigma and I hope I never have the pleasure of truly understanding you,” (Y/N) said, fingers whiting from her grip on her book.

“So you admit it would be pleasurable?”

She wanted to wipe that grin off of his face, how, she was unsure. Idly, she thought about how a good smack to his cheek would feel. Painful in the moment but oh-so wonderful after, cathartic, probably. “I am not getting up.”

“Neither am I.”

“I am willing to die on this bench,” (Y/N) spat.

“Funnily enough,” Anthony’s voice dropped, “so am I.”

“How are you to find your viscountess on this bench?” She asked, angling her body towards the torturous man. “Surely you do not expect her to just walk past?”

“I am sure I can manage,” Anthony said calmly. “Many young ladies will walk this way when they see me sitting here."

“Even with another woman sitting beside you?”

“I rather think they’ll find you easy to ignore, I know I do.”

“Ha! You are truly something else, Lord Bridgerton,” (Y/N) sat straighter. “Insulting a polite woman in public?”

“You are the furthest thing from polite,” Anthony leaned in. “Rude, ostentatious, quite full of herself—”

“Might I offer you a mirror?” The grip on her book tightened, cover bending from the force. “Or are you afraid you’ll see horns?”

“Oh, do they match yours?” He nearly sang.

“Funny,” she clicked, finally setting her book down, lacing her fingers together in her lap. “You should run a comedy act at the circus, seeing as you are a right clown.”

Anthony stood up, whether by the force of his breath or sheer spite he will never know. “You are the most ridiculous woman I have ever met.”

(Y/N) met his height, now standing as well. “And you are the most irritating man I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

“I am going to walk this way,” Anthony said, forcefully pointing to his right, eyes not leaving hers. She did have the most remarkable eyes.

“And I will walk this way,” she pointed to her left, less force in her action but seething all the same. “Have the day you deserve, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Why you little…!”

She had already turned and stomped away, a fuming smudge of pink against the greenery of the park, growing further away with every step.

“What a wretched woman,” he mumbled, looking down at his watch again—nine on-the-dot. In the corner of his eye, something bright red caught his attention. Her book. She had left it behind.

Perhaps he would burn it.

Perhaps he would just put it in his pocket and carry about his day.

In the pocket it went. For now.

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #enemies to lovers #multi-part fic #reader insert #whoops i didn't expect this request to turn into a multiple part thing but here we are #unsure of how many parts but probably no more than 4-5?#idk

628 notes · View notes

yuujispinkhair · 5 months

Note

Hello Winter!! Love you and your writing! Here’s a thirst for you on thirsty Thursday: beautiful strong man Kuna comes home after a long day of dealing with his twin Yuji and he just wants to relax but you’re just overly excited and just keep talking and talking and he doesn’t have the heart to tell you to shut up so he just kisses you and tells you to drop to your knees so he can get his annoyance out and then he’ll listen to your sweet voice once he’s done.

Don’t KNOW WHERE THIS CAME FROM BUT NEED SUKUNA TO JUST SHUT ME UP 🥴

Aww that's so sweet of you!! I am sending you lots of love!! 💗💗 And omggg I love that thirst!!! Thank you for sharing it with me! I need him to shut me up like that, too 💗💗 I had to write a little drabble because this was too delicious ;)

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff Word Count: 600 Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (Sukuna + Reader receiving). All characters are of age. Divider by @/benkeibear

Sukuna is a gentleman when it comes to you. He is much softer with you than he ever thought he could be. So, no, Sukuna chooses not to outright tell you to shut up. But he still knows exactly what to do to get what he wants.

Large, strong hands land on your waist and pull you onto Sukuna's lap,

"Come here, princess."

That sexy grin is on his face as he leans closer. And then his lips are on yours, moving slowly but firmly against yours while his muscular arms wrap around your body and keep you in place.

Sukuna smiles into the kiss when he feels you practically melt against him, sighing so sweetly when his tongue pushes between your lips and licks teasingly into your mouth. He knows how to kiss you right, knows exactly what to do to make you shut up.

Soon, your fingers are dancing over his undercut and running through his pink hair as you lick eagerly against his tongue, opening your sweet mouth even further for him, letting him kiss you deep and slow just like you love it.

Sukuna kisses you until you are all putty in his strong hands, moaning softly into his mouth and tugging on his hair while unconsciously grinding against the growing bulge in Sukuna's pants.

You groan when he pulls away from the kiss with one last teasing flick of his tongue. But Sukuna puts a long finger on your lips before you can complain, maroon eyes looking deeply into yours, lips lifted in an amused smirk,

"You'll get more kisses, I promise. But first, I want you to get on your knees and make out with my cock just like you made out with my tongue right now."

His cock twitches when you slip off his lap and push his muscular thighs apart to kneel between them. Yes, this is what he needs after a day like that: Your sweet lips wrapped around his cock, the only noises you make loud slurps and cute moans, your spit drooling all over his hard length, your velvety tongue tracing every throbbing vein on his dick, your soft lips making out with his swollen tip until loud groans fall from his lips and he feels his balls tightening.

Sukuna pushes your head down onto his twitching cock, soft praise falling from his lips as he busts his whole milky load into your mouth, giving you a copious amount of cum to swallow before you can talk again.

He feels so much lighter afterward, sighing contentedly as his spent cock slips out of your mouth. A smile spreads over his tattooed face as you lift your head and lick your swollen lips, getting every last drop of his cum, like the good girl that you are. Just like Sukuna makes sure to get every last drop of your cum when he pulls you back on the couch and eats your sweet pussy until you cream on his tongue and squeal his name.

It's the first thing you say since the moment he effectively shut you up with his kisses.

But now everything is perfect again. The stress has left Sukuna's body, his mind is clear again, and the headache that was threatening to take over is gone. And you look happy, too, as Sukuna pulls you into his arms, wrapping them around you and pulling you against his body so the two of you are cuddled up tightly on the couch, legs intertwined and the whole length of your bodies touching.

Sukuna presses a tender kiss to your forehead and finally asks,

"So, how was your day, princess? Tell me everything."

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #ryomen sukuna

789 notes · View notes

sailoryooons · 8 months

Text

Fang Daddy | knj (m)

☾ Pairing: Vampire!Namjoon x fledgling! F. reader

☾ Summary: Ever since Namjoon turned you into a vampire, there is only one thing that you crave more than blood. Good thing your sire is more than happy to indulge in his sweet little vampire fledgling.

☾ Word Count: 3,801

☾ Genre: PWP, Supernatural, Vampires, Established Relationship

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Explicit sexual content, blood sharing, depictions of blood, feral fucking, vaginal fingering, nipple play, biting and a lot of teeth and spit and blood they’re vampires, a lot of carnal feelings, dom/sub themes, oral (f. receiving) cum eating, obnoxious use of the word daddy, subspace implications/descriptions, bodily fluids, a lot of feral thinking, explicit language, vaginal sex (reader on top), a bit rough, light degradation, reader is super needy, use of ‘good girl’ I think that’s it.

☾ Published: October 12, 2023

☾ A/N: This is a pseudo-request because @kithtaehyung and I are unhinged and somehow this is where we ended up. I am not responsible for literally anything this might awaken inside of you because this is actually what Namjoon speaking/existing awakens inside of me - and I made it Halloweenie. This is just straight-up feral sex I don’t even know if it makes sense in parts. This is mostly unedited!

☾ A/N 2: Mildly inspired by this video

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Haliween Requests

“Everything okay, baby?” Namjoon’s rough voice comes through the phone. You squirm, feeling your stomach tighten. “Talk to me.”

Even the sound of his voice makes the air in the room feel thick. Heady. You can hear everything so clearly on his side of the phonecall: party noise, loud voices, the sounds of clicking champagne glasses and laughter. He tries to muffle the sound of the party, but your hearing is sharper now. Better.

You imagine Namjoon standing in the corner of the party, phone tucked to his ear, head bent down as he murmurs into the receiver. A shiver ripples through you and you can’t help but make a soft sound. The sheets in his bed are too hot against your skin, feeling staticky as you slide your legs open. You haven’t made a move to touch yourself but just the imagery of him makes your core ache.

Namjoon hears you, of course. His hearing is too sharp not to. He hums, almost a growl in the back of his throat. “Is that why you called me, baby?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t been gone that long.”

You stick your bottom lip out. A tingling sensation spreads over your skin from the tone of his voice. When he answered, he had sonded concerned. He’d only been gone for about two hours, nothing serious. But now, his voice has shifted. It’s darker, teasing.

“What do you need?”

“You.”

It’s an honest answer. The only one that you ever have, these days. With the way your senses have been heightened since Namjoon has turned you, all you can think about his him. The smooth, warm skin of his neck. The spicy sent of his cologne and natural musk of his skin. His deep, throaty laugh as he lets you nuzzle into him, dig into him, do whatever you want.

Blood lust keeps you from going to parties with him. You’re not ready. Not this early, and certainly not with Namjoon, who acts like a natural sparkplug for you. Even with him in the same room, your instincts and rational thought blur the line between beast and person.

“Yeah?” he asks. Cocky. Assured. You roll to the side, hiding your face in the pillow. “Want me to come come and take care of you?”

You nod, but he can’t see you. He hums a question and you open your mouth, feeling the throbbing in your gums intensify at the thought of him coming home. “Please.”

“Okay. Give me twenty minutes, alright?”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you… what?”

You feel the heat creep up your neck, a blooming inferno of pleasure and embarrassment and shyness all wrapped up into a smooth little cocktail. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Anything for you baby.” Just as you go to hang up, Namjoon adds in a warning, “Don’t you dare touch yourself without me.”

Even giddy from the threat, you listen to him. Instead of toeing the line of how far you can push him, you lay in bed like a good little fledging. Before you were turned, being stubborn with Namjoon was one of your favorite things to do. He’s not quick to anger, he has all the time in the world for your shenanigans, and he is more than happy to wait until you behave yourself.

Wait is no longer in your vocabulary. Vampirism comes along with life-changing traits. Better hearing, smell, and site. You’re much faster and you don’t need sleep as much - and according to Namjoon, eventually won’t need it at all. You’re nearly invincible, and once you pass the blood phase, you can return to mixing in a normal diet with your A Positive drinks.

But something you didn’t expect was sensation. Everything feels more. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. Music moves through you differently, bringing you to tears as you hear notes and sounds you’ve never noticed before. Skin-to-skin touch drives you wild, like your outer layer of flesh has become a minefield of nerve receptors, sparking at the slightest touch.

It is overwhelming and addicting, and you’ve learned right away that making Namjoon punish you for flirting with rebellion will drive you into hysterics faster than it will drive you to pleasure.

So you wait, just like he asked.

Hot air clings to your skin. Temperature eventually won’t bother you, but you’re still a fledging. With each day, things that were normal as a human will fade. Some things - like the eating - will return. For now, you feel flustered and shaky, knowing Namoon is coming home.

Your Namjoon. Your boyfriend. And sire.

Namjoon explained the convoluted relationship between sire and fledging only once. You have barely listened, to fixate on the bass thumping beat of the pulse in his neck. It isn’t uncommon for fledglings to be attached to their sires, especially since the vampire’s blood flows through the veins of their newly turned companion.

Plus, it’s easier to drink from Namjoon than from a person. Blood bags work fine. Deer work better. But when Namjoon lets you sink your teeth into his tender flesh to taste his most recently meal is divine, driving you somewhere between hunger and lust, trying to straddle both.

When the door to the loft opens, you sag in relief. Sweat beats on the back of your neck as you sit up a little in bed. Pillows prop you up. You’re in one of his shirts, the fabric soft and smelling like him, reaching to your mid-thigh.

Seeing him ignites your instincts, gasoline to a flame. Your fangs prick at your gums, the ache intensifying as you feel them slide out gently, prodding your tongue lightly. Your breathing quickens and your eyes zero in on him, unable to tear your eyes away.

He looks good tonight. He looks good always, but the way the turtle neck hugs the wide frame of his body makes your mouth salivate, drool pooling on your tongue. His arms ripple under the dark fabric as he stands by the door, shuffling his shoes off.

The dark shirt is tucked into perfectly tapered black dress pants, showing off his perfect waist. Namjoon’s dark hair is styled back and out of his face. The silver hoop in his right ear catches the moonlight when he turns to look at you, full lips spreading into a grin.

Namjoon rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. Your eyes dart to the smooth, tan ski no his forearms. You can already smell the blood pumping through him. It’s hot. Fresh. Your fingers grip the sheets as you sit up eagerly, realizing he must have fed just for you. To let you drink.

His gait is smooth and casual. You say nothing as you stare at him. He crosses the spacious, warehouse-style loft until he’s standing in front of the bed, looking down at you, a pile in the sheets and blankets.

Slowly, Namjoon dips his gaze down to the apex of your thighs, which are squeezed shut and shaking. Every hair stands up on the back of your neck as Namjoon puts a single knee onto the mattress. It sinks under his weight and he leans forward, hand brushing your knees to ease your legs open.

Your legs slide against the fabric unde you smoothly, feeling like heavy. It flusters you, but not nearly as much as Namjoon looking at your dripping folds, nostrils flaring. He smirks and meets your gaze, his eyes dark as ever.

“Let me see your hands.”

You untwist them from the sheets and hold them up. He leans forward more catching your fingers to twist them in the light. Your eyes flutter shut at the spark of his touch, pleasure rippling through you. It makes you go pliant. His tough fingertips turn your hands this way and that, every brush of them against your skin making you burn.

“Good girl,” Namjoon croons. You open your eyes as he drops your hands. Belatedly, you realize he was checking to see if you’d touched yourself and left signs of stickiness on your fingertips. He crawls onto the bed properly, shuffling until he’s on his knees between your legs. “Does it ache?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

Letting your head fall to the side, you close your eyes. Your pussy pulses between your legs, desire so raw for him that you have to clench your teeth to stop from crying. Namjoon’s hand skim up and down your thighs, each stroke sending you further into a pent up craze. Your heart thunders against your chest, louder and louder until you can hear your own blood rushing through your body, hunger spiking.

When you open your eyes, you meet Namjoon’s. It’s quiet in the room. Your tongue runs over the tips of your fangs. They pinch tender flesh and you open your mouth a little, flashing Namjoon your pearly little incisors.

Namjoon’s gentle hands turn to blunt nails scraping down your thighs. “What do you want?”

“Daddy.”

“Need to be taken care of?” You nod, head starting to get cloudly with want.

It’s hard like this. To figure out how to articulate. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth and your gaze is trapped on his neck. The subtle pulse drags you in. You don’t think in words so much as images and feelings. Brief flashes of what you want to do as an idea more than a thought.

Stuck between giving in to a primal instinct and being a thought-processing human leaves you in a stretch of grey that only Namjoon knows how to navigate for you. Because he knows you and what you need. Knows just what to do to get you through it.

“I’ve got you, baby.” He grips the bottom of your shirt - his shirt - and pulls upward. The scrape of the cotton against your skin is like fire. “You remember how to tell me when it’s too much?”

Too much is very likely to happen. It has before. When the thoughts, the feelings, and the sensations are so overwhelming that it suddenly feels like you will blink out of existence.

“Yes, daddy.”

The nickname drips from your tongue like nectar. You don’t remember when you started calling him that, only that it feels good and that you like the way his mouth twitches upward when you say it. Like the way it makes him a little more feral.

“Tell me.”

“Indigo.”

Cool air pebbles your nipples. You shiver, exposed, and splay out for him. His dark eyes drink you in. Twisting your fingers in the sheets, you watched with hooded eyes, feeling the arousal drip drip drip between your legs.

Namjoon’s hands are like embers as he traces your skin. Up your legs, hips, stomach, fingers tracing under the swells of your breasts. His fingers stroke upward, dizzying touch circling your nipples gently. It hurts. The ache for him is deep, your mouth falling open to reveal your fangs as you hiss.

His mouth twitches as he lowers himself down. The anticipation makes you suck in a sharp breath, holding it trapped until it comes out in a long, wined whine as Namjoon’s tongue flicks at your hardened nipple.

Immediately your hands shoot up to his arms. He doesn’t mind, letting you dig your nails into his shirt as he sucks generously at your tit, sending you wild. The sensation is overpowering. You feel a ringing in your ears as you press your chest up into his mouth.

More more more more.

You don’t realize you’re babbling, saying the words out loud until he’s laughing, dark voice vibrating through your skin as he kisses his way to your other nipple.

“More?” he asks. “You know how to ask.”

“Please,” you gasp, feeling the tip of his tongue apply the barest pressure imaginable. “Please, it hurts.”

Namjoon’s fangs scrape sensitive flesh. It makes you sing, squeezing your eyes shut as you pant through what is barely the beginning of intimacy. You’re already woozy and preening and light-headed and he knows it. Maybe takes a little pity on you.

Normally, Namjoon likes to take his time. Now, he moves with more urgency. He dives in for your neck, plying your skin with wet, generous kisses as he does. You bare your neck for him, pliant and obedient, knowing that your artery is there for the taking if he wants to.

Blood sharing is intimate between vampires. Even sires rarely share blood with their fledglings the way Namjoon does. It’s only done between the most precious of partners, between two vampires ready to consume one another. To be one another.

Anything less would be an act of cruelty or desperation, and this is neither.

Namjoon doesn’t bite down, though. He slides his hand between your legs, fingers brushing against your sticky folds to relieve some of the tension. You whimper, nodding your head to unasked questions as his fingers lazily trace circles around your clit.

Pleasure ebbs and flows, your blood rushing. You can feel your heart thundering in your chest as he kisses his way up to your mouth, stealing your lips in a searing kiss. It’s all tongue and fangs, the wet slide of his lips against yours messy and carnal and hungry.

Your hips roll into his hand as Namjoon plays with your cunt properly. You’re relentless, rolling your hips into the palm of his hand, pressing your swollen clit against him for friction. It’s a messy slide but it feels so good, brows pinched, mouth open as you pant.

Namjoon sinks a finger into your throbbing entrance and you go mad. Your nails rake down his sleeves, tearing fabric as you go. Your legs shake, muscles squeezed tight as he fucks his fingers up into you, meeting your sloppy thrusts.

It’s feral and heated, driven purely by the inferno burning in your stomach. Namjoon catches your earlobe between his fangs, dragging the sharp points across soft flesh. You let out a loud, wanton sound, unable to control yourself.

Shaking. Sweaty. Deteriorating. This is what he does to you with just his hands. His fingers press into your cunt, hitting your spot each time. It feels like pandemonium, walls clenching down on his fingers as you start to come loose around him.

“Fuck you’re a mess,” he growls, nipping your jaw as you frantically chase an orgasm. The wet slap of his fingers is loud, backtracked by your shaky breathing. “Fucking my hand like a little whore.”

“Daddy,” you mumble, eyes rolled back. You know it’s depraved. You don’t care. You just want him. Anyway you can have him.

Namjoon knows. His mouth goes to your neck. Your breath hitches, waiting as the flat of his tongue laps against your pulse point. When he bites down, you unravel.

Pain and pleasure unfurl, white-hot. You gush around his fingers, body convulsing. The warmth at your neck sedates you momentarily, knocking you into a state of bliss. Your head spins and it feels like you’re everywhere and nowhere all at once, not even breathing.

Namjoon takes long draughts. You feel his tongue pressed against your punctured skin. Feel the hot, slow bead of blood dripping down your neck to your shoulder. Every nerve is on fire and alive.

“Want,” you gasp. Namjoon removes his mouth from your neck. You feel the blood running, sticky. “Want want want want want.”

Namjoon kisses you. He tastes like blood, tongues tangling. You suck his tongue into your mouth generously, making him moan deep in his throat. The sound of him drives you further. You surge upward, seeking and hungry, hands tearing. He snarls when you rip off the shirt but he has others. Nothing is more important than him - than this.

Warm skin meets your hands. Vampires recently fed aren’t cold at all, their skin burning with fresh blood and heat trapped between you. Your fingers explore the taught muscles of his chest, the dips in his biceps and shoulders. Namjoon is a work of art, towering over you as he sits up to kick off his pants, movements blinding.

Your hands don’t remain still, grabbing any part of him you can, mouth latching on. You suck at his wrist, forearm, bicep. Anything you can taste, your mouth is there, searching. You don’t bite, though. Not until he lets you. Not until you have his permission.

Namjoon ducks between your legs. You gasp, feeling his tongue eagerly sliding up your folds. Your hands shoot to his hair, locking in his silky strands as he drinks you down.

It's feverish. Your feet kick out as Namjoon ravishes you, tongue plunging into your cunt, mouth sucking greedily on your clit. The stimulation is maddening, sending you shrieking toward another high.

He doesn't stop, smacking his lips together, licking, gasping, pressing his face further and further until he's shoving you up the bed, tongue buried inside of you.

Namjoon sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking over the swollen bud. You squeal and crash down, orgasm washing through you as you come into his mouth.

He devours, tongue lapping, mouth sucking. He leaves nothing spared, and when he finally pulls away, panting and shining with cum and blood, the bottom half of his face slick and eyes blown, you know that you'll never want someone else. Anything else.

The world spins when Namjoon lifts you. You blink and he’s under you, his thick cock leaking onto his stomach. Your mouth waters as he settles you in his lap, his back against the pillow. Namjoon looks like a dark god, his sweaty hair falling into his dark eyes, mouth kissed with crimson, tan skin glowing.

Your hands go to his face, cradling his jaw. For a second, your touch is soft. Nestled in his lap, you trace the outline of his jaw, brushing your fingers to wet lips. He is yours. You are his. In body, soul, and blood. His gaze softens, as though he sees this too.

“Mine,” you murmur, thumb pulling at his bottom lip. Your gaze meets his. “Right, Daddy?”

“Yours,” he agrees, lifting your hips with one hand and stroking his cock with the other. He settles you over the dark tip and you shiver, head tilting back. “And you are mine.”

In a single, fluid motion, Namjoon spears you on his shaft. You let out a shriek, pleasure bolting through you. You feel full, gasping as you’re fully seated in his lap. Namjoon doesn’t wait for you to adjust, pulling you in to lay against his chest as he plants his feet on the bed, fucking up into you.

You go mute. Your body slides against his, your chest pressed against his, your face buried in his neck. You can smell the blood there, and hear the beating pulse like a siren’s call. Drink drink drink.

You wait, completely distracted by the way Namjoon thrusts into you, jostling your frame into his. His arms are wrapped tight around your waist, your knees digging into the bed. He gives and you just take, eyes rolling back in your head, blood running down your neck, mouth slack.

Despite his ferocity, it’s intimate. You feel every breath Namjoon takes. Feel his thighs flex underneath you, feel the way your arousal slides down your legs onto his waist as he fucks you. It’s feral but it’s different, a tether of emotion that goes deeper than anything you could perceive as a human snapping between you.

Namjoon slides down the bed a little. Changes the angle so that he’s hitting you deeper, harder. You clench your teeth, barely hanging on to your sanity as you wait for him to give you permission to bite him. Your mouth salivates at the thought, his blood roaring in your ears.

You roll your hips into him. It’s a little disjointed but it works, sliding along his cock as he drives you closer and closer to the high roaring inside of you. It’s so close you can feel it burning, nova under your skin. Only Namjoon can do this to you, lighting you up until you’re burning so hot you can’t take it.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. No thoughts trespass here. It is only the shivering pleasure as Namjoon relentlessly takes you, growing. You scoot your face toward his neck, nose pressed against hot skin. You’re trembling, completely at his fingertips.

Waiting. Waiting.

“Go ahead, baby,” he grunts, fingers digging into the globes of your ass. “You’ve been so good.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice barely audible even to your sensitive ears. “Thank you.”

Finally, you indulge. You open your mouth against Namjoon’s neck, soft and tentative. Your tongue sweeps across salted, hot skin. You whine, feeling his pulse beating under the tender skin. Your fangs scrape against him and he moans, arms tightening around you.

And then you bite down.

Namjoon moans. You lose yourself in the sweet taste immediately, like cherry wine rushing into your mouth. Rapture. You drink slowly. Soft. Gulping as your veins ignite. Every atom lights up along the way, until you’re a vibrating mass of energy.

It’s like threads of awareness connect you. You feel Namjoon’s burning desire, his hunger for you. The deep-rooted adoration and love for you, a river that runs down to his marrow. You bathe in it, letting the connection wash over you.

Blood sharing gives you glimpses to Namjoon that you normally don’t see. Flashes of the way he sees you, his heart fluttering. Snatches of seeing something at a store that reminds him of you. The way you taste to him, the way he wants to hold you and never let go.

It’s so much.

You don’t take much. You know your limit, and as your thoughts start to black out, you remove your mouth, gasping. Your head falls to Namjoon’s shoulders, eyelids fluttering. Your stomach coils on the edge of another orgasm so strong that you just let it happen. Let it slam into you, a rogue wave.

The world blinks out of existence. There’s just the smell of Namjoon. The ghost of his mouth on your temple, and the softest feeling of floating. This is what you crave. The feeling of lightness with the accompanying touch of Namjoon. Because even in this space alone, there is a thread back down to him, a beacon to pull you back.

Slowly, you come back to him. You feel his heart beating against yours. You move your head, nuzzling into him. You feel flaky, dried blood but you don’t care, nuzzling into him. Your Namjoon. His arms are steady around you like a cocoon.

You have never been safer. More loved.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice raspy.

“Always.”

You settle in comfortable silence, wrapped up in one another. Nothing will ever beat this. A thousand lifetimes with Namjoon is all you ever need to do this as many times as you want.

“You okay?” you nod against him. Your fingers slide up his neck and face to card through his hair, playing with the strands. Your eyes are still closed, enjoying the sound of his heartbeat. “Good.”

“A little needy.”

“You? Needy? Unheard of.” he teases.

You grin. The carnal desire from earlier washes away, fed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s really hot.” You hum, continuing to play with his hair but saying nothing. “I’m kind of like your fang daddy, huh?”

Your hand pauses and you crack an eye open. Namjoon is grinning up at the ceiling, eyes turned to crescent moons as he tries not to laugh at his joke. Gone is the dark, powerful vampire, replaced by the sweet, boyish man that you love just as much.

“Namjoon,” you chastise, tugging his hair a little.

He giggles. “How about fang father?”

You sigh. ��Whatever you want. Anything you want.”

He kisses your temple and lets you fall asleep.

#namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #namjoon fic #kim namjoon fic #bts smut #bts fic #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #minors do not interact #mindors dni #haliweeen #vampire namjoon

738 notes · View notes

bubbleebubz · 2 months

Note

Can you please do spencer reid smut!!! With a dom spencer reid, with pet names (GOOD GIRL) and Bondage!!! So! Much! Bondage! And they are so mady in love ajd its kinky but also so wholesome PLEASE

YES YES YESSSSS (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧✧✧ʸᴱˢ

It's 1 AM bare with me pls pls

SMUTT, CURSING, ORAL SEX (female receiving) lovey dovey after care.

Bound to love

Spencer loved having Y/N move in with him. Especially when he comes home from long cases, to just have her there with him already makes him so happy.

Spencer was away on a week long case, it didn't go smoothly, the information didn't add up and the MO switched mid case.

So when he got home and saw Y/N in only his sweatshirt and a pair of panties he lost it.

"Your home! " Y/N says happily running over and kissing him, just a quick peck. He pulls her closer kissing her harder and longer, forcing his tongue in her mouth making her moan.

"I missed you.. So. Much" he said between kisses. "How much? " she teases, feeling arousal course through her veins and into her panties.

"Go to the bedroom, strip and sit on the bed and I'll show you, I'll be there in a minute now be a good girl and be patient. No touching yourself sweetheart" he says smirking.

Her cheeks blush at the pet name and she nods and does as told.

Spencer takes his sweet ass time, making her wait, testing her patients, seeing how well she will listen, he gets a glass of water and some snacks for after.

Y/N waits impatiently naked on their shared bed.

Of course she wanted to be a good girl, but sometimes it's fun breaking the rules.

She lays back, propped up on some pillows and spreads her legs, smearing her wetness from her slit to her clit (I'm Dr Seuss now?) rubbing it lazily.

Spencer hears her moan and grins to himself. His plan worked. He knew she wouldn't be able to wait, she is to much of a needy slut.

He enters the bed room with a bag.

"Tsk tsk, i thought you were my good girl baby? Hm? " He says disappointedly. "M'your good girl Spence" she whines as he removes her hand from herself, she looks at the bag and then back at him and raises an eyebrow.

He leans down, his mouth next to her ear. "Remember you said you wanted to try some new things? Hmm? " he whispers out into her ear, his hot breath making her shiver. She nods. "Words love" he reminds. "Y-yes" she says, trying to focus on his words rather than the close proximity. "Good girl, now, do you trust me? " he asks standing back up and away "yes of course" she says. He smiles.

He pulls a soft rope out of the bag, it's his favorite shade of purple. Her breathing hitches.

"Is this ok? " he asks before he ties her wrists to the bed. She nods before remembering to use her words. "Yes sir" she says.

The ropes are tight, but give enough room not to hurt and to be comfortable. Then he ties her ankles to the bed.

"You ok? " he asks one more time. "Yes please just touch me Spencer " she whines, hips arching off the bed in need.

He chuckles before stripping himself of his work clothing. His cock hard, leaking precum, her pussy clenches at the thought of him being inside her.

He kisses her passionately, kissing down her neck, flicking his tongue across both her nipples, before decending lower to her sweet pussy, licking around where she needs him the most before he takes her clit into his mouth sucking gently.

His finger slips in before another one is added making her whimper out in pleasure. "Spencer oh god I'm gonna cum" she moans. He groans against her, vibrating against her. She cums hard but he doesn't stop til she comes another time.

"Need your cock please" she says desperately, "shh your gonna get it, be a good girl" he groans, stroking himself before lining up with her dripping core. He pushes in, letting out a low groan. His face burried in her neck, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

"Your taking me so good"

"Such a good girl for me"

"Your mine, this pussy was made for me baby"

"Making me feel so good sweetheart. "

The words send her over the edge, he soon follows after, filling her pussy up with his seed.

"I love you" she says out of breath.

"I love you too, so much" he says before quickly getting the water and snacks he prepared earlier.

"You were so good baby" he says, her head on his chest, as they watch her favorite movie.

"I liked that a lot" she admits shyly.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #soft dom!spencer #dom!spencer #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #dom spencer reid

200 notes · View notes

3rachaslut · 2 months

Note

hiii, so im a new follower but i LOVE your work so much its just *chefs kiss* 😣❤️

so im not sure if youve already done this or not, i haven’t gone that deep into a rabbit hole in your page yet lol anyways

i was wondering how you would think skz ot8 would react to reader having a belly piercing/a back tattoo?

really really love what you do ✨🤍🎀 MWAH !!!

hello lovely anon!!! it’s so nice to meet you🫂 stay a while i hope you enjoy the rest of my work ahh TYSM🥹🤍

okay let’s get it!!

SKZ X GENDER NEUTRAL READER🖤

mainly fluff, some are kinda suggestive.

bangchan

you drop your bags in the hall as you slump through the doorway and into you and your boyfriends shared apartment.

“hi baby” chan shouts from the kitchen. kicking your shoes off, you see him appear in your peripheral vision and soon you feel his hands wrapping round you. “long day?” he says as you nuzzle into his should and nodding your head.

“tired” you mumble into his t-shirt, instantly feeling more relaxed at the familiar smell of his purfume. “how about i give you a massage baby, hm?” a smile spread across his face as he admired your cuteness in your tired state. “yeah? okay. go get undressed and i’ll be there in a second”

you pretty much drop onto the bed just after you strip down and lay on your front, enjoying the feeling of the soft mattress underneath you. you hum in contentment.

“okay baby so i’ve got the oi-“ chan cuts himself off and you turn your head in confusion. “um.. when did you get that?” he says with a smirk on his face, clearly loving the new piece on you.

“a few weeks ago” you say, still looking back at him with a smug smile on your face.

“and i haven’t seen it?!” he exclaims, practically running to your bed and jumping over the top of you to admire your new decoration.

“you like it?”, the answer already apparent with the look on chans face. you chuckle and turn your head again to rest on your arm.

“i absolutely love it! darling it’s so beautiful”….

lee know

you feel your body shiver as you pull your shirt over your head and to the floor, your body involuntarily shaking like a leaf at cold air in the room. it had been a long night out with the members and you couldnt wait to get into your pjs.

“oh my- baby- ” you hear lee know say from behind you. it was a rarity that lee know was ever at a loss for words but you knew that your new tat you didn’t tell him about was a good contender at making it a possibility. you were right.

“yesss?” you tease, turning around to face him and walk towards the edge of the bed where he was sat, his jaw practically hitting the ground. you could see his approval of your decision by the tent that was forming in his pants.

“as absolutely stunning as you are, turn around again”. and you do, feeling particularly smug right now. “wow” he says and you hear him walking towards you. suddenly you feel his hand tracing along your back and you quickly struggle to keep your composure, your breathe hitching in your throat.

“y- you like it?” you mewl through jagged breaths at the feel of his hands roaming your back causing goosebumps to form all over your naked body.

“a lot. however.. i may have to punish you for not asking for permission before you got it..” lee know says and the words linger in the air between you two. you knew by the shift in the atmosphere just what was about to happen and a smile tugged at your lips. it was gonna be a long, pleasurable night and you knew by the end of it, your tattoo may not be the only new marking on your back….

changbin

“are you 100% sure you wanna do this y/n? i really don’t mind if you’re not, i’m more than happy just kissing you, you know that right?” changbin said with a panicked look on his face. you had finally told him that you were ready to have sex with him but since it was your first time, he wanted to make sure you were definitely ready.

“yes binnie, i am sure!” you said, a smile plastered all over your face which was soon reciprocated by your boyfriend. changbin raises his pinky to your chest and only when you wrapped yours around his did he take that as true confirmation. no matter how old he may be, a pinky promise was always sacred.

“okay” he whispers into your ear, working his way down, planting kisses down your neck to get you ready. your eyes flutter shut as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as his hands make their way down your waist and underneath your oversized t-shirt. you open your eyes at the pause of his hands over you and you see his face is covered in surprise.

“what’s wrong?”. the words rush out of your mouth in panic but you begin to see the smirk tugging at the side of his mouth and your anxiety quickly dismisses itself.

“i didn’t know you had your beautiful tummy pierced?” he says excitedly. he lifts your t-shirt, eager to see it in person. he looks at your tummy and then back at you with such a huge smile on his face. he clearly approves. “wanna see more of you babe, like right now!”….

hyunjin

“my love?” hyunjin speaks from across the bed as you dangled your legs over the other side, himself propped upwards against the headboard and staring at you from behind.

“yes baby?” you reply. “when did you get such a beautiful tattoo?” he asks and you can hear the smile on his face through his words. you hear the bed squeak as he leans closer and the whispers of “aahs” from behind you.

“only a few days ago, it’s still quite sensitive” you say. “i won’t touch is then but wow it’s beautiful. beautiful tattoo for my beautiful baby” you blush at his words as you lean towards your console, flicking the tv on in the process. friday nights were spent by you and hyunjin both having ‘me time’, however you couldn’t ever bring yourself to leave each others sides. he drew and you played video games.

the rustling of pencil on paper was one of the most comforting noises for you as you had soon connected the noise to your boyfriend, hyune. after about half an hour, you felt the bed dip behind you and a tap on your shoulder. you turn your head in attention.

“what do you think love?” hyunjin whispered into your ear as he handed you a drawing of your new back tattoo. your mouth falls open and your eyebrows ruffle in utter disbelief at how beautiful the picture was and how much love you could tell was put into it.

“hyunnie it’s beautiful!” you say, your voice wobbly as you feel tears start to prick at your eyes.

“not as beautiful as you darling”…

han jisung

“turn over babe, let sungie spoon you” han says as he sniggers down your ear at the cringe that just came out of his own mouth.

“oh ji” you exasperate and let out a huffed laugh, rolling your eyes and turning around so your back is resting against hans also bare chest.

“oh- y/nah!!” he gasps and you jump slightly at the sudden loudness of his words. “pretty pretty pretty!” he says as he adores your new tat. “it’s so beautiful!” he says wrapping his free arm around you and swaying you both back and forth in your bed.

“you like it then ji?” you chuckle as he begins to trace the outlines of the black ink in your skin, the strokes on your back sending shivers all up you but han didn’t seem to notice. you hum in relaxation.

“i love it so much” he whispers down your ear as he continued to trace the shapes of your tattoo over and over again only ever stopping to plant kisses on the decorated area.

“not as much as i love you though”. he speaks softly down your ear as to not disturb your relaxed state.

“oh- are you sleepy?” he mutters and you moan as confirmation.

“okay, goodnight angel”

felix

“hey lixxxx” you sing, nearly running towards your boyfriend just as you got through the door. you practically throw yourself into his arms and he laughs contently.

“aww hi baby, what’s got you all smiley?” felix says, smiling as he runs his hand through your hair and planting a kiss on your head. “welll you know that thing i’ve been wanting to do for weeks now..” you say swaying side to side in his arms looking up at him. “yes- oh my god you did it!” he says just as excited for you as you are.

“yes! and look how pretty it is” you exclaim, eagerly lifting your t-shirt up to show him your new tummy piercing. he leans down to adore it too.

“your tummy was so beautiful before but nowww.. wow! , it’s so sparkly y/n!” he says with a huge smile on his face in reaction to your elation. “you’re so adorable i wanna just squish you” felix said as he lifted you off your feet and towards the couch. he gently plants you down underneath him and begins trailing kisses down your chest and towards your stomach. you hum as he kisses all over your tummy, careful not to catch the jewellery.

“my darling, you are getting more and more irresistible by the day”…

seungmin

“hey baby” seungmin greets, accompanied by an evening kiss. “you look gorgeous, have you been out? it was meant to be your rest day today” he says, plopping himself next to you on the sofa, the smell of his perfume lingering around you as he rests his head on your shoulder.

“maybeeee..” you say teasingly, leaning into him. “oh yeah?” his ears perking up in interest. “and where did you go?” he asks attentively.

“to get a new tattoo” you smile and the look of shock on his face is so comical you can’t help but huff out a laugh. “really?! oh my god let me see” he begs, his legs jittering in excitement. you turn your back to him and take your shirt off, discarding it on the sofa next to you.

“oh my- it’s beautiful” seungmin gasps in awe. “i love it!” you turn around to look at him. “no, i’m not done looking” he states, and you chuckle. turning your back to him once again, you feel his fingertips tracing the currently sealed skin and the pressure feels so relieving on the sensitive area you let out a sigh at the feeling.

“what do you think?” you ask, already knowing the answer. “you look so hot is what i think” seungmin replies. “but as much as i love it baby, i must ask, how long is it now until we can have sex?” seungmin says, his lip pouting and you giggle in response.

“you know minnie.. there are ways to have sex that won’t hurt my new tat?” you say insinuatingly, raising your eyebrows.

“go to the bedroom, right now”…

jeongin

“innie are you showering?” you yell from outside the bathroom door. “yes baby” he replies, shouting through the water pouring and the music blaring in the bathroom. you open the door and let yourself in, the misty air instantly making you warm. peeping your head around the shower curtain, you were greeted by his beautiful naked form. you will never get tired of adoring his body. “mind if i join you?” you ask, however already knowing the answer.

he responds with a smile and reaches his hand out for you to balance on as you climb into the bath tub. exactly as you did with him, he stares at your naked body up and down, admiring you. however, a gasp leaves his mouth as his eyes rest on your belly button. he looks up at you with a smile.

“i really fucking like that” he smirks, tilting his head back, rinsing the bubbles out of his hair. you move closer to him and run your hands up his waist. “like what innie?” you ask with faux confusion.

he slowly looks back down at you with narrow eyes, lifting your chin up to face him with his thumb and forefinger. “you know exactly what it is that i like” he says smugly, leaning in to kiss your parted lips. suddenly, his hands are roaming your stomach and you nearly melt into his touch. you can only whimper in response and you can feel him smile into the kiss.

“you drive me so fucking crazy y/n”…

a/n: sorry some of them are lowkey trash i really tried my best to make the scenarios different from each other but i hope i did anons request justice🤍

127 notes · View notes

sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 8 days

Text

A Place to Call Home

Note: a big thank you to @canyonmoon-2 for this request, and even more for being so patient! I know it's taken me so long to write this, I am sorry for that, but I really hope you'll like this 🖤

Reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated 🖤

Warnings: brief mention of losing loved ones at the start, other than that; all fluff!

Pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

Summary: you lived a domestic life with Sihtric during the sickness, after you had only just met.

Word count: 2,9k

Masterlist

Your village had been burned down in an attempt to try and stop the sickness from spreading. You had gotten away in time but didn't have a place to call home anymore, and in the end, the flames hadn't stopped the illness from spreading further.

You wandered the deserted lands for days on your own after you had fled, not encountering a single living person until you eventually crossed paths with an odd group during another hot and sunny afternoon.

The strange mixture of travellers you encountered consisted of a shy monk, a loud Irish man, a handsome Dane, a few youngsters and a kind Saxon lady. Finan, the Irish man, asked where you were heading to after you had introduced yourself, and you confessed you weren't sure where you were going. He then asked you if you were good with children, to which you answered that you used to take care of your younger sister but that you had lost everything and everyone way before the sickness had even appeared. And after Finan had consulted the monk and the Dane for a brief moment, while the Saxon lady stood protectively in front of the children, you were invited to travel with them, which you gladly accepted.

You were happy to find yourself afoot with the group, as your spirits were lifted by simply being in the presence of the living, and the fact that these living hadn't lost their hope and own good spirits did you well too. You got along with all of them, and Eadith, the Saxon lady, was someone you immediately felt at ease with. You also discussed your role in the group with her, and as Eadith would make sure to look after the youngsters during the night and to tend to possible wounds or illness, you agreed to prepare food for everyone and keep an eye on the young ones during the day. During your travels you enjoyed the banter between Finan and Osferth, the monk, and your heart filled with joy at the laughter of the younger companions. But you quickly realised you couldn't help but let your eyes wander to the handsome Dane, Sihtric.

Initially you had tried to keep your distance from Sihtric, as he was rather rough looking, but when you suddenly had to share a room with him once you arrived in Wollerton for a well-needed respite, things changed quickly. The wooden house you all stayed at was big, but so was the group you travelled with. And after you had claimed your room for the next few days, you found out that Sihtric had claimed that very same room too. Finan enjoyed the awkward moment when you and Sihtric tried to figure out what to do next, as there was only one bed and you both didn't want to give up the room.

You didn't know if the people you had only just met could be trusted at night so you wanted your own room, but Sihtric didn't want to give up the room because he did not want to sleep with Finan or Osferth. And as Eadith would already share her room with the kids, Sihtric didn't want that room either. Eventually Sihtric offered to share the room, but not the bed, to which you agreed after the Dane said he'd sleep on the floor.

You were pleased to find out Sihtric was rather quiet and one to keep his word, and he also swore to protect you whenever the need would be there, so you finally slept decently for the first time in quite a while. But before you dozed off, Sihtric had carefully asked about you and your story, and he in return was willing to share a little about himself and the people he travelled with. You believed you were amongst good people, and the stories that you were told made you only more interested in the beautiful and kind stranger who slept next to your bed, on the hard wooden floor.

The following day you tried to find your way around the house, like everyone else, and you quickly found out that it was nearly impossible to keep an eye on those kids on your own when they were awake. Finan and Osferth were out near the woods, practising their sword skills, while Eadith took a well deserved nap after having been up for most of the night, taking care of poor Aelfwynn who had fallen ill.

You ran around the house, the skirt of your linen dress clutched in your hands while desperately trying to keep up with the kids and their shenanigans. It was a tiring task, and on top of that everyone also depended on you to prepare food for them, and you were running out of time to put dinner together. With flushed cheeks and strands of hair stuck to your sweaty forehead, after you had chased the kids outside, you found Sihtric in the living room area on your way to the kitchen. He was comfortably sitting with his legs spread out on the table in front of him, and he enjoyed some fresh water from a golden cup while he laid back.

'Sihtric?' you carefully interrupted his leisure, 'I… I'm sorry to ask, but could you perhaps help me?'

'Help?' Sihtric asked with a light frown, and he sat up straight, 'of course, lady. What is it you need?'

'It's the kids,' you confessed with an awkward chuckle, 'they are… I can't keep an eye on them all at once, and Eadith is resting. I just managed to make them play outside in the garden, because I also need to prepare food, but-'

'I will send them to Finan and Osferth,' Sihtric said with a soft smile, and he immediately jumped up to act on his words.

'Thank you,' you sighed with relief.

You began gathering the ingredients for the broth you were to make for dinner while Sihtric handled the kids outside and herded them away from the house. And when he returned, he quietly circled around in the kitchen behind you while you were oblivious, and he noticed you looked tired and a little stressed out. He saw the amount of unchopped vegetables on the wooden counter and watched you slice the rabbit meat, which was caught yesterday, as fast as you could while you had placed a large pot above the fire.

'Lady,' Sihtric said softly, yet he still startled you.

You jumped at his sudden presence, almost dropping the knife you held, and chuckled with a gasp as you turned around to face him.

'I'm sorry,' he said, 'I did not mean to scare you, I only want to ask if you need a hand.'

'It's okay,' you smiled and hid your flushed face, 'I just didn't hear you come back. But,' you paused and looked at the amount of unprepared food, 'I could use your help, yes.'

'Say no more,' Sihtric smiled and gave you a curt nod, then reached behind his back to unsheathe the dagger that was attached to his leather belt, 'I'll take care of those vegetables.'

You and Sihtric then prepared the food in silence together, enjoying the peace and quiet in the large house without the children running and screaming around. You worked smoothly beside each other in the kitchen, giving each other an occasional smile in passing and sometimes a lingering touch when handing something, which warmed your cheeks every time. And you had the same effect on Sihtric, his rosy cheeks betraying the pleasant warmth he felt whenever he was close to you. But you both left it unspoken and linger in the air around you.

You and Sihtric gave each other an understanding glance once you heard the children approach the house again after several hours, along with Finan and Osferth, knowing that the peacefulness you had experienced while making food was over now. And you all ate dinner in the large yet cosy dining area. The room was filled with chatter and laughter while you and Sihtric looked at each other a little more than you did at the others, as you sat on opposite ends of the oaken table, smiling faintly and as discreetly as possible to each other amidst the company of everyone else.

Later that night, after Sihtric had helped you wash the plates and cups and when darkness had taken over the sky outside, you both retreated back to your shared room. You talked quietly for hours, while the weather outside changed and thick dark clouds covered the Moon and her silver glow. The clouds brought rain, and soon after the drizzle had turned into big drops, thunder joined and rolled through the sky, making for a warm summer's night storm. Sihtric enjoyed the almost deafening thunder and the way the wooden beams vibrated at the heavy sound, while you clutched your sheets with sweaty hands and hid your face underneath.

You betrayed your own fear when you let out a sudden gasp once another bright flash spooked you, and it caught Sihtric's attention.

'Afraid, lady?' his voice was a calming remedy amidst the stormy night.

'I'm okay,' you said, but the tremble in your voice told him you were lying.

Sihtric didn't only hear it in your voice, but he also sensed your fear in the room. And while the thunder continued to terrorise the night, Sihtric quietly reached up the bed with his hand, in search of yours, and he didn't let go of your sweaty palm until he was sure you were fast asleep.

And since you had been so tired from your first full day around the children, you didn't even hear them cry at night a few rooms down the hall, as the weather had spooked them all too and Eadith had to hush them back to sleep.

The next day wasn't so different from the day before. You tried to keep up with the kids, which was impossible, while everyone else seemed occupied again, except for Sihtric, who found you plucking apples in the garden at noon. You were once again oblivious that he was there, as his feet were always quiet when he walked, even when unintentional.

'I was thinking,' he began, and he stopped talking when you jumped up and almost dropped the basket of apples, 'I'm sorry.'

Sihtric reached out, preventing the basket from tumbling out of your arms. But you couldn't catch your breath after your initial scare, as you suddenly looked up into his sparkling clear mismatched eyes while you stood closer than ever before.

'It's… it's okay,' you breathed and nervously clasped onto the basket, 'I, eh… what were you thinking of?'

'Huh?' Sihtric murmured and looked puzzled while he got lost in your eyes, 'oh, I… I was thinking that maybe we could take the children today and go for a hike with them, up the hill.'

'Oh,' you smiled, 'sure, yes, but… the food-'

'I already asked Eadith,' Sihtric said, excitement twinkling in his eyes, 'she will gladly prepare the food to have a break from them, so you and I can take them out for the day.'

You didn't mind spending some more time with Sihtric, and the children could use a good walk too in order to tire them out, so you agreed without any hesitation.

And not much later you and Sihtric strolled upwards the hill, through the tall grass, while the kids ran and wrestled each other ahead of you. It was another warm sunny day, but that didn't stop Sihtric from reaching out and holding your hand without saying a word. Your fingers were intertwined as you reached the top of the hill together, and there you laid down in the grass, under a thick tree from where you could watch the kids play at a safe distance. You both mindlessly leaned into each other as the time passed, gazing into each other's eyes while hands dared to discover each other's clothed bodies while talking about your pasts and eventually your futures. You both blushed as you explored his strong arms with your gentle hands, while his rough fingers lightly caressed your exposed ankles.

'Do you want pups yourself?' Sihtric asked.

'One day,' you smiled as you looked at the kids, 'hopefully I will be blessed one day, yes. But I'll need a husband first,' you said and looked back at him, 'what about you?'

'Yeah,' Sihtric chuckled, trying to be nonchalant while his cheeks warmed up again, and not because of the sun, 'I hope to be blessed too one day, with a wife and some of those little ones.'

You observed Sihtric while he nervously plucked at the tall grass beside him, biting down on his lip as he seemed to fight a smile.

'Do you need my help tomorrow?' he asked, 'with anything?'

'Maybe,' you shrugged lightly, 'I can always use some help preparing food or watching them,' you nodded towards the kids.

'I will help you,' Sihtric smiled, 'anytime.'

You smiled at him, and then he suddenly reached for your chin and leaned in, capturing you in the softest and sweetest kiss possible, which weakened your body and mind entirely until you were rudely disturbed when one of the youngsters fell and began to cry.

'I'll have a look,' Sihtric said as you attempted to get up, and you sat back with a smile on your face as you watched him tend to Aethelstan's bruise.

In the following days you and Sihtric grew closer as he continued to help you cook, clean and to look after the kids. Every night Sihtric would hold your hand while you still slept separately, and soon you began to steal quick and gentle kisses while preparing food in a quiet house. Finan had caught you two kissing in the kitchen several times already, and he only smirked whenever you and Sihtric backed away from each other quickly when being caught, pretending as if nothing had happened.

And Sihtric still maintained his bond with Finan and Osferth, in between spending time with you, occasionally ending in a brawl with them after some ale had been consumed late at night while the children were asleep and the grown up had a moment to wind down. But you somehow knew how to rile Sihtric back in before those friendly brawls would get out of hand. And once back in your shared room, you soon started to make out with him for hours on end. On the bed, on the floor, on the small table in the corner, it didn't matter to either of you as long as you got to be close after being around each other the whole day yet not being able to be openly intimate yet.

And it seemed that every day Sihtric became more and more adjusted and fond of the domestic life you lived temporarily together. You eventually shared the bed and woke up together, after which you'd make breakfast for him and the others, look after the kids, make lunch, take the kids for a hike or teach them how to defend themselves, followed by making dinner together and ending the day falling asleep together after hours of passionate kissing and even lovemaking.

And Sihtric soon figured out that this was what had been missing in his life, and what he had been unknowingly searching for ever since he was old enough to be called a young man; a place to call home. He started to crave to become a father of his own pups, even though he cared for the kids he had travelled with as if they were his own. But even more so he craved to be with you, and the idea of making you his wife and you carrying his pups drove him to near madness. And one day he simply couldn't contain his hope and excitement anymore when you were making dinner together for the last evening in the house, as you were to travel further by morning.

'Be my wife?' Sihtric blurted out while you were chopping meat together.

'I- what?' you gasped and chuckled, then frowned and looked at him, 'Sihtric?'

'My wife,' Sihtric said hoarsely, his nerves suddenly taking over, 'will you be my wife and have my pups?'

His big mismatched eyes darted all over your face while he awaited your answer in silence, and you both dropped your knives on your counter. You blinked rapidly, confused and overwhelmed but also taken by excitement and love. Because you loved Sihtric. You had fallen in love with him so quickly, and so had he, and there was nothing you wanted more than to be with him for the rest of your life and to raise your kids together. And so you smiled, widely, while tears crept up in your eyes and you then swung your arms around his neck.

'That's all I want,' you murmured while your face was buried in his chest.

'Then that is what you will have,' Sihtric smiled as he held you tightly wrapped in his arms, 'my lady.'

And with that promise, Sihtric had given you a place to call home again. A place where you finally belonged and felt safe again after everything, and that place was in his heart, which would always beat a little faster when you were around him, and he would love you and care for you and protect you until the day his heart was to stop.

taglist: @foxyanon @alexagirlie @sihtricsafin @neonhairspray @gemini-mama

@lexeirikrleif @sigtryggrswifey @skyofficialxx @djarinsgirl27 @m-a-s-h-k-a

@verenahx @mrsarnasdelicious @diiickbrainn @little-diable @maii777

@urmomsgirlfriend1 @dixie-elocin @elle4404 @bubblyabs @ylvie50

@hb8301 @willowbrookesblog @apolloanddaphnis @jennifer0305

@carnationworld @justanother-sihtricgirlie @stark-head @reidsbookstore @thenameswinter99

@deathbluestar113 @ladyinred2248 @zaldritzosrose @maryelle-cats @penumbrie

@solinarimoon @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @yungpoetfics @legitalicat @stupiddarkkside @volklana @sleepjam

if you want to be added to/deleted from the taglist, message me 🖤

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric fic #tlk fic

99 notes · View notes

beenbaanbuun · 1 month

Text

lord huron songs w/ateez

so listen…. i know i said nothing for a few days but sometimes your brain just thinks if something and then you have to do it because if you don’t you’ll forget about it!! anyway… i love lord huron so…

kim hongjoong - louisa

“i’m glad i met you,” hongjoong whispers to you one night as the two of you lie side by side on the hood of his car. whilst you lie watching the stars, distracted by the way the twinkle, hongjoong keeps his gaze firmly on you. the way the moonlight hits your skin has his heart beating at an unnatural rate; if he were to sit here and stare at you for much longer, he doesn’t doubt it would explode in his chest.

“yeah?” you murmur, voice sounding like a wind chime, bringing music and joy to his otherwise stormy life. he sighs, basking in the gentle sound for just a moment. “i’m glad i met you too,” you hum. hongjoong just shakes his head.

you’ll never know how he feels about you because you have a life outside of him. you have brightness and purpose; a job that you love and friends that care for you. you have happiness and passion; he has you and that’s all. monotony and routine take up his day to day, his simple nine to five slowly taking his resolve to pieces bit by bit. ‘good for nothing’ is how he sees himself and that’s how he’ll be remembered. he can only be glad that he met you when he did because now when he passes on in 60 years instead of just soon, loving husband will lie on his gravestone too.

he smiles at you brightly at the thought of you taking him by the hand and pulling him from the grave that he’s already dug for himself. your sweet words and gentle kisses helped him fill in the hole and pat the dirt back down. your tenderness and love spread the seeds and helped the grass grow back over the disturbed ground. it didn’t take long for that grave to become a thing of the past; a well kept secret that hongjoong would never share with another living soul.

he may have died, but your loving raised him.

park seonghwa - la belle fleur sauvage

the beat-up truck that sits outside of seonghwa’s stuffy office block sticks out like a sore thumb, the woman inside of it drawing the attention of each passer by. you don’t belong there, but perhaps that’s why people like to stop and stare. with beauty unmatched and a personality that even the strongest man couldn’t tame, you were nothing more than a fantasy to most of them. not to him, though. not to seonghwa.

he shrugs his suit jacket off and tosses it into the backseat through the open window. it’s lands with a thud, the expensive fabric all crumpled and disheveled. a year ago, the idea of treating his possessions so carelessly would’ve killed him, but as he crawls into the passenger seat, all he can think about is the woman sitting prettily behind the wheel.

“you know, you really don’t have to pick me up from work,” he chuckles as the door shuts behind him. “i appreciate the gesture, my little wildflower, but it’s a little far out of your way, isn’t it?”

you shrug as you start up the ignition, the rattly engine roaring to life.

“when has something being out of reach ever stopped me?” you muse, shifting the truck into gear, “you should know by now that it’ll take a lot more than a little car journey to keep me away from what i want.”

“am i what you want?” he teases, voice lilting prettily as he watches you try to hide your smile. he knows that if you didn’t have to keep your eyes on the road, you’d be sending him a look sharp enough to kill. though, even with that wildness in your eyes, seonghwa can’t think of a more beautiful person on this earth.

jeong yunho - fool for love

there’s a knock at your door, three loud thuds and then silence. a brief look towards the clock tells you that it’s late, but you can’t find it in you to worry. the danger of whoever is behind your door seems to be outweighed by your curiosity; who could possibly be coming to see you at such an hour? you shuffle to the door with determination, pyjama pants dragging along your floorboards as you search for the answer to your question.

your hand finds the doorknob, tugging at it lightly until the door swings open, a dear friend of yours waiting behind it. with a grin on your face, you go to greet him, but before a single word can slip from your tongue, his lips press against yours. it takes you by surprise, and yet somehow you don’t mind it; all it takes is a second or two until you’re kissing him back.

and then he pulls back, chest heaving with each death breath he pulls through his swollen lips. you brush a thumb against them, wiping away your spit.

“i’m leaving,” he says, as if that explains everything, “i’m skipping town and i… i need you with me… please.”

it’s not hard for you to pack your bags. in fact you’d say it’s rather easy. perhaps too much so to say that you’re saying goodbye to everything you’ve ever known. and as yunho loads your belongings into the back seat of his car, you can’t help but smile as you lock your door for the final time.

kang yeosang - until the night turns

you wake up from a dreamless slumber to your boyfriend staring down at you, tears in the corners of his eyes and a rattled expression painted over his pretty features. you frown at him, wearily lifting a hand to wipe away the droplets that had begin to make a path down the side of his face. in your hazy state, there’s not much more you can convince yourself to do; you hope that your wordless comfort is enough to settle him a little.

“i had a bad dream,” he explains, deep voice wavering like a scared child, “the world was ending and i just,” he cuts himself off with a sigh, “it sounds silly but i wanted to spend my last few hours with you.”

you can’t help but give him an amused smile. only he would let such a silly dream get to him this much, your sweet boy. it’s clear he needs comfort, and even with your brain only working at half the speed it should, you’re quick to tug him close and wrap him up in your arms; if it’s comfort he wants, then it’s comfort he’ll get. your lips find his temple.

“we can stay awake until the sun rises,” you offer, voice gravelly with sleep. he hums in appreciation as he huddles in closer.

“but what if the world does end?” his voice is pitiful and weak. you give him one long squeeze with your arms.

“then at least we’ll be together when it does.”

choi san - the man who lives forever

“you know how people say that no one wants to live forever?” san murmurs to you one morning. the two of you have yet to move from his bed, despite the clock on the nightstand letting you know that moon is rapidly approaching. the alarm has rang through the room at least thrice, and yet neither of you have dared to slip from the other’s arms. perhaps its what you both need, a full day of nothing, drowning in one another’s love. “i think i’d want to if you were with me.”

the words make you lift your gaze, your head that rests on his bare chest pivoting until you can see his face. it’s set in stone, expression deadly serious as he declares his intentions to live forever with you by his side. a petite grin finds its way to your lips.

“oh yeah?” you taunt, “and why is that?”

a large hand finds its way to the top of your head, gentle fingers caressing your hair as the man they belong to mulls over his thoughts. his expression twists thoughtfully as he pieces together what he wants to say. he’s handsome like this, not that he isn’t all the time. its just that the way his nose scrunches and his lips purse make you realise just how cute he is. you could fall in love with him all over again.

“because i think i could live in this moment with you until the day i die, and i’d still think it was too short,” his nails scrape against your scalp in a way that makes you instantly relax. you curl up into his body with a hum. “i want to have you in my arms until the sun explodes and takes us with it, and i’m not even sure that’ll be long enough.”

song mingi - moonbeam

“i had a dream about you last night,” mingi hums as you pass him a bowl of popcorn in preparation for your bi-monthly movie marathon. you toss yourself down onto the couch beside him, leaning in close as you grab a fist-full of popcorn and begin to slowly feed yourself. he takes your silence as a gesture for him to continue, popping a piece of the snack between his lips first. “yeah, it started off as a nightmare and then you came along and made it all better.”

you snort at the idea of saving your best friend from whatever demons choose to haunt his nights. you can’t imagine it’s anything too frightening; the big baby gets intimidated by the smallest of things. it really wouldn’t take much for you to be his night in shining armour.

“and how did i make everything better?” your voice is teasing as it comes out, but you genuinely are curious about the answer. you let your gaze meet his, taking no notice of how close his face is to yours. if you thought about it for more than a millisecond, you might have registered the way you can feel his warm breath against your face, or the way his pupils keep flicking between looking you in the eye and looking down at your pink lips.

“you kissed me,” he whispers, and despite your proximity, you barely hear it. “and suddenly everything was okay. all my bad thoughts were gone and it was just… you.”

you look at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say to his confession. of course, it’s a shock to hear something like that from your best friend, but that’s not to say it’s unwelcome. he chuckles lowly at the way you stare at him.

“oh, don’t look at me like that,” he inches even closer, lips barely grazing against your own, “you can’t tell me you can’t see how much i want to love you.”

jung wooyoung - cursed

wooyoung moans into the kiss that you press against his mouth. hot and mouth wateringly delicious, he can’t seem to get enough of the way your lips feel against him. it’s like you’ve laced your lipgloss with cocaine or something because at this point, it’s an addiction, and try as he might, he can’t seem to kick it.

at this point, he isn’t even sure he wants to.

“holy fuck,” he mumbles against you, opening his eyes for just a brief moment so he can take you in in all your glory. puffy wet lips, swollen from all the lust and passion wooyoung had put into the kiss. a pretty pink tongue darts out to lap at the layer of his spit that glazes them, and he feels his brain go foggy. “i think you’ve cast a spell on me or something, baby. it’s the only reasonable explanation for why i’m so fucking obsessed with you.”

his lips find yours once more, tongue intertwining easily with yours. they play with one another for a short while before he lets you take over, relaxing his jaw a little to let you lazily lick into his mouth. something about you taking him up on his offer of control has him groaning into your mouth. you’re so adorable, even when you’re in charge.

“i’ve not done anything,” you whisper against his open mouth, pulling away ever so slightly to catch your breath, “it’s hardly my fault you took one at me and decided to make it your life’s mission to worship me.”

“shut up, brat,” he chuckles against you, chasing your lips with his own, “i wouldn’t feel the need to worship you if you hadn’t laid some sort of curse on me.”

choi jongho - mine forever

“if you never want to see my face again, i’ll understand,” the weak voice warbles from the other side of your door. it hurts to listen to after the fight you had last night, the wounds still fresh and aching. it’s even worse to listen to when you know your boyfriend doesn’t so easily cry, and yet here he is, sobbing on your doorstep. you swallow the lump in your throat, wiping your own tears away in a desperate attempt to pull yourself together. “just please, give me closure so i know how you feel.”

if you weren’t so upset, the situation would’ve probably made you laugh. it had been less than 24 hours since you walked out of his apartment and walked it back to yours, and yet the poor boy was acting like you’d left him with nothing for weeks. even despite the pain that swims through your veins, you can’t help but find his dramatics adorable, and you find a small smile gracing your lips as you finally move to unlock the door.

he looks a state, red, puffy eyes, hair matted and stuck to his forehead, lips chapped and bloody. you want to hold him in your arms, comfort him through his suffering. then you remember he caused this suffering himself, as well as all the pain that resides in your own chest. you fold your arms in front of you.

“you look like shit,” are the first words to leave your lips. he just stares at you blankly.

“i can’t sleep without you,” is all he says in response.

“you mean you haven’t slept since last night?” he shakes his head, and you feel your heart crack just a little. so much for pulling yourself together.

“i can’t live without you, baby,” he whispers as you invite him into your arms, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, “and i’m too young to die.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez headcanons

68 notes · View notes