#and pay more attention to the art you come across

[faetreides]

- # 🍁 THE NEMEAN LION !!

feels so ugly when i’m honest

cw: afab reader, ambiguous era, dubcon coded, insp. by this ask, patrick and reader have noncon somno fantasies about the other (so rlly it’s more cnc), patrick is gross and mean, situationship/roommate!patrick, unprotected p in v sex & relying on the pull out method, weed mention and wine mention, art guest star appearance (patrick mentions him), oral (afab reader receiving), hints of: foot fetish, dacryphilia, cnc in general, plus sized!reader, mythological themes, 3k words of me losing my marbles, one use of daddy, we don’t gotta be in love you knowweeeeee i don’t gotta be the oneeee you knowweeeeeeeeew

You’re making him crazy, Patrick knows it. He shouldn’t spend his mornings humping his pillows that you hold in your lap during movie nights. He definitely shouldn’t be stealing your panties and strangling his cock with the lacey fabric that’s going to end up smelling so foul from how much he’ll use the same pair over and over. He thinks he can catch your scent on his clothes when you’ve never actually been close enough to leave a reminder of you behind. Sometimes Patrick gets so frustrated with continuing at this same snail’s pace that he wishes he could just grab your face and smush it into his musky crotch. He’d let you go if you were about to pass out, maybe. You can’t get shit twisted if you’re unconscious.

He’s telling you another one of his stories, hoping to see a twinge of… something swirling in your irises. You just hum too much and squirm a bit, ever the overactive listener. Patrick would cut off his balls if it meant that he could hear anything resembling a moan from you, not just little signs that you’re listening and not speaking. The transformer movie’s reached a point where you don’t really have to pay attention, so you cutely shuffle your mess of blankets around on the couch so you can give Patrick your undivided attention. He’s had to start keeping space in his closet for the large throw blankets you bring along even though you refuse to let him turn the fan off.

“Yeah, I was with Art actually. We ate each other out back in the day, y’know, to see what it was like. He sat on my face and fuckin’ almost broke my neck, his thighs were gripping me so tight.” He coyly tilts his head to the side, pretending to be shy about the whole thing.

He narrows his eyes and analyzes your reaction. You dart your gaze around the room for a split second, struggling to tamper down the blossoming warmth in your stomach and the insecurity that comes with never being able to catch up with Patrick. You’ve confessed to it a couple times, usually after a couple of bottles of whatever cheap alchohol he’s got on hand. His nails shred into his palms with the effort it takes not to give you something to talk about, even if you think they’re only dreams.

“When was the first time someone ate you out? I can’t be the only one shoving my foot in my mouth here.”

God, what he’d give to have your feet in his mouth, and vice versa.

You play with the fluffy black blanket in your lap, making eye contact with one of the cartoon nutcrackers on it and not Patrick as you answer his question. “Oh… I’ve actually never been eaten out, maybe that’s why no one’s made me cum.”

It’s a like his world has been hit by an unexpected asteroid and blown to smithereens, bits of membrane and curdled dna scattered across the milky way. The gross-ness imbued in his bone marrow leaks out into vaccum of space as he processes this truly fucking suprising piece of information. Never in his life has Patrick been told something that just can’t be true, not when there are still good things in the world. Not when that helpful little tidbit will split him open and take over his every waking and sleeping thought.

He shakes his head, blinking rapidly. “What? What the hell do you mean no one’s ever eaten your pussy?”

“I, I don’t know. The people I've been with have just never gone out of their way to do it and I didn't make a big deal out of it.”

His heart’s breaking in half and you clearly have no idea. Patrick scrambles to sit up and grabs your hands to stop them from fiddling with the blanket anymore. There are a thousand things he wants and needs and just has to say but all he can do in the present moment is keep shaking his head and crowding you against the right arm of his tattered gray couch.

“Then they’re so fucking stupid, I can’t believe you don’t know what it feels like to have a tongue up your cunt.” He states, a firm declaration that has you throwing out a hand on his bicep to ground yourself.

Patrick looks crazed above you, dark hair impossibly soft and pupils steadily expanding outward. You slide your hand up his arm (trying to ignore the muscle there, what it’d be like when they flex as he picks you up by your ass) to place it on his firm chest. You open your mouth, trying to cobble together any kind of response you can think of but your mind is blank. Patrick seizes the opportunity and smahes his mouth against yours, when the clashing of your lips is over there’s more blood than spit. He flicks his tongue out to catch the little drops of blood dripping from your lips, moaning after he swallows each one.

You’re catching your breath, “You… you can’t… just do that.”

He rolls his eyes and grins, “I did. I can hear you through the walls at night you know? Rubbing your pussy on one of my pillows that you think I don't know you stole, crying for me.”

Damn, that’s what you get for making risky decisions while you’re ovulating. You knew you washed it and should’ve snuck in while he was out to throw it on his plaid comforter and act like it never happened. The longer you kept it stuffed between your plush thighs, smothering it in the natural scent of your pussy, the more your shyness grew. It was easier to spend your nights like that then explore the possibility of doing something else with your time, but now you’re just wishing that you hopped on Patrick’s stupidly huge dick while he was passed out and snoring and called it a day.

“I… I’m sorry, okay? You can have it back.” You say and keep the grumpiness out of your tone, having to come to terms with hoarding nothing that smells like him anymore.

“Just shut up and be happy, be good for me.” He punctuates it with a mean squeeze to your face, slowly sliding his hand down to hang around your throat and falling to his knees in front of the couch.

Maybe it’s the cheap white wine, maybe it’s the subpar edible you had earlier, but you throw caution to the wind and sink your fingers into Patrick’s hair. Your breath happily flies out of your lungs when he pushes your knees apart, coaxing your white lace panties off with his teeth. The bright lights from the TV cast a glow around him, and you hate how pretty he looks. Like if Hercules was a modern porn star, muscles rippling and eyes spearing through you as he catapults you to the stars.

The roughness of his fingers feels heavenly as he smooths them down your inner thighs, “Nice and fat pussy, dripping all over the place. Saying hi, right? It’d be rude of me to not say anything back.”

So he does, spitting right on your clit and spreading it all over your pussy. Patrick shuffles closer and takes several big lungfuls, humping the air with every whiff of your artificial body wash combined with your much more attractive musk. He opens his mouth wide and latches onto your soaking folds, flattening his tongue and licking broad stripes up your cunt. He laps up your juices sloppily, almost wagging his tongue wildly in an effort to suck up whatever he can.

There’s a coil forming in the pit of your stomach, winding tighter and tighter with every swipe of Patrick’s wet tongue. Your face flames in embarrassment once again, you don’t really know if you look bad from his point of view but you can’t stop yourself from throwing your head back against the couch and scrunching your face up. He gives your asshole an open mouthed kiss, half to tease you even further and half because he just couldn’t resist. It was glistening and winking at him and everything.

“Fuck! Fuck! That’s so- how are you so good at this?” You mewl, raking through his hair thoroughly like you’re searching for something you lost.

Patrick’s ego grows in size and he smiles as he moves to your clit, hollowing his cheeks and suckling rapidly. He buries his face in your pussy and drinks you down in several gulps, picking up speed when you resign yourself to telltale moans about much you need to cum. He flicks the tip of his tongue against your swollen clit and slows down right when you’re apart to fall over the edge. He actually chuckles into your mound and winks when you glare at him. He cuts off whatever bratty retort you armed yourself with by going back to nearly inhaling your clit without warning.

“Ungh- I really-really fucking hate you, but don’t you dare stop, I’ll kill you.”

Each suck sends pulses shooting up your core, and that scary coil in the depth of your guts tightens blissfully. You squirm, the very definition of a hot mess as you grind against his face. The friction was never enough but you keep corralling his nose into your pubic hair, fruitlessly rutting your hips with no end goal other than the urge to hump whatever’s available. You panic for a second that you’ll suffocate him or he’ll be grossed out by you not shaving, but you shouldn’t underestimate him. If anything, Patrick groans at the heady smell. Getting it straight from the source and fucking the air during his suckling.

His eyes never stray from you. Your agonized face straight out of a renaissance painting, too strung out and burning with pleasure to resemble anything normal. Your thick thighs, jiggling with every move you make, you can’t seem to decide between humping his mouth like a bitch in heat or trying to squeeze his head like a watermelon. Your sounds, wails and cries and moans and whines, he’ll have to record you next time, play it anytime and anywhere in case you misunderstand what this is. The first documentation of how much cum and fluid you can paint him in, whatever color or thickness you’ve got for him. He’ll wring it all out of you eventually, film a home movie series to chronicle every squirting session and the like.

Gun to his head, you taste like those old fashioned butterscotch hard candies. Decadent and sweet, if he could he’d sink his teeth into the slippery supple flesh and pull and rip.

After several rounds of cruel edging, your brain whites out so hard, you can almost form the blurry shapes in your peripheral vision into a red spiked tail and horned wings. Patrick’s ruining you entirely, you know that now, and the movie’s already over but you don’t spare the scrawling credits more than a weary glance. Your soul is probably cartoonishly swimming through the putrid air towards your body, but your sweaty body is shaking too much to receive it. There’s a ringing in your ears as you blink yourself into awareness, Patrick unbuckles his jeans and a blunt pressure stretches your hole out.

“Sorry, ‘m out of condoms, I’ll pull out, baby.” He huffs out, praying to whatever’s listening that he doesn’t just start pummeling your shit.

You feel your stomach bunching up before you see Patrick’s dick disappearing into you. The feeling of being split open on something so thick has you reeling, no one else you’ve been with has left you spiraling quite like this. In a room full of dicks you’d be able to spot his, you’d just have to find the one that has the back of your throat tingling and going dry just from a sniff and a look. You’d cry if he pulled out now, it’s already too late for you. This is such a stupid decision, sloppy rough sex with your roomate-turned-situationship on his worn out couch that’s older than the both of you combined.

It’s one hell of a story, and maybe some moments in life should be allowed to boil down to that. The hand loosely wrapped around your throat tightens its hold, you welcome the thumb pushing into your mouth without prompting. The depravity of it all makes you feel owned, has you seriously considering living your life as some guy’s exclusive pet whore. The ‘squelch’s and the ‘schlick’s that come with his savage thrusts and milk white strings connecting the base of his cock to your puffy pussy.

Every breath you think you’re going to be able to take, he steals from you and mocks your whimpery “unh-unh-unh~”’s in his raspy mid-fuck voice.

“This is the only dick you’ll be hanging off of from now on, got it? Can’t let some lousy jackass try to sew his balls to this pussy when it’s not even gonna cream around him.” You say yes to that hissed demand, yes of course, Daddy.

Patrick plunges his cock to the hilt into your cunt in one sharp stroke, gasping and gripping your hip to distract himself from the way your walls are clenching around his length. Every part of you is greedy apparently, you’re perfect for each other then. The position he has you in is so filthy, he’s standing and hosting your legs up over his shoulders, folding you in half on the couch. His dirty levi’s pool around his feet and the sound of his belt hitting the floor inspires awful thoughts in you. Your sweat mixes together and trickles down your legs, sticking to his leg hair.

You can have it soft once he’s gotten this demon off his back and out of his system, you can ride him while you’re cozied up in bed, lazily rolling your hips until you get tired a couple minutes later and clinging to the caresses on your love handles. Patrick has to destroy something before he can even stand to think about putting it back together, your insides and you yourself are no exception. Your walls feel like the finest quality silk around his throbbing cock, leaking inside of you as he clutches onto your ankles. The TV’s automatically shut off by now, and the lack of background noise enhances his animalistic grunts and deep moans.

“Gonna fuck your tits next time, fuck-what the fuck-you’re too damn tight, massage them for you after, rub your cunt raw-“

Patrick fucks like he’s staking claim on a spoil of war, you’re learning, as if the pale ferryman’s hot on his heels and this sliver of time is the only sacred thing he’ll ever get in his wretched mortal life. All his, gone limp between bloody jaws and killing hands. He snarls in your face as he pounds your pussy, angling his hips to stab deeper in you than should be medically possible. You don’t when you start tearing up, but Patrick does nothing to wipe away your tears, not even lick them up. He just fucks you to the point where you’re crying, shutting his eyes as he throws his head back so you can’t see that he’s crying too. The both of you borrow from different sources of emotion.

“You sounded so scared when you were cumming, made my balls twitch, was cute.” Patrick tells you in between messy kisses, more focused on almost eating your face than properly locking lips with you.

His tongue hangs out of his mouth as he abruptly yanks himself out of you and lavishes your belly in ropes after ropes of cum. You’d reach down to dip a finger in and taste it, but you’re too annoyed at the thought that he’s depriving you of an orgasm again. You haven’t even decided whether you’re going to pout or flatbout get up and leave when Patrick’s sliding home once more. You give him a punched out gasp, sort of pained and kind of relieved, in response. He hisses through his teeth, grinding them together like it’s burning the flesh on his cock to plunge back into your searing pussy. Actively breaking and remaking you. Both of your muscles tense up as the wave threatens to crash over you.

“You can cry some more, if you want, I'd like that a lot. Beg me to save you from what I’m doing to you, to this tight pussy.”

Happy or sad, doesn’t matter. He knows you like it when he keeps you from fighting back, you suit being manhandled and made to take dick better than anyone else he’s slummed it with.

He hunches his back forward to kiss you again, and you claw red stripes down it as your tongue maps out every inch of his mouth. He pulls back and you spend several seconds like that sharing breath. You don’t realize what you’re saying out loud, things like ‘Holy shit you’re so fucking big-so good-it’s so fucking good’ and ‘Feels better than i thought it would, how is that even possible?’ It’s like your own little sex obsessed podcast, centering every episode around how situationship dick is on another level and will irrevocably destroy you. Patrick chuckles, he can’t wait to hold every treasured compliment from you over your head. You could say you’re done with whatever this is when he leaves the toilet seat up again but he’ll never forget you howling for him and his cock to never leave you.

Patrick will swing himself over the net into overstimulation before the next time your pussy’s clamping down on his thick cock and spasming, but he’ll be damned if you’re not gonna end up passed out and drooling while the sun rises. You can spend future movie nights cockwarming him, if you can stand to endure the sickeningly perfect stretch without being allowed to get your cunt beat. You’re mewling when you froth the base of his dick again, your walls pulse around him like you’re a cat laving up your favorite cream. Tonight’s not the night where you’ll be getting it straight from the source, maybe when you’re willing to take certain risks. His smiles are the most genuine when you drag out your whine to follow the speed in which he pulls out to paint your body. Tangy ribbons hanging over your love handles and dripping down to your ass cheeks.

[ktempestbradford]

I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me

It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:

At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.

On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."

Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:

But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:

It gets worse.

"Tempest, how could it possibly--"

source of this video that also includes this charming description:

Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'

There is already a meme.

Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:

Who has already done an interview!

As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!

Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.

The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.

Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!

I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.

Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:

I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.

Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:

Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.

Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.

Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.

I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.

This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.

Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:

With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"

"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:

There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.

The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.

Even better, this weirdly grainy image?

From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.

If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.

As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.

And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...

This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.

Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.

As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...

Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.

You cannot make this stuff up.

But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.

Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.

HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Two - Empty drawing rooms

♡♡♡

Your mother does not keep her thoughts to herself about what dancing with Benedict Bridgerton may have done for you. All evening, even after you are home, she continues on and on about the thought of having callers come morning.

You sleep easy that night. You do not think one dance with a man, you will be unlikely ever to cross paths again with, will affect your prospects all that much.

You're woken by the violent pulling of your curtains. Light floods into your room and cascades across your bed. You sigh softly as you force your eyes open and push yourself up into a sitting position.

"Get up! We must get you dressed and ready!" Your mother eagerly exclaims.

You're forced from your bed and urged into the tub. You're scrubbed raw from head to toe. Your hair is brushed surely a hundred times. You dress, and your mother chooses a necklace to compliment your gown.

Before you know it, you're sitting in the drawing room with her. Your mother has tea and biscuits made.

The drawing room is quiet.

Occasionally, a carriage is heard passing the house. Sometimes you hear the footsteps of staff coming and going outside the door. Not a single sound of knocking is heard.

Your mother becomes restless as the hours pass. "I was certain Mr Bridgerton dancing with you would garner some attention."

"Mother, it was one dance. Anyway, people had their eyes on his sister. No one was looking at us. He barely spoke to me." You tell her, picking up a book you had placed on the table earlier that morning.

"Still, that family is well known and wealthy too. People should always be watching those lf well breeding." She sighs.

You dare not comment further and focus on your book. You've read two chapters before your mother calls it quits and leaves. You close the book and sigh again.

♡♡♡

Daphne Bridgerton had received no callers. The fault did not lie with her for she was perfect in every way. The fault lay with her eldest brother.

Anthony had a habit of scaring everyone off. He had every excuse under the sun as to why no one was suitable for his sister. While his mother wished love for her children I their marriages, Anthony saw more as finding someone merely suitable.

Daphne was disappointed at her lack of visitors. Each day that passed without a caller, her spirit began to dwindle.

She received only one caller. Lord Berbrooke. He was the last person she had hoped to see.

While Violet had been quite busy keeping her daughter company during the passing days, she still found time to corner Benedict.

Colin was paying a visit to the Featherington family to call upon Miss Thompson. Benedict was not calling upon anyone, and Violet hoped the young lady he had danced with could have been an option.

"Benedict."

The second eldest son jumped out of his skin at the sudden appearance of his mother in the doorway.

"Mother."

Benedict had spent most of the day sketching in his book. He loved drawing, painting, and doodling. Art was his passion. He hoped one day to be good enough to have his work up in galleries.

"Have you paid any visits yet?" Violet asks, pretending to be interested in the decor of the room as she comes closer to where her son lounges.

Benedict stills his hand and glances up at her. "I have not."

Violet looks disappointed. "What about that lovely young lady you danced with?"

"Hm? Oh. I don't even remember her name."

That was a lie. He did remember your name. He just didn't want give his mother false hope. Benedict had no intention of seeking out a wife right now.

"Benedict," she sighs. "I do wish you would try."

"How is Daphne doing?" He asks, immediately shooting down any chance of his mother's interrogation.

"Not so well. Anthony is riding with her in the park. Your brother is... making things quite difficult." Violet feels for her daughter. She juat wants Daphne to be happy. She wants all her children to be happy.

"Yes. Anthony can be overbearing." Benedict resumes his sketch.

Violet knew she would get nothing else out of her son and left quietly. Benedict stopped sketching when she left the room and glanced at the door. He sighs softly to himself.

One day, yes, he'll find a wife. Just not yet.

♡♡♡

Lady Whistledown had made several comments about Daphne Bridgerton's lack of callers. You could only wonder how she was feeling at this time.

Every morning, your mother brought you into the drawing room, and you would wait several hours, but no one came to see you.

While your mother moaned about how the gentlemen lf the ton didn't have an eye at all, she particularly felt disappointed about the fact Benedict Bridgerton himself didn't even come to call. You had told her many times over the last week that the dance wasn't really anything.

He simply used you as an opportunity to avoid his mother, and you knew it.

Deciding to push every Bridgerton from your mind, you decided to focus on yourself. Another ball would mean another chance. There would be plenty of people to dance with there. You shall make sure to introduce yourself, unlike last time.

The opera. That came first. You were attending with your mother. As you were making your way toward your seats, you caught sight of Violet Bridgerton with her daughter Daphne. You didn't have to look far to spot Anthony and Benedict.

Your mind shifts slightly to the moment when you had bumped into the eldest son. The weight of his body colliding with yours, almost sending to the ground. However, his warm hands were quick to steady you.

You shake him from your mind as you find your seat.

Benedict had been speaking his brother when he caught sight of something in the corner of his eye. He looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of you sitting down. He turns his attention back to his brother.

If his mother caught him, he would never hear the end of it. Even if there was nothing to discuss. You were a perfect stranger to him.

You spend the whole show with your eyes on the stage. When it's over, you rise with your mother and exit into the lobby. Your mother gets caught up in conversation with some of the other mama's, and you find yourself waiting by the door alone. Your eyes scan the crowds of people heading home for the evening.

Benedict is walking with his brother when he spots you by the door. He can't help thinking you look a little cold standing there. The door was open to allow people to leave with ease.

"Hello again." He finds himself stopping I front of you. Anthony either doesn't notice or doesn't care that he is no longer being followed by his brother.

You turn your head and find yourself staring at the second Bridgerton.

"Hello."

Silence settles between you as he stands there and looks at you. You're once again faced with a slightly awkward pause as you have no idea what to say to him. Last time, he was distracted by keeping his mother at bay. This time, it seems he simply has no idea what to say to you either.

"Are you well?" He asks.

You are almost startled by the sound of his voice, half expecting him to just leave after a while.

"Yes. Quite well, thank you."

Benedict takes note of how you pull your shawl around you tighter. The breeze from the door is clearly bothering you.

"Are you waiting for someone?" He asks.

"My Mama. She is busy gossiping, I assume." You move your gaze over to where she stands, talking to a little group of other mothers.

Benedict glances that way and chuckles slightly. "Ah. Why don't you wait over on that bench? You'll be warmer there." He gestures to the velvet cushioned seat behind you. You find yourself drifting that way with him.

"I believe your brother has departed." You say, sitting down. Benedict takes a seat too.

"Yes. Though Mother and Daphne are still here, I shall return with them." He looks over to where his mother speaks with Lady Danbury.

Soon enough, his attention is back on you, though. "Did you enjoy the ball the other night?" He asks.

You look at him. "It was alright. The first one is always strange."

"Yes. I suppose it can be. Lots of new faces."

You understood that he was possibly referring to the fact that neither of you had seen each other before, despite your knowing of his family.

"Yes."

"How many names did you get on your card?"

"Just one," you confess. It was true that his name was the only one. You danced with no other that night, for no one spared you a glance. Not that you planned on telling him that.

"I was the only one?"

You turn toward the lobby to avoid his gaze. Benedict understands enough. He is surprised by this information.

"I do not recall you being there the day the debutantes were presented to the Queen." He tries changing the topic. He wants to know you a bit better.

"I wasn't in London. I arrived the day after."

He looks at you quietly for a moment. There is something so calming about your presence.

"How is your sister doing?" You ask, spotting Daphne trying to avoid a certain lord.

"She has only had one caller so far." Benedict points out.

"Oh. Surprising. I was sure she would be swarmed with suitors." You glance back toward her. She looks a little down.

"She'll be fine, I'm sure." Benedict turns back to you. "I'm sorry about the ball. I wasn't a very good partner. Too distracted."

You return your attention back to him. "Yes. I was aware."

"Perhaps I can make it up to you at the next one?" He asks.

"It's alright. You don't need to." You offer him a smile.

"Nonsense. I'm a gentleman." He smiles back.

Before either of you can say any more, Violet comes over with Daphne in tow. You both look up to see the Dowager Viscountess smiling at you both.

"Benedict, we are leaving." She speaks softly.

Benedict glances at you and then stands slowly. He offers you his hand. You take it and stand with him.

"Mother. Daphne." He nods.

"Who is this?" Violet asks, looking at you. She gives off a warm and calming aura. Yet, she looks quite excitable right about now.

Benedict speaks your name. "I was keeping the young lady company while she waited for her mother."

Violet hadn't once taken her eyes off of you. Daphne looked up at her brother, who just shook his head at her. He knew what they were thinking. He was going to hear about this all night now.

"You must come to dinner," Violet insists.

You all look at her.

"Mofher." Benedict sighs.

Daphne smiles and steps forward. "Really, you must."

You look at Daphne and feel comfort. Perhaps she is looking for a friend too.

"Name the day," you say, turning to Violet.

Benedict looks at his mother with faux disdain. He knows what game she is playing. His mother was not subtle in her matchmaking attempts.

"Splended. I shall send an invite very soon."

Much to the ignorance of her children, she had already made plans with Lady Danbury to invite the Duke for dinner so he may get to know Daphne. They would make a handsome couple, she thinks. Why not offer the same opportunity to her son and his new friend?

Violet was so looking forward to this.

Benedict bids you goodnight and offers Daphne his arm. She takes it and bids you farewell too. Violet smiles at you and takes her leave, following her children outside.

Only then does your mother come over. "What was that just now?" She asks. The same light in her eyes had been in Violet's.

"Nothing, Mama."

She doesn't believe you. She traps your arm with hers and guides you out to the carriages.

"That Bridgerton boy, he was the one who danced with you at the ball, yes?" She smiles.

"Benedict Bridgerton. Yes."

"Perhaps you have an admirer!" She says with glee.

"Not st all, mother. He was merely being polite."

She brushes off your words and continues to go down a spiral of why he is taken with you and will wish to court you soon. You sense no such feelings from the man. There is no reason one cannot become acquainted with others without feelings being involved.

You would accept the dinner invitation purely out of curious interest of his family. The Bridgerton's certainly seem like interesting people to know.

♡♡♡

Benedict is sketching in his room when his mother comes in. They had been home merely an hour after the opera. She clutches a letter in her hand as she comes over to him.

"How does this sound?" She holds out the letter to him. Benedict sighs and takes it, skimming the words.

Its addressed to you.

'You are invited to our home this Friday evening for dinner. Be here for 6 and stay as long as you like.

Lady V.Bridgerton.'

"Sounds fine." He hands the letter back. Benedict returns to his sketch.

Violet looks at him. "She's a find lady."

"Hm." Benedict pays her little mind.

Violet looks defeated. It would seem Benedict really has no interest in you. Still, she would welcome you into her home for the evening.

When she leaves, Benedict looks up again. He stares at the door.

He simply has no interest in courting. Not yet.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertons - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived -

[highvern]

Patterns I

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: smut (21+), eventual fluff/angst

Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?

Chapter Warnings: fuckboy(ish) wonwoo, friends(?) with benefits, multiple sex scenes, oral (f. & m. receiving), choking, face fucking, penetrative sex

Length: ~10k

Note: woooohoooo part 1 done. let me know what you guys think! thank you @gyuswhore for being my beta and talking me down from a complete meltdown lmao

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

“And if you look at this chart, you can see profit margins over the past three quarters have steadily increased…”

Mona drones on and on. You try to listen and nod along but there’s only so much enthusiasm that can be faked for a last minute afternoon meeting on a Friday. Maybe if she was saying anything with an ounce of meaning you’d pay attention. But the numbers she spout off on record profits only confirm what the company who hired your team already knows: if they give their employees more work for less pay, they’ll make more money.

The vibration of your phone wakes you up. Peering into your lap under the table, you see your roommate’s name flash across the screen.

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: ruby’s tonight Y/N: Do I have a choice?

You don’t even lock your phone before she responds.

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: nope!

“Y/N, do you mind sharing the latest reports?” 

Head jerking up, you meet Mona’s gaze across the room. She flashes a tight smile, clearly having caught your moment of distraction. Lucky for you, you could recite the reports in your sleep.

You smile and say all the right things; make all the right jokes. Just enough personality they feel special but not so much they feel like you’re a real human being outside of your job.

“All right. I think we’ve covered everything.” Mona claps. “Edgar and I will be on call this weekend if anything comes up.”

Shuffling out with the rest of your coworkers, you beeline back to your desk. 

Mona breezes by, slamming the door to her office shut.

“Do you think Mona has eyes in the back of her head?” Edgar asks, peeking over the wall dividing your cubicles.

Without looking away from the email crowding your screen you quip, “No, but I hear she sleeps in a coffin.”

“Huh. I thought that was just the hottest office furniture tread for execs.”

You snort in response. 

Mona was a hard ass but she was good at her job. 

“Anyway, any plans this weekend?”

“Get drunk and watch Love Island.”

Edgar gasps, hand to his chest like a scandalized debutant. “You wild woman.”

The next two hours crawl by. Not even the usual side projects keep you entertained, giving you time to research the new art installation downtown Lisa mentioned visiting. 

Hopefully buying tickets as her early birthday present will get you off the hook for tonight.

In true Lisa fashion, a surprise gift means celebration. And the best place to celebrate is Ruby’s.

Smoke chokes the air, bodies upon bodies packed into the space of the dingy bar on a Friday night. The chill of the outside stops at the threshold of the door, sweltering heat greeting you and your friends as you join the crows eager to celebrate the weekend.

It’s almost too dark to see faces but Mingyu’s head of dark hair stands above the rest from his perch in the corner. Lisa’s hand finds yours, and your other hand find’s Amina as you shoulder towards the table he’s claimed for the night. The bass of whatever remix blaring through the DJ’s speakers thrums through the crush of drunk patrons like a frantic heartbeat, rattling your bones with each step deeper into the space.

The glossy surface of the table is already littered with cups and beer bottles. Mingyu cuts his conversation with Wonwoo short to greet your group, smiling over Lisa’s head already buried in his chest. Wonwoo's only acknowledgement is a short nod over the top of the bottle he lifts to his lips. 

A pair of not so sly eyes wander down your front, tracing across the deep v of your top, baring your sternum between the swell of your breasts. You burn under Wonwoo’s blatant gawking, breath stalled and face hot but none of your friends appear to notice the electricity crackling between you two, intoxicated brains filling with lewd ideas. 

Needing a reprieve, you slither to the bar in search of a drink. Slipping between the sweaty bodies as they part, Amina follows close behind. A few shots and a beer later, you stumble towards the dance floor with laughter on your lips and the bitter singe of alcohol on your tongue.

The crowd of strangers accepts you, swallowing you into the churning chaos immediately. A few familiar faces stand out in the crowd as you shift through the sway.

Looking over the shoulder of the random person in front of you, a mess of limbs better known as Lisa and Mingyu flashes into view; Soonyoung and Eva no better next to them. Over their embrace, you spot Amina dancing with a pretty stranger of her own, both of them with drunk smiles plastered on their faces. 

Head dizzily bobbing to the music, your eyes slip shut. You know it's Wonwoo at your back, hips following closely, one hand around your waist and the other dragging a path of fire across your thigh. 

This wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in this particular position. Since your roommates started dating, and whenever alcohol was close enough to serve as a believable excuse, you managed to find each other like super charged magnets; gluing together and drowning heady touches.

It wasn’t like anything more happened. That was the excuse you told yourself after the first time. A girls night out Mingyu and Wonwoo happened to stumble upon. You’d still been upset about the breakup with Seungcheol two months prior, indulging in the shitty white wine that only served to fuel your boldness.

You’d never admit seeking out Wonwoo with the knowledge Seungcheol couldn’t stand him; taking sick satisfaction in imagining the look on Seungcheol’s face as you let Wonwoo touch the way previously reserved for him. You pressed against Wonwoo’s front with little care for who saw; a challenging gleam in your glassy eyes, daring him to push away. Not one to be bested, Wonwoo pressed back, and the rest is history.

After the first night of the new game, you went home and came embarrassingly fast to the fantasy of what would have inevitably happened if he’d followed. The week after consisted of staunchly avoiding Wonwoo. Guilt and disgust plagued every waking moment, and if you had to look at him you knew you’d feel worse. 

Your only real connection was your roommate Lisa dating his roommate Mingyu which meant your evasiveness went undetected for nearly a month before Wonwoo managed to corner you at a party and demand to know what your “fucking problem” was. It was then you realized he either didn’t remember what happened or didn’t think it was anything to make such a big deal about. You never asked for specifics but came to the conclusion: If he didn’t care, then why should you? It was just a bit of fun. A game of chicken neither intended to end. 

Each time you came across each other on the weekends after, the stakes increased. One night, you let wandering hands catalog the planes hard muscle hidden underneath the fabric of his shirt. The next, you followed a trail of goosebumps across his neck with tongue and teeth. 

And Wonwoo called your bluff everytime. His thumb tracing against the underside of your breast while delivering a particularly harsh grind of his hips, leaving very little to the imagination of what hid behind the zipper of his jeans. Or when he spun you around, hypnotizing you with his eyes while pawing your ass, dragging your core across his thigh wedged between your legs.

But whatever transpired fizzled away by the time the night ended, both of you content to go separate ways and ignore whatever was left on the dance floor (or occasionally a wall). Tonight would be no different. It never was. It never would be.

Wonwoo was fun to play with but that's all. Throw him flirty smiles, indulge in the bold touches, take a thrill in the chase and then retreat to the safety of the bar or drag one of your friends to the bathroom for a break. He let go without any argument; something you found disappointing much to your own chagrin. But Wonwoo’s eyes never left your figure the second it left his arms. Even if he found a new partner, he would watch you while he did everything he had already done and then all the things he would have done if you stayed.

“Come home with me,” he whispers in your ear, more of a command than a question, breaking the delicate silence surrounding your unspoken attraction.

The air in your chest thickens to a sludge. For a second, you think you misheard him, possibly hallucinating that he’s spoken at all. With the thrum of music and shouts it’s not out of the question.

Unable to turn in his tight grip, you settle for leaning back against his shoulder, neck stretching, giving him a direct view down your top, his eyes privy to the fact that you hadn’t worn a bra. His chest plastered against your back heaves with a heavy breath as you continue to move against him. 

Wonwoo tries again, his hand squeezing your waist gently, pulling you closer to his body to feel the evidence of his arousal. “Come home with me.” 

It's just the next level to the game, you think. The fantasy is tempting; taking you back to his apartment, spreading you out across his bed and making good on all the promises he’s teased into your skin for months.

If he wants to play, you’ll play too.

“What’s in it for me?” you hum, lips brushing his ear in a mimic of his motion moments ago. 

Wonwoo responds with another curl of his hips against your ass.

God, he’s good at this. Wonwoo is the only guy to spark any kind of interest since Seungcheol left months ago. Not for lack of trying but they were either too tall, too short, weird hair, awful laugh. The list of excuses goes on and on. Subconsciously, you’d been comparing them all to the man behind you and found each of them lacking. But if Wonwoo wants to progress to the next level, he’ll need to work for it.

“Not convincing enough,” you chide.

The hand on your thigh pauses, taking a second to squeeze the supple flesh before setting a new course. Wonwoo moves slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop his advance if you wish. Not sensing an objection, he pushes forward. Even over the thick denim of your jeans, Wonwoo’s palm scorches against the zipper. Continuing lower, he grinds the heel of his palm against your clothed pussy, nothing more than mockery of the real thing but it has you shuddering all the same. The slope of your shoulder stings under his mouth, licking waves of fire across the nerves with each nip of his teeth. 

Wonwoo pants against the shell of your ear on the next rock of his hand, laughing as your nails dig into his wrist before he whispers, “Unless you want our friends to watch, trust me.” 

You need to see his face; need to look in Wonwoo’s eyes and find out if he’s trying to rile you up or if he’s serious.

This time when you move, Wonwoo allows you to turn in his hold. The look in his eyes tells you he would take you right here if he thought for a second you’d let him. He isn’t trying to just get a rise out of you and see you squirm. Wonwoo isn’t playing a game anymore. 

He wants you.

You nod once and Wonwoo has you both out the door and on the way to his place before the song ends.

The cold metal of the door bites into your skin, bowing your chest straight into Wonwoo’s as he crowds against you, arms caging you in on both sides. His lips are busy surveying the skin of your neck, sucking and nipping until he pauses at the hollow of your throat. His teeth raze against the sensitive skin, tongue darting out to lave against the marks he’s determined to leave. Wonwoo listens closely to the sounds leaving your throat, focusing his ministrations whenever an exceptionally satisfied purr slips out.

He takes a step forward at the feel of your hand pushing its way into his jacket, rewarding the tease of your fingers across his stomach with a suck against your jaw. The sharp pain of your nails across his scalp forces a quiet groan out his lips; something you file away for later. 

“Get us inside before your neighbors catch us with my hand down your pants,” you gasp, giving his hair a particularly harsh yank to pull him away from your breasts peeking out from the low cut of your top.

“Wouldn’t mind that,” he mumbles, diving back. 

But Wonwoo concedes, grabbing his keys from his pocket while remaining focused on leaving his mark on your sternum. 

Despite your request, you do everything but make it easier for him; thumb dipping into the waistband of his boxers before slipping inside, cupping the straining bulge confined under the tight fabric. Wonwoo falters under your attention, pressing his hips into you until you're crushed between his body and the door. When Wonwoo finally fumbles the key into the lock, the door flies open under your combined weight.

Using the momentum, Wonwoo crowds you back to the wall just inside, slamming the door shut with his foot, returning where he left off without missing a beat. A hand tilts your chin back to give him more room, and you realize he hasn’t kissed you yet. Twisting the front of his shirt, you resolve to change that.

Pulling back, Wonwoo’s brows arching in confusion, mouth falling opening to complain at being interrupted again but snapping shut when you attempt to pull him forward. 

But a hair's breadth away Wonwoo stops.

“What do you want?”

You won’t beg. If anyone is cracking first it’ll be Wonwoo. Just like he did at the bar not too long ago. 

“If you won’t tell me then I can’t give it to you.” He moves forward, nose tracing along your throat, breath fanning across your neck. One of his arms moves to the space between your body and the wall, pulling until his thigh is bracketed by yours. The hard muscle is nothing short heaven against the seam of your jeans, invoking a traitorous whimper from your throat.

You manage a chaste kiss against the side of his mouth before he darts out of range. 

“Tell me and you can have it,”  Wonwoo says, cocking his head back, looking down his nose at you from behind the wire frames of his glasses; pupils blown. His eyes close and he leans forward again before continuing, “Tell me what you want, and you can have everything.”

His teeth trail across the shell of your ear on the last word and suddenly it's all too much. The rasp of his voice, the flex of his thigh, the layers of clothing separating your bodies. If you don’t get relief soon you’ll both implode.

“Kiss me.”

You feel Wonwoo’s satisfied smile a second before your lips meet, lighting the fuse for what's to come. There’s no gentleness in the connection, instead, months of insatiable need leads the way. Parting your lips, you suck his own between your teeth until it's swollen in retaliation. Wonwoo angles your head back with a gentle tug of your hair, immediately swallowing your gasp at his roughness. The hand wrapped around the middle of your back flexes, urging, no, begging you to grind against him. You oblige with embarrassing eagerness.

Your hand finds its way down Wonwoo’s front again, fingers firm and demanding. Tracing the zipper of his jeans up and down in time with your movement against his leg, the heel of your hand presses forward, causing his hips to cant up against the pressure. The motion is a mock of what he was doing in the crowded bar minutes ago. Just enough to rile him up and to piss him off until his hands drop and squeeze your ass so hard it hurts.

Refusing to let your mouths part, Wonwoo drags you down the hallway towards his room. It takes longer than it should, both of you stopping to force the other into the wall, bodies writhing against one another in search of friction and pleasure. At one point you consider letting him fuck you right their on the floor but he pushes through the door to his room just before you can unzip his pants.

Finally inside, Wonwoo herds you towards the bed in the corner. The back of your knees hit the side, bending as you land with a soft bounce. Wonwoo follows swiftly, settling himself on his elbows before diving back into your neck again. His hips slot into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing forward to search for the heat he knows is there. You greedily return the movement, hips curling up, savoring the drag of his hard cock. Wonwoo sucks another bruise onto your neck, high enough you’ll have to hide it in the morning but you're so drunk on the idea of what is going to happen next you can’t even feign outrage. 

The strap of your flimsy top falls down and Wonwoo moves to explore the new span of skin. His lips drag over the uncovered swell of your breast, sloppy kisses trailing over the silky skin. Cocking his head to the side, he sucks a nipple through the thin black fabric. Your hips buck, back arching at the new sensation. The angle of Wonwoo’s cock is just right, pulling moan after moan from your throat. He’s so focused on what he’s doing he can’t be bothered to snicker at how he turns you into an aching puddle of want.

Clothes come off in a blur. You watch his abs flex as he rips his shirt over his head, eyes tracing the dark thatch of hair disappearing under the waistband of his pants. Soon, yours is gone too, lost on the floor. Wonwoo's eyes delight in the sight of you bare before him, with nipples puckered and breasts heavy with excitement. He ducks back down, mouthing at the sensitive bud, drowning in your breathy whines and whimpers. Using his hand, his calloused thumb massages the one his mouth had abandoned, pinching and flicking until you’re left raw and aching.

“Wonwoo,” you cry, hands ripping at the sheets when his teeth come out to play. 

He pulls back from your breasts, in a frenzy to remove your pants while his knees fall to the ground on the side of the bed. You arch up to help him rip the damning fabric away. An ember of fury sparks, furious with yourself for wearing jeans over the skimpy skirt Lisa had offered.

None the wiser, Wonwoo looks between your legs like he’s found an oasis in a desert. You realize too late they’re nothing impressive. Pale pink cotton; simple, practical. Just like your pants, since getting fucked tonight wasn’t even a remote possibility when you left your apartment. 

But Wonwoo doesn’t even seem to care. When you dare to look at his face, worried by the sudden pause in his actions, you find he’s not even blinking. His thumb finds your entrance through the fabric, shallowly dipping inside before moving back and massaging teasing circles over the damp spot.

Pride and ego long forgotten, you beg. “Wonwoo, please.” 

Wonwoo doesn’t give in. Focusing on the curve of your thigh, nose etching along the strained muscle while he continues teasing touches over your underwear. The wet of his tongue comes out when he reaches the hem of your underwear. So close to where you want him but not close enough.

“Please.”

The pathetic crack of your voice is rewarded with firmer fingers and his lips against the sticky crotch of your panties; the heat of his mouth right over your entrance as he laps at your release.

Another beg and he moves aside the thin strip of fabric, curling his tongue into your entrance before sucking at your swollen clit. 

The relief is short lived. Somehow, Wonwoo knows exactly how to touch and tease you, driving you up the wall only to pull you back down. One hand finds your knee, forcing it away when you try to crush his head between your thighs at the first prod of his long fingers inside you.

He slips another finger inside, his tongue continuing to swipe at your bundle of nerves, just as desperate to give you what you want as you are to receive it. Glancing down at him again, you find a scene worthy of being immortalized in a painting. His brow is furrowed in concentration, eyes pinched tight while he works to get you off. 

A pause to take a breath is all the reprieve you’re granted before Wonwoo dives back in, moaning under the sting of your nails on his scalp; encouraging you to hold him there and use him, to come for him. The symphony of your combined noises floods the room. The squelch of his fingers, rubbing up against the place that drives you mad. The wet noises of his mouth, your arousal mixing with his spit; his noises when you pull at his hair, vibrating against your cunt and pulling your spine into a harsh curve. 

You can’t help but watch him. Enamoured with how right he looks between your legs, skin slips together where his shoulders hold your legs up. Even the contrast of his hand on your knee fuels the fire.

He peers up at you when you call his name again. Eyes burning into your own. Like he can read your mind. Like he agrees this is the best place for him to be.

You hear yourself far away, chanting his name as you shatter into a million pieces. Clenching around Wonwoo’s fingers with a strength you didn't know you possessed, your hips ride them until your muscles lock and jerk. The smear of fluid across your thighs, slipping your ass and onto the bed is lewd. 

But Wonwoo doesn’t stop, working you through it like his own release is on the line. Licking and sucking and fucking you with his fingers until you finally manage to pull him away with a choked cry of his name. Even then, his hand continues pistoning into you as your mouths find one another hungrily. 

There's a sick satisfaction in your gut at the taste on his mouth. Your arousal coats his chin, his cheeks, even the tip of his nose is wet where it digs into your face as you suck his tongue.

Moving to his feet, Wonwoo bends over you, lips never straying from yours. He fails to crowd you down into the mattress like he intends. Freezing when your hands pushing his pants down the rest of the way. His cock bobs, the nearly purple head leaking. If there was any doubt he didn’t find pleasure going down on you before, the evidence of his enjoyment sits hard and heavy in your palm. An exploratory squeeze has Wonwoo’s chin dropping to his chest, a sharp breath leaving his nose.

Sliding off the bed and to your knees, you peek up at him through your lashes, letting the tip rest against parted lips. When Wonwoo drags his head back up, looking down his nose, your tongue darts out to catch some of his pre-cum, receiving another groan in response. A thought that has you blushing rears its head. 

He’ll probably like it, you think.

You let one of her hands trail down while kissing across the velvety shaft his length. Wonwoo watches closely, eyes widening for a second when you find the apex of your thighs, dipping down to collect the lingering slickness. Once satisfied, you exchange your grip on his cock and quirk an eyebrow. Stroking him coyly.

You don’t look away from his eyes even though every instinct tells you to hide from the heat in his gaze. Your palm catches at the tip, thumb brushing his leaking slit. More evidence of his arousal trickles out and you lap it up quickly.

“Shit,” Wonwoo hisses. “Fuck, you’re so good.” 

One of Wonwoo’s hands finds your cheek, helping you find a comfortable pace. Settling the back of your head against the bed, drag him forward by his ass, content to let him use your mouth the way you used his. Wonwoo stumbles for a second at the sudden movement, hands finding the bed to prevent himself from collapsing. He peers down in question. 

“Want you to fuck my mouth,” you pant, quickly taking him back in, going as deep as possible without gagging.

“Fuuuuck,” Wonwoo rasps, moving the hand on the side of your face to the back of your head. He pins you in place with his hips, giving a shallow, almost hesitant thrust as he discovers your limits.

You zone out when he finds a rhythm, hand at the base of his cock to keep him from bottoming out in your throat, the one cradling his balls dropping to trace the inside of his thigh. Eventually, Wonwoo lets himself go, savoring the pressure of your tongue when you lap against the tip as he pulls out. His abs twitch at the sight of drool leaking from the corners of your stuffed mouth, lips stretched and bruised around his cock. 

Opening your eyes, you look right at him; punching the air from his chest as you moan around his cock, the vibration forcing his head back, neck bared again as a bead of sweat settles in the hollow of his throat.

“Touch yourself,” Wonwoo commands, breaking the melody of whimpers and groans.

You disregard his command, content with focusing on untying him from his loose tether to sanity.

Not one to be ignored, Wonwoo pulls away on the next stroke. You follow, attempting to trail forward and suck him back down your throat but Wonwoo’s hand knots in your hair. He yanks your head back until his cock is just out of range. Looking up at him, you do nothing to hide the annoyance at such a sudden disruption.

“Touch. Yourself. ” he lets out tightly, enunciating each syllable. Equally annoyed but willing to make a point. 

“Wanna watch me?” you goad, smug as the tips of his ears redden. 

Instead of brushing it off, Wonwoo takes the bait.

“Yeah I do,” he says, one hand leaving your hair, guiding the tip of his cock across the seam of your lips, letting out a humorless laugh when your tongue reaches out to meet it on instinct. “Wanna watch while you suck my cock because you’re a good girl.” 

He lets you take the head, teeth grinding under the dig of your tongue into the slit. But any attempt to take more is punished with another tug of your hair. Until his hand circles your throat and he pulls you off completely. 

“Right, Y/N?”

The praise goes straight to your head, breath stunted. You barely nod before Wonwoo moves his hips forward again, slowly resuming their previous rhythm at the promise of seeing you put on a show. Two fingers slip in with ease, disappointment bubbling when the stretch doesn’t come anywhere close to his but you’ll play along for now if it means getting to feel his cum on your tongue.

Wet, messy noises echo in the room. You hollow your cheeks, hand acting as a bumper while letting his cock kiss the back of your throat. Wonwoo’s hips stutter when you swallow around him. The tension in his muscles doubles your effort, set on the satisfaction of making him cum from just your mouth. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Wonwoo hisses, pulling you off.

Wonwoo hauls you up into the bed, aggressively crowding you towards the pillows. The cool sheets sting against your back, but you focus on getting another fist around his cock. Wonwoo intercepts your plans before you can make it below his navel. He pins the offending appendage next to your head; grip loose enough you could break if you wanted, but the tease of his dominance turns you on even more and it's not long before he has both hands above your head, and a disapproving look on his face.

“If you don’t want me to come on your thigh, I suggest keeping your hands to yourself,” he states, leaning towards the bedside table, searching for a condom.

“Didn’t think you’d be that easy,” you bite back. Planting your feet on the bed, your hips grind up into his. 

“Says the woman who begged for my cock,” Wonwoo grinds out, flattening his chest into yours, teasing with exactly what you asked for.

You're suddenly hit by how much stronger Wonwoo is than you. Able to have your entire body pinned like it’s nothing while working the condom on at the same time. You knew he worked out, broad shoulders and narrow waist giving him away; but having that strength used you sends a swirl of butterflies through your stomach.

Wonwoo resorts to ripping open the packet with his teeth, hips easing up to quickly roll it down his length. He rubs himself through your folds, collecting the wetness and repeatedly tapping himself to your clit. You’re about to flip him around and take matters into your own hands when he catches on your entrance and presses home in a slow thrust.

He slides deep. Deeper than Seungcheol, deeper than anyone you’ve ever been with. You barely get a chance to savor it before he’s moving, wasting no time before working up a pace meant to drive you both mad. 

“Shit,” you curse.

Wonwoo huffs into your neck, tongue tracing the shell of your ear. “Yeah? Feel good?”

“Soooo good.” 

Wonwoo lets go of your hands, tangling one the sheets, the other searching for the top of the metal headboard. The change in position folds you in half, giving him the leverage to fuck as deep as possible. Finding your hands free, one claws at his back, leaving bright red lines in its wake. The other grabs for his ass, squeezing the muscle there, helping him press forward. His balls clapping against the swell of your ass drives you closer to hysteria. 

Your second orgasm rushes forward, resting on his lips finding yours. The connection is bruising, all teeth and tongues. The hand on his ass falls to play with yourself and Wonwoo breaks away to watch.

“Like that, Y/N?” Wonwoo bites, whispering right into your ear. “Fuck, you're so tight, baby.”

His words only add to the inferno. The need to come overwhelms you, demanding satisfaction to the point it hurts. But you need more. Needs something you can’t name and only Wonwoo can give. 

Frustration twists your features, eyebrows furrowed and mouth tense. Almost as if he senses your oncoming tantrum, Wonwoo drops more of his weight, pressing you into the mattress and filling you to the brink.

 “Be a good girl,” Wonwoo coos, hip punctuating each word while his teeth tug at your earlobe. “Come for me.”

His permission is the key. Bombs explode behind your eyelids, cascading colors against the black and white. Loud moans rush from your throat to fill his room, muscles locked, body convulsing with endorphins. You want to kiss him again, until you can’t breathe, until you stop needing oxygen and adapt to survive on the taste of his mouth. 

Wonwoo must feel the same, meeting you in a lazy kiss, too fucked out to put in more effort. He swallows every whimper, the syllables of his name while he fucks you through your high. The wetness smeared between your bodies echoes all the motions, his pistoning hips driving more and more from your worn cunt. 

His own high rushes for him at light speed. Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours. You burn the last bit of energy you possess to open your eyes and find his. Wonwoo’s face is tight as a thin sheen of sweat covers his body. All you want now is to see him cum, give him as much pleasure as he’s given you. Reaching up, your lips brush his ear one last time.

“Wanna feel you come,” you sigh. “Please, Woo.”

The responding groan signals success. His hips stutter forward, a deep grunt bursts from his chest. If you weren’t exhausted, you’d demand to go again; to fuck him again and again just to see the twitch of his lips as he empties himself into you, the grind of his teeth, and shudder of his chest. But Wonwoo gives one more hard drive of his hips before collapsing, completely spent.

You don't know how long you stay like that, drifting in and out of consciousness as sweat dries, and your thighs becoming uncomfortably sticky. When Wonwoo moves to pull out, a surprising whine rips from your throat. 

“Shower?” he asks, husky voice breaking the lingering silence.

You finally crack an eye open at Wonwoo’s voice, and find him looking at you with soft eyes. Uh oh. Warning bells fire but you’re too tired to care. A shower sounds lovely.

Wonwoo hauls you up, leading you into his small bathroom. The water in the shower is already running, steam escaping the stall as he ushers you under. The scratches at his back contrast brightly against his pale skin, a few bite marks spattered across his chest. You know you look equally debauched but the lull of warm water calms any concerns. The silence is comfortable, thick as you move like zombies. Wonwoo passes his body wash without a word, moving to shampoo his hair. Swapping between the brutally frigid air and the comforting warm water under the shower head, you both race to finish up quickly. Once satisfied, Wonwoo shuts off the faucet and grabs the towels from the hook on the wall. He hands you one before stepping out to dry himself. A spare toothbrush waits on the counter when you exit the stall.

Wonwoo leaves first, heading back to his room to dress. It gives you the opportunity to look in the mirror for the first time. Your skin glows, both from the steam and Wonwoo’s attention. Across your throat, bruises cluster like a necklace, splotches of darkness maring the skin. Unfolding the towel, you find more littered across your breasts, and an impressive one on the inside of your thigh. 

After the shock fades, exhaustion creeps back in. It had to be far into the early hours of the morning. You hope Mingyu stayed with Lisa at your shared apartment. Having to face Wonwoo in the morning was enough horror, but if Mingyu heard anything then you would never be able to look him in the eye again despite having heard your roommate and him more times than you can count.

Returning to Wonwoo’s room, you see him already under the covers, spread out on his stomach with his face squashed into the pillow. On his desk sits a tshirt and a pair of old shorts. Hanging the towel up in his bathroom, you snag the shirt and pull it on.

Finding your pants, you fish out your phone and see the time: 3:47AM. A few missed calls from Amina, several dozen texts from the group chat, and one from Lisa that reads “You better not be where I think you are” clutter the screen. 

There's no point in arguing the accusation. She has your location, you know she checked it before she went to bed. And in the morning you’ll have to answer every inane question that pops into her head. But for now, you need to sleep.

Sliding open the group text, you send a quick “I'm alive, see u in the morning for brunch?” tossing your phone aside.

Your head hits the pillow and you’re out like a light.

The dream you’re lost in is lovely. A faceless figure bends you over a desk, your heated face pressed against the glossy wood. Naked as the day you were born, nothing protecting your nipples from rubbing against the cold surface, hardening until you hiss from sensitivity. Large warm palms massage your ass, hands pushing upwards, lightly parting the cheeks to give him more leverage to lick at your leaking hole. You can feel him moan, echoing your own sounds of pleasure as he indulges. One hand finds its way back to his head, fingers tangling in his short hair, holding him in place as you rise on tiptoes to move against his mouth. He feels familiar but it doesn’t matter who he is, more so what he plans to do. Just as a thumb swipes against your other hole, pulling a shocked gasp from your lips, it all comes crashing down.

You claw at the tendrils of pleasure slipping past to no avail. Harsh whispers outside your door pull you awake as they gain volume. It isn’t out of the ordinary to hear snippets of your roommates’ conversations as they pass down the hall towards their own rooms. Having the first room off the kitchen was the sacrifice you made to have a bigger closet and a better view. Usually though, Lisa and Amina had the decency to not have a full blowout so early, and on a weekend no less.

As the whispers crescendo into a one sided screaming match, you make out Lisa and Mingyu’s voices on the other side of the thin wood. 

“Mingyu if you don’t move out of my way there will be TWO BODIES TO CLEAN UP.” 

Lisa is pissed, using a tone of voice saved for rare occasions. Occasions you rarely witnessed Mingyu be on the receiving end of. Whatever he had done, he better pray Lisa forgives him. He also better pray you forgive him for working Lisa’s temper up so early in the morning.

“Shut the fuck up!” you yell, voice thick with sleep, refusing to open your eyes against the light trickling in from the window above. Snuggling deeper in the soft covers, you try to force yourself back asleep, hoping to reunite with the anonymous dream man.

When did the window get above your bed? 

You shoot up, instantly regretting the decision. Splinters of pain shoot behind your left eye causing you to collapse back into the pillows to find reprieve. The grumble next to you sends your heart racing.

“I’m going to kill her,” a gravely male voice threatens.

Turning on your side, you brave the torturous sunlight to catch Wonwoo’s profile. His face is scrunched in annoyance, eyes shut as he too tries to get lost in the blankets. He drags the comforter over your heads, pulling you towards him to hide in the curve of your throat.

It all comes rushing back. Going home with him, your dirty deeds, the shared shower. You beg the powers that be to kill you when you remember how you begged with embarrassing ease.

Outside his door, Lisa bellows and forces the door open; sending it cracking against the wall with the force. 

The blanket rips down, uncovering who's hiding underneath. She only manages to pull it below your shoulder before you and Wonwoo realize what's happening and clutch at the fabric. Thank god you both are wearing clothes.

“What the fuck?” Wonwoo’s voice is acidic as he looks to Mingyu over Lisa’s head. Mingyu at least has the decency to look apologetic as Lisa acts like an overly concerned mother who just found her daughter with a boy in her bed.

“See? Y/N is alive, we can leave now,” Mingyu tries in vain to placate his girlfriend. Lisa snatches her hand away from him when he attempts to pull her out of Wonwoo’s room.

Lisa’s eyes take in your tousled hair, the bruises at both your necks, the clothes littered on the floor haphazardly. She isn’t stupid, she knows exactly what has happened. Lisa also knows Wonwoo wouldn’t take advantage of you, but she is still protective nonetheless. The amused look spreading across her face nearly sends you out the window and to the cement several stories below.

“Oh my god, are you fifteen?” Her question is pointed at Wonwoo, catching the string of hickies marking your neck.

“How about you get the fuck out of my room?” Wonwoo bites, raising his voice. He burrows under your chin, dragging the blanket over his head once again.

“We’ll talk about this later!” Lisa calls as Mingyu finally drags her out the door, her voice is muffled by the slam of it shutting but you clearly hear her yell, “Brunch is in an hour!” 

Finally left alone, you mind races to prepare for the interrogation waiting for you. Wonwoo appears to be unaware of any such troubles. Cuddling down into the swell of your breasts, he’s already trailing back towards sleep. 

Despite yourself, the hand stuck under him rises up to gently trace shapes across the expanse of his back. The warm skin lulls you into a trance as the memories from the hours prior replay.

“Are you sure I can stay?” A deep yawn warps your voice. You’re  already halfway under the covers, hoping he doesn’t change his mind. If you have to stay awake any longer you’ll have a meltdown.

“Yes.” His face is still pushed into his pillow, voice distorted by the barrier and slurred with his sleep. “Now shut up and sleep.”

And you do just that. Shocking, given you’re a horrible bed partner; tossing and turning most of the night, waking frequently. Seungcheol experienced many grumpy mornings courtesy of your poor sleep hygiene after a sleepover. But in Wonwoo’s bed, your restlessness decides to take the night off, allowing you to sleep like a rock.

It can’t have been more than a couple hours before you awake again. Despite the short snooze, you’re more rested than you’ve been in months. Stretching with a yawn, you find what roused you awake. 

Somehow Wonwoo found you in his sleep, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, body firm against your back. He’s hot skin and hard muscle, the tent in his boxers sliding roughly across the naked skin of your thighs. Cursing yourself for forgoing the shorts he laid out, you try and twist away only for Wonwoo’s length to settle between the dip of your ass.

You freeze solid. Listening to the sound of his breathing stop then even out once again. Waiting to confirm he’s still asleep, you try moving away again only for his hips to press against you once you wiggle against him. Body acting on its own, your spine curls, sending your ass back into his crotch. 

And then Wonwoo’s arm around your waist flexes and he thrusts forward. 

Shit.

“Can I help you?” he asks, face buried somewhere between your shoulder blades, nose tracing your spine until he finds the bare skin of your neck to leave heated gossamer kisses.

There’s nothing left to lose. You’ve already fucked. Wonwoo face to face with your most intimate parts, and you the same. You begged him to cum inside you for Christ's sake. Giving another curl of your hips, you decide to meet his challenge.

“Can you?” you whisper into the darkness, eyes sliding close again as a tired breath leaves your nose. It's less of a goad, and more of a subtle beg for his attention.

Wonwoo drags the hand wrapped around your waist downward, wedging it between your thighs gently. You’re already wet from the brief movements against one another. He wastes no time, immediately framing your clit with two fingers, teasing friction to warm you up. The first twitch into his hand has his fingers dropping, pushing into your entrance as you parts your legs to make more room. His movements are sluggish but he placates your want the best he can.

One of your hands slides under the covers, moving behind your back to grab him. The unmistakable heat greets you through the fabric of his underwear. His breath stutters against your back, his chest pressed tightly against your back like a second skin. Wonwoo jerks forward through your fist, clothed tip prodding against the soft curve of your ass when you reach the base.

Continuing to move just like that, you both are more than content to get off like this, much too tired to put in any real effort. But when you push down his boxer just enough to feel the hot velvet skin of his tip against the dip of your spine, leaking from light touches, Wonwoo decides he wants more. Needs more. 

He pushes your hand away, directing himself between your legs, resting his tip at your entrance. With shallow thrusts forward, he lets himself catch on the ring of muscle just inside, barely parting your walls. The thought of him returning deep inside you, condom nowhere to be found, makes you drool. At some point Wonwoo’s hand finds your waist again, this time under the fabric of the flimsy t-shirt. The thick cotton bunches across your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples while his hand splays between and pulls you against him.

You have half a mind to let him fuck you like this, raw, half asleep, tucked under the covers in the silence of his room. The other half blares with sirens and red lights flashing DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! 

The louder part of your brain, the one that sounds suspiciously like when Amina scolded you for not using condoms with Seungcheol after getting an IUD, wins. 

It takes all the strength you possess  to break the trance Wonwoo has. His lips have taken to mouthing at the back of your neck, his nose tracing the notches of your spine while his tongue sends goosebumps blooming.

“Condom.” you finally manage to breathe out, voice pushing past the thick blanket of lust and fatigue.

The hand on your chest flies off, moving in the direction of the bedside table. Within seconds Wonwoo wraps himself in the latex and pushes inside.

The stretch is perfect, muscles already accommodating his languid thrusts inside you. His hips are tucked tightly along your ass, barely a sliver of space between your bodies. One of Wonwoo’s hands reaches back under your shirt to thumb your sore nipples, letting a heavy flesh rest in his palm. The arm propped under your head reaches out, Wonwoo’s fingers twisting in the pillow cases. The web of veins and muscles flex with each cant, almost ripping the fabric of the sheet apart when you clench around him. 

As if having a mind of its own, a hand trails up his neck, cradling the back of his head and tangling in short locks of hair. Wonwoo hitches his chin over your shoulder, leaning forward to moan right into your ear. Your other hand takes the abandoned post at your clit, determined to make yourself cum and pass back out in the next five minutes. 

Unlike the explosions earlier, your orgasm crawls up slowly, bubbling to the surface in a smooth simmer. Your thighs tighten, twitching as the pot boils over and melting you into Wonwoo’s chest. He follows you over the edge quickly, hips continuing their fluid rhythm until they stutter against your ass; shuddering breaths leaving his chest, a quiet groan of satisfaction punctuating his content. You can’t move even if your life depends on it, heaviness settling in your muscles like concrete.

You're already descending back into the realm of dreams when Wonwoo slips away.

Wonwoo’s soft snores jolt you back. You’re far too awake to try joining him. And you can’t just stay in his room forever. Glancing around the room, you devise an escape plan. Wonwoo’s position doesn’t lend any subtlety, any effort to move from under him requires you to lift his entire weight.

You sit still for another minute, contemplating the potential pros and cons if he is awake to see you run, away from the sanctuary of his room and into the reality sitting beyond the door. Precisely as you decide to deal with whatever teasing he’ll no doubt hurl your way, Wonwoo shifts, burrowing back into the pillow on his side to provide easy access. Waiting with bated breath, you’re relieved when the muscles of his back expand with a deep inhale as he settles in slumber once again.

Springing out of bed, you collect your phone and wrinkled clothes. The shocking level of cleanliness and organization the room possesses for a man his age aids your quest. However, your underwear appears to be a lost cause. With haste, you search under the bed, eyes scouring the area around his desk, even sneaking a quick glance back towards him to see if the missing garment is mixed with the pillows. All is fruitless as the bright pink garments have disappeared, gone without a trace.

After slipping on your pants with impressive speed, you're out of his bedroom and into the hallway. Body on autopilot, you tiptoe towards the front door.  

The cracked door of Mingyu’s room where Lisa is no doubt waiting to ambush lingers just ahead. You don’t dare to breathe as you breeze past and ruin her plans. The heavy metal of the front door groans at your pull, tensing as noise echoes in the hallway behind you. You’re swift, slipping between the crack in the door frame and into the stairwell before Lisa can even call out your name. By the time Lisa is able to pull the front door back open, you’re down the stairs and halfway through the lobby, beelining for the busy street outside.

Everyone on the street can tell you’re taking a walk of shame; their judgment burning into your skull with each step closer to home. The tale tell signs are clear as day: messy hair, t-shirt clearly belonging to someone else, eyes downcast as you move along the congested sidewalk of a Saturday morning. The only solace is the neck of Wonwoo's shirt covering a majority of the marks staining your skin. 

You don’t breathe until you round the block of your apartment. Thankfully the lobby is empty and so is the elevator as you ride up in stifling silence. Slipping through the crack of the sliding doors, you rush the remaining distance and finally find your way into sanctuary.

The door clicks shut, and the dull thud of your head meeting metal rings a second later; the cool melt against the sweat on your brow is a lovely reprieve.

The sound of a throat clearing down the hall less so.

Glaring over your shoulder, you find Amina leaning over the kitchen island, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively. Lisa clearly informed her of the morning's findings.

Her lips twitch with humor, choking out, “Have a good night?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, launching off the door and to your room. Sharp laughter meets your back.

Hiding away in the bathroom, you cloak yourself in steam and scrub away any remnants of the night. Starting with the piney smell of Wonwoo’s body wash. 

You run through the facts despite wanting nothing more than forgetting the entire ordeal. 

Fact: Wonwoo isn’t as horrible as Seungcheol made you believe.

Opinion: He’s still infuriating.

Fact: You slept with Wonwoo.

Opinion: It wasn’t half bad.

Fact: You won’t do it again.

Thirty minutes later, the hot water runs out and you’re forced back into reality.

She can’t look in the mirror, knowing exactly what you’ll see. The proof that can’t be scrubbed away, the proof that the you let Wonwoo fuck you silly, and that you wouldn’t mind if it happened again. 

Some time later, hidden amongst the piles of blankets littering your bed, you mope. The hood of your sweatshirt tied tightly around your head leaving only your face visible. The TV hums with the drunk gibberish of the reality tv show cast as they laugh and cry over something innocuous.

A soft knock on the door breaks your focus, Amina appearing in the opening.

“Are you still coming to breakfast?” She asks.

“Don’t feel good.”

“Y/N,” Amina sighs, sitting on the edge of your bed. “It’s not that bad.”

You almost swallow your tongue. Of all your friends, Amina dislikes Wonwoo the most. She’s polite as she can be for Lisa and Mingyu’s sake, but everyone knows they get on as well as fire and water. 

“Who are you?” you question, eyes widening at the impersonator perched at your feet.

Amina cackles in response, and you can’t help but join. 

“You had fun, right?” Amina asks, waiting for your nod before continuing.“Okay, then who cares?”

“You don’t?” 

“No,” Amina sighs. “You’ve been…” 

She pauses, weighing her next words. “...down, since Seungcheol left. Maybe this is what you needed to get back out there.”

You start to object but fail to find any evidence against her claim. Seungcheol leaving turned your world upside down. You couldn’t hate him. It wasn’t like he didn’t try to make things work. But there was nothing for you in Seattle, just like there was nothing for him in New York. Other than each other. Somehow it’s much harder when no one is to blame other than unchangeable circumstances.

Amina rubs your knee over the covers. “It’s not my business who you sleep with. Unless you bring him here and I hear you, then I reserve the right to kill you both.” 

“Trust me, it won’t be happening again.”

“Why?” Now it’s Amina’s turn to be shocked. “Was it that bad?”

“No!” You blurt, face heating at the sudden outburst. “It was just a one time thing. Get it out of the system.”

Amina hums. Silence falling between you.

“So… was he better than Seungcheol?” Amina asks like she doesn’t care either way but you know she’s curious. She heard enough times about the lack of chemistry between you and Seungcheol for to have a vested interest in your sex life.

Truthfully, he was. The best experience with Seungcheol paled in comparison next to your night with Wonwoo. 

Taking silence as an answer, Amina stands.

“Get dressed. Eva is already on the way here to pick us up.” 

She leaves with out another word.

Across town, Wonwoo contemplates the ramifications of murder. 

The morning after a night like his should have him walking around like the sun shined out of his ass. Instead, the most annoying person in the city chose to rain on his parade. That person is coincidentally his best friend's girlfriend.

If it hadn’t been for Lisa’s shouts this morning, he’s more than confident you would have agreed to a repeat of the nights events. Maybe even two or three if he was lucky.

But no, you sprinted from his bed the second he feigned sleep. Watching through barely cracked eyes, he almost broke his cover when you nearly fell head first into the door knob, hastily trying to pull your pants up and walk at the same time. 

Wonwoo let you go, no snide comments or crude remarks. He knew if he wanted you to return to his bed then the best way was to bite his tongue. Goading had worked the first time, now he’d have to let your curiosity get the better of you. You would come back sooner or later, and he'd be ready when it happened.

He’d given you a few minutes to find your way out, hoping you avoided Lisa and saved you both the embarrassment. The slam of the front door and lack of screaming informed him of your success. Wanting to make sure you were long gone before he exited his room, Wonwoo took his time brushing his teeth. Catching himself in the mirror, his reflection gave a self-satisfied smirk. The stain of your teeth and lips contrasted against his skin and his back stung along the raised red welts from your nails.

Flicking off the light, Wonwoo heads towards back to his room. Lisa will demand audience sooner or later and it's better if he rips the bandaid off now. In his peripheral, a swatch of pale pink fabric tucked underneath one of the legs of his dresser catches his attention. Ducking down, he puls at the stretch of cotton. Lifting them up to inspect the out of place garment, Wonwoo finds himself face to face with your panties. He huffs a laugh before crumbling them in his hand, and tossing them in the hamper on the way out of his room. 

Lisa waits for him at the dining table; commanding the head seat like a mob boss.

From her perch, she watches him with keen interest that makes his bowl of cereal taste like mush. Mingyu already excused himself to take a shower before Wonwoo sat down, attempting to avoid the ensuing blow out. 

Every question is answered with one word answers or dismissive grunts. Even Lisa’s attempts to bait him into unrelated arguments roll off. Lisa chisels away at any sign of weakness but Wonwoo refuses to give her the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. It’s none of her business. Even if you’re her best friend.

Wonwoo counts his blessings when a call comes through her phone, the vibration on the table interrupting her attempt to burn a hole through his skull. Lisa rises to answer, pacing the kitchen while the feminine voice coming out the receiver chatters on. She ducks her head into Mingyu’s room, bidding him farewell. As she passes Wonwoo again on her way out, she gives him another furious look to let him know she isn’t done with their “conversation”. 

To rub salt in the wound, Wonwoo sends her off with an overly friendly smile and a wiggle of his fingers. He wipes down his face when the door slam shuts, shoulders dropping.  He knew hooking up with you might cause problems. He didn’t know they would become evident so quickly, but problems nonetheless. 

Worth it, he thinks 

The look on her face when she came for him made anything Lisa planned to throw his worth the price.

Wonwoo didn’t care what any of them had to say, you both were grown adults. He wanted to sleep with and you wanted to sleep with him. End of conversation. Anyone else’s opinion meant nothing.

And if things go the way he thinks they will, he’ll get to see you in his bed again.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi

Series Taglist: @aaniag @sdoulc @wonvsmile @jeonwonwooscutie @wonrangwoo @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @yogurttea @4cheezflatbred @fragmentof-indifference @p-dwiddle @icedearlgreytea @cottoncheol @hoshiskimchi @listxn @kwonshiho

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[mooshywrites]

What makes them blush

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Masterlist

Art Commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Astarion ~

~ Whispering in his ear ~

~ Astarion always falls to pieces when you whisper in his ear

~ It doesn’t matter whether what you’re saying is innocent or not

~ A little shiver runs down his back a blush rises in his porcelain skin

~ He pretends to listen to what you’re saying, but in reality, he’s only paying attention to the way your lips ever so gently brush across his pointed ear

~ Before too long, his mind is clouded over and he’s completely lost on the conversation

~ With an embarrassed smile and perfectly pink cheeks, he never fails to ask

~ “I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t seem to catch that. Whisper it to me again?”

Halsin ~

~ Promises to come ~

~ In the beginning, it was hard to figure out what made Halsin come undone

~ It seemed that all of your regular tricks failed to rile up the Druid, and you were almost ready to give up

~ That was, until, jokingly you told him that you’d make him a Father if he didn’t stop snoring so loudly during the night

~ You were quite surprised to see Halsins cheeks go bright red and his eyes widen

~ He couldn’t even speak and the two of you sat in complete silence, waiting for each other to make a move

~ You could’ve help but smile slyly, knowing you had finally found a weak point

~ “Do not make promises you don’t intend to keep if you don’t intend to get my hopes up, my heart”

Gale ~

~ Denial ~

~ Gale was a hard one to tease

~ It didn’t matter what you did, it seemed impossible to make him embarrassed

~ You could kiss him like the world was ending in front of a crowd of people, and instead of being caught off guard, he’d just eat up the attention

~ Finally, after getting annoyed that you couldn’t make the wizard blush, you ignored him completely

~ It didn’t start out on purpose, you just needed some time to cool off

~ But after a while, you realized Gale was getting more and more desperate for your affection

~ He started out with little quips, a whine or two when you dodged his kisses

~ By the end of the evening, he was a blushing mess, practically at your feet hoping you’d give him a scrap of attention

~ “Please don’t make me beg, love”

Wyll ~

~ Public affection ~

~ Wyll loved showing off his love for the world, but mostly in small ways

~ A gentle handhold, a chaste kiss on the cheek, a soft grip on your waist when walking around Baldur’s Gate

~ You didn’t think much of it, it wasn’t like he was outright ignoring you in public

~ It wasn’t until you had suddenly pulled him close into a deep kiss that you realized why the Duke hadn’t done something like that before

~ When you pulled away, Wyll’s cheeks were flushed and his breath uneven

~ He looked around, making sure no one had seen how dramatic his reaction was before he gave a chuckle

~ “Oh, you’re in for a world of hurt for that one once we’re home”

[k2ntoss]

this is from @millyhelp 's ask from the prompts thingy so babe, i hope you enjoy this!!! PLUS THIS IS QUALITY OVER ANYTHING ELSE, i should be asleep by now bc i have to take a flight tomorrow at 6am buuuuut here we are :3

milly when i catch you milly (i have been thinking about THIS since i read your request and i'm literally vibrating here in a level i cannot describe) i just i don't know what i'm doing but i hope you know i'm here sitting while thinking about jason AT WORK

when they murmur pure filth into your ear while they're touching you + smirking into a kiss/against your skin when you whimper at their touch + "you're in no position to tease baby, remember that."

jason can say he hates attending bruce's galas, they're boring and full of people he dislikes but having you as his partner makes it worth the time he spends there. the way he's able to admire you in those pretty long night dresses, your make up and hair done in a way you'd only look prettier to his eyes, it was definetely his favorite part of being out in a night he rather spend at home cuddling with you.

but what jason hates more of bruce's galas is the fact that he isn't able to be too touchy with you when you're by his side and yeah, he also hates the way you take advantage of that because such a loving girlfriend would enjoy the art of torture by teasing him all night long. he stares as you stand right next to him, your hand holding his arm as he speaks to someone and you stroke his forearm without paying much mind to anything else, jason feels your touch a bit more than what he should and it only drives him insane when it comes together with the way you stare up at him as he speaks, if only he could push you to your knees and get you to look up at him while you gag around his cock...

"sweetheart, i'm gonna go get a drink, i'll be right back" you say with a small smile, your hand suddenly bringing him back from his thoughts when you subtly graze his chest with your fingertips, making a soft trail to his stomach and he only nods, his lips parted and his mind running wild once again.

you make your way to the expensive bar, thinking about any tasty drink that will help you feel more comfortable around all the rich and empty individuals around the room so as soon as you're able to ask for a drink the bartender gives you what could have been seen as a gentle smile but truth be told, jason knew better and yeah, he was looking from where you left him because there's no way he'd let his girlfriend all alone and unprotected.

he's able to see the man hand you a glass filled with clear liquor and he holds himself to interrupt you or to make you uncomfortable, he knows you don't try to make any deep conversation with that guy but he, on the other hand leans against the bar and talks to you with a wide grin almost as if he thought he made a great and succesful attempt on getting your attention and that's enough to make him smirk proudly, jason knows he's the only one that knows how to get your attention in a way you do enjoy it.

what's unexpected for him comes right after you notice his eyes on your back and look at him from over your shoulder, giving him a soft smile before turning back to actually chuckle to something that guy was telling you and now, that's weird because he swears that right before you looked back at him you seemed to be really bored about anything you were hearing. jason is able to see, still from across the room how you sit on one of those high stools, the slit of your dress letting your thigh a little more exposed than before and the way you lean forward allows you to be a bit closer to a man that wasn't him.

he has no idea where he should look, your waist seems to call him just so he can place his hand over it and squeeze it in a possessive way, your legs look lile he could make them wrap around his hips as he pounds into you and he has no idea what's gotten into him, it's a mix of jealousy because someone else has your attention and the way your body looks so good it makes jason want to devour you whole.

his need grows worse when you switch from the short vodka and sprite glass to a tall one with whisky and the way you mindlessly stroke the side of it with your fingertips has him almost growling and he decides it's been already enough when the bartender reaches to the pocket of his black blazer and slides his phone over the bar, clearly jason doesn't know that you're just about to type in the phone number of one of your friends that needed a bartender for the new bar he wanted to open and he clearly wasn't even thinking about it, instead he just allowed himself to walk his way until he reached your side, leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder when he stood next to you "thought you were going to come back, princess" he says and there's a ever so slight tint of jealousy on his words.

"oh yeah, i got a little distracted here" you start before taking a short sip from your glass just to offer him an innocent smile "do you remember that bar a friend of mine wanted to open? i was telling him they wanted a bartender and i was about to give him leo's number" and he nodded, the bartender suddenly not looking so flirty with you when your big ass boyfriend was looking at him as if he was about to rip his head off his shoulders.

"yeah? think i have his card so no need to bother," jason tells you, his hand going into his pocket to reach for the nice wallet he used to keep cards and some other important stuff, taking out what he wanted and sliding the card across the bar "here. give them a call but i think they already found someone." he says with a subtle scowl before looking back at you. and as soon as his eyes met yours realization fell upon your boyfriend, that glint of pure mischief and joyful mockery was all he needed to know that this was just another part of your tease game.

"think we can talk somewhere else, baby?" he asks as he leans in to whisper into your ear "don't you think i don't know what you're doing, love." then jason mutters before leaving a soft kiss on your temple as his hand snakes over your side to hold your waist and pull you out of the stool just to walk you out of the room filled with people. it was a short walk across a few hallways before he opened a door that led to a bathroom, the marble counter and the tall roof another proof of how expensive the place was but you had not so much time to actually take in every other detail of the nice bathroom because you felt now both of jason's hands holding your hips and walking you until you were in front of the mirror.

"jay? what's that you need to tell me?" you ask him in a soft tone, sounding innocent as your boyfriend towered over you, his hands now resting on your hips as he looked at you through your reflection.

"how do you manage to look so heavenly, ma?" he sounds really sweet, unbothered as if your efforts weren't enough to make him act feral and that was strange to say the least "this is a good thing about this stupid events, being able to admire my girl looking so good." and still there's still a slight tint of possessiveness slipping into his words

"i don't know what you're talking about, baby" you'd answer, cheeks red and a sweet giggle escaping your lips as your own hands rest over his and anyone could see and say that this was just another wholesome moment between a young couple in love but jason had other plans in mind "but i think we're missing the whole thing"

your word fall on deaf ears when his hands start to stroke your hips, the silky and thin fabric allows jason to feel your bare skin right under your dress and it draws a deep hum out of his throat at the same time he leans to kiss that spot between your shoulder and neck "you know what i don't like about this galas? the fact that every other idiot is able to see my girl looking so damn good and what's worse, is that some of them think they have a chance with you."

his hands lower until you feel how the fabric slides upwards, causing you to shiver when jason's fingers caress your thigh under the slit of the dress while he keeps his gaze on yours through the mirror. he loves the way you look with him, how your body reacts to his every touch and yeah, anyone could say that jason todd is a bit possessive but you wouldn't blame him. the possessiveness on his touch came alomg with pure need, not only lust or dominance but with extreme adoration because you were the most precious thing on his life and he wasn't up to let go of you. not now, not ever.

"i don't know what you're talking about..." this time there's a small grin pulling at the edges of your lips, you do know what he's talking about and honestly, you adore when he wants to claim your attention from himself "but i was having a nice time chatting with my new friend" that part sets off a new jolt of jealousy and also it breaks the already thin string of patience jason has when it comes to your teasing.

"a nice time... were you? i think that you know exactly what i'm talking about, angel," jason utters right as his lips brush against the skin of your neck, he presses a lingering and firm kiss before his hand squeezes your thigh "all that mischief in your pretty eyes, the way you walk making your dress move in a way it only hugs your curves, do you think i can't see it?"

the way his voice grows deeper indicates what he has in mind and that's what you've been trying to get by touching him and putting a subtle show just for your boyfriend to grow insane with need. his gaze parts from your eyes to follow the path his own hands make as he starts to pull up the fabric of your dress, lips making a trail of short kisses that make you close your eyes and let your head drop to give him more room.

"you love attention, that much i can tell," he murmurs into your ear and as soon as he sees how you try to reach for him he shakes his head "no. hands on the counter and keep them there, be a good girl and do as you're told." he says, the comand on his tone sets you in automatic, pressing your hands against the black marble and seeing you being so obedient makes jason grin wickedly.

he had you right where he wanted you.

there's a low and rumbling chuckle that escapes him as soon as he is able to touch your bare hip, feeling proud of the fact that he knew you wouldn't be wearing any underwear with the silky dress that you were using. he loves that, being able to slide his hands under your clothes to touch you and feel you shiver before you start to grind against his fingers without a second thought. the feeling of knowing how much you wanted him and how good he was able to make you feel, it was only him that could do so.

"what a pretty surprise," jason says, one of his hands holding part of your dress up over your waist as the other one went to grip at your ass before letting a harsh slap fall over it that drags a soft yelp out of you "aren't you such a good girl? wearing anything underneath your dress to allow me to have easy access to this pretty pussy of yours" he says in a deep tone as his hand moves again, this time running over your inner thigh to squeeze it.

"jay... anyone could come in..." your words are soft, almost a whisper as jason's hand makes its way a bit further until he's able to graze your clit with his fingertips, making you press your lips in a fine line to hold back the soft moan that forms on your throat as you try to wiggle your hips to get a little more of his touch.

"no one is gonna come in, ma" he whispers into your ear, his arm now around your waist to hold the fabric in place as well as to prevent you from moving "now be a good little doll and spread your legs for me." jason says right before he bites your earlobe softly.

and you do as he says, allowing him to slip his fingers over your cunt in a slow and torturing pace, you can feel the rough skin and the way he seems to know exactly how to touch you to get you wet without doing so much. he keeps that touch, fingers teasingly tapping on your slit before he playfully spreads your lips as he kisses your shoulder with a shit eating smirk whenever you whimper and try to buck your hips to get him to touch you more.

"you don't like it when i tease you like this, baby? you seemed to be having so much fun when you were doing the same to me," he almost grunts as his hand pulls away from you, the pout on your lips and how you seem to wanna cry makes him laugh "you had no trouble to look up at me with those pretty 'fuck me' eyes you use when you're choking on my cock like a little whore."

he needs no other thing really to make you moan, jason knows what to do to get you going and he loves to start by teasing you. leaning in to whisper his every word to your ears and calling you all sort of names, his hands holding your body as he presses himself against your ass, letting you feel his hard cock though the fabric of his dressing pants.

"i wasn't doing that!" you protest, lying to him right to his face just to get what you wanted. pushing his buttons and jason would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this little game.

"oh weren't you now? you know damn well you were teasing me, since we arrived you can't stop swaying your pretty ass to make me drag you away just so i can pin you down to fuck you." he says, the same low tone as he talks and his hand moves, going up and hovering over your chest and throat until he reaches your face to hold your cheeks briefly, then letting go to slip his thumb between your lips "such a needy little thing, begging to be used without an ounce of shame like the slut she is"

a muffled moan escapes you, eyes closed shut when jason pushes his digit against your tongue and moves it back and forth as you suck it obediently but he stops and pulls away when he feels you rock your hips against him, your ass rubbing his bulge and making him groan right about to give up the small punishment just to bury himself deep inside you.

"stop moving. you're in no position to tease baby, remember that." jason says, this time his voice sounds a little more stern and his gaze is fixed back on yours "you want it so bad, don't you? want me to use you right here like a little toy for me to abuse whenever and wherever i want."

his hand goes back to your thighs, this time he holds one and squeezes it in a motion that made you lift your leg, allowing jason to make you bend it and hold yourself with your knee pressed to the counter. keeping you spread like that for him he lets a playful pat fall right between your legs, causing you to whimper in need, wanting to grind on his dick until he couldn't resist the urge to actually fuck your needy hole.

"c'mon... i really need you, jay" you moan as soon as his fingers stroke again your cunt, slipping between your folds he smirks when your slick covers his digits creating soft wet sounds as he traces circles on your clit before doing the same around your entrance "need you to fuck me, please, ruin me."

"don't think you deserve so, baby," he coos you mockingly, his middle finger pushing teasingly against you but not sliding in to allow to feel him into you "why don't you pull your dress down, mhm? let me see those pretty tits of yours, put on a show for me."

it makes you shiver, the idea of exposing yourself for him as he's practically punishing you is something new because jason has never asked you to do so while keeping your clothes on, lets not say in a public space but it was a turn on when he looked down at you with predatory eyes as you spilled your breasts out of your dress, the thin straps now hanging loose on your arms as he pressed his chest to your back and made a thrusting motion against your ass.

"the things you'd do for me to stretch your pussy, to be fucked dumb until you are nothing but a cock-drunk slut" he growls against your ear and the whiny moan you let out makes him grin widely as he kisses and nibbles at the nape of your neck "here, hold your dress for me, sweetheart"

and he nods when your hands hold now your dress, his hands guiding you to make you bend slightly. jason looks hungrily at your exposed body, the way you look so vulnerable when he took advantage of it made it so hard to resist his urges but he knew that as soon as you both arrived home he'd be able to fuck you into a mindless puddle.

"you adore doing this, don't ya, ma?" he asks, one of his hands slides down your back. caressing your spine and to your ass until he reaches your core, a sharp slap falls right there and the whine you let out only fuels jason "teasing me just so you can get attention, you love to get me jealous just for me to end up letting you know how i'm the only one that will make you feel so good"

his fingers are stroking you again but this time he isn't as delicate or slow as before, his hand grinds against your cunt and he pinches your clit a few times to make you moan even louder. the wet sounds his palm makes while he plays with your slick are only hushed by your whimpers, his other hand now groping your breasts.

"it's adorable how you try to get me to use you just to be edged, to be teased like every dirty slut deserves" jason growls behind your ear and this time he pushes two fingers inside you, moving them at a fast pace without really paying mind to the way your legs tremble because he is also teasing your nipples "all of this effort just to get your pussy played with, not even getting to feel my cock inside your greedy cunt."

"jay please... don't do this to me" you cry, the torture continues because jason touches your sweet spot a few times by curling his fingers but stops when you clench around him, trying to move and fuck yourself with his fingers but the gaze he gives you is enough to stop it.

"i'm sorry, princess, that's all you'll get now" jason whispers, a satisfied smirk and a kiss on your temple as he takes his fingers out of you before stepping back "you should fix your dress again, baby, you can't go out with it all pulled up."

that's what you got, jason is now looking at your reflex as he leans back against a wall and he licks his fingers clean before giving you a lovely smile.

maybe, just maybe, you were in no position to tease after all.

[another-lost-mc]

Hey<3

I hope you're having a lovely day like you♡

I have a lil request which is OM brothers accidentally hitting MC maybe in the face or smth.

Thank you in advance ☺

a/n: considering the daily chaos that ensues at the HoL, I could see a lot of accidents happening. plus, they're demons—maybe they forget their own strength, y'know?

➤ when accidents happen | the demon brothers

1.1k words | sfw | hurt/comfort | gn!reader

Lucifer makes a grab for someone—probably Mammon or Satan—who ducks behind you at the last moment, causing his hand to swipe across your cheek or forehead instead. You rub the sore spot and start sputtering angrily at them, glaring back and forth between Lucifer's bewildered expression and the guilty face of the sibling he was reaching for. Their little fight is momentarily forgotten when they both comfort you and make sure you're okay. Lucifer feels the most guilt and over the next few days, you catch him staring at your face like he's trying to make absolutely sure you're not injured or holding a grudge against him. He eventually remembers how this whole situation started, and his sibling's delayed punishment is much more severe because you were caught in the crossfire.

Mammon nearly crashes into you in his rush to escape Lucifer or Levi's wrath. You have no idea what the shouting down the hall is about—maybe he spent too much money at the casino again or maybe he broke something valuable. All you know is that you're heading to the library and minding your own business when Mammon comes tearing around the corner at lightning-fast speed. It's comical how quickly his expression morphs from surprise to horror when he realizes you're in his path. He grazes your side even though he changes direction to avoid hitting you head-on. He loses his balance and the momentum sends him crashing to the floor. Whoever was chasing him catches up to him and there's gonna be hell to pay, but Mammon managed to avoid seriously hurting you and that's all he really cares about.

Levi shifts into his demon form when he's cuddled with you in his tub but he doesn't always realize it. You wake up most mornings with his tail wrapped around part of you: your arm, your waist, one of your legs. When Levi gets excited, his tail thumps against the porcelain. (You can't help but think about an excited dog wagging his tail, but you keep that comparison to yourself.) You usually fall asleep curled around each other, but sometimes his tail flails around enough that it wakes you up. Tonight his tail flicks roughly against the tip of your nose, and your eyes water from surprise and the initial burst of pain. You're fine again within a couple minutes, but that doesn't stop Levi from apologizing profusely and he nearly sobs with embarrassment over the whole thing.

Satan has better control over his frustration and rage now than when you first met him, but he still needs some sort of outlet when he feels overwhelmed. He usually storms off to his room and deals with it privately. You've offered him the solution of screaming into a pillow, but it's not soothing for him like it can be for you. He often destroys something instead—ripping a book to shreds (and regretting it later) or throwing something against the wall. Whatever's in his hand becomes collateral damage. If he forgets you're in his room too, it can be dangerous. He's never thrown something at you, but poor aim and bad luck means that whatever he sends flying against the wall can ricochet into pieces and hit you after. It's like a bucket of cold water dumping over his head when your little noise of surprise catches his attention, and he fusses over you endlessly while he makes sure you're not really hurt. He doesn't think it's funny when you grin and remind him that you're still in better shape than his now-destroyed coffee mug is.

Asmo rarely hurts you even by accident, and usually it's in silly moments of clumsy excitement. Today he painted his nails with a new nail art technique he hasn't tried before. You both lean down at the same time to admire his work and his forehead smacks into yours. You're both a little stunned and your eyes water from the shock rather than actual pain. He breaks out into giggles when you whine his name and try to blame him even though it's really no one's fault. Asmo accepts responsibility anyway and he apologizes profusely, but he hesitates to hug you when his nails are still wet and tacky with polish. He opens his arms wide so you can wrap your arms around his chest instead. He peppers your head with kisses and promises to make it up to you as soon as his nails are dry.

Usually Beel polishes off all the leftovers at dinner. Some nights you want extra helpings too, and it's like a mad dash to help yourself before Beel does. Tonight you both reach for the dish of hellfire scalloped potatoes at the same time. Your fingers grab the side of the dish first, but his fingers squeeze around yours immediately after. His grip is tight—too tight—and you wince from the pressure of his fingers digging into your hand and the uncomfortable heat of the ceramic dish against your palm. Mammon grabs his fork and stabs Beel's hand with it on your behalf. Beel looks so guilty when he pulls his arm away and insists that you can have the rest. His stomach growls in protest, but you know it was an accident and you're not really hurt. After you shake the stiffness from your fingers, you scoop some of the food onto his plate before helping yourself to the rest. Later on, he offers to take you out for ice cream as an apology.

When Belphie sleeps, he has some cursory awareness of what's going on around him but he tries to block it out. He's not easy to move around, either—his body is like dead weight, heavy and awkward and unyielding. When you nap together, he usually falls asleep and doesn't move around too much. You might scoot away when his body next to yours causes you to overheat, but he tends to stay exactly how he is. It's days when he has active dreams or bad nightmares that things can get a little awkward. He might wrap an arm around you suddenly and it's nearly impossible to wiggle free, and sometimes his tail makes an appearance and drapes over you when he feels particularly clingy. Sometimes your arm ends up pinched against the mattress after he rolls on top of you in his sleep. He'll wake up when he realizes it's you trying to get his attention, but his apologies for nearly crushing you don't sound very sincere. Once he's lifted himself off you, he lets you get repositioned first then he cuddles up beside you again. As he drifts off to sleep, he grumbles under his breath about how it couldn't have been that bad.

[jiminsafairy]

Darling, you are late - Seokjin (ft Namjoon)

Summary: Your husband is late to your baby making session, so you take the matter into your own hands.

Pairing: CEOhusband!seokjin x wife!reader (ft husband best friend!Namjoon)

wc:3k

Warnings: unprotected sex (they are trying to make a baby, duh), exhibitionism, he cums inside (duh), cockwarming, seokjin is a workaholic, pregnancy kink (lactation kink if you squint?), namjoon makes a cameo! reader gives him a bj while seokjin fucks her

"Sir, your wife is here" you hear his secretary say.

"Send her in", he answers, his voice distorted as it comes off the intercom.

"You can come in, Mrs. Kim" the old lady indicates.

You push open the double doors and stepped inside. The room was spacious and bright, with floor-to-ceiling windows that filled the space with natural light and offered a stunning view of the city.

To one side, a comfortable red velvet sofa provided a cozy spot to relax. The office was tastefully decorated with a few pieces of art on the walls giving the finishing touch.

In the center of the office stood a large wooden desk, neatly organized. Seated on the fancy chair was your husband. His eyes were fixed on the laptop screen, face scrunched in concentration, a frown creasing his forehead.

You couldn’t avoid the thought of how handsome he looked with his two-piece gray suit.

"Hello dear, give just one m- " your husband starts to say, but you cut him, angry.

"I thought you were coming home early!" you scold him, crossing your arms over your chest. After waiting for more than an hour you got tired of it and decided to take the matter into your own hands, driving across the city to his office.

"I’m sorry darling, had to attend a last-minute meeting and now I’m stuck with paperwork" Seokjin excuses himself, eyesight never leaving the screen.

"Don’t you know what day it is?!" you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I’m afraid you’ll have to refresh my memory, dear" he mumbles, not paying attention to you.

"It’s ovulation day! You said you were going home early!", you pout while walking up to his desk, the sound of your heels clicking on the floor.

"Gimme a ‘I’m sorry kiss’ at least" , you demand, and your husband finally takes his sight away from the computer. He looks at you with sorry eyes, and you lean in, allowing him to place a quick peck on your lips.”I love you” you say.

"Mmm, I love you too" he says against your lips, "Please wait for me just five more minutes and we’ll go home" he excuses himself, going back to his important CEO paperwork

"Darling but I’m bored! And horny!" ,you whine, getting behind him, placing your hand on his broad shoulders.

Placing your hands on his broad shoulders, you whisper in his ear, cheshire cat-smile on your face, "If you could do…" you place a soft peck against his neck," something…" peck, "to keep me entertained.." another peck, "while I wait…".

He lets out a sigh, knowing what your intentions were, but he caves in anyway, "baby, you can sit on my cock while I finish this paperwork, how does that sound?", he offers, leaning back on his chair. 

"Terrific" you say while unbuttoning your blouse, and sliding it over your arms. No bra in sight, your big breast in full display for him.

Seojin looks at you with hungry eyes, "god, you are so hot." He pulls you gently by your wrist, bringing you close to him. "Do you need me to prep you, love?" your husband taking one breast on his mouth, tongue flicking against your nipple. 

"No need Jinnie, I’m so wet already…" you say, unzipping your black midi skirt, the fabric pooling at your feet. You were not wearing any underwear. You grab his hand, inviting to feel for himself.

He inserts one finger inside your needy pussy making you moan, feeling your juices covering his digit. "You are such a dirty girl, going around my office with no underwear". Your pussy clenches around his finger. "Bet that’s why you are so wet" he coos, pumping his finger inside you a few times before taking it out, leaving your pussy clenching around nothing.

His hands go to his suit pants, pulling them down to his knees along with his black briefs, freeing his semi-hard cock. Just the thought of you walking around his building with no underwear makes his cock stiffen. You take his shaft in your hand and after a few pumps, it was hard and ready for you.

You sit on his lap, back against his, while he guides his cock inside your needy hole, rubbing the tip against your wet folds. "Oh god… so good", you moan at the feeling of his huge cock entering your pussy. "No matter how many times we fuck, I just love being stretched by your dick", you say, enjoying the feeling of being so full.

"My beautiful wife loves keeping my dick warm, huh? What a lucky man I am" he says, planting a kiss on your bare shoulder, "now be a good girl and lemme finish this, so we can go home and make some babies, yes?" he demands, giving your asscheek a quick squeeze, eyesight fixed on the boring spreadsheet again. His left hand goes to your nipple,and starts fiddling with it. 

"Mmm…keep doing that Jinnie, feels so good…" you moan, leaning back against his chest.

The feeling of having your husband playing with your sore breast it’s good, but not enough. Too horny to keep your thoughts straight, you begin to squeeze your inner walls, making excuses to wiggle around. 

"Stay still", your husband says, lowering his voice. He tugs at your nipple, making you moan. “I know what you're trying to do, you little devil” he warns, but you ignore him, clenching your walls again.

"But Jinnie I’m not doing anything!" you said mischievously, trying to hide a smile. But kept on clenching your walls.

"That’s it," Seokjin said as he lifted you from his lap, his cock leaving your aching pussy, "I’ve had enough, hands on the desk, ass up." You obey, placing your hands on the desk, leaning against it, lifting up your ass.

Being placed between his desk and the glass walls, anyone from the next building curious enough to look would be able to see the lewd scene the two of you were performing.

"You minx, you thought you were being slick, didn’t you?" he whispers and you feel his hot breath against your ear. "It’s time to show you who’s in charge.", he says, grabbing his cock by the base and giving it a few pumps.

He rubs the tip of his cock against your needy pussy. "Please love, just put it inside!" you plead.

"My wife wants to be bred, doesn’t she? Such a good girl” he coos. "I love you.” He declares as he buries himself inside your needy hole with one hard thrust, making you moan.

"Fuck! I love you!" you whimper,leaning on your elbows.

He starts pounding against your pussy, grabbing you by your hips.

"Fuck Jin, It feels so good! I feel you so deep inside me…please don’t stop!" you moan, closing your eyes in pleasure.

"Fuck, I feel your pussy clenching around my cock."

You two were so lost in the moment that neither of you noticed someone had entered Seokjin’s office and was standing next to you, observing the scene with curiosity.

"So, this is what the boss spends his time doing in his fancy office, huh?" the mysterious visitor said, looking at the situation unfolding before him.

"Shut up, Namjoon'' said Seokjin gasping for air, hips still bucking against your asscheeks, cock buried deep inside you, “we all know what you did at the Christmas party when you sneaked away to your office with that girl from accounting", your husband claps back, pushing his cock deeper into you. Even with an audience, you both were so caught up in the moment that the thought of stopping didn’t even cross your mind.

"Hi Nam" you chirp, looking at your husband’s best friend.

"Hey beautiful", your husband’s friend answers with a smile, flashing his dimples at you, "I just came to let you know that the Japanese investors have just posponed tomorrow's meeting...", said the man. The sentence was clearly directed at your husband, but his eyes were fixed on your tits, bouncing with each thrust.

"Message received. Now, if you'll excuse us, we're trying to do something important; this company needs an heir," your husband said, bending down to grab your tits with his big hands, pitching your nipples between his index and thumb. 

"Alright, I'll leave," says Namjoon, but his feet didn’t move.

Your eyes drift down to the tent that has been forming inside his trousers. A wild thought crossed your mind.

"Jinnie, can I..?" you say, motioning with your eyes towards Namjoon’s boner.

"Oh, hell no!" he yells, stopping his pounding, but not taking his cock out.

"He cannot leave like that!" you laughed, "poor guy is going to get arrested for public indecency!".

Namjoon just stood there, watching as the lover’s quarrel took place.

"Alright, but it's just this once," your husband says, starting again to pump into your pussy at a slow pace, "You know I cannot say ‘no’ to you", he says with a smile on his face.

"I love you" you said cheekily.

"Yeah, yeah."

You looked at Namjoon, "would you take out your cock for me, Joon?" you said, giving him the puppy eyes, "I’m quite busy here", you say.

"On it, gorgeous", he said diligently, sliding his black suit pants down to his knees, black briefs following them. Big cock springing free, you couldn’t keep your glistening eyes away from it, amazed by the size. It was different from Seokjin’s. Not longer, that was a given – your husband has the longest cock you ever had -, but it was on the thicker side.

Namjoon grabs his cock by the base and rubs the tip against your lips. You take your tongue out and start giving small licks around the head, going slowly down to the base. Your husband’s best friend lets out a pleasure moan.

You put the tip inside your lips, liking the tip with your tongue.

"Fuck, she’s so good, hyung" he states, grabbing handful of your long hair, "her mouth is amazing."

"Yeah" he says, looking down at you. "My pretty wife gives the sloppiest blowjobs, right?". You mumble in response, mouth too full of cock to be able to articulate any word.

Namjoon’s hips start to swiftly buck against your face. You notice how much he’s restringing himself. And so does your husband.

"Are you going to let Namjoon fuck that pretty mouth of yours?" he coos, slowing down his thrusts. “Show him how good you suck cock?"

Humming in response, you relax your jaw, taking the full length inside your mouth. Immediately Namjoon starts fucking your mouth, right hand still on your hair.

"Hyung, can I?" he asks.

"Mmm… I guess you can" your husband says. You don’t know what they are talking about until you feel his fingers leaving your tits, and another set of - never felt before -  fingers on you. "Her tits are the best, feel them for yourself."

"Fuck yes, I always though how good they’d feel" says as he feels the weight of your breasts with his hands. "So soft...so big they can barely fit in my hand" says, as he starts pitching your nipples between his fingers.

The feeling of having your husband plugging you with his cock behind you, and his best friend’s cock filling your mouth and abusing your sore nipples was too much to handle. The familiar pressure building in your abdomen, your aching pussy clenching around Seokjin’s shaft.

"She’s going to cum, she’s milking my cock so hard" Seokjin says, pumping hard, "keep doing it Joon'' he demands, as he leans on your back, his hand reaching for your needy clit. "You are doing so well, love, fucking me so good while sucking my best friend."

You moan, feeling so full on both ends. Pleasure becomes almost unbearable, you reach your orgasm between cries of pleasure.

"Fuck I’m close" whines Namjoon, hardening the grip on your breast. "Where do-?", he asks, as he starts to get his dick out of your mouth.

"Don’t move" orders seokjin. "You can cum in her mouth, she loves swallowing cum, don’t you, love?" he asks you, even though he already knows the answer. You do.

You hum in aproval, and keep liking Namjoon's tip with your tongue. Lifting one hand from the desk, you start fiddling with his balls.

"I’m cumming, f-fuck!" moans Namjoon, leaning back his head with pleasure. Hot spurts of cum filling your mouth.

"Swallow. Everything" Seokjin commands, and you are happy to obey, swallowing every bit of cum. "Good girl" he praises.

Namjoon flicks your nipple one last time, before taking his cock out of your mouth. “That was amazing, thank you beautiful”, says the man while pulling his pants and briefs up. You smile at him.

"Good luck with the heir thing!" was heard as Seokjin's partner closed the office doors.

"No more interruptions, my love. It's time for us to get serious," says Seokjin, slowing the pace of his thrusts and taking his cock out of your pussy.  

"W-what?", You whine at the feeling of being empty, turning back to him. "What are you doing?!"

He grabs you by the hand, leading you to the couch. “Dirty girls like you don’t get my cum just like that, they need to earn it” he says, plumping himself there.

"Now ride me like the good girl you are" he orders, palming his naked thighs. "Show me how bad you want to be stuffed with my cum", he demands with a cocky smile adorning his beautiful plump lips.

You straddle him, grabbing his cock by the base and guiding it inside your pussy again, rubbing the tip up and down your wet slit. “Mmm, you feel so good”, you moan, closing your eyes. "I love you so much" you declare.

You gasp, sinking down on his long shaft, the change of position allowing you to feel him even deeper. "I feel so full, so stuffed" you moan, starting to rock your hips.

"You enjoy being full of cock, don’t you?" he groans, hands grabbing the flesh of your hips.

"Yes, I love your cock it’s so big, filling me so good…" you whine, pleasure becoming almost unbearable.

"I wanna see those big tits bounce, ride me faster" he demands, urging you to speed up your movements. You lay your hands on his chest, using them as leverage.

"Fuck, your pussy fills so good", your husband moans, sitting up and taking one nipple in his mouth. "I can't wait until these pretty tits are big, filled with milk" he whispers, his hot breath against your needy flesh."You'd like that, yeah?"

"Seokjin, fuck, I’m close", you whimper. The feeling of his hipbone gracing your clit with every move taking you close to your release.

He releases your nipple, leaving your tit glistening with saliva.

"“Such a good girl, riding me like that. I love watching you ride me" ,he praises. "I’m close too." he says as his hips start bucking to meet yours.“ Fuck I’m gonna cum."

"Seokjin!" you whine, "Fuck!", your orgasms taking over you.

"I’m cumming, fuck I’m gonna fill you so good, I love you so much" he groans. "Don’t stop baby, I’m cumming" he announces as you keep bouncing on his cock.

You feel his warm sperm filling you, hot spurts coating your walls, and lean to kiss him.You stay in that position for a few moments, indulging in your kiss.Until you feel his cum starting to run down your inner thighs.

"Oh, shit" you say, stepping out of his lap and sitting next to him. He looks at you, and to your surprise, he collects all the cum that had spilled from your pussy, "we cannot let even one bit go to waste," says, plunging you with his fingers. "Mmm… yeah" you moan.

Once you have collected yourselves, your husband says "now, get dressed, we are going home for round 2".

[dhoranbolt]

Devilish

a/n: Happy (late) Valentine's! I suck at time management this was supposed to be out like a week ago lmao. Brought to you by that one Sukuna art, Fleabag, the songs Church/Devilish by Chase Atlantic, and really just my priest kink in general, yeah.

Disclaimer - I am not super religious forgive me if none of this makes sense lmao idk

Friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!

Bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic ily ma'am as always you keep me sane 🥹💙

Pairing: priest!Sukuna x fem!reader

cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, priest kink, degradation, reader is called good girl, oral (female receiving) unprotected sex, cream pie, dirty talk

Word count: 5.7k

She’s seen him around the coffee shop she frequents every once in a while. ‘Gorgeous’ might be an understatement – maybe ‘sculpted by the gods’ would be a more accurate description.

He’s tall, muscular, from what she can tell under his loose-fitting tee and jeans. She swears she’s not gawking, but with the tattoos that line his face and arms, so intricate yet simple, his fluffy pink hair, could anyone really blame her for staring a second too long?

He’s so breathtaking, she might just be showing up to the coffee shop more often than she used to just in the hopes of glimpsing him a little longer. Maybe in a different t-shirt, maybe in a suit– okay stop.

She’s decided to take a seat while she waits for her order to be called out, not having paid particular attention to who from the list of regulars she sees strewn about the shop.

“Order for Father Kuna!” She huffs a small laugh out as the barista calls the name with such a straight face, and then pink hair is blocking the view. Her breath catches in her throat the moment he turns around to walk back to his table with a grin, and their eyes meet. Her heart jumps into her throat, but the moment is only that- a moment, and then he’s moving out of her view, back to the table of other men laughing as he rejoins their group.

She chances a look that way to see a man with long black hair, and another with short white hair. She looks away before any of them can feel her eyes on them. It was enough that he was so attractive, but all three of them?

It’s not the first time she’s seen him smile, but it is the first time he’s looked at her, smile widening as they lock eyes.

–

Granted, it’s only Tuesday, this whole week has been one inconvenience after another, and her visit to the coffee shop is not an exception. In her rush to find caffeine, she’d neglected to bring her wallet with her. So, imagine her surprise when she moves to pull it from her purse and pay, only to notice it missing.

She’s huffing as she frantically looks through the bag again. The cashier in front of her looks bored, like this is probably not the first time this exact situation has taken place today, and if the world could just open up and swallow her whole right now, that would be great–

“I can pay, if you can’t find your wallet.” A voice calls from behind her, and if her cheeks weren’t already red from embarrassment at her current situation, they would be now.

Turning to look at the owner of the voice, she’s met with an abdomen, and as she follows it up, black tattoos come into view, and so does pink hair, and are his eyes red–

“Oh, please no, it’s fine I’ll just–” He laughs, and she feels like every inconvenience in her life could just melt away at the sound.

“I insist. Besides, what kind of good Samaritan would I be if I left a damsel without the caffeine she looks like she might break down without?” Her face scrunches up at his comment, but before she can question it, he’s stepping past her to order his own drink and pay.

“I was joking, by the way. About the caffeine comment. I’m sorry if it came across rude, you just looked a little you could have used a laugh. Long week?” She laughs and nods as they wait off to the side for their drinks.

“The longest. And thank you for paying, really you didn’t have to, but I appreciate it, nonetheless.” He grins again and her heart might actually jump out of her chest at just how painfully gorgeous this man is.

“It’s no issue, I like helping people where I can.”

“Well, I’m going to pay you back after this, just so you know.” He chuckles and shakes his head.

“There’s no need, we’ll say I just did it out of the kindness of my heart and leave it at that.”

“I don’t like feeling like I owe people.”

“Then don’t feel that way.” She lets out an exasperated huff as she looks up at him, but he’s grinning down at her again.

“Okay fine, fine. How about this? How about you can pay me back, by meeting me… Here.” He says as he scribbles an address out for her on a napkin. He hands it over, and she takes it with a raised brow, looking at the unfamiliar street name and number.

“You want me to bring your money to an address I’ve never been to before?” And there’s a sparkle in his eyes as he looks down at her.

“I don’t even know you.”

“Sure you do,” he says with a nod, continuing on, “I’m Sukuna, the devilishly handsome coffee shop patron who doubles as your knight in shining armor for today.” She laughs as he grins.

“Okay, well, what makes you think you know me?” And he pretends to think for a minute.

“Well lets see, I’ve seen you around this little shop long enough to know that you’re a woman of your word.”

“How, this is the first time we’ve ever exchanged words.” She scoffs another laugh.

“Oh so you have noticed me around then?” And anything she says next would give away the fact she did notice him around, so her jaw opens and closes silently as she debates on what to say next.

“I-” And she’s saved by the barista interrupting her derailed train of thought.

“Order for Ryomen!” He moves to the pickup bar, taking the two drinks in hand and walking back to her.

“Meet me there tonight, seven fifteen.” And she’s still trying to register what’s even really happening as he hands her the cup.

“What is this like a date?” The words leave her mouth before she can stop them, and she bites her tongue as he chuckles.

“Yeah, something like that. Just come, then consider your drink paid for.” And how could she say no to him?

“Okay sure,” she laughs nervously, “I’ll be there, Sukuna.” And she savors the way his name sounds, rolling off her tongue.

“I’m looking forward to it, enjoy your drink.” He says with a smirk, before leaving her in the coffee shop. Sitting down at a nearby table, she pulls out her phone to look up the address she’d just agreed to meet a semi-total stranger at, and when it loads on her map she’s left even more confused than before – it’s the address to a church.

–

She’s sitting in the parking lot of the church, staring at the doors in contemplation. She’s not very religious, but the curiosity of finding out just what he could possibly be asking her here for, is why she’s making her way to said doors once the first few groups of people pass. She laughs to herself at the mental image of the church setting her ablaze the second she steps in.

Looking around at everyone sitting down, she’s searching for pink hair, but doesn’t see it. For church on a Tuesday night, the place is almost packed. She barely finds a seat with breathing room from the sea of faces around her.

‘It is only eight past seven though, maybe I’m just early.’ She thinks, trying to calm her rising nerves. What is she even doing here? It was so easy for a handsome stranger to coax her into following him to some random church, surely this was not the stellar survival instinct of someone who doesn’t get serial murdered.

The minutes tick by, and she’s about to just get up and leave, mortification starting to settle at the fact she believed he would even show up, when a familiar voice gathers all attention to the front of the room, and she freezes.

What exactly is she supposed to make of the sight before her? Black tattoos, pink hair, muscular body, covered up in black clothing, complete with the white tab collar. If the building wasn’t going to set her on fire before, it surely would now.

“Good evening, everyone. For those of you that are joining us for the first time tonight, I’m Father Ryomen.”

He’s looking out into the crowd as he speaks, eyes scanning the rows of people for her. When his eyes land on her, her breath catches in her throat, shivers running through her entire body.

‘There is no way in hell that I am horny in church right now.’ But there is a way, and his lip is currently curling up at the corner as he looks at her.

So, she sits for the next hour and a half, listening to the sound of his voice as he goes on through his sermon, not retaining anything except for how smooth his voice sounds, booming off the walls. He gives his closing words, and everyone around her begins to get up. Some filter out, most stay back to chat with him, and she decides to wait until there is no longer a line leading up to him.

The last big group of people finish up, and she’s finally had ample time to process the image before her as she makes her way toward him against the leaving crowd.

“You made it.” He says with a warm smile, and her stomach twists.

“I won’t lie, I thought you were joking still when I realized it was a church. So, a priest, huh?” He laughs with a nod.

“Forgive me, father, if I didn’t take you for the type.” Sukuna smirks down at her, and for a second, she swears there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. It’s gone just as soon though, and she chalks it up to the lighting.

“Most people don’t, with the tattoos and all. I don’t mind, though. I use it as a way to show it is not our place to cast judgment upon others. But services are over, please, just call me Sukuna.”

“How very religious of you, Sukuna.” She hums.

“And what about you, then?”

“Honestly? I’ve never been very religious.” She shrugs, ‘but I can see why the people at this church would be’.

“And yet I talked you into coming? Surely that’s got to mean something.” He jokes as he rests a hand on her arm for a second.

“It does, if I’m not mistaken, my drink is now paid for in full.”

“Hah.” He fake laughs, and the sound makes her stomach flutter as she looks around.

“I should probably get going though, I think we’re the last two here.” She notes, seeing the fact everyone else has filtered out of the church, before looking back up at him.

“Why don’t you stay with me and lock up, I want to show you something.” Conscious of the fact she still doesn’t really know him, she raises an eyebrow at him, searching his face for any ill-intent.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise. I don’t bite, if that’s what you’re worried about.” And she doesn’t sense anything bad about him, his words seem genuine. There’s something about him though, she can’t quite place. It doesn’t set off alarm bells, but it piqued her interest, making her stomach knot in anticipation.

So, she follows him. Chatting about nothing in particular as he tidies around, and they lock up the church for the night.

“You know, I would have never in my wildest dreams, guessed priest.” He threw her a smile.

“So what did you dream about me then?” Her cheeks burn, and she busies herself with the now very interesting chip in her nail polish as she flounders for a response. But he hooks his finger under her chin, grabbing her attention.

“Hey, I’m kidding.” He says, leaning down to catch her eye, and her heart stops. She’s not sure what she’s doing as she stares back into scarlet eyes, but the air around them changes. Suddenly, it’s thick with desire, so thick she could almost choke on it. And she can feel the gap between them slowly closing- he licks his lips, eyes glancing down at her own for just a second.

“C’mon, we’re not done yet.” He says softly, before pulling away. Her head is swimming, was she just about to kiss the hot coffee shop priest inside the church, no less? But she doesn’t dwell, he’s already moving to the other end of the hall, and she’s quick to catch up.

“It’s usually one of the other two fathers and myself,” he explains as he moves through the church, checking doors and tidying up as he goes. “unfortunately they’re both out this week.”

“And that leaves poor Father Ryomen to take care of the church all by himself?” She teases, and he scoffs.

“They’re unreliable as it is. Though the current company isn’t an undesirable exchange.” He winks at her, and not for the first time tonight, she wonders why he’s called her here.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“To repay your drink from earlier.” She rolls her eyes with a smile.

“That is so not why you dragged a stranger to your church.”

“Why do you think I dragged you here then, hmm?” He whispers, eyes slipping down to her lips again before searching her face.

“And I already told you, we aren’t strangers.” As he says it, it really does feel true. She doesn’t feel out of place next to him, doesn’t feel like she shouldn’t be here, even if this is the first time she’s stepped into a church in years. She takes his shift in conversation and runs with it, not answering his previous question. The thought he’d brought her here for anything other than to listen to him preach was starting to take hold, and she’d rather not read the room wrong and tell him what she was really thinking.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been to church, I thought maybe I’d be struck down the moment I made it inside.” She laughs, stepping past the door he holds open for her into a new room.

“Have you ever done confession before?” He asks, moving to refill the holy water.

“Can’t say that I have, but I get the gist of it.”

“Enlighten me.” He’s glancing at her with a stern look on his face as he caps the bottle.

“You sit on one side, us sinners sit on the other.” and at that he cracks a smile, chuckling.

“Keep going, you’re on the right track.”

“And, they tell them to you and you forgive them on god's behalf.” He shakes his head, still smiling.

“Want to give it a go?” She looks at him with an arched brow, and this time she laughs.

“You did this on purpose didn’t you, paid for my drink to get me into a booth. I’m almost positive that falls under coercion, y’know.”

“Oh c’mon, just try it. Don’t you trust me?” And there it is again, that mischievous glint in his eyes that makes heat pool in her lower stomach. She bites her lip.

“No I trust you just fine Sukuna, I just-” But he’s placing a hand at the small of her back, leading her to the booth at the front of the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to wash you from years of sin.” He whispers as he leans down to her ear, and a shiver runs through her.

“You’re joking-”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” And he’s reaching over her to slide the curtain aside, motioning for her to sit.

“I don’t think-”

“Then don’t. Be a good girl, have a seat.” Her stomach flips at his words, and there’s that smirk again. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her. What could humoring him hurt? She’s moving, brushing past his reach to sit on the hard wood. He gives her a nod, closing the curtain.

“I’ll be right on the other side, then I’ll talk you through it.” 'I bet you would' and the words are flashing in her mind before she can stop them. Maybe five hours ago, before she knew he’d sworn himself to a life of celibacy and Jesus, his hands all over her had been attainable. But now? This just felt like torture- and yet here she was. Being a good girl for him, and sitting in his booth.

She chews her lip, shifting her thighs together.

“Nervous?” He asks, hearing the noise. She stops moving, shame washing over herself. Not only was she trying to relieve some of the tension between her legs in a church- Sukuna could hear it.

“Y-yeah, something like that.” She laughs, putting her hands to her face.

“You have nothing to worry about. Sinning is innately human, that’s why you come to me.” And did she really come to him? Certainly not for this, but again, here she was. When he realized she wasn’t going to speak up again, he continued.

“Let’s start off with this, just say what you can read off the little plaque there.”

“Sukuna-”

“Aht aht,’ he cuts her off “I’m Father, in the booth, little one.” Heat pools between her legs at his tone. It’s playful but firm, and she can’t help the way she’s biting her lip to not make a sound. She follows his instructions, and- this feels ridiculous, what are they doing exactly? Why is she still doing it?

“What are they?”

“I don’t,” she wracks her brain for an answer. Being here in the first place, premarital sex, lusting for a priest, lusting for said priest while in the church.. The list was long, and she wasn’t sure saying it aloud would make the dull ache she was currently feeling any better.

“Don’t be shy now.” And he says now like he knew something she didn’t, about what was really going on here.

“I’ve watched Twilight.” It’s the first thing to come to her mind that doesn’t elude to the fact she’s going home to stuff a dildo into her aching walls while she thinks about him tonight. The answer catches him off guard, and he chuckles. Turning to the wicker wall dividing them. She can’t physically see him looking at her, but she can feel his eyes on her through the divider.

“Twilight, really?” Her cheeks turn pink, and she looks right back at him.

“Look I read it was like, devil worship according to the church in some article, okay?” He shakes his head with a smile.

“The woman who I met in the coffee shop just doesn’t strike me as the type to watch vampire movies, is all.” He teases.

“Oh like you’ve never watched a single fantasy movie.” He’s quiet now, and she blinks.

“… Not a single one, ever? Isn’t lying a sin, Father?” She challenges.

“We should stick to the topic at hand, sinner.” Her jaw drops and she scoffs in disbelief.

“Okay, well, the next one is that I have tattoos.” She can just imagine the look on his face right now.

“That’s a common one.”

“I’m still surprised they let you, with the tattoos.” She notes, smoothing out her dress over her thighs.

“I can be very convincing, when I need to be.”

“What is that like code for something?”

“My charm helps, even the little old ladies got over them when I flashed a nice smile.”

“I’m sure you’re very popular with all the grandmas.” She laughed.

“Not as popular as Father Gojo, but he’s always been the type to flirt with most things that have legs, regardless of age.” And he has to keep from rolling his eyes or talking any further down on the white haired man.

“I thought flirting was like, forbidden in your religion.”

“Not necessarily forbidden. frown upon, sure, side-eyed possibly.” She could live with side-eyed, hell she could live with frowned upon too. She wasn’t the one that took an oath of never sticking her dick in someone else. But she was the one that decided she wanted a priest of all people, to stick their dick in her. That wasn’t much better for her in the long run though.

“I think that about covers all my transgressions up to this point. Hey, does it still work if I confess to something I eventually will do? I think that’s a much better way to run this whole thing.” Sukuna chuckles, she’s definitely warmed up to being here with him, he can tell in the way she speaks so freely.

“That covers everything huh? Sure you’re not missing anything?”

“Like what?”

“How about, ’I’ve been eyeing up a priest for the past month now’.”

“I- what?” Her voice catches in her throat, jaw dropping and face burning. This visit had just taken a left turn, there was no way he’d just said that.

“Go on, say it. Unless of course, I’m wrong? Just remember, lying is a sin.” She can hear the smirk in his voice, but he doesn’t stop.

“Maybe, ‘I’m so turned on I can’t even sit still’.” Her breath catches in her throat- how could he have known that.

“Or how about, ‘I’ve even made a priest question where his loyalties lie’.” Her body was hot, a fire growing in the pit of her stomach. She takes a shallow breath, mouth feeling dry. She was going to have to answer him at some point, situational whiplash or not. She might as well try to level the playing field while she was at it,

“I’ll own up to mine, but not yours.” He chuckles, and it’s deep, ringing in her ears.

“Perhaps we should switch sides of the booth then.” Listening to a hot priest tell her just how into him she was, wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined tonight going. But when she really thought about it, what other way could tonight have gone?

She heard him shifting on his side, before the curtain was being drawn back. And her handsome, well put together priest, was no longer looking quite so put together anymore.

His hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it, shoulders moving in sync with his breathing as he gripped the side of the booth.

“Lust is a sin too- but sometimes I just can’t help myself.” She swallowed hard at his words, frozen in place as she stared up at him, red eyes burning into her.

“I can always get on my knees, ask god's forgiveness afterwards.”

“Sukuna…” And she’s watching him slowly sink to the floor before her. Even as she looks down at him, she doesn’t get the feeling that she’s the one in charge of this situation. He moves forward, caging her against the back of the booth, his face inches away.

He looks so different from what she normally sees at the coffee shop; lips twitching up in a smirk as he reaches over to caress her cheek. He certainly doesn’t look anything like a priest, let alone a respectable one. He looks devilish, like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to get her here. And she can’t say it’s not exactly where she wants to be.

He leans closer to pull her into a kiss. The first one is slow, tentative, even though they’re both so clearly worked up. Pulling back to look her in the eyes he searches them, before they both crash their lips together.

“Mmm- wait- wait!” She can barely get the words out against his mouth, pressing her hands against his chest. He pulls back, looking at her in concern that he’d over stepped.

“What about- what if someone sees us?” The concern on her face that someone would catch them doing this, and not the fact that they’re still going to, is so cute of her.

“We locked the doors, didn’t we?” He grins and lets out a breathless laugh as the realization crosses her face. The son of a bitch planned this whole thing. He dips back in to claim her lips again, hands traveling down her sides to her ass, sliding her to the edge of the seat.

“From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew you’d be the reason.” He’s pressing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, anywhere he can reach.

“What?” She breaths, not really hearing him as her eyelids flutter. She’s too wrapped up in the whole situation, in how soft but firm his palm feels against her face as she leans into his touch. How wrong but right it feels for him to touch her, even just like this.

“Knew I’d stumble,” His thumb traces her bottom lip, tugging it down, and she opens her mouth instinctively. He’s using the grip on her jaw to turn her face to the side, planting kisses below her ear as she shutters, whining at the feeling.

“It’s like you knew, walking into a church wearing a dress. Walking into my church, wearing that dress. Did you wear it because you caught me staring a little longer when you would?” He’s rough, pressing his lips along her neck, across her chest, sucking, biting his way further down her body.

Her head is spinning. This was wrong, wasn’t it? But the fact it was wrong only turned her on more. She’d never wanted, needed, someone to fuck her so badly before. His hands are everywhere, kneading her chest, pinching at her hardening nipples.

“I asked you a question.” Sukuna’s still pinching at her bud, and she can barely concentrate enough to whimper a ‘yes’.

“Yes what?”

“Yes… Yes… I wore it just for you.” He sucks his teeth with a grin.

"Be a good girl and keep your eyes on me, I want to see them.” He pulls away from her and slips further down, running his hands from her knees up her thighs, pushing her dress up as he does. She’s instinctively parting her legs, letting him ghost his lips up the inside of her thigh. Sukuna presses his thumb against the wet spot on her panties, looking up to see her squirming closer as he does.

“Patients is a virtue, sweetheart.” He warns as he drags the lacy fabric down, discarding it off to the side. She huffs with a pout,

He presses his thumb to her clit, rubbing slow circles as she twitches below him.

He rubs a finger through her slick folds, slowly pushing into her. It's easy, she's so wet, whining for him so needily, and he's already working a second one in.

"Eyes on me, you're going to look at me while I make you cry." She could finish right here, he was so calm yet demanding. Scissoring his fingers inside of her he moved his thumb, dropping his mouth over her clit as he sucked.

Her thighs are fighting to close against him as he slides his fingers into her, tongue moving in slow circles. It's cramped in the booth, but Sukuna still finds the space to use his arms to hold her legs open. She's biting her lip so hard as she watches him, body tense. Her grip on his hair is tight, and she doesn't know if she's trying to pull him closer or push him away as the pleasure builds in her abdomen.

Sukuna doesn't stop as he feels every part of her clench, her body rigid and she takes everything he's giving her. He's sucking as he moves his tongue just a little faster, fingers sliding in and out of her slick cunt as he curls them inside of her. Her back arches, legs shaking as her walls clamp down on his fingers, pulsing as her orgasm washes over her. She's gripping his pink hair, trying as hard as she can to keep her eyes on him as he works her through it.

He's watching her with determination, listening to her cry his name, as his cock strained in his pants. With a few more shallow pumps of his fingers he pulls out and she whines.

"Greed is a sin too, sweetheart." He says as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. She breathes in softly as she watches, the low grown leaving his mouth making her stomach flip.

"Taste divine, I'd keep you here for hours if I could." He moans, pressing his mouth to her glistening cunt as he lapped her clean. She cried out at the over stimulation, hands flying to his head, trying to push him away. He simply takes both her wrists in his hand, holding them at bay.

"Try to stop me again, and it'll be a long night for you in this booth." He warns, pulling back to look at her. A rush floods her body at the thought, and he's leaning up to kiss her again. She's eager to return it, lacing her fingers through the hair at his nape.

Sukuna pulls her up on shaky legs, turning them so he can sit down instead, pulling her to straddle him. He presses her down over his clothed bulge, grinding up into her as he pulls away.

"You gonna be a good girl and have a seat?" She whines, grinding right back down onto him with a nod as she runs her hands down his chest, fumbling with his belt. He rubs his hands up and down her sides as she works, whimpers of frustration falling from her lips as she works on his pants.

"Patients is still a virtue." He hums, kissing the side of her neck. She can feel how thick he is even over his pants, but she's not ready for just how thick he actually is when she works him out of his clothes. Her jaw drops with a gasp as she runs her thumb over his slit, already dripping with precum. Sukuna hisses, hand flying down to grip her own. 

"I said sit." He says, gripping her hips to lift her over him.

"You're so-"

"I'll fit, don't worry." He soothes as he moves her, rubbing his head between her folds a few times before slowly pulling her down. Her hands fly to his shoulders, gripping tight as he slowly stretches her out, making room for himself as he breaks her open over him.

"Sukuna, Sukuna!" She whimpers.

"You're doing so well, look at you." He praises, brushing his thumb over her cheek. She doesn't think she can take anymore, and yet her walls are practically sucking him further in, begging for more. God no one's ever felt like this before, he filled every space inside of her.

And then the back of her thighs are flush against his own, as he slowly rocks into her.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He coos, and she shakes her head, mind already hazy from the pleasure.

"No." She whimpers, and rolls her hips with a cry.

"Fuck you're so much." She sobs, body shaking.

"Yeah? But you're going to take it." And he's pulling out, only to slam back up into her. She screams, nails digging into his arms as he holds her. He sets a steady pace, and after the first few thrusts she starts to move too, bouncing herself over him, pushing him further into her tight heat everytime their hips meet.

Sukuna pulls the top of her dress down, sucking a nipple into his mouth. All she can do is moan and grind harder down into him. Looking down between them she watches as he disappears into her, and it should be terrifying, just how much of him there is- yet she's accommodating every thick inch. And then she sees it when he pulls away from her chest- the bulge in her lower abdomen. She takes a shaken breath, and presses down on it.

“Oh my god fuck!” she whines, throwing her head back as her legs shake.

“When I’m this deep in you, the only God you should be crying for is me.” Sukuna growls, fingers digging into her sides to hold her in place as he fucked up into her. She clenched around him at his words and he grinned.

“Oh she liked that, did she?”

“Sukuna-! Fuck I’m gonna cum!” She cried, nails digging into his arms. He drank in the way she looked, jaw dropped in a silent moan, lip quivering. He wasn’t going to last much longer either, with the way her walls fluttered around him, sucking him deeper with every thrust.

“Where should I-”

“Fuck- inside, I don’t care just please-” She was shaking her head, rolling her hips into him as she babbled. Sukuna gripped her chin, forcing her attention on him.

“Say it again, like you mean it. Like you want it.”

“Please Sukuna, finish inside me. Wanna feel you inside me!” Her walls clamped down hard around him as she cried. He lifted a hand to wrap it behind her head, pulling her forehead against his own.

“There it is, take it. Be a good girl and cum for me.” He growled, watching as she came undone before him; jaw dropped in a silent moan as she pulsed around him. Sukuna fucked her through her orgasm, sending him right over the edge into his own. She whined at the feeling of him painting her insides in hot spurts, grinding further into him as they both pant.

It was quiet, aside from their breathing as they came down from the high, lustful haze being left behind. She cleared her throat, realizing they’d have to clean up the mess that was going to drip out of her.

“Well…” She started, beginning to pull back when Sukuna stopped her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The question takes her aback as she stutters for an answer.

“I just- I thought- the mess…?” He grins lazily up at her, swiping a thumb over her bottom lip.

“Did you really think I brought you here just for one fuck?”

“Technically you brought me here over coffee.” She giggled, leaning into his palm.

“Leave your wallet at home more often then.” He demands, and she swallows hard, gasping as he bucks up into her again.

Tags: @saiki-enthusiast @alice-smutthoughts @idktbhloley @rezitio @matchat3a @mo0nforme @bleach-your-panties @fateisnotafactor @lov3ly-bunny @antishadow2021 @xo-evangeline @ackachii @tiredravenette @carpioassists @yoongislatinagff @unoriginalidea @i-likebread @squishybabei @emyyy007 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @kokushibosgirl @wishandluck @kimchi-zaks @kyriekurokami @not-brionnne @andic137 @tang3r1n @mammon-s @yuujispinkhair

[earthyaries]

How you flirt based on your 5H

The 5th house is ruled by the sun & the sign of Leo; it rules over pleasure, our relationship to children (& “baby-making”), self-expression, creativity, the arts, what we consider fun, & romantic flings. The 5H represents how we express ourselves-romantically + creatively. Using the 5H, we are able to see how we & others flirt.

Aries 5H: You make the first move. You’re direct. You aren’t afraid to ask for their number or tell them how good they look. You don’t hint. You’ll be the one to break the ice, & others find your confidence attractive.

~ Figures w an Aries 5H: Justin Bieber, Kim Kardashian, Adriana Lima, Jhene Aiko, + Hailey Bieber

Taurus 5H: You make them swoon over you. You use your looks + material possessions to gain your crush’s attention. You cater yourself to their aesthetic a bit; you might dress in a way you know they will like. You are extra thoughtful of them, you may even buy them gifts.

~ Figures w a Taurus 5H: Kylie Jenner, FKA Twigs, Christy Turlington, Jude Law, + Rebecca Ferguson

Gemini 5H: You pique their interest. You keep them guessing & never let them become bored. You ask them questions about themselves & notice the little things about them that others don’t; ppl love your charisma + good nature.

~ Figures w a Gemini 5H: Ariana Grande, Megan Fox, Mac Miller, David Bowie, + Aaliyah

Cancer 5H: You offer them solace; they feel safe w you. You often find yourself being a place of comfort for those whom you care for. More subtle in nature, your affection comes across as warm & tender.

~ Figures w a Cancer 5H: Michael Jackson, Zayn Malik, Audrey Hepburn, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, + Alicia Keys

Leo 5H: You attract them. Having the sign of Leo in its own house, you don’t have to do much to catch your crush’s attention- however, you might introduce them to your world of music, fashion, etc. if you really like them. You’re vibrant & inviting; your smile is enough to make them melt.

~ Figures w a Leo 5H: Rihanna, Heath Ledger, Gigi Hadid, Penélope Cruz, + Kendall Jenner

Virgo 5H: You do favors for them; you remember the things they like & dislike. You observe them & make them feel seen. You may offer them advice. Others appreciate your attention to detail.

~ Figures w a Virgo 5H: Miley Cyrus, Amy Winehouse, Pete Davidson, Kristen Stewart, + Pamela Anderson

Libra 5H: You charm them. You’re surprisingly forward & you use your people skills to your advantage. You know how to make someone blush. Your mannerisms are naturally flirtatious, & when you like someone you play that up.

~ Figures w a Libra 5H: Cher, Lindsey Lohan, Drew Barrymore, Jack Harlow, + Charli XCX

Scorpio 5H: You seduce them. Your eyes are very sultry, & you know how to use them; you make direct eye contact. You may run a hand thru your hair or draw attention to your lips when you know they’re looking. Others associate you w having a naturally sexy presence.

~ Figures w a Scorpio 5H: Angelina Jolie, Kanye West, Lisa Bonet, Sharon Tate, + Abel Tesfaye

Sagittarius 5H: You have fun w it. You like to tease them; joke around a bit & make them nervous. Unpredictability is key, which means you’re good at surprises. You love to keep them on their toes & wanting more. Ppl admire your lust for life + spontaneity.

~ Figures w a Sagittarius 5H: Alexa Demie, Drake, Selena Gomez, Brittany Murphy, + Audrey Plaza

Capricorn 5H: You make an effort. More traditional, you’ll put in the work to show them you like them. You’ll ask them out. Direct, but not pushy. When you like someone, you don’t mind paying the tab. Your “old fashioned” dating style is a breath of fresh air for many.

~ Figures w a Capricorn 5H: Timothée Chalamet, Bella Hadid, Keanu Reeves, Kurt Cobain, + Christina Ricci

Aquarius 5H: You make yourself accessible to them. Not usually the one to initiate, you try to make it easier for them to make a move. You will add them on all your socials, respond to their texts; you might like to talk to them over the phone a lot. They’ll catch the hint.

~ Figures w a Aquarius 5H: Beyoncé, Leonardo DiCaprio, Denzel Washington, Gia Carangi, + Idris Elba

Pisces 5H: You romanticize them. You take them as they are & see them thru caring eyes. You are gentle w them; you point out all the things you like about them & compliment them often. Ppl cherish your softness.

~ Figures w a Pisces 5H: Lana Del Rey, Frank Ocean, River Phoenix, Doja Cat, + Natalie Portman

[chrollosbm]

Sunflower Fields: a Choso Love Story Chapter Eleven

art cr: shijoula on x

You're broken from a past relationship, thinking you only deserve the worst. Choso comes along, making you realize you deserve the world and more. Will your ex-boyfriend let you go without a fight? (Choso x black!reader, yandere Choso)

Previous Chapters

pls support me on ao3, it would mean the world to me

Choso was currently standing cluelessly in a bar he’d never frequented, let alone heard of, in a pile of bodies with people he would never, ever, even associate with. The place was full of obvious college students who’d just hit the legal drinking age, or were either too young to be in a bar in the first place. The bouncer seemed sketchy to begin with, barely checking IDs as he chatted up younger women who were barely adults. He felt gross, gross to be standing in here as the air was muggy, it smelled like it hadn’t been cleaned in ages, and the music was absolutely terrible. 

But, he was doing this for you. This small, crowded establishment that was driving him insane was right across the street from the far more luxurious club you were in. Thank God. He felt like he would have a heart attack if he knew you were in attendance of this low class bar, knowing you were way better than this.

Choso couldn’t even spend five minutes in this setting before he realized he couldn’t take much longer, so with great effort, he pushed through the sea of bodies and made his way outside, to the front of the trashy spot where he found a vacant bench to sit on. He sighed as he sat down, legs sprawled out in a manspread position, annoyed with his plan to begin with. He could’ve just done this from the start, as he had a clear view of the club from here, although it was more risky as there was a higher likelihood of him being caught by you. He deemed it worth the risk though, as he only wanted to protect you. You would understand that, right?

A feminine voice snapped Choso from his thoughts. “Mind if I sit with you?” The voice said, and he turned his head to find a pale woman with long brown hair, dressed in club attire, a cigarette hanging from her mouth, waiting for his answer.

He simply shrugged, not bothering to change his position to make room for the stranger. He couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to anything but the surroundings of the establishment you were in. The streets were filled with loud, drunk people, the night’s lights were bright and sounds of laughter, screaming, and music filled the air. Choso hated it. He hated the amount of people, the noise, the smell, everything. Once again though, he was out here doing this for you, to stand guard, to be sure you wouldn’t come into harm whatsoever. 

The scent of cigarette smoke and vanilla filled Choso’s lungs as the strange woman sat down next to him, taking another puff of the cancer stick, the aroma surprisingly not foul smelling. He had immersed in smoking as a teen as part of his rebellious phase, only stopping because of the growing dent in his pockets due to the habit. He never picked it up again after that, as he knew it was bad for his health, and he didn’t want his younger brothers to pick up the habit as well.

A hand holding out a pack of said cigarettes was now in his view, distracting him from his surveillance on you. “You smoke?” She asked, offering him one.

Choso turned to look at her and shook his head. “Not anymore.” He answered, taking one anyway, actions contradicting his words.

The woman gave a chuckle and pulled out a lighter to light the cigarette currently hanging from Choso’s full lips, before taking one final drag of hers, tossing it carelessly in the already littered street afterwards.

“I’m Shoko.” She said, monotone laced in her voice, and Choso mentally rolled his eyes. 

Not his type. Not you. 

“And I’m not interested.” Choso responded, not caring about the clear lack of manners he was giving to this stranger that was kind enough to offer something of her possession to him, something he was currently relishing in. He could physically feel the stress lifting from his body with each inhale, suddenly feeling less tense about the entire situation. He had a full view of the entrance and exit to the club, so he would know when you left. He needed to relax. 

Her loud laugh interrupted Choso’s thoughts and he cringed, annoyed at the volume of her roar. You were the only one whose voice he loved hearing at that amplification. “Oh, relax.” The woman he now knew as Shoko’s voice was still filled with humor and he wanted to leave immediately. He didn’t want to entertain this conversation any longer. 

“I’m not trying to get into your pants. Yours has something in it that I’m not too particularly fond of.” Her face read disgust as she looked the man up and down, a smirk on her face as she reached his eyes again. 

Choso’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, suddenly feeling a twinge of guilt for his bluntness a few seconds ago. A twinge. 

“My bad.” He said, casually, exhaling the smoke from his lips with an ‘o’ shape, away from the woman’s stature, a small smirk remaining on his face from the tranquility of his old habit and the fact he’d just mistaken the woman next to him for flirting with him. It happened pretty often that he rejected others, so it was just a habit, not cockiness at all. He tossed the still-lit stick into the road, mocking Shoko’s previous action. “I’m just used to rejecting women is all.”

It was her turn to shoot her brows up in shock at his statement and she folded her arms and placed one leg over the other, bouncing it up and down, her knee-high boots moving in the air. “Cocky bastard, I see.” She let out nonchalantly, causing Choso to let out a genuine laugh at her boldness before she continued. Who the hell was this crazy woman? “I think we’re gonna be friends.” She finished with a smile and he tilted his head in confusion.

Friends? Choso didn’t really have friends, more like acquaintances, coworkers, and you. His brothers were his friends, but he knew that didn’t really count. He didn’t really trust anyone enough to have close companions, afraid that everyone ended up leaving, anyway. The man had always struggled with that part of himself, as he of course had some fear that you could leave him at some point. He of course wouldn’t let that happen, like he’d pondered before, he would die before that dilemma occurred. Choso was afraid of what he would do if you expressed or gave off any sort of disinterest in him, knowing he wouldn’t let you go, no matter what he had to do to stop you from leaving him. 

As scary as the thought was, he knew he would take drastic measures to make sure you stayed his, even if that meant corrupting some of the morals he wasn’t even sure he had. 

He needed you and you needed him. You two were going to be connected, forever.

“So, what are you doing out here all alone?” Shoko asked, calming his sinister line of thinking. Choso stared blankly at her, not sure exactly what to say. He couldn’t just outright say he was tracking you, keeping tabs on you even though you weren’t aware of his actions. That would come off as stalker-ish. Choso wasn’t a stalker, he just wanted to confirm your well-being. “I’m meeting an old friend. Although, it is getting kind of late for my liking.” She let out breezily with a sigh when Choso didn’t answer quickly enough, and he mentally sighed, knowing he wasn’t in the spotlight anymore.

He quickly composed himself at her statement before responding, taking a piece of his makeshift bang from his signature buns to twirl in his fingers, feigning nonchalance. “Oh nice. A girl?” He smirked at her and she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Boy, do I wish! Just going clubbing with one of my friends from high school. Haven’t seen him in a while and he’s been going through it because of his ex or some shit.” She shrugged. “Oh, I think that’s him now!” Her voice was filled with enthusiasm as she pointed to the familiar man walking down the street and Choso couldn’t believe his fucking luck. 

Walking only twenty feet from him, was Suguru fucking Geto. The man who broke your heart more than once, cheated on you, betrayed you, stalked you.

Suguru was stopped in front of Choso before he knew it, a cocky expression on his features, looking down at the sweet woman he was meeting for the night. “She bothering you?” He asked Choso jokingly, obviously having no idea who he was and it took every fiber in Choso’s being not to knock him out on sight. Choso was livid, he knew it by the heat inside his body, no matter how freezing it was outside, it felt like a hot summer day by the way he was sweating. His knuckles were paler than usual with the way he was clenching his fists, ready to swing at any given moment. He couldn’t though. How would he explain this to you? He just so happened to be at a bar across the street from the club he knew you would be at? No, you wouldn’t believe that for a second. You were too damn smart for your own good.

Wait a minute. How did Suguru know you were here?

“Okay then…” Choso’s eyes snapped to the man as he spoke when Choso didn’t answer, knowing his face read nothing but pure hatred from the sudden unnerving aura in the air. “Let’s go, Shoko. This guy’s a fuckin’ weirdo.” Suguru continued and Choso absolutely lost it at the man’s bravery, obviously having absolutely no clue who he was dealing with. 

Choso let out a disgusted scoff before standing to his feet quickly, choosing to land mere inches from your stalker’s face. “That’s fucking hilarious coming from you.” Choso’s words came out venomous, wicked really, as he looked him in his eyes, standing tall and proud, not caring how confused the man before him seemed.

“The fuck…” Choso heard from the bench where Shoko sat, obviously bewildered at the observation before her, head flicking from left to right. “You know my friend?” Her question was directed at Choso, who ignored her inquisition.

Suguru was clearly disoriented at the man before him’s menacing spirit, completely thrown off guard at his statement. “Yo, I don’t know who the hell you are, but back the fuck out of my face.” He moved closer to Choso, words contradicting themselves, chest equally as buff, almost touching his, with a haunting look plaguing his features, one that would’ve scared the average man. The being you were dealing with was not your average man though, Choso was a lot of things, he had a lot of positive traits that included caring, protective, kind, and intelligent, but there was a demented side to him, a side that contained vile-like behavior, vengefulness, manipulation, and acrimony. It only showed when he or a loved one was threatened or hurt, and as said before he tried to keep it under wraps, it wasn’t a side he wanted you to ever see.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Choso asked, cutting to the chase. Fuck the BS, he needed to know why he was here, about to attend the club you were currently in, celebrating your birthday. He continued when Suguru’s face quickly filled with skepticism. “You here for her? On her birthday?” Choso nodded his head across the street and not soon after, all the blood seemeed to rush from Suguru’s face.

When silence filled the air, nothing to be heard but their shallow breaths, Choso’s heaving getting louder by the second, Shoko cut in, finally seeming to catch on pretty swiftly. “Oh, you did not bring me here to help you stalk your ex-girlfriend, did you?!” She asked the gobsmacked man before Choso, who still had nothing to say. “Answer me right now, Suguru Geto!” Her voice came out, forcefully and the man she was speaking to’s jaw clenched tightly, obviously caught in his seemingly master plan.

“You her new boyfriend or something?” Suguru spat at Choso, ignoring his concerned friend who threw her arms up in defeat, before fuddling in her leather jacket to grab her pack of cigarettes, muttering something about her “friend” being shitty as usual. Choso would have to agree, maybe even taking it further to describe him as something far more cruel.

Choso smirked at him, almost laughing in the man’s face at his apparent stress. “All that matters is that you aren’t. She’s done with you. While you’re busy still pining after her, stalking her, she’s moved on, very happily at that.” Rage suddenly filled Suguru’s eyes, a burning fire seemingly in them as Choso continued, loving the way he was riling the man up with just words. 

—-- 

The scene across the street from the club you were in, completely oblivious to the situation, was a sinister one. But, you were inside, trying to have the time of your life, but seemingly not being able to for a few reasons. 

Number one: Andrea left quite some time ago. As usual, she could not handle her liquor. Before you all left the pregame at your apartment, she was already off her ass. She then proceeded to order three rounds of tequila shots, one after another, before she bolted off to the bathroom, prompting your older sister to run after your best friend, who was almost equally as drunk, but kept it under wraps with her super responsible oldest sister powers, as she called it. They didn’t spend too long in said restroom until Kento was waltzing into the establishment, an irked and distressed look covering his features. He took her home shortly after, but not before sending money for an Uber, since he was supposed to be your ride home. He sent more than needed, but you knew it was because he felt so horrible about the situation. 

Number two: Not only did your best friend get absolutely hammered, but so did your younger sister. She drank more than Andrea, at both your apartment and the nightclub, but she seemed to overestimate her tolerance, as she was currently leaning on your older sister for support, still trying to dance, without any success. 

Number three: There was something nagging in the back of your head. You didn’t know what, but since arriving, you felt…watched. It was like someone’s eyes were never leaving you and since around the time Andrea left, it got worse, making you feel almost naked. Your paranoia had driven you to search for the reason why you felt so uneasy, trying to lock eyes with the predator, but failing miserably. This was bothering you more than anything else, more than the people in your company irritating you greatly, which was a damn lot.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your older sister, your saving grace, and the only person not causing high emotion in you, Valerie, called your name in concern. You snapped your head to her to find her attempting to hold up your suddenly very drowsy younger sister, Opal, causing you to have those same powers your older sibling claimed to have, sobering up completely to help the youngest out of the club immediately. 

Today was not a good day to wear high heels, with them being at least four inches tall and skinny, making it incredibly hard to help guide the grown woman out the night spot. You managed though, with the help of a security who came to save the day. 

You were all now sitting outside on the curb, waiting for the Uber Valerie called while you were still inside, only to find out it was twenty whole minutes away. It was almost freezing outside and with your choice of attire consisting of a skimpy black dress that stopped at your mid-thigh, those heels that were open-toed, and only a fur coat that seemed to be your only intelligent choice of clothing on your body, you could not wait that long. You had half a mind to call Choso, but you knew it would probably take him that long to arrive anyway, plus he hadn’t answered any of your text messages in the past fourty-five minutes, so you assumed he was already asleep, (plus you would feel bad for taking the money Kento had so graciously given you just to not put it to good use.)

“How the hell is she in university drinking like a maniac every weekend, but can’t hold it together for a night out with us?” Valerie inquired from next to you, eyes on the scene beside her. Opal was leaning on the security guard for support, basically hugging him, with her eyes closed, ignoring his pleas for her to drink the water bottle he’d snagged from the front counter. 

It was cute really, they had only just met, but by the rose tint on the man’s cheeks, you could very well tell he was into your younger sister. At first you thought he was helping out of kindness, which he still could have been doing, but now it looked like he was doing it for something more, with him promising to remain outside with you all until your ride arrived. 

And why wouldn't he? Your sister was adorable, with her face almost an exact replica of you and your older sister's, her hair in a huge curly fro, dressed in the girliest, pinkest club attire, including her baby pink fur coat, which was the exact opposite of you and Valerie's. Valerie had chosen a warmer outfit, a tight, midi length sweater dress and high heeled boots, obviously the smarter of the three of you. Her hair was in black knotless braids, as it always was, being that it was easier to take care of since she didn't have the time to do her own hair, with her hands always in someone else's head. 

You let out a snort, wondering the same thing as your older sister. “Who knows?” You turned and shook your head at Opal, who was now drinking the water, staring up at the man who was now pleased at her actions, praising her with a smile on his face. “She better get it together before tomorrow night. I’m not stopping the party again just because the two of them can’t hold their liquor.” You finished with a roll of your eyes. It was your birthday weekend, for Christ’s sake.

Your annoyance was cut short when Opal finally spoke, but it was in a panicked tone, and not to you, but the man beside her. “What the fuck is going on over there?!” Her words were slurred, but you followed her eyesight to the scene across the street to see two men beating the shit out of eachother-well one man getting his ass beat. A screech from the woman above them was loud enough to pierce everyone’s ears in a two-mile radius. 

“Jesus Christ!” Valerie gasped next to you, covering her mouth as the man on the bottom’s face made a loud cracking sound as a fist connected to his jaw. 

Your heart raced with adrenaline at the sight before you as you got up to get a closer look, despite both of your sister’s protests. You really should mind your business, but something was calling you to the scene ahead of you, an invisible force dragging you to the commotion that was drawing a small crowd, anyway. The security guard who helped Opal was running ahead of you towards the disturbance, having to abandon your younger sister for a more pressing matter. 

You stumbled across the street, curiosity getting the best of you when you paused halfway there, to find  no one other than Choso fucking Kamo getting yanked off of a very bloody man, who still had the nerve to be talking shit after the obvious ass whooping he just caught. The top Choso’s t-shirt was torn, exposing his tattoos and his silver chain, his hair was a mess with one bun hanging from his head, while the other had seemingly fallen. His face was tomato red in comparison to his pale body, and fuck. Why did he have to look so deranged and so sexy? 

You snapped out your dirty thoughts and wanted to run over to Choso to figure out what the hell was happening, why he was fighting when you looked down to see that the man he was just hammering into the ground was no other than Suguru fucking Geto. 

Your heart felt like it stopped beating with the way it dropped to the bottom of your stomach. What is going on? Why were they fighting? Did they know each other? Who is that woman? What were they doing here? 

All of those questions were swirling through your head just as Suguru seemed to notice you, his facial expression turning from murderous to appalled, probably from your surprise appearance.

“Your boyfriend is a fucking psychopath!” He all but roared at you, looking disheveled with blood pooling from his nose and mouth and onto his neck as he attempted to get up, but falling almost immediately, causing the brown haired woman to help him up, grumbling obscenities underneath her breath. Was this his new girlfriend? 

Ugh, who cares? 

You didn’t know what to think and you weren’t sure how to feel, but for some reason the sight of Suguru on the ground, beat to a fucking pulp by Choso Kamo, pleading at your feet, lit something sinister in you. You didn’t feel angry, or disappointed, or sorrowful even. 

What you felt was pure elation. Euphoric at the fact that he was practically crying and begging you to do something about Choso who’d just given him the ass whooping of a lifetime, probably at your expense, and outright in ecstasy at the sight of Choso, only ten feet from you now, a small amount of blood drooling from his gore painted lips, silently suffering, seemingly waiting for your reaction, as he was being held back from the pathetic man under you.

You couldn’t help the sinister grin that began to creep on your face, something that should have terrified Choso, or even yourself, but it didn’t. In fact, his large toothy, amused smile followed yours, and he looked the happiest you had ever seen him.

You didn’t know if that relieved you or fucking terrified you. 

Chapter Twelve is Posted

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Flu Season.

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader (HxH).

Word Count: 1.6k.

TW: Kidnapping, Mentions of Guns, and Imprisonment.

[I have a fever. Excuse the self-indulgence.]

It should’ve been enough that you’d just been kidnapped.

Dragged into the storage closet of an art gallery you could barely afford to visit, bound and gagged and blindfolded, the barrel of a gun shoved into the notch underneath your diaphragm as a man with slicked-back hair and a woman in a wine-red suit walked you out of an obscured backdoor and into a windowless van, already stocked with haphazardly packaged paintings and sculptures. It was just business as usual, the woman had explained, as if that would make you feel any better. They’d keep you as a hostage until attention died down, sell off the stolen artwork, and drop you off on the outskirts of the nearest city, alive and unharmed. As long as you didn’t put up a fight or get on anyone’s nerves, you’d walk away just fine.

Or, mostly fine, at least. Really, you had to be the unluckiest person in the world.

It wasn’t enough that you’d just been kidnapped by some shady, hyper-violent gang of thieves.

You had to get kidnapped, then come down with a cold.

Or the flu. It might’ve been the flu. You definitely had a fever. You couldn’t take your temperature, but you could feel those tell-tale chills, the splitting headaches, the constant pull of an exhaustion no amount of sleep would’ve been able to sedate. Your throat was raw from coughing, your head pounding and your tongue permanently dry, but you’d resigned yourself to nursing the lukewarm glass of stale water you’d gathered the strength to get for yourself more than a few hours ago. You barely had the energy to stand, but it wasn’t as if you could ask your kidnappers to wait on you. They seemed begrudgingly tolerant of your presence – vaguely amused at best, mildly annoyed at worst. It was safer not to draw any attention to yourself, even if that meant suffering alone for another few days.

Another sudden chill, another knot of ache in the back of your skull. You shuddered, pulling the small pile of blankets and quilts you’d amassed that much closer. The abandoned mansion they’d chosen as their temporary lair was an awful, drafty structure – all rotting wood and dirt-caked windows and thin walls that did nothing to keep out the winter air. You’d holed yourself up in one of the countless decaying bedrooms, but even the surprisingly clean king-sized mattress offered little consolation. That, paired with the holes in the walls, the layer of dust coated over every surface, didn’t make you feel very—

Your bleary thoughts were cut off by the sound of your bedroom door creaking open, of quiet footsteps approaching the spot where you laid. You shot up on reflex, but that immediately proved to be a mistake – a jolt of pure agony racing from the nape of your neck to your temples and settling in the space just behind your eyes. Cursing under your breath, you buried your face in your hands, doing your best to block out the light and soothe the sudden pain, but you didn’t have much time to console yourself. The intruder had already reached your bedside, the plush mattress dipping under their weight as they settled into your space. You spared them a withering glance, but once again, that only seemed to make things worse.

For whatever reason, the thieves’ leader himself – Chrollo, if memory served – had seen fit to pay you a visit.

And just when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse.

You stiffened, pressed your back into the dilapidated headboard, did what you could to make yourself look small and unremarkable without giving him the impression that you were meek enough to go down without a fight (despite the fact that, if worst came to worst, you probably would). For what it was worth, he didn’t seem hostile. If anything, the expression written across his face was one of pleasant neutrality – a slight smirk paired with a distant look in his eyes, like he had a million things to do and whatever he’d come to you for barely ranked on his list of concerns. When he noticed you were looking at him, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. Rather, he only lifted the hand furthest from you, bringing a nondescript plastic bag into your line of sight and placing it in front of you gingerly, as if he was leaving a hunk of raw meat in front of some exotic beast.

It was only when you failed to react that he started to explain himself. “I heard you were sick.”

Fuck. And you thought you’d managed to fly under his radar.

“I… I think it’s just a cold.” Because colds were safer than flus, easier to recover from and only half as contagious. Because they were less likely to decide you weren’t worth the effort it’d take to keep you around if you just had a cold. “I should be alright in a couple of days, but if you think we’ll need to move before that—”

“Oh, no, it’ll be another week or so before we move on. You'll have plenty of time to recover.” He spoke casually, as if they weren’t wanted fugitives. As if you weren’t a bargaining chip for them to flaunt in front of the police if things went south. He gestured towards the bag, his grin growing just a little wider. “Let me know if I missed something. I tried for variety, but I can make a second trip if you find that your needs haven’t been met.”

Hesitantly, you took up the bag, dragging it into your lap and pulling it open. The contents consisted of what a friend might’ve brought over after you’d missed a morning lecture to a particularly bad hangover. Mineral water, tissues, brand-name painkillers and generic cough medicine. There were a few sporadic add-ons, too – chocolate bars, two bracelets with matching broken clasps and a silver wedding band, a miniature teddy bear that’d clearly been plucked off of a Valentine’s Day clearance rack, but you choose not to linger on those any longer than you had to. Honestly, you were just glad not to find any bullet casings or disembodied extremities. “One of nen’s many silver linings. Once your body surpasses a certain point, illness tends to be more of a peripheral hazard than a daily inconvenience,” he went on, as you rummaged through the bag. “I’m a little out of practice, but hopefully, this will suffice.”

You weren’t exactly sure what he was talking about, but you did your best to nod along, only letting a small portion of your confusion shine through. None of this made sense, none of this was anything you’d ever thought to prepare yourself for, but when he finished, you scrambled to respond, as eager to please as he seemed to be to soak in your praise. “Thank you. It’s perfect, I—” The air hitched in your throat, and anything you might’ve said broke down into a violent coughing fit, only somewhat stifled by the back of your hand. He was still staring at you, when you found the strength to look toward him again, still wearing that fucking smile. Something quirked inside of your chest, and you turned away from him sharply. “I appreciate it, I really do, b-but I’m not sure what’s going on, and I don’t want to disrespect the— your—”

“The Phantom Troupe,” he finished. “My Spiders.”

“Right. That. I don't know how to deal with that.” You shook your head, letting out a slight sigh. “I’m sorry, I don’t really keep up with the world of high-class art theft.”

“Oh, we steal all sorts of things. Art, antiques, the occasional organ.” He paused, then seemed to brighten, his tone taking on a kind of childlike eagerness. “A few years ago, a buyer I’m closely acquainted with was interested in amassing a collection of teeth from notable living figures. It was a dull job, but it paid well enough, and my group made the most of it. We're very versatile.”

There was another chill, this time with a source other than your smoldering fever. You wrapped your arms over your chest, shrinking into yourself, but if Chrollo cared about how reflexively you pulled away from him, he didn’t seem to think of it as a mistake that couldn’t be corrected with a breath of a laugh, a slight tap to his knee. “Come here.”

It wasn’t a question, a request, but you considered refusing for one brief, delusional second before ignoring your better judgment and moving towards him – gradually, at first, as slowly as you were able to, until you’d gotten just a little too close and he was able to lash out, to snake an arm around your waist and pull you against his chest. There was a low chuckle, a hand brought to your cheek before it was used to brush the hair away from your face. He held you like that for a long moment – tucked against him, fingers tangled in your hair, his lips ghosting over your forehead – before his grip slackened and his hand fell back to your waist, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. “Poor thing,” he muttered, his voice muffled by your skin. “You’re burning up.”

He let you go as quickly as he’d taken you up, unraveling himself from you and rising to his feet. There was a click of his tongue, a new lilt to his smile, and when he spoke, he did so with a certain lightness – as if he was playing a role he’d spent just a little too long preparing for. “I’ll make tea. Try to get some rest while I’m gone.”

You waited for him to leave, but he didn’t move, didn't look away from you. With no small amount of trepidation, you turned your back to him, lying on your side and drawing the tussled blankets over yourself.  That earned a hum of approval, but you didn’t let yourself so much as breathe until you heard his light footsteps, until the bedroom door groaned closed and you were left alone with only the impending knowledge that you wouldn’t be, for very long.

At least things couldn’t get any worse, right?

[aklaustaleteller]

Should've Known

When fate made them stumble across each other in an art shop, Y/n should've known that what was coming with Klaus couldn't be anything more than an affair because of her true identity. And yet when she fled town, Y/n hadn't expected the news of a grave mistake made by Klaus' own town to shatter her heart into so many pieces that she’d just let them lay.

Warnings - mentions of death, and a description of an intimate moment. Word Count - 1.3k

I'm so sorry but here I am, serving you guys with another two part-er (I deeply apologise) Part two should be out withing two days and eeek I'm so excited to write it! Hope you all enjoy this one until then <3

Update: You can now read part two here!

This was the second time that their eyes had locked since Y/n had entered the shop, and their mouths instinctively shared a smile once again. Klaus quite simply couldn’t stop looking at her, she was so mesmerising that he wished she didn’t keep catching him every time his eyes would drift onto her to drink in her dreamy sight. 

Her hair was half up and half down, intricate patterns designed like a labyrinth with the sinister intent to hypnotise the one looking, which Klaus very easily was. His eyes trailed down further and met with her eyes, only they were looking down at something while a small frown sat between her brows. Her nose led him lower and then his gaze landed on her mouth, on her lips that looked so pillowy and compelling, their corners lifting up in a smile making Klaus lift up his eyes with a defeated smile that gave away his realisation that he’d been caught staring again. 

She shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her mouth before she went over to the elderly man to pay him for the art supplies she’d collected. She was a piece of art herself, Klaus thought as he saw her leaving but not before passing him a last smile. 

He came back to that art shop more and more frequently then, hoping to see her there but returned home every single time with disappointment weighing his heart lower and lower into his stomach. He just wished to see her again, and again, and again. She was all that was on his mind and with her portrait beginning to lose colour in his memory, he was pathetically desperate to see her again. 

But as he went inside the shop again for the insurmountable time, Klaus’ nose caught a scent that immediately made his eyes light up. This was her fragrance and  once his gaze had lifted, it immediately landed on her already looking and very gently waving at him. 

Klaus smiled at that, focusing his attention on the floor for a bit as he tried to hide his blush and giddiness at finally seeing her again. She looked the same, if not even more alluring because of the green coloured clothing she was dressed in, the colour fading into different shades as her dress poofed and flowed down to meet the ground. 

He nodded at her, his smile not once leaving his mouth as he picked up a set of paint brushes to buy along with a paint set of which the colours fit her appearance the most – which had him staring at her again and again to make sure he wouldn’t mess up any hue. On the other end, Y/n picked a sketchbook and a set of pencils before going back to the front to pay for it. 

Klaus came out soon after her, watching as she paid and left the shop. Klaus hurried to pay for his stuff as well, rushing outside to not miss her, only to find her standing there, waiting for him with the slyest of smiles he’d ever seen. 

As if their eyes had spoken for a brief moment, Klaus’ feet began following hers down the dirt trail that led to a large field bordering a shimmering river. Neither of them uttered a single word on the way, only Y/n glancing back every once in a while to make sure Klaus was still with her. 

It was when Y/n sat herself down by the river when she looked up at him and patted the spot beside her, “come sit,” she added, her voice so soft that Klaus instantly obliged. 

“I’d like to get to know you,” she said, looking him in the eyes with the purest of looks. “Tell me, do you paint as well?” 

Klaus looked ahead of him, a smile stretching his lips as he nodded. “Yes,” he whispered, as if maintaining the peace they had surrounding them. “I don’t think I would survive if I ever stopped,” continuing, he looked back at her only to find her beginning a sketch.

But that didn’t stop her from confabulating further with him. They talked until the sun had begun setting and Y/n suggested it best that they parted ways and reached home before it got entirely dark. She’d mirrored Klaus’ sad expression before she’d leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, which had him profusely blushing. 

“Meet me here again, if you decide that perhaps, I didn’t tire you so much of myself,” she’d laughed, allowing Klaus to pull her up from the ground and telling him that he should come if he wanted to see the sketch so badly, earning a laugh from him. 

Since that day, they’d met up several other times to share long walks and steal sweet kisses from eachother. They had officially been meeting up for a fortnight when they shared a bed, his skin on hers without any barrier as they relished in eachother’s warmth erotically enough to make them lose their breaths.

Their meetups had admittedly been growing more and more frequent until that night, and from then on, they found themselves meeting everyday, doing everything and nothing away from all prying eyes. 

But the prying eyes were slowly turning into suspicious gazes as the news about Vampires spread in the town and Klaus was growing more and more tense that they were going to take Y/n away from him and stake her, bringing anxiety into their relationship but she always managed to make him forget about his worries every time he met with her, which now happened after longer time periods because of the dark fate looming over them like dark clouds. 

Long gone were the days spent down by the river, hidden in long grass or camouflaged among wildflowers. Now they met up under the blindness of the night sky, moonlight directing to them their paths to each other and Klaus would end up sobbing in her neck almost every single time while she mumbled sweet nothings into his ear, telling him that she’d forever stay with him in the sketchbooks he had filled up to the brims with her portraits.

On their last night together, she’d told him that she’d always be watching over him from the same dark sky that they were laying under and usher to him her stories through the winds. She’d kissed on every inch of his body, every muscle that flexed under her touch and every spot on his face, letting him kiss her lips until neither of them could breath and their mouths hurt. Until she’d come undone under him and he’d fallen on top of her with the faintest tears brimming on the rims of his eyes. 

“I love you, Niklaus Mikaelson. I always have, and I always will,” she whispered and pressed her mouth against his to punctuate her promise. She couldn’t understand why she was so hurt – this was just an affair, something that couldn’t last forever because she was a vampire and her lover was a human.

She should’ve seen their paths diverging a long time ago, and yet, another tear slipped past her eyes and into her ear.

“Always and forever?” Klaus questioned her, his tears mixing with hers as he rested his forehead on hers. And when she nodded with the saddest and littlest smile on her mouth, Klaus knew it was time to go.

Y/n had stayed there a little longer,  reminiscing over her life before she sped out of town under everyone’s sniffing noses. 

But on his walk home, Kaus had walked into an alley where the men with lit pitchforks lighting their sight had put their suspecting gazes on him, believing that he was one of the Vampires making one of them shoot him out of the sheer freight that Klaus might’ve drained them of blood if he didn’t act fast enough.

And when the news reached Y/n, she heard her dead heart shatter into so many pieces that she just decided to let them lay instead of picking them up piece by piece to put together an ugly heart that had its love taken from it. 

[mooshywrites]

ahhhh i loved the falling in to their lap fic!! Something in same lane but different, a not shy gn s/o falling into the lap of someone else in the camp and they get jealous cue complicated feelings. Maybe for Astarion, Gale, Zevlor, Dammon, and any other characters you like?

Love your work either way 💕

A/N - hellllllls yes 💕

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Jealousy ~

Astarion -

~ It wasn’t on purpose at all, you just happened to land right in Wyll’s lap. Who could blame you for laughing so hard you couldn’t breath and losing your balance in the process?

~ You could practically feel the Vampire’s eyes boring holes into the back of your head as soon as it happened

~ He’d try to play it cool throughout the rest of the evening, making a few more snide comments to Wyll than normal

~ He doesn’t quite know what to think about the feelings he’s having. He’s usually the one being chased after all

~ You catch him sulking at his tent, trying to hide how out of sorts the whole thing has made him

~ Asking him about it only has him brushing it off with a sarcastic “Why would anything be the matter, darling?”

~ Two could play at that game, you just snap back that you’d spend time with Wyll instead

~ In only a split second, his arms would be pinning you to him. His red eyes pierce into your startled gaze

~ His lips are a breath away as he speaks in a voice only you can hear

~ “The only one that will have your attention tonight, pet, is me”

Gale -

~ When you stumbled into Halsin’s arms, you didn’t think much of it. It happened so fast

~ Gale, who was close by, simply made a joke about your clumsiness.

~ You, however, could see the subtle change in his demeanor. His jaw clenched a little tighter, his hands fidgeting a little more, his gaze focused more on your every word

~ For the next few hours, he barely left your side, trying his best to make you laugh, to make you pay attention to him

~ You knew what this was, knew what he was trying to do. The attention was both adorable and more than a little flattering

~ It wasn’t until you planted a soft kiss on his nose that he finally smiled again, even breathing a sigh of relief

~ “I thought I was going to have to tell Tara that you didn’t love me. She would have been none too pleased”

Zevlor -

~ Zevlor tried to brush off the green eyed envy he felt, seeing you casually draped across Shadowhearts lap

~ He tried to convince himself he was too old to be feeling this way, to be annoyed that you were sitting like that with who he hoped was just a friend

~ He couldn’t sit still, leg bouncing and tail swishing around furiously

~ He’d even try clearing his throat, but obviously you were not getting the memo

~ With a snort, he’d stand up and make his way to you. Your innocent gaze snapping up to him did nothing to stop him from scooping you up, stealing you away with a huff

~ All you could do was giggle and tease him for carrying you off like some sort of caveman

~ “Perhaps I need to remind you who it is you belong to”

Dammon -

~ Dammon would be a nervous mess when he walked in to you sitting on Astarion’s lap

~ A flurry of thoughts would fill his brain. What were you doing with him? Surely it was platonic, right? What even led to this?

~ It wasn’t until Astarion caught his attention and rolled his eyes that he saw…

~ Astarion fanned your face furiously, your skin pale and eyes closed. Apparently the heat of the day had gotten to you, rendering you completely faint

~ Even at the realization, Dammon couldn’t help but pluck you out of Astarion’s arms, ignoring the sarcastic quip from the pale elf

~ His tail wraps possessively around your ankle as he brings you to the shade, continuing to fan you

~ He sighs a breath of relief as you come back to, smiling brightly at your confused expression

~ “I’m glad you’re awake! I had to rescue you from a monster”

Kar’niss -

~ Kar’niss didn’t know how to explain most of the feelings he had toward you, but seeing you trip and land on Gale? He knew the name of this one well - red hot jealousy

~ It was all he could do to bite his tongue and not snarl aloud. He was trying his best to act more civilized for you, he couldn’t exactly fall back now, right?

~ Instead, he wordlessly clicked towards the two of you, looming menacingly

~ It took a few minutes of coaxing from you to relax him, finally managing to call your guard dog off the poor wizard

~ He became your shadow the rest of the evening, trailing after you like a lost puppy

~ As the moon rose high in the sky, his eyes grew more and more vulnerable

~ He finally took your hands in his own, his voice almost shy

~ “Promise you won’t leave Kar’niss for someone like him”

[nicodrawings]

Dump time featuring Billie Morales aka Silly Billie

Update 2: oh! Also the first two illustrations are based on Yotsuba art!

Update: ok HC time, if you wanna know more keep reading as usual.

BILLIE SECTION

-I made Billie 5 years old.

-I’ve mentioned this before but Billie has Asperger’s.

-She didn’t talk until she was like 3 going on 4.

-Her nickname is "silly billy"

-Miles always says "how's my favorite girl in the whole wide world?" when he comes home from school on the weekends.

-Miles is a doting big brother and helps take care of her as well as connecting with her interests.

-As much as she loves her parents, she thinks the world of Miles. She's up under him the most, especially when she's over stimulated, stressed or sleepy. His heartbeat calms her.

-She has a limit to physical contact and taps when she’s ready to let go. She usually only hugs her family. Her and Ganke do hand touches instead of hugs.

-The family helps her navigate her environment and her emotions as well as socializing but never push anything that makes her uncomfortable. They always ask questions and have special routines to help her.

-A part of her routine is on Saturdays they go to the park so she can see the pigeons.

-Miles does not like pigeons, but tolerates them for Billies sake.

-They also have special songs for her like "🎶when you walk across the street take ur eyes off your feet🎶" to remind her to look both ways and pay attention when walking across the street since she can get distracted easily.

-The songs they use also attach her to music. So whenever they go to ganke he plays the piano for her and they make songs up and when she hears a song she likes she starts stimming and wiggling.

-She also takes interest in drawing because she sees Miles drawing and they draw animals and watch Steve Irwin on Saturdays too.

-She doesn't understand figure of speeches so if you say "don't sweat it" she would be like "...sweat what?"

-she doesn’t show a lot of emotions unless she’s feeling something intense.

-She rarely sees Miles in superhero mode in public but when she does she just goes “SPIDER!” and smiles and he waves at her.

-Moral of this story, she is loved.

HOBIE

-He lives with his grandparents in the Bronx area (I’m not sure which side yet tho).

-He loves his grandparents very much.

-One time at a punk rock concert a wise man told him “the most punk thing to do is to take care of yourself, don’t be reliant on the system to do so, cuz they ain’t”

-He told his grandpa the following day and they had a heart to heart about it considering that Hobie was very depressed at the time.

-So with that being said, health is incredibly important to him.

-Some ppl tease him and call him “straight-edge” but it don’t bother him much.

-Hobie officially meets the other spiders when he’s 16.

-Clicks with Gwen and Miles almost immediately.

-Especially Miles, Peter always jokes and says that they were definitely brothers in their past lives.

-Gwen and Hobie bond over music.

-Gwen gets the crush first.

-But unlike Miles she’s more forward and doesn’t wait a billion years so she’s asks him out.

-Hobie says yes.

-Only one that knows how to drive by the time he’s 18.

OTHER STUFF

-Gwen’s relationship with her father just…never gets better in my AU. He’s just an ass and as far as Gwen is concerned they’re not family, they’re just related. With that being said, although it’s never acknowledged, Gwen definitely sees Peter as a father figure in her life. She even has him as her top emergency contact. Peter started to understand this when she was 16, he never questioned it and sees her as his oldest daughter. When she’s had really bad arguments with her father she goes to Peters and spends the night.

-Peter and MJ’s home is open to all the spiderkids. No questions asked.

-Peter and MJ always say “On our taxes we have one kid” when people ask them how many kids they have.

-When Peter gets home he sees how many pairs of shoes are at the door then yells “how many kids are in the house?" They usually yell in response which gives him an idea as to how many kids are there.

-On average there’s no less than 2.

-One time he asked and a really deep voice responded along with the kids.

-It was Venom.

-All the spiders have their own therapist’s but every other weekend there’s a group therapy session for kids with powers funded by S.H.E.I.L.D. It’s not required that they go but it’s open for them regardless, just sign up and come in.

-Ganke donates some of his legos to the program and helps assist sometimes with running it since it’s not ran in the best shape.

-This connects to a bigger problem of helping hero’s with their mental health and stability, especially when they decide to retire.

-If you read the other AU list I had, this is the reason why Ganke switches his major to Social Work when he goes to college.

NICKNAMES

Peter’s nicknames for the kids:

Miles-“Junior/Little Man”

May-“Mayday”

Gwen-"Gwennie Pie”

Ganke-“Goober”

Hobie-“Hobie” (obviously)

Anya-“Ani”

Ganke’s nicknames:

Friends-“Gee” judge calls him “G-money”

Miles’s mom-“Honey”

Ganke’s mom-“Gee-Chan”

The boy that bullies him AKA Sean “Gay-ke”

Peter-“Goober” (as I’ve said before)

Venom and Eddie-“Boy”

Miles’s for when he’s feeling affectionate-“Cariño”

Anyway that’s all I got for now! If you have any questions about my AU please feel free to ask away. I love talking about it as you can see.

[yorshie]

Bayverse Headcanons

Just some headcanons I keep in mind when I'm writing bayverse. Will probably come back and add more as I decide on them.

Leonardo

Height/weight: 6’2”, 670lbs

Theme song : Loyal by ODESZA

Ambidextrous but if he needs to punch someone he uses his right hand

Has a dry sense of humor, more little quips and witty one liners than anything planned

Turns into a bit of a caveman when you’re in danger. He catches you going someplace dangerous? Straight to turtle jail for 1000 years. You don’t wanna be picked up and carried to safety? Too bad, it’s happening

Is the King of small touches. A hand on your back, a nudge of his knuckles to get you moving. Mr. soft eyes and low voice when he wants to get his way

Still gets into arguments with Raph. Sometimes they still dissolve into fisticuffs.

References vines to the horror of his brothers (his fav is “road work ahead”)

No one will play Risk with him because even if he’s losing he somehow bleeds everyone dry

Has a gameboy with exactly one game, Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town. All his animals have names like "Bob" or "Tilda"

can't cook, is banned from the kitchen, once set water on fire.

reads science fiction, fantasy and sagas a lot, though if you pay attention to his books the covers are sometimes swapped and it's almost always poetry or romances.

Not a big fan of PDA. Will give you a snoot boop or a chaste forehead kiss in public, but anything more is off limits. What’s that? You wanna snuggle? You better hope none of his brothers walk in because this turtle might panic and shove you off his lap in a snap decision instinct. You wanna go to his room? The scandal. What will everyone think? Fine, but he’ll ninja you in there. No one will know or see. Ninja silent. Except- Donnie will know. Donnie will see. Because he was sitting in the chair right next to you two and you both somehow forgot he was there.

Hogs the bed. And the covers. And the pillows. Basically if you want any bed commodity you better be prepared to snuggle

If you want him to watch tv that’s not sports it’s gotta be some older saga or classic that you actually have to pay attention to. Loves black and white martial arts movies. You once caught him hugging a pillow and watching Princess Mononoke with tears in his eyes.

Will just stare at the person who asked him to kill a little harmless spider before leaving the room

Donatello

Height/Weight: 6’8”/ 680lbs

Theme Song: Frequency by Tim Wolf

Left handed

Donnie is THE sarcastic little shit. 

He realizes quickly that while Leo has softness, and Raph is filthy, he doesn’t need to stoop to theatrics to get what he wants. He just has to make eye contact, tilt his head, and tell you in a calm, plain voice what he desires, and it works. 

Can’t keep his attention on one thing for a long period of time, or has to have multiple stimuli going on to keep focus. King of multitasking

The turtle most likely to curse

Can’t sleep without a nightlight and either music or a movie

Listens to filthy music when he’s working. 

The others gang up on him during trivia night to give everyone else a chance

the adrenaline junkie

one time he got Leo's tea mixed up with his coffee and he spat the substance clear across the Lair.

can cook but it's kinda bland. Can't bake to save his life, despite arguing with every failed cake like it’s out to get him: “it’s science why won’t you work??!”

hasn't opened a real book since the invention of the internet. Has a library of hard drives with the subject matter clearly labeled in alphabetical order. Mikey doesn't know about it and thus it has stayed relatively in order.

Doesn’t use his bed much, so the upside is you always have room to stretch out. Bad news is, if you want this turtle to get any decent sleep, you have to figure out how to keep him trapped enough where he can’t move without waking you up. And he’s a ninja.

Donnie likes to watch informative things. Like how it’s made, or unsolved mysteries. His crack show though? Cryptid hunters. He’ll laugh himself silly over people trying to trap Bigfoot or corner Mothman

The one that kills spiders

Raphael

Height/Weight: 6’5”/ 720lbs

Theme Song: Don’t Get in My Way by Zack Hemsey

Right handed

Turtle has a MOUTH and he is not afraid to open it to to get what he wants. Absolutely filthy when he wants to be.

Will turn into a little melted turtle puddle if someone is sweet to him. Doesn’t really turn to butter over words, but actions will get him every time.

Watches crocodile hunter and golden girls when no one else is awake. Loves animal documentaries, and zoboomafoo

Rough around the edges when it comes to heartfelt affection or feelings. With seduction he’s smooth, but telling someone he genuinely cares for them? Good luck stringing two words together my dude.

Prefers silence or listening when hanging out with someone. He’s slow with his input, careful with what he says. You’re winning if you can make him laugh

in the kitchen he’s either making the most disgusting looking thing that tastes fucking amazing or he’s grilling. Doesn’t tell anyone he learned how to make bread watching Julia Childe.

If he's doing something dangerous or something stupid, the worse thing you could say is along the line of "Leo said-" like, congrats, you just made sure he's gonna do the thing everyone knows he shouldn't. Flip side, he's trying to talk you out of doing something? Just sigh and say "ok, guess I'll go ask Leo-" Boom. Thing is done. Is it healthy? no. Does it work? yes.

Is the most considerate when it comes to sleepy time. He’ll make sure you have your own pillow, own blankets. He sleeps on his stomach and doesn’t move much, and is large enough that you could sleep tucked under the lip of his shell without fear of being squashed

Not the one to call if you see a spider. He will scream

Michelangelo

Height/weight: 6’0”/ 640lbs

Theme Song: Handclap by Fitz and the Tantrums

Right handed but if he puts his mind to it he can use his left equally for everything but writing

Is legally obligated to use cheesy pick up lines, and is a Talker

Uses lollipops and hard candy to keep his focus, bit of an oral fixation

completely ruins heartfelt moments by getting sidetracked. Can be giving the mushiest compliments then in the next breath go "so you gonna eat that leftover cake in your fridge or nah?"

Changes nicknames for you on a semi-weekly basis just to keep you on your toes and to annoy his brothers

Prankster extraordinare 

Can cook, but like the annoying ‘these are the worst ingredients to combine and somehow this tastes good and I'm going to sue you over telling me what's in this’

Is the best with understanding emotions and expressing himself. Yes, Leo might be better reading body language, but Mikey has empathy over why someone might react a certain way, not just 'if I do y then x happens'

Will push buttons to see how much he can bug someone

The one most likely to help you sneak out and get up to shit. Also the one most likely to get you two caught.

Makes up song lyrics when he doesn't know the actual words. Will change them to suit his needs, or how badly he wants to tick off his brothers. Not sure who would get the MOST annoyed by wrong lyrics on purpose, but you just know he has a different set fine tuned for each brother

His bed is basically a storage container for pillows and blankets. Which is good, because he is a serial cuddler, and if you need space to sleep you’ve got plenty of pillows to act as a body double if needs be

Loves soap operas, iron chef, diners drive-ins and dives. The more drama is in it, the more he eats it up. He and Raph bond over Golden Girls once the bigger brother realized he wasn’t going to get teased over it

Will pick up the spider to show you it’s not something to be scared of