#brain freeze is my middle name

[oops-ibrokereality]

Why does almost every piece of media contain a murder? Like most of the time im cool with it, i understand that its just an interesting hook for a story. But sometimes im not quite in the right mind space. Why do i feel like every time i sit down to watch something with my friends im always on edge waiting to see if *this one* is going to be one that goes a little too far or hits a little too close to home and ill have to leave or deal with my brain afterwards? Why can i sometomes watch through shit super death and murder heavy and leave the other side as if i watched nothing unusual but i watch something mkre casual and get gut punched it knocks me out for a week?

[madamechrissy]

Kisses in the Dark

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Megumi Fushiguro x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ oral, masturbation, fingering, first time blow jobs, 69. Megs is a lil freaky but sweet. Reader is innocent and down bad for Megumi

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ this chap: 6.8k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ You have been in love with Megumi Fushiguro since middle school, but you, Nobara, Yuji and him are all best friends. You're such good friends you've lived together during college, and you're good at keeping it in, until one night he goes on a date. You end up hopeless, thinking of him, and your vibrator is broken too!! So you try to do things... yourself. Megumi thinks he hears you cry :'( And checks on you! Then decides to help you, as a friend? We'll see how that works!

A/N- first Megumi x reader! Three part story (tentatively- looking like this may be four parts now) lots of fluff, tension and smut, friends to lovers <3 (Gumi and reader are 20 in this)

Part one here Playlist for this

Part Two

Your date was sweet, and a gentleman, and…

Boring.

It was boring.

You’re quietly shutting and locking the door in the living room of your little apartment, taking your heels off your tired feet and sighing, walking towards your room down the hall. You hear something then, coming from none other than Megumi Fushiguro’s room, and you pause by his door.

Then you hear it, faint but distinct, moaning. You know what they sound like, he had made those noises so softly in your ear a few weeks ago. Your heart drops as you realize, he must have someone over, maybe that girl he’d gone on dates with? And you hadn’t even kissed this boy good night, he’d gone for it and you’d pecked his cheek instead.

You shouldn’t care if he has someone, right?

You all are only friends.

You should walk away, not agonize yourself, clearly Megumi had been interested in just having a little fun that night, it had gone completely back to normal after all. Now you are trembling, a hand raised to barely touch the cold wood of the door, trailing along the glossy white paint, as you hear it again. His moan.

He’s so sexy you think, as your eyes flutter shut and you exhale, imagining him pumping in and out of you, imagining tasting him, as someone surely was right now. You feel that tightening in your tummy as your desire takes a chokehold of you, as you imagine him, just there. He’s moaning again, soft sounds, and you realize you’ll have to take care of this situation in your room now.

You go to leave when you hear it, clear as day, your name.

Your name!?

From Megumi Fushiguro’s lips, you’re losing it aren’t you? Did that wine from dinner go to your head? Are you delusional? Megumi wouldn’t just moan your-

He does it again, and now you blink a bit in the dark hallway, and you curse yourself for this, but you’re turning the knob, finding it unlocked, and when you peek in you see him. His cock is in his hand, which is huge and long with a pretty pink tip you notice while blushing furiously. His eyes are affixed to something on his phone as he strokes it, from the base to the tip.

He says your name again, then when you walk in and close the door with a click he freezes, his dark green eyes locked on you in shock in the dim room. Nothing is lit but a line of LEDs behind his bed, emitting a soft purple glow in the night, as you lock it behind you, back pressed on it. He stops stroking, but he’s so in shock he doesn’t cover up.

“What the… what…are you!? Doing… what…” You tense now, slowly walking up to him, eyes feasting as you see his shirtless body, well muscled and cut, pale skin glowing in the dark night.

“I heard my name… I…l’m sorry, Gumi I should-” You turn to leave, shutting your eyes as those sexy images will be burned in your brain. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t go.” His husky command makes you pause, when you turn toward him again, and he’s standing, his sweats pulled up now, walking to you. Your breath catches in your throat when he’s so close, you crank your neck back to look at him, at his pretty face in the night, so close you can feel his cool breath against your lips.

“I’m sorry this was… stupid I-”

“You wore the sweater?” He murmurs, and you look down, to where it’s still wrapped around your shoulders.

“Um… yeah. I did.”

Because it smells like you.

Because I’m hopeless for you.

Megumi eases it off your shoulders then, as his green gaze drinks you in lazily, his full lips parted just so, his hands brush your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake. You feel your heart pounding nearly out of your chest now, as the big sweater lands on the floor with a soft thud, right around your bare feet. You look down just a bit at it.

“I’m sorry that you heard it.” He says then, and your eyes go wide as they meet his again, you shake your head fervently.

“What? No! I thought at first you had a girl here. I shouldn’t have listened.” You are overheated and flushed, so when his cool fingers touch your skin, you exhale, leaning your face into it. “It was so rude of me.”

“Were you just curious?” He asks softly, and you nod a bit, having so much trouble looking directly at him. You keep staring at those lips, the ones that agonize you with need.

“I guess after you pleasured me I really was curious about pleasing you back.” He blinks then, exhaling, his hands slide down the sides of your breasts, perking your nipples up. “Maybe I can… help? Like you helped me?”

“Ugh… you can’t just say things like that. Looking that way.” He whispers, and your lips purse curiously, making him roll his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I am not so innocent that I don’t want things. But I’ll be unable to do anything… Maybe you could show me? And I could help you feel good?” You touch his bare chest gently, making him tense under your touch, but you feel it, his own racing heart.

“How was your date? Huh?” You giggle at that.

“Now you’re asking me about my date?”

He glares now, his touches stopping for a moment, leaving you empty without his touch. “I am. How was it? Did you…”

“I didn’t kiss him.” You say softly, and you watch his eyes light up now, his hands clenching and unclenching in fists for a moment as he takes a breath.

“Why? Why didn’t you?”

“Um… I didn’t want to.” You’re rubbing one of your arms awkwardly, looking back at the door. “I should go, this was a dumb idea.”

“What do you want to learn?” His husky tone is your undoing, your throat goes dry with just how badly you want him right now.

“You’d teach me, Gumi?” You ask softly, stepping that one step closer, pressed against his hard body now. “As a friend hmm?”

His lips tense, and he’s touching your waist now, his big hands taking it over nearly, thumbs pressing up against your rib cage over the thin black dress. “I’ll eat your pussy as a friend.”

You whine, burying your face against his chest. “Gumi…”

“You’re so cute you know? Acting shy but… you just came here to ask to get me off?” Your hands splay the sides of his hard body, as his slip up your spine, sending shivers down your body. “You wanna cum again?”

“I want to make you cum. I want to make you feel good.” He moans softly, and that sound has you dripping against the black lace of your panties, far too fancy than what you’re used to. “What if you just teach me how? If the thought isn’t too…”

“I haven’t had a blow job.” You pause, looking up in surprise, and see the desire glimmering in his eyes, as he’s damn near holding you in the night, in his little room, all neat and perfect. “I told you I like to please. And… two girls. Not a lot of experience.”

“Oh, if it’s like special I won’t. I assumed…”

“I’d die if you did. I won’t make it.” You giggle up at him, but you just earn his glare, the same one like when you went on that date tonight. “You are bratty still.”

“Can you show me how to play with you then? And if you want more we can try that?”

“I’d rather you sit on my face.” Now you’re a puddle, a complete mess, as those images of something so naughty to you fill your head. “I’ll jerk off while you do. That way you can help.”

“Can we try both? I won’t learn that way.” You pout up at him, batting your eyelashes, and he sighs then, running a hand through spiky black hair.

“You really want me to be the first for that too though?” You nod eagerly, then when he sighs and nods back, you sink to your knees, making him panic, yanking you up then.

“Isn’t that how it’s done?” You ask curiously, and he is shaky as he pulls you over to the bed.

“Sure, but it seems… um… I’ll show you what I do, then you can try and see if you want it in your…” His eyes drop to your lips. “Mouth.”

“Okay. Should I… get undressed? Does that help make you cum?” You ask, and he laughs softly, swiping a hand down his face with an exhausted expression.

“You’re offering to suck me and get naked? I’m dreaming.”

“Why did you um… say my name?” Megumi looks away again, cheeks a bright red for a moment.

“I was remembering tasting you.” His hushed confession makes you throb around nothing now, your chest tight, you can barely breathe, like the room has become too small for you now.

“Y-you were?” He nods, his hands groping yours now, fingers entwined together, and Megumi is clearly embarrassed. But… “I was thinking of you that night.”

“What?!” You nod shyly. “You were?”

“Yes. I know it’s… awkward and weird to have. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. Hey, look at me.” He tilts your chin up now. “It’s not bad to… imagine things. Is it?”

“No, it isn’t. Right?”

“Right. And… it’s normal, we’re living together…”

“Right! And now we were … you were…”

“I tasted you.” Fuck.

“Y-yes…” You stammer nervously, fiddling with the strings of his sweats. “And of course, I’m comfortable with you.”

“And I am with you. So this is just…” He trails off then.

“Just friends. That… help each other cum? Is that like… with benefits?”

“Like a friend bonus.”

“Right!”

“Right.” You both speak at the same time, then you both are breathing in quick little pants, as the silent room is filled by them, as your body is shivering, and Megumi’s hands are resting on your shoulders. “But you… I don’t think I should take your virginity.”

“Not as a friend?” You whisper, and he gulps visibly, shaking his head. “So just… other things?”

“Yes, we can do other things. As friends.”

“Like sucking you?”

“Jesus fucking…” He exhales now, grip on your shoulders tightening, looking at you with dark lashes lowered. “You just want to learn how?”

“Yes, please. I really want to. Um… it looks big though. I’m not sure how well I’ll do?” He’s blushing again, leading you to the bed with him now. “It also looks pretty?”

He sputters then, as he gently sits you on the bed, and sighs, cupping your face as he studies you. You hold your breath, enamored by his touch, his scent, how he feels, even his energy. It’s so easy to get lost in him.

“You’re so, so pretty. I should have told you before you left, I’m sorry.” He murmurs now, and you blink back emotion at that, your hands gripping his wrists gently as his thumbs brush your cheeks.

“Thank you, Gumi. That’s so sweet.”

“Looked so pretty I didn’t want you to go.” You gasp, and he’s sliding the straps of your dress down now, exhaling as he sees your lush breasts, about to spill out of your tight dress and low neckline. “Why didn’t you kiss him, really?”

“He was boring.”

He smirks then, looking down at you, from this angle his lean body looks even more cut, the shadows enhancing every line and curve. You trail your fingers down them, and watch his abdomen tense under the touch. “Am I boring?”

“No, Gumi, not at all. Did you um… kiss your date the other night?”

“I did kiss her. But… it was boring.”

You smile a bit, pecking a kiss on his abdomen now, right over his belly button, one of his hands slides to your hair, massaging it with long fingers, you sigh at how good it feels, your hands sliding to his thighs over soft gray sweats. Megumi stiffens just a bit at your kisses.

“Her kiss was boring?”

“It was.”

“Was my kiss boring?” Your thumbs hook in his elastic waistband, and he shakes his head quickly, pulling your hair so that your head tilts back, looking up at him.

“Your kiss was anything but boring. You’re… a very good kisser.” His voice drops an octave, as he’s sliding his hand and helping you shove off his sweats, and now his pretty cock is slapping his belly button, so long and thick, you notice sticky white beads on the tip. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. If you’re okay with it?”

“Okay with it!? How about I’m dreaming right now.” You flush at that, then he takes your hand and guides it to his cock. You feel it, hot and hard in your palm now, and he hisses. “Fuck.”

“I already messed up!” You freak out then, and he shakes his head, placing his free hand on your shoulder to brace himself for a moment.

“It felt really good. Your um… hand is so soft.” He whispers, and you look curiously at his cock now, sliding your hand to the end of his shaft, thumb curiously pressing on that line on his tip. He groans now, as you smear the pre cum around it, and you look up at him hungrily, thighs shifting to create any friction there.

“Can I…” You dart your tongue across his tip, and he hisses, pulling at your hair hard. “Is that not okay?”

“It’s too good. I shouldn’t even get to have you like this, you’re too much of an angel.”

“Megumi…” You stroke back up to his tip again, making him moan softly now, his hands gently cupping your face again. “Should I put it in my mouth?”

“I’ll die.” You giggle up at his flustered expression, allowing you time to see just how pretty he was, his cock twitches in your delicate hold, pumping up and down softly, just feather light touches. Mehumi’s thumb brushes your lower lip. “Open your mouth, pretty.”

You’re soaked now, it’s hopeless.

You allow him to guide your mouth open, as one hand pumps him and the other is resting on the bed, gripping Megumi’s blankets, a soft tan suede. “Tongue out.” You do as he says, leaning forward more, your breasts nearly popping out of your undone dress, and his nostrils flare as he caresses your face, brushing your hair back.

It’s so intimate then, when he’s guiding his hard cock into your mouth, it’s not like what you’ve watched, he’s sweet and easy, staring right at your eyes as you take him in, as you taste him. His precum is so yummy you suck on it, and he moans, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment, grip tightening on your face. Seeing his face in pleasure makes your core tighten, burn with desire.

“Good girl. Feels s’good.” He whispers now, and you are feeling him swell as you wrap your lips around him, sucking gently. You pull back for a moment, and his eyes open, as his hands enwrap in your hair.

“You taste good, Megumi.” You whisper around his cock, and he groans, his hand shooting to the back of your head, pressing you down further, and you take him deeper into your mouth, feeling him hit the back of your throat.

You’re loving how he’s gripping your hair, how he’s moaning your name, how he’s watching you, and you start to suck faster, bobbing your head and listening to his noises. The sound of your slurping him up intermingles with his sighs, his exhales, as he’s gently fucking into your mouth.

You choke a bit then and he pauses, pulling back and bending down, eyes filled with worry. But they're also dilated and nearly black. “I hurt you!?”

“No, no, I'm good! It just um… hit a spot.” You can hardly speak of such things looking at him.

“I pushed in too deep. Are you okay?”

“I'm so good. It's really um… I like it too much.” He raises a brow, that little smirk on his face now.

“Do you?”

“Should I show you how much?” He nods then and you take his hand, kissing the backs of elegant fingers as you slide up your dress, and guide his hand up. He eagerly finds you then, sucking in a breath as his eyes shoot up to yours.

“You're that wet from sucking me?” His voice is full of wonder, as his fingers rub you over your panties, making you whine out at how much you crave him, nodding weakly, head falling back when he presses up on your little clit over the lace. “I wonder what panties you wore for this date.”

“Wha-mnh!” He's got your dress unzipped now, and he bares you to him, eyes feasting on your breasts, then trailing down. He glares now.

“You wore these for this date?” You shrug, looking down at them.

“Well I thought… I don't know. I can't stay alone and a virgin forever. I guess I prepped? Nobara said I should.”

He grips your hips tightly, pressing his fingers into your flesh, making you wince just a bit. “Did you want him to?”

“I've never wanted anyone to. But you.”

He grabs you then, picking you up and shoving you down on the bed, shocking you with the quick movement, laying on top of you, his hard length hot on your thigh. You're breathless from the quick motion, struggling to breathe under him. Your shaky hands go to his shoulders, eyes wide on his now.

“What's wrong, Gumi? Is that too much to say…”

“I'm mad you wore them. I'm mad you looked so beautiful for him tonight.”

“Gumi…”

“I'm mad I was looking at pictures of you in your bathing suit, picturing you, remembering your taste.”

His words kill you, now you're just whimpering, hips arching up, begging for him. “I didn't want him. I'm mad I don't. I'm mad I keep thinking about that night, when you're totally fine.”

He scoffs, hands sliding down your thighs, lifting them, and pressing one of his thighs between yours, making you cry out at the sensation. “Tch, you think I'm fine?” You just nod, and he grimaces. “I guess I am good at seeming that way.”

“So you liked it too? You didn't wish we hadn't?”

“Liked it? Liked it? No.” You blink in confusion and then he's hovering just over your lips. “I can't get your moans put of my head. Those little sounds you make. How your brow furrows, how your cheeks flush…” You're grinding on his thigh then, and slender leg pressing up, and his jaw tenses. “You're all I can think of. Now I'll have to remember you sucking me. No hope.”

“But you want to be friends?”

“I don't want to lose you in my life. What if i… hurt you?”

“So we stay friends?” He nods, jerky, gulping then. You both are breathless as he hovers over you.

“Best friends.”

“The best. Um… I'll go-”

Megumi shocks you by grabbing your wrists, shoving them over your head, pinning you to the bed with his weight. You whine out, and he groans then, lips just a breath away, noses touching.

“Kiss me, Megumi… please.” At your little plea he slams his lips down on yours, and those tingles shoot through your lips again, as his skin presses against yours, and his hands grip your breasts, making your nipples pebble against his palms.

He tastes so sweet, something minty and something just Megumi, burning your lips as his tongue swirls against yours, drinking in your little cries. Your teeth click as the kiss grows more desperate, as you feel him pressing that leg up even more, and you’re shamelessly grinding against it, trembling with need. A need that consumes you, that takes over your senses.

Best friend.

He’s your friend.

Right?

Megumi’s kissing down your throat now, lips making a hot, sticky trail of kisses and bites, little strings of saliva leaving his perfect lips as he peers up at you, through those lidded eyes. You whine out, your hands gripping his spiky hair, back arching so that he has easy access to your breasts. He starts sucking on them, biting your skin, and when he gets to your nipple you cry out.

“Shh, angel.” He huffs, reaching a hand up to put on your mouth, and you nod then, eyes rolling back as he’s kissing around one areola, before sucking the peak into his hot mouth. It feels so good as he’s nipping it with sharp teeth, and you’re making his thigh completely soaked.

“Gumi…” You whisper, quietly crying out, biting your fist now to stay silent as his other hand is sliding down your soft tummy, it’s trembling under his touch. His moan tickles your sensitive nipple as he pulls back with a pop, peering up at you.

The sight of his elegant fingers gripping a hold of one of your breasts is too much, the sight of his glossy lips parted, his little breaths that come out in pants. You gulp, your throat dry, Megumi’s grip tightens when he removes his thigh, looking down, and you see his bare leg is covered in your slick.

“I’m so sorry, that’s so…”

“Shh.” He’s rubbing you now, studying you as he’s rubbing over those panties, the ones sticking to you, drenched fabric that has your sticky arousal all over it. You whimper pathetically, your eyelashes fluttering, teeth biting your lower lip at the pleasure he brings from a simple touch. “You get so wet.”

He yanks down your panties then, peeling them off you, your knees are knocking as your legs shake, as he’s drinking in you fully naked, running his hands down your entire body then, like an artist with a paint brush. So delicate, over every curve, every line you have, and your breasts are heaving with your nervous breaths come faster with every stroke like a paint brush over your skin.

“You’re beautiful.” You blink back heavy emotion now, your hands nervously running back down his body.

“You make me feel that way by looking at me like that.” Your eyes lock again, his hands pausing their movements, resting on your hips now. “Megumi… I wanted to suck you, remember?”

“I want you on my tongue.” Your mouth drops open at just how sensual he is, kissing you once more, and you’re eagerly grinding, now completely naked when he’s sinking two fingers in you. “You’re so tight… you…”

“Megumi, please. Please.” He smirks a little as he pulls back, those dark green eyes glinting, pecking a little kiss on your cheeks with those full lips, sinking two fingers deeper and curling them. You are blinded as he hits that spot with ease, as he’s pressing it over and over. “Please!”

“Shh, so loud, aren’t you?” He taunts, and you just gasp as the pleasure is overwhelming, and your hands slide down his rib cage, fingers pressing in.

“Please, Megumi… in me. Want you in me.” He falters then, the smirk gone for a moment, and he shakes his head, some hair loosely falling over his forehead.

“No, we can’t do that. It should be special.”

It would be, stupid boy.

I love you, idiot.

“Then… ngh… lemme suck you. You- ah- liked it.” He chuckles a bit, vibrating your chest as he leans down, the mirth back in his gaze.

“So eager to have me in your throat? Though you were my angel.”

“Not… thinking… angelic- ah- thoughts!” He’s making you cum, goddammit, you’re gushing all over his fingers and down his hand, and his jaw is locked now, you feel his cock twitch against your thigh. “Lemme… suck… you… Megumi!”

“Shh, angel, you’ll wake them up.”

“Then shut me up.” He blinks then, and glares a bit, earning your smile, but soon he has you flipped on top of him, your thighs are straddling him for a moment, and you move to grind on him but he’s turning you. “Megumi, wha-”

“Sit on my face.”

Well fuck.

“Megumi!”

“C’mere.” He’s got your thighs on either side of his head, his hot breath tickling your entrance, your hips buck at it, his hands are gripping your inner thighs, shoving them further apart. “There we go. Good girl.”

“You can’t say shit like that and be… my… friend! Ngh!” You’re crying out, head falling as your hands brace on either side of his torso when he’s buried his nose against you, inhaling you.

“Smell s’good. Taste s’sweet.” He is kissing you there, and you’re dripping onto Megumi Fushiguro’s pretty face, turning to see him hard and insistent now, his hips grind up and you lean up on one arm, hand reaching down to stroke him. He groans against you, vibrating on your clit as he’s sucking it in his mouth.

“Ah! Oh my!” Megumi smacks your butt then, shocking you, as he lifts your hips for a moment.

“Shut that pretty mouth.” He’s leaning up again, and you eagerly suck him into your mouth, making him grip you so tightly it’s bruising, sighing against your eager, soppy little cunt. “Good girl, there. Just like that.”

He’s urging you on as you suck him, in this position he seems to go easier down your throat, and he’s back to lavishing your pussy with his talented tongue. It feels so fucking good, as you’re working his length up and down, feeling his cock pulse in your mouth, feeling his hotness, his taste, his everything.

You're shaking now, feeling him thickening even more, your throat tightening around him, your mouth is full, so full of him as he’s pulling you down onto his mouth greddily, tongue devouring every inch, drinking up all the arousal pouring. You cry out around his length, rocking on him and pressing further down.

“Fuck my face, just like that angel. Doing such a good job.”

“Fuck!” You pull back to whine out now, as he’s moving your hips again. “Are you okay down there!?”

“Suffocate me.”

This boy…

“Gumi… cumming!” You whisper, and he groans, as you lick the precum pouring from his pretty tip, and he’s spreading your lips even wider, flicking the underside of your clit with the tip of his tongue. You bite back a scream, damn near convulsing over him now.

“Cum, then.”

Did he have to keep saying shit like this!?

So you are cumming, your body is just pulsing everywhere as it washes through you, and he's swirling his tongue around your clit as you’re shattering over him, pussy throbbing around nothing, pouring all over him, so messy. You cum so hard it’s embarrassing. You're shaking all over, gripping his cock tightly, lavishing a messy open mouthed kiss on his length.

“Megumi!” You’re so sensitive as he’s licking you through your orgasm, one of your hands is digging into his thighs, nails leaving crescent marks on pale skin, his cock jumps as you suck on the tip again, moaning around it.

“I could do this all day, fuck.” He huffs, leaning back and taking a breath that you feel puff against you, sliding his finger down your slit. “Your mouth feels so good… mmm yes, focus up there.”

“Here?” You suck right on the underside of his tip, and he hisses, spreading your messy wetness up and around your entrance now.

“There, there… you sure you havent!?”

“Absolutely sure. I’m doing good?”

“Killing me.” He nips on one of your puffy lips, making you shiver as he does, and you suck him further down your throat, going as far as you can until he’s choking you, and he’s pumping his hips up. You feel his silky hair against your inner thighs, his hands digging into your skin. “Angel, I’m close.”

“Good.” You say between thrusts in your mouth, pulling back for a moment.

“No, don’t wanna… cum in your…”

“I want to taste it.”

Fuck, why do you have to say those things, act this way? As your arousal is dripping out of your tiny little hole, and he’s lapping it up like honey, your hot mouth sucking his cock in, and fuck it feels so good, Megumi has never felt anything like it. You’re consuming him, as your thighs clench either side of his head, as your lush breasts press on his abdomen.

As your little pink tongue is sliding up the underside of his leaky tip, the one that just hit your uvula, his cock jerks at the sensation.

“You want to swallow, angel? You sure?” He asks, and you nod eagerly, he peers down at you as he tilts to the side, your hair is tickling his thighs, falling like a curtain over him as you stare at his cock, and he hears your little sext sounds. You make these sounds from the back of your throat he can’t handle.

Fuck he wants to slide into this perfect cunt.

You begged him to, but how can he? He’s already gone so far, and to lose you makes his chest tighten in fear. But now that he’s had you like this, now that he’s felt you like this? Now that you’ve cum all over his face, now that you’re sucking his cock deep in that tight throat…

You’ve ended him.

“Please cum in my mouth. I can do it.” You hear him curse under you, it is tickling you, as you brace yourself on his thighs now, shoving your hips back. “I’ll cum with you, if you want.”

“If I want!? Jesus fucking… okay but if you don’t like it just pull back.”

“I’ll like it.”

“Cum with me then. Bring this pretty pussy back on my mouth.” He’s shoving you back down again, and now he’s fucking you with his tongue, in and out of your entrance, as his chin shoves against your little clit, making it twitch as you’re cunt tightens around the wet muscle of his tongue.

“Gumi! I… oh my! I…”

“Shh.” He shoves his hips up, plunging his cock in your mouth, and now the room is crackling with energy, with desire, filled with your moans, as you’re grinding your sweaty body against his own, they’re slick as you’re grinding over him, as he’s gripping your ass and fucking you so good you can’t take it.

You’re cumming all over his face again, this time even harder, so hard you feel weak and spent, your eyes rolling back in your head as you breathe through your nose. Your cheeks hollow as you suck him harder, feeling him impossibly thicken, and then he freezes his thrusts, and they get jerky, and you feel him cry out desperately against your soppy cunt.

He’s pulsing in your mouth, and you start to feel him cumming, spurting hot liquid, runny and sticky, salty tasting almost, down your throat. You pull back just a bit as you start swallowing it, as it’s coming in bursts and strings, and you feel his mouth stop moving as he rides out his own climax.

He pulls back, groaning so loud, head falling back on the pillow as his hands glide down the outsides of your thighs and you’re swallowing him up. Finally his movements cease, but you’re still sucking him off, swirling your tongue around him, hearing him cry out, kissing your cunt with sloppy kisses.

“F-fuck… sensitive… angel…”

“You made me sensitive.” You tease, pecking a kiss on his tip finally, it’s softened just a bit now, and he laps up more of your own cum, making you squeal and wriggle, as he pins your hips down.

“Teasing me huh?” You giggle breathlessly, but it dies when he’s humming on your clit once more, and you bury your face against his abdomen, screaming out as you cum one more time, and this time it almost hurts you’re so sensitive.

You feel his chuckle, as he taps you a bit then, helping you up, but planting kisses on your ass, your thighs as he does. “Gumi I’m jello.”

He is smirking at you when he spins you back around, and you catch yourself with your hands on either side of his face, straddling his torso now. You both laugh a bit, flushed faces and drunken eyes, one of his hands brushes your hair behind your ear, tucking it back as the rest falls loosely.

You both don’t speak then, not when he feels the heat of your pussy against his belly button, not when you feel his heart thudding under your breasts, not when you both are just breathing, staring at each other. It’s silent, as you all kiss then, kissing in the dark just like before.

“So… do we do this all the time, if we’re friends with…”

“If you want.”

“I want… do you?”

“You have to ask?” He presses up and you flush as you realize he’s hard again. “Of course I’d like that. But… if you get serious with someone, then we should stop.”

“Yes, exactly, we’ll stop if either of us do.”

“And no fucking.”

You pout and he’s chuckling. “None at all?”

“No, you deserve a special first time.” His words make you ache, your heart crushed, as you ache to say it.

I love you Megumi.

But you don’t, you can’t, can you?

“Can we kiss again?” You ask, and he nods, then you’re kissing his soft lips, tasting yourself on them, as he tastes you, and soon it’s heated again, like a force neither of you can stop, until he pulls back, breathless. “Sorry. Carried away.”

“Stop apologizing. Not even mad you were being a perv and came in.” You scowl, earning his grin, white in the night, so rare that you see him grin like that, and not just an upturn of his lips.

He’s breathtaking like this, under you.

“You did it first.”

“I was worried, you were being perverted.”

“Me!? Mister ‘I’ll show you how’ uh-huh.”

His eyes narrow, lips pursing. “Brat.”

You stick your tongue out, earning a little smack, then you sigh when you see just how late it is over on the little clock but Megumi’s bed. “I should let you get some rest. Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“Was worth it.” You heat up at his tone, at his praise. “I’ll eat you out every day.”

“You liked that blow job don’t lie.”

It’s his turn to blush, as he sits up, still holding you, and you imagine for a moment how good it would feel to sleep in his arms. You shake that thought away, along with the thought of how good his cock would feel, how big it is, how full it would make you. You can’t stop the little whine that escapes you again.

“Sore or anything? I wasn’t so gentle with my fingers this time.”

“Oh, no I liked it. Don’t worry. A lot.” You look down, and he’s easing you off him, hopping off the bed and picking up your dress. He helps slide it over you, the silk flitting over your overheated skin, zipping you up carefully before sliding on his sweats. “My panties are ruined.”

His lips quirk up, as the hollows of his cheeks have shadows from the night, just enhancing the lazy beauty of his face, and you can’t stop yourself from falling even harder for him. It grabs ahold of you when he helps you to stand, on wobbly legs, and his eyes rake over your form.

“Can’t walk?”

“I sure can, jerk!” You shove at him, but then you wobble and he has to hold you, his breath against your cheek. You peer up at him then. “You think it’s funny.”

“It’s just cute.” He taps your nose, and there’s too much left lingering between you now, too much unsaid that you can’t bring yourself to speak on. “So is this what we do now, barge into each other’s rooms?”

“We’ll see I guess, hmm? Maybe the next date will be good.” He glares now, and you enjoy it, enjoy him feeling jealous, it makes you feel so much, you can’t explain. You peck a kiss on his cheek then. “Night, Gumi.”

“Yeah, yeah. G’night.”

One week later

“You sure you don’t wanna watch the zombie marathon you two!?” Yuji asks, his light brown eyes wide as his lip trembles.

“Nope.” You say.

“Nah.” Megumi says.

“Nobara, pwease!” He’s on his knees, and she rolls her eyes then, shoving at him.

“No way!” She huffs, and Megumi sips on his soda, smirking at them, before his eyes land on you, and it changes. His look, his gaze, wanton and lustful.

You all had not spoken of what happened again, though things were different. In the morning as you brushed your teeth, he would press against your back just so, and he’d brush your hair for you, looking at you in that mirror, tall over you, behind you. He’d brush his hand on your waist if you passed in the hallway, press on the small of your back as you would walk past.

Little touches, eager touches.

It was like the boy knew how to torture you. And he was just waiting, waiting for you to cave, to ask, but you were trying to stand firm, as much as you desire him, you don’t know how much control you have, how much you just… want him. Need him. As more than he was.

But your resolve was wearing low, and even his presence had you hopelessly pulsing inside your constantly eager pussy, which now was donned in lacy crotchless panties. Yeah, you were hoping that maybe he’d get the hint if you bent over in those at some point, it was kind of a tease move, but you weren’t good at chess like Megumi.

God even now how he’s just licking that soda off his lip?

Fuck.

“Oh fine, I’ll go, if you buy me whatever I want at the mall.” You struggle to focus, and look over at Yuji, who’s hugging her so tightly she’s choking. “Off!”

“Yay!” He exclaims happily, and you all laugh as they get ready to go.

Once you and Megumi are… completely alone, which doesn’t happen often, you try to play it cool, taking several breaths. You’re popping on some music, and starting to figure out what to make for dinner, bending down to look at what you have in the fridge. When you stand up and turn, you see Megumi there, his head tilted to the side.

“Megumi Fushiguro, were you staring at my butt!” You shove playfully, and he just comes closer, gaze raking over every curve you have.

“I saw your panties.”

You’re blushing so hard, looking down at your skirt. “Perv!”

“Me huh? You’re wearing those and bending over around me?” He shoves the fridge door shut, then you’re pressed against it, cool metal on your skin making you shiver as you look up, caged between two lithe, strong arms.

“What, you think they’re cute?” You tease him, and his lips part, his hands clenching to fists on either side of you.

“You wear them for me?”

“No, Megumi, for the ghost of the apartment.”

“You’re extra bratty. Didn’t cum enough angel?” His hand reaches right between your thighs, cupping you then, and your eyes shut, your hands gripping his soft white tee shirt, as you cry out. “Answer me.”

“Yes, for you Gumi… who else? You liked the black ones…

“I’ll get a good look.” He’s on his knees suddenly, and looking up your skirt, you lift it up so he gets a view, of crotchless dark blue panties, his breath is hot against your inner thigh as he looks up at you hungrily, long lashes casting shadows under his eyes, which had dark circles under them.

You grip his shoulders nervously now, letting your skirt fall, for him to shove it back up, bunching it around your hips. “You like them?”

“They’re slutty.” You blink at that, at his possessive tone. “Better not wear them anywhere but here.” You raise a brow then, smiling softly.

“Oh but we’re friends, right? So…”

“Nowhere else.”

“Megumi- ah!”

He’s swiping his tongue up your slit now, and you can’t take it, you just can’t… you need him, need him so bad. He’s spreading the lips of your sex, pulling your thigh over his shoulder then, swiping up even deeper, looking up at you as he does. Drinking you up right in the kitchen, under your skirt, against the fridge.

Megumi Fushiguro.

Your… friend?

This may be more chaps then I thought lol. Hope you all enjoy!!

[jewelleria]

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 

I am a Jew. 

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 

Then they sent me this: 

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

[thegnomelord]

Missing You

CW: NSFW, sub bottom Soap, dom top Reader, phone sex, masturbation, dirty talk, edging, sex toy, dom/sub. Quick and rough but that's how the horny strikes.

Like always, asks/requests are open :Dd

You've been gone on a mission for nearly a month now, and Soap doesn't know what to do with himself. Even when you text him sporadically to tell him you're alive, sometimes he feels like a housewife, stuck awake late at night wondering if you'll return to him as a pair of dog tags.

And even later at night he can't help thinking of what you'll do to him when you come back, ravage him until he's drooling and his brain is leaking from his ears.

As days turn to weeks he finds himself trying and trying to jerk off to no avail. No matter how much he tries he can't seem to get himself off while you're away; he could fuck his cock into his fist until his skin's rubbed raw and his balls are so full they feel like they'll explode but nothing ever comes out. His body is just so used to having your body over his and your scent in his nose and just your presence near that it can't cum without it.

Pure need breeds desperation and has him finding himself at your door in the middle of the night. It's locked, but he has the key. He's quick to shimmy his way inside, a happy little sigh escaping him when he huddles underneath the covers and your scent invades his nose. A stuttered breath leaves him as he gropes his stiff cock underneath his shorts, burying his nose into your pillow and breathing in deep until his lungs are full of you and his brain is buzzing nicely.

He tries to get himself off like that, doesn't take him much to stroke himself to full mast but even surrounded by your scent he can't cum. It's like there's a blockage at the base of his cock that's not letting anything put pre-cum out while he humps his fist until tears prickle his eyes.

A thought pops into his mind and without even thinking he's fishing his phone from his pocket and dialing your number without thinking of what time of the day is on your end. Holding the phone in one hand and cock in the other he nibbles on his lip as he waits for you to pick up. Hopes you will pick up.

"Johnny?" Your voice is slurred with sleep, giving it a deep base rumble that sends a nice shiver down spine.

"Bonnie..." He breathes out and bites his lip to hold back a groan, cock twitching in reaction from just your voice. "Fuck, ah missed yea."

You hum, still half asleep. "Missed you too Johnny. How have you been?"

"Good." He breathes out, worrying his lip between his teeth as he strokes himself. "Just been mighty bored since you left lil' ol' me alone."

You can hair faint shuffling on the other end, but not his usual chatter. Normally when you call each other Soap will prattle on and on for as he can, but this time he is strangely silent save for his shuddered breath. "Soap... where are you?"

He freezes and sucks in a breath, "In yeh room."

"Johnny." The way you say his name sends a shiver down his spine and he begins stroking himself again, pinching and squeezing the head of his poor cock in the same way you do. "Did you miss me this much?"

"No shite." A small sound escapes him, a mixture of a curse and something more animalistic. "Ah try 'an wank off but every time I try it's-" A familiar hellish feeling in his balls, like something close to pain but not quite, has him cutting his sentence short.

"Poor boy," You coo, "Can't cum without me there, can you? Got you so trained to cum with my cock up your ass you can't do it without something nice and big stretching you out, hmm?"

Your words have embarrassment flooding his system and a small stream of pre leaking from his red angry tip, "'S your fault, fockin' wanker." He curses, burying his head into your pillow while quickly stroking his cock. He'd be embarrassed about what your voice does to him if he wasn't so damn horny. "Fix yer mess."

"Want to cum so badly don't you?" You stall just for a second, your mind birthing a devious idea. "Alright sweetheart, check under the bed for me."

Your request confuses him. "What for?" Still, he's a good boy, he does as he's told no matter how much it hurts to let go of his dick. Even just the sheets rubbing against his poor dick has him whimpering from overstimulation, but he manages to reach beneath your bed and finds a small discrete box.

"Just a gift for you." Your smirk carries over the phone and you can just imagine his expression when when he opens the box.

Inside the box is a dildo. It's firm in his hand as he picks it up, heat pools in his stomach as he recognizes the tip he'd spend hours suckling on, as he traces each realistic vein with his fingers the same way he'd do with his tongue, as he rubs the silicone balls like he'd worship the actual ones; It's molded from your actual dick.

"Oh you sick fuck." He breathes out, but there's not a single hint of disgust in his breathless voice. "Did yea make it so's yea could fock yourself?"

"Funny." Your two share a small chuckle, "If you're not careful I'll make one of yours and lock the real thing away. Not like you use it much."

He never knows if you're serious or kidding but the subtle threat in your tone has his dick throbbing all the same. He manages an indignant "Oi!" before his voice pitters out when he finds your second surprise.

"Thought you'd want something to remember me by." You can't hide your amusement when he finds your underwear. After you'd caught him masturbating with his face shoved in a pair of your underwear he'd nicked, you'd gone out of your way to wear one pair each time you went to the gym and didn't wash it.

"Oh bile yer heid." He huffs but he's already rolling on his side with your underwear pressed close to his nose. He breathes in deep until he can taste the heavy tang of your musk on his tongue, arousal burning hot in his veins.

"I'll take it you like it." You chuckle, "Go on sweetheart, you know what to do."

"Aye." He shuffles until shimmy his shorts off, having not even bothered with wearing boxers. He shifts so his knees are close to his chest, the phone pressed between his ear and the pillow so he can use both hands. "C'mon, keep yappin'. Need tah hear yea." He feels so high-strung begging like this, but it just makes heat burn hotter in his cock when he brings the silicone dildo to his puckered hole that's already wet from when he'd tried to finger himself to an orgasm.

"Oh, sweetheart," With your voice ringing in his ear and your scent in his nose and the weight of your sheets over his half naked body he almost feels like you're right there. If he closes his eyes he imagine it's your cock poke against his hole and your body swallowing his. "Let me guess, you're already wet huh?"

"Know me so well." He breathes out and slowly pushes the dildo against his hole until the head finally slips past the ring of muscle. He's rougher than you'd be but his body is so desperate to feel you that the cock slips in easily, his walls clenching greedily around every familiar vein.

You croon praises in his ear as he sets a deep and fast pace, biting your underwear between his teeth to muffle his pathetic mewls while pounding his hole. But it's not enough, even with every single one of his senses full of you it's not enough. His arm's starting to cramp the longer he fucks himself, twisting and angling the dildo in a desperate attempt to catch his prostate, his hips twitching back to when he bottoms out so he can feel the fake balls slap against his own.

"Shit- It's not enough, fock, please." He shifts his head just enough to beg, huffing in your scent.

"What's wrong Soap, can't fuck yourself like I can?" He groans at your words, biting the wet fabric of your underwear again when he finally manages to graze his prostate. His cock's leaking like a faucet, easing the glide of his fingers when he grabs it to stroke himself until he's whining from the stimulation coming from both ends.

His balls ache and fire burns in his stomach every time he bottoms out, his thighs shaking with the need to cum. "Nae, you fock me so good-" He pants, pleas both in English and Gaelic falling from his lips until you can barely understand anything aside from pure need.

"Go on Johnny, you can cum."

Your permission is all it takes for him to tip over the edge, hole spasming around the dildo and cum spurting like a firehose from his cock and his sight going white. Weeks upon weeks of unresolved tension all escaping him as waves of euphoria pulse through him, leaving him shaking from his orgasm.

"There you go, good boy." Your voice brings him back from the peaks of heaven, his breathing heavy and uncoordinated. "How do you feel?"

"Fockin' perfect." He slurs and has just enough strength to slip the fake cock from his hole and toss it somewhere on the floor. "Felt like ah was ready ta blow." A loud yawn leaves him and his eyes feel heavy when he hears your voice again.

"Get some sleep Johnny, I'll be back by the time you wake up."

"I'll hold yea to it." A dumb little smile tugs on his lips and he nuzzles his head into your pillow, drifting off to sleep.

[soft-girl-musings]

Stranger Danger

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

MK Spring Bingo entry #5

tags: reader is being stalked & responds in a way the author (a woman) has been taught to, emotional protector steven grant to the rescue, no use of y/n

wc: 1,138

fic summary: There's safety in numbers, do you want mine? (too soon?)

_____________________

“Oops, careful!”

Steven drops the last of his veggie wrap as a pair of kids rush past the bench he’d been hunched over. As he picks up the debris, he sees where one of them dropped their hat. He picks it up and half-jogs after them to return it.

“Gotta stay aware of our surroundings, yeah? Don’t want to lose our valuables.” The kid rolls their eyes but thanks him before running off to catch up with their friend.

“Oh my gosh, hi!”

Steven turns around to find you walking swiftly toward him, your smile too wide and tone too familiar.

He’s never seen you before.

“... hello,” he answers cautiously, taking one step back but failing to put much distance between the two of you. You practically cling to his side when you approach, takeaway cup and phone in hand.

“Sorry I’m late, but you are terrible at giving directions, mister.” Taking his arm, you begin to walk away from where you’d appeared.

This wouldn’t be the first time he’s forgotten conversations or plans. But as he racks his brain for something, anything tied to you in his memory, Steven notices the panic in your eyes and the slight waver in your voice.

Your hands shake a bit as you unlock your phone, passing your cup to him. He takes it, still bewildered but obedient. “I swear, the cafe never spells your name right. Let me make a note for next time.” You type swiftly, showing him the screen.

being followed, please pretend you're my boyfriend

Steven doesn’t know you.

But he nods, grasping your arm closer with his free hand and gives his most convincing grin. “Steven with a ‘V’, love.”

Relief instantly washes over your features and you relax a little. “Right. I’ll remember that… Steven.”

His smile grows before he remembers why you're holding onto him. “Do you want to sit down? Or go somewhere else, maybe I could call someone–”

“N-no, it’s fine. Let’s just sit. In plain sight,” you half-whisper. Steven nods, ushering you back to the bench in the middle of the busy square. When you sit, you don't let go of his arm.

Instead, you type into your phone as you speak. “Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?” Steven glaces at your notes app again.

do you see a man in a black jacket?

Steven scans the area, careful not to look too suspicious. Unlike the person he’s sure you’re referring to: a man in dark clothes, hands shoved into his pockets and rigid as he looks around with increasing urgency. His prominent frown grows when he sees Steven next to you.

“Yeah,” Steven says to both your questions. He looks away from the menacing figure, but sets your drink down and wraps his arm around you. He's glad to feel you settle into his side, still shaking but catching your breath.

“I take it you don’t know Mr. Black Jacket?”

“No, I do. Sort of. He’s a regular customer of mine,” you sigh. “One who doesn’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Ah.” Steven keeps the guy in his periphery, splitting his focus between him and you. “Stalker, then?”

You freeze up at the term. “Yeah… he’s been pretty relentless.” 

You meet his eyes, which are swiftly filling with concern. “Thanks again for… this. I usually find a mom or another woman to walk with me until he leaves, but I saw you with those kids and just… panicked, I guess.”

“S’not a problem, love.” Steven knocks your foot with his, drawing a small smile from you. “Glad to help you feel safe.”

You laugh a little. You let your gaze drift over to the man in black, an uneasy pit growing in your stomach when you briefly make eye contact.

“He usually goes away after a while. I've told the police, but they can't do anything unless he… you know.” Your brow furrows as your grip loosens. “I don't mean to take over your afternoon, but would you mind waiting with me?”

In that moment, you could have asked Steven for the moon and he'd find a way to lasso it down for you. 

He squeezes your hand. “‘Course I can. Lovely day with lovely company, quite the ideal afternoon in my books.” 

Steven dives right into talking about anything and everything that comes to mind– which, as you learn, is a lot. Normally he'd hit a wall after a few minutes, either because he'd realized he had talked himself in circles, or his less-than-captive audience was visibly zoned out. But you hang on his every word, grateful to be arm in arm with a stranger describing the supposed viscosity of ancient Egyptian embalming oil. It's a welcome distraction. 

So distracting, in fact, that after an hour you realize the crowd has thinned around you. With Mr. Black Jacket nowhere in sight.

“I think he's gone,” you sigh with relief. Steven stands when you do, handing your things back.

“Patience won out in the end,” he beams. You see a brief look of panic cross his features.

“He doesn't know where you live, does he? Do you need an escort?” Steven's already taken a ludicrously long lunch break, but the inevitable lecture from Donna would be worth it if it meant ensuring your safety.

You shake your head. “I've been careful.” Extending your hand, you smile. “It was nice to meet you, Steven with a ‘V’.”

“Likewise, love.” He shakes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Another look crosses his face before he continues.

“Do you want my mobile number?” His words come out too fast; if you hadn't spent the past hour listening to him, you might have missed what he said. “Just in case you need someone to wait with you again, or keep an eye out. Would that be alright?” He shakes his head, stepping back. “'Matter of fact, forget I said anything, don't want you to think you've traded one creep for another–”

“Sure.”

Your simple answer stops him in his tracks. “Oh, you don’t have to–”

“No, it’s fine. Really. When you offered, it felt nice to know someone could be in my corner on this side of town.”

You take out a scrap of paper and a pen from your bag. “How about this: you write it down, and I’ll add your contact if I ever need my knight in shining armor again.”

Steven concedes, pen and paper in hand as he scribbles his number down (then asks for a new paper in case the first was too illegible).

When you leave, he watches until you turn the corner. He goes the opposite direction, back to the museum. Part of him hopes you’ll never have to reach out, for your own sake. The rest of him hopes you do anyway.

_____________________

A/N: oh steven, the man that you are. a couple more bingo prompts will be focused on this dude, which is excellent practice for some exciting projects down the line...

as always, ty for reading <3

event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Always have but never hold

Next chapter

a/n lingered in my brain for a bit and now it's out here. Be gentle, it's my first time writing for this man. 😳🥺😭✨

warnings: fighting, kitchen accidents, swearing, mental health struggles.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fuck early Chicago mornings and the freezing temperatures that came with them. And add the people who promised bursts of sunshine and blue skies to the list. Fuck all of them and their predictions. Your grandma made better weather foretellings and landed straight on target with them.

You tightened your jacket closer to your body. Wrapping your hands around yourself. Well, the jacket wasn't yours. It was Carmy's, but you always preferred to wear his stuff. It soothed your anxiety. All the worries Made the early mornings more bearable. You don't remember the last time you two woke up in the same bed. You don't remember how the warmth of the morning, still wrapped up in the sheets, felt. Carmy would be off to the restaurant even before you. You tried to suggest that you just go together an hour or so later, but that only brought out a fight that left you two even further apart as it was. And it had gotten far away. You let his scent flow through your mind, chasing the nagging voice away. Yet already dreading the chaos of the day ahead.

Your phone starts ringing in your pocket. For a moment, you hesitated. Surely, it's too early for something serious to be going on. But then, don't all the scary things happen at the oddest hours? So you reach for it, frowning when you see Sugar's name lighting up the phone. You weren't close to Carmy's family. You had only met them briefly at the funeral. God, they didn't even know who you were. Nor did they care. Or maybe they cared too much.

"Hello", you said, clearing your throat right away. You hadn't spoken any words yet this morning, meaning the first hello sounded way too raspy. "Yeah, hi, it's early, isn't it", Sugar breathed, and you almost wanted to roll your eyes. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to it. Her voice sounded worried. "Did anything happen?", you trailed off. It's not like you two called each other out of the blue. You didn't just chat or go out for coffee. You didn't meet up for lunch or dinner. She had called you once, and it was only to ask if Carmy had wanted to keep any of Mikey's stuff. She was Natalie to you. Someone who might not even stop in the middle of the street to greet you.

"I've just been thinking about Carmy", she muttered quickly. You could hear her shuffling through some papers in the background. "What about him?", you said after a moment of silence. "Did you talk to him about the doctor I suggested? Maybe you two can even go together?", the words just spilled from her mouth, and you halted quickly, "You care for him, right? So take him". A light hint of anger picked up in your chest at that. They had all been pushing down on him. Do that. Do this. Carmy wasn't like them. He operated differently.

"Yeah, yeah, we spoke about it. He just doesn't want to do it now", you said calmly, changing the hand with which you'd been holding the phone so you could warm up your fingers in the jacket pocket. "He will never want to do it", Natalie grumbled back, "Did he even tell you about the times he couldn't breathe? Don't you notice that it's bad? It's scary". A chill ran down your spine. An image of Carmy holding onto his throat filled your brain. Hand gripping the sink as he gasped for air. Panicked eyes searched the room. Two am. Calling the ambulance. Crying in the bathroom before you even went to see him. Fuck, they knew about how scary it was, yet you only mumbled a quiet, "I know, yeah". A sigh leaves her mouth. "And you're not doing anything? He'll end up like...", but you pull your phone away from your ear, press the red button, and swallow quickly. You weren't going to think about it now. No. Not now. Not never. Carmy wasn't going to end up like this. He just wasn't.

You rounded the last corner, quickly pushing your key into the door before letting yourself in. The warmth of the restaurant soothed your cold skin. You thought about giving yourself a moment to compose yourself, but then you were already late. So you quickly undid the jacket. "Where's my fucking knife? Have you seen my knife?", Carmy's voice echoed through the space. You quickly dropped your stuff at the corner of his desk in the office before walking into the kitchen.

"Morning", you smiled up at everyone, and someone grumbled in return. The tension in the kitchen was already brutal. "Your cigarette is on the table, Tina", You turned her way, and she flashed you a smile. "Lord knows, I'll need a whole pack of them today". She had been the only one who hadn't thrown a fit about your being here. She wasn't flowing with joy, but it was by far the best way you've been greeted since moving back to Chicago with Carmy.

"Behind", Carmy shouted again, moving past the rest of the kitchen with a tray of meat in his hands. He didn't even glance your way. He wasn't someone to go lovely dovey in front of the others yet it stung. To your surprise, he turned your way. Eyes softened at the sight of you, and all of the nagging thoughts drained. "Hey", he muttered, reaching for your hand and squeezing it gently. "We prep, then the papers?", he asked, already bearing for the tray with vegetables. You quickly nodded before reaching for the knife yourself.

"They fucked the order? Why the hell do I care that they don't have my shit in stock", Carmy ran his hand through his hair in frustration, "I'll call them again; this is just...", "Why don't you take a break? Breathe for a moment", you said, lowering the order papers onto the desk. Eyes searching his. You've only been in the office for ten minutes, and all that time Carmy had been shouting. A frustrated sigh left his lips as he buried his face in his hands. You stepped closer, your fingers instantly reaching for his hair. Running your fingers through his curls, you let him do what felt best, and Carmen wasted no time in bringing his hands up to rest on your hips, his face buried in your stomach. He let out a frustrated growl, and then the place went silent.

"Talk to me. Say anything", his voice was barely a mutter, but you heard him perfectly. He did this often. Whenever the voices in his head got too loud, he would ask you to speak. Tell him whatever pops into your head. It didn't even have to make sense. He just needed to hear it. The smooth sound of your voice. "We ran out of milk, and I managed to put on a wash before I left", Your fingers dragged down his neck and shoulders. "We'll have clean sheets; can you believe it?", you chuckled softly. The apartment looked like shit if you were being honest, but then you spend so little time there these days.

"We can buy milk on our way back", Carmy said, pulling away slightly. "Yeah, we sure can", you hummed. Just as a knock made you both turn toward the door, A dark-skinned girl with big eyes stood there, looking at Carmy as if she had seen a holy spirit. "I... I... I want to help with the kitchen. To work, I mean", she stuttered, and you instantly turned to her fully. "We talked yesterday, didn't we?", You reached your hand towards her, and she shook it gently. "We sure can use a second set of hands", You smiled at her, yet her eyes didn't leave Carmy. "Sydney and... My resume", she handed the papers to Carmy, who flipped through them straight away.

In a perfect world with a perfect system, you would have loved to give her a rundown of the place. Unfortunately, this wasn't a normal place, nor was the situation normal. So Sydney was left to listen to the constant swearing and bickering of everyone else. It was half-decent until Richie showed up. Shouting at the top of his lungs about all that Carmy was doing wrong. And that fucking pasta of his. You gripped the knife tighter but stayed out of it. This wasn't a fight you wanted to be a part of.

"As if we need another know-it-all in the kitchen. Don't need that fancy shit,", he barked, glaring at the girl. Sydney's head was hung low, but she too said nothing. Doing her thing as she got ready for family. "We don't need this shit; it was fine till Carmy stepped in, fine till you showed up", Richie slurred, and the last straw snapped within you: "Get your head out of your ass and drop it", your glare met him, and you could feel the way all of the anger within him now ran directly to you. Boiled even more because of you.

"And who's talking? One more burden Carmen dragged from New York", he spat, stepping closer to you, no doubt trying to intimidate you, but you didn't back away. "We should have lost you at the airport", he said bitterly. "What will your art degree do for us? Want to paint walls, sweetie?". You were so glad that he had turned away from you after the words left his mouth because you were a moment away from...

"Jesus, Y/N.", Tina's voice made you blink a couple of times. You felt her finger on your palms, and your gaze followed her touch. The chopping board was covered in blood. You must have lost track of your movements and senses. Trying too hard to keep your composure. Or maybe Richie's words hurt worse than the cut palm. "Cover for me, Sydney", you muttered, pulling the towel from your shoulder and pressing it to the wound. "Don't you need...", she tried to interfere. "Just fucking cover for me, please".

Slamming the freezer door shut, you let your back hit the side shelf. God, you were glad Carmy wasn't here. That call from the butcher couldn't have come at a better time. Richie was your headache to carry. Adding that to Carmen's shoulders won't help. He had hated you from the moment you showed up. You always cared too much and too little in his eyes. You tried to reason with him. He was grieving too, but fuck was he an ass when he wanted to be. And he wanted to be most of the time. Angry tears ran down your cheeks. You were just so fucking tired. So tired of it all. Of the shouting. Of the worrying.

"We don't have time. Where the fuck is she? The vegetables won't cook themselves", Carmy's voice ran through the freezer. You pressed your fingers into your eyes, gritting your teeth for a moment before stepping out. "On them, chef", you called out, wrapping the bandage around your hand messily. As long as it stopped the blood, it would have to do. And Carmy was a split second away from shouting again until his eyes fell on your palm.

"What the fuck happened?", he asked, marching forward. Forgetting all the corners, behinds, and whatnot. "Nothing happened", you muttered, turning to Sydney, "I'll take it from here, thanks". But Carmy caught your wrist and said, "Like hell, you will; what the fuck happened?". You knew that this all was coming from a good place, but the tone of his voice didn't soothe you. "We have shit to do, chef", you said, waving your head out of his grip and turning your back to him.

You hoped he would just walk away. Just drop it. Let it be. Let it all sizzle out. "Learn to fucking hold a knife", he grunted, his hand came into contact with your injured palm as he pressed it firmly onto the handle, making you whine in pain. "Hold it for fuck sake", he barked again, only tightening his grip as if he was blind to the blood seeping through the bandage. "I fucking am", You ripped his hand away with your other hand, pushing at his chest to get him away from you.

"Stop being a crybaby and be useful for once", Carmy's words left you defenseless. Your body froze. Cold shivers running down your back. You surely didn't hear it right. Carmy threw the knife across the table and turned his back away from you. Was he about to walk away? Just like that. Like nothing happened. "Fuck you", you threw the same bloody towel his way, "If I'm so fucking useless, feel free to find someone else", Carmy halted in his steps, but he didn't turn around. Clapping filled your ears, and you found smug-looking Richie, beaming like the promised sun today, saying, "Should have been an actress". You bit the inside of your cheek. Quickly undo your apron before storming outside.

[strawwiibernyy]

Friendzone - Yang J.

_____________________

[Bestfriend!Jungwon x Fem!Reader]

warnings! slight angst, mentions of suggestive things, mention of a chinese stereotype (that they have small d).

words: 5,5k

╰┈➤ You and Jungwon have been best friends since forever. You shared all your secrets with each other and did all the kind of activities together. However, the feelings he brought to you weren't friendly as his.

_____________________

"Who is this?" The little girl in front of you placed her finger on your phone's screen. It had gone dark, but when it felt the touch of the girl, it light up again. Then the girl traced her finger on the wallpaper, stopping at the boy next to you.

"Oh, him? My best friend." You giggled awkwardly, taking your phone away from your little cousin. It was a photo of you and Jungwon in your bedroom eating pizza. You had your tongue out while Jungwon was taking a big bite from his piece.

You met your best friend in the first grade of middle school. It was a hard year for you, since you didn't have a particular friend group. The only person you had was Sunoo, a family's friend.

"Y/N, one of my friends wants help with his English homework. I talked about you to him. Is that okay?" Your breath got stuck in your throat while Sunoo was slurping up his noodles.

Looking over at the thousand tables inside your school's cafeteria, your eyes locked on six boys. They were all so tall and handsome. How would you be able to focus on tutoring one of them?

"No, i-it's alright." Your wide eyes turned back to your friend. Later that day, one of them came up to talk to you. His name was Yang Jungwon, same age as you.

"So, are you Y/N?"

"Yes."

"Great." The boy smiled, revealing his dimples. You wanted to pock them, but of course, that scenario stayed in your mind. "I was wondering if you could help me with my English homework. If you have time."

"No, it's alright. I can help you."

And since that day, you and Jungwon have been stuck together. The brunette boy would wave at you every time he saw you at hallways. Sometimes, he would even talk to you. Asking about your day and such. It made you happy to talk to him.

"Look, I got 81% in my English test!" Jungwon put his paper on your face, hiding his huge smile behind it. You didn't care about the test, you preferred to see his smile and dimples.

"Congratulations!"

"We have to go out and celebrate it. How about for an ice cream?" Your smile dropped, freezing in place. Was the cat-like boy in front of you asking you out?

You were trying to find the right words to respond while Jungwon was still talking. You would love to go out with him, but you know yourself. Going out with a pretty boy like him wouldn't be so easy as tutoring him.

It needed ten study sessions with him in order not to blush anytime he brought his head closer to yours. This was an innocent move. Either narrowing his eyes to see better, or leaning closer to hear you.

However, your heartbeat raised when he did that. His fluffy hair had the scent of white musk. Every time he leaned in, you were trying to sniff that scent. It sounds weird, but it was a very precious moment for you.

Now that he wanted to hang out with you, what would you do? The response was obviously going to be yes. Even if you were afraid to talk loud. Even if the only words you could form around him were "hello" or "thank you". His presence only was enough to make your stomach twirl.

All the signs were clear. They formed a big label inside your brain which said "You like him." And despite all that, you didn't understand how you turned out to become best friends with him.

"Shit-" You mouthed, leaving your ice cream aside. Gripping your white shirt, you eyed the big stain from your caramel ice cream. It was fresh, some ice cream still dripping to the rest of it. Jungwon laughed at the sight while you were trying to wipe the ice cream with your hand.

"You have become a mess." He laughed, leaving his ice cream aside. "Wait, let me do it for you." The boy pulled a tissue out. Your cheeks heated up when he kneeled in front of you.

"Jungwon, you don't have to-"

"No." He cut you off, wiping with the tissue your shirt. His knees were sitting on the hard floor of the park. Tiny rocks were scratching it, but he didn't seem to care. With gentle movements, he was brushing the tissue up and down your shirt.

"It's my pleasure." Jungwon raised his head to look up at you. His brown eyes were sparkling against the sunlight. His charming smile with those dimples that you so much loved. "You are such an idiot."

"Hey!" His sudden words made you big-eyed. A breathy laugh escaped your throat, playfully hitting his shoulder. Jungwon laughed as well, and butterflies filled your stomach.

There is no way you can be only friends with him.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

Or maybe there was. Because Jungwon didn't like you back.

Those desires buried deep in your heart. You wanted to say words that friends don't say to each other. You wanted to wrap your hands around him and kiss his cheek.

But he doesn't see you that way. And you were sure about it. With him constantly in your mind, other boys were crossed away from the picture. Not that you had a lot of options, but even those a few confessions were all rejected.

However, this wasn't the case with Jungwon.

"Go Wonnie!" A girl screamed on top of her lungs, making you jump in place. Jungwon was in the football club. Your middle school had two teams fighting against each other. You were sitting at the benches, along with some other girls on the other side.

Jungwon was running along the field. The ball was currently on Heeseung's legs and the boy was waiting for the pass. Heeseung spotted him, and he kicked the ball to Jungwon.

You gripped the edge of your skirt, bitting your lip. Jungwon seemed to struggle to keep the ball. Most boys of the other team had gone up to him, and Jungwon's face scratched in annoyance.

And then, Jungwon took the risk of kicking the ball. And the ball went in light speed over the net. The goalkeeper fell to the side and Jungwon scored. You stood up and began to cheer.

You wanted to scream for your best friend. Jumping up and down in place, you threw your hands in the air. Some shouts left your mouth, but the shouts of his fans overpowered yours.

"Jungwon, congratulations!" The girl screamed. She was pretty. A very skinny girl with long brown hair. She would look perfect next to Jungwon. But you wanted to be next to Jungwon.

"AHHHH!" All the girls stood up, looking wide-eyed at your best friend. So many loud screams. Even louder than the rest. Jungwon had raised his shirt, wiping the sweat off of his forehead.

He was doing it on purpose. The shirt riding up his body, revealing his hard abs. You didn't know your kind best friend had such a build like that. You had noticed his broad shoulders with his sleeveless shirts. However, this was a new sight.

A deep shade of red crossed your cheeks, stopping all your actions. You stood there unmoved. Your eyes couldn't move from his body. Not even after his shirt covered it again.

The boy turned to look at the bench. A smirk made its way to his lips, moisturizing them with his tongue. Jungwon knew you were there. But his eyes went on the girl on the other side.

His biggest fan was currently screaming. When she locked eyes with Jungwon, the boy winked at her. And your heart shuttered into thousand pieces.

After the match ended, Jungwon came to the benches. You stood up, thinking he was coming to see his best friend, you. Yet the boy walked over to the girl from before, giving her a warm smile.

That wasn't right. You wanted to be the only one to see him smile. His dimples belonged to you. Your finger will be the only one to touch them.

Even if you could be next to him as only his best friend.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

After so many years, the last grade of high school came, and you still hadn't confessed. Your teenage years would end, and then who knows if you would see Jungwon again or not?

All those years that you spend loving him. This was the time to repay yourself. And that gift would be setting your heart at peace. He would either accept you or reject you. In both scenarios, your friendship with him would be destroyed. And that is something you don't want.

Y/N

Won, where are you?

Jungwon

I am sick 😪. Can you send

me the notes after class?

Y/N

Okieeee

"Y/N, where is Jungwon today?" Your friend asked you as you tapped on the screen. A smile went up your lips when the boy liked your message. A red heart under your message that you whished indicated something.

"He is ill. And I told him not to practice outside with a weather like that." You left your phone aside, turning back to your friends at the table. It was lunchtime, and Jungwon was missing.

"Other news? Who was that guy you hooked up with yesterday?" The girl that asked now had turned to your Japanese friend. Her name was Sayuri, a brunette girl with chubby cheeks.

"Oh, he was so good at kissing! His name was Xiaosi, a Chinese."

"Chinese? You know what they say about Chinese guys." Another girl spoke, her eyebrows frowning in disgust. You choked on your food hearing her words, while the rest of the girls laughed.

"Well, there are expectations, you know? Not that I saw anything."

When they talked about things like that, you stay silent. Not because you felt uncomfortable. A teenage girl, after all, would like to talk about things like that as well.

The truth was that you didn't even have your first kiss yet. All those years of waiting for Jungwon. You couldn't imagine any other guy being your first kiss. It belonged to Jungwon, who you loved and trusted with your entire life.

Talks like this were brought up a lot among you and your friends. However, you never felt bad about your inexperience. Not until now. It was the last year of high school and your lips were still virgin.

You had even talked about it with Jungwon. While watching a movie at your house, you decided to ask him the big question.

"Have you done something more than kissing with a girl?" You shattered, shallowing down a hard knot on your neck. Jungwon turned to look at you with a frown. Clearly he got surprised by your question.

"Y-yes." Your eyes got wide, and Jungwon chuckled at your reaction. So your best friend has moved on with a girl too? You were the only one falling behind because you were waiting for him. And he wasn't.

You felt bad. You wanted to feel the lips of another human on yours too. This feeling that people describe. When you were younger, you couldn't understand the power of skinship. Since you met Jungwon, your hands looked for his soft skin.

"Y/N, are you okay?" One of them asked you, seeing your blank gaze. Shaking your head, you turned towards them. Your nod was enough to secure them, continuing their conversation.

Those thoughts wouldn't go away. And would force you to ask for help from a boy. From a very familiar boy.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

"I am finally healed!" Jungwon said, stretching out his hands. Walking around the park with your ice creams was a habit between the two of you. Even claiming a particular bench to sit every time.

"But it was good not coming to school. I can't wait till this hell ends." He continued, taking a spoon of his ice cream. He couldn't wait like usual till arriving at the bench. Then you would chuckle at his impatience.

But you didn't. Other thoughts had filled your head. Like you were in a different place from Jungwon. The memories taking you back to the lunch table with your friends instead.

'They have done so much with their boyfriends, and I haven't even given my first kiss yet.'

"You don't seem too good though." Jungwon flicked your forehead, pulling you away from your thoughts. You turned back to him, messaging your forehead. You had arrived at the bench, and Jungwon was already sitting.

Sitting down, you began to slowly eating your ice cream while he talked. He talked and talked, but you couldn't hear. You felt done with this. You wanted to speak up.

"Jungwon, I feel I am falling behind." You finally said, making his mouth shut. He was confused. You didn't dare to look him in the eye as you spoke.

"What do you mean? You have very good grades. If someone should be worried, it's me who is again falling in English. We should repeat those study sessions some day."

"No, I mean in a social matter." You tried to explain, raising your gaze to look at him. His eyebrows had come together, looking around for a clue behind your words.

"S-social matter?"

"I mean, ah!" Your cup of ice cream hit the bench, now fully focusing on the boy in front of you. "Jungwon, you had so many girlfriends with who you did more than just making out. I don't even have my first kiss yet!"

"And? What about it?"

"What do you mean what about it?" You scoffed, getting impatient with your friend. "I want to live like a normal teenager too! At least not have virgin lips anymore. Ah, you don't understand."

Your head fell on your lap. It was so embarrassing confessing those thoughts. And Jungwon couldn't catch on them. You shouldn't have even thought of asking for his help.

However, after a while, Jungwon finally seemed to understand.

A sigh left his mouth, leaving his cup next to yours. You could feel him move around the bench and coming closer to you. But you didn't dare to look neither act. Instead, you waited for his next moves.

"I thought it didn't bother you." He whispered, and you felt his warm hand cupping your cheek. It forced you to raise your head and look at him. His bored eyes pinned on your tinted lips. "I can help you."

And with that, he smashed his lips on yours. Your eyes flew big at the touch of his soft lips. They were slightly brushing yours, hardly feeling his skin. However, once the first few seconds passed, and you didn't pull away, he got more comfortable.

His free hand rested on your hip as your lips danced with his. Those plum lips that you fantasised since you were twelve, they were on yours. His tongue wetted your lips before trying to enter your mouth.

When you felt his tongue sitting at the top of yours, you realized this had gone too far. Your hands pushed his chest away, and then they went to your lips. Some of Jungwon's saliva was still on them.

"Jungwon-"

"I am sorry." He cut you off, gripping his hair. "But don't worry, it's not like we are a couple or anything."

"What?" You froze, removing your hands from your lips. Your chest hurt and it wasn't from the boundless love you had for him. Regret. Jungwon was awkwardly laughing in front of you while tears were threating to escape your eyes.

"We are best friends. I was only helping you, right?"

That's what you wanted from him. To kiss you so you will feel included. Nothing more, nothing less. You already knew that his side was only friendly.

Then why did it hurt you so much to hear it from him?

It was wrong. You shouldn't have. Now you will have to bear the pain of both being rejected by your crush and losing your best friend. This was not what you wanted. You were dumb to think this could work out while your feelings get stronger by each day passing.

"Y/N-"

"I have to go." Some tears left without your permission. They ran down your cheek and then fell on your shirt. Jungwon noticed those tears falling, and it made him freeze.

"Y/N, wait!" You ignored his shoutings as you ran around the park. The park that you hanged out with Jungwon for the first time. The park that you hanged out with Jungwon for probably the last time today.

You hated yourself for being mad at him. For feeling all those emotions that you shouldn't do. He hadn't promised anything. Neither did he had to help you.

Then why your heart hurt for him?

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

The next day, you didn't talk to Jungwon. You were avoiding him at all costs. Every time you walked in the same hallway as him, you would rush back from where you came. Or hide in the toilets.

It was lunchtime, and you filled your tray with every kind of sweet. Some miso soup, rice, an apple and an orange juice. Your eyes wondered between the tables, only to lock on Jungwon.

Even though you and Jungwon were best friends, you both had different friend groups. Sometimes, he would come over to yours and you to his, but not frequently.

Today was the days that Jungwon had settled on your table. You knew he must have sat there on purpose. He wasn't dumb. He had noticed how you ignored him all day.

The only words he had heard from you was 'hi', before you again rushed away to your friends. You had put yourself in an awkward situation. But you couldn't pretend you were just friends with him after what happened at the park.

No. Not anymore.

"Y/N, where are you going?" One of your friends shouted, seeing you exiting the cafeteria. After placing the tray on the table, you left before your friends could welcome you. Before Jungwon could welcome you.

Footsteps were heard behind you. However, you thought of them as a stranger's ones. Thousand of students were entering and exiting the cafeteria every minute. Yet you frowned when those footsteps continued behind you.

Till the person that was chasing you covered your view.

Jungwon was in front of you, panting. His cheeks were red from running to catch up to you. His uniform wrinkled and his hair was messy. When you watched his fluffy hair, you had this huge urge to play with them.

"Y/N, can you stop ignoring me?" You stood there unmoved. Wide eyes looking over at Jungwon's brown ones. Then they fell to his lips, which were breathing in and out oxygen. Now he had straightened his back, appearing taller than you.

"Jungwon, I have to go to the bathroom-"

"No, you don't." Within seconds, he teleported in front of you. His right hand grabbed your wrist. Strong fingers wrapping around it, reddening the flesh. "When you will stop this little game?"

"It's not a g-game." You shattered, your head hanging low. All the kinds of lies crossed your mind to escape the situation. Yet Jungwon knew you too well to not catch them. It was the time that you had to stand in front of him and talk about your feelings.

It came sooner than you thought.

"Then what is all this? I told you that kiss meant nothing, so why are you acting like this?!"

"Because it meant something to me!" Suddenly, his rough side disappeared in the blink of an eye. Those fingers that marked your skin relaxed, and his furrowed eyebrows raised together from widening his eyes.

This Jungwon was something that you had never seen before. Rough and strict. It lasted for a few minutes, but his face got engraved in your mind. His soft voice had turned into a stern one that made your heart beat in fear.

Now the Jungwon in front of you was like the old one. The very, very old one. The shy and kind boy you had met in middle school. The boy which got red if a girl looked him into his eyes. The boy that only got red if you looked him into his eyes.

"What are you saying?"

"I can't pretend we are just friends, Jungwon." Those words that you held back for so many years finally were coming at the surface. It was refreshing, and at the same time painful. Hot tears ran down your cheeks, and Jungwon stepped back at the sight.

And your confession didn't stop there. You wanted to say everything. Every single thing that was sitting on your mind these past years. Ever since you met him till now.

"I loved you ever since first grade. You were so kind and caring, not like other boys. I know you think of me as a friend, but I don't. And I can't do this anymore!"

"Y/N, wait up a little-"

"I have to go." And you ran. And ran, and ran, till you exited school. Behind you was Jungwon. He was running after you, like back when you were kids. You would steal his water bottle and then he would run behind you to take it back.

It was all about the laughs and giggles. But now tears had replaced them. Jungwon's shouts made your eyes clench shut even harder to hold back the tears. His voice was like before. Loud and strict.

"Y/N, I said wait!" Your body felt weak. Your legs disappointing you. However, you were able to find a hiding spot. Rushing into a random room outside of your school, you closed the door behind.

It was dark. The dusk made you sneeze, and it echoed through the room. You could still hear Jungwon's steps outside of the door. His black shoes brushing the grass and mixing with the mud.

After a while, the boy gave up. A sigh left his mouth. Placing his hands in his pockets, he left. He left, leaving you behind in that room. Your back hit the wall as you slowly fell down.

Your hair became tangled. Your skirt had ridden up to your things, and you fixed the cloth. Touching the floor at each side of your body, you remembered something.

You had to go back to get your bag. But you had to face Jungwon again.

With heavy steps, you dragged yourself out. The bell had rang and all the students had returned to their classes. All the students expect you. With puffy eyes and stained tears on your face, you walked to your house.

Once you arrived, you locked yourself in your bedroom. There, you could grieve for your heartbreak all you wanted. Sending a message to your friends to bring your bag after school, you put on your headphones.

You excused yourself with sickness. Hursh headaches and stomach ache. Well, you had both of them, but not from a sickness. From how much you had cried, you could hardly breathe.

It shouldn't have been like this from the start. Pretending to be best friends with Jungwon while your feelings grew each day that passed. Sitting alone in your bedroom, you wondered to yourself,

'Will I ever get over Jungwon?'

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

Night came fast, and no message from Jungwon. It was midnight and your parents were sleeping. On the other hand, you couldn't seem to relax.

The same scene was replaying in your mind: your confession to Jungwon. Remembering how you desperately ran away from the boy. Remembering Jungwon's shouts.

You didn't want to remember. But your mind wanted to torture you. Every time it would drift somewhere else, something would remind you of the scene.

Messages on your phone, or a knock on your door. However, those were from your friends. They returned your bag, and you quickly shut them off.

A movie would be a good distraction. Now that your parents are asleep, you can sit in the living room. Getting your things, you walked down to the living room.

Your fingers tapped at the tv remote, searching for something. Usually, you would put on a romantic one. Where the guy is in love with the girl and he would do anything for her.

The last thing you wanted was to watch a romance movie. See all those happy couples while you got heartbroken. The safest option would be an action one. Or maybe a Disney one.

No, that was worse. Jungwon loves Disney movies. His favorite one is Aladdin. You and him have watched it more than four times together. And Jungwon's sparkling eyes stayed the same through the movie.

Settling on a detective one, you tapped on the tv remote. Next to you was sitting a bag of chips. Grabbing it, you began to throw some in your mouth.

All seemed peaceful till now. The movie was enjoyable, and the snack was enough to distract you. Your mind wouldn't go to Jungwon. And even if it went, tears didn't fill your eyelids anymore.

Not that you had a lot of them left. You have wasted all of them on the charming boy.

And between the silence, a knock was heard.

'No, it must be my imagination.'

Another knock. It wasn't a hallucination. There was someone outside your door, knocking aggressively at midnight. Fear washed over you. Leaving the bag of chips on the couch, you walked towards the door.

The knocks continued, and you looked through your window at the visitor.

And your eyes got wide.

"Jungwon?" You opened the door to reveal a soaked Jungwon. His wet hair was stuck on his forehead, and his clothes clinged to his body. Rain drops were tracing his face softly. Stopping on his lips, wetting them.

It was the first time you felt jealous of the rain.

"What are you doing here at such an hour? And under the rain?"

"Y/N." Was all he said. His body was weak, and a cough left his mouth. He had gotten sick. Taking some steps closer to you, he opened his mouth to say something.

"Jungwon, why? Come inside."

"Y/N!" He pushed your hands away from him. His eyes were falling close as he forced them open. Your hands went to stabilize him, but he declined them again. "You need to hear me."

"Yes, but can I hear you inside?" You replied, pointing with your hand inside the house. If your parents woke up, you would be dead from embarrassment. But now you had to take care of your best friend.

"No! I will tell you now. I have to tell you, ah." His condition was bad. He couldn't stop coughing and his body moved like jelly. He could fall anytime in your arms.

"Y/N, I love you. I always did. Well, not from first grade like you. But once I got to know you, I couldn't help it. You are so cool and kind, and so, so beautiful."

You stood there like an idiot, trying to progress his words. All this time. All this time that you thought your feelings couldn't be returned.

"Really now?" You choked on your words, tears falling again from your eyes. After all, you had more inside you. More raw emotion that you wanted to show to him. To your best friend.

"If you had let me reply, we could avoid all this." He said, coming closer. His fingertip brushed your cheek. Between the rain, your tears weren't visible. He had to feel them, hot running down your skin.

"I am sorry." You replied, sniffing. Jungwon's face was so close. His lips were begging you to interlock with yours. Even if you tried, Jungwon wouldn't let you get sick.

He was always so careful with you.

"It's not that easy. You have to make it up to me." Your eyebrows came together at his words.

"Make up? How?"

"Be my girlfriend." This simple sentence. Those words that will transform your relationship with Jungwon from best friends to an official couple. A huge smile went to your lips. You wondered if Jungwon really had agony to hear your response.

"Yes!" You fell into his arms and you flew on cloud nine. Jungwon was yours, and not as your best friend anymore. But as your boyfriend.

Now you can go on cute dates with him. Share a cake with him only for you to eat the most. But he would just laugh it off and pinch your cheek.

You can kiss him wherever you want and like. Hug him as much as you like and do all those stuff your friends talk about. Let him drown you in his eternal love. And as you will fall deeper, the bigger the smile will get on your lips.

Because you love Jungwon like none else, and he does too.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．*Time Skip*

"Unnie!" Your little cousin shouted, jumping in your arms. A giggle left your mouth, wrapping your hands around the kid. Even if the girl was still young, her hands struggled you.

"Ah, wait-" You spoke, trying to escape her grip. The little cousin finally left you, and you went to talk to her parents. Going back to your village every summer was a must for you.

You missed your aunt and your uncle. But mostly, that little creature. It was like the sister you never had. Sitting out with her on the balcony was a tradition. And then you would go out to buy her sweets.

"So tell me, how has school been so far?" You ask, chewing an almond covered in chocolate. The girl took one in her mouth too, before speaking. Her nose scratched at the mention of school.

"Middle school sucks. All the kids there are crazy! Especially the boys. One of my classmates licked a lollipop that he found on the floor." She said, sticking her tongue out in disgust.

"Yeah, some boys are like this."

"But I have found a boy who isn't like that." She blurted out, her face relaxing. She looked around the at the view, while a cunning smirk went up to your lips.

"Really? And what about him?"

"Well, he is shy and introverted. He is the best student in our class, but it's not like he is a nerd. He is very pretty!" She replied, widening her eyes at the last sentence.

"And? That's it?"

"Um, we talk from time to time. He asked me about my number too." You felt butterflies filling your stomach at the familiar emotion. Her time had come too. It brought happy tears to your eyes.

"Whatever happens with that boy." You began, taking her hands into yours. "Always speak your emotions. Don't run away from them." The girl frowned at the advice, but it meant a lot to you.

It meant a lot for a person to be brave. Face their emotions as they are and not be afraid to express them. When people hear that, they think of it as something useless.

However, it is that one thing that will get you forward with your life. And with that, you will reach the absolute of happiness.

The sweet moment was interrupted by the sound of your phone. The screen light up while the audio went on. You read the name on the screen.

'Wonnie'

"Wonnie? Who is that?" Your little cousin said, leaning in to look at the name on display. The call ended when you didn't pick it up, and you went to send a message to Jungwon. Your fingers tapped on the screen, explaining that you couldn't talk right now and you will call him later.

"You don't remember? The guy on my wallpaper." You replied, showing her the new wallpaper. The people hadn't changed, only the theme. In the old one, you and Jungwon were eating pizza. In the new one, you and Jungwon were hugging tightly while smiling at each other.

"You never told me his name." The girl said, raising one of her eyebrows. "He is your best friend, isn't he?"

"Almost." You said, smiling at yourself. Looking at the screen, your finger tapped softly to reveal the wallpaper again. Now it had changed. It was you and Jungwon kissing.

"He is my boyfriend."

_____________________

A/N: I have a serious obsession with Jungwon. Btw, sorry for the late update I was on vacation.

© all rights reserved to me — i do not allow anyone to copy, translate, or repost my works. all my stories are purerly fictional.

[ssentimentals]

a pleasant surprise {lee chan}

pairing: dino x fem!reader

prompt: 'is that my shirt?' + 'i love it when you moan my name' (this work is part of my 1k event, go check out other works of mine here)

warnings: nsfw (minors, this work is a no-no for you), blowjob, whipped channie, unprotected sex (which is also a no-no but this time for everyone), a tiiiiny bit of dirty talking

chan doesn't find stereotypical 'sexy' things enticing at all. low cleveage, clothes that hug one's body like a second skin, high heels, red lips - all those attributes don't provoke anything in him; he doesn't have anything against them, they just don't affect him in any way. there are other things that excite him and have blood rushing south - you and anything about you, for example. he used to have some views on what is pretty and sexy before but after your appereance in his life, all those criterias changed drasticallly and took a shape of you in a way that is a bit embarrassing to admit. hair color that he finds pretty? exactly like yours. style he prefers on girls? the way you dress. what he looks for in a girl? everything that you have and nothing else. 'don't wait up for me, i'll stay the night,' he says loudly to his roommate.

jeonghan snorts unattractively. 'when you haven't? stop pushing your lovey-dovey relationship right into my face and get out of here.'

chan grins. he knows there's no bite in those words and turns around, sending his roommate a wink. 'don't choke on your jealousy while i'm gone.'

'brat!' jeonghan throws a pillow at him and dino easily ducks, making hannie smile. he may tease him a lot, but in reality he's very happy for his friend. 'get your stupid face out of here!'

'already gone!'

chan never understood this game some people play of acting cold. holding yourself back, not replying as soon as you saw the message, getting late to the dates... all of it doesn't make sense to him. chan's enthusiasm towards you is not subtle at all and he never tried to hold himself back. why would he? he's always happy to see you, always rushes to see you, always eager to reply and meet up. that's why he's practically running to your place, breath coming in short puffs as he speeds up at his maximum. casual and chill nights with you are his favorite and memory of your warm body plastered to his makes him smile widely. he sprints to your room and bangs loudly, taking few seconds to catch his breath.

'coming!' you open up, staring at him with a wide grin. 'that was fast, did you run here?'

'i'm always running to you,' he replies cheekily, loving how even after so many months his words still bring blush on your cheeks. 'and-'

chan freezes. he didn't notice at first, but now when you step back and walk towards your bed, he can see very well what you're wearing and his brain shuts off for a second. yes, chan doesn't find a lot of stereotypically sexy things enticing at all, but this? you wearing this? that's the top on his sexy things list. he closes the door automatically and doesn't move away from his place, following your moving figure with his eyes hungrily.

'i think we can continue watching that anime or if not, i downloaded several movies-' you turn, frowning at his unmoved state. 'channie? why are you still standing there?'

'is that my shirt?' he rasps out, suddenly having trouble swallowing.

you quickly look yourself up and down, shrugging. 'oh yeah, i found it in the closet. it's a bit big on me, but that's fine.'

in chan's humble opinion simple 'that's fine' doesn't cover it. his t-shirt which is voersied even on him reaches right up to the middle of your thighs and it does things to him that he's ashamed to admit. familiar heat coils in the pit of his stomach and he swallows dryly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dropping it on the table nearby. you wearing his clothes is a plesant surprise, the one that makes his heart beat a little bit faster and his hands itch with desire to touch.

'channie?' you call, confused. 'is everything-'

'please tell me you're not wearing anything underneath,' he interrupts. 'please.'

'i-' you gasp when he suddenly crosses the distance between you two in a blink of an eye. 'um, there is-'

he doesn't let you finish. chan is not known for being a patient person in general and how can he stay patient right now, when you're looking the way you do right in front of him? his hands are on you in instant, reverently feeling up your legs, groaning like he's in pain when he realizes that you're not wearing any shorts. your silky skin makes him salivate in a really unattractive and maybe even concerning way and he licks his lips, staring down at you with lust blown eyes. 'this is such a nice surprise,' he mutters, pushing you towards the bed. 'the best outfit. you should always greet me looking like that.'

you laugh at this and he softens instantly, looking up at you. your laugh is one of his favorite sounds, it makes his heart skip a beat every single time when he hears. that probably isn't very healthy, but chan doesn't care when it comes to you; you make his heart perform acrobatics in his chest and he doesn't even blink, will gladly rip it open for you to see so you'd know what you do to him.

'what's gotten into you, my god,' you laugh as he throws you onto the bed. 'chan!'

he grins when at your loud squeak as he pounces on you, settling his body on top of yours. you struggle, obviously finding it hard to breathe, but chan just lays motionless, grinning at your futile attempts of escaping. 'you've gotten into me,' he replies hotly, finding your mouth with his. 'all's your fault.'

kissing you is like coming up for air when you've been underwater for way too long. it feels like taking that very first breath of air, filling your lungs with it and realizing that you're saved. chan kisses you with all he has every time, never holds back, fueled by idea that if this might be the last kiss then you'll know how much he loved you. he gives it all for you, to you and you respond to it in such a majestic way that it knocks all the breath out of him. your body is his favorite instrument and he knows what to touch and how to do it to make your head cloud with pleasure. he uses it to his advantage, loves watching you turn into a writhing mess under him.

'feels good,' you breathe out when he finally tugs away his t-shirt from you, grasping your breasts.

'yeah?' chan grins, leaning in to lick a fat stripe on your collarbones. 'wanna make you feel even better.'

chan is a pleaser. he likes making you feel good, better than good. he likes hearing your moans, likes knowing that he's the reason of them. likes playing with your breasts and biting lightly on your nipples to make you groan loudly. likes when you first your hands into his hair and tug, when he gets a bit too harsh with his bite marks. likes when you pointedly try to push his head downwards, always shy to speak up and tell exactly what you want. when your chest is covered in tiny marks almost everywhere, only then chan relents, leaning back to admire his work. exquisite. he is so, so in love.

'channie,' you whine, pushing your legs together in a subtle way of asking for attention there.

'hm? you want something?' he asks, fully leaning back and taking a hold of your knees. 'something in particular?' he pushes your knees to the sides, easily fitting himself between your legs. 'what is it?'

you huff in annoyance and try to glare at him, but your hair is a mess and your lips are shiny and swollen from kisses and you look fucked out so your glare is very ineffective in that state. chan chuckles and gets out of the bed to stand right next to it and pointedly reaches for his belt, quickly opening it. 'i think it's your time to work a little, baby.'

chan is a pleaser but he's not selfless. he will die a happy man if he dies with your lips wrapped around his cock. still glaring at him, you quickly switch positions, crawling on bed till you get on the edge, your face right next to the place he wants to have it the most. 'don't glare, baby,' chan admonishes gently, pushing zipper of his jeans down. 'i know you want it. don't you want it?'

your butt cutely wriggles and you lick your lips, making him chuckle. he is so, so weak for you. but good thing is that you are so, so weak for him too. 'say that you want it,' chan mutters, stepping closer and getting rid of his jeans. 'cmon baby, don't lie to yourself.'

your hands push his underwear down and chan hisses when you immediately wrap your hand around his shaft. 'i want it,' you breathe out, looking up at him in a way that makes his dick even harder.

'go ahead then.'

it's a really hard mission not to come from the first three strokes. just like he knows what you like, you also know how to make him buckle his hips helplessly. your nails digging into his skin, your hot mouth wrapped around him - chan grunts with an effort of not fucking up into your mouth. you look sinful like this, so sexy that it makes his head spin; he grabs your hair in order to stay focused. your head bobs enthusiastically, you create your own rhythm and chan groans, knowing how you like when he's vocal about his pleasure. 'just like that,' his fingers automatically pull your hair into a ponytail, tugging. 'doing so good, i'll fuck you so good afterwards, baby.'

your answering moans revebrates around your throat and he shivers from additional stimilus, bucking his hips. this action makes you choke and you pull back, his hands immediately on your face, caressig your cheeks in apologizing manner. 'sorry, sorry,' chan says, quickly checking if you're okay. 'all good?'

you nod, wiping away spit from your chin. your hand reaches out to stroke him and chan groans, when you look up and lick your lips. 'all good,' you say, smirking. 'if i knew wearing your clothes would get you like this, i-'

'you'd be the death of me,' chan finishes and tugs your hair harshly. 'lay back on the bed.'

chan is a weak man. if he were stronger then at the sight of you naked he would have taken his time to worship your body, but... chan is a weak man and he has no patience. his fingers find your heat in seconds and he tries to slow down, he really does, but one finger becomes two way too quickly even if you're not complaining.

'chan, oh my god,' your back arches as he thrusts up two fingers in a pace that is too quick.

'i love it when you moan my name,' chan whispers into your skin, lavishing your breasts with his attention. 'can you take more?'

chan prays you agree because he feels like he might burst any second now; when you nod, his sigh of relief is almost palpable as he adds third finger, reveling in your wetness and your loud whimpers. he likes how vocal you are, how you don't shy away from pleasure, how you seek for it in the most erotic ways when your head is on the cloud nine. your body moves along with his fingers, wants them deeper and he curses at the lewd image it makes, moving a little downwards.

'i'll fuck you so good,' he promises - babbles, really. 'you've been so good to me, i-'

his words die out as he bottoms out, flesh to flesh. it's always heaven to be locked with you in this way, to feel your warmth all around him. he always has to take few seconds to calm down, to find his footing, to relish in this feeling before he moves. your hips start moving, calling out for him and he is not that strong to resist your call. sometimes chan is in the mood to draw it out, to be slow and tease you until you're crying, but today is not that day. his patience snapped long time ago and he instantly sets a punishing pace that makes you choke on your moans. grabbing at the pillow desperately, it takes you few moments to start moving along with him, bringing you both to pleasure much faster. his grip on your hips is bruising and when chan moves his fingers to grab the back of your thighs and change the angle, you squeak, almost biting your tongue in the process.

'good?' chan asks, concentrating all his strength in holding your legs up higher. 'like this is good?'

'yes, yes, so good, chan,' you drool a little, succumbing to the pleasure fully. 'so fucking good.'

chan only groans at that, snapping his hips harder. he can hold off for you, but it's hard when you're so wet and warm, when your body is so honest in letting him know how exactly he makes you feel. chan prides himself in this, how he can make you crazy with it, how he gets to be the one who sees you like this. it's a privelege more than anything and he will never take it for granted.

'close,' you manage to croak out, gasping for breath.

chan nods in acknowledgement and doubles his effort, losing his rhythm in favor of bringing you to the peak closer. sweat runs down his face and he huffs, falling on his hands. your legs wrap tight aroudn him instantly as his mouth latches on yours, swallowing all your sounds eagerly. 'so pretty for me,' chan whispers into your mouth, looking at you with hearts in his eyes. 'always so good, cmon, you can come baby, i know you want to, don't hold it.'

there's something about his whispers that makes you cry, shaking with pleasure. he sucks hickeys on your neck while you get off from your high. little shocks run through your body and you turn your head, bumping noses with him. 'channie,' you call, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

you sound so satisfied that chan grins. 'can i?' he asks and at your nod, he uses your body to chase his own high. it doesn't take him long to pull out and spill all over your stomach, groaning. 'fucking hell.'

your chuckle makes him smile and he flops next to you, kissing you senseless. he knows you're about to get whiny and bratty at the sticky semen on your stomach, so he quickly stands up, searching for anything to wipe it off with. 'let's just go to the shower,' you call, reaching out of him. 'i demand to be carried.'

chan can't even pretend that he doesn't like it. he can't even for a second keep the barrier of a stoic and cool guy when he's with you. not when he turns into a poodle, not when he's ready to give you everything you ask for. he easily lifts you up, smiles warmyl at your giggles and carries you to the shower, kissing your forehead. 'i'm so leaving my hoodie here,' he says, carefully putting you down. 'greet me in it next time?'

a/n: it's funny how i try to make chan gentle and make it more like love making and not fucking and then my fingers live their own life and he ends up the way he did here :D - nini

tagging @prpldahy

[kaycares22]

At 7:36 AM on a Tuesday, Draco stumbles out of her personal Floo. It sounds like he tumbles out, and Hermione gasps as she whirls around to face the hearth in her kitchen. He’s bent over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath. She’s never seen him look less put together.

“Draco. What’s wrong?” There’s a wild look in his eyes as he straightens, staring at her in a way that makes her feel more vulnerable than when he had her skirt hitched up around her waist seconds after he placed a silencing charm on the door to her office yesterday. She’s grown used to his touch, his taste, his presence in her life in stolen moments. But a wake-up call is outside the protocol of their trysts.

Not to mention that his face is currently whiter than the white blonde of his hair.

“What happened?” she asks when he continues to stare at her with wide gray eyes instead of answering her question. “What’s wrong?”

His hand shakes as he raises it to run it through his hair. “The tapestry,” he finally rasps. “The bloody fucking tapestry.”

“The…?” Hermione frowns as she watches his Adam's apple bob with the force of his swallow. He runs his hand through his hair again, and she thinks to herself that he looks spider-webbed, seconds away from shattering with the force of a breeze. “Here. Come sit.”

Draco’s hand still shakes in hers when she takes it, but he lets her lead him to one of the stools at her counter. He stares at some spot over her shoulder, almost despondent in his panic, until she presses her palm against his cheek. She ignores the voice in the back of her mind that questions why this feels like the most intimate way she’s ever touched him.

His eyes have that same wild quality when he stares back at her. “What happened to the tapestry?”

Rubbing a hand over his face, he mumbles something to himself that sounds like Didn’t think this part through. His hand covers his eyes for several long seconds before he finally lets it drop away. But then his eyes roam her body like he’s searching for an answer, and she wishes he’d cover his eyes again instead.

It catches her off guard when he asks, “How do you feel?”

“How do I feel?” she repeats, sounding daft even in her own ears.

“Do you feel… normal?”

Draco’s eyes scan her body again, and she crosses her arms over her chest to lessen that feeling of being laid bare before him. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“Is there something you need to tell me?” He shifts directions as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. And Hermione feels exasperated.

“Draco, what the hell are you getting at?” she sighs.

He falls silent again, but at least this time he holds her gaze. Another swallow, another bob. Another shaking hand through his hair. And then his voice a thin rasp again when he says, “You appeared on my family tapestry.”

Her blood freezes in her veins. She has no idea what that means, and she’s certain she knows what he just said at the same time. But her brain refuses to accept that interpretation. “I- what?”

“Granger, you are now on the Malfoy family tapestry. Which could mean that when you got me drunk on firewhisky last Friday, I married you and managed to forget.” Her stomach flips at the easy way the word married rolls off his tongue, but something in her mind screams at him to stop there.

Marriage. Period. Full stop. As far as this train of thought goes.

But instead, he levels his gaze with hers again as a muscle twitches in his jaw. “But there would be a line connecting your name to mine. Not an empty circle with an hourglass beneath both our names.”

His eyes drop from hers to stare solidly at her middle. She rushes to cross her arms there, to hide it from his view. “That’s impossible.”

But even as she says the words, she hears the lack of sincerity. Impossible would mean she hadn’t been the one to kiss him first. Impossible would mean she hadn’t invited him back to hers that first time, telling herself the next morning that she had been a little too drunk when she hadn’t drunk at all. Impossible would mean he was still just her coworker, not someone who had traced every part of her with his hands.

It was very possible.

“You’ve been a bitch,” he adds, interrupting her thoughts.

“I have not!” She takes a step back to create distance. Her hand itches to slap him. He must sense it because his lip twitches despite the lack of color that remains in his face.

“You were all pissy with me last week when you misplaced your notes on the vampyr rights’ bill.” He waves a hand lazily towards her. “You’re pissy right now.”

“You called me a bitch!” she says, aghast. What had ever made her think it was a good idea to sleep with this man? And then to keep returning at various times for the last three months?

“Yesterday, my hand barely grazed your tit, and you flinched.” He cards a hand through his hair again. It looks unkempt now, and Draco Malfoy never looks unkempt. Neither of them. Neither of them ever looks unkempt because they are calculated and careful and intentional in everything they do.

Except for when she kissed him on an impulse after their co-authored legislation for the protection of centaurs passed.

Hermione has to fight the urge to raise her hand to her own breast to see if it’s still just as tender.

“Well, it’s impossible.” She sounds more sure of herself as she shakes her head and raises her chin. “I’m taking a potion.”

This time, his lip does more than twitch. It’s a sad kind of smirk he wears, and her hand itches again to slap it off his face. “Which would be canceled out by the antidote you took when you had that skin reaction to the asphodel.”

She had held her breath, waiting for him to point out all the potential flaws in her brewing her own contraceptive potion. But the way he takes his Double Mastery of Potions knowledge and easily points out the way her potions would counteract one another leaves her feeling faint.

Hermione feels the color leave her own face. But her stubborn resistance grows a reciprocal amount.

“Well, this is ridiculous,” she mutters as she storms across the room to her discarded wand on the counter. She turns back around to find that Draco is standing again, gripping the counter as if it’s a life raft. She waves her wand and mutters the detection charm, determined to prove him wrong.

And instead, a tiny gold light appears above her abdomen. Flickering like a rapid heartbeat.

Her knees buckle as her whole world upends. But Draco just stares at it with wide eyes, his expression a mixture of fear and awe as he whispers, “Well, fuck me.”

[byuntrash101]

bonnie & clyde

switch!reader x dom!hongjoong ft. ateez

smut | nsfw | mdni

gangster!hongjoong, switch!reader, reader is kinda bratty, cameo!ateez, 1 gun fight scene w/ 1 death of a nameless character (in a non seggsy setting), striptease, pet names, blood kink, some knife play (hongjoong cuts your underwear), fucking in a pile of cash, spit play, name calling (whore), hair pulling, tits slapping, possessive joong, honestly you both are just two psychos fucking

requested | part of my 2023 prompts event [closed]

there's something so primal and enticing about your leader taking a life to protect the crew at all costs

[❛ shut up and kiss me already. ❜ + ❛ and where do you think you’re going? ❜]

TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK 🖤

They called you the pirates of the concrete seas. Bank’s safes were your treasure chests and the streets were your ocean. You were pillaging and robbing bank after bank. Outlaws always on the run, looking for the next big shiny thing. You always found the name kind of cheesy but in the end it suited your group pretty well. Not worrying about tomorrow, living off the money you stole and drinking until sunrise.

Hongjoong, your captain, reigned over the concrete seas like an almighty and ruthless king. He only had two things in mind. Keeping the crew together and get the gold.

That’s exactly what you were about to do.

When Yunho parked the van outside the bank. Hongjoong revised one last time the plan of action before everybody slipped on their mask. You felt the adrenaline course through your veins, keeping your head into unwavering focus.

You all worked like well oiled machinery. Everyone knew exactly what they were doing. Seonghwa and Yeosang were breaking into the safe. Jongho and San gathered the hostages. Wooyoung and Mingi stuffed the bags full of cash while you were in charge of communication. Making sure everyone played their role and the plan went accordingly.

Hongjoong had the most important role. He had to make sure everyone stayed calm. 

And when it went south Hongjoong was the one that had to make sure every single member of the crew came out unharmed. 

So when Wooyoung got caught one the guard as you were rushing out with the booty, Hongjoong had to step in. The guard held your younger crewmate one arm hooked around his neck, the other holding a gun to his temple. 

San threw a deadly eye to Jongho who let the guard slip out of his grasp. Wooyoung let a guttural cry as the guard pressed harder on his neck.

“Freeze” the middle aged man shouted. Aim alternating between Wooyoung’s head and Hongjoong standing right in front of him. The middle aged man was panting, large beads of sweat wetting his thick salt and pepper mustache.

“Let’s not do anything we could regret here” Hongjong said calmly, motioning for the rest of you to lower your weapons. 

“You’re all gonna stay put until the cops arrive” the man panted, his eyes darting between all of you. His finger on the trigger became dangerously tense.

“Let him go” Hongjoong ordered in a stern yet tranquil voice.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I’LL BLOW HIS BRAINS OUT” the guard shouted, pressing the canon of the gun into Wooyoung’s forehead, his hands desperatly clawing at the man’s forearm around his neck.

The sudden yelling made one of the bank employees cry and the guard turned his head to the noise. Breaking eye contact with Hongjoong was a fatal error.

The captain didn’t hesitate one second. He lightly tipped his face to the side and Wooyoung knew what to do. He imitated him and in a split second, the booming sound of Hongjoong’s weapon clattered in the large hall and the guard's face was ornamented with a gaping hole, blood splattering all over Wooyoung’s masks and clothes. The lifeless body thumped on the ground, waiting to get cold as you all rushed to the van.

You felt the adrenaline when Yunho was punching the gas and the van slalomed between the police cars and eventually lost them. That feeling of euphoria when you all took off the masks to laugh and shovel the cash out. This time there was enough that you could all bathe in it. 

You were all playing in it. Mingi was shuffling the bills in his face while Yeosang and San danced in it. Crystal clear laughs resonating in the huge room.

Even Wooyoung seemed to have forgotten about the dried up blood on his clothes.

Then Jongho called from the big entry.

“Guys, let's go order some drinks” he yelled. All of the crew followed lead by Yeosang with you on their heels.

“And where do you think you’re going?” The captain asked as he put down his gun on the table.

“I was gonna go get a drink” you spoke. 

“No i don’t think you are”

The captain’s face was unsoundable. Emotions perfectly gate kept behind his glacial features staring at you blankly.

Hongjoong motioned at Seonghwa, still waiting for you at the entrance to leave. So he gave you one last smile and closed the heavy door behind him.

Soon the laughs faded and you two were left in complete silence.

“Come here” Hongjoong motioned you to come closer, curling his index finger.

Hongjoong liked the adrenaline. It gave him a high that was incomparable to any other. Except one, the kind of high he could only experiment with you. 

You approached him slowly, taking your time to prance to him like a panther about to pounce. 

Hongjoong’s impenetrable face let through a small smirk pulling lightly at his lips.

“You asked for me, Captain?” you asked, voice already soaking with seductiveness.

“ Yes I want you to do me a favor” You lift a quizzical eyebrow. “Go over there” he pointed at the pile of wrinkled bills in the middle of the big hangar.

“Dance for me”

Hongjoong said before turning on slow sensual music from the speaker settled on the small table.

That was unexpected but you gladly obliged.

You reached the pile of money and started to seductively dance, swaying your hips to the rhythm. Your hands gliding from your thigh, slowly up your stomach and past the side of your breasts to rub your neck. 

“Yes that’s it baby”. Hongjoong slowly walked up to you. Admiring you dance for him. The dance went he felt himself grow thicker for you.

“Strip” he ordered. Voice firm. Already a little lower than his usual tone. It reminded you of the voice he took before shooting that man right in the face and you felt your stomach stir in excitement.

You reached out for the hem of your tank top but Hongjoong clicked his tongue.

“Slowly baby. Nice and slow”

So you opted for the strap of your top instead. Slowly pulling at it.

“Yesss” Hongjoong pulled on the word, dragging it off his tongue.  “Just like that” 

He started to palm himself through his denim jeans. Rubbing circles on his member becoming more and more constricted in his clothes.

One by one you stripped out every article of clothing until you were only left in your underwear.

By the time you were done Hongjong’s cock looked like it was about to rip out his pants. 

“Did I tell you to stop ?” 

You could have gone back to slowly unclasping your bra but you didn’t. You didn’t feel like being good today. You wanted to infuriate him.

When Hongjoong saw you weren’t moving an inch he started to smirk. Even if it was fun to play with a good girl there was something so empowering in breaking you into his will. Resorting to any means to make you snap, to make you beg for him.

Taking his fate into his own hands was Hongjoong’s specialty after all.

He walked to you as you provocatively held his glacial gaze fixated on you. 

His fingers grazed over your forearm going up your limb and reached your neck. His touch was gentle, lifting goosebumps on your naked skin. He gently wrapped his hand on your nape, pulling your face closer to his, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Did I tell you to stop, kitten?” he whispered, lips pulling into a wicked smirk, his grip onto your nape growing stronger.

The hot air in your ear sent a shiver down your spine. You felt his cool tongue slide over your ear, producing the lewd wet noises you loved so much. Already you felt your arousal pooling in your underwear.

“Shut up and kiss me already” you whispered, your fingers digging into his side. You didn’t really deserve it but you also knew Hongjoong couldn't resist you.

Immediately Hongjoong stepped back to have a good look at your face. You looked exactly like him, insatiable. That was why you two were such a good match. 

The Joker and Harley Quinn.

Bonnie and Clyde.

Hongjoong crashed his lips onto yours. Your two bodies immediately going up in flames, burning passion coursing between you. You dug your nails further on his back, he smiled at the familiar sting while his hand left your nap to untangle around your hair. He gave a sharp pull earning a moan from your playful lips. You immediately retorted by catching Hongjongs’s bottom lips between your teeth. Hongoong groaned and smirked as you bit harder. Until you tasted his blood on the tip of your tongue. He immediately tightened his grip around your hair, pleasure burning on your scalp while his other hands pushed your hips onto his. 

“Hmmm” Hongjoong moaned against your lips. Hand gliding from the small of your back to your thigh to your clothed center. Slender fingers applying just the right amount of pressure to your sensitive area. “My angel is not in the mood to be a good girl, is she?” he said, as he licked his own blood off your stained lips.

“No” you said with assurance. Pushing him as he stumbled back into the huge pile of wrinkled bills. You continued your infernal carousel by straddling him. You started to unbutton his white shirt that joined his fur coat laying at his sides. You licked your way down leaving a trail of burgundy kisses on his chest. 

You started to palm him through his pants. You would have wanted to make him wait a little linger but you just couldn’t inflicted that to yourself. You wanted to see it. Without waiting anymore you unzipped his pants to get the aching member out. It joyfully sprung free before your avid eyes.

“So eager for me, angel?” Hongjoong mocked. You hated that he was right.

You grabbed the base with one hand while the other one teased the leaking slit at the head. One finger sliding up and down the head making Hongjoong hiss at every slow touch. 

You briefly let go of the hand holding the base to spit in your palm and started jerking him off. Hongjoong growled as he felt the warm saliva mixing with his precum. 

You snickered malovently when he started to pulse in your hand. Taking a malicious delight to slow down everytime he became more vocal. Driving him to the edge of sanity. Exactly where he feels comfortable, he’s been flirting with this edge since birth. Just as you have too. Two psychotic minds finding each other in folly.

Soon he can’t hold back anymore. His hand fly to yours catching them in a strong grip. You lift your eyes to meet his. He’s absolutely feral. Looking back at you like a rabid wolf. You’ve done it, you woke the beast. A side of him that was only for you. Only you who could bear to look in the face of his darkest side. The side that relished to hold the right of life or death at the end of his gun. That enjoyed spilling blood.

He grabbed the small knife strapped to your thigh with one movement he slipped the blade under between your breast cutting in a clean half your bra as it fell along your arms. He grabbed a handful of your breast while he slowly dragged the blade across your stomach. The cold metal lifted goosebumps on your skin until he reached your underwear.

You held your breath as he cut it, the blade running on your skin, lightly scratching you delicious, leaving a red trail behind it. He threw across the hangar the shreds of lace along with the blade. The metallic tinkling bouncing on the high ceiling.

With his newly free hand he grabbed you by the throat, a strangled moan leaving your mouth as anticipation pulled your lips into a smirk.

“I’m done playing” he growled, the threatening hold growing tighter. “Ride me now” he commanded as he pulled you up by the neck.

Your breath still restricted you manage to guide his length to your drenched center. His grip only loosened when you sunk your hips. Hongjoong's cock gliding so smoothly inside you. taking its rightful place deep inside your little cunt.

“That’s it baby” he praised, letting go of your throat to grip your thighs. “Make me feel good with that pretty pussy of yours”

You instantly bounced your hips up and down along his shaft. You both moaned and groaned without restraint. The sinful symphony resounding in the hangar.

“Faster baby” he ordered as he pinched one of your nipples. The burn encouraged you and you settled at a brutal pace. The familiar build up in your stomach rapidly progressing. You felt Hongjoong's thighs tighten under your own and you knew he was close too.

“Hongjoong… I’m-” you moaned. But as your mind went blank almost giving up to the pleasure you were interrupted. By a harsh slap on one of your breasts.

“No you’re not” Hongjoong slapped your tits again.

The sharp pain taking you by surprise and brings you back to him. Before you could protest Hongjoong flipped you on your back and he was above you.

“You’re here to make me feel good” he clarified as he entered you once again. You did not really have time to let the pressure go down. Pleasure picked up right where it left off. Your eyes rolled back into your head when he so deliciously filled you up again.

“Fuckkk” you cursed. 

“Look at me” he said, he pulled on your hair again. Making your eyes snap back to him. “You cum when I tell you too”

You were way too close to your release to talk back with words but there was still one thing you could do. 

Without even thinking in a sort of reflex you spat right into his face. Hongjoong’s shock pulled your lips into a satisfied smirk, an amused laugh almost escaping your lips but you don’t have time to.

“You fucking whore” he hissed though gritted teeth. 

Immediately he starts to fuck you as brutally as he can. His hips smashing into yours. fucking you so deep and could feel him hamerring the imprint of his cock into your brain forever.

“You’re mine” he growled while he wrapped his hand around your neck once again this time completely preventing you from breathing. Taking this vital resource away from you. Soon you feel lightheaded, you feel like your body is defying gravity, losing its anchoring in the solid earth. The unspeakable pleasure dulling your other senses. In this moment there's only him and you. You and your captain's mindless bodies floating in this sea of cash.

“Cum now. Whore” His voice commanded and you released all over him soaking him and the bills under you while he delivered thick ropes of cum deep inside you, lazily spilling out of your clenching walls when he pulled out.

After a while of catching his breath he looked back at you.

“Let’s meet with the others I really need this drink”

a/n: i struggled so much with this one. i hope it isnt too obvious but yeah for getting out of my comfort zone. please tell me if you enjoyed it it would make me sooo happy to know it didnt completely suck balls lolz anyways thank you for reading <3

[anton-luvr]

can you do childhood enemies to lovers with sungchan please 🤞 i love ur writing!!

# MR. CONSIDERATE.

𖦹 childhood enemy!sungchan x fem!reader | fluff | ce2l au 𖦹 note ; tysm for requesting anon!! i had so much fun writing this i love sungchan </3 thank u for waiting and i hope u like it!

Sungchan's yawn changes into a frown when he notices the pair of unfamiliar shoes by the door.

His aunt never mentioned about having guests over.

Thinking he had to endure another awkward social interaction, Sungchan sighs as he takes off his own shoes.

Don't get him wrong, he loves his aunt to bits.

But oftentimes, the friends she had over would nag him till his ears were ringing, endless questions about his college and non-existent dating life thrown his way.

So when he steps into the hallway to see that it's only a girl about his age with his sister in the living room, he's instantly relieved.

Until he notices his aunt is nowhere in sight.

"Somin," he calls out suspiciously, making his way over to the living room. "I'm home!"

The little girl squeals in delight, and she rushes over to hug Sungchan tightly. "'Chan, meet my new friend!" she says excitedly, pointing at you.

The smile on Sungchan's face freezes.

When he last saw you more than ten years ago, he had celebrated the fact that he would never have to see you again, but here you were: standing in his aunt's living room and staring right back at him.

Memories rush through his mind like a rollercoaster: childish fights over ice-cream, competitive glares exchanged when the teacher gave back your grades, and the promise he made to himself to hate you forever.

"S-Sungchan?" you sputtered, snapping him out of his thoughts. "What are you doing here?"

And just like he used to, Sungchan gets defensive. "What are you doing here? This is my aunt's house." he asks back, tone sharp and bringing an edge of hostility.

"She's the new babysitter!" Somin replies, unaware of the situation. "Her name is Y/N, isn't she nice?"

"Y/N, this is my brother! His name is Sungchan." Somin continues, grinning brightly at you.

You bite on your tongue to hold back from snapping back at Sungchan, feigning a surprised expression in response to Somin's introduction.

"Okay, bye! I need to go watch TV now." she sings, dashing off.

A heavy silence settles between the both of you as she leaves you alone, and Sungchan fakes a cough to break it.

"Sorry about that." he muttered.

"Oh, it's fine." you lie, shifting uncomfortably on your feet.

Sungchan shakes his head strongly at this, making his way into the kitchen.

"No, it's not. It's our first time meeting after forever, and this is how I treat you." he sighs. "Here, let me get you something to drink."

Not saying another word, you simply follow him into the small but cozy kitchen.

You watch as he pulls out two cans of soda from the fridge, and a small smile rests on your lips when you recognize the brand.

"I didn't know they still sold these sodas." you said, sliding into a seat by the kitchen counter.

They had been the most popular ones when you were a kid, and you would save your allowance to buy them during the scorching summers.

Sungchan makes a huffing noise as he places them on the counter, sliding one towards you. "You won't believe how expensive they are now." he complains. "It's almost five dollars a can!"

Hearing him complain like a grumpy middle-aged man, you couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?" he asks, confused as he takes a sip from his can.

"You sound like an old man." you giggle, pretending to dodge when Sungchan picks up his soda as if to throw it at you.

The silence from earlier returns as your laughter dies down, and you wrack your brain to think of something to say.

Thankfully, Sungchan beats you to it.

"So... how's life? How have you been?" he asks.

Shrugging, you take a sip. "Not much. I'm on summer break from college, so I thought I'd earn some money at it while resting."

Sungchan hums, leaning back on his chair.

"And my aunt hired you to babysit my sister? Yikes." he mumbles jokingly.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "I see that you're still the same, huh?" you retort.

As if you had accused him of a great crime, Sungchan gasps and dramatically clutches at his chest. "Hey, if this was us back then, we'd already be fighting and screaming at each other on the floor!"

The fact that it's happened before makes you chuckle, shaking your head.

It was crazy to think about how you used to hate him with all your guts, but here you were, having a conversation with him in his aunt's kitchen.

And as if on cue, you hear the front door rattle open and the loud chatter of ladies fill up the house.

"Oh God," Sungchan groans, mortified as he buries his face in his hands. "My aunt brought her friends over again."

You didn't understand his reaction till they swarmed over, chatting away like a coop of chickens.

"Oh wow, who's this gorgeous lady?" one of the ladies asked, waving enthusiastically at you.

"Is this your girlfriend? You never told us you had one!" another lady teases, whacking Sungchan on the shoulder.

He chokes on his soda, shaking his head frantically. "W-We're just friends! She was taking care of Somin, that's all!"

"Hmm, and maybe she can take care of you too!" one of them adds in, smirking at Sungchan.

"Someone's turning red!" Sungchan's aunt notices, laughing along.

Sure enough, his face was the color of a strawberry. Embarrassed, he stands up quickly, pulling you up with him by the hand.

"Okay, it's getting late, I have to take her home." he rambles, tugging you after him as he squeezes his way to the door.

"You do?" you echo, following him in surprise.

"Aw, our Sungchan is all grown up! He's bringing a girl home, how sweet!" one of the lady coos, and Sungchan's eye twitches.

"Bye!" he shouts, slamming the door shut behind the both of you.

All noise fades the moment he does, and the peace of the night wraps around you like a hug.

"Sorry about that. My aunt's friends are... something." Sungchan mumbles, annoyed.

"It's fine." you say. You were sure you had at least five aunts from your family who were the same, if not worse.

"Wait, but are you actually going to take me home?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at the brown haired boy.

Eyes widening, Sungchan plants his hands on his hips. "Of course I am! What kinda douchebag do you think I am to let you go home alone in the dark?" he scoffs, seemingly offended.

Shrugging, you laugh as you walk away. "Well, let's go then, Mr. Considerate."

He catches up to you with a "Hey, wait for me!", your footsteps falling together in a rhythm as you make your way home.

"Anyways, how about you? How's life?" you ask.

Sungchan hums at this, kicking a random rock on the sidewalk. "It's good. I'm finishing up my degree in engineering, then I'll probably start working."

"Oh, cool!" you say softly. "I would never have guessed you wanted to be an engineer." you laugh. "You were so obsessed with being a fireman back then."

Your words unlock another memory for Sungchan, and he smiles to himself.

Silence falls between the both of you again, but it felt more comfortable this time.

And as you continue walking together, Sungchan can't help but look at you from the corner of his eye, the old hatred softening away into unfamiliar adoration.

And he realized his aunt's friends were right. You really were gorgeous.

Your eyes still had the mischievous glint he used to hate, your cheeks a soft pink from the cool autumn breeze, while the orange street lamps overhead cast a soft glow on you - almost like an angel.

His face burns in realisation when he catches himself admiring you, and Sungchan's about to slap himself when you stop in your tracks.

"Alright, this is it. Thanks for walking me back." you smile, pointing at the apartment complex you stayed at.

Sungchan smiles back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "No problem," he says. "It was nice seeing you again."

You nod, waving as you walk up to the entrance.

"Goodnight!" you call, pulling out your access card.

But the beep of verification has barely gone through when it's cut off by Sungchan, shouting.

"Y/N, wait!" he calls.

"Do you want to go get a coffee or something tomorrow? J-Just to catch up." he stutters, eyes shining with what seems to be nervous anticipation.

"Sure," you say immediately, surprising yourself. "Text me the details?"

"I don't have your number though." Sungchan says, smiling sheepishly.

You face palm yourself, dumbfounded. "Sorry," you laugh awkwardly, taking his phone from his outstretched hand.

He watches in amusement as you type in your number, failing at least twice because you kept pressing the wrong number keys.

God, you were so cute.

"Still struggling with numbers?" Sungchan teases when you pass his phone back to him, and you slap his arm. "I passed math in high school, get it right." you scold lightly.

He grins, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Well, you can tell me all about it tomorrow," he says casually.

His words make your cheeks warm up, and you nod.

"Bye!" you call out, stepping into the lift.

Sungchan waves back as the lift doors close, and he can't help but smile like an idiot.

It seems like he wasn't going to hate you forever after all.

© anton-luvr, 2023.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

the past is best in the past - CH 1

Word Count - 844

Summary - What happens if after years of hiding Quinn finally finds you.

Warnings - mentions of running from the past but no specifics

Author's Note - I'm gonna be serious with you guys when I say I have no idea what this is and I definitely left it very open ended. If you guys want I can continue this as a little serious vs a blurb which is what it is right now.

Next Chapter

Living in Vancouver was supposed to be a new beginning for you. Vancouver was supposed to be the answer to your nightmares. Vancouver was supposed to be a fresh start, somewhere no one knew you, knew your family, knew your past. Living here since you were 18 in pure bliss of your new identity so imagine your surprise when the boy who was your first love walks into the bar that you work at and he catches you off guard while your in the middle of cashing someone out and trying to grab a new bottle of rum for someones drink they ordered. 

“Y/N/N” Quinn speaks in an unsure tone, as if he’s just seen a ghost. Freezing at the fact someone has called you by a nickname that your brain doesn’t even respond to anymore,in fact, no one has done that in almost 7 years. Turning around you make eye-contact with your Quinn. Quinn who once upon a time was yours you remind yourself but not anymore. 

Squinting your eyes to make sure it isn’t some sick kind of trick your mind is playing on you and that it is in fact Quinn leaning forward almost half over the bar. “Actually it’s just Y/N now. No one calls me that anymore Quinn.” Try to make your voice as flat as possible, as if you aren’t affected by seeing the man in front of you. 

“Right. Sorry - uh - um. What are you doing here?” Quinn wasn’t as good as hiding his emotions about seeing you - who practically is a ghost of his past in front of him after so many years. Suddenly retreating back to the shy nervous boy you knew all those years ago, despite looking so much older now with his 5 o’clock shadow and sharper features. 

“Working Quinn. Now either order something or leave before my boss starts asking questions as to why you aren’t.” Rolling your eyes, as you finish making the rum and coke and walking off to hand it to the middle-age woman who ordered it. Walking back to Quinn it’s as if he has finally processed your words as you give him ‘what the fuck are you gonna do’ look. 

“Right - uh - I’ll have a - uh - miller on draft please.” he asks, his hands going into his front pockets as he bounces on his feet. ‘Somethings never change’ you think to yourself because that was his tell growing up that his anxiety was growing. Part of you hated yourself for being the reason you were giving him anxiety now, none of this was his fault. 

“Here.” As you hand him the beer you just finished pouring. “Are you gonna start a tab or cash out?” you ask looking at him in the eyes for the first time since he called your name, your breath catching. 

“Here tab.” As he hands you his card to keep for the night. “Hey Y/N/N. Sorry Y/N.”

“Yeah Quinn?” your voice is much quieter now as your nervousness is starting to get to you. 

“Why’d you leave me?” His voice breaking at his own question, taking a deep breath to try and keep his emotions at bay. 

“I can’t do this right now at work. But Quinn I never left you, I left that town.” feeling your eyes threaten to spill with tears. 

“But I was in that town.” he argues, his voice defensive, his face becoming hard as the anger is starting to take over as his body works through the floodgates of emotions of seeing you. 

“And I am sorry. But it was killing me being there and I needed to choose myself and I am sorry that wasn’t you. I am. But you deserved better and you still do. I can’t do this. I gotta get back to work. I guess see ya around Quinn.”  Turning around trying to go to the other side of the busy bar where your coworkers are running around each other. 

“Wait how long? How long have you been in Vancouver?” he begs to know the answer. 

Taking a deep breath you decide to tell him the truth because maybe that will help him. Maybe that will help him move on, which you know he hasn’t because Jack still talks to you once a year. He doesn’t know where you live but he calls you on your birthday, and he tells you how everyone is. He told you how Quinn never really moved on, and maybe this terrible ugly truth will help him realize the truth. The one ugly truth you have known since the beginning, someone as good as Quinn Hughes was never supposed to be with someone as terrible and broken as you. Letting your deep breath out that you didn’t realize you were holding you answered, “ Quinn I’ve been in Vancouver since before you were even drafted.” Turning around fully because even if you felt like you deserved it, you couldn’t stomach watching Quinn sit his beer down and walk out of the bar.

[vividbloosom]

Keep you warm

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Summary: You are stuck with Leon in a dead car. He wants to keep you warm.

Warning: smut, fingering, praise, pet names

I sat in the passenger seat gazing outside as more snow fell from the sky covering everything in a white blanket. The bitter winter storm, with the wind whipping against the windows made the snow slide down.

"Shit!" Leon, my mission partner cursed under his breath, sighing after another failed attempt of starting up the car. "It won't budge."

We were in the middle of nowhere and our car was dead. No sign of road assistence and no signal which made our phones as useless as the car. The two of us sat in silence for a minute as the snow started piling up on the windshield, blocking the view outside. "What do we do..." I knit my brows and look at Leon.

"Good question," Leon responded, sighing as he watched the snow pile up on the windshield. "Guess we'll just have to sit here and wait for rescue." he replied looking at me with his pretty blue eyes and leaning in his seat.

"How are you so chill? I can't feel my hands." I frown and rub my hands together for some warmth and shake from how cold I am. Leon chuckles and reaches over to grab a hold of my hands and interlocking them with his. I blush at this and my eyes meet his. "Jesus, you are freezing." He frowns and keeps holding my hands. His touch was so tender, so soft, as if he wasn't even trying. His grip was firm but gentle, and his hands felt like warm, soft pillows that you'd never want to let go of.

"You are so warm, how?" I whisper-yell and pout. "I don't know...but one thing I know for sure is that there is a blanket in the back of the car." He nods towards the back seat and lets go of my hands as he crawls to the back. He sits down on the back seat and grabs the blanket. "Come here, don't want you to freeze there, princess." He directed and smiled, patting the seat next to him. I made my way to him, shaking from the cold and sat down next to him. Leon's presence was intoxicating, and I could feel the sparks flying between us as soon as we sat in the backseat.

"You are shaking..." He frowned and didn't hesitate to grab me and lift me on his lap, his confident hands gripping me fiercely as he positioned the blanket around us, trapping me in his warm embrace. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my thoughts began to race as I let myself get swept up in his presence, sitting on his lap sideways.

"Better?" He asked looking at me, his voice a low purr that sent a shiver down my spine. I could feel my throat go dry when I felt his gaze upon me. His blue eyes were so mesmerizing, so seductive, and I felt my heart beating faster as I looked back at him. "Yes, thank you." I said quietly.

I felt his hands rub up and down my thighs and squeezing them a little. I let out a sharp intake of breath as I felt his hands running up and down my thighs, my body instantly growing warmer as his touch sent electric sparks through my body. "L-leon..." I gasped as I turned into a blushing mess. "Can I kiss you?" Leon blurted and in that moment, my brain stopped working. "Please..." I whispered and he leaned in.

Our faces were now mere inches apart, and I could feel the heat of his breath on my lips. I craved his touch, his hands caressing me softly, as if I were nothing more than a porcelain doll. Then we locked our lips and I was on cloud nine. Leon's lips were soft yet firm, his kiss so sensual and I couldn't help but moan with pleasure as his warm mouth worked its magic, making me tremble with excitement. The kiss turned into a hot make out sesaion and I tuged his hair making him groan into the kiss.

"Sweetheart, can I touch you?" He asked, his voice breathy as he pulled away from the kiss. I nod and bite my lip. "Use your words, baby." He demands and my brain turns into a liquid by this. "Please, touch me." I plead shyly and blush. "There you go..." He huskily says and his hands start trailing along my body leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His touch is both gentle and possessive, exploring every curve and contour of my body. His fingers dance along the waistband of my pants, teasing and testing my patience. He unzips my jeans and looks at me.

"I want to see you squirm," He murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. "I want to hear you plead for more." He tugs at the waistband of my panties, slowly sliding them down my legs, revealing my nakedness. Leon's fingers trail along my inner thighs, his touch teasing and gentle. He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers in a low, seductive tone.

"Relax, my love," He murmurs, his voice filled with desire. "Let me show you just how much pleasure I can bring you." With deliberate intent, his fingers explore my most sensitive areas, his touch skilled and attentive. He watches my reactions, his eyes filled with a mix of affection and lust, as he seeks to bring me to new heights of pleasure.

I try to keep my moans quiet but Leon curls his finger in me, hitting the spongy spot just perfectly. "Don't hide those pretty sounds." He smirks and hits the spot again making me arch my back. "Mhh, Leon..." I moan and grip his shoulders. Leon's lips curl into a satisfied smile as he hears the sweet sound of my moans, my voice laced with pleasure and desire. "What a good girl, doing so good for me." He whispers with a low tone in his voice. He massages my clit and I moan at that sensation. It only fuels his own arousal, his fingers moving with even more intent, seeking to bring me to the peak of pleasure.

"I'm so close Leon-" I whimper and feel a knot in my stomach. "Gonna cum on my fingers? Let go for me. Cum for me, pretty girl." He whispers, his voice filled with a mix of dominance and tenderness. With one final curl of his fingers, Leon pushes me over the edge. Waves of pleasure crash over me, consuming my body as he continues to pleasure me, guiding me through the intensity of my climax, his eyes locked onto mine, relishing in my release. Leon watches with a mixture of satisfaction and adoration as I succumb to the waves of pleasure, my body convulsing with ecstasy. He takes in every gasp and moan that escapes my lips. "So pretty..." He whispers and locks my lips with his in a tender kiss.

"Leon...I need more." I whine as I pull away. "Tell me, sweethwart...What do you need, hm?" He smirks and grins at me. "Please, I need your cock in me." I plead and sit on top of him, my legs on both sides of him. Leon's eyes darken with desire as he hears my plea, feeling a surge of arousal course through his veins. He swiftly removes his jeans, freeing his hardened length, eager to fulfill my desires.

He positions himself, his eyes locked onto mine, seeking permission. With a nod of affirmation he grips my hips and I lower myself onto him, a gasp of pleasure escapes my lips and he groans. "You are too big, Leon..." I whimper and he gives me a minute to adjust to his size. "Shh, don't worry, sweetheart...Doing so good, baby...so thigh." He says, his voice husky and I start to move my hips. Leon's hands help me find a rhythm that satisfies both of our desires and the room is soon filled with the sounds of our erotic moans and sounds of our bodies moving together.

His eyes narrow with concern as he notices my movements becoming sloppy, the sensation of his size overwhelming me. With a tender touch, he reaches up to cup my face, his eyes filled with care and affection. "Easy, love," he murmurs softly, his voice laced with reassurance. "Let me take care of you. Just relax..."

With a gentle but firm grip on my hips, he lays me down on the back seat and takes control of the rhythm with a steady pace. He ensures that each thrust is deep and deliberate, allowing me to feel the fullness without overwhelming me. I wrap my legs around him and moan. "Leon...you feel so good." I whimper under him and he pounds into me ensuring that every thrust brings me closer to the peak of pleasure.

Leon's hands move with purpose, skillfully unclasping my bra and slipping a hand beneath my shirt, eager to feel the softness of my skin. His touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingers tracing along the curve of my breast and my hard nipple eliciting a gasp of pleasure from me. His thrusts grow more deeper and he teases my clit, making me moan as we both chase the heights of pleasure. My walls clench around him, making him groan. "I-I'm gonna cum, Leon-" I cry out as he keeps hitting my g-spot, my body tremblimg. "I can't get enough of you." he breathes, his voice filled with admiration and desire. "Cum for me, princess..."

He maintains the steady rhythm, his hips meeting mine with precision, each movement designed to bring me closer to the brink. His eyes lock onto mine, filled with a mixture of anticipation and adoration, as he watches my pleasure unfold. "Cum inside me, please." I plead and dig my nails into his back, making him groan. "Let go, my love," he whispers, his voice low and filled with encouragement. "Cum for me." We reach our peak and I moan loudly as we both cum together. He moans and captures my mouth with his into a hot kiss.

"Are you still cold?"

[keravnous]

the hunter! ; tangerine x fem!reader (smut, 18+)

read pt. 1 here | read pt. 2 here | read pt. 3 here

Tangerine expected someone else - but he'll do just fine with you, too.

(Based on that one scene from the Kraven The Hunter trailer where he turns around in that chair with the loaded crossbow)

warnings: kids, this is dark; this is like the darkest version of tangerine my brain has cooked up thus far; he is a sociopath by source sooo: manipulation; dub-con/non-con, coercion, gun kink, anger issues, crying, blood, murder/injuries, daddy kink, masturbation, slight dumbification, name-calling, pet names, corruption kink, spit kink

SO I SAW THE KRAVEN THE HUNTER TRAILER AND I REALLY COULDNT HELP MYSELF

"You fucking asshole!", you scream at the top of your lungs, bursting through the large door of your husband's office. It slams back into the lock just as you come to a halt on the expensive fur carpet in the middle of the spacious room.

His chair is facing the wall, a lit cigarette slowly glimming away in the ashtray. It lights up your rage like a match to gasoline.

"I am fucking speaking to you, you fucking dickhead! Can't you keep your dirty-ass dick out of that disgusting bitch you call a secretary for one day?", you are fuming, heart racing as you stomp down with your left heel, throwing your expensive and ridiculously small purse at him, missing the chair by nearly a whole foot. It crashes into the massive painting hanging behind the desk, where it leaves a nasty cut before falling to ground uselessly.

Your husband does not react and that, oh that, that get's you going alright, makes your blood race through your veins so hard you can hear it in your ears.

"I am fucking speaking to you -- turn the fuck around you coward!", you yell, hands clutched to tight fists, your jewellery cutting into the flesh.

Slowly, comedically slowly even, the chair turns. The man sitting in it puts his feet up on the table, legs clad in an expensive navy pin-stripe as he crosses them. And that --

That is not your husband.

The man, sitting in a chair that clearly isn't his, in an office that surely doesn't belong to him, is lean and a lot more handsome than the man you so reluctantly married a few years ago. His face is expressionless, bland like piece of paper, except for the anger pooling around his eyes. He is wearing an expensive looking pin-stripe suit and his hair is neatly combed back, 70s porn stache trimmed just as carefully - the only thing that looks out of place is the blood splattered on his face like freckles, one large splatter on his left cheek.

He is also pointing a gun at you. An actual fucking gun.

"And who the fuck are you, Lady?", he says, casually, but a little irritated nonetheless.

You choke on your own tongue, backing up a little. This is not good. It has your fight or flight kicking in, muscles in your back and legs tensing up and brain going numb, fingers starting to tingle.

"Don't ya move an inch", he growls, his gun following your movement. You freeze. You wonder if he will actually shoot you. You wonder what he is doing here.

"I-, I--"

The man rolls his eyes at you - pretty, pretty eyes; blue like the sea - and huffs out an exasperated sigh.

"Fuckin' answer me." His tone sends shivers down your spine and, if you did not already do so by his gun, you now know for sure that he is not playing around.

"I-", you take a deep breath, voice shaking and thin, "I- I am Markov's wife?"

It comes out more like a question, than an answer, really. You hope it will do; you hope he is happy with what is the - for you, rather sad - truth.

Tangerine cocks an eyebrow, leans back in the leather chair, gun still pointing at you. "'S that so?"

"Y-yes", you gulp.

"Didn't know he had a wife", he mutters, more to himself, really.

Tangerine can feel how the wheels in his head start to turn - the intel didn't suggest a marriage. It genuinely surprises him - not only because people in this profession rarely have spouses - but also because the young lady in front of him is way too pretty. Angelic, even. Too good for a boastful, careless cockroach of a criminal like Markov is. And he wants her, wants to own her. Wants to take take take. He wonders just how quickly she will break.

You, in the meantime, sense an opening.

"W-what do you want? I can g-give you money", you hastily stumble over the words, anxiety crawling up your spine, "A-all of it!"

The man raises his eyebrows, snorts amused. "No, love, I don't need your money."

"A-anything, p-please - just, just", and the dam breaks, eyes tearing up as your eyes zero in on the gun, "Just please d-don't kill me."

Something in his eyes changes, a dark shadow dancing over his face, eyebrows shooting up in surprise and then he pulls back the hammer of his revolver with his thumb. Your knees buckle a little as you hear the bullet snapping in place.

"Care to say that again, eh?" - Anything for your life, really.

"P-please don't kill me", you nearly sob, voice small and quiet, and you are ready, willing to put it all in there, "Please, I am begging you, Mister. I- I don't know why you're here, this - this is one big misunderstanding, I don't know anything about my husband's business. J-just let me go, please."

He does not move. You don't want to die, you are young, you still have a life to live. Maybe you will finally file for divorce. Maybe you will buy a house in Europe. Maybe, maybe, maybe -- You don't want to die.

"Please."

Tangerine says nothing for a moment, then his lips tilt up. "Tell me, love, d'ya beg for him that prettily, too? Or 's that just f'me?"

You blink. "What?", you blurt out.

"Jus' lemme hear it again, sugar - sounded so sweet, that."

You do not know what game he is playing but you really aren't ready to die yet either, so you give in.

"Please", you beg, looking at him with big, teary eyes - the barrel of the revolver stares back, a small black hole of ultimate death -, "Please, let me live." His lips tilt up and you decide to make a move on it, catch him off-guard.

"I-I'd do anything, I give you whatever you want!", you are growing desperate now, your brain trying its hardest to come up with something that will safe your ass. And that, that has his eyebrows knotting together.

The man seems to mull it over for a short while, eyes you up and down. Your skin tingles with it, feels numb and like it is on fire at the same time. "Did ya just say Anything, love?"

"I-I did, y-yes", and your voice grows desperate, "I'd do anything - just don't kill me, please, what do you want, I'll do --"

You ramble on and Tangerine rolls his eyes at you, exhales annoyed.

"Fuckin' shut up", he growls and you do, chin quivering a little with the tears still pooling in the corners of your eyes. You blink them away, sniffling a little.

"Here's what we're gonna do, love", he smiles cooly, shows his teeth like a predator, eyes drilling into you, "We're gonna have a little fun. And once we're done, I'll let ya go. How does that sound? Agreed?"

You have a suspicion what fun means, both, painfully clear and enforced by the way his gaze wanders over your body and you gulp. You really don't have a choice now, do you?

So you can hear yourself say: "Y-yes."

"Yes --?", he lifts his gun a little, gestures with it, "C'mon be a good girl."

Your eyes widen. You are not stupid; you know what he most likely wants to hear - you have met men like him before your marriage - and despite it making your stomach tingle a little it also makes painfully clear what he is imagining as A little fun.

Your voice is small, fingers fumbling with the hem of your tweed blazer. "Y-yes, Daddy", shivers run down your spine as his eyes turn dark dark dark, gaze transfixed by you and then he barks out a mean laugh.

"Fuckin' hell", what?, "I wanted you to thank me, you dumb fuckin' thing, not be a complete 'n utter slut about it."

Shame burns on your cheeks and you scramble for words - anything to say, to excuse or justify yourself - as mortification swallows you whole, crawls up your spine and mingles with your fear, has your head swimming.

"What a poor lil' airhead ya are", he grins at you meanly, "But I like it, go 'head, keep callin' me that. Probably gets you all wet, dunnit?"

You shake your head wildly - "N-no" - bottom lip quivering a little and he knows you are lying.

And Tangerine starts to grow bored. He has been feeling quite bored for a good while - since he blew Markov's lights out to be exact. He wishes he had not done it so soon, would have rather tied him up and let him watch how he has his way with his wife. Tangerine sighs, puffs his cheeks and let’s go off a breath dramatically, looks you straight in the eye.

"Alright, listen. I just don't have all day, so ya better get going, before I pop ya too", he waves his revolver at you, "Get undressed. 'n do it slowly."

You nod - I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die - fingers brush over the first button of your blazer, as he interrupts you: "Ah ah ah, what d'ya say?"

Your eyelids flutter and your knees feel like giving in. "Y-yes, Daddy."

Tangerine hums deep in his throat. "Atta girl - now keep going."

With shaking hands, cold sweat pooling between your fingers, you start to slowly unbutton the first few buttons of your costume's blazer. It's a Chanel tweed set, since you had just been out with some friends for lunch, before one of them told you about what had she'd seen yesterday. Part of you wishes you had never left the restaurant, just shrugged it off and ordered another drink instead. You don't even know why you fight for this marriage - you never really spoke to him; he never touched you or even really looked at you - not that you minded that much. But it's losing your status, the money he brings in, that you'd miss and thus, you had grown a nice pair of manicured claws over time.

See where that got you.

Your blazer falls to the ground with a thud and Tangerine licks his lips. And that is when another part of you, very quietly at the back of your mind, is a little glad you came here. It's in his eyes mostly, a strange and unknown hunger, like an animal gone wild. And it ignites something in you, shoots pleasure straight down your loins and has your breath hitching.

No one, no one has ever looked at you like that, like he is close to dashing over the desk and swallowing you whole, eating you up and ripping you apart with razor-sharp teeth.

Your blouse follows next, as you pop open the first few buttons, pulling the thin fabric out of your short tweed skirt. It flows to the ground shortly after, leaves you in your bra, skirt, and heels. Tangerine does not give you as much as a few seconds to accommodate to being partially exposed to him, his eyes gleaming dangerously.

"Skirt's next, darlin'."

You inhale audibly through your lips and Tangerine chuckles quietly at that as you unhook the clasp on your skirt, slooowly pulling down the zipper at the side. You feel ridiculous, like a very bad caricature of a housewife stripping for her husband. It's nothing like you imagined it to be, fingers buried deep inside of you, imagining your husband to be someone else, someone prettier, someone who valued you - someone who you'd love to get dirty for. You don't feel sexy or tempting - but to him you certainly do look the part, the way your body quivers and shakes, all shy by avoiding his gaze.

The expensive tweed falls to the floor and you step out of the fabric of your clothing, pooling around your feet. You gulp, carefully looking up at him. You wonder if he likes what he sees, if it's enough for him to spare your life, to --

Tangerine's heart skips a beat, a sharp noise erupting in his ears. The lingerie you are wearing, a stunning pale-pink lace set, hugs your curves nicely and leaves nothing to the imagination - with the way your nipples poke through the bra, the string cupping your cunt, dipping a little into the cleft of your folds.

He can also see the damp patch on your lacey string and it makes his dick rock-hard, pressing against his slacks. He lifts an eyebrow, as he looks at you. "Who would've thought", and you blush, swallowing, "He married a common whore."

The humiliation burns on your cheeks, turns them red and your mouth goes dry, but there's also fresh wetness pooling between your legs at his words. Oh, you are fucked.

He reads you like an opened book, watches you shifting uncomfortably. "Say it", he whispers softly.

You swallow, licking your lips, before replying quietly: "I am a common whore - Daddy."

"That you are, darlin', aren't ya", Tangerine grins, "Get that bra off, show me what ya got."

You reach back and unclasp the soft lace, pulling the strings over your shoulders and down your arms, carelessly throwing the fabric to the side. Tangerine tilts his head a little, his eyes assessing your tits. He seems satisfied, waves his revolver at you.

"Touch yourself, I wanna see those pretty tits movin'", swallowing, your hands come up, damp with cold sweat and cup your tits, bouncing and squeezing them a little, pressing them together. You do not dare looking at him, gaze focussed on the desk instead, hands brushing over your breasts.

You just started rolling your left nipple between your index finger and thumb, gasping quietly, the slight pain and pleasure running straight between your legs as he suddenly moves. You flinch, arms immediately clutching around your exposed chest while he gets up, deliberately strolls over to you.

Maybe he is not satisfied, he surely isn't, it must've been too little, not enough he's gonna kill you, kill you, kill you --

"Such perfect fuckin' tits", he weighs his revolver in his hands, the metal of it clinking against his rings, and closes in on you. "Have ya been touched often?", the barrel of the gun hooks underneath your chin and your lift your head with it obediently, looking up at him. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, your eyes big and teary again. You don't think he's one to slip on the trigger but it still has anxiety crawling up your spine - don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me --

"Answer me, ya stupid twat."

You just wish he would take that fucking gun away from your face.

"N-no", you answer truthfully. The last time you had sex was literal ages ago, in your time at Harvard. Since your parents had married you off you haven't been touched by another fucking human being, assured so by the constant observation of your husband's men. He was allowed to cheat, but God forbid you had some fun. So, you had retreated to fucking yourself, lacking any physical contact, making every single time you masturbated feel shallow and incomplete. Tangerine watches the way your face changes as you reminisce.

"Oh, ya poor thing", he coos, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and you look up at him, "Bet that felt horrible, didn't it?"

And you nod, his thumb caressing your cheek and you get a first good look at him. He is really pretty. The blood looks good on him, bright red in a glooming contrast to his blue eyes. Your head swims with it a little. "How did that make ya feel, eh?"

"Lonely", you croak, before you can stop yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks, pooling between his fingers and rings.

He hums in his throat. "Bet it did", something dances across his eyes, "D'ya want someone to take care of ya? D'ya want to stop feeling so bloody lonely all the time?"

The truth behind his words runs you over like a freight train, barely leaves you wondering with how he got that about you so fast, brain erupting in a static noise.

You do. You feel lonely, locked up in a golden cage of money and bodyguards, with no one opening its door to spend some time with the little bird inside.

"Y-yeah", you whisper, blinking away the tears.

"Wanna know something, love?", and you nod, carefully, not to spook him into shooting, "I could be that person. How's that sound, eh? I could keep ya safe -"

Tangerine's hand leaves your cheek and touches your waist instead, a feather-light touch that has goosebumps spreading all over your body.

"I could touch ya -", his hand sprawls over your lower back, "'N keep you happy, get ya lots'n lots of pretty, sparkly things."

Your breath hitches, brain slowly growing mushy because - because, despite the gun underneath your chin, that does sound heavenly. It sounds easy. Painless. Better. A little exciting even.

"C'mon, how's that sound?", he coos, hand running over your back, to your side again, thumb toying with the hem of your string.

"Sounds so good, Daddy", you sigh, images of a new life, a different life flashing by.

"Mh, I know it does. I could take you with me, make ya mine. You'd love that, wouldn't ya?", his fingers dance over your abdomen, dipping lower and between your legs. His thumb presses down on the damp patch, rubs over your clit, his bracelet rustling.

And it is like your brain has completely given up, surrendering yourself to this very handsome man. But you just can't since - "I-I am married", you croak, a little helplessly, like you don't quite know what to make out of that either.

He does, anger flickering behind his eyes like someone pulled a lighter out and ignited his gaze.

Tangerine growls, the barrel of his revolver pressing against your temple roughly, thumb rubbing smaller circles over your clit through your dampened string, "You belong to me now, d'ya understand? There's nothing he can do about it, y'hear me?"

"Y-yes Daddy, I do", you whine, eyelids fluttering and small tears running down your cheeks.

"Oh, stop fuckin' crying - I can feel how wet ya little cunt's gotten, fuckin' slut", and you blink up at him, a small gasp escaping your mouth as your gazes meet through teary eyes.

You just look so fucking hot to him. Adrenaline from his kill still pumps through his veins and it makes him so so mad, his ears ringing. He feels like he is about to fucking burst and your tears only spurr him on, making something in his stomach growl, stretching its claws out.

Tangerine is too far gone already, everything tinted red red red and he just wants to lash at you, bury his teeth in your throat and end your life like that, bury his dick deep inside of you and feel you twitch around him while blood spurts from your open wound, flows from your mouth. He wants.

But you are also so very very pretty to him, tears running down your cheeks, lips plush and quivering a little and nipples hard like glass, testing his patience with the way they poke out at him.

"Or actually, don't", his lips curl up into a cold smile, "I like to see you cry, hm? Y'real pretty like this."

And you sob heavily, his words making your head swim. Pretty pretty pretty - when was the last time someone called you pretty?

"Oh, darlin'", Tangerine whispers, gun grazing your temple, thumb rubbing small and hard circles on your clit, "Don't be hurt by Daddy, hm? I don't mean to hurt ya, now do I?"

"N-no", you shake your head a little, "Di-didn't hurt m-me."

"Mhm, you are such a good girl, aren't ya? Never hurt by your new Daddy, eh?"

You shake your head again but this time, his face grows stern. "Ah ah ah, words, love. Use your words."

"N-no, y-you could never hurt me."

"Yeah, I couldn't, how could I? I can say anything to you, call you whatever I like and you would never be hurt, would ya?"

And you do not want him to be angry, do not want him to think that he could hurt you - so that he doesn't accidentally slip and does just that - and you notice that fresh tears stream down your cheeks.

"I-I wouldn't, no", you blink away the tears and Tangerine smiles at you.

"That's right. I can call you whatever I like", his thumb speeds up and you moan sweetly, "What d'ya think? Doesn't slut fit you well?"

He says it with such adoration that you cannot help but sigh, nodding. "Y-yeah, it does", you reply quietly, ready to wear it with pride.

"Alright then, slut - take that sorry excuse of a panty off."

You follow his command, shaking fingers hooking underneath the hem of your string, pulling it down slowly.

"Faster, you dumb fuckin' slut."

"Uh-huh", you mumble, nodding, and hastily shoving your string down your legs until it falls down and pools at your feet - a pretty pink on a bright fur carpet. Now, with being fully naked, you feel incredibly vulnerable.

You still wonder if he really won't hurt you. You decide that if you stick by rules, he most likely won't.

Tangerine slowly walks around you, like a predator surrounding its prey, then comes to a halt behind you. The barrel of his revolver presses against the nape of your neck and then glides over your body - down down down - cold metal against warm skin, and then he reaches around your waist. The gun grazes your abdomen and slips between your legs, barrel running cooly through your folds. And you can't hold back the moan crawling up your throat, parting your lips, has you inhaling sharply.

"Yeah, that's more like it, innit?", he rubs the cold metal along your folds, "I can fuckin' smell how wet your cunt is."

And you can hear it, too - the way your pussy squelches obscenely around the barrel, wetness dripping down your thighs. Your knees buckle as the metal rubs along your clit, has you moaning shyly.

Tangerine wraps one arm around you, holds you upright with your back pressed flush against his chest and your heartbeat starts to pick up as you feel his hard dick pressing against your ass, hotly through his slacks.

"Lift your leg, love", he whispers, moustache brushing over the shell of your ear and you comply like you are a fucking robot, and his large hand wraps around the back of your knee, holds your leg up. You mewl as the gun wanders further, barrel brushing against your hole and then dips in with barely any effort, so so slick by your juices and your breath hitches, whole body trembling as the cold metal enters you.

"O-oh", you gasp dumbly, your body sacking back against him. The barrel isn't too big, barely larger than a finger, and rather short but it still feels - good? Tangerine starts to fuck you with it slowly, moves the gun in and out of you and your head swims with the thought, that he could just pull the trigger and blow your lights out, could leave you here bleeding to death.

Your legs start to shake, anxiety and lust mingling dangerously, and in a desperate attempt for any leverage your hand shoots up, reaches back and finds the back of his neck, clutches onto it, fists the pristine white banker's collar of his shirt.

"Yeah, that feels fuckin' good, dunnit?"

"Uh-huh", you breathe, the cold metal pumping in and out of you has lust pooling your stomach and you look down to where his tattooed arm wraps around your waist, where the black sparrow and the golden bracelet vanish along your pussy - watching the way you can see the grip and trigger moving against your folds.

You should be scared, afraid of him and afraid of the gun fucking into you - but you just aren't. Lust washes over your brain, makes everything go just a little hazy, wraps you in cotton candy - hot and syrupy, sweet.

"My god - shit", you breathe, your cunt aching to be touched and you wish for the barrel to just be a bit longer, able to fuck you properly, reach the parts only his cock could - the one that's pressing against your ass hotly, pulsing through his slacks. Instead, you roll your hips once, best you can with his iron grip on your thigh, meeting the thrusts of his gun.

It has you whining, the way the cold metal presses against your hot and slick skin, throwing your head back, resting on his shoulder. Tangerine moves in, like a hungry animal, lips and stache brushing over your exposed shoulder, tickling the naked skin while his eyes wander down your body - taking in your desperate thrusts, bouncing tits and hard nipples. You are fucking hot, maybe the hottest thing he has seen in a while, hotter than the tarts he fucks sometimes.

You seem clean - innocent and virginal and it nearly makes him bust a nut thinking about you: on all fours crawling towards him, sucking his cock until your throat bruises and you are a crying mess, tied to the bedposts taking him like a good fucking personal sex doll would. He groans against your skin, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your leg.

The sound has you vibrating. It leaves you wanting, wanting to feel more, to feel full; to hear more of him, more of where that came from. You can't hold yourself back. "D-daddy", you moan, the feeling of his hard dick pressing against you and the warmth that his firm chest radiates leaving you a little dizzy, "N-need your cock."

Tangerine chuckles against your shoulders. "Oh, now you're wantin' something, eh? What about me, love? What about our little deal?"

"'S for y-you, too", you whine helplessly.

"Oh no no no", he sounds genuinely amused, presses the gun snugly against your aching cunt and your legs tremble, "Don't ya try to get me all soft 'n shit, hm? You'll lose, love, you'll lose."

His tongue darts out, licks a fat stripe over your neck, testing your sweat mingling with your expensive perfume. It takes all his willpower not bury his teeth into your soft flesh until he draws blood and life fades from your eyes.

"N-need m-more", you gasp, hole clenching around the short barrel, cunt needy and aching and squirting against his fingers and the gun in anticipation.

"Well, then -- Why don't ya show me how you got yourself off all those years, hm? Show me how to work that sweet cunt of yours", his lips brush over the nape of your neck and your knees buckle at the soft touch, "Show Daddy how to do it."

Tangerine pulls the gun out of you and you gasp, eyelids fluttering, hole clenching around nothing at the loss, wanting the friction back and he slowly puts your leg back down. His hand brushes up your thigh and waist, rests on your shoulder, presses down a little. And you turn to puddy in his hands, knees giving in and you sink down, landing on your knees with a soft thud.

The fur feels soft around your knees and you lay your head back obediently, looking up at him through hazy eyes. You can see him swallowing, licking his lips. His revolver drips with your juices.

His hand grabs your chin, slight pressure on your throat and then he moves in, rubs his crotch over the back of your head. You can feel his hard, big dick against your skull and you can't help your mind from wandering there, wondering how might he taste.

"Feel that? That's what ya fuckin' slutty behaviour does t'Daddy", he bows down, grins at you and then, without warning, spits.

You flinch as his saliva hits your face, lands across your forehead and you cheeks. His thumb spreads it out, rubs it into your skin and you moan, humiliation pooling in your stomach and shooting down between your legs.

Tangerine chuckles, straightens back up and the hand leaves your face, your throat. "Spread ya legs, I wanna see what's gonna be mine."

You comply, sitting down on your ass and planting your feet in front of you, heels digging into the soft fur. He strolls around you, makes is way back to the desk.

"'N you fuckin' whore better put on a fuckin' good show for me, too", he growls, "It's what ya want, innit? Be a good girl f'me?"

It kind of is. The part of your brain that just doesn't want to die is oddly silent. There is something else, something that buries its claws deep deep in your mind and tears and tears and tears until everything is a little mushy and your brain complies - good girl good girl good girl.

Tangerine leans against the table, crosses his feet and places his hands on the edges, gun dangling from his slender fingers. "C'mon love, ya better don't wanna keep me waiting."

You look down at yourself and a surprised gasp leaves you mouth - you are incredibly wet, thighs sticky with your own juices. You run your fingers through your folds in awe, feeling your own slick, and you moan as you brush by your clit. You need more, body and cunt aching for it and your index finger starts to rub over your clit.

Squelching sounds erupt between your legs and you mewl at the sensation, your cunt so responsive, hole fluttering and your free hand darts out, grabs the fur beneath you.

"Such a pretty fuckin' cunt ya got", and your gaze darts up at him, stomach doing a funny little flip as your eyes meet his, breath hitching in your throat.

Tangerine licks his lips, gestures with his gun. "Rub faster, I wanna hear more of ya sweet moans, slut."

You comply immediately, rubbing your clit faster and you do moan for him, gasping with the pleasure shooting through your body, igniting your nerves. You throw your head back, not waiting for his next instruction, adding a second finger, rubbing large and quick circles around your clit, hips bucking and rolling against them, heightening the sensation.

Arching your back you moan and gasp, lust swallowing you whole and taking over your brain - eradicating anything and everything despite the need to feel more more more.

"C'mon, I know you wan'it, push one in and finger yourself", and your other hand flies to your wanton pussy; index finger briefly, impatiently circling your hole before eagerly dipping in, burying itself deep in one quick thrust. You hiss, quickly exchanged by a sweet gasp as you bottom your finger out.

You start to move it in and out of you, rubbing it along your walls and you can't help but sink onto your back, mewling as it enters you deeper, slips back in more easily. You feel so so dirty, naked in nothing but your jewellery and heels with his spit across your face, but you have never felt better either.

"O-one more, please", you beg, "Please, let me have one more."

Don't you just beg so prettily? He wonders if you will beg like that when he will shove a plug up your ass and fuck your throat, stuffing your cunt with a vibrator. He wonders if you will ask for another one to fuck your ass.

Oh, he will ruin you alright. "Since you ask so nicely", he coos, "Go ahead, slut. Whatever ya need."

Pushing a second finger in, the circles you rub on your clit become smaller and faster. You moan in rhythm with your fingers thrusting into you, curling them a little. Your legs go a little limp, knees darting away from each other, giving him an even better view of your assault on your pussy, the way your slick spreads up to your thighs. Your cunt gushes around your fingers as you force them in deeper, squirts against your hand.

Tangerine watches you coming apart smugly, weighs his revolver in his hands. Who would've thought a simple gun was enough to get you to buckle, give in and surrender yourself to him?

You are his now, he will never let you got. He will keep you and train you and make you needy and dumb for no one else but him.

The thought nearly makes his chest burst with the power trip it sends him on, and he spreads his legs a little, feels his hard cock pressing against his slacks. He can't fucking wait to get in that sweet sweet cunt of yours - show you how a real man fucks his wife, fucks what belongs to him. Tangerine can see, even from where he is standing, that you are fucking tight - the way your hole stretches around your delicate fingers has him licking his lips.

He can't fucking wait to claim you.

"Yeah, I can see he never fucked you properly", Tangerine rasps, shakes his head in silent disapproval as you mewl, arching your back, "I'd take care of you, y'know? Y'want that, don't ya?"

You nod nod nod, moaning as your fingers brush over your walls, stretching you out as you scissor yourself open - thinking about how good his huge fucking dick would feel inside of you instead - your hole fluttering around your digits.

"Bet ya do, lil' slut. Daddy's gonna take real good care of ya, ya'd never ever have to think again. Jus' lemme do the thinking."

"Shit, please, yes", you moan, rocking down on your fingers, pushing a third one in. You are so so full, juices squelching around your hole and wetting your hand and the fur underneath you but it's not enough. You start to pump the in and out of you quicker, deep thrusts hitting the spot inside of you just right.

"Yeah, I'd tell you exactly what to do", Tangerine hums, "I'd be coming home and tell my little slut to bend over the fuckin' kitchen table, stuff her tight 'n needy holes, 'n what would she say?"

"I-I'd thank y-you", you nearly cry out, your whole body feeling light and shuddering at the thought.

"Mhm, atta girl - and if I put ya pretty throat on a leash? Drag ya through the house and stuff ya full of toys? What would ya say to Daddy?"

"T-thank you, Daddy", you huff, chest heaving with your rapidly approaching orgasm, legs tensing up and toes curling.

"And what would ya say when I let ya cum, slut?"

"Thank you!", you sob, the two fingers on your clit rubbing mercilessly, your other hand fucking you hard and fast.

"That's a good girl. Lemme hear it then, cum you fuckin' whore."

Your orgasm hits you like a fucking train, your cunt pushing your fingers out as you convulse around them - a high pitched chant Thank you thank you thank you falling from your lips. Your arms fall to the side uselessly as you ride your orgasm out, wave after wave of warm squirt wetting the fur, as you moan and roll your hips, leaving you breathless.

Your eyes flutter open as you hear footsteps, see him approaching. He is still holding his revolver, the outline of where his large cock is pressing angrily against his expensive trousers.

"Too sad your husband couldn't just see that, eh?", there is genuine joy marking Tangerine's features, making his bright eyes gleam.

Oh shit - that reminds you of something.

"W-where is he?", you croak, legs still shaking with your recent orgasm, body sinking into the fur.

"Oh, love", he seems to smile at you, but his eyes don't join in on his lips tilting up, "He's right 'ere, ain't he?"

He points his revolver away from you, to the side and your eyes warily follow the movement. There is nothing there except the locked closet and --

And a dark pool of something on the ground, a trail of it slooowly creeping your way over the polished floor boards. It looks like-

You stretch your arm out, fingers darting out and the index finger dipping into the liquid. It's still warm and sticky.

And red. It does not take a genius to get what it is.

Tangerine licks his lips as he watches you, how realization creeps in, changes your facial expression. You look horrified and his dick twitches at the sight.

He closes in on you, bows down over your exposed body and grabs your hand roughly, pulls it in. "Would'ya mind cleaning that up f'me, love?", and your eyelids flutter and you do, like you are on autopilot, licking your dead husband's blood from your finger.

"Mhm", Tangerine hums and you gag a little around the metallic taste, which makes his face light up. He pulls his finger from your mouth, unbuckles his belt instead. "I think, I really might just keep ya."

"Y-you said you'd let me go", you gasp as his hand dips between your legs.

"Well, love - change of plans, innit?"

[hoes4lino]

A Love Letter I wish It Didn’t Exist 💌

A/N: I been doubting to post this, since this story is an adaptation on a real letter I made about my first love. Hope you guys enjoy! (This is also written in first person)

Genre: Romantic, First love, Angst, Suggestive

Word count: 5k

Reading Time: Approx 18 min

Pairing: Reader x Minho

Warnings: Mentions of substance, Reader can’t express emotions, some suggestive content nothing too explicit, happy ending? is as happy as real life can get.

Do you ever wish to fall in love? Hold someone’s hand in the cold breeze of autumn as the leaves fall. Be someone’s lover as the flowers bloom in spring. Be someone’s warmth during the freezing temperatures of winter? Be someone’s shadow on the strong sun rays of summer?

Yeah, well this doesn’t work for me.

Why you may ask, Ever since I was a child I was spoiled with love from my family and friends, growing up I wondered what I did in my past life to deserve such love.

As I went through my teens I started to despise such attention, why? I wish I knew. Growing up I didn’t have any crushes at all, just people I admired. I would often hear my friends babble about boys, fantasies I wished I never heard, and rant about their love life.

Though I never understood why, why couldn’t I be like them? Feel such a desire to love someone and have that feeling reciprocated.

Faking crushes became part of my life during middle school and high school, I felt like an outcast whenever my friends spoke about love, they were all experienced, yet I barely knew how to love myself.

I started dating a boy, not because I was in love but because I felt I had to, everyone I knew was experienced, yet I kept turning down boys.

I craved to get that tingly feeling my friends always talked about. I wanted to know what was the big deal about, and why people found it so addictive.

What is wrong with me?

This is the phrase that would haunt my mind every time I stared at couples walking on the cold breeze of autumn. ———

My high school years felt like something experimental, I went to parties, drank alcohol, did some weed, and hooked up… not because I was into those things but because I wanted to feel. I wanted to care about something. Yet I never felt anything but regret.

Why can’t I express my emotions? I know they are there. It’s as if they are locked up in a box inside of me.

On the first day of college, I was in a room filled with strangers, not a single familiar face, I felt like an outcast. Everyone is sitting next to someone but me.

As I sat at the back of the class next to a window, my eyes followed the leaves that fell from the trees announcing the beginning of fall.

My mind drifted into a peaceful scenario, everyone’s voices being muted by my brain as I took in such a beautiful scene. My chest felt heavy with emptiness, I would usually have a friend to share this moment with, yet here I sat alone.

I must have been too distracted cause I didn’t notice when he sat next to me, my body slightly jumping at the sudden appearance of the boy who sat next to me.

He was rather handsome, sharp nose, cat-like eyes, dark brown hair, and plump lips. He didn’t say a word though I know he must have felt my eyes on him, maybe he was trying to not embarrass me or maybe he was waiting for me to say something, yet I didn’t.

Once I was done staring I went back to stare at my window, noticing him shifting to look at it too, I couldn’t help but feel some warmth.

Why did I feel like that? He is just a stranger looking at the window… but why out of all these strangers he somehow make me feel at ease?

Freshmen year of college passed by, and I didn’t talk to this man, god knows what’s his name, but for some reason, he felt familiar, as if we had some type of bond. Maybe I’m crazy.

Our interactions that year went from walking to class together to sharing a couple of words when needed during class, it wasn’t until the last marking period that I realized I spent most of my time with him yet we were never close enough.

I felt weird. It felt weird.

Like imagine spending 70% of your day with the same guy for an entire school year and yet you don’t know his name or talk to him at all.

What’s crazier to me is that I feel like I got to know him through that silence… is this feeling what my friends call delusional? Is this real at all? Is it all my head? Can he feel it too?

Summer depression hit me like a truck, I’m not a sad person why do I feel this way? Empty… it’s like my body is craving something yet I don’t know what. I started getting frustrated, I thought spending time with friends and family would fix it, yet it didn’t… I’m missing a part… something.

During summer I went to a bunch of places, all of them filled with hundreds of people, yet my mind seemed to look for one each time… is it… him? ———

Sophomore year of college… I was too excited for my liking, I am usually terrified of new school years, afraid for what awaits me, but today my heart seems to beat faster than usual and it's not because I am nervous, it feels as if I'm waiting for something and I can’t wait to see it.

My day went by pretty fast, I went to my first two classes my heart filling with disappointment each time I scanned the room. At that moment I didn’t exactly know what I was looking for, I never really felt that way before.

The cold breeze was hitting my face as I sat in my business class, my mind focused on whatever I was working on.

“Is this seat taken?”

His voice sent shivers down my body, and my ears immediately recognized his soothing voice.

I look up to glare at him, the breeze coming from the window slightly moving his hair. I could feel my heart beating fast, my tummy doing backflips in excitement… I felt happy… but why?

“No, you can have it” I could feel my voice trembling as I spoke. As soon as he sat down I could only think of one thing.

Should I talk to him? What if I annoy him?

These thoughts consumed my head until the slight shift of his gaze moved toward me, my head immediately snapped to look at him.

“It's been a while,” He said softly with a thin smile on his face, I am not quite sure how I looked at that moment but I felt so self-conscious as I could see his eyes looking at me.

I nodded in response not quite sure what to say to that, I had a million thoughts running through my head, why do I feel this way around him?

“Minho” He continued, it must have been the way my eyes blinked in confusion as he slightly laughed “I figured you didn’t know my name, since we never really introduced ourselves last year” He explained. I wish the earth could eat me whole at this moment, I’m being too awkward. Say something y/n. SAY SOMETHING.

“uh oh,” I chuckled nervously, jesus christ why do I feel like imma puke right here “I’m y/n” I smiled, my gaze moving back to my computer. I was not too fond of the way I was feeling, It felt unknown and that scared me a lot.

Like why am I craving his attention but at the same time I wished he could disappear and leave me alone?

From that day on we became good friends, We would often greet each other and have casual conversations during class.

How much I loved your attention Lee Minho, yet you were clueless about it. If I had to name something I loved about him, I would stay and talk for hours.

“Y/n you are clearly in love” Those words repeated over and over in my head as my friend's voice muffled in the background. Love? “Y/n?” Is this how love feels like? “Y/N!”

I turn to look at my friend as she nudged my shoulder “All you talk about recently is about that damn boy, maybe you are finally catching feelings”

That night I stared at my ceiling, my eyes feeling heavy. Even when I was half asleep I would think of him. It wasn’t until I was almost asleep that I realized I was smiling hard at the thought of seeing him tomorrow.

I quickly sat on my bed, the darkness of my room surrounding me. Is this what love feels like? On one side I felt warm, but on the other side, I felt cold and afraid… what if he doesn’t like me? what if he does? Am I confused? Do I like him? Why him out of everyone? Why now and not before?

The next day I was so excited to see him, waking up a little earlier than usual to look good for him. I made my way through the lengthy hallways of our college when I spotted him. I felt nervous as I walked up to him, my heart falling to my stomach as I spotted him next to this beautiful girl.

She had long black straight hair, she was short and had a fit body, her curves were out of this world… and her face… don’t get me started.

I turned around with heavy feet, immediately searching for a bathroom.

I locked myself into a stall, it was 8:36 am.

Rule #3 don’t cry. Ever since I was a child I learned that crying doesn’t solve anything and that crying makes things worse, therefore I always hold my tears no matter how big the urge to cry.

In all my years of living, I never felt such an urge to cry as I did at that moment. I sat on the toilet concentrating on my breathing. The number of thoughts filling my mind was suffocating, I needed fresh air. Why do I feel like this? Why does my heart feel so heavy?

I left the stall to go to my business class, seeing him that day felt different, I was mad at him for some reason. Why? Is it because of the girl? He can have friends, is not like we are something, I remind myself.

That day I rushed to get home, the intrigue to know who this girl was, eating me alive.

I should have stayed curious.

Jasmine Kim, president of the architecture club, Asian student union, business manager of the robotics club, Academic weapon, and athletic.

How come have I never seen her before?

“ouuuu seems someone is jealous” My friend teased me through the phone, making me even more mad. I called her seeking help not to be made fun of. Ever since I did an FBI-type research on this girl I can’t help but compare myself to her. I never knew how to love myself, and this… this brought me to my lowest.

I hate feeling this way. I wouldn't say I like it. But no matter how mad I was, I couldn’t hate him.

Sophomore year went flying by, Minho seemed to grow close to Jasmine, and as much I wish I could say that didn’t affect me… it did. I decided to distance myself, after all, it was all a one-sided thing and it was for my well-being… right?

He had no clue about my feelings, so it wouldn’t matter if I suddenly disappeared from his life.

I felt selfish during this time, selfish of the way I treated him, I would ignore him during class or even his texts and he wouldn’t know why. He didn’t deserve this treatment, he didn’t deserve to be affected by my own emotions. ———

It’s the last summer days of 2023. Junior year started and it feels like it’s about to end. This year I haven’t seen Minho at all, my heart dies to see him but we have no classes together and my tight schedule keeps me busy from thinking of him.

“Remember Minho, The guy you had a crush on” My friend spoke on the the phone as I was too concentrated doing homework “What about him” I asked as I felt a knot forming in my stomach. I hated the way his name could get under my skin.

“He just joined my division in the robotics club and let me tell you that man is a complete dickhead” For some reason I felt the urge to fight back, defend him, and ask for an explanation; but I was too embarrassed for feeling this way I ignored her words “He is a man after all” Is all I managed to say, the curiosity eating me alive as I tried to not seem interested on what he could do to upset my friend.

After I found out about him being on the robotics club, I found myself going to the club often, I wasn’t part of it but I would make excuses to go and get glimpses of him.

The way he looked with his goggles on and thin layers of sweat on his skin. That man was dreamy no matter what he did.

No matter what I did to forget him, he would always be on my mind. In every room with hundreds of people, he would be the one I would look for.

“Excuse me” I raised my gaze to be met with a blond guy, he was the opposite of Minho, blond hair, a soft innocent face, freckles, and light brown eyes.

He was indeed pretty, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in knowing who this man was “I’m Felix” He said cheerfully.

I couldn’t help but compare him with Minho, unlike Minho he was friendly and straightforward “I’ve seen you around and I would like to get to know you”

To this day I feel so selfish for what I did. I thought that having someone's attention would make me forget you, yet you would still live rent-free on my head 24/7. I would often catch myself thinking about you. How was your day? Why do you look tired? Did you eat anything?

How much I wished I could get you out of my mind Lee Minho.

Putting him to the side, I and Felix spent a lot of time together, we had an art history class together, so we often met at the library to finish our projects.

“Would you like to go out for some beers with me and my friends?”

How much I wish I would of said no that day, maybe, just maybe that would have changed the track of things now. ———

I showed up, wearing my favorite cargo pants and a cute lace top, I had my favorite jewelry on and I went for a half-up hairstyle. I didn’t wanna go full-on dress up but I wanted to look classy and comfy at the same time.

How much I wish I would have worn something else.

I could feel my heart dropping to my stomach as the first person I spotted was him.

There are at least 100 people in this bar, yet there he is, sitting under the dim neon lights of the bar, he is wearing a full-on black outfit, his shirt unbuttoned showing a bit of his chest.

Talk about a man whore.

I jolt as I feel the warmth of a hand on my waist, turning around to be met with Felix. To this day I remember all this crystal clear, detail to detail.

I could tell he already had a couple of shots by the way he would slur his words.

“This is my homie Minho” He patted his back as he introduced me to him “We have known each other since high school, he can be our best man at our wedding”

I tried my best to not scoff at his words, wedding? We not even dating. I can tell Minho didn’t like this comment either by the way his posture became stiff and sat properly.

“Damn Felix, already feeling drunk,” He said in a tone that I can’t decipher to this day. It sounded annoyed but at the same time playful.

Minho stood from his chair and let Felix take it, he ordered him another drink and took me to another table.

“So you and Felix huh?” He sounded annoyed. At that moment I felt like I had to give him an explanation “We are not dating” I said briefly, why did I say that? That’s not his business.

“I see,” he said shortly. I remember the way my heart would pound, my hands were sweaty and I could feel my stomach doing backflips. I have never been so nervous around him till this day.

Maybe it was because it was our first time alone outside of school hours… or the shot of tequila I had was hitting.

As we both sat at a table away from our friends I could feel the way his eyes would travel around my body, I felt self-conscious.

The way his eyes would burn my skin is a feeling I miss with my whole heart. The chokehold you have on me Lee Minho.

“I love your necklace” He leaned to take a better look, his hand hesitating to grab the little Swarovski swan that hung on my neck.

His breath tickled my neck and I could feel myself shiver. I'm not sure if he was doing this on purpose but he was driving me crazy.

“Thank you, It’s my first ever expensive necklace,” I said as I tried to ignore the warmth of his breath on my neck “I bought it for myself on my birthday” I smiled as his gaze moved to look at my eyes.

“You gifted it to yourself?” I nodded “It’s expensive, I didn’t expect someone else to get it for me” I’m not sure if I was tripping but by the look on his face I could tell he wasn’t pleased with my answer.

His eyes looked at me with a million expressions written in them, the soft neon lights of the bar shone like a galaxy in them.

“I would treat you like a princess if you were mine”

I hate you.

How can you say that to me and then leave Lee Minho?

To this day I can hear your voice saying those words to me at night. It’s like if you engraved it on my brain so that every time I'm about to go to sleep I can hear it.

After he told me those words, I felt him getting closer, his hand on my hand as his eyes begged me for permission.

“May I?” His voice was as soft as the singing of an angel. Next thing I remember his plump lips were against mine. It was a sincere kiss.

There was no way he liked me back… I mean… I saw the way he treated Jasmine. This had to be a sick joke. I gently pushed him away, his face pouting as my lips left his.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped” He backed away, as he was getting ready to leave. I panicked. I didn’t want him to leave.

I grabbed his wrist out of instinct “What’s your relationship with Jasmine?” My impulsive thoughts got the best of me. He looked at me with a puzzled look “Jasmine?” He chuckled.

“Answer me,” I said coldly, no expression on my face. I was trying to not crack in front of him. I wanted to hear the answer I craved for months.

“She is a mutual childhood friend, she is captain of my robotics subdivision, so we keep in contact” His words lingered in the air as I tried to fit the pieces together in my brain.

Does that mean he likes me? Why he kissed me?

“Is that why you pulled away?” He asked softly as if he was trying not to scare me away. On the other hand, I was embarrassed, I didn’t have the guts to say yes so I simply nodded.

He chuckled one more time.

If he only knew how much I adored his laugh, the way it would fill my heart with joy. His laugh was like listening to my favorite song for the first time. How much I miss it.

He sat down again and leaned closer, his hand cupping my cheek as he stared at me with soft eyes. How much I wanted to kill him in that moment, why would he ever look at me with such a gaze?

“That was my first kiss” My world stopped. What? No way… he was playing games with me.

Before I could even talk he stood up from his chair and offered me a hand.

“Would you dance with me?”

That night we danced under the neon lights of the bar, without a single worry of the world. I was shy but with him, I felt like the most confident person in the room.

This was the beginning of an intoxicating relationship. ———

Maybe our story didn’t last long but the time we spent together is something I will treasure my whole life.

Dating Minho was like walking by the shore late at night. It was peaceful, too good to be true. I was too drunk on his love I wished it would never fade away.

I'm grateful for the amazing experience he gave me those years we dated. I learned to love, but most importantly I learned to love myself.

“You look beautiful” I opened my eyes to see him laying next to me, eyes in awe as he moved my hair away from my face. “Ur lying” I giggled trying to cover myself from his gaze. It was 8am, this man was definitely blind in love if he thought I looked beautiful in the morning.

That day something felt off, he was not the type to speak his mind, he talked through gestures not words. Yet today he was too talkative. Complimented me every chance he got.

It was around 7pm, he was in the kitchen cooking dinner while I was in our bed scrolling through TikTok mindlessly. I heard a notification coming off from his phone. Im not the type to check my boyfriend’s phone but the notifications weren’t stopping.

I stood up to pick it up from his desk and go leave it to him, whoever was texting definitely had something to say; however as I saw who was texting him, I couldn’t help myself but take a peek.

‘Minho you need to tell her now’

‘Don’t make this harder for yourself’

‘Think about her happiness’

I was puzzled as I read the texts, it was Jasmine who was sending them… what she meant by that… I was startle when he called me name “y/n dinner is ready”

I placed his phone down. Anxiety consuming me, tears threatening to fall, thoughts suffocating my mind.

As I sat in the dining table I contemplated whether I should confront him or not, he looked happy. What was he hiding.

“If someone ever asked me what I love the most about you” His words brought me back from my thoughts. I looked at him, my face had no expression, I didn’t know how to feel. “I would say your eyes” I could see the way his face lit as he spoke about me, his cheeks flushing as he giggled like a teenage girl in love.

I couldn’t help but smile, this was something I loved about him, he always knew how to make me smile. “What is this compliment for?” I knew he had something to say, I looked directly into his eyes, trying to make him crack. Reveal his secret.

“Nothing special, I have always loved your eyes but I was too shy to say it” He said vaguely while he ate his pasta “And why say it now?” I never took my eyes off him, I saw the way his eyes looked at me nervously, he was definitely hiding something.

He didn’t answer my question, he just smiled “Would you love me even if we were kilometers far away?” His tone was serious, I felt shivers running down my spine as I felt the coldness from the question.

“Of course I would silly, why?” I said trying to kill the tension that suddenly sparked in the room. He remained quiet but then he shook it off and offered me a smile, though there was something off about it.

We were preparing to go to bed, I was already changed into my nightgown while I brushed my teeth. Minho was taking a quick shower before bed, although he was taking longer than usual, so I decided to wait for him in bed.

About an hour had passed my eyes felt heavy, debating whether I should check on him or try to sleep, His behavior today kept worrying me, he was acting weird and he wasn’t getting off the shower. I didn’t like the tension that has been lingering since dinner.

I entered the bathroom, the shower was still on, the hot water causing the mirror to fog “Honey?” I said softly, the water turning off at the sound of my voice. He took his towel and dry himself vaguely, wrapping it around his waist.

He stood in front of me, hair wet, eyes glossy and lips parted. Im not quite sure if it was steam trapped in the bathroom or his breath taking appearance that made it hard to breathe.

Without notice he kissed my lips, his body pushing me towards the counter, I gasped as he picked me up so I would sat on the counter, he kept kissing me, so desperate so passionate. Something was off.

Minho was the type to take things slow yet today he was kissing me like it was his last time. That’s when my stomach dropped, the texts flashed in my head, his glossy eyes, the long shower, his question during dinner.

He was leaving me.

I placed my hands on his shoulder, gently pushing him, my heart shattering into pieces as I saw his tears rolling down his cheeks. I was quiet. Should I say something? Should I let him talk first?

He just stood in front of me, his gaze on my chest. I took a deep breath, a breath that held back my emotions, I know Minho and the last thing he would want to see is me crying for him.

I gently placed a hand on his cheek, ever so lightly like I was touching his fragile soul, and slowly I leaned to kiss his lips.

“I love you” I muttered in his lips, his hands moving to wrap me into a tight hug. This was the first time in three years of our relationship I ever said ‘I love you’ ———

The next morning I was cradled in his arms, my fingertips gently rubbing the scratch marks I left from last night.

I looked up to see him in a peaceful slumber. I looked at his plump lips I was busy kissing last night, I heard his stable heartbeat that brought peace to my mind, and I felt his warm skin touching mine. I wish I could capture all this in time. In all our years of knowing each other, that day felt like we truly got to know each other.

“I’m leaving to study abroad” My heart stopped. His words repeated in my head, tears threatening to fall “I’ll go wherever you go” My body betrayed me as tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Y/N” He hugged me as I tried to push him away “Your life is here, you can’t just abandon everything for me” He started crying as he hugged me tighter. I kept fighting back I wanted to push him away and look him in the eyes.

“You are my everything Minho” I screamed into his chest, my words being muffled. I could hear his heart-stopping, and that’s when I realized he was equally heartbroken as me.

I stopped fighting to hug him back, breaking into an inconsolable crying, he cried with me, our bodies dropping to the floor as we never separated from each other.

I had to let go. ———

A year passed after our break up, our memories playing vividly every time I walked by our favorite restaurant or the park he took me on our first date.

It was a cold day in the fall of 2023, I was making my way into the subway. I was listening to our shared playlist. I always listen to it when I have a bad day, it brings me comfort, and our memories warm my heart.

That’s when I saw him. My eyes must have been playing with my heart, I didn’t have time to process it when I found myself running towards him.

“Minho..” I said shyly, I hadn’t seen him in a year and now he dared to appear. His expression when he saw me copied mine. We were both equally stunned to see each other.

He hugged me without saying a single word, though I’m not surprised he spoke through actions, not words.

However, this is not a Disney fairytale where everything has a happy ending. We caught up with each other’s life, we had a great time together, and our connection didn’t fade away although we spent a year with no communication; however, it was time to say goodbye again.

It’s up to fate if our future is meant to be together, but something we both left clear is that we will always love each other.

So in conclusion. Lee Minho I hate you for stealing my heart but at the same time the love I profound you is a light in my heart that will never turn off no matter what the Universe has planned for us.

A love letter I wish it didn’t exist.

The end

A/N: The amount of tears I shed writing this is astonishing- anyway hope y’all liked it, the timeline in this is very inaccurate and my brain kept messing up, so if something looks off please tell me. Thank you <3

[ellethespaceunicorn]

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Three

Chapter Three: The Wolf In My Living Room

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: Your eventful day starts…RIGHT NOW! *draws mouse ears on the fourth wall* 

Warnings: slight dry humping, slight choking, making out, love bites (hickeys)

A/N: A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this. 

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

You wake to the sounds of the forest coming to life. The leaves in the trees rustling in the morning wind, birdsong as they wake and communicate to each other, and the soft rumbling of snores over your shoulder. 

Puffs of air tickle your neck, and the firmness of the mattress under you seems misplaced. The heavy weight around your middle and the press of the warm body behind you is enough to have you remember where you slept last night.

If any of those things weren’t enough to wake you up, surely the unmistakable bulge of something poking at your backside would do it. You are quite flattered because it has been a long time since you’ve had a man in your bed. You also know that men get boners when the damn wind blows, so it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s there because of you.

Until the surrounding arms tighten and his hips push into yours just slightly. His nose sneaks into the space between your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply.

You can’t help the desperate sigh that escapes you, and the answering groan from the man behind you only inspires you to push your hips back into him. Your name is a whisper on his lips as one of his hands moves to the front of your neck. His thumb on your pulsepoint has you keening, while his other hand slowly glides down your stomach toward where you want him most. But once his massive paw cups you...

“Wait!” The yelp left your throat before you permitted it to do so. Waiting was not at all what you wanted to do, but your brain had other plans. Fight or flight response on high alert.

Walter freezes with one hand on your neck and one hand over your clothed sex. His chest heaving as he seems to try and calm himself down. 

“I’m sorry, I just, it’s been a long time,” you blurt, surprised to be able to put forth words that actually make sense, “Feeling a little overwhelmed, is all.”

“I’m so sor–”

“Don’t be sorry, Walter. I want this. I just, I’m not ready.” Mentally, you are kicking yourself for not letting this man take you to Pound Town.

Walter removes his hands from your groin and your neck, the warmth leaving with them. “Just, please tell me I didn’t force myself on you. I couldn’t live with myself if I pushed you in any way.”

You turn to face him, one hand going to cup his jaw. “You didn’t push me, I promise. I...I want you. My body wants you, too. But, I know I’m not ready. For more. Yet.” The thought of your ex is heavy in your mind, the relationship you thought would last forever.

Walter nods, his eyes on you as he turns his head to kiss your palm. “What do you say we get some coffee?”

You nod, afraid to speak more and possibly ruin the moment. Your thumb ghosts over his bottom lip, your eyes still locked on each other as you both lean in. Once your lips meet, it’s as though nothing else matters. His top lip is between your lips, as your bottom lip is between his. Your hand roams from his jawline to tangle in his curls.

Before you know it, Walter is pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. His intensity only drives you to want him more. The taste of his tongue as it massages yours is almost enough to have you take back your words. You could keep kissing him for hours, days, weeks if he let you. But, then again, you always were a sucker for a good kisser. And Walter? He was something to write home about.

He slows down the kiss to let you breathe, and you pull back to get a firm grip on yourself and on reality. As much as you want this man to rearrange your guts, you would like to continue things on a slower progression. Thanks in part to your ex, who did everything with the speed of a cheetah.

“I don’t wanna keep you in the dark about something, so I’m just gonna say it. My ex is a huge reason why I wanna take things slow, Walter. He and I were briefly engaged and it didn’t end well when I broke it off. He’s not like, dangerous or anything. Just a bit of a dick sometimes is all.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and look up at Walter who is just smiling at you as if you didn’t just ruin his boner.

“Thank you for telling me. I hope you know that makes me want to be even more protective over you.” He pokes at your chin and you duck your head.

“I mean, I guess I should expect that from a wolf, huh?” You slide your hand from his curls, down his neck, and around to his chest. 

“Yeah, you really should,” he says, turning to stretch, and no doubt adjust himself, “Let’s get that coffee, and I’ll take you back to the park to pick up your car.”

The coffee maker bubbles and brews. You sit on the kitchen counter while Walter stands between your legs. His hands stroke your thighs as he kisses and nips at your neck. You did try to keep a bit of distance between you, but the moment he stepped into your personal space, it was all over.

Once the coffee is done, Walter pours you both a cup. While you sip your coffee, you sit in companionable silence. You get the feeling that he doesn’t mind the quiet, he might even relish it. Even though you still have some questions, you decide to wait to ask them, choosing instead to enjoy the non-verbal flirting between you two.

You gather your things and Walter drives you to the park just outside the forest to pick up your car. Your phone is still dead in your coat pocket, but you have an idea. You get into your car and grab an old receipt from the console. Scribbling your phone number on the back of it, you hand it to him and tell him to call you later. 

He pockets the paper and promises to call that evening. With a kiss on the cheek, he tells you to get a move on getting home. You put the key into the ignition and turn it, the car springing to life. Waving to him one last time, you drive out of the parking lot and start to make your way home.

If you are honest with yourself, you miss him already.

Pulling up to your house, you’re not surprised to see a distraught Olivia pacing on your lawn. Her car is in your driveway along with a truck that seems familiar. Once you park a bit behind Liv’s car, she throws her hands up and comes to greet you as you exit your vehicle.

“Oh, my God. Your phone has been going straight to voicemail since yesterday!!” she shouts, seconds before she wraps you up in a bear hug, “Look, I’m sorry, but I called him since he’s a fucking bloodhound. Don’t be mad at me, I was worried.”

“What? Who are you talk–” 

Just then, you see shoulders turn around and those eyes meet yours. Eyes that still held that fire for you, even after everything.

“Hey, Bug,” he mumbles, walking over to where you and Liv are still holding onto each other, “Olivia, here, called me when she couldn’t get a hold of ya.”

Bug. The name he used to call you when you were dating. You close your eyes and steady yourself before detaching yourself from Liv and stuffing your hands in your pockets. You weren’t really in the mood to deal with this right now, but you understand why she called...him.

“Well, here I am. I made it home safe and sound. So, thank you but I think I got it from here, James.” you advised, trying to be calm in the face of your ex-fiance.

“Ya know, you can still call me Sy just like everyone else, Bug.” he offers, smiling down at you while you chew on your cheek.

“Yeah, I know. I guess I’m not everyone else, James. I feel like I’ve made that clear more than enough times.” you seethed, if only your eyes could shoot lasers.

“Got it. You’re still pissed. Well, do me a favor, Bug. Keep yourself safe. Check in with your friend when you’re, uh,” he pokes at a bruise forming on your neck, “Going out to meet somebody.” He snorts, walking back to his truck.

Liv turns to you and smacks you on the arm, whispering harshly as she does, “All this was for some dick? Like, kudos! But damn, you coulda told me!!”

As he backs out of the driveway, he stops just short. “Maybe stay in tonight. Me and a buncha boys from town are gonna be heading out looking for this menace been taking down livestock and all. Probably just a wolf or something. But whatever it is, it ain’t safe out here.”

You hated that he still cared for your well-being and honestly, you didn’t need his judgment either. But you used to love this man. Shit, you were planning on marrying him and raising however many kids he wanted. A little piece of you feels shitty for wanting to bite his head off. You can tell he still cares at least. It’s just hard to skip over the bad times when you think about your ex.

“Look, thank you, James. I’ll worry about keeping myself safe. You do the same?” you reply, pushing away Liv’s hands from your neck.

“Will do, Bug. Alright now. See ya ‘round.” He backs out of the driveway fully, throws a hand up in a wave, and drives off.

You turn to Liv as she puts a hand on your shoulder. “You know you owe me the deets, right? Like, everything?”

“Yeah, I know. But, truth be told, it is barely anything yet. Can it wait until it’s something more substantial, at least?” you implore, knowing damn well you like Walter more than you’d be honest about at this moment.

“Okay, so you didn’t fuck him yet. Did you least taste it?” This woman has no chill.

“Liv! Oh, my God.” you blurt, hand going to your face.

“Alright, so you didn’t taste it. Must have been an intense makeout session though, huh? That’s why you look so tired, hun?” she rambles on as you start to walk past her to your front door.

“Bye, Liv! Good luck getting your car out.” you shout back, the key already unlocking the door.

You watch from the living room window as she makes various turns to get her car out from in front of yours. You love the girl, but she deserves that after the third degree. And after calling your ex-fiance when she couldn’t reach you. Like, what was she thinking? Probably thinking the worst, you’re sure. 

But, really? She called...Sy? If that didn’t open a can of worms later on, you will be surprised. 

But for now, you’ll just put it behind you in favor of a cup of cocoa and possibly a very long shower. That would be enough after your very eventful night in the woods. And you were looking forward to finally plugging your phone in and getting a call from a certain bearded wolf.

Many hours later, you were doing some cleaning around the house, which consisted of walking around with a glass of wine in one hand and a duster in the other. Sure, you tidied up the living area, but you half-assed the rest of the first floor and you didn’t care. You were putting off taking a shower because you could still smell Walter on you.

Not like you were swooning over his smell or anything. Okay, maybe you liked the way his pheromones seem to act differently. It wasn’t just a woodsy, man smell. It was musky, strong, like fresh sweat all the time.

After three-quarters of the bottle is gone, you cork the wine and put it into the fridge to save for later. Turning off the lights and speaker system, you resigned yourself to finally scrubbing this day away.

To keep yourself sane, you plugged in your phone on the bedroom charger before going to the bathroom for that long shower you wanted. Settling in bed afterward, you moisturize your skin and dress in a comfy nightgown. You unhook your phone from the charger and scroll through the notifications. 

A couple of texts from Olivia, checking in on you. A few junk emails that you delete. One missed call from Sy, with a voicemail.

Well, fuck.

You didn’t want to open that voicemail just yet, not that you get the chance to. You hear a crashing coming from downstairs. Not today, bitches. I’ve had enough surprises. You move to your closet to grab your bat. Five seasons of company softball have led you to this point. Kicking a home intruder’s ass. Sliding your phone screen open, you quickly turn on the smart lights for the living room. As you come down the stairs, holding the bat aloft, you hear a groaning noise.

Turning to the sound, you find Walter clutching his abdomen and standing against the entryway to the kitchen. He’s still in the clothing from last night, his gray henley soaking through with blood. You drop the bat to look at the wound but there is no hole in the shirt. You direct him to lie across the dining room table after taking his shirt off while you go find your first aid kit.

Coming back from the kitchen, you get out a pair of gloves and start to clean what looks like a bullet wound. 

“So, obviously I have questions. Like, a ton. But we’ll start with ‘How did you know this was my house?’.” you ask, stitching up the wound.

“I just followed your scent,” he admits, hissing as you tightened a stitch, “And the car in the driveway kinda helped too.”

“Of course. Next question. What the fuck happened?” you press, finishing up the last stitch before cleaning it off and applying gauze.

“I was out in wolf form and a few hunters were out, too. I managed to draw them away from the cabin. I tried to make it back but one of ’em got me. Figured if I shift back to human form, I could drive out here to you. And, I probably shouldn’t have driven with a gaping wound like that, but I wasn’t able to think that clearly. I also might have parked on your lawn and I apologize for that. May I pass out on your couch?” he chatters, already rising from the table and narrowly missing the light hanging over it.

“Whoa there, Wolfie. Let me help you to the couch, at least,” you insist, letting him hang an arm over your shoulder.

Having him against your body again was a welcome consolation, if only for a moment. You deposit him on the sectional and he grips onto a throw pillow as soon as he lays down on his stomach. You pull a blanket off the back of the couch and cover him with it. His hand touches yours as you pull away.

“Just need a little rest, Pup. Be good as new.” he trails off, your hand slipping out of his.

Watching his sleeping face, he looks so peaceful. A curl is over one eye and you reach out to tame it, but it springs back right into place. You laugh to yourself as you walk to the dining table to clean away the trash. 

Once done, you look back over to where Walter is snoring softly. Turning out the lights, one by one, you leave on the light above the sectional. You walk upstairs to your bedroom. Climbing into bed, you think this is the perfect night to go to bed early for once.

But your brain goes back to this morning. Walter’s arms around you. His scent is fresh on you. If you could keep extra quiet, you’re sure you can crank one out without waking the beast downstairs.

Right?

To be continued...

A/N: So, the chapter summary was a nod to Disney Channel. I am not a Disney Adult, I just love nostalgia.

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