#faux-profanity

[kmalexander]

Raunch Review: Carnival Row

Raunch Review: Carnival Row

Raunch Reviews is a series about profanity. Not real profanity, but speculative swearing. Authors often try to incorporate original, innovative forms of profanity into our own fantastical works as a way to expand the worlds we build. Sometimes we’re successful. Often we’re not. In this series, I examine the faux-profanity from various works of sci-fi and fantasy, judge their effectiveness, and…

[sincerelyrki]

forbidden attraction

getting cheated on was never easy, but you wanna know what is? revenge. and as the infamous song says, if he’s cheating i’m doing him worse (aka fucking his four best friends).

pairing : enha!hyungline x fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. double pen. oral (m+?f?). cum eating/sharing. unsafe sex. spanking. handjob. profanity. name calling. degration. profanity. a bit of begging. fivesome. no cheating bcuz i don’t fw that. jakehoon kissing once. not shipping the members!! it’s just for the plot. 18+.

wc : 3.8

a/n : a birthday gift to myself and everyone else born on september 2🫡 bonnes fêtes pote <3

tl : @vousty @ilololoveyou @moon0fthenight

Jay was appalled.

There were many things in life that confused him, but this? He’s never been as speechless as he was right now.

Whether that stemmed from his confusion on why one of his best friends would cheat on a girl like you or from your warm mouth wrapped oh so fucking deliciously around his cock- he wasn’t too sure.

But as much as he was appalled, he was thankful. so fucking thankful. it wasn’t every day that his best friend's ex-girlfriend came knocking on his door with nothing more than a poor excuse of a t-shirt and her slutty little miniskirts, not that he was complaining, but it was all too conflicting. 

Was he supposed to call Sungchan and tell him that his hot ex was at his door? He couldn’t imagine that going down too well with him, not after the next few words came spilling from your pretty lips- god your lips.

He almost wishes you never came over because he wasn’t sure how he could ever go back to being strangers with you, not after seeing the way you took him so perfectly down your throat. 

But as all good things come, they go. And it went with another knock on his door, one that barely sounded out before it was being swung open. 

Jay might’ve been the most unlucky lucky man to walk this earth. Lucky because he had you on your knees for him- unlucky because of the three other men who seemingly showed up out of nowhere.

“You started without us? I should’ve known a needy fucking slut wouldn’t have waited.” And by the faux pouting voice of Heeseung, Jay would’ve kept that narrative. It seemed that everyone except for himself had come to hear about this… event? Yep, he was definitely confused.

But as said before, he was so fucking thankful. But if he had known that opening the door to an enigmatic person like yourself, would he have left it closed?

No, no he wouldn’t have. Because if he had then 

he’d miss the singular hottest thing he’d ever seen- who knew watching his best friends fuck the girl he’s wanted for what feels like forever, could feel so fucking good? 

That’s definitely the one reason why he’s in this position right now, he’d refuse any other answer anyways. 

Jay’s head fell back with an abrupt moan, his head snapping back way too fast to be classified as safe. His legs shook from beneath you from the immense pleasure shooting across his entire midsection, his noises only grew louder the deeper he reached.

Your nails were scratching red lines across the man beneath you but through the combination of the hands grabbing against you and the cock you were being lowered on, you barely noticed. 

“Almost there, you’re doing so good.” Heeseung’s voice was no louder than a whisper when he breathed heavily in your ear, the actions going on under him getting to his head. His eyes were glued to the way you sucked his friend in perfectly, your walls moulding to the twitching man beneath you.

Heeseung was almost envious of Jay, he’d do anything to feel your tight cunt wrap around him instead. But he knew that his time would come- and that it’d feel almost a hundred times better. And so he continued to shush you from over your shoulder as his lips pressed small pecks against your open neck, his hands wrapped around your waist as he moved you against Jay. 

You fell apart in the two men’s embrace, the world fading into a haze as you fell into the feeling of getting used. It’s barely been a minute since you’ve been completely lowered on Jay yet you already felt completely fucked out.

Your sensitivity came in bursts of loud gaps and quiet moans, your legs unable to clench due to the tight holds of Jake and Sunghoon, one on each side. 

“Please, i-i need more…” Even in your current situation you couldn’t help but beg for more than you could take, the desire to be completely and utterly claimed by the four men surrounding you overtaking any conscious part of your brain. You wouldn’t be satisfied until you’ve had them all, and that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

“You need more or-?” Heeseung paused mid to push his teeth into your neck, his teeth pressing against you for a few seconds before pulling back. He glanced at the red spot once before he began lapping at it, his warm tongue providing comfort to the sore area. 

After soothing the spot he moved more confidently, his tongue pressing flat against your collarbone before licking a stripe up to your jawline. One of his hands left your waist to pull at your hair, the loudest gasp yet leaving your lips, “or do you just want it?” He pressed a final kiss against your ear before letting go of your hair. 

“Need, I need it.” Sunghoon looked up at Heeseung’s expected gaze before moving his eyes toward your face. His cock twitched in its confinements at your expression, his eyes following your tears streaks all the way down until your open mouth. 

He knew what Heeseung was asking of him, but he wanted something else. As much as he’d love to feel your lips wrapped around his dick, he’s been eyeing something much more… tasty. 

It came to a shock to both you and Jay once you felt something warm kitten licking at your entrance- well the spot where the two of you were connected in precisely. 

Both your eyes snapped down at the sudden sensation, it was safe to say that the sight didn’t disappoint. Sunghoon wasn’t shy in the way he was so evidently open to making the both of you feel as much pleasure as possible, his tongue pressing against the two of you as Jay slid out, Sunghoon’s tongue aiding him in pushing further in. 

It was nasty, but it tasted way too good for any of you to give a shit. Neither Sunghoon nor Jay seemed to care about the way Sunghoon’s tongue continuously licked along Jay’s cock. 

“I always knew that fucking bitch was fruity.” Jake tried to tease Sunghoon but not even he could stop his eyes from following the movements of Sunghoon’s ministrations. 

As much as the other two boys enjoyed watching the three of you, they were growing extremely impatient. 

Heeseung, being done with waiting around for his turn decided to force himself into the equation with an offer he knew you wouldn’t be able to refuse, “You wanna know what would feel even better?” 

He got his answer through the barely noticeable stutter of your growing noises. A smirk pushing its way onto his lips on its own accord. “Having both me and Jay inside of you, i’d make you feel so good.” 

He could feel your torso tense under his hold and so continued talking into your ears, his voice as compelling as a story told siren, “You wanted more, didn’t you? You’d feel so full, i’d be giving you everything you’ve ever longed for.” He made his point by pushing his palm against your lower stomach- right against the spot Jay’s cock was hitting inside of you. 

“He’s so big, right?” He cooed at you when you nodded your head, big tears staining your cheeks as his words fell through one ear and down to your needy cunt. “He’d feel so good against me, we’d stretch you out so good, make you feel things you’ve only ever dreamed about.”

Jay, having felt your tortuous clenches, was quick to get drawn to his high, his hips snapping up with a new vigor as he tried to chase his heavy weighted release. 

Heeseung noticed before you did, of course he did. He’d been watching the man since he’d first come through the door, it was only natural for his eyes to be watching his every reaction. 

“Or maybe we can have Jakey with me instead, hm? He’s not as long as Jay but he’s definitely thicker.” Liquid honey was practically pouring from Heeseung’s lips, the gold flowing across your skin until it reached its searing end along Jay’s thighs. 

“M’gonna fill you up, give you everything I have-” Jay was too far gone to realize what he was saying, but he meant every word. His hands replaced Heeseung’s after pushing the older man’s off, his hips pushing off the bed as he snapped into you as hard as possible. 

His head was empty but the thoughts still repeated out through his mouth, your seductive voice was the last thing he needed before completely filling you- “do it, fill me up.” 

Seeing Jay break beneath you was nothing compared to the feeling of him coming undone inside of you, and at this moment you couldn’t help but thank your ex. 

It was like a light switched inside of you, a newfound desire filling your entire body after seeing the way Sunghoon kept licking at the spot connecting you to Jay. His mouth was completely soaked with a combination of everything, the white ring along the bottom of Jays cock disappearing just as fast as it appeared. 

You grabbed Sunghoon’s hair, a shocked whimper leaving his mouth as you pulled him away. He was looking up at you so beautifully, the stars in his eyes and the wetness along his chin… he was irritably irresistible. and by the silence filling the room it seemed that everyone agreed.

“You just can’t get enough can you?” You used your own hand to nod his head at your question, his hair tight in your hold as you forced him to move at your will. You cooed at him before giving a small pout in response, your eyes still staring at his coated face. “You couldn’t help yourself, you just had to taste him didn’t you?”

Sunghoon didn’t answer, his mind too cloudy to comprehend anything being said. His eyes were barely open as he stared at you, his entire weight being pushed against Jay’s abdomen. 

His hands were pressed against the back of your thighs with his chest resting against jay, he was completely powerless. “How did he taste?” You knew he wouldn’t answer but you still asked with a slight hope that he’d give in, but as expected- he stayed silent. 

You repeat yourself louder this time as you tug his hair harsher against his scalp, he still remained silent as he allowed his head to move under your control. 

“He’s so dumb, he can’t even speak for himself.” Heeseung laughed against your neck before pushing his lips against your collarbones, yet his eyes remained on Sunghoon. 

You hummed in agreement before turning to Jake, your heart softening at the neglected boy across from you. “Poor puppy hasn’t gotten any attention yet here you are, a needy baby who can’t do anything but sit there in silence.” 

Jake visablly lightened up at your attention, his teeth slightly poking out from beneath his lips before he pushed closer to you, his head lightly knocking against yours whilst he nuzzled against you. 

You were still sitting on top of Jay’s sensitive cock, his cum still lodged in you. “Bad boy’s don’t deserve what I was going to give you.” Sunghoon finally came to his senses as he looked up at you in confusion, your eyes meeting for the second time tonight. 

“You were the closest to Sungchan, how could you do this to him?” You knew you weren’t the one to be talking, but you had more of a reason to betray him compared to Sunghoon. You got cheated on, but Sunghoon? You couldn’t think of a singular reason why he would turn his back on his childhood best friend just for a singular fuck.

“Why?” Sunghoon shook his head once before trying to respond but no words left his mouth, “what? Is your mouth suddenly dry?” Sunghoon shook his head in denial before snapping his lips closed and looking away once again, a heavy cloud of guilt replacing the dumb look in his eyes. 

“As I said earlier, bad boys don’t deserve it.” No one knew what the “it” that you were referring to was, not until you slowly pulled Jay from out of you, your fingers pushing against yourself as you tried to keep his release in. 

Still staring at Sunghoon’s avoidant figure you grabbed Jake’s wrist, your fingers wrapping around his hand as you pulled it down to replace your own. But before he could put his hand in place of yours, you stuck two fingers inside and scooped out as much of Jay’s cum you could while keeping some in. 

You used your hold on his hair to turn his head towards your hand, his mouth dropping open at the strings of cum connecting your two fingers. You pushed your fingers together before slowly pulling them apart knowing that all the boys were watching. 

“To think that this couldn’t been you…” Knowing that Sunghoon’s gaze was now following your fingers you rose it up to Jake’s mouth, your fingertips rubbing a bit of cum across his bottom lip before you pushed in between them. 

All eyes, including your own, watched as Jake took your fingers the way you’d taken Jay’s dick hours ago. 

Jake’s tongue swirled around your two digits, his eyes closing in focus as he attempted to clean your fingers the best he could. You could feel the vibrations of his mouth against your fingers, the feeling causing your need to grow more intense.

Before anyone could react, Sunghoon pulled your fingers from his mouth and replaced them with his mouth. His lips pushed against Jake’s with an animalistic desire, his tongue pushing between the other boys lips before Jake could even process the sudden kiss. 

Sunghoon ignored the sharp tingles from his scalp as he continued licking into the other boy's mouth, scooping the cum into his own mouth. It was supposed to be his anyways, so there was no reason why he wouldn’t be able to have it. It didn’t matter that he was eating it from another person's lips, maybe it tasted even better that way.

After sharing the cum between themselves Sunghoon pulled back with a devious smile, all guilt erased from his mind. Jake’s mind was still reeling from what had happened, his mind replaying the sight of their shared spit connecting their departing lips. 

“Sungchan would’ve have let you do this.” Sunghoon didn’t waste a second before kissing you, the taste of the other boys heavy on his tongue as it pushed it against yours. The taste was almost indescribable, hints of bitterness with the perfect amount of sweetness from whatever Sunghoon ate before coming to Jay’s. 

Sunghoon pulled off of you for a minute before using his hand to pull yours from his hair, his fingers entwining with yours as he messily stood up. His pants were off within seconds, and his back was against the bed just as fast.

He pulled you down on top of him, his hand letting go of yours to grip as your ass to help you grind down against him. His mouth met yours once again, his nose bumping against yours with each turn of his head, he was all too addicting. 

Heeseung tsked from above you, his disapproving gaze heavy on Sunghoon’s messy side profile. “You heard what she said earlier, you don’t deserve it.” Heeseung pulled you off of Sunghoon and back into his arms, your legs moving down to rest on top of Sunghoon’s flat knees. 

“Move.” Sunghoon’s pleading look barely worked on you, his expression changing into an annoyed one before he shot both boys beside you a glare. He didn’t say anything and just scooched over. 

Jake replaced his spot, but not before shooting Sunghoon a victorious wink. He made a whole show of fluffing his pillow before laying down, his hands moving to pull off his pants with a singular swipe. 

His walls came down the second you took over, your hands grabbing his shoulder as you lowered yourself down onto him. He was already hard from watching you earlier which lowered the prep time. 

Even though Jake was definitely wider than Jay, you still took him with ease. His cock gave you exactly what you needed yet you still wanted more. 

You didn’t have to voice out your desires because Heeseung was already tapping the head of his cock against you, his tip moving around to collect as much of your slick as he could. 

His hand moved from base to tip in a repeated motion, his fingers squeezing him in the manner that he was usually used to- but this time was different. He’d never fucked someone with another cock already pressed it, but that wasn’t to say that he hasn’t given it thought before.

He’s definitely thought about fucking you with one of his friends, way too many times that he’d like to admit. When you first came to him with the idea he would like to say that he was hesitant, but he wasn’t. The day you broke up with Sungchan was probably the best day of his life, well second best to today. 

He wanted to see if the real thing was as good as it was in his dreams. He already knew your pussy would be the best he’s ever felt but he's always known that- it wasn’t anything new. But this? This was all new. 

He knew you were ready after you looked back at him with a nod, your eyes sharing unspoken words before he began to push in. He knew the stretch would be rough and he fully attended to take his time to let you adjust to the new feeling. 

He rubs an encouraging hand along your back, his palm gently pushed you flatter against Jake’s chest as his other hand held his base.

Jake, seeing the way your body was reacting, wrapped both of his arms around your waist. The new addition made it easier for Heeseung to contort your body into the way he wanted, his hand moving from your back and up to your hips to pull you up higher. 

Even with the two boys comforting you, you still remained as tense as before. Heeseung knew it wouldn’t feel as good to you if you remained in that state so he tried his best to help loosen you up, “Relax, i’ve got you.” And it worked.

And after a few minutes of random thrusts both boys managed to find a shared rhythm, their normal stroke pattern differentiating from each other. 

All three of your bodies were shining in sweat, the heat from your bodies rubbing against each other making a force field of humidity- but it didn’t bother any of you too much. At least not enough to stop. 

You could feel the bed from beside you moving, Sunghoon growing angsty with his lack of attention. “As much as I love to watch this- I think I'm going to explode if I don't feel your touch in the next three seconds.”

You rolled your eyes at the dramatic boy beside you with your best attempt at a small smile. It was hard to show any reaction to him at all by the way the two men were pushing into you, your body was on fire and you could feel your pleasure everywhere. 

Jake ignored Sunghoon and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, his tongue alternating between swirling around it and rolling it between his teeth. He didn’t want to share you with Sunghoon, not if it had the chance to cost him your perfect little pussy. 

Your mouth dropped open in pleasure, moans breaking through your no longer closed lips. It was too much at once but yet it somehow managed to be too little as well, you still needed more. You came here to be ruined, to be destroyed beyond fixable. And with your mouth still working- you weren’t getting that. 

“Fuck my mouth.” Sunghoon didn’t waste a second before pushing up beside you, his thigh pressing against your shoulder before he tapped the tip of his cock against your bottom lip.

“Will you be able to take it? I don’t think you’ll be able to focus with the other two taking you like this.” Sunghoon managed to switch the rolls once again, his voice coming out doubtful with an underlying degrading tone. “Maybe we’ll see why Sungchan cheated on you.”

Striker. Sunghoon didn’t wait for your response before he pushed into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat right away. He ignored your gag and held himself there for a few seconds- enjoying the way you gagged and choked around him. “It doesn’t feel good, does it? To have something that was rightfully yours be taken away so easily?”

He didn't care about how you reacted to his words, his need to feel your tongue pressing against him overruling anything. “You can’t even take us all at once, poor Jay sitting back and watching you get dicked down by all his friends.”

Sunghoon pulled one of your hands from its position on Jake’s shoulder before holding your open palm out to Jay, “Make him feel good too.” 

Jay was heavy in your hand when you swirled your finger around his slit, his dick still sticky with his release. He wrapped both hands around your wrist as he fucked himself into your fist, his moans matching Sunghoon’s as they worked with your moving body. 

Sunghoon felt eyes staring at him and when he looked up he saw Heeseung’s heavy lidded eyes staring back at him, his reflection barely noticeable through his pupils. Sunghoon smirked at him once before nodding his head towards you, “better make her cum fast, Jay and I want our turn.”

Heeseung shook his head with a challenging smile, “nah, I think we’re gonna edge her a few times. I’m in no rush, I’ve got all night.”

Jay chucked from the side before chiming in, “Knowing your track record you’re definitely not going to last.” Jay was lying and they all knew it, yet it still struck a chord in Heeseung.

“You sure? Pretty sure our girl didn’t even cum whilst fucking you, did you?” Heeseung stared Jay in the eye whilst baby taking you, his hand rubbing your lower back in a fake comforting way. 

Heeseung’s hand moved lower, his hand now resting against your ass. He watched the way your ass bounced back against him and the way your skin jiggled each time your bodies made contact. He pressed down once more before raising his hand up before smacking it down against you, his eyebrow raising when he felt you clench down around them.

“You liked that?” He did it again just to check and once again, you clenched. “Of course she likes that.” Jake now chimed in from beneath you as soon as his lips left your tits, “she always has.”

All three other boys shared a confused look before asking for Jake to elaborate, “What? You think Sungchan was the first to meet her?”

[cattolino]

little bit of advice, take the dare.

pairing: bang chan x f!reader. warnings: profanities, implied exhibitionism, dirty truth or dare (more like dare or dare...), stripping, mild grinding, dirty talks. genre: implied rivals to lovers, implied smut. rating: mature. word count: 2.1k

“Let Chan strip two pieces of your clothing.”

These little bitches.

The innocence in Seungmin’s broad grin as he delivered aloud and clear what Minho had earlier whispered in his ear wasn’t able to deceit Chan the slightest in spite of it combined with that sparkly attentive puppy stare.

A foul scheme had been carefully arranged in those two cunning heads of theirs before they instigated this truth or dare game as soon as the majority of people returned home. Chan wasn’t oblivious of what he would get himself into the moment Minho escorted him from the drinking game in the back patio to a coffee table in the living room and begged him to join in the fun. Especially when you were one of the people centering around the table.

And so Chan was down for whatever challenges thrown his way no matter truth or dare it was that he ended up choosing. Wouldn’t really matter. Except now it was your turn, yet he was somehow involved in such a risque dare so early in the game.

Seungmin’s index finger pointed around the room twice, attracting the attention of the few people close enough to the table to see what he was up to, and he added, “or let anyone in the room. Your choice.”

As though he expected you would actually pick one of the sweaty and tipsy dimwits you barely knew of instead of Chan who you were certainly more familiar with. When, seriously, it was clear to Chan that both Seungmin and Minho wanted to prove him wrong— that the possibility of you romantically attracted to one another wasn’t even close to impossible despite the banter between the two of you sometimes getting out of hand.

The banter, Seungmin and Minho insisted, was a flirting attempt.

You leaned back onto the sofa behind you, crossing your arms with a stare of haughty disdain piercing through Seungmin and Minho’s who both seemed to be just as imperious.

“I was expecting a more daring one from you horny freaks,” your eyes then landed on Chan who was sitting across from you. Not looking away, your proud smile widened into a blithe grin, “this isn’t even his dare. But if he’s down, I don’t see why I have to back down.”

Chan stretched his arms and arched his back as a dramatic warmup before downing the remaining liquor in his red cup, earning supportive laughs from the excessively excited spectators around. “As long as you don’t back down if they involve you in my dares later.”

Getting up from the floor, you rounded the table and stood before him. You mirrored the smug grin that stretched across his face as he peered up at you, “pants and sweater then, gentleman.”

Despite the profuse tease that gleamed in your irises, Chan didn’t entertain you with even a slight wavering in the way he looked back up at you. Instead, taunting you with a faux innocent tilt of his head as his firm yet tender fingers began to toy with the button of your jeans.

The waistband of your black panties as if emerged once he slid down the zipper. He wasn’t sure if your hand placement on the crown of his head was unintended, but then your lips tilted up into a smile and your brow arched challengingly as your fingers ran through the soft tresses of his brown curls.

Encouraged, he lifted the hem of your sweater, exposing just enough of your bare stomach. His other palm smothered around your waist and landed on the small of your back, drawing you closer until his lips accidentally brushed against the bare skin of your stomach.

Chan’s hearts didn’t leap at his own sly, dirty initiation.

It didn’t. Definitely not.

Perhaps one could cut the air with a knife as the tension between you two was thickening the longer he took his time sliding the pants off your waist and the tighter you had his hair gripped in your palm. But everyone else was too preoccupied with keeping track of his veiny hands lingering around the waistband of your jeans, tugging down the denims at an intentionally slow pace.

In one glance, nothing of your true emotions was shown through your perfunctory facade. But Chan was practically on his knees, hands on you, and there was less than two inches gap between his lips and your stomach. Anything changed from your stance, he could easily catch it.

So when he felt you tensed up when he tantalized you by skimming his palm down the side of your thigh as the other pulled the jeans down to pool around your ankles, he had to fight back the triumphant grin he felt was close to spread on his face.

Once the pants were tossed somewhere on the floor, Chan got up on his feet as you held your arms up for him to take your knitted sweater off over your head.

His eyes peered down at where the bare skin of your stomach was supposed to be on full display as he pulled the hem of your sweater up. The underband of your bralette was slowly showing the higher the hem of your sweater was lifted.

He drew closer, lips lingered on your ear, chuckling and murmuring out of everyone’s earshot, “should’ve made you rid of three garments instead of two. What a shame.”

You ran your palms down along his torso as soon as your sweater was off your upper half, and you leaned in to whisper in his ear where nobody else could hear, too. “Next time it’s your turn, I’ll make you stand on the porch naked.”

Shameless gasps of “oh fuck” was heard from around you as you casually sat down with only high cut panties and black bralette. Chan could easily relate. He found himself checking you out when you weren’t looking.

He was grateful of the sudden rough smack on his thigh that brought him back to his senses. He looked to his left where the hand was from and Minho shot him a knowing look before leaning over to mutter, “you fucking pervert.”

He chuckled. Perhaps he was.

“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!” Felix chippered lovely squeaks and giggles as he bounced up and down on the carpeted floor in anticipation. More because the game had progressed into all the more obscene to earlier than he had expected. Don’t be fooled by such an irradiant, angelic face.

Chan just had to dissolve into laughter and squeaks and giggles when the bottle cap once again pointed in your direction. Twice in a row, it was. He threw his head back laughing when your jaw plunged into the ground in disbelief and eyes narrowed into slits in spite, feeling betrayed— by the bottle.

“Sit on Chan’s lap.” Jeongin smugly declared before anyone could even think of something potent to embarrass yourself, effectively shutting down the jeers and laughter as they contemplated.

You shrugged, once again rounding the table to where Chan was perched on the floor and nonchalantly settled your ass on his lap before he could protest.

Chan, on the other hand, grasped either side of your waist tightly and tried to prevent you from dwelling on that particular spot. But you persisted on reclining your back onto his chest, shoving your ass further down to where Chan could feel himself twitch.

“Fuck you.” He cursed against your neck when you slightly wiggled your lower half.

“Quit being a jerk,” you whispered back with a chuckle, but tone laced with genuine threat, “or I’ll make you wet your pants. Literally.”

Not even thirty minutes into the game that everyone around the table was a little tipsy with signs of either misery and happiness written on their faces.

With five people being out of the circle and off to the back patio for a lot more lame drinking  game with other football players, the remaining nine still held out in place to seek revenge.

Minho had tasted his own medicine as he was left with only briefs around his waist but not that he was unhappy about it as he’d gotten to proudly present his hard-earned well built body when you had Jisung leave three hickeys on his shoulders and two on his inner thigh. Jisung had solid yellow face paint all over his face, exactly resembling Looney Tunes’ Tweety.

Hyunjin was sprawled on the floor with occasional dramatic huffs and groans after he’d called his problematic ex and told him he’d been missing him. Changbin and Felix were disgustingly glued to one another after the older prolonged the supposedly five-second kiss. Seungmin had collected lipstick marks around his neck from ten people. Jeongin almost passed out from seven slices of pizza he’d had to finish before Seungmin returned.

And Chan was about to get his second turn after the top of the bottle pointed at him and you, who was still very much comfortably perched on his lap.

“Dare.” He didn’t even hesitate, calm and confident.

Not even when Minho slightly shoved himself forward to gain everyone’s attention. A little lift at the corner of his lips didn’t go unnoticed and for some reason, Chan was even anticipating what the little bitch had to say now.

“Are people still doing seven minutes in heaven?” Minho blurted, making Felix perk up instantly.

Hyunjin abruptly ended his dramatic disintegration and sat down with a gasp. “Oh my god,” he started, “I did it a year ago at a frat party with a guy except we weren’t allowed to say anything. Not a single fucking sound ‘cause one of them was sitting in the front of the door and if they heard even a small bit of me moaning, we’d have to walk to class the next day with extremely short fucking miniskirt. Imagine such suffering I had to bear while a hot guy blew me. He was great though.”

Wonder-stricken looks were instead what the taller got from everyone in the room. Minho was especially beaming at the deliberate suggestion and against his better judgement, his eyes landed on Chan whose chin rested on your shoulder. The older raised a brow in amusement when catching him staring, already seeing through the younger’s impish smirk.

Seungmin turned towards Minho, “I vote for what exactly Hyunjin did.”

Minho chuckled, “slow down, my guy. Our Channie doesn’t have to get someone suck him off. He can do whatever he pleases behind the door. But not. A single. Fucking. Sound.” He firmly suggested as he looked Chan dead in the eye. Insisted, even, perhaps, “or Changbin would love to lend his sister’s pink tutu.”

While Chan’s expression was hard to read, the rest seemed to be pleased. Excited, even.

You straightforwardly approved of Minho’s suggestion, ripping through the sound of supportive cheers from the others with an excited squeak after taking a sip of cheap beer from your cup, “I volunteer to sit at the door.”

Chan snorted behind you, “who says you’re not coming with me?”

A noisy commotion of “ooooohhh” and dramatic “aaaaahhh” immediately collided with the blaring EDM played in the background.

He’d thought you would never run out of snide remarks to shoot back at him at a time like this. So when you choked on your drink at his candidness, he couldn’t hold back a laugh.

Felix unattached himself from Changbin’s arm, hands flailing before his own face as he grinned so brightly that the dim room no longer seemed to be as dim as it was supposed to be. Once again, don’t be fooled by such an irradiant, angelic face. “Okay, look. You got seven minutes. Choose your person. No sounds allowed. We’ll set the timer once the door’s shut.”

“That room’s empty.” Changbin added with a snicker, nodding at the door to his roommate’s room, “he’s gone for two weeks. Just don’t make a mess.”

If Chan was surprised at how he managed to manhandle you and somehow scoop you up as he got on his feet, it didn’t show on his face. You securely wrapped yourself around his upper half, a long list of filthiest profanity was at the tip of your tongue at the sudden, unannounced move.

Chan blinked. Not breaking eye contact, his tongue brushed over the upper row of his pearly teeth before those sank in his lower lip. There might be a lack of reaction shown on your face as you seemed to be still as annoyed, but the faint pinkish tint that stained your cheeks had said so much already.

He glanced over to Changbin, nodding, “worry not. I’ll swallow everything y/n has to give me.”

“You better,” your irritated stare tapered off into that of a challenging glare injecting venom straight into his dimpled grin, “or I’ll make you wear the tutu.”

[ilylovelyz]

more sakusa work please! *fluff, smut, or angst*

⍣ ೋ going dumb

˚ · . sakusa kiyoomi x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, groping, both characters are 20 and in college

you have sakusa in a chokehold.

before you, sakusa rolled his eyes whenever he saw couples showing obnoxious amounts of PDA. it was almost disgusting to him. kissing in public? on a dirty public train? how gross.

during the first few months of dating you, he began to come around the thought of PDA. he didn't mind holding your hand, as long as it wasn't around his teammates. a little kiss on the cheek wouldn't hurt either.

now, a year has passed since dating you. sakusa definitely knows that his views on relationships have changed. he still won't make out with you in public, or grope your ass in front of randoms, though.

the most major change? a particular night, he lost his virginity to you. similarly, you lost yours to him. before, he cringed at the thought of sex. sharing bodily fluids with one another, oral sex, especially oral sex just seemed wrong to him.

but boy, did that change after that first passionate night he spent with you.

sakusa's hands groped your breasts through the pink sweater you had on. a content sigh left your mouth as he bent you over the bathroom sink, his hand coming down to pull up your white skirt, attempting to find it's way through your seemingly endless long skirt to your sex.

"omi.. here..?" you giggle out, hand gripping at the glass of the bathroom. your other hand comes to reach backwards to play with your boyfriend's curly strands, lightly tugging on the ends. a low growl escapes from his throat, "whats wrong with it? are you uncomfortable?" he asks, kissing the soft skin at your neck.

"n-no, it's just i thought you were against sex in places like this." you say. it was indeed a random place. it was the public female bathroom of the university you both attended. if it weren't for you locking the bathroom door, someone would've probably walked in already.

before you could tease him for his horniness, his fingers caressed your sensitive folds, dipping them deeper to find your clenching hole. he doesn't even respond to you, too busy on making more lewd noises escape from that pretty mouth of yours from the touch of his fingers.

he groans anxiously, finally giving into temptation. his hand pulls away from your heat, waiting patiently as you hear his belt unbuckle and the sounds of him shuffling down his pants.

he bends you further over the sink, his cheeks flushing deeply. he avoids looking at the mirror reflecting the two of you, avoiding making eye contact with you. "i.. i can't wait." he says shyly, almost an entirely different character from his usual stoic and organized self.

the two of you moan in sync when he pushes his cock inside you. without wasting a second, he's already pushing and pulling his hips in and out of your cunt. all of his former resolve is gone, shattered and discarded with the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around his cock.

his hands firmly stay at your hips, helping you meet his own hips. yes, this place is completely random. it's a bathroom. a bathroom that is probably cleaned improperly and rarely. it smells of strong alcohol and faux blueberries, probably from other students vaping in here.

maybe that's why he's so close to emptying his load in you. maybe it's because of the lewdness, the tabooness, the dirtiness of the two of you, fucking like two hormonal teenages once more. it's as if he's loosing his virginity for the first time to you once more, the feeling completely new and addictive.

maybe you're the issue. yes, you have to be. so seducing and tempting to have. you turned him into a moraless man, into some horny teenager.

"o-oh, fuck, i'm gunna cum," he groans out. he blushes even more when realizes what he's even saying. he's cursing profanities he rarely uses, moaning and groaning like a virgin.

it doesn't help when you clamp around him so tightly, your strong orgasm causing your tongue to loll out so vulgarly from your mouth. sakusa sees it all in the foggy, hand-printed dirty mirror.

he doesn't know what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all, but something in him snaps and he's giving you his fertile load into your pussy, his hips pathetically humping your ass like a dog in heat. he's cumming inside of you, something he never thought he would ever do in his life. he thought doing that so young was such a life-ender, the possibility of getting pregnant young could completely change his life.

and yet, the thought of his seed inside of you has his head spinning so fast it leaves him almost breathless.

"one more time." he mumbles, slowly rocking his hip back and forth once more, fucking his cum further into you.

please leave a like and reblog if you enjoyed!!

[hqbaby]

seven — i have a secret

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2k content. profanity, FEELINGS FEELINGS FEELINGS

You met Satoru by chance. Or at least that was what you thought until he confessed three months into your relationship that he’d devised the whole thing.

“You’re not serious,” you said, gaping at your boyfriend. “You couldn’t have planned that.”

The two of you were sitting in his car, seats reclined backwards as you shared a bag of fries and passed a milkshake between one another. The speakers were blaring a hodgepodge playlist the two of you had made, one you’d both added all your favorite songs to with no rhyme or reason that resulted in an eccentric mix of ‘90s rock, rap, and—courtesy of Satoru—Britney Spears’ entire discography.

Things were so much simpler then. Better.

“I planned it all!” he told you, laughing as you continued to stare at him in bewilderment. “I had a massive crush on you, what else was I supposed to do?”

“I dunno,” you gestured frantically, “maybe talk to me like a normal person?”

He snorted. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“You wouldn’t have given me the time of day!”

You gasped in faux shock. “I totally would’ve!”

He pointed the fry he was holding at you in wild accusation. “You turned down everyone who asked you out,” he said, all matter-of-factly. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, princess.”

You shook your head, grinning now as your boyfriend stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth. He’s such a boy, you thought.

“Let me get this straight,” you said as you sat up, placing your hands on your lap. “You took a class that isn’t even in your curriculum, purposely bumped into me after a game, proceeded to tutor me for a whole month just to ask me out?”

He shrugged, beaming proudly at his apparent job well-done. “What can I say? I’m a mastermind.”

You tossed a fry at him as you laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I believe ‘amazing’ is the right term,” he said, sitting up now too. He leaned in towards you and brushed a strand of hair from your eye. Quietly, he added, “And you were totally worth it.”

His lips met yours and you swore that if you died right then and there, you’d have died happy.

What a shame it all had to end.

Your neighborhood is safe. Well, that’s what you tell yourself when you go rogue—against all of Maki and Nobara’s insistence and all your empty promises—and decide to go on a run in the dead of night.

You don’t usually take this kind of risk, resorting to early morning jogs before class or training, but you couldn’t sleep anyway and the tournament is coming up soon. You’ve never been one to half-ass anything, so you have no intentions of half-assing this. Safety be damned. You’ll run if you want to run.

The streets are still as you make your way around the block. You circle the park, the cluster of houses, the apartment buildings. There’s a convenience store that’s still open—you wonder what it’s like to work there, to tend to an empty shop. Maybe it isn’t so bad a life. Maybe you wouldn’t mind winding down in your old age and owning a 24/7 convenience store. Maybe you’ll have grandchildren by then, but that would require children and you don’t necessarily want to think about that just yet.

You distract yourself with the different sights, the mindless thoughts, the grocery list of things you need to buy the next day—anything to not think about the fact that you’re absolutely exhausted and could pass out at any point in your run.

You haven’t slept much since that brief reprieve afforded by Sukuna’s company a few days ago. You’ve gone to classes, dutifully attended meetings for your organizations, religiously beat your body into perfection in training. At this point, you’re just running on auto-pilot.

You wonder when this will ever end.

You circle back to the convenience store and your foot—so tired, so susceptible to minor inconveniences now—catches on a stone on the ground. At least you have enough foresight to land your ass.

It’s then that everything crashes down on you. You can do nothing now but sit on the ground and wearily massage your legs as you wait for the last bit of strength to return to you, just enough to make you get up and walk home. You just sit there, on the pavement of a dark street, fully aware that it’s probably not a good idea but also fully aware that you don’t have it in yourself to care.

You pull your phone out of your pocket. There’s a text from Maki asking if you placed the orders for the shirts you’re selling at the children’s rights fundraiser. Right. You forgot to do that. There’s a text from Kento asking if you have notes from that one class the two of you share. An email from Yuki with the details of the tournament. A meme from Sukuna, an image of a clown with the accompanying message “u.”

Then there’s the text you’ve been avoiding.

satoru <3 : can we talk sometime?

You should really change his contact name.

And it’s like the universe hears you. You don’t know if you’ve ever fully bought into the whole “the universe is listening” thing, but you might just become a full-fledged believer, because as soon as you look up from your phone, you find a figure walking through the shadows towards you.

A random straggler maybe? A murder with an axe? One of those zombies that keep chasing you in your dreams?

You know who it is as soon as the first bit of light from the dying street lamp hits his hair.

Satoru.

He’s walking with his hands in his pockets, head hung low like he’s tired or thinking or both. It takes him a while to even register your presence. It’s only after you put your phone away that he looks up, alerted by the slight movement.

His eyes meet yours. Blue piercing straight into you, like he can see your thoughts. Like he can read your mind. You always suspected he could.

“Hi,” he says.

He’s standing a few feet away from you, close enough to take in your weakened form but far enough to run away if you decide to lunge forward and strangle him for whatever reason.

You lift your hand, a tiny wave. “Hey.”

His eyes scan your body, already checking to see what’s happened. He notices your legs spread out on the pavement, the bags under your eyes. You look okay, though, he thinks. Not in any immediate distress.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. His voice is unsure, afraid of entering the realm of familiarity, uncertain if you want him there.

You shrug, “Oh, you know. Just seeing the sights.”

He nods. “Right.”

“You wanna sit with me?”

The question isn’t so much said as it just flies out of you. A natural thing, to pose this question. Akin to asking about the weather, akin to how you used to tell him you loved him. Exactly what was expected, exactly what it should have been.

His answer is just as expected too. “Sure.”

Satoru steps closer and crouches down to sit in front of you. He sits cross-legged, placing his hands on his knees as he looks around hesitantly.

“It’s really late,” he says.

“I know.”

“It gets dodgy here at night.”

“I know.”

“You shouldn’t be out by yourself.”

You crack a smile at that. “I’m not alone now, am I?”

Satoru looks at you incredulously before smiling too. “Maki is so gonna kill you if she hears about this.”

“Then don’t fucking snitch,” you warn him. Your words are harsh, but your tone is light. Easy. “I’m already in hot water with her.”

“What did you do?” he asks. He relaxes a little, placing his hands behind him and leaning back. “Did you lose her sweater again?”

You roll your eyes. “That was one time.”

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head. “I remember at least four times you came to me all panicked because you didn’t know where it was.”

“To be fair, half of those times I was just looking for an excuse to talk to you.”

He raises a brow. “You’re kidding.”

“Not,” you tell him. “You’re not the only one who made shit up to talk to their crush.”

The two of you laugh, remembering that horrifying period of time before you got together and routinely embarrassed yourselves for one another. 

You know this whole thing, laughing on the street with the boy you broke up with less than a month ago, should feel wrong, at the very least awkward. But it doesn’t. When you look at Satoru, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles, you can’t help but remember just how much he meant to you. Maybe just how much he’ll always mean to you.

Satoru shuffles closer and says in a low conspiratorial tone, “I have a secret.”

You pretend to look around, check to see if anyone is listening. Then, you ask him, “What?”

He moves closer until his face is just inches away from yours. And he says the words you already knew he was going to say.

“I miss you.”

You let out a breath.

“I miss you too.”

You both lean forward, close enough to feel his breath on your lips, but not enough to touch his. His hand reaches for yours and squeezes it, holds it to his chest. There’s comfort to his touch, a familiar warmth. One that you’ve loved for a while now.

“‘Toru,” you say quietly.

“Yeah?”

You wonder if he can hear your heart pounding through your chest. You suspect that you can hear his.

“We can’t do this.”

His eyes flicker to your lips. You can almost read his mind. Why can’t we?

But he pulls back and so do you. He lets go of your hand, nodding as he takes his warmth away with him. There’s disappointment in his expression, but also a deep understanding. A deep knowledge that this isn’t right. You can’t do this.

You wring your hands and turn your gaze to a receipt on the ground. It lists a very specific assortment of things: a pack of cigarettes, a bottle of water, some lube, and a teddy bear. It must be Valentine’s Day somewhere.

“You’re good, right?” you find yourself asking. “With… Kimi.”

Satoru hums. He’s avoiding your eyes too, lost his footing in this whole interaction just like you. “Yeah, we’re good,” he says, words leaving a pit in your stomach that you try to ignore. “And you’re good with him?”

There’s a venom in the way he says the last word. As if he means to say, you’re good with him—him of all people. The scourge of the earth, that’s probably all Satoru can think about when he even considers the idea of Sukuna.

You nod. “We’re good too.”

Satoru’s eyes search yours and you do your best to hide the fact that you’re lying. You already know what he wants to see. He wants to see that you’re miserable without him.

That you made a mistake.

He doesn’t find what he’s looking for, so he just clears his throat, looks away, and says, “Good.”

You pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around them. Suddenly, this whole thing feels like the kind of wrong it always was.

“You should go,” you say.

Satoru shakes his head, standing up and dragging you up with him. “I’m taking you home.”

“Satoru, it’s fine—”

But he won’t hear it. He’s already holding your hand and pulling you in the direction of your apartment building. As much as you want to, you don’t necessarily have the strength to argue with him, so you let him lead the way, one painful step after another.

When you get to the front of the building, Satoru drops your hand and motions for you to head inside. “Get some sleep.”

You turn to the door, then you hesitate, looking back at him. “Satoru.”

“Yeah?” His voice is soft, like he’s worried it might scare you away.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

His eyes widen just a bit as he tilts his head. “For what?”

You swallow. “For everything.”

You don’t expect him to smile, but he does. It’s all gentle and sweet. It’s exactly the way he’s always looked at you. The way he probably always will.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, princess,” he says. “It’s just the way things are.”

notes. if there’s one thing i know about me when i’m writing my love triangle fics, it’s that i refuse to let either side go down without a fight 😌

ALSO FINAL REMINDER THAT THIS SERIES HAS SMUT, so minors sincerely fuck off please, i'm not responsible for what you consume online.

[mitskicain]

navi | m.list

. ⁺ . ✦ the doghouse — ken sato x reader

© mitskicain all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

synopsis: you head home from last night’s escapade only for him to come knocking on your door..

content warning: innuendos, suggestive, cursing and profanity

word count: 2k

· · ─────── ·{ ✐ᝰ.ᐟ}· ─────── · ·

002: bird in teeth

The aftermath of that night left the both of you, passed out in the tangle of each other’s bodies. It was hard to slip out of his grasp and when you awoke just before sunrise—his grip around your waist still tight even deep in slumber. As you picked up your clothes that were thrown carelessly on the floor, you looked back and smiled at the sleeping figure, face exhausted but basically beaming with that post-sex glow. God if it were real, you would light up like a goddamn generator. Either way, you smiled, silently thanked him for the night, lifted some cash out his wallet and were on your way.

You heard someone say something about how with one night stands, you always leave something behind—an eyelash, a shirt, your dignity at the door. The general idea was that you’d lose something every single time, thus the notion that you shouldn’t engage in these kind of activities, the idea to you always seemed so ridiculous. Sure, maybe you lost a little bit of self-respect every time you did, giving parts of yourself away like that, but you’d always take something in return. Sometimes you’d take something small and insignificant as a memento: a decorative teaspoon, a comic book, a little trinket—sometimes cash, for the cab ride back home, you’d reason (you took the train).

And in the early morning commute back: so many other women and men that shared the same look of exhaustion, sometimes contentment, more often shame—took the 5AM train with you, all doing the walk of shame. You never agreed with that phrase, somehow found it patronizing and demeaning, or maybe you just felt it didn’t apply to you. The ride back was always so refreshing. You felt reborn, energized—like a succubus after claiming a soul. This was your life, and that's how you would spend your nights, so you could spend your mornings like this: skimping through the half-empty streets in last night’s clothes and ruined makeup with a bit more pep in your step. Hell, sometimes you even skipped all the way back.

It was Sunday morning: the bar you worked at closed on Mondays and would only reopen Tuesday night, so you had a whole faux weekend to sleep away. You passed by the church on the way back and lingered slightly, watching the crowds and families clamor out. I wouldn’t be welcome there, you thought to yourself. They wouldn’t want a sinner like me. Somehow it reminded you of your family back home, in their Sunday best, rushing to get from church towards iHop. That was you guys’ tradition. At the sight of the memory, you felt something inside of you twist and churn. You brushed off the feeling and showed it somewhere deep inside of you, where it wouldn’t threaten to resurface, and continued the walk back home.

When you turned the key towards your apartment, your dogs, Lassie and Strauber greeted you by the door, jumping up at you excitedly. You patted them affectionately and opened the backdoor for them to go run around in the tiny balcony yard. You huffed out contently, watching them run circles and chase each other within the space; you grew up with dogs, can’t imagine a life where you didn’t have some sort of trustworthy companion that would stick with you through thick and thin. When you moved from the country to the big city; your dogs, a tiny suitcase, and the beat up truck were all you took. They stuck their heads out the window, panting and eyes wide—looked back at you, excited for the new life that was to come for them.

The ceiling fan spun circles above you, now sprawled out on the couch. Summers in Tokyo were hot, but you also couldn’t exactly afford the electric bill if you blasted the AC on. At least work had good air conditioning. For now, you just had to figure out a way to beat the heat until you could clock in again. You sighed and put your arm over your eyes, blocking out the sun’s glares, and slowly drifted off to sleep—trying to make up for the lack thereof from last night. You dreamt vaguely of the grass behind your grandfather’s farm, long and thick, billowing in the wind. You, Lassie, and Strauber ran up hills and picked fruit from the trees to enjoy. You napped underneath the huge cherry vines with its flowers perfuming the breeze. The countryside was boring, but it was home. Sometimes you wondered if leaving was the right thing to have done.

Your daydreaming was cut short by an abrupt knock on the door. Getting up and still drowsy from sleep, you didn’t think about looking out the peephole before opening the door to tell off whoever decided to come bother you.

“What do you want?” You bark at the figure in front of you. Only when your eyes adjust to the light do you realize who you’re talking to. You step back a little, alarmed to see him again so soon.

“Hi,” Ken smiles sheepishly through the half open door, “can I come in?”

“What the hell,” you say, a feeling of unease coursing through your body, “how did you get here- how.. how did you find out where I lived?”

He holds up your day planner, covered in stickers, sharpie doodles, and jangling keychains—it held your work card and a small sum of cash too. It must’ve slipped out of your pocket and into some crevice somewhere when he tore off your clothes last night. You scowl at the memory, impressed by your bad luck. Sighing, you unlock the chain and let him in. Lassie and Strauber barked from behind the yard’s screen door, and he jumps a little at the noise.

“You’ve got dogs?”

“No, I don’t—you must be imagining things,” you reply, a little annoyed by the question (and his presence). You didn’t like seeing the men you slept with again, they always found ways to make things weird and awkward.

Ken shoots his hands up in surrender, sensing your hostility.

“What do you want?” You ask again, sitting down the couch, opening up your day planner to figure out what other information he could've gotten. Phone number? Email? Bank account?

“I didn’t take your money,” he comments, you shoot him a look. “Unlike someone here.”

“Hey!” You answer defensively, “it was for a cab, alright? I deserve to be able to get back safely.”

“Cab, sureee,” he draws out his words, his voice carrying a playful lilt, “400 bucks for a cab?”

“It’s a long way from your place to mine,” you cross your arms over your chest, “also you ruined my underwear, I was claiming compensation.”

“What? That little thing?” He laughs, throwing his head back and wrapping his arms over his waist. “Honey, it’s not my fault that fragile little string broke—I wouldn’t expect it to hold up.”

You feel the heat creep up to your cheeks at the mention of last night again. You weren’t the same kind of person in the daylight—easily flustered and more bashful. It was like you had two different personalities living in you, constantly wrestling for control. Maybe your ex was right.

You shake your head and snap out of your internal monologue, trying to regain ground in the conversation.

“Don’t call me honey,” you sneer.

He holds up his hands in surrender again. “Sorry ma’am.”

You roll your eyes.

“Look, thank you for coming all the way to give me my day planner back. It was a- uhm, very generous gesture, but if you will, I have other things to tend to.” You escort him out of your living room and into the hall, motioning for him to leave.

Yeah, other things to tend to do. Like sleeping the entire faux weekend away, and blowing the 400 bucks you lifted on some Indian takeout. Mutton curry sounds so good right now.

You push him out the door, and wait for him to leave, but he just stands there, unmoving. Your eyebrows furrow in frustration and you pinch the bridge of your nose. What was wrong with this guy? You swear he was nothing like the person you had met last night.

“Hello? Earth to Ken? Is that it?” You ask, waving a hand in front of his face. He stands, dumbfounded, eyes wide. After a moment, he finally speaks.

“God, you’re gorgeous in the daylight.”

You’re caught by surprise by this statement, because: one, it’s Ken Sato, famous baseball player saying this to you, but also, two, you thought that it was just something he said under the stench of lust last night. Something people say just to get others to sleep with them. Like I love you or you’re so funny or whatever. You feel your cheeks redden again at his words, and he breaks out into a smile at the sight of this.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he says, “where’ve you been all along? I missed you.”

God.

“Stop,” you look away, embarrassed, hand covering the lower half of your face. “I don’t see my one night stands again, it always turns out messy.”

“One night stand?” He says, face twisting into an expression of amusement. “Well, honey, I’m more than just a one night stand.”

You cringe. “Don’t call me honey.”

Another look of surrender.

“I’m just saying,” a cocky smile stretches across his lips, “it doesn’t have to be that way.”

You shake your head, incredulous.

“Yeah, no way,” you reply, closing the door. He lunges forward and curls his fingers by the edge, fighting back.

“One date,” he says, trying to keep the gap open, “one date and if you don’t like me then I’ll back off.”

“I’m not in the mood to get dressed up and go out.” You say, straining with all your might.

“That’s fine! Then I’ll just come over to your place,” he heaves, “I’ll bring food.”

You’re leaning against the entire door frame, feet slipping from the sheer force of him, but it’s no use—he wins, the door stands wide open.

“Please?” He begs. Your head drops at the sight of him, cursing yourself for getting involved with him in the first place. You should have been more careful, should have picked another guy. Someone that was one and done and you could sweep under the carpet—not someone who would show up to your doorstep and beg for a date.

“Fine,” you sigh, feeling as if arguing was useless. “One date, that’s all you get—and then you fuck off.”

“Yes!” He cheers, fist up in the air like a child celebrating a soccer goal. “I’ll see you tonight at 8!”

You slam the door in his face, eager to get him out. Through the wall, you can still hear his excited whoops. You walk over to the yard and let Lassie and Strauber back in, the both of them making a beeline towards the entrance to sniff out the scent of the man that had just left. Once satisfied, they headed over to your figure on the couch, sprawled in the same position that you were before he came, rudely interrupting your nap. You reached down to comb your fingers through Lassie’s soft fur, long locks of reddish hair, smooth as silk. The dogs yawn and let out a little high pitched sigh.

“I know girl,” you coo, patting the two of them, “just bear with me. It’s just for tonight. Just tonight and then the weird man will leave us alone.”

Weird, you thought. Things had such a way of turning around and rearing its ugly head. When was the last time you had a date? Like a proper one that wasn’t just a precursor to sex? You rake through your memories of the previous months and find all the details meshed together, faces and voices of people blurring into one another. You’d lost track of how many people you used, or how long this kind of thing had been going on for. Deep down you knew it was self destructive, but maybe that was also the point.

I should quit, you thought to yourself, throwing your arm over your eyes again, trying to escape into sleep.

But you tell yourself that same lie every time. You always say you’d quit but you never did.

prev | next

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author’s note: guys I’m so sorry for the delay 😭😭 I’ve just been released from the jaws of hell (uni) and I’ve kind of went ham enjoying my newfound freedom (finally being able to get 8 hours of sleep) also tumblr was being weird like I couldn’t reply to comments or check my messages it sucked bUT ANYWAYS WE’RE BACK SO EXPECT MORE UPDATES SOON 🫵‼️‼️💥💥💥 as always, thank you so much for supporting my work! I hope you guys continue to enjoy what I put out here 🥰🥰👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

taglist: @luneariaa @moonjellyfishie @sweetcheeksbby @shittingonyourgrave @shauu @witcwitchy @fcklxnaa @despacito-uwu16 @mqshido @miffysoo @ybbayk @hore4ken @mochminnie @femmefqtqle @miratastic @lovingyeet @mythicalmo @yourfellowmarzipan @softdumplingposts

[hyunsvngs]

playing with spiderhan’s hole for the event??? 😓🙏🙏

wc: 0.8k

sw: anal fingering (m rec), rimming (m rec), dirty talk, degradation, interesting forms of bondage, sub!hannie, dom!reader

a/n: my first drabble as part of my event and a sweet little tidbit for captain save-a-hoe (my spiderhan fic!!) pls enjoy <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“stay still, hannie.”

“baby- baby, i can’t move anyway, look what you had me do!” jisung’s huffing and puffing at you, but it was also wholly his idea. he was the one who’d got the bee in his bonnet about stringing his own legs up to the bed so that you can have your way with him, but still, that doesn’t mean he’s not going to be dramatic about it when it actually happens.

it’s not as if he can’t get out of it. you know he’s strong enough, he knows he’s strong enough - he just knows he loves being tortured even more. jisung lays face down on his bed, fully naked with his messy hair obscuring part of his smushed face where it rests in his pillow. you’re just glad his aunt isn’t home.

you snicker at his theatrics, and then you’re leaning over to hook one lubed up thumb into the pucker of his asshole. he squeals, foot kicking out, but its movement is prevented by the webs attaching him to the bottom bedpost. “you’re still trying to move. god, would you just lay there and take it?”

you know it’s a low blow, talking down to him like that - nothing gets him harder. it works, too. he hiccups, nodding, knees frantically shuffling to get him in a better position. his legs spread from the movement, hard erection hanging down between two lithe thighs. you have to bury a finger all the way inside of him to the knuckle as a reward for the sight. “ah! oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, baby, more, moremoremore!”

“i’ll give you more, jisungie, just stay still for me,” your voice is calm, steady, and jisung nods with a sigh into the pillow. you curl your finger inside of him, his hole still tight despite the plug you’d pushed inside of him earlier, and he keens so prettily you think he might be crying. it’s the chaste kiss you press against his asscheek that has his muscles relaxing, and then you swipe your tongue over his balls as you push a second finger inside.

“what the ffff- jagi, baby-” jisung squeals, ass pushing back against you. when you pull your mouth back from his balls, you swipe your tongue over the area where your fingers meet his rim, and he really does let out a wet sob this time. you know he could free himself from his restraints if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, hands scrabbling to grip the pillow next to his head. you swipe your tongue over his rim a few more times, and by the time you’ve picked up a decent pace, he’s babbling freely. “hah, that’s- that’s s’good, s’good, my baby! you’re doing so well, please make me cum!”

when you pull away, you curl your fingers inside of him, pushing and prodding inside his walls. you know he can cum from this, and jisung arches his back to help you hit his prostate. he almost shoots off the bed when you finally reach it, if not for the way his legs are strapped down, and a long string of profanities leave his mouth. his cock has started leaking now, a thick, viscous string of precum that attaches him to his anime bedsheets beneath him.

“hmm, i don’t know. should i make you cum like this or let you cum inside me later?”

“b-both?! both! i can- i can do both, oh my god, jagiya, please-”

“god, really?” you start, and he gives you the sweetest, most faux timid nod. you shift your wrist slightly, and your fingers hit his prostate dead on this time. from what you can see, his face screws up from the constant stimulation the angle change gives him, eyebrows furrowed and sweet rosebud lips parted. you curl your fingers inside of him, rub rub rubbing until you’re satisfied with how wet his fat cock is. “wanting to cum twice is a pretty slutty move, y’know. are you a slut, jisungie?”

jisung tenses, breath hitching. you think you’ve overstepped it, gone too far somehow, but then his body shakes and he’s spilling onto the sheets below him. it keeps spilling out the more you rub over his prostate, efficient in drawing out his high, and the puddle that’s left on the sheets is almost pathetic for an untouched orgasm.

when your fingers slide out, his whole body slumps, and you curl around him. with a huff, he pulls his legs free and spins towards you, head burying in your tits. you’re still in your clothes, panties sodden from your arousal, but you know he’ll make it up to you when you let him come round.

you wait until he’s let out that signature post-sex giggle before you speak. “so, slut, huh?”

jisung blushes, crimson set high on round cheeks, but the earnest eyes he gives you are enough to tell you what he’s thinking. still, he has to babble. “that was so sexy, baby! i didn’t know you had it in you?! god, just thinking about it is getting me, and-“

“good,” you faux yawn, turning onto your back. jisung blinks. “well, i’m wet and my pussy hasn’t had any attention-“

jisung clambers on top of you, nose pressing against your neck. “say no more.”

[cheollipop]

Ok why is this San…https://twitter.com/intimatespaces/status/1669599909702402049?s=20

Idk but I feel like San the type to go feral and fuck you at crazy speed and overstimulate you and see you squirm and he get off it. Love to teach a lesson but also praising and degrade you all the same time?!

(Sorry on my english)

nsfw link

your english is just fine love <3 (pretending I didn't punch a wall and howl when I first saw this)—thank you for giving me a reason to write jealous san~

nsfw under cut—minors dni!!

you moved with san's heaving chest—your body stuck to his with a mixture of sweat and your head rolled back to rest over his shoulder. his arm firm around your waist, his other hand reached to grab your jaw, angling your head sideways to meet your eyes.

"what are you thinking about, sweetheart?"

he was mocking you, you could tell. his voice lowered an octave and his eyebrows furrowed in faux concern. you didn't need a mirror to invision your appearance—eyes rolling back with every lurch of his hips, drool and tears coursing down the sides of your face, lips bitten and swollen from san's torturous nibbles. you barely registered the question, partly due to the loud reverberation of san's thighs slapping against yours, pounding his cock into you ruthlessly. your mind hazed in a thick fog of pleasure, you babbled uselessly— repetitions of his name broken up by pathetic whimpers.

"you were all over yunho earlier, but you're screaming my name now, aren't you, darling?" He cooed, brushing your hair off your forehead to press a kiss to your temple.

his hips ground languidly into your sopping cunt, the smooth glide of his cock between your walls sending you over the edge for the third time that night.

"how many times was that?" he rasped into your ear, your thighs trembling violently and shutting around the hand san sneaked between them.

"w-wait-"

"don't wanna," he peppered kisses to the side of your head, pushing your legs apart once again and hooking them over his thighs, hammering his cock into you and fucking you through the overstimulation. "my sweet girl wanted to be a slut for the day, so I'm gonna treat her like one." three fingers landed a firm slap on your clit, then another, feeling a coy smile against the skin of your neck before they began moving over the sensitive nub, flicking it back and forth while you writhed atop of san's body. "you didn't answer my question, slut. how many times was that?"

your body jerked away from him and—with a broken cry—rolled sideways. "three- f-four!" you shuddered against his chest, the press of his cockhead into your g-spot hurling you into another orgasm. "sannie, I-I can't!" you grabbed a fistful of the sheets by your head, your other hand drawing thin crescents over san's knuckles where they held onto your waist, his cock relentless as it continued to piston into you.

"you can take it," he slotted his thighs behind yours, the hand on your waist slipping down to hold your hips, squeezing the flesh to spread you open for him. he started with a slow grind, sheathing his length inside your overstimulated cunt and groaning into the crook of your neck. "my good girl wants sannie's cum, doesn't she?"

it hurt when you swallowed the drool pooling in your mouth, your throat scratchy and dry from the moans san ripped out of you. you nodded frantically, pushing your hips back into him, your walls clenching uncontrollably around his cock. "w-want it, please."

"of course you do," he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, moving back to lick over the marks he left behind. "my little slut wants her pussy filled to the brim, doesn't she? until she's dripping cum everywhere," he chuckled wryly, angling his cockhead just right and returning to his relentless pace.

his rhythm grew desperate, cock twitching between your fluttering walls and profanities slipping off his tongue as he chased his high. elongated chants of his name escaped through your gritted teeth while you begged him to cum, your nerves on fire as he worked them to their limit with skilled drives into your dripping cunt. he came with a guttural groan, the arm around your waist bringing you impossibly closer to him as he emptied his load inside you, hot ribbons of white shooting deep inside you and, once again, pushing you over the edge.

"fuck," san shuddered behind you, holding onto your hip while his other arm slid beneath you and over your chest. "such a good girl for me," a firm thrust to stuff his length into your used hole, "all mine to use," and another as he shot the last of his load inside. he smoothed a hand over your sides, soothing the violent spasms shaking your body, your walls clenching around his softening cock as you came down from your high.

a proud smile tugged the corners of san's lips upwards, a breathy mutter muffled over your shoulder, "five."

[moonbeamsandmayhem]

a/n: Eddie x fem!Reader. It’s been a while. Thank you all so much for bearing with me. This is a purely self-indulgent blurb/fic. Not beta read. Inspired after author watched Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire.

warnings: oral, penetration, dom/sub undertones if you squint, edging, reader with a vagina, Eddie being a little shit. I think that’s it! As always, please DM me if I missed anything.

October 31st, 1996 - 10:25pm

The candy had been eaten, scares given, and costumes put away for another year. You had gladly been on candy duty for a majority of the evening at the community centre, giving out treats, facilitating games for the little ones, and telling ghost stories to enraptured ten year olds who hung off your every word.

As for Eddie, he was running a DnD one-shot for the teens down the hallway. Occasionally you could hear raucous laughter and some profanities spew from the din. It brought a smile to your face knowing that he could still command a room like he had not-so-many years ago at Hawkins High.

But now, you’re home. In your shared apartment. Your legs are on his lap, while you balance a bowl of popcorn on yours. Your eyes are glued to the screen, watching as Dana Barrett and Louis Tully embrace, kissing passionately, the Keymaster and the Gatekeeper reunited at long last.

Your periphery catches movement as Eddie’s hand reaches for the popcorn before landing squarely (purposefully) on your thigh. You rip your attention from the TV to lift a curious brow at him, only to be met with a smirk. “Something on your mind, handsome?”

He croons, smirk growing to a full blown smile. “A few things, yeah,” Eddie admits, hand inching a little higher, “just thinkin’ about how killer you’d look in that dress.” He nods back to the screen, referring to the gown Dana’s wearing.

“You think I can pull that off?” You scoff.

“Sweetheart, you can pull off a god damn trash bag.”

“I’m not Sigourney Weaver, Eddie.”

“She’s got nothing on you.” He tugs the bowl from out of your grasp, placing it on the coffee table before giving you his full attention. Leaning over, he cages you in, forcing you full on your back against the couch. Eddie’s lips brush against yours, silently asking for permission, with a small peck against his, he surges against you like a man trying to quench his thirst. His hands are everywhere, as are yours, a whirlwind of disregarded clothes find themselves unceremoniously on the floor, but you’re both too distracted to care.

“You looked so hot in that witch’s outfit, babe. Was hard to keep it together tonight.” He latches on to the space where shoulder meets neck, sucking in a bruise.

“Y-you looked pretty hand - fuck - handsome yourself. The eyeliner, the fake-fangs, like something out of The Lost Boys, Christ, Ed’s.”

“Mhm. You like a bad boy, don’t ya, sweets?” Lathing the spot with the flat of his tongue. You shudder, eyes rolling back a little, losing yourself - did he say something? He nips at your skin and you gasp. “I asked you a question.”

“Could - could you repeat the - ah - shit - you’re distracting me, Munson.” You pout.

“Am I?” He looks at you with those big brown eyes, all faux-innocence and one-hundred percent mischief. “My bad.”

“Asshole.”

Eddie chuckles softly, “Guilty as charged. Now, are you gonna let me continue being a distraction or…?”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Yes.”

You cum three times. First, on his tongue. And he makes you work for it, pay back for calling him an asshole. He lifts you higher and higher then pulls his affections away, leaving fluttery kisses around your clit before he starts again. He does this four times until you’re nearly sobbing. It’s a rather messy affair when he finally lets you cum, snapping like a taut wire, and gushing all over him.

Still dazed and trembling from the power of your orgasm, he pulls a second with practiced fingers. Playing you like he plays his guitar, making you sing into the howling night. You’re begging for his cock now, begging to cream all over it, but he shushes you as he works in a fourth digit. You arch your back clear off the couch like a woman possessed, you cum harder than you have in your life.

Or so you thought.

When Eddie eases into you, it’s the closest thing to heaven you can imagine. He stretches you and fills you just right, the piercing on the tip of his cock finding that spot only he knows how to he reach. He presses his forehead to yours, muttering to keep your eyes on him. And you do, because how could you possibly look away? Not only does he fuck you like tonight is the last night on Earth, he makes love to you as if you’re the only two people left on the planet. Slow, self-assured, comforting, everything else dissolves around you. You cum so hard you see stars. Your lungs burn, robbed of air, as you clench and cream and gush. He empties into you with such a guttural groan of relief at the exact same moment, sweat beading his beautiful brow. He pumps, once, twice, a third time, then lays on top of you, satiated, dipping his head a little to nuzzle his nose against yours.

“You absolute menace.” You tease, with an exhausted smile, leaning forward to capture his lips.

“What can I say? Bustin’ makes me feel good, baby.”

[kmalexander]

Raunch Review: The Mandalorian

Raunch Reviews is a series about profanity. Not real profanity, but speculative swearing. Authors often try to incorporate original, innovative forms of profanity into our own fantastical works as a way to expand the worlds we build. Sometimes we’re successful. Often we’re not. In this series, I examine the faux-profanity from various works of sci-fi and fantasy, judge their effectiveness, and…

[cherryrouge]

acquit

lawyer!harry x lawyer!y/n

warnings: profanity, angst, mentions of murder and death

work count: 2.3k

please read action, part I of this fic, before reading this!

“are you still at the office?” y/n speaks into her phone, the gentle whir of the car she sits in acts as white noise.

“it’s ten at night on a friday, where else would i be?” mitch’s grainy voice replies, the sounds of the copier and the flipping of papers indicating that he’s working away in the file room.

“great. i need you to get me a copy of every financial transaction simon bernstein has made in the last twenty years. along with the distract attorney’s office, clifford brown, and mark jensen.” she orders, the car coming to a halt, denoting her arrival at her destination. 

“yeah, no. it’s not like i have a girlfriend to see, a family to call, or a life-“ mitch sarcastically remarks back.

“perfect. and if you could cross reference them and highlight any overlap, that would be amazing.” the sound of the car door shutting seemingly grabs the attention of her associate. 

“where are you anyway?” 

“out with harry.”

“oh? willingly?” she laughs at his response, exiting out of the car after harry opens her door for her.

“we are meeting with harry’s old client.” the old client in question being mark jensen. mitch scoffs from over the phone.

“why hasn’t harry already run a financial screening?”

“i think you could guess.”

“harry won’t let go of the goddamn dna samples.”

“bingo,” the clearing of her company’s throats signals her to wrap up her conversation, “i’ll see you in my office tomorrow morning.”

with that she hangs up the phone and turns her attention to the man beside her.

“finished telling your associate how to do his job?” harry replies with a straight face, snarky in every sense of the word.

“figured i might get us some real, tangible evidence while you continue to have a conniption fit over a goddamn t-shirt that we cannot use.” she offers him a tight-lipped, faux smile before facing in the direction of the bar they were supposed to be able to find mark in.

“what’s your plan with this, anyway?” she asks, earnestly. 

“you’ll see.” as cold and confident as can be, harry starts walking for the door. y/n is quick to hop into motion. 

“to quote your earlier statement: if we are going to work together, you are going to need to understand something about me. i appreciate and expect clear communication of motives before meeting with any client.” she snaps, walking at a faster pace in order to keep up with him as they approach the door. 

“well, isn’t that a shame,” he mockingly retorts, opening the door for her with a fake smile mirroring hers. she narrows her eyes as she steps into the bar. the scene is dim, space filled with music and the chatter of the patrons of the establishment. as far as bars go, this one is quite classy. but she supposes she should expect nothing less from harry or his clients, present or past. 

she feels a hand brush against the small of her back. her head turns toward the culprit, the culprit shockingly being harry. without even sparing a glance in her direction, he beckons her to follow him deeper into the bar with a nod of his head, eyes set on one man. she’s never seen this infamous man, mark jensen. he’s the only name she’s heard for the past couple of days, and she’s excited to finally see the son of a bitches face.

when they are finally met with him at the bar, he turns from his spot flirting with a redhead. he has a slightly horrified look, genuinely not expecting for them to intrude on his night. one she could only imagine he had big plans for. he’s blonde, has blue eyes, a distinct sloped nose and sharp jawline. he’s the perfect all-american man. upon meeting his new, unwanted company’s gaze, a scowl forms on his thin lips.

“what are you-“

“you might want to leave, this guy’s known for killing women. wouldn’t want you to be next.” harry says abruptly towards the woman standing beside mark, who all but runs away from the group after hearing such a worrying accusation.

“what the fuck?” mark says, a hot flush coming to his pale, freckled cheeks.

“i have two questions for you: did grace winfrey reject you? and is that why you killed her?” harry fires back, nonchalant as if he was telling him the weather. y/n’s mouth gapes in shock at her partners words, momentarily wishing he’d quiet down. however, she remembers the case she’s working on and who they are speaking to and quickly regains her composure. 

“you can’t talk to me without my lawyer present.” he retorts.

“oh right, the d.a. you know, i’m shocked he wasn’t with you already. considering you guys are so friendly.” 

“what are you even talking about?” his eyebrows furrow, imitating confusion and anger but his eyes are glazed with worry.

“you and i both know what im talking about.”  harry easily chokes him up, mark gulps down his whiskey and sets his glass on the bar. 

“whatever,” mark rolls his eyes, grabbing his coat from the chair he was sitting in before their arrival, “i’ll see you in court, asshole.”

mark leaves and y/n looks to harry, who’s eyes follow mark as he walks out of the bar and into a car. y/n is shocked, and a little disturbed by harry’s behavior.

“the hell was that?” y/n exclaims in a hushed tone, a bewildered look in her eyes. harry turns his attention to her.

“a means to an end.” he says simply, a smirk on his lips. 

“and how’s that?” she questions incredulously, hands resting on her hips as she looks at harry. 

“because without that,” he points to the door mark just exited out of, “we wouldn’t have that.” he points to mark’s glass of whiskey, absolutely covered in finger prints and spit. y/n’s eyes widen as she realizes his ploy.

“what does that matter if we don’t have the shirt?” she points out as she watches put the cup in a ziplock bag, his hand now gloved as to not tamper with his prized possession.

“who said anything about the shirt? i can still cite the murder weapon.” 

“we,” she corrects, “and the murder weapon has been tested and is covered in our clients fingerprints.” 

“so the district attorney clifford brown, then judge, said.” he states, giving her a pointed look. she processes his words, nodding her head in understanding.

“if your associate can find anything in those bank statements, we have evidence that mark jensen bribed the d.a. to bury and tamper with evidence. then we have a good old fashioned murder trial.” 

y/n walks into the firm with more conviction than usual. confident and hopeful that mitch found something to indicate bribery in the financial records. her heels clack against the hardwood floor and her bag sways with her arm as she walks. she’s happy to see a familiar long-haired man sitting in her office as she gets to her door. 

“find anything?” she says, expectantly as she walks into the space, setting her purse down by her chair and putting her coat on the coat rack.

“good morning to you, too. and yes, actually.” mitch plops the files down onto her desk as y/n takes a seat. 

“great. brief me.” she orders, opening up the top file in her stack. 

“there’s a transaction of fifteen million dollars from jensen’s father to simon bernstein on march sixth, two-thousand four. just two days after the suspects were named and bernstein was employed by the family. they weren’t paying bernstein’s rate as that was done one day before grace winfrey’s body was found. then that fifteen million was deposited and then sent to the district attorney’s office.” mitch states, alluding to what they both knew. mark was a criminal. 

“thank you, mitch.” she says with a smile, happy with the results and excited to show harry exactly what they need to win this case.

setting the files down on his desk, y/n stands tall with a proud smirk on her face. harry looks at the new items place in front of him then to the woman who put them there with a questioning look.

“mr. jensen was protecting his little boy.” she alludes to the evidence of bribery within the stack of papers. harry’s eyes soften with a nod. 

“you got it?” 

“yep.” she replies, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. harry sifts through the papers, finding exactly what evidence she was suggesting. after finding it, he nods his head. 

“you know, a normal response would be a ‘great!’ or a ‘thank you!’” she mentions. harry just rolls his eyes. 

“that should do it.” now it’s her turn to roll her eyes.

“our hearing is tomorrow, correct?”

“my hearing.” harry corrects. y/n’s brows furrow and her head tilts to the side, displaying her confusing.

“i’m sorry?”

“i said that should do it, y/n. i’ll be taking the case from here, on my own.” he states, still not making eye contact with her.

“you’re kidding right.” 

“nope.” 

“on who’s authority.” she parrots his question from the beginning of this situation.

“mine.” she laughs, dryly. dumbfounded by his behavior.

“you know, you’re a lot of things but i didn’t think ignorant was one of them.” she crosses her arms as she stands before him. utterly stunned and angry with the man sitting so calmly in-front of her. 

“i’m unsure how i’m being ignorant-“ he begins.

“letting a childish rivalry get in the way of doing your goddamn job, that’s how,” she fires. for the first time since she’s walked in that room, he looks at her and takes in her appearance. her face as she stares sternly at him, eyes narrowed and a frown on her painted lips. if looks could kill, harry would have dropped dead on his desk.

“ever since i started working here, you always had some negative, demeaning thing to say to me. about my work, my accomplishments, anything. and i thought that things were changing, that we were working well together, and that we would start seeing eye to eye but i was incredibly naïve. because if i know one thing about you, it's that the only thing you love more than winning is attention. and you want it all to yourself. so much so that you'd disregard justice."

“this isn’t about us, or you’re ridiculous need for attention, or my need to feel respected. it’s about bringing justice to a girl who was murdered twenty years ago and her family. it’s about freeing a boy who was wrongfully convicted for the murder of a girl he hardly knew.” she barks at him, his eyes set on her’s. he’s hearing everything she has to say but offering no words in return. she scoffs at his non response.

“you know what, maybe you are right. maybe, i’m not ready for the 'big leagues.' because if this is what it’s really about, i don’t want any part of it.” with those final words she storms out of his office.

harry can admit, he has been an asshole. he can also admit that everything y/n said to him was correct. he hadn’t liked y/n in the start. her intelligent quips, her confident personality, the way she held and dressed herself. if you looked at her, you’d just assume she was a lawyer, a good one at that. she had accomplished more in her two years at the firm than harry did in his first five. she was praised, rightfully so. and harry hated it. 

it was indeed very childish for him to be as resentful towards her as he was. she had done nothing to him, except be successful. something he should be happy about because the firm was benefiting from her presence so everyone was. but harry’s ego took a hit. his place at this firm, the most powerful firm in new york, was compromised. each time he made a mistake, he was vulnerable. audrey had made that clear to him. y/n had replaced others in the firm and if he wasn’t careful, she’d replace him. an idea harry loathed. 

he was threatened by her mere presence and she didn’t even have to speak to him. so harry took it upon himself to diminish her, in hopes that she would feel the same way about him. 

all it seemed to do was ruin any chances of them possibly being able to work together in a cohesive and beneficial manner. so when harry went to audrey’s office to persuade her into taking y/n off the case, harry said exactly that.

“i understand it’s disappointing to hear but due to mutual dislike, it would be best if i were the only one on this case.” harry states, calmly. audrey stares into him, face unreadable and mood level.

“bullshit.” 

“what?” 

“‘mutual dislike.’ you can’t stand that someone finally matches your level.”

“that’s far from the truth.” lie.

“she might even be better.”

“i don’t think that is fair to say.” lie. audrey laughs, dismissively. 

“whatever feelings you have about her, drop it.” she says in a stern tone, ”this is a case that requires the focus of two people and i firmly believe that an adult man should be able to see past whatever resentment he has for his colleague to put a clients best interests first.” harry nods.

“you will rectify this misunderstanding, understood?” 

“yep.”

harry styles harrystyles@holmesharrison.com

jensen vs. the state

to: y/ny/l/n@holmesharrison.com

y/n,

the court hearing is tomorrow at 10 am. i expect to see you there.

harry styles 

senior partner 

-

aaaannnddd that's part II. i hope you enjoy!

with love, rory.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

The Type of Yandere König Is

Warnings: 18+, Toxic Behaviour, Manipulative Behaviour, Gaslighting, Possessiveness, Implied Smut, Non-Explicit Implications of Smut, Toys Mentioned, Degradation, Slut-Shaming, Submissive König, Dominant König, Aftercare, Petnames, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

SFW

Insanely loyal and loving – wolfishly puppyish in his temperament.

For you, and only you, he shows his soft side; acts of domesticity and kindness are his love language.

Though, he tells you he loves you on a nigh-hourly basis.

“I just can’t seem to stop saying it – I love you !”

He knows you better than you know yourself, and he uses this knowledge to his advantage.

He’ll all but read your mind through subtle physical cues – changes in posture, a shift in the atmosphere, the dilation of your pupils – to do for you what you haven’t even thought of doing yet.

Passing you your drink, cooking you a meal, performing your chores for you – anything you can possibly think of doing or needing, König handles it before you can.

Of course this insatiable need to perform is rooted in love. But it runs much deeper than that.

König needs you – so utterly and unequivocally that it frightens him. And the thought of you leaving and taking his heart with you is infinitely more terrifying to him than having to put his life on the line and indulge in his occupation whenever he’s taken off leave.

König wants you to see that you need him as much as he does you, that you should (and will be) dependent on him not just for your happiness, but for your survival.

This desire to be all that you need becomes especially evident a good year into your relationship; when you trust König more than anyone – more than yourself – he takes that trust and runs with it.

He absolutely gaslights you into believing you’ve misplaced things, done things you haven’t done. While this is a good enough excuse to keep you in the house, he’s not above resorting to most outlandish tales to isolate you further, no matter how ludicrous his ‘reasoning’ may seem.

“You want to go out ? Now ?” he’ll say. “But–” he peeks behind the curtain, looks out the window, “Darling, it’s raining.”

“König, I can hear the sun shining, Köni; it’s not raining.”

And all to keep you dependent on him.

Whether or not you take to König’s lies is up to how much you love him, how well you believe you can live without him.

But just know that, if you ever try to leave him – when you are immune to his persuasion and elusion – König has made people disappear before. And he’ll do it again.

NSFW

This man will be anything you want him to be – it doesn’t matter how demeaning it is.

Whatever mood you’re in, he has something to cater to it.

Cat ears, maid outfit, gags, rope, nipple clamps, whips – you name it, he’s let you use it on him.

So long as you’re enjoying yourself, so is he. 

He literally can’t finish until you do. So for both love and sanity’s sake, he’s a very proficient lover.

Definitely a moaner when he’s subbing – his whines and whimpers are so pretty and breathless that you can hardly believe they come from such a behemoth of a military princess.

This paints König out as a rather submissive breed of boyfriend, which, to the untrained eye, would be a fair observation.

However, you know better. Much better.

But that doesn’t stop you from making ‘mistakes’; little slips of the tongue – or the hand – that make his blood simmer and his eyes narrow, a jagged anger building in the periphery of your day-to-day.

Building and building, a monument that could touch God with the faux patience this man grants you – “One last chance, Engel,” to hold back the monster clawing its way out of König’s body.

Making König jealous or angering him ensures you’re the target of his reprehensible rage for the stretch of night ahead.

And when König snaps, he gets dominant.

Everything you’ve used on him, he uses on you, too.

And he does so without mercy.

Every time he’s topping, he’s got you weeping, sobbing, screaming, begging for more and less at the same time – and more often than not absolutely speechless for the fact that your mind is completely empty by the time he’s halfway through with you.

Definitely degrades you. And he is not gentle with it at all.

“Stupid little whore – filthy fucking slut –” things of that nature.

Treats you as his personal cum dumpster; he just fills you and fills you until you look or sound as if you’re about to burst.

But alas, it matters little how much you tell König you “Can’t take anymore–” because he’ll always find a way to make you take more of him.

“Oh no, Sweetheart, you will take more,” he’ll tell you.

“After all, what good are you to me if you can’t handle my load ?”

The night usually ends with you being bruised and sore and swollen after your excursion with König; marks which hurt to the touch for days afterwards. A deterrent.

However, no matter how badly he roughs you up during your time together, he always makes sure to take care of you afterwards – of any needs, no matter how niche.

And as he’s tucking you into bed, your body unconscious, König hopes that nights like these remind you that you belong to him. And he to you.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

There's a snake in my pants - K.MG

🤠Who; Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x gender-neutral reader 🤠What; Crack/humour. Some fluff. Established relationship. Himbo Mingyu! [I love himbo Gyu] 🤠Word count; 2.3k 🤠Warnings; Profanity. Critter mentions (literally the word critter plus snake but uhhh not the animal). Misuse of a lasso, bad Mingyu, but it's funny dw. And no one gets hurt. Mentions of pervert/voyeur Wonwoo but it's not plot relevant. Very suggestive in general but no smut or actual sexual actions. Reader wears lingerie.

Although there isn't any smut, this is definitely an 18+ fic so Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

Summary; Your boyfriend wants to try a new sexy roleplay idea, it doesn't go well.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- This goes out to @ourdawnishotterthanourday , I hope you enjoy reading this as if you don't already know exactly what's going to happen anyway from my screaming about the himbo cowboy collective (omg series idea???) Thank you for encouraging me to live my best crack life, sweetheart 💖 And big thank you to @wonuvs for helping me so much with the header, I know it must've been hard to look at shirtless Mingyu so much 💖

Approximately twenty minutes ago, your lovable idiot of a boyfriend told you to go and wait on your bed for him, gave you a wink then skipped off with an excited giggle. Which, cute, yes, but also very very worrying.

As much as you adore Mingyu, you are very aware that he has some rather questionable ideas in general, what with him being what you would call a Class A Himbo; and unfortunately, he has brought those questionable ideas into the bedroom on more than one occasion. There is now a strict rule about no balloons in the bedroom and likely not for the reason you think.

So although you do go to your shared room and get dressed down in a lingerie set you know that he likes, you truly can't say that you exactly have high hopes for whatever your boyfriend has planned.

When the door creaks open, you're confused because all you see is Mingyu's hand appearing from one side to nudge the door open as wide as it can go. It takes a few pushes of his fingers before the door does actually swing open and then his arm darts back. A second later, Mingyu gallops into view and you don't know if you want to laugh or mentally log out more.

Because gallop isn't even an inaccurate description of the way he enters. Like a child pretending to play cowboys with one of those long wooden poles with the plush horse's heads set on one end with attached reigns. You can't tell if the fact he has one of those children's toy horses makes it worse or not. You can't even admire the way his thick thighs, showcased by just the tiny pair of boxer briefs he's wearing, are pressed tight around either side of the thick wooden pole to keep it upright with both of his hands barely fitting on the tiny little loop of faux-leather that makes up the reigns.

All Mingyu is wearing are those tiny little dark boxers that don't even fully cover his asscheeks, a cowboy hat and cowboy boots. Oh, and there's some thin dark rope looped diagonally over his bare chest. That can't be good.

"Howdy partner." Mingyu starts, entirely serious in his roleplay and doing his best to put on the 'cowboy voice' you know that he and his friends have been practising together to be 'real cowboys'.

Even though you're still trying to figure out exactly how you feel about this particular roleplay choice of your boyfriend, you can't help but at least humour him. He's far too cute and sweet in general to not try, at the very least, to play along. "Howdy, cowboy," You reply, a little dumbstruck yet Mingyu lights up brightly all the same.

He wiggles slightly in excitement, forgetting himself a little in his joy, then remembers he's supposed to be a 'sexy, serious cowboy-man' and schools his expression. He doesn't even notice the amused twitch of your lips at his slip. "I'm new to town and I hear you're the person to come to when there's trouble."

"Oh, there's trouble, is there?" You hum and shuffle to sit up against the headboard. You're internally very relieved when he removes the horse and props it against the wall. It's much easier to take him seriously when he's standing there in all his ridiculously handsome glory.

"Yes, ma'am." Oh, you could get used to him saying those words in that voice, pitched slightly lower than normal and a little rough. Maybe their 'cowboy meetings' have been more successful than you've realised. Because Mingyu, nor his friends, have improved very much in the actual horse riding aspect of being a modern-day cowboy. But at least the voice is getting good.

"Sounds serious."

"It is." He steps a little closer, hands on his hips and you can't tell if it's intentional or not but it draws your eyes to his crotch in those tiny boxers leaving nothing to the imagination. Not that you need to imagine what he's packing underneath when he's always so willing to let you see, and feel, and taste. "Do you think you can help a cowboy out, ma'am?"

"Keep calling me ma'am and it sounds pretty likely." You mutter and lift your gaze back up to his face. He's smirking at you now, well aware of how much you love his body. "Tell me, what's the issue, cowboy?"

"Well, you see, it involves a certain critter," You try not to giggle at him using the term critter, you can't help it when all you can think of is the endearing way he and his friends will call any living animal or insect critter; often in a loud screech when a bug flies too close to them.

"Ooh, I see. You have a critter problem."

"That I do, ma'am."

"And a big strong cowboy like you can't handle a single critter?"

"I'm more skilled with the bigger critters."

"So this critter is small?" You wonder how many times the two of you will use the term critter, it really does not help set the mood, just amuses you honestly. This situation has already devolved in your mind and Mingyu hasn't even noticed, he's still very serious about his big-boy cowboy role-play.

"Yes," His face drops. "Wait, no! It's not." He pouts a little, barely a little protrusion of his bottom lip.

"So it's not big enough for you to handle yourself, but it's not small?" He nods and slips back into character. "How big is it exactly?"

"Big enough." You think you understand what he's trying to do here. But you're willing to let it play out at least.

"Okay, give it to me."

"Give it to you?" His eyes round out a little with the excitement those words bring him.

"I mean, tell me what it is." You correct and try not to giggle at the disappointed little oh he lets out, understanding the miscommunication there.

Though, once again, he gets right back into character and locks his serious, sultry gaze on you as the tips of his thumbs hook into the waistband of his boxers without removing his hands from his hips. "There's a snake in my pants." Yup, that's about exactly where you thought he was going with this.

"I can't believe you've defiled my childhood like that, Mingyu." You deadpan, unimpressed. His arms drop along with his expression.

"What? What did I do wrong? It's just a line!" He whines. "Wonwoo taught it to me!"

"Wonwoo?" You sigh. "Baby, what have I told you about listening to Wonwoo where sex is involved?"

"That he's wrong that sitting in the tree outside our window with binoculars isn't a natural biology lesson no matter if he takes notes." He replies in very much the tone of a man who has had those very words drilled into him many times.

"I…well yes, that is a very good one, thank you for remembering." Mingyu perks up a little at your approving response. "But that's not what I meant."

"Uhm," He thinks hard. "That he's wrong that you have to bark during doggy style." That particular memory sends shivers down your spine, you had hoped to forget it.

"Also very correct and please don't bring that up again."

"I'm sorry, I really thought he knew what he was talking about!" Mingyu defends quickly. "He's so smart, baby!"

"Uh," You don't know how to respond. Wonwoo is not smart, he may look scholarly with his glasses and cardigans when he's lounging around, but he is, like your boyfriend, just another pretty himbo. All four of the group are and you still can't tell who's the worst of them. Still, you adore the four and would never change a thing about any of them, even if their dumbassery has caused a lot of trouble since they moved to town. So you move on. "The point is, Gyu, you shouldn't listen to Wonwoo's sex advice, ever. Remember that?"

"Oh, right, yeah, you've said that before." He nods slowly in understanding, looking kind of dejectedly down at the bedframe. He looks like a scolded puppy, it pulls your heartstrings enough to want to try and salvage the situation.

"Was this whole roleplay Wonwoo's idea?" You wonder. Mingyu looks up at you and shakes his head, lips pouted cutely at you and eyes big. "Yours?"

"Yeah. And Seungcheol's. You've never told me not to take sex advice from him!"

Okay, you have to admit, Seungcheol is probably the only one from Mingyu's three besties that you think would give pretty decent sex advice, you know he at least has active ongoing experience with a friend of your own and they've always sung his praises. Wonwoo is…well nobody knows for sure if Wonwoo has ever actually had sex. He kind of gives off horny virgin energy, honestly whenever sexual conversations come up but he's always been pretty smooth when flirting so it could go either way. And the fourth of their group is precious, naive Seokmin; you know he has experience himself but he's a very sweet guy and always seems scandalised when anything out of vanilla is mentioned.

"Okay, then I'm willing to pick this back up if you really want to try it, sweetheart."

"I do!" Mingyu beams and suddenly looks as if you've offered him the world on a silver platter, drizzled in sweet syrup ready for him to slurp up. Oh, does that remind you of another one of his slightly less questionable bedroom surprises. But that's an entirely different story. "Okay, okay," Mingyu takes a few breaths to calm his visible joy, it's so cute watching him bring his hands up as he inhales deeply then turn and push them palms downwards to the floor as he exhales.

He may have some very odd ideas, but man, did you score an adorable sweetheart of a boyfriend who you hope will never change and always remain this way. You've not even been together that long, just a handful of months really, but you're pretty sure he's it for you. Your forever. The one you want to spend the rest of your life with.

When he's collected himself, he turns back to you and decides to entirely bypass the whole snake in his pants section, wisely so you think, and starts to remove the ropes from around his torso. He only knocks his hat off twice, though you barely notice because now all you can think about is the fact that it seems like you won't be the one to have to bring up bondage.

While you're wondering if your big beefy boyfriend is about to hogtie you and have his way with you, Mingyu gathers the long rope in his right hand and then takes one end into his left. It's then that you notice the very distinct large loop in one end.

Horror spreads through your body as you realise that Kim Mingyu has brought a fucking lasso into the bedroom. "Gyu-" You start in warning yet he's already pulling his arm back and launching the rope in your general direction. You yelp automatically, expecting to get hit in the face, yet it doesn't touch you. There's a loud crash on your right so you look over only to find that the only remaining one of the pair of bedside lamps is now in pieces on the hardwood flooring, the loop of Mingyu's lasso caught around the shade. It's like the balloon incident all over again. And now you have no bedside lamps, thanks to Kim Mingyu.

There's pure silence for a tense few seconds as you both stare dumbly at the mess on the floor.

Mingyu's whisper breaks the silence "Fuck." And then you burst into howling laughter. "Babe!" He whines but you can't stop, toppling over onto your side on the bed with the power of your laughs.

The whole situation has been a mess from start to finish. It's a miracle you lasted this long without some kind of breakdown. You're just glad it's the laughing kind and not the mental kind.

It takes a minute of poutily grumbling about working him hard on the scenario, learning how to tie a lasso knot and modelling endless hats and boots for his friends so they can help him pick the right ones before the humour of it all actually hits Mingyu.

It starts with a little giggle and then he looks between you and the broken lamp a few times and has to flop across the bed as he laughs along with you, uncaring that his hat falls off.

Slowly, both of you stop laughing and calm enough to look at each other. You're still grinning like fools and there are tear tracks down your cheeks from it, but you're happy. He's happy. That's all that matters.

Mingyu shuffles over to you in a manner that makes giggles bubble out of your throat until he's on his side close enough to lean in and press a soft kiss to your lips. "I love you," He informs gently when he pulls back to look adoringly into your eyes. Your expression softens and quickly melts into the mirror of his own as you brush your fingertips over his cheek.

"I love you too." You reply, smiling as he lays his hand over the back of yours to hold it in place as he turns his head to kiss your palm, planting his love right there where you can keep it safe for as long as you want to. And then he looks back at you and holds your palm to his cheek. "Just no more lassos in the bedroom,"

Mingyu laughs and nods in agreement. "No more lassos in the bedroom."

"House in general. Indoors. No lassos indoors."

"Okay, baby," He giggles and kisses you once more sweetly before getting up and picking his hat up off the mattress to plop on your head when you sit up. You adjust it so that you can watch as he crouches down beside the broken lamp to begin cleaning up the mess you made. And as you watch him, there's only one thought on your mind.

Yeah, he really is it for you.

A/N- Believe it or not, the original idea that caused this one has a much higher crack content and I may have to write that too. This story can be considered a spin-off of that, or one in the collection of the same universe focused on the 4 himbos and their adventures.

[passionateseadruid]

Snake King’s Bride

Warning: Profanity (The F bomb), unhealthy relationships, human sacrifice, deals with the devil. (Why tf am I writing this 😭(because I had an idea and it wouldn’t get out of my head that’s why)) Other warnings may be added.

Part one The Exchange

You were so excited to move out and go to college. But in this economy everything is expensive, so you got a roommate and a job at this adorable little thrift store. (Employee discount for the win). 

“Bye, Lilian! I’m off to work!”

“Okay! I’ll be home late, so don’t wait up!”

“Alright! If you feel unsafe or if you want to leave the concert early feel free to call me!”

“Okay!”

You made your way to your job and entered the shop.

“Kaitlyn I’m here!”

“Oh hey! Come in come in! I was just reorganizing some stuff.” She stood on a chair as she swapped some things on shelfs, next to her lay a bag of flower petals (fake ones most likely).

“Anything new or interesting get dropped off?”

“My step-sister Regan dropped off a ring earlier today.” She said hopping down.

“Ooh! What does it look like?”

“It’s gold and it’s shaped like a snake coiled around your finger. And it’s eating a little ruby in the shape of an apple.”

“Can I see it?”

“You’re… interested?”

“I guess you could say so.”

She smiled, almost exited and relieved at once. “I’ll go get it.”

She left and after a few minutes you were worried so you went to find her and you heard her talking in the break room.

“…

I promise she’s perfect

…

Trust me! Rea Rea doesn’t have to get hurt

…

See?!

…

Oh thank you!” She walked out of the break room and you hid behind a clothing rack. 

You pretended to be coming back from the bathroom. “Hey, I just want to say that I hope you know I’m here for you if you need anything. Like I know this is out of pocket but I thought I’d tell you because we’re getting close.”

“I’m fine. Here’s the ring.”

“This is beautiful!”

“Put it on!”

“What? Why?” You laughed.

“Why not? I won’t tell. Just do it.”

“Okay but only for a minute.” You slipped it on. “Okay that’s enough… why won’t it come off?”

“It’s… not coming off?” Kaitlyn asked nervously.

“I’m going to see if I can loosen it with maybe some soap or something. Where did your sister get this ring by the way?!” You yelled from the bathroom. The shop was usually empty on weekdays so you didn’t really care about how loud you were being.

“Um… my little sister said that it was a family heirloom to be passed down to the first woman born into that family on her 20th birthday.”

“Okaaaay…”

“I’m not finding anything; but while you have that ring on why don’t we have some fun!”

“What do you mean by that?” You asked cautiously.

“Why don’t we just pretend that you’re getting married?”

“What?” You laughed.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!”

"Why not?" You smiled.

You pulled out an old wedding dress and the matching shoes. She arranged the flower petals from before in a circular pattern and placed some candles around. "I think this dress might be a bit big on me."

"I'll grab some safety pins." Kaitlyn smiled.

You changed into the dress and when you went to zip it up it felt like the dress shrunk to fit snuggly on you. It was a white ballgown dress with a sweetheart neckline and long sleeves. She then changed into some white close toed wedges with faux gemstones dangling from the strap. It felt like the shoes were expanding as you slipped into them. "Huh, everything is a perfect fit." You then slipped on a chocker that had two rows of pearls and a big diamond in the center and finally placed the veil that came with the dress on top of your head.

Stepping out Kaitlyn had adjusted the veil to cover your face and lead you over to the ring of flowers. "Okay stand here for a second."

"Kaitlyn, something doesn't feel right about this." You said as you stepped into the circle.

"Shut up."

"Excuse you!"

Kaitlyn starts speaking in Latin as you try to step out of the circle. "Kaitlyn stop! You're scaring me!" A forcefield stopped you from leaving the circle. "What the fuck? What the fuck is this? Let me out!"

A fiery rift slices through the air and a dark demonic voice calls out.

"Please, Dark King of hell take her as your bride in exchange for Regan!"

"Deal now leave me be."

"What NO!" You screamed as the floor erupted from under you.

[constantinerkives]

Dance Macabre // Drabble

PAIRING: Yoo Jimin x fem reader

WARNINGS: established relationship, yandere Karina, kidnapping, allusions to violence and unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, and profanity. You and Jimin have children, Chairwoman! Karina, MILF! Karina and OC, Johan Liebert reference because I love that soft-spoken manipulative villain.

A/N: Before I begin the mean girl Aeri one-shot, this prompt has been plaguing me ever since I started re-watching 'Monster' so I had to do something about it because my hyper-fixated mind won’t stop unless it’s done. So to soothe this cursed thought, I’ll write about this and be free to begin orchestrating my next one-shot.

SYNOPSIS: To you, she’s your angel. To her enemies, she is death, and to your children: she is a god.

Your wife is a creature of habit.

You observed this when she started courting you during your college days. To you, she is the epitome of perfection; to those that cross her, she is death. 

For your safety, you must update her on your whereabouts. Karina liked knowing that she'll check the time, knowing exactly where you are and what you are doing. Failure to do so and consequences will follow. 

You didn't mind your strict schedule. You like sticking to a routine. 

Until you didn't, all it took was an argument with an entitled customer who broke your phone in anger and stormed off. And due to a broken phone, you didn't update your wife; she was angry. Karina's fury isn't like a volcano, no. It's silent, cold, and calculating. 

When you came home, the first thing you did was to get on your knees and begged for your wife to see reason - it wasn't your fault that your phone broke! But alas, your pleas fell on deaf ears - she wasn't having it.

Karina walks over to you and grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to look up at the older woman whose black, abysmal eyes swim with danger and twisted delight. She caresses your cheek, and your hope shatters as a faux disappointed sigh leaves her pretty lips.

"I still have to punish you, darling." Jimin pecks your lips. "Now run to the bedroom and wait for me, do you understand?"

"Do you understand?" Oh, the cruelty of adulthood.  

She fucked you raw and unrelentlessly, even when your throat became raw from screaming, even when your cunt was full of your mixed juices - the woman didn't stop. Not until she was satisfied.

And because of her treatment, you gave birth to her daughter nine months later. Ariadne Yoo, the carbon copy of her mother, is beautiful and sharp, even for a three-year-old. You and Karina cherished her, and it didn't take long for your daughter to ask for a sibling; naturally, you and Karina complied with your daughter's request, which brings you to your second pregnancy: another girl. 

Like your first pregnancy with Ariadne, Karina is protective of you and your unborn child. She made sure that she was updated on your whereabouts, even as far as placing a tracking device on all your jewelry. 

And it all went smoothly, until-

Pregnancy made you soft and vulnerable. That's why you felt sympathetic toward a group of innocent-looking teens whose car broke down. Motherhood made you want to make sure that this group made it home safely. 

It proved to be a stupid move because one minute later, your arms and legs were bound with tape on your mouth while they stuffed you in their supposed broke-down car and threw you into a cold, damp warehouse: a stark contrast to the luxury and comfort that your wife provided for you and your children.

After pulling the 'I'm pregnant' card, they were kind enough to make you sleep on a thin bed. And while they were discussing the desired amount for your ransom, you mull how this happened. Karina studied the map of the city to create a safe route for you to run your errands. Perhaps this is how they found out. 

They're smart, but not smart enough as your phone dings in the hands of one of your captors. She sneers and skips toward you as she shows you your wife's message. It read: 

You're late. 

Blood drains from your face. Your wife knows where you are, but she wants you to explain in front of her before she makes a verdict. 

"What's the password?" She asks; you tell her.

She licks her upper teeth as she types on your phone's keyboard. 

"Young lady," You tread carefully, "Whatever it is that your gang wants, it's not worth it." 

She gives you a dirty look as the group stops talking and turns their attention towards you and one of their members. 

One of them scoffs, a man. "Oh, it is." He joins the young lady and drapes his arm around her shoulders. "It's easy money for your wife." He looks at her, a sick smile gracing his thin lips as his beady eyes glow with repulsive greed. 

"Shall we make it $30 Million?"

The lady gasps, "Perfect," 

"You can't spend it when you're dead." You tell them. The man's face darkens as he storms towards you and grabs you by the hair, eliciting a yelp from you. "You're in no position to threaten us, bitch." 

"Please," You plead, "You have to trust me-"

"Shut that bitch up, please." One of them jeers and the man happily obliges as he slaps your face. The side of your face stings red, and he hits you again. 

You're sure that their fate will be worse than death; Karina hates it when you get hurt. 

"Shut up, bitch." He growls, and you whimper - your instincts telling you to protect your daughter inside you. But your hands are bound. 

He looks over his shoulder, "Send the fucking message. She's starting to bore me." And they walk away from you. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. 

"It's okay," You assured your unborn child. "Mommy's coming to save us." 

Karina's hand held her phone with a vice-like grip that she thought it would crack.

Her obsidian-colored eyes glower at the photo of your fearful state with the words: $30 Million typed below your image.

How dare they touch you, her wife, her equal. 

Cold wrath surges through her body as she puts down her phone and looks at her computer where it tells her your location. You were outside the city. She estimates that it could roughly be an hour-long drive.

A knock on her door snaps her from her reverie, "What is it?"

The door opens, revealing her secretary. "Chairwoman Yoo, the investors are ready."

The older woman stands gracefully from her seat and fixes the cufflinks of her blazer. "Have Miss Hwang take care of them." Karina's voice is eerily calm as she walks past the younger woman. Her secretary follows after her.

"What are you going to do, Chairwoman Yoo?"

The black-haired beauty looks over her shoulder. "I'm going to fetch my wife."

Pregnancy made you a heavy sleeper because moments later, you were awakened by Karina's soft hand caressing your baby bump while she cradled you. 

"Karina," You breathe. Impossible, you would've heard the screams of agony and fear. You crane your neck; your blood runs cold at the sight of their twitching bodies as they gurgle their blood. 

"Look at me, beloved." She coaxes, you obey and your eyes subtly widen. Karina's hair is tied in a high ponytail - she was presentable except for the blood splattered all over her suit and some on her face, decorating her cheeks like a demented blush. 

But she's beautiful regardless. 

"I'm sorry," You choke a sob as you hold onto her. "I tried, baby, I tried to-"

"Sh," She coaxes and pulls you closer to her, coaxing the side of your face against her soft chest as she cups the other side of your head. "It's okay, darling. It isn't your fault." 

"They're still alive, though." You whisper against her suit, and her chest rumbles with a dark chuckle. 

"I heard that dull blades are agonizingly painful than sharp ones. I will leave them to suffer for touching you and our baby, Y/N." 

With her other hand, she slips it under your knees, "Now hold tight," She stands up, "Our daughter's waiting for us at home." 

Karina effortlessly carries you to the exit of the warehouse. You take a good look at your dying captors as they lay in the pool of their blood, dull knives jutting from their bodies.

"Do you remember my first letter?" Your wife asks, forcing you to tear your gaze from the gang to answer her. 

"Of course," How could you forget? It was poetic. 

"I wrote about flowers and your love for them," She reminisces with a soft smile, a rare sight to see; you are blessed to see it. 

"And how you love peonies, especially pink ones, am I right, my love?" She looks at you. Her lips still form her rare, warm smile. 

"Yes," You sigh as you rest your right hand over her heart. 

"When we get home, you'll rest. And tomorrow, we will go to your favorite flower park so you can look at the flowers." 

You caught sight of a familiar Lincoln Continental. She opens the passenger door for you, and you allow her to guide you to the passenger seat. Karina lingers near the passenger door as she takes in your disheveled appearance. Your wife heaves a sigh, and takes your hand, her thumb rubbing the back of your palm soothingly.  

"Stay with me and Ariadne, Y/N." She comes closer. "I will give you everything. Everything is yours because I said so." 

She brings your hand to her mouth, where her lips ghost over your knuckles.

"Stay with us, and I will blanket you in flowers. I was born to smother you with flowers."

[calibabii21]

| told you so | l.mk, j.suh

pairing: bf!mark x gf!reader ft bestie!johnny

genre: fluff

warning(s): profanity..think that's it

a/n: inspired by a midnight snack

"Now what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" Johnny looks at the both of you, deadpanned.

You roll your eyes and exclaim impatiently, "what the fuck else do you do with cookies and milk? Eat it!"

His face turns up at you, giving you a stank expression, "excuse me, I'm gonna need you to dial it down. You just sat a plate and glass in front of me, with no words, and expect me to know what to do? This is a favor for YOU."

You can't help but laugh and shake your head at the Aquarius's sass. Okay, maybe you had been a bit bitchy for no reason. "Alright, fine. I apologize for snapping at you. Now can you eat the cookies??"

Mark finally chimes in with a chuckle of disbelief, much less frantic than you. "I just can't believe how big a deal you're making this-" but you place your index finger on his lips and shake your head, shushing him.

"This could make or break our relationship. Plus, I have a point to prove." You gesture to Johnny to proceed with the demonstration.

"You guys are so weird sometimes." But he continues on guiding the windmill shaped almond cookie to the glass of milk.

The anticipation builds as you lean further onto your toes before hopping with a shout, "YES!! I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU!!!" You're hopping around Mark in a circle as he sighs and facepalms.

"Alright, alright– you were right."

The taste tester looks up at you, startled and sighs exasperatedly, "Okay- what was even the point of this??"

You look at him with a proud smile, "Well, I had Mark try my favorite cookies the other day, and he ate them completely WRONG. He ate the rectangular part and THEN dipped the windmill. WHO DOES THAT!!"

Johnny looks at Mark with an amused look that lets everyone know he's never letting him live this down. "Oh come on Mark. Everyone knows you have to dip the windmill first and then dip the rectangle. I'm disappointed."

He fake tsks and winks at you, causing you to cross your arms with a faux pout. "Exactly. Thank you, John."

Rolling his eyes and smiling at your antics, Mark approaches you and offers a cute apology. "I'm sorry for eating the cookies incorrectly. I promise to eat yours right."

You hit his arm with a squeal and bust out laughing as Johnny cringes, "Alright, didn't need to hear that. There's my cue. Goodbye."

He rises from the island and walks to the door, "Thanks for wasting my time."