#feed his vanity

[vyncentevelyn]

Iseult freeing the artist even though she knows Astarion will disapprove so she can commission a portrait of him once they are in Baulder’s Gate.

[skunkes]

cant stop rhinking about that talon bald spot ask i need him to have a bald spot. Neow.

[baby-yongbok]

One Last Time

Ex-husband!Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✦ Genre: Soon to be exes to lovers [18+ MDNI] ✦ Summary: Petty claims of possession lead to one last night of pleasure.

✦ CW: Choking/ light breath play, pussy spanking [for a second], Unprotected sex [wrap it up party people], Size Kink [for a second], Oral (f rec.), Chan is... aggressive(??), Chan is referred to as Chris, He calls you a bitch once. only once. ✦A/N: Bang Chan made me do it. There's barely any plot in sight. I wrote this in 4 hrs in the middle of the night. Enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

✧ Masterlist ✧

It’s funny how things change. Day turns to night, hot to cold and love to pure seething hatred. 

Okay, maybe that’s a bit dramatic but you swear that that’s all you can feel swarming in your chest as you sit across from your soon to be ex-husband. 

He made a show of things at the settlement meeting this afternoon. He pushed back on every negotiation you made which has led you to where you are now. Each of you on your side of the bed with a pile of stuff littering the Egyptian cotton sheets that he just has to take with him. 

“There. Are you happy now?” You throw the last item on top of his pile and Chris stares down at the item with that damned smirk that you used to love. “Almost.”

He stands from the mattress, dark eyes on something behind you. He grabs it before you can turn. “I bought you this purse.”

The muffled thud of his hard bottom shoes against the carpet is all that you hear before he turns the black designer bag upside down. The contents clatter against his shoes, items rolling in different directions as you watch with a clenched jaw. 

He’s circling back to his side of the bed as you call upon the might of the gods to keep yourself calm. After being married for five years Chris has learned each and every one of your buttons and how hard he needs to press them just to tick you off. 

You’ve decided not to give him the satisfaction of making a scene. That’ll only feed his ego. Besides, he has buttons of his own, some that you installed yourself.

“Now I’m happy.” He drops the bag into his pile, smiling before you like he’d just gotten away with a million bucks. “Yeah?” 

Two can play that game. “I bought you that suit.” The smirk on blushed lips transfers to your painted ones as you stare over at him with arms crossed over your chest. 

“I’d like it back.” With an innocent bat of your lashes Chris smiles. It’s gone just as fast as it came and it doesn’t reach his eyes. He's pissed. 

“You’re fucking serious?” You hold your hand out to him. “Dead serious.”

Dark eyes are staring into darker ones as he holds your gaze. You’ve gotten used to him challenging you. You’ve gotten used to him being a petty asshole and you’ve learned how to play him at his own game. 

You watch as he pops the button of his suit jacket. Tongue in cheek while his fingers work to free him of the fabric. His eyes stay on yours as he peels the smoky threads from his shoulders. He shimmy’s it down thick arms, pulling at the cuffs until he’s free of it. He’s left in a skimpy t-shirt before you and you take the liberty of letting your eyes wander. 

“Want the pants too?” Chris throws the jacket over into your pile before his hands start to fiddle with the metal of his buckle. “Keep ‘em. They’re the nicest thing you own now.” 

He mumbles something incoherent under his breath, his hand comes up to rake through his hair as his eyes wander the space you used to share. His gaze stops at your vanity, busy eyes study your open jewelry box then look back to you. 

“I gave you those earrings.” He stalks towards the table, snatching the gold studs off of the surface and slipping them into his pocket. “And..” 

The muffled thud of his shoes is all you can hear over the thick tension pulsing around you. It’s all that you can hear over your own enraged heartbeat. “This necklace.” The clasp is snapped from around your neck before you can breathe a protest. You gasp at the sudden pressure of your chain being ripped from you. 

“What the fuck.” That smirk is stolen  back when he slips the jewelry into his pocket. He stands in front of you, barely an inch between you as your chests rise and fall in unison. “You’re fucking ridiculous.”

“Me?” He fakes a pout, blinking over at you. “I didn’t do anything” 

“Whatever, you got your stuff, get out.” You’re hissing at him, heart racing and blood bubbling with the annoyance you’ve been harboring for the length of this insufferable process. “I’m done with you.”

“Not so fast.” he says slowly, his hands finding your waist before you can step around him. You attempt to shrug off his grip and fail. “I bought you that too.” 

His eyes trail from your eyes to your lips. His tongue darts out to lick over his own as he stares. “That lipstick.” His eyes find yours again.

“Fuck off, Chris.” There’s a bite to your tone that makes him smile. He’s always loved a challenge. 

“I bought it.” He pulls you into him by your waist. Your body is flush with his and one of his hands quickly abandon the plush flesh to wrap around your neck. “ I wan’ it back. I think that’s fair.”

It’s dark on dark as he leans in, eyes searching each others frantically as Chris closes the gap and kisses you gently. It barely makes a sound, it’s feather light and quick. 

“You want it back?” You whisper against his lips and he nods. “Then I want the pants.” 

That fucking smirk pulls at his red stained lips and his mouth is on yours in an instant. It’s hot and messy, drowning out the previous softness. You grab at his arms, clawing down the flesh while his fingers dig into your hips. 

He licks into your mouth with a desperate groan as you turn your heads left and right, his tongue explores your mouth as he takes in the taste of you one last time. Your arms wrap around his neck as one of his hands grab at the swell of your ass.

 “Fuck.” He groans against you, stealing another kiss before you catch his bottom lip between your teeth. “Up.” With a firm smack on your ass you jump up and his hands find purchase on the curve of your bottom over your dress. 

You fall into a mess of tugging and moaning. The tension you once felt in your chest melts into pleasure as his hands wander your bareskin. He drops you onto the mattress, pushing the sorted piles out of the way and hovering over you in your ripped dress as you lay sprawled out on the sheets before him. 

“Gonna miss this.” Chris’ mouth is stained cherry red with your lipstick, it’s smeared over your cheeks and it compliments the bruises that he’s sucking into your skin. You bunch his shirt up his back, scratching along the way and leaving your own marks as you please. 

“Shut up, eat my pussy.” You pull him back with a fist full of his hair, he hisses a moan through clenched teeth as his own hand finds it’s way around your throat again. He squeezes this time. It’s just enough to have your eyes flutter shut, just enough to get you right where he wants you. 

“Can’t you be my good girl for one more night? Can’t you stop being a bitch for just a second, baby?” Chris leans down with a tighter squeeze. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, your nails digging into the flesh. “Did you already forget who the fuck I am?”

He loosens his grip giving you the satisfaction of that blissful rush before squeezing again. “Do you see how small you are?” He whispers, placing a kiss by your ear. “Do you feel how strong I am, baby? Don’t you know how this goes?”

A moan is all he gets as he pulls back to admire you. Your pretty mouth is parted with a silent moan as your thighs press together in a desperate attempt at cumming. “I should make you suck my cock.” His knee wedges between your legs and presses hard against your core. 

“I should fuck this pretty throat. I should get you back for being such a fucking brat through all of this.” The hand that was around his wrist scratches up his arm as he lets up again, letting the blood rush and giving you the dizzy feeling he knows you love. “I should -”

Your fingers wrap around his neck before he can finish his thought. Fierce eyes stare up into his as your other hand moves to unbutton his pants. “Just gimme what’s mine.”

Your hand slips into the waistband of his underwear as you pull him closer to you. “Wan’ my cock?” He moans at the soft feeling of your fingers wrapping around the tip. Eye’s fluttering shut as he attempts to take a breath against your grip.

 “‘S mine.” You lean up to his ear. “Isn’t it daddy?”

It was quick when he pinned you against the mattress. Both of your wrists were in his grip before he shifted them both to one hand to free his cock for you. “You’re a fucking tease. You’re so fucking predicatable, you know that?” He’s hissing as he fights with the fabric of his pants and your dress. 

“You want a reaction outta me, huh? Wanna rile me up, sweetheart?” With a shift of hands and a grunt he’s turning the two of you over. You follow him with a gasp, straddling his waist and sitting over his cock with your clothed cunt. “C’mon I’ll let you. Use me, get what you want.”

Your resolve sinks as his cock twitches against your core. Chris is lying beneath you looking like a sin personified and you feel compelled to indulge in his offer. He is still your husband after all. 

Your panties are pushed to the side in an instant. Chris’ wrists are pinned over his head while you grind your cunt over him. Sloppy sounds of you working over his leaking cock swirl in the hot air and Chris watches it all with drooping lids as you work against him. “Put it in, lemme watch it.”

You ignore him, slowing your grind to counter his request. “C’mon, baby, lemme feel you. I can make you feel so good. Let daddy fuck you, c’mon.” He watches you, head reeled back and moans dripping from your lips like drool as you  do as you please. 

“Fuckin’ tease.” He breaks free from your hold, hands wrapping around your waist and guiding the grind of your hips just as your clit catches on the head of his cock. “I asked nicely.” 

His cock catches at your entrance as he controls you. The push of him against your pussy has your mouth open in a silent scream as he bullies his cock into you. “You keep forgetting who I am, hm?” He sits up, landing a firm smack to your ass to match his brutal thrust as you settle in his lap.

“Chris, shit, just fuck me. Fuck me.” Your nails are in his back, drawing lines that could surely draw blood. He hisses at the pain, smiling with a bite of his tongue as he fucks up into you. 

His hips snap into yours, gradually picking up the pace until you’re falling apart against him. Chest to chest, you’re panting into each other. Littering the thick air with profanities as he splits you open on his dick. “Oh my fucking god, Chris. More. More more more, please. C’mon.”

“Take it.” He growls below you, allowing you to push him back against the mattress and ride his cock to your heart's content. “That’s it, take it. It’s yours, all yours.”

Your nails dig into his pecks, leaving marks on the flawless skin and you use him for leverage. The loud smack of skin against skin decorates the air accompanied by your moans.

 “Don’t hold back, baby. Enjoy that fucking ride.” He thrusts up into you, meeting you halfway. “Let loose, just like that.”.

Chris is rambling under you, mumbling under his breath and growling praises when he fucks deep into you. 

“Fuck me, fuck me harder. Wan’ it harder.” It’s dark on dark again. Hooded eyes stare into each other void of rage, the only priority is pleasure. You’re only here to take advantage. 

“Wan’ me harder?” He fucks into you, moaning at the squeeze you give. “Wan’ me deeper?”

With a lift of his hips Chris flips you over. “Be good for me, yeah? One last time, be a good fucking girl and lay on your back for me. Lemme eat this pretty pussy.” He rips your dress down your frame with a grunt. Your panties get the same treatment before he’s falling to his knees before you. 

“Gonna miss you on your knees.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, staring down at him behind a fucked out haze. “Lookin’ so pretty for me with a mouth full of my cunt.”

With a smirk Chris licks a wet stripe from your hole to your clit. He swirls his tongue around the bud, sucking it between red stained lips and flicking it. Your head drops back against the mattress with a loud moan. Your hands comb through and grab at his damp dark locks but he quickly repositions you to hold yourself open for him. 

“Watch me eat it.” He reaches up, brushing your chin with his fingertips. He lays a flat wet lick to your pussy, hooded eyes staring up into yours. “Eyes on me. Eyes on daddy.”

He spreads your cunt with his fingers, holding you open for him while he spits down onto your clit. He collects it all on his tongue, licking it over the nub before spitting it back. Sloppy slurps against a drooling pussy is all that fills the room. “Daddy, please, wanna cum on your cock.”

He pulls back with a pop, spitting back down onto your cunt. He watches it drip down to your hole, following the stream with his fingers to press it into you. 

“You wan’ me deep right?” His middle and pointer fuck you open as he coos. “Want me to spread this tiny cunt on my dick?” You’re moaning. Panting confirmations and whining pathetically into the air. 

“Then hold it.” He kisses your clit, sucking it in then releasing. “Don’t cum.”

“Please.” You moan a plea, unraveling little by little with each suck and flick of your clit. His fingers fuck you open, curling into your soft spot and pushing you further towards the edge that you’re trying to avoid. 

You could just cum. You could just take what he’s giving you instead of following the rules but it’s so good like this. He’s so good like this. You miss him giving you what you want.

“Chris, ‘m gonna cum for you. I can’t. Please jus’ gimme.” He blinks up at you with pussy drunk eyes as his kiss bitten lips move against you despite your begging. “Daddy, please. I wan’ your cock.”

"Don't cum for me yet" he speaks against your cunt before licking a wet kiss up to your clit. 

"I can't, Chris. I can't, I can't, I'm gonna cum." Your eyes are glued to the way he licks up and down your swollen pussy. Taunting you with the skill he's gained over the years. He's pushing your buttons again.  

"Daddy, daddy, daddy, please you have to let me. You’re gonna make me cum. Your mouth, your fucking mouth, please let me cum."

You're babbling, you know you are. You’re slipping through the cracks quickly and you can’t do a thing to stop it. There’s no going back and Chris knows it but he still smacks the inside of your thigh. Warning you to be good for him and let him build you up a bit more before you take his cock again.

"Don't." He kisses your clit. "Cum." He sucks the bud into his mouth and swirls his tongue over it with a moan. He's a madman if he thinks you could survive that. 

"Fuck, 'm cumming. I'm cumming, 'm sorry." You’re shaking, your nails dig into your thighs as you keep yourself open for him.  "Cumming, 'm cumming, I can't stop cumming, I can't stop cumming."

He moans into you as he laps up every drop of arousal that you're giving him. He commits your sweet taste to memory with one final swipe of his tongue before he’s kissing up your stomach. 

His lips trail up the valley of your breasts. He licks over the mound, sucking your nipple into his mouth and swirling it with a hum. Once he’s satisfied he moves to your shoulder, kissing and licking his way over to your collarbone then finally his lips are back on yours.

You’re gasping as you tremble through your orgasm, aftershocks wash over you as you taste yourself on his tongue. Chris smirks, whispering against your lips. "No one else will make you feel this good, baby. No one else will make you cum like this.”

The head of his cock slips through your dripping folds, catching against your clit before he’s pushing in. “This is mine. All mine." He sinks in to the hilt then slowly drags his cock back against your walls. 

“This is what I want.” He straightens up, looking down at your pretty face contorted in pleasure. 

“All of that other shit doesn’t matter.” He moans, holding your thighs back to get a perfect view of you.  “I wanna watch it. Wanna see the way my pussy opens up for me. ‘S mine, isn’t it, baby? Tell me this shit is mine.”

“Yours, it’s yours. Fuck, ‘s fucking yours, please, you’re gonna make me cum.” Chris slows his strokes, grinding deep into you and dipping his hips to hit the soft spot that turns you into putty for him.

You’re drooling at the feeling. Tears threaten to fall from the corners of tired eyes as you watch the way he admires your cunt. The corner of his bottom lip is tugged and held firm between his teeth as he fights back his moans so that he can hear yours clearer.

“Shit, You’re gonna make me cum. Gonna make me fucking cum, make daddy cum.” The precise snap of his hips grows sloppy as the seconds pass. His once slow grind is now erratic. He’s purely seeking pleasure, sinking deeper into the haze with every drag. 

“Fuck, squeeze me. Yeah, just like that, that’s my girl. Pretty fucking girl on my cock.” Each thrust is met with a slap to your clit. You jolt at the contact, back arching off of the mattress. “Cum for me. Cum on my dick.” 

With one more flick of your clit you're trembling beneath him. Your cunt sucks him in and he takes it all with a loud moan. Chris lets your legs fall so that he can hover over you. He holds himself up on his elbows as he kisses you through your climax. You moan into it, shaking with each thrust and twitch of his cock. 

“Shit, that’s good. So good, baby, ‘m gonna cum.” The frantic bucking of his hips against yours comes to a halt as he falls apart. 

Moans tumble forward as he does. His muscles tense and his eyes roll back as he drives himself deep into you, filling you with every drop of himself that he has to offer. Chris collapses on top of you, his weight pinning you in place. 

You pant below him, coming down from your high as aftershocks wash over him. He kisses your neck, breathing heavily into your skin. 

“Now.” He pulls back slightly, gaze catching yours. “Now I’m happy.”

Thank You For Reading! Please Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕

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[holybibly]

𝔐𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔇𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔯 𝔐𝔞𝔫 | Hongjoong x reader

Pairing: Rich adult Hongjoong x reader Summary: You've always had expensive taste. So when you meet a gorgeous older man in a bar with the most ravenous feline eyes and diabolical smile, you can't resist the urge to taste him. You let him take you back to his place and give you the most unforgettable night of your life.  Genre / Au / Trope : Smut, S2L, One Night Stand!AU, Luxurious! AU Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI Word count: 9.2k Warnings: Older Hongjoong (36)/younger reader (20) unprotected sex, degrading, pet names, size kink, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, rough oral, power play, praise kink, face fucking, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, and more.

net: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity @newworldnet A|N: It seems we need someone older, little bunnies, don't you think? God, I just love this. I'm so happy to be immersed in the luxurious and unbelievably dirty atmosphere of wealth and sex again. And Hongjoong has been on my mind a lot lately. So, bunnies, here I am, feeding you delicious and vulgar things, just the way we like it. ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 Part I @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 Part II @unholywriters @hey-syia @hrts4nohee @vnessalau @mlink64 @tessakleine @fr34k4c1dr41n @313hwa @lilyuwon @tiziamattaga @un-knew @wiaxul @siyah-staryis @seonghwasbbgirl

It was not like you at all to agree to go home with some random guy from the bar that you'd just met.

But Kim Hongjoong wasn't just any guy; no, he was an adult, absolutely gorgeous, rich man with a hundred diamond-carat Rolex glittering on his wrist and a devilish grin on his scarlet sensual lips. The kind of lips you want to feel against your skin. 

Hongjoong was no ordinary guy whose face you could barely remember the morning after a wild night out. He was the man you'd always dreamed of, the man you'd always wanted, and frankly, the man every girl wanted. An absolute wet dream, dressed in a black Armani suit. 

All night long, you felt the weight of the dark, predatory gaze of his feline eyes, the intensity of which burned through your skin, even through the dress you wore tonight. The fleeting interest you had in each other had grown into something much more. And now he was toying with you like a hunter with his prey. But in your case, you wanted to be caught by this man, perhaps too much for your own good. 

He was expensive in every way—his clothes, his looks, his behaviour—and you were desperate for a taste of this expensive luxury. You wanted to have a taste of him on your tongue. You wanted to pour his luxurious nature into crystal bottles and drink it down as he fucked you into oblivion. And as you looked at him in the semi-darkness of the bar, it was clear to you that this man was going to be quite unsweet, and that fact only turned you on even more. 

But it wasn't just that. It was everything about him that fueled your lust and made you feel the wet heat between your legs. 

There was everything about him that spoke of experience and authority, a power that no pretty boy in your philosophy class could ever hope to possess. He was mature, dominant, and rough around the edges. And you wanted nothing more than for him to be the one who fucked you tonight. You wanted to be with someone older, someone who knew how to treat you the right way. 

As you walked back to the bar after a quick smoke with a friend, you hadn't expected to find yourself face-to-face with him. The scattered yellowish light from the street lamps played in his platinum blonde hair, and it was at that moment that you knew you'd do anything to get what you wanted so badly.

Not your league, not your age, not your style—he was your golden ticket to heaven. So when he offered to take you back to his place, you didn't think twice about immediately agreeing. 

He smelled like money, sex, whisky, and luxury, and this intoxicating mixture of flavours invaded all of your senses, causing your head to spin a little and warm moisture to build up between your thighs. Your little game of seduction was over; you were the ones who initiated the hunt, but he was the winner, and now you were completely in his power, ready to be on your knees in total submission. 

As soon as his dark, feline eyes met your big, shining ones and demanded your full attention, you fell into his trap. He leaned in close to your face, invading your personal space completely, and lifted your chin up with his long forefinger so that all you had to do was look at him. You couldn't help but notice how long and thick his lashes were, framing the onyx gleam of his irises, and how sensual his plump, slightly parted lips were, now curved into a seductive grin. 

There was a sexy, beautiful maturity in the sharp features of his face. None of the puppy tenderness you were so used to seeing in boys your age. It was so new and so damn attractive that, for a moment, you were left breathless by the wave of excitement that was washing over you. And the devilish spark that danced in the depths of his eyes didn't help you at all; if he were to keep looking at you like that, you would have turned into a puddle of lust right where you were standing.

"Is there something that you want from me, kitten?" His voice is hoarse and sultry, like pure gold drenched in poison. It has a dangerous, demonic tone, is full of the most sinful promises imaginable, and it only attracts you more. Like moths to a flame. The air between you crackles with tension and desire, and you can barely utter a word.

"I wanted..." You mutter—another thing that's completely unlike you. But you can't gather your thoughts as you stare at the breathtakingly handsome man in front of you. Never before in your life have you felt such a strong desire for any guy as you do for this man at this very moment. 

Oh God. 

The aura around him is so dominant, and you swallow in anticipation. All of your self-confidence evaporates completely as soon as the pointed tip of his tongue slides across his plump lower lip, leaving it wet and glistening with saliva. You can feel yourself starting to sweat; you're so hot and so needy right now. 

A storm is about to break, and you want to be right in its midst.

"What's the matter, kitten? Did the cat eat your tongue?" His words were accompanied by a wicked twist of a grin on his face. He was amused, to be sure, but there was something else dancing in the depths of his slanted eyes beyond that. It was an emotion that you could not decipher, but something told you that it could hardly be described as holy. 

This man was clearly aware of the overwhelming effect he was having on you. And judging by the expression on his face, it gave him an indescribable amount of pleasure. 

"Hmm... perhaps you would like something to drink? With me...". God, you have made such a fool of yourself. The man's grin at your words was just that much bigger. He leaned in even closer to you, his wet lips touching the soft, sensitive skin on your ear with every word he said. 

"How tempting that sounds, my kitten. But I think I can offer you something much better. How about I take you back to my house, and you let me drink the champagne right off your pretty, sexy body? Then I'm going to fuck you till dawn until you're stupid and obedient to me. Would you want that, kitty?" He purred in your ear as he ran his finger down the length of your neck until it dipped into the deep neckline of your cleavage.

You let out a low, pitiful moan as everything he does sends signals straight down the nerves that control your cunt. A palpable shiver runs down your spine, and you can feel your pussy clenching at nothing as his words take shape in your mind. The image of that tongue and those sinful lips gliding over your body as he licks off the sparkling golden champagne that you were sure would be obscenely expensive and taste exquisite is practically making you come without even touching yourself. 

Without hesitating for a second, you nod in agreement with everything he has told you, and soon you find yourself sitting in the leather seat of his car, with the possessive touch of his hand on your bare thigh. As his fingers, adorned with massive silver rings, dig into your soft flesh, you swallow hard as you see the veins under his skin swell and pulsate. 

You want to spread your legs wider and let him see how wet and ready you are for him, but you bite your lip, holding back the urge to retain some semblance of your dignity. Boys your age have never made your body react like this before, and it almost frightens you, but at the same time, it makes you want this man all the more. 

 It doesn't take long to get to his house, but for you, it feels like forever. During the drive, you find out that the gorgeous man's name is Kim Hongjoong and that he's a music producer, which makes you wonder how talented his fingers are at handling pussy. Aren't all musicians pretty damn good at fingering? Hongjoong is going to be no exception; you can be sure of that.

That's the only thought that stays in your head the whole time you drive out, as the feel of his hot touch on your bare skin literally melts your brain and makes you so soft and pliable for him.

The air in the car is becoming unbearably heavy with the excess sexual energy, and you are on the verge of choking to death. Just as you're thinking about starting to beg him to fuck you right there in the back seat of his car, he lets you know that you've arrived. 

Hongjoong's house—luxurious, expensive, and modern, with lots of glass and metal—was a complete reflection of his personality and style. A marble-tiled swimming pool with soft lighting and a green maze garden lay behind the house. As expected, Hongjoong had exceptionally refined and expensive tastes in everything.

You were standing in front of the huge picture window in the master bedroom of the house, and your eyes were fixed on the glowing water of the swimming pool. It helped to ease your nerves now that you were alone with Hongjoong, far away from the prying eyes and the noise of the city. He slowly approaches you like a big cat of prey and hands you a tall glass of sparkling champagne. As you stare at the dancing particles of air and liquid, Hongjoong's earlier words come back to you, and you bite your lower lip to keep yourself from moaning out loud.

His hot breath hits the sensitive skin of your neck as his strong arms wrap around you from behind. Fingers adorned with massive silver rings dig into the soft curves of your body with great force. Behind you, Hongjoong is moaning in satisfaction as he squeezes you even tighter into his arms.

"Well, hello, my little kitty." He purrs sensually into your ear before one of his hands moves the hair from your shoulder, just to leave a long, wet, open-mouthed kiss on your skin. 

Hongjoong's hands slide down your body in a possessive way until they find their place on your ample, luscious thighs. He presses you harder and harder against his body, and even through the tight fabric of his designer suit, you can feel the embossed muscles of his chest and the tightness of his abs. His fingers start to knead your thighs roughly; his grip is so tight that you're sure you'll be bruised in the morning, and in fact, you wanted him to leave as many of his marks on you as possible.

"You should try the champagne, my princess; you were so eager to have a drink with me. Weren't you?" His voice is pure darkness wrapped in velvet as he purrs against your skin. The seductive huskiness of his words sends shivers down your spine, and you tilt your head to the side to give him a little more access to kiss you. Hongjoong mooed contentedly and pulled you closer to him so that his hips were now pressed up against your plump bum. Oh, fuck. This position gives you the chance to feel his cock very clearly; it's hard, big, and thick in its girth, and you know that it's going to stretch you out in the most glorious way.

"Yes, that's what I wanted, sir." It's an experiment; you're just testing the dynamic between the two of you. You whimper as his teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of your neck, and it's a sign to you that you've hit the mark. 

You definitely do not want to disappoint Hongjoong, so you obediently follow his order and bring the champagne glass to your lips, taking a little sip. Your head spins slightly as the exquisite taste of the expensive alcohol tingles your tongue. 

"Such an obedient kitten, just the way I like it." His praise makes you feel even more sticky and wet in your panties. You've never been praised sexually before, and you've only guessed at your penchant for being praised and acknowledged during sex. You've always had a desire to learn more about this kinky part of your nature, but you've never had the opportunity to do so.

But it seems tonight will be the night. 

Hongjoong's hot, soft lips continue to plant passionate kisses on your neck and shoulders. Your eyes roll with pleasure as he pulls the skin between his lips, leaving a purple hickey. He slips a finger under the strap of your tight dress and begins to slowly slide it down, exposing your plump tits. 

"Mmm, you're so tender, kitty." The man says as he touches your breasts with his fingertips, and from this lightest touch, hot desire runs through your veins, and you unconsciously rub your arse on his cock, making Hongjoong let out the sexiest moan deep in his throat.

As your dress fell to your thighs and you stood half-naked in front of the huge window in Hongjoong's bedroom, your nipples tensed against the cool air in the room. You were displayed like a sparkling diamond, belonging to him alone now, and knowing that made your heart beat faster. 

So far from the city and behind the high fence of his mansion, you had your doubts that anyone would be able to see you in such an inappropriate way, but you had the wish that it was possible. You wanted all the boys who'd been in love with you to be able to see this adult, breathtakingly handsome man fuck you so stupidly and so hard that none of them would ever be able to do it. 

Hongjoong's hands cupped your boob in a possessive way, holding their heavy weight in the palms of his hands before he began to massage the soft flesh roughly. The silver of his jewelled rings scratched lightly across your skin, leaving reddened marks. Your breasts had always been quite sensitive, and you knew that you could easily come just by stimulating your nipples, but all your previous boyfriends had never paid much attention to that. But Hongjoong, hell, this man knew exactly how to treat you—how to make you whimper and beg.

"Please... Sir..." You moan loudly and eagerly as his fingers run expertly over your sensitive, swollen nipples, and the wetness between your legs becomes more and more intense. Your juices are seeping through the thin lace of your panties and are literally dripping out of your pussy, and you are desperate for Hongjoong to fill the aching void inside of you with his thick cock as quickly as possible. Your hand that holds the champagne glass is trembling and threatens to spill the golden sparkling liquid all over the marble floor, and Hongjoong notices it with a dark chuckle. 

"Look at you, Princess; you're trembling all over. My sweet little kitty is so sensitive." His tongue sticks out to lick the long stripe on your neck, and you gasp in surprise as the soft touch is replaced by his sharp teeth, branding your skin. 

But it's only a distraction, because the next second you're backed against the cold window glass, and Hongjoong's sensual lips finally meet yours in a scalding kiss. Oh shit. He growls in a low voice against your lips, one of his hands wrapped roughly around your neck, squeezing it with palpable pain, and the sound that comes out of you is something between a sob and a moan. Those soft lips are pressed tightly against yours in a kiss that is hungry and cruel. His mouth is insistent and demanding; every movement is a sign of experience and power - he doesn't cajole you - Hongjoong takes what is rightfully his.

His thumb burrows into the skin of your neck, turning the touch into a rough grip, and his tongue winds between your lips, compelling you to open your mouth for him. 

Once you let it in, you shudder at the sensual, hot sensation as Hongjoong's tongue runs over your palate and your teeth, licking the inside of your cheeks and wrapping it around your tongue like a snake. God, you've never been kissed like this before. Usually it's a slobbering mess with lipstick smeared all over your face, but Hongjoong clearly knows how to make your knees buckle with just one kiss, and you're afraid to imagine what else that sinful mouth is capable of. 

Now you're absolutely sure he's going to fuck your brains out. 

You moan with wanton need as he presses his fingers harder and harder against your throat, and the glass of champagne slips from your hand and shatters into hundreds of tiny pieces of crystal, glittering with rainbow-coloured tears in the dimly lit bedroom. 

"Hongjoong..." The moaning of his name was so desperate, so needy, and so full of lust and desire.

"Damn it, kitten. I love it when you moan my name, but I love it even more when you address me properly. Will you be able to do that for me, Princess?" 

"Yes, Sir, I will." 

Hongjoong kisses you with renewed fury, biting your lips almost to the point of blood. He's so passionate, so unique, tasting like dark chocolate with red pepper, and you want more and more; right now this gorgeous man is licking your mouth with his tongue and literally pushing it down your throat. 

He kisses you like he's dying of thirst, and you're the only way to satiate that vital need. The saliva is running down your chin; it's wet and dirty, but you can't stop. You don't want to stop. Hongjoong's tongue practically fucks you in the mouth. Your hands reach for the collar of his designer shirt and start to unbutton it hastily. He laughs against your lips as you whimper, frustrated at not being able to make it right. Your fingers are trembling too much with excitement and impatience. 

"Shhh, kitten, let me help you." He pulls his hands away from your body just so he can take off his jacket and shirt, tossing the expensive designer stuff aside with a dismissive air as if it were completely worthless, but the embroidered name labels you notice tell you otherwise.

Your touches on each other grow more desperate by the second; his skin is smooth and soft under your fingers, but underneath you can feel the strain of muscles that have been trained for years. This man is pure porn, as sexy as Hell itself, and you want to burn up in his flames without leaving a trace behind. 

"Please... Sir." You catch your breath as Hongjoong's hand wraps around your neck once more. You are completely unaware of what you're asking him to do. The excitement and the lust are making your brain look like mush and are setting your skin on fire. 

The only thing that matters to you right now is that Hongjoong keeps touching you. You want to feel him all over you. You feel like he's got every cell in your body burning, and only his touch can make you feel better.

At your pitiful plea, Hongjoong's feline eyes seemed to grow even darker and more predatory than they could have been, and that should have frightened you, but instead, lust coursed through your veins and a palpable shiver ran through your body. He was looking at you as if he wanted to eat you alive, and you were more than happy to let him do it. 

"Oh, my beautiful little kitten. Are you going to be an obedient little girl for me?" Your pussy clenched, and you nodded your head affirmatively in response to his sultry purr.

"Yes, I will be an obedient girl for you, Sir." His scarlet, sensual lips curve insidiously into a wide, devilish grin as he kneels before you. Hongjoong slides the soft fabric of your dress down your legs until you are standing in front of him in nothing more than a lace thong. He wraps his arm around your ankle and then tosses it over his shoulder as well. 

For some reason, this pose feels so obscene and dirty to you, and you blush to a deep red, especially when your gaze falls on his face. There is something unjustly handsome about his features, and it almost makes you want to cry. God, this man was beyond your comprehension. 

Your hands get tangled in his platinum, perfectly styled hair, and you pull lightly on the soft strands as Hongjoong bites down on the soft skin on the inside of your thigh before his sharp nose nestles up against your pussy and he takes a slow, deep breath. 

"God, your scent is so sweet, kitten." He breathed out. The sound of his voice caressed your skin like liquid silk. "But I bet your cunt tastes even sweeter." His dark, hungry eyes look up at you through long, fluffy lashes. 

For the second time that night, you find yourself caught in his feline gaze, watching in fascination as Hongjoong leans his gorgeous face forward and licks a long, tantalising strip down the length of your cunt through the thin lace of your thong. The indirect touch of his tongue on your throbbing, swollen clit makes you let out a loud whimper, your knees almost buckling at the slight caress.

"I... sir..." You feel, rather than see, the curve of his beautiful, soft lips in a sly grin before he repeats his action, once again running his tongue along your clothed slit, this time deliberately flicking the sharp tip of his tongue over your clit. You tremble under the skilled touch of his mouth on your warm pussy as Hongjoong continues rubbing his tongue against the lacework of your thong, leaving thick and viscous trails of saliva on them. 

"Look at you, kitten; your cunt is soaking wet. You're so juicy and so ready for me. Tell me, princess, what do you want from me?" Hongjoong whispers and pushes your panties aside. His fingers spread your labia, allowing the cool air of the room to cool your hot and sticky flesh slightly. Hongjoong's feline eyes are predatorily narrowing at the sight of your small, throbbing clit and the way your tight hole is trembling with the need to be filled with something. "Come on, kitty, tell me what you want so badly. Don't be shy." Hongjoong's sensual lips are parted by his heavy breathing, and he swallows hard as he sees your hole clenching at nothing and spurting a thick, viscous drop of your sweet essence. Damn it, it's literally dripping off of you. 

He rolls his eyes and moans lewdly; his Adam's apple swayed, and the veins in his neck swelled with tension. The sound that he's making is almost pornographic. His hard-on twitches painfully as it presses hard against the fabric of his trousers, but Hongjoong ignores it for the moment.

"Hongjoong..." You whimper. Your whimper turns into a loud squeal as his fingers dig roughly into the tender flesh of your thigh, leaving stinging red marks from his nails on your skin, and he lets out a deep growl that you can feel in the folds of your cunt. It makes you realise what you've done, and you immediately try to correct it. "Sir, I'm so sorry. I'll be better."

"That's right, kitty, you should behave better, and I'm still waiting for your answer." Hongjoong's hot breath flows around your sensitive pussy with every word he says.

"Your mouth...I want your mouth and your tongue, sir...please..." Your thighs are trembling a little from all the attention that this luxurious man is giving you at the moment. "Please, sir, use your mouth. I want you to eat my cunt."

"Oh, my beautiful, precious girl, I promise you. I will take good care of you. So good that you won't even remember your name." Hongjoon purrs in a velvety voice as his dark and hungry eyes devour your pretty pink cunt. You look like an exquisite delicacy to him, and he is eager to taste your juicy sweetness.

You sob pitifully in response to his words, your body obviously enjoying the way he is addressing you as more and more viscous slime oozes out of your sensitive pussy. God, what this man is doing to you now is nothing compared to any of the men you've ever fucked in your life.

You can't hold back a loud, prolonged moan as he pulls you closer to his handsome face, pressing your soaking wet cunt to his greedy, scarlet lips. The tip of his tongue slides expertly between your folds before he runs it along the delicate edges of your small, tight hole, tasting the flesh of your cunt and the nectar-sweetness of your juices. 

"Fuck, kitten," Hongjoon growled. "The taste of your pussy is divine to me." The man doesn't hesitate to plunge his gorgeous face even deeper, literally burying himself between your thighs, his sharp nose poking at your clit as he hungrily lavishes on your aching, oozing hole. 

"Sir!" You squeal as the searing heat of his gorgeous mouth envelops your plump little pussy in its entirety.

Hongjoong pulled the small, reddened bud into his mouth and began to suck it roughly, milking your overly sensitive bunch of nerves with his gorgeous lips. When you sob and squirm in his grip, he lets go of your clit with a loud pop and instead licks another long strip along your throbbing cunt. 

He moans wantonly and somehow desperately into your vagina, leaving dirty French kisses on your folds and making them even wetter and stickier, smearing your mucus and saliva all over your little mound. You pitifully moan as you begin to wiggle your hips in time with the relentless movements of his jaw, tugging at the thick strands of his platinum hair. 

He sucks, licks, and caresses your pussy and brings you to a state of absolute bliss. Hongjoong is getting drunk on you and is completely intoxicated by your beautiful, creamy cunt.

You gasp loudly as Hongjoong spits a thick lump of saliva onto your pussy and you can feel some of the liquid running down your folds. He spoiled your cunt completely. 

"I could eat that little cunt of yours all day long, kitten. You have such a delicious taste." Hongjoong moaned as his tongue licked greedily along the long strip from your crotch all the way to your clit. The taste of your sweet, creamy cunt on his tongue was practically driving him mad, and he let out a low, sultry purr that vibrated all the way to your centre. 

It wasn't the first time someone had buried their face between your thighs, but damn, Hongjoong was something else.

Your sweet, pitiful moans and wheezes were music to his ears and only served to encourage him even more to continue his caresses. You sang so beautifully to him, trembling and wriggling in the firm, rough grip of his hands while his soft and experienced tongue flicked and fluttered over your sensitive clit. 

Fuck, it felt so good—so damn good—that your vision became blurred with pleasure and sudden tears on the edges of your eyes, and your breathing became intermittent and heavy. You could already feel the knot of hot pleasure tightening inside of you; damn it, you were so close to cum.

Hongjoong wrapped his hot, wet mouth around your clitor once more and began to suck on the swollen, throbbing bud of yours, alternating between rough and gentle sucking. 

God, this man definitely had the most amazing 'tongue technique' that you could ever have imagined. Hongjoong lifted his head for a moment, and the sight of his stunningly handsome, mature face almost brought you to a state of ecstasy: his lips swollen from the incessant caresses, all shiny and glassy with your excitement, feline eyes unfocused as if he were drunk, long eyelashes fluttering, saliva running down his cheeks and chin, mixing with your sticky sweetness. 

It was overwhelming, and the pleasure shot through you like a bolt of lightning. 

"Oh my God!" You let out a loud groan, throwing your head back and banging it lightly against the glass, but you don't even pay any attention to it; you are too engrossed in Hongjoong. 

"Oh my kitten, that's right, you can call me God." Hongjoong laughed fiercely, and then you felt the tip of his tongue sliding into your small, narrow hole, and he started caressing your silky walls. 

And then everything goes white for you. The stars explode behind your eyes, your hips shake uncontrollably as they clench around Hongjoong's head, your hands pull harder on the soft platinum strands of his hair, and the loud moaning of his name flies from your parted lips like a prayer song.

"Please, Hongjoong, don't stop. I'm begging you; don't stop." And he doesn't stop, prolonging your orgasm with quick and skillful movements of his tongue. He's lapping up your cum like it was the world's most exquisite dessert, smacking his lips and greedily swallowing all the viscous, sweet liquid that flows into his insatiable, devilish mouth.

You look so ethereal as you spray your sweet juices all over his face, and something deep down inside of him wants to feel it all over again.

"Please! Hongjoong..." You are begging him, but you don't know exactly what it is you are asking him to do. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, almost painful.

The tears have begun to flow freely down your face, leaving inky trails of mascara and shimmering glitter. Hongjoong thinks you resemble him a freshly bloomed flower, and when you come again, he can't help but want to see you underneath him—wriggling, heated, exhausted from hours of endless, animalistic, rough sex, cum on his cock again and again. Fuck, he'd milk every last drop out of you. 

When you feel like you're about to pass out from the overstimulation, Hongjoong pulls away from your cunt. He lifts his dark, slanting eyes to you and licks his swollen, scarlet lips hungrily, using his tongue to pick up what remains of your slime. But it doesn't help much. The clear, sticky liquid runs down his chin and drips onto his chest. How does this man still look so luxurious and expensive, even after licking your cunt like his life depended on it?

Hongjoong plants a last hot kiss on the inside of your thigh before taking your leg off his shoulder and standing up. His hands are around you at once, dragging you against his powerful body. His skin is so smooth and so hot, and you have no hesitation in telling him that you'd like to lick him from head to toe.

"I want to taste you. Are you going to let me do that, sir?" 

The corners of his lips lift, turning his smile into a true predatory grin, and everything inside of you clenches and quivers with a sharp anticipation that tingles your skin like shards of broken crystal.

"Sweet little kitty, aren't you the most precious thing in the world?" He says. Hongjoong takes your hand in his and presses it against his hot, thick erection. Fuck, even through the tight designer fabric of his trousers, you can feel how amazing and delicious his cock is going to be. Oh, he's going to totally destroy your cunt. "Would you like to taste my cock, Princess?" His eyebrow lifts in a teasing manner, and your fingers tighten on his erection. 

"Yes, sir, I do. I want to taste your cock so badly. I'm such a slut for you. Give me the feel of your cock on my tongue. Please, sir." You look up at him through your lashes, running your tongue over your plump lower lip and his cock twitching under your palm.

"If you ask me so sweetly, kitten, who am I to refuse you? Just say the word, and I'll have the whole fucking world crawling at your feet."

He pulls you over to the luxurious bed, which is clearly too big to spend your nights alone, and makes himself comfortable on the edge of the soft mattress, pulling you down gently until you're kneeling between his legs. You spread your legs a little bit so that even in this position, Hongjoong can enjoy the sight of your glistening, dripping cunt. Traces of his saliva and your juices cover your silky folds and make him want to sink his face between your thighs once more. 

Hongjoong throws his head back and lets out a deep, velvety moan, and your eyes sparkle as you see his gloriously sculpted abs tense and his Adam's apple tremble, and you want to leave hundreds of marks on that gorgeous, seductive throat. Belatedly, you notice the "NO1LIKEME" tattoo on his arm and think it suits him damn well. 

"Come on, princess, show me what you can do with that beautiful, slutty mouth of yours." He says this as he unbuckles his belt. 

You move impatiently closer to him as he finally pulls his cock out of his trousers, your eyes widening to see this thick, velvety length right in front of you. The head of his cock was reddened and swollen, and you swallowed hard from this vew. God, his cock is gorgeous, with thick, juicy veins covering the hard length, which is glistening wet from the pre-cum that is leaking out of it. 

Your mouth fills with saliva, and you run your fingertips lightly over the entire length of his cock before you dip your head down to lick the wet head. The taste of him reminds you of the champagne you drank earlier and tingles your tongue. Outrageously expensive and ultra vulgar. You hunger for more. Your parted lips press against his cock, wrapping it in your hot breath as you run it down the length to the base.

Your tongue gives him a kitten's lick at the sensitive spot where his cock meets up with his heavy, cum-filled balls. The moan he makes as he does so goes straight to your pussy and your silky walls clench around nothing. The soft skin tingles under your tongue and makes his cock bounce up against your pretty face, and the sight of you licking his balls almost brings him over the edge. 

Fuck, Hongjoong swears to himself that he's going to fucking destroy you. 

"I see my kitten knows how to handle a cock, eh? But can you please me, Princess?" He hisses through his teeth as you wrap the palm of your hand around his cock and slap it against your protruding tongue a couple of times. Each time his cock pulls away from the soft surface of your slippery appendage, long strands of saliva stretch from your mouth to his glans.

"I'll try, sir..." The look in your wide, open eyes is completely innocent as you begin to slowly suck him into your hot and deliciously moist mouth. Hongjoong's dark cat-like eyes are fixed on your glistening ruby-red lips as they stretch around his thick dick in the most beautiful way. 

The way you tilt your head and relax your jaw, allowing Hongjoong's massive cock to slide deeper into your throat, makes him crumple the silk sheet in his hand with such force that the knuckles on his fingers turn white. His other hand comes to rest on the back of your head and presses firmly, causing you to take his cock even deeper into your mouth. Your eyebrows furrow as the swollen head rests against the back of your throat, eliciting a guttural moan from him. 

Unconsciously, you swallow, allowing Hongjoong's cock to slide easily down your throat, the veiny length of it stretching along the quivering walls of your larynx. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple jiggling to get your attention, and you repeat the motion, swallowing again, letting his cock slide deeper and deeper until your face is almost resting against his pubic. 

"Fuck, that, my good girl." Hongjoong gasps, watching the blissful expression on your face as his entire cock basks sweetly between the tight, sticky walls of your throat. On your neck, he can easily see the outline of his length bulging beneath your thin skin. His fingers get tangled in your hair as he begins to pull your head up and down, fucking your mouth and causing saliva to drip from your lips onto your chin and down his thighs.

You moan around his cock; the heavy, hot weight on your tongue makes you feel so good. You've always loved having a cock in your mouth, but there was something about the fact that Hongjoong's cock was the one that was destroying your throat at that very moment that just made your head spin. 

"Fuck, I haven't had a good cocksucker like you in a long time. Most girls start to whimper and choke, but you're just made for sucking cocks. Aren't you, pussycat?" Hongjoong said mockingly, his thrusts getting harder and harder as the most disgusting and lewd words poured out of his mouth like sweet, seductive poison.

You moaned affirmatively, agreeing with what he said, your wet, silky throat clinging to his cock with each powerful thrust. An almost evil laugh erupted from Hongjoong's chest as you made a strangled, gurgling sound around his cock after a particularly strong thrust of his hips. His balls slapped against your chin with a sticky, vulgar sound.

He ran his other hand through his platinum hair, brushing the silky strands away from his eyes as he tilted his head back.

"I can't wait to spoil your cunt. I want you to smear your cream all over my cock, or are you a squirter, pussycat?" He purred, and you fell into even more bliss from the vibrations of his golden voice on your skin. 

The thought of him stretching out your cunt on his cock made your exhausted brain boil with euphoria. You let his cock out of your mouth with a loud slutty pop, saliva and pre-sperm running in long strands from your tongue to the tip of his cock. 

"For you, I'll do both, sir." 

"Could you be any more precious, Princess?" Hongjoong's fingers cupped your face and pressed your cheeks together. His eyes were filled with something animal, primal, and utterly savage. "Are you ready for me to fuck you, beautiful? Because I'll screw you so hard and long that you'll feel my cock in your pretty little pussy for days after. Those threatening words sounded like heaven to you, and I nodded your head impatiently. 

His hand moved away from your face but soon came back in the form of a sharp slap that burned your soft, plump cheek and made you gasp for breath. Oh shit, Hongjoong's actions caused a thick stream of slime to pour out of your trembling hole and onto the marble floor. God, you loved the way he handled you, without this puppy sweetness that guys your age had or clumsy attempts to please you. 

He was a man who knew exactly how to make your pussy flow for him. 

"I... want you to fuck me stupid Make me your personal little slut, please, sir."

Satisfied with your words, Hongjoong grabbed your hair again. He lifts you up from the floor, the roots of your hair being pulled painfully tight and causing your delicate scalp to burn slightly. He throws you down on the bed with force; your arse is facing him, and your legs are dangling over the edge. You immediately assume a seductive pose, looking back at Hongjoong over your shoulder with the most innocent and angelic expression on your face, spreading your legs for him, and shaking your plump arse to tease him slightly. 

The evil, almost demonic grin is back on Hongjoong's face when he sees what you have done. Your pussy is all swollen and pink, and for a second, he leans in to lick the delicate folds of your pussy once more. His tongue dives into your hole before he slaps you hard on your buttocks with both hands, mixing pain and pleasure and making you moan loudly as you rest your face against the silk sheets. 

"Impatient little cunt, aren't you? But, I suppose, kitten, it must be so hard for you to satisfy that greedy hole when you're being fucked by inept, drooling puppies, isn't it? Is this the first time you've ever been fucked by someone older, kitty?"

"Yes, sir, I've never been fucked by an older man." You moan as you feel Hongjoong rub the head of his cock against the folds of your quivering pussy. You whimper in frustration; damn it, all you wanted was to feel him inside you. Your pussy throbs with every touch, and you desperately want to be filled. You sob loudly as the tip of his cock pokes at your clit, your labia wrapped beautifully and tightly around the soft, wet flesh. 

"Please fuck me already. I want your cock so badly." You whimper, and he grins back. The sound of it is utterly vicious and diabolical.

"Now I can see it, kitten. You've never been played with like this before, have you? Those boys just stuck their cocks in your hole and used you as a toy for their own pleasure, didn't they?" He slapped his cock against your wetness before he wrapped his hands around your thighs and pressed them together. This new position made the throbbing of your pussy even more intense. 

"No one has ever played me right, sir; please show me how it's done. Destroy me..." You whimpered, pulling your arse back to try and get his cock inside. Oh, he just couldn't resist your words. You were exactly what he had always wanted for himself. 

"Well, then you should get ready, kitty, because this is going to be one hell of a ride." Hongjoong spits on your pussy to get more lube on it, as if you weren't already an absolute wet mess for him, and he positions himself in front of your narrow entrance. With a deep growl, he begins to push his cock into you, your wet walls sliding apart easily for him as he does so.

The delicate edges of your little hole burned from stretching as the head of his cock fully penetrated you, but you welcomed the sensation with a loud moan of pleasure. Centimetre by centimetre, your warm, sweet pussy engulfed his cock, bringing the two of you to a state of euphoric bliss. The silky, slippery walls of it clung to his thick girth, almost preventing him from moving at all. 

Your cunt was so tight and narrow around him that it made Hongjoong hiss and gasp for air. You moaned loudly underneath him. The bossy position that he was holding you in prevented you from moving your hips, leaving you with no choice but to take what he was giving you. Never in your life have you been so intensely aroused. Your lust for this stunningly mature man was simply inhuman.

"Oh fuck..." Hongjoong exhaled as he entered you all the way, his hips pressed tightly against your plump buttocks, as the head of the dick was buried in your cervix. You felt so full, so satiated, and already close to orgasming just from the way he spread you apart. The walls of your cunt contracted and quivered, and your swollen clit throbbed like never before. He hasn't done anything to you, and you're already so fucked up.

Hongjoong grabbed hold of your soft hips and dug his fingers into the juicy flesh, pulling you along the entire length of his cock before he pushed you back against him, slowly adapting you to him. You were so tight and tiny, or rather, he was so big, that even with so little movement and a great deal of mucus and saliva, the friction was palpably sharp. 

As soon as you got used to him, Hongjoong didn't wait a second before he started to move. From the very beginning, his pace was sharp and fast. His hips slammed into your arse with great force, and each time his thick, wiry cock entered you all the way to the base of your cervix, the swollen head slamming into your cervix. In time with his thrusts, your plump, heavy tits bounced.

The loud sound of his balls slapping against your plump arse and the noisy squelching of your wet cunt that echoed throughout the room made you sob loudly and pitifully. 

"Your pussy is sucking me so deliciously, my little kitten. You are so hungry for my cock, my sugar princess, and I will give you exactly what you want so badly. I am going to feed you properly with my cum. I'm going to give my pretty little kitty so much milk that it will be pouring out of you for days and days." Hongjoong's moan was deep and velvety. His breathing became heavy, and his voice became hoarse and sultry, like a wild predatory cat purring, as he quickened his pace to fuck you harder and deeper. "I'm going to breed you, kitten. I'll make you so beautiful and swollen with my children."

Hongjoong's dirty words turned you on even more, and you knew if you touched your clit even a little, you'd have your cream all over his dick in a matter of seconds. As if reading what you thought, Hongjoong's fingers slid down and began to circle your swollen bud. He drew intricate patterns all over your clit, sending jolts of hot pleasure through your body as he did so.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your tongue flicked out of your mouth, and a look of pure bliss crossed your face as Hongjoong continued to fuck you mercilessly.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum, please, sir." Your viscous fluid began to flow harder down your inner thighs and Hongjoong's hand as you approached your orgasm.

"Already? You were really desperate for my cock, you pretty little slut. Cum on my cock, kitty." Hongjoong laughed. He leaned forward, his muscular, sweaty chest pressed against your back, his magnificent hips moving smoothly and powerfully as he continued to mercilessly fill your pussy. In this new position, the head of his cock is now rubbing against your G-spot in a delicious way.

Your orgasm is raging inside of you like an all-consuming flame, destroying every conscious part of you and leaving you with no bones. You writhe beneath him, your legs shaking violently as you let out a loud scream. Just as you promised him, your pussy covered all over his cock with your cream, Hongjoong's name comes off your lips like a mantra, and you swear you saw God for a second. You don't think you'll ever reach that level of bliss again. It was truly intoxicating. Your limbs turned to jelly as your orgasm began to melt; you were almost drooling all over the silk sheets from the intense high. 

You don't even notice it when it happens. Hongjoong suddenly leaves your used, squeezing cunt, and the next moment you are lying on your back with your legs around his slutty waist and his cock deep inside you. 

"I want to have a look at your face when you come again. This time I'll make you squirt, kitten." Hongjoong's pace slows down; it becomes deep and hard; it's sharp, short thrusts that make his cock practically penetrate your cervix. You feel like he's completely remodelling your insides at the moment.

Hongjoong continues to fuck you, and the stimulation becomes almost unbearable for you, bringing you to the edge of pleasure once again. Hongjoong starts to move erratically and becomes careless as he chases his own orgasm. He leans down to your ear, breathing wetly and huskily, his hard chest pressed against your tits, your sensitive nipples rubbing against his heated and sweat-slick skin, bringing you even more pleasure. Your pink buds are practically tingling with the stimulation. 

"I will fill you with my sperm, and your pussy will swallow it all." He purred, the sound of his moaning filling your ears. As he fucks you into oblivion, Hongjoong catches your gaze, his cat-like eyes fixed on you. 

Hongjoong's gorgeous face contorts with pleasure; his hips twitch, and his face is pressed against your neck to muffle his animal growl. His cock is pulsating hotly inside your silky walls, and as he makes another deep thrust inside you and the head of his cock slips into your cervix for a second, your orgasm hits you like a freight train.

"Hongjoong, oh my God... It's so much. I can't... I can't take it anymore." You start to come, huge jets of liquid splashing around his thick cock as he continues to fuck you like there's no tomorrow. 

"Kitten, god damn it!" The man growls, and you feel the hot, thick sperm staining in the white of your tender walls. There's so much of his cum that the viscous, milky liquid seeps out past the point where his cock has plugged your tiny hole and stains the inside of your thighs. His teeth sink into your shoulder, almost tearing through your skin and almost to bleed, until he relaxes and pulls himself away from you. Hongjoong comes out of your tortured, swollen pussy and you go completely limp, too weak to move. 

"Damn, look at that hungry little cunt of yours swallowing up all my cum. That's my pussycat." Hongjoong purrs contentedly, showering you with praise as he watches your pussy twitch and the walls clench around the sudden void that his cock has left behind. 

"Let's get you cleaned up, kitty." The man says this to you as he gets out of bed and walks to the dressing room that is connected to his bedroom. When he comes back, he is dressed in a floor-length black silk dressing gown, and in his hands he is holding one of his luxurious, classic shirts.   You can barely manage to get out of bed; your legs are trembling, and cum is dripping out of your pussy. Hongjoong laughs as he picks you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom, where he sets up the shower for you. It was probably one of the best showers you've ever had. Maybe it was the incredibly expensive skin care products, or the water being the perfect temperature, or just the fact that Hongjoong fucked you to heaven and back. 

But you're safe to say that you're going to feel this night on your body for the next few days. 

Hongjoong's hot hands glide over your body, smearing the soft, fluffy foam of the incredibly sweet shower gel, and you melt under his touch.

"Will you stay with me, love?" He whispers in your ear. 

"I'll stay with you as long as you want me to, Hongjoong."

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You slowly climb out of Hongjoong's luxurious bed and try not to wake up the man who is sleeping peacefully with your actions. Hell, even when he's sleeping, he looks like a fucking work of art, and you almost want to go back to bed and wake him up with a quality blowjob, but you decide to revisit the idea later, after you've made breakfast for both of you. You flinch slightly as you move. The sweet pain in your pussy reminds you of what happened last night. Damn it, Hongjoong really did fuck you incredibly well.

It's surprisingly easy to navigate his huge house, and you quickly find a spacious kitchen bathed in golden sunlight, only to freeze in the hallway, not daring to move.

If yesterday you thought that Hongjoong was the most handsome man you had ever seen in your life, then when you look at the man who is now sitting at the dining table, relaxed and drinking coffee, you think that you have met God himself. Oh, damn. Unconsciously, you gasp for breath, which gets his attention, and when your eyes meet, you swear that your heart stops beating.

"Oh, you are awake already. Did you have a good night's sleep, my love?" His voice caresses your skin like a thousand kisses, and you are terribly ashamed to admit it, but sweet moisture begins to gather between your legs. God, what's happening now?

"Yes, I... Yes, that was good." You stammer under the weight of this gorgeous man's dark, almost hypnotic gaze, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

Your insecurities and embarrassment seem to amuse him, as the man lets out a dark, amused chuckle before his sensual, plump lips curl up into one of the sexiest smiles you've ever seen.

"I'm glad; sometimes Hongjoong is not the nicest host. He's a bit of a grumpy cat. You know?"

His casual words confuse you even more. And the fact that his eyes are literally devouring your almost naked body doesn't make it any easier. You're still wearing only Hongjoong's shirt, and it's decent enough to cover your plump buttocks, but not decent enough to be in the company of a strange man when you're not wearing underwear.

"I think I have to go..." You almost whisper as you watch the man's eyes go dark as his gaze lingers on the bruises and hickeys that Hongjoong has left on your neck.

"Oh no, darling, I don't think so. I think you should definitely stay for breakfast." He gets up from his seat and slowly starts to walk towards you, and you feel as if the air in the room has suddenly become heavier and thicker. You almost suffocate. God, you feel like you are being hunted.

"This is not the best idea; excuse me..." And then you realise that you never bothered to ask the name of this luxurious, grown-up man. A man who looks as if he had been the star of a fashion show just a few minutes ago.

He seems to realise this too. Because the next second he utters words that turn your whole world upside down.

"I'm sorry, I think I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Seonghwa, and last night you fucked my husband, Kitten".

[seresinhangmanjake]

His

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: You used to be a Lady, a daughter of a Great House until Feyd took you. Since then, your sole purpose has been to warm his bed, but when Rabban asks about having you for himself, Feyd makes a choice that changes your future.

Words: 2600

Notes: Possessiveness. Grumpy Feyd. I know it's similar to another one of my fics, but I realized that after the fact, so...

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

You didn’t sleep. Not a wink. You laid in his bed all night, waiting for the man who never came, and your heart didn’t cease its ferocious beats for a second. Where is he? Why isn’t he here? Is he ok? What happened? The sun rises without answers to those questions. 

You shoot up in bed when the door eases open. Expecting to find him, you’re disappointed to see instead his harpies enter one after the other. They don’t look at you. One goes about riffling through your dresses in the closet, one heads into the bathroom and you suddenly hear a rush of water filling the tub, and the last of them goes to the vanity Feyd brought in for you, lining up makeup and hair pins that she intends to use on you. 

The air about them is poised—an echo of who they used to be before they were turned into pets—as, for the moment, their vile, more carnivorous side lies dormant. 

Feyd only allows them to near you a couple hours after they’ve been fed; the peak time between their hunger sated and their bellies rumbling. At any other time, your uniquely foreign scent wafts to their nostrils and they are incapable of holding themselves back. More than a handful of instances—when they’ve managed to manipulate the guards to open their cages with their seductive smiles—they’ve gone on the hunt for you; one time in particular, sneaking into the bedroom in the middle of the night and yanking you from Feyd’s arms with the intention of sinking their teeth into your flesh. Feyd had been so furious he’d cut a finger from each of their hands. 

Still, they don’t scare you. You see in them women not entirely unlike yourself: owned, and therefore, changed. Soft are the women who have had the luxury of marriage and child-rearing in the comforts of wealth and beautiful homes—and good for them; how lovely to be soft—but it is the women who have not a choice in their existence that develop a steel shell. And you and the harpies have steel shells. In that way, they are your kin, and you try to subtly express that when you can, even though their allegiance to Feyd can make that quite difficult.

“Where is he?” you ask. 

They ignore you, continuing with their tasks, and you huff. Yes, sometimes they refuse to speak with you, and always it seems when you need their words most. In the past, you’ve been tempted to dangle your arm in front of their sharpened fangs in the hope that the offering will encourage their cooperation, but you’ve yet to find the bravery for that. Plus, Feyd would lose his mind. Well, he would lose the rest of it. 

“You’ve spoken to me before,” you continue. “Why not now?”

One of them stops and faces you. She glances at her sister who shakes her head. 

“Tell me,” you plead. 

“We are not permitted to speak with you on the matter,” the other says to your frustration. That is not good enough. Regardless of how he sees you and how you feel, he is the one thing keeping you alive on this lifeless planet and you refuse to go about your days worrying over his safety and what his disappearance means for your fate.

You throw the sheets off your legs and stand. 

“I don’t care,” you spit as your silky nightgown falls at your ankles, but then you reconsider your tone. The harpies do not do well with aggression. Being so animalistic, their instincts are easily drawn out, and they tend to attack when attacked, which is not a fight you would win. 

You take a calming breath, placing a hand over your heart. “We are the same. He owns us, he clothes us, he feeds us,” you remind them. “On this planet, I am as much your sister as you are each other’s. We all care about him in a way and if I knew what happened to him, I would have the decency to tell you.”

The harpy who drew your bath returns to the bedroom. Having overheard your words, she crosses her arms and says, “With respect, my Lady, we are not your sisters,” she says. “We have never had him the way you have, and he does not feel for us the way he does you.” 

Your clenched jaw loosens, lips parting. If you had assumed anything about the relationship between Feyd-Rautha and his harpies, it was that they had once been where you are; that when you came along, they lost their rank and became something alike the handmaids from your home world. You’d assumed that when they warmed his bed, their handmaids were the women who entertained him before them, and so on like a disgusting, perverted pattern. But if that is not the case, then your sense of identity is even more confused. Not to mention, nary a soul has referred to you as ‘Lady’ since you were taken from your family. So why show that respect now when Feyd practically stripped you of the title months ago? 

You look to the only one of the three who seems unsure of the situation. She’s biting her lip, worrying the fabric of your unworn gown between her fingers. 

“What about you?” you ask her and her head lifts to meet your eyes. She’s the smallest of them—pixie-esque, like you read in fairytale stories as a child—and despite the core of their primal nature, the gentlest. “You want to tell me.”

The harpy by your vanity hisses, but the gentle one does not shy away at the warning. “She has been kind to us,” she tells her sister in the most self-assured tone you’ve ever heard leave her mouth. 

The sister snaps back. “He instructed us to do one thing: get her ready for the day and act like nothing is wrong. It was not to tell her what happened.”

You lightly gasp. “So something has happened,” you state, feeling your heartbeat quicken. Your chest begins to rise and fall to match the rapid rate. “Is he ok?”

There are a few seconds of silent pause before Pixie stands a little straighter, setting her shoulders in a strong line. “Our Lord na-Baron was answering for the death of his brother.”

Your head jerks back. “Rabban?” you question, your brow pinching. “Rabban is dead?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“And Feyd is the one who killed him?” That doesn’t make any sense. While Feyd has complained enough for you to know Rabban is a bumbling idiot, he eventually found a way for his brother to serve a purpose. Why would he kill a man when he is no longer the nuisance he once was, you wonder, so you ask, “Why?”

“The Lord Rabban…made suggestions,” Pixie tells you. One of the harpies groans as the other shakes her head.

“What suggestions?”

She bites down and swallows hard, then she says, “He suggested that the na-Baron share you for his own pleasure.”

Instantly, you’re hit with a wave of nausea. Share? Share you? The concept of a foreign woman hopping between men of status is not unusual, but at this point, you assumed if Feyd were going to participate in something like that, he would have sent you off already. Not doing so didn’t even surprise you. He’s too possessive. 

“You said he was answering for Rabban’s death,” you say, but answering for that surely wouldn’t have taken so many hours, not when the Baron saw Rabban as a waste of space. “So where is he now?”

—

He doesn’t notice when you step into the training room and you’re thankful for that. You came on a mission to extract more answers out of him, but you don’t mind having a second to admire him sparing against his trainer. 

He’s sweaty. You like him sweaty—sweaty and bare-chested and perfectly, effortlessly mesmerizing as aggressive grunts leave his lips. You silently watch their violent dance, your form mouse-like by the door until his trainer looks up and halts to stare at you. Feyd whips around to follow his line of sight, then he sighs and turns back to the smaller man. He mutters something as he grabs the rag at his belt and runs it down his face. 

The trainer leaves and Feyd places his knife back on the table among many others. “I told them to keep you away today,” he says dully, monotone, not meeting your eyes as he runs his finger over the blade and fiddles with the hilt. “Incompetent brats.” 

“You didn’t come to bed.”

“I was busy,” he responds without letting a beat pass. He continues to avoid your stare and mess with the knives as if he’s never wielded them before.

You slowly step down the stairs into the pit of the room. “Busy killing your brother?” you ask. The muscles in his back twitch and flex under pale skin as he grips the hilt harder. 

“That is none of your concern.” The distance between you lessens until you’re a foot from his back, but he doesn’t turn around. 

“Even though you killed him because of me?” you ask. His neck ticks and his head tilts and shifts to adjust to the tension. When he still doesn’t respond, you try another angle. “Why are your harpies referring to me as their ‘Lady’?”

That seems to do it. Feyd faces you, crosses his arms, and leans his lower back against the table. “You think spending one night without me gives you permission to be nosy?”

You don’t give in to his method of shutting you up by aiming to make you feel silly and guilty. Instead, your eyes narrow and you mirror the crossing of arms. “Why am I a Lady again?”   

“You just are.”  

“Are you sending me home?”

His eyes flash. Blue irises darken a shade. “Don’t be stupid.”

“So I’m a Lady on Giedi Prime?” you ask, dropping your chin to emphasize how ridiculous that sounds. 

The edge of Feyd’s jaw sharpens as he clenches his back teeth. “Stop asking questions.”

“Then answer one,” you say. 

It’s a shot taken by an untrained hand, as he doesn’t enjoy demands, especially not from you, but you figure you have nothing to lose in the attempt, so you don’t cower under his menacing glare. You wait. And much to your surprise, he surrenders. 

He blinks, and when his eyes open, they have softened ever so slightly. Then he says, “You’re marrying me,” and everything from your lungs to your limbs freezes in shock. 

“W–What?” you stutter. That makes less sense than Rabban’s sudden death. 

Feyd groans and stands straight, his arms falling at his sides. “See what being nosy gets you?” he snaps. “I wasn’t going to tell you immediately, and you had to go and ruin it.”

He grabs a fresh knife and stomps his way over to a dummy, ready to attack something other than you for the insecurity that he can’t completely contain. You’ve never witnessed him insecure, but you know the feeling when you see it—the defense mechanism, the distancing himself, the grumbly attitude. 

“I’m not sure I understand,” you press as he slashes and stabs at the soulless victim. “I’m marrying you because you killed your brother for wanting to fuck me?”

With a grunt, the dummy’s head severs from its torso and flies off in your direction. It rolls and rolls and stops just before hitting your feet. The dead eyes stare up at you in silent amusement. Now you’ve done it, they mock.

“I don’t ever want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, do you understand me?” Feyd growls.

Your eyes shoot to his. “The marrying you part or The your brother fucking me part?”

He tosses the knife aside. It clatters against the ground as he closes in on you. His hand wraps around your neck. “Don't test me,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “I will sew your damn lips shut if I have to.”

An empty threat if you’ve ever heard one. He would never harm you, but even if he were going to try, his fingers would need to be squeezing much tighter.

You roll your eyes. “Well then how am I going to suck your cock?”

Something about the tease stuns him. His tense features immediately settle and his whole body eases with his exhale. Glancing at your lips, he licks his own, and you think he might decide to kiss you—after all, it’s been a good twenty-four hours since the last one—but he doesn’t.

You snort. “Didn’t think that one through, did you.”

Long fingers unwrap from around your neck. “You’re not funny,” he mumbles with an odd sense of shame.

“If you don’t find me entertaining, can you maybe take the time to explain all of this better?”   

Feyd considers keeping his mouth shut. You know him well enough to know that. However, it’s ridiculous to contemplate since he’s already spilled the bigger news. Nothing could be more shocking than you, after the bed-warming position you’ve held for months, becoming his wife. 

“My uncle was going to take you away from me for killing Rabban,” he finally says. “So I told him I've had plans to marry you for the alliance and that's why I refused to share you. Rabban wouldn’t take no for an answer, so he had to die.”

Raising a brow, you say, “The Baron accepted that explanation? My House may be one of the Greats, but we do not offer much for Giedi Prime.”

Feyd shrugs. “My uncle enjoys anything that causes upset. Marrying me means we will always own something very valuable to your family.”

It would likely offend another, but you don’t mind being owned. While the Baron may believe the Harkonnens as a whole will own you, you belong to Feyd and Feyd alone. He’ll never allow anyone to hurt you and now he’ll never have to fight or argue with anyone to stake his claim, which works for you just fine, to say the very least. 

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

Your head tilts as you smile. “Caring enough to protect me.”

“Don't flatter yourself,” he says. “I didn't do it for you, I did it for my own benefit.”

Your sweet smile morphs into a smirk. “The benefit being that you get to keep me all to yourself…for the rest of your life.”

With a scoff, Feyd rolls his eyes and crosses his arms again. “Whatever.”

“Feyd…” you sigh, leaning into him.

“What?” he returns in his snarky tone as if he doesn’t want you near, but he doesn’t step out of the bubble of your space.

“I'm happy.”

A pink tinge sneaks onto his pale skin, and he quickly looks away. And before he has a chance to come up with some witty remark to smack you with, you grab his face and press your lips to his. 

You hold on to him until he starts to kiss you back, and then he's reaching for you, pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you, and you know you won't be going anywhere for a good long while.

[cordeliawhohung]

Thoroughfare

interwoven; maledicted || ao3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader

Undone fibers and tissue — you are Simon’s magnum opus. The greatest mess he’s ever created.

cw: fucked up soulmate!au, dub-con, smut, alcohol, forced breeding kink, dacryphilia, implied kidnapping, implied baby trapping, simon is a little insane, bound by dreams and memories trope, reader is hyperfeminine

In his dreams, Simon rips you apart with bare hands and teeth.

Sinew and fibers undone, iron on his lips, flesh filling the chasm of his belly. Fingernails grow short and bloodied as he delicately picks apart every inch of you that the universe reveals to him. Easy as tearing through wrapping paper. You are a gift. The only glimpse of light that can make it through the depths; the suffocating layers of earth and soil he’s buried under. 

At first, he is convinced you are just like any other dream. A figment of his imagination. You appear after he kills Roba, with his skin still slick with the viscera of the men he had slaughtered in the name of revenge. A fine thing to look at. Soft — softer than him — with untainted eyes. A gaze not stained by death and horror. His first dream of you is the first time in a long while that he sleeps through the night without a nightmare. Domestic. You smile and laugh for the entire dream. Gentle. An angel. 

It is not your only appearance. Somehow, Simon is lucky enough to be blessed with weekly dreams of you, if not more. He dreams of warm tea, and hands smaller than his wrapping around a cup. He dreams of bright smiles and flowing dresses. Of liquor sweeter than he’d ever order. A chaste kiss with a stranger. Expert fingers typing at an office keyboard. A scraped knee from missing the landing to your apartment. 

You have become his only solace in a world that wants nothing more than to smother him. Crush him and grind him up until there’s nothing left of him — a red paste to feed the worms. For once, he gets to look at the world and enjoy it in ignorance, just as you do. Soak up the beauty of it without glancing over his shoulder. Smell the roses and not worry about pricking his fingers. He sleeps, so he can dream of you; his strange little visitor. 

It isn’t until a few years after your sneaky arrival into his mind that he entertains the fact that you exist in the conscious plane. Something living and breathing. A tangible being. This revelation invades his mind when he dreams of you in front of your vanity, skin clean and fresh from the shower that still wets your skin. A perfect canvas for the makeup you paint yourself with when you go out with friends. 

If he were conscious, his pupils would swallow his irises at the way the wand of your gloss drags across your lips. His thumb would twitch, wanting to replace it, to feel your breath against his skin. Warm him up until he melts. A dripping mess to pool on the floor and ruin that lovely, pristine blouse. 

Goosebumps ripple over your exposed skin halfway through your routine, and you freeze, fingers still gripping your applicator. The features in your face harden — growing cold as if you’ve seen a ghost — before relaxing as your eyes find yourself in the mirror. Your lips press together, then split open to speak. 

“Do you dream of me too, Simon?” 

He wakes with a start. Thick sweat coating his bare chest, scars angry and searing, heart throbbing against his ribs. It’s impossible to tell if it’s fear or infatuation that has his blood singing the way it is, reverberating through tight veins and arteries like a gushing river. He doesn’t care to attempt to differentiate the two feelings. In his mind, they’re both the same; they both feel like impending death. Instead, he keeps his eyes glued on the cigarette-yellowed ceiling above him as he tries to recall the way your lips moved when you said his name. 

There is not a religious or superstitious bone in Simon’s body. He has seen the brutal truth that if there is some superior power holding the cards, they certainly haven’t cared enough to lend him a hand. But he believes in you. In your existence. He believes there is a heat that dwells underneath your skin that will sear away everything that ails him. A softness to you that counteracts his puffy scars and calloused hands. A sweetness that he wants to siphon out of you and devour whole. 

All he has to do is find you. 

It’s an impossible task when he’s usually on the other side of the planet. Heavy gunpowder, disgusting residue, the recoil of his 1911 in the palm of his hand. Simon is the antithesis of you. Sharp where you are gentle, bitter where you are sweet. He thinks that’s why he’s so drawn to you, polar opposites pulling to one another until they crash and burn; superheated sugar melting and blazing through his skin until all he can think about is the pain and you. 

Your voice speaking his name rings loud and clear on his ears as he drags himself through the threshold of his flat. He wonders if you would say his name in real life just as sweetly as you did in his dream. Dead on his feet, he hasn’t slept in a proper bed in weeks, and the plush mattress almost feels foreign against the ache in his back. Usually he knows better than to try and sleep fresh off of deployment. High anxiety and fried nerves force him to toss and turn for a majority of the night, reliving the feeling of gore soaking the threads of his uniform and gloves. 

Countless weeks of long nights have meant there’s been no time for him to sleep, and if he can’t sleep, then he can’t see you. Whether you know it or not, you’ve become his anchor. His gift. The one thing he can focus on that brings him pleasure instead of pain. So he forces his eyes shut and —

He hates what he sees. 

Fresh, unclaimed skin glistening in the faint lighting of a stranger's room — your skin, that soft and beautiful flesh he dreams of every night — you’re in perfect view of a man he doesn’t recognize. Synthetically sweet moans pour from your lips as this stranger — this son of a bitch, this bastard — lazily pumps his cock into you. Even in his unconscious state, Simon can feel the unbridled rage ignite in his chest, flames licking up the cells of his heart until it’s nothing but embers and charcoal. 

Who the hell is fucking his girl? 

Even from an outsider's perspective, he can tell the sex is terrible. Knees bent awkwardly, heels in the mattress as you lay on your back, hands pawing at your own tits for some sort of stimulation as this man fucks you with the slowest speed Simon has ever seen in his life. There’s no friction. No build up of pressure to get you to keen and whine. Your moans born of pity quickly drown in your flings own euphoria as he whines, cock half buried in your cunt. 

He’s finished already.

An unsatisfied but cleverly covered moan leaves your lips as your fling carefully holds onto the condom as he pulls out of you, being courteous enough to not spill. (It’s the least he can do, saying as how he obviously couldn’t make you come). He quickly ties it off, having already caught his breath (he hadn’t worked that hard anyway. Not nearly as hard as you deserve) before he smiles at you with a sigh.

Then there’s the awkward conversation. A terminal lack of chemistry. Polite laughter and reassurances fall from your lips, rehearsed so well it’s almost painful. Too thoughtful for your own good for someone who couldn’t even consider you in such an intimate exchange. A smile swells in the apples of your cheeks as your partner excuses himself to shower, to rid himself of any evidence of you on his body, like he refuses to bask in what little glory he was able to pull out of you. 

Metal squeaks, and the water heater sputters to life. You lie alone in that bed, half spun, yearning to grow tighter. Simon should have seen it coming — your hands slipping between your legs. It’s only natural for the pads of your fingers to dip and toy with the furious, worked up flesh of your clit. There is nothing leisure about it. No teasing yourself — no, everything you do is expertly done. 

Now, it’s an actual task to keep quiet, to not moan and groan as you fuck yourself open on the three fingers you hastily shove inside of yourself while your other hand works at your clit. You’re a better solo performer than you were with that stranger — that motherfucker, that transgressor — and it doesn’t take long at all before your eyes are fluttering shut. The steady rise and fall of your chest heaves with your breaths as you pulse and writhe around your own fingers. You stay like that for as long as you’re willing to risk until you quickly wipe the lingering wetness on your fingers into your thighs before —

Simon stirs, cock painfully hard, straining against his boxers, throbbing. It’s normal for him to sweat when he wakes up from dreams, but not like this. Sticky, thick, heavy; his want taints him to the point of ruin. Seeps from his pores where it soaks into his bedsheets. He grunts as he props his body up on his pillows, heedy desire too heavy on his body. 

There is not a single speck of shame to be found inside his conscience as he yanks the band of his boxers past the crest of his hips. He wastes no time wrapping his hand around himself, blood pulsing through the veins of his cock, searing his hand with each stroke. Unlike you, with your desperate, quick fingers and unrestrained desire to get yourself off, Simon teases himself. Thumbs over the raging nerves in the head of his cock, lazily bucks into his own hand, squeezes just as hard as he thinks your cunt would. 

You. You. Christ, you’re all he can think about. All he dreams about. Haunting him like the grass stains on his uniform or the echo of a gunshot in a small room. Deafening. All consuming. 

It’s only fair that he consumes you back. 

He imagines what it would be like to undo you. Watch your eyes glaze over until you’re nothing but a content, mindless thing. He wonders if you’d cry trying to take his cock for the first time. There’s a certain girth to him that your lover certainly doesn’t have, and he thinks he’d enjoy the brine of your tears. Salty. The only thing on you that isn’t sickeningly sweet. Something that can match his abrasiveness. 

“I dream of ya. All the fuckin’ time,” Simon hisses. Fatigue coats his vocal chords with thick gravel, rumbling deep in his chest as he groans. Glossy lips around his cock, hands rubbing at the length of him that you can’t reach — he craves it. Imagines it so vividly he can almost taste the sex in the air of his stale, hardly lived-in bedroom. “Dream of you fuckin’ other men. Dream of how I could do it better. You’d like that, yeah?” 

Umber eyes peer through the darkness and land on the vague, fuzzy outline of his body. Wide hips, meaty hands, pulsing cock — he hopes you’ll be able to see it when you sleep. He wants you to wake up with that same burning want that you’ve bequeathed to him. 

“Sweet thing, so soft, arent’cha? I know you. Know what you need. Sweet girls like you always need it rough. Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I’ll get you askin’ for it. Have you on your goddamn knees beggin’ for me.” 

Simon doesn’t make a show of it when he comes. There’s no need to overperform for you. He just makes sure to take in every detail. The steady dribble of cum that slides down his cock into the unruly hair at the base, the angry protruding veins, his own hitched breath and panting. He stares, and stares, and stares until he starts to go soft. 

“Hope you dream of this tonight, sweetheart,” he purrs. 

That’s the only name he calls you by. Sweetheart. Whispers it to the void in the morning when he pulls himself out of bed just before dawn. Asks if his scars turn you on as he lazily shaves his face in the mirror. Mutters wish me luck, sweetheart with a gun in hand, and the sound of roaring plane engines drowning his voice out. 

You leave him treats. Luring a dog with a still wet bone. Twirling in the mirror in cute outfits he craves to tear through with a knife. Popping your lips in the mirror after applying a fresh layer of gloss. Your fingers in your cunt after another failed hookup.

He kills a mercenary in Mexico and wonders if the shade of his blood would look good on your lips. Wants that same shade to stain the base of his cock in smeared lipstick and spit. He sees the bright, piercing pink of brain matter and he thinks about your tongue — what it would look like lulling out of your mouth as you moan. Simon expertly weaves the destructive nature of his hands with your delicate existence until you are nothing but a corrupted glitch in his mind. His cherished gift he can’t help but ruin because it’s the only thing he knows how to do. 

There are some nights when mere thoughts and dreams of you alone aren’t enough to quell the tempest that makes his hands itch with the urge to shred and devour. It’s an easy affliction to satiate on the field when he’s got a knife in his hand. It’s significantly harder when he’s on his third week on leave and he hasn’t heard the death rattle of an enemy — his favorite song. While you are mouthwatering, you aren’t quite tangible enough to pick apart the way his fingers yearn to do so, so he wanders to someplace a bit more stimulating. 

Terminus. The end of the line. He always finds his way back to this bar one way or another. Never to drink, oddly enough. There’s always going to be the rough parts of him he refuses to uncover; the rigid scars on his skin, and the sharpness of his teeth. A thick balaclava always covers anything that would give him away as the blood thirsty devil he so desperately attempts to suppress. No, he never goes to Terminus to order a pint and sit in some dark, sour corner of the building while all other patrons crowd around the dart boards or billiard tables. Simon goes to Terminus because it’s a close walk from his rental, and they sell Kentucky bourbon by the bottle.

A heavy wave of heat hits him as soon as he enters the building, but he doesn’t even stumble as he makes a beeline for the counter. Friday night brings a thick crowd with bodies that pulse and dance to their own tunes as liquor courses through their body and rids them of all the pain and filth of the week. He’s waiting for longer than usual as the bartender — a man who Simon reckons is about as old as the establishment itself — zips between customers as they stumble along and order more poison to cure their pain. Normally, he doesn’t show up on a weekend; he knows better than that, but he’s drowning in a special kind of storm tonight.

Simon is a patient man. He has to be, with his line of work. Relentless in his endeavor to beat his enemy to the mark. Yet, even a man as stoic and persevering as Simon gets antsy when his back is towards the entrance. Door swinging open and closed, allowing the slightest summer breeze to waft through the tight room. The urge to glance over his shoulder and assess every inch of that room haunts him, but he ignores the itch underneath his skin. 

Instead, he focuses on the sounds. The idle chatter of guests as they slip throughout the room, crawling over the establishment like insects. Thick wood splintering as tiny needles drive tip first into the dart board to his left. Laughter and heavy accents, shitty jokes, clinking glass, hoppy beer, body odor, dense nicotine —

A giggle. 

Simon Riley never freezes, but he does the first time his ears are graced with your voice outside of his dreams. He’s in limbo. A terrible purgatory that makes his ears ring as his dark eyes scan the bar with the skill of a bloodthirsty dog. Deadly. Efficient. Your blood sings to him, and he follows the song until he finds you leaning against the wooden wall next to a billiards table. You’re watching some nameless freaks play a game as you sip on some fruity drink through a straw. 

Dark, mid-rise jeans sit satisfyingly low on your hips, and the flesh on your stomach is poorly covered by a thin tank top that doesn’t want to roll past your ribcage. You’re melting, sugar sweet sweat coating your chest, caramelizing deliciously on your skin. Cute, dainty, dull, teeth flash as you giggle again, laughing as some poor sod misses an easy pocket. 

He wants to run his tongue along your neck, lick up that nectar glinting in the dim lights before ruining you. Fingers twitch in time with his pulse as his heart beats harder now than it ever has in any other moment — if he doesn’t move soon, it’ll rip free from his chest and run off without him. 

He didn’t even have to track you down. Like a true gift, you fell right into his lap. 

“The usual?” 

The ancient bar hand grabs Simon’s attention and pulls him back to earth with a swift yank on his leash. Sharp eyes shoot back at him — seemingly annoyed he was pulled out of his daydream — before they soften and he huffs. The man looks impatient, irritated that he’s taking up his valuable time during such a busy night. 

“Bourbon. Angel’s Envy. Neat,” he responds. 

Bewildered, the bartender shrugs as he slinks off to get Simon’s drink, and the moment the glass is in his hand he tosses a few quid on the counter before stalking off into the crowd. He approaches you from the side, though he’s certain you wouldn’t notice him if he came from a more direct route. He waits for everyone to crowd the table, waits for you to be shoved to the back, content against the wall, drink in hand — ripe for the picking. 

You don’t flinch when his hand wraps around your waist, thick pads of his fingers digging into the tender flesh of your waist. He wants to grin at that fact — like you already know that you belong to him — but he doesn’t. Cold. Collected. You look up at him with glinting eyes that quickly grow wide with recognition. The beginning of his name forms on your glossy lips, but doesn’t quite roll off of your tongue. 

“Been lookin’ for you everywhere, sweetheart,” he says, voice a harsh whisper. 

Your eyes flutter, enticing and sweet, like you’re trying to blink sand from your eyes. “I… I didn’t think you actually existed,” you admit. 

He raises a brow, and it dances underneath his mask in a challenge. “Yeah? Is that why you asked if I dreamed of you, too? Were just takin’ the piss outta me?” 

“No- well, I mean… I had a feeling. That you existed,” you say, laugh hissing between your teeth as your gaze drops. 

Melting already, and he’s hardly got his hands on you. 

Amber liquid swirls in the glass in Simon’s hand as he holds it out for you to take. You look at it with cautious eyes, teeth sinking into your lip before you look back at him. 

“This is… this is insane, isn’t it? I mean, you’re real. And I’m real.” You swallow thickly, skin heating as his thumb slides underneath the hem of your tank top. “So everything I saw… was real? Your work, you- you’re in the military? You’ve seen me at my most… open. I’ve watched you… you know… And, uhm… I don’t know what…”

He smirks, breath pushing out of his lungs, fanning across your face even through the fabric of his balaclava. “I told you, didn’t I? I know you. I know what you need, sweetheart.” 

You have no time to answer before he’s raising the glass of bourbon up to your lips, and there’s no choice but to drink. Simon tips the glass, and you let the liquor wash over your tongue. He chuckles at the face you make — it’s too brash for something as sweet as you — yet you swallow every last drop. A thin bead sits on your bottom lip, threatening to dribble down your chin, and he uses the knuckle of his index finger to wipe it clean. 

“I know what you need, and you know what I want,” he continues, head tilting to the side — a predator sizing up his prey. “Let’s not draw this out any longer, yeah?”

Once the door of Simon’s apartment is shut and locked behind him, he’s got your back against the wall. Exposed flesh of your arms pinned beside your head, moans muffled by his lips on yours. Despite the bourbon, he can still taste the mixed drink you were nursing before; syrupy sweet. So fitting. His fingers release your hands before they’re ghosting down the center of your chest, tracing your sternum with professional precision. If he presses any harder, he’ll tear through skin and bone, sink into your blood, into the muscle of your heart, fresh ichor coating his hand with a delicious treat. 

Instead, he yanks your tank top up to your collar bones before pulling down the hem of your bra. Your tits fall free with a gasp from your heaving lungs, and he sinks his teeth into his prize. Bite after bite. Sweet as a peach, just like he knew you would be, and you bruise just as easily as one too. You whimper as he marks you, sharp canines staking claim with pressure harsh enough to draw blood. If it’s too much for you, you don’t say anything. 

You try to return the favor. Palm of your hands pressed against the firm, thick muscle of his chest, pawing at him, trying to feel him through his clothes. You’re not intimidated by the scars that paint his skin, or the roughness of his character. He’s always been like this for as long as you’ve known him, and you’re very familiar with Simon Riley. 

So you trust him completely as he yanks you down the entryway and toward the kitchen. It’s implicit. In your nature. Soft, pliable. Bending. And it’s in his nature. Rough. Demanding. Forceful — your lower back collides with the counter where Simon usually prepares his meals, and he’s aggressive when he unzips your jeans and pushes them past your hips. 

“You’ve been dreaming of this too. I know you have.” Simon grunts as he turns you around, hip bones pressing against the unforgiving countertop as his clothed cock grinds against your bare ass. You try not to wince at the sting of the corner cutting into your thin skin. “Every night. Been watchin’ me just as long as I’ve been watchin’ you. My gift. My sweet fuckin’ angel.” 

Though he assured you that he would have you on your knees begging for him, Simon doesn’t have the time to waste. He crouches down, face level with your ass as he spreads the meat of your thighs apart as far as they’ll go with your jeans restricting your knees. There’s no hesitation as he dives in, tongue lapping at your hole, saliva mixing with your wetness. Muscles tense, throat constricts, and heat courses as you bend forward, elbows resting on the counter to give him better access. 

Searing heat builds in your cunt as his tongue explores around your clit. It’s messy, hardly put together. Like a dog that can’t keep the food in his mouth as he’s chewing.

He wants to stay there forever, lapping at you like the bad dog he is, but he can’t. There’s an incessant pressure building inside of him, broiling, threatening to melt you in the very palm of his hands if he’s not quick. So he pulls away, still aching for you, and spits a thick glob of saliva on you for good measure before standing tall behind you. 

Metal grinds together as he unzips his jeans, and your own ears perk up at the sound. “Do you have protection?” you pant. “I’ve got a few rubbers in my bag if- hey- Simon!” 

Flesh burns and stretches as Simon bullies himself into you. It steals the air from your lungs as he presses, and presses, and presses, until there’s nothing left of him that you haven’t swallowed whole. It’s easy. Slick. He forces you open, giving you no choice but to give in. A strained whine leaves your lips as he rocks his hips, thick cock splitting you apart, legs too restricted to even give him more room inside of you. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout that,” he grunts, hands pulling you back against his chest by your shoulders. “We already confirmed, I know what you need, and you know what I want, yeah?” 

Your mind blanks the moment his thrusts bear weight. So full, then void, and then spilling. It racks your nerves, renders them fuzzy, bogged down with too much syrup that you can’t move fast enough through the stickiness to connect the dots. Gooey. Soft like taffy. You stretch and pull for him as his relentless pace renders you as a puddle in his hands. 

You know what I want. 

You know what you need. A good fuck. That’s why you’re here to begin with, isn’t it? To make love to the man who’s been haunting your dreams with gore and violence. To fall into the gravity of him that you couldn’t escape even if you tried. You thought you knew what he wanted. Same as you. To fuck the girl who’s been giving him a toothache from the sweetness of her voice. But now? As he’s grunting in your ear, hands pawing at your tits, fingers gripping your throat? 

Now, you’re not so sure. 

Still, the pleasure rips through you with a demanding ache you can’t ignore. So needy and worked up from the neglect of your failed love life and array of shitty partners, he feels you start to unwind. Melt and separate as your moans fall free — pleasant and the only filling thing he’s had in his entire life. Your face contorts from the intensity of it all, diaphragm spasming as you hiccup and cry, fresh and hot tears streaming down your face. 

Simon coos and coddles, fingers reaching for your jaw as he turns your face to the side. Hot breath tickles the fresh streaks on your cheeks as he chuckles, patronizing. 

“Cryin’ sweetheart?” he asks; a question he already knows the answer to. 

His tongue lies flat against your skin as you whimper, and he licks your tears like it’s fresh bourbon from the cask. He prepares himself for the salt, the addicting brine, but it doesn’t hit him. Even as you’re being torn apart, flesh pinched free from bone in his hands, you’re just as sweet as you always are. 

“S-Simon, please,” you babble, face trying to wrench free from his tongue. 

“Is there a damn thing on you that doesn’t taste this good? You’re a fuckin’ mess and still… could live off of you forever,” he promises into the raw skin of your cheek. 

There’s a few more minutes of nonstop, demanding thrusts from Simon before the pressure snaps and floods around you. You come with a sob, eyes screwing shut as his cock continues its assault — that demanding rhythm that saps you for everything you’re worth. Liquid. Mush. Bone with the marrow sucked free. Undone fibers and tissue — you are Simon’s magnum opus. The greatest mess he’s ever created. 

He finishes not too long after you in a fury of thrusts and a growl you can feel rumbling in his chest. It leaves you raw. Muscles tingling and dancing underneath your skin. Body spent. Eyes blurring with tears. He keeps himself plugged inside of you, grip slowly becoming loose as he trails kisses along the side of your neck — like he only acknowledges how fragile you are after he’s done breaking you. 

“Sweet angel,” he whispers, cock twitching inside of you as he speaks. “Let’s clean you up.” 

You wake up in his bed the next morning with the window open and the birds attempting to chirp over the sound of car engines and city white noise. Soiled clothes cling to your skin, cum staining your panties and the insides of your thighs from the two other rounds Simon insisted on going for. You’re spent. Licked clean until your sugary crust dissolved, and now you’re nothing but a bare, gooey center. Sheets stick to your body as you sit up, body yearning to stretch, only for a tattooed arm to yank you back onto the mattress. 

You’re face to face with Simon, and your muscles are too mushy to argue with him. His fingers trace your makeup-stained face. Old mascara sitting in the creases of your eyes from heavy tears, glitter from your lip gloss seeping into your chin and cheeks. He adores it. A beautiful mess — the only chaos he can create that is still worth loving. 

But you’ve been here long enough. 

“Morning,” you greet, voice faint. He does nothing but hum in response. “If uh… I can shower and maybe borrow your clothes, I can head home here soon. Get out of your hair.” 

“Not happening,” he replies, voice so sharp you flinch. 

You clear your throat in a poor attempt to regain your composure. “Well, uh. We should probably head to the pharmacy. The morning after pill would be a good idea considering-”

You’re silenced by his hand gently grazing your cheek. He looks human lying there next to you, half of his face smushed into a pillow. Almost. There’s something wrong with his eyes. A darkness lurking there that you hadn’t noticed before. Or had you just forced yourself to be blind to it? You watch him with wide eyes as his gaze narrows, a seething question burning on his tongue. 

“The fuck do you think this is, sweetheart?” You swallow, and it feels like razors tear you apart the whole way down your throat. “Dreamin’ of each other? I’ve been craving you for fucking years. Think this is all just a coincidence? Think this was all for one good fuck?”

“You… don’t seem like the type of man to be superstitious,” you admit. 

His glare undos you as the muscles in his jaw tense. He leans up, towering over you as you lay under him, face mere inches from yours as his upper lip fights back a snarl. 

“We’re in this for the long run, sweetheart,” he says as if he’s staking a claim. “I’ll get you nice and fat with my kid if you aren’t already, and I’ll take good care of the both of you. Protect you. Make sure I never have to dream about you again because you’ll always be right here.”

“That’s crazy, you’re speaking nonsense,” you say, “I-I hardly know you.” 

“We’ll go down to the registrar's office,” he continues as if you never even spoke in the first place. “Next month you’ll be my wife and we’ll make good on the mess our minds have been making of each other for the last few years.” 

Palpable fear plagues your body, forcing your bottom lip to quiver as you shake your head at his utter nonsense. This… this is insane. He’s insane. But weren’t you aware of that much? How many men have you watched him kill? How often have you watched him wash the blood from his gloves, or claw out of an early grave? Heard him chuckle as a man groveled and sobbed, begging to be let go, just for him to skewer him with his knife anyway? 

What else did you expect from a man you met at Terminus? 

While Simon dreamed the good dreams — the fair dreams of sweet smiles and smooth liquor — you’ve been the antithesis of him. You’ve had the nightmares, the sweats, the anxiety. Every single image you ever saw of his life had been a warning. A siren screaming for you to run. A premonition of the trained hunter that’s been on your savory scent for years. And still, you fell right into his trap as if you weren’t taught the exact way to wiggle out of it. 

“What else have these dreams been for, sweetheart? I’ve been huntin’ you for years. Not lettin’ you go now just ‘cause you’ve got cold feet.”

Teeth embedded in flesh, now all you can do is squirm as Simon’s lips press against yours. He no longer needs to dream of ripping you apart. Flesh from bone, sinew shredding and snapping. Now, he can do that all from the comfort of his bed as he devours you — his lovely wife — soul and all. 

[blindmagdalena]

All of a Sudden, There You Are

3k. homelander x gn!reader. pining. pure fluff! an older fic that desperately needed cleaning up. rewritten for a consistent perspective and added 600-some words. gif credit. AO3 link.

As Homelander's stylist, it's your job to ensure he looks his best, whether he's saving the world or saving face in front of the cameras. After nearly a year servicing him, things between you change abruptly.

Familiarity and consistency feed a base need in all of us. So much of what is best in us is bound up in the permanence of those around us that it becomes the measure of our stability. For Homelander, there are precious few things in his life that offer him any such quality of solidarity. People come and go. It's the nature of the business that has always been his life.

He's stopped paying attention to the PA's, interns and other worker ants that rotate in and out. Their faces blend together in a bland sea of normality and mediocrity. They're little more than cogs in the machine of his contrastingly extraordinary life.

Funny, then, that you should catch his attention amidst the insectoid buzz of it all.

It happens quite abruptly. He's just sat down before a brightly lit vanity where it's your job to style his hair and makeup, as it has been for the last several months. You greet him good morning, as you do every time, but for whatever reason... He notices you today.

"Remind me, what's your name again?" Homelander asks, watching you draw a comb from your kit.

That visibly catches you off guard. You offer only a dumbfounded stare for a moment before snapping to attention, smiling sheepishly as you introduce yourself. The name doesn't sound familiar to him. Had he never actually asked? Probably not. There’s rarely a point in bothering.

He hums contemplatively. "You've been styling me for a while.”

"Yes, sir. About eight months now," you say, using the comb to begin working product through his hair. He’s fairly certain this is the most he's ever spoken to you in all that time.

That sounds like both a long while and yet no time at all. It's nothing in the grand scheme of his life, but in terms of the people he sees consistently, that puts you in a shockingly small pool of individuals. Inevitably they move on, whether by choice or because they’ve found a way to irritate him enough that he has them dismissed.

He can recall his last stylist not by their name or face, but by the way they’d always manage to spray product in his eyes. They hadn’t lasted two days. The one before that he can’t bring to mind a single detail of.

Typically humans only become exceptional to him for how they grate on his patience. You’ve somehow managed to avoid making yourself noteworthy in that regard. Before today you had served as little more than a properly functioning gear in the well-oiled machine of his life.

Now it's as though you suddenly exist to him. Blood, flesh, laughter and all.

"Gooood morning," he greets you the next day, once again triggering another flare of surprise in you. He’s aware of the strangeness of his initiation, but behaves as though he isn’t. He flashes you one of his trademark Hollywood grins.

"Good morning to you, sir," you say with an answering smile that catches his eye. You sound pleased, which tickles something pleasant in the back of his own mind. He likes how well you’re mirroring his shift in mannerism.

He waves his hand dismissively. "Please, Homelander is fine. You keep it awfully formal."

You're actually quite pretty, he notices. Not exceptionally so, not like the celebrities and figures of social influence that someone like him brushes shoulders with on a daily basis, but... pretty nonetheless. He doesn't remember you being this pretty before, and speculates while you work whether you've changed something about yourself. He cannot put his finger on what exactly that may be, though.

He’s perceptive when it comes to the things that matter. Until yesterday, you hadn’t.

You laugh sweetly, pushing your fingers through his hair. His eyes flutter shut as you do. You’re good with your hands, much better than the last stylist. He’s sure he made note of that at some point, but in the same way someone notices when a door stops squeaking. You take it for granted after the first time.

"I'm a creature of habit. Might take me a couple tries to adjust," you warn, covering his forehead with your palm as you spritz product into his hair. You never let any of that sticky crap get on his face, much less in his eyes. You take measures to ensure his comfort, even though he’s never scolded you. You seem to do it entirely out of reflex simply because you care enough to.

"Well, you've made it this far. You've got time to adjust," he says. Now that he's seen you, he finds that he doesn't care for the thought of you being gone. More than that, he starts actively looking forward to the time he spends in the chair with you. What used to be a monotonous aspect of the celebrity side of his life becomes a comforting ritual. 

The two of you chat with surprising ease, like old friends made new. He tells you about himself, vents to you about work and personal business alike. In turn he learns about you and the life you live beyond the time you share with him. It’s nothing extraordinary–not like his–but it's yours, and for some reason, that’s enough to make it interesting.

The more he grasps that you are an entire person outside of the service you provide him, the more he wants to know. He doesn’t give a fuck about your elderly cat, but he does like the way your voice changes when you talk about it. His mind drifts when you tell him these little anecdotes, and he wonders what you tell the people in your life about him. He wonders if your tone similarly changes when you do. Do you speak fondly of him? Days turn to weeks. Little by little, Homelander discerns small changes in himself. There’s a slight pep in his step these days. The sun feels a little warmer, the thrum of crowded events less irritating. His attitude towards interviews flips; even the ones he used to dread he begins to anticipate. He knows you’ll have him looking and feeling his finest. He knows that regardless of what awaits him, you’ll have something to say about it that will make it easier to smile for the cameras.

Thinking of you is sometimes all it takes.

When he has nothing on his schedule to be styled for, he sulks. On those days, he misses your laugh the most. 

He makes sure the products he keeps at home are the same as the ones you use. The smell of them reminds him of the smell of you, of your knock-off Dior perfume that fades too quickly after you apply it, which makes it just perfect for his keen sense of smell. The humble subtlety of you, your sincerity and gentleness, have become a boon against the unfeeling corporate reality of his life. On the days he does see you, he begins to miss you before he’s even left you. Now, as he walks to his next scheduled appointment with you, he’s painfully aware of the beat of his own heart. His stomach is twisting in on itself, though he isn’t hungry. If anything, he feels a little nauseous. The closer he gets to the door, the louder the cacophony inside of him becomes. Is he sick? That shouldn’t be possible, but he can’t understand what’s happening to him. Pausing just outside the door, he takes in a steadying breath.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Taking a moment to collect himself, he gives his face two quick pats on either side, shaking his head. Get it together, he tells himself, stepping into the dressing room. 

“Gooood morn–” Homelander cuts himself short, looking around the empty room. His brows pinch. He isn’t early. Pursing his lips, he takes a brief stroll about the room, clutching his hands behind his back. He peers down the hallway, cutting through the layers of wall with his vision. No sign of you on the grounds yet. He clicks his tongue. 

You’ve never been late. Unable to settle, he paces for a while. He has the thought to call you, but he realizes he doesn’t have your number. Why doesn’t he have your number? It seems such an obvious thing to have despite the fact he’s never needed it.

He’s just pulled out his cellphone to track it down from Ashley when the door suddenly opens and his head snaps up. The initial relief he feels is cut short, turning cold in his chest when the person who steps through the door is most definitely not you. “Good morning!” the woman greets him, her voice chirpy and grating in his ears. She’s not really happy to see him. She doesn’t know the first fucking thing about him. At most, she’s another sycophantic drone who’s only pleased to breathe his air. In his upset, she looks freakishly distorted, her smile overly wide and fake. His leather gloves creak as he curls his hands into fists. “Who the fuck are you?” he asks, voice as measured as he can manage it. His anger hits in an unreasonable surge, hot like lava from a volcano. This woman’s only crime is the fact she’s not you, and yet it’s enough to make him want to rip her head off her shoulders, spine and all. The woman hesitates in the doorway, her chipper demeanor flipping to a fearful one. “Uhm, my name is Lisa, I’m supposed to style you to–” “Where is my stylist?” he interrupts her, prowling towards her like a hungry predator. He says again, louder this time, voice full of anger and anxiety in equal measure, “Where the fuck is my stylist?!” “I– I don’t know!” Lisa yelps, stepping backwards from him. “I was called in as a last minute replacement! They said– they said there was an accident, or–” Homelander pushes her roughly out of the doorway, blowing past her with a frustrated growl. She hits the wall hard before crumpling to the floor like a lifeless sack of potatoes, but he doesn’t even register it. He calls Ashley, stalking down the hallway, his footfalls loud with fury. Why the fuck didn’t anyone think to tell him? “Ashley!” He snarls into his phone the second she answers. “Tell me where the fuck my goddamn stylist is.”

Homelander is at the hospital within minutes. The staff puts up a meager effort to enforce protocols, but he’s The Homelander, and after a lie or two, they eventually let him through. He hates the smell of hospitals. The sickly mix of bleach and illness, the buzzing of the fluorescent lights. They never should have brought you here. You should be in Vought’s med ward.

You should be with him. When he finds you, you’re sitting with the hospital bed halfway reclined, wearing nothing but a hospital gown. The vibrant reds and blues of his suit paint a sharp contrast to the stark white walls of the hospital room when he steps inside. You have a pudding cup in your hand, though you nearly drop it when you see him in the doorway. His hair is woefully unstyled, splayed loose in every direction from his flight. “H-Homelander,” you sputter, choking on your bite of pudding. You swallow, clearing your throat. He’s walking towards you. The closer he gets, the faster your heart beats in his ears. “What are you doing here?” “Are you okay?” He asks, blowing off your question entirely. He blinks and his vision flickers through your clothes and skin alike. He scans your body for internal damage, for broken or fractured bones. You’re not wearing a cast or anything, but he needs to be sure. You nod, clutching at the blanket, wearing your confusion plainly on your face. “Yeah, I’m okay, it’s probably just mild whiplash, but I’m getting an x-ray to be–” “You’re fine,” he breathes more to himself than to you, his relief palpable. He can hear the flustered patter of your heart clearly. With the adrenaline wearing off, he’s beginning to feel that sickly familiar feeling that he had experienced in the hallway; butterflies rampant in his stomach, battering their wings frantically inside him. His jaw feels tight, his tongue too big for his mouth. Staring at you now, frail and precious as you are in this ugly hospital bed, he realizes what’s the matter–what has always been the matter–he is deeply and incurably in love with you. “Are you okay?” You ask, taking in his tortured expression, his wildly wind-swept hair. The obvious concern in your voice and in your eyes churns his already twisting gut. “No,” he says, the response knee-jerk. Even though the room is still, he feels as though the world is spinning around him. “No, I think I’m in love with you,” he says, expression twisted up, like he’s figuring out each word as he says them. Your heart skips a beat, your breath catches in your lungs. It’s as if the words have paralyzed you. Homelander laughs. It sounds a little hysterical. 

“I’m telling you all of a sudden, but it isn’t new with me,” he says, reaching out to cup either side of your face in his gloved hands. “I love you,” he says, voice firmer now, the realization setting in fully. He looks slightly delirious with it. He’s discovered a secret that he should have known all along, that seems so obvious in hindsight. Of course he loves you, because you love him. The gentleness in your hands as you touched his face, the care in your fingers stroking through his hair far longer than both of you knew you needed to. You dedicated yourself like no other to showing him reverence in service of him, and is that not love in its purest form? And yet, you don’t look to share his elation. You look like you’ve been struck by lightning, expression wide and bewildered. You still haven’t taken a breath. Homelander’s smile falters. “What’s the matter?” He asks, tone dropping a touch. “This is good news! Great, even.” For every second that you do not speak, the beat of his heart feels heavier in his chest. Why don’t you look happy? Finally, you suck in a shaky breath. He watches you with all the intensity of a viper poised to strike.

“I…” You hesitate. You lift your hands and grip his wrists, squeezing them through the thick fabric of his gloves as if to convince yourself that he’s really there. Maybe the accident was worse than he thought. Did you hit your head? 

Panic swells in his chest. It hadn’t occurred to him you might not reciprocate. The thought makes him ill.

“I never…” your eyes turn glassy, welling with tears. “Say it!” he wants to shout, his own heart hammering loudly enough to nearly drown out your words.  “I never would have thought–or even dreamed–in a million years that you might love me back.”

love me back.

Like a dying ember roaring back to life, Homelander’s demeanor reignites, his faded smile broadening once more. 

“I realized it when I was worried fucking sick because you didn't show up,” he says, leaning closer to you. He’s brought the scent of ozone from the sky he tore through on his way to you, but all he cares about is the faint smell of pudding lingering on your lips.

He huffs a laugh. “They sent in some idiot to fill in for you. Like they could replace you. I almost tore her head off,” he says, giddy with euphoria. Your expression shifts, brows furrowing. “Wait, what? You almost-” “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he interrupts, his voice a low rumble. He can already taste you in the breaths you’re close enough to share with him, and he’s never been hungrier for anything–or anyone–in his life. You fall silent with a shiver, nodding minutely, eyes falling shut. “Please do.” His lips meet yours in a gentle press. He deserves a medal for not crushing you with the sheer magnitude of his desire. You all but melt against him, settling into his grip as smoothly as you settled into his life, his mind, his heart. When the two of you break apart, you make a breathless noise that shoots through him like a bolt of lightning. He feels hyper aware of your every sound and move.

God, how he wants to feel every part of you. 

You move your hands to touch his face and he leans into the softness of your caress. You’ve been close enough to kiss more times than he can count. The fact it’s only now occurred to him to do so seems like lunacy. Your eyes dip to his lips, your thumb brushes the bottom one. He catches it with a quick kiss and you laugh your sweet bell-chime laughter.

Pushing your hand into his hair, the wondrous joy in your expression becomes tinged with amusement. “And people wonder why I use so much gel,” you murmur, smooth the wild splay of his hair down with both hands, cupping the back of his head. Homelander smiles wide and boyishly, which prompts you to kiss him again.

“I’m not having some kind of brain bleed hallucination right now, right?” You ask quietly, the tip of your nose lightly pressed to his. He brushes his lips against yours between words. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he purrs, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Despite the ugly fluorescent lights and the dreadful hospital stench all around, you look resplendent in your joy.

He had been right. It was love that you touched him with. It had been subtle, imbued in your every movement, and for months he had soaked it up until, unbeknownst to him, he fell into it as well.

“Trust me when I say you’ll be seeing a lot more of me from now on,” he says, brushing your nose with his.

Maybe instead of tearing them limb from limb, he’ll send flowers to whoever the sorry son of a bitch that rear-ended you this morning was. Who knows how much more time he would have wasted before he realized he was utterly smitten with you.

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 7 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: There's a difference between sex and intimacy, and Jake is feeling the latter for the first time in a long time. When he tells you that it's important to make sure your partner knows what you want and need, your reaction feels like the nail in his coffin.

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, adult language, oral sex, p in v intercourse, 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

You weren't exactly sure what to think of the fact that Jake took the time to get out a washcloth and soak it in warm water before setting you down on the bathroom vanity and cleaning you up. He kissed you softly, nudging your knees so you'd spread your legs apart, and he gently ran the washcloth along your most intimate parts. Both of you were still naked, and even the sight of him soft while he took care of you made your heart pound.

He just took your virginity, and now he was whispering, "Take your time to get cleaned up and get dressed, Darlin'. I'm going to get you some more ice water, and then we can finish the pizza."

"Okay," you replied, unsure what else you should say. He walked out of the bathroom leaving you alone with skin that felt too hot and a nervous energy that you couldn't identify. You wished he was still touching you, so you quickly used the bathroom and dug around in his dresser drawer for a clean shirt before rushing out to the kitchen.

You felt a little sore, but it was a delicious ache that left you on the verge of smiling as soon as you saw him filling a wine glass with water in his underwear. "I'm ready for cold pizza," you announced, and he turned to take in the sight of you wearing his Texas Longhorns shirt with wide, green eyes.

Jake grunted in response as he headed your way with the wine glass in one big hand. When he dropped down onto the dining room chair he vacated earlier, he lured you over with his smirk and the sentence, "Nothing else is going to taste as good as you." Your steps faltered as you sucked in a deep breath, but he wrapped his free hand around your bare thigh. When he patted his lap, you met his eyes. "Have a seat."

You settled down as gingerly as you could on his thigh as he slid your glass of water next to the open pizza box, but your lips were already so close to his, you ended up kissing him. His thumb skimmed along your hip as he parted your lips with his own, tasting your tongue. He groaned softly, and your fingers threaded through his hair like that's where they belonged. Jake smiled against your lips.

"Alright, feed me some horrible pizza, or else I'll just keep wanting to taste you all night," he murmured.

You pulled away from him slowly and reached for one of the slices in the box. It was cold, and the cheese looked honestly not so great now, but you bit the end of the slice before holding it out for him.

"I don't know what you're complaining about," you said, licking your lips. "This is delicious."

Jake hummed as you fed him another bite from your hand. "I would eat this with you all the time." Your blood felt warmer as it pumped through your veins, and Jake leaned in to kiss your ear. "Do you want to stay over again?" 

His place was comfortable to you already, but you were in so deep. You could hardly understand how you got yourself here, having the best weekend you could remember with this man who you barely knew but for some reason were certain you could trust. 

But you took too long to answer, and as you stared at him with the half eaten slice of pizza in your hand, Jake muttered, "I can drive you home after you're done eating."

"No," you whispered. His gaze dipped down to your mouth as he frowned slightly, but you kissed him before you said, "I want to stay."

----------------------------

Jake was enjoying the nasty, cold pizza and the way you made him feel warm while you sat sideways across his lap. He was enjoying all of it too much. Just like he'd enjoyed you in bed. It was all too much, and he still wanted more.

You said you would stay over again, but what did he expect to happen tomorrow night? Especially when he could already tell he'd want even more. When he finally got you all snuggled against him in the bath earlier, you told him you had classes every morning at eight. He was going to have to drive you home at some point tomorrow, and he didn't know how to ask you if that was it. Or if there could be more.

He took another bite of the pizza from your hand and watched you nibble on the crust. You seemed contemplative, but that eager look was always there. "What's on your mind?" he asked, and you leaned against his shoulder, burying your face against his neck.

"Just reviewing the lessons in my mind," you whispered. "Making sure I don't forget anything."

Great. You were thinking about his lessons now when he just wanted to go off script. Showing you so much of himself the first time he had sex with you was probably his worst decision of all. He should have kept lesson eight simple, but instead he put himself out there, insisting he could show you more. Show you that there was a difference between fucking and intimacy. And now there was a pain in his chest. That's what he got for needing to be the best and somehow falling for you in the process.

Jake could feel your eyelashes flutter against his neck as your hand trailed down his chest to rest on his abs. You had no idea what you were doing to him, otherwise you'd definitely stop touching him like that. Or else you'd agree to never leave. 

"Is there a ninth lesson?" you asked softly.

All Jake needed was for you to always be safe and get exactly what you wanted. He tucked his fingers beneath your chin and tilted your face up so you were looking at him. "There's always another lesson," he said, kissing you softly before running his thumb along your lips. "Lesson nine: make sure you tell your wants and needs to your partner. Then everyone will be clear about the expectations."

"That makes a lot of sense," you replied, chin still resting in his palm as your fingers skimmed the top of his underwear. Your eyes were wide with innocence and something more. "So, what do you want?" you asked boldly. "What do you need?"

Jake's cock throbbed against your leg, and your lips curved into a little smirk. "Come on, Darlin'. That's not fair."

You dipped your fingers into his underwear and shifted your leg as you whispered, "What's unfair about it?"

He swallowed hard, wrapping his hand around your wrist before you could touch his erection. "This is supposed to be about you. Not me."

You moaned his name, sending his mind into a frenzy as your other hand tangled in his hair again. "I got exactly what I wanted, and somehow you also gave me something I didn't know I needed."

He closed his eyes as your lips met his neck. "This is about you first and foremost, Darlin'. Remember? It's never about the guy."

You kissed along his skin as you asked, "Even when he's as sweet as you are?" His hand left your wrist so he could cup your face, and before he knew it, you were wrapping your warm fingers around his cock. "I want to give you head if you'll let me. Or I want to at least try."

Jake's head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut as he throbbed shamelessly in your hand. There was no way he could make up an excuse or lie to you, not after the day the two of you had together. "I both want and need your mouth on my cock," he groaned, already wondering if he could last long enough to enjoy it.

He stood up and hauled you over to the couch where he'd made a mess all over you earlier, prepared to do the same again now. He kissed you hard on the mouth, hand rough at the back of your neck. You whimpered in response and rubbed yourself against him. He wanted you every which way he could imagine. He wanted you to experience everything with you. But right now, you were the one pushing him down so he was sitting with his hard cock hanging out of the front of his underwear.

You looked too good in his Texas Longhorns shirt as you leaned down with your hands on his knees. "I've never done this before. Just so you're clear about your expectations."

"Jesus Christ," Jake grunted, and you sank to your knees between his spread legs as your hand slid up to wrap around his cock. He shimmied his underwear down lower on his thighs, and you looked up at him before pulling them completely off.

"But I have watched porn," you promised, letting your lips brush along his tip.

"Fuck," he growled. "Every time you say that, I lose my mind a little bit more."

You gave him a little nudge with your nose, clearly comfortable around him. "Will you tell me if it's bad? I don't want to be bad at this."

Jake held eye contact with you and slowly shook his head as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock and gave him a little swipe with your tongue like you were enjoying a lollipop. His balls tightened up knowing you'd never had another man like this. Another slow swipe of your tongue and he had to reach for your cheek and stroke your soft skin to keep himself grounded.

"It won't be bad. It couldn't be," he promised, swallowing hard. "You're smart, and frankly guys are easy to please when it comes to some pretty lips and an eager tongue."

Your lips were a little puffy from all of the kissing between the two of you, and when you pulled him free, you gave him a little pout. "But I want to be good for you." He felt dizzy again. "I want to know what you like, the same way you told me to be vocal about what I like. You've had blowjobs from probably dozens or maybe hundreds of women."

You were probably overestimating those numbers, but Jake could barely think as you grazed him with your nose again. "Darlin'," he grunted without another single thought in his head.

"Should I... take this shirt off or something?" you asked, gaze innocent even as your lips brushed along him. "You know, to turn you on more?"

Jake laughed as his head tipped back against the couch, dizzy all over again. "If I were any more turned on right now, you'd have my cum everywhere."

"Oh," you gasped, voice sounding delighted, drawing his gaze back to your pretty face. That's when you let go of him to tug his shirt over your head, discarding it on the couch next to his leg, and all he could do was stare with his mouth hanging open at how damn bold you were.

He was hard as a rock as your tits swayed while you repositioned yourself, and then your took a few inches of him. It didn't feel like you didn't know what you were doing, and he couldn't decide if that's because you were a natural or because he'd find anything you did to be a turn on. Your eyes were trained on his face as you took another inch of his cock, clearly looking for some feedback, but all he could say was, "Please, don't stop."

You made a soft sound as you took more of him, and as soon as your lips brushed his trimmed pubic hair, you gagged. Stars clouded his vision as his fingers wrapped around the discarded shirt. You gagged again and started to withdraw him, and when he was able to look at you clearly, he was panting slightly.

"Does that feel good?" you asked, mindlessly pumping his wet cock with your hand while you waited for an answer.

He nodded and said, "I'm going to finish distressingly fast. Especially given how long I was able to last in your perfect pussy."

You looked so proud of yourself as you whispered, "Tell me what you like."

As soon as your lips wrapped around him again, he placed one gentle hand at the back of your head and muttered, "I'll show you."

-------------------------------

Jake's breathing grew more ragged each time you took him deep enough to make yourself gag. And you loved the sound of his grunts and groans as much as you loved the pressure of his hand on your head and neck.

"That's it," he crooned when you sucked on him just like he had instructed. "That's it, Darlin'." His hips were rolling slightly now as you licked and sucked, absorbing everything he said and did. While he only gave you subtle instructions, it seemed like it was all designed to make you more curious. And now you desperately wanted to make him come. You wanted to taste him and feel him in your mouth at the same time.

When you needed to catch your breath, you licked around his balls, and the sound he made was one of the hottest things you'd ever heard. "You like that?"

"Uh huh," he grunted, eyes wild as you did it again. "Fuck. Fuck. I'm getting real close. Jesus Christ, your tits look good. You're fucking killing me."

You smirked, knowing taking the shirt off had been a good idea. The only problem was that you wanted to taste him, but your pussy was also wet with desire now. He did tell you to let him know what you needed and wanted, so you went for it. "Jake, my pussy is soaked," you whispered before licking a steady line back to his tip. "Will you fuck me again later?"

"For the love of god," he groaned, rubbing his free hand over his face. "I'll do anything you want. I'll fuck you all night. Anything, Darlin'."

You felt strangely powerful as you took him all the way again, reveling in the way it felt to gag on his cock. When you bobbed your head, you could feel how tight his entire body became. Like a coil ready to snap.

"I'm so fucking close," he whined as you sucked. "You don't have to swallow." You frowned up at him with your mouth full. "You want to swallow?" he asked softly, and you nodded which made him groan again. "It'll be different than when I came on you, and some women don't like the taste."

You pulled him free and said, "I already tasted you earlier. I want to feel you to cum in my mouth," before taking him deep one more time. Jake moaned your first name as his fingers tightened around the back of your neck. 

"God damn, god damn," he chanted, cheeks ruddy. "So good."

And then he came, and you tasted him. It was shocking how suddenly your mouth felt full, but he tasted as good as he did before, and you tried to swallow him quickly. But you could feel some of his cum drip down your chin as you looked up at him. 

Jake dragged his thumb through it before coaxing your lips apart. You licked it clean before he scooped up a little more and fed it to you. His breathing was calmer now as his cock softened and rested on his thigh, and you couldn't stop looking at what you'd turned him into. He was somehow relaxed and also more keyed up than ever.

"I love the way it tastes," you whispered, already feeling your face heat up at the simple admission. "I already want more." You weren't sure if it was just Jake who tasted so good that you'd happily drop to your knees at the mere suggestion of it, or if it was every man. But his next sentence had you scrambling onto his lap.

"You already sound like a cum slut."

But you knew no shame whatsoever, completely naked in his arms. "Will you cum in my mouth again? Please?"

He kissed you, swiping his tongue along yours, and you could imagine just how that tasted. Then his fingers dug into the tops of your thighs, and he pulled you up so you were standing on his couch on shaky legs with your pussy right in font of his face. "I said I'd do anything you wanted, and I meant it. But right now this is what I want to do."

Jake was being bossy, and you loved it. He guided you where he wanted you, and then his mouth was all over your pussy. Lesson nine... lesson nine... make sure your partner is clear about what you want and need. "I want to come all over your face," you gasped, tangling your fingers in his hair to keep yourself upright as his tongue traced a devilish little circle around your clit.

"You will, Darlin'."

-------------------------------

The floodgates had opened. You were just as insatiable as Jake was. It was so late now as you and he worked through the rest of that box of condoms you found in his bathroom, exploring each other in every way imaginable. Every time he even looked at you, it was with more intent than he was used to, and that was just fueling how badly he wanted you. And you welcomed his every suggestion, surprising him at every turn with some of your own.

There was a condom wrapper abandoned somewhere near the couch where you'd asked him to fuck you doggy style. The lack of eye contact didn't feel any less intimate when he had his lips pressed to your neck and ear, coaxing your orgasm from you one word at a time. 

There was another condom wrapper on the bathroom vanity where he was currently giving you a slow thrust from behind where both of you could watch each other in the mirror. His cheeks were flushed pink as you gasped his name, and his lips connected with the side of your neck. "Good girl," he whispered, praising you every time you thrust back against him. "Get what you want. Tell me what you want."

The front of his body was pressed to yours, and he was gently squeezing your breasts, enjoying the look and feel of them as his thrusts made them bounce. You grabbed his wrist, never breaking eye contact in the mirror as you dragged his hand lower and said, "Make me come."

Sex was never this simple or this complicated for him before. Being with you felt effortless. Both of you were making your expectations known, and he was enjoying every second of being in your presence. But he was already hesitant about dropping you off at your dorm. When he kissed your shoulder and dragged his fingers along your clit, he knew he needed to say something about the feeling in his chest, but he just couldn't do it. That's not why you were here.

"I think you made me good at sex," you whimpered, bracing both hands on the sink vanity as you tossed your head back and came on his cock. It was beautiful. All of it. He slowed his fingers as you rode out your orgasm, and his hand came to rest low on your belly. 

"There was never a single moment when you weren't," he promised, and then you were kissing him over your shoulder. It wasn't just sex either, because now he couldn't wait to get you cleaned up and take you to his bed for the rest of the night. And that thought was enough to make him come inside you for what felt like the hundredth time today.

He was exhausted. Wrung out. He had nothing left to give you physically at the moment, but as if by instinct, you turned around in his arms to face him as soon as he was done grunting your name, and you tossed your arms around his neck. He kept you caged in there between his body and the sink in his dimly lit bathroom while you gave him the sweetest kisses, bodies slick with sweat. Neither of you said a word for a long time, even as the kisses tapered off so your cheek was simply resting on his chest, and he traced soft shapes along your hip. He felt you yawn, and he had to fight the urge to as well as he finally forced himself to take a step away from you.

"It's late, Darlin'. Let me get you cleaned up," he whispered as he removed the condom, not bothering to find the wrapper to join it in the trash can. He reached for a clean washcloth, and you let him take care of you while you yawned again, and then the two of you brushed your teeth side by side before he took your hand.

The window was still cracked from last night when you had asked if he could hear the ocean in his room, and he pushed it open a little further as you climbed into his bed like you belonged there. He was going to be completely unable to separate his feelings from the physical acts between you and him this weekend, but he tucked himself in behind you anyway. Once again fell asleep to the sounds of your soft breathing and the waves crashing in the distance. 

-----------------------------

I love them, but they are so oblivious about what the other one is feeling. Darlin', there's a reason you're so comfortable around Jake. Jake, there's a reason you can't get enough of her. Just a few more chapters left. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 8

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[ambrozjas]

the gang x reader who loves makeup ꨄ︎

the outsiders x reader (separate)

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

guys i swear i’m working on your requests i just wanted to use this as a filler to feed you guys while you wait, but trust me, i’m workin on it 💕 thank you for all the likes and reqs !! love you all xoxo

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

some curse words, makeup, reader is compared to “a girl in a magazine” in johnnys part, kissing?? i dunno 😭

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

DARRY’s thumb rubs along your thigh. he lay on his bed while you were sat at the desk besides him. you placed your vanity mirror on the wooden surface and had been working on your makeup for about half an hour.

darry had seen his mother put on makeup whenever she’d go out with his father, so he had a better idea of makeup than someone like steve or two bit. he liked whenever you asked him questions like ‘this or that’.

“which one? peach or mint?” you asked as you held up two lip glosses, the peach gloss in a soft pink tube and the mint in a sage green one.

darry seemed to think for a moment, humming in thought. “th’peach one.” he finally said, nodding his head in the direction of where you were holding the peach tube.

“thanks, dare.” you mumbled, your lips forming an ‘o’ shape, ready for application.

“why do you always put on makeup?” he asks, eyes fixated on you. a satisfying pop of your lips before you look over to him and shrug.

“dunno, makes me feel pretty.”

“you’re always pretty, darlin’.” darry continues, moving his hand from your thigh to your hand, interlocking both your fingers and squeezing.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“how d’ya get that thing so close to your eye?” SODAPOP asks. you’ve been doing your makeup for about ten minutes, soda watching you like a hawk.

“i just raise my eyelid and put the curler to my lashes, piece’a cake.” you shrug, mouth open as you apply some mascara. “really?” he asked, taking a glance at your drawer full of makeup products, an assortment of pretty colored tubes, he would guess were either for your lips or eyes.

“yeah, why? you want some?” you laughed, expecting a ‘no’ in return but got only silence. you looked back at him. soda had just shrugged exaggeratedly.

one thing let to another and you ended up perched on sodapop’s lap, his eyes closed as you decorated his lids with blue eyeshadow.

“soda—! don’t crinkle your eyes!” you exclaimed, your boyfriend simply chuckled and gently grasped your wrist. “‘s not my fault it tickles, babe.”

soda opens his eyes to look at you, pulling your palm to his lips for a soft kiss.

“you know, you just ruined the eyeshadow, right? your eyes are hooded so the shadow will get—“

“shh, i’m tryna be romantic ‘ere.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“oh, PONYBOY!” you squealed, dragging out the ‘y’ in his name and running down the hallway already carrying your makeup bag.

you poke your head in through the doorway to find pony laying on his bed, nose buried in another one of his books. he glanced at you, already suspicious of the fact that the rest of your body isn’t visible.

“huh?” he questioned, his eyes flickering between the words of the book. “you wanna be the best boyfriend ever and do me a favor, pony?” you grinned as you dragged out the syllables in his name.

“what’re you doin’?” he inquired. you started to step slowly into view, your bag held behind your back. “i just need’a see somethin’ real quick.” he sat up a bit as you got closer to him and placed the book on the desk next to his bed, careful to mark the page he was on with a bookmark.

you finally bring your hands around to your front, unveiling the small makeup bag filled to the brim with products.

“oh, no.”

“oh, yes.”

“no! you ain’t touchin’ my face!”

and before he knows it, ponyboy has a face full of makeup on and you’re finishing it off with some sparkly highlighter on his nose.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you had a date with JOHNNY at the drive-in, planning to see one of elvis’ new movies.

you had done your makeup, using the multitude of products you had in your room, and you looked snatched. your hair was cute, whether greased up or not, it never failed to look effortlessly gorgeous, johnny always thought so.

he was already waiting at the drive-in, accompanied by dallas who unfortunately was “chaperoning” him for the night, probably just trying to keep a lookout for drunk broads.

when you had arrived though, boy, was johnny astonished. his eyes widened at just the sight of you, it was like you were a princess walking up to him in slow motion.

once you had caught up to him and dally, johnny couldn’t help but mutter, “y’look like one of those ladies from the magazines..”, he gawked at just the utter sight of you.

“thank you?” you giggled and gave a quick peck to his lips. “i’ll get us a coke!” you jogged over to the concessions area with a bunched up wad of money in your hand. johnny watched you walk away, mouth still parted a bit in shock.

dallas, being the shithead he is, rudely tapped johnny’s cheek, making him close his mouth. “you’ll catch flies, johnny.” he said, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette.

once you two had actually sat down, dally chatting up some girl a few feet away, johnny turns to you. “s’that a new lipgloss?”

“yeah, you like it?” you asked, blowing him an exaggerated air kiss after.

“tastes sweet.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“c’mon, doll, it’s been like twenty minutes.”

“hold on, DALLY, i have to finish this wing!” you affirmed, your words altered with the way you opened your mouth so your skin would stretch, giving you the perfect opportunity with eyeliner and mascara. one struggle almost everybody goes through, is getting the other eyeliner wing to match the other.

“you’ve been at this for a while, just draw a line ‘n call it a night.” dallas insisted, he didn’t much like waiting, and he never understood why people took so much time just to do their makeup.

“no, you don’t understand. it has to be perfect.” you said, enunciating the ‘p’. you look at dallas in the reflection of the mirror and see him sigh in defeat and hollow his cheeks with another inhale of a cancer stick.

“you better not be smokin’ that thing in here, stinkin’ up my whole room.” you wrinkled your nose, the smell of cigarettes never leaves your room as long as dallas comes over.

“you do it too.”

“i smoke outside, not where it’ll penetrate a whole room full of cute things.” you rebutted.

“whatever you say, doll.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“do i look like a pretty princess?” TWO-BIT asked as you applied blush on his cheeks. you and his kid sister giggled at the sight. two’s eyes covered with all sorts of bright pinks and yellows and blues, colors that his little sister suggested.

“yes keith, you look like a pretty princess.” you said, watching two’s nose scrunch at the brush tickling his cheeks.

“what next?” you asked to his sister, turning to her as she held a finger to her chin in thought. then, it was like a light bulb went off inside her head. she grinned at you, a catlike smile that you returned, one that made two-bit worried about what would come next.

“lipstick.” was all she said, and immediately she handed you a bright red lipstick. you let out a soft laugh as you looked at two-bit’s expression, cocking an eyebrow as usual.

“you ain’t doin’ what i think you’re doin’, right?” he asks, then you wiggle the tube of lipstick at him, getting it closer as he shifts away. he placed his hands up in defense, “baby—! c’mon, you wouldn’t do that to your wonderful lovely boyfriend, would you?”

as he tries to scurry off, you hook your leg around his waist and keep him in place while his little sister laughs hysterically in the background. you grip his cheeks so his lips could purse, giving you the perfect access to apply his lipstick.

he ends up looking like a scrapped lisa frank design and that lipstick ends up in kiss marks littering your face, accompanied by ‘eww’s’ in the back provided by two’s sister.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“shit! it burns!” STEVE yells, his lips a cherry red with irritation.

“why’d you put it on your lips?” you threw your arms up, representing a ‘what the hell?’.

“thought it was your lipstick thingies!”

“why would you put it on your lips in the first place, steve?” you laughed and rushed over to get a paper towel and a few ice cube. “i thought it’d taste good.” he muttered, his lips a comical plump as he glared at the tube, feeling silly how he didn’t read the white letters on it saying ‘duck plump’.

when you came back, you sat down next to steve, gently wiping off the gloss before he snatched the napkin and wiped it off aggressively himself, desperate to get it off.

you both looked at each other before he looked down at the ice cube. “wha’s ‘at supposed to do?” he asked. you stammered, “i don’t know you were in hysterics! ‘pleasee! oh please get it off! it burns—!’” you cut yourself off with a laugh, laying back on the bed.

“yeah, yeah. whatever..” he grumbles, throwing another glare at the lip plumping gloss that lay abandoned on your desk.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ thank you all so much for all the love n requests, i swear i’m writing them just give me some time 🫶

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[xomakara]

Next Door To Forever

SUMMARY |  You thought you would never see the guy you'd have a one night stand with but when you meet Haechan again at a club and when you find out he's your neighbor, you can't help but be intrigued by him.

PAIRINGS | Haechan x Reader

GENRE |  college!student!Haechan, college!student!Reader, Nerd!Haechan, college au, one night stand, smut,

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, drinking, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (both male/female receiving/giving), public blowjobs, creampies, praise kink, pet names

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

LENGTH |  12,532 words

TAGLIST | @hisunflower

NETWORKS | @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Oh god, I hope this turned out okay. Maybe it's because I'm always the worst critic of my own work so I always never feel satisfied about it lol. Been awhile since I wrote a Haechan fic and lately, he (and Jaehyun) have been flooding my feed. I hope you all like it!

After moving the last of your boxes into your spanking new place that would be yours for the next few years of school, you flop down on the bare mattress in the middle of the living room that the movers left there. You were just thankful that they set up the frame. You really weren't up to doing any more heavy lifting and the mattress was the only thing left to do before the moving van left.

Your new place was located in an apartment complex that was a good distance away from the main campus. It was perfect for you because you weren't fond of all the ruckus going on in the dorms. You were a junior so the thought of having to live in a crowded building full of underclassmen was less than ideal. Plus you really weren't interested in going through all the trouble of trying to get roommates. So you decided to take this opportunity to live alone and get an apartment of your own.

Apartment hunting was no joke and you had been at it for almost two weeks until you finally found this place. It wasn't too far from campus but the price was right and the size was just perfect for you. The rent was pretty reasonable and it wasn't in a bad neighborhood.

You sigh as you stretch yourself out and lay your head on the pillow. You didn't have a TV yet or any furniture besides a mattress, a couch and a coffee table. That would be something you'd have to take care of later. Your phone rings and you pull it out of your back pocket and check the caller ID. It's your parents and you know what they're calling about. They're still trying to convince you to let them help with the apartment.

"Hi, mom."

"Hi honey. How did the move go?" Your mom's voice sounds through the speaker.

"Good. It's finally over." You speak into the speaker and run a hand through your hair, sweeping your bangs back off your face.

"We wish we could have been there to help." Your mom sighs through the receiver.

"It's fine mom. I managed." You sit up on the bed.

"Are you sure?" Your mom insists.

"Yeah, it's not like I had a lot to bring with me." You say as a look around the large empty space, save for the boxes lining the wall and the mattress that you are sitting on.

"Do you need anything? Any furniture? Food?" Your mom offers.

"Food would be great, mom. Thanks." You respond, suddenly getting the realization that you were hungry and hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.

"Your father and I are sending you a care package with some food, toiletries and other things you might need." Your mom says.

"Thanks." You smile, looking forward to the package. "You don't have to, y'know." You add.

"Don't worry. We'll also send the money that we would have used for furniture. Just go and get what you want and don't worry about the cost." Your mother says.

"Really, mom?" You ask, almost in disbelief.

"Yes, it's not a big deal." Your mother adds.

"But mom, you and dad are retired. I don't want to use your retirement money." You argue.

"Your dad won't take no for an answer. Besides, your brother and sister-in-law are sending you some money too." She explains.

You sigh in defeat. Your mom and dad had always been stubborn and they were hard-headed when it came to taking care of their kids. You didn't want to fight it, especially since it would be pointless. "Alright, mom. But make sure you take money from Minhwan-oppa and Nari-unnie too. I don't want you and dad spending too much money on us. I want you guys to spoil yourself once in a while."

"That's very thoughtful of you, sweetheart. We will do that. I'll text you when we send the package." Your mother replies.

"Ok, thanks mom." You say gratefully.

"No problem. Love you, honey." She answers.

"Love you too." You finish the call with a smile and lean back on the bed to rest.

You hang up and lay there in silence. It had been a long day and you were exhausted. You had been packing and moving for the last few weeks and the stress was starting to get to you. You were ready for a break.

Your phone rings again. It's your brother, Minhwan.

"Hey, oppa."

"How are you holding up, Y/N?" Minhwan says into the receiver.

"Tired but otherwise ok." You muttered. "Did mom talk to you? She's been on my ass about sending money to me."

"She mentioned it but I told her I wanted to talk to you first." He answered.

"Thanks, oppa. I appreciate it." You sigh gratefully.

"So, do you need anything? Money, clothes, food, whatever? I'm sending you an additional package with mom's." Minhwan tells you.

"Well, yeah. I need food and toiletries and stuff. But, I don't want to ask too much of you and unnie." You admit.

"Don't worry, I'll talk to Nari and we'll make sure you get everything you need. And I mean everything." Minhwan emphasizes the last word.

"Oppa..." You murmur, catching his tone.

"It's ok. You're our baby sister. Let us do this. Don't worry, we're not hurting for money. I'm a doctor and Nari is a lawyer, remember?" He laughs.

"Ok, I guess. But don't spoil me too much. I'm not going to be independent if you keep spoiling me." You frowned. "At least spend it on mom and dad. Buy them a trip somewhere or something."

"We'll take care of that too." Minhwan said. "But the money will be going to you first."

"What? But-" You stuttered, stunned.

"I gotta go, Y/N. Nari's calling me." You heard the unmistakable sound of her voice on the other side.

"Oppa-"

"I'll talk to you later."

He hangs up before you can say anything else. You sigh and close your eyes. You could use a nap right now.

Your stomach growls loudly and you sit up and stretch. "Well, I can't go to sleep now. Not until I eat something."

You stand up and grab your wallet, then head downstairs to the nearest convenience store. The streets were pretty quiet and there was a slight breeze. You could smell the scent of spring in the air and hear the rustling of leaves in the trees. It was a beautiful night. You reach the corner and turn onto the street where the convenience store is located. There are a couple of other college kids hanging out around the front door. One of them calls out to you as you walk past.

"Hey, Y/N!"

You stop and turn to look at him. It's Mark, a friend of yours that's in the same program as you, that also lives in the same apartment building. "Hi, Mark."

"What's up? Where are you off to?" He smiles at you.

"I was just gonna get something to eat. I just moved into the building, you know." You laughed.

Mark's eyes widened. "Oh shit. Was today moving day? Man, I would have helped you."

You shake your head and smile at him. "It's cool, I had a moving service come in and do most of the work."

"Nice. Well, if you need anything, let me know." Mark said sincerely.

"Will do. Thanks." You let out a laugh.

"Hey, what are you guys talking about?" Another one of your friends, Jaemin, approaches.

"Hey, Jaemin." You greeted. "We're just chatting. What are you doing here?"

"Getting some snacks for tonight. Jeno and I are watching horror movies at his place. Oh, wasn't today moving day for you? You wanna hang out with us later?" He asks excitedly.

"I'll pass. I'm tired and I still have stuff to unpack." You said, remembering the boxes stacked on top of each other.

Jaemin frowned. "Bummer. Maybe the gang will stop by and help you unpack."

You shake your head. "No thank you. I don't need Hendery and Yangyang causing a ruckus. Remember when we helped move into their place?"

Jaemin snorts. "How can I forget? The two were like monkeys, bouncing off the walls. Renjun almost got a black eye when Yangyang threw a shoe at him."

You laughed. "Yeah, that was pretty funny."

"Well, if you change your mind, give me a call. Or, if you're too tired, text me and we'll bring the movies over." Jaemin offered.

"Sounds like a plan." You smile.

Jaemin and Mark bid you farewell and you walk inside the convenience store. The fluorescent lights are bright and the music is too loud. You walk over to the frozen food section and pick out a few microwave dinners, a few bottles of water, and lots of instant ramen. You head to the cash register and pay for your food, then leave the store.

You make your way back to your apartment building and enter the elevator. The doors close and the elevator begins its ascent. The floor numbers blink as the elevator ascends and soon enough, the doors open again. You exit the elevator and head to your apartment. You keyed in your passcode and entered the small apartment. The lights were on and the air conditioner was working. You closed the door behind you and kicked off your shoes.

You put the microwavable meals and the bottle of water into the fridge, placed the bag of ramens on the counter and flopped onto the mattress that was still on your living room floor. You were exhausted. Moving was tiring but you needed to at least move your mattress unto your bed frame.

You laid there for a few minutes before getting up and dragging the mattress into the bedroom. You set it on top of the bed frame and began pushing the bed into the corner. It took a while but you eventually got it where you wanted it. You sat down and leaned against the wall, looking at the room. There were still a few boxes that needed to be unpacked but it was coming together. You felt satisfied and proud.

You stood up and headed to the kitchen. You grabbed a bottle of water and a packet of instant ramen. You poured the water into a pot and put the noodles in. You set the heat on high and watched as the water began to boil.

You looked around and sighed. You'd have to unpack more tomorrow.

You were too tired to think about it. You were ready to eat, take a shower, and crash for the night.

You took the pot off the heat and dumped the contents into a bowl. You rummaged around in one of the boxes that held your utensils and pulled out a pair of chopsticks. You sat down on the couch and began eating. After finishing the noodles, you went to take a shower. You stripped down and stepped into the bathroom. When you were done, you wrapped a towel around your body and headed to the bedroom. You rummaged through the boxes and found some clean underwear, a tank top, and a pair of shorts.

You put the clothes on and got into bed. It was only 8 pm but you were exhausted. You pulled the covers up and closed your eyes. You were asleep within minutes.

You wake up the next morning and check your phone. It was 9 am. You had a few messages and missed calls from your parents and siblings. You reply to their texts, telling them you were fine, and let them know that you were going to unpack.

You put your phone away and get out of bed. You go to the kitchen and start unpacking the rest of your dishes.

It takes you a couple of hours but you finally get everything in the apartment unpacked.

A knock is heard on your door, startling you. "Coming!"

You open the door and find Mark, Jaemin, and the rest of your friends standing in the hallway.

"Hey, guys." You say as you let them into your apartment.

"Yo, Y/N! What's up?" Renjun asks.

"Nothing much. Just finished unpacking." You tell him. The guys scan your apartment and whistle in surprise.

"That's good." Chenle says. "Need any help?"

You shake your head. "I'm good. But thanks for offering."

"Alright, well we're going out. Wanna come with?" Mark asked.

"Where to?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

"To a club. There's a new one that opened downtown and the guys are dying to check it out." Yangyang muttered.

"Dude, it's like noon. Isn't it too early for that?" You questioned him.

"That's why I'm saying we should go during the day. Less people, less lines." He reasoned.

"Hey, if we're gonna party, we gotta get there early. Gotta scope out the place and see if it's worth our time." Hendery smirked.

"Whatever." You rolled your eyes. "I'm gonna pass."

"Boo. Y/N, don't be a killjoy." Jisung whined.

"Do you hear something? Is the wind blowing or is it a ghost?" You ask, pretending to be surprised.

"Oh, fuck you, Y/N." Jisung retorted.

You burst into laughter and the others joined in.

"I can't believe you fell for that." You say, wiping tears from your eyes.

"You're the worst." He says, giving you the stink eye.

"Fine, I'll go with you all but come back at like 5 pm. I'm not going out at noon." You scoffed.

"Fine. Fine." They all muttered as they turned to walk away.

"And invite Jaehyun!" You called out.

"Boo! You just want to eye-fuck him all the time." Jaemin scoffed.

"So what?" You smirked. "He's hot. Can't blame me for appreciating a piece of fine man."

"Fine. I'll invite him. But don't get all touchy-feely with him." Mark frowned.

"Why? He's single. I'm single. What's the harm in having a little fun?" You retort.

"You're a player, Y/N." Mark sighed.

"You know it." You laughed.

"Just keep it PG-13, ok?" He says.

"No promises." You grin mischievously.

"Ugh. See you later." He says in defeat as he walks away.

They leave and you close the door. You spent a few hours organizing and rearranging your furniture and making sure that everything was in its proper place. You didn't have much to unpack.

You go to the bathroom and start getting ready for the night. You take a long hot shower and then blow-dry your hair. You put on some mascara and a light coat of lip gloss. You put on a tight black dress that showed off your curves and some black heels.

You check yourself in the mirror and are satisfied with the results. You grab your purse and head downstairs. Your friends are already there and are waiting for you.

"Hey, Y/N! Ready to get wild tonight?" Renjun smirked.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm always ready."

"Cool, let's go!" Chenle said.

The group heads downtown and walks a couple of blocks until they reach the club. The bouncer checks their IDs and lets them in.

The music is loud and the place is packed. The lights are flashing and the entire floor is moving. The place is dark except for the light over the DJ and the bar. Everyone is moving and jumping to the music. You see some kids from campus.

You take a moment to breathe in the atmosphere. The smell of sweat and alcohol hits your nose. The room is hot and humid and the sound of the music seems to vibrate through the floor. The bass is heavy and it pounds against your chest. You can feel the energy in the air and the tension. There's something different about being in a place full of strangers. You feel invigorated, alive. It's intoxicating.

"I'll get us some drinks." Yangyang said.

"Me too." Hendery said.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom." Renjun said.

"I'll come with." Jisung said.

"I'm gonna dance." Jaemin said.

"Me too." Chenle said.

"We'll find a table." Mark said. He grabbed your wrist. "Let's go."

The two of you push your way through the crowd and find an empty table near the back of the club.

"So, are you gonna try to hook up with Jaehyun tonight?" Mark asks.

"I might." You smirk. "Oh! Is that Ten over there?"

"You gonna try to hook up with Ten too?" Mark looks amused.

You shrug. "Maybe. Or Johnny. He's got some nice muscles, don't you think?"

"Y/N, you're unbelievable." Mark rolls his eyes.

"I'm a single girl with needs. Sue me." You laugh.

"I can't deal with you." Mark rolled his eyes.

You and Mark chat for a while, and then the others join you.

"Here, drinks." Yangyang hands out beers.

"Thanks." You grab a bottle and take a swig.

"Cheers!" Renjun says.

"To a fun night!" Hendery adds.

You all clink bottles and drink.

"Hey, I haven't seen Jeno around. Where is he?" You ask.

"He said that he's trying to drag someone out of hibernation." Jaemin rolled his eyes.

"Who?" Chenle quirked his brows.

"Haechan." Mark said, nursing a beer in his hand.

"Who?" You asked, confused.

"The guy who was with Jeno at the frat party. You remember him right?" He said, raising an eyebrow at you.

"I can't remember shit. I was wasted as fuck." You shrugged.

"Fair."

"So, where's Jaehyun?" You asked.

"Over there, talking to Ten." Yangyang pointed. "Hey! Where are you going?!"

The boys watched as you waved at them while you approached Ten and Jaehyun. They watched as Ten and Jaehyun gave you appreciative looks.

"She's unbelievable." Mark said, shaking his head.

"She's gonna hook up with both of them." Hendery stated, noticing the way Jaehyun snaked an arm around your waist.

"I bet she's gonna end up taking both of them home." Renjun scoffed.

"That's our Y/N. The best player in our group." Chenle sighed.

"What?" Jisung asked, confused.

"Nothing, Jisung. Let's just enjoy our night." Mark smiled.

Haechan didn't want to be here. He didn't like parties and he hated being surrounded by drunk people. He felt suffocated in the sea of writhing bodies that were all trying to bump and grind against each other. The music was too loud and there was an almost unbearable smell of sweat in the air. The lights were low and the whole atmosphere seemed oppressive. There were strobing lights flashing on and off that only seemed to disorient people further.

"Why did I let you drag me to this place?" Haechan muttered as he looked around the club.

"Come on, dude. Live a little." Jeno smiled. "Drink some booze. Relax."

"I'd rather stay home and read." Haechan replied.

"Dude, you need to get laid. When was the last time you got some pussy?" Jeno asked as he nudged his friend in the arm.

"A few weeks ago, remember? At that frat party? The one where I got too drunk and had a one-night stand with someone." Haechan rolled his eyes.

Jeno pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows, trying to recall the incident that Haechan spoke of. After a moment of silent thinking, Jeno looked at his friend. "Ah. Yeah, I remember. You were a mess that night."

"Yeah, thanks for that." Haechan muttered. "I can't believe you and the guys know her."

Haechan thought back to the night of that wild frat party. Jeno had dragged him along when Haechan tried to study at his apartment. They had arrived at the frat house and were immediately given red solo cups. They had joined the party, the sounds of hip-hop music pumping in the background. Jeno had chatted up the sorority girls and disappeared from Haechan's side. Haechan was left standing at the edge of the room, wondering what he was doing at the party.

He had gotten lost and had bumped into you. The alcohol in his system had loosened his lips and he told you the embarrassing story of how he was dragged to the party. You laughed at him and teased him a bit but soon, you began flirting with him. It didn't take long before the two of you had ended up back at your dorm room.

It was a drunken mistake. He remembered waking up with a pounding headache, a hangover that was more painful than anything he had experienced, and his clothes and underwear scattered on the floor. It had taken him a moment to realize that he was in your dorm, and another moment to remember why. The memories were blurred and faint but it didn't take a genius to realize that he had sex with you. And it had been a rough one judging by the bruises he found on his back.

"I can't believe you don't know her." Jeno laughed. "She's been friends with Mark and Hendery for a damn, long time before she met Jaemin, Yangyang, Renjun and me."

"And now she's friends with Chenle and Jisung?" Haechan wondered out loud.

"Yeah. She's cool, bro. You'll like her." Jeno winked.

"I doubt it." Haechan muttered. "She doesn't seem my type."

"How would you know? You didn't even know her name." Jeno cackled.

"Shut the fuck up." Haechan huffed. "It was one time."

"Come on. I'll introduce you." Jeno chuckled, walking off.

"Wait, no. Dude, come on." Haechan trailed after him.

"I won't tell the others that you two hooked up." Jeno laughed as he grabbed Haechan's wrist and dragged him over to the table where you and the guys were seated. "Yo, Y/N! Guys."

"Jenoooooo!" You called out. You were obviously tipsy and a little bit buzzed. 

Renjun tried to wrestle the bottle from you. "Give it up, Y/N. You're done."

"Oh, come on! Don't be such a party pooper!" You whined.

"Dude, stop hogging the bottle." Hendery muttered.

"Hey, Jeno. Hey Haechan." Mark greeted.

"Sup, Mark." Jeno fist bumped his friend.

"Hey." Haechan greeted, a little shyly.

"Glad you're out and about Haechan." Renjun smirked.

"Stop drinking." Mark sighed as he took the bottle from your hands.

"Noooooooo." You whined.

"Y/N, you're drunk." Mark stated, matter-of-factly.

"I'm fine. Just a little tipsy." You giggled.

"How much have you had to drink?" Jaemin asked, his tone stern and serious.

"I don't know. A lot." You confessed.

"Give me the fucking bottle." Jaemin said.

"Dude, you're cut off." Mark declared.

"That's what I told her." Renjun scoffed.

"Aww, you're no fun, Mark." You pouted.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Mark muttered. He turned to look at Haechan. "Thanks for showing up. You haven't met Y/N yet, right?"

Haechan gives you a quick glance before turning away, and pretends not to know you. He avoids meeting your gaze because the incident from the night of the frat party made him feel embarrassed. It was a spur of the moment thing and he hated losing control.

"Ohhhhhhh, so this is the guy you were trying to drag out of hibernation." You hugged Jeno but then you furrowed your brows. You leaned in to look at Haechan. "Wait...have we met before?"

"Uh, I don't think so." Haechan stammered.

"Are you sure?" You narrowed your eyes.

"Yeah." Haechan said a little bit too quickly.

"Huh, weird. I swear I've seen your face before." You peered at the handsome face and then it dawned on you. Those eyes, those lips, the moles on his face and neck, the shape of his nose. It all clicked. Your eyes widened and the liquor-infused brain of yours recalled what happened that night. How he had felt inside you, how he had begged for your pussy, and how he had given you a world-changing orgasm. It all came back to you.

"Oh my god." You muttered.

"What?" Jeno asked.

"We've fucked." You said out loud.

"I'm sorry, what?" Haechan gawked at you, shocked.

"You're the guy that I hooked up with a few weeks ago." You said, realization dawning on you.

"Dude, Y/N, shut the fuck up." Mark muttered in disbelief.

"What the fuck?" Hendery gawked at his friends, confused. "You two hooked up?"

"How do you know it's Haechan?" Renjun asked.

"Like I would forget that beautiful constellation of moles." You muttered. "It's him. No doubt about it."

"Dude." Mark gave Haechan a look.

"Dude." Jaemin also gave Haechan a look.

"Dude." Hendery also gave Haechan a look.

"Dude." Chenle and Jisung gave Haechan a look.

"What?" Haechan asked.

"When the fuck were you gonna tell us you hooked up with a chick from our group?" Yangyang questioned.

"You guys were never supposed to find out about that." Haechan deadpanned.

"Well we know now and we're all very interested to hear the story." Yangyang grinned.

"Not gonna happen." Haechan retorted.

"Boo. So uncooperative." Yangyang pouted.

"Hey, I was drunk. I don't remember anything from that night." Haechan defended himself. "Besides, I've never met her before until today. She's not part of our group. So why should I have told you?"

"Bro." Jeno looked at him.

"Bro." Mark also looked at him.

"Bro." Hendery also looked at him.

"Bro." Yangyang and Jaemin also looked at him.

"Guys, shut up. I don't want to talk about it." Haechan muttered as he tried to walk away.

"Wait." You grabbed his wrist.

"What?" Haechan paused.

"Can we talk? Preferably far away from these idiots." You said, glaring at your friends.

"Hey!" Everyone objected.

Haechan sighed, not having much of a choice. "Um, ok."

You get up and Haechan follows. You drag him outside and head over to a bench. Sitting down, you looked at the random people milling around the club. The vibe was completely different from a couple of hours ago and you welcomed the change.

"So..." You begin.

"So..." Haechan mutters, looking everywhere but at you.

"I didn't mean to put you in an awful position like that." You said, looking down at your lap. "When I start drinking, I tend to lose control and I don't know how to filter what comes out of my mouth."

"It's fine. Really." Haechan shrugged. "It's not your fault. Besides, it was a one-time thing."

"Yeah." You nodded. "We were both drunk. We didn't know what we were doing."

"Mhm." Haechan hummed.

There was an awkward silence.

"Hey, look." You began. "I don't want this to be a weird situation. We both have a past and it was just a one-night stand. What happened, happened and we can't change that. We hang out in the same social circles and sure, this is the first time I've officially met you but that doesn't change the fact that I have a connection with you, in a way."

"I guess." Haechan shrugged.

"I'd like to be your friend. Would that be ok with you?" You asked, nervously.

"Yeah, sure." Haechan nodded.

"Cool." You smiled.

"Cool." Haechan said, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Hey, um, would you like to go somewhere else and just chill? I kind of don't want to go back in there and hear the guys talk shit." You laughed nervously.

"I don't blame you." Haechan lets out a small laugh. "They're a weird ass bunch."

"You can say that again." You chuckled.

"Where do you want to go?" Haechan asked.

"Let's go to a coffee shop. I need to sober up a little." You replied.

"Coffee sounds good." Haechan nodded.

"Great." You stand up and start walking away. "Let's go."

"Uh, ok." Haechan gets up and follows you.

You two walked side-by-side and talked about random things.

"I have to ask." You began. "How are you a friend of Jeno and the rest? I've been friends with Mark and Hendery since we were kids and we became close to Jeno, Jaemin, Yangyang, and Renjun through college. I know Chenle and Jisung because they're sophomores and they hang out with Renjun and Yangyang. But how the hell do you fit in all of this? You don't really seem like the partying type."

"I'm not. Jeno dragged me to the club." Haechan said. "And as for why I'm friends with the guys, we met through a gaming app and then we met in real life and we just hit it off."

"Wow. I would've never expected you to be the gaming type." You chuckled.

"I'm a nerd." Haechan shrugged.

"Well, I don't think that's a bad thing." You replied.

"It's not?" He asked, surprised.

"Nope. I think nerds are super cool. And it's good that you have a passion. Even if it's gaming. And, I'm not saying that gamers are losers or anything. That's just my personal opinion." You clarified.

"Thanks." Haechan gave you a small smile. "I appreciate that."

"Anytime." You grinned.

The two of you continued walking, enjoying each other's company. After a few minutes, you arrived at the coffee shop.

"This is the place." You said as you opened the door.

"Cool." Haechan followed you inside.

You ordered your drinks and then found a table near the window. You're really glad you found this shop. It's cozy and warm, the smell of coffee is inviting, and the interior is very comfy, reminding you of an old coffee house in an old tv show.

"This place is nice." Haechan said as he looked around.

"Yeah, it's one of my favorite places to hang out." You replied.

You both sipped your coffee and made small talk. Haechan couldn't help but look at you every now and then.

"What?" You asked, catching him staring.

"Sorry." Haechan blushed. "It's just that, um, you're really pretty."

"Really?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Haechan muttered and took a sip of his drink. "Sorry, was that too forward?"

"No, no, not at all." You said, blushing a bit. "I'm just not used to hearing that."

"Really? I've been seeing people checking you out at the club." Haechan blurted out.

"They were probably drunk and not thinking straight." You waved it off.

"Maybe. Or maybe they just have good taste." Haechan smiled.

"Maybe." You smiled back.

Haechan let out a small smile. "You're different from what I expected."

"Different how?" You asked.

"I didn't think someone as outgoing as you would be interested in someone like me." Haechan said.

"What do you mean by that?" You tilted your head.

"I don't know, I just figured you'd be more into the popular crowd. You know, the athletes and the rich kids. Not the nerds and the losers." Haechan muttered.

"I used to be a nerd too, you know." You laughed. "Way before I started partying and dating and all that. Back in middle school and high school, I was the definition of a nerd. I had braces, glasses, wore sweaters, and kept my hair in braids."

"Really?" Haechan couldn't believe it.

"Yes. But once I got to college, I wanted to reinvent myself and try new things. And so I did. But just because I like partying and going to clubs and bars, it doesn't mean I can't still be a nerd and have my own nerdy interests." You took a sip of your coffee. "Sure, folks see me as that wild girl or the one who gets around. But they don't see the whole picture. And besides, I like to think that everyone has layers to them and it's just a matter of finding those layers."

"That's true." Haechan said. "I never thought of it that way."

"What about you? You're the type of guy that I never thought would be friends with the guys. Jeno is a party boy and the rest are just wild." You mused.

"I know." Haechan chuckled. "But when you have something in common with someone, you just click."

"True." You agreed.

"They're good people though. Even though I want to stay in and play video games all day, they managed to drag me out of my shell." Haechan says, smiling softly. "They make me feel included and that I belong somewhere. I appreciate that."

"That's good." You said, smiling. "So I know Jeno dragged you to the frat party and all, but did you have fun at least?"

"Yeah, I guess. The food was good." Haechan jokes, laughing lightly.

"The food was the best." You agreed.

"I'll admit, I wasn't a fan of the loud music and the crowds." He shrugged.

"That's understandable." You nodded. "It was a frat party. They're all the same."

"True." Haechan laughed. "I don't think I would've stayed long if it weren't for the food and the alcohol."

"You're a lightweight." You teased.

"I am not." Haechan pouted.

"Sure, sure." You laughed.

You and Haechan continue to chat for a bit and eventually, you two have finished your coffee.

"So, are you ready to go back?" You asked.

"If you are." Haechan said.

"Not really, to be honest." You chuckled, making the boy smile. "I kind of wanna stay here and just be away from the guys. And talk to a cute boy. Or am I being too forward?"

"Uh." Haechan was shocked and blushed a little.

"I guess that was a bit too much, huh?" You felt embarrassed. "Let's just go back."

"Wait." Haechan took your wrist.

"Huh?" You were surprised by the sudden action.

"I wouldn't mind talking to you longer." Haechan admitted.

"Really?" You asked.

"Yes." Haechan blushed again and turned away, muttering.

"Ok, then." You were laughing and Haechan couldn't help but stare. The way your eyes lit up when you laughed. It was mesmerizing.

"Come on." You stood up. "Let's go. We have all the time in the world to talk."

Haechan's lips tugged upwards and he stood up too. He walked with you outside. You kept on looking at Haechan and then suddenly stopped and paused, biting your lip. Haechan caught your action and his breath hitched.

"Are you ok?" Haechan's breath was haggard.

"Maybe we should go back to the club..." You suggested.

"Are you going to drink?" Haechan tilted his head.

"Hell no. I'm done drinking for tonight." You shook your head.

"Good." Haechan smirked. "Because I have an idea."

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow.

"You said you're a nerd. And I happen to be a nerd as well. Why don't we hang out and play some games?" Haechan suggests.

"I'd like that." You grin.

"Cool." Haechan smiled. "Come on. My place isn't too far."

You made your way to his place, noticing the familiar signs and landmarks. This all looked too familiar, and not just because you're drunk. This is the path you've walked on countless times before. In fact, it led straight to your own home.

"Hey, I didn't know you live in this complex." You pointed out.

"Oh, yeah." Haechan scratched the back of his neck.

"I live here too." You grinned.

"No way." Haechan was surprised.

"Yes, way." You laughed. "I just moved here a few days ago."

"I had no idea." Haechan remarked.

"I guess fate works in mysterious ways." You shrugged.

"That's for sure." Haechan agreed.

The two of you continue walking, enjoying the night breeze.

"I'll admit, I was nervous when Jeno dragged me to the club earlier." Haechan said. "But I'm glad he did. I never would've gotten to know you otherwise."

"Same." You smiled.

The two of you made your way to the elevator. Once the doors closed, you couldn't help but take notice of how close you were standing to each other. Your shoulders were brushing and you could feel the heat radiating off his body.

"It's weird how we live in the same building and we didn't know each other." You mumbled.

"Well, now we do." Haechan gave you a shy smile.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. You blinked a few times and stared at the hallway that you knew quite well.

"This is my floor." You muttered.

"Yeah, this is my floor too." Haechan said. He pointed to his door. "I'm down that way."

"No way! We're neighbors." You said with a surprised face. "I'm right next to you!"

"Are you serious?" Haechan laughed and shook his head in disbelief.

"Yeah! Now we really have no excuse to not be friends." You said, nudging his side.

You and Haechan looked at each other, both trying to hide the smiles on your faces.

"No wonder I've been hearing noises in the apartment next to mine." Haechan muttered. "It was you."

"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry. I've been moving a lot of things in and there's a lot of noise." You rubbed the back of your neck.

"It's fine. I'm used to loud noises." Haechan says, waving off your apology.

"I promise I won't disturb you too much." You assure him.

"No, no. It's fine." Haechan said, a smile tugging on his lips. "I actually don't mind."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

You smiled.

"So...would you like to come in?" Haechan asked.

"Sure." You said.

You and Haechan walked towards his door. You waited as he unlocked it.

"Welcome to my humble abode." He said.

"Thanks." You said as you entered his apartment.

The first thing you noticed was that it was very clean and organized. The second thing you noticed was the massive television screen that covered the entire wall.

"Wow." You said. "This is awesome."

"Thanks." Haechan smiled.

"You have a really cool set up." You said as you took in all the details.

"It's all I have. My life revolves around gaming, after all." Haechan said.

"Ok, what are we gonna play?" You asked.

"Why don't you pick something out?" Haechan gestured to his bookshelf. "There's a bunch of games over there."

"Really?" You walked over.

"Yeah, sure. Anything you like." Haechan said as he removed his jacket.

You went to his bookshelf and checked out the various titles. There were a lot of game titles you've seen before and even more that were unfamiliar to you.

"Hmm, how about this one?" You said as you pulled a case from the shelf.

"Oh, that's a good one." Haechan smiled.

You spent the night playing games and having fun. At one point, you were both so immersed in the game that you forgot how late it was.

"Oh my god, it's three in the morning." You gasped.

"Oh, wow." Haechan looked at his watch. "Time flies when you're having fun."

"Yeah, it does." You nodded.

"Do you want to crash here?" Haechan offered.

"Sure." You nodded. "Too tired to go to my place even though it's next door."

"Alright." Haechan laughed. He stood and made his way to his bedroom and returned with blankets and a pillow. He put them on the couch. "You can have the bed."

"No, no. I'll take the couch." You said, feeling guilty about taking his bed.

"Nuh-uh, I'll be fine on the couch."

"Haechan." You stood up, planting your hands on your hips. "I can't let you sleep on the couch in your own apartment."

"Why not?" Haechan shrugged.

"Just- It's not right." You didn't know how to explain without sounding stupid.

"I'll be fine." Haechan reassured you.

"Are you sure?" You asked, worrying.

"Positive." Haechan said.

Without a fight, you didn't argue any further. He led you to the bedroom. It's simple and cozy. Nothing super fancy, but the furniture is modern and stylish. It also smells of him. That familiar musk and sweet scent, which oddly relaxes you. He has a queen-size bed, a couple of posters hung up on the wall, and a desk and a chair.

"So, goodnight." Haechan says before he turns off the lights. "Sleep well."

"Night." You smiled.

Haechan turned off the lights and went to sleep. You stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. You were so excited and happy to finally have met Haechan. You were also curious about him and couldn't wait to learn more.

As you slowly drifted off to sleep, you smiled, thinking about your new neighbor.

And how the two of you will be spending a lot of time together from now on.

"So you ended up spending the night at his place?" Mark asked hours later as you met up with him and Hendery after your afternoon classes ended.

"Yeah." You nodded, unable to hide the exhaustion from your face.

"And you're saying you stayed up late playing games and not fucking?" Hendery asked, his eyebrows raised.

"We just played games." You shook your head.

"And nothing happened?" Mark tilted his head, questioning.

"Nothing." You shrugged.

"Damn, girl." Mark laughed. "Who are you and what happened to Y/N?"

"I don't know." You sighed.

"Did you like him?" Hendery asked as he opened his soda and chugged it down.

"Yes. But I'm not gonna do anything about it." You shrugged.

"Why not?" Mark asked.

"I'm not that kind of girl." You shrugged.

"You are." Mark and Hendery said in unison.

"Look, I'll admit that I have a reputation, but I'm not the kind of girl that goes for every guy she sees. And besides, Haechan and I had a really great time last night." You shrugged.

"Aww, look at our little Y/N being all mature and responsible." Mark said, pretending to cry.

"Shut up, Mark." You scoffed.

"You're growing up, Y/N." Hendery wiped away a fake tear.

"Just shut up. Both of you." You rolled your eyes, walking faster. Your friends just laughed and teased you even more.

Meanwhile, Haechan is spending the day trying not to think of you. But how can he when you're literally the only thing he's ever thought of?

Haechan knows it's stupid of him to believe you two were destined to meet. And yet, after one night of passion, the universe decided to play a trick on him and place you in the same building, mere inches away from each other.

Haechan didn't really expect anything the morning after, although he had a pretty nice time with you last night. But when he wakes up the morning after, the first thing he thinks of is how he wants to see you again, even though the two of you are not even dating and your one night of passion might be just that.

There's just something about you that draws him in and makes him want to be around you more. And the funny thing is, it wasn't just a physical attraction. No, Haechan wants to learn more about you. Wants to hear you talk about whatever you're passionate about. Even if that meant hearing you ramble on about something he barely understood or even didn't know.

However, being the shy nerd he is, Haechan has no idea how to act and what to say to you. He doesn't want to come off as needy or pushy, but at the same time, he wants to spend more time with you. He knows how you like it loud and wild and how much fun it is for you when people are around. But he's seen that side of you and you know the person behind those glasses. The real person who's a nerd, just like him.

He remembers the conversation you had with him the night before as clear as day. About you once being a nerd and how people didn't know about your gaming skills and interests. He can't help but find you more attractive when he's learning more about you. Your nerdy interests, the way you play video games, your humor. And he loved the fact that the two of you can bond over those things. It made him feel special, like it wasn't easy to come by. He's usually the first one to shy away from most people, but not with you.

A loud ring echoed through the air as Haechan snapped out of his thoughts and stared at his laptop.

"Sorry about that." Jeno quickly picks up his ringing phone, trying not to disturb his friends. "Hello?"

Haechan watches as Jeno walks away while on the phone. Jaemin, Renjun and Yangyang are too engrossed in their game, barely paying attention to him. Haechan decided that now was the best time for him to talk with them. "Guys, I need some advice."

"About what?" Renjun asks.

"Is it about Y/N?" Jaemin asks without missing a beat.

"What?" Haechan gasped. "How did you—"

"It's written all over your face." Jaemin deadpanned.

"Oh."

"Come on, just spit it out." Renjun nudged him. "Do you like Y/N? Because she has that effect on most of our male species, let alone on guys from other colleges."

"I mean...you guys like her, right?" Haechan hesitantly asked, his face heating up.

"Yeah. But it's not like we're gonna fuck or anything." Yangyang asked, clearly confused.

"She's a free spirit." Jaemin smirked. "She can do whatever and whoever she wants."

"I don't...look I just..." Haechan let out an exasperated breath.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just hear it." Jeno returned as soon as he hung up.

Haechan looks at each of his friend's faces, trying his best not to blush.

"Well," He says, fidgeting with his sleeves. "It's...it's just that Y/N is awesome." He stammers.

"No shit." Jeno chuckles.

"No, really!" Haechan exclaims. "And last night was so much fun with her."

"Did y'all fuck again? You were in such a good mood this morning, it wouldn't surprise me at all." Renjun says.

"No, we didn't!" Haechan shakes his head. "We spent the entire night playing games."

"Oh, I was about to tease you so hard, man." Renjun fake cries.

"Well, I liked hanging out with her and we played games all night, but there was nothing sexual or anything like that." Haechan said quietly.

"Oh." All of them speak in unison. They exchange confused glances and turn their attention back to the gamer before them.

"How can someone be that cute, man?" Haechan pouted.

The guys blinked.

"What?" Haechan furrows his brow.

"Haechan...you're okay, right? Like, mentally, are you okay? Physically?" Jaemin asked as he reached over to place his palm against the nerd's forehead. "Are you sick?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes, Jaemin, I'm fine. No, I'm not sick, thank you very much. No fever." Haechan slapped Jaemin's hand away.

"Seriously, man. We haven't seen you this cheerful and all smiles ever since...ever." Jeno furrowed his eyebrows at Haechan, confusion written all over his face.

"I have to make sure, dude. Because this isn't like you. You don't fall for people this easily. Especially after one night, mind you. And I've never seen you like this...ever." Jaemin shook his head at him.

"Come on." Renjun spoke for the first time. "Tell us everything and we can give you some feedback."

"Uh..."

"And be detailed." Jeno winks.

Haechan let out a long sigh before he explained everything that happened last night. How you both went to get coffee,  going back to his apartment, finding out that you were neighbors, playing and talking about video games, and crashing at his place. He even explained what happened this morning where the both of you said goodbye.

Once he finished explaining, his friends all stared at him in disbelief.

"Wow..." Jeno shook his head. "So, no sex, huh? Really?"

"Really. That's the first thing you ask?" Haechan asked incredulously. "Yes, really! For once, I wasn't the nerd that sat on his ass while playing games. For once, I had a good time! What, am I supposed to have sex every time I go out?"

"No, but—" Jeno starts.

"Listen. When Y/N and I were playing, I couldn't stop smiling. I had the time of my life with her and she made me feel great, and not because I got laid." Haechan looks at his hands and sighs. "What I'm trying to say is that I haven't felt that way in a long time. Just knowing that she's here, just an inch away and not at the club where there are a thousand other guys waiting for the same treatment. I couldn't have it any other way. Does that make sense?

Renjun smacks Jeno upside the head before anyone can respond to the question. "Dude, Haechan has a crush!"

"Ow. And finally. Took him long enough." Jeno grunted and rubbed the spot. "Now we can tease him even more."

Haechan blushed profusely. "I-I wouldn't call it a crush. Just because we had a good time. Like, yeah, she's hot, and a gamer and super chill, but—"

"Did you just call Y/N hot? Damn, you really are gone." Jaemin said.

Haechan slapped Jaemin's arm. "Shut up."

"But, like, have you ever considered that this could work?" Renjun asked.

"Have I...what?" Haechan started.

"Look." Yangyang says. "You guys fucked before. You guys are neighbors now. You guys clearly have the same interests. Kinda. And you are both available. Plus, you two seem to have this connection. So why not give it a shot?"

"Yeah." Jeno said as he took a sip of his coffee. "Besides, it'll keep you out of your bedroom."

"Or get you stuck inside a bedroom." Renjun snickered.

Haechan shoots him a death glare but doesn't say anything.

"What are you guys planning to do now? Just hang out? Play video games? Do the do?" Jaemin asked, smirking. "Just try to enjoy the rest of the semester and have fun with her. Who knows? It might even lead to more."

"Yeah." Renjun shrugged. "Besides, it doesn't hurt to get closer. You're both single. Might as well shoot your shot."

"Yeah, okay. Sounds fair." Haechan sighed. "Thanks for the advice, guys."

"Yo, that reminds me." Yangyang's face lights up as he opens his backpack and pulls out a pair of tickets. "Haechan, why don't you take Y/N to this?"

Haechan eyes the tickets suspiciously. "What is it?"

"It's a local convention. All these nerds are coming out. You know, for video games and comics and shit. If Y/N likes these things, then this is a perfect date." Yangyang smiles.

"I guess it's pretty interesting." Haechan picks up a ticket to examine the details. He tried not to smile at the thought of seeing you there. "Do you really think Y/N would enjoy going there?"

"Maybe, I don't know. What's stopping you from asking her though?" Yangyang asked as he raised his eyebrows.

Haechan looks down at the tickets and then to Yangyang's face, a slow smile spreads on his face. "Thanks, dude. You're right. It wouldn't hurt to invite her."

You let your gaze wander as you glanced at the crowd and wondered when was the last time you attended something like this. A comic convention filled to the brim with cosplayers and hardcore geeks and nerds. Some fans even had merch with their favorite characters, while others just came for the sake of it and maybe even for a date or two.

You caught a few people from your college as they had fun and watched a panel on some show or another, while some of them are doing some sort of art, reading a book or checking out the games that are in store. There is even a special guests section in one corner. You shook your head in disbelief, thinking how lucky you were that Haechan even let you tag along, seeing that it was usually impossible for you to buy tickets these days, seeing that the queue to get these is always filled and you are lucky enough to even have the chance.

Your gaze moves from the crowds around you to the person standing next to you, or rather the person you are currently leaning onto. You see that his eyes are also roaming around the crowds and that the people next to him are chatting, not paying attention to you.

"See? Didn't I say that it would be awesome to have you here with me? So far, we haven't even had any awkward conversation and we aren't bored, like my friends were yesterday. It's totally worth getting out of my apartment." Haechan exclaimed, a huge grin on his face.

You couldn't help but smile and give him a side eye, glancing at his side profile. Haechan is kind of adorable, with his big, thick, round, black glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles and the dimples that are displayed every time he opens his mouth or when he speaks. It makes your heart skip a beat and butterflies erupt from the pit of your stomach. His pink, soft and full lips are also incredibly kissable and make him look very sweet and innocent.

"Totally, Haechan. We could stay here forever." You say with a laugh.

"You think?" His eyes sparkle with amusement.

"I know." You bump his shoulder playfully. "Maybe we should come here together the next time one of these comes by. What do you think?"

"Definitely." Haechan says eagerly, smiling widely.

"Cool. But since this is just the first time that we've come here together, what do you want to do now, Haechan? Go shopping or take pictures? Or maybe we can watch a couple of the shows in the main hall. I bet you are really looking forward to this." You ask while pointing to one of the posters in the convention area.

Haechan thought for a moment before replying, "To be honest, I would have loved to see some panels. But we can shop too. How about you? Are there any artists you are interested in?"

"Sure." You agreed, looking back at him with a smile on your face, "It's totally okay to want to go and have fun. As long as we don't get lost, let's shop for whatever. I'm cool with anything, Haechan."

"Alright," he agrees, letting you continue leading the way.

"Hmm...Should we go and see what this year has to offer?"

The two of you start walking around and look at all of the new books that have been published, including the special ones with artwork in them. Some of those are signed, which is a huge bonus to collectors or those who can afford it. After a while, the both of you decide on the comics that interest you the most and buy two copies of each to make it easier. You also pick up a few books for your respective shelves in your apartment, the ones that you are sure will be treasured.

You wandered to a booth that was selling some adult content and flipped through a few comics. You bit your bottom lip as you read a pretty steamy scene on the page that you flipped open and imagined you and Haechan doing the same positions as the characters on the page.

"Found a comic that caught your interest?" You look up to find a smiling Haechan standing next to you.

"What?" You raise one brow and look over at the comic before placing it back on the table and walking a short distance away. Haechan watches you walk away but grabs the same comic that you put back down and flips the pages. Once he lands on the page that caused you to bite your bottom lip, he understands why you put it back down.

He blushes deeply as his eyes scan the steamy artwork.

He shut the book closed. "Um...are you ready?" He calls out, holding the book tightly.

"I'm almost ready," you tell him as you approach him, placing a few comic books in your shopping basket, "I need to decide between the second one or the third one."

Haechan grabs the adult comic and tosses it in the basket without you noticing and leads you to the cashier to purchase it. You never noticed and you were never aware that it was in your basket. Haechan was so stealthy that he managed to pay for the whole basket before you even noticed.

After walking for a while, you needed to use the restroom and pulled Haechan with you. Luckily you found a restroom with no stalls and after pulling Haechan into the room, you locked the door behind the both of you. Once he realized that there were no stalls, he turned red with embarrassment.

"Did you drag me in here because of that adult comic?" He questioned, fidgeting his hands in front of him nervously, biting his lip.

"Maybe. I saw that you picked it up while I was grabbing my things. Thought you were sneaky, huh?" You smiled as you walked up to him and grabbed hold of his hand, pressing it against your stomach. "Haechan?" 

You looked into his brown eyes as you pushed his fingers down under the waistband of your skirt. He sucked in a breath.

"Do you...uh..want to try it out?" You asked while grabbing the belt loop on his jeans.

"Try it out..." he repeated slowly. "Like right now?"

"Well...I mean...we're here..."

He was silent for a minute before looking back up at you. "...yes" he nods.

You pushed him to sit on the closed toilet seat and drop to your knees in between his spread legs. You stare up at his innocent expression.

"Fuck, I can't believe we're doing this in a public restroom," Haechan said, watching you slowly unbuckle his pants. You smirked, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

"What? Are you shy?" You ask softly.

Haechan narrowed his eyes, and you unzipped his jeans, pulling them down, along with his boxers. Then you raised your eyes and gave his crotch a quick glance, noting the size, girth, shape, color. When he noticed the way you were admiring him, he tried to hide his reaction, but ended up covering his face with his left hand.

"Haechan...we've already done it." You point out.

"Not with the lights on and with both of us sober..." he muttered under his breath.

"Shh..." you cooed gently, reaching for his length and stroking gently.

"We could get caught," Haechan murmured, still peeking down at you from his hand.

"I locked the door, it's okay."

"I don't think..." he mumbled again as he began to squirm.

His penis was growing in your grip as it hardened. Haechan shuddered when your thumb rubbed along the tip.

"Still embarrassed?" You ask quietly, kissing the base of his penis. You hear him take a shaky breath as you kiss all along his length, feeling his thighs tense as he tries not to move too much. He's holding back. You liked that.

"Yes," he responds a little breathlessly, and you lick the slit at the top of his dick, "Oh fuck," he murmurs and you hear the sound of his head hitting the tile wall behind him. You take the head in your mouth and begin to suck, sliding down his length inch-by-inch until he's deep in the back of your throat. His hand slides around the back of your head. His breathing becomes irregular and he moans as you begin to bob up and down.

Haechan didn't moan, or whisper encouragement, or try to control your motions with his hand, like you've experienced with past sexual partners. He allowed you to set the pace and you sucked and licked at your own speed, while he made quiet moaning noises as if he was trying to stay quiet but couldn't help himself. That drove you to push yourself harder, try to make him lose control. You wanted him to cry out, to grab the back of your head and make you swallow his entire cock as he exploded down your throat. You were almost aching as you swallowed around his cock.

It wasn't until you moaned quietly with his penis filling up your mouth and his tip hitting the back of your throat that Haechan moaned louder and gripped onto the back of your head.

"Ugh, Y/N." He groaned your name, tightening his grip and making your head bounce a little faster than you were before.

"Don't stop, god, you're gonna make me..." his hips suddenly rocked up into your mouth as he held your head there and you felt his body tense and his cock began to throb as he came in the back of your throat.

Haechan held you there and released in several spurts, nearly hitting your gag reflex at the back of your throat, but not enough to cause it. When you felt his hold lessen and his penis beginning to soften, you finally swallowed his semen. Then, you let his penis slowly slide out from your mouth with an audible 'pop.'

Looking up at Haechan, his cheeks flushed pink and his eyes half lidded and staring into the space above your head, he looked blissful and happy. That caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach and the beginnings of arousal to settle in between your legs.

Pulling his boxers and his jeans up, Haechan sits up a bit and blinks and the world comes back into focus.

"That..." he said.

You grinned cheekily. "Good?"

Haechan leaned down and pecked you quickly before whispering, "Thank you."

Your heart skipped a beat at the sweetness of that action. He really is adorable, you thought.

"Let me return the favor in the car, okay?"

You could only nod, knowing your panties are already soaked and wanting to ride his cock already.

A week after attending the convention, the two of you are hanging out in your apartment. You and Haechan are seated side by side and are currently gaming, sitting with each other in your living room. You are watching the TV screen and pressing the buttons on the console's gamepad, immersed in the game. On the television, you are fighting a boss battle against an over-sized monster. You and Haechan sit silently as the fight plays out, neither one of you daring to talk as the game has become quite intense. After a few more minutes pass, the big, final boss is defeated and you let out an exhale, throwing your controller beside you with an exasperated grunt.

"Fuck." You say, with a mixture of happiness and frustration. The game was fun, but frustrating. Haechan nods in agreement as he removes his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly.

"Wonder what Mark and the others are doing right now?" You asked.

Haechan opened his phone and scrolled through the list of messages. "Looks like they're headed to another frat party. Wanna join?"

"Nope. Early lecture tomorrow." You mutter. "And I was kind of hoping to spend some time with a cute nerd," You said and placed a small kiss on Haechan's nose.

"Good, cause I was really hoping to get to know that cute girl better." He whispers, smiling. You felt butterflies flutter in your stomach at his confession and your lips couldn't help but tug up into a grin.

You settled in to watch a film, Haechan had chosen some B rated comedy that you'd already seen ten times.

Halfway through the movie you felt his arm circle your shoulders and instinctively moved into his body, curling your legs up, wrapping your arms around his waist. His warmth and scent, instantly comforting, reminding you how safe you felt when wrapped up in his embrace. You hadn't realized, as your focus drifted onto how good it felt having him near you, how comfortable it was just to sit with him like this, that the feeling was returned in kind. His body relaxed a little, allowing him to settle deeper into the sofa cushions, while his thumb gently stroked against your shoulder, soothing both of you in equal measure.

Losing all awareness of the movie and your mind switching off from any task that might ordinarily pull at your focus, you simply enjoy the feeling of his warmth. At least you thought, you were both lost to the moment, as it wasn't long before his fingers brushed against your throat and up over your jaw to capture your chin. Gently, he tilts your head towards his, and you notice how his breath has quickened just the smallest amount. You can't help but feel the fluttering in your belly from that, as well as his warmth and the softness of his eyes in the darkened room.

There are only a couple of inches separating your lips. He slowly closes the gap, waiting for you to pull away. When you don't and instead lean into the softest kiss imaginable, he hums softly into your mouth. It's slow, teasing and almost lazy. A total opposite from the eager, impassioned lust of your first encounter together. His tongue explores the corners of your lips and across your teeth while he nips, sucks and nibbles lightly at your full lower lip. He tastes of mint toothpaste, his breath, and something sweet and earthy. It sends your senses into overdrive. Your fingers comb gently into the soft strands at the back of his neck. You need this, you've never wanted anyone quite as much as you want him right now.

It's so unfair really; that no one could make you this hot by simply brushing his lips over yours and then along the edge of your ear. His tongue tracing across your sensitive skin just behind your earlobe. That a single kiss to your throat was all it took to have you gasping, tingling all over and so turned on. And yet, you wouldn't change a thing.

“Can I taste you?" He whispered hoarsely, in a deep husk and you couldn't hold back a shiver of anticipation. "Every inch of you?"

How could you say no? And more importantly why would you. You nod with a tiny gasp and are rewarded with another light brush of his lips to yours. 

Oh, god. You couldn't stop now even if your life depended on it. And maybe it did. You felt so desperately out of control, as his tongue played lazily with yours, his lips suckling and nibbling on yours until you could do nothing but melt into him.

“Haechan…” Your breath hitched, barely able to speak, your mind swirling and intoxicated. “Do you want to spend the night? There's no reason for you to go back to your apartment. We could, um...keep this going, if you want..."

“Okay..." Haechan said softly as you stood up and pulled him towards your bedroom. The bed was a mess as you pushed him down on his back.

Haechan reaches down to pull his t-shirt off, and you straddle his legs, fumbling to undo his zipper as quickly as possible. In no time, you were both fully nude. Your lips and tongue meet Haechan as you roll over. He was straddled over your hips and was staring down at your naked body, licking his lips slowly.

"You're beautiful." Haechan breathed softly, tracing his fingertips delicately over your neck, collar bones, and shoulders. Goosebumps appeared in the wake of his touch and you closed your eyes and whimpered a little, tipping your chin up.

He captured your lips softly and slowly in a hot kiss that quickly turned fierce.

He moves to kiss the side of your face, and down to the base of your earlobes. Slowly his hot breath trails lower, over your chest and stomach and even lower. When his head settled between your legs and your breathing picked up, and you got up onto your elbows to look at him. Haechan made eye contact, looking so sweet, cute, and totally irresistible as he was positioned down between your legs.

A few seconds of heavy breathing and you decided you wanted his face against you, immediately. So you fisted one hand in his hair and tugged, getting his attention. Haechan quickly learned how to give the most incredible tongue kisses; just slow enough to tease you and enough pressure that it made your back arch. He kept at it with alternating soft and firm licks; swirls of the tongue that alternated with broad flat-tongue swipes along your wet pussy.

Haechan paused, breath hot and mouth still so close.

"Does it feel good, when I lick you like that, baby? Let me hear it, too. I've been dying to taste your perfect pussy and make it gush," Haechan spoke gently.

"God, where'd you learn to talk like that??" You gasp.

"In your books." Haechan pointed towards the pile of adult comics on your dresser.

You swallow. "Well keep going, because it's really fucking working."

"Tell me what to do next," Haechan said and sucked hard, while rubbing slow circles over your clit with one finger.

"Fuck me with your tongue," You breathe, and Haechan happily complies. You're absolutely soaking as Haechan makes good use of his hands as he flattens his tongue over your clit, then flutters his tongue against it. When his fingers dive inside you, your grip tightens and you tug his hair.

"Yeah. Haechan...keep touching me. Just like that," You tell him, a little breathlessly. You try to keep eye contact as you rock into the movements of his hand. When his fingers curve to find that spot inside you, your breath catches in your throat and you can't help it as your eyelids flutter closed for a moment. Haechan responds by latching his lips around your swollen, throbbing clit and suckling a few times.

That action combined with the internal pressure of his fingers pushes you over the edge. Your hips thrust wildly against his mouth and a strangled sort of whine leaves you, followed by gasps, groans, and mewls of pleasure.

When Haechan's hands finally fall from your thighs and he looks up at your flushed face, he chuckles softly. Haechan crawls over you, and presses his face in your hair, placing soft kisses down to your shoulder. "Good girl," he purred.

"Haechan," You said breathlessly as he lifted his head up, grinning. He moved down the bed slightly, positioning his throbbing dick between your wet folds. The sensation had your spine arching, your inner walls contracting around the emptiness, desperately searching for the fullness of him inside you.

You gasped as Haechan moved forward and eased himself inside you, stretching and filling you until you felt that intoxicating fullness. You stared up at his features and he blinked slowly, keeping his gaze steady on you, watching and gauging your reaction. You chewed on your lower lip and clutched at his biceps, nails digging into flesh and dragging down his arms.

"Move," You whimpered. His soft chuckle caused an excited chill to run up your spine and a sweet moan to leave your lips.

Haechan leaned down to kiss the side of your neck as his hips moved with his thrusts, his penis burying itself inside you with short, swift strokes.

The friction was heavenly. Each time the tip of his length touched against the end of your slick pussy, and withdrew again, he caused more ripples of pleasure to shiver across the surface of your skin. You shivered against the sheets below you, your eyelashes fluttering, his name leaving your lips in soft cries.

You opened your legs wider and wrapped them around his waist to let his length push into you more easily. You raised your hips off the bed, grinding yourself up against him. This elicited a groan from him, and your thighs clenched around him more tightly. The tips of your breasts rubbed against his chest and tickled. It felt so, so good...

"Haechan...please..." Your moans continued as his hands gripped at your thighs, spreading them further apart as he slowly increased the speed of his thrusts. "Don't stop, baby...fuck..."

His breathing grew rougher and shorter. Your fingernails scratched down his sweat-slick chest. Every time he sank his cock deep inside you, you could feel his tip kissing up against a pleasurable spot and it caused sparks to explode inside you. You were panting, crying out. Haechan could feel your hips lifting off of the bed to match his every thrust as his grunts and moans grew deeper and more lustful. You were so incredibly close, and by the look of his handsome, strained face, he wasn't far from finishing either.

"Fuck. Yes, Y/N...that's it. Say my name," Haechan uttered, his gaze now burning right into yours, and his body shaking a little. "Don't fucking stop saying it...I wanna hear your sexy voice telling me how good it feels when I fuck you."

The pulsing between your legs intensified and before you knew it, the familiar shudders rushed up your torso and shook every part of your body. "Yes, Haechan, right there, fuck. You feel so good. Don't stop! Don't stop!"

You felt his hips start to lose their rhythm. You closed your eyes and drew a deep breath.

"Oh god, baby, Haechan...just like that," You spurred him on, clinging to his shoulders. He gave a few particularly fast, desperate thrusts before groaning and pulsing inside you. That feeling sent you over the edge and you called his name, nails raking down his back and fingers gripping the sheets so tightly you swore your knuckles were turning white. 

Haechan kept rocking slowly inside you and he brought his palm up to the center of your stomach and circled his fingertips over the surface, rubbing down into your lower abdomen. You shuddered pleasurably at the contact.

"Don't take it out, stay," You told him quietly, eyes sliding closed, and you breathed out heavily through your nostrils. He murmured incoherently and continued massaging your lower belly while keeping himself buried deeply inside you. 

After a short time, Haechan pulled out slowly, leaving his warm semen to slowly drip out of you.

He made his way up to you and brought you close, draping his arm over you to keep you by his side. "Hmmm, you're so pretty...But let me ask you something."

"What?" You yawned and shifted over to rest your head on his chest, nuzzling into his warmth.

"Can we keep doing this? Like regularly?" Haechan asked and combed a hand through your hair.

You sit up and open an eyelid. "As in...?"

"You...me..." Haechan waggled his fingers. "And us having sex, together."

You laughed softly. "Seriously Haechan?"

He gives an innocent look. "It's not the worst idea, is it? We have a great chemistry, obviously."

You turned on your stomach and faced him, smiling. You brushed some of his sweaty hair off of his forehead. "I love chemistry."

Haechan smiles back and shifts closer, pressing your noses together. "So...?"

Your response came out a soft whisper. "Yeah."

"So, you're basically gonna be my fuck buddy?" Haechan tilts his head, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes. "How about your girlfriend? Hmm?"

"I'll take that option." He smirks and grabs you for a kiss. "So...shower first or sleep first?"

"Shower and then sleep sounds nice..." You trailed off and rested your hands over his around your chest.

He gave you a squeeze and a nudge to your rear to get you moving. With a grumble you threw off the sheets and followed him, making your way to the bathroom for the first of many wonderful nights together.

[warnersister]

“The silent treatment” Alfie Solomons x Reader

Alfie Solomons x Wife!Reader

You can’t stay mad and quiet at him forever, at least not if he can help it.

You looked Alfie in the eyes before you shook your head and turned around, walking away from your husband. “Where are you going?” You stayed silent, walking up the stairs to get yourself ready for bed. He creased his brows and followed closely behind you. “You can’t just stop an argument by not talking.” You didn’t even acknowledge him, just undoing the back to your dress and allowing it to fall to the floor; unclipping your hair from your updo and letting it fall.

Alfie felt offended: that was his job; you always let him take down your hair.

“Ziskeit, the silent treatment isn’t the way to go about this.” He told you, but you just wandered off to put your slip dress and slide into bed. Alfie was still stood in the doorway in disbelief, watching as you went on about your day as if you didn’t live with your husband of three years.

“Poppet-” click the lamp beside your bed turned off and Alfie’s jaw was on the floor, tutting at you. How dare you? He went about his own nightly routine, trying not to seem wounded by his lack of goodnight kisses and giggles as he’d tickle your neck with his beard. Eventually, he laid beside you and put an arm around your waist but it was shrugged off. “Look treacle I don’t care how fucked off you are with me, right. But I should be able to sleep comfortably with my wife.” He said, gruffly into your ear; moving again to replace his hand.

Again, you’d pushed it off. “Fucking unbelievable. Cant touch my own wife.” He’s grumbled, turning over and crossing his arms to try to force himself to sleep angrily when all he really wanted was your embrace on a cold night.

The next morning, he’d woken up to you doing your hair at the vanity he’d bought you for your last birthday. He’d walked over and pecked your cheek. “Morning ziskeit” he said and you said nothing, didn’t even look at him. He sighed exasperatedly. “Still doing that are we.”

He put his hands on the back of your chair and leant down to look at you in the mirror. “Real mature of you this, poppet.” He told you, taking the hair in the pony tail and wrapping it around his hand. “Knew I’d married a younger woman when we said our vows but didn’t realise I’d married a little girl.” He tugged the hair sharply. “Perhaps you need daddy to reeducate you, hmm?” You looked back at him in the mirror and shivered, and for a moment he’d thought he’d won. You just picked up the nice little expensive perfume bottle he’d bought you and sprayed it twice on your neck, getting him straight in the face. He just huffed and let you be. You couldn’t continue this forever.

He trudged down the stairs and went to make you both some breakfast, simultaneously tightening jars and putting cans higher than he knew you could reach, placing a plate in front of you when you’d arrived downstairs. But before you could even look at it, Alfie had wagged his finger at you. “Only girls who use their manners get fed.” He said and you narrowed your eyes. He took your chin in a hand and hummed at you as though speaking with a disobedient child. “Hmm? So? You going to ask politely, ziskeit?” You clenched your jaw and swatted the hand away once more, standing to go feed Cyril.

It went on similarly for the rest of the day, you trying to open things, to no avail - just for your husband to swoop in like some saviour and offer to do it “if you just say please” to which you’d throw the jar in the bin. Or when you’d stretch go grab something high up, even trying to climb on the counter, feeling hands on your waist “I’ll give you a hand, just have to ask, treacle.” And you’d jump down.

And it was like Groundhog Day as he found himself in the same position he was in yesterday. “Please loves, just need to hear your voice I’m sorry.” He’d pleaded, watching you undress ready for bed. “Right-” he’d grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, barely any garments covering your dignity. He gently dropped you on the bed and settled himself between your legs, ripping your undergarments off as he looked up at you “let’s see how long you can stay fucking quiet”

[m454d1e]

home life with osamu miya

involves : domesticity , marriage , children, the most self indulgent thing i've written in my life.

you’re always exhausted when you come home from work, the weight of of your job clouded around your all throughout the day, that was until you’d finally be in the warmth of your home, with your two children hanging onto your legs while your husband made dinner. you would smile as you picked up the older daughter, naomi, pressing your soft lips against her cheek as she giggled.

“were you good for your dad, baby?” you ask, gently brushing out the girl’s messy brown hair as she squirmed in your arms.

“yeah mommy, we were so good” she nods confidently, eyes wide as she gestures to her little sister, who was jumping while holding onto your black skirt. you pick up the younger girl, balancing the both of them in your arms as they cling onto you tight, seeking you warmth.

“do you know what your dad is making for dinner?” you, slipping off your heels and walking towards the main area of the household.

“uhh, some sort of grilled fish thing?” naomi shrugs, laying on your chest. she was a bit more extroverted compared to the other, who would rather intertwine her small fingers in your hair while listening to her big sister talk endlessly with you and osamu.

“mm, okay. how about you and hana go play for a bit longer while i talk to dad, okay?” you ask in a maternal tone, gently putting you daughters on the ground and letting them run off to their bedroom. you walk into the kitchen, gazing at osamu’s wide shoulders before coming up to him and sliding under his arm, letting placing a soft kiss on your neck from behind.

“how was work?” he asks, thick fingers keeping a cabbage head still as he finely chopped it, “the girls are always so restless when you’re gone” he murmurs,

“mm, it was tiring” you hum, leaning against his chest as you closed your eyes, “but it’s nice to be back home” you take a deep sigh.

“isn’t your project ending up soon? so i’m sure that you’ll have some more time for rest in a couple weeks” osamu replies, kissing your head occasionally, “then naomi will start school again and hana can go to daycare and we’ll have some time to ourselves, yeah?” he smiles against your skin as he puts the cut cabbage into a small bowl.

“mhm, i have a lot of lost sleep to catch up on, but until then..” you stretch, “having a 9-5 is horrible, i wish i could stay home with you and the girls all day” osamu pulls you into his large arms, gently rubbing your lower back.

“how about you go take a bath while i make dinner, and i’ll call you when it’s ready” he offers, moving his fingers to your hair where he takes out all the pins and releases the strands from the tight grasp of your bun, he gently rubs his fingers through your scalp, “dinner will be ready in about 45 minutes, so take as long as you’d like, okay?”

“samu i kinda wanted to have a bath with you tonight” you sigh, rubbing your face against his chest. he smirks, chuckling softly,

“okay we can have a bath later then” he rolls his eyes playfully, “you’re always a bit demanding after work, hm?” he teases, pressing chaste kisses against the nape of your neck, “but still, at least change and take off your make up so it’s easier for you to relax.”

you nod, taking a couple steps towards your bedroom and closing the door behind you. you let each bone individually crack as you stretch out, reaching for your wooden hairbrush and guiding it through your knotty strands. you move to your vanity and sit on the plush, pink chair, pouring some micellar water onto a cotton pad and patting it against your face, watching as all your make up from the day melted off your face, you then take off all your work clothes and change into your soft, yellow satin pajamas which fell loose around your skin.

you spend the rest of your evening engaging in a long dinner with your children and husband, still needing to spoon feed hana occasionally as naomi excitingly recounts her day at onigiri miya, since it was the school holidays and osamu needed to take her to work now. you’d listen intently to her descriptive storytelling, osamu gently rubbing your hand from under the table as he ate his dinner quietly.

“okay, naomi, go brush your teeth and get changed for bed, you too hana” you instruct, helping osamu clean up and put all the dirty dishes away as your daughters ran off. “thank you for dinner samu.” you gently press your lips against his as he pulls you into his arms, rubbing your sides as your chests meet.

“of course love,” he presses a lasting kiss against your lips, “help me by wiping down the table?” you nod, taking the wet cloth from him and cleaning up the areas he used.

soon enough you and osamu are smushed onto naomi’s twin sized bed, with your two daughters perched between the laps as he read them a bedtime story, you listened to osamu as he read calmly, lulling the two girls to sleep with every word he enounced. you smiled softly as you watched him, hana cuddled on his lap with her eyes closed and naomi leaning on his bicep as she admired the pictures on the book, small, tranquil moments like these were your favourites.

when the two girls fell asleep, osamu carefully lifted hana and took her to her own bed, tucking her in with slow movements as to not wake up the sleeping girl as you mirrored his movements with naomi, gently kissing her forehead before flicking off the lights and walking with your husband to your en suite.

the two of you sat quietly in the bath together, osamu working his fingers as he lathered soaps into your hair as you washed your body, he knew you were exhausted, so he also spent some time kneading his calloused palms into your back with some shower milk, he was a doting and caring husband, and it was evident in the way he’d treat you and your daughters. you smiled softly as you leant against his knees, letting him take care of you as you felt your own fatigue catch up on you.

osamu smiles gently, carefully drying your wet body as he lifts you out of the bath tub, he slides on a new set of silk pajamas as he pat dries your hair so it’s only somewhat dry before taking you back to the bed where he’d lift up the covers to your neck to ensure that you’re warm. then, he’ll change into his own pajamas, drying his own hair and spreading thick creams along his skin before joining you in bed.

he cuddled close to you, shifting towards your limp body with his arms wide as he held you close to his chest, stroking your damp hair as he let you rest after a long, productive day. osamu would watch your chest rise and fall, admiring each of your unique features as staying awake for a bit longer to watch you sleep, before falling into his own deep trance.

please like, reblog or follow if you enjoyed! yung carti yung carti - not proofread whoopsies i want babies sooo bad.

[sugrhigh]

CANT SLEEP - ( c.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- chris stumbles across your instagram late at night, unable to contain himself from participating in some self pleasure. but when he accidentally likes an old post, things get even steamier.

warnings- onlyfans!reader x subby-ish!chris, phone (?) sex, pretty much smut with a little plot don’t say i didn’t warn you

a/n: say you can’t sleep, baby i know! she’s working late but she’s definitely not a singer! anyways i hope you guys didn’t forget about me and enjoy this little fic. and thank you to the non who requested! (if you hate it im so sorry)

fucking instagram.

chris has a love-hate relationship with social media; it feels annoyingly formal considering the fame, but he’s also mutuals with lots of beautiful women because of it.

so it’s admittedly fun to scroll through the app once he’s alone in his room for the night, just like he is now, tapping his thumb to leave a like on the posts that really catch his eye.

and then a suggestion pops up on his feed, a tempting picture from someone completely different: you.

it’s a newer photo, from a day ago. you’re on the beach somewhere in the caribbean, trendy sunglasses perched on your head, covered only by a skimpy orange bikini.

all dressed up in his favorite color, just by coincidence.

he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, exhaling a long breath out his nose as he analyzes further.

you’re laid out on your stomach by the ocean, ass fully on display as you prop yourself up on your elbows. it only presses your cleavage further together, an entirely mouthwatering sight. the lighting makes your eyes light up, mysterious smile frozen on your face.

call me on my shellphone.

chris smirks slightly at your caption, mainly because he actually does want to hit you up. but instead he clicks on your profile, intent on learning more.

his eyes widen slightly at your following; he can’t believe he’s never seen or heard of you before this. your email is in your bio, along with the pleasant surprise that you’re based in LA. then he sees the only fans link pasted underneath.

and as much as chris wants to click it, he won’t. at least, not yet. so he returns to your public posts, scrolling to find even more enticing photos.

there’s one of you in bed, hair fanned out around you, a suggestive finger between your teeth. you’re promoting a lingerie website, dressed in a sexy red set that leaves very little to the imagination.

then a picture of you leaning over the side of a pool, water beading on the slope of your back as you look down the lense, plush lips parted in faux-surprise.

he’s getting far too excited, and before he knows it he’s palming himself through his pants, admiring all of the revealing angles and outfits. chris finds himself thanking all of the companies sponsoring you.

a moment later he lands on a photo that quite literally leaves him breathless. you’re on your knees, bent over a little vanity stool with your legs spread wide apart. you’re glancing back at the camera, clothed pussy practically begging to escape the tiny blue thong covering it.

he’s applying pressure to his shaft in bursts now, teasing himself as his hips chase his fingers. it’s only when he glances back at his phone that he realizes he’s accidentally liked the post, from over four months ago. he was too focused on the movement of one hand that he forgot about the other.

his cheeks redden immediately, frozen in embarrassment as he yanks his hand away from his lap. he’s not sure what to do, and (un)luckily enough, you’ve already seen that he’s stalking.

when you check the notification you’re surprised, in the middle of your regular scroll now that you’re back in your room for the night. you’re still at a resort in the bahamas, enjoying a much-needed vacation (though you’re still occasionally working).

but looking at chris sturniolo’s big verified account in your likes, on a post from a while ago nonetheless, gets you a little excited. it surprises you, him being on your page, though you’ve always been a bit of a fan.

you click on his profile, going right to his messages since you already follow him. you’re mostly motivated by the fact that you’re buzzing off a few fruity drinks, so you type out two letters and hit send.

hi

the dm comes through his phone a second later. it’s just a simple little word, but chris grows even more sheepish at the fact that you did in fact see his little slip up.

he bites down on the inside of his cheek, unsure of whether or not he should respond. but he’s already in too deep, and he doesn’t want to act like a complete loser to you. so he uses he taps the keyboard.

hey

when you see that he’s answered, you feel yourself get a little bit giddy. you were really hoping you wouldn’t scare him away, and the fact that he’s rising to the challenge impresses you.

nice to see you in my likes

i’m quite the fan

chris’s heart quite literally skips a beat. you’re toying with him, but he also gets the sense that you like it, that you want more. he’s still ridiculously horny, and actually talking to you isn’t helping, but he doesn’t care.

i think i might be a bigger fan of you

it’s far bolder than he normally gets, especially online, and he kind of likes it way more than expected. you can feel your body heating up at his response, rolling over onto your stomach on top of the plush comforter.

your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip, gnawing on it as you consider what you want to say. you don’t want to be too forward, but it’s also the name of the game.

cute :)

what were you doing on my account this late at night christopher

he swears his face can’t get any more red. he instinctively looks at his lap, at his still-hard dick, and he decides that honesty might be the best policy.

lurking

because you turn me on

you fully smile now, happy that he’s continuing to match your energy. it’s impossible to ignore the way you’re throbbing now, imagining all of the dirty ways this conversation could go, so you keep it up.

oh really now

what’re you thinking about hmm

you, in my bed

in my hands

wish i could feel them right now

View Photo

here, specifically ;)

the photo notification sends his heart beating out of control, and his curious finger taps it open without hesitation. it’s a photo of your bare chest, perky tits exposed to the camera, shirt bunched up by your collarbone. your mouth is parted just a bit, and chris audibly sucks in a breath.

he’s already slipped his hand back into his sweats, really stroking his dick this time. he’s so fucking hot and bothered at this point that he’s sensitive as hell, and spreading his own wetness only adds to the effect.

holy shit

want my tongue all over you

chris is fumbling around with the keyboard, toying with himself as he continues the conversation because he never wants it to end.

you don’t want it to either, considering nobody has ever really piqued your interest like chris has. you’re practically dripping from the conversation, already soaking your thin silk shorts.

but at the end of the day this is still your job, and you can’t give everything away for free.

you should video chat me rn

link is in my bio x

and perhaps you underestimated him, because you get a notification a minute later that someone has requested a private video chat, which is insanely expensive to do because of your recent growth.

you know it’s chris, even though his username was definitely randomly generated. but people don’t pay frequently enough for it to be anyone else, so you open the app and initiate the call.

chris nearly crawls out of his skin when his phone starts buzzing, even though he was expecting it. he has no idea why he did this because he’s absolutely terrified, but the need took over and he had to really see you.

and now he is.

the call connects and you pop up, laid back against your pillows with your phone propped up on something he can’t see. you’re already topless, and a moan slips past his lips before he can help it.

“hey there.” you purr, smiling slightly from his little noise.

“fuck, even your voice is sexy.” he groans, bucking into his hand without a second thought.

it just feels so good, and having you on the phone is making it harder and harder for him to slow down. he doesn’t even care how obvious he’s being; why hide it now?

“aw, touching yourself already? how needy, i was hoping you’d wait for me.” you tease, one hand trailing from your neck to your breasts as you speak.

chris takes note of this, breath hitching as he watches you slide your fingers lower. you toy with the waistband of your tiny pajama pants, pulling them down so slowly that it makes him weak.

and then you spread your legs, fully revealing yourself now in the dim lighting from a lamp that’s somewhere out of sight. his mouth hangs open, pupils blown out in pure lust.

“god, i wish i could taste that pretty pussy right now.”

it slips out naturally, which amazes him because he’s never been very confident when it comes to dirty talk. but you bring it out of him.

and the least you can say is that you fucking love it. a sigh passes your lips as your fingers slide over your slit, enjoying his facial expressions as he strokes his own cock.

“mm, i just know your mouth would feel so good,” you praise, yearning for more of him in a way that forces you to continue, “let me see you, baby. wanna watch you get off with me.”

chris’s cheeks flush slightly at the request, but he would do just about anything you asked at this point, so he blindly adjusts his camera angle. now you can see that he’s got his sweats pushed down, shirt resting above his happy trail, dick in one hand while he holds his phone in the other.

“fuck, you’d fill me up perfectly too.” you tell him truthfully, applying more pressure to your clit in fast circles at the sight.

he whimpers as he pumps even faster, spurred on by your words and your actions. he ogles as one hand teases your nipples, simultaneously plunging the other into your cunt.

that’s when chris finally hears a moan slip past your lips, and he swears he’s in heaven.

“shittt.” you slur, driving your two fingers deep into your entrance over and over, wishing they were chris’s instead.

“so fuckin sexy, m’not gonna be able to last much longer.” he compliments, even though he’s barely able to string the sentence together.

not that there would be any right words to describe the way he’s feeling. this is not at all how he thought his day was going to turn out, but it has to be the best turn it could’ve taken. his muscles are tightening, and the familiar pit in his stomach is growing.

“keep going. want you to come for me, pretty boy.” your voice is sultry and strained as you build your own orgasm up, clenching around your own hand as you curl them inside yourself expertly.

chris throws his head back, biting down hard on his lip to contain the primal growl crawling up his throat.

the pet name is just the nail in the coffin. his dick twitches and he knows he’s only a few strokes away from finishing, so he draws it out of himself in a way that allows him to relish the feeling.

the sight of him unraveling makes your head spin, and the rubber band in your own stomach suddenly snaps. you’re a shuddering mess, riding your orgasm out as you whine his name.

usually you’re careful to not let yourself get too into it, never falling deep enough in the fantasy. but then again, it’s not every day that a guy like chris ends up in your likes.

it’s unfamiliar territory for each of you in different way, but at the same time neither of you want this to be the last time you interact. his chest heaves, and you take a brief moment of silence to catch your breath.

“wow, that was…” he trails off, because he has no idea what to say now.

“yeah,” you nod, sly smile lighting your features up, “i think you’re my new favorite customer.”

-

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @inkyray @impureals @chrisactualwife @snowysosturn @fikefries @riasturns @beccaluvschris @realuvrrr @mattstromboli @pepsiboyy @gdsvhtwa @ginswife @ivonchetooo1239 @julescameronmf @autsturni @beach4life @mattspolitank @cupidsword @mattssturnz @anonymouslyachrisgirl @aflairforthedramattic @literallyjustrue @p1nkm6tter @vschrissturn @mattsturniolox @bigbeefybitch @tpwktahlz @goldengrapejuice @cherrybombpopcs @hrtz4alex2211 @sturnsjtop @slutformeganfox @katw4shereee @lizzy7777 @st4niolos @bigdic7821 @justalittle47 @mattsdirtylittlehoe @iihrtsturniol0 @bellasashylegs @xoxo4chrisss @miloisdone1

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Cod BF/GF Scenario

Bringing your boyfriend/girlfriend to Sephora (or a cosmetics store because of course my third world country doesn't have Sephora)

Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Valeria Garza, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.

Reader is described to be shorter than all Characters.

And yes I'm aware that some of these scenarios have the same characters because I thought they fit more than one.

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

A/n: Hii! Lia here, these past few weeks have been so freaking brutal on me lovelies but I wanted to write this to feed you guys <3 (Also, this is a 2.5k like special since I just reached it AHHHH)

My rules for requests and characters I can write for

Disclaimers/Warnings: None, OOC???, pure fluff haters be warned.

His arm is just perfect for swatches, lots of space, he lets out a deep chuckle whenever you take his muscular arm and compare the swatch side by side to your face to see if the color would match you. He fakes being annoyed but definitely doesn't mind that you drag him around, adorable dynamic between you being tiny dragging a big burly man around, in the lip product isle no less.

Characters: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, König.

Is the sweet boyfriend who saw your eyes light up the moment you saw the store and offered you to go in, again doesn't mind if you use his arm for swatches. Looks at the products that they think will look good on you and sometimes picks up a thing or two for you to try and will definitely do that fist thing that guys do whispering a silent "yes!" of accomplishment (this thing), they're so proud of themselves when you like the item they picked out.

Characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.

Goes with you because they like seeing you all dolled up, will pay attention and know when you're using a product that you bought with them during the shopping trip even if that was a few weeks back. So pretty for them that it triggers their possessiveness just a bit.

Characters: John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Valeria Garza, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.

Would tease you about liking these kinds of things but would silently admire you from your shared bed while you put skincare or makeup on, sometimes they use the skincare on themselves secretly and you'd just wonder why your skincare products are getting empty a lot quicker.

Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.

Doesn't want to be there but seeing you liking those things amuses them, will secretly buy something behind your back that they think would look so pretty on you and leave it on your vanity for you to find and will smirk if they find you using in a few days later.

Characters: Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Garza, Keegan P. Russ, Makarov. (For my delulu Makarov lovers ( it's so OOC though ahaha)

[entitled-fangirl]

Chance. (P4)

Aemond Targaryen x reader; Aegon x wife!reader

Summary: Things get messy quickly when she realizes Aemond's plans.

Part 1, 2, 3

Masterlist

..........................................

"Prince Aemond, there's been a riot."

Aemond stood tall, his back to the man. He turned his head slowly, taking in the guard's words. "And?"

"The queens and princess have been returned."

Aemond's head immediately shot to the man, his eye wide, "WHAT?"

…

"Please refrain from movement, your grace. I understand it is difficult."

She let out a soft groan, her jaw clenched so hard that she couldn't bring herself to speak.

The Grand Maester carefully moved the needle back through the skin, completing the first stitch on her brow.

Through the riot, her only major injury was a split brow. Easily manageable, though still painful.

Especially when she had to refrain from furrowing them when the pain came through. 

Sat up in bed for once, Aegon watched from afar as the maester pieced together his wife at her vanity.

He didn't try to speak. He didn't want to. Just watching. 

When the needle moved back through the skin, she took in a sharp breath, managing to not move her face besides the slight widening of her eyes. 

…

"Nonsense! Tell me." Aemond grinned.

"No! It's foolish!" She laughed. 

"I'm sure it's not. Just tell me."

She let out a breathy laugh at the thought of what she was to say, "Fine. No laughter."

He huffed playfully but shrugged, "Very well."

She took a deep breath before closing her eyes to avoid seeing his reaction. "Archery."

His eye widened. "Archery?"

She opened her eyes to look at him once she realized he was impressed rather than mocking.

He nodded, "I did not suspect that of you. Any good?"

She smiled, "My father would help me practice by throwing apples into the air."

"Did it work?"

She nodded with a smile, "Incredibly."

Aemond chuckled, "I'd like to see you with a bow in your hands."

She bit back her smile a bit, "Perhaps after our wedding."

"Oh?" He teased, "Are you trying to trick me, girl? Will I marry you only to find out you're horrid at it?"

She barked out a laugh, "Oh, yes. You've discovered my plan."

He smiled, "'Tis a good plan."

She smiled back, "It is."

…

"My queen."

She turned her head just barely to acknowledge his presence, "Aemond."

He frowned, "So informal?"

She let out a breath in amusement that quickly dropped back to her stoic behavior, "I'm afraid I'm not sure what to call you these days."

He hummed, moving further out on the balcony to join her.

He stared out at the city alongside her, "I heard of your recent… mishap."

She sighed.

He continued, "I am quite thankful you came out unharmed."

She scoffed under her breath.

He turned to look at her in slight anger, "Do my words offend you so?"

She shook her head, "You've no idea."

He let out a frustrated breath, "Then tell me."

She turned herself to look at him fully. The horrid sewing of her brow on display for him and a haunting look to match.

He had to hold himself back from gasping. It was rather horrid now, irritated and red. A striking difference to the usual calmness of her skin. 

"The maester said it may scar," she murmured. She then let out an unamused chuckle, "Perhaps you and I will match."

He gritted his teeth. "My people did this?"

She paused a moment at his choice of words, but continued, "War haunts more than just the warriors who fight it on the field."

"I'll kill them for you."

"You'll kill people fighting in these streets for their families? Wishing to feed their children at night? Do not waste your time."

Aemond jaw clenched. He forced himself to take a deep breath and reconvene himself, "Why do you not know what to call me?"

She stared out at the city, "You're a confusing man, Aemond."

"I'm not sure I understand."

She sighed, speaking with calculation but a tone of casualty, "You are the Prince. You are the King regent. You are my brother-by-law. You are our greatest warrior and fiercest dragon rider. You were my betrothed that I…" she paused as she looked at him, "And I still do not know if I can trust you."

He hummed and looked back out at the city, deep in thought. Finally, he spoke, "I assure you, I am no enemy to you, my queen."

"I have yet to decide that."

His head snapped to her, "How so? What is left to decide?" His voice grew rash, "I have defended my brother in battle and now I rule over his throne until he is well-"

"-He'll never be truly well, Aemond." She argued.

He sneered, "You must let me finish." He took a breath, "I rule in his stead, I fight his battles, and I care for his wife- all things he didn't want nor deserved from the beginning! He is weak!"

Her voice raised as she grew defensive, "Watch yourself!"

His eye scrutinized her form, "Do not pretend you are a threat to me."

"I am the QUEEN!" She yelled. 

"I. AM. THE. KING!" He roared and stepped up to her quickly.

She flinched away, taking a few steps back at the anger in his eyes.

Her voice returned to its quiet tone, "You've stated your fealty just then and there."

His face went from rage to surprise, then quickly to remorse, "I am not your enemy, my queen."

"And I almost married you," she stated. "Perhaps I married the right one after all."

…

She sat on the bed, watching the Maester help Aegon walk for the first time. 

Aegon took slow, painful steps and grunted and whines with each one. 

But a step was a step.

He managed across the room before his leg gave out.

Y/n quickly moved, throwing herself from the bed to help the maester catch him.

Together, they moved him back to the bed.

"He's making incredible progress, despite how slow it must feel to you, my queen."

She sighed lightly, "It is great progress. I am very pleased with it. Thank you."

He smiled, excusing himself quickly.

She turned her attention back to Aegon and ran a hand through what hair he had left, "That was wonderful, my love."

His eyes displayed the pain he was in. The whining continued softly as if involuntary escaping from his throat.

She turned serious suddenly, "I am going to ask you questions, Aegon. And… I don't wish to know the entire truth. You will either shake or nod your head. That is all. Understand?"

"Y… yes."

She look a long agonizing breath. She could ask anything.

"Did you truly slay Meleys?"

He shook his head.

"Is Princess Rhaenys truly dead?"

He nodded.

She sighed. "Did Aemond participate in the battle in any capacity?"

He nodded.

"Aemond and Vhagar killed Meleys?"

He nodded.

She bit her lip. How to word these questions just right?

"You were not caught in crossfire of any kind?"

He let out a grunt but shook his head.

Here it was. Just work up the nerve.

"Vhagar and her rider, Aemond Targaryen, released dragon fire upon you with the intent to kill you, knowing full and well that you were the king, Aegon Targaryen II? His brother?"

Aegon closed his eyes, beginning to hiccup and tears fell from his eyes and down his scarred face.

She stared at him, keeping the pity deep in her gut until she received an answer. "Aegon."

A curt nod.

..........................................................

taglist: @p45510n4f4shi0n, @darktrashsoulbear, @vieenr0se, @pez-unicorn, @marlenees-world, @thatbabydeer, @kahelis, @misspinkonmars

[yanderenightmare]

i love your hybrid au sm! the way you characterise each animal to suit not only it’s species, but the characters itself is so creative and nothing short of genius! so it got me thinking, how would you imagine the bnha characters as mythical creatures and monsters ??? ( eg. vampires, wendigos, harpies, werewolves ) etc.

Katsuki, Tomura, Hawks, Deku, Shoto, Dabi

TW: implied noncon, yandere, the supernatural?

gn reader

Shigaraki Tomura Ghost

You’ve moved into his old room, and though you furnish it a bit differently than he did when he was still alive, you’ve placed the bed in the exact same spot. It’s been all dust and dead moths up until now, it almost feels like he’s alive again as he sleeps next to your warm body.

It’s only small things in the beginning. Underwear that goes missing, unexplainable handprints on the foggy shower doors, your duvet on the floor even though you’ve never been one to kick it off in your sleep.

You’ve never been one to believe in the paranormal either, but something convinces you to search up the history of the house. You find out a boy had murdered his entire family here—parents, grandparents, his sister—and that the boy himself was never found.

Obviously, you shut your laptop with a bang and try and will it away from your mind. It happened years and years ago—whoever that boy was, he was long since dead. But the more it starts sinking in that you’re not alone, the more your belief feeds him—makes him feel real again, as though you’re slowly bringing him back to life.

Sometimes, you spot him in the mirror of your vanity, but when you twist around, there’s no one there. But you feel him—the gust of cold breath giving you goosebumps, the weight of hands and a chest pressing against yours at night, and the brush of coarse fingertips touching you in places—places that have you moaning his dead name.

Bakugou Katsuki Demonic spirit

He enjoys large houses—preferably something with a bit of history. But every now and again, some moronic humans decide it’s time to wreck the old and build something new—which means he’s often on the move.

He doesn’t mind living alone in his new house until you move in. He’s a little mad at you at first—he thinks you’re one of those wreckers, what with your renovations and whatnot—but then he understands that you’re preserving, not destroying. Apparently, the Gothic manor is your ancestral home built by one of your great-grandparents seven generations back in the 18th century—seems you were the only descendant who felt it was worthwhile to keep. 

He wouldn’t normally stay when someone else moved in—he’d often use his demonic means and scare them on their way. But with you, he settles for dwelling in the shadows, in the many dark rooms you haven’t found a use for yet. But when night comes, and you turn off the lights and go to bed, he can't help but end up in your room—watching you sleep, oh-so-peacefully and blissfully unaware of his presence. But he won’t do anything to you even though he could, even though you make it so easy—he’s grateful to you, his little housemate.

Your bedroom becomes awfully hot at night—you can’t explain it. Nor can you explain why the wind howling through the house sounds more like the groaning breaths of a beast. All you know is that your bed feels heavier than it should if you were the only one in it—and that you don’t dare twist around to see what it is sleeping next to you because whatever it might be, you don’t think it’s human.

You know it isn’t human. It’s too big to be, and its hands are too warm and too rough—and its claws too sharp where they rake into your skin and tuck you close to a chest that feels as though engulfs you. You don’t think it has a heart, only a stomach—and it sounds hungry.

You read up on sleep paralysis demons, and it brings you peace of mind, but only until night comes and you go to bed in wait. It’s the first time he talks to you. His laugh is like rusted clockwork, and his voice is like raked coals—hot and scratchy against your ear as he tells you how your human ways of rationalizing the things you don’t understand are cute and amusing.

Keigo Takami - Hawks Guardian Angel

Being a guardian angel has always been a fun hobby of his ever since the creation—he’s found it to be a nice break from all the other angelic duties he has bearing down his wings. Of course, it’s always sad when your human dies, but luckily, there’s always another one not far behind to steal your halo all over again.

You’re his most recent. He watches over you any minute he can spare, chuckling over all your silly human antics. And though he’s had plenty of humans before you in the long history of man and God, he can’t help but confess you’re his favorite so far. You’re just so cute with your big, adorable eyes and pretty smile.

He begins taking greater pride in his responsibility of being your guardian. He used to see it as but a menial little task he could take to when feeling up for a laugh, but something about you makes him want to watch over you every single second of every day.

And so he does—he has the feathers to spare, especially for something so important. But soon, simply watching over you doesn’t feel like enough anymore.

He knows it’s wrong—so very wrong—so much so he’s afraid he’ll be cast out if anyone were to find out. It’s not right for angels to feel amorous for humans—most would call it deviant and demonic. But he can’t help himself—watching you in your vulnerable state while you undress, bathe, and sleep.

Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.

Maybe he’ll come to visit you one of these days.

Midoriya Izuku - Deku Hybrid between fae and troll

He protects the forest and nurses all sick and wounded animals back to health, writing down the condition of trees and brushes in his notebook as he wanders for hours until he falls asleep in a moss bed beneath the stars. And though he knows his responsibility is purely to the forest, he can’t help but feel inclined to keep an eye on the little human who lives just beyond it. You’re just so cute with the way you walk the forest and sing songs you think no one hears—wearing your human clothing and living in your human abode behind walls and a door. He just finds it absolutely fascinating. 

Sometimes, you feel like there’s something following you when you walk about the forest next to your house. You’ll turn around to see a cluster of rocks and greenery you could have sworn weren’t there when you walked by—you look away before allowing yourself to think the pile looks an awfully lot similar to a larger human’s huddled form. But sometimes you hear it—the sound of stone scraping methodically, as though walking. You don’t humor the thought until you start finding his footprints outside your house, on the path to the forest—feet thrice the size of your own and sunken as though made by something very heavy.

Your legs go out from beneath you once you first see him—not like those times you’d turned around only for him to pretend to be part of the earth—this time, he’s pretending to be more like you, and it only makes it all that much worse. He’s bigger than a bear, grey-skinned with flecks that remind you of freckles and hair like fresh moss sprouts. His eyes are as green as the fox-fire fungi when night falls—glowing with nocturnal light. When you try to run, he follows suit, making the ground shake so bad it knocks you over. 

He carries you into the mountain where he lives and keeps you there from then on. After all, the part of him that’s fae has considered you his pet from the moment you took a bite of your first forest fruit. It was his gift to you whether you knew it or not, and now you’ll belong to him forever.

Todoroki Shoto Vampire

It’s an awfully boring world. Not much to do when you feel you’ve done it all twice over. The taste of blood has become stale no matter how many different types he drowns himself in at night. Sometimes, he humors the thought of setting his manor ablaze if only to watch the fire roar until the sun rears the top of the roof and finally puts him to eternal rest. But he’s been thinking about it for two or more centuries already, and he’s beginning to doubt his nerve.

Dead things can’t make vows, so he must go on as he decided to when he was still alive—that’s the curse—only another person can break it.

You seem doable enough when you stride into his manor with your little sharpened sticks and silver daggers. It’s been a while since a hunter has graced his presence. The scent of holy water makes him lick his fangs, and the nearly irresistible urge to drink you dry almost has him pouncing on you—but he knows it would be but a fleeting high unworth it in the end when he’d have to live another millennium without the warmth of the sun or another soul.

He drops down before you with grace. You have the tip of your silver dagger pointed up under his chin in the same second but get stunted by his pale porcelain face, showing no signs of aggression and rather riddled with a bleak sort of melancholy you’re not used to seeing on the godless creatures.

He simply stands there, straight-spined and high-headed, with his hands folded behind his back as though showing you respect—and then, unprompted and to your great surprise, asks if you would please make it quick and put him out of his misery.

Todoroki Touya - Dabi Hyrbid between incubi and vampire

He preys in nightclubs on those who have that mischievous glint in their eyes in dire hope their lust can match his. Every day, it’s a dozen new—he can never seem to find the right one—always starving and never sated no matter how much he gorges himself, always thirsting, always dying for more. 

Until you.

You’re but a dainty wallflower who doesn’t want to be there, but you have this scent about you—garden-fresh, like something he’s never smelled before, and his tongue yearns for a taste. He knows what it is once he gets closer to you—the opposite of sin of all things, it’s innocence, and oh, how he craves to devour it whole.

His silver tongue has had so much practice that using it on your gullible ears makes him all but drool, asking you if you’d like some fresh air. You nod your head, big eyes looking at him as though he were some sort of saint for offering. He laps it up—it’s all he can do to pace himself. But when he has you alone, it’s all over for you.

He’s going to corrupt every last piece of you until that once peachy keen taste of innocence has become an ever sweeter taste of syrupy sin. He’s going to make you exactly like him—and your tall fall from grace will leave you blasphemous and beautiful.

♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist