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#i like your white and gold dress
hyliagirl42 · 1 year
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ayyyyysexual · 7 months
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Tumblr on the Seven Seas
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🏴‍☠️ white-beard Follow
Can we stop all normalising the use of "sc*rvy" as a fun little thing to call people?? I literally had sc*rvy last year and it was even worse than when I got my hand cut off. Fuck anyone who uses the S word without even considering how triggering it can be to those of us who have ACTUALLY suffered though it
🌅 castedaway Follow
No wenches?
🏴‍☠️ white-beard Follow
Honestly you people are so insufferable I genuinely hope you walk the plank
🌅 castedaway Follow
AHOY???
🍑 plundermebooty Follow
Okay but OP is literally a landlubber, mateys
🌴 pegmeg
nahhh why is it literally always landlubbers faking scurvy and sending plank threats ☠☠
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🗡wagscallion Follow
everyone says "land ho!" but never "land ma'am"
💨 matelotsaboteur
Really makes you think
2,041 notes
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💃 crossdressing101 Follow
this whole crew was so gullible ngl, i just cut my hair and dressed in my fathers clothes and they all fell for it, hook line and sinker??
💃 crossdressing101 Follow
honestly im surprised no one has found me out yet. surely i dont seem that much like a man? i mean it makes this way easier but like. im still a woman. obviously
🕺 crossdressing101 Follow
mateys i have come to a shocking realisation,
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⛵ privatesteer Follow
wildest argument for piracy i've ever heard was that the gold stored on government ships is dangerous cause it weighs them down, so they're just 'lightening the load'
🧜‍♀️ kiss-pretty-ocean324 Follow
աaռռa ʟɨֆȶɛռ ȶօ ֆɨʀɛռ ֆօռɢ?
⛵ privatesteer Follow
no thanks
🕶 monstermaterdeactivated16520210
outta my way gayboy im boutta get it
🕶 monstermaterdeactivated16520210
i have drowned at sea
36,251 notes
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⚓ shiveringtimbers Follow
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14,811 notes
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🌏 boat-enthusiast Follow
i am SO sick of the term "ship-shape" like, matey, which shape?? Ships come in so many fucking shapes like have non of you ever boarded more than one vessel in your career???? Anyway fake ship fans DNI with this post i can NOT be bothered with your tomfuckery today
💦 longjohngolder Follow
girl its not that deep ☠
🌏 boat-enthusiast Follow
to YOU. i just get it
1,147 notes
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🙍‍♂️ dudeindistress Follow
honestly being held for ransom isnt that bad. kinda nice to be held
4,733 notes
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🦜 pollypockets Follow
SQUAWK
🐦 aviated Follow
CAW SQUAWK SQUAWK
🦜 pollypockets Follow
CA-CAW
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🍑 plundermebooty Follow
the cabin boy just winked at me?? after offering to help clean my gun? privately. in my quarters. tonight.
🍑 plundermebooty Follow
i think i hauve scurvy
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🌊 swabmydick Follow
mateys I SWEARR my captain and his first mate are gonna kiss before our next voyage. they literally have so much romantic tension every time i see them its nauseating
🕶 longjohngolderdeactivated16511205
wtf its so problematic and harmful to ship real people?? unfollowing rn i thought you were better than this
🌊 swabmydick Follow
i literally rob and kill people for a living?????? that's where you draw the line???
🌴 pegmeg
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op killed them
🌊 swabmydick Follow
even better news mateys, they kissed ☠☠☠
96,538 notes
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augustinewrites · 7 months
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dress + nanami
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“i bought you something.”
you frown slightly, eyeing the sleek box that nanami places on the bed.
“but i didn’t get you anything…”
he simply smiles, gently taking your hand and smoothing his thumb over the gold band adorning your ring finger. “allowing me to marry you this afternoon was the greatest gift you could ever give me.”
memories of your little ceremony still linger in the forefront of your mind. you’d married him atop a small rooftop garden filled with this season’s blooms, surrounded by your closest friends and family. you’d never been an extremely sentimental person, but the way he’d gazed at you and whispered vows meant for your ears and yours alone…you’d hold that close to your heart forever.
“no take backs, by the way,” you say when you feel tears prick at the back of your eyes once more. “you’re stuck with me, even though i snore.” 
“your snores are adorable. like a bunny holding a chainsaw.”
“hey!” you laugh, letting him wrap his arms around you from behind, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. 
“just let your husband spoil you, hm?”
nanami loves to spoil you. he’s always had such lovely taste, picking soft, pretty things that catch his eye in shop windows— a pair of leather gloves, a stylish sweater, a diamond bracelet. each gift is thoughtful, always complimenting you perfectly,
you lift the lid of the box, peeling back layers of tissue paper to reveal a delicate, silky white dress.
“kento…” you breathe, feeling his lips curl into a smile against your skin. gingerly, you lift the feather-light dress by dainty straps, taking in the cowl neck and tasteful high slit. 
simple, yet elegant, like him. 
“for you to wear to the reception,” he murmurs, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. “do you like it?”
“i love it,” you tell him truthfully, turning to look at him. “help me put it on?” 
your husband couldn’t look more pleased, especially when deft fingers undo the back of your bespoke wedding gown and he sees what you’d snuck on underneath.
but nanami is nothing if not efficient, clearing his throat before helping you step out of your current dress and into your new one, the material gliding against your skin like butter.
“you’re a vision,” he whispers, brushing another kiss to the back of your neck. with heat in your cheeks, you turn in his embrace, bringing your lips up to his. 
the rest of the world begins to melt away, as it often does when you’re with him. but it’s different now. it’s different because in the eyes of the law, you’ve chosen him and he’s chosen you. 
so you share eager kisses in the warm lamplight of the hotel room, his hands gentle as they slide over the smooth material of your dress. 
and eventually, up the slit resting atop your thigh. his warm hands rest on your bare skin, setting off sparks of pleasure up your spine.
“we shouldn’t,” you breathe as he plants open mouthed kisses on the hollow of your throat. “we need to check on our guests— you know satoru gets weepy when he’s had more than one drink.” 
nanami pulls back to look at you, pupils blown with desire as he takes in your smeared lipstick and wide-eyed stare.
he responds by pulling you close with his grip on your hips, a groan slipping past your lips as he does so. 
“they can wait,” he tells you, walking you backwards until your knees buckle against the edge of the bed. “i’ve waited long enough to be alone with my wife.”
he’s waited for this moment even when he hadn’t realized he’d wanted this, wanted you. he’s wanted it since the days you’d shared at jujutsu tech, when he’d been a besotted schoolboy, pining after his classmate. 
nanami’s always been a patient man—
he yanks the skirt of your new dress up around your hips and kisses a trail down your chest.
— except when he’s not.
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redsray · 4 months
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Batkids playing any kind of board game but make it extra competitive because whoever wins gets to choose what Bruce wears for the next gala.
Bruce, in a sparkly top and skinny jeans:
Reporter: Ah, who chose your outfit tonight, Brucie?
Bruce: That'd be my eldest, dear!
Dick, behind him, full into the gala persona: Flattering, isn't it? He should wear it more often, don't you think, sweetheart?
Reporter, flushed: Oh, absolutely.
Bruce (to Dick): Get a new fashion style. Please.
Dick: Never.
Reporter: Who would be responsible for your wardrobe tonight, Brucie? It's certainly a statement.
Bruce, head to toe in a pink suit and Hello Kitty accessories: Gorgeous, isn't it? All the credit will have to be given to Jason, though, I'm afraid.
Reporter: Your second son, if I'm not mistaken?
Bruce: The very one.
Jason from across the gala hall, trying to not cough up his drink with laughter:
Tim, next to him: He's pulling it off, though. Little spins and everything.
Jason: Still ridiculous. That's Batman right there, Timbo.
Tim, snickering: The Dark Knight, huh?
Bruce, dressed in a collared white shirt, sweater and skirt, looking like he just came out of a light academia novel:
Reporter: Wow, Brucie. Who do we thank for that wonderful outfit choice?
Bruce: Ah, flattering, is it not? Tim's choices when it comes to fashion are wonderful, if not a bit simple.
Tim, nodding from behind him: Only the finest satin skirts. Charming, right?
Tim, to Bruce: Don't call my style simple, Mr. all I wear is black.
[Jason handing Dick $10 in the background because Bruce does, in fact, pull off a skirt.]
Reporter: Oh lord, what a gown! Who influenced your fashion choice tonight, Brucie?
Bruce, in a long green and black gown with gold accessories, nothing short of royal-looking: I fear only one person I know could choose an outfit as gorgeous as this one.
Damian, proudly next to him, in a smaller, matching gown: Only the most exquisite. You lot in this flimsy country cannot compare.
Bruce: Yes, Damian has a fine taste in fashion. He gets it from his mother.
Damian, quieter: Well certainly not from you.
Bruce, dressed in an elegant white dress shirt, long black pants and a corset with red accessories, a fan in his right hand:
Reporter: What an entrance! Anyone to give credit to for the wardrobe, Brucie?
Bruce: That'd be my daughter, she certainly shines with her choice of clothing.
Cass, grinning with a matching fan: Very pretty.
Bruce: Thank you, Cass.
Reporter: Woah, that's certainly new. Any reason for this choice of clothes, Brucie, dear?
Bruce, in a snapback cap, loose jeans and a band t-shirt, complete with rings and a chain around his neck: Well, all of my children are creative, but... Duke might just take the cake for this one, love.
Duke, losing his absolute shit next to Jason, Dick and Tim: You look great, B.
Steph doesn't usually go to galas, but she participates in the game nevertheless. If she wins, god help Bruce, because it's a gamble with her. He either ends up wearing a gorgeous outfit with eccentric and trend-setting accessories or literal checkered pyjamas. Worst yet, he has to say he picked it himself, since he can't directly blame Steph.
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darkjimxn · 11 days
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Fool's Gold || Part I
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Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.
Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader
Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au
Word Count: 10k
Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. violence, blood, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses
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“I heard that she’s a complete airhead.”
Jungkook’s expensive shoes smacked against the pristine white and gold marble floors as he continued to walk through the lavish hallway, hands disappearing behind his pockets while his steps were slow and confident. Most would think he was choosing to ignore the comment, but his closest friend knew better than to rush a man as calculating as Jungkook. 
Instead, Taehyung strolled alongside him, taking in the glittering chandeliers looming over their heads and the intricate designs carved into the white walls that were much too traditional for his taste. Jungkook and Taehyung were nowhere near out of place in the sea of extravagance with their custom suits and shiny black dress shoes. Taehyung, the more simple of the two, had his brown hair parted and pushed back to reveal a blemish free forehead while his grey and black suit complimented the grey specks in his brown irises. 
On the other hand, Jungkook’s black on black outfit adorned two expensive cufflinks and a gold brooch attached to his lapel. Taehyung’s gaze dropped to his black hair, which he noticed had grown in the past month. 
When Taehyung realised that Jungkook wasn’t going to speak, he decided to fill the silence. 
“Like apparently she’s huge on wearing pink and frilly stuff -which I guess is just a girl thing- but still, this is a mafia not a tea party.”
He paused, waiting for his comrade to offer his thoughts, but was met with silence once again. 
“I’ve also heard she’s dumber than a pile of rocks. Barely passed high school and then dropped out of university not even a month in. Her major wasn’t even that hard. Commerce, was it?”
Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed as Jungkook continued to lengthen the silence. 
“And as you already must know, she was also married about a year ago but then was widowed after her husband was killed by a rival gang on the same day. Even though their marriage didn’t even last a full 24 hours, she had been so traumatised by the whole thing that apparently she didn’t even speak for an entire month after the ordeal. Can you imagine how much of a princess she must be for a simple death to shake her that much? She must be a real- come on man, how long are you going to make me go on?”
Jungkook turned his head to offer him a sly grin, “I was wondering when you would reach your limit.”
Taehyung gave him a halfhearted punch to the arm, “you’re such a jerk. Answer my question man. I’m dying to know what she’s actually like.”
He followed Jungkook as he turned into another hallway, curious as to what he thought of her, but his answer had him staring at Jungkook incredulously. 
“I don’t know.”
Taehyung faltered in his step, gaping at the back of the man who continued through the hallway nonchalantly. When the weight of his answer finally processed completely in Taehyung’s mind, he ran forward so that he could walk alongside his friend once again. 
“I think you misunderstood my question,” Taehyung tried again slowly, “I want to know about Lee Y/N, you know, your soon to be wife? The one you’re about to marry right now?”
“What is there to know?” Jungkook commented, mind occupied with a topic of much more importance, “a marriage with her will allow for the unification of two powerful mafia families and will also allow for an heir to be born. Is that not the whole point of marriages for individuals like us?”
“Well yeah, but there’s no harm in getting to know her at least a little bit. Did you even hear about the ‘dumb as rocks’ part when I was rambling?”
“That will only make her easier to control,” he deadpanned.
“Fine, whatever. Is she at least pretty?”
Taehyung’s eyes widened even more when Jungkook didn’t respond, “please tell me you’ve met her at least once. Oh my god, have you even looked at a picture of her?” 
Jungkook's silence was all Taehyung needed to know that the answer was, in fact, no,” I knew I shouldn’t have gone out of the country! My parents kept telling me everything would be fine and they’d take care of the whole thing but you haven’t even met her once? I should’ve made my return flight earlier, then I could’ve-”
Taehyung’s voice faltered as he noticed Jungkook’s distant expression, causing his brows to furrow. He wasn’t listening to a word he was saying, which wasn’t something entirely out of the ordinary, but it usually wasn’t this bad. He sighed as he shifted his gaze to the expensive hall before him. 
“Is this about the Parks?” He asked, noticing his friend’s focus return.
“It’s the Parks and the Mins,” Jungkook admitted, “ever since their alliance, they’ve been getting bold. They made a move on our West docks last week and would have been successful in seizing them if it weren’t for the blackmail I managed to procure at the last minute. But that won’t hold them off for long.”
Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, “you’ve always enjoyed a challenge. Why’s this bothering you so much?”
Jungkook turned into another hallway to finally come face to face with a large pair of grandiose double doors that towered over them. The two men came to a stop, aware that their conversation was now on a timer. 
“I just… have an uneasy feeling,” he said, unable to reveal anymore to Taehyung. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his best friend what he had really witnessed when he visited the docks yesterday.
Taehyung, clueless to Jungkook’s inner turmoil, slapped him on the back, lightening the mood with a grin, “come on man, this is your wedding. You’ll figure everything out later, for now just relax. You deserve it.”
Before he could protest, Taehyung shoved the double doors open to reveal an enormous and crowded wedding hall. The white and gold marble floor stretched across the entire room, while multiple diamonds came together to form a giant chandelier that hung over the hundreds of tables that had been decorated with shiny silverware and pristine white roses. The people were just as decorated as the furniture, with their elegant gowns and glamorous jewellery. 
At the sound of the doors opening, the once chattering crowd silenced, opting to sneak glances at Jungkook and his friend instead. Hushed whispers echoed around the hall as Jungkook straightened his back and held his head high before making his way to the centre of the room. Behind him, Taehyung took his place, his outgoing and extroverted personality tucked away to look just as regal and intimidating as the groom. The crowd began gathering on either side of the aisle, clearly excited for the bride who had been scheduled to appear any second now. 
Most men’s hearts would be racing during a time like this, Jungkook thought distantly, eyes focused on the aisle as well. Marriage to others was supposed to symbolise unwavering love and devotion. But not for him. For him marriage was simply a contract, a means to an end that he hoped would lessen the burden of a number of challenges. In a world like this, there was no such thing as love. 
Only power. 
The sound of the double doors opening pulled him from his thoughts, with two professionally dressed workers fixing them on either side so that they remained open this time. Jungkook watched a pair of women in what seemed like light pink bridesmaid dresses trail behind two girls who couldn’t have been more than five throwing white and light pink flower petals in the air. Behind the entourage was a figure drenched in white. 
You walked slowly into the room, your glimmering white dress trailing behind you as a thick white veil draped over your face and the front of your dress. Jungkook could only make out your hands clutching a small bouquet of white roses while your arm looped around your father’s, who was slowly guiding you down the aisle. Despite the aid, he couldn’t help but notice an uneasiness to your steps and a slight shake in your hands. 
The crowd’s gaze stayed fixed on your figure, drinking in the Jeon Jungkook’s soon to be wife. There were some gasps of astonishment at the beauty of your dress and figure, while there were some gasps of jealousy towards the woman who was taking Jungkook off the market. You didn’t seem to pay them any attention as your head stayed fixed in front of you, focusing on not falling as you continued through the aisle. 
To Jungkook, it felt like years had passed before you finally reached the small steps leading to the stage he was standing on, your bridesmaids taking their places on the opposite side of where Taehyung was standing. Your father unlooped his arm from yours and stepped back to sit on one of the seats that had been reserved for him, leaving you to hesitantly step onto the stage yourself. Your heel wobbled as you brought your foot forward and Jungkook knew exactly what would happen before it did. 
He watched your heel slip sideways, causing you to careen to your right under the heaviness of your dress. But before you could crash into the large pots of white roses, Jungkook shot forward so that his hand could grab your waist, hoisting you up to prevent you from falling. The crowd swooned at the gesture, murmuring about its romantic nature, though all Jungkook could wonder was how you’ve been surviving in a mafia family for so long. Taehyung had only said you were dumb, not a complete klutz too. 
He could feel the warmth of your delicate hand on his shoulder as he guided you up the steps, only letting go of you once the two of you were facing the patiently waiting priest. Once he had motioned for everyone to sit, he began his sermon in an obnoxiously boring voice. Jungkook had no particular interest in paying attention to a speech he had listened to multiple times growing up. Instead, he took the chance to survey you briefly. With your veil still hiding your face, he could only take in your perfect figure and pristine skin. 
Eventually, the priest asked you to remove your veil, to which you complied slowly. Taehyung came forward, offering to take the bouquet in your hands while your bridesmaids helped you hesitantly lift the soft white cloth over your head. 
A wave of hushed whispers spread throughout the crowd at the sight of your face, one that caught Jungkook off guard. Your eyes had been lined with a light liner, while your lips and cheeks had been made to look dainty. Your hair fell from the top of your head to your shoulders, styled in a way that framed your features and neck. Jungkook noticed a small silver necklace in the shape of a heart resting against your exposed collarbone. 
Your makeup made you look so innocent and… young. Jungkook almost wanted to pull Taehyung’s parents aside and confirm that you really were twenty three and not some nineteen year old. It was a bit of a turn off, he realised, slightly bothered by the fact. As a twenty six year old, he obviously wasn’t into teenagers, so he didn’t know what having a wife that looked like one was going to do for him. 
Then again, he wasn’t marrying you for some kind of gratification. He was marrying you because he needed to form a strong alliance between your father’s gang and his so that he could be, or at the very least appear, stronger than the Mins and Parks. You were nothing more than a path to more power and, aside from upholding his responsibilities as a husband, he would treat you as such.
As the priest continued to drone on, Jungkook continued to analyse your form. He watched your eyes stay focused on the priest before they strayed, hesitantly landing on Jungkook for a split second. When you noticed his gaze already on you, a small squeak sounded from your lips before you quickly shifted your focus forward. With the bouquet of flowers now hanging from Taehyung’s hand, your own fingers were clasped awkwardly in front of you. 
You were apparently everything Taehyung had painted you as earlier, Jungkook thought. Your makeup and mannerisms had an air of exaggerated innocence, while your body language was shy and sheepish. He had no problem imagining you as a weak girl that was so traumatised by the death of your first husband that you couldn’t utter a single word the following month. 
The priest turned to the seated crowd, beckoning anyone that had an issue with the marriage to step forward and speak their mind. Just as Jungkook expected, no one dared make a stand, preferring to cherish the connection between their head and neck instead. Following the silence, you and Jungkook were made to stand facing each other.
Your gaze was fixed on his collar, seemingly too shy to meet Jungkook’s eyes. It only confirmed his suspicions regarding your confidence, or lack thereof. 
Yet, despite your evidently timid nature and lack of intelligence, Jungkook couldn’t help but experience an uncanny feeling lingering at the back of his mind. Perhaps it was his untrusting nature, or maybe he had just been forced to over analyse you during the long and boring sermon. But he could have sworn that there was something about you. Just… something about the way you had trouble meeting his gaze yet seemed to have no problem in scanning Taehyung up and down. For a fraction of a moment, the look in your eyes was almost calculated, as if you had been assessing him. But just as fast as Jungkook thought he saw it, the look disappeared, replaced by a timid and shy gaze once again. It left him questioning whether he had even seen it in the first place, or whether he was letting paranoia see things that weren’t there. 
Finally, the priest turned to the two of you and made you both say your vows outloud. They were the standard vows, Jungkook and you putting no effort in creating a confession that you both knew was ingenuine. Instead, the two of you repeated after him, answering “I do” when the time was right. Jungkook was glad that, despite your seemingly ditzy nature, you hadn’t requested any giant romantic gestures. According to your father, you had even had no problem with Jungkook requesting that there be no kiss at the altar. It made his life a lot easier and truthfully made this entire situation a lot less awkward.
To Jungkook’s relief, the priest finally addressed the crowd once more, ending the sermon on a final note filled with hope and prosperity. He spoke about how the marriage would strengthen the two mafias, mitigating worries relating to attacks from enemies that may wish to harm them. Jungkook had already expected this part of the speech, as he had been the one to tell the priest to say those exact words. 
At the end of the sermon, Jungkook and you were made to walk down the aisle back to where he knew his expensive car was waiting. He turned to you, looping his arm around yours so that you wouldn’t fall again, and guided you down the steps slowly. He noticed that your every step was still wobbly and he could feel your hand shaking as you placed it on his bicep to steady yourself further. But this time, with the veil now draped behind you, he could see the distress in your face as well. Your eyes were wide as you took in the crowd surrounding you, looking as naive as Taehyung had made you out to be. 
Jungkook tried to remind himself of Taehyung’s words. About how you had barely been able to pass high school and then completely dropped out of university a month in. About how your style consisted of pink and frilly clothes that didn’t have much place in the mafia. About how, at this moment, you seemed almost scared of the crowd and attention. 
A girl like that was shy and naive and ditzy. Aside from being slightly irritating, that meant you couldn’t be much of a threat to him or anyone else. If anything your incompetence would be a threat to your own self. Jungkook had nothing to worry about when it came to you. 
So he tried not to be unsettled. 
He tried not to be unsettled by the fact that, despite your apparently innocent and weak nature, your fingers were gripping into his bicep so hard he would no doubt wake up with a bruise tomorrow morning. 
He tried not to be unsettled by the way your shy gaze, which stayed fixed on the floor, would sometimes stray upwards to almost study the crowd around you before quickly darting back to the ground. 
He tried not to be unsettled when you looked up at him to give him a bashful smile, one that the logical part of him agreed looked sweet and innocent enough.
Yet, why did another part of him wonder whether there had been something else lurking behind those seemingly innocent eyes?
-
-
-
The only thing that Jungkook had learned about you from the car ride was that your voice was as light and soft as your appearance. 
The ride in his black car decorated with gleaming small white roses and ribbons had been mostly silent, the two of you making no effort to start a conversation. Jungkook had never been one for small talk, more than content to let Taehyung talk for hours instead. The reason for your lack of conversation, though, was unknown to him. 
It was only when he was speeding through the highway that you had spoken to request that he slow down a bit. Your voice had been soft and timid, as if you were scared that Jungkook would lash out at you for the simple request. Or maybe that was just the way you spoke. Considering your personality, Jungkook wouldn’t find that too hard to believe.
Now the two of you walked through the entrance of his home, your eyes taking in the grandeur of it all. Despite its vastness, Jungkook felt that this was where he felt the most comfortable: between the white and fawn walls, the elaborately designed bannisters, and the creme marble floors. His home had remained the only constant in his life and, because of that, he cherished it immensely. 
There were only a few people that Jungkook had allowed inside, all of whom were people that he trusted with his life. This was the first time, he realised, that someone outside of those few was stepping foot onto the marble floor and laying their eyes on the spiralling staircase. It was an odd feeling, allowing you to enter into what he felt was the only place that truly allowed his mind and body to relax. 
He observed your reaction curiously, taking in your wide eyes. They bounced from one thing to the next, each structure seeming to fascinate you more and more. He still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were assessing the space, but the logical part of him kept trying to reassure himself that you couldn’t possibly be considered any kind of threat. 
The sound of the door opening behind him pulled him from his thoughts. He turned around to find Taehyung walking through the doorway, a particular look on his face. Jungkook recognised it right away, causing him to turn to you for a moment while calling over one of the maids. 
“Get her to the bedroom,” Jungkook commanded the maid as Taehyung stepped beside him, “and help her take off her makeup and dress into something comfortable.”
The maid nodded before she began to guide you up the flight of stairs, pointing out a few directions here and there to get you comfortable with the new environment. Jungkook watched you look back at him and Taehyung for a split second, an unreadable look in your eyes, before you faced forward once again and allowed yourself to be dragged away wordlessly. 
Once you had disappeared up the stairs, Jungkook turned to Taehyung with a raised eyebrow.
“Well?” He prodded. 
Taehyung glanced at the top of the stairs to make sure you really were gone, “I should be asking you that. What do you think of her?”
Jungkook mulled over his question for a moment, “she seems to be everything you said she is. Although, are you sure-”
“She is one hundred percent twenty three years old. I triple checked that one,” Taehyung said immediately, hands up in a gesture of surrender. 
Jungkook let his hands nestle into his pockets, wondering if he should bring up his other concerns as well. Uptil now, you haven’t actually done or said anything worth garnering suspicion. Jungkook just seemed to be picking up on small things here and there, but he wasn’t sure if those things were just him being paranoid or genuinely things that he should be cautious over. This whole marriage thing was proving to be a lot more confusing than he had initially thought. 
“What is it?” Taehyung asked, noticing his friend’s silence. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, but, after earning a questioning look from Taehyung, he relented slightly. 
“How well of a background check did your parents do on her?” Jungkook asked cautiously. He didn’t want Taehyung to know too much of how he was feeling at the moment, in case this was just his mind being overactive, but something in Taehyung’s expression seemed to indicate that he knew a lot more than what Jungkook was letting on. 
“They did a very thorough one, of course,” Taehyung said, eyeing Jungkook knowingly, “you know my parents. If there’s one thing that they’re the best at, it’s uncovering people’s secrets.”
Then he added with a smile, “couldn’t get away with much while growing up because of it.”
Jungkook let his gaze wander around the room, “I just…”
“You’re just suspicious of her,” Taehyung finished, causing Jungkook to look his way, “of course you’re suspicious Jungkook, you’re letting a girl that you’ve never even met before into your house for the first time. It’s a natural reaction, especially considering how untrusting we’ve been conditioned to be since we were young.”
Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the back reassuringly, “I was the exact same way when I married Chaewon. Hell, in our first year of being married I even accused her of being a traitor when she was planning a surprise party for my birthday. When she finally told me… man, it took me a whole year to make it up to her. On another note, from a married man to a newly married man, don’t accuse your wife of anything unless you’re a hundred and ten percent sure of it. Otherwise you’ll never hear the end of it.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, causing Taehyung to laugh.
“Besides, have you seen Y/N? She’s so shy and naive, her own reflection in the mirror must frighten her. I doubt you have anything to worry about, especially after my parents’ background check. Just enjoy yourself, man, it’s your wedding night,” Taehyung said with a knowing smirk. 
Obviously ignoring the suggestive comment, Jungkook nodded, finding logic in Taehyung’s other words. Jungkook had never been married, all of this was new to him. But if Taehyung, who had been married for almost a decade, said feelings like this were normal, then maybe he really was just being overly paranoid about the situation. You’d had a thorough background check done, which revealed nothing, and your personality was quite clear to Jungkook after he’d observed you at the wedding. 
It was time Jungkook started trying to enjoy this marriage as much as he could. He was going to be stuck with you indefinitely, and constantly being suspicious of you was only going to wear him out, especially since you now had access to the only place he allowed himself to be free of the constantly vigilant and calculating mind that came with being the leader of the Jeons. 
Jungkook turned to Taehyung, about to thank him for the insight, but the sound of the door opening once again caused the two to shift their gaze to behind them. The sight of the man walking through the doorway immediately had Jungkook wrinkling his nose in distaste while Taehyung’s expression had become a distant neutral. The man didn’t seem to mind the reactions if he noticed them, casually strolling deeper into the house until he was standing before the two. 
“Jungkook, Taehyung,” Daehyun nodded, the respectful gesture somehow seeming more disrespectful if anything. He had clearly just come back from the wedding, still wearing his black suit and light brown hair styled back, “you just got married, yet I see only Taehyung and no bride. Shall I assume the two of you are running away together?”
The tasteless joke was followed by a deep laugh, one that belonged to neither Jungkook nor Taehyung. Instead they just stared at him with an unamused scowl.
“Relax, it’s only a joke,” he shook his head, gaze wandering the place casually, “I doubt your wife and kid would like the thought of that anyway.”
Taehyung’s jaw ticked at Daehyun’s words. Even if he hadn’t directly threatened or disrespected them in any way, just the mention of his family from his mouth was enough for Taehyung’s gaze to turn icy.
“Careful Daehyun, you’re standing before two mafia leaders,” Taehyung said, voice low and intimidating, “I would be less casual in our presence if I were you.”
To Taehyung and Jungkook’s dismay, Daehyun simply chuckled, “ah yes, but Jungkook and I are cousins. He’ll cut me some slack, won’t he?”
Jungkook didn’t answer, even after Daehyun gave his arm a lighthearted punch. Daehyun was the cousin that Jungkook could never be rid of, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was slimy and tactless and everything Jungkook hated rolled into one unbearable being. Having to give him access to his home, his only place of peace, had been one of the hardest things to do. But at the time, Jungkook had had to make sacrifices and this had been one of them. 
Daehyun, undeterred by his cousin’s lack of response, leaned his arm on Jungkook’s shoulder casually, “congratulations by the way. When I saw your wife’s face- god did she look young! You’re so lucky man, I hope my future wife turns out like that.”
Jungkook grimaced as he suddenly felt the desire to wipe off any remnants of Daehyun’s touch from his suit. Daehyun had attended the same university as Taehyung and Jungkook, yet he had evidently obtained none of the class that they had. Everyday he wondered how the two of them could possibly be related. For the sake of Jungkook’s mental wellbeing, sometimes he liked to imagine Daehyun had actually been adopted and his parents had simply decided not to share that piece of information. 
“I should get going,” Jungkook said stiffly, brushing his cousin’s arm off his shoulder. He fixed his suit as Daehyung smirked at him, likely thinking of Jungkook’s comment as more suggestive than he had actually meant. 
Jungkook faced Taehyung to give him a curt nod before he turned and began walking up the stairs, not bothering to use the fawn iron bannisters on either side of him. He could hear Taehyung taking his leave through the front door, dragging a complaining Daehyun behind him to Jungkook’s satisfaction. The sound of the front door shutting had never sounded so delightful. 
A silence ensued as Jungkook walked through the hallway upstairs, continuing until he paused in front of his bedroom’s door. He couldn’t hear any noises coming from inside the room, so, with a light knock against the white and fawn wood, his hand wrapped around the handle to turn it and finally push the door open. 
The windows displayed an almost set sun, coating the atmosphere in a blanket of dimness. Everything about his bedroom had been changed. His once dark brown and white bed had been switched out for a cream and fawn coloured one, with a bouquet of vibrant red roses sitting atop the fancy and plush duvet, while his black leather couches had been replaced by light cloth ones. The ceiling and walls had been painted white, complimenting the new white and fawn patterned marble floor. His old dresser had also disappeared, a cream coloured dresser twice its size sitting in its place instead. 
Aside from the drastic changes that had been made to his bedroom, no doubt to signify the change that came with marriage, the first thing Jungkook noticed was the maid who was drawing the curtains closed. The room would have fallen into complete darkness if it weren’t for the lamps sitting atop the bedside tables which were emanating a warm light around the space. 
The second thing he noticed was you, who was sitting timidly on the edge of the bed and facing him. Your fingers were playing awkwardly in front of you while your gaze had been fixed on the floor, but at the sound of the door opening, your head raised to look at Jungkook. The sight of your face once again caught him off guard, the lack of makeup revealing a different side of you. 
You no longer looked young. Without the innocent look that had been created with the blushes and the eyeliners and the lip glosses, Jungkook could see the mature shape of your eyes and the defined look of your features. You looked your age now, a lot more maturity prominent in your appearance. 
You were pretty. Jungkook could admit that much now that you didn’t resemble a teenager. He wondered why you had done your makeup like that in the first place. He’d been to many weddings before and none of the brides had been made to look so young. Then again, Taehyung had already told him that, on top of looking innocent and naive, you seemed to dress the part as well. 
“Is something wrong?” Your soft voice asked, eyes blinking innocently up at him. 
Jungkook shook his head, motioning for the maid to leave the room. She gave you both a low bow before scurrying out the doorway, making sure to close the door behind her. 
“No,” he finally answered. For the first time in a long time he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He wasn’t sure if you were expecting anything to happen tonight, or if you even wanted anything to happen for now. 
His gaze lowered as he mulled over his next actions. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a light pink, mesh lace nightgown that came all the way down to your knees with a silk bow stitched into the centre of your chest, as if your clothes were meant to compensate for the lack of makeup dolling up your features. He almost wanted to raise an eyebrow at you, but you seemed much too fragile to be ridiculed. 
Alternatively, he decided to take an experimental step in your direction, surveying your reaction closely. He watched your fingers close tighter around the duvet on which you sat, your gaze hesitantly darting everywhere but him. That was answer enough for him to know how far you were ready to take it tonight. So instead, he passed the bed, opting instead to drop onto the couch on the far end of the room. While he was facing you, you had to turn your head to keep him in your sights. 
“What would you like to do now?” He asked you, resting an arm over the back of the couch while he crossed an ankle over his knee. 
Your gaze dropped to your lap, watching your fingers fidget against each other nervously. It was almost as if having to answer a question like that had you stressed, which again made Jungkook wonder how you had survived growing up in a mafia family. How could you have been this weak?
“I-I don’t know,” you squeaked, not able to meet his gaze. 
Jungkook sighed, turning his head to the side to survey the room. Technically, the two of you could just call it a night and go to sleep. You were clearly too shy to even speak a word to him, and Jungkook had never been one to beg others for things. Only time would tell how well the two of you would get to know each other. 
But then Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the coffee table in front of him, noticing some sort of gift basket placed in its centre. It was obviously a wedding gift, filled with chocolates, scented candles, roses… and some wine and champagne. Jungkook has always been more of a whiskey guy, but right now he’d take just about anything. 
“Why don’t we have a drink?” He suggested, uncrossing his leg so that he could lean forward and grab the top of the expensive-looking bottle of red wine. He prayed you weren’t one of those people that didn’t drink, your innocent personality couldn’t possibly extend all the way to drinking as well. 
You paused for a moment, taking in the bottle in Jungkook’s hand, before slowly nodding your head, to Jungkook’s relief. 
He beckoned you over with his free hand, “come here.”
You hesitated before slowly pushing yourself off the bed and took small steps towards him. Jungkook waited patiently until you were standing right in front of the couch, hands clasped shyly in front of you while your gaze stayed glued to the floor. He held up the bottle of wine and champagne in front of you, hoping you weren’t so dumb that you wouldn’t understand the question in his actions. Thankfully you studied the two bottles before a shaky hand raised and tapped against the bottle of champagne. 
He pushed the bottle in your direction, forcing you to take it in your own hands, before standing up from the couch. The unexpected action seemed to scare you, causing you to immediately take a timid step backwards while you hugged the bottle to your chest. Jungkook had to suppress a tired, and maybe even slightly annoyed sigh, as he manoeuvred past you. He was trying to be patient, but this was becoming ridiculous. 
“You get that open while I wash up,” he said to you, pointing at the bottle still pressed to your chest, “okay?”
You nodded slowly, allowing him to turn away from you and walk into the joint bathroom. Once the door was closed behind him he let out the sigh he had suppressed earlier. You really were… something. He couldn’t believe he had been suspicious of you earlier when you could barely even function properly, much less be any sort of threat. It was irritating, Jungkook felt, to have someone so incompetent for a wife. He wondered if he would have to break you out of that shell. You were the wife of a mafia leader now after all, you had to keep up at least some air of confidence in the presence of others so that you didn’t make him look weak. 
Jungkook walked over to the sink and turned it on, splashing some cold water on his face before he began brushing his teeth. You were far from his ideal type, and he doubted this marriage would ever stem into whatever Taehyung and Chaewon had going on. Hell, he was wondering how the two of you could ever even produce an heir. You’d probably spontaneously combust if he even tried to touch you. And besides, he didn’t really want to touch you if he was being honest. You reminded him too much of a weak and helpless child, which was obviously a huge turn off. He may have been a mafia leader, but he wasn’t a complete monster. 
Jungkook placed his toothbrush into the holder after spitting into the sink, drying himself off with one of the towels hanging near him. He was about to start changing into more comfortable clothes, only getting as far as unbuttoning the first few buttons of his black collar shirt, before a crashing sound rang from the bedroom. In less than a second he had pushed out of the bathroom, immediately scanning the bedroom before him as his hand automatically sought out the gun at his side. 
It took him a moment to realise the lack of intruders in the room, and then another to take in your completely unharmed form. You were standing with your hands covering your mouth, looking down at the ground. Jungkook followed your gaze to find the champagne bottle rolling along the marble floor, still entirely intact. You had clearly dropped the thing accidentally, causing Jungkook to place his gun back in his waistband.
“I’m s-so sorry,” you squeaked, bending down quickly to pick up the bottle. Suppressing a huff, Jungkook walked over to you to take it from your hands. 
“Here, let me do it,” he said, taking two of the crystal champagne flutes from the gift basket and placing them on the glass coffee table as he sat himself down on the couch, distantly annoyed at the fact that you couldn’t even pour a glass of champagne by yourself. Was this seriously what he was going to have to deal with from now on?
He tipped the bottle, filling both glasses to the brim with the bubbling liquid as you hesitantly sat yourself down on the couch to his left. His gaze fell on you as he was about to offer you one of the flutes, but paused when he noticed the look on your face. For the first time since he met you, you looked almost… excited. Usually your eyes would be downturned and focused on the floor, but this time they were fixed on the crystal glasses before you as if you were eager to taste the expensive liquid. Jungkook made a note of it, tucking it into the back of his mind for later. 
“Take one,” he said as he motioned towards one of the glasses, but to his surprise you hesitantly shook your head. Your expression had turned timid once again, any hint of excitement from earlier entirely gone. He narrowed his eyes at you as he wondered if he had just imagined it. It had barely been there anyway. 
“I don’t drink,” you said in your signature soft tone, not able to meet his gaze. Of course you don’t, Jungkook thought irritatedly, god forbid the princess touch a glass of champagne. He knew the thought was immature, but there was no way he was the most immature person in the room at the moment. 
He pushed himself off the couch, very much aware that his patience was starting to wear thin, “well then I guess we should call it a night.”
But before he could step towards the bed, your hand shot out, clutching the edge of his sleeve with your fingers. He immediately looked down at your still seated form, a question in his eyes. You had to look away for a moment, seemingly collecting your nerves, before you met his gaze once again. 
“Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean you can’t,” you said, “I don’t want you not to enjoy yourself because of me. Please stay.”
Jungkook noticed the evident guilt in your eyes as your fingers continued to stay enclosed around the edge of his sleeve. When he didn’t move, you hesitantly leaned forward to gently pick up one of the glasses and then slowly presented it to him. His gaze shifted to the glass in your hand, pausing for only a moment, before he took it from you. He let himself sink back onto the couch as he studied you. 
You continued to sit in your spot on the sofa, posture still timid. Your gaze bounced from one part of the floor to the next, while your expression remained shy. But there was something else lurking behind the expression. If Jungkook focused well enough, he could have sworn the edges of your lips were turned slightly upwards. It was so faint that it might have not even been there, but the more he focused, the more prominent it became to him. 
A naive part of him might have thought it was from being successful in getting him to stay and have the drink, but the more logical part of him had already latched onto an idea, one that refused to be swept to the side any longer. 
His gaze lowered to your collarbone, a glint from the heart-shaped necklace resting over your soft skin catching his attention. Unlike earlier, he noticed that the metal heart was actually a locket, and that its two sides were slightly open. It couldn’t have been ajar by more than a millimetre, but Jungkook still noted it down in his mind.
His gaze then ascended to your face, still a perfect picture of innocence. Your eyes were widened to resemble a curious doe, while your lips were pulled into a timid line. The hands resting in your lap fumbled with each other shyly, really completing the look. 
Finally, his gaze dropped to the drink in his hand. He brought it closer to his face, as if he were about to take a sip, before eyeing the expensive liquid. His gaze fixed on the miniscule bubbles that continued travelled from the bottom of the flute to its surface, causing it to sizzle.
Jungkook slowly leaned forward, keeping his eye on his drink as he brought it away from his lips and instead calmly set it down on the coffee table before him. He then easily pushed himself off of the couch, which caused your brows to jump. There was an apparent question in your expression, one you decided to voice out loud. 
“Is something wrong with the drink?” You asked, voice still soft as your doe eyes looked up at him through your lashes. 
Ignoring the question, Jungkook placed a hand on the edge of the coffee table and slowly pushed it forward so that it was farther away from your seated form. The action caused you to blink. 
“Is everything okay?” You tried again slowly.
But Jungkook then faced you, assessing you for a moment, before he took a few steps in your direction. You had to crane your neck upwards to continue meeting his gaze, his tall form towering over your seated one. This time your brows pulled together, eyes still doe-like, as you continued to question his actions. 
“Jungko-”
Jungkook didn’t let you finish. The second you opened your mouth his large hand suddenly shot out and grabbed your neck, slamming your head into the seat of the couch. You squeaked at the sudden violence, immediately clawing at the fingers now enclosed around your throat. But your efforts were nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s iron hold. 
“J-Jungkook, you’re h-hurting me!” You let out a choked cry, continuing to put up a weak fight against Jungkook. Tears had already started to coat your eyes and run down your cheeks, but Jungkook ignored them completely. He watched you struggle, fascinated by the way you thrashed around like an animal yet every jab at him was weak and ineffective. There was no sign of the strength he had noticed when you had grabbed onto his bicep earlier, so hard that he was sure it would leave a bruise. It was enough to make him grin.
Jungkook lowered his face so that his lips neared your ear, his body still hovering over your smaller form. 
“If you wanted to kill me princess, you’ll have to do a better job than that,” he said, voice low. Your eyes widened even further as you continued to struggle against him, making pitiful noises that didn’t move him in the slightest. 
“K-Kill?! What are y-you talking about?!” You continued to choke out as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hands had moved to his chest, desperately trying to push him away, yet failing miserably in the process. Jungkook tilted his head at your weak plea, eager to hear what other ways you’d beg him to let you go.
 “P-please-” You began, but then cut yourself off abruptly when your tear-filled gaze met his. You must have seen something in his eyes, because he felt your body slacken, no longer desperate to fight him despite his hold on your neck cutting off your lung’s supply of air. 
Instead you studied him, really studied him. He could see the same calculated look you had used on Taehyung earlier during the wedding. It was as if you were assessing Jungkook, picking out his strengths and weaknesses to figure out how you could use them to your advantage. He watched you weigh options in your head patiently before you finally tilted your head to the side calmly and shot him a look. In response, Jungkook decided to loosen his grip on your throat. He watched you catch your breath for a moment before you spoke. 
“Well, you’re already smarter than the first one,” you commented, but your voice was entirely different. It was no longer soft and timid, rather it was a lot more deep and confident. He watched your expression change in the same manner. Your once wide and innocent looking eyes narrowed into a more matured look, while your lips straightened into more of a dangerously amused grin than a naive pout. 
Then he processed your words. The ‘first one’ had to be your first husband, who Taehyung had explained had been killed on his wedding day. Taehyung had mentioned that a rival gang had been the one to murder him, but the actual one responsible for his death was clear to Jungkook now. 
“Do you make it a hobby to poison your husbands’ drinks on their wedding nights?” He asked, hand still wrapped around your throat. He had situated himself between your legs, his own leg pushing one of yours against the back of the couch while his free hand pushed the other down against the seat of the couch. The position ensured you wouldn’t be able to kick him, while his body hovering over your own seemed to take care of the rest of you. You were smart enough not to try anything anyway, knowing Jungkook’s strength was incomparable to yours.
You shrugged, panting at the limited oxygen entering your lungs, “golf just wasn’t cutting it for me anymore.”
“Golf? How can a weak and helpless girl like you play such a sport?” Jungkook couldn’t help but quip, bordering on mocking you. It only made you grin, clearly no hint of offence in your expression. 
He studied your nonchalant demeanour curiously. You had tried to kill him, and he should send your head back to your father’s doorstep for it. And yet, you couldn’t have looked any less composed with his hand around your neck. Either you were a complete idiot, which seemed much less likely now that he was starting to see your real character, or you believed you had the upper hand in this situation. 
“You’re quite calm for someone I should have killed,” he noted, meaning for it to be a threat. But once again you didn’t seem deterred. In fact, the comment seemed to amuse you even more. 
“Just because you should have me killed doesn’t mean you’ll actually have me killed.”
Jungkook’s brow raised, finding an opportunity to prod you further, “and why won’t I have you killed? Your father sent you here to kill me under the pretence of an alliance. I should start a war for this.”
You nodded, “but you see, my father did send me here to form an alliance. The whole killing you idea was all mine.”
Jungkook scoffed at the lame attempt at a lie, “you expect me to believe that?”
But you scoffed as well, meeting his gaze just as vehemently. It was an odd sight considering you had spent the entire day trying to make yourself small and avoiding his gaze. Yet here you were now, eyes ablaze like a thrashing fire. Not a spontaneously violent fire either, no Jungkook could very easily handle that. You were more like an electrical fire. It was becoming increasingly apparent that he had to be cautious around you, and that trusting any word that came out of your mouth was dangerous. 
“Prove it then,” he challenged, tightening his hold on your neck for a moment to remind you of your vulnerability. 
“I don’t need to prove anything,” you said, a hand coming up to wrap around his wrist, “just go ahead and mention to my father that I’m not a complete airhead that’s afraid of her own shadow. He’ll laugh in your face and call you a moron.”
The revelation that your father was just as clueless about your true self as everyone else only confirmed his initial thoughts. It also proved he couldn’t have trusted you to carry out an assassination attempt, meaning your father really did genuinely want an alliance with the Jeons. That was perfect, because Jungkook had certain plans that relied on this partnership. It was a relief that they hadn’t gone to waste.
“If it wasn’t your father’s idea, then why did you poison my drink?” He asked with a raised brow. 
Silence filled the room following his question, one that allowed you both to hear the sounds of the wall clock. He got the feeling that you were contemplating something once again, planning out your next move.
Then you squirmed underneath him, seemingly getting comfortable, but Jungkook knew better than to believe whatever you appeared as. The second your hand went for the gun wedged in his waistband, he grabbed your wrist, pining it against the couch, while the hand that had been around your throat pulled out the matte black weapon. He slowly brought it to your temple with an amused grin.
“If you wanted it so badly, you could have just asked,” he taunted, bringing the gun down so that its barrel lifted your chin, “now, I asked a question princess.”
You huffed, your amusement finally falling to give him a half-hearted glare.
“I want a divorce.”
Jungkook couldn’t help the laugh that sounded from his lips at your straightforwardness. You just tried to kill him, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you weren’t a fan of this marriage and wanted out of it. 
It was an arranged marriage after all, and even though all arranged marriages didn’t equal a forced marriage, technically he couldn’t be certain that this marriage was of your own choice or not. For all he knew, you had some secret lover waiting for you back home, your marriage with Jungkook coming between the star crossed romance. The thought made his jaw tick. He was far from in love with you, but Jungkook tended to be territorial about what was his. And you were his wife at the moment. 
You, on the other hand, seemed surprised by his reaction, as if it was the last thing you expected him to do.
“I mean you obviously want one now too, right?” You asked with your brows furrowed.
Jungkook didn’t respond, and that only seemed to make you more agitated.
“I’m not the wife that you want. You clearly can’t stand me when I have my ditzy front pulled up and you can’t trust me when I don’t.”
Although the points that you were making were true, there was one important factor you were missing, and that was the alliance between the Jeons and the Lees. Jungkook needed this alliance to, at the very least make himself seem like, he was more powerful than the Parks and the Mins. And with their recent moves -with what he saw at the docks just last night- he needed this alliance now more than ever. So while he normally would have had you executed and then sent your head to your father’s doorstep for your little assassination attempt, this time he was going to have to sweep his pride to the side.
Jungkook placed his free hand next to your head as he pushed himself up, choosing instead to stay standing in front of the sofa. His intense gaze dropped to your still form while his gun hung from his fingers firmly. 
“No,” he finally said, causing your brows to jump. 
You quickly pushed yourself off the couch to stand just as he was, but Jungkook didn’t move. With the sofa right behind you, barring you from taking a few steps back, that left you and him standing dangerously close to each other. The bow from your nightgown pressed against his partly unbuttoned black collar shirt, while its edge grazed his dress pants. Jungkook could feel the heat of your breath raise goosebumps from his exposed collarbone. 
“Why not? I’m not the wife that you want.”
He smiled at the bite in your words, finding your frustration amusing, “you’ve got it all wrong. I simply wanted a wife to make the Lees allies, nothing more.”
Like a fire set alight, your eyes flashed in anger, “I won’t change. I’ll still be your idiot wife that will make you look weak.”
It was true that most wives of mafia leaders were strong and confident beings, symbols of their husbands’ power, and that having a wife like you may be a slightly risky choice. But Jungkook was sure his carefully established reputation could take the hit. Besides, although you might make him look weak, your marriage with him would make him far from actually weak. 
“You think divorcing you won’t make me look weak?” Jungkook decided to say, unsure of if he was saying it to play with you more or to make sure you don’t believe your threats are inconveniencing him, “you’ve fooled everyone with your ditzy facade. A divorce will make them think I wasn’t able to tame a naive girl. You think people will accept me as a leader then?”
You didn’t react to the point, giving him the feeling that you might have already known that might pose an issue for him. Perhaps you thought his reputation could take the hit? When Jungkook really thought about it, it probably could have. He’d worked hard to be both feared and respected for years, a divorce like this, while questionable in the eyes of the people under him, could have been pushed under the rug given time. But the alliance was too important to him. 
And that was something he needed to make sure you knew. 
“That means you will continue to be my wife,” he settled, lowering his gaze so that it met yours with unwavering finality, “so you’ll continue to act like it.”
Jungkook felt his voice naturally lower, a hint of a threat evident in his tone, “listen to me well, Y/N. I don’t care if you act like the dumbest woman on Earth or the most sultry. Regardless, what you will act like is my wife. When we’re outside of this bedroom, we will laugh together, we will hug each other, and we will do whatever other damn thing married couples do so that no one doubts this relationship.”
“And if I don’t?” You bit, the speed of your reply making his jaw tick. 
“If you don’t, you can stay locked in this bedroom until you learn how to behave. Understood?”
Your rage couldn’t have been more prominent, with a fierce glare burning right through him and a pair of fisted hands at your sides. Yet Jungkook ignored it all, instead meeting your gaze coolly as he waited for your confirmation. 
It took a long moment to come, so long that Jungkook thought it wasn’t going to come at all. But eventually he noticed you nod your head. It was barely a movement, your head tipping down slightly before resuming its earlier place, but it was enough for him despite your unwavering glare. 
He finally took a few steps back, thrusting the barrel of his gun once again into the waistband of his pants. Your angry form, on the other hand, didn’t move, opting instead to stand perfectly still despite your calves pressing into the sofa behind you. Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, brushing the strands that had fallen onto his forehead away from his face.
“Good, then we’re done here.”
He finally turned away from you, eyeing the door on his left intently. But before he could move towards it, your words made him pause.
“I just tried to kill you,” you commented before he turned to question its randomness. He found you sitting on the sofa once again, an eerily thoughtful look lurking behind your rage-filled eyes, “how will you know I won’t do it again?”
Jungkook tilted his head in response. 
“You can try all you want, princess,” he said, liking the feeling of that nickname on his tongue more and more. It was almost addicting, “but you won’t succeed.”
Then his lips curled into a sly smirk, “after all, what kind of husband would I be if I barred my wife from her hobbies?”
He was able to just barely catch the roll of your eyes before he turned and pushed through the door he had been eyeing earlier, his hands automatically locking it behind him as he casually surveyed his office. The room had been spared from the new gleaming white and fawn furniture which had taken over his bedroom. Instead, it was filled with familiar dark brown.
Refined dark oak wood shelves and cabinets lined the walls except for the wall behind his large desk, which was made up entirely of a bookshelf filled to the brim with various hardcovers. For the sake of matching with the rest of the house, the marble floor had been done a light fawn colour, while another wall was made up of bulletproof glass, its centre having the ability to slide open to reveal a decent sized balcony. 
Jungkook shrugged off his blazer as he made his way to his desk, laying the piece of cloth over the back of his black leather chair, before he opened the glass cabinet behind it. He didn’t need to think much as his fingers expertly curled around an expensive bottle of whiskey and a crystal glass. Before he knew it, he found himself standing outside on his balcony overlooking his estate, one hand holding the crystal glass filled halfway with light brown liquid while the other clutched the iron railing. 
His gaze bounced around his estate for a peaceful moment as he took a sip from his glass, taking in the expanse of the luscious green field bordering the neatly done driveway despite the darkness of the night. In its centre was an intricately designed white fountain spewing water in four different directions, but all of which emptied systematically into the white basin at its base. The estate itself stretched for metres, the gates enclosing the space barely visible from where he was standing. Jungkook’s thoughts bounced around his head just as quickly as his gaze. 
What a day it had been. At first, you’d been a complete idiot, one that had irritated him to no extent with your doe eyes and evident shyness. 
But then you had turned out to be an entirely different species, far from the innocent and ditzy girl he’d labelled you as. You were cunning and feisty and seemingly very much ready for a divorce. 
Jungkook felt the corners of his lips pull upwards into a grin as he took another sip of his whisky.
You were quite the enigma.
But he was going to enjoy the challenge.  
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A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!
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evansbby · 8 months
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𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sugar daddy!Ari Levinson x naive!reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sugar daddy Ari, age gap, smutt, daddy!kink, ab riding, dirty talk.
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your sugar daddy decides to dress you up in a costume of his choice for Halloween.
𝐀/𝐍: Random spontaneous Halloween "drabble" that is 3.8k words long lol. Inspired by the hottest daddy of them all, Ari Levinson, and his gorgeous abs. Hence the gif. Enjoy! And Happy Halloween, despite the fact that this drabble is not spooky at all.
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“Twirl for me again, princess.”
Ari leans back against the headboard of his king-sized bed, his blue eyes dark as navy as he brings his glass of scotch up to his lips and takes a sip. His gaze is stuck on you as he lounges relaxedly, still dressed in his suit from work. Well, you’d taken his jacket off and loosened his tie for him before he’d patted you on your bum and sent you to your dressing room to try on the new costume he’d got for you.
You’d only been seeing Ari for two months. And by “seeing” you meant you’d only been his sugar baby for about two months, when you’d met him at the cocktail bar where you worked as a waitress. He’d come by one night with a bunch of his colleagues (all of them in expensive suits, clearly extremely wealthy). That notion had been confirmed when he’d pressed a few hundred-dollar bills into your hand at the end of the night, his eyes looking at you expectantly as if he knew you’d give him your number.
You had, of course. What followed was two months filled with expensive gifts, a hefty weekly allowance, a new designer wardrobe, glittering jewels and some incredible sex to top it all off. You’d gotten to know Ari in many different ways these past sixty days. But what you didn’t know he was so big on Halloween.
Your “costume” was for Ari’s eyes only, as he’d warningly told you when he’d handed you the shopping bag. And there was no way you could’ve worn it anywhere else: the baby pink satin negligee barely reached mid-thigh, but it was so breathtakingly pretty, so dainty with the lacy white trim and matching satin white gloves. The back was almost completely exposed, showcasing the pretty pink lace panties you had on underneath (with a heart-shaped cut-out that exposed your bum). A sparkly tiara on your head completed the look.
He'd dressed you as his little princess.
“How come you don’t have a costume, Ari?” You ask as you twirl around for him slowly, trying not to topple over in the expensive white pumps he’d also made you wear.
Ari licks his lips, beckoning you closer with just a look. He’d trained you well in the two months he’d had you, moulding you into his perfect angel who leapt at his slightest command. It was easy, since you were so cute and innocent, and so happy to please him. All he had to do was look at you a certain way and you’d jump to obey him. He watches you closely now, looking so precious and hot in your little princess costume (or lingerie, rather) and your lips part as you eagerly move closer to him, almost tripping in your heels to do so.
He chuckles, “I’m too old to be dressing up for Halloween, sweetheart.”
You pout, “You’re not old, Ari! You’re just perfect!”
He can’t help but smile at your cuteness and naivety; he really had plucked up the prettiest and most innocent little girl with a heart of pure gold.
“That’s real sweet of you, baby. Now turn around and bend over for me so I can see that cute baby ass.” He takes another sip of his scotch. You’d made him his favourite drink the moment he’d walked into his penthouse apartment where you’d been waiting for him like the delectable little treat you were – sweeter than any Halloween candy, and he could ravage you forever without ever feeling sick.
You giggle, feeling slightly rebellious. You’d had a few sips of wine before he’d come home, your anticipations running high whilst you waited impatiently for him. He was like a drug to you, with his rugged good looks and muscular body and charming smile. You were also incredibly attracted to the power he wielded; Ari owned and was the CEO of multiple companies across the globe, and for the life of you, you couldn’t imagine how he’d ever decided to ask for your number that one fateful night two months ago.
“But Ari, since I’m a princess tonight, that means I’m royalty. Which means I don’t have to follow anyone’s orders but my own, right?” You smile triumphantly.
Ari looks infinitely amused as he runs his hand through his unruly hair, his other hand inching down to palm his clothed crotch.
“Little princesses like you still have to take orders from their daddy,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you teeter in your high heels. “Which, by the way, is what you should be addressing me as. You call me Ari one more time and I’ll take you over my knee. I don’t care if it’s Halloween.”
You pout harder, looking so extra cute that Ari has to pace himself from reaching over and grabbing you right then and there. He’s waited to dress you up in this costume for a while now, though, and he knows he needs to savour it.
“That’s a good little princess,” he murmurs in approval once you turn around and bend over, giving him the perfect view of your cute ass. “Look at those pretty little princess panties, hugging that cute baby ass. You like your panties, baby?”
“Y-Yeah,” you pant, and he knows you’re turned on by his words. “Thank you, daddy, I really like them.”
“You like being my little princess?”
“Yes, daddy. Wanna be your princess forever.”
Ari can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are, and when you say things like that, he just wants to gather you in his arms and plant a thousand kisses to your face, cuddle with you and buy you whatever you please. But he has to keep a strong resolve tonight, because he’s been waiting for an opportunity to ravage you in your princess costume for ages now, and he’s been working overtime at the office and he knows he deserves this.
“Daddy? Can I stop bending over now? It’s startin’ to hurt.”
Ari swirls his glass of scotch around absentmindedly, a wicked look crossing his face, “Soon, baby. First, I want you to spank yourself.”
You gasp, and then there’s a pause.
“M-Me? Spank myself?”
“You heard me, baby. I won’t repeat myself.”
You reach back gingerly, squeezing your eyes shut because you’ve got your back to him and you know he can’t see (usually, he always demands you keep your eyes open). You give your behind a tentative little slap, feeling embarrassed to say the least.
“Harder, sweetheart. How can you be a princess if you don’t have a firm hand?” You can hear the smugness in his voice, and it just turns you on more. You know your new princess panties are soaked through, and you wonder if he can tell.
“B-But I don’t wanna have a firm hand,” you whimper, already feeling very submissive. You like it when he spanks you (although it hurts but it hurts so good). But you spanking yourself? It’s embarrassing. It turns you on because you’re doing it for him, but it’s still embarrassing.
“Are you talking back to me, baby?” Ari’s eyes are hooded with lust as he openly palms his dick.
“Sorry, daddy,” you bite your lip before giving your ass another slap – harder this time. And Ari exhales slowly as he watches your ass jiggle cutely, and he commands you to hit yourself again, to not stop until he says so. And he watches you spank yourself, turned on beyond belief at your complete submission.
“Fuck, you have such a cute ass, baby. Squeeze it for me.” He orders you, voice gruff and strained because of how horny he is.
You obey, squeezing the soft flesh through your barely-there panties. Ari’s fingers itch to touch you himself, make you mewl with pleasure just with his touch the way only he could. Because he’s the only one who’s ever touched you like that, who ever would touch you like that. You were his baby, his little princess and he’d take care of you forever.
“Stop. Now come here.”
You swallow, straightening up to walk over to him, except he stops you again by just a look.
“No, baby. On your knees. Daddy wants you to crawl.”
You decide to test your luck one last time, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes, “But daddy, I’m supposed to be a princess and not a kitten. And princesses don’t crawl.”
Ari rolls his eyes, “You’ll do as I say. Baby princesses like you still need to obey their daddy because you’re not in charge, got that?”
“Y-Yeah, I got it.” You sink down to your knees and slink over to him, making sure to sway your hips as you crawl because you know he loves that. And you love how he looks at you darkly, his eyes so blown out with lust and want. As if he’s restraining himself from just grabbing you and fucking you. Because you know how virile he is, how high his sex drive is.
“That’s my good little girl,” he coos, making you feel all special. You stop at the foot of the bed and he reaches down, petting the top of your head, stroking your hair like you’re some kind of pet. Your sparkly tiara falls lopsided, but manages to stay on your head. But you like how he strokes you, you like how affectionate it feels, and so you nuzzle up into his palm, wanting him to stroke you some more.
Instead, he grabs a handful of your hair and yanks you up, manhandling you as if you’re his little baby, till he’s got you nestled on top of him, and you can feel his hard dick underneath you. A wicked look in his eye, he straightens your tiara before patting your cheek condescendingly.
“How’re you enjoying Halloween so far, princess?”
You mull over it, trying not to focus on his hard dick directly underneath your butt. “It’s nice. This is the first time in a few years that I’ve stayed in for Halloween, instead of going to a party.”
This was true, since being at college for the past two years meant that you always went out on Halloween.
“Oh yeah? You’d rather be at a frat party right now?” Ari’s hands land on your hips, grinding you down against his dick so that you’re effectively dry humping him. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head, and you made grabby hands at him but he holds you at bay.
“No, no, no!” You answer desperately, trying to lean forward to kiss him but he holds you in place firmly, “Would much rather be with you, daddy. I love you so much.”
Ari can feel his heart melting fast. You’re just so delectable and cute, blinking up at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours. And it had been so easy for you to fall in love with him, you’d told him so only two weeks into your whirlwind romance. He’d taken you out on his private yacht, and he’d bought you the prettiest sailor outfit, and you’d clung to him because you were scared you might fall overboard because of how clumsy you were.
But you’d looked so pretty as the salty sea air rushed over your face, and how you just wouldn’t let go of his hand. You couldn’t stop smiling either, and when he’d kissed you on the deck, holding you firm against the railing as the sun set into the ocean behind you, that’s when you’d whispered it breathlessly against his lips. Like you couldn’t keep it in any longer: I love you.
You’d tried to tug away from him after that, embarrassed at how you’d let your inner feelings slip out so soon into your relationship with him. But you couldn’t help it, he just made you feel so safe, so alive, so wonderful, so you. You’d tried to make a hasty exit, making up an excuse that you had to make a phone call, and praying he hadn’t heard you whisper those three forbidden words…
But Ari had heard you, and his heart had swelled in a way he never thought it could. He’d entered this relationship with you because he needed someone to take care of, and well, you were so hot the night he’d first seen you. So pretty and innocent and lovely. And then he’d gotten to know you, and you were so lively, and made him feel so youthful, made him feel so powerful and important, made him feel like he had to protect you while you danced around his life and made him laugh and cheered him up the way only you could.
He’d held you tightly against him that night on the yacht, not letting you slip away as he’d cupped your beautiful face in his hands, and he’d told you that he loved you too, more than he’d ever loved anyone else. And the look on your face, that look of utter devotion and awe, like you had stars in your eyes – he wished he could bottle it up inside a jar and keep that look safe forever.
That’s how you’re looking at him now, in your cute little princess lingerie, and your lips are begging to be kissed. Ari can’t stand it any longer, and he grabs you by the back of the neck and pulls you down, pressing his lips on yours in a heady kiss.
“You’ve been waiting for tonight, haven’t you?” He breathes against your lips.
You swallow harshly and nod. Of course you had, the moment he’d texted you this morning telling you to be ready for him at his apartment when he got home. That was obvious code that he was going to ruin you tonight, and the pretty princess costume was just the cherry on top of the cake.
Biting your lip, you shyly untuck his shirt from his pants and lift it up, revealing his toned, hairy abs. God, he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen – with an amazing, buff body that was twice the size of yours. He was bigger than you in every single way possible, and you sigh as your fingers run over the deep ridges of his tanned six pack.
Ari snorts, “Like what you see, princess?”
“Uh huh. You’re so hot.” You blurt out.
“Thank you, baby. Why don’t you give me your panties?”
The way he so casually redirects the conversation has your cheeks feeling hot and your pussy clenching in anticipation. Taking your panties off while straddling his crotch proves to be difficult, but you’re nimble enough to make it work. The lace is wet with your juices and your cheeks heat up even more as you hand your panties to him.
Ari brings the lacy material up to his nose, sniffing in your pretty scent. God, he wanted to be buried with your scent if it was possible. He can’t help but find the gusset, sucking the silk into his mouth and tasting your juices.
“You’re so sweet, princess.” He mutters, before shoving the panties in his pocket.
“I’m all wet, daddy,” you pout, knowing your wetness has seeped over to stain his pants as you sit on top of his crotch.
“Oh yeah?” Ari feigns disinterest, busying himself with another sip of his scotch. “Is your little baby cunt getting needy?”
“Yeah!”
“You want daddy to take care of her? Your little cunt?”
You throb at his words, “Yes, please!”
He makes no move to put his scotch away. “I think I’d rather watch you, princess. You can rub yourself on me to make yourself cum.”
You shudder at how casually he says it, but at the same time bite your lip, “B-But daddy, I feel so empty down there. Need you inside me, pretty please?”
Ari pretends to mull over it, “I don’t know, gorgeous, your baby pussy’s awfully tight. I don’t think I’d even get a finger in.” (That was true, you were super tight, but he could work you open in a matter of minutes. He always did, after all, but he wants you to work for an orgasm tonight).
You grab his hand and push it between your legs, feeling like you’re about to go into heat by how turned on you are. “Y-You could stretch me open, daddy, I-I don’t mind! Just wanna feel you inside me.”
“Maybe later, sweetie,” Ari murmurs, indulgently brushing your hair off your face and pulling your cheek when you pout. Of course, he definitely intended to fill you up real good, fuck both your holes silly with his cock and his tongue and his fingers. But the night was still young, and right now he wanted a show while he enjoyed his drink. “C’mon, baby, it’s Halloween. Even a princess has to work a little to get her treat.”
He picks you up by your waist, placing you on his hairy abs, which are rock hard just like his cock which is still in the confines of his pants.
You grab on to his shoulders to steady yourself, before you start moving. And oh, it feels absolutely heavenly, your quivering pussy rubbing against his hard abs, the hair on his torso catching against your swollen clit and immediately making you moan.
“F-Feels so good, daddy,” you whimper, and it makes Ari smile at how cute you are. How much you love it when he makes you feel good, how you selfishly chase after your own pleasure whenever you can because he knows it’s never felt this good for you before. You don’t have to tell him that he’s the best you’ve ever had – he can see it in your eyes every time.
“Yeah? Is your cute baby cunt getting some relief? You enjoy using your daddy like this?” He mutters lowly, pinching your hip to make you move faster as he takes another sip of his scotch. His cock is incredibly tight still confined to his pants, and he’d have loved for you to grind against his cock instead but he knows he would’ve blown his load because of the friction paired with how hot you look right now.
“You enjoy dressing up like a little princess and giving your daddy a show?” He continues, feeling the beast inside him awaken as you whimper so cutely on top of him. With his fingers gripping your hip tightly, he roughly drags you back and forth over his abs, “That’s right, slutty baby, make a mess all over daddy, you like that, don’t you?”
“Yes!” You cry, getting to that point where everything that leaves your mouth is either a plea or incoherent gibberish and crying. That’s when you get so submissive that there isn’t a single thought in your head, and Ari’s sure he could make you do absolutely anything when you’re in that mindset.
His stomach is wet with your cream, and you’re grinding against him desperately now, and he knows you’ll cum any second because it doesn’t take much to get you to cum. He remembers doing this a lot with you in the early days of the relationship, when he knew for a fact you’d need a lot of prep before you could take his big, fat dick inside your pussy. So he’d made you grind on his torso instead, like how you were doing now, as a sort of practice before the real sex. And it’s like you’d never been pleasured before in your life because you came so quickly, over and over again, squirting all over him and begging for him to put it inside you.
Clearly, nothing had changed in two months.
He downs his scotch before setting the glass aside on his bedside table. Then he licks his lips, hand slipping down between your legs. He spreads your folds and you gasp, rocking your hips faster as you feel more now, your clit rubbing deliciously against his abs.
“C’mon, princess,” he urges, moving you up and down on his abs harder, “make yourself cum, baby, squirt all over daddy like the good little girl I know you can be. Like all good princesses squirt on their daddies. You wanna be a good princess, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do!”
“Say it, then.”
“W-Wanna be a good princess for you, daddy. Wanna be so good!” Your face is glistening with sweat and tears, and you’re working so hard for your release. He knows all he has to do is rub your clit once or twice, or even just press against it and you’d cum. But he wants you to work for it, so he can praise you for it and then reward you for making yourself cum with minimal help from daddy.
“You’re daddy’s sexy little princess,” Ari murmurs lowly, pulling you down by the neck till your face is buried in the crook of his neck, and you bite at his skin and cry and moan his name as he talks, “you’re doing such a good job, baby, rubbing that baby cunt all over daddy’s abs. You’re so good for me, baby, so fucking good and I love you so much. Daddy loves you so much, honey. More than anything in the world.”
You squirt all over his stomach, your sweet cream covering ever ridge and dip of his muscular torso. You cry and cry, like how you often do when you’re overwhelmed when orgasming, grabbing at his face and kissing him, and he kisses you back fervently, allowing you to make out with him because he knows how overwhelmed and good you feel.
“That’s such a good girl,” he praises you, rubbing your back as you quiver in his arms, and he can feel your pussy quivering too, “such a good fucking girl, you worked so hard, baby and I’m so proud of you.”
“L-Love you so much, daddy,” you whimper pitifully, your poor tiara finally falling off your head, and Ari wants to chuckle at how spent you look, how exhausted you look from rubbing your pussy on him for a couple of minutes. He reminds himself to get you a bottle of water in a few minutes once you’ve calmed down, because he knows he’ll be keeping you busy for the better part of tonight and he wants you to have the energy for it.
But for now, he’ll let you rest for a few minutes. You snuggle up into his chest, breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. Ari pours himself another scotch, and lights up his cigar, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke out in your direction.
“Happy Halloween, sweetheart,” he grins wickedly, and you lift your head up slightly to offer him a weak smile. “Now put your tiara back on, princess. The night’s not over yet.”
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AKSHDSAJGA WHAT DO YOU THINK???? PLEASE LET ME KNOW THIS WAS EXTREMELY SPONTANEOUS AFNKLAGNSKAL I JUST AM OBSESSED WITH SUGAR DADDY ARI AND HIS ABS BYE.
anyways lemme know what you think and pls do reblog and leave any feedback thank you ily
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agoodflyting · 9 days
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Why Aziraphale is completely ridiculous in the Bastille scene (and I love him so much for it)
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A while ago I posted a comparison of Aziraphale and Crowley's costumes in the 1793 flashback in Good Omens and I wanted to add these little tidbits. (Because they haunt me.)
I feel like most people know this but IF YOU DON'T, Paris in 1793 is right in the middle of something called La Terreur.
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HISTORY LESSON If you didn't learn this in school the French Revolution was when, after years of escalating social tension, a coalition representing the working classes of France revolted against the monarchy, violently overthrew King Louis XVI, and declared France to be a republic.
The new National Convention governing France ruled that King Louis XVI and his wife Marie Antoinette were traitors to the people of France because of how they had spent ridiculous amounts of money on luxuries for themselves while vast numbers of the lower classes were literally starving to death. (keep the bold in mind - wealth and class disparities were one of the key causes of the whole-ass revolution)
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In 1793 (year of the flashback) both the King and Queen were executed by guillotine for their crimes.
This kicks of something called The Reign of Terror (La Terreur if you want to be French about it). A multi-year-long period in which the National Convention goes on a bloody witch hunt for any and every member of the middle or upper classes who could even possibly be considered a traitor by those same standards.
If you A) had money or privilege, and B) had ever used your money or privilege to treat yourself, you were getting executed. Over 25,000 people died during the Reign of Terror, half of them by guillotine. In fact, the iconic guillotine was used because it was physically impossible to keep up with the sheer number of people they were executing in Paris every single day.
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Some things that could get you killed (actually and completely seriously) during the Reign of Terror:
Implying in any way you were sympathetic to the monarchy
Having a noble title
Having expensive things
Wearing expensive, luxurious clothes (*cough* AZIRAPHALE)
helping or sympathizing with anyone who did any of the above
a working-class person saying you were mean to them once
And then there's this bitch...
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I AM NOBILITY PLEASE KILL ME So we have established that Paris in 1793 is in the middle of a frenzied, state-sanctioned bloodbath in which the working classes are massacring everyone even remotely nobility-adjacent. And in the middle of this frenzy, Aziraphale proceeds to roll up in Paris in this outfit:
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How will this outfit get him killed? Let me count the ways...
First off- at this point everyone with even the tiniest shred of self- preservation is hiding the fact that they are in any way associated with the monarchy. The wealthy are straight-up abandoning mansions. The middle-class are plastering over decorations to make their house look 'poor'. The only people dressed remotely decent are the guys leading the National Convention and that's just because nobody can stop them. Everyone else is in 24/7 peasant cosplay or else they are covering themselves in cockades and sashes on to show they're pro-Republic.
Aziraphale is basically a giant shiny white sign saying I AM NOBILITY PLEASE KILL ME.
First off the lace jabot and lace cuffs are both associated with the old-school wealthy in the 1790's.
His coat is also decorated in gold braid and silver buttons, which are both marks of wealth and luxury.
He basically looks like he works for Louis XIV - not just rich, but old school rich.
We know it's his natural hair color, but hair powdering (with clay and starch) had been a big trend with the rich all throughout the 18th century to get that clean white venerable look . To someone who doesn't know it's natural, it would very much look like he's wearing hair powder.
He's wearing shades of cream and white, which are very hard to keep clean and clearly states that the wearer is rich and can afford the upkeep necessary to keep an outfit like that stain-free.
He's wearing white knee-breeches and stockings, also called culottes. See above about laundry and how rich you had to be to wear white, but also working-class men wore long pants like this:
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A large faction involved in the Revolution were the Sans-Culottes (no-culottes aka we wear long pants LIKE GOOD OLD WORKING MEN). Culottes are specifically associated with everything the revolution hated. That's right - Aziraphale is literally wearing The Fanciest of Fancy Pants in a city where a group called The Men Against Fancy Pants are running around murdering people.
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And then there are his shoes.
Oh god his shoes
I could do a whole post about Aziraphale's blessed little white satin pumps and how ridiculous they are.
Actually I might just do that because this is getting so long and I still have to talk about the brioche.
So I can't remember if it's in the script book or if it's from Neil Gaiman's tumblr, but it's apparently canon (?) that Aziraphale was going around in that outfit asking people where he could get crepes and brioche when he was arrested.
The Affair of the Brioches
So... uh... we've all heard the line attributed to Marie Antoinette- how when she was told that her people were starving because there was no bread left in Paris, she famously said...
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It's morphed into 'let them eat cake', but the line is first recorded as, "Then let them eat brioches."
While it's unlikely she ever actually said it, the important thing is that... people in 1793 would have thought she said it. It was used as political smear to show how arrogant and out of touch the monarchy was. Marie Antoinette in particular was reviled by the people of France, who thought she was the main cause of their economic problems. That's why she was executed too.
Bread and brioche and the lines between poverty and privilege were a big thing in Revolutionary France. There was a lot of political connotation to what you ate. The French Revolution came about because of decades of suffering among the lower classes of France. It wasn't something that some dudes just decided to do. The people of Paris have been through years of the absolute worst, most oppressive poverty and starvation you can imagine, all while watching the rich throw money around crazy.
So let us recap.
Aziraphale is dressed so ridiculously posh that he looks like a joke parody of a nobleman... and he is bumbling around Paris during the Reign of Terror. Asking people. For brioche. How I imagine everyone looked at him:
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It is so astoundingly tone deaf and tactless. He is basically cosplaying as Marie Antoinette and then going around asking the poor for cake.
I just.... Aziraphale. babygirl. no. oh no. You're lucky they even bothered to take you to prison. I am amazed Crowley ever let him live that down.
I have no conclusion other than this. Aziraphale is ridiculous and I love him so much.
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YES YOU REALLY SHOULD SIR.
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lxkeee · 5 months
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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE
PART TWO
pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fanfiction
notes: lmaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago 😭 also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]
warnings: none except hand holding before marriage lmao.
PART ONE | PART THREE
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The princess of hell along with her girlfriend was just settling in the guest room heaven provided for them temporarily as they had an important meeting with them.
Charlie and Vaggie stopped talking as their was a knock on their door, “Who do you think is it?” Charlie asked and Vaggie shrugged and Charlie decided to open the door.
There stood a rather tall female angel with three pairs of wings and a golden halo on her head, the short white dress accompanied by gold compliments the woman's figure beautifully.
Safe to say both Charlie and Vaggie were mesmerized, the woman before them was drop dead gorgeous. Though, Vaggie was still cautious, despite a former angel, she doesn't know who this woman is as some seraphim angels tend to not show themselves to the lower ranking aside from Sera.
“Are you Princess Charlotte? The daughter of Lucifer?” the woman asked with her [e/c] eyes sparkling in excitement, the woman quickly placed her hands over her mouth in embarrassment, “Oh! Sorry for the intrusion, I forgot to introduce myself,” she says with a small smile before giving the two girls a curt bow, “My name is [y/n], a seraphim. It's a pleasure to meet you two.”
Charlie gave her a big grin, giving the woman a curt bow. The princess of hell decided to trust her as she couldn't sense any bad intentions from the older woman and to her, the name [y/n] sounded awfully familiar, she just forgot where she had heard it before. “It is so nice to meet you, I am Charlotte but you can call me Charlie.” Charlie said and [y/n] just grinned as Vaggie decided to just watch the two, still cautious. The older woman's eyes landed on Vaggie and she gave her a grin, “And who might you be?” she asked her and Vaggie just glared at her before avoiding her gaze, “Vaggie.”
[Y/n] just grins, her eyes analyzing the gray haired woman before letting out a small hum before shifting her gaze to the princess. [Y/n]'s heart ached a little to see how much the girl looked exactly like her father. [Y/n] misses him, she wished she did something that could have prevented his fall. Regrets always comes last. She took a deep breath then once more wore a bright smile on her face. Charlie noticed the shift of her mood but decided not to question it.
“So Charlie, I came here as I was curious what your plan for hell is about.” [y/n] says softly, she wasn't there during the meeting Lucifer requested for hell and this time, she promised to be there for his daughter instead. Charlie's eyes sparkled excitedly, excited that an angel aside from that bitch ass Adam would finally listen to her. “Really?!” The princess asked excitedly and [y/n] can only let out a soft chuckle, “Of course, why don't we take a walk while you tell me about it? Your friend can join us too.”
Charlie calmed down and gave the older woman a smile, “Vaggie here is actually my girlfriend.” she says, expecting the older woman to judge her but she was surprised when [Y/n] just ruffled her hair. “My apologies, I didn't know.”
The younger girls were surprised, that an angel didn't show any disgust to their relationship and she even looked like she approved.
“Now then, how about that walk?”
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“And that's what I'm planning, I wished for my people to find redemption and join heaven.” Charlie explained softly, taking a bite of her strawberry cheesecake. Both [y/n] and Charlie sat in a rather peaceful cafe in heaven, angelic sigils circling around them as [y/n] casted them for their privacy. [Y/n] can only smile as she listens to the younger girl who rambles about her plans for her people, [y/n] can't help but remember how similar Charlie is to her father, oh heavens... She missed him so much.
Vaggie didn't join them unfortunately, she said that she wanted to rest a little bit in the guest room.
[y/n] gracefully placed down the cup of coffee she was sipping and gently wiping her lips with a napkin, “That is truly admirable Charlie, to see you have so much hope for your people really reminds me of your father. I really hope it will come to life.” the compliment was almost enough for Charlie to burst into tears, to hear someone praise her plans and believe in it, it felt like a mother praising her.
Though, she was able to stop her tears as she realizes something. Reminds me of your father. [Y/n] and her dad knew each other.
Then Charlie remembers, the stories her dad told her about heaven and the stories he told her about his closest angel friend—the only one who believed in him. She remembers thinking that she felt her dad loved that angel in one way or another, with how fondly he spoke of her—with so much adoration.
“I remember now, you were my father's best friend!” Charlie gasped, a hand over her mouth and [y/n] can only chuckle, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Were? I still think of him as my best friend.” She chuckles softly, “Though, I don't blame him if he doesn't think the same way as I wasn't able to help him back then.” she continues sadly and Charlie had to wave her arms around to stop her, “Nonono, my father doesn't think like that. You're still his best friend.” Charlie reassured the older woman.
“Really now? How is he these days? I haven't heard from him after so many eons.” [y/n] asked softly with a slight chuckle and Charlie can only sigh with a small smile on her face, “Well... He's still how he usually is. Kind, trying his best for me, and lately he had an obsession with making rubber ducks.” she says with a small giggle making the older woman chuckle, “Thay sounds like him, though surprised that he still loved ducks. He used to ramble to me about random duck facts when he was still here. He was such a dork, I truly missed him.” [y/n] says with a chuckle, a longing look in her eyes.
Charlie was able to put two and two together, her father and this woman loved each other and she can only assume they didn't confess in the fear of ruining their friendship. Charlie loves her parents but a part of her is hoping in a different universe, her father and [y/n] are happy together.
Charlie decided not to mention it to the woman and just continued hanging out with the older woman. “I am sure he misses you too.”
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“The meeting will start in a few hours and Charlie?” [y/n] says softly before summoning a wax sealed white envelope out of thin air, gold sparkling from where the envelope is as it slowly falls into her hands. Charlie looked at her in curiosity, “Can I ask you a favor?” [y/n] asked her hesitantly and Charlie just nodded, “Of course!”
“Can I ask you a favor of delivering this letter to Lucifer?” She asked and gently extended her hand towards the younger girl in which the girl accepted the letter and placed it in her chest pocket. “Of course! My father would be delighted to hear from you.”
“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate it dearly.” [y/n] smiled softly as she stood up from her seat, extending her hand to help the hell princess up from her seat. “Now, let me walk you back to your room so you can get ready for your meeting.”
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Now the princess of hell wishes the other angels were just as understanding as [y/n]. Even though the meeting didn't go as planned, she felt reassured as both Emily and [y/n] were there in the court room.
“What are we even talkin' about? Some crack-whore who fucked up already? He blew his shot, like the cocks in his mouth. This discussion is senseless and petty.” Lute sneers with an annoyed glare, putting on her mask. Though, Charlie can feel her patience thinning, her eyes glaring at the angels.
The other angels looking down on the scene happening below, [y/n] looking worried for her while glaring at Adam and Lute. “There's no question to be posed, he's unholy, case closed. Did you forget that 'Hell is forever'?” Adam and Lute sang mockingly and [y/n] could feel her anger starting to boil. She always hated Adam, that egoistical prick, she looked up at Sera as if asking her to stop this nonsense.
“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month. Gotta say, I can't wait to—” Adam sang and [y/n] noticed Sera getting worried, “Adam.” Sera says sternly but it seems the man was too busy to hear her, “Come down and exterminate you!”
At that moment, loud ringing was only what [y/n] heard as she was shocked to hear him say that. Exterminate...? Don't tell me...? [Y/n] asked herself before glaring at Sera, the other angels were also shocked by the reveal.
“Wait!” Emily exclaimed, shocked by the reveal and Adam just noticed his slip up, “Shit.”
“What are you saying? Let me get this straight, you go down there and kill those poor souls?” Emily asked, horrified as she slowly flies down towards Charlie, holding her hand, “You didn't know?” Charlie asked and Emily shook her head. “Whoops!” Adam says, not a care in the world, “Guess the cat's out of the bag.” Lute says with a smirk, “What's the big deal?” Adam asked with a condescending smirk and [y/n] wished she could go down there and punch him.
“Sera, tell me that you didn't know...” both Emily and [y/n] asked simultaneously, though, Sera was just looking at Emily. [Y/n] was pissed at this whole revelation, human souls are killed in heaven by the hands that are supposed to be pure holiness. To think about blood staining those hands, fills her with disgust.
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The whole courtroom was a mess, [y/n] doesn't remember what exactly happened. The reveal that Vaggie was an angel didn't surprise her, she can sense the girl's angelic blood but the reveal that Sera was the one who ordered for the extermination to happen, filled her with rage.
“Charlie! Don't lose hope! We will find a way to help you!” Emily says as we watched Vaggie and Charlie be sucked by a portal back to hell, “Don't give up! We'll find a way!” [y/n] added, making sure the two girls heard. Sera glared at her and [y/n] glared back.
That's what Charlie last saw, Emily looking worried and disappointed but what worried her was Sera and [y/n] started arguing, angelic powers starting to spark between them and that was the last thing she saw as she returned back in hell. Thankfully, the letter was safe in her pocket.
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written-in-flowers · 2 months
Text
Their Pretty Pet: Sanhwajoong x Fem!reader
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Pairing: Incubus!Hongjoong, Incubus!Seonghwa, Incubus!San x Fem!Human!Reader | side pairings: SanHwaJoong
Genre: smut, loads of it MINORS DNI
Word Count: 7k
Summary: Being brought before Lords of Inferno, you expected to be killed on the spot, except the three incubi take an extreme liking to you instead. You are the pet they've been looking for, and you should could yourself lucky.
Tags: Master/Slave relationship, polyamory, mmmxf, foursome sex, triple penetration, oral sex (m. and f. giving/receiving), rough oral sex, vaginal fingering, handjobs, pet names ("pretty" "pet" "whore" "slut" "bitch" "kitten" "darling" and variations/ "master" "my lord") monster fucking, demon fucking, belly bulging, bigdick!ateez, creampies, massive creampies, degradation, slight humiliation, slight dumbification, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, rough sex, bisexual sex, breeding kink, vibrating demon dick, spanking, nipple play, breast play, cum swallowing, deep throating, anal sex.
@pirateeznet
Pretty Lady Masterlist
***
The nerves rattled your bones, and weakened your knees. Your mind told your feet to keep up with Rufus, but your body did not cooperate. Only by the tug of a chain did you finally move. Even with the hot steam coming from the stone cracks, and the warm air blowing through the night, a cold sweat came over you. You had no business coming up the Black Keep. Sinners like you are meant to be an amusement for the lower demons; you committed sins in your life that earned you a spot in the third level of Hell. You spent eternity in the brothels of the inner circle, being a pleasure slave to anyone with enough coin. 
You’d learned high class only pays for well bred slaves or lesser demon forms. The ones trained in the finer arts, who can speak multiple languages, can do magic, and are skilled in instruments of culture and torture. You only learned the sexual practices Your clients and owners taught you. 
They won't want you, and the moment they realize what you are, you're dead. 
“Stop dawdling, wretch,” Rufus, a large, muscular demon with bright red skin and tall black horns, tugged on your chain harshly. He then growled when you did not move. “Lords do not wait on bottom dwellers like you.”
You said nothing as you forced yourself to move. In your flimsy shift, you could feel every brush of hot air blow past you. It normally did not bother you, but it felt hard to breathe through your tight chest. He guided you to the tall wooden doors with their gargoyle head knockers. In three loud slams of the knocker, the door creaked open. On the other side stood a very tall man with black hair parted to the side. He wore a black and white suit and gloves. Round eyes carried a certain haughtiness that you'd grown used to seeing. 
“Can I help you?” He asked. 
“Evening, I have come to see The Masters Hongjoong, Seonghwa and San. I have brought a prospective pet for them,” Rufus responded, tugging your chain to bring you closer. 
The butler took one look at you, then stood aside. “Very well. Follow me. They are just finishing with another proprietor.”
Rufus didn't like the idea of another slave owner being in the castle. It meant competition, and he hated that. He, as always, took it out on you by roughly pulling on your leash. The butler led you through a hall of black and white marble, surrounded by landscape paintings and other ancient possessions. A candlelit chandelier hung from the high ceiling, bathing the room in a bright golden glow. The carpet liners on the floor felt soft beneath your feet, and the castle did not feel as hot inside. He took you around the staircase into an adjacent hallway, where you saw her. 
A succubus and her handler left the room; the handler seething and the succubus in silent tears. From her expensive lace and satin halter dress to her gold sandals, to the golden ornaments in her hair, you knew a succubus when you saw one. She had real horns and a real tail. Rufus paid a stylist to braid and glue ram horns into your head; then he paid a leatherworker to create a realistic tail to seal on your tailbone. The braiding pained your scalp, the glue made you nauseous, and the tail swished uncomfortably. How long did Rufus think this charade will last? Long enough for him to run off with the money, no doubt. You hated thinking of what would happen when your “owners” find out you’re not a demon at all. They’ll tear you apart, and send you to the deepest pits where the worst of the worst suffer an eternity of torment. 
The thought terrified you. 
“Masters,” the butler said when he entered a sitting room, “Another slave owner has arrived with a prospect for you.”
The voice inside the room turned quiet. “Who?” asked a particularly high voice. 
The butler turned to Rufus, “Name?”
“Rufus, from the House of Kisses.”
The butler repeated this to his masters. “Bring him in,” the voice finally said. 
Rufus brought you into the room. Full of warm light, pricy decorations, and extravagant furniture, you'd never been amongst such opulence before. Three loveseats sat in the middle of the room around a square coffee table. A different man sat on each one. You knew they were incubi by the small curved horns on the crown of their heads. Demons of lust carried this trait, as well as long black tails to match. The petite man with hair the color of fresh cherries spotted you first. He casually drank from a brandy glass as he observed you. His satin black shirt and slacks gave him a trendy look that would kill in the living world. 
Beside him in the center on the white couch sat a long-limbed man with black hair reaching his shoulders. Angular features gave him a deadly appearance that matched the glint in his dark eyes. The cream colored shirt he wore was kept together by a matching corset and pants. He didn’t look up at first, since he focused mainly on the book in his lap instead. 
The third sat on a couch of dark blue cotton with gold pillows. His big shoulders stretched the blazer he wore, which you noticed covered nothing but his bare chest. Sculpted and tan, he was to die for. 
And you just might when they learn the truth. 
“Slaver,” the butler addressed Rufus, “May I present Lords Hongjoong,” he gestured to the red haired man, “Seonghwa,” he motioned to the man holding the book, “And San.”
“Well met, my lords.”
“Well, well, well,” Hongjoong said in a bored voice, knocking back the rest of his drink, “Look, Brothers, another slaver coming to waste our time.” 
“Oh, no, my lord,” Rufus said, “I promise your time will not be wasted on this one.”
“Why is that?” asked Seonghwa, putting his book aside. 
“This one here's a true blood succubus,” he said, already putting on his salesman voice. “Born and bred in the valley, she is a true born demon. She's nothing like the half-breeds and soulless human shells those other charlatans bring before you. See here, my lords?” He roughly pulled you to them by your horn, “These are real succubus horns! And this tail!” He yanked on your long, thin tail, “Is entirely her own. I know some slavers have been sticking on fake parts, but I assure you, my lords, this one's the real thing!”
The three men looked at one another, then back to him. “Bring her closer.”
Rufus pulled you over to them, letting you stand in the warm firelight. Three pairs of eyes stripped off your dress, and peeled back the layers of your skin to your soul. San's thin eyes fell heavy when he saw you fully. Seonghwa held you with intrigue, while Hongjoong looked ready to devour you. You gulped thickly and did not look at any of them directly.
“What can you do?” Hongjoong asked. 
“Do, my lord?”
“Yes, do. Can you speak any languages besides the common tongue?”
“No.”
“Can you read and write?”
“Some.”
“Can you sing?”
“No.”
“Dance?”
“No.”
“Do you specialize in any form of magic?”
“No.”
The more he asked, the dumber you felt. You wanted to tell them to look at you. You are not a demon, let alone a succubus. 
“Then what can you do?” He asked, laughing softly. 
“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa said, “Stop being so mean. It's not her fault.” He stood up and walked towards you. Lifting your head by the chin, he said, “The only thing these low born succubi are taught is how to suck cock…isn't that right, pet?”
“Yes,” you squeaked. 
“And can you do that?”
“She certainly can, my lord!” Rufus said from behind, “YN is one of my best! She's made men cum in less than two minutes!”
“I was asking her,” the man snapped. “I personally have no interest in slaves who do quick, sloppy work. I like to take my time.” He touched a strand of your hair, feeling the texture and taking in the length. “You'll need good grooming,” he noted flatly. “Luckily, Wooyoung is an expert in his field. He'll make you shine, little pet.”
It happened then, or at least you think it did. A flicker of realization hit Seonghwa as he looked over your face. He gave an audible sniff, his demon senses beginning to tingle. Yet, he said nothing about it, and turned your head to examine you in the light. 
“Can she fight?” San asked Rufus. 
“Psh, can she fight?” He scoffed comically at the question, “Of course she can! She used to be a pit fighter in-”
“-Can you fight?” He turned to you. 
“No.” 
“Why would she need to learn how to fight, San?” Hongjoong asked, annoyed. The butler came around to refill his drink. “She won't be doing any of that. She could get badly damaged, and then where would we be, hm?”
“Do you like going to the arena?” San asked, ignoring Hongjoong. 
“I've never been there.”
San nodded, then leaned back on his couch and held out his glass. The butler poured more brown liquid for him, and you watched him take a drink. 
“Yunho,” Seonghwa left you by the fireplace and went to his couch, “What do you think of her?”
“Master?” Yunho asked, confused. 
“Yes, what do you think of her? You'll be around her too. Is she pleasing to look at in your opinion?”
Yunho turned to you, and seemed to be really looking at you now. He scanned over your horns the most. They’re meant to look like his, curled and rolled back from his face. If anyone could spot fake ones, it should be him. You expected him to out you, but he instead said, “Yes. She is lovely.”
The three men appear to take this into account. “Take off your dress,” Hongjoong orders. 
“Well, hold on now, my lord,” Rufus begins to say, “We haven't discussed-”
“-I am not paying for something without inspecting it myself,” Hongjoong glared at Rufus. The ghoulish demon falters at this, and you see him back away. Hongjoong turned back to you, “Your dress. Take it off.”
You immediately unclip the back of your dress and let the top half fall over your belt. The sight of your breasts stunned the three men. Their eyes focused on them before you loosened your belt and let the rest of your clothes fall. Seonghwa bit the corner of his lip, trying to control his breathing as his eyes fell between your thighs. This is not the first time customers examine you. You’d grown used to it over the years of being in Hell. You are a toy to be played with. You are not your own anymore. You lost that when you began your life of lust, greed and overindulgence. When presented with the option to continue punishment or serve demons instead, you took servitude over the painful torture. In a way, enslavement was its own breed of torture.
Hongjoong turned in his seat, leaning against the arm rest as he continued gazing at you. San coughed and covered his own interest with a drink, but he still kept his eyes on you. 
“Beautiful,” Seonghwa breathed. “Absolutely stunning.” 
“You keep her groomed between her thighs but not the rest?” Hongjoong asked Rufus, though he kept his eyes on you. 
“That's what they care about the most. My patrons do not have your refined tastes, my lord.”
“Clearly. Come here.” 
You walk to him, which brings a smile to Hongjoong's face. “You obey instructions well,” he said, looking back down to your sex. “I like that.”
He gently touched the outside of your thigh, feeling the smooth skin and groping the supple flesh. You took in how his fingers felt on your thigh, the sensation sending shivers throughout your body. Hongjoong ran his hand up and down your thigh before reaching around to your backside. He gave one cheek a tender squeeze, humming his approval. 
“Very nice,” he commented, moving his hand between your thighs. You gasped when his fingers brushed your exposed center. “Very, very nice,” he said, rubbing his knuckle lightly along your slit. He chuckled when he heard your whimper. “Do you like that?” 
“Yes.”
He licked his thumb while maintaining eye contact, then he dragged it across your lips. A soft whimper escaped your throat as he traced the outer folds one by one; right when you thought he'd finally touch more, he dipped away. Finally, Hongjoong rolled his thumb around your clit, running over it languidly. Once a bit of wetness covered his thumb, Hongjoong tasted it while he gazed up at you. 
“Delicious,” he said, going back to rubbing your sex torturously slow. “I could get used to this.”
“Stop hogging,” griped Seonghwa. He took your hand to lead you from Hongjoong's black leather sofa to his pure white one. He took over, and you gasped when two thumbs pushed your lips apart. “The best way to know is to taste it right from the source,” he said, leaning forward. 
A single swipe of his tongue made you quiver. You weren’t sure if they enjoyed reactions, so you kept silent and stiff. Seonghwa took both sides and dove right to your center. You felt his tongue gingerly swiping at your damp lips, sliding between to tease your clit as much as possible. Your teeth dug into your bottom in an attempt to restrain your whimpering. However, your shaking knees started giving you away. 
“Moan for us, pretty,” Seonghwa ordered, pecking kisses across your thighs. “We want to hear how sweet you sound.” 
“Don’t be shy,” San said, palming himself through his pants. “Let it out.”
So you did. The sounds you tried stifling came out as Seonghwa’s tongue rapidly flicked at your clit. You’d been shaking by the time San came up behind you, and pressed your back to his chest. Without a word, he lifted one of your legs to rest it on the edge of the couch, and became a support to keep you upright. With more access to you, Seonghwa angled himself to have your sex completely on his mouth. San’s warm hands cupped both your breasts, and grazed your hard nipples with his thumbs. The light brushes added to the tightening sensation going on in your gut. 
“I’ve never seen a shy succubus before,” San said, voice low and deep in your ear. “I thought you all liked being fucked from sun up to sun down. Unless…you’re not really a demon at all?” 
“Wha-what?” Rufus exclaimed. “I told you she was, didn’t I?! I assure you, my lord-”
Rufus stopped when San reached to the “tail” you wore and tore it from you in a hard snap. The glue Rufus used ripped at your skin, the pain only distracting you from your pleasure for a brief moment. Seonghwa ceased when San tossed the fake tail onto the couch. Seeing the rubber extension beside him, he looked up to the horns braided into your scalp. It’d taken the stylist hours to fix them on your head, using loads of glue and tight lacing to keep them upright. Seonghwa stood up and tugged on one. You let out a cry, killing any arousal inside you as he lifted it enough to see your hair braided into the holes. 
“How dare you,” San scowled from behind you, “Try and fool us, you pathetic little worm.” 
“I-I-I…” Rufus struggled for a defense, and went for the only one he could think of, “She’s a human? I-I can’t believe it! The slaver I bought her from said she was a pureblood! I had no idea! I promise you, my lord, if I’d known that she was a human, I would never have dared bring her here!”
“How stupid do you think we are?” San asked, leaving you to face Rufus. “You really thought you could bring a human up here and try passing her off as a trueborn demon? Did you forget that the three of us are demons too?”
“I swear, my lord, I did not know! I am just as surprised as you are!”
A quick slash of silver and a spray of black blood went through the air. Rufus’s large hands clutched at his neck as blood started pouring from the open wound. He collapsed to the ground, gasping and gurgling pathetically as he clung to life. You didn’t know where demons went if they died, and you never asked. When Rufus finally laid dead on the floor, San held out his hand and Yunho produced a white handkerchief. San used it to wipe off the blade before handing both to Yunho. 
“Get rid of this filth,” San commanded, “Have Mingi help you.”
“At once, Master.”
San turned around to you, and all the blood drained from your body. Alone with three incubi who were nearly swindled by your idiot slaver, you knew where they’d turn their anger next. You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting a harsh blow any second. The second a pair of hands touched your hips, you jolted and gave a small squeal of fear. Yet, instead of harsh bruises or angry words, you felt warm lips dotting kisses on your thighs. San unbuttoned and removed his jacket, his tanned torso glowing in the fire light, and his dark eyes gleaming with lust. Hongjoong did the same, untucking and unbuttoning his shirt. 
“Pl-Plea-se,” you begged, eyes starting to sting, “I-I had nothing to do with it. I was only doing what I was told. I swear, I didn’t want to do it. He made me. I can only do what my owners tell me to do. I promise I’d never-”
“-Relax, pet,” Seonghwa soothed you with more kisses, doing so as he unclipped his corset and tossed it aside. “We’re not angry with you at all.”
“You’re not?”
“Why would we be?” Hongjoong asked, taking San’s place behind you. His warm naked chest slowly rekindled the arousal inside you. Hands sailing up your body to your tits, he grabbed them gently as he spoke in your ear. “We just got a new pet for free. I don’t see that as a reason to be angry, do you?”
“But…But, I’m useless. I’m not a succubus or any other kind of demon. I’m…”
“Fresh,” he said, kissing your neck, “Brand new. You’re like fresh clay, ready to be molded however we want. Why would I want a regular demon who already knows everything over a human that I can shape to my tastes instead?”
“Succubi are boring, in my opinion,” said San, unbuckling his pants as he watched the other two kiss and fondle you. “They all like the same things, cast the same spells, and bore me to tears with their seductive talk. I told my brothers I wanted something new; something I’ve never tried before. We’re incubi, so banging other succubi or incubi can get boring. It’s fine if we’re feeding, but for pleasure…I prefer something a little more interesting.” 
“And you’re such a pretty thing too,” Seonghwa added, kissing up your stomach as he stood up. “So soft and warm,” he slashed one of your nipples with his tongue, “And you taste so good.”
“Your pussy tastes like honey,” said Hongjoong, who held your breasts for Seonghwa to suck on. “I fear I might grow addicted to it after tonight.”
“I haven’t gotten a taste yet,” San protested, who walked over to the three of you fully nude. 
He turned you to face him, the other two falling to your sides instead, as he slipped his hand against your wet center. Two fingers teased around the edges of your clit, occasionally brushing up on it before pulling away. The repeated motions made you dizzy, and you knew you’d cum sooner or later. The three of them created this intense arousal inside you that burned like fire. They’d made a knot in your pussy, and only with their fingers and tongue could it be undone. San licked Your essence off his fingers, approving of your supposed sweet taste. Hongjoong and Seonghwa continued teasing your nipples; each man took one side to grab and lick while San touched your pussy. 
“She is yummy,” he smirked, going back for a second taste with wet fingers. “But, I’d love to see what she can do with these pretty lips.” 
He coated both his fingers in you again before lifting them to your mouth. Instinctively, you opened for him to slide them over your tongue. The three of them groaned when you sucked your juices off his fingers; the act alone made you throb. 
“Let’s take our pet somewhere more comfortable,” Seonghwa suggested, reaching between your thighs to rub you. “It’s our first time. We should enjoy her properly.”
“I agree,” said Hongjoong, licking up your neck while his hand joined Seonghwa on your pussy. Each demon took turns rubbing circles around your sensitive clit while San slid his thumb into your mouth next, “Besides, it’s too dark in here. I want to see all of her while I fuck her senselessly.”
They spoke about you as if you weren’t standing there, and you liked it. You’d learned long ago that you’re meant for pleasure. It was so rare a demon gave it back to you that you’d do nothing to ruin your chances. With a click of their fingers, you found yourself standing in a dimly lit room. Not bothered by your surroundings at the moment, you let the three men take you over to a large canopy bed in a corner of the bedroom. It was wide enough to comfortably fit all four of you, with white and pale blue sheets matching the drapes tied to the bedposts. They sat you on the edge of the bed, circling you with their cocks in their hands. They were perfect. Longer and thicker than you’re used to, you knew they’d split you open in the best possible way. You swallowed the saliva building in your mouth seeing them up close now. 
“Stick out your tongue for me.”
Hongjoong held himself by the shaft as he rubbed his tip on your tongue. The high moans he let out only fueled the flames. You licked up and down his length, tracing the veins pumping blood through it before taking him in your mouth. Humming around the sensitive head, you tasted the thin, salty precum already. Hongjoomg let out soft sighs as he watched you work him into your mouth inch by inch. Dark eyes full of lust, you suddenly became his entire world. While you gingerly sucked his cock, you started slowly stroking Seonghwa and San’s in time with it. You enjoyed the feeling of them pulsating in your hands; the muscles twitched whenever your thumb touched the underside, tracing the wrinkles just underneath the head. It reminded you of home for a moment: the big New Year’s office party where you fucked those three interns in the mailroom. They’d been so hot and you’d been so horny, the consequences at the time didn’t bother you. They never did, quite frankly. You were a big shot CEO. You had expensive tastes and an insatiable appetite. You still had that even in Hell where you’re nobody. 
“Take it all the way,” Hongjoong groaned, holding your head to push further into your mouth. “I know you can. Sluts like you are experts at taking dicks in your throat. You can do it.” 
You coughed and sputtered around him as he sunk towards your throat. His tip brushing against your uvula created a gagging sound that made all three men moan. Your pussy throbbed as you took him in your throat, loving how it blocked your airway entirely and nearly suffocated you. Hongjoong enjoyed this for a few strokes before pulling you off him, strings of spit connecting you both until he fully moved away. Seonghwa turned your head to face him, and laughed when you opened your mouth for him. 
“She certainly understands her place already,” he said, holding your hair as he started fucking your mouth. “We don’t need to go through the trouble of breaking her.”
“She’s been broken for quite a while,” groaned San, who guided your hand to spread his precum over his thick cock. “I can tell. She gives into it so easily.”
“She knows what she’s made for,” Hongjoong grinned, keeping your hand still as he pushed into it instead. “Don’t you, slut?” They laughed when you nodded in agreement. “You see, you don’t have to be a demon to be well bred.”
“She’ll certainly be bred after tonight.”
“If only,” San mused somewhat sadly. 
So rarely did you get to enjoy good looking demons. The ones who came to the “House of Kisses” were foul-smelling, long-clawed, black-eyed creatures who squealed and grunted through it. They acted more like animals humping their favorite stuffed toy. You hardly ever enjoyed a lover who took their time with you, who tasted delightful and gave you pleasure in return. It was something you'd do anything to keep. 
When Seonghwa pulled out, San turned your head to keep your mouth full. You’d initially sucked him firmly, moaning around his cock while sinking down to the base every time. Drool dropped onto your chest as you did so, not daring to break away unless he said so. But then, San held you by the hair as his brothers had done and made his own pace. 
“Suck a little softer, pet. I like it more-Oh, yes,” he sighed dreamily, melting in your mouth as you followed his instructions exactly. “Someone really is trying to avoid going back down there, hm?” he joked, head tilting back once you started slowly deep-throating him. “Don't worry, pet,” he soothed you with gentle head pats, “You're not going anywhere.”
This went on for a while: they all took various turns in your mouth, and you sucked according to how they enjoyed it. Hongjoong went rougher, shoving himself in your mouth and guiding you by the neck. Seonghwa kept it steady and breathily gave orders as if you’d never given a blowjob before. San, as you expected, liked it light and soft. You’d learned how to play to a client’s appetites in order to avoid upsetting your owners. If a customer complained enough or you’d disobeyed them somehow, you’d end up back in the winds of lust. You didn’t want to be flung around the air in dizzying circles; the harsh, cold winds freezing your skin while bits of debris or other prisoners crashed into you. It had been madness. They tortured you by making you feel relentless sensations of all kinds. You'd taken part so much in life, your death only made sense. 
You shouldn't have snorted all that blow. 
“On the bed,” Hongjoong ordered, “It’s our turn now.”
You slid further up the bed until your lower half hung off the edge. San and Seonghwa each propped a leg onto their shoulder, and kept you fully exposed to the three of them. The hunger in their eyes created a whole new arousal for you; your breath hitched when Hongjoong laid a flat, wide lick up your wet lips, ending with a hard suck to your clit. Your needy whine pleased them, and brought on more attention. San laid soft kisses and gentle nips of his teeth down your inner thighs. Your pussy throbbed in Hongjoon’s expert mouth, which caused him to chuckle against it. Seonghwa did the same, licking from knee to the apex of your thighs where he flicked your pussy tenderly. 
The pleasure boiled inside you when two fingers slipped between your folds. San rolled his thumb around your clit while Hongjoong and Seonghwa joined together to finger you. Their groans joined yours as you lost yourself in the feeling building in every stroke. 
“She has such a pretty pussy,” Seonghwa moaned, pushing his finger into the last knuckle. He and Hongjoong fingered you at different speeds, so neither one left your pussy empty and wanting. “It’s so wet and squeezing my finger nicely. I can’t imagine what it’ll feel when I’m fucking her.”
“I’ll have to be careful,” Hongjoong said, “Otherwise I’m afraid I’ll finish too quickly. It’s been way too long since I had anything good in my bed.”
“I want to feel it too,” pouted San, who took a few licks to your clit before sucking up the juices flooding it. When one of them removed his finger, San replaced it immediately. He hummed his delight at the walls squeezing both his and his brother’s fingers. “How can human pussy be better than demon pussy?” he giggled, “I don’t get it.”
“Have no idea,” Hongjoong shrugged, content watching his brothers finger you together. “I don’t really care either. We have a dumb little toy that we can build however we like.” His brothers broke away as he began kissing from the middle up to your breasts. Cupping them, he gave hard squeezes that made you wriggle in his grasp. “I can make her into whatever I want her to be.” He kissed up your neck to your ear, biting it tenderly. “You’re going to be the obedient, compliant submissive I’ve always wanted.” You moaned when his cock slid up between your folds, rubbing directly on your clit. He giggled at your hips bucking against him, and held them down. You tried moving into him, but his firm grip kept you against the bed. “The pretty bitch that fucks like she’s in constant heat,” he traced your jaw with his fingers, letting his dick settle right over your pussy but not moving. “The perfect slave. My slave.” 
“How crass,” scoffed Seonghwa, who shoved his brother off you and took his place. Unlike Hongjoong, Seonghwa gradually grinded into you. Pushing stray hairs from your face, he said, “I prefer a pretty toy over a slave,” he said, cupping your jaw and kissing you deeply. The mixture of your fluids filled your mouth when his tongue rolled around yours. His full lips worked yours open slowly, his tongue sliding over yours before beginning to roll around. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be a lovely doll that sings and plays music and reads to me. You’ll be the picture of innocence in front of others,” he pecked your lips as he kept grinding, “A virginal angel who is deflowered by me every night.” 
When he lifted you further up on the bed, as expected, San slid right between you and Seonghwa. “That’s dumb,” he said, feeling up your body to your chest. Sucking on one nipple, he allowed you to grind into him. “Everyone knows what you are,” he changed sides, and rolled his tongue around it. “I can’t marry you, but I can certainly enjoy the benefits of pretending.” He sealed his lips over yours, and you easily opened your mouth to let him explore. “A lovely wife who cooks and cleans for me…Who does whatever she can to please me…make sure I’m content and comfortable. Isn’t that what every man wants? Why can’t I want it?”
“Because you have servants who do all that already,” snorted Seonghwa from beside you. 
You turned over to see him and Hongjoong locked in a passionate embrace. Seonghwa watched both you and San through heavy lidded eyes. Hongjoong turned his head from you to kiss him passionately, both of them moaning in each other’s mouths. Something about the sight aroused you more. You gazed down to where they met to see their hands wrapped around one another. Clear droplets fell from the slits to their shafts, where each brother used it to slicken their movements. You kept watching them kiss and touch before something thick pushed inside you slowly. 
“Oh fuck…” San breathed, eyes falling shut and head going forward as he carefully filled you. 
Being stretched around him distracted you from anything else in the room. You grabbed San’s biceps, nails digging into the hard muscles as the pressure intensified. Once he became fully sheathed inside you, you swore you felt his tip bulge your belly slightly. It was a feeling you could never get enough of. Even with other customers, if they could reach that far into you, you became absolutely weak. Holding you close, he kissed you as he gently fucked into you. 
“Perfect,” he moaned against your lips, “Perfect. My little wife is taking my dick so well, and loving it so much. Here,” he took your hand to place on your belly, “Feel that? That’s me, pet. That’s me fucking you so deep you feel it here.” He kept your hand there as he took several long strokes. He grinned when he saw your eyes rolling back. “You’re loving this, huh?” he started going a bit faster, moaning as you tightened around him, “Loving my fat cock ripping you open, hm?”
“Ye-y-yes,” you whimpered, clutching his shoulders and trying to keep still for him. 
“It must be the best thing about being a demon slave,” he groaned, “Getting to have demon dick every moment of the day. Let’s see exactly how well you can take this one.”
Kneeling up, he pinned you by the waist, pulling your legs over his thighs as he quickened his pace. Balls slapping against your ass joined your combined moans. He made stars form in front of your eyes; every stroke pushed against your g-spot over and over again, turning you into a moaning mess on the bed. At some point, San began pulling you onto him and he laughed when you began doing it for him. 
“You really love it,” he teased, “Look at her.”
“She’s beautiful like this,” said Seonghwa, lazily starting to rub your clit. You noticed his open mouth letting out soft panting, and spotted Hongjoong’s head between his thighs. The red head teasingly swatted his tongue over the slit and underside of the tip, giving it a suck every few licks. “I have a suspicion our pet is a lot naughtier than we first thought. She must have been.”
“Only the filthiest humans are made sex slaves,” San noted, propping himself on his fists and curling you upwards in the process. “You must’ve…must’ve been a whore…a filthy, naughty, slutty whore…”
The degradation. The lack of acknowledgement as they fucked you added to your need for release. You’d always loved being used by your lovers; you loved giving yourself over and letting them do what they wanted. Having these three demons using you and each other was a dream come true. San’s thrusts knocked the headboard into the wall, his groans turning into feral grunts and his strokes becoming feverish. His orgasm came hard, and the hot sensation of his cum painting your walls made you join him. Your body became sensitive to Seonghwa’s hand teasing your clit even as you came; each brush and swirl had you bucking against the sensitivity. When you usually come down from the high quickly, your body starts wearing down, yet that didn’t happen this time. Not with real incubi, and not an average demon. Your orgasm ending, you only wanted more of them. 
“My turn,” said Seonghwa. 
Hongjoong left his thighs to join San’s side of the bed, the pair sharing soft kisses. He rested himself against the broad man, legs spread for you to see him completely. His cock fully erect, throbbing against his stomach, Hongjoong whimpered when San began stroking him. Both of them looked at you and Seonghwa now, an audience for what you were about to do. 
“Get on top, pretty,” Seonghwa said, bringing you on top of him. He didn’t hesitate to impale you on his dick, having the same burning effect as San. “Oh yes,” he panted, head tilting into the soft pillow. “San wasn’t lying.” 
You didn’t care when they laughed at you pathetically bouncing on him. Hands on his chest, you raised and lowered your ass onto him in an inconsistent flow. He felt just as good as San, his cock reaching up to your core far too easily. You whined when a hand sharply swatted your ass. You didn’t care whose hand it was; you only cared that the sting added to your pleasure. When he heard you squeal particularly loud, Seonghwa smacked your ass again.
“Desperate cock-whore,” Seonghwa moaned, bringing you forward to keep spanking you. “We’re going to fuck you dumb,” he growled in your ear, “You won’t even remember your own name when we’re done with you.”
The idea of that alone had you rutting against him pathetically. Seonghwa eventually let you kneel back up, and slightly away from him. Hands holding you up behind your back, this position gave all three demons a view of him inside you. Their eyes locked right on where you and Seonghwa met, and when he began pushing up into you, the other two jeered.
“Ride him, slut. Ride him the right way.”
“Don’t be shy. Take him all the way.”
“You’re really a cock-loving whore, aren’t you?” Hongjoong asked in a breath, being teased by San in gradual strokes. “Answer me, slut. Are you a cock-loving whore?”
“Ye-Ye-Yess,” you cried, feeling a second orgasm building in your lower belly.
“Say it. Say ‘Yes, Master. I’m a cock-loving whore’.”
“Yes, Ma-M-Master,” you sobbed, “I’m a cock-cock-lov-loving whore!”
“Keep saying it,” Seonghwa said, pushing his hips upwards, “Say it.”
You did as told, saying the humiliating words as Seonghwa brought you to your second orgasm. It hit you much harder, stiffening your muscles and arching your spine backwards. His deep strokes emphasized each pathetic cry; your tits and ass bounced from the force of his thrusts which delighted the three demons. Having them sitting there, laughing and calling you names sunk you deeper into your arousal. You came even harder when you felt Seonghwa’s hot cum filling you soon enough. Seonghwa’s jaw clenched and he kept his pace steady as he pumped his seed deep inside you. You wanted more. You needed more. Whatever devious pheromone the incubi released sunk into your nostrils and filled your lungs. It smelled like hard candy, roses and cinnamon, turning from scents into a cocktail drug that fueled your body. You swore you ran on their energy and various scents alone. 
“Take it all,” he grunted, grabbing your wrists and holding them in front of you, “Take all my cum.”
You would have stopped for a small break at the brothel. By a second orgasm, your body usually gives up. Yet, the brothers did not let you have a break. The power of an incubus must be stronger than you first assumed. Hongjoong grabbed you by the waist, and bent you over in front of him. Pushing your head down into the bed, he wasted no time in forcing himself inside you. Fingers scratching the smooth covers, face buried in their softness, you nearly screamed at the newest cock. Hongjoong did not reach as far as San, but he made sure you felt every hit each time. The only time he slowed down was when San came up behind him. Buried deep in you, you heard Hongjoong let out a long moan that ended in soft panting. Soon, you realized Hongjoong was sandwiched between your pussy and San’s cock. You matched San’s speed so Hongjoong felt pleasure from both ends. The strong pheromones drove you nearly wild now. You wanted him to cum in you too. Even if they couldn’t breed you, you wished they could. 
Seonghwa moved around the bed to the front of you, lifted your head and filled your mouth. You greedily sucked up the leftover cum from his dick. His soft rose  scent drew you closer to him. You loved the mix of salty and sweetness on your tongue, the remnants flowing from his tip to your throat as you swallowed. Hongjoong twitched inside you, almost creating a vibrating feeling that you’d heard incubi and succubi could do. It had you crying around Seonghwa’s dick; tears streamed from the corners of your eyes as he choked you on it. The combination of fingers rapidly rubbing your pussy, a demon cock shuddering inside you like a vibrator, and knowing San was pounding his demon brother had you trembling in their grasp. When Seonghwa gave you a moment to breathe, drool and cum fell from your lips onto the bed and your eyes remained shut in each euphoric feeling. You focused on nothing but them.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes,” Hongjoong whined, “Fuck me like that. Both of you. Fuck me just like that.”
He hunched over on top of you as he came hard. You and San did as he wished, milking his orgasm from him so he spilled inside you. You soon joined him with a body-shattering third orgasm. Your arms shook, becoming numb and weak from the weakness it brought on. All three of them having had their turn, you assumed it’d be over.
You assumed wrong.
San withdrew from Hongjoong and the latter nearly threw you on top of him. Weakly, you slipped him into your dripping hole and rode him. Hongjoong stood over San’s head, and pushed his cock in your mouth. He hadn’t even gotten soft. You heard from other slaves that incubi could go for hours if they wished. In all realness, that should concern you. Even if you’re technically dead, you could never handle such a lengthy session. Yet, surrounded by these horny incubi, you felt compelled to serve them as they wished. Your jaw burned, and your cheeks felt stiff from the abuse. You knew your throat will be hoarse and painful after tonight. This did not seem to concern any of the demons.
“Stay still for a moment,” Seonghwa said from behind you. “This will only hurt for a little bit.”
San arched your back and spread your ass cheeks apart. A cold, slippery substance fell between them to your hole, which clenched and unclenched to the thick head spreading the lube around. 
“Oh-ho,” Hongjoong laughed, “She’s going to love that.”
“What’s the point in three holes if we don’t fill each one?” he asked, pushing the tip inside you.
Your high-pitched moan remained muffled by Hongjoong, though the reaction pleased all three of them. You felt entirely full. Plugged up by each of them, having them move in near unison to keep you still in their grasp, you surrendered over to them completely. Your masters would take you however they wished, and you would not complain. Their cocks felt far too good to refuse. The best ones you’ve ever had in your previous life and in this new hellish one, you drowned yourself in it. Seonghwa grabbed both your tits to keep you in place; San rubbed your clit with his thumb while holding you by your hip; Hongjoong held you by the hair as he pumped in and out of your mouth. You stayed frozen in place as your new owners used you for their pleasure, giving you a bit of it in return.
They all laughed and jeered when you came again. Seonghwa tweaked your nipples when he heard you crying on Hongjoong’s dick; Hongjoong kept himself fully planted in your throat so your moans vibrated around his head. This orgasm made your toes curl, your nails from crescent shapes in your palms, and your muscles shake and burn from constant movement. They didn’t stop. Not for a single second. You became putty by the time they laid you back down. Seonghwa pushed himself inside your ass once more, legs on his chest as he ruthlessly pounded you. San brought your head to the edge of the bed, instantly filling your mouth while Hongjoong lapped and fingered your gushing pussy. You didn’t have much time to enjoy it before San began shuddering, and his cum filled your throat. You struggled to swallow at first, though caught onto it easily until you sucked every thick drop from him.
By the time you laid on your side between Hongjoong and Seonghwa, you lost all sense of time and place. You felt nothing but the constant flow of bliss coursing through your veins.
“What’s your name, pretty?” Seonghwa asked, the taunt in his tone.
You gave an incoherent mumble, eyes shut and body made of jelly by now.
“What was that?” Hongjoong joined in, “We can’t hear you.”
You mumbled again, head lolling as you felt San hover over you. “Come on now,” he said, teasing your clit in slow circles, “You must have a name.”
“If you don’t tell us, we’ll give you one instead,” Seonghwa panted, moving away enough to let San’s hand tease you. “Use your words, kitten.”
“”My Pet’ is a nice name in my opinion,” Hongjoong said, gripping your hip as he bottomed up into you.
“Darling is prettiest,” San said, “Much more endearing.”
“Kitten,” Seonghwa proclaimed, “Kitten is much sweeter. It suits her.”
There they named you. You are their property now, and you had no say. Eventually, the three of them finished and collapsed onto the bed together with you in the middle. The softness of the bed became particularly noticeable once you melted into it. The scent of sweat and sex filled your nose, and a distinct chill fell over your naked body. Your eyes falling shut, you relished in the gentle hands and lips on various parts of you. Their comforting touches lulled you to sleep, you barely listening to their sweet whispers. Whether they spoke to one another or to you, you weren't sure. 
You only enjoyed the sweet peace sleep gave you.
***
A/N: just a short horny fic for all of you! I might make it a series, I might not. I have a habit of making these things lol please like and reblog <3
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nachojaehyun · 2 months
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first fuck
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pairing. office co-worker! mingyu + fem! reader
summary. fucking on the first date may not be acceptable for many, but when your date was that hot and signing the cheque at the end of the night, who were you to refuse having him in your bed?
playlist. first fuck by 6LACK and Jhene Aiko
warnings. [PLEASE READ] oral (f), lowkey pussydrunk mingoo, fingering, scissoring, kissing, clit play, mingyu is pussy whipped, slight gagging, gentleman mingyu, asking for consent <3 use of nicknames (love, mostly) — 18+ MINORS DNI!
note. i got 8 asks about mingyu, so here it is. also thank you guys so much for your support on the wonwoo fic! more soon <3
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“we’ll have the cheque please,” his deep voice said, making you shuffle your thighs closer.
as he signed the paper with his expensively heavy pen, he shot you a smile, carding his fingers through his hair.
“come, i’ll drop you off at your place.”
his car reeked of a musky wood, deliciously enticing just like him.
kim mingyu, as he told you he was called, was making your head spin.
conversations with him were easy, flowing simply between tongues, even though you wished his tongue was in your mouth—
the drive back home had your heart jumping. his white dress shirt was tucked into black slacks. taut muscles peeking under the folded sleeves, a shiny gold watch nearly blinding you.
everything about kim mingyu was luxurious.
you would be lying if you said it wasn’t making you drool. “oh, it’s this gate!” you squeaked, clearing your throat after.
unbeknownst to you, mingyu smiled at your nervousness, swerving the car to enter the gated community.
your apartment was quite easy to spot. as he stopped the vehicle in front of the building, you felt your heart about to leap out of your chest as he parked on the side and ran out to hold your door for you.
“mingyu-ssi,” you spoke up after thanking him. he was leaning against his car, hands stuffed in his pockets as he intently listened to you. “yes, love?”
red creeped up your cheeks.
“would you uh…” your fingers fiddled with the strap of your Coach purse. “would you like to come inside?”
“i thought you’d never ask.”
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inside your humble home, you opted to brewing some coffee for you and your date. mingyu waltzed back and forth, analysing every detail of your apartment.
the cutesy decorations, the books laying around the house, the towels and clothes hanging to dry in the balcony— mingyu felt like he was learning every detail about you.
and it felt so right.
when his co-worker had asked him if he was interested in going on a date, mingyu had initially wanted to refuse. he had no luck with women for his entire life, despite being raised by a hardworking mother and two sisters.
however, when your name was mentioned, he couldn’t help but immediately agree to the meet up.
you were his favorite thing to watch in the office when he was bored. his favorite workplace muse. his favorite person to look at when he was stressed. his favorite picture to eye as his hands gripped around his c—
“mingyu-ssi?” your pretty voice beckoned. “yes, love?” his attention returned to you. “the c-coffee…”
the nickname rolled off his tongue like he was born to call you that. god, you were so pretty.
“ah,” he hurried over to the kitchen counter, smiling.
the dark roast made his lips tingle as he gulped it down. the coffee tasted amazing. he listened to you talking as his thumb traced the raised pattern on his mug.
“and then he said ‘it’s your fault for not buying more ink for the printer.’ can you believe him?”
your chuckle made his lips curl up. “he’s an idiot.”
“yeah,” you trailed off, resting your empty cup on the counter as you stared at the ground, fiddling with the ends of your red dress.
when mingyu called out your name, your breath hitched in your throat.
his mug was long forgotten on the marble countertop, as kim mingyu inched closer to your body. his knee touched yours, and it sent little sparks of electricity up your spine.
“can i… can i kiss you?”
you nodded slowly, watching his mouth split into a smile. within moments, you felt his lips on yours, softly engulfing your mouth.
his lips were pillowy as you grabbed onto his collar, pulling him impossibly close. with one soft bite onto your bottom lip, you gasped. your open mouth invited his tongue as he licked the inside of your mouth, groaning when your fingers bunched up his shirt.
he pulled away after a second, panting through his mouth as a string of salvia connected your mouths. “fuck,” you whimpered, glassy orbs melting into his dazed ones.
“bedroom?” mingyu smirked, grabbing your waist as he pulled you up from your seat. “straight down the hall, second door to your left.”
your knees were shaky as you stood up. chuckling at your state, mingyu pulled you close, tapping your ass as a signal. accepting the offer, you jumped into his arms.
your hands were slung around his neck as he carried you to the bedroom. however, your mouth was relentless, placing small kisses all over his neck as you unbuttoned his crisp shirt.
his scent was making you dizzy as you inhaled, licking up the sweat that gathered on his skin.
“shi- feisty aren’t ya?”
you were laid down on the comfort of your bed, back hitting the soft mattress as he laid you down.
kim mingyu stood between your legs, towering over your figure in his casual outfit. he looked absolutely delicious.
you made grabby hands at him, pouting at the distance that had manifested. with a chuckle, mingyu all but pounced on you.
his lips found purchase on your skin, teething it like a madman. your fingers clutched onto his strands, whimpering softly when he licked over the material of your dress.
“as much as i love this on you,” he started, licking his lips. “i think i would love it on the floor even more.”
you could only stupidly grin as you yanked the material over your head. the simple black underwear you wore had mingyu going feral.
how could someone be this fucking beautiful?
while he was analyzing your body like it was a work of art, you tugged at his shirt, giggling. “you want this off baby?” he smiled. when you nodded, he nearly ripped the expensive fabric in two, before leaning down and hovering over your body.
his lips trailed your stomach, leaving a trail of spit in their wake. when he reached the hem of your panties, he looked up at you.
despite the fire burning in his irises, he smiles at you. “may i?”
with a shy nod, you allow him to continue. he mentally thanked you. mingyu thinks he would have jumped from the balcony in your room if you would have denied.
you lift your legs as he pulled your underwear down, groaning into your thighs when he caught a glimpse of your pussy.
“perfect, so fucking perfect.”
he discards the ruined cloth on the floor, grabbing your thighs as he parted them. face to face with your cunt, mingyu feels his consciousness falling into the chasms of insanity.
he places a kiss on your inner thigh, before leaning his head on your skin. his hair tickles you as one of his hands come up from under your thighs.
“wow,” he gasps to himself, tracing your wet folds with his fingers. the contact has you moaning out loud, too desperate to feel any friction.
the pads of his fingers glide over your cunt, messily collecting the moisture. you think mingyu purposefully ignores your clit.
but the man was transfixed by your pussy, eyes drowning in wonder as he picked up his pace. “this is okay right?” he questioned, looking up.
he sees your face contorted in pleasure as you nod. “more than okay, minyu-ssi!”
“hmm?” he teases, slowly using his middle and ring finger to push inside your walls. “how about this?”
“f— hah! mingyu-!”
“answer me,” he demands.
“yes! so good!”
using his fingers, mingyu scissored your walls open, mesmerized by the squelching noises that came from within. your arousal dripped out of your hole in copious drops, and mingyu couldn’t help but lean forward, catching it on his tongue.
“fuck…” you groaned, clutching your new bedsheets.
“love… you taste so good,” his eyes roll back. mingyu wraps his mouth around your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth as his fingers fastened inside you.
your gummy walls squeezed his nimble digits for all their worth as his tongue laved over your puffy clit.
spit and arousal formed a puddle underneath you, as mingyu pushed his face further into your pussy.
his fingers had reached a heavenly pace, toying with your folds and curling into that one spot that had your toes quivering.
“you close, hmm? can tell by the way you’re shaking,” mingyu chuckled. his laugh sent vibrations all the way up to your lower back, making you shiver in pleasure.
“alright then love, cum on my tongue. make a mess with this cute pussy of yours.”
“s— shit!”
with a loud moan of his name, the knot in your stomach came undone. your orgasm crashed on mingyu’s tongue as the man between your legs slurped up every drop you gave him.
the aftershocks of that intense pleasure had you feeling incoherent, mind numb as you looked at him with blurry eyes.
tears coated your lashes. no one had ever made you cum so quickly. hell, no one had ever made you cum like that.
“no no, stay with me baby,” mingyu tutted as he got up from his knees, unbuckling his slacks at your already fucked out expression.
“i have so much to do you, we’re just getting started hmm?” he smiled, pushing his boxers down.
you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes. “i think… i love you,” you giggled out, biting your lower lip.
“yeah?” mingyu’s thumb grazed your chin, before slowly slipping past your lips as he forced himself into your mouth.
his thumb pressed down on the back of your tongue, making you choke loudly as you batted your lashes at him.
“i think you’ll love me more after this first fuck.”
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© nachojaehyun, 2024
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dante-mightdie · 1 month
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Building off prev anons post:
viking! Price who finds another wife but immediately regrets it when he notices you gone one day, having fled from him, running off to god knows where
bonus points if reader ends up in someone elses arms and viking price finds out, becoming ENRAGED
so I started this. and realised I didn’t like the way I wrote it. but didn’t wanna delete it all because that’s long so here. it’s not my best so have mercy
he had told you he was only going to be gone for a week. and in his defense, he was but he certainly didn’t tell you he was going to be coming back with a new bride perched on the back of his stallion. her hands wrapped around his burly midriff, a pretty white dress flowing down her feet. similar to the one you wore when you were gifted to him
you didn’t hang around to greet him which didn’t go missed by the elder women of the clan, shushed whispers making their away around about your disdain towards the new wife. he found you eventually, casually introducing you to her as if he hadn’t married another woman in his absence
you gave her a curt hello before walking off, ignoring her when she attempted to open her mouth to speak to you. it wasn’t her that you were mad at, no it was him. she was just collateral damage. like you, she probably didn’t get much of a say in the marriage
that doesn’t mean you have to like her. especially when she makes you feel so inferior. the clan are much more welcoming to her than they ever were to you. the children instantly run to her, giving her flowers every time they see her and asking her to play with them
and john. he seemed positively smitten with her, he barely gives you so much as a smile and yet she he brings her all the jewels and gold that he pillaged from other clans when he returns home. how fucking dare he? he takes you from your home, your family and everything you know to be his wife and then he replaces you?
it wasn’t like you were in love, but at least he was yours. not anymore apparently. you were just grateful that he didn’t expect you to be intimate with the pair of them. you’d pitch a fit if he asked you to do that
it becomes too much one night at a feast. both of you sat either side of him but he seems to be prioritising her. making sure she gets served first, that he wine gets filled before yours. and on top of that, you can hear the hushed gossip being whispered not that far from you
“I heard it’s because she hasn’t conceived yet. the chief probably doesn’t want to waste anymore time with her.”
“perhaps he just doesn’t want to settle for just her. the gods know a man like him could have as many women as he wants.”
“she should count her days.”
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beansprean · 9 months
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He might not actually know this is an option.
(final face is as always inspired by mlekonya's comic)
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1a. Knees up of Nadja, hair half up in cat ear buns with purple streaks, wearing a poofy purple off-the-shoulder dress with mutton sleeves and a darker purple leaf pattern, and Nandor, wearing a brown damask patterned belted tunic with gold fastenings and cuffs, on a mottled green background. Nadja is grinning smugly, right hand on her hip and the other pressing haughty fingertips to her breast to gesture to herself. She says, "Well, Laszlo is my best friend, too!" Nandor squints at her in confusion, brow furrowed and hands fiddling together at his waistline. He replies, "Huh? But... he is your husband..." 1b. Repeat. Nadja cocks her hip to the other side, left hand turning palm up to gesture in a kind of shrug. She frowns at Nandor, one brow raised, and replies, "Yeah? I wanted to hang out with him and fuck him forever, so I married him." Nandor continues to squint at her, brows raised and jaw slack. His speech bubble is just ellipses. 1c. Repeat. Nadja cringes, slightly concerned, and places her left hand on Nandor's shoulder, holding her right out flatly as if ready to calm a spooked horse. She says, "You are supposed to marry someone because you like them... You know that, right? ...Nandor?" Nandor is frozen, gaze moved to the middle distance, brow furrowing again as his face grays with realization
2a. Bust of Nadja on a white background, holding up a finger informatively as she says, "You can marry your best friend." 2b. Reverse shot of Nandor on a dramatic starburst background, mouth and eyes gone comically huge in shock, floating completely off his face, hair sticking out in surprised spikes. Apparently this is news to him./end ID
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chosopie · 4 months
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PART 2, CONQUERER - RYOMEN SUKUNA
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RECAP: After Sukuna invades your nation and kills the man you were betrothed to, he decides to take you as his queen. You comply to his requests to keep your little brother Yuji safe.
SUMMARY: You had just been wedded to Sukuna, and now it was time for your mating ceremony.
cw: battle for dominance, oral sex (f receiving), doggy, hair pulling, riding, slight choking, breeding, reader is inspired by helen of troy
: ̗̀➛ part 1
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The ballroom in the heart of your palace remained lively with people dancing, singing, and eating heartily. Lots of women would wear outrageously flashy or expensive dresses that would, in their hopes, catch the new King’s eyes. They did not know Sukuna, for he would not even bat an eye at those kind of women. He has come so far to defeat every neighboring nation just to get to yours. He brought death and destruction with his footsteps, and let war sit on the right side of his shoulder just so he could have you in his hands, the woman kings and noblemen from every nation sought after. Your beauty was like no other in the world—so captivating that men would wage wars against each other to have your delicate hand. Your previous fiancé did just that, and quickly failed when Sukuna came lurking behind his careless back.
Tonight, you had just hosted the largest banquet anyone has ever seen. Such a lavish event is fitting for the union of the most beautiful woman in the world and the greatest conquerer man has ever seen. Sukuna patiently waited for you in his quarters, his muscular and broad body covered in a black silk robe with gold embroidery. On the other hand, your handmaidens were bathing you in soaps and fragrances that were made with the finest and rarest materials people can only dream of getting their hands on, yet here they were, being used to bathe your soft body. The girls patted you dry with a big and fluffy towel, then helped you slip onto your sheer nude lingerie that had diamonds around your chest, making your skin glisten in the warm lights. On top of that, you draped a large white silky robe over your body, the cool fabric sending a shiver down your spine.
You passed through the thin curtains and Sukuna was sat on the bed, waiting for you. He looked up, eyes immediately locked on your figure that was barely covered by your garments. He couldn’t help but envision your fully naked body, but he quickly shook those thoughts away upon realization that in a few seconds, he would be able to feast on your bare body. It would be all his.
“Come, woman,” Sukuna gestured you to move closer to him with his pointer finger.
You scoffed. “I have a name. Did you not know?”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re going to forget your name after tonight,” he smirked.
“I’d like to see you try,” you slid off your robe, exposing your body that was barely covered by the lingerie. Sukuna’s eye’s wandered on your chest and down to your plump hips and thighs. You walked towards him, his eyes remained fix on your body as he watched each and every movement you made.
Sukuna looked up at you, his hands stroking your sides and tracing every curve. His touch was warm and it made you burn with excitement. This man was capable of making you feel so much. You could fear him, and at the same time lust over the fact that he could destroy anything within an arm’s length. The power in his hands made you tremble with arousal.
It made you wonder whether you were doing all this just to protect whatever remained of your nation and your baby brother or if you were just as power-hungry as the greedy conquerer beneath you.
You pushed his hands away and slowly took off your lingerie while holding eye contact with him. There was an intense warmth that radiated off his body. You lifted up your arms to cup his face and push it towards the heat of your pussy. To your surprise, he didn’t protest. Instead, he put his hands on your hips for support while he buried his face into your cunt, his hot tongue lapping at your wet folds. You legs shivered and the pacing of your breath quickened.
“Sukuna,” you moaned, and he suddenly stopped. He moved back, but his face remained close to your wetness.
“Call me Ryomen,” he lowly said, before resuming his work.
His mouth was skilled in its work. He repeatedly licked and would occasionally bite on your clit, sending a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. It felt like electricity, the way the heat and arousal would travel up to your body with sparks. While he sucked hardly on your clit, he covered his fingers in your slick, then pushed them inside you. You gasped, your fingers tangled in his locks of hair. You moaned and writhed, pushing his head closer to you. At this point, your thighs were suffocating Ryomen, preventing him from breathing, but he didn’t care; his mind was solely focused on making you cum.
“Ryo,” you tried saying, the word smoothly rolling off your tongue. “I’m close.”
Ryomen felt his blood rushing. Most people who dared to speak of his first name would often say it with such fear for their lives, but the way your voice spoke his name made it sound so sweet like nectar was dripping from the tip of your tongue. He groaned against your pussy, the vibration making you hiss. His fingers kept thrusting and curling inside of you in such a fast pace that caught your breath. The pads of his fingers were rubbing your sweet spot while his tongue continued to play with your throbbing clit. The pleasure started to build up and you could feel it on your lower abdomen. You let out a moan before releasing yourself, your fluids coating his fingers and chin.
Your husband stood up and took his robe off, revealing his toned chest, abdomen, the big scar that ran in a straight line from his chest to stomach, and his lengthy cock. He grabbed your hand and placed it right on the scar, letting you trace it with your fingers along with the intricate muscles on his abdomen.
“See what you did? No one has ever been able to get this close to me.” He whispered.
“I know,” you smirked.
“Don’t get too cocky now, girl.” Ryomen warned.
“Me? Cocky?” He grabbed both of your arms and pushed you onto the bed. He held your arms behind your back, firmly holding them in place.
“Fuck you,” you muttered, but Ryomen didn’t hear because your face was pressed onto the sheets of your bed, muffling your voice.
“Arch your back for me,” he said into your ear, his chest pressed against your back.
Your face grew hot. Complying with his request, you arched you back and pushed yourself onto him, the wet head of his cock tapping your ass. Ryomen groaned at the sensation and slapped your ass. It didn’t hurt much, but it stung in a way that only got you more horny. He parted your legs and rubbed his dick on your folds, lubing it with your juices.
He was way too big.
This was going to be your first time and you weren’t sure if you could even take him. With his length and girth, it might end up hurting you. You propped yourself up and turned to look at him from the corner of your eye.
“It’s my first time,” you panted.
“Good,” Ryomen smiled. “Be honored. You’re my first as well. I’ll make sure you can handle it.”
That was the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile. “That’s a surprise.”
“It is the culture of my homeland.”
Ryomen tightly held onto the soft flesh your hips, slowly pushing his dick in you. He starts thrusting with only half of his dick inside, but you already felt so full. His cock is so gritty is rubs every spot in your walls. Your pussy tightly clamps onto him, making his breath quiver. “You’re so tight,” he breathed.
It takes everything in Ryomen to not just thrust into you at full speed. He had to be careful with you, but every instinct in him is telling him otherwise. The sound of your pussy squelching on his length and the way both your fluids were dripping down your labia was driving him crazy. His mind was in a frenzy and his hands grew hot as he continued to feel up your ass.
“Too much,” you whined. “You’re too big.”
“If that was the case, why is your tight greedy pussy pulling me in,” Ryomen lightly chucked as he watched your pussy swallow his dick. The whole of him now buried deep inside you, making a small bulge on your stomach. His hand reached for your hair and tugged on it so you could face him. “Look how well your pussy is taking me.”
Your eyes were watery, not a single thought present behind them. Your mind was trapped in a haze of lust. All you could feel was the big surge of pleasure that came with each thrust. Beads of sweat dripped from your forehead and your back.
“Faster, Ryomen.” You dared to say.
“Finally. You can’t take that back anymore, alright?”
With no hesitation, Ryomen started thrusting into you hard and fast, causing your body to rock back and forth, your tits bouncing with you. He cupped your breasts, squeezing and kneading on them like dough. You could feel his dick twitching, eager to release its seed and paint the walls of your cunt white. He started panting and groaning, the pace of his thrusts getting sloppy and desperate. You could feel another orgasm following through, the tight feeling making your pussy spasm around his cock. A string of moans left your mouth as you allowed yourself to cum all over his dick, your insides tightening then letting go, milking his dick as he came with you. He looked at your shaking figure that glistened with sweat under the lights of the room. He groaned your name and laid his head on your shoulder, inhaling your intoxicating scent.
The two of you stared at each other with lust-struck eyes. He was sweating and panting, his cheeks lightly tinted red. With his right hand, he grabbed your neck and pulled you towards him for a messy and passionate kiss. Your tongues danced with each other, eagerly fighting for dominance while the mixture of your spit dribbled down your chin. He lightly squeezed your neck and you moaned into the kiss. You placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled him on to the bed. Your hands remained on his shoulders as you got into a comfortable position to straddle him. He cocked an eyebrow at you, amusement painted his face as he watched with intent.
Lowering yourself on Ryomen, you felt his cock slowly stretch you out again, easily sliding in because of how his cum had filled your walls. You repeatedly bounced on his dick, the tip hitting your sweet spot more effectively. Both your moans filled the room’s quiet atmosphere. Your grip on his shoulders tightened as the warm and hot sensation took over your body once more, your nails digging into his skin, surely leaving marks. There it was again, his cocky smile showing on his face at the sight of you using his dick to get off. It was pathetic to see you try and dominate him in this position, but you just looked like a desperate bitch in heat. He would have never expected you to be so needy for him, after you had put so much effort to convince him with your little facade that you were so angry that he had forcefully taken you as his wife. Deep down, he knew that you had been waiting for this.
Quickly enough, your legs grew tired, but you didn’t want to stop—you were getting close again and you didn’t want to lose the momentum. He notices the way your chest heaved and how your legs trembled from exhaustion. He wraps his arms around your waist, and pushed your body onto his dick, then lifted you up again. This went on, and he was doing all the work again, moving your body up and down with ease while he thrusted into you in sync.
“What a pathetic attempt,” Ryomen laughed. You opened your mouth to say a remark, but the only thing that you could muster up were more moans.
“Did I fuck the brains out of you already? Tell me who you are.”
All you could muster up was a pathetic whine. He was right and you hated it. How could someone inexperienced make you instantly forget your own name with his cock?
“See,” Ryomen triumphantly smiled, baring his teeth. “I fucking told you.”
: ̗̀➛ part 3
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jj-one · 3 months
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HOW JUNGKOOK WOULD TREAT HIS BIMBO GF 🍥
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pairing: established relationship, bf!Jungkook x bimbo!fem!reader genre/tags: smut, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, breeding kink, piv, unprotected sex, an*l, oral (m receiving), t*tty f*cking, drooling, use of the word daddy (only once)
**old repost from my deleted blog (05/24/23)
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- Having a drop dead gorgeous girlfriend was a given for Jungkook, he loved the fact that y’all were both smoking hot and turn heads everywhere you go
- The stark contrast between your appearances drove him insane
- His aesthetic was more dark and mystique, is also heavily tattooed while you always wore pink and pastels, having bare skin
- Is so enamored with the idea of you being the total opposite of him, he always feels like he’s corrupting your sweet innocence
- Kinda treats you like you’re his eye candy anywhere he goes, has you wrapped up on his arm like it’s a leash
- He’s been debating getting an actual leash for you since you constantly trip and fall whenever you’re out with him
- You were just so ditzy and clumsy… it was your character flaw yet Jungkook saw it as an endearing quality
- Also loved that you were an airhead, clingy, and always wanting his attention ;( makes the joy of him coming home to you all the more thrilling <33
- Always buying you pink and girly thingsss
- Whenever he sees something hello kitty or barbie related he instantly thinks of you and buys it
- CONSTANTLY wants to spoil you, omg this man would spend every dime he could on you just to make you happy
- He looooves taking you out shopping because that’s your favorite activity !!
- He splurged on you the other day, buying you any color of that Dior lip oil that you were obsessed with, it was worth it since he’d be the one taking it off your lips afterwards
- Jungkook enjoys watching you try on skimpy outfits for him, the shorter the skirt the better— don’t get him started on the way your hardened nipples peek out the fabric of your shirts…
- Likes to play dress up with you like you’re his personal doll
- He’ll put you in a pink lace slip dress one night and the next he’ll have you wear white see-through lingerie for him; that is only when you two are in private of course
- Frequently teaches you new things so you keep up to date with current news and other events, he knows you aren’t the brightest but you have a heart of gold and do your best to comprehend everything he tells you !
- When watching movies you often pause to ask questions about the film because you don’t get it
- Jungkook made you watch ‘Inception’ with him one time and it absolutely rotted your brain
- He enjoys explaining the movie to you in a babying way, dumbing it down for you to understand it as your mind is blown away by all the knowledge he drops on you
- Laughs at your inability to comprehend the plot and pats your head while teasing you
- “Awww, you poor little thing…can’t even understand the simple concept of a movie.”
- It really really really turns him on when you wear high heels, the higher the heels the higher the tent in his pants grew
- You wore the sexiest 6-inch stripper heels for him and he fucked you out completely while you had them on, he thinks he might have a heel fetish or something
- Absolutely adores your bright & bubbly personality !! Will praise you any time he hears you say something smart
- “Did you know that Sloths can hold their breath longer than Dolphins???” You would ask him randomly.
- “No I didn’t, but thanks for the fun fact babe. You sound so cute when you talk about things you’ve discovered.”
- “It was on the back of my Snapple cap, how cool is that?! See look!!”
- He will never not be impressed by your lack of awareness, you lived in your own little bubble and he wanted to shield you from all harm and scary things
- Is sooo completely obsessed with your body
- Your bouncy tits, your curvaceous hips, and your cute plump butt was the perfect sight to send the blood rushing to his cock
- Loves. To. Fuck. You. So. Dumb.
- Uses your hole like it’s a fleshlight and loves cumming inside you repeatedly
- Dumping all his cum into your little bimbo cunt was the only thing he needed in his life
- Often catches you drooling at him, when you do this he scoops it up with his finger and puts it back in your mouth
- His favorite part of sex with you is seeing your fucked out face
- The stare you give him while you deepthroat his cock was enough to make him combust
- “Look so pretty with my cock stuffed in your mouth, such a pretty little slut for me..”
- The way he would degrade you but praise you in the same breath confused you in many ways yet you enjoyed every minute of it
- Your makeup would be all smeared, mascara would be runny, the Dior lip gloss he bought you fully transferred to his cock now
- Can never choose between if he likes doggystyle or cowgirl more since both positions he gets to look at your assets with a nice view
- Lots of titty fucking, loves having your big round tits around his cock, making a mess all over your chest once you milk him clean
- He owns all your holes, he likes to use your tight little ass from time to time
- After lubing it up nice and gently, he would go to town on your ass just pounding into your fuck hole viciously
- “What a fucking whore you are, gonna keep fucking your tiny hole until I pump every last bit of my seed in you.”
- Turns him on so fucking much when you start babbling and unable to speak proper sentences
- You’d whimper and hiccup with frustration from the way his cock made you feel
- His love language will always be making you feel so low. So small compared to him that you don’t even feel worthy of his presence at times
- “Can’t stop drooling all over yourself? Already too dumb and fucked out to continue, hmm?? Oh never mind, you’re already dumb…just shut up and take daddy’s cock like the good little slut you are, you were made for taking cock anyway.”
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lingeriae · 10 months
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PUSSY TALK! FT AOT MEN
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STARRING - CONNIE, ONY, ARMIN, EREN
SYNOPSIS - just aot men, and times they wanna eat you
WARNINGS - very suggestive (duh), boys being downbad, cursing, gramar errors, reader is black and female.
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CONNIE
peering over the edge of your phone screen to see a very tired looking connie, his shoulder sagging as he makes his way towards you slowly. you allow him to push your legs apart and slot himself between them, landing on your tummy and rubbing his face agains the material of your (his) shirt. naturally your hands come to scratch his head, which is freed from his usual beanie, smiling at the soft hum he lets out because of the action.
"hi papa." you say with a soft voice, continuing to scratch his head while you scroll through your tumblr feed. he shifts momentarily the pressure on your stomach gone as he gets up but before you can question him you stiffen, the feeling of lips pressed against your cunt has your phone almost landing in your face as you sit up on your elbow to look down at connie. He presses his lips against it once more before pulling away with an exagerated 'mwah' which has your body heating up, and your thighs closing as you look at him with wide eyes.
connie licks his lips, leaning towards you and caging you into his forearms, his nose brushes against yours as he leans in to peck your lips. "you so nasty." you whisper, scrunching up your nose at him playfully.
he gives you a panty-dropping smile, dimples showing and all. "she looked like she wanted a kiss though." rolling your eyes, your arms move to wrap around his neck pulling him towards you so that you can kiss him. moaning into the kiss connie leans back, lifting up your legs which makes you fall back with a squeak, he licks his lips again when his honey coloured eyes drifts down to your pussy and back to your eyes.
"m' so hungry, mama. lemme eat your pussy, please?"
ONY
you can feel his eyes on you as you talk to your homegirls, drilling into the side of your head and making you feel warm all over. yall only fucked once, and it's like this undeniable tension between the both you since then. shifting on your feet you turn your head to look at him, rubbing your glossed lips together because of how good he looked.
white dress shirt tucked into his slacks with a few of the top bottons opened, his gold chain flashing brightly and matching the grills on the bottom row of his teeth that looked so good with his jaw-dropping smile. he was so shameless, not even attempting to hide the fact that he was staring at you, not giving the person infront of him a glance as he talked to them, no, he would rather have his eyes on stuck on you.
clearing your throat you turned back towards your friends who all had raised eye-brows and a amused look on their face. "girl please do not tell me yall about to fuck at this wedding." one of them said, laughing loudly as you bit your lips with a smile and played with the wine glass in your hand. you shook your head as you brought the glass to your lips, "bye, it's not even like that."
the table suddenly went quiet, and everyone looked over your shoulder with shocked looks on their face they started giggling which caused your face to scrunch up in confusion. "what's funny?"
they shook their heads looking at each other as they sipped on their wine, one of them waving behind you with a smirk. "hey ony." your back straightened as you felt his warmth surround you his chest pressed against your back causing your homegirls to look at you with wide eyes and smiles, you tried to feign ignorance continuing to drink your wine with a blank face.
"hey, girls."you could hear the smile in his voice, and by the way your friends were reacting you knew he was. he leaned down so that his mouth was beside your ear his chain brushing against your bare back causing a shiver to run down your spine. his next words not helping your case either.
"tell your lil friends buh-bye so I can eat your pussy, and stop playing with me."
ARMIN
armin was fidgety. spacing out way too oftenwhen eren or anyone else was asking him questions. everyone was over your house for some party, and you decided to dress to impress. weain a cute little dress that fitted your figure perfectly, not to mention the colour compliemented your sun-kissed skin very well.
his eyes were constantly scanning over the room, looking for you watching the way your glossed plump lips widened as you laughed at something sasha said. feelings eyes on your, you looked over at your boyfriend smile widening when you see his gaze already on you.
you excuse yourself and walk over to him, sitting on his lap a warmth fluttering through you when you feeling his hands immediately find their way to your waist. a strand of blonde hair is twirled around your finger repeatedly as you look down at him, cheeks flushed with a pretty blush and ocean blue eyes glossed over, his pretty pink lips pushed out almost in a pout-like manner. "hi blonde."
he kisses his teeth at your nickname, squeezing your waist as he leans up to kiss your lips only for you to press a finger to his lips. shaking your head with a smug look on your face, armin's eyebrow raising as he looked at you. "nope. spent way too long putting this make-up on, your not about to ruin it."
it's cute, the way you think he needs permission to kiss you. the way you think he ould actually care to listen to your words.
armin leans back, pushing up his hips to the 'fix them' which pulls a gasp from your lips. his lips curl up, head tilting as he looks you up and down with a glint in his eyes. "so I can't eat your pussy?"
your eyes widen at his words, slapping his chest which causes him to snort, looking at you through his lashes with amusement. "why are you so vulgar?" you hiss out moving to get up off his lap only for him to hold you down, you rub your lips together staring at him, feeling your pussy pulse at the way he looks at you.
"m not being vulgar. one way or another im gonna eat that pretty pussy, even if it 'ruins' your make-up."
your make-up was ruined btw!
EREN
coming up behind you eren delivers a slap to yout ass, squeezing the flesh and snickering at the way you cuss him out under your breath. it becomes silent as he takes in your attire, your bottom attire to be specific, his hand linger on your ass while the other comes up to rub your waist.
"this new?" he pinches the material of your tights between his finger, eyes glued to your ass and how nice it looked in the material. you hum, not paying him much attention as you wash the plates.
"yeah, you like it? got it offa temu for - eren!" the water splashes as you jump, erens hand cupping your pussy pressing as his face holds a smug look.
"yeah, makes your pussy look fat. your ass too." his voice is raspy, he applies pressure unto your cunt with one of his finger, smirking at the moan you let out. a mouth is on your neck and you unintentionally lean back as eren fingers you through the material of your new tights, you'd be sure to cuss him out later for ruin it but for now you feel too good to say anything.
his chest vibrate as he hums, burrying his head in your shoulder. "you smell good." whimpering at his words, the pace of his finger sped up and your back arched into him pawing at his wrist as you felt yourself getting close.
eren suddenly removed his finger, spinning you around, teal eyes almost seeming dark as he looked down at you, his fingers squeeze at your waist as he swallows.
"lemme eat you out, pretty please?"
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hoseoksluna · 4 months
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WINE | jjk
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pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader
genre: smut
word count: 4.7k
summary: both of you have a party to go to, but jungkook makes you needy again.
playlist: it's jeon time / pinterest board: wine
warnings: forced drinking, neck kissing, dom/sub dynamics, use of pet names and one particular title <3, degradation and praise, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), sensual dancing, dirty talk, spanking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, squirting, rough sex, plushie used during intercourse, hair pulling, jungkook needing to be in control, the importance of dom/sub role-play being just a role-play and not extending past the sex practice, aftercare
note: this was meant to be a fluff fic with jimin but then jungkook x calvin klein happened and i was fucked. my libido was awakened by that man, my ovulation triggered by his seductiveness and fucking godly beauty. this might be tmi, but i genuinely felt turned on while writing this, so i hope you enjoy. my bestie who always reads my work first said that my jungkook fics are vastly different from the ones with other members, and i agree. the sole reason behind it is the simple fact that jungkook owns my sexuality. so, yeah. please, show some love in the comments. happy reading!!
side note: HAPPY BDAY HOBI ᡣ𐭩
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“A bit tipsy, aren’t we?”
You’re twirling. Twirling in golden circles as the late afternoon sunset traces the curves of your figure with its fingers, giving willingly a brisk dose of vigor to the movement as your delicately tousled curls spin around you. The warm light hits the shimmer on the highest points of your cheeks—coalesces with the glitter and you smile at the sun, fluttering your eyes shut. The ardent giggle spilling out of the mouth of your close friend is the music you dance to, and it helps your smile to grow in width.
You have somewhere to be. Both of you do. But you deem this is more important—it is your pregame after all, even though the wine glass in your hand is empty. Small drops of the white nectar make traces on the parquet floor, leaving behind the evidence of your joy, light as a feather somewhere within you. 
Freshly showered, Jungkook watches the show you put on for him. With one shoulder, he leans against the large wardrobe and rolls his sleeves upwards on his forearms, wrists adorned with golden bracelets that tinkle with each effort. He does it slowly, blindly. Prefers to focus on you, and not on the task he’s done too many times. You face him, aware of his warm gaze, and you lean your glass towards his chest, tilting your head to the side. 
“Barely,” you say. “Had one glass. Have another one with me?”
Jungkook smiles fondly, dropping his eyes to his wrists as he fixes the stacking of the thick gold. The cherry wood accentuates his countenance in a way that magnetically pulls you closer to him. Your legs act on their own, feet making their way to his. Something about the way they are shod in shiny dress shoes and yours are bare, toenails painted in cotton candy pink, drives a certain scarlet hue to go mad upon your dew-kissed face. Or maybe it’s the fact you two fucked hardly an hour ago that does it. You’ve always liked the scene, in which you’re naked and he’s fully dressed. Or it’s your ever persistent daddy issues and your obsession with Lolita. Maybe it’s a mixture of both.
You notice a ring on his pinky finger as he sweeps his ebony hair back. It wasn’t there when he had those digits wrapped around your throat in missionary. You take his inked hand to get a closer look, noticing the engraving of his last name. His father must have the same one. You caress it with your thumb. Its yellow gleam seeps into your skin—illuminates you and envelops you in its aura, fixing a heavenly halo above your head. You find yourself smiling when you look up at him and find that he’s been gazing down at you the whole time, his very own angel.
“If I were to have a glass of wine with you,” he mutters, and the mischievous twinkle that appears in his eyes excites you in a way that angels shouldn’t be provoked. “Then, there would be no party to go to.”
You know what he means, but you play dumb. You want to hear him say it.
“How so?” you ask and you widen your eyes softly to appear more alluring. You’re not sure if your body would handle another round, but you do enjoy the teasing—you enjoy the talk, the chase, the fuzzy feelings in your tummy.
Jungkook straightens and reaches for the bottle on the coffee table four steps away from you. Sinks the body of the glass onto his palm, pouring a good amount of the liquid inside. Nibbles his bottom lip as he stalks towards you, handing you the nectar, although he doesn’t let go. Your fingers wrap around his and it’s him who does the first move—lifting his arm to tilt the glass to your mouth. He’s gentle, a safe distance away to watch his whimsy unfold, but firm. He doesn’t lower his hand until the spillage of the gilded liquid trickles down your throat. Only then does he chuckle, setting the glass down. Satisfied.
Dizziness stirs your mind and you hardly have time to take a breather before Jungkook latches his mouth onto your wine-stained neck, tongue coming out to play—cleaning you up in figure eights that cause you to roll your eyes back. The ends of your curls tickle the back of his hand as he brushes his fingers along the dip of your spine, the skin bare in the open back of your knitted dress—made perfect for his sly touches.
He doesn’t press you against his body when he begins to suck on your neck; he still keeps the distance. Perhaps to make you needy, perhaps to make you ask for more. And it’s working, the magnetic pull does its thing once more and you roll your chest against his, aching to fit in the spaces of his figure that you know full well are there for you to hide in. Your nipples perk up at the slight attention, and electrifying sparks glide down the perimeters of your form in a way that you wish his hands would.
Absentmindedly, you touch them and Jungkook notices as he switches to the other side of your neck, the more sensitive one, the one that always leaves you dripping with your essence. You let him know, vocally, how much you like him there, and the sounds of pleasure you utter into his ear force him to pull out his phone from his pocket, steal your hand from your breast and place it in your palm.
He withdraws with a pop, plump lips coming to trace the shell of your ear. “I think we need some music,” he whispers, fingers skimming the curve of your ass. “Can you play some? Can you do that for me?”
Oh, that degradation kink of his. He knows he flung you out of his world into a pretty pink planet somewhere out there in the universe with that skilled tongue of his. He knows how dumb you get when horniness flushes your body with heat—he knows it intimately, for he’s the one who fucks you, the one you give yourself to when you blossom with the need to do so. He’s the one who opens the petals one by one, never to tear them, but to smell them, kiss them, hover them over the tender skin of his face just to be close to you. He knows you and he knows how to play with you just how you like it.
And you like to get into this state of mind. You like to be degraded, even though you’ll never admit it. You particularly like to get degraded by Jungkook.
Because of that reason, he likes to awaken it in you, beckon it to come out. How he found out is beyond your understanding. You reckon he sensed it while having your orgasms in his control. Somewhere in that dynamic, he found a little nook of a library and its contents fell into his grasp when he sank his fingers inside of you. All he had to do was read. And, also, listen.
Your bodily and vocal reactions didn’t protest.
You can’t even see his lockscreen, the numbers as you type in his mother’s birthday because Jungkook begins to toy with your earlobe, nibbling at the flesh ever so slightly. The pleasure, the wine getting into your head—it’s all suddenly too much. Paradoxically, you find the app somehow without looking out of a habit you learned throughout the months you’ve been casually seeing him, for Jungkook never fucks without his ‘It’s Jeon Time’ sex playlist. And he always wants you to pick out the first song. 
It impacts what he does to you later.
You scroll and you tap on a random song.
No BS by Chris Brown.
You return the phone and Jungkook begins to pepper soft kisses on your throat, pocketing the device. A sudden throbbing on your bundle of nerves makes you tenderly whine and in your head, you curse him out for making you needy again. He pretends not to hear you, making a way to your chin. He kisses it. Ghosts his lips over yours, puckers them to tease you and hums in appreciation for the song. You grab him everywhere you can. Hair, neck, shoulders. Squeezing. As if he hadn’t fucked the soul out of you earlier. As if you weren’t spent. And he just laughs.
No matter how soft the sound is, it forces all of the peach fuzz on your body to rise.
Oh, you’ve made him horny. You’re fucked.
No party for you.
“Good little girl,” he coos, grabbing your ass and pulling you flush to his body. The praise before the degradation—the calm before the storm. “Can always expect the best from you. You never fail to please me.”
His hardness greets you first, pressed torturously against your mound. You mewl at the feeling, but he silences you. His lips are second to say a playful hello as they delve into a firm kiss, hand grasping your hair in his fist. He inhales against you and before the two of you know it, you’re moving your bodies to the slow, sensual rhythm of the song. Jungkook kisses you again, parts your lips with his and slips his tongue inside. 
Just to taste you, briefly.
He spins you around. 
Towering over you, he wraps his arms around your middle and sways with you, pushing your hair to one side, so he can focus on your neck once more. Gliding his lips up and down your neck, nose nuzzling into the safe space there near your ear, he inhales again, your scent being the translucent ship that gets him to heavenly places he dreams of every now and then. He guides you with his hips, needing to be in control of everything, even of something as insignificant as a simple, intimate dance. You love it, you could never get enough of it. The stability being the foundation that holds it is what attracts you to it, the stability that you never had, the one that your inner child deserves. 
Palms flat on your tummy, Jungkook drifts them down and stops at your hips, fingers reaching your mound. 
“Those hips will be the death of me,” he murmurs, caressing your sides while continuing guiding you, pressing you just right against his prominent length. “Did you really expect me not to get hard seeing you dance like that?” 
You bite your lip, furrowing your eyebrows, rotating your hips to the chorus of the song, head empty. 
Jungkook grunts. The sound intoxicates you even more.
“My princess doesn’t really know what she’s doing to me, does she?” He hooks his fingers under the hem of your dress. “Too horny, too needy to think, hm?”
Shamelessly, you nod. “Want you again. Want to feel you inside of me.” 
Jungkook hums, then breaks into a gentle laughter. Lifts your garment and lets his fingers roam on your clothed folds, the white fabric drenched in your dewiness—pellucid enough to show the beauty of your flesh. 
Aware of how wet you are, he clicks his tongue. “You filthy girl, how many times do I have to fuck you in order for you to have enough?”
You grow silent. Brimming with a woozy desire, you opt to grind your ass against him again. Your brain cannot come up with any smart answer that would please him, so this is the best you could do. Jungkook curses under his breath, leans back to watch you. He meets each and every movement of your hips and completes them, creating waves that spur the butterflies in your belly to life. 
“Filthy”—He spanks you—“Fucking”—Another spank—“Girl.”
Knees bent, Jungkook grinds against your core, cutting short your hissing. He turns you around and bends you against the wardrobe, places your hands flat on the cherry wood. Takes off your panties swiftly and lets them pool by your ankles. Spanks you below your ass cheek, moaning at the lift and ripple of your plumpness. Does it again on the other one, letting out a sound that makes your dewiness, similarly like the wine down the sides of your neck, leak and stick to your inner thighs. Something between a dark chuckle, a moan and a purr of endearment. 
“What am I to do with such a greedy girl like you?” he says, fingers tracing each curve of your ass to etch the memory of it deeper into his brain. “You deserve to be fucked like this. Mercilessly, for my pleasure. Like the little slut you are. But I’ll be good to you.” 
He pushes your left inner thigh, guiding you to spread your legs. Cups your pussy, digits spreading your essence all over you. 
“I’ll be good to you because you just can’t help it, can you? Poor little baby is just a slut for this cock.”
You mewl at his words, but then you discover that he didn’t lubricate your cunt for you, but for himself.
You yelp when you feel his tongue right there on the softness of your inner thigh, licking up a stripe to drink you. You didn’t expect him to do it so quickly and your whines increase in volume when Jungkook buries his head in your pussy, the deft muscle swirling around your pulsating bundle, licking between your folds and teasing around your hole. You push your hips back, wanting him there more than ever, but he spanks you, bites your flesh before he soothes the pain with his kisses. Big kisses as he calls them, the ones with full tongue. The nasty, the dirty. Big kisses for big girls with experience—those he teaches. 
Jungkook stands up and wraps his fingers around your jawline, holding you like that as he draws closer to your ear. 
“Looks like you can’t go out with your little pussy wet like that and those pretty panties soiled like they are, can you?” He turns your head so you look at him and you let him see your star-filled eyes, damp with the cosmos. “What would they think of you?”
“Koo,” you cry out.
He purrs in mock sympathy. “I left you alone for what, half an hour? And your pussy is needy again. That’s not right, is it? You should stop and think about this. Daddy’s not fixing it for you.” 
As if he hadn’t spoken a word, he sinks his fingers inside of you. Middle and ring. Jackhammers them until you scream, then he pulls them out and spanks your pussy once, twice. With all four of his digits, he rubs the entirety of your femininity, sloppily and rapidly, the drops of your essence joining the company of the drying wine on the parquet floor. You’re seeing white, your orgasm inches away from you.
“Jungkook, please, don’t stop—” Your mouth rounds, voice breaks into a moan. “I’m gonna come, please, please—” 
He withdraws his fingers. Entire body, too. Like a starved animal, head tipped low, he stares you down. 
You struggle to catch your breath, swallowing dryly, leaning your head against your forearms.
“You said—you said you’d be good to me,” you croak out, throat dry, eyes lidding, mind absolutely fucked out. 
“I am.” 
The meaning of his words eludes you, but you soon forget about thinking when he licks his fingers clean. Wraps those pretty, puffy pillows around his slender fingers and sucks them. Then, he undoes the few buttons left of his ebony shirt, slowly and precisely. You clench around nothing, walls pressing together tightly. You’d slip a finger inside if you weren’t holding the side of the wardrobe for dear life.
“Get on the bed, now,” he orders. “Leave the dress on. Panties, too. I’ll show everyone how much of a little slut you are.” 
Without a second thought, you do as he says. 
You sit down on the edge of the bed and spread your legs as wide for him as the undergarment enfolding your thighs allows you, the ivory material pulled taut—your dewiness on show. Jungkook walks into the room like he has all the time in the world, like you aren’t gripping the flesh of your sides in order not to touch yourself. His shirt is fully unbuttoned now and the fabric lets you see a slither of his defined abdomen and fine black pubic hair peeking out of his Calvins due to how low his slacks are fixed on his hips. You lick your lips, dig half-moons into your skin until your knuckles turn white.
You need him. You need him so much that tears pool within the cosmos of your eyes.
“If only they were to see you right now,” he mutters. “So desperate for me. It’s too bad only I get to see you like this, isn’t it?” 
He worsens your desire with that mouth of his. It’s extreme. You scratch your nails down your thighs to relieve yourself at least a little bit. 
Fists on each side of you, Jungkook leans towards you. His simple gold chain swings in your face and you bite your lip to keep your needy mewls at bay.
“Am I talking to myself?” 
You shake your head ‘no’. 
“Did you forget how to talk?” He cocks his eyebrow. 
“I need you so bad. I can’t take it anymore,” you whine out, the best your brain could muster.
Jungkook puckers his lips at you in feigned sympathy again and you expect the worst to come out of his mouth, but he surprises you when he says, “what do you want me to do to you?”
You gasp almost soundlessly. Your heart skips in your chest happily. Fire of the starlight shines in your eyes and a brand new flush finds its way to your cheeks, hotter than the one from earlier when you were dancing with the sun. Before you can think you answer through, it slips out of you.
“Lick my pussy, please.” 
Jungkook smirks and the blush of roses smears across his cheeks and nose as well. He wipes at his mouth as if your answer made him drool—cuts the anticipation and kneels down at the bed, pushing your legs back. 
“Who am I to deny you?” 
The butterflies within your tummy go berserk. 
Tongue flat, he licks up your cunt. Over and over, lapping up your wetness, moaning, seizing your girlishness and rolling it over in his mouth. You tip your head back between your shoulder blades and your arms begin to shake, holding all of your weight. Like you were previously grinding against him, you do the same movement now into his face. Recreate the waves as he rides his tongue against your clit. 
He stops when you catch his gaze.
You cry out for him, bucking your hips. He shakes his head, eyes never leaving yours. His puffy lips glint in the dimmed light, the sun rays seconds away from saying their final goodbye.
“Needy little whore.”
Jungkook flicks at your little seashell, wraps those pillows around the muscle out of habit, but decides against it. Denies you the pleasure, knows too well you come too quickly from the suction. Decides to flutter his tongue instead, the pressure light, making you tremble like a butterfly wing. Retracts. Starts the torture again, alternating between light and hard. Fucks with your brain. Fucks with you.
“This feels too good, Daddy, oh my god.” 
You watch him at work, mouth parted open, sounds of gratification coming out freely. He’s never done this to you before. It’s new, it’s different and it feels otherworldly; it feels like he’s transporting you back to pink planet again. The faint pleasure, the build up, the hard intensity at last before he starts again. He pins your hips down to prevent you from getting ahead, lidded eyes zeroing on yours, and the cord in your belly tightens. You near to the edge, gusts of gasps and ragged breaths flowing out of your mouth. 
“I’m coming, Daddy, I’m coming, oh fuck.” 
The harsh light of stars comes down slowly upon your eyesight. You’re almost there. You roll your hips to meet his tongue one last time, despite the deathly grip he has on your hip bones, but he lifts his head. Rips the orgasm away from you.
“No.” He wipes his mouth with his hand.
Your vision blurs and frustration burns you hot.
“What?”
“You’re not coming.” 
You stare at him, eyelashes flittering. At loss for words.
“We have a party to go to, don’t we?” 
You scrunch up your eyebrows. You thought you weren’t going anywhere?
“And if you’re good, I’ll think about letting you come tonight.”
Your mouth falls open. 
“Close it before I fuck it.” 
He cups your chin, closing it for you. Wraps his fingers around your throat and pushes you back on the mattress. Your hair fans all around you and you hold your clothed breasts for emotional support, your brain not really registering that you’re getting fucked and that you’re not allowed to cum. You sob tearlessly at his cruelty, lifting your head to look at him. 
Jungkook unzips his slacks. Doesn’t bother to lower them, only pulls out his heavy length out of the tight confines of his boxers. His precum shines prettily on his mushroom and he spreads it all around him, jacking himself off, grunting, groaning, throwing his head back. All while being completely ignorant to your inner turmoil. 
“Look at what you’ve done to me,” he whispers, letting go of his cock to show you just how hard he is. 
Your head spins. His tip reaches his belly button and the thickness of his shaft obscures most of his pubic hair. You moan, aching to have him inside of you. Feel your slick trickle down onto the bedding. 
“So hot,” you say, lifting your eyes to catch him focused on the reactions painted on your face with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth, chest heaving quickly. “You’re so beautiful.” 
Abruptly, Jungkook flops you onto your stomach. Crawls over you. Straddles you. Veiny forearms, partly shielded by the waterfall of your hair, come to stay on either side of your head. 
He reaches for the white bunny plushie resting against the pillows and hands him to you. Brushes your hair away from your face to whisper into your ear, “you better hold onto him.” 
You clutch him to your chest and bury your face in his soft fur. 
“Remember the rule?” he asks and you feel him drag the tip of his cock down the line of your ass—you feel him stop at your tight hole. 
Your breath shakes. “I can’t come.” 
Body reacting on its own, hips lifting, you allow him to glide down to your pussy.
Jungkook hums in appreciation. “That’s right. Look at you, so good for me already.” 
He chuckles darkly and you hate your life.
“You only know how to behave yourself when you want to come, don’t you? Such a slut.”
He punctuates his sentence by sheathing himself inside of you. You grip your plushie tight, groaning into his fur. He does it all in one go, not stopping once to let you adjust around him. He huffs against your hair, mocks your sound, eyelashes fluttering at your tightness, mouth agape. It’s otherworldly how he fits. It’s otherworldly how you can make out his expression, how you see it clearly behind your closed eyelids—how him mocking you and imitating you makes you drip even more, the lewdness of your juices encouraging him to go balls-deep. 
He rams into you. 
You scream into the bunny.
He rams into you in staccatos, the headboard of the bed colliding over and over again into the wall. Swift jerks. Hard. 
You feel so full.
“Slutty fucking pussy,” he whispers, gathers all of your hair into his fist and pulls your head back. Begins to fuck you evenly, picking up the pace. “So tight around Daddy, fuck.” 
You must be floating. Somewhere out there within that pink planet. All your surroundings are bleary, distorted, but so vibrant. Just as your hair is pulled back so are your wings retracted in the same way, held by your captor. You feel his lips at your temple, parted, breath hot and heavy. You can’t even hear yourself amidst your pleasure and his, but somehow—all of a sudden—you hear the voice of your favorite singer echoing in the living room.
Do I Wanna Know by the Arctic Monkeys. 
Little by little, you feel yourself returning back to planet Earth. Drool wets the corners of your mouth and you don’t have the strength to wipe it off, focusing all of your strength on stalling your orgasm, the voice of your beloved Alex pushing against you in a fight.
Jungkook lets go of your hair, but wraps the same arm around your shoulders, plushie and neck, his weight coming on top of yours. Continues to slam into you without any care of the world, heedless of the way you’re fighting for your life.
“If I’m not mistaken, this is your song, baby, isn’t it?” he breathes into your ear, slowing down his pace, hips rocking against you to the rhythm.
You sob at the mercy, the ferocity of your incoming orgasm dwindling away. 
That is until he starts pounding you into the mattress again. 
You scream out. White vision begins to chase you again, the cord tightening in your full lower tummy. 
“Jungkook, please, I can’t—I can’t—” 
He grunts at your helplessness, hand gripping your mouth. Pace so fast your head knocks back into his shoulder. 
“You can take it. It’s your song.” He squeezes your cheeks. Grinds his hips slowly. You roll your eyes back, feeling him nudge your cervix. 
He begins to kiss along your jawline, your earlobe, the contours of the shell. You do the same, peppering kisses upon his forearm as your position allows you. 
“We could be together, if you wanted to,” he huffs the lyrics into your ear, just for you to hear. 
The cord snaps. 
Wetness gushes out of you; a sweet stream of your dewiness forces him to pull out of you—and your wet orgasm triggers his. He paints your open back white with his hot spurts of cum, sealing you, completing you. Jacks himself off with one hand while the other rubs your pussy, spanking it. You’re squirming, screaming, the orgasm long and so intense that you don’t even know where you are. Jungkook fingers you with three digits and coaxes another surge out of you. Slacks destroyed, dress soiled, bodies spent—your screams silent. 
He caresses the roundness of your ass to calm you down. 
“Breathe for me, baby,” 
You try, but you can’t. 
Too exhausted. 
You feel him leave, but in a moment you sense the mattress dipping beside you. The coldness of wet wipes on your skin, getting rid of the evidence of his pleasure. The warmth of his thumb on the tear-stained skin under your eyes as he turns you to your side. 
A glass of cold water is in his hand. You suddenly feel parched. His touch brought your senses back to you. 
“Sit up.”
You finish the glass in gulps. Some of it leaks down your throat. Jungkook smirks. 
“Well done.”
You hug your plushie tighter. “I’m sorry for coming.” 
Jungkook caresses your hair. You’re sitting on your legs while he’s standing by the side of the bed. Running his fingers through your disheveled, ruined curls. 
“I fucked you that hard on purpose,” he murmurs, curling a strand of hair behind your ear, finger coming to a stop at the beginning of the line of your jaw. “It was my intention to make you come.” 
You lean into his touch. Kiss the edge of his palm. Drowsy, droopy eyes still bearing into his. 
“Like I said. You did well.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Arms up.”
He takes off your dress and slinks your arms through the sleeves of his black shirt that he had discarded while fucking you. Your eyelids are shut when he lays you down on the cold side of the bed, tucking you in, and you’re halfway through the footpath to your pink planet when he promises, “I’ll make it up to you about that party.” 
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