#if you watch them pls come and tell me how you feel about them ;~~;

[footballfanficwriter]

Hi!!!! I love ur work!!!! So watching bridgerton has inspired me a lot!! So imagine Jude and reader in regency era!! Like them maybe meeting at a ball at first, then they slowly start to court each other, fall in love etc! u can add ur own twist and spice and work ur magic!!!!!

Love's Redemption

A/n: I wanted to release this the day after of Season 3 pt2 and It's quite long, longer than my others but I hope you enjoy, pls comment at the end

The grand ballroom of Hartfield Hall sparkled with opulence. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden glow over the assembled guests, their jewels glittering in the soft light. Ladies in resplendent gowns of silk and satin whispered behind their fans, and gentlemen in finely tailored tailcoats stood in small clusters, discussing the latest gossip or political intrigue.

Among these elite, Jude Bellingham, a young and dashing duke, stood out with his broad shoulders and an air of confidence that turned heads wherever he went. Despite his high status, his demeanor was approachable, his smile disarming, and his dark eyes keenly observant.

On the opposite side of the ballroom, I stood with my family, feeling slightly out of place amidst the grandeur. My dress, though beautiful, was simpler than most, a testament to my family's modest means compared to the aristocracy surrounding us. However, I held myself with a quiet dignity that I hoped would draw admiration from those who took the time to observe.

As the evening progressed, the time came for the first dance, and the Master of Ceremonies called for partners.  The Duke of Ross's eyes scanned the room, finally settling on me. There was a spark of curiosity and recognition in his gaze but I quickly averted my eyes.

With a determined stride, The Duke made his way across the room, bowing slightly as he reached me t'was not until he was right in front that I noticed his presence as I was conversing with my Brother "May I have the honor of this dance?" he asked, his voice smooth and inviting.

I felt a flutter in my chest but managed a composed smile as I accepted his hand. "It would be my pleasure, Your Grace."

The two of us moved gracefully onto the dance floor, and as the music swelled, we began to waltz. The world seemed to fade away, and for those few minutes, it felt as though the duke and I were the only two people in the room. His touch was gentle, his movements confident, and I found myself drawn to him in a way I couldn't quite explain.

After the dance, he led me to the refreshment table, where we engaged in conversation. We spoke of our interests, our families, and our dreams, and he listened intently. The evening passed in a whirlwind of dances and conversations, and by the end of the night, I knew I wanted to see him again.

The next day I break my fast in the drawing room with a copy of Lady Wistledown

"Ladies and gentlemen of the ton it seems as though we have a new arrival in town the young Duke of Ross Jude Victor William Bellingham has come to take over  his estate and claim his inheritance, he  made his first appearance last night at Lady Danbury's first ball of the season, which was exquisite to say the least

The young Duke immediately caught the eyes of the Young ladies and their Mammas as they fought over his attention but it seemed he already had his eye on another, young Lady Y/n Berth, who was conversing with her brother at the time, did not seem to notice the Duke when he approached 

As he asked for a dance she gracefully accepted and they took to the dance floor staring intently into each other's eyes as if they had been longing to find one another  for a long time

The whole Ton had their eyes on them as they danced and  Waltz on the dance floor so elegantly

Could this be the couple of the season or is it far to early to tell, one things is definitely for certain, they make a beautiful couple"

I smile at the paper remember and thinking about the events of the previous night how he held me, how softly he spoke when adressing me, when he refused to let my hand go after I tried to pull away, his grip gently tightening on my hand, as a silent plead to not let go, how he was so polite and kind towards me, the way we spoke about many things that we related to and how easy it was for the both of us to converse about many things

"Good morning My Darling, are you well?"

"Oh mamma, I am far from well I am splendid" I say smiling

"Am I correct to assume that you feel this way because of a certain Handsome Duke"

"Well mother your assumptions are quite correct, I cannot get him out of my mind, he is all I think about"

"Be careful now dear, you have only just met the Duke, get to know the person he is first before making any confessions"

"Of course Mamma"

Over the following weeks, Jude made every effort to court me. He sent me flowers, invited me for walks in the gardens of his estate, and attended every social event where he knew I would be present. With each meeting, I found myself falling for him a little more, charmed by his sincerity and kindness.

One sunny afternoon, as we strolled through the blooming rose garden at Hartfield Hall, Jude paused and turned to me, taking my hands in his. "I know we have not known each other for long, but I feel as though I have known you forever," he said, his voice filled with earnest emotion and  got down on one knee. "You have captured my heart completely, and I cannot imagine my life without you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

I nodded, unable to find the words to express my happiness. "Yes, Jude. Yes, I will."

Lady whistledown

Dearest reader as it seems that as of this Afternoon the Duke of Ross has taken a bride, During the early hours of the Afternoon The Duke of Ross  proposed to Miss Y/n Berth and she has accepted, the two were having an afternoon stroll when the Duke suddenly  stopped walking and got down on one knee I would assume that he spoke a heart felt of words as it was a happy moment for the two, we congratulate the happy couple and wish them all the best

The wedding was a grand affair, attended by all of high society, hosted by Lady Danbury as she insisted that she wanted to be the one to host it, and who were we to decline such a gift, Jude and I were happy throughout the day and we could not take our eyes of each other amidst the splendor and celebration, the most important thing was the love between Jude and I.

The first few months of our marriage were blissful. We traveled, hosted dinners, and enjoyed the admiration of our peers. However, as time passed, whispers began to reach my ears. Gossip of Jude's past indiscretions and rumors of a former lover began to circulate.

One evening, at a particularly opulent ball, I noticed a strikingly beautiful woman across the room. Her eyes were fixed on Jude, and there was a familiarity in her gaze that sent a shiver down my spine. I approached Jude, intending to ask him about her, but before I could speak, she made her way over to us.

"Jude," she said, her voice dripping with confidence and a hint of malice. "It has been too long."

Jude's eyes grew bigger , and he took a step back. "Lady Laura" he said, his voice strained. "What are you doing here?"

Lady Laura smiled, a predator's smile. "I simply had to see the woman who captured your heart so completely."

I stood there, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach. "Jude, who is she?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jude hesitated, his eyes filled with guilt. "She is... an old acquaintance," he said, but I could tell there was more to the story.

As the weeks went by, the tension between Jude and I grew. The whispers of scandal became louder, and I felt the weight of society's judgment. I confronted Jude one evening in the privacy of our home.

"Jude, you must tell me the truth about Lady Laura," I demanded, my voice trembling with frustration.

He sighed, rubbing his face with both his hands. "She was... she was my lover before I met you," he admitted. "I ended things with her when I realized I loved you, but she has not taken it well."

I felt a pang of betrayal. "Why did you not tell me?"

"I wanted to protect you from the scandal," he said, his eyes pleading. "I did not want our love to be tainted by my past mistakes."

Despite his words, the doubt lingered in my heart. The rumors continued to swirl, and Lady Laura's presence became a constant reminder of Jude's past. It was not long before a particularly vicious piece of gossip reached my ears: a letter, supposedly from Jude to Laura professing his undying love and regret over their separation.

I confronted Jude with the letter, my heart aching. Walking to our shared chambers and enter the room

"Jude is this tru-"

Rather then seeing my husband reading in bed like he usually is I find him on my vanity with Laura, shirtless and Laura half dressed in nothing but her under garments

They quickly jump and let go of eachother

"I should have listened to mother" I say and walk out and pack my things in a haste

"Darling, please listen"

"Leave me"

"Just listen"

"I cannot stand the sight of you right now"

I leave in the carriage and go to my mother's house

When I arrive I tell my mother everything that happened, Laura's arrival, the letter and what I saw them doing and her face hardens and she tells me that I can stay for as long as I wish

3 days later

I'm sitting in my room reading a copy of Lady whistledown

"I am here to see my wife" I hear just outside the window

It's him, I slightly peak my head just enough to see him

His hair is a mess, he's in nothing but an untied shirt that slightly shows his chest and trousers

"Apologies your grace but we have been given strict orders not to let you through" I hear one of the guards say

"By who?"

"Miss Y/n Berth"

"That is not her name, her name is y/n Bellingham the Duchess of Ross and she is my wife"

He fights his way past the guards and makes it through into the house

"Where is she"

"Where is my wife"

I slightly walk down the stairs just to see the encounter but making sure I am not seen

"What is the meaning of this" my mother asks as she approaches Jude

"I need to see her"

"She needs time" she replies firmly

"I have given her time, I have given her 3 days"

"Give her more then"

"Please I need to see her"

My mother pulls out a portrait of me from her pocket and shows it to Jude

"There you have seen her, now take your leave"

"I refuse to leave without seeing her, I want her to tell me as she looks at me that she does not wish to see me, then and only then will I take my leave" he says with tears in his eyes

"My goodness"mother says

I walk further down the stairs

"Tis alright mother I shall converse with him" I say

"Very well but I will still be in the room as a chaperone"

"She is my wife, I do not need a chaperone when I am with her"

mother is about to protest when I reasure her

"Mamma I will handle this"

She leaves the room and for a moment I feel sorry for Jude

"My love, oh how I have missed you"  he says walking towards me but I step back and that stops him from walking

As Jude's silent  plea echoed through the room, I stood there, my heart torn between love and betrayal. His disheveled appearance, the anguish in his eyes—it was almost enough to make me reconsider. But then I remembered the letter, the damning evidence of his infidelity, and my resolve hardened once more.

"What is it that you want?" I asked, my voice cold and distant, betraying none of the turmoil raging within me.

Jude took a step towards me, his expression pleading. "I want to explain, to make things right between the both of us," he said, his voice trembling with emotion.

I held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. "Explain what, Jude?" I demanded, my voice tinged with bitterness. "That you were caught with Laura in our chambers, half-dressed and shameless? That you wrote her a letter professing your undying love, while your own wife lay in bed, oblivious to your deceit?"

Jude's eyes widened in shock, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as he searched for words. But before he could respond, I continued, my voice growing stronger with each passing moment.

"I trusted you, Jude," I said, my voice trembling with anger. "I believed in our love, in the promises we made to each other. But you betrayed that trust, in the most hurtful way possible."

Tears welled up in Jude's eyes, his hands reaching out to me, but I stepped back, out of his reach. "I cannot forgive you, Jude," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Not now, not ever."

As Jude's tear-filled eyes pleaded with me for understanding, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. But sympathy could not erase the hurt, the betrayal that had cut me to the core.

"What of the both of us?" Jude whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "What of our life together?"

I met his gaze with a steely resolve, my heart hardening against the pain. "There is no 'both of us" anylonger" I replied, my voice cold and distant. "Not after what you have  done."

Jude's shoulders slumped, his heart breaking before my eyes. "But where will you go?" he asked, desperation creeping into his voice. "What will people say if they are to find that my wife is living with her mother?"

I sighed, knowing that there was no easy answer to his question. "I will return home in two days time," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "And when I arrive, you will not refer to me as your wife. The only time we will play the role of husband and wife is when we are in public. Behind closed doors, we are merely people who stay together, nothing more you shall not disturb my peace and I shall do the same, you are free to seek solace in anyone in the ton, you have already been unfaithful, you might as well continue the streak."

Jude's eyes widened in shock, his heart breaking all over again. "But what about children?" he asked, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "Who will bear the children, make the heir?"

I met his gaze head-on, my resolve unwavering. "Take a second wife" I said, my voice cold and distant. "Someone who is willing to bear your children, to fulfill the duties of a wife. I have no desire to bear your children, to be tied to you in such a way."

Jude's face fell, his dreams of a family shattered beyond repair. "But what about your dream?" he asked, his voice filled with desperation. "To be a mother, to care for our children, to love them wholeheartedly?"

I shook my head, a bitter smile playing on my lips. "That dream will never be fulfilled" I said, my voice hollow with grief. "I have come to terms with that fact."

Jude's eyes filled with tears, his heart breaking at my words. "But would you treat my children badly, with hatred?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

I met his gaze with a steely resolve. "No, Jude," I replied, my voice cold and distant. "I cannot punish innocent children for the decisions their parents made."

With that, Jude wiped his red eyes and turned away, his heart heavy with regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible as he made his way to the door.

The minute he closed the door behind him, leaving me alone with my shattered dreams and broken heart, my facade crumbled, and I collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down my cheeks as I mourned the loss of the life I had once known.

2 days later

Two days later, as I returned home, the air was thick with tension, the weight of our fractured relationship hanging heavy in the air. Jude awaited me in the grand foyer, his posture stiff and formal as he greeted me with a curt nod.

"Your Grace," he said, his voice cold and distant, the warmth that had once filled his words replaced by an icy reserve.

"Your Grace," I replied, my own voice tinged with bitterness as I returned his greeting with equal formality.

For a moment, we stood there, two strangers in the grand expanse of our once-happy home, the silence stretching between us like a chasm too vast to bridge. I could see the longing in Jude's eyes, the desire to reach out to me, to hold me close and make everything right again. But he held himself back, the weight of our past mistakes too heavy to bear.

With a sigh, I turned away, making my way up the grand staircase and down the hallway towards my chambers. But before I could disappear behind closed doors, Jude's voice cut through the silence like a knife.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.

I paused, turning to face him with a cold stare. "To my chambers," I replied, my voice laced with bitterness.

Jude frowned, confusion clouding his features. "But your chambers are this way," he said, gesturing towards the hallway that led to our shared bedroom.

I shook my head, a bitter smile playing on my lips. "No, Jude," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your chambers are that way. Mine are this way."

Jude's eyes widened in realization, the truth of my words hitting him like a blow to the chest. "You did not think I would go back there," I continued, my voice filled with venom, "after the events that took place in those chambers."

With that, I turned and walked away, leaving Jude standing there in the hallway, his heart heavy with regret. And though I knew that our relationship was beyond repair, a part of me couldn't help but wonder what might have been if things had been different. But as I disappeared behind closed doors, the weight of my decision settling over me like a shroud, I knew that there was no going back, no undoing the damage that had been done.

The following day I received an invitation from Lady Laura for tea, after receiving the invitation from Laura, I hesitated for a moment, feeling a knot of unease tighten in my stomach. The thought of facing her again, of enduring her taunts and jibes, filled me with dread. But curiosity, and perhaps a hint of defiance, won out in the end, and I found myself making the journey to her estate.

As the carriage got in front fo the grand mansion, my apprehension grew. The imposing gates swung open with a creak, and I stepped out of the carriage, steeling myself for what lay ahead. The servants greeted me with forced smiles as they ushered me inside, but their eyes betrayed a sense of apprehension, as though they knew what awaited me within those walls.

Laura was waiting for me in the drawing-room, a triumphant smile playing on her lips as she greeted me with false warmth. "Ah, Duchess, how lovely of you to join me," she purred, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Do come in and make yourself comfortable."

I forced a polite smile, though every fiber of my being longed to turn and flee. "Thank you, Lady Laura," I replied, my tone carefully neutral as I took a seat opposite her.

As the servants brought in tea and refreshments, Laura wasted no time in getting to the point. "I'm sure you're wondering why I invited you here today," she began, her eyes glittering with malice.

I arched an eyebrow, though inwardly I braced myself for whatever barb she was about to unleash. "I must admit, the thought had crossed my mind," I replied coolly.

Laura's smile widened, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "You see, Duchess, I believe in honesty above all else," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "So I will not mince words. I invited you here today to gloat, to revel in the knowledge that I have won."

I felt a surge of anger rise within me, but I forced myself to remain composed. "Won what, exactly?" I asked, though I already had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Laura leaned forward, her eyes locked on mine with a chilling intensity. "I heard your footsteps approaching the chambers that day, Duchess," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "I had known you were coming, and I saw an opportunity to secure my place by Jude's side once and for all."

I felt my eyes grow bigger as her words sank in. "You... you threw yourself at him?" I whispered, unable to conceal the horror in my voice.

Laura's smile turned into a smirk, devoid of any remorse. "Oh, please, Duchess, spare me your shock and indignation," she said dismissively. "You may have had his heart once, but now it belongs to me. And there's nothing you can do to change that."

Her words were like a dagger to my heart, each one twisting deeper than the last. But amidst the pain and betrayal, a fire ignited within me—a determination to fight for the man I loved, no matter the cost. With a steely resolve, I met Laura's gaze head-on, refusing to let her see the depth of my pain.

"Is that so, Lady Laura?" I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside me. "Well, forgive me if I refuse to accept defeat so easily. Love is not a game to be won or lost—it is a bond that transcends time and circumstance. And mark my words, I will fight for Jude with every breath in my body, until the day I draw my last."

With that, I rose from my seat, every inch the proud Duchess, and made my exit, leaving Laura to stew in her own malice. Though the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and heartache, I knew one thing for certain: I would not rest until Jude was mine once again, body and soul.

As I raced home to find Jude, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling of uncertainty gnawing at my soul. Every step felt like an eternity as I hurried through the grand halls of our estate, my mind consumed with thoughts of what awaited me at the end of my journey.

"Where is my husband?" I demanded, my voice tinged with panic, as I interrogated servants and guards alike in search of any sign of Jude's whereabouts.

But no one had seen him, and my anxiety only grew with each passing moment. It wasn't until a guard reluctantly approached me, his expression grim, that I finally received the news I had been dreading.

"Your Grace," he began, his voice hesitant, "Lord Bellingham has left the estate. He... he said he would return in a week's time."

My heart sank like a stone, the weight of his absence crushing me with its finality. But amidst the despair, a flicker of determination burned within me—a resolve to find Jude and make things right, no matter the cost.

With a steadying breath, I turned on my heel and made my way to my chambers, my mind racing with thoughts of how to reach him, how to let him know that I forgave him, that I still loved him despite everything that had transpired between us.

As I sank into a chair, my hands trembling with emotion, I couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency coursing through my veins. I needed to find Jude, to make him understand that I was willing to start anew, to rebuild what we had lost.

But as the days stretched on without any sign of his return, the weight of his absence bore down on me like a heavy burden. And though I longed to reach out to him, to let him know that I forgave him, that I wanted to begin again, I knew that time was running out.

With a heavy heart, I penned a letter to Jude, pouring out my thoughts and feelings in words that I hoped would reach him wherever he was. I begged him to come back to me, to give our love a second chance, to believe in the power of redemption.

But as the days went , and still there was no sign of him, I couldn't help but wonder if our love was truly strong enough to withstand the trials that fate had thrown our way. And though a part of me clung to the hope that Jude would return to me, I couldn't shake the nagging fear that our love had been lost to the winds of time.

A week later, the anticipation of Jude's return had me on edge. I had rehearsed my words countless times, determined to convey my forgiveness and my willingness to start anew. When the door to the drawing room opened, and Jude walked in, my heart leaped with a mix of hope and trepidation.

"Jude!" I exclaimed, standing up quickly, a genuine smile spreading across my face. "I have something to tell you—"

But his demeanor was somber, his eyes avoiding mine. His lack of enthusiasm made my heart sink.

"Your Grace," he interrupted quietly, his voice laden with resignation, "I have something to tell you as well."

I paused, my smile faltering as I searched his face for any sign of the man I had fallen in love with, the man I hoped to rekindle a life with.

"I will be  taking Lady Laura as my second wife," he continued, each word like a dagger to my heart. "She will be the mother of my children."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as his words sank in. I felt a cold wave of shock wash over me, my smile fading into an expression of disbelief.

At that moment, Laura entered the room, her smug smile widening as she took in the scene. The sight of her, with her triumphant air, made my blood boil, but I forced myself to remain composed.

"Oh, how lovely that will be for the both of you," I said, my voice strained but controlled. I managed a brittle smile, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing my pain.

With that, I returned to my seat and picked up my sketchbook, my fingers trembling slightly as I resumed my drawing. The lines I had been so carefully crafting now seemed meaningless, the vibrant colors now dull and lifeless.

As I focused on my work, I felt Jude's eyes on me, but I refused to meet his gaze. The silence between us was heavy, fraught with unspoken words and lingering regrets. Laura's presence only intensified the tension, her smug smile a constant reminder of the betrayal that had shattered my world.

Yet, despite the turmoil raging within me, I forced myself to maintain my composure. I would not let Laura see the depth of my pain, nor would I let Jude see the cracks in my facade. In this new reality, I had to find strength in my resolve, even if it meant burying my true feelings deep within.

The weight of the silence in the drawing room was oppressive, the air thick with unresolved tension and unspoken words. Just as I resumed my drawing, the quiet was broken by the arrival of a servant, holding a fresh edition of Lady Whistledown’s society papers. He handed it to me with a respectful bow before quickly retreating from the room.

Curiosity piqued, I unfolded the paper, my eyes scanning the familiar, elegantly penned words:

Lady whistledown

"Dearest Readers, it appears that the Duke of Ross has been seen entering his estate with Lady Laura, raising many an eyebrow among the ton. This unexpected development has left society abuzz with speculation. Is the once enviable union between the Duke and Duchess of Ross in jeopardy? Lady Laura’s presence at the Duke’s side has led to whispers of a potential shift in the household’s dynamics. What could this mean for the Duchess, a woman known for her grace and poise amidst adversity?

Rumors suggest that Lady Laura has been remarkably bold in her pursuits, capitalizing on the Duchess’s recent absence. Could it be that the Duke, faced with mounting pressures to secure his lineage, has found solace in Lady Laura’s calculated charms? Or is this simply a ploy to stir the pot

One thing is certain: this scandal will be the talk of every salon and drawing-room from here to Grosvenor Square. And, as always, I shall be here to document every delicious detail for your reading pleasure. Stay tuned, dear readers, for the drama is only just beginning."

The words stung, each sentence a bitter reminder of my current predicament. I glanced up to see Jude’s reaction, but his face was inscrutable, a mask of controlled emotion. Laura, however, seemed to relish the attention, her smile growing even more smug.

"Well, it appears Lady Whistledown has taken quite an interest in our affairs," Laura said, her tone dripping with mock concern. "It must be difficult, Duchess, to see your private matters aired so publicly."

I met her gaze evenly, refusing to be baited. "It is indeed unfortunate, Lady Laura. But I have always believed that one’s actions speak louder than any words written on a page."

Laura's eyes flashed with irritation, but she quickly composed herself, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. "Of course, Duchess. And I’m sure your actions will be watched very closely by everyone in the ton."

I forced a smile in return. "As will yours, Lady Laura."

With that, I turned back to my sketchbook, determined to ignore her presence. Yet, I couldn't help but notice Jude watching me, a mixture of regret and longing in his eyes. His gaze lingered, but I refused to acknowledge it, focusing instead on the lines and colors before me.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, Laura stood, her voice cutting through the tension. "If you’ll excuse me, I believe I shall take a tour of the gardens."

She left the room, her exit as dramatic as her entrance. I remained seated, my heart heavy with the weight of our fractured relationship. The reality of our situation had never felt more painfully clear.

"Your Grace," Jude said quietly, breaking the silence. "I—"

"There's nothing more to say, Jude," I interrupted, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "You've made your decision, and I must live with it."

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but I turned my attention back to my drawing, signaling the end of our conversation. The silence returned, thicker and more oppressive than before.

As the afternoon light waned, casting long shadows across the room, I knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges and heartache. But I also knew that I would face it with dignity and strength, determined to reclaim my happiness, even if it meant forging a new path alone.

As the days passed, Laura's presence in the house became increasingly unbearable. Her taunts and jabs seemed endless, each one more cutting than the last. One afternoon, as I sat in the drawing room, trying to lose myself in a book, Laura sauntered in, her smug smile firmly in place.

"Ah, Duchess," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Still lost in your books, I see. How quaint."

I didn't look up, determined not to let her get under my skin. "Yes, Lady Laura, I find solace in literature. Something you might consider."

She ignored my comment, seating herself on a nearby chaise lounge, her eyes never leaving me. "You know," she began, her tone casual, "I've been thinking a lot about the future. About the Bellingham legacy."

I stiffened but refused to give her the satisfaction of a response.

"It's quite exciting, really," she continued, undeterred. "Jude and I have talked at length about it. The children we will have, the heirs to the Ross estate. I can already picture myself with a little one in my arms, the next Duke or Duchess of Ross."

Her words were a knife to my heart, but I kept my expression neutral, my eyes fixed on the pages of my book. "How lovely for you," I said flatly, turning a page with deliberate slowness.

Laura's smile widened, sensing my discomfort. "Indeed. It’s a great honor to bear the next Bellingham heir. I imagine it must be difficult for you, knowing that your own dreams of motherhood will never come to fruition."

I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening on the book. "My dreams are none of your concern, Lady Laura."

"Oh, but they are," she said, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "You see, I will be fulfilling the role you failed to. Jude deserves an heir, and I am more than capable of giving him one. It’s only a matter of time before the entire ton knows of our joyous news."

She placed a hand on her stomach, as if already envisioning herself with child. "Can you imagine? The entire town celebrating the announcement of our firstborn. Such a wonderful occasion it will be."

I forced myself to remain calm, though my heart was pounding in my chest. "Congratulations, Lady Laura. I wish you all the best."

Laura's smile faltered for a moment, as if my lack of visible reaction had disappointed her. "You’re very gracious, Duchess. But I can’t help but wonder how you truly feel, knowing that another woman will bear your husband’s children."

I finally looked up, meeting her gaze with cold detachment. "I feel nothing, Lady Laura. Your provocations are wasted on me."

She laughed, a brittle sound that echoed through the room. "We shall see, Duchess. We shall see."

Unable to endure any more of her taunts, I rose from my seat and made my way to the door. "If you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."

As I walked down the hallway, the weight of Laura’s words pressed heavily on my heart. I didn't notice Jude until I nearly collided with him, his strong arms catching me just in time to prevent a fall. The proximity was startling; I could feel his breath against my skin, his eyes searching mine with a mixture of concern and longing.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice soft and earnest.

For a moment, the world seemed to pause, and the anger and hurt between us faded into the background. It would have been so easy to close the distance, to let myself fall into his arms and forget everything else. But the reality of our situation came crashing back, and I stepped away, breaking the spell.

"I’m fine," I said, my voice colder than I intended. "Please excuse me, Your Grace."

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but I turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the hallway, a silent witness to our fractured relationship.

A few days later:

In the bustling halls of Ross House, tensions simmered beneath the surface as Lady Laura's shrill voice echoed down the corridor. I followed the sound, my curiosity piqued, only to find her berating one of the maids for a trivial mishap.

"You imbecile!" Laura screeched, her face contorted with rage as she loomed over the trembling maid. "How dare you break my favorite vase? Do you have any idea how much it cost?"

Before I could intervene, the dutiful maid stammered out an apology, her eyes brimming with tears. "I-I'm sorry, my lady. It was an accident, I swear!"

But Laura was relentless, her tirade growing more vicious by the second. "You're nothing but a clumsy oaf! If it were up to me, I'd have you thrown out on the streets where you belong!"

Unable to stand by any longer, I stepped forward, my voice calm but firm. "That's enough, Lady Laura. It was just a vase. There's no need for such cruelty."

Laura's eyes flashed with fury as she turned her venomous gaze on me. "And who are you to speak to me like that? You're nothing but a lowly duchess, barely fit to lick the dirt from my shoes!"

Her words stung, but I refused to back down. "I may be a duchess, but I will not stand idly by while you mistreat those beneath you. Everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and respect, regardless of their station."

Before Laura could launch into another tirade, Jude's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his brow furrowed with concern as he entered the room.

The dutiful maid seized the opportunity to explain, her voice trembling as she recounted the events leading up to Laura's outburst. Jude listened intently, his expression darkening with each passing moment.

When the maid had finished, Jude turned to me, his eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment. "Is this true, Y/N? Did Lady Laura really behave in such a manner?"

I nodded, my heart heavy with sadness. "Yes, Jude. I'm afraid so. She was shouting at the maid for accidentally breaking her vase, and when I tried to intervene, she insulted me."

Jude's jaw clenched with barely contained fury, and he turned to Laura, his voice cold and unyielding. "Lady Laura, this behavior is unacceptable. You owe the maid an apology, and you will show the duchess the respect she deserves."

But Laura's face twisted into a mask of defiance, her eyes blazing with rage. "I owe them nothing!" she spat, her voice filled with contempt. "They're both beneath me, just like everyone else in this wretched house!"

Jude's expression darkened at my words, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "That's enough, Laura," he admonished, his voice firm and commanding. "You will not mistreat our servants, and you will certainly not speak to my wife in such a manner."

Lady Laura's eyes narrowed, her defiance evident as she retorted, "She is not your wife, I am. She is merely a woman who resides in our house."

Jude's jaw clenched at her words, his resolve unyielding. "She is not just a woman, Laura. She is my wife," he asserted firmly.

With a huff of indignation, Lady Laura stormed out of the room, leaving Jude and me in an awkward silence. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over our exchange.

Before Jude could break the silence, I turned on my heel and left the room, the tension too thick to bear. As I made my escape, I could feel Jude's eyes on me, a silent plea lingering in the air.

But I couldn't face him, not now. Not when the wounds inflicted by Lady Laura's taunts were still raw and stinging. So I retreated to the solace of my chambers, seeking refuge from the storm that raged within me.

After the tense encounter with Lady Laura and the incident with the maid, an awkward silence settled between Jude and me. I found myself unable to look him in the eye, the weight of his betrayal heavy on my heart.

In the days that followed, I made a conscious effort to avoid him at all costs. I broke my fast outside in the tranquility of nature, seeking solace in the gentle rustle of leaves and the soothing chirp of birdsong. But when Jude approached, his footsteps echoing softly on the path, I couldn't bear to stay.

Certainly! Here's the extended scene with more excuses:

"I... I forgot something in the house," I stammered, hastily rising from my seat and fleeing before he could utter a word.

In the halls of Ross House, I found myself turning the other way whenever I caught sight of him, my steps quickening as I tried to put as much distance between us as possible. I knew he wanted to talk, to explain, but I couldn't bring myself to listen, not when the wounds were still so fresh.

At mealtimes, I either took my food outside, where the open sky provided a welcome distraction, or retreated to the solitude of my room. I couldn't bear the thought of sitting across from him, the weight of his betrayal hanging heavy in the air.

And when Jude dared to approach me in the library or the drawing room, I made excuse after excuse to escape his company.

"I just remembered an urgent letter I need to write," I would say, hastily gathering my belongings and making a hasty exit.

Or, "I left my favorite book upstairs. I must retrieve it at once."

Each excuse felt flimsier than the last, but I clung to them desperately, unwilling to confront the truth of our fractured relationship.

"I... I must check on the flowers in the garden," I would mumble, casting a quick glance towards the nearest window before hurrying away.

Or, "I think I left the kettle on in the kitchen. It wouldn't do to let it boil dry."

"I'm feeling quite fatigued. I believe I shall retire early tonight," I would murmur, pretending to yawn and covering my mouth with my hand.

Or, "Oh, look, I seem to have dropped my handkerchief. I must go back and retrieve it."

But no matter how hard I tried to avoid him, Jude was always there, a constant presence in my thoughts and my heart. And as much as I tried to push him away, a part of me still longed for the day when we could mend the rift between us and find our way back to each other once more.

The soft rustle of pages turning and the faint scent of aged parchment enveloped me as I lost myself in the world of my book. The Library provided a sanctuary of solitude, a refuge from the tumultuous emotions that swirled within me.

Lost in the narrative, I didn't hear Jude's quiet footsteps as he entered the room. It was only when he stood before me, his presence demanding attention, that I reluctantly tore my gaze away from the page.

"Y/N," Jude's voice cut through the silence, his tone firm yet tinged with a hint of desperation. "I require a moment of your time."

I blinked, taken aback by the sudden interruption. "Jude, I... I was just..."

But he didn't let me finish. With a determined stride, he reached out and gently closed the book in my hands, his eyes locking onto mine with unwavering intensity.

"Y/N, I implore you," he said, his voice softening slightly. "You've been avoiding me at every turn, and I cannot endure it any longer. We must converse."

I opened my mouth to protest, to make another feeble excuse and flee the room, but before I could utter a word, Jude's hand closed around my wrist, holding me in place.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and steady. "I shan't release you until you have heard my words."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as I reluctantly met his gaze. There was a raw vulnerability in his eyes, a silent plea for understanding that tugged at my heartstrings.

With a resigned sigh, I allowed myself to be led to a nearby chair, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts and emotions. But as Jude began to speak, his words filled with sincerity and remorse, I found myself slowly letting down my guard.

He sat in front of me and taking my hands in his. His touch was warm and firm, yet trembling with emotion. "I simply cannot stand Laura, nor the distance that has grown between us. It's tearing me apart," he began, his voice filled with raw honesty.

I met his gaze, my heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. "Jude..."

"Every morning, I wake up hoping to see your face, to see your smile." he continued, his voice trembling. "But all I find is an empty space beside me, a reminder of what I have lost. I miss you, Y/N, more than words can express. I miss the way you know exactly what I need, sometimes even before I do. The way you would bring me a cup of tea just the way I like it when I'm buried in work, or the way you'd remind me to take a break when I'm pushing myself too hard and you taking over my work even though you had your own duties that needed to be taken care of

I listened to his heartfelt confession. His words cut through the wall I had built around my heart, each one resonating deeply within me.

"Do you know how much I hope every day that you will change your mind, that you will forgive me and come back to me?" Jude's voice broke, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. "I sometimes stare at you when you're not looking, hoping that one day you'll see the love in my eyes and decide to give us another chance."

He paused, his eyes searching mine for any sign of forgiveness. "I want you to be the mother of my children, Y/N. Not Laura. I want our children to grow up in a home filled with love and warmth, not the coldness and spite that Laura brings. She is not the kind of person I want raising my children. I want you. I needed you and I grew desperate to get you back on my side, Laura was simply a ploy of attempt to have you be my wife again,I had thought if you saw what Laura was taking from you, you would wake up and fight for our love."

His grip on my hands tightened, his eyes filled with tears. "Y/N, you are the light of my life, the reason I wake up every morning. Without you, I am nothing. I am lost. I know I have made mistakes, that I have hurt you in ways I can never take back, but I swear to you, with every fiber of my being, that I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, proving to you how much you mean to me. Please, Y/N, give me another chance. I cannot bear the thought of losing you forever."

His words hung in the air, filled with a raw, desperate sincerity that took my breath away. For a moment, there was only the sound of our breathing, the tension between us crackling like electricity.

Gathering my courage, I looked up and met his eyes. "Jude, I found out something... something that changes everything. Laura threw herself on you because she heard my footsteps approaching that day in our chambers making it the perfect set up to make it look like the both of you were in a compromising position."

His eyes widened in shock and anger. "What? She... she planned it?"

I nodded, my voice trembling. "Yes. She had told me when she invited me for tea the day I arrived. She practically gloated about it."

Jude's hands clenched into fists,  "I was oblivious to her game," he said through gritted teeth. "I thought I was doing what was right, protecting our honor... but all the while, she was manipulating me, us."

I reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "Jude, I wanted to tell you the day I had come to realise, to let you know I forgave you and that I wanted to fix our relationship. But you had been gone for a week, and when you returned, you brought Laura, presenting her as your second wife. I thought you had fallen for her."

He shook his head vehemently, tears forming in his eyes. "No, Y/N. I have  never loved her. It was always you. I was blind and foolish, but my heart has only ever belonged to you and will always belong to you."

the weight of our misunderstandings and lost time pressing heavily upon me. "Jude, you must understand how much it hurt, seeing you with her, thinking you had chosen her over me."

Jude's expression softened, his voice breaking with emotion. "I am so sorry, my love. I know I can't undo the past, but I swear I will make it right. Laura will be gone, and I will spend every day proving my love to you."

The atmosphere in Ross House was tense as Jude and I waited in the drawing room for Laura's arrival. The soft glow of candlelight cast eerie shadows on the walls, adding to the solemnity of the moment. I stood by Jude's side, my hands clasped tightly together, feeling a mixture of apprehension and determination.

When Laura entered the room, her expression was one of smug confidence, as if she believed she held all the cards. But the steely resolve in Jude's eyes made it clear that he was not to be trifled with.

"Jude, darling, what is this about?" Laura asked, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

Jude's jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin. "Laura, we need to talk," he said, his voice firm and authoritative.

Laura's facade of innocence faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. "Of course, darling. What is it?" she asked, her eyes darting between Jude and me.

Jude took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving Laura's. "I know the truth about what happened that day in the chambers," he began, his voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. "I know you threw yourself at me because you heard Y/N's footsteps approaching."

Laura's eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly masked it with a scoff. "Oh, Jude, whatever are you talking about? I would never—"

Jude cut her off, his patience wearing thin. "Enough, Laura. I know what you did, and I will not tolerate it any longer. You have caused nothing but pain and suffering in this house, and I will not allow it to continue."

Laura's mask of indifference cracked, her eyes narrowing with anger. "You can't just throw me out. I am your wife."

Jude's expression hardened, his resolve unwavering. "No, Laura, you are not my wife. You never were, and you never will be.You are nothing but a liar and a manipulator. I want you out of this house. Now."

Laura's face contorted with rage, but before she could protest further, Jude spoke again, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

"You have caused nothing but pain and suffering to my one and true wife, the woman who will bear my children," he declared, his words laced with a raw intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

Laura's eyes widened in shock at the harshness of his words, but Jude was not finished.

"Every moment you've spent in this house has been a torment for her, a relentless onslaught of manipulation and deceit. You have tried to tear us apart, to poison the love we share, but you will not succeed. Not anymore."

As Laura stood before us, her arrogance slowly giving way to defiance, Jude's patience wore thin. He stood tall, his eyes ablaze with a fierce determination to rid our home of her toxic presence once and for all.

Jude's voice was like steel, cutting through the tense silence of the room. "You have caused enough damage. It's time for you to leave."

Laura's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing as she squared her shoulders in defiance. "And if I refuse?" she retorted, her tone dripping with contempt.

Jude's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "You have no choice," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

For a moment, Laura hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. But then, with a defiant sneer, she straightened her spine and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not going anywhere," she spat, her voice laced with venom.

The air in the room grew thick with tension as Jude's anger simmered just beneath the surface. I could see the muscles in his jaw twitching with restraint, his eyes darkening with a dangerous intensity.

"Leave, Laura," Jude's voice was a low rumble, barely contained rage simmering beneath the surface. "Before I make you leave."

But Laura remained unmoved, her gaze defiant as she stood her ground. "You wouldn't dare, leave m for such a thing,?" she taunted, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

Jude's temper flared, his control slipping away like sand through his fingers. In that moment, his anger was palpable, a living, breathing force that seemed to fill the room with its sheer intensity. Even I, standing by his side, felt a chill run down my spine at the raw power emanating from him.

"You have no right to speak to her like that," Jude's voice was a thunderous roar, echoing through the room like a gunshot. "She is my wife, and you will show her the respect she deserves."

Laura's smirk faltered, her confidence wavering in the face of Jude's unrelenting fury. But before she could respond, Jude continued, his words dripping with contempt.

"You are nothing but a manipulative, conniving woman who has brought nothing but pain and suffering to both of us, especially to my wife," he spat, his voice filled with venom. "You treated her as if she was nothing, as if her feelings didn't matter. You used her, Laura, and I will not stand for it any longer."

The room seemed to tremble with the force of Jude's rage, the air thick with the weight of his words. For a moment, Laura looked as though she might argue, but then, with a defeated sigh, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

As the door slammed shut behind her, Jude's shoulders heaved with the effort to control his temper, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. I reached out to him, my hand trembling as I gently touched his arm.

"Jude," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Are you okay?"

As the echoes of Laura's departure faded into the distance, leaving behind an eerie silence, Jude stood in the center of the room, his chest heaving with the remnants of his anger. I approached him cautiously, reaching out to place a gentle hand on his arm, a silent gesture of support.

"Jude," I murmured softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Are you alright?"

His shoulders tensed at my touch, but slowly, almost imperceptibly, he began to relax. He turned to me, his eyes still burning with the fire of his fury, but there was a hint of something else there too - a vulnerability, a rawness that made my heart ache.

"I'm fine, Y/N," he replied, his voice tight with emotion. "But she had no right to speak to you like that. No right at all."

I nodded, my heart swelling with gratitude for his unwavering protectiveness. "I know, Jude. But she's gone now. We do not have to worry about her anymore."

Jude's expression softened slightly at my words, and he reached out to gently cup my face in his hands. "I'm sorry my love" he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "I did not mean to scare you."

I placed my hand over his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "tis alright, Jude," I whispered, my voice filled with tenderness. "I know you were only just attempting to defend me. And I appreciate it more than you know."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Jude's lips, and he pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest. "I love you, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

I nestled into his embrace, feeling the tension slowly melting away as the warmth of his love surrounded me. In that moment, as we stood there, united in our victory over Laura's tyranny, I knew that together, we could face whatever challenges lay ahead. And as Jude pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, I felt a sense of peace and safety wash over me, knowing that he would always be there to protect me, no matter what.

Months passed, and as the seasons changed, so too did our lives. The echoes of Laura's departure faded into distant memory, replaced by the joyful anticipation of a new life entering the world.

In the quiet stillness of our home, Jude and I eagerly awaited the arrival of our little one. The nursery had been lovingly prepared, filled with soft blankets and tiny clothes, each piece a testament to the love that had blossomed between us.

And then, one crisp autumn morning, our prayers were answered as our baby made their grand entrance into the world. The sound of their first cry filled the room, a symphony of new life and boundless joy.

Jude's eyes brimmed with tears as he cradled our precious bundle in his arms, his heart overflowing with love and wonder. I watched him, my own eyes misting over with emotion, as he pressed a tender kiss to our baby's forehead, his voice trembling with awe.

"Welcome to the world, little one," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "You are the most precious gift we could ever ask for."

And as I nestled into Jude's embrace, our baby nestled snugly between us, I knew that our journey was only just beginning. Together, we would navigate the ups and downs of parenthood, cherishing each moment as if it were our last.

In that moment, as the soft glow of dawn bathed our little family in its warm embrace, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, knowing that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by a love that was stronger than any storm.

[heeliopheelia]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

word count: 4.3k

warnings: cursing, crying, neglect, tiny mention of bleeding

a/n: i think i win the contest of overusing commas with this one 🤍 tbh this fic is just yapping so pls deal with me... it's good to write some proper angst again tho, i missed it :(( hope you guys like it and don't find them too repetetive!!

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

It's been two weeks since you got the opportunity to take a proper look at Heeseung. And now as you do, you find it hard to recognize your fiancé who looks like he's about to collapse from exhaustion, to say the least. 

“I never asked you to mother me or worry about me so much. Stop getting into my business so much. I’m not a child, YN.”

It’s like he was blind to how hurt his words and actions were making you feel. It’s so unusual for him, so out of character and unfamiliar to you, that you can’t help but think that maybe it really is your fault for riling him up this much.

“I worry about you because I’m your fiancé and I love you, you jerk!” You scoff at his careless words and take a step back, the aching in your heart only increasing. “I only want to look after you because you clearly don't know how to do it yourself. I mean, look at yourself! You look as if you haven’t slept in a week and I know you haven’t been eating either. How can I not worry about you when all you do is neglect yourself?”

“Dunno, maybe find yourself something to keep you busy enough. You stay at home all day, do as much as nothing, no wonder you’re so damn nosy. I would be too with this much time on my hands.”

He’s so indifferent to everything you say, you try to recall where it all started going so wrong. All you did was ask whether he’s eaten at work or not, and now the two of you are snapping at each other as if you weren’t lovers, and trying not to hurt each other was a long forgotten thought by now. 

“If you’re so unhappy with our relationship – with me, maybe it’s best we take a break,” you say as you feel your throat tighten painfully. 

“Agreed. I never even wanted this marriage in the first place,” he scowls, silencing you, words rolling out of his mouth way quicker than his brain is able to process it. 

He bites his words back quickly when he watches your face dropping along with your shoulders, and fuck, you look as if you’ve given up on him right then and there. 

You walk away then, tears streaming down your face, muttering something about how ungrateful he was being, and all Heeseung could do was stand still as if plastered to the floor, in utter disbelief of his own, untrue, words.

After his cruel statement echoes through his head for the fourth time, he finally snaps out of the self pity and rushes after you to the kitchen where you’re leaned over the counter, head buried in your hands as you cry.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. He walks up from behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for everything I said, sweetheart.”

He turns you around gently and feels his chest tighten at how fucking sad you look. He never wants to see you like this. He never wants to be the cause of this ever again.

And when he looks to the side, his throat closes and dries completely at the sight of your engagement ring laying on the counter right behind you. 

“Are you sure you didn’t mean it?” You ask, wiping the tears away with your hand pointlessly as another stream follows right after. “Things like that don’t come out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t, love, I swear I didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him by your neck again. 

Never again. Never fucking again. He keeps telling himself in his head as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles, just where your ring was supposed to be sitting snugly. Then he lowers it and places your palm against his chest, right above his heart, and covers your smaller hand with his.

That was too close to losing you, and himself, for that matter. Because he would never recover if you were gone from his life and all because of him. 

“Then why did you even say it?” You sob pitifully as you feel the warm tears dripping down the tip of your nose.

“I don’t know,” he shushes you gently, trying his best to not break you any further. 

You pull away once you feel calm enough, hands clutching his t-shirt. “It's not too late to call off the wedding, Seung,” you manage out breathily, raising your palm to cup his cheek. “I'd rather not take the step further than have you unhappy.”

“Darling, no.” Heeseung bends down to minimize the distance between the two of you and peppers your face with loving, warm kisses. He just wants to erase those atrocious thoughts out of your mind as quickly as possible. “Please, there's nothing I'd ever want more than to make you my wife. That was stupid of me to say. I'll never be happy if I'm not with you, my love.”

“I just don’t want to force this marriage on you. You need to want it as much as I do, otherwise it’s pointless.”

Heeseung almost chokes on air when he rushes out his answer even before you can properly finish your sentence. “I do want it. Please, you have to believe me.” 

“Really?”

Heeseung smiles at you softly as he wipes your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Really. Scout’s honour.”

You breathe out, feeling relief, and look up at him with squinted, puffy eyes. “Sometimes I just wanna strangle you to death, Lee Heeseung.”

He chuckles lightly before pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Aren't you just so adorable? You should add this to your wedding vows.”

“Maybe I’ll add this to your eulogy instead if you pull shit like that again.”

Heeseung clicks his tongue with a grin pulling on his lips. “Touché.”

PARK JAY

The atmosphere in the living room is so heavy that your chest starts to hurt. You’re standing barely two steps away from the man you love the most, yet you’ve never felt more far away from him than in this moment. 

His eyes – cold but still undoubtedly full of love, drill holes in the side of your head as you turn your face away from him to try and gather your thoughts.

Arguments with Jay were rare. You always tried to work things out immediately, keeping your heads cool. But something has broken over the last month and you can’t see each other eye to eye anymore. At the very beginning of your relationship you made a promise to never go to bed angry. To never leave things unresolved. Yet now Jay’s been sleeping on the couch for the past week, and you fail to understand what the fuck has happened to the two of you. 

And you can’t help but think that, maybe, sometimes love is just not enough. 

“You’re not even trying to find the middle ground anymore. All you do is snap at me the second I come home. I’m fucking tired of it! Would it hurt to give it a rest for a day?” 

The tension is almost palpable. You hate how you can’t seem to back away from any argument but only keep hurting him instead. 

“Put effort into our relationship first, then we’ll talk,” you spit out instead, against your better judgment.

“It’s funny coming from you who’s done nothing but put a fucking distance between us!”

“This doesn’t make any sense anymore, Jay. We need some time apart,” you finally speak into the dull silence, eyes casted downwards at the floor as your hand keeps twitching, only to finally grab for your ring finger and slip the silver band off of it. You didn’t think much of your action, hell, you didn’t even process it properly. 

Well, not until you hear the shaky exhale leave Jay’s lips. 

Silently, he presses his lips together and nods his head before turning on his heel and leaving the room. You listen intently to the shuffling, then ringing of the keys and eventually the door being shut. 

A moment of silence turns into minutes of you staring at the ring on your palm with tears burning your eyes mercilessly. 

With your heart falling low to your stomach, you drop down on the couch and tug on your hair slightly, cursing yourself for acting so mindlessly. 

You wallow in self pity in the dead quiet room. The shiny ring feels so heavy and burning in your clenched fist. You take in a deep breath, then quickly slide the band back onto your finger, feeling instantly shielded with it being on its righteous place again.

And just like that, you spend the next three hours on the verge of losing your sanity. With no word from Jay. He’s left your messages unread. He’s left your calls unanswered. 

You don’t know whether he’s okay or hurt or simply gone. All that combined is enough to leave you panicked and terrified, unable to have a second of peace. 

You never meant to take it this far. This – your words and rapid actions, that will forever remain as one of your biggest regrets. You don’t like the idea that you made your other half feel like you’ve taken him for granted. Or for what’s worse, like a person that you can use for unloading your frustration on. 

There’s this throbbing pain in your chest as you realize that maybe he’s not coming back because why would he if you can’t even love him properly?

Your fingers are bleeding from how hard you’ve been picking on your cuticles. 

And then you hear the jingle of keys and soon the front door opens quietly. You know that even after all of this he’s still being careful to not wake you up. It’s killing you how he thinks you’d ever be able to get a wink of sleep without knowing he’s safe. 

You’re quick to drop your phone on the couch and shoot up on your legs, rushing over to the door and throwing yourself on Jay’s neck. 

“I was so worried about you!” You gasp out, clinging onto your fiancé desperately as tears unknowingly make their way down your cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do that again!”

“Sorry, my phone died,” he replies after a second or two, bringing his arm up to wrap around your waist and keep you close to him. 

He’s still upset but he understands where you’re coming from, knowing well that if it was you instead of him he’d probably go insane from worry. 

He can feel your heart hammering against his chest, so he lifts his hand and strokes your hair to help you calm down. But then you start crying, feeling his gentle touch even after everything you said, that was enough to push you over the edge. You clench your trembling hands on his sweater as you burst out with choked sobs, slouching against his warm and comforting body. 

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you weep into his chest like a mantra and Jay can quite literally feel his heart cracking at your miserable state. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, hot air hitting your ear before he presses a soft kiss to its tip. “Don’t cry anymore, honey. We’re okay.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you,” you whimper quietly. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“Don’t say that,” he scolds you with a frown. Your whimpers twist his guts even more than your harsh words from before. “It’s not the first nor the last time we’ll have an argument. It’s not worth losing your pretty head over it, okay?” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat one last time. “I promise I'll never take it off again. I’ll never lash out on you like that ever again too.”

Jay grabs your hand and runs his thumb over the thin silver band, the same one he was picking so carefully for weeks, and a small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. He hates how shameful you sound. 

He’ll never tell you how the sight of you pulling your ring off your finger made him physically sick to his stomach. He can't have you feeling even worse than you already do. So instead he brings you close to him and rests his forehead on yours. 

“I’m so stupid,” you whisper quietly as you close your eyes, your heavy eyelashes letting go of another few droplets of crystal tears which Jay’s lips soak up instantly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you actually left.”

“You know me better than to think I’d let us break it off over such a petty fight.” And, yes, you do. But your lip wobbles with silent agony at the sole thought of that. “Hey,” he tries again as he presses a loving kiss to your red nose. “I’m not leaving, okay? How could I ever?” 

“I love you.”

With his thumb caressing your burning cheek so tenderly, you feel at peace again.

“I love you too,” he replies without skipping a beat. “No one can handle you as well as I do. And no one sees me for me like you do. We complete each other. We belong together.”

He kisses you silly then, until there’s no more tears left in your body and you’re barely able to breathe anymore. He kisses you until your legs give in and he swoops you up to carry you into your shared bed for the first time in what seems like forever.

He kisses you until it engraves in your mind that there’s no other person for him in this world but you.

SIM JAKE

“Baby, I already apologized.” A groan lingers at the back of his throat but for his own sake he stifles it inside. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

You sit on the edge of your shared bed and clench your fingers on the silky duvet. “How about you start showing up to things we both agreed on attending to?”

He runs his hand down his face. “I know. It just slipped my mind, that’s all. You know how busy I’ve been this week.”

“This shouldn’t be my business only, though. I mean, for christ’s sake, it’s our wedding! I would really appreciate it if you participated in something for once!”

Flowers and cake. That’s literally all you’ve asked of him to go and pick with you for the wedding reception. Knowing his tight schedule, you picked the date carefully so that it wouldn’t meddle with his work and you could even go grab some dinner afterwards. But your plans all went out the window when he didn’t even bother showing up or giving you a heads up text, standing you up yet another time when it comes to your wedding preparations.

You’re honestly getting tired of it.

“I’ll be there next time,” he assures you quickly as he nervously taps his fingers on the doorway of your bedroom. 

“You said you wouldn’t do that,” your voice wavers as your shoulders drop with resignation. With the back of your hand, you wipe off the tears that made their way down your cheeks. “You promised to help, Jake. But you left me alone with everything, as usual.”

“It’s not even that big of a deal. This can be rescheduled any time. Baby, stop stressin’ so much.”

“But it is a big deal to me!” You cry out, palm reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You breathe out heavily. “I don’t want to do everything by myself! We’re supposed to be in this together! If getting married means that I’m gonna be alone with all the responsibilities that you don’t consider important enough, I’m not even sure I still want it.”

To back up your words, your hand moves half-consciously to your ring finger and you twist the cool piece of jewelry in between your fingers. 

“No, no, no, no.” Jake moves quickly, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes towards you to desperately clasp your hand in his two and stop you from whatever the hell you were about to do. He drops to his knees in front of the bed, right at your feet. “Baby, you promised you’d never take it off.”

You’re at a loss of words as you look into his wide eyes, the seriousness of your actions only catching up to you now. You gasp quietly, eyes watering just like his, quickly relaxing your tensed hand in his and letting him slide the ring back down your finger, just where it belongs.

Silence envelopes the two of you, besides the sound of your sniffles. 

You feel awful. 

Jake feels even worse. 

Leaning forward, you press your face to his shoulder and melt instantly when he brings a hand to caress your hair. 

“I'm sorry,” you whisper, clenching your hand to feel the cool ring against your skin. “I don't know why I did that. I didn't mean to.”

“I know,” he soothes you just as softly. He stands up from the floor and carefully maneuvers the two of you so that you’re placed on his lap as he sits with his back against the headboard. “It's my fault. I'm sorry. I never meant to disregard your feelings like that.”

At the end of the day, both of you would rather set themselves ablaze than watch the other one hurting. 

You nod silently, heart pounding in your chest before you bring your arms up and throw them over his neck.

“I’m sorry I was so impulsive.”

“No. You did nothing wrong.” His soothing voice carries over the room, enveloping you with warmth. “I promise I'll be here whenever you want me to from now on. I don’t want you to feel neglected by me, especially now when you’re this stressed over the wedding. I won’t let you down, again.” 

“I just need a little help, that’s all,” you mumble tiredly into his skin.

“I know.” His warm lips press to your forehead lovingly. “I’m sorry for being an insensitive douche. It won’t happen again. I’ll take some days off next week, hm?”

The tears on your face dry slowly as your hold on him tightens. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s done. I'll be all yours and you’ll be all mine then,” he hums and noses at your cheek, finally bringing out a small giggle out of you. After all these years, he still melts at the sound. “I won’t let things get this out of hand again, YN. I promise.”

“Okay,” you whisper. Tilting your head up and bringing his down towards you, you join your lips in a kiss that you’ve been longing for for days. His movements are slow and careful as he tries to soak up as much of the moment as possible. 

His kisses slowly put your broken pieces back together. He never knew how much seeing you cry like this would hurt him. And he’ll make damn sure he won’t ever have to experience that again for as long as you're with him.

“If I have a life to spend, it'll only be with you, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice to match yours, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand. “You're it for me. I'll never give you a chance to doubt that ever again.”

PARK SUNGHOON

“You’re never home! There’s always a hundred things more important to you than spending an hour of your time with me. Your fucking fiance! Are we really about to get married when you’re clearly so tired of me already?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally voice out everything that’s been sitting on your chest for the past month. Things have not been working out well with the two of you, much to your despair. He’s been neglectful, always too busy to help you with anything – even the wedding related things that you should’ve gotten done weeks ago. 

And you know that he’s swamped with work and it's not his fault. You understand everything. But to ask him to spare you an hour or two of his day shouldn’t be too much. It shouldn’t make him snap at you unlike what he just did the second he came back home. You slowly begin to lose your hope.

“God, have you always been this needy? Why can’t you accept that I can’t always put you first? No matter how much I’d want to, sometimes I just can’t! Deal with this!”

“Fucking- Fine.”

Your hand moves quicker than your brain, and the next thing you know, your shiny ring is being pulled off your finger and resting in the palm of your other hand. 

You can see the disbelief flashing through his face briefly before it completely morphs into a scowl. 

“You really think that this will solve the problem?” He asks, eyebrows narrowed as he glowers at you from across the room. “Really? Does that ring mean so little to you that you go and throw it away with any minor inconvenience?” 

You try to blink away the frustrated tears, hand raking up to brush your hair away from your face. “No, fuck, I just- I don’t know what to do anymore, Sunghoon. I feel like I’m the only one in this relationship. I need you to give me something more because whatever you’re doing now is not enough for me.”

“Well, I’m putting out everything I have, YN! I love you! If that’s still not good enough for you, then maybe it’s not meant to be.”

The silence that falls in the room doesn’t last long as your sudden sob pierces Sunghoon’s ears quickly, making his stomach drop to the soles of his feet. His heart wrenches and twists as the anger simmers down and evaporates from his body within a second, and he’s quickly coming back to his senses at the sight of you breaking down right in front of him. 

“Can’t you just try?” You cry into your hands, shielding your face away from your fiance. “That’s all I’m asking of you. Is it really so hard to try?”

No, it’s not. Sunghoon knows it without a second of thinking. It’s not too hard to try, never if it’s for you. And his throat dries so quickly when he basks in the weight of his words that finally made you break as well. 

“You don’t know how much it hurts to feel like you’re too much for your partner,” you wail with a small voice, shoulders trembling and hands quickly getting damp with tears. “You’ll never know how it is to feel unwanted, because you’ll never have to when you're with me. Because I love you, asshole, but now I’m doubting if you’re saying it back just for the sake of it.”

With air getting stuck in his throat, Sunghoon looks at you wide-eyed before quickly crossing the living room and enveloping you in his arms. His warmth wraps around you in what you've always considered to be safety, but now it just makes you cry more. 

He finds it hard to breathe. The hesitation in your eyes feels like a stab to his chest.

“Of course I still love you,” he says, voice muffled by your hair. 

He hates how he made you feel the opposite. He hates how you’re right and he never had to worry about any reassurement of such kind from your side because you’re just that good to him. And his heart breaks with the realization of how much of a lousy partner he’s been to you when all you ever were was nothing less than perfect.

So he places his hand on the back of your head and presses you even closer to his shoulder as you cry, his own eyes burning with tears at the sound of your sobs and sniffles. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling,” he apologizes with a heavy heart, fearful of what’s about to come next. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this much. I could say that I’m tired and the work has been a lot lately, but I know these excuses are not enough to make up for my actions.”

You’re mad and hurt, but you love him and would never want to give up on him, so you wrap your arms around his middle and hold him almost as tight as he holds you, burying your wet face in his chest. 

“I love you more than anything, YN.” He pulls away from you only to cup your face and make you look at him. His long fingers wipe away the tears with gentle touch, soothing your stinging skin instantly. “You could never be too much for me. I want all of you. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll love you better.”

And when you’re looking up at him with these shiny eyes of yours, he closes the distance and presses a loving kiss to your swollen lips, hoping to take at least some of the pain away. He doesn’t think he can hold you any tighter. He can’t love you any stronger than right now, and it messes with his head how easily he could’ve had it all ruined only minutes ago. 

He’ll never take your love for granted ever again. Because if he did, he’d never be able to pick up the parts of whatever was left of him, and put himself back together ever again. 

You can feel his warm hand opening your closed palm before he takes the ring you've been clutching so tightly and holds it in between his fingers. 

“Can I put it back on, baby? Please.”

You nod wordlessly while you try to tame your tears. You hold your slightly trembling hand up to him. He takes it, gently, and watches as your bottom lip wobbles while he slides the ring on your finger just like he did months ago. 

“I'll never screw up like that again. You have my word for it.”

You sniffle quietly when he kisses you right on the cool band adorning your skin. “You better not, Park Sunghoon.”

His long fingers caress your cheek, wiping the remains of the tears away. “Can you forgive me, darling?”

You don't need to think long of an answer. “You know I can never stay mad at you. Even if you're a idiot, I'll never stop loving you. You have my whole heart, Hoon. Please, don't ever make me regret trusting you with it.”

permanent taglist + taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @seongclb @iamnotalicia

© heeliopheelia 2024 // ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT copy, translate or repost any of my works on any other social platforms.

[2hightocare]

ACQUAINTANCES!

Synopsis: Jungkook and you can only stand each other whenever you guys are fucking, well that’s what you guys thought initially.

Parings: fuckboy!jungkook x fuckgirl!reader

Genre: college au! fwb! e2l!

Warnings: smut!! Open ending, no confession. Rough sex, unprotected sex (pls wrap it) Smut with just a tiny bit of plot if you squint, reader is a squirter (sorry not sorry) daddy/mommy kink, cussing, blowjob, reader crying from pleasure, jk is a dirty talker, banter, a lot of bickering from both of them, cute fluff at the end for Valentine’s Day!

a/n: hai my loves, i disappeared for a while.. I’ve been really busy with school at the moment. But I wrote this short pwp for all of you as a valentines gift before I lag again.. I’m trying to write an actual f1 driver!jk fic right now so sorry if I’m not updating as much…. But anywho enjoy my little gift<3⭐️

“That’s my good girl, fuck." He plunges deeper into you, hitting your spot repeatedly. His hand lays on your head, pushing you down into the mattress, your makeup smudged from sucking his cock, and tears stream down your face.

“Right there, baby, that’s it.” Jungkook pounds into you from behind; your legs are shaking, trying so hard not to give out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his cock spreads your walls deliciously. “Agh fuck.” You moan loudly, your mouth hanging open, drool spilling out onto the white sheets.

You reach behind you, pushing him off you. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he watches your legs shake. Your breaths are heavy, and you are trying so hard to catch your breath. “Take it off.” You whine about the condom; you reach for Jungkook's cock and pull on the clear condom, taking it off.

“Want me to fuck you, raw princess?” Jungkook groans, grabbing the base of his cock, giving your pussy a few slaps with his length, making you clench over nothing. Jungkook uses one of his arms to pick you up and turn you around, your back pressed against the comfortable mattress. “Feels good, huh?” He asks as he slowly rubs your swollen, aching clit with his thumb. Jungkook watches your expression, your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes cloudy, trying so hard to keep them open, his hand reaching to your tear-stained cheeks, squeezing them, making your mouth form a kiss.

“What do you say?” Jungkook asks as you slowly nod your head. You were fucked dumb, and he knew that, which made him chuckle softly. He could tell from how you couldn’t even answer the question or even fight him for it like you usually do.

“Speak up; use your words, baby.” Jungkook smirks, giving your cheeks a light slap before squeezing them again. “Feels so good.” You slur, and you squeeze your legs together to relieve some of the tension your center is feeling. You have come four times now, and Jungkook none.

“Good girl.” Jungkook says before helping you sit up as he leans against the header, his hard laying on his stomach. Jungkook is packed, to say the least; even when he’s soft, you can see his imprint in his underwear.

It scared you at first when he pulled it out because, how the fuck was that going to fit in you? You swear you almost got up and left. 

“That’s not going to fit.” You say, your pointer finger pointing at his thick length in his hand. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jungkook chuckles, and you give him a glare back instead, showing that you are serious. “It’s going to fit; we’ll make it fit, baby.” He grins. "Plus, you can take four fingers; you’ll be fine.” He comes closer to you and says, "It’ll feel so good, I promise.” He whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your back.

You crawl your way to him, stopping between his legs; his eyes bore into yours. “You’re so pretty.” He compliments you, swiping his thumb on your bottom lip. “Fuck off, you just want your dick sucked.” You roll your eyes, grabbing the base of his cock. Your small hand, not even being able to wrap around his cock, always sent Jungkook a sense of pride to his chest.

“Gon’ suck daddy’s cock?” Jungkook moves your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “If you call yourself daddy one more time, I will bite your dick; don’t try me.” You glare up at him. "Well, isn’t she back? Not even five minutes ago, you were calling me daddy.” Jungkook chuckles at your expression. You looked hot with his cock inches away from your face, slightly twitching, waiting to be sucked.

You and Jungkook had history; to say the least, you both kind of hated each other. If it wasn’t because he said something you didn’t like, it was because he breathed a little too loudly around you. 

Just something about his smug face looking at you and throwing snarky comments had you wanting to claw your acrylics into his skin. Which was something Jungkook loved; he loved watching you roll your eyes every time you saw him, and he absolutely loved it when you fought back with him.

You had no clue how you ended up throwing insults at him every five seconds whenever he would show up anywhere; you would say it was because he was a man whore. You heard from every girl on campus how good he fucked but left right after coming, or if they were lucky, he left before they woke up. But honestly, that really doesn’t matter now that you’re in his bed getting your guts rearranged almost every seven days of the week by him.

Jungkook doesn't hate you; he just loves challenging you. Plus, he thought the only way he could find himself talking and being closer to you meant arguing; he would take it. You are well known on campus as well; his friends warned him about you, but you were just his type. So who was he to throw out the possibility of having you in his bed?

You didn’t even know how you ended up becoming friends with benefits—something along the lines of a frat party, an angry make-out session, and sex in someone’s bed. Jungkook fucked you so good; you are hundred percent sure you passed out and saw stars.

What were strictly professional meetings? how you like to call them? Turned into sleepovers, hanging out, cuddling, and calling each other cute nicknames. You guys still fought; it was more like bickering now. What you both weren’t looking for was a catching feeling; it started as having sex whenever one of you was horny, but now you find yourself wanting to be with each other regardless if you guys’ had sex or not.

“Now I don’t want to suck your dick after you called yourself daddy; that’s such an ick.” You scrunch your nose, giving his cock a tug, making him bite his lip with a laugh.

“That’s an ick? Ick when you told me to call you mommy like a month ago.” Jungkook recalls making your eyes widen. “Stop, I was drunk.” You whine, rolling your eyes. “We both said we wouldn’t bring it up, plus I said it as in sugar mommy.” You try to explain yourself as Jungkook smiles down at you. 

“Sugar mommy? I pay for everything, so just shut  up." Jungkook chuckles, grabbing ahold of his cock, giving it a pump.

You only follow his movements with your eyes as your pussy oozes with your juices, your wetness dripping down your thighs. Jungkook presses his cock to your cheek before slapping it multiple times. “My favorite view—imagine this, but on my lock screen." Jungkook jokes, which makes you glare at him. “In your dreams.” You say.

“It’s definitely in my dreams,” he groans. Jungkook moves his dick to your lips before patting his length on them. “Open.” He orders, which you immediately do, taking his tip into your mouth.

"Agh,” he chokes in a moan as you suck on the swollen tip. You replace his hands with yours pumping in his shaft while you try to take as much as you can down your throat. “Fuck.” Jungkook throws his head back, and you bob your head up and down his cock.

“So big.” You breathe out before returning to bob your head at a fast pace. Drool accumulates in your cheeks, dripping down Jungkook's cock. “Don’t boost my ego more, baby.” Jungkook howls; his tattooed hand gets a hold of your head before pushing it down. You gag on his cock, but Jungkook doesn’t care as he continues to fuck into your mouth. “Aw shit, shit shit.” Jungkook moans with each thrust into your warm mouth.

Tears run down your cheeks as Jungkook uses your mouth. Your hands rest on his hip bones, tapping slightly whenever you need to breathe. “Right there, baby, that’s it.” Jungkook mumbles, his cock twitching in your mouth, meaning he’s close. Before he could come, he pulled your head off of him with a loud pop. Strings of saliva and pre-cum connect your mouth and his cock.

“Fuck!” Jungkook pumps his cock hurriedly, his eyes shut as strings of curse words leave his mouth. “Where do I come? Shit.” Jungkook moans, his abs flexing as his hips lift up with each thrust into his hand. “Tits.” You wipe your mouth, positioning yourself in front of him before he shoots strings of his sticky cum on your round boobs. “Ahh fuck.” Jungkook chokes on another moan, giving his cock one last pump.

His chest heaves as he tries so hard to catch his breath, peeking an eye open and seeing you on your knees with your tits adorned with his cum. You giggle at his state. “I think you just boosted my ego by putting ‘expert at giving head' in my resume.” You joke as his chest rumbles with laughter.

“The head game is strong. Who taught you that?” Jungkook asks, and an inch of jealousy pikes his chest as he thinks about you ever giving a blowjob to someone else that wasn’t him. “Myself, you can do so much with a dildo.” You flutter your eyelashes at him, running your hands down his chest. His cock twitches as he watches you lay back down on the bed, your legs spread open as an invitation.

“Have I told you how good of an idea it was to get this mattress? Yeah, this one is a lot nicer,” Jungkook says as he starts to hover over your much smaller frame. “Whenever we fuck, it doesn’t leave me with back pain,” he moans when he easily slides his cock in you from how wet you are, a sharp moan that leaves your throat.

“It's al- also comfy.” You moan between deep breaths as his cock hits your g-spot. “Yeah, yeah, whatever it’s comfortable to sleep on,” he chuckles as his eyes flutter shut when you clench around him, sending him deeper into you.

“Shit! tightest pussy ever.” His grip tightens on your thighs, which are pushed up by him. “Do you see how pretty your pussy looks being filled with my cock?” He motions to his length, buried deep inside you. The noticeable bulge on your tummy has him wanting to ram inside you without restraint. 

He watches as you just hum with your eyes closed, “I said look.” Jungkook's hand gets a hold of your hair, pulling you upward, making you see his cock in you.

“I’m going to get a cramp because of you.” You moan as you watch his cock slowly slide out, making the bulge disappear before reappearing again when he slammed back, making your eyes shut with a scream. “You’ll be fine,” he laughs before slamming into you. The grip on your hair doesn’t loosen as your eyes vision is just his cock sliding in and out of your pussy over and over again.

“Open your eyes; come on, baby.” He gives your hair a little tug, making your eyes shoot open with your mouth wide open. “Fuck! Prettiest view, huh?” Jungkook's hips slam into you repeatedly.

“Ah, cramp,” you moan as he lets go of your hair, making you drop onto the mattress with a shake. His movements didn’t halt as he continued to fuck into you. 

Jungkook holds onto your legs before powering into you. Your hands grip onto the sheets as the moans flow out of your mouth uncontrollably. Jungkook spreads your legs open before pressing his palm on your lower belly on his bulge, sending a sense of shock through your body. Jungkook feels your pussy tighten, which only meant one thing, “I’m going to squirt, oh fuck.” You rush out, trying so hard to push him off.

Jungkook found out you were squirted when he fucked you in the bathroom at a Christmas party. Your red skirt lifted up to your ass, and your Santa Claus hat held on for dear life with each thrust he slammed into you. You didn’t expect to leave the bathroom with a drenched shirt; you only laughed at his reaction.

Jungkook pulls out immediately, inserting three of his fingers in you before pounding them in and out of you. Your body spasms with each curl of his fingers inside you, sending spurts of liquid out of you with a scream. Your eye vision went blurry, and as your head went lightheaded from the immense pleasure you were feeling, your hands gripped so tightly on the sheets that they went white.

“Are you breathing?” Jungkook chuckles at your spent body on his bed. He gives your pussy a small slap before kissing your cheek. "Mhm,” you pout, closing your legs, which has him laughing before he stands up and makes his way to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” You peek an eye open, watching him put on his boxers, his dick still hard from your guys previous activities. “I'm getting you a towel and clothes, princess.” Jungkook enters his bathroom, picking up a clean towel before making his way beside you.

“Let me clean you; spread." Jungkook taps on your thigh. You cover your face as he cleans you up. Small moans leave your mouth from the oversensitivity. You felt comfortable letting Jungkook do these things for you; even though they were super intimate, it didn’t feel wrong when Jungkook did it.

“All clean, let me help you put this on.” He motions to your pink panties you left a week ago in his house. Just thinking of Jungkook washing your underwear made your chest ache. "Up,” he says to your arms as he puts his black shirt over you.

“You didn’t come,” you say, looking at his erection. "It doesn’t matter; it’ll go away. Are you craving anything so I can DoorDash?” Jungkook skips over your question. “Wings..?” You pout as Jungkook picks you up and places you on the chair in his room as he changes the wet sheets for a new set.

“Order some; my phone is over there.” He points to his phone on the nightstand. Your heart skipped a beat. Not ever did one of your exes ever let you touch their phones, so for Jungkook to tell you to get his phone like nothing made your heart speed up, even if you both didn’t establish the boyfriend and girlfriend label.

Let’s just say you ended your night with wings in bed and a cute man cuddling with you all night until the morning.

[wishlistcharles]

secrets we keep (pt1) → mv1

max verstappen x perez!fem reader

genre: one night stand, teammates sister, pregnancy

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, slight spit play, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything

word count: 3.1k

song: too sweet - hozier

sidenote: hi everyone! finally a new fic is here and it's a max one! this is going to be a two parter, so keep an eye out for the next one! please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic (I write for all drivers), also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3

♡♡♡♡

The roars of the crowd were loud as Max crossed the finish line, followed closely by Sergio. For a second there you had thought your brother would overtake the world champion, but nonetheless he fought hard and gave the team what they wanted, a 1-2 finish. 

It wasn’t often you got to go to your brother's races, maybe only a handful a year but you were lucky to be able to get the time off to join your niece and nephews for the Japanese Grand Prix. Sergio would topple over if he knew you had the hots for his teammate. Every time you have met with Max, it’s been very cordial. Polite hellos, asking how life in Mexico is, what you have been up to since he last saw you. 

A part of you wondered why he was so timid with you. Was it because of Sergio? Being the baby of the family left him feeling protective of you, but you don’t think that would affect how Max interacted with you. I mean you barely saw him. 

Watching the pair on the podium set tears in your eyes. You were extremely proud of your big brother and his teammate. 

Your dad absolutely adored max and had invited him to join us for a celebratory dinner after the race. Which to your surprise he happily accepted. 

You were staying at the same hotel that both the bulls were at, so reconnecting for dinner would not be difficult. After the race you decided to head back to freshen up and change your clothes into something a little more fancy. At the race you were wearing a white tennis skirt with a red bull polo tucked in. For dinner you decided to wear a  black  over the shoulder dress that fit you perfectly. Finally ready you walk down and see that only Max is waiting in the lobby. Your stomach turns at the thought of being alone with him.

Picking his head up from looking down at his phone he notices you walking toward him and waves shyly. “Hi y/n, looks like it’s only us ready” he said in a tiny voice. You are always so used to him being outspoken it kinda scares you a little. “hi maxie, you know how my family is with time management, they should be down here soon” you said with a laugh, not even acknowledging the nickname that slipped from your mouth. 

A sudden tinge of pink washes over Max’s cheeks and you feel heat radiating up your neck. Act cool, you keep telling yourself but you are so nervous. Max was all you ever wanted in a guy. Handsome, sweet, confident, the list could go on. You knew deep down though your worlds would never clash well. You lived in Mexico with your parents - working as a teacher. Max lived in Monaco and raced for one of the best teams in formula one history, surrounded by models throwing themselves at him. You couldn’t blame them, you would do the same, if you thought you ever had a chance. 

“No worries, I always have to wait for Checo to come to our team meetings” he laughed. “I bet, if there’s one thing my brother isn’t know for it’s being on time, thank you for coming to dinner with us though, we really appreciate it, I know my dad and brother do a lot”

With a smirk on his face something shifts “oh just your dad and brother, not you?”. You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs, just as you are about to open your mouth to respond, tiny roars make notice in the room and you almost fall at your nephew running to you, so you could pick him up. Silently you thank your nephew for the interruption. 

Dinner goes smoothly. You sat at the opposite end of the table with the kids, while your brother, dad, and max were deep in conversation. You swore that Max kept looking at you though, sneaking glances. 

As the check gets situated, all of you make your way out onto the busy streets of Japan. You hear your brother speak up “Y/N are you gonna come get ice cream with us” and while you were deeply contemplating it, you decided to pass up the offer and head back to the hotel. 

“No I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel and pack, I want to take the kids to get breakfast tomorrow morning before we leave” you say.

“no puedes caminar solo es tarde en la noche” (you can't walk alone, it's late at night) your brother worries. 

“Sergio, I'm fine, it's not that far from the hotel, I'll grab a taxi” before he could protest, Max jumped in.

“I can take a taxi back with y/n, I'm super tired after the race, and I'll make sure she makes it to her hotel room” 

“Are you sure Max?” Sergio asks.

“Yes I'm sure, it was a lovely evening, thank you for inviting me” 

Your family bids their farewells and walks away, leaving just the two of you waiting for a taxi. As you guys are picked up, you both don't say a word in the car, sitting in an uncomfortable silence. Max pays the driver and you thank him quietly. Making your way up to the floor where both of your rooms are, you stop at his first. “Thank you for bringing me back Max, I appreciate it” 

“Of course it's no problem, hey I'm actually not really that tired, do you wanna play Fifa or watch a movie?” he asks. Something deep down is telling you to decline. Spending time with him is just going to dig you deeper in a hole with how you feel about him, nonetheless, you can't let this opportunity go and accept this offer. 

Walking in you notice the room is ten times bigger than yours, with a balcony and jacuzzi tub in the middle of the bathroom. Max must notice your awe because he says “I don't know why they give us such big rooms, we are hardly ever even in here”

“Haha it's nice for Checo because the kids get to play around” 

“You are really close with them, aren't you?”

“They are practically my own, when their mom is out doing business I usually keep them, I also help homeschool them” 

“Well that's very sweet of you” he says while taking a seat on the bed, while motioning you to do the same.

“Do you want something to drink” he offers

“No I'm okay” you politely decline. You still can't believe this, you are in Max Verstappen's room all alone. 

“Okay let's put on a movie! What are you up for, should we do action” you sense a sudden shift in his mood, you can't quite place it, maybe excitement. You believe he can probably sense that you are nervous. The mention of action makes your ears perk up.“Can we please watch fast and the furious, I am on a mission to have all my friends watch it”

Max doesn't protest, just laughs quietly and nods, setting the movie in place. You make yourself comfortable and take off your big hoop earrings and heels- even though they werent big by any means they still hurt you. Once you are back in bed with him, you notice him looking at you.

“Is there something on my face?” You laugh

“No i just guess I never noticed how different but similar you look from checo”

“Really? How so?” You question

“Well for one, you are very pretty, but you have the same freckles that Checo does covering your cheeks and nose” Max’s comment has you feeling shy, you know you must be sporting a prominent blush across your face and neck. 

“well thank you Max, it's funny because growing up, i never had freckles, but i think being out in the sun for races and the kids karting tournaments have really brought them to surface” 

“That's interesting, I admire how close to your family you are, something I wish I had” he says so quietly you almost miss it. You don't know what possesses you to do this but you place your hand over his and say “you are always welcome in this family max, we all love you, and no matter where sergio goes next year- you will always be welcomed with open arms” 

He stares at you with a blank face- unable to tell what he's thinking you begin to think that was the wrong thing to say when suddenly he leans down a plants a gentle kiss over your lips. You gasp at the touch. Max pulls back with wide eyes and says “shit I shouldn't have done that, Checo will kill me if he found out”. Instead of agreeing with him, you keep your hand held tightly over his and whisper “he doesn't have to know”. That's all it seems to take for max to lean back in and start kissing you. 

You grab the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric in your hands. His palm cups your jaw, slowly deepening the kiss. Once his tongue makes his way in, you let out a quiet moan. 

Grabbing your hips, Max shifts your position so that you are laying on the bed while he towers over you. “You are so pretty y/n, been wanting to do this forever” he says while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. While you want to pour your heart out, your nerves stop you and all you can do is nod and say “want you so bad max”. 

He continues to kiss you, tracing his mouth up and down your neck and along the junction between your shoulder and neck placing feather-like kisses. There’s nothing more that you want then for him to leave a big bruise plastered for everyone to see but you knew that wasn’t possible. 

You grab his head and place your lips back on his. Moving his hand to your hair he grips it tightly, keeping you in his control. Slowly he rocks his hips down to meet yours, creating a union of moans to spill from the both of you. This must be the breaking point for max because he stops to take off his shirt and grabs your dress to do the same. Not before asking “is this okay”. 

“Of course it’s okay, I want all of you” you whisper out. His pants also come off in the process. Both of you left in your underwear. You could feel yourself soaked through your panties. Max moves his hand so that his thumb is slowly running along your slit through the fabric. A moan is pushed out of you with a quiet plea of more. 

Growing impatient you tug the straps of your bra down your shoulders exposing your breasts to him. This catches his attention because Max is on them immediately. Sucking and kissing them, basically worshiping them. “Fuck, these tits are perfect. They were practically popping out of your dress earlier, wanted to take you to the bathroom at the restaurant and just suck on them for hours” 

You would have never guessed Max to be into dirty talk but it’s a pleasant surprise. “I want you in me Max, please, I’ve been waiting for this” 

“How can I deny such a pretty girl? '' With that being said, Max gets up and walks to his bag to pull out what seems to be a condom. While he’s doing that, you shimmy your underwear down your legs and throw it somewhere in the room. Before he approaches the bed, Max takes his underwear off and you see his cock spring free. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight. He’s big, just like you thought he would be. Pale and veiny. Pink and wet at the tip.

You wanted him in you but not before you got a taste of him. You motion him up towards your mouth, so that his legs are on both sides of your shoulders. “I want to taste you, can I Max?” You said hoping your voice and eyes truly show the desire you have burning for him. 

“Go ahead sweetie, suck me off”

That’s all you needed to hear before taking the tip in your mouth, lightly sucking. Max groans at the sensation and places a hand behind your head for support. Popping yourself off the tip, you lick a long strip under his shaft, following the prominent vein that lies there. You place feather-like kisses on the head hoping to tease him. As you look up at him, you see his mouth slightly agape, eyes stuck on you. “Don't tease me baby, c'mon”.

You start to bob your head, up and down, making sure you move your tongue back and forth. You palm at his balls and hear a hiss, thinking he must be sensitive. 

“Fuck, you suck me off so good, this mouth was made for me, wasn't it y/n” 

You whimper at the words and try to push yourself further down his cock. Grabbing your head, he pulls you off and says “I need to get in you”. 

You nod your head fast and practically beg “please Max, please want you in me”.

As he positioned himself between your legs, he's looking directly at your core, you start to feel a bit insecure and try to close your legs, but he uses both his to keep them open. “You have such a pretty pussy, want to absolutely devour it” what he does next has you almost combust. He hovers his mouth over your core and lets a string of spit come done to coat you. Taking his index and middle finger he holds you open and lets another drop of spit fall on you. You are moaning so loud, you place your hand over your mouth to try and keep yourself quiet. 

Max places two fingers in you while simultaneously rubbing slow circles over your clit. You are desperate for him to get in you. “Max I'm good, you can get in me”.

That's all he needs to hear before he puts his condom on and sinks into you. The burn is unlike anything you have felt before. You were definitely not used to his size but the stretch was addicting. As he builds up pace, you place your hands over his back, your fingernails gripping onto his shoulders, it feels so so good. “Faster” you whisper. Max listens. You could already feel the coil in your stomach about to snap, what pushes you over the edge is Max’s dirty talk. “You wrap around me so good, best pussy I've ever had, what would people think if they saw my roommate's sister coming all over my cock” you can't respond, all you can do is moan.

Finally catching your breath you say “you feel so good Max, you are gonna make me cum” and you tuck your head into his neck licking a fat stripe near his Adams apple. “I'm gonna come too, come with me y/n”.

The next couple of minutes go by in a blur, you feel yourself clenching on his cock, cumming while he pumps in and out of you with his hand rubbing at your clit. He kisses you hard as he groans into your mouth. “Fuck that was good” he states and all you can do is nod. 

Max takes off his condom, and goes to the bathroom, returning in his underwear, with a warm washcloth. You feel embarrassed but you let him clean you up. You are left undressed so you ask if he could hand you your dress. The room is filled with an awkward tension. Max can tell because he lays down on the bed and pats it for you to lay with him. 

You feel like you should decline and be on your way, not wanting to overstay your welcome. But you genuinely don't think this will ever happen again and want to cherish what little time you have in the same proximity.  You lay with your head on his chest and his arm thrown over you with the tv playing in the background. Time passes quickly and within 30 minutes you hear soft snores coming out of max. You take this as your cue to leave. You slip yourself away and gather your belongings. Taking one last glance at him you smile and quietly make your way out of the room. 

You don't have a lot of time to reflect once you get back to your room because you have to shower, and pack for your flight in the morning. You don't know if you and Max will ever reconnect like that, but you are grateful for the time you shared. 

You don't see or hear from Max before you leave Japan, but maybe it's for the best. Your brother didn't expect anything and you are determined to keep it that way. 

The first couple of weeks back in Mexico were rough, slowly recovering from your trip. Around 6 weeks after being home and two more grand prix taking place, you feel sick, like a stomach bug has really knocked you down. It was so bad that you weren't able to go to the Miami gp like you wanted. 

Deciding it has been lingering for far too long you decide to go to the doctor. The first thing they ask you is if it's possible if you are pregnant. Your first thought is no, but you remember you and Max had hooked up around two months ago. You feel a pit in your stomach and your heart rate speeds up. You couldn't be right, he wore a condom, and you hadn't had sex for like a year prior to that. 

After you take your pee test, you have never been more scared or felt more alone. You want your mom here. After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came in with a smile and sat down. “Congratulations y/n you are pregnant”. The world came to a stand still and all you can do is cry. 

Because how in the hell are you going to tell your brother you are pregnant with his teammate's baby. How are you going to tell Max that you are pregnant? 

Simple. You won't. 

[celesteleoves]

“IM SORRY, I DIDNT MEAN IT.”

.ೃ࿐ GOJO SATORU X fem!reader

summary: satoru comes home tired and exhausted, so exhausted he lets words slip that he didn’t mean.

warnings: gojo yells at reader but doesn’t do anything otherwise, reader cries a bit, profanities, reader thinks gojo is going to get aggressive (he never would), angst at the start and fluff at the end!

a/n: first jjk drabble, cut me some slack pls 🧎‍♀️ —

he never got angry, he never let his frustrations out on others, he was always composed and energetic.

that’s how you would describe your boyfriend satoru gojo, he was cheerful and always lightened up your household in seconds the moment he entered it and when he left, it felt empty.

you knew how it is in the sorcerer world: hard, exhausting, draining, frustrating, and sometimes enjoyable. but satoru always pushed through how exhausted he felt and gave you a big smile when he got home.

but today, gojo would be too tired to keep up a cheerful front and was just exhausted. he was so drained from the countless missions he’s had this week he was bound to snap at one point.

you prayed he wouldn’t snap at you, though.

bustling around you and gojos shared kitchen, you made his favourite meal and desert, happily making it in hopes it’ll cheer up your tired lover.

you finished making his favourites and were about to call him to see when he’d be home when the front door opened, shutting with a click of a lock and the sound of gojos keys clanking as he threw them on a nearby surface.

“satoru! you’re home just in time.” your soft voice normally would’ve had satoru jumping off the walls but everything was off today. satoru hater how he was feeling.

he was irked at everything, he even snapped on nanami which left the blonde staring at the white haired man in shock as gojo stood up and walked away from the other sorcerer.

“yeah.” gojo lazily mumbled as he shoved past you, walking towards your fridge and getting himself a cup of water.

frowning, you ignored his actions and began talking about the meal you made as gojo added ice to his glass of water.

stop talking, just stop. gojo let out a quiet groan as you happily talked about your day. too bad he couldn’t reciprocate your energy, he was so angry at everything.

his lanky body moved towards your dining room table, flopping down on one of the chairs as he spread his legs to feel comfortable. placing the cup down, he held the bridge of his nose as you practically yelled to him about dinner from the kitchen.

you hadn’t noticed how aggravated he seemed with your voice and instead continued making a plate of food for him while telling him facts about your day and who you had seen while visiting jujustu tech, only to not find him there (he was on a mission, AGAIN).

“and so, i made your favourite! i know you really like this dish and these are your favourite sweets, so i bought some of those and…”

your voice was blaring in gojos head as you walked over to him, holding his plate in your hands with a smile on your face.

his eyes were worn out, sullen and dark as they stared at you from his hands.

he couldn’t handle this, he was going to snap.

“can you just fuck off already? just… shut up!” he growled, his words taking extra long for you to register as you began to stutter, small tears forming at your waterline as you blinked at gojo.

gojo looked up at you after noticing the silence, only to see you shaking. the plate of food in your hands looked as if it was about to tip over and create a mess on the floor. the plate of food YOU made just for HIM.

your boyfriends eyes widened as he watched you clumsily place his plate down infront of him and back away from his sitting form.

“i- um, im sorry, satoru. i’ll give you space.” you mumbled as you tried to hold in your emotions. your actions showed you felt fear, you were scared of him in this moment because he did not look like your satoru.

satorus eyes widened as he felt his heart drop. did he seriously just do that? why would he do that? why did he yell at you like that when all you were trying to do was be there for him and keep him filled with joy during tough times like these.

he watched you sway and shake as you walked away, his legs moving quicker than he expected as he hugged you from behind.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” satoru whispered into your neck as his arms latched around your waist.

you froze, turning around and looking at your exhausted boyfriend clearly.

he looked so tired, so drained you almost didn’t recognize him. you scolded yourself internally for not noticing it sooner.

your heart softened at the sight of your first and last lover crumbling in your arms as he apologized profusely.

“shh, it’s okay ‘toru. i shouldn’t have been all over you when you needed space.”

“no, i should’ve let you. i need you more than ever.”

his voice shook as he spoke, looking up at you while scanning your face. you looked so gorgeous, so pretty for him today and he felt awful that he didn’t tell you that as soon as he stepped foot through the door.

“it’s okay, baby. i get it.” you smiled at him as he let a soft smile grow on his lips that were in a frown.

“lookin’ so stunning today, sweets. you’re amazing.” he grinned at you as you jokingly rolled your eyes.

“thank you, i know.” you teased him as he pulled you into a kiss, slow and lovingly before beginning to tell you about everything that happened with him this week.

you both sat at your dining room table as you occasionally fed satoru his food and added onto his words while he talked about missions, his students, and more.

you two loved eachother, and no matter how stressed out or drained you are; you made a deal to always be there for eachother, no hiding anything.

.ೃ࿐

please leave tips, requests, or anything of the sort! i’m open to any requests or suggestions 🤍 enjoy babes.

[wonryllis]

candy, you're like a drug (m) | sim jaeyun.

PREVIEW. where jake teaches you how to blow him behind the bleachers just before his soccer practice, unable to resist the charm of you in a cheerleader outfit. well it's not like he has to resist you anymore, you are finally officially his girl.

FEATURING. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader(candy) from WATERMELON SUGAR . . this can absolutely be read as a standalone but i would still suggest giving the full fic a read, if you like this.

WORD COUNT. 3140 edited but don't come at me.

WARNINGS. SMUT MDNI!!!!! blowjob obviously, face fucking, dacryphilia, corruption kink, handjob, reader's a crybaby kinda, pussy rubbing but brief, mentions of eating pussy, voyeurism slightly, jake's mind is literally a museum of dirty thoughts about you. he's way too obsessed with you, he swears a lot and cums a lot, hand in hand. jake is real sweet trust. psst! sunghoon thrid wheeling oh. and that's all i think? idk if it's good i hope y'all like it!

★ YEONIE NOTES. this took so long im sorry guys, pls enjoy and leave comments and feedback i'd love to know your thoughts and yes im still open to doing more drabbles for them!

cheerleader… not a bad idea, you could definitely make use of it

“oh my god candy, you're gonna be the death of me!” jake pulls you away, dragging you to the back of the bleachers, his cock already rock hard and throbbing with need.

“don't you like it? i thought cheerleaders dressed like this,” you pout at him, fiddling with the ends of the literally shortest skirt of your closet.

“i love it baby, but you can't just show up to practice like that, how am i gonna be able to concentrate when all i can think of you is fucking you,” he groans scanning over your figure again and again, it's like you brought out a hidden desire he didn't even know he had. he'd win every game for you if you were to cheer by the stands like this, the adrenaline of getting to ruin your perfect outfit and your perfect makeup after, putting him on a winning streak.

“teach me to suck you off,” jake loses his mind when you get down on your knees, pushing your hair out of the way and looking up at him through your lashes, doe eyes driving him crazy.

“shit baby, i will,” oh he's so going to corrupt you.

“let me just put this down f’ you,” taking off his varsity jacket immediately, he spreads two fold on the ground, pressing his hands on it to make sure it's cushioned enough for you. being glad of the fact that he hadn't taken the jacket off for the practice before you came to give him the surprise.

. .

“you okay baby? do your knees hurt too much?” he asks once it settles in that you are doing this here and right now. heart pounding against his ribs so hard, he feels it ringing in his ears. his eyes cast down to the place your knees meet the rough ground and he internally grimaces and scolds himself for letting your soft skin scrap against dirt like this.

you smile sweetly at his actions, moving onto the jacket and letting your knees rub against the same cloth you watched him wash just yesterday. his precious jacket that he always took extra care of.

“so? how do i do it?” jake’s eyes quiver, orbs darkening as the lust takes over. blood rushing down quick at the dirty insinuation behind the innocent words that leave your mouth. drunk on the way you already seem so into it.

“take it out first,” he tries not to falter and just moan his heart out when you already jump at pulling his pants and boxers down before he's even finished speaking. holding his breath while he watches you watch his cock slap against his lower abs and then reach out to gently grasp it. mouth instinctively slacking open when he twitches in your grip and slowly bringing him close. a wet smooch at the tip that makes his whole body shudder and release a thick glob of precum, confusing you if he just came, your eyes instantly shooting up to look at him to which he just nods his head telling you to go on. put it in your mouth. his gaze speaks, air dense with anticipation.

“go on baby⁠— fuckkkkk oh god,” fuck fuck fuck, it feels way too good, cock laying heavy against your hot tongue, the softness of your mouth inside feeling like a tight pouch of warmth engulfing him in the most pleasurable way possible.

“just s-suck on it like your lollies,” jake groans, uttering the words through his clenched teeth. just a minute into you trying to give him head and he already feels like busting a nut. god how long has he dreamt of this exact moment and how many times. how many dreadful nights of fisting his cock imagining it was your tiny warm mouth around him, sucking him hard and sloppy like you do with those watermelon lollipops all the damn time in front of him. those torturing times, oh he can't believe he survived it to actually know what it feels like to be inside your mouth.

his hair sticks to his forehead, feeling the sweat drip as he breathed hard with every experimental suck. hands reaching down to push the strands of hair that fall forwards away from your face. thumb caressing your the skin under your eyes as you look up and into his brown orbs. holding eye contact with a dazed doe look that drives him crazy. the touch of your small hands stroking what you can't seemingly fit inside, lips always coming back to suck on his tip, like slurping dripping candy. he felt crazed, insane, and lunatic for still craving so much more of you.

“yeah fuck candy, just like that,” he pants, head tilting back as he gasps for air, everything around him tuning out at the realization of having you on your knees for him.

“shit!” the sudden feeling of you gagging around him after trying to take him all in makes jake jerk forward in a shudder.

it doesn't take him another second to decide that, that's it. he can't control himself anymore and absolutely needs to fuck your mouth, push so deep into your throat it leaves the imprints of his cock and make you so cock drunk all you ever think about when you gulp is him him and just him.

“push my thighs if gets too much—” one of his hands thread into your hair in a makeshift half pony to hold your head firmly and the other squeezing below his tip hard to hold himself from nutting before he gets to the real thing, wanting to drag this out even though he knows sooner or later someone will come searching for him, noticing the quaterback’s absence the moment one pays a tad bit of attention.

jake has never been the one to skip practice and especially not for something indecent like this. being late is not in his veins and keeping his varsity duffle bag at the stark front of the bleachers; his all time habit, always eager to make his presence and determination known. so the fact that he can't be spotted anywhere in the field with his bag resting exactly where it is every time, is more than enough of a reason to have the whole team searching around for him. however, in all honesty, you being an exception to all of jake's rules(as it has always been) all he hopes for is not being caught no matter how much the thought of it arouses him. he can't let people see this pretty you. wanting to gatekeep you to the very last bits. hence, this blowjob is way more important, and practice and his team can just wait a few extra minutes.

he starts off slow at first, thrusting careful and steady, to let you adjust to it. ten, nine, eleven, eleven, trying to count sheep in his head not to lose his cool too quick. shit shit shit, it's okay, it's all good.

it works for a while, even if his counting is fucked over like him, it works for a short fleeting while. maybe a minute or two or three, he has no idea but it's too brief of a time to be called as holding back.

he takes one look at you. just one look, at the way you already seem to be struggling, drooling all around him with your doe eyes all wide and teary, a few drops slipping out with each thrust of him. you are a crybaby for sure and maybe it would've annoyed him if it were someone else but come on it's you. he already imagined you to be a crybaby and god did it turn him on beyond expectation, though he didn't think you'd actually be one, and he definitely never thought he'd love it so so much when you cried for him. eyelashes wet and batting at him, doing whatever it takes to keep your eyes open and trained on him.

if he knew it was because the first time you fucked, he asked you to keep your eyes on him and you thought he liked it when you did it, hence forcing your hooded eyes to stay on him right now.. jake would lose his mind into the depths of hell and into the sins of lust.

the whimper you let out when his cock hits the back of your throat makes him buck his hips forward once, and at realization of how you're struggling and yet not pushing him away because you want it just as much as him, his grip on your head tightens before he starts thrusting frantically like a madman. albeit, at the back of his subconscious he's still holding back, knowing you're not yet ready to handle his true lost self.

“i swear, you're trying to kill me,” his voice strains with the amount of moans and groans he held back all time to make sure people don't find him.

back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. jake's hips fall into a rhythm of their own as he swears out all the curses known to mankind at the back of his mind. feeling so good, it makes him question if all the sex he had until you was actually some real sex or just some otome simulation he played.

there's no way something as simple as this and something where he has to be sane enough to hold his demons in check could feel so damn ecstatic.

his eyes shut tight at the feeling of his orgasm creeping in quick. not wanting to overwhelm you by coming deep inside your throat, yet not being able to stop the frenzied thrusts: desperate and erratic. fucking you had him fighting demons but having your mouth on him also has him fight demons, though a level lower, but feeling like his life would be sucked out of him.

and if there's anyone who he'd actually let sucking his life out of him, it'd be you. one whine of his name and he'll fold to give you his cock anytime and anywhere.

“fuck candy, ‘m so close,” jake's strokes falter into sloppy movements when you suck in your lips to squeeze him tighter showing no signs of pushing at his thighs and just letting him hold your head in place and use you as he pleases.

just as he feels the first twinge of coming undone, jake quite literally forces himself out, gritting his teeth and holding his breath as he pulls away mumbling out a rough fuck while staggering in his steps.

“jerk me off, wanna finish on your face, wan to paint your pretty little cheeks and your cute little tongue with my cum,” he mutters, guiding one of your hands to his cock as one of his own moves to hold your jaw and squeeze your cheeks to keep your mouth open. thumb rubbing against your lower lips while he bites his own at your hands returning to stroke him like you did before. brows furrowing and heart thumping loud as his orgasm builds up again.

he's gonna cum so much and jake knows because it starts to hurt. and like the masochist he is, he heightens it by bringing his other hand to hold his cock over your small slick ones,”twist it like this under the head,” he says squeezing and moving his hands in twists to show you just how he likes it. and lord do you get it so well, twisting harshly just under the head like he said and then pulling at it. it's honestly a mysery to jake how he's lasted this long and not just cum in the first two minutes of you touching him. perhaps his experience comes to some use, but then even his experience can't help him from nutting in just merely twenty minutes. the time he so struggled to calculate just a couple seconds before he lets the pleasure take over and the hot spurts of cum shoot out on your tongue and all over your face.

“mhmmm fuck baby fuckkkk—” jake hisses, biting down on his lips hard as his whole body spasms with pleasure, ropes of cum spilling out the tip, pushing his hips in quick thrusts into your fist.

and even though jake has perhaps sworn a million times that he's not a voyeur, that he does not feel his entire being ascending into the holy sins at the prospect of being watched with you, especially anyone besides him, watching you, he swears he has sworn on it a good damn gazallion times. yet when he spots a boggled and overwhelmed sunghoon, gaping and gawking in the corner, the intrigue and hunger in his obscure gaze evident along with his obvious boner; jake feels a second orgasm coaxed out of him in another spurt of cum that lands directly on that spot on your lips he loves to rub his fingers over.

fuck. that's all jake can think of watching sunghoon realize he was caught and immediately rushing off. since when was that prick watching? he better not have gotten a look at your teary eyes and heard the little whines you let out.

he doesn't let it bother him too long though, he'll deal with it when he gets back to the field.

what he now wants to focus on is you and only you.

running his thumb over the splashes of cum and smearing them on your lips, inserting his fingers into your mouth and telling you to suck before he's pulling you up by your waist and holding you tight against him. his cock rubs against the fabric of your skirt, twitching with sensitivity at the touch but he pays it no mind. his own lips hovering over yours as he speaks in a whisper,”are you okay? did i hurt you somewhere?”

you shake your head in denial and jake heaves a sigh of relief, proceeding to tame your hair back to how it was before. palms caressing your head softly, and fingers threading through the strands all gentle and slow. not wanting this moment with you to end. his lips lock with yours in the midst of it as his hands fall down to your waist again. kissing with so much fervor and desperation, it makes you rub your thighs together to get some kind of a friction. and jake notices it for his hand had moved to play with the ends of your short skirt, knuckles loosely brushing against the back of your thighs that fidgeted every time he sucked on your tongue or nibbled on your lips.

“oh, my baby seems bothered,” pulling away to whisper it against your lips that chase his own for more.

“what do you want? tell me and i’ll give it to you,” jake grins, watching you struggle out of embarrassment,”come on candy, use your words,” it's so cute, should he just touch you or should he take his time cooing at your fumbling self.

“w- want yo—”

“well since you aren't gonna say it,” he picks up his jacket from the ground and brings it up to your face to wipe off his cum from your cheeks. pushing against the plump of your skin to make your lips pout out and one of your eyes close.

“want you to touch me too,” you whine.

“where baby? you gotta tell me,” he teased further, booping your nose before putting his jacket back on him.

“here,” jake’s breath hitches when you guide his hand down to touch you over your panties, the fabric so damn wet you might as well have cum untouched. the prospect of that being true turns him on beyond what's humanely possible. you cumming untouched while he fucked your mouth, god the thought of it makes him crazy. but thinking back on how sunghoon wandered in, it's better to leave it at this for now. can't have more people getting the opportunity to see you.

“here? my baby wants me to touch her pussy?” there's so much more he wants to say, but he knows if he says it now there's no way he won't be getting rock hard again and completely ditching practice.

his fingers press hard into your folds while he rubs around, his other hand squeezing your ass and his face buried in your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he bites and nibbles on the skin there.

“i’m sorry candy, but you'll have to wait until after practice. want to take my time eating you out. want to make you cum at least three times,” and make you squirt, he wants to add but man does the thought of it make his dick twitch, speaking it out loud would just make him squirt a pump of cum.

he slips his fingers inside to gather your wetness, sliding two fingers between your folds before taking it out and putting them into his mouth,"fuck, love the way you taste,”he groans. his favorite candy in the world. his drug, candy.

jake spends another minute rubbing you over your slick panties and letting his other hand on your ass move all over and grope you wherever he can. he makes sure it's just enough to have you craving his touch the entire time you wait. feeling jealous over the thought that having you wait for him by the bleachers would give sunghoon a view of you too. and knowing his friend, he probably won't have any innocent thoughts about you after what he walked into.

“come on now let's go,” it takes a great deal of self constraint for jake to pull away but alas it will only be fruitful once he gets through practice and has all the time in the world to pleasure you.

he helps you fix your appearance and dusts off his jacket and pulls up his pants before he leads you back out into the field where everyone waited for him.

“wait for me here,” he says, bringing you to his bag where he takes off his ‘thisisneverthat’ shirt to put on his jersey with a smug grin lacing his lips. placing his jacket on your lap to cover your pretty legs, if he could he would just burrito you with a blanket and th— no sim that's creepy.

“I'll be back before you know it,” bending down to place a chaste kiss on lips and forehead, he promises. jogging away to the middle of the field and taking his position beside sunghoon. it feels like there's a spark of tension between them from what you catch, but perhaps you're just thinking too much, they're good friends aren't they?

TAGLIST. @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @jaklvbub @kwiwin @brachives @jayhoonvroom @haelahoops @aaa-sia @lovingvoidgoatee @txtlyn @jakehooni @mnxnii @rikisly @notevenheretbh1 @yunjinsbbg @pjsfvs @yizhoutv @enhyven @capri-cuntz @heeseungsbabyy @aishigrey @wooziswife @citylightsdoll @yeonzzzn @istphanie @chaewonshoney @cha0thicpisces @laurradoesloveu @bambammtori @wonsbaer @ayyysweetcreature

[fettuccin-e]

Man in the Mirror

Kinktober Day 19: Voyeurism

Tags: Marc Spector x Reader x Steven Grant, afab!fem!reader, consensual voyeurism, unprotected piv (pls wrap it in real life omg), dirty talk, slight degradation, Steven watches Marc fuck you through a mirror idk what to tell you (w/c: 1K)

A/N: Back with the boys because I love them and I cannot help myself okay!!! And this is consensual, even though Steven doesn't exactly know it at the beginning, he just thinks he's being a perv. But in my fics, everyone is a perv alright! (this month I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings!)

Steven knows it’s wrong, God, it’s fucking wrong, but it’s like he can’t stop himself.

There’s something about the way Marc fucks you, the way you scrabble at the bedsheets when the shoves you into a lewd arch, his hand pressing into your back. The way you moan for it, heaving breaths into your lungs. It’s the way Marc talks to you through it, talking to you like you’re the filthy one, like you’re the one who’s desperate for it, even though Steven knows it’s both of you.

“God damn, baby,” Marc snarls, fucking into you hard enough that tears are starting to leak down your cheeks. “You’re fucking sucking me in, sweetheart. Feels good, huh? Getting fucked like you need?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you gasp through the moans he forces out of your mouth with every thrust. “It’s so fucking good, Marc, you’re so fucking deep.”

Steven should stop, right now. Go hide in the headspace, go to sleep and let you both have some privacy. Fuck, he's as naked as Marc is right now, he should feel exposed, have some god damn decency. But it’s like he’s stuck in place, staring in through the mirror as Marc rips you apart in ways he’s never dreamed to. It’s fucking addicting to watch the way your eyes roll back, the way your ass smacks back against Marc every time he shoves himself in, in, in. He reaches down to his bare cock and squeezes, unable to help it.

You’d only put this mirror up a week ago, and he hadn't even thought about the positioning of it. It’s placed on the wall right across from the foot of your bed, and fuck, he can see everything. He hadn’t noticed, hadn’t thought about this view when he had helped you set it straight, Marc coming into view in the reflection and smirking at Steven like he knew something he didn’t. Steven had brushed it off.

He shouldn’t have fucking brushed it off.

Because he’s sure, almost fucking positive, that Marc had somehow known. He’d known that Steven would watch, just like this, how Marc takes care of their girl. How he destroys you in ways that Steven can’t even think up on his own. It’s a special kind of torture, seeing you like this and not feeling it, not feeling you.

Marc’s thrusts are brutal, violent like the man himself. He treats you with so much care normally, Steven has seen it, but this isn’t gentle in the least. And you love it, crying out and drooling onto your sheets as Marc rips you to pieces, pulling you back onto his cock with thick fingers digging hard into your hips. He’s not sure how long he’s been watching intently, unable to tear his gaze away, when he sees Marc’s head snap up.

Looking right fucking at him.

Steven should go, disappear from the consciousness entirely, but it’s like he’s glued to the spot, his gaze locked with Marc’s. Marc’s thrusts don’t stutter, don’t stop, and you’re blissfully unaware as Marc watches Steven watch you.

Until Marc grins like the bastard he is, and leans down to mutter, just loud enough for Steven to hear, “Guess who’s here, gorgeous?”

“Wh-what?” you gasp through Marc’s unrelenting thrusts.

“He’s watching, baby,” Marc smiles, glancing up at Steven. “Just like you wanted.”

You wanted- you wanted? Steven’s breath catches in his throat, he’s pretty sure his heart stops fucking beating. 

“Steven,” you moan like it’s been punched out of you. “Steven’s here.”

“He’s watchin’ in that mirror you put up, sweetheart,” Marc says, “Watching me fuck you.” Steven is flushed beet-red, he knows it, but still, he watches. “Look at him, baby,” Marc growls, “Fucking look at him.”

Marc reaches up and curls a fist into your hair, tugging your head up to look straight into the mirror, straight at Steven. And God, you’re beautiful, tears falling down your face, your lips plump from the way you’ve been biting at them. You can’t see him, Steven knows that, but you look anyway, like you really can.

“She wanted this,” Marc snarls, and you clench your eyes shut, like you want to hide from Steven’s gaze. “She put that mirror up, hoping you’d watch like this. Wanted me to watch you both too, Steven.” You whine, and Marc’s thrusts seem to get even harder. “Our baby’s a little slut, just wants someone to watch her get fucked, isn’t that right, honey?”

“Your-” you gasp, staring into the mirror, like you’re talking to Steven, too. “Your slut, fuck, just yours.”

Marc fucking growls, his hips driving his cock into you. Steven can hear the way your pussy squishes around him, so wet you’re dripping down onto the sheets beneath you. Your body is covered in sweat, glinting in the light, practically glowing.

“Gonna let him fuck you after this, baby?” Marc grits, “Fucking whore for this cock, can’t get enough.” You slur a stream of yesyesyesyes as Marc reaches beneath you to start rubbing furiously at your clit, and you tremble beneath him.

“C’mon, gorgeous, cum for me.” Marc glances up at Steven. “Cum for both of us.”

Your eyes go wide, your mouth gaping open around a silent scream as you gush down Marc’s cock, body shaking as Marc fucks you through it, letting out a strangled groan of his own. Steven is hard as a fucking rock, straining against his stomach, begging for your touch. He watches as Marc thrusts deep and stills, his eyelids fluttering as he pumps you full of his cum.

You slump into the sheets, and Marc slides out of you, leaning down to kiss down your spine, muttering little praises of “such a good girl,” and “took it so well, looked so pretty,” into your skin. You roll onto your back, tugging Marc down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. Marc smiles against your mouth, and Steven feels that familiar pull to the front.

He shuts his eyes, and when he blinks them open again, you’re smiling up at him, reaching up to brush a reverent hand across his jaw.

“Enjoyed the show?” you whisper, and Steven can’t help the way he grins, the way his heart flutters.

“More than you know, darling,” he mutters, and leans to lick into your mouth. “Got to give Marc a show now, yeah?”

[rensblade]

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃.

⟢ warnings/notes: husband! jing yuan x gender neutral! reader. toothrotting fluff, cute domestic banter tbh. husband yuan nation, please rise. not proofread, we die like tingyun. might be ooc. pls lmk if i got any of the hsr terminology wrong.. appreciate any type of feedback & please please pleaseee send me reqs if u have any ✩

“beloved, am i really that bad of a general?”

the all too familiar baritone of your husband’s voice fills in your ears, as you raise your gaze from the distance, only to watch him sulk from where he was sat upon the seat of divine foresight.

to anyone that squints, would be graced upon a phenomenon all too odd— jing yuan, one of seven arbiter generals, pouting.

“and what.. exactly makes you think so, ‘yuan?” you already knew the answer, but you still entertained the fact he was pouting, almost comically the same way yanqing does, when you deny him from making impulsive sword purchases.. or the same way mimi, your household lion, scrunches up her face and paws at your clothes when you tell her that she won't get any more snacks for the night.

said man sits up from where he's at, and abruptly makes his way down to where you're seated— at his desk. sorting through some of the things unattended earlier during his earlier escapade to fyxestroll garden.

“well.. you know.” he deadpans, staring down at you. you have to keep in a giggle, finding the way he waited so patiently for you to finish with the work at your side, almost akin to your precious lion who does the same.

you heave a sigh, but in an amused way, as you stack the last documents into a neat pile and turn in your chair, and upon being graced with your attention; your lover nearly falls dramatically into your arms.

“i can't help but think i should just hand over my resignation early. you know what, fu xuan probably saw this coming,” he fake-wails, as you caress his hair, cooing at the man who was currently at your feet.

eventually, he relents, when you tug a little hard on his fluffy white mane. “darling.. is this about cirrus?” the mere mention of the heliobus makes jing yuan glower, and you practically have to bite back your laughter at the expression, opting to clear your throat instead.

he stays silent for a second, then scrunches his face. “..absolutely not,” he retaliates in a serious tone. then, he slumps forward again, almost nuzzling into your lap as he tries to hypothesize. “it's just. i need some constructive criticism, before i actually hand over my position to someone else, you know,” he reasons, but you know better.

“right, why of course.” you humor him a little bit longer. pushing the general’s buttons has always been your favorite past time activity.

he pulls away, getting on his feet before he gathers your hands into his and gives you a solemn look. “you get me, my love. this is why we're married.”

that makes you crack a smile. jing yuan only raises a brow, but returns the smile nevertheless, a little hesitant. “yuan, i love you, but. you mean solid constructive criticism like.. i don't know, maybe it's about time you retired and took a big fat cat nap?” you suggest with a snort, and jing yuan simply huffs. (yeah, mimi definitely got the attitude from her dad).

you shake your head, dragging him to sit next to you as you elaborated. “in all seriousness.. you're not a bad general. not a bad mentor, father or husband, jing yuan. don't let that silly heliobi’s words get to your head.” the tall man, lets you cup his face, squishing his cheeks as you pepper kisses across them, as if to prove your point.

he simply gathers your form up into his arms, holding you tightly and you can't help but relax into the warmth he emits. he's truly a big cat. “you know, i’m starting to think this must be how birds that nest in your hair must feel.” you point out with a false-huff, after a minute of silence.

jing yuan chuckles at that, purposely tugging you by the waist; flush closer against his torso as he nuzzles into you— pale locks of his hair cloud your vision. “why, of course. a wise, little sparrow, you are.” he snuggles against you, golden eyes softening as they examine your reactions. “in fact, my favorite.” the baritone of his words send a pleasant wave of warmth through your body, you can feel him smile against your skin as he litters little kisses here and there.

to be fair, if you were held prisoner in his gentle yet steady hold forever, you were more than willing to be reduced to a mere bird, for eternity. okay, and maybe you would miss making snarky rebuttals at the general, but that's about it.

as you're resting yourself against him, a thought crosses your mind, and you'd bask in the silent affection but your loud thoughts cut you short. “and for the record, you still should've let me kick cirrus’s butt.” as expected, a hearty laugh booms from the man’s chest, the vibrations making your body tingle.

“i love you.” he says, practically purring, as the gigantic man nuzzles even further into the crevice of your neck, pressing yet another kiss to the spot he loves. his hair tickles your neck, but you love the familiarity of it all.

what a heavenly life you live, as the general’s personal songbird.

rensblade, 2023. please do not steal my writings or headers, i put a lot of effort into this. reblogs & comments are appreciated! pls send me asks/reqs, i write for most genshin or hsr or jjk characters as of now. thank u once again <3

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Alt. Ending

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (f.rec), fingering, pussy slapping, overstimulation, !dark content! murder, possession, blood, manipulation, lots of mentions to hell, soul selling, please read the a/n wc: 14.3k heeseung (true ending) | masterlist synopsis: once heeseung sells you an offer you can't refuse, it's up to you to reap what you sow. sooyeol's return and revelations put your world in wonder as you contemplate the implications of your greed and who you truly are a/n: hi! this is a highly requested alternate ending to tdh! this takes place just after heeseung offers y/n to sell her soul in his chapter (pls read that first before this!), i hope this is what you guys wanted! i had so much fun writing it so i hope you enjoy reading it <3 there's a twist in this one that might be confusing but i think i have explained it thoroughly enough but as always, feel free to ask for clarification. likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are all welcome <3

"If you want this life," he starts, his stare fixed on you, "Let me give it to you." He promises you the future your spirit so desperately desires with a voice that is both powerful and supple, promising support and unfaltering devotion.

A part of you yearns to leap up and accept, drawn to the allure of the life he promises. Yet, you can hear a distant warning of whispers in the recesses of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of such a choice. You can't ignore the lessons learned from Soonyeol's fate, knowing that trading one form of captivity for another may not be the answer. She is happy right now but for how long could she possibly stay that way?

"Y/N?" Jaeyun's voice breaks through the haze, its urgency slicing through the intimate moment with Heeseung. It reverberates down the halls, each bounce signalling his approach, yet the vastness of the mansion keeps him at a distance, prolonging the inevitable interruption.

You tear yourself away from Heeseung’s grip, sitting up as you dare not to look at him, “I can’t have this life, Heeseung. This belongs to Soonyeol.”

As you move to get up and dress, Heeseung grips your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, studying you with an intensity that leaves your soul feeling exposed, laid bare before him.

"Say the word and she's gone, Baby," he murmurs, his voice low and determined. The fondness and devotion he once held for his minder seem to fade into the background as he tries to persuade you to stay.

Your eyes widen in disbelief at his implication; how could he suggest getting rid of Soonyeol so easily, especially someone who gave their soul to him? While he may believe it's what you want to hear, his words only serve to deepen your doubts about his loyalty and commitment. If he can toss her aside, how quickly will it take him to move on from you?

Pulling his hand from your face, you hold it against your chest, “You told me you don’t break your promises, Heeseung,” you gently confront him. Yet, as you look into his eyes, you see sincerity within them, making you question whether he means his words to you.

“Y/N? Where are you?” Jaeyun shouts once again, panic in his vocals.

“Let me give you your desires,” Heeseung’s lips upturn as he watches your brain fight itself between yielding and defying your urges.

“Y/N? Can you answer me?”

“Come on, Y/N, say it. Tell me you want this.”

“Please answer me!”

Your body instinctively leans into Heeseung's touch, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze as he strokes your cheek with a gentle caress. It's as if you're caught in a trance, captivated by the magnetic pull of his presence. 

Heeseung has this way of making you surrender, like without even owning your soul, he still has it in his possession. You’re tied to him in a way that no one can grasp. You should flee, run to the sound of Jaeyun’s voice and yet, you stay put, leaning closer to Heeseung with a heavy need for the life he is offering.

There’s no way you can say no. So you don’t.

“I want this, Heeseung.”

A sinister smirk etches on his face and a dark chuckle heaves from his chest as he witnesses your resolve crumble away and the girl he needs you to be, start to appear. He has you hook, line, and sinker, and he could not be fucking happier.

His eyes begin to cloud with that crimson hue that used to scare you but now you look at them with a sense of satisfaction; they help you look at yourself in the reflection and see a girl ready to take what is hers, to be selfish for once. After living a life of chasing fulfilment and desires, Heeseung is helping you finally achieve it.

There is still guilt in the pit of your stomach for Soonyeol because once she comes back from her trip, you don’t know what Heeseung will do to her. That is a thought you can’t bear to wonder about too extensively but you need to make sure that she lives and finds a peaceful life elsewhere; only then can your guilty conscience be eased and you can forever embrace this life.

“I’ll make you so fucking happy, baby. I will give you everything you could want and more,” Heeseung mumbles into your bare shoulder, still sticky from the passionate exchange you’ve just had. His lips are so gentle, a juxtaposition from the raw fucking he just blessed you with moments ago. 

Leaning back, you gaze into his eyes once more, they tell a tale of lust and admiration even within the red clouds. But yours are focused on the safety of Soonyeol. “What will you do to Soonyeol? Please don’t kill her…”

Smiling, he strokes your cheek fondly, “You’re still a good girl after all, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll fuck that out of you soon enough.” Heeseung’s manner is playful yet this is serious for you, you need his word that Soonyeol will not succumb to a deadly fate.

“Please, Heeseung. There is no deal if you kill her,” you reiterate, voice holding a stern undertone while it wavers slightly. “I won’t be yours.”

Heeseung does not like that, his eyes narrow dangerously and his fingers, which were once delicately ghosting your cheek, now grip your jaw harshly, bruising the delicate skin. “You don’t get to make demands around here, baby.”

Fear surges through you, but you summon your courage, meeting his fierce gaze with as much defiance as you can muster. “If you want me to stay, then you’ll promise me she’s safe,” you insist, your voice steadier than you feel.

You and Heeseung are locked in a stare-off, both of you unyielding in your demands. He knows despite feeding into your desires, you still have that damn moral compass, and if he wants you to fully be his -  mind, body, and soul - he needs to work with you, at least for now. 

Knowingly, Heeseung relents, his grip loosening on your jaw as he nods. “I won’t kill her, I’ll make sure her soul is alive and well. Trust me, baby.”

And in some strange turn of events, you do trust him. You don’t know if it’s the proximity of his body to yours or the intimate aftermath of your recent encounter, but you find yourself believing in his promise despite the darkness that surrounds him.

“We need to seal the deal, so to speak,” he grins, his thumb wiping roughly over your bottom lip, pushing it down seductively as he inches closer. This is it, you think to yourself, once you kiss him, you’ve given yourself over to him.

Being owned by a Prince of Hell should terrify you, like most of the happenings in this house should have, yet just like every time, it feels right. You do belong to him in some twisted fate, and you feel it more in this moment than ever. Perhaps he is coaxing your mind to surrender to him, or maybe it’s just pure want, for both Soonyeol’s life and the Prince she once called hers.

Swallowing any apprehension you have, you whisper a silent ‘okay’, giving yourself over with consent, much to Heeseung’s delight. And without a second thought, his lips collide with yours once again, his hand cradling the back of your head as he lays you back down on the bed, kissing you with as much fervour as he can manage.

In that heated moment, as your lips meld with his, you feel a surge of conflicting emotions. There's desire, undeniable and fierce, coursing through your veins, mingling with a sense of trepidation at the path you're willingly treading.

Heeseung's kiss is both intoxicating and consuming, his passion igniting a fire within you that threatens to engulf your senses. His hands roam your body with possessive urgency, as if claiming you as his own in every possible way.

As the kiss intensifies, the world around you melts away, leaving only you and Heeseung locked in an eternal embrace. It's as if nothing else matters in this moment but the raw, unholy connection that you share with him. You feel your veins pulsing and your heart racing, like you’re shedding your old self to make way for someone new.

In this moment, you choose to embrace the darkness and submit to the irresistible pull of hunger and temptation. For better or worse, you've made your decision, and there is no turning back now.

“Heeseung, have you seen Y/N?” Jaeyun’s voice rings through the door as he chaps it softly. His voice is laced with concern, the tremble of his chin evident in how his words shake. “I can’t find her, she was with me a minute ago?”

Heeseung’s mouth turns into an evil grin as he continues to ravish you, knowing that you’re officially his now. Snaking his hand up your legs, he dips his hand between your thighs and caresses your swollen clit softly, using his touch to cloud your mind of thoughts with nothing but him and your desire to be his everything.

You gasp at the intrusion, your nub still sensitive from the beating it took not even 30 minutes ago. He has this way of teasing you, yet giving you exactly what you want that makes your heart beat for him. He might not be a God of holy faith, but he is a God nonetheless, and you are ready to worship the ground he walks on.

“Seriously, Heeseung? Did she come by here?” Jaeyun asks once again.

Grunting, he plunges two fingers into your heat and covers your mouth before you can let out a long drone. “Should we let him see you like this?” Heeseung whispers next to your ear, eliciting a panicked shake of the head from you. You loved Jaeyun, more than the stars shine, so seeing him hurt pains you to think about, and seeing you wrapped around his older brother might just kill him. 

Snorting, Heeseung mocks you, shaking his head along with you, a fake pout on his lips as he curls his fingers inside of you. “No? Are you sure?”

“Please, Heeseung,” you mumble against his hand, pleading with him, and the double entendre is not lost on his ears. You're begging him to keep going while also pleading to keep your relationship with Jaeyun intact.

Jaeyun twists the door handle, but the lock prevents him from entering, much to your relief. Heeseung picks up the pace of his fingers and adds his thumb, circling your clit rapidly. Your body arches as he continues to pleasure you, Jaeyun’s persistent attempts to enter now a distant memory.

Not to Heeseung though, who finds the boy grating on his last nerve.

“She’s not here, so fuck off,” he bellows out, rolling his eyes before adoringly focusing on you again. His harsh words towards Jaeyun hurt your heart, but the clench of your walls around his fingers tells Heeseung a different story. “Oh? You like it when I’m mean?”

Yes, you do. Of course, you do. It's how he got you to worship his cock like it was the offering of the last supper. You don’t really like it when Jaeyun is on the other side of it but the way Heeseung is fucking his fingers into you clouds that soft side.

Your body starts to spasm, telling him everything he needs to know. He thrusts his fingers deep inside of you, your spongy walls trapping them in place as you reach your climax.

Thanking hell below for his palm, you hold it close to your mouth as you cum around his fingers, the guttural groan vibrating through Heeseung's doll shell. As you ride the waves of ecstasy, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of your release, Heeseung watches you with smug satisfaction. He revels in the power he holds over you, relishing in the way your body responds to his touch, every whimper and moan affirming his control.

Once the tremors of your orgasm subside, Heeseung withdraws his fingers slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. He leans in close, his soft lips against your ear as he murmurs, "You're mine, Y/N. All mine."

_____

Staring at one of the dolls on the hallway shelves, you can't help but feel an instant connection to her. The way her apple cheeks are delicately blushed with a light pink pigment exudes innocence, and her eyes, though glassy and vacant, seem to hold a haunting depth that speaks volumes. It's as if she's a frozen embodiment of lost innocence, a silent witness to the darker forces at play within these walls.

Memories of your own past flood back, a time when you too felt like a mere puppet in the hands of fate, devoid of purpose or direction. You remember the fear and uncertainty that once consumed you, the longing for something more than the emptiness that surrounded you.

But then everything changed when you entered this house, when you met Heeseung and the others. They offered you a glimpse of a world beyond your wildest dreams, a world filled with passion, desire, and danger.

A pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you from your reverie, and a chin gently rests on your shoulder. Speak of the devil. Heeseung's presence is both comforting and unsettling, his touch sending a shiver down your spine as his lips press firmly against the base of your neck. It's a possessive gesture, a silent reminder of the hold he has over you, yet there's a tenderness in the way he pulls you close, as if seeking solace in your presence. 

Soonyeol’s arrival is imminent and your two months of work finally coming to an end. The thought of breaking the news to her, of telling her that she's being ousted from her own sanctuary, fills you with a sense of dread. You haven’t even broached the subject with the other dolls, clinging to the hope that you can somehow persuade Soonyeol to go quietly and come up with a feeble excuse about how she craved more than the confinements of this house.

But it’s a pipedream, and deep down, you know it. You're at a loss for what to do, desperately hoping that Heeseung has a better idea, though the thought of the suggestions his mind could conjure fills you with unease.

“Do you like her?” Heeseung's soft voice breaks through your thoughts, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your stomach, easing away the nerves without him even realizing.

One thing about Heeseung these past few weeks; he’s been your saving grace. The pull you felt towards him from the moment you arrived has only grown stronger with each passing day, his presence a source of comfort and stability amid uncertainty. He is rude and harsh with you when you show even a slither of humanity for Soonyeol or the dolls, but he makes up for it by being gentle with you in subtle moments.

He's a study in contradictions - pushing and pulling, hot and cold - and yet, you find yourself drawn to him all the same. It's in those fleeting moments of tenderness, when he brushes a strand of hair from your face or pulls you into a comforting embrace, that you catch glimpses of the man behind the Prince.

Nodding in response to his question, you sink into him, the warmth of his body enveloping you like a protective shield against the uncertainty that lies ahead. “She's pretty,” you admit softly, your gaze drifting towards the doll on the shelf, her delicate features frozen in porcelain perfection.

“Not as pretty as you though,” he smirks, his lips tickling your neck as he leans in closer, brushing against your skin in a teasing caress. “Although, you would look pretty as a doll, too.” His tone is dark but it’s washed away with the wave of banter that flows through it.

Turning your head, you raise a sceptical brow. “Is that the clause in our deal? I get to live here, but you keep me as a Polly Pocket?” you jest, laughter bubbling up to chase away the remaining nerves.

Heeseung laughs heartily, his grip on your hips tightening briefly before he steps back, giving you some space. “You are far too powerful, too perfect, to be trapped in a tattered piece of porcelain.” His words carry a sincerity that melts away any lingering doubts, leaving you feeling cherished and reassured in his presence.

You've tried to keep your guard up around him, knowing all too well that beneath his caring facade lies the darkness of Beelzebub. Yet, in moments like this, it's far too easy to forget the true nature of the man before you. Heeseung's charm and the tenderness he has been showing lately makes it all too easy to overlook the sinister power he wields.

But deep down, you know the truth. With one click of his fingers, he could turn your world upside down, shattering everything you hold dear just as easily as he's granted your heart's desires. It's a precarious balance, walking the tightrope between desire and danger, love and fear.

And yet, despite the looming threat that hangs over your head, you find yourself unable to resist the pull of Heeseung's magnetism, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to escape the allure of his darkness; like there is something deeper.

The sound of a car pulling up over the gravel driveway snaps you back to reality, instantly tensing your muscles as a surge of apprehension washes over you. Heeseung notices your rigid frame and pulls you back, his touch both comforting and unsettling.

“I’m going to ask her for a private conversation so there are…no hard feelings,” he begins, his tone cryptic and difficult to decipher. “Bring her and wait in the drawing room,” he adds, pointing to the doll behind you with his chin.

You watch him with a mixture of confusion and apprehension as he walks away, his actions leaving you with more questions than answers. His demeanour is inscrutable, giving nothing away as he disappears from view, leaving you to ponder the plan he's clearly concocted in his head.

With a furrowed brow, you turn your attention to the doll he indicated, a sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach. There's a foreboding weight to the situation, a feeling that something ominous is about to unfold.

But for now, all you can do is follow Heeseung's instructions and prepare yourself for the private conversation that awaits. With a deep breath, you grab the pretty doll and head to the drawing room with the hope that this will go smoothly.

_____

As you wait for Soonyeol and Heeseung's arrival, you take a moment to marvel at the grandeur of the drawing room. The fancy furnishings and decor speak of a bygone era, a time when elegance and extravagance reigned supreme.

Sunlight filters through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the room and illuminating the intricate patterns of the Persian rugs that adorn the wooden floors. The walls are covered with priceless works of art, each painting telling a story of its own.

Over the two months you've been working here, you've noticed Soonyeol's love for the 16th-century Renaissance period. Her love for the art and culture of that time is evident in the decor of the entire house. It's as if she's created her own little slice of Renaissance paradise within these walls, a sanctuary where she can escape the troubles of the modern world.

You’re beginning to feel guilty once again, kicking her out of this home just for your own selfish pleasures. Heeseung has convinced you time and time again that this is what you deserve, that he wouldn’t offer this opportunity to someone who wasn’t in dire need of it. 

And you need it. You can’t go back. Not now.

The door creaks open slowly, and Heeseung gestures for Soonyeol to enter before him, a fond eye smile gracing his features as he watches her timid walk. She looks visibly shocked to see you standing there, her expression betraying her surprise as she takes in your presence. It's as if Heeseung hadn't prepared her for your involvement in this delicate conversation. You can see the confusion and uncertainty flicker in her eyes, a reflection of the turmoil brewing within her as she tries to make sense of the situation.

“Hee? Darling, why are we here? Why is Y/N here?” Soonyeol's voice carries a note of confusion as she looks between Heeseung and you, her gaze lingering on you with a hint of curiosity.

The way she calls him "darling" strikes a chord with you, a guard instantly going up until you realise that, at this moment, she still thinks he is hers when in reality, you're the one he's been wrapped around for the past two weeks.

In fact, you've been wrapped around all of her dolls for the past two months.

You offer a gentle wave, an attempt to break the awkward silence that hangs heavy in the air. It's clear that Soonyeol is struggling to make sense of the situation, and you can't blame her. For all she knows the dolls should have stayed exactly that -  dolls. They should never have moved or let you in on the secret about their beings. But you know them all, each depth of their entity and soul, you understand them, more than her it seems if the conversations you’ve had with Jaeyun and Sunghoon are anything to go by.

“This is just somewhere quiet we can talk, this is a sensitive discussion,” he rubs her arms affectionately, reassuring her just as he has done you over the weeks. Yet, his face graces itself with an ill-omened smirk, looking at you with joy in his eyes.

Soonyeol tilts her head and pouts slightly. “So you know about the boys?” she asks softly, her tone laced with caution as she tries to gauge your reaction. Her love and devotion to the dolls means that she is careful about who can know about them and who doesn’t, and she has yet to find someone she trusts with her secret.

You quickly swallow the saliva in your mouth and nod in agreement, “Yeah, they weren’t very discreet, but they have all been so kind to me. I cherish them so much,” you say earnestly. You mean every word of it, maybe more so the fact you cherish them than all of them being kind, but you need to butter this woman up so you can get her to leave as soon as possible.

Soonyeol's expression softens at your response, a flicker of relief crossing her features as she exhales slowly. It's clear that she's been holding her breath, unsure of how you would react to the revelation. “Was it Jaeyun? It was Jaeyun wasn’t it?” 

She begins to laugh, a soft and melodic sound that fills the room, as she shakes her head gently. You can see the wheels turning in her mind as she comes to her own conclusions. Jaeyun's reputation as a chatterbox is well-known throughout the house, so it's no surprise that she would automatically suspect him first. “You know, he’s usually good at keeping promises.”

Heeseung's grip on her shoulders is gentle yet firm, a silent reassurance that he's there for her. He leans in, his voice a low murmur as he interjects. “Speaking of promises,” he whispers to himself, his tone cold yet his touch offering her affection. “Hey, Soon?”

Soonyeol's attention shifts to him, her eyes wide with curiosity as she looks up at him expectantly. “Yeah?” she prompts, her voice tinged with wonder and a hint of apprehension.

“There’s been a change of plans to our deal,” he says, his words cutting through the air with icy precision, even as his hands continue to offer her comfort.

Soonyeol's gaze flickers to you, as if seeking confirmation or understanding from you. You meet her eyes with a blank stare, unsure of what to say or how to react to this unexpected turn of events. “What do you-”

It all happens so quickly.

Heeseung's hands, usually a source of comfort and reassurance to Soonyeol, suddenly transform into instruments of terror as they wrap around her head. One hand clamps down firmly on top, while the other grips her chin from underneath, his fingers digging into her flesh with a chilling intensity.

In one swift, violent motion, he twists her head with a forceful jerk, Soonyeol's neck snaps at a sharp 90-degree angle, the movement so abrupt and forceful that it sends shockwaves rippling through the room. The sound that follows is bone-chilling, a sickening crack that reverberates with such intensity that it feels as though it could be heard from heaven itself. The sound echoes off the walls with a sinister resonance that seems to linger in the air long after the deed is done. 

As you watch in horror, a wave of nausea washes over you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. It's a sight that sears itself into your memory, haunting you long after the moment has passed. In that brief, fleeting instant, you catch a glimpse of the true extent of Heeseung's power, a power that is as terrifying as it is awe-inspiring.

Releasing his grip on Soonyeol's lifeless form, Heeseung steps back with a cold detachment that sends a shiver down your spine. The once warm air now feels cold and thick with tension, the weight of what has just transpired hanging heavily in the room like a suffocating blanket.

He looks down at his past lover's body and squats down beside her, stroking her face. Heeseung's touch on Soonyeol's lifeless form is strangely tender considering the brutality of his actions just moments ago. His expression is unreadable, a mask of indifference masking any trace of emotion. "No hard feelings, baby," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "You just aren't her."

You don’t have the time nor the brain capacity to register his remark when he stands up, his movements purposeful as he grasps Soonyeol’s wrist firmly, before dragging her to the table on the left side of the room, heaving her up onto it with no struggle at all, as though he is lifting a butterfly who had injured it’s wing. 

Transfixed on the spot, your eyes follow Heeseung's movements as he meticulously arranges Soonyeol's body on the table. He places her hands gently on her stomach and closes her eyes, as if giving her a semblance of peace in death. The room is eerily silent, the only sound being the faint rustle of his movements.

Heeseung then walks around the table with an unsettling calm, his presence both comforting and terrifying. He plants a chaste kiss on your lips, a contrast to the violent act he just committed. "I'll be right back, baby," he murmurs softly, his voice almost soothing.

As he heads towards the door, leaving you alone with Soonyeol's lifeless body, panic and guilt surge through you. You're left with the grim reality of the situation - a situation you played a part in creating. The weight of your actions presses heavily on your conscience, threatening to crush you under its burden.

You can't bear to look at her. The sight of Soonyeol, so still and silent, is too much to handle. Turning away, you feel a deep sense of shame and regret wash over you, mingling with the fear that now grips your heart. The room feels colder, the air you breathe thicker with the weight of your guilt.

In the oppressive silence, you struggle with the knowledge of what you've done, unable to escape the haunting reality of your involvement in this tragedy. You wanted this life, but not like this, not with blood on your hands; Heeseung had promised you that much.

Heeseung returns with the ornate bowl from the altar, slamming the door shut behind him with a resounding thud that makes you jump. He locks it with a deliberate twist of the mechanic, sealing the room and adding to the claustrophobic tension. With a casual grace, he spins the priceless bowl in his hands as though it were a mere football, his nonchalance juxtaposing sharply with the gravity of the situation.

Making his way to the table, he places the bowl just above Soonyeol's head. His movements are quick and precise, a sense of urgency evident in his actions. "Come on, baby, it’s your time to shine," he urges, his voice carrying an impatient edge.

"W-what?" you stammer, barely able to form the words as the reality of what’s happening starts to sink in.

Heeseung doesn’t look at you, instead snapping his fingers and pointing towards you, "Did you bring that pretty doll I asked you to?"

The doll. The beautiful doll that you picked up earlier now takes on a sinister significance. Your mind races, slowly piecing together the grim puzzle. But as you stand frozen, struggling to process, Heeseung elaborates, confirming your worst suspicions. "We’re going to take Soonyeol’s soul from in here," he slaps her still, dead stomach with a forceful smack that makes you flinch, "and we are going to put it in there."

The innocent doll sits idly by, its painted eyes staring blankly ahead, unaware of the dark fate it has been chosen to bear. You feel sick as you realise the full extent of what Heeseung plans to do; you can’t believe this is what you caused.

Your eyes, which once couldn't look at Soonyeol, are now transfixed on her, unable to focus on anything else. You struggle to breathe, each inhale feeling like a weight pressing down on your chest.

Heeseung, growing increasingly irritated by your lack of response, strides over to you. “Fucking hell, Y/N,” he huffs, exasperation evident in his voice. As he gets close, he grabs a chunk of your hair, dragging you over to the lifeless girl and forcing you to lean over the table, your face just inches from Soonyeol’s paling features. “You asked for this,” he snarls, his voice dripping with anger and frustration.

But this isn’t what you wanted. Not at all, and he knows that. “No… this is… you said you wouldn’t kill her,” you whisper, your voice barely audible through the hushed sobs that threaten to break free. You aren’t exactly crying, unable to even process the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your head: fear, anguish, dread, curiosity, admiration.

“If you do your fucking job, then she won’t be dead, will she?” Heeseung releases his grip on your hair, smoothing it out with an almost tender touch before scanning the room for the doll. Once he spots it, he swiftly retrieves the porcelain and places it next to the bowl.

Heeseung's eyes flicker with a cold intensity as he sets everything in place, his movements precise as you watch him in awe. “Here’s what you’re going to do,” he instructs, his voice commanding and brooking no argument. “You’re going to transfer her soul into this doll. If you succeed, she’ll live. Fail, and she’s gone forever, she goes down there with all my legions, Got it?”

He sees you considering the consequences, your eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. With a sigh, he rubs his face in frustration. Deep down, he knows this is a lot for you to process and he should be somewhat more lenient to your shock, but now is not the time.

“Listen, baby, if I know the girl inside of you, then you can do this easily, okay?” His voice is gentler now, as if he is trying to reach a deeper part of you, seeking someone else within your soul.

His words strike a chord within you, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. You nod, determination slowly replacing the paralyzing fear. “I can do this,” you whisper to yourself, though the words are meant for him as well.

“That’s my girl,” he smiles wickedly, seeing that tint of cloud form around your body, “Now repeat after me:

nrober eb tirips eht tel eerced swodahs yb

nrot eb liev eht tel ecarbme sthgiliwt ni

derrulb elballys yreve stneicna fo eugnot eht ni

draeh ron nekops rehtien sdrow eht rettu

htrae eht ssik smaebnoom erehw

htaerb sthgiliwt eht ni shpylg sti ecart

trap llahs luos eht llehs latrom eht morf rof

traeh nmelos a htiw stcafetra eseht rehtag

niht si liev eht dna ecnad swodahs nehw ruoh eht ni”

He says the lines slowly, ensuring that you copy every syllable for perfect diction. You don’t know what language this is but it is identical to the one Jongseong spoke when he called hell. The words feel heavy on your tongue, ancient and powerful, as if they carry the weight of centuries.

As you repeat the incantation, a strange sensation washes over you like you’re suddenly powerful and the words come so easily to your lips you might as well be fluent. The air in the room grows thicker, charged with an otherworldly energy that sends shivers down your spine. You focus on Heeseung’s voice, steady and commanding, guiding you through the spell until you’re saying it along with him, chanting it like these are your vows, to have and to hold. 

Heeseung takes Soonyeol's hand and cuts into her palm, dripping her blood into the stone bowl carefully while you repeat the ritual over and over again just as instructed. The bowl begins to glow with a pulsating red light, its intensity increasing with each word. He carefully takes his finger and paints an upside-down cross on the doll's forehead, but it looks more like an X with the smudge of her carmine sweetness. 

The shadows in the room seem to come alive, swirling around you in a dance that mirrors the rhythm of the incantation. The temperature drops and your breath comes out in visible puffs of mist. Heeseung’s eyes never leave you, his expression a mix of pride and anticipation. “Fuck, there you are,” he heaves out, his tongue menacingly sticking out of his mouth past his evil smile, as if he’s getting turned on by just seeing you utter the words of his mother tongue.

But so are you, or at least, your body is charged with high energy. It's as if a dormant power within you has been awakened, stirring to life with an insatiable hunger for the raw, untamed energy that tornados around you.

In this moment, you feel more alive than you have ever felt before, every sense heightened to an almost unbearable degree. The air crackles with anticipation, charged with the potent magic that hangs thick in the atmosphere. You can feel the pulse of the earth beneath your feet, the rhythmic beat of its heart synchronising with your own.

As you reach the final verse, the light from the bowl blazes brightly, casting eerie shadows across Soonyeol’s lifeless form. With the last syllable, the energy within the bowl surges outward, a tangible wave of force that knocks the breath out of your lungs. It dances its way into Soonyeol’s being, collecting pieces of her soul that are hidden in the depth of her body before drawing it out, the pure white mist following the red light energy before it guides her to the doll.

You watch in awe and terror as she flows into the doll, its porcelain face glowing with an unearthly light. Soonyeol’s body twitches, a final spasm and gasp of life before it goes completely still. The doll’s eyes now hold a flicker of life within them that was not there before. She is alive.

Once the ritual concludes and Soonyeol's soul is sealed within the doll, the room descends into an eerie darkness, the once vibrant glow of the ritual bowl fading into obscurity. The only illumination comes from the soft hues of the setting sun filtering through the window, casting long shadows that dance across the room.

Heeseung observes you closely, his eyes penetrating the darkness with an intensity that belies the gloom. He senses the subtle shift within you, a transformation he has long anticipated; that greed for your own satisfaction, to take what you want from this world, for you to come home to him. 

In his eyes, you are bathed in a vermillion aura, an ethereal glow that marks you as a being of otherworldly power. It's a sight that would be invisible to the naked human eye, but to Heeseung, it's a sign of your rightful place among the divine. In the underworld, such a sight would be revered and worshipped as a symbol of authority and dominion. And by God does he want to get on his knees to bow before you and pledge his unwavering loyalty.

You might not be able to see the glow around you, but you can feel it. It’s exhilarating, the passion and vitality coursing through your bloodstream, electrifying every nerve ending and racing to your heart and your core. There is no logical explanation for the arousal that pulses through you because what you should be feeling is confusion; why did you enjoy that? And why did you know the ritual as if it were engraved in your very being?

Noticing the subtle movement of your thighs as they press together, Heeseung's signature wicked grin returns to his face. "Oh, baby, did that make you needy?" he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement as he leans on the table, his gaze fixed on your squirming form. “Do you want me to fuck you as a reward?”

You can't deny the rising heat within you, the inexplicable lust that courses through your veins. It feels wrong, given the circumstances, yet, here you are, trapped in a moment of perverse desire, all while grappling with the implications of your actions.

Biting down on your lip, you nod, completely entranced by the sight before you. Heeseung exudes a magnetic allure, his rugged appearance heightened by the faint spatters of blood on his hands, the intensity of his gaze drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Your eyes trace the contours of his form, from the slight tilt of his neck to the tantalising glimpse of his collarbone peeking out from beneath his low-cut black t-shirt.

Interpreting your nod as consent, Heeseung seizes Soonyeol by the neck and flings her to the ground with a forceful thud, sending a shiver down your spine that's equal parts fear and exhilaration as you hear a bone crack. Heeseung doesn’t need to care about a lifeless meat suit, not when the real Soonyeol is safe and sound in the doll you hand-picked for her.

Just as the room falls into a heavy silence, punctuated only by the echo of your racing heartbeat, a frantic knocking at the door shatters the calm. Jongseong's desperate pleas slice through the air, his voice laced with worry and fear. "Soonyeol?! Baby, are you in there? I can’t hear you anymore, angel…"

The sound of his desperate voice sends a pang of guilt coursing through you. Your heart clenches at the thought of Jongseong's anguish, his unwavering love for Soonyeol evident in every word he utters, every fibre of his soul. He must have felt something wrong once Heeseung - no, you - stuffed her into the tiny doll. 

You broke apart soulmates all for your selfish gain, so you could live happily. But what about him? Jongseong risked everything to be with Soonyeol and you took it from him with the snap of a neck. You cannot imagine having a soulmate being ripped from you that suddenly.

“Y/N? Are you in there? Jongseong, is she in there, is she hurt?” Jaeyun’s voice shadows Jongseong’s sobs as he asks questions that his elder doesn’t know the answer to; his focus is not on you but on his lover who he knows has suffered a terrible fate.

Your gaze shifts to Heeseung, searching for answers in the depths of his dark eyes. "Why can’t he feel her? I thought their souls were connected, not their bodies?" you ask, confusion clouding your thoughts.

Heeseung nods, his movements sleek and calculated as he approaches you. "She was his as long as she was alive, but she sold her soul to me, remember? As soon as she flatlines, she’s mine to own, not anyone else," he explains coldly, his tone devoid of remorse or sympathy.

Noticing your lust for the darker side wavering due to guilt, Heeseung tries to pull you back to him, his hands cradling your face as he forces you to look into his deep eyes. “Don’t listen to them, baby. You have spent your whole life searching for this moment. Don’t let them take it away from you.”

“But-”

"Shhh," Heeseung interjects, pressing a gentle, lover-like kiss to your lips. "Your desires are all that matters now. Think about it - if he truly loved her, he wouldn’t have sinned for you, fucked you like that behind her back." His words are calculated, an attempt to envelop you in the darkness, to paint your world in sinister shades of red and black. He watches your dark aura flicker as you take in his words and silently agree, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

Jongseong’s desperate cries from outside the door tear at your conscience, his pleas a stark contrast to Heeseung’s poisonous whispers. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N. You’re a good girl, remember?” he begs, his voice filled with sorrow and desperation. You hadn’t known they could hear you from here, then again, the walls are thin, hence why each time Jongseong asked to see you, it would be in a faraway room from Jaeyun or Sunghoon. Heeseung was right about one thing, he sinned with you, for you.

Jongseong’s anguish is palpable, his regret weighing heavily on him. He knows he’s betrayed Soonyeol, seeking forbidden pleasure with you. Yet, something within you drew him to sin, almost compelled him to become the man he swore he would never be.

Heeseung’s mocking grin widens, feeding off his brother’s inner turmoil. "You see, baby, everyone has a dark side. Even angels fall," he murmurs, his voice laced with satisfaction. He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe. “And why can he have everything he wants but you can’t?”

He makes a valid point, the feeling in your chest wavering as you think about it. Everyone around you has gotten their desires met, whether in relationships, financial stability, or their dream job. Jongseong gave in and got Soonyeol, Jaeyun wanted to be loved and got a family who cherishes him, and Sunghoon wanted to break free from the cell that kept him captive and a master who was out for blood, and he got solace in these walls.

Why can’t you be selfish like them? Why should you feel guilty for accepting an offer that all of them did so easily?

Watching you fight back, Heeseung's eyes pulse with a vivid red, knowing he needs only one final push to bring you back into his embrace, to unveil the true you. “Do you think I would have brought you here if you weren’t special?” he asks, stepping closer with predatory grace.

Confused, you knit your brows together and shake your head, searching his eyes for answers.

“My sweet, baby. I had to get you home,” he starts, softly running his fingers through your hair. “I’ve spent centuries on this earth, bound to one whore after another, searching high and low for my other half. It was so difficult, sweetheart, but I finally found you.”

You lean into his touch as he gently scratches behind your ear, your mind whirling with his words. What does he mean? You hadn’t met him before that day with Mia. When did you ever ask for his help?

Sensing your confusion, he continues. “You were so lonely, moving to the big city all on your own with no one to keep you safe. I heard you call out for guidance, for salvation once life bruised you. I felt compelled to help you, to bring you a lifetime of happiness.”

Breathing heavily, you shake your head. “I never called out to you, not like the others did.”

“Exactly. I could hear you even when God was meant to pick up your silent prayers, yet they filtered to me. Do you know why?” he asks, stroking your cheek softly as you shake your head. “You’re my girl, my beautiful Alaida. I searched heaven and earth for you the day Lucifer took you from me.”

Beelzebub and Alaida, two lovers torn apart due to Lucifer’s wrath. Alaida had made the mistake of asking for a legion of her own, to be respected on par with the others because she possessed powers that surpassed the Princes. She was beautiful, cunning, a Princess in her own right. But Lucifer, fearing she would surpass him, conspired with Mammon and Leviathan to kill her. It took three men to subdue one woman who hadn't even harnessed all her powers. It was a pathetic attempt to keep their dicks swinging low and the power in their hands.

Despite her death, Beelzebub never stopped searching. He knew the fire of her power could never be extinguished by pretenders to godhood, and that somewhere, she must have found a place to hide. She had often spoken of Earth, envying humans' simple existence, so he knew she would have sought refuge in a human vessel.

For years, Beelzebub answered any calls that might be her in disguise, hoping she would find someone worthy to keep her safe. Soonyeol was one such woman he thought might harbour his lover, and so he answered her call with hope.

But then, you cried out to him, turning his suspicions around. It was impossible to summon him in the Earthrealm without chanting his name, yet you did. Your soul, Alaida’s being, reached out to find him.

You breathe heavily, the weight of his words pressing on you. “I’m not Alaida… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper, though your thoughts scream otherwise. You've always felt a pull to Heeseung, but being his lost lover is something you cannot grasp.

“Oh, but baby, you are,” he says slowly, a slight laughter escaping his lips. “Once I heard you and had my suspicions, I convinced Soonyeol to place the ad for a house sitter and sent her to the other side of the world to collect an owed soul. Your friend Mia was an obstacle, but it didn’t take long to make that spineless bitch cower away.” Heeseung continues, planting soft, affectionate kisses on your face. “You are my love. I just had to tie myself to your soul to see it. Looking at you now, Y/N, with that power sparking from your soul, I know my Alaida is deep inside you. We are connected, you and I.”

“Y/N, don’t listen to him! He’s lying!” Jongseong’s raspy voice cuts through, causing your eyes to flicker to the door.

Heeseung won’t stand for the interruption, drawing your attention back with a gentle slap to your face, his cold rings adding to the shock of his actions. His eyes convey what his mouth does not, and suddenly, you do not wish to be guided by Jongseong; you need to be taken by Heeseung.

There’s a storm raging in your chest, an electrifying tempest that tells you Heeseung is right, that Alaida is indeed inside you. This fierce courage you’ve summoned to confront literal demons and defy the infernal powers - it had to be her. The transformation from the person who once quivered at the thought of answering a phone call from an unknown number to standing resolute before Heeseung speaks volumes. His presence ignites a power within you, a fire that feels both foreign and intimately familiar, like a lover’s caress stirring memories of a past life.

“You feel her, don’t you?” Heeseung’s voice is husky, dripping with dark allure, as if he’s reading your innermost thoughts. “I don’t know why she chose you, but you have to let her shine. She saw something in you that she hasn’t seen in over 600 years. You’re special, Y/N.”

Fear and awe mix in your trembling voice as you ask, “…will I lose myself if I do?”

Heeseung’s gaze softens, his eyes burning with a mix of fervour and tenderness. He moves closer, his presence overwhelming and comforting at the same time.

“Y/N, please, I don’t know what’s going on but I need you to listen to Jongseong, okay?” Jaeyun’s voice penetrates the heavy atmosphere, his confused desperation evident as he shouts through the door, desperately trying to break through the barrier both physical and metaphysical.

The air thickens with tension, every heartbeat echoing like a drum in your ears. Heeseung's grip tightens slightly, grounding you in the present. His touch is both an anchor and a reminder of the raw power that lies within you. The pull towards Heeseung, towards your true self as Alaida, feels like a gravitational force, irresistible and consuming.

Outside, Jongseong’s pleas grow more frantic, each word a dagger aimed at your conscience. “Y/N, don’t give in to him. Remember who you are!” His voice cracks with emotion, a stark contrast to Heeseung’s unwavering composure.

Heeseung’s eyes bore into yours, unyielding and confident. “You won’t lose yourself, my love. You’ll become who you were always meant to be.” 

As Heeseung’s words weave their spell around you, the power within you stirs, a dormant volcano on the brink of eruption. The weight of the decision presses down, yet there’s a clarity amidst the chaos. The pull of Alaida’s power, the connection shared with Heeseung, feels undeniably right. Heeseung watches in awe as the red light around you blossoms like a tulip in spring, unfurling into its true, ethereal form.

You stand on the precipice of your decision and the room around you seems to hold its breath, waiting. The doll with Soonyeol’s soul watches with unblinking eyes, a silent witness to the battle waging within you. The echoes of Jongseong and Jaeyun’s cries linger, a haunting reminder of the consequences of your actions.

Closing your eyes, you listen to your heart, letting its desire guide you.

And your heart wants Heeseung.

Opening your eyes, you gaze into Heeseung’s, your need to be consumed by this ancient love reflected in your expression. With a deep breath, you nod, surrendering to the inevitable. His eyes light up with a mixture of triumph and adoration as he steps closer, his presence overwhelming and comforting.

“My love, I’ve missed you so much,” he breathes out, his voice trembling with emotion.

Before you can respond, he captures your lips in a fervent kiss, enveloping you in his longing. The sensation of Heeseung’s black heart being yours to cherish sparks an overwhelming joy within you. His tongue entwines with yours, his kiss filled with a desperate passion that speaks of centuries of yearning. His hands tangle in your hair, gripping tightly as he pulls you closer, guiding you to the edge of the table where Soonyeol once lay.

The table’s cold surface presses against your back as Heeseung’s body moulds to yours, his touch igniting a fire that burns brighter with each passing second. His lips trail from your mouth to your jawline, then down your neck, leaving a scorching path in their wake. Every kiss, every touch, feels like a reclamation of a love that was cruelly stolen. 

“Y/N, you’re so fucking perfect I just want to rip you apart,” he murmurs into your nape, his hands gripping your waist possessively.

You pull his head back, your eyes locking deeply into his, a storm of emotions swirling within them. “Don’t go easy on me,” you smile, almost innocently but with a daring challenge. He crumbles beneath you, his resolve melting as he hears his lover's whispered words leave your mouth.

“Fuck, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he laughs wickedly before claiming your mouth with his once again. His kiss is fierce and demanding, pulling you to sit at the edge of the table. His hands, strong and unyielding, move with purpose, tearing away your clothes piece by piece. Each shred of fabric falling to the floor is a testament to his strength and desperation to feel your skin against his.

The room fills with the sound of tearing cloth and your heavy breaths, the air charged with anticipation and raw need. Heeseung’s eyes devour you, his gaze dark and intense, as though he’s trying to memorize every inch of your exposed skin. His hands follow his eyes, caressing and gripping, leaving no part of you untouched.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice low and possessive, a promise and a declaration all at once. His hands slide up your thighs, spreading them apart as he sinks to his knees before you. “All mine.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, anticipation and desire coursing through you. His hands grip your thighs firmly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he gazes up at you with a hunger that makes your heart race. The sight of him kneeling between your legs, his dark eyes filled with unbridled lust and possessiveness, is enough to make your breath hitch.

Heeseung's mouth hovers just above your skin, his nose ghosting over your most sensitive areas. He takes his time, savouring the moment, his eyes never leaving yours. The tension builds, a delicious agony as you wait for him to touch you.

When his lips finally make contact, it's like an electric jolt, pleasure radiating from the point of contact throughout your entire body. His tongue traces a path along your inner thigh, the sensation both torturous and exhilarating. Heeseung's touch is rough yet tender, a perfect blend of dominance and affection that leaves you breathless.

Biting at your skin, he leaves a trail of teeth marks as a sign of possession. The sensation makes your body squirm, needing him even more than you have over the past two months. With Alaida swirling inside of you, you feel even more desperate for his touch, her soul craving to be claimed by Beelzebub once more.

Finally, his mouth attaches itself where you need it the most, his tongue working on your clit with eagerness. Each flick of his muscle sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, building the heat in your core to a fever pitch. He knows exactly how to drive you wild, his movements deliberate and skilled as he worships you with his mouth.

You arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him, urging him to take you higher. He responds with a growl of approval, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he delves deeper into your pleasure. The intensity of his touch is overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with each passing moment.

His teeth sink down on your clit with force which makes you howl out, mixing with the sobs of the angels who occupy the other side of the door. “Fuck, Heeseung, do it again,” you huff out, grasping at his roots to urge him on.

“You always were a glutton for punishment,” he sneers, biting down on your sensitive flesh. The sting is sharp, sending a jolt through your body that leaves you craving more. It all starts to make sense now, the love you had for the punishment Jongseong gave you on the altar; it wasn’t a newfound kink, it was Alaida - she loves it rough.

And now, so do you.

Heeseung’s mouth is relentless, his tongue and lips working with expert precision as he rises from his knees. He doesn’t break contact for a second, lifting your hips effortlessly to meet his mouth. Your back lies flat on the table, your body arching instinctively towards him, each touch of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through you. His hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place, their strength both reassuring and dominant.

The room is filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and his eager, hungry ministrations. Heeseung’s eyes lock onto yours, their dark intensity burning with desire. 

Your hands clutch at the edge of the table, knuckles white from the force of your grip as you lose yourself in the sensation. Every nerve ending is alive with electricity, every inch of your skin hypersensitive to his touch, the warmth of his lips against your most intimate places.

Heeseung’s mouth is everywhere at once, his tongue circling your clit before plunging deep inside you, exploring and tasting with an insatiable hunger. The pressure builds within you, a coil winding tighter and tighter, each flick of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge. His fingers dig into your flesh, marking you as his, a physical reminder of his claim over you.

Moving your hips in a rocking motion, he guides you to ride his face while he works in tandem with his tongue to bring you to the edge. His lips, soft yet demanding, latch onto your swollen clit with a hunger that mirrors your own. He sucks and nibbles with relentless vigour, coaxing waves of pleasure to cascade over you in an unending tide. The combination of his tongue and lips creates a symphony of sensation that brings you to the edge.

“I'm cumming, Heeseung," you gasp, your voice heavy with yearning as your body convulses with the force of your climax. Every fibre of your being ignites with pleasure, sending sparks of ecstasy coursing through your veins.

Heeseung's name tumbles from your lips like a fervent prayer, a plea for release and surrender. With each pulse of pleasure, you feel yourself lost in a whirlwind of sensation.

And then it happens. A bolt of white-hot ecstasy shoots through you, shattering your senses as you spiral into the abyss of euphoria. Your entire body convulses with the force of your release, every muscle tensing and relaxing in perfect harmony with the waves of pleasure crashing over you.

Heeseung doesn't let up, his mouth continuing to work its magic as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. He drinks in every moan and whimper, every twitch and tremble, savouring the taste of your pleasure as if it were the finest delicacy known to man.

Finally, as the last echoes of your cries fade into the ether, you collapse against the table, your body spent and sated. Heeseung's lips linger against your skin, pressing soft kisses against your thighs before letting go of your hips as you bask in the afterglow of your passion.

With a firm hand, he delivers a sharp slap to your clit, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. Your back arches in response, your breath catching in your throat as the sensation radiates from your core to your shoulders. He revels in the power he holds over you, his smirk widening as he watches your body react to him. 

His touch is both punishment and reward as he continues, “You’re going to cum again,” he growls, not as a prediction but an order; one you are happy to obey. 

As the intensity increases with every slap, you find yourself squirming, aching to get away but longing to stay and take it. Heeseung is skilled at taking you to the edge, and he takes pride in your every sound of agony and gasp.

“T-too much, Heeseung.” Your plea escapes your lips in a desperate whimper, the overwhelming sensation of your overstimulated nub pushing you to the brink of your boundaries. It's a dizzying mix of pleasure and suffering, with each touch sending shockwaves of sensations rushing through your body.

“You can take it,” he says authoritatively, landing another harsh slap to your reddened pussy. “Once you cum, I’ll stop.”

So you relax your body as much as you can given the circumstances, focusing on the rapture of it. Heeseung watches you give in and licks his lips, using the opportunity to unleash his sadistic need to power over you. With rapid hits, he doesn’t give your clit time to breathe as he smacks it over and over again.

Somehow, the faster he’s going, the more enjoyable it is, “Holy shit, Hee!” you scream out. Your hands claw at your thighs as you force them to stay open, enjoying the beating your heat is receiving. Your body bucks against his relentless assault, the sting of each impact resonates deep within you, igniting a primal fire that courses through your veins.

“Such a perfect little princess,” he chides, alternating his hands to quicken the pace. 

As his fingers graze down your pussy with each hit, you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion. The rhythm of his assault becomes hypnotic, driving you closer and closer to the brink with every stroke. Your skin tingles with anticipation, every nerve ending alive with the electric charge of desire.

And then, just when you think you can't take anymore, it happens. Your body convulses with the force of your release, pleasure exploding through every fibre of your being as you cry out his name. The intensity of it all is overwhelming, a whirlwind of ecstasy that consumes you whole.

Heeseung's movements falter for a moment, his touch gentling as he guides you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. His fingers trace soothing patterns against your skin, each caress a balm to the raw, pulsating heat between your legs. 

Your essence drips down your pussy onto the table, creating a sheen that Heeseung can see his reflection in. His eyes are blown out red, succumbing to the demon within him as he brings you gratification.

As you descend from the soaring heights of bliss, you quiver from exhaustion. Heeseung's lips brush over your flesh, planting sweet kisses on your thighs while murmuring words of appreciation and devotion. 

“You did well, baby. So fucking good for me,” he utters into your skin. Heeseung's lips trail a path of reverence up your body. Each kiss feels like a benediction, a testament to the intensity of your connection. As he reaches your tummy, his tongue darts out to taste the salty-sweet sheen of sweat, his movements slow and deliberate.

The tenderness of his touch contrasts sharply with the raw passion that still lingers in the air “You’re mine, all mine,” he whispers against your skin like a mantra, affirming your worth and igniting a spark of warmth.

With each kiss and lick, he worships your body as though you are a sacred temple, his devotion evident in every caress. And as he finally reaches your breasts, his lips envelop one nipple in a gentle suck, giving it attention as it stands proudly for him.

His fingers glide up the curves of your body, tracing delicate trails that elicit a gasp from your lips. A smirk dances across his face as he captures the sound, his nails leaving faint imprints along the way. With a playful tug, he ensnares your bud between his teeth, pulling at it before releasing with a teasing flourish.

Taking hold of your throat, he draws you closer, his gaze ravenous as he savours every contour of your face. “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby, you’ll be crying out for God to save you.” His words make you mewl out, chasing his lips with yours as you seek his unholy kisses, yet he denies you, shaking his head playfully. “Bad girls get kisses, so show me how bad you can be.”

Without breaking his gaze, you nod and shimmy yourself once again to the edge of the table, spreading your legs as wide as they can go, showing your eagerness to please him. The sight before him makes Heeseung’s eyes pulse and his doll shell shiver. You’re a vision no higher power could ever create.

You’re a gift from hell.

Positioning himself at your entrance, he plunges in with unbridled urgency, sending waves of shock and lust through your body. The suddenness of his movement catches you off guard, but the sensation is electrifying, sparking a starving hunger deep within you. 

He sets a steady rhythm, thrusting into you with determination to ensure that this is the best fuck of your life, to make sure you know that he is the only one that can give you what you need. 

Your walls clench around him in response to his fastening pace, your body instinctively welcoming him as he delves deeper, the tip of his cock hitting your deep spot. Each movement is calculated and deliberate, each thrust a testament to his demonic desire as he sets a punishing flow that leaves you trembling with pleasure.

With a raw intensity, he takes you roughly, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out of your wet heat. A moan escapes your lips as you feel him stuff you to the brink, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. He's holding nothing back, fucking into you the way he knows you like, the way his Alaida likes it.

“You’re so good at taking my cock,” he grunts out through gritted teeth. “Tell them how good it feels to be fucked like this.” By them you know he means the two weeping angels who are still outside of the door, their pleas for you to stop swallowed by your loud moans.

“I love your cock. You fuck me so good, Heeseung. I want you to fuck me forever,” you exclaim, gripping his neck as stability, staring intensely into his beautiful crimson eyes. You steal a kiss, closing your eyes at his soft lips melting into yours. He doesn’t reprimand you for it, instead, he ravishes you with mirrored passion, his hips never faltering.

"You don't need to sell your soul for me to grant that wish, baby," Heeseung growls between heated kisses, his voice rough with desire.

You respond with a desperate moan, arching your back to meet his every thrust. "Don't stop," you plead, your nails digging into his skin as you cling to him, lost in the overwhelming sensations.

Heeseung's growl reverberates through the room as he bucks his hips with increasing urgency, driving deeper into you with each thrust. His voice, rough with desire, commands your attention. "Tell them you belong to me, and I'll give you whatever you need. I'll go as long as you want."

Without hesitation, you nod fervently, your voice hoarse as you cry out his name along with the words he craves to hear. "I belong to you, Heeseung. Only you," you gasp, the declaration punctuated by a sharp intake of breath as pleasure courses through your veins.

His hand tightens around your throat, a rough but controlled grip that sends shivers down your spine. In one swift motion, he pushes you back onto the table roughly, the sudden crash of your skull on the wooden surface causing your head to crack and spin with dizzying intensity. Yet, far from unsettling you, the sensation only serves to heighten the exhilarating rush of desire pumping in your body.

Pushing your head to the side with a firm grip, Heeseung forces you to face the sight of Soonyeol's lifeless form. The vibrant energy that once animated her is now replaced by a haunting stillness, her body lying pale and broken before you.

"Tell her," Heeseung's voice is low, his tone commanding as he demands your acknowledgement of the grim reality before you. 

You should be repulsed, the sight of Soonyeol's lifeless body enough to shatter the euphoria of the moment. But instead, there's an unsettling allure, a twisted fascination in knowing that what once belonged to her is now yours and she has no way to steal it back from you. Her dolls, her house, Heeseung -  it all belongs to you now, a chilling testament to the power you hold over her legacy.

"I'm Heeseung's, only his," you declare, your voice wavering slightly as conflicting emotions swirl within you. Alaida gleams at the sight, happy that her lover is now only hers, but you still feel sorrow for the girl. 

Conflicting emotions swirl within you like a tumultuous storm, battling for dominance as you and Heeseung's ancient love wrestle for control of your consciousness. But deep down, you understand that you are her now, and she is you - merged together in a dance of shared existence. There is no longer a distinction between you versus her; she chose you to carry her soul, binding you together in a singular entity.

In the wake of Alaida's inhumane recklessness, it falls upon you to navigate the delicate balance between humanity and evil. Despite the darkness that threatens to consume you, you cling to the flicker of compassion that still burns within your heart, a beacon of light amidst the shadows. You had to fight against her demons with your light.

Heeseung's grip tightens on your head as he pounds into you with unrelenting force, his touch igniting a fiery ache that resonates through your exhausted body. With each harsh thrust, he draws you closer to the edge, his touch a symphony of sensation that pushes you towards the brink of ecstasy.

Your walls tighten around him, the feeling of your impending release building with each thrust. As you sense yourself slipping over the edge, elation consuming you in its fiery embrace, you try to banish thoughts of his old minder from your thoughts. The sight of her is far from erotic, and you struggle to maintain focus amidst the conflicting desires of Alaida that tug at your consciousness.

"Heeseung, please," you plead, your voice a desperate cry for respite from the haunting images that threaten to intrude upon your pleasure. 

Relenting to your plea, Heeseung releases his hold on your head, his hips slowing their frenzied pace as he responds to your need for a change in position. With a deft movement, he tosses your legs over his shoulder, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he locks you in place, your focus now on him as he leans over to kiss you.

The messy buck of Heeseung's hips betrays his impending climax, his jaw slack and eyes screwed shut as he fights to maintain control. The sight of you, glistening and writhing before him, threatens to throw him over the edge, but he grinds his teeth, determined to hang on just long enough for you both to reach the peak together.

With a newfound sense of intensity, he resumes his actions, expertly rubbing your clit. The rawness infuses your body, sparking a fire that becomes hotter with each passing moment.

"Cum for me, baby. Do it," Heeseung orders through the veil of pleasure, his voice husky with want as he drives you to release. In this moment of shared intimacy, there is no place for doubt as you give in to the euphoria, your shouts combining with his as you both succumb to overpowering pleasure.

You clench around him as you cum for the third time tonight. Every muscle in your body tenses as you reach the heights of your pleasure. Heeseung's release joins yours, his seed shooting into you and coating your walls. The sensation of his warmth flooding your depths only serves to intensify your own climax, amplifying the euphoria that courses through your veins.

He kisses you as your heartbeat steadies, his tongue whirling in your mouth as he pumps slowly into you before pausing his hips to let the final flow of his cum sit deep inside you. There’s that shine of red light as you take all of him, all that he offers. 

"Y/N..." Jaeyun's voice breaks the intimate moment, a soft plea tinged with desperation as his fist drags down the door. You can almost hear the tears in his eyes and the sorrow in his voice as he realises he has lost you; the doll, defeated, reflects the anguish of being replaced, claimed by another.

Heeseung strokes your face gently, his touch a soothing balm to your conflicted soul. He sees the war in your eyes, the shift between lust and guilt. "He doesn't understand you like I do, baby," he murmurs, his voice a blend of affection and firmness. His words wrap around you, reassuring you of the unique connection you share. 

You battle within yourself as you feel Alaida settle inside of you. If she has chosen you, then that means she must have always been here with you, through everything, a silent passenger in your life. But now, thanks to Heeseung, she has made herself known, you’ve let her in to become one with you.

She feels both euphoric and dangerous, her presence a heady mix of power and peril. Your heart aches to leap out of your chest, to be with Jaeyun, to comfort him in his pain, to tell him you're sorry and that it will never happen again. Yet, her yearning to stay with Heeseung, who cradles you with possessive tenderness, is overwhelmingly strong.

You realise you will need to find a balance between you and Alaida if this is how you are to live. You can sense the darkness within her, the same ominous aura that surrounds Heeseung, but you cling to your humanity, determined not to lose yourself completely. If she is to stay, she must let you take the lead.

And right now, you’re in desperate need to fix this.

Heeseung sees your demeanour change and slowly slides out of you with a wet slick, his cock glistening with your juices. Running his fingers through your hair which for some reason opens the floodgates of your eyes, the tears that you couldn’t weep earlier when facing Soonyeol suddenly come crashing down. 

“Y/N, why are you crying?” he asks puzzled, shushing you softly, “You wanted this life and now you have it. You should be happy.”

His tone is understanding but you can sense the annoyance underlining his words. He knows you’re still a human but he didn’t think you would be crying for the sake of a girl who you hardly knew. But it wasn’t just her you are crying for, it’s her dolls, your dolls. How are you meant to live happily in this house when all of them but Heeseung will probably detest you?

Even the thought sends a new rush of disdain to your heart, eliciting another sob from your lips. “I didn’t want it like this, the others will hate me and I can’t live like that,” you cry, sucking in sharp breaths to self-soothe yourself and prevent yourself from hyperventilating. Although you’re going through emotional turmoil, it’s nice to know that you’re still you after all.

“If they hate you, I’ll kill them,” Heeseung says, shrugging his shoulders and wiping your tears away, “If any of them even look at you the wrong way I will make sure they suffer.”

You don’t want that, you want nothing but their happiness inside this mansion and with what you’ve done, that might be hard for them to achieve. If Heeseung kills them or tortures them in any way, then it would only hurt you more. The tears flow freely as you think about the dolls and their fate, clinging to Heeseung’s wrists as you squeeze. “Heeseung, please,” you beg with the Prince, glancing up at him in hopes the waterworks are enough to persuade him to leave them unharmed.

He can’t blame them for hating you when you banished their lover to the hollow cell of the porcelain doll.

Rolling his eyes, he huffs out a frustrated growl. “Okay, I hear you, baby. Stop fucking crying.” His voice is curt and authoritative, but as you cower slightly, he softens. He places a tender kiss on your nose, his demeanour shifting from unimpressed to slightly more compassionate. Now that you harbour his first love in your heart, he’s become a bit more lenient with you.

“Just close your eyes and cover your eyes,” he murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Don’t move until I tell you to, okay?”

Obeying, you nod and close your eyes, your hands pressed against the canals of your ears. You cannot hear or see anything but just to make sure, Heeseung places his hands over yours and presses tight. The pressure on your head is sore but you grit and bear it.

He keeps you like this for a while, the very faint sound of his voice vibrating in your skull as the decibels run from his mouth down his doll form. You wonder if this is it? If he has found his Alaida, surely he could just whisk you out of this body and into a doll just as he had done Soonyeol. Your soul is merged with his lovers but that doesn’t mean you’re safe. Maybe he is already sick of you, maybe-

“Open your eyes, Princess,” he utters lowly, releasing his grasp from your head and kissing your forehead. 

He can’t get rid of you, because he loves you. Not as Alaida but as Y/N. His actions speak what he refuses to. There’s a new version of Heeseung standing in front of you, the version you witnessed as he fucked you a few weeks ago, the demon in him relenting to make way for his humanity to shine through. Heeseung said you were his and only his and he meant every word of it.

That does beg to question: what he has just done, if nothing to you?

You blink your eyes open and strain to focus your hearing. Silence greets you—no more cries from Jaeyun, no banging on the door from Jongseong, nothing at all. The first emotion you feel is fear, a petrifying dread that he might have taken them away from you. You cannot bear to lose them because then what was all of this for?

"Heeseung," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Where are they? What have you done?"

Heeseung's eyes soften momentarily as he strokes your cheek, but there's a sinister glint in his eyes. "They're fine," he reassures you, his voice low and deceptively soothing. "I haven’t hurt them... yet. I’ve rewound their soul clock to an hour ago. Anything that happened within the past hour is lost on them."

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, a stark reminder of the power he wields and the casual way he manipulates the lives around him. "What if they remember?" you ask, trying to keep the fear out of your voice.

Heeseung's smile is cold, his grip on your cheek tightening slightly. "They won’t, but if they do... well, I have ways of ensuring their silence." His tone is almost playful, but the underlying menace is unmistakable. “But if we want to keep this between us right now, we have some cleaning up to do.”

Swiftly, he moves to grab Soonyeol’s body, carrying her with disconcerting ease to the freestanding wardrobe and stuffing her in there. You sit in stunned silence, watching as he disposes of the lifeless form with a casual efficiency that makes your blood run cold. The contrast between his tenderness towards you and his ruthless treatment of others leaves you reeling.

You can't believe how easily everything has turned in your favour, or how effortlessly Heeseung wields his power. His dominance is both intoxicating and terrifying, and you realise just how deeply you're entangled in his web.

Heeseung closes the wardrobe door with a finality that sends a shiver down your spine. He turns back to you, his expression a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness. "See, Princess? There's nothing we can't handle together," he says, his voice low and smooth. “We will keep her in there for now until I move her car.  Can you distract them, baby?” 

Picking up your clothes, he hands them to you before getting himself dressed. Time is not on his side before Jongseong starts asking questions.

You look around the space and breathe a sigh of relief. Of course, it’s wrong to want your cake and eat it too, but nothing feels as good as this moment. This house, the dolls you love so deeply—they are all yours to own. And you have one Lord of the Flies to thank.

“Heeseung?” you begin, hopping off the table and walking to hug him tight. “Thank you.”

Shaking his head, he wraps his arms around you and kisses the crown of your head. “I will give you anything you want in this life. Anything for my girl.” Drawing back, you stare up at him, any emotion but gratification and love now vanished—it's amazing how quickly a guilty conscience can be smothered by love.

“Thank you for bringing her to me,” he whispers. You think he is talking to you directly, gratitude flowing in his words as you brought his Princess here. But he is talking to Alaida. The ancient demon knew you would be the perfect person to love Heeseung just as she had, and that is why you were chosen.

As you finish dressing, Heeseung's eyes follow your movements with a predatory intensity. “Distract them well, baby,” he says, his voice softening into a dangerous whisper. “Make sure they don’t suspect a thing. And put this doll back where you found it.”

Heeseung reaches around to grab the doll and kisses it softly, finalising his relationship with the soul within. He hands her to you with care, much more tender than the body she possessed. You like to think that the fondness he had for Soonyeol wasn’t just in the hopes that she was his long-lost lover but because they formed a bond. Perhaps that has more to do with your hope that Beelzebub withholds some humanity inside him in the form of Heeseung.

“Lock the door when you leave,” he asks, planting one final kiss on your forehead before retreating to the entrance to rid the house of Soonyeol’s car before the other dolls see.

You hold Soonyeol carefully, feeling the weight of the soul it contains. The doll's eyes seem to stare back at you, empty yet full of a lingering presence. You exit the room and lock it as instructed, cradling her in your arms as you walk up the hallway. The walk there is tiresome, in all honesty, you would just shove her on the first available spot but that’s just Alaida talking, you want to give her the respect she deserves. It’s the least you could do considering you did this to her.

Placing it gently in its original spot, you take a moment to steady yourself. You straighten her purple-tinted dress and fix her hair fondly, hoping that Soonyeol could at least find some peace inside the beautiful girl. The blood from Soonyeol’s body is still marked on the doll, so you quickly lick your thumb and wipe it away, the red staining your fingers.

Staring down at the blood, you feel compelled to suck the crimson up like a vampire in need of a feast. The metallic scent fills your nostrils, intoxicating and primal. You bring your thumb back to your lips and sip the blood, savouring her taste on your buds; she is sweet, just like her soul. The warmth of the blood sends a shiver of delight through you, a macabre indulgence that leaves you yearning for more.

Just in time, Jongseong appears beside you. Your stomach churns with dread, wondering if he would remember anything at all from the previous hour. Panic flares momentarily in your chest, but you force it down, steeling yourself.

To your relief, Jongseong doesn’t seem upset. Instead, he kisses your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering with a brotherly warmth. He gently wipes away the tears that had crusted on your face from earlier. “You’re going to miss this place, huh?” he asks, oblivious to the truth surrounding him.

Now is the time to put those drama classes you took when you were 14 to good use and fake it until you make it. Nodding pitifully, you pout up at him, your eyes shimmering with feigned sorrow. “I’m going to miss all of you more than the cleaning, I’ll say that,” you giggle, reaching for his hand, interlocking your fingers together.

The action makes Jongseong mirror your pout, his expression softening as he buys every word you say. “Fuck, I think we’ll all miss you, Jaeyun mostly though.” He goes to say more but he stops himself, making you tilt your head in wonder. A flicker of something crosses his face, a hint of a secret he’s holding back. 

Brushing it off, he shakes his head and smiles, trying to dispel whatever thoughts had crossed his mind. “Soonyeol isn’t home yet. Do you want a cup of coffee while we wait?”

This is your chance to keep them distracted, to lure them away from this side of the mansion while Heeseung cleans up your mess. With a beaming grin, you shake your head in agreement, “I would love one. Let’s grab the others.”

Pulling him in the direction of the kitchen, he wraps an arm around you and walks alongside you, unknowing of what is to come. You glance back at Soonyeol and suddenly, you see a tear fall from her ceramic eyes. She’s crying because she is watching you steal her life, her love, and she cannot do one thing about it.

A smirk plasters on your face and the red in your eye gleams at her sorrow, happiness filling your chest as you finally come to terms with the fact that your dreams have finally come true.

You’re home.

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[hybridirl]

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18+ only, please!

ellie x f!loser!reader x abby

a/n: sorry for the long wait! i was with my family the past week celebrating a holiday :)!! now i’m back and i’m gonna try and pump out a few. i am in fact working on the ellie x loser!reader pt2, so pls bear with me! i’m still thinking up ideas. this shit is harddd

brief summary: ellie and abby are the bestest of friends, and you’re… there. they kinda feel bad for you, so they bring home some of the “good shit” for a game. never have i ever? with shots. reversed. haven’t done it? drink!!!

tw / AU, *DUBCON* (reader is drunk (but so is ellie and abby)), strap-on, use of y/n, cunnilingus (r and e receiving), tit-slapping, porn no plot, rushed sex, threesome, reader gets referred to as “girl”

ᡣ𐭩

watching tiktoks for hours on end was never your proudest pastime, especially when your two roommates were constantly out partying. you, honestly, were a third wheel. well, to be fair, you came into this friendship way after these two had already been established as this inseparable duo. still, being a friend - even if it’s not as deep - doesn’t mean you should be excluded from their little activities.

so, this is how your night has gone so far: moping around, trying to bake some cookies you found on tiktok, and binging tiktok. you sat on the island of the kitchen, a frown plastered on your face as you munched on your fifth cookie.

you glanced at the clock: 11:35 PM. you knew exactly what this meant; one of them is slutting themselves out while the other waits to drive themselves home. god, how it aggravated you! - how easily they could get into someone’s pants by just looking at them while you had to ease your way into it. that slow, smooth talking you, except it rarely ever worked and you came off as a creep. the pickup lines from reddit don’t seem to work in reality, huh?

pulling yourself off the counter and shoving the last piece of cookie into your mouth, you wondered why you stayed up until they came back. maybe you were just a little afraid to go to sleep alone, maybe you were just simply lonely. you wanted them to come home, tell you about their day and get envious at their friendship that you weren’t in on and that you didn’t have. poor you. you were like a watchdog, always staying up and looking out until your ‘owners’ came along, praising you for your good work so you could get your little dopamine rush. you even whimpered, just a little, as you sat on the couch to watch some cheesy drama movie that you had zero interest in. about thirty minutes in, the door opens. you turn your head and watch your two acquaintances walk in, both holding a suspiciously shaped brown bag.

“hey,” you greet, “what’re those?” you pointed toward the bags in their hands.

“just stuff for you,” ellie chirped first, setting the bag on the coffee table.

“us, she means,” abby cut in, setting hers down. you watched as they revealed what was shielded from her viewing: two tall bottles of ‘devil’s spring vodka.’

you cocked your head to the side and spoke, “for us? what for?” they gave you a ‘what do you think?’ look before ellie headed off to get three shot glasses. she placed one in front of you, abby, and herself.

“so, y/n,” abby began, popping the top and pouring some into each glass. “we know you’re lonely and we thought we’d do something for you, huh? sound good?” you pursed your lips and nodded, completely weirded out by this interaction.

“we’re gonna play a game,” ellie said, circling her glass with her hands. “it’s like ‘never have i ever.’ ever played?” you nodded. “good. so, each time someone says something you haven’t done, you take a shot. got it?” you nod again. “a—lright, you guys ready?” abby smiles and raises her hand.

“i’ll go first,” she told, an obvious mischievous glint in her eye, “let’s start of tame. so, y/n, have you ever… kissed someone in public? i’m not talking a little peck, i’m talking seriously making out.” your face heated, and your jaw dropped just slightly. you thought about lying, of course, just to seem cool, but, you knew they’d know.

“i-i… no, i haven’t,” you muttered out, shakily reaching your hand toward your glass. you took a sip, wincing at the burn in your throat.

“c’mon, y/n, the whole thing,” ellie chuckled at your ministrations. you whimpered silently before your head tilted back, gulping the rest down.

“ugh,” you groaned as you set it down and watched as ellie pour more into your glass. you had a feeling this was going to be a long night.

“okay, my turn,” ellie giggled, looking at the two of you. “okay, y/n, have you ever… had someone motorboat you?” your brows furrowed immediately.

“m-motorboat? i, well, um… no.”

“drink up then, girl.” they watched as you took another brave shot, your face contorting into what looked like pain, and, to be fair, it was painful.

you were about to speak, for your turn, but abby interrupted quickly, barely even noticing your open mouth, “my turn, huh?” abby questioned. your jaw shut right back up, letting her take the lead. letting her do her thing. “so, y/n, ever, i don’t know, let’s get a little crazier with this one, yeah? ever been in a threesome?”

you stared at abby with wide eyes, why are they asking you this stuff? why only you?

“no…” you whispered, continuing your stare on her as you went to take yet another shot. you were already starting to feel a buzz, already starting to feel the heat in your tummy. with a slightly clouded head, you turned to ellie. she was smirking, her eyes knowing as her lips parted once more.

“how about you give it a go?” ellie asked you, and you felt some relief.

“h-have you guys ever, um… have you guys ever… had a threesome?” you asked in a low voice. you watched abby roll her eyes and go to grab her glass, as with ellie.

“o—kay, my turn,” ellie clasped her hands together, after setting her glass back down, “ever taken it up the ass, y/n?”

“why are you only asking me?” you gawked, reaching for your glass. you took the next shot, and felt a sudden need for more.

“because we already know what we’ve did,” abby replied, another shot of the vodka slithering down her throat. “mm, that’s some good shit. so, y/n, have you ever topped?” you sighed as you reached for the glass once more. “oh, so you’re a bottom? figures. i mean, look at you.” you looked up at her, slightly offended whilst your hands went to pour yourself another shot.

“have you guys ever, uh, had public… sex?” you found yourself boldly asking, obvious that this drink was getting to you. they both raised their glasses to their lips.

this went on and on, mostly them asking you, you sometimes asking them until you were all drunk out of your minds.

“y/n,” ellie finally groaned and she scooted closer to you. you hadn’t realized the proximity of them both, slowly decreasing as the night went on. you hummed a response, your eyes half closed and your face hot. “h’ve you ever, uh, fantasized? about us?” ellie asked, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. your hand didn’t reach for the glass, rather you simply stared into those green eyes. “yeah? you have? why didn’t you tell us? we coulda’ made all of your dreams come true, sweetheart,” she whispered, her hand meeting your waist.

“i-i was n-nervous,” you whined, “didn’ wanna say anythin’…”

“y/n, baby,” abby purred into your ear, “you don’ gotta be nervous ‘round us.” your head throbbed as you bit your lip; their hands explored your body, slowly molding you into your arousal. you wondered if this was their plan all along as their fingers danced around your PJs, caressing your inner thighs…

“please,” you whispered and their eyes flickered toward you. “…t-touch me…” you sighed blissfully as ellie’s hand finally met with your pajama-clad vulva. abby’s head dipped into the crook of your neck; she kissed up your neck and throat, then tilted your head toward hers to kiss your lips. sloppily, her tongue slipped into your mouth, prodding and massaging your tongue. your own mingled with hers, dancing around each other’s. you barely noticed your bottoms being tugged down, only realizing once the chill of the air hit your heat.

“lemme taste ‘er first,” abby said quickly as she pulled away from your swollen lips.

“no,” ellie whined, tugging your body toward hers.

“it was my idea,” she growled in return, “now let me have her first.” ellie huffed, but let go. she took asylum in your breasts; lifting your shirt up, she immediately dove into your mounds. she licked up to your nipple, taking it between her lips. you let out a broken moan as she nibbled on your sensitive bud, her tongue swirling around your pebbling nipples.

abby slid your legs open with her hands, spreading your labia with her thumb.

“how long h’ve you been this wet, y/n?” an obvious rhetorical question. you were too occupied with ellie and the worship of your breasts.

“a’w-while,” you managed to croak, though. you heard her chuckle and felt your body being tugged toward her more. “mmf, abby, be gentle…” ellie watched as abby’s head dipped between your legs, then her eyes flickered to your face to watch it contort in pleasurable expressions. “abby… ngh…” your hand reached to tug at her blonde hair, earning a groan from her lips.

“i heard she’s a p-pro,” ellie whispered to you while she tugged off her bottoms. your eyes fluttered, staring dazed at the sight of her pussy.

“want,” you purred out. ellie only smirked at you, her hands moving in to shove you down onto the couch. her legs straddled your head and she lowered herself onto you without warning, virtually smothering you. “mmf!” your brows were furrowed, your nose smooshed against her wet cunt. she ground her hips into your face, covering it in her slick.

“c’mon, y/n, thought you wanted it.” your doe eyes kept gazing up at her and you began to do the best you could with her weight in your face, your tongue working hard against her swollen clit.

both of the feelings were intoxicating, abby at your pussy, you at ellie’s. your legs tightened around abby’s head as her fingers found your g-spot, thrusting her fingers in and out of you. you moan into ellie, slurping at the nectar leaking from her. you’re so intoxicated, you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or this delicious feeling. your hands gripped ellie’s sides and you pulled her closer. you were whimpering, moaning, abby’s tongue wriggling into you, her fingernails digging into your plush thighs.

“mmm!” you cried, your eyes shutting as you felt a knot in your stomach begin to uncoil, your juices coating abby’s tongue and face.

“ahn, yeah,” abby groaned. “righ’ on my tongue, sweethear’.” your eyes were rolling, face scrunched in pleasure. it was a sure sight for ellie, drawing - no, forcing ellie’s own climax to follow suit. her arousal painted you, creaming on your face as she held your head close to her.

“oh, god, please please please — fuck!”

she ground against you, riding her orgasm out in your face. her clit bumped your nose, and your hands gripped her hips, slowly guiding her to a halt as she came down. as she got up from you, she took a moment to admire her work. your face looked so exhausted, wet with her, and needy for more.

“abby,” ellie said, “g-go get the…” she gestured into the direction of the bedrooms, then abby knew what she was talking about. she made her way into one the bedrooms, who knows which, and rummaged through. you watched the hallway curiously, ready for her arrival. you tried to sit up, but ellie only grabbed you, laying you down on her thighs. when abby came out, you were surprised to find her pant-less, and with a harness strapped to her person, not to mention a dildo hanging from it. she approached, slow and cautious steps. you couldn’t tell if she was trying to tease you or try to get you into the idea.

“you wan’ it?” she asked you, slowly crawling into the sofa, then nudging and prodding your wetness with the head.

“wan’ it.”

“alrigh’, sweet girl,” she breathed, easing the head into your slippery entrance. “good?” you nodded your head, egging her on silently.

“abby,” you moaned breathlessly. she shushed you, halting her movements so you could get used to her. she ran her rough hands down your sides, down, down, to your clit, gently rubbing it to make you feel some sort of goodness as she stood still. “move, please,” you whimpered.

“y/n, you should see ‘yer face right now,” ellie giggled, caressing the side of your head. “god, y’so pretty. fuck ‘er, abby, hurry. look at ‘er face.” abby rolled her eyes, not usually taking commands. she was going to anyway, but…

“oh!” you gasped from her sudden movements, a tight snap from her hips. “f-fuck!”

“mmm, ‘n moans so pretty,” ellie praised, “didn’ get to hear ‘ya so well when you were under me. gettin’ smothered by my pussy... mhm…” she caressed your face again, cupping your cheeks as abby began to pound you.

“abby!” you cried to her, eyes shut tight, hands flailing to find somewhere to rest. they found abby’s biceps, gripping them tightly as she slapped her hips against yours. “please, ngh!” you grit your teeth, jaw clenched while pleasure overtook you.

“eyes open,” abby growled, “‘n on me.” you had to fight yourself to open your eyes, but the sight in front of you was perfect. abby’s blonde hair sticking to her forehead, her braid dangling and swinging with each thrust, her slack jaw, fuck. “yeah, ‘atta girl.” she was thrusting just right, obviously so experienced. it was pleasing her, too, the strap hitting just right at her swollen clit.

how badly you wanted to touch her body, worship her like you did quietly with her eyes. she was like a greek god, muscular and sculpted so perfectly. especially now, sweat marbling her skin and her chiseled body over yours. you almost forgot ellie was there, being as (almost) quiet as she was. glancing up, you caught sight of her, her fingers buried into her cunt. the sight alone was enough to make you cum once more, but you couldn’t, not so early. you looked back up at the deity above you who was staring into your eyes.

“abby,” you groaned. you threw your head back, going dumb on her cock. “right there… f-please…” cross-eyed, you sobered up a little as you felt a harsh pain on your breasts. “oh!” you gasped, feeling her large hand slap your chest. “abby!”

“take my cock, girl,” abby panted, hands squeezing your breasts, using them as leverage as she continued her pounding.

“fu—ck,” ellie groaned to the sight of you and to the noise of her fingers in her cunt, squelching, obscene, and loud. “y’doing so good, y/n… yes… uhn!”

you ran your hand up abby’s biceps, wrapping your arms around her neck. this prompted her to lean in and kiss your lips, deep and hungry. your hand cupped her cheek, pulling her close while your lips collided. abby pulled away first to admire your body and you took this moment to lift your arms above your head, desperately trying to pull ellie closer by her legs. she scoot closer and you cocked your head to the side, immediately licking at her cunt.

“yeah,” abby moaned, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. “lick ‘er fuckin’ pussy.” she gripped your waist, hurriedly thrusting into you, her clot bumping against the harness. “fuck, i’m cumming!” she moaned, collapsing onto you as she came. she kissed at your neck, bit at it, too, while she continued to thrust, needing you to cum, too. her fingers finding your clit, furiously rubbing it.

you couldn’t help it anymore; biting into ellie’s thigh, you came. squirted, actually. all over her cock, all over her abdomen. your body was convulsing, shaking and twitching for her. ellie followed in suit, your teeth pushing her over the edge as they sunk deeper into her. all three of you were moaning, crying, holding each other tight.

“fuck,” you were the first to say. abby slowly pulled out of you, panting deeply.

“you squirted,” abby chuckled with admiration. she squeezed your thighs and glanced up at ellie, “all good?” she asked. ellie nodded.

“yeah, just,” she sighed blissfully, “fuck. we should do this again.” you giggled and kissed ellie’s thigh.

“mhm,” you agreed.

maybe your (sex?) life has just changed for the better.

[joszns]

miss you ✭

college!ellie x reader

content: sexting, nudes, first sexting experience, vibrator usage (reader), masturbation, pet names (baby, good girl, babe)

summary: ellie misses you a little too much on a late night and decides to text you…

part 2!!!

ellie bit her lip, laying on her bed. a still-lit joint rested in the ash tray next to her, the drug affecting her greatly as she tried to ignore the growing arousal between her legs. she rolled to her side, grabbing her phone and checking the time.

11:30…

reluctantly, she unlocks her phone and hovers her fingertip over your contact. whatever. it’s not weird of her to text her own girlfriend, regardless of the time.

e: hey, u still awake?

she looks at the message, before leaving her phone on the bed and deciding to finish off the joint.

a ping quickly steals her attention, however.

y/n: i am, why? miss u.

she quickly takes one last hit, bursting out into a coughing fit. ellie grabs her phone, typing a reply.

e: nothing, i just miss u babe. what are you doing?

ellie gets back into bed, eyes glued to her phone.

y/n: thinking ab you, silly

she blushes slightly.

e: aw, what about me??

ellie watches you type, then disappear. ugh, was that cringe?? she rolls onto her back, nervously chewing her nail.

y/n: im thinking about ur kisses…

she feels her heart skip a beat. her thighs reflexively clench against eachother, barely relieving the desperate need for touch between them.

e: my kisses? what about them?

ellie pulls the covers over her, feeling a little exposed in her dimly lit room.

y/n: i miss them. i need them

her breath catches slightly, typing a response quickly.

e: yeah? need them where?

she bites her lip nervously, scared at your response.

y/n: want me to show you?

no fucking way.

ellie blushes furiously, her heart beating rocket speed as she stares at your message.

e: show me baby

she hopes her response comes off as cool and collected. you can’t tell tone in text after all, right?

a minute passes, and she starts to get anxious. what if that was too far?

[Y/N ❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]

ellies eyes go wide. nevermind to that. she opens the notification, getting more and more turned on.

the image was absolutely breathtaking.

you were lying on your back, shirt off, neck exposed. your skin was highlighted perfectly by your bedside lamp, jawline in the corner of the image. she could see you were biting your lip, your fingers lightly placed just above ur collarbone.

right here pls?

the text on the image read. ellie took in a deep breath, her free hand slipping beneath the covers and teasing the hem of her shirt.

e: i wish i could my love

id kiss more than just ur neck

she waits for your response, still looking at the photograph. ellie could picture it, feel you whimpering softly as she marked your neck.

y/n: how about….

[Y/N❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]

ellie quickly opened the picture, dipping her fingers below the waistband of her boxers. she was extremely turned on by you, her thighs clenching again at the picture.

you had angled the camera lower, showing your bare chest as your hands covered your nipples, the text reading:

…here? ;P

fuck, ellie thought, starting to rub her clit over her boxers. she stared at the image for a moment, taking in your beautiful tits and trying her best to remember what was behind those fingers of yours. she remembered how your boobs felt up in her face, growing more aroused at the thought.

e: fuck baby you’re so hot

i miss u

i love ur boobs

she shoved her hand beneath the fabric of her boxers, desperately needing more friction.

y/n: they love u too baby

what are you thinking about?

oh god. she can’t answer that honestly. what do I say…she thought, pausing her movements. herr heart pounded in her chest, she was so close to finishing.

e: everything about u. ur so perfect. i miss the way u taste sm

y/n: yeah, you miss my pussy? ur so cute lol

ellie blushed furiously at your message, tossing her phone to the side momentarily before quickly rolling back over to grab it once again.

e: shut up.

she bit her lip, returning to the photos you had sent. she began touching herself again, thinking about your hand in place of her own.

e: what r u doing rn..?

ellie’s finger hovered over the send button nervously.

y/n: typing witg one hand

she rolled her eyes back, imagining you touching yourself, thinking about her. ellie did the same, getting off to those dirty thoughts.

e: proof?

she pressed send, half joking but half wanting to see. im such a perv…

[Y/N❤️✂️sent you a snap!]

ellie blushed, quickly opening the snapchat notification.

this time, it was a video.

it showed your hand, working away at yourself underneath your underwear. you were moaning softly, letting ellies name slip towards the end.

jesus. she let out a whimper. the video looped, and with each replay she got wetter and wetter.

e: goddamn. i need u so bad y/n

need to be all up in your pretty pussy

ellie opened snapchat, recording a video of her getting off as well. she pictured you, your perfect moans in her ear as she fingered you relentlessly.

“fuck….” she groaned.

anxiously, she sent the video, however she was too lost in her own arousal to put much worry or thought into it.

y/n: omfg ellie

i want u to fuck me so bad, your moans make me go insane baby im so wet

ellie let out a moan, rubbing her clit much more intensely now.

e: r u using that vibrator i know u have?

she could picture you, hair messy and tangled as your back arches, whimpering as the vibrator massaged your clit perfectly.

y/n: howd you know?

[New audio message from Y/N❤️✂️]

ellie excitedly played it, nearly orgasming on the spot as she heard your delicious moans.

you were whimpering her name, the faint hum of your vibrator barely heard over your cries of pleasure.

she felt herself get close, playing the audio over and over again until she was on the brink of cumming.

e: gonna cum….fuck your moans are so hot…i wish i was the one causing them

y/n: i wanna see u cum to the thought of me baby

ellies breath sped up as she began to record her touches, rubbing away at her clit and occasionally dipping her fingers inside for more slick.

“oh fuck…y/n…” she moaned, picturing your perfect tits bouncing in her face as you rode her strap. her hips bucked into her hand as she came, whimpering your name over and over again as well as several curses. she sent the video, replaying the audio you had sent as she rode herself through the orgasm.

geez…i haven’t cum that hard in a while…ellie thought, feeling her clit pulse and twitch beneath her fingers as she regained her breath.

[Y/N❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]

ellie quickly opened the video, still touching herself.

this time, you were the one cumming all over your fingers. it was truly a show, your tits bouncing as you moaned her name, the dual vibrator massaging your clit and filling you up simultaneously. you turned the camera and rested it slightly above your collarbones, giving ellie a full view of your tits and thrusting. you whimpered as you turned up the speed, cumming hard on the silicone toy and moaning ellies name into the mic repeatedly.

she almost came again, her arousal quickly growing at the sight of you.

e: hooly fuuckkk baby. i wish i could be with u in person rn. i wanna put my face all in your perfect pussy.

y/n: come over ?? lol

still horny :(( i miss you pretty girl

that was enough for her to decide.

she got up, reading the time as 12:10. whatever, anything for you.

e: on my way baby

im gonna fuck you so good

ur not gonna be able to walk tmr

y/n: can’t wait <3

a/n :3 this is my first ever fic…if u have any suggestions or constructive critics let me know lol i hope u enjoyed!!!

edit: THANK U SM FOR ALL THE LOVE😭😭❤️working hard on another one!!!

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Fantasize » Bucky Barnes/Winter Solider

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary: The new Avenger (the reader) admits to Bucky that she fantasizes about him.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, (f receiving), unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, metal arm kink, Bucky’s dog tags, name calling (slut), pet names (doll, babydoll, doll face)

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

You knocked on the door to Bucky’s room and patiently waited for him to answer the door.

“Come in!” Bucky says.

You open the door and walk in his room, closing the door behind you. Your eyes widened when you seen him standing in front of you in nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips.

“Oh god! I’m so sorry, Sergeant Barnes! I’ll come back later!” You quickly apologized.

You went to walk out of his room, but he stopped you by grabbing your upper arm firmly to get you to face him.

“It’s ok. Is there something I can help you with?” He asks.

“Umm I uhh…” You completely forgot what you were going to say.

Your eyes were more focused on his body. You watched as droplets of water rolled down his muscular body. You noticed how the light shined onto his metal arm. Then there were his dog tags, laying perfectly on the middle of his chest.

Your mind started to drift elsewhere. You bit your lip at the thought of the things that you wanted him to do to you. Like him pinning you against the wall and kissing you roughly and marking you as his. Or him wrapping his metal hand around your throat and applying light pressure as he fingers you. His dog tags dangling in your face as he pounds his cock into you. Your thoughts were interrupted when Bucky snapped his fingers in your face.

“My eyes are up here, doll face.” He says.

“I know.” You say, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Bucky looked at you for a moment, studying the rosiness of your cheeks. A smirk grew on his lips when he figured it out.

“Where was your mind a few seconds ago?” He asks.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say.

“I think you do.” Bucky says, approaching you.

You walked backwards until your back hit the wall behind you. Your breathing got heavy when Bucky placed his hands on the wall on either side of your head.

“You wanna tell me what’s going through that pretty little head of yours?” He asks.

You gulped and shook your head no. Bucky chuckled at your flustered state. He was determined to get an answer out of you and he knew exactly how he was going to do it. He leaned in close to your ear, his beard poked your cheek.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, doll.” He says in your ear.

“I fantasize about you doing things to me.” You admitted.

“What kind of things do you fantasize about me doing to you?” Bucky asks.

“Dirty things.” You say shyly.

“Tell me. Describe them to me. Don’t leave out a single detail.” He says.

“I-I want you to kiss me roughly and mark me as yours.” You say nervously.

Before you know it, Bucky smashed his lips on yours, kissing you roughly. You were caught by surprise, but kissed him back. Your hands flew up to his head, running your fingers through his damp hair. He moved his lips from your lips to your neck. You gasped when his teeth nipped on your skin, hard enough to create hickeys. Just like you said.

“What else do you fantasize about?” He asks against your neck.

“Your metal hand around my throat.” You say.

Bucky stopped kissing your neck and wrapped his metal hand around your throat, applying light pressure.

“What else?” He asks.

You were too embarrassed to say it. You grabbed his right hand and slid it inside of your leggings. You gasped when his fingers rubbed your clit through your wet panties.

“You’re so wet.” Bucky says, rubbing harder.

Bucky pushed your panties to the side, rubbing his fingers through your wet folds, smearing your wetness around.

“Pl-Please!” You begged.

“Please what, doll? What do you want me to do?” He asks.

“I want your fingers.” You say.

Bucky slid his middle finger inside of you causing you to throw your head back against the wall with a moan falling from your lips, his middle finger alone stretched you out. He moved his finger at a decent pace while his thumb rubbed your clit in circles. You bit your bottom lip and your eyes fluttered shut.

“Nah uh. Look at me while I’m making you feel good.” Bucky says, his metal hand applying a little more pressure to your throat.

You opened your eyes and looked at him, looking into his now lustful eyes that were a beautiful blue a little bit ago.

“More!” You moaned.

“You want another one?” Bucky asks with a smirk.

You nodded your head yes. Bucky slid his ring finger inside of you next to his middle finger.

“Faster please!” You moaned.

Bucky moved his fingers faster while his thumb applied more pressure to your clit and rubbed faster.

“Oh my god! Yes!” You moaned, throwing your head back.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, babydoll?” He says.

“Mhmm!” You moaned.

His fingertips hit that one spot inside of you causing you to moan loudly.

“Right there!” You moaned.

“Is that your little spot, doll?” Bucky asks.

Your jaw dropped, strings of moans left your lips. You couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted more.

“Fuck me!” You blurted out.

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice. He took his fingers out of you causing you to whine at the empty feeling. He picked you up and laid you down on his bed. He pulled your tank top over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room. Bucky licked his lips when he seen that you weren’t wearing a bra. He leaned down, kissing along the swells of your breasts. He littered your chest and breasts in hickeys. He kissed down your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your leggings. He looked up at you, waiting for permission. You nodded your head, giving him the ok to continue. Bucky hooked his fingers in the waistband and took off both your panties and leggings in one go and threw them on the floor.

“I have to taste this sweet pussy.” He practically groans.

Bucky spread your legs and laid down on his stomach in between them. His tongue licked in between your folds causing you to gasp at the feeling when you felt the tip of his tongue against your clit. His tongue started to flick against your clit as he began to eat you out like his life depends on it. Your hands flew down to his head, tugging on his hair causing him to moan at the feeling.

“You taste so fucking good.” He says, practically moaning.

Your cent clenched around nothing as he continued to eat you out. You threw your head back against the pillows.

“Oh fuck yes!” You moaned.

Your moans encouraged Bucky to move his tongue faster against your clit. You felt your lower stomach tighten, feeling your orgasm approaching you faster than normal.

“I-I’m gonna cum!” You moaned.

Bucky suddenly stopped his movements with his tongue causing you to whine. He sat up on his knees, taking his towel off and throwing it on the floor next to your clothes. He grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to him. He pumped his hard cock a few times before rubbing his tip in between your folds, coating his cock with your wetness.

“Pl-Please!” You whimpered.

Bucky chuckled and lined his cock up at your entrance. He slid his cock inside of you, inch by inch.

“S-So big!” You gasped.

“You can take it, doll. I know you can.” He says.

Once his cock was fully inside of you, he gave you a moment to adjust to his size. He’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever had. You nodded your head to let him know that he can start thrusting. Bucky started thrusting at a decent pace, but that wasn’t enough for you.

“Faster!” You begged.

Bucky placed his arms on either side of your head, caging you in and thrusted faster. His dog tags swung above your face just like you imagined. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Your hands were on his back, digging your nails in his skin causing him to moan at the feeling.

“Is this what you’ve been fantasizing about, doll? Me fucking you like a little slut?” Bucky asks huskily.

“Yes!” You moaned.

Your moans encouraged him to move faster. His lower abdomen rubbed against your clit causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. Bucky took the opportunity to kiss along the column of your throat, his teeth lightly nipping at your skin. Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head when you felt the tip of his cock repeatedly hit your sweet spot.

“Oh my— fuck yes! Right there!” You moaned.

“Found it again, didn’t I?” He says against your neck.

“Yes! Don’t stop!” You moaned.

“I don’t plan on stopping, babydoll.” He growls.

Your lower stomach tightened again. Your orgasm was coming closer and closer.

“I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum!” You begged desperately.

“Cum for me, doll.” Bucky groans.

His name left your lips as you came hard. Bucky’s thrusts increased when he felt his orgasm nearing.

“This pussy is too good for me to pull out.” He moans.

“Then don’t.” You moaned.

“Don’t say shit like that if you don’t mean it.” Bucky says.

“Cum inside of me! I want it!” You say desperately.

“Dirty girl.” He growls.

Bucky came inside of you after a few more thrusts, his cum painting your walls. His thrusts came to a stop. He laid down on the bed next to you without pulling out of you and wrapped his arms around you.

“That was way better than what I fantasized about.” You say panting.

“Oh yea?” Bucky says.

“Mhmm.” You hummed.

“Since I helped you fulfill your fantasy, it’s only right that you help me fulfill my fantasy.” He says.

“What do you have in mind, Sergeant?” You asked.

Bucky didn’t say anything. He rolled over, pulling you on top of him causing you to let out a squeal. Nonetheless to say that the night didn’t go to waste.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[alien-magnolia]

Surprise!

dom!Billy Loomis x subby!fem!reader 

My first Billy fic :) tw; this is more dark, don’t like, don’t read. If you like this post, pls help a writer out and reblog✨

Tw: degrading kink, praise kink, daddy kink, knife play, blood play, d/s dynamics, cnc, choking, impact play,  bondage, corruption kink, unprotected sex, dom!billy loomis/ghostface, innocent fem sub!reader

Fic description: Billy was always this really mysterious guy you knew. One night, he wanted to play, and you were his victim of choice. You didn’t expect that you’d be into it

It was a Friday night, and you were comfy on your white couch, laying down on your tummy with nothing but your little pink nightgown on. The rain was thundering upon the roof, a gloomy October night. You were eating some popcorn and watching a horror movie. You liked those, and sometimes you’d imagine those big scary slasher killers coming after you, having their way with you. Using you. Little did you know, that was about to happen. 

You hear the phone ring. You quickly jump up and tiptoe your way to the receiver, careful not to mess up the pretty pink nail polish you just put on your toes. You grab the receiver.

“Hello?,” you timidly draw out onto the phone. “Hi, sweetie,” a low voice answers back. It was Billy. You always felt so tingly and subby around him, and sometimes he’d give you rides home. He was a good guy, you thought. “Hi Billy!,” you shout, excited but confused to see him calling. “What are you up to, sweetie? Wearing anything nice?” You blush at the question. Sometimes you’d see his eyes shamelessly rake over you. You gulped, you might as well indulge. You did have a little bit of a crush on him, but sometimes your gut feeling would tell you that he seemed dangerous.

“Just my pink nightgown. Gee, Billy. It’s suddenly really cold here,” you say as you shiver, your manicured fingers dwindling with the phone cord. “Well maybe you shouldn’t have left that window open, sweetie. Who knows what could happen…” you hear his voice, although it isn’t on the phone anymore. It is behind you. The phone drops from your hand as you feel a pair of strong arms grab you from behind, one hand on your neck, the other firmly splayed out over your hips. 

You take a look in the mirror. Billy is standing behind you. He’s got some blood on his face, and in one of his hands, a knife. He’s standing there smiling at you. “Surprise.” He lets out a low chuckle, a predatory grin over his face. “Weren’t expecting me tonight, were you sweetheart?,” he asks, his lips trailing over the tips of your ear, you feel his hot breath on your face. You feel the metallic blade of his knife trail over your thighs. 

“N-no, Billy. What are you doing? Will you let me go?,” you timidly ask him. He might hurt you with that knife, but you were just incredibly turned on. “I don’t think so, sweetie,” he replies, and then flips you around, so you’re facing him. He quickly grabs two of your wrists, and ties them together, firmly in place with some duct tape. He strokes your hair a bit, trailing down your neck with a few light kisses. 

You were almost moaning at this point. 

“Billy…what are you doing?? Let me go,” you plead, on one hand, you wanted to be free, but on the other hand, this just made you melt. “Here’s what’s going to happen, bunny. I came here tonight, just for you…”, he coos at you, his deep brown eyes gazing into yours. He’s got you caged against the wall now with his bulging biceps. You couldn’t escape, even if you wanted to! And he was just so strong!!! He continues. “I’m going to play with you. Just a few things. Wanted you so, so, bad, princess. And now —- I’m going to get what I want. Gonna see how much of a little slut you are, underneath that innocent little act you pull. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl. You understand?,” he asks, while he runs a blade over your cheek.

God— you loved how he talked to you. How he talked down to you. You felt so subby already. You nod, looking up at him, eyes wide. You nod. “Good job, such an obedient girl for me. You’re gonna call me daddy, from now on, okay sweetie?” You nod again. “Yes, daddy.” With that, he puts some duct tape over your mouth, and grabs you by your taped wrists. He leads you up the stairs with his strong hands, you feel the knife and his hard on behind you. 

He takes you to your bedroom. “All pink, white frilly sheets, even some teddy bears on your bed I see…,” he lets out a low chuckle. “Such a pretty little thing you are for me, princess. Too bad that I’m about to corrupt that dumb little head of yours,” he coos at you, turning you around to trail your face with kisses. You felt so squirmy already, so wet for him. He drove you insane! You were so scared of him…but he turned you on so much that you just submitted to him, so naturally.

You start to let out a few little moans, muffled by the duct tape, of course. Suddenly, he rips it off you, and slams you against a wall. You see the blood on his face, and he pushes his lips into yours, so big, so rough! You loved it! “Sir…please…can’t…can’t take it…,” you plead with him, but you really didn’t know what you were pleading for. Maybe for him to fuck you. “What’s the matter? Too much for my bunny already?,” he chuckles, and comes in close. He has that insane look on his face, this predatory smile, you felt so powerless. “I’m just getting started, honey,” he patronizes you. “Too stupid to understand, I guess…” he sighs to himself, and then brings one of his hands up to your throat. He leads you to the bed by your throat, and then pushes you onto it, face down. You feel him adjust your taped hands behind you, and his calloused hands grope at your tits eagerly. “Gonna show you how I play, sweetie…you’re just gonna be a good slut, and lay there for me and take it, okay?” You were confused on what he meant, till you felt your nightgown being hiked up. “No panties even? You are a slut, huh? So good for me,” he moans out, and you start to feel his hand come down to spank you a few times. It was painful, and it burned, but you loved it. He turned you around, his shirt was off, he was naked right in front of you. His cock was already out, you were just aching to put it in your mouth. 

He pulls you up, shoving his cock closer to your face. “Open for me.” You do as said, it was just heaven to feel his throbbing cock inside your mouth, you looked up at him as you suckled on his tip, and he stroked your hair just a bit. He still had that knife, and then traced the blade over your face, not cutting you, but you just felt it. He pulls out of you. “Good girl, you got it wet for me. Now you’re gonna take my cock, gonna stretch that tight little cunt out, nice and wide.” He pushes you down onto the bed again, you feel his big chest over yours, you feel him pushing into you. You felt scared before, but now you just felt nothing but need. “Want it in, want it to fill me, daddy please, need to be full so bad,” you begging him again. “Can’t resist that little smile you got, princess. Gotta be patient, daddy's going to give you as he sees fit,”  he patronizes you. 

You feel him slam into you, his tip reaching your gummy walls, filling you up so sweetly that you just couldn’t even breathe. You felt him choke you lightly, and then start rocking you slowly but roughly on his thick length. “Please, wanna cum…please…” you feel his breath on your neck, he leaned in close, his lips trailing over your cheek. “Then come, sweet girl. Give me a big squeeze…there you go,” he coos at you. You felt so subby, so stupid, but you loved it when you were with him. You feel him spill into you, you loved how warm it felt :) 

“Did good for me, sweetie. Should be grateful that I came to play with you, little thing.” He pulls out, unties you and leaves through the same window he came in from. 

[gojotojis]

When the Party’s Over pt.3

Part 1 Part 2

summary: you and sukuna are now dating, only you’re keeping it a secret but secrets eventually come out.

pairing: college! sukuna x college! fem reader

content MDNI: slight angst ?, bestfriends brother, frenemies, secret romance, soft sukuna, squirting,oral (m receiving) , unprotected sex, vaginal sex, riding, cum eating, fingering, fluff, aftercare, dacryphillia, oral choking, praise kink, overstimulation

This ended up being so fluffy, pls don’t beat me up. Soft sukuna just has me in a chokehold! Also this is my favorite smut I’ve written thus far!

Choso insisted on you coming over for a John Wick marathon, of course Yuki was there, which you didn’t mind. Yuki’s actually really nice to you and her music taste is so similar to yours, you’re constantly making eachother playlists and sending eachother songs you think the other would like. You’ve never had a girl friend so it’s nice.

You sit on the couch next to Yuji whose eyes widen everytime John fires his gun, while Choso and Yuki sit cuddled up on the other side of the sofa.

You have to admit, Johns incredibly sexy. You’d happily sit through four movies soley about him but your eyes keep drifting towards the stairs.

All you want to do is crawl into Sukunas bed and sleep but you can’t. You’re scared for Choso to find out, scared that it’ll ruin your friendship. Sukuna doesn’t care, he doubts Choso will give a shit and maybe he’s right but you’re not ready.

You and Sukuna have only been dating for three months now and you love being in your own little bubble with him. You also love the thrill you get from sneaking around, the way he sneaks you into his house after hours just so you can fall asleep on him.

You’re not sure the separation anxiety you feel is healthy, he’s the only thing on your mind, the first thing you think about when you wake up and the last thing you think about when you go to sleep. He’s your first boyfriend, your first everything and you hope he’s your last.

It feels so good to be utterly obsessed with someone and them to reciprocate it. It’s also a rush knowing your boyfriend hates everyone but you, that he’s mean in public but when he’s alone with you, he’s on his knees telling you how much he loves you.

You feel like you’re going insane, you need to feel his skin against yours. You’re never not clinging to him like a monkey, making him carry you everywhere. You’re just so obsessed with him, it makes you want to rip your hair out, definitely not healthy but you don’t give a shit.

You anxiously start eating the popcorn Yujis holding, fighting the urge to run up stairs and tackle Sukuna. This is different, so different, whatever you felt for Choso doesn’t come even a fraction close to how you feel about Sukuna.

“I’m so tired,” you fake yawn, stretching your arms up and Yuji scoffs.

“It’s only been an hour,” he says and you yawn again for emphasis.

“I had such a long day, I’m sorry guys,” you say innocently and Choso shakes his head. “Just go to sleep in one of the guest rooms, I can take you home in the morning,” he says and you nod standing up.

Yuji looks at you suspiciously but all you do is offer an apologetic smile before you’re climbing up the stairs. Your fingers wrap the handle to Sukunas door and open it. He’s sitting at his desk, engrossed in a game of call of duty while he curses out someone on his headset.

You lock the door and peel your clothes off till you’re naked. You pull your hair from its ponytail and let it fall to your hips before you walk toward him. He looks to you and then back to the screen before looking at you again with wide eyes and you giggle.

“I gotta go,” he says over the headset.

“We’re about to fucking win!” you hear someone yell at him as you turn the chair to face you. You climb onto his lap and reach for his hand as his teammates scream at him through the headset.

He watches you take his hand and press his fingers against your pussy, covering them in your arousal before you lift them to your mouth and lick them. He throws his head back and closes his eyes.

“I really gotta fucking go,” he says before closing the game, and the shouting stops. He quickly removes his headset and sets downs his controller.

“Hi,” you smile innocently.

“Hi baby,” he breathes before his lips find yours. Your lips brush and tongues lap against eachother. His hands slide over the curve of your waists and up to your tits. His large hands splay across them and he squeezes them hard.

“Does my good girl need some attention?” He asks, his tongue licking the sides of your breasts and you nod.

“How bad?” He asks, rolling a nipple between his fingers as you grind down against his bulge.

“Really bad,” you say creating a bouncing rhythm. He can feel the wet patch you’re making on his crotch. Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt and he lifts his arms up, letting you take it off.

You’ll never get tired of his body, the ridges, the muscles and the defined v at his hips. Your nails graze his abs before they start tracing over the tattoos on his arms. His body is hot to the touch, and he shivers under your cold fingers.

“You gonna ride me?” He asks. You’re a pillow princess, you love just laying down and taking it while he does most of the work but you’ve never done that before, yet it sounds dirty and you like it.

“Yes,” you say confidently. You’ve only ever done missionary, he knows it’s your favorite, it’s just so intimate, being able to see his expressions and watch where your bodies connect as he fucks into you.

He knows he’s gonna be helping you by the end of this but he pats your ass and you sit up, letting him slide his pants off and his cock springs free. Your mouth waters at the sight and you slide down to your knees.

Your hand wraps around it and he hisses. You watch the way his abs contract when you spit repeatedly on it till it’s nice and sloppy, just how he likes it. You press several kisses to the tip letting precum smear against you lips, teasing him before you lick up the sides.

He groans as you feel the veins against your tongue. He stands up so he can get a better look at you when he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth widens as you breathe through your nose like he taught you, tears gather in your eyes, looking up at him until his dick is pressed against the back of your throat.

“Gonna fuck the shit out of this mouth,” he groans and your pussy throbs. His fingers thread through your hair and slowly pulls out of your mouth before plunging back in. His dick is so fucking warm in your mouth, he groans when you lick the underside. He starts thrusting into your mouth, not breaking eye contact as he watches you cry and it turns him on so fucking bad watching the tears flow down your cheeks.

You’re gagging on his dick, your hands gripping his thighs praying nobody can hear you choking.

“So good for me baby,” he grunts, forcing more down your throat and your eyes widen but you try to relax. He’s buried in your throat, your nose touching his pelvis. He thrusts in out, beating the back of your throat, saliva smearing all over your face and dripping onto your chest.

Your fingers find your pussy and you force your middle and index finger inside of you, desperate for a release as you bounce on your fingers. Your mouth cries against his cock, and it’s enough that he’s pulling out. He watches you fingering yourself and loses it, cum hits your face in thick ropes and then your chest, you fingers leave your cunt and you swipe the cum off your lips, sucking them off before you stand up and push Sukuna back down into the chair.

He watches you glide your fingers over your nipples, scooping up cum before you swallow it. You’re a fucking freak, not even close to what he dreamed of, but better.

You straddle him as he leans back, letting you take control. You grip his cock and line it up at your sopping hole. Your eyes close as you slowly sink down onto it, the stretch one of your favorite parts.

Little tremors hit you as your pussy swallows him until your ass is flush against his thighs. He’s so fucking deep, you think you might cum if you move. His full attention is on you, hands gripping the arms of the chair.

You pull up, feeling his cock slowly leave you before you bounce back down. You moan as quietly as you can as you bounce up and down his cock. This feels so good but it’s so much work, work you’re not use to and you look at him with those big doe eyes. He was waiting for this.

“Help me,” you whisper and his hands slide to your ass, lifting you up and slamming you down on him, hard.

Your teeth sink into his shoulder as he slams you up and down his cock over and over, sweat starts to coat your body and your tits bounce with each thrust. You hear gunshots downstairs from the tv, praying they don’t hear Sukuna drilling into you.

“The sweetest fucking pussy,” he grunts as you grind against him, you feel your stomach knot and your pussy clamps as he batters your cervix. You start to shake against him and liquid gushes from your cunt but he doesn’t stop, he never does.

He fucks into you like he wants to touch the tip of your skull, your head lulls to the side, tongue sticking out as you gasp for air feeling your boyfriend demolish your cunt until you’re squirting again and dripping down his thighs.

“Too much ngghh, too much Kuna,” you cry when his thumb rubs at your clit and your eyes roll back. His mouth finds yours and he swallows your screams as you cum together, feeling him flood you with his seed.

You slump against him as he carries you to his bathroom. He turns the shower on and steps inside with you still wrapped around him. You whine when he lifts you off of him and sets you on your feet, your knees are wobbly as he reaches for your pink loofah and lathers his body wash onto it.

He begins scrubbing your body while you turn your face so the water hits it, washing away his cum. You reach for your face wash you left and start massaging it into your face as he gets on his knees.

You shiver as he gently washes your sore and abused pussy. He press’s kisses against your belly as you grab his rag and pour body wash on it. He stands up and you start scrubbing him, at least the places you can reach till he has to take over.

Once you’re done and he’s dressed you in his clothes, you climb on top of him in bed, resting your head on his chest.

“My little spider monkey,” he calls you, the way you cling to him. You look up and smile before kissing his jaw as he scrolls through Netflix.

You all but squeal at the smell of fried food, the flickering multicolored lights and the sound of screaming. You fucking love the fair.

Sukuna fucking hates it, he hates the screaming and the guaranteed vomiting. He still hasn’t forgiven you for throwing up on him in the Gravitron once the ride ended when you were twelve and him fourteen.

In your defense you housed about six funnel cakes, a super size coke slushee and eight fried Oreos that day before you got on the ride. You learned your lesson that day.

Even though he hates it, it’s the smile on your face that makes it worth it as you lace your fingers together and walk around.

You immediately guide him toward the flying swings, the tendant scans your wristbands and you take the seat infront of Sukuna as more people get on.

Sukuna waits for what he knows is coming, he listens to you burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. You laugh manically when you ride rollercoasters and etc, people look at you like you’re deranged while you laugh like the Joker.

It’s fucking hilarious as you look back at him. He can’t help but laugh at the way his girlfriend sounds like a fucking maniac. Even when the rides over you’re clutching your sides laughing. It’s the adrenaline no doubt.

You spend the night riding almost every ride, nearly breaking your neck on the bumper cars when some kid drove straight into you until you were slammed into the wall. Sukuna threatened to kick his “little ass” out the car and he broke down crying which ended in you both banned from the bumper cars.

“He was a pussy,” Sukuna huffs as you lick at your Icecream cone.

“Baby, he couldn’t have been older than eight,” you say and he shrugs leaning down to lick your Icecream. He watches you take a bite with your front teeth and stops walking.

“Only psychos eat Icecream like that,” he says making you laugh.

“Congrats, you’re dating a psycho,” you say taking another bite until your eyes land on something.

Sukuna clutches his ears as you threaten to burst his eardrum with your screaming.

“Fuck!” He says loudly with his finger in his ear. You ignore it as you finish your icecream and tug him toward the booth full of Sanrio plushies. “I want them all,” you say to the worker and she hands you a basketball.

You look down at it with a frown as she points to the hoops behind her. Sukuna hands her money as you toss the ball, watching it bounce off the rim.

You have two more shots and she hands you a ball, you throw it and miss. Sukuna can tell you’re getting frustrated with the way your hands form into fists.

He walks who behind you as you take the last basketball. He presses his hand flat against your stomach and the other one stretches out behind your hand that holds the basketball.

He pulls your joined hands back and lifts you up with one hand so you can throw it and it makes it through the hoop.

“I did it! I did it!” You jump up and down, technically you both did but he doesn’t care to correct you.

“That’s cheating,” the worker says arms crossed.

“Give her the fucking toy,” Sukuna says making the girl get up and walk to the wall of plushies.

“Which one baby?” He asks and you point to a giant My Melody one dressed up as a watermelon, she hands it to you. The things nearly the size of you as you hug it, you beam up at him as he holds your hand.

He brings your joined hands up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand as you walk around. There’s two rides you haven’t gone on yet, the Ferris wheel and the Gravitron.

Sukuna absolutely refuses when you walk him toward the Gravitron. You actually feel bad that you gave him childhood trauma because he plants his feet to the ground and doesn’t budge no matter how hard you pull.

“Please Kuna, we can stand on opposite ends of the ride. I promise I won’t throw up on you,” you beg but he doesn’t budge. You sigh and look down at the ground, like a kicked and dejected puppy.

“You’re fucking annoying” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your temple and grabbing your hand. You smile, leaving your plushie with the machine operator as you both step inside. You giggle as he leans against the wall two mats over.

Everyone gets in and the ride starts, you feel the pressure of the zero gravity at work as your body’s stuck against the wall. The machine ride spins, Sukunas watching you and the expression your face makes. You’re not laughing, not even close.

You feel sick, absolutely sick and dizzy. Your eyes squeeze shut until the ride ends and you’re running out. You lean over the railing, prepared to vomit as you take several deep breaths. Sukuna rubs your back and holds your hair but luckily nothing comes up.

“You’re never going on that ride again,” he says and you nod, you can’t help but laugh once the queasiness leaves you. “You should’ve seen your face, you thought I was going to throw up on you,” you say, pretending to puke on him and he glares, carrying your plushie.

“You’d be walking home if you did,” he says and you roll your eyes knowing damn well he would never let that happen.

You stop him and stand on your tippie toes, pulling him down for a kiss. You smile against his lips, you’ll never get tired of this.

You rest against his chest as you both stare at the tv.

“So he calls her baby girl and she calls him chocolate thunder but they’re strictly platonic?” He asks and you nod laughing as you watch criminal minds.

“You’re into some freaky shit,” he says making you sit up so you’re straddling him. You push your ass against his dick and smile.

“Very,” you say before you lift your shirt up, revealing your bare chests. He sits up and starts kissing you, oblivious to the feet running up the stairs until his doors being slammed open. You scream and climb off of him, clutching your chest.

Your face reddens, the urge to cover it but your hands are hiding your tits. He moves to block your body and hands you back his shirt. Yuji and Choso’s faces are burned into your brain as you slip the shirt on. You don’t lean over Sukuna, terrified.

“What the fuck!” You hear Choso say and you slightly peak over Sukunas shoulder.

Choso storms out of the room and you jump out of the bed.

“Choso wait!” You say as he jogs down the stairs and out the front door.

You walk back to the room to see Yuji sitting next to Sukuna giving him a fist bump.

“No way you bagged y/n, She’s pretty bad,” Yuji says and you slap the back of both their heads.

You sigh pushing your food around. It’s been a week and Choso doesn’t answer your texts, he doesn’t sit with you at lunch and he switched seats in the classes you share so now you’re forced to sit next to Mahito who you hate.

“Has he said anything to you?” You ask Sukuna as he steals one of your fries.

“Nah, he’s been staying over at Yuki’s. Who cares anyways” he says eating another fry until you’re pushing your tray towards him.

“I do and you should too, he’s your brother,” you say and he sighs.

“So what do you want me to do, I can beat him until he talks to you,” he offers genuinely, you try not to laugh at his violent and insane behavior.

“No, but I told you this would happen,” you say and he shrugs, holding a fry up to your lips until you eat it.

“Good girl,” he says as Yuki sits infront if you making you sit up. You’re prepared for her to yell at you but she doesn’t.

“I know Choso’s being stubborn, he told me everything. It’s really not his business on what you two do with eachother which I expressed so now he’s not talking to me,” she says taking a fry.

“He’s being a fucking diva,” Sukuna says making you laugh at him using such a word. “Break up with him and see how fast he comes running,” Sukuna concludes. The idea sounds absurd but Yuki’s pulling her phone out and tapping away at the screen.

“Oh you guys are cruel,” you say and she hits send.

“So what exactly is this?” She asks, pointing between you two.

“We’re dating, three months now,” you smile, being able to say it so openly feels nice.

“Oh that’s pathetic,” Sukuna says as Choso enters the cafeteria and walks towards your table. He holds his phone up at Yuki.

“Are you serious?”.

“What use is a boyfriend that won’t speak to you?” She asks and you take notes. She’s so nonchalant about it, serves him right.

“Fine, you want to talk let’s talk,” Choso says taking the seat between you and Yuki.

“You’re fucking a guy that told you the only jobs you’d get were either on a pole or your back and you’re fucking a girl that prayed to God for three weeks that you would catch Syphilis,” he says, Yuki covers her mouth to conceal a laugh.

“Well, she only does one of those jobs and I’m syphilis free,” Sukuna says and you pinch his ass through the opening in his chair making him squirm.

“He fucking hates you and you just…spread your legs for him?” Choso asks making your breathing hitch.

“Shut the fuck up, and choose your nexts word wisely,” Sukuna warns.

“That’s not what I meant. I just don’t get it, you’ve been lying and fucking my brother. It’s weird, and what’s suppose to happen when it’s over?” He asks.

“Nothing, because it never will be,” Sukuna answers, seemingly bored of this conversation.

“Choso, you’re my bestfriend and you always will be but what I do and who I do it with is my choice. I’m not sorry that it’s Sukuna or that I love him. But I am sorry that you feel the need to be mean and avoid me. When you got with Yuki, I accepted it. It’s caused us to make adjustments to our friendship that I’ve happily complied with, there’s no reason you can’t do the same,” you say with a level head and he nods.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt,” he sighs and you smile.

“I promise you, your brother takes good care of me,” you assure.

“In every aspect,” Sukuna adds making Choso cringe and Yuki laugh.

“This conversations boring me, come home and stop being a bitch” Sukuna says.

“Fine but no more sex jokes, and please lock your fucking door” Choso says.

“Fine, now beat it. I need a word with my girlfriend “ Sukuna says making Yuki and Choso dip. He pulls your chair toward him and leans in till your forehead is pressed against his.

“You love me?” He asks and you nod.

“I love you more than I ever hated you, so much fucking more,”.

I know some of you wanted Choso’s reaction, I rewrote it so many times but I honestly don’t think he cares that much. He has no romantic feelings for her. But I do think the idea of her and his brother who is an absolute ass would seem quite disturbing.

Also she’s not pregnant! Thank y’all for the endless support on this. Gojo Tinder piece coming up next!

@whosmarjj @getoxmahito @xra1 @swoozleee @lillycore

@carefree-flowerchild

[nereidprinc3ss]

hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸

uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗

hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!

warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending

You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 

“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 

“Please, stop apologizing.” 

You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 

“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 

You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 

“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 

“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 

“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  

“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 

A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 

“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 

You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  

“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 

An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 

“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 

“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 

When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 

“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 

You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 

Says Spencer Reid? 

“...sorry?” 

He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 

“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  

“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 

He swallows and nods. 

“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  

“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 

More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 

“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 

But you're not crying because he was nice.  

Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 

His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 

“I meant every word.” 

You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 

“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 

Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 

“Had?” 

The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 

“Yeah. You know what changed?” 

“What’s that?” 

Absolutely nothing. 

“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 

Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 

“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 

“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 

You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 

More silence. 

“But you don’t believe it.” 

A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 

“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 

A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 

“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 

“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  

You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 

“What?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 

“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 

“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 

“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 

Your heart drops as you study his face.  

No. 

Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 

Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 

You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 

“What are you doing? Don’t--” 

You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 

“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 

A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 

“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 

With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 

“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 

He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 

“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 

Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 

“You... you like me?” 

“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 

Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.

And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 

You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.

“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 

“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 

“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 

“No, but—” 

“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 

“Of course I have.” 

“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 

Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  

Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 

“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 

“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 

Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 

“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 

A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 

“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 

“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 

“I do.” 

“Will you kiss me?” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 

When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.

To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 

“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 

A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 

“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 

“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 

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

epilogue

Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 

“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 

“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 

“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 

“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 

“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 

Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 

“Spencer?” 

He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 

“What does pulchritude mean?” 

It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

And so you let it float away. 

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Hello! How do you think König (or any of the guys really) would react to you calling them "my sweet lil guy"?

Thanks for this request!!🩷🩵🩷🩵 I just did this for multiple characters, as I thought this would be funny to see them! They’re short and sweet!

141 + Königs Reactions to Reader Calling Them "My Sweet Lil Guy."

Warnings: slight swearing, fluff, slight sexual references

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

“Bloody hell.” Simon groaned, his hands moving to grasp at his back. “Damn thing hurts.”

"Awe, my sweet lil guy got a backache?" You teased, moving to rub Simon's back gently.

Simon turned, slowly, toward you a look of mock horror on his face. "The hell you just call me?"

You bit your lip to prevent a giggle, watching the confusion on your boyfriend's face with amusement. "My... sweet lil guy?"

Simon stared at you, his brows furrowing in confusion. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but little isn’t one of them.”

“First for everything I suppose.” You shrugged your shoulders, struggling not to crack a smile under Simon’s intense stare.

“You’re a little brat, you know that?” Simon chuckled, kissing your temple.

“I’m the little brat, you’re the sweet lil guy.” You teased, scrunching your nose at him.”

“You’re pushing it, kid.”

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

“Everyone, I’d like for you to meet Johnny.” You smiled, introducing your boyfriend to your group of friends.

"Is this the "sweet lil guy" you've been telling us all about?" Your friend asked as she regarded Johnny with a smile.

Johnny blinked a few times before looking at you. "Your sweet lil guy?"

Your friend gave a hearty chuckle. "Yep, they call you thay all the time."

“Tha’ so?” Johnny quirked a brow at you, a devious smile making its way to his lips.

“Johnny no, pl-.” You started, but Johnny was quick to cut you off.

“That’s not what they were screaming in bed last night.”

Oh yeah, he won your friends over that night.

John Price-

“Cmon, sweetheart. It’s past midnight, surely you can put the book down and go to bed.” John groaned, it was well past his bedtime.

“Is my sweet lil guy tired?” You cooed, turning to face John in bed. “Promise I’m almost done.”

"Your sweet lil guy?" He looked at you, bemused by your nickname. “That really what comes to mind when you think of me?”

“Sure is.” You faked a yawn, flipping over to finish the chapter of the book you were reading.

John wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. “Yeah, you’re sure about that?”

Your cheeks burned crimson, the prominent bulge in your lovers boxers now pressing hard against your back. “Y-yes.”

“Give me about two minutes. Once my cocks inside that pretty little mouth of yours- you’ll be choking on those words.”

König-

“Maus, can you help me with these straps?” König asked, gesturing to the buckled straps of his vest. “I can’t reach them.”

“I’ve got you sweet lil guy.” You chuckled, making your way over to him. You began to fiddle with the straps before he stopped you, abruptly turning to face you.

Königs cheeks became beat red as he stuttered out his words. "W-what?"

“Sweet lil guy? I meant it as a term of endearment Kö.” You blinked a few times, watching as your boyfriend’s face became as red as a tomato.

König couldn’t explain why.. exactly the name had him feeling so flustered. He was ANYTHING but small, in any regard, but he…liked the thought. It made him feel you didn’t find his large stature menacing, and the thought was comforting to him.

“Can you.. call me that again?”

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

“Damnit!” Kyle exclaimed, running his hands over his head in frustration. “I was so fucking close! I had him!”

"Did my sweet lil guy lose?" You chided, watching your boyfriend throw his controller on the couch in frustration.

“Yeah. I fucking did. I’ve been trying to beat that game all.. wait what did you call me?” Kyle whipped his head around to you, and it took everything in you not to laugh.

“My sweet lil guy is throwing a tantrum.” You giggled, watching as the corners of his lips turned upward. “Does baby need a kiss to make it better.”

Kyle nodded, his bottom lip pouting slightly. “I do.”

You bit your lip in amusement, before wrapping your arms around your boyfriend pulling him close to you. “I’ve got you baby boy.”

Kyle wouldn’t ever admit it, to anyone, but he certainly wouldn’t complain if you wanted to call him that again.