#my lungs were also breathtaking

[soupuurr]

𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑘 - christopher sturniolo

pairing. sub!chris x dom!reader

genre. smut

⟶ content warnings. explicit content, porn with plot, guitarist!chris, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral, handjob, dacryphilia, overstimulation, creampie. MDNI

⟶ summary. you never expected to be drawn to your new guitar instructor, finding it hard to concentrate during lessons as your mind wanders. But what unfolds when you find yourself at his house for a lesson?

holy shit.

your breath hitched—eyes moving with reverence across the expanse of the shabby downtown studio you stumbled into. its wooden plank walls were adorned with numerous colorful guitars and basses. a breathtaking musical maze. timber stools had been meticulously placed amongst the lengthy isles, bringing you to a palatial library filled with guitar books.

your fingers ran along the straps of the acoustic guitar case resting snug against your back. as you wandered deep into the studio, your eyes bounced off of the unique furniture and decorative pieces scattered around the area.

you were quickly captivated by faint strumming echoing throughout the building, and with each venturous step inside, the sound seemed to intensify. you curiously spun around the corner of the last isle before halting—all of the air escaped your lungs as you stood, dumbfounded, in front of possibly the most ethereal boy you’ve ever seen.

he sat on a wooden stool, beat up air forces resting against the bottom. his back was hunched over a dark brown acoustic embellished with an intricate pattern along the sound hole—blue eyes trained on his fingers that expertly glided along the fretboard. wavy brunet hair peeked out from his black, lyrical lemonade beanie, and a thin silver chain rested neatly on his neck.

you must’ve startled the poor guy—he jumped after noticing your presence, nearly dropping the precious guitar in his hold.

“s-shit.” he mumbled, swiftly clearing his throat and adjusting his posture.

“i’m sorry about that. you must be my new student!” he smiled professionally before sticking his hand out,

he was your new guitar instructor?

you stretched out your own hand, his much larger one entirely engulfing yours as he shook it. your eyes lingered on his long fingers and neatly trimmed nails, his pretty hands were decorated with attractive veins and silver jewelry. you couldn’t help but imagine how they might feel inside of your pussy, your heart fluttered at the thought.

“my name is chris, nice to meet you.” he stated as he hopped off of his stool, carefully placing the guitar on a nearby stand.

chris. his name seemed so moan-able too, tumbling right off of the tongue like sweet honey.

fuck, everything about him was perfect.

“our lessons will be upstairs, in the private rooms.” your tummy flipped with excitement. you couldn’t trust yourself alone with him, fearing you might pounce on him the very moment he would shut the door behind you.

you followed him up the narrow staircase, the surrounding air tense with sexual frustration—at least for you. your gentle footsteps reverberated around the tapered space as chris led you to a roughed-up door ornamented with multiple stickers consisting of lyrical lemonade, guitars, music artists, you name it.

the interior, however, was plain and simple. holding only a tiny cabinet—filled with books you assume—and a couple of movie posters. two different guitars were leaned against the back wall, a normal acoustic, and a beautiful red electric one. chris chuckled next to you, observing your piqued interest.

“that one’s my favorite.” he nodded his head towards the cherry colored guitar.

“it’s so beautiful.” you remark. he smiled, gazing at you intently. after a sharp exhale, he reached for the acoustic guitar—preparing for your lesson.

the lesson itself was pretty uneventful to say the least, you couldn’t focus on a single thing that chris had instructed you to do, often finding yourself hypnotized by his plump lips or icy blue eyes.

truthfully, chris also found himself to be enamored by you. he found your fascination incredibly endearing. there was something about you that made him eager to learn more.

with each lesson, your bond undeniably deepened—the friendship blooming into something raw and beautiful.

and, with each lesson, chris wanted more. your cute giggles and lengthy conversations would no longer suffice. chris didn’t know what was wrong with him, he knew it was fucked up when he would catch himself slipping a hand past his waistband in the after hours, needy pants and whimpers leaving his desperate lips as his hand would wrap around his base—pretending that it was your own. he felt so dirty, so wrong.

you would be doing the same. pumping two fingers inside of your cunt whenever your mind would drift off to lewd, disgusting thoughts about your guitar instructor—his fingertips that would move so swiftly on the guitar strings would probably feel amazing rubbing against your puffy clit, plus his gorgeous face was way too perfect not to ride. just thinking about him made you giddy and immensely horny.

therefore, it was only natural that your heart would race upon receiving the text he sent you the following day.

the studio is closed today, we’ll have our lesson at my house if that’s okay with you.

*address*

a lesson at his house? you bit your nails nervously before smoothing your hand down the skimpy skirt you had planned to surprise him with. as you drove to his home, the atmosphere was suffused with unbearable silence, the prospect of being alone in his house making you nervous—you pictured him patiently waiting for you in such an intimate setting and it churned your stomach with anxiety.

you rang his doorbell and the door swung open almost immediately. chris’s eyes filled with lust the moment they landed on you, swallowing thickly as he caught sight of the skirt that wrapped so nicely around your thighs. he cursed at himself when he felt his dick grow in his pants.

“c-come in!” chris prayed that you somehow missed his obvious hard-on, stepping aside to allow you to enter while shielding himself with the door. he depravedly watched your hips sway with every step you took—knowing that he needed to control himself before he would make a mess in his pants.

“are we going to be over here?” you gestured towards the couch and small stool positioned in the center of the living room. chris nodded silently in response. what was he thinking? having the girl he fantasized about every night in his fucking living room? chris wished that he could go back in time—he wished that he never met you because fuck, you drove him insane.

and you weren’t stupid. you saw chris’s cock stir in his pants the moment you stepped foot inside, however you had to admit that you absolutely loved playing with him, doing things like stretching purposefully—exposing your navel to his hungry blue eyes.

you sat on the tiny stool, your plump thighs deliciously resting on the wood. chris wanted nothing more than to run his soft hands under your cami shirt—kiss your neck feverishly while grinding his painfully hard dick against you.

“i practiced this piece at home and i just can’t get this chord right.” you pulled your guitar from its case and hugged it tightly, wearing a pout on your face.

“will you help me chris?” you looked at him seductively from under your lashes, a tiny smirk carving its way onto your pink lips. chris gritted his teeth—you had to know what you were doing, right?

“uhm, yeah. this one’s a bar chord so you have to make sure that your pointer finger is pressing down on every string. like this.” chris adjusted his hand and you observed as his fingers curled perfectly around the guitar neck, you squeezed your thighs together in want before a brilliant, filthy idea struck you.

“hmm, i don’t think i get it” you frown, chris watched with wide eyes as you got up from your seat and alluringly strode towards him—moving his guitar out of the way so you could place your ass right on his erection. chris hissed from underneath you, still in shock as he hovered his hands over your hips. he wanted to thrust his hips against you so fucking bad, but he had to be professional. you just needed help, nothing more.

"can you show me now?" you set the guitar back on your lap and gently took hold of chris’s wrist, guiding his fingers to position them over yours on the fretboard. his fingers deftly directed yours to the correct position, while his other hand strummed the chord, its beautiful sound ringing in the air.

you softly bit your lip as you felt his breath tickling your neck, you could smell his aromatic scent—feeling him everywhere. his chest against your back, arms curved around your figure and cock pressing against your soaking wet cunt. you couldn’t help yourself as you ground your hips against his experimentally. chris gasped and placed his hands against you. fingertips curving around your hipbones so he could push your hips back onto his clothed cock. you held the guitar tightly as you rubbed your pussy against him. you felt as if you were going to explode, his teasing touch lingering on your sides.

fuck it.

you swiftly placed the guitar on the ground and flipped around—straddling him. his blue eyes greedily ran themselves down your body, landing on the spot where you intimately connected. your hands ruffled through his long messy hair before pulling at the lone strands—bringing your lips together with fervor. chris moaned, your teeth clashing and noses bumping as your heads nodded into the lust filled kiss.

chris’s hands traveled along your back, pressing gently against your skin as you wrap your arms around his neck and grind your body against him once more. your tits pressed onto him and your perky nipples grazed his chest every so slightly. you disconnected your lips with a soft smack, gazing lazily into each other’s eyes.

“tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” you huffed, placing your hands on his chest. chris hummed in response, eager for you to finally touch him. you leisurely removed yourself from his lap and perched in-between his thighs. your hands land on his belt, pulling it through the loops before yanking it off of his body. chris sat obediently, biting his lips raw—cheeks sprinkled rosy pink.

your fingers hooked themselves on his jeans, sliding them off with ease—and your mouth salivated at the sight of his pretty cock standing painfully against his abdomen, cute pink tip spurting beads of pre-cum. chris dropped his jaw as your thumb found his tip, sliding his slick along his cock. you place your lips on him and tenderly purse your lips around his slit before sliding him further down your throat. chris’s hands shoot to your hair, hips bucking helplessly while pretty little moans spew past his lips. you gently squeeze his balls against your fingertips as you watch him roll his eyes back in pleasure.

“f-fuck!” chris pants out, your acrylic nail slides its way along the base of his cock before you wrap your fingers around him, pumping him painfully slow while you hollow your cheeks. the movement of your hand gradually increases, constant squelches of chris’s slick filling the room. you pull away until your mouth was occupied with just his tip, sucking on it harshly and pushing his hips down when they would buck against your mouth, you observe his desperate gasps and pants as he got closer and closer to the edge.

it wasn’t long before lengthy, thick ropes of chris’s cum squirted down your throat. the slightly salty taste on your tongue ripping a moan from your lips, chris squirmed with overstimulation as the noise vibrated against his cock.

he looked so pretty with his face fucked out, lashes fluttering on his pink cheeks and chest heaving with every breath he took. you wanted to ruin him. please him so well that all he would be able to do is sit there and take it like a good boy.

you prod your fingers at his lips before pushing them past, watching as he sucked on them with hooded eyes—plump lips resting against your skin.

your lips curled into a smirk, abruptly pulling your fingers out and rubbing the palm of your hand against his sensitive tip. chris yelped and arched his back deliciously, body squirming against the couch as your palm pushed deeper. your fingers curled around him—digging your thumb in his slit. chris cried out, eyes pooling with tears of absolute pleasure. he squeezed them shut and sobbed, the welled up tears sliding down his cheeks as he came again. the warm spurts striking your hand and ruining his shirt.

“can you handle another one?” you stood up, straddling his hips once more. chris nodded and pushed his lips against yours, whining into every smack of your lips. you drag your hands underneath his spoilt shirt, peeling it off of his body. your other hand pushed your thong to the side before stretching your precious cunt over his cock. you both moan in unison as you begin to rock your hips—hands trailing up his chest to pinch his nipples between your fingers. chris winces and leans his head against the couch, your hips swiveling on his cock while you pinned his wrists against the cushions. you were so close, capturing his lips in a kiss when you finally felt yourself fall apart, chris’s cock twitched inside of you—filling you spurt after spurt until a ring of white cum leaked around his base.

you fall limp against him, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.

"that was amazing," chris panted—kissing your cheek as you lay on top of him. you giggled in response, brushing your hand against his jaw.

“i guess we should continue our lesson right?”

a.n.

i cannot even begin to fathom the amount of love my dilf!matt fic got. you guys are actually insane. thank you SO MUCH for reading my works and supporting me, this is such a surreal moment.

also thank you for 300 followers. ALREADY.

but seriously, i’m in shock. thank you guys so much.

tags.

@luverboychris @sturniololvrrs @sturniolo0ntop @deadiish @robins-scoop @ihad-athought @matt444nixi @delooshunalhoe @sturnlover4eva @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @sturni0l0 @pepsiboyy @devscottage @leahsbussy @sturncon @asimp4chris @gdsvhtwa @stvrnmc @bimbob1tch @m0r94n @mattsturnxoxo @themattgirl17 @lauras14567 @ev3rgreenxtrees @autsturni @killuaxgabby @sturniolosarethebest @mattssluttygf @getosuckers @kenzieiskoolaid @fuckshitslover @miabumbia @t77te @futuristicladywonderland @janiellasblog @strnzzvsp @mattsdirtylittlehoe @stvrnmc @ifwfrankocean @sturniolosl0t @madssturniolo @poopydroopt @ilymusic27 @vetej05 @anisahgonzalez @satvisfavetoodles @youtubelover03 @nicksrosetoy @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @matts-whore

i’m so sorry if i couldn’t find you/put you in here, i can only tag 50 of y’all 😭

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

hi can you do a bruce wayne fic where readers back is pressed to his chest and he’s fucking her so hard and rough while also rubbing and occasionally slapping her clit and reader is just so far gone in pleasure? thank you so so much!! 💗💗

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NSFW

I don't have a title for this, it's just... pure filth.

Basically just Bruce fucking out his frustration <3

Sorry for the long wait! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless 😚

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Your brain was mush and all of your nerve endings were on fire as a breathtaking euphoria flooded your veins, fogging all your senses.

Bruce had been on edge lately, having to deal with not only the idiots at Wayne Enterprises but also Scarecrow running rampant in Gotham at the most inconvenient times, it seemed.

He had come home with a scowl on his face, stomping into the Manor and snatching you away from your cozy spot on the couch, dragging you to the bedroom.

The room was hot, filled with the smell of sex, and you could swear you could see the windows fogging up from the corner of your eye.

Bruce was underneath you, panting and sweating, one arm firmly pressed between your exposed tits right up against your sternum, with the hand wrapped around your throat while is cock was nestled deep inside of you, pouding you into tomorrow, it felt like.

Every thrust knocked the air out of your lungs, and his other hand between your thighs rubbing your puffy clit made you see stars.

You cried out for him, grasping onto whatever part you could reach to ground yourself. Bruce was fucking all of his frustration and tension into you, grunting on your ear, using the hand around your neck as leverage to pull you back down on his dick.

You couldn't keep track of how many orgasms he'd pulled out of you already, but you knew this wasn't the last one.

Tears of ecstasy pricked in the corners of your eyes and your head fell back against his strong shoulder, your bones melting into jelly.

"B-..Bruce, I can't-" You heaved, trying to get some oxygen in your lungs.

"Just one more for me, yeah, honey? I need this... I'll treat you so good after... please.." he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as you clenched around him.

You were reduced to moans and mewls, trying to keep yourself from slipping away.

Your skin felt clammy and shiver ran through you when the tip of his cock ever so slightly nudged your cervix.

"God, yes.." Bruce moaned through clenched teeth.

His hand left your clit, a whine falling from your lips at the loss of stimulation.

His hand came down between your thighs, landing a slap on your bundle of nerves.

You squealed, your eyes widneding at the new sensation. It was a delicious mix of pleasure and twinge of pain that had your legs shaking.

"Oh shit... please do that again!" You begged through heavy breaths.

Bruce chuckled breathlessly, continuing to give your clit small slaps, grunting when your cunt constricted around him. Your nth orgasm was bubbling up in your belly, euphoria gnawing on your bones.

"I'm gonna-... fuck!" You mewled, your whole body convulsing as the coil in your stomach snapped, and you came around him.

A moan got caught in his throat, and with a few hard thrusts, Bruce spilled inside of you, filling your sore pussy with his cum.

He slacked against the bed, taking you with him.

Rolling you over so you were comfortably resting on your side, he wrapped his arms around you and littered sweet kisses all over your shoulder and neck.

"I'm sorry, baby... I needed to get it out. I love you." He murmured into your skin, making you let out a sleepy giggle.

"I'd love a bath..." you mumbled, your face pressed halfway into a pillow.

"Whatever you want, my love."

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I know it's short, I'm sorry 😭

More of my works -> 💫

《DC Taglist》: @allysunny @arkhamknightscxnt @hellonheels-x @gaozorous-rex-blog

Lmk if you want to be added/removed 😚🩷

DC taglist is currently Bale!Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, and Dick Grayson.

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[majusialikesfastcars]

SHAMELESS

Carlos Sainz x Norris!reader

Summary: you knew that you shouldn't fall for your brother's best friend, but there's no going back.

⚠️Tw: smut

!English is not my first language, so please bare with me🙏🙏!

(carlos' version)⁵⁵

Series masterlist

🥀

🥀

"So many mornings I woke up confused,

In my dreams, I do anything I want to you,

My emotions are naked, they're taking me out of my mind,

Right now I'm shameless,

Screamin' my lungs out for ya"

🥀

Love is a complex emotion. People aren't able to control the feeling of utter devotion for another person. It is also not possible to choose your beloved, the person you are going to give every part of your soul, mind and heart. The heart that wants what it wants.

You always tried to stay away from your brother's friends cycle. They were simply too much for you. Not your cup of tea.

That was until you met Carlos.

Lando as oblivious as he is, never noticed the heart eyes you were sending to the spanish driver. But Carlos? Oh, he knew straight away, sending you his famous smirk. Your heart suddenly started beating faster, when he walked up to you, his cologne mesmerizing you even more. He introduced himself, took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, leaving invisible marks that were about to stay with you forever. Then simply walked away to talk to your brother, leaving you in a mess of feelings, that shouldn't even appear, but in the same time it felt wrong for them to vanish.

Carlos Sainz was like a forbidden fruit, but you wouldn't be yourself if you at least didn't get a taste of it, even if it meant being condemned to your personal hell.

🥀

The two years, that Carlos spend in McLaren consisted of needy glances and tension, you were so adamant to break. But you never acted out on your feelings and Carlos didn't seem devastated by that, so you let it be. Then he signed contract with Ferrari. And that was it. You didn't see him much after that and eventually you focused on your own life, old feelings long forgotten.

Until today.

Carlos was sitting on the couch, probably drinking some expensive drink, while club music played from the speakers, giving people the opportunity to show off their dance moves. He was watching you, the beautiful and confident woman, who had never left his thoughts since their first meeting. The black, tight-fitting dress hugged your body, showing off all your curves. The makeup enhanced your already breathtaking beauty. He wasn't surprised at all, that so many people were following you with dreamy eyes. He himself couldn't stop staring at you. You were a fucking perfection for him.

You were dancing with some guy, who was practically undressing you just by looking at you, and his hands were wandering too much for his liking. He scoffed, clearly unsatisfied. Everyone could see how much he wanted to be in his place and he really thanked God, that Lando wasn't anywhere nearby, because even he would have noticed the way he was looking at you, his best friend's sister. Jealousy was burning his body. But he did nothing for one and only reason. You were looking directly in his eyes, effectively grounding his body in a place he was. It was as if you were giving him a taste of what he could have on a daily basis. You were playing with him, and he wasn't going to leave it like that.

After a while, when one of the many popular songs stopped playing, the man wanted to keep you by his side, moving his hands to your hips. The glass from which the Spaniard was drinking his alcohol almost broke at the sight. He should be the one in his place. You brought your lips up, but when the guy was about to kiss you, you smiled lazily, whispered something into the man's ear and moved away to a safe distance. Leaving the horny guy in a stupor, you moved towards Carlos.

You stopped between his legs, looking at him with the same look that always made him want to bend you across the table, completely forgetting about Lando. This time was no different.

"Why are you sitting here alone?" Those were the first words that came out of your mouth. Your voice was like a beautiful melody to his ears. "Shouldn't you have a circle of girls around you?"

"I don't think it would satisfy me in any way."

"Have habits changed?" you asked, running your nails down his neck.

"Oh, maybe I worded it wrong. It wouldn't satisfy me because none of them are you."

You giggled at his words, plopping down on the couch next to him. Carlos almost choked on his saliva when he felt a gentle touch on his lower abdomen, just above the zipper of his pants. You slightly turned his head towards you, getting even closer.

"Oh, yeah?" you smirked, watching his reactions to your touch. "What happened to 'I would't do it to Lando'?"

"He isn't here, is he?" Carlos asked, placing his palm on your exposed thigh.

You licked your lips, enjoying the way his raspy voice and big hand made you feel. He chuckled when you closed your eyes, letting him move his hand higher, almost touching the end of your dress. Oh, how he wanted to already get you out of it. You nearly moaned when you felt the feather touch of his digits on your laced panties. He didn't stop there. His fingers slowly, even painfully, made their way to your core. It was like he was punishing you for years of your teasing. And you loved it. The sound that escaped from your throat, when he pressed the tip of his finger on your clit, suddenly made you aware of the very public surroundings. But people didn't pay you attention, too invested in their own world. But Carlos noticed, how you observed if someone was watching. Of course he did. He pushed a finger inside you.

"Letting me touch you like that in public?" he chuckled, feeling how you clenched at his words. "Such a needy girl."

He pushed another finger in, moving them slowly and you swore you could feel your insides burning. It felt so good you wanted to cry, because you knew he wouldn't grant you release so soon. His name rolled off your tongue easily, followed by a moan. Your nails were leaving marks on his arm from how hard you squeezed it. Carlos loved it.

"Carlos, please, I —" you couldn't even form a sentence, the feeling of his fingers deep inside had you mumbling incoherent words.

"Tell me what you want, niña bonita."

That. Fucking. Bastard.

He was teasing you and you were well aware, that you would have to beg for it to end.

"Carlos —"

"Words."

"Please, faster" you managed to utter. "Please, Carlos, I beg you —"

Words stuck in your throat, when he started thrusting his fingers faster and harder. You couldn't stop moaning, when you felt your release coming closer. His other hand found a way to your throat, squeezing it gently and forcing you to look directly at him. His lips caught yours in a delicate kiss, that turned out into a messy make out session in seconds.

🥀

Your back hit the door of his hotel room, when you finally stumbled out of the elevator, still caught up in a hungry kiss. You completely messed up his hair from constant grabbing. His hands roamed on your body and it felt heavenly. He finally managed to get his keys and gently pushed you inside, not breaking the kiss for a moment. He wasted no time and you were left only in your laced panties in a couple of seconds. But he was still fully dressed and you didn't like it. So you got to work quickly. His button up shirt ended on the floor, missing a few buttons. He pushed you on the bed, getting on top of you immediately. His lips fell on your neck and you were certain that the marks wouldn't fade within few days. He took your breasts in his hands, brushing your nipples with his thumbs. But you wanted more. When you tried to move your hips against the visible bulge in his pants, he pinned you down, earning a needy whine from you.

"So eager for me to fuck you." he slapped your thigh, your legs opening instantly. "Pathetic."

You were soaking wet at his words. Your panties were quickly discarded and you could tell, that you wouldn't be able to use them anymore. He grabbed your thighs, spitting at your core.

"Let me get a taste of you first, hermosa."

His head dipped down between your legs, bringing sounds out of you, that you didn't know you were capable of making. His tongue worked wonders. He was eating you like a starved man. You couldn't count how many times you came until stopped. He looked at you, completely fucked out of your mind and you could almost see how lust appeared in his eyes again.

🥀

yourusername's instagram

landonorris stop ignoring me, I see you respond to others

yourusername miami I love you

liked by yourbffusername, carlossainz55 & others

Comments:

yourbffusername u sure u talking about miami?? 🤔

yourusername 🤫

landonorris y/n.

landonorris pick up the phone

landonorris stop ignoring me, i see you respond to others

carlossainz55 🤩

user1 are going to ignore lando's meltdown??

user2 lando omg 😭😭

user3 carlos hiding in the comments 🤔

🥀

Carlos Sainz is the winner of Australian Gran Prix.

Two weeks after his surgery, he won another race. He really knew how to make a comeback.

Tears of pride started gathering in your eyes, when he once again arrived at podium's highest step, soaking in glory. He looked ethereal, divine even. He was in his element and your heart grew at the scene playing above you. He was proving what he was capable of, glowing in Ferrari red in spite of Lewis not finishing the race. Maybe his replacement wasn't worth dropping him at all? He really belonged here. But despite all this, during the play of spanish national anthem, he still looked for you in a crowd of people cheering for him. Because your appreciation and support mattered to him more than the rest. And he found you. Standing there in the middle of Ferrari's mechanics, in his team merch with his name spread across your back and lovestruck expression on your face. You didn't care about the cameras catching your longing stare. You didn't even care about your brother facing the reality, that his best friend had fallen for his little sister. He was the only one in your mind.

When he finally walked away from the podium, soaking in champagne with the biggest smile adoring his face, your heart started to beat faster, exactly the same way, like when you saw him for the first time. He almost run to you, crashing you in a hug, unaware of Lando's stare shooting daggers at him.

🥀

Author's note: thank you for reading!!!

[soobrat]

fuck up my life; hjs

milestone celebration masterlist

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ pairing; han jisung x afab!reader (+ lee know)

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ words; 12.3k

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ genre; smut, angst!!!

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ warnings; very toxic relationship, two deplorable dirty cheaters, public sex, mutual masturbation, choking, very rough sex, bondage, ball gag, unprotected sex, slut shaming, large cock, dubcon(? just to be safe), slapping, squirting, spanking, biting, casual sex, you're going to hate mc and Jisung they're horrible people and just when you think it can't get worse hooooo boy

↻ ◁ || ▷ : If you can't set aside your morals for a story centered around two cheaters, I don't blame you, but this fic ain't for you lol. This is the first part of the second story! I'm so late to 1.5k that we're close to 2k, so I can't wait to start writing that one. Right now I'll just focus on the other two parts of this :*)

act i ➻ yeah right

Your blue eyeshadow was too flashy. Your cut crease and eyeliner too sharp and intense. Your overlined nude lipstick was downright gaudy. Feeling pleased, you stand from your vanity and inspect your outfit in the full-body mirror to your left. 

The thin silk fabric cinched in slightly at your waist, accentuating your breasts and hips. You’re basically telling men to look at them. Oh, and that slit. You turn to get a better look at it, tsking when you catch a glimpse of the swell of your ass. With how high the slit runs up and how short the dress is to begin with, you might as well just go out in your underwear. You looked like a cheap, tacky whore.

It was perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you adjust the collar of your dress. With there being no sleeves on your dress or anything covering your shoulders, the thick piece of fabric was the only thing keeping you from flashing the entire club. Long strips of silk cascade down your back after you tie it securely around your neck. 

You flounce past your drunken boyfriend on the couch, the loud click and clack of your D’orsay heels taunting him to take a look. He scrambles to sit up and doesn’t bother turning off the TV. He’s annoyed but not that bothered by you leaving the house in this state.

“What, are you going out to find someone to fuck?” He slurs. You spare him by not even glancing once. You’re sure he doesn’t want to be seen when he’s being a belligerent fool. “Huh? Is that what you’re doing? You look like a prostitute!” He yells more frantically when he realizes he’s not deterring you. You snicker before finally looking back at the poor man. His shirt is more stain than polyester and his blue-striped boxers sit crooked on his hips. His hair is a mess and he can barely keep his eyes open.

“‘Twas the goal, my love.” You smile with a wink before leaving him to drink himself to sleep.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

You hadn’t been to The Eve in years, since before you were cleansed. You enter and become engulfed by the pulsing music and dancing bodies. Looking around you can’t help but smile. This is where you belong. Across the room is a man who doesn’t share this sentiment. He feels out of place. He glances around nervously at the shameless PDA and lousy dancing. He should be at home with his loving girlfriend. 

Jiwoo is breathtaking. Her expressive eyes and radiant smile keep his lungs in constant lockdown. It’s true that she and Jisung are extremely different. She’s an early bird while he’s a night owl. Her active lifestyle makes Jisung seem sedentary. Also, she doesn’t want to have sex much at all. And when they do have sex, it’s vanilla missionary. At the beginning of their relationship, Jisung was convinced her lifestyle just needed some getting used to. Three years later and he's only gotten less strong-willed. He’s suffocating.

He needs to breathe.

Jisung has been off the market for quite a while now. After moving in with Jiwoo, his priorities shifted. He’s not a kid anymore. It’s time for him to get serious and settle down. So, no, Jisung hasn’t been to a club in a minute. It was all stressing him out, but he was dressed up and he was already here. He should at least get a drink.

One drink becomes two and two become four. Jiwoo would be pissed. He already feels guilty about keeping how he’s feeling a secret, and now he’s drunk and alone. He can already hear her lecturing him. He laughs to himself, forehead thudding on the surface of the bar. 

Everyone around him looks so carefree as they dance and shove their tongues down each other’s throats. How do they do it? Maybe he should get up and try. The dancing part, of course. Maybe he was drunk. Pushing through the sea of bodies was a blur. He was just determined to get somewhere in the middle. The more he’s completely surrounded, the more immersed he feels in the atmosphere. He gets it now, he sways his body to the music.

The people surrounding him brush against him, sometimes even knocking into him. It only helps him levitate higher. With an extended exhale he floats until he’s hovering in the atmosphere. A body brushes against his front, pulling him back down to Earth. His eyes travel down to an ass against his crotch. Electricity crawls up his legs, prickling at his skin. He doesn’t realize his hands are resting on your waist until the fabric of your short dress rides up.

“At least tell me your name before you take my clothes off.” Your voice is sweet, seductive, it makes his head swim. He yanks his hands away and tries to back up only to bump into someone behind him. His body is propelled back into you, and your behind is back against his groin. He groans, hands gripping your upper arms to keep you at a distance. “What’s wrong babe?” His hands slip from your soft skin as you flip around to face him.

The face put to the seductive voice was a near perfect match. There was a look of intrigue behind your alluring gaze as you examined Jisung. He couldn’t help feeling a hint of danger as you looked him over. The way you hold yourself indicates explicitly how confident you are. As your eyes travel back to his face he nearly flinches from the sharpness of your eyes. Did you think he was pathetic? 

Jisung clears his throat and squares his shoulders. Your smirk and snort make him shrivel up again. You lean in with an earnest look on your face.

“You seem like a sweet guy.” You smile before sauntering elsewhere. Jisung looks down, alarmed by his hand reaching out for you. He physically pulls it back with his other hand. His encounter with you sobers him up immediately and he rushes out of the club. What he should be doing is being there for his girlfriend and being upfront with how he feels.

On the way home he chews on his lip, regarding the bulge in his pants nervously. He takes a shower before even thinking of crawling into bed with Jiwoo. He sighs deeply as he joins her under the covers. It’s warm and comforting, despite how his thoughts prod at him. He should wait until the morning instead of waking her. He extends his arm to hold Jiwoo but hesitates. His mouth falls open slightly as he stares at the back of her head.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

“Jisung. Jisung!” His girlfriend’s annoyed voice jolts him awake. She throws a hand through her messy hair that just falls back around her face. He squints as the sun intrudes his eyesight, it was definitely way too early to be awake. He looks up and smiles groggily.

“Good morning.”

“Don’t good morning me, you made a mess!” She gestures agitatedly at the bed. Jisung pauses before ripping the covers away. The moist feeling against his hip and upper thigh becomes more apparent when he sees his soiled boxers and sheets. He looks up at Jiwoo as she makes a frustrated noise. She pulls the fabric of her nightgown, looking nauseated by the semen coating it. The throb Jisung feels in his groin is downright reprehensible. Whenever they have sex, Jiwoo makes him pull out and cum into his hand. The sight of his semen on her makes him aware that not only did he cum in his sleep, but he’s hard again. 

“Don’t just sit there, clean it up!” Jisung scrambles up from the bed, wrapping the comforter around him when he hears the increasing urgency in her voice. Jiwoo was repulsed by bodily fluids. Saliva, semen, sweat, all of it. She gagged once when he accidentally came in her mouth. The incident made both of them swear off blowjobs. Jisung was completely willing after the look on her face. He felt horrible. Yet here he is, getting turned on while she’s freaking out.

“I’m so, so sorry.” He laments as he rips the sheets off the bed. He watches with remorse as she rushes to the bathroom. His uncomfortable hard-on made him wonder what got him all worked up in the first place. He’s had many dreams where Jiwoo was a nymphomaniac and did unspeakable things to him. Even then, he only woke up with a boner, he never came in his sleep.

Dread fills his body as flashes of his dream enter his mind. That residual heat lingered the entire time he was awake, only now is he realizing where it came from. Images of you with your breasts exposed while bouncing on his cock fill his brain. 

“Such a sweet boy.” You moan lewdly.

Jisung shakes the dream away and clenches his eyes shut. It was because he was drunk. That was all. He loves Jiwoo.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

You brace yourself as your hand wraps firmly around the doorknob. With a sharp inhale you push the door open and are immediately greeted with your boyfriend still on the couch. He had cleaned up, it was the afternoon after all, and he fixes you with a disappointed scowl. He takes the time to realize that you’re wearing another man’s shirt again.

“What the fuck-”

He rushes over to you and you raise your arms into the air expectantly. He grits his teeth before pulling the souvenir sweatshirt over your torso and head. This time he doesn’t toss it in the garbage, he angrily throws it to the ground. 

“I thought that would piss you off.” You grin, eyes tracking him as he fumes.

“Aren’t you tired?” He asks exasperatedly. A grimace flickers through your smile but you force it back. “Aren’t you?” You quip back, angling your face closer to his. Your heartbeat accelerates when he doesn’t move away.

“You want me to fuck you? Is that why you’re doing all of this?”

You bite your lip, not shying away from his aggression. “So why don’t you fucking ask like a normal person?” He shoves you backward and you hit the door. A moan is pulled from you involuntarily. He growls, unbuckling his belt before shoving his pants down. His hands are rough as he grips you, spinning you around and pushing you into the door. Anticipation rips through you until you’re close to trembling. He makes quick work of hiking your dress up and moving the shamefully thin fabric to the side. 

“This what you want?” He wraps his arm around your chest before shoving his cock inside you. You moan out, still not answering him. He squeezes your jaw hard with his other hand. “Fucking answer me!” His voice is piercing right next to your ear and you jump, pussy clenching around him. You whimper but your resolve stays intact. He grunts as he continues to fuck you in a position that curves your back uncomfortably. 

“You’re not answering because you know you’re a whore.” His voice wavers under the power of his thrusts. “Did you let him cum inside you?”

“You think I’m disgusting don’t you?” You moan. He doesn’t answer, giving you the same treatment you gave him. He instead wraps his hand around your throat and squeezes until your eyes roll back. He doesn’t speak anymore. The living room fills with grunts, heavy breathing, and the sound of his skin impacting yours. 

He shoots his load inside you with jerky thrusts, tightening his hand around your throat until your hearing and sight get cloudy. He lets you breathe before shoving you away. You gasp in air a little too quickly, losing balance from the shove and falling into a coughing fit. Your knees burn from scraping the floor after the impact. As dread starts to spread, you count in your head; 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6-

“Stand up.” His voice sounds uncaring but his hands are gentle as he lifts you off the ground. A genuine smile almost creeps through as you clear your throat. “Go to the bathroom and clean yourself up.” You can hear his bite start to wane. 

He took longer than last time but he still did it. He always comes around. 

Despite what he said, he ends up being the one kneeling between your legs while you sit on the toilet. You wince as he wipes between your folds. The cloth is damp and cold. He doesn’t speak the entire time. His jaw is tight and his thick, dark brows are drawn together. “I could do this myself.” You stare down at him before sighing.

“Minho.”

He doesn’t answer.

“Do you remember that shirt I wore in high school?” Minho’s hand hovers in the air as he hesitates. You puff air through your nose as you smirk. “Because I’ll never forget how you scolded me. You were so nerdy with your glasses.” You giggle.

Minho continues wiping away at your mound. “You came stomping up to me and said “those words are inappropriate for school!” and told me to put on the proper uniform.”

Still nothing. Is he doing it because he knows what his silence does to you or because he genuinely doesn’t want to speak to you? The former is better, you can grapple with spite. But you can see his face softening. He’s reflecting on your fond memories, but he still says nothing.

“You never stopped. You’re still that nerd in the glasses trying to get me to behave and probably always will be.”

Minho finally looks at you. He scowls at you and you brace for him to blow up. But he just drops the rag with a gross splat before leaving the bathroom. You shoot up from the toilet.

“Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t like the sound of that.” You chase after him. “You want to give up don’t you?-” He slams the bathroom door in your face and you listen as his heavy shoes thud away.

Your nostrils burn with each inhale. The air is dry, you said that to him when you bought this apartment together. He didn’t listen to you.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Jisung was dozing off at work. It was his fault for jizzing in his sheets. He guesses Jiwoo could’ve just cleaned herself up and waited for Jisung to wake up to wash the sheets and scrub the mattress. But she didn’t and there’s no point in thinking about what if’s.

Still, he was probably gonna be here for a while. Probably gonna have to work overtime. He already planned to put his right hand to good use in the bathroom, making sure to stay quiet. Jiwoo would surely ask why he didn’t ask to have sex. She doesn’t know he watches porn or the type he watches. She’d probably faint, thinking the man she’d been with for three years was some debauched pervert.

Turns out he didn’t have to work overtime. He takes the extra hours at his disposal to take a walk through the city. He told himself he was just walking around aimlessly, but his feet were walking a specific route. Taking him to a place he should be swearing off. He can see the neon sign in the corner of his eyes, bright green and screaming at him. Walk past, you should be home by now.

He hesitantly peeks at the sign. If he were to walk in right now, would you be there again? Jisung curses under his breath, shaking the thought from his head. He shouldn’t be thinking such a thing right now. 

She was strange anyway, he thought. Calling him a sweet guy from such a brief exchange. What did she know?

Jisung eventually gives up on his walk, ignoring his brain screaming at him to take a peek inside. When he walks through the door Jiwoo is sitting on the couch, frantically nipping at her nails. She shoots up when she sees him.

“There you are.” She breathes, as if she’d been holding it. She bounds toward him and wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest before he can even hang his coat up. “I was worried you’d be working overtime tonight.” She chuckles, failing to disguise how nervous she seems. With his features wound tight, he flicks his sleeve away to look at his watch. It’s 9 pm, she should be in her pajamas already and reading a book in bed.

“You waited for me?” He asks, puzzled. Though, he was more fretful than anything. 

“Yeah, I wanted to apologize.” She slowly pulls away, guilt weighing down her cute mousey features. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” Her eyes flit up at him before she shuts them with a sigh. “Or woken you up.”

Jisung blinks, realizing she probably saw his dark circles. His fretting got stronger the more she spoke and suddenly he found himself in total panic mode. "Y-you don’t have to worry about that! I’m the asshole. I knew very well you don’t like body fluids.”

“You were asleep, Jisung. How could you have known?” She implores. She was right, it’s not like he forced himself to cum. But that part was only a cover for what he was truly guilty about. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be him. Right as he takes a breath, Jiwoo is sighing and stepping away.

“I’m gonna go get ready for bed now. Oh, and–” Jiwoo spins back around and gives Jisung an emphatic look. “You’re not an asshole, Jisung. You’re sweet. The sweetest guy I’ve met.”

After Jiwoo is closed within the bathroom Jisung feels multiple emotions tugging at his stomach. He should tell her. About everything. How he still isn’t used to their different preferences. His browser history. Going to the club. The dream.

He rushes after Jiwoo, pushing the bathroom door open to see her naked body. She squeaks and covers herself up. “J-Jisung? What…”

When he feels himself start to get hard he immediately shuts the door. He could just relieve himself and try again later. But where? She was in the bathroom. She’d be pissed if he came anywhere else. 

He kneels on his bed with uncertainty before collapsing on his face. He definitely shouldn’t do it here, but he still starts jutting into the mattress. The comforter is wiped clean of her scent so his fantasizing was dulled. But he still humps with fervor, finding something inside him egging him on. He clenches the comforter and lets out a squeezed grunt once the shower comes on. 

Jisung has been a no-good boyfriend. Apparently her friends keep banking on her to be the first to get hitched in her friend group. If only they knew what he was thinking about right now. They’d beg her to break up with him, plead her to stop shopping for rings. Maybe one of them would even speak up about the sneaking suspicions they’ve been harboring this entire time.

“I knew he would do something like that. He looks like the type to have wandering eyes.”

He whimpers, hiking a knee higher to really press his groin against the mattress. “He definitely checks out other women, he probably does it shamelessly too.”

It would be Haseul, he can feel it in the way she looks at him. She knows, she can sense that he’s no good. Jisung unbuttons his jeans to let the tip of his cock peek out from under his underwear. It feels so hot and soft against his stomach that he’s able to ignore his concerns about making Jiwoo upset. He even spits into his hand, a thick glob like he fantasizes about, before smoothing it over his cock head. 

He moves to his knees, gripping his shaft with two hands and fucking into them. With puffs of airy moans, he lets his eyes flutter shut and fantasizes about spraying his cum all over the bed. Oh, Jiwoo would get so upset. She’d call him disgusting and probably kick him out. She’d break up with him because of how bad he is.

He’s so close he can feel the heat swirling in his groin but then the shower shuts off and he hurriedly stuffs himself back in his pants. As he zips and buttons himself back up he can feel that euphoria slipping away, leaving him cold and unsatisfied.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

You linger outside your door a little longer today. You can hear the tv blaring behind it. Maybe if you come in later than usual you can conjure up some more of his passion. He’s been colder. You’re pushing it.

It was unlike you to be so antsy but the possibility of you getting to him made you open the door. Minho glances up at you, only to look back at the tv like it was nothing.

For the first time in years you felt wary about the shirt you borrowed from your escapades. You stand in the living room, waiting for anything. He could even break up with you and it’d be better than this. Feeling suffocated, you leave to your room. You barely got any sleep at your one night stand’s house. You couldn’t stop thinking about how you’ve entered a new phase. The one where they realize you’re not worth it. That you’re easy with no thrill.

You strip your clothes off and lift your covers, slipping beneath them. You angrily wipe away the tear that slips free as you lay your head on your pillow. This is what you wanted. You were asking for him to stop pretending to care about you. He’s finally done it.

When you wake up it’s dark out. Minho is nowhere to be found. Not in the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, or the spot he’s carved out for himself on the couch. 

You wish you could track him down and force him to face you. What would you do then? You’ve tried pissing him off and pushing him until he has no choice but to blow up at you. What if he doesn’t do that anymore.

Your eyes scan the faces of each mid-height male dancing under the dim lights. They’re desperate to find those pouty lips. That annoyed stare that didn’t change the fact that he resembled a rabbit.

Him being here is past wishful thinking. Him being here means he’s decided to meet you at your level. It took a lot of letting him down to get him to even fuck you the way he does now. The day he becomes a degenerate to understand you is decades ahead, if you two make it that far.

You see a pair of glasses that feel familiar. Thinking of the Minho from when you started dating used to be sweet. But seeing those thick rimmed, square glasses make you sick right now. You clench your fists. Being in this atmosphere this long without a drink feels strange, but it doesn’t stop you from making your way over to the guy with the glasses. You shove at his shoulder, forcing his attention on you. 

Jisung stares at you like a deer in the headlights. He wonders if you somehow know about the naughty dreams he had about you, or that he’s happy to see you for the worst reasons. His thoughts won’t shut up. They indulge in the nasty fantasies while simultaneously telling him he’s a monster because of them. 

Jisung wipes his sweaty palms off on his t-shirt, only then do you recognize him. It’s hard to forget someone who wears a t-shirt to a club. The same person you saw nudging their way onto the dance floor seemingly in a trance. You’re still unclear why someone like him stumbled in here, or why he’s back.

“I-I’m sorry, you probably mistook me for someone else.” Jisung distances himself discreetly with a nervous smile.

“I didn’t.” You flash him the same smile you’re sure scared him off last time. You expected him to chase after you, but when you looked back, he was rushing out of the club. You should stay away from people like him. He’s practically trembling. Your eyes drag slowly up and down his frame. “You’re a sweet boy, you shouldn’t get involved with someone like me.” You say as if he told you he was interested. You’re being insanely presumptuous, but you have your reasons.

“I would never. I have… I have a girlfriend.” Jisung announces proudly. At that moment, the both of you come to an understanding. He got a boner when you guys danced together and now he’s unabashedly staring at your cleavage.

And Jisung? He’s aware of how obvious he’s being. The lust is as pleasing as it is painful. He’s drunk on it, eating up the black, strapless bustier hoisting up your tits and miniskirt tempting him to imagine your panties. His current behavior isn’t very sweet of him, you both think.

And it’s exciting all the same.

The lights bathe both of you in shifting hues as you swirl your hips against his groin. Your hand reaches to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him closer until his breath ghosts on your neck. Time is stuck in slow motion as you both relish in the teasing. It’s exhilarating, sending shockwaves through both your veins. 

Jisung’s breath labors more and more the further he gets into his fantasy. He’s already decided that your panties are red and lacy. The straps are thin and sit high on your hips. You have on a matching strapless bra and the cups cut so low that your nipples accidentally pop out when he yanks your top down. His burlish hands grope harshly at them while he bites your neck.

Your filthy moan makes his eyes snap open. His lips are actually on your neck and his hands have moved up from your hips to your breasts. Thankfully he didn’t expose you to the rest of the club, but that’s the least of his concerns. This is it. He can’t go back now. His erection is pressed firmly against you, riding up your skirt, and his hands are squeezing your tits. Jiwoo would be absolutely devastated. Fuck, fuck, fuck, desperation pleads and claws at him. Crippling shame and guilt wrack throughout his body.

This time a filthy noise leaves his mouth as his hips jerk against you. His cock is throbbing and his head is swirling with need. The fantasy has escalated. You’re gagged and bound, writhing underneath him. He grabs a handful of your pussy. He’s ripped from his fantasy once again once he feels lace on his fingers. Your face turns against his, your mouth grazing his cheek as you buck uncontrollably in his grip. Jisung grunts and presses you hard against him. Hot seed spurts up from his tip, soiling his underwear.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Jisung rushes home and slams the door behind him. He rests against it, steadying himself. His heart feels like it’ll give out. He can’t stop replaying what happened. It makes his knees weak and triggers a deep ache in his pants. It feels so fucking good to think about. It feels so incredibly bad to think about. Jisung collapses to his knees with an anguished sob. 

“I’m so sorry.” He sputters out.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Your routine was interrupted. You return later that same night to see Minho asleep on the couch. You wonder if he’d feel relieved if he saw you returning home early. 

He shouldn’t.

You’re still thinking about him. You don’t know his name and you’ve never seen anything but an imprint of his dick, but he’s running through your mind. You want fuck him bad. Bad enough that you’re touching yourself in bed. You let out a whine when the memory gets to the part where he runs away. He ran away from you again.

Now you know it’s because of guilt rather than being intimidated. There’s a chance you'll never see him again. It makes you more upset than you care to admit. You know what it feels like when you like someone. You avoid them like the plague and feel like throwing up at the thought of them. They make you imagine a bright future way too early. This is not that, but it’s not like your other one night stands either.

Thinking of him makes you think about the state of you and Minho. You sprawl out in your empty bed after climaxing. The cool parts of the sheets sizzle against your hot skin. You stare blankly out the window, hoping sleep will take pity on you and save you from your thoughts.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

You sit at the edge of your bed for what feels like hours. Today you wish you could get to The Eve early. You’re disgusted with yourself. You want to plan your outfit and pick out something extra special. What the fuck is wrong with you. The door opening almost breaks you free from being locked in place. 

“Were you here all night?” 

You look up at Minho, who’s taken aback by the fear in your eyes.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?” His concern is strong enough to show on his face, but not to come further into the room. You bite your lip and focus back on nothing. 

“Why are you worried about me?” You ask in disappointment. It’s easy to understand why someone on the outside would think it was disappointment in him. It wasn't. 

He leaves after that. Either he asked himself that question and came to his senses, or–

You sigh, shakily standing from the bed. It doesn’t matter.

Later that night, Minho is gone again. Not there to see you dressed up with more intent than usual.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

“What have you been up to lately?”

The question was like a metal pipe crashing into Jisung’s skull. He whips his head around to gape at her. The fear in his eyes catches Jiwoo off guard but she laughs it off.

“I’ve been washing more of your favorite t-shirts lately. I thought you only saved those for special occasions?” She wiggles her eyebrows at him. She’s being cheeky, but the bile climbing up Jisung’s throat doesn’t care about that. He should tell her now before it gets worse. She’s such a wonderful woman that she’d probably forgive him. She’s so perfect, she doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.

Jisung’s cock twitches.

“I’m just trying to do more things that make me happy.” The words fly out of him, not a stutter, wobble, or voice crack in sight.

“D’aw,” Jiwoo pouts, touched as she sets down the dish she was drying to come sit next to him. She wraps her arm around his shoulder and pulls him in before placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I’m really happy to hear that!” Her smile slowly fades as worry takes over. “You know, I was worried that you seemed really down lately. I was thinking of canceling on the girls next month…”

“No!” A strange authoritative tone crops up. Jisung gives Jiwoo a firm look. “You’ve been excited about this trip for so long! You should absolutely go. The only reason I may have been down lately is because I’ve been feeling a little suffocated. I decided to try new things around town and it’s been helping.” Jisung turns his body toward her, grabbing both her hands. “Don’t you worry about me, okay?” One could say ‘trying new things around town’ wasn’t a complete lie, but it still worries him that he’s lying to his future wife so easily.  

“Okay… but if you need me to cancel-” Jiwoo attempts to rush out, but Jisung hits her with an even firmer look. 

“Go.” He says simply. With that, Jiwoo is back to beaming. She throws her arms around him and gives him a tight squeeze. Over her shoulder, Jisung’s smile fades.

Later that night, Jisung plants his dirty lips on a sleeping Jiwoo’s cheek before leaving.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Jisung is anxious as he searches through the club. He doesn’t see you anywhere at the edges of the club. The last place to look is in the middle. Jisung pushes his way through, feeling his body buzz the further in he gets.

In the middle he spots a woman with a low waisted, flowy skirt and bandeau top. When you twirl around, the skirt’s front is revealed to be asymmetrical, almost tattered in appearance with its two high slits. You move closer to him, the hunger in your eyes matching his. You breathe hotly and grab his face. All the pent up passion built up overnight culminates in a sloppy kiss. A kiss that you can barely call a kiss with your tongues laving at each other’s mouths and chins.

Another boundary has been broken. Jisung grunts, grabbing you by the throat and yanking you away from him. The shock in your eyes would give him pause before the kiss. Right now, Jisung’s lust has taken over. You might slap him or tell him off now, and he’ll respect your wishes. But you don’t do anything, other than flashing pleading eyes at him. His nostrils flare as his breathing gets heavier. He leans in and draws your bottom lip back with his teeth. After he releases it he’s leaning by your ear. 

“Open your fucking mouth.” He growls. 

Your mouth lolls open, your eyes begging even more. Jisung spits into your mouth, some of the saliva landing on your chin. You close your mouth, putting on a show of cleaning up your mess with your tongue. Jisung balls the back of your skirt within his fist and pulls you closer. Your tongues are exploring each other’s mouths as Jisung reaches under the front of your skirt. He gasps against your lips when his fingers dip straight into your wet heat. You chuckle before licking a stripe up his cheek. The skirt you’re wearing isn’t short, but the slits in the front are high enough that one bold dance move could show the entire club your cunt. 

Jisung nearly whimpers, steeling himself before plunging two fingers in immediately. You moan loudly, the loud music drowning it out. Jisung keeps you pressed close enough that only someone paying close attention could see you getting your hole fingered. Your head lulls, resting against his chest as you shut your thighs around his hand. Jisung lets go of your skirt to tug at your hair. He yanks your head back. 

“Open them back up. Now.” He spits next to your ear.

You bitch and whine, but you still do it. An intense heat overwhelms his cock. He should fuck you right now. He should tear your skirt off and use the tattered fabric to bind your wrists together while he fucks you right in the middle of all these people. The club goers bump into both of you at all sides. One stumbles backward, propelling you forward and plunging Jisung deeper. Jisung licks his tongue into your open mouth. 

Your tongues tangle together while a droplet of your juices trails down Jisung’s forearm. 

“I’m gonna cum! Choke me!” You plead pathetically. Jisung doesn’t hesitate to oblige, squeezing until your eyes roll back. Jisung finds himself mimicking your pained expression as your cunt spasms around his fingers. He grinds pitifully into nothing, reverting back to his fantasy. Your bandeau is made into a makeshift gag as he fucks you so hard your tits spasm in different directions. Your entire body jiggles from the force. 

The feeling of your hand cupped around his bulge lights up his synapses. He groans, it’s guttural as sperm shoots into his underwear for the second night in a row.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Jisung watches Jiwoo carefully, who just thanked him for doing laundry more often. Things are better than before, the two of them are more affectionate. She even has sex with him a little more. He doesn’t cum, which she was initially concerned about. He reminded her that this was ideal in their situation, and she felt better instantly.

Jisung realized long ago that missionary did nothing for him. He started to fantasize about you during it, but decided that was somehow crossing the line. Not the countless times now you’ve made him cum in his pants. Not the fact that you and Jisung have your hands down each other’s pants every night now. Not the fact that he now knows a list of what turns you on and has it memorized.

Jiwoo leaves tomorrow.

That fact replays in his mind as he watches Jiwoo maneuver around the kitchen. She catches him staring and smiles. He smiles back. 

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

You chuck the bag over the high rim of the dumpster. You feel lighter, and it’s not just because you’re no longer lugging a heavy trash bag of large t-shirts, sweatshirts, and hoodies. 

When you walk back in the house Minho is familiarly pushing you back against the door. His eyes are wild, and you can’t recall a time he’s looked this crazed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He grits before grinding his jaw. He’s fuming. That in itself scares you a bit, but it’s also that he’s been getting more and more antsy for the past month. 

“I-I don’t…”

“Bullshit.” He spits, making you flinch. He releases his tight grip on your shoulders, sharp eyes still trained on you. “You’re fucking disgusting.” His voice cracks a little. 

You’re not scared he’ll do something to you. Well, not anything abusive anyway. You’re scared because he knows you’re up to no good. You don’t know if he’s narrowed it down exactly, but you know he’s onto you. 

Seeing Jisung is the highlight of your day. Your body ignites in goosebumps as soon as you see him. Something about him, the horrible thing he’s doing, makes you feel even better about yourself than all the years Minho dedicated to fixing you. 

“Fuck you.” He spits before retreating into the bedroom. He’s been spending so much time in there that you took his place on the couch. You sleep there in your day clothes, crying yourself to sleep. 

When you see Jisung that night, you’re more exhausted than usual. He pulls your hair like he usually does, smashing his lips against yours. You don’t love it as much as you usually do. You just want to climb into bed with Minho and hold him. A part of you knows he even wants you to. But you can’t. You don’t deserve it. So you cry as you kiss someone else’s boyfriend.

He laps up the tears and you’re slowly soothed. You’re not sure to what extent, but you’ve come to understand that Jisung is a monster. He frequently brings up how wrong it is that he’s treating his girlfriend like this. His cock throbs when he talks about how he knows she’s planning to propose. He cums after imagining her face if she saw the two of you. 

“So, do you want to come over tomorrow?” He asks with a twinkle in his eye. You were both stood outside of the club. The same day he described in detail his fantasy of his girlfriend forgetting something and coming back only to see her boyfriend balls deep in you, he revealed that she actually is going away. And now he’s making another part of that fantasy a reality. You take a long drag of your cigarette, mascara smudged all around your eyes. You blow, realizing you’re not the least bit repulsed. You feel good.

“Yeah.”

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

You linger outside of the bedroom door, hand repeatedly reaching for the knob but deciding against it. Your eyes flutter shut, remembering how warm his embrace used to be. 

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

When Jisung opens the door, something feels off. Maybe it’s the lack of loud music and dancing bodies bumping into the both of you, but the hunger isn’t there yet. 

You shuffle inside, annoyed when he whistles and rocks on his feet. 

“D’you want something to drink?” He says, not meeting your eyes. 

“No. Is that the bedroom?”

“Yeah…” He hesitates before he answers and swallows hard after. “Yeah, let’s uh… let’s head inside.” Jisung offers to hang your purse up on the hook by the door, right next to a wooden bat. You do it yourself.

The bedroom is pleasantly designed, it’s clean and organized, and there’s a picture of Jisung and his girlfriend on the nightstand. A part of you was scared he was lying about it, this cements it. He hurries over to lay it down after seeing you stare at it. 

“So um, I have a few things in mind, but we could of course do whatever you want to do.”

So far this is a complete let down. You’ve confirmed that he’s an actual monster, but now you’re not so sure about his dominance. Was it just a fluke while you were at the club? You didn’t come here to be asked how you want be fucked. You sigh, considering going home and crying yourself to sleep again. While looking at the floor you see two feet plant themselves in front of you. 

When you look up at Jisung, you don’t intend for your eyes to be as glassy and pitiful as they are. It’s Jisung’s turn to sigh. 

“You’re just hopeless, aren’t you?” Jisung runs his knuckles down your cheek. The gesture confuses you, but then you notice his eyes. Before you can get excited, his hand is wrapped around your throat. Your eyes flutter shut. “Gonna make me do all the work? Hm? Can’t even fucking talk?”

You’re too busy relishing in the wave of relief crashing over you to realize you’re being disobedient. A slap across your face brings you back to reality. 

“Fucking. Speak.” He demands lowly. 

“N-no, I won’t make you do all the work–”

“Then get your ass on the bed. Hike it in the air.” 

You rush over, kneeling on the bed and pulling your dress off. Jisung comes over and yanks it the rest of the way, impatiently. He grabs your head and shoves it into the mattress before grabbing the rope from the nightstand. He told Jiwoo he wanted to learn sailor knots when she found it. He wasn’t completely lying, which is why he was able to demonstrate some for her.

Even a simple one was enough to convince her, that same knot is enough to restrain you and fulfill one of his biggest fantasies. Jisung unbuckles his belt not only to relieve some of the building pressure, but also to bend it in half. He raises the belt before swinging it down. The leather laps painfully against your ass. Your body jolts and you gasp. The sting doesn’t go away before the next lash. Another and another, Jisung is completely relentless. He stops only to haphazardly free his bottom half. 

You feel the bed dip again behind you, whimpering like a puppy. Then you feel his hard cock against your ass. You chant pleas under your breath, cunt clenching desperately to feel him inside.

“Don’t know how to shut up, huh? That’s okay,” Jisung leans over, grabbing the ball gag from on top of his nightstand. One of the many things he picked up this morning in preparation. He fastens it securely around your head, pulling the ball further into your mouth until you can’t coherently beg anymore. 

“If I were you I would stop that begging. It’ll only take longer for me to fuck you, okay?” Jisung’s voice was laced with sympathy undercut by a sinister undertone. You nod against the bed, trying to quiet your whimpering. 

You yelp as the belt lashes against you again. 

“What the fuck did I say?” He warns in a growl. You panic, silencing yourself immediately.

Swing after swing after swing after swing. Jisung punishes your ass until it’s red hot and tears have thoroughly soaked your cheeks. You gargle softly against the gag. 

“Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

You pant excitedly as he grabs your hips and pulls you closer. 

“If I do this for you, give you what you want, you have to keep it up. No noises while I fuck you open.”

You nod frantically, trembling from the sheer anticipation. His tip prods against your entrance. You knew he’d be the biggest you ever had from the times you jerked him off, but feeling him attempt to push into your hole made your eyes blow wide. You panic again, worried you’re not going to stay quiet. 

Then he shoves his way in. Luckily the force makes you choke on your scream. Your legs shake, fists balling tight. You’re pleased when you hear Jisung’s euphoric moan. He stays submerged inside you, but he’s moaning uncontrollably. 

“F-fuck, I can see your asshole fluttering, baby girl.” Jisung sounds like he might cry. He slaps your ass, this time with his own hand, testing your silence. With that, he starts moving. The pace is already brutal. His rhythmic, chesty moans show just how much this is getting to him. Does his girlfriend fuck him at all? Whatever. She doesn’t deserve this anyway. This is all for you. 

Your feet jerk up from the bed with each punishing thrust. It’s like he can’t help himself, he has to go balls deep every time. Each thrust with your cunt stroking him pulls a different string of moans. You’ve never heard him so vocal, and it’s never been so hard to shut up. He’s milking your pussy so good it’s making you cry. Silent sobs squeeze from your body as his body drapes over yours. He grabs your throat, making it even worse. Your sobs become audible, but he doesn’t even care. You’re both too far gone to care about how loud you’re both being.

His bottom lip drags from your shoulder up to the apex of your neck. He’s croaking out moans right next to your ear and you know he’s gone. You tug at your restraints, wishing you could touch and claw him right now. 

His seed is hot as it spurts into you. The sensation sends your body down, flat to the bed. His hips follow, continuing to buck into you as your orgasm rockets through you. You essence squelches around him until it forces him out, continuing to spray and soil the both of you.

The two of you lie there with loud, hoarse pants for what feels like hours. You expect to turn and see the sun rising. It doesn’t matter because it’s sunny inside your body. The minute Jisung unties you, you’re reaching to hold him close. Your hands travel down his back and over his shoulders like you’d been craving. Somehow the come down is still so euphoric. You both buzz long after you’ve cum.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

It was two years ago that Minho put a code on his phone. He doesn’t use it for anything but checking emails and making calls, so he didn’t worry about most of the traditional phone activities. You never understood why putting a code on his phone was included in that, and you warned him multiple times that he would get his phone stolen. You knew that a code wouldn’t keep someone from getting in if they really wanted to, but you weren’t saying it to help him out. Besides, he’d just shrug anyway. 

So you went through his phone. 

You guys had a fight, back when they used to be coherent, and then he put a lock on his phone. All that to say, you couldn’t have prepared for Minho’s spotty appearances lately if you wanted to. You were serious about tracking him. The unknown was sure to kill you. Death was the only thing that could come from pain like this. You didn’t actually do it this time, did you?

Was he at someone’s house? Someone who’s been begging him to ditch you and enter a healthier relationship? Who could it be? He doesn’t go to church, his family either lives far away or are constantly going on trips, his friends have essentially rage quit their friendship… who else does that leave?

You wish that meant there was no other way he could’ve connected with someone, but it’s not true. He’s handsome and a great guy. There’s no way no one has approached him in all these years.

Your vision has long blurred, the show on the television becoming blobs of color. You haven’t showered since you’ve been with Jisung. You feel gross but have no desire to move. Whenever you hurt him, it’s intentional. Sometimes you even spend the night alone at a hotel and buy a shirt from the men’s section the next morning, pulling it onto your frame right before you get to the door. Right now, it’s completely subconscious. You’re going to Jisung’s in an hour and it’s the only thing that makes you feel like anything other than death. The warm feeling you get at the idea of being with Jisung doesn’t come from wanting a reaction out of Minho. That brings a dark, gnarling fear out of the depths of your soul.

You don’t like Jisung. You love Minho. That much is apparent when you see Jisung. He doesn’t give you butterflies. You just feel comfort in the way he can still fuck you with traces of his girlfriend everywhere.

Jisung freezes mid-greeting to look at your old clothes. You’re definitely different from your encounters at the club. He noticed you go from dominant and intimidating to submissive very gradually. It hit its peak when you had your arms crossed in his bedroom yesterday, refusing to initiate anything. He chuckles at you which earns him a scowl. He tugs you inside and kicks the door closed, leading you all the way to the shower. He’s back to taking complete control, pulling your dirty clothes off one by one. 

He steps behind you once his clothes are off, smoothing his hands over your now moistened skin. The hot water aids in raising the temperature between the two of you. Jisung finally feels you relax against him. He moves his hand down between your legs. He parts your thighs, letting the water trickle over your mound. His cock gets hard fast when he’s with you. You feel his shaft rest rigidly in between your cheeks as he lathers soap all over your body.

To your disappointment, he doesn’t fuck you in the shower. He simply rubs your body everywhere but where you need him. He steps out the minute all the suds have been rinsed off your skin. He tepidly dries himself off, tossing the towel over his shoulder. You watch him clean his glasses before putting them back on, only for them to fog right back up. He looks over at you questioningly. 

For a moment, with his eyes obscured, you can transplant the image of a younger Minho onto him. Your mind starts to wander to an alternate reality where Minho knew you were a lost cause right off the bat. How different would your dynamic be? Would there be one at all?

“You should’ve been on the bed by now. Hurry up and dry off.” Jisung’s voice and expression ooze with disappointment that makes your core hum. You dumbly turn off the water while keeping your eyes trained on his naked figure. This is your first time seeing him completely bare. You almost saw it yesterday, as he took a shower right after you chickened out of staying any longer.

When you climb onto the bed you hike your ass in the air again. His hand thundering down on your ass makes you jolt. “Not today.” He grunts as he lies down on his back. He rests his hands behind his head. 

“You were a fucking brat yesterday. Immediately putting me to work and then not staying quiet. Did you think I missed that at the end?” Jisung raises his eyebrows, scolding you both with his words and his eyes. You wish you could put the Jisung you first met and this one side by side. He is totally relaxed while easily maintaining control.

“Straddle me, and hold your arms together behind your back. You’re putting in work today.”

You bit your lip to stifle the whine threatening to get you punished. This is a pillow princess’ worst nightmare. Your eyes unwittingly move to his cock which is so hard gravity is failing to lay it flat on his stomach. Your fleeting thought to disobey just to get more effort and attention from him disappears. 

So you clasp both your wrists and slip onto his cock. You didn’t realize how wet you were until his head slid past your entrance. His cock feels so hot and so does his skin when your calves graze his thighs. It’s electrifying yet inviting. You get the urge to lean against his chest but he’d probably pull out, and that would annoy you enough to make you cry. 

And so you bounce, letting him see the front of you fully nude in all its glory. How your tits bounce and hips swing. He grabs your hips but not to guide you, to dig his fingers into flesh. 

This, you figure, is one of his favorite positions. You figure because it’s the first time he’s cum twice for you. That, and it’s the only position he repeated. For the next two weeks, he has bounced you on his cock while standing up with your legs tightly secured around him, had you flat on your back with your legs in the air on his dining room table, had you halfway off the couch while straddling him again, and so on. He always shows you a picture or a video once you get to the area of his choice. His calm dominance melts away just for a moment as he excitedly presents it to you. Him baring his deep passion to fuck you strangely doesn’t push you away. You find yourself squeezing your thighs, wide eyes matching his as he shows you the position.

The two of you have gone from barely speaking outside of sex to making out as soon as he opens the door. You both giggle like schoolkids in anticipation. You both joke through a blur of lips and teeth.

But that excitement and glee fades as soon as you’re back in your dreary apartment. The escalation of childlike joy when you’re at Jisung’s directly translates to escalated sorrow when you’re back at yours. 

You only catch glimpses of the back of Minho these days, either retreating to the bedroom or out of the apartment. You have the urge to sleep over Jisung’s for the rest of the time Jiwoo is gone. That somehow feels like crossing a line that’s comically insignificant at this point. You know Jisung would understand what you mean. That night you took a shower at his place, he washed your clothes for you.

“You could stay until they’re done.” Jisung suggests after some tense silence.

“No, I should go.” You shoot it down immediately. The option has always been unspoken but ever present. To stay a little longer, watch a movie, drink some water, maybe actually cuddle. Not like what you did the first night, where you ran out of there as soon as you realized you were caressing someone else.

“In what clothes?” Jisung chuckles. You glare at him again. You hate when he does that. Well, you did, until you realized you’re both horrible enough to have fun while being unfaithful. 

“Can’t I just borrow some of hers? I’ll wash those and-”

“No.”

Just then, the Jisung from the first time you met him was back. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, but you could see the raging conflict behind them. So you left with some of his clothes instead.

You told him you were in a relationship, but not much else about it. Since then there was a mutual understanding of each other. It made your tension trickle away wrapped in his arms. You were able to at least disassociate so the depth of the pain became less apparent.

Then Jiwoo would call.

Jisung was sickeningly sweet over the phone. You laughed to yourself while listening to his overexaggerated joy when speaking with her. The humor rotted away when catching glimpses of her voice. She's elated to speak with her boyfriend. She can't sleep without him. There's no way they're not getting married soon.

In the corner of his bedroom the space grows vast, Jisung suddenly on the other side of a treacherous fissure.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

You enter the apartment as soon as Minho leaves his room. He stares at you, clearly shocked. He probably expected to be gone before you came home, so you wouldn’t see him dressed up with his hair styled and your favorite cologne on. It’s been a long two weeks, so the stinging in your eyes turns into tears fast. He pushes past you and leaves the apartment, leaving you to collapse to the ground. The pain is immediate because the denial has shriveled up. You’re being forced to accept that it’s happening. Anger swiftly takes hold as you’re reminded of one hard to swallow truth. 

You stand up and grab the lamp beside the entrance. You shove it to the ground, the delicate glass covering shattering before the bulb does the same. You send the potted plant into the tv, throw a stack of plates onto the floor. Once your energy is spent, the fact is still there.

You have no right to be upset.

You throw a tantrum and break things because you made your own bed, but you have no right to do that either.

You deserve this.

You deserve him bringing a new girl home and fucking her loudly in the bed you used to share. You deserve him coming home every day and telling you what a worthless piece of shit you are. You deserve him introducing you to the girlfriend he’s been hiding from you and shoving his tongue down her throat right in front of you.

You deserve him giving up on you and admitting you were never fixable to begin with.

Your stomach caves from the sheer force of your sobs. Your body contorts, tangling within your bed sheets and kicking the cover off. You force yourself to imagine all these things he deserves to do to you even though it feels like it’s setting you on fire. You cry and cry until your body feels hollow and you stare numbly at the wall.

The sun rises.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Your ears pick up each sound but it’s muffled. The sound of the door opening. The sound of his boots crunching against glass. The sound of him crying. The sound of him leaving. 

The sun sets. It’s time to see Jisung. 

Your body wobbles as you sit up. Your body feels like a ton of bricks. You rush to the bathroom, finally emptying your bladder. You’re going to his house with the same clothes from the day prior again.

He opens the door, chuckling just like the last time you did this. “No work today?”

You’re not in a laughing mood, though. You thought things would be like they had been. You’d be depressed while you were home and cheerful at Jisung’s place. But no, the tears break free and stream down your face. Jisung pulls you into the house, asks if you’re okay. He shouldn’t. People like you don’t deserve sympathy. You grit your teeth, grabbing his jaw and pulling him forward. He stiffly places his hands on your waist, hesitantly accepting the kiss.

You cup his cock, making him moan and grant your tongue entrance to his mouth. You push him toward the couch until he flops down onto it, looking at you in bewilderment. 

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He asks just before you devour him again. You guide his hands to your breasts, whimpering when he pinches your nipples. 

“Fuck me.” You plead, voice weak and eyes glassy. Your eyes don’t plead him like they usually do. You’re deeply hurt, your lip trembling and shattering his heart. 

“Babe c’mon, let’s stop–” Jisung reaches up to caress your face, laughing awkwardly.

“Don’t call me that.” Your tone is venomous as you swat his hands away. Jisung is taken aback. Not because of your tone, but because he hadn’t realized he called you that.

Exasperated, you huff and reach for his dick. Once it’s free, you’re awkwardly shimmying off Jisung’s basketball shorts. Jisung is finding it difficult to find the words he’s looking for. It’s too late anyway, you’re sinking down onto his cock. Sex with you is like a defibrillator. It jolts life back into him, no matter how much the guilt is getting to him. It lets him set aside his worries for now to just focus on how wet and tight you are around him. The constant access to you is dizzying. Just when he’s coming down from his high, you’re back with another dose.

Without Jisung’s strict rules or constant orders you’re able to think. It’s horrible.

“Fucking choke me– ngh! Yell at me!” You grit out.

With this Jisung is back to reality with you. He stammers, your eyes and your words conflict each other.  He considers it, playing along while his heart’s not in it. The sex is going to be subpar today clearly, so it doesn’t matter what he does next.

“Jiwoo called me earlier today.”

You’re chugging along, hoping this transitions to him hissing demands at you. 

“Well, she calls me every day. I used to think it was because she was worried about me. I thought that was the same reason she hugged me so long before she left,” Jisung’s voice is conversational despite the strain your cunt squeezing him is giving it. His eyes are fussing with a conflict again. You stop, in exasperated shock that he’s opening up about this right now.

“She even gave me this look before she went out the door. So I kept telling her every time she called that I was okay and that she should have fun. That she didn’t have to call me every day. But today…” Jisung feels his heart clench as he recalls her words.

“Things are going really great recently, aren’t they?” She laughed, it sounded so sweet. Jisung could hear the commotion of activities more fun than being on the phone in the background. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I think about you so much that it's hard to have fun while I’m here. I miss you so, so much… and I realize now that I don’t like being without you.” She laughed again, but this time Jisung could tell she was crying. “I kinda wanna come home?” 

She was asking him.

“W-what did you say?” You swallow hard, trying to hide the horror in your eyes. Would he really tell her to come home? Is she about to walk through the door and fulfill his fantasy? Your stomach drops as you glance over your shoulder.

“I said no.” Jisung says quietly. You turn back to see his bitter smile. “I stayed on the phone with her for hours to soothe her and convince her to stay.” Jisung huffs, attempting to blink away his tears and failing. His head droops, hiding from you. He hiccups, “She was so happy with me after I did that. She-”

You cradle his face, slowly lifting it to face you. Jisung looks upset at this, shoulders bouncing as he begins to cry harder. You try to wipe away his tears with your thumbs, shaking your head when they quickly get replaced.

“It’s better this way.” You say weakly. 

“What?” The frustration leaks through Jisung’s anguish. He tries to shake away your hands but you grab him more securely and force him to look in your eyes.

“You don’t want her to know how awful you truly are.” 

Seeing the pain intensify in your eyes, Jisung stills. Knowing he understands now, your hands drop from his face. Suddenly, you feel more alone than you have in weeks. You start to get up but Jisung’s hands caress your face now. A tear hangs on your eyelash as you gaze wearily at him. You wish he’d just let you go. At least rotting in your bed, you’d be faced with one facet of pain. Staying here with him is like watching the last bit of color drain from the world.

He's not sure exactly what happens when you walk out that door. What he does know is you come back weaker than before. He sees the dread in your eyes at going back.

“Stay here.”

“No–”

“Stay.”

You stare at him, wondering if he’s just saying this because you’re the only one he can engage in this kink with. Then he kisses you. He inhales deeply as he threads his fingers through your hair. He captures your lips, detaches to breathe and captures them again. The lack of tongue or teeth feels foreign. You can’t remember the last time Minho kissed you like this. It’s only been drunk and sloppy, rough out of anger, or awkward in pursuit of keeping your trash-fire relationship a secret. 

The only thing close to Jisung’s trembling lips against yours was when Minho first found out you fucked someone else. He pleaded with you to tell him it didn’t mean anything, to tell him that you still loved him. His lips then were frantic, refusing to let you slip away with his hands caging you in. If only you did slip away back then. His life would be better now.

But Jisung is steady. The underlying shame and regret don’t dull the passion flowing from his lips. His hands feel like they're caging you. Begging you to just stay.

Another boundary has been crossed. The final one. There was no redemption to be desperately dug up to salvage your souls as you kiss each other like the world might tip off its axis if you stop. The two of you only break apart to moan as you ride him. Your hips grind against his lap, his dick as far in as it can go. You moan into each other’s mouth as Jisung’s climax brings you closer to yours.

And yours comes and goes. Your freshly showered bodies lay as close as you can get in his bed, arms wrapped tightly around each other.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

You jolt awake multiple times during the night, jolting Jisung awake with you. He just soothes you back to sleep, not asking about your nightmares detailing each scenario you forced yourself to imagine two nights ago.

Jisung leaves early in the morning, whispering to you to lock the door if you leave.

“You can stay, though.”

To your horror, Jisung kisses your cheek. Him falling for you hadn’t crossed your mind. He had always been so sex focused that romance seemed like a distant afterthought. He could have rubbed circles into your back each time you awoke because he was being nice. Your rationalizing is cut short as an even more horrifying thought rears its ugly head.

You wished he had kissed you on the lips.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Judging by the mess you left behind, Minho must think you’re on a rage fueled bender right now. He never did check if you were in the room that morning, so maybe he thinks you trashed the apartment, left, and never came back. You know for a fact he’s worried. Very little could stop Minho from worrying about your safety. That’s why even someone like you never played that card to get his attention, and why you’re worried sick. You pace around Jisung’s apartment. Your phone is still at the apartment, shattered from your temper tantrum. He would probably report the incident to the police before he contacted you, but the sight of your phone broken on the floor with you nowhere to be found doesn’t encourage confidence.

The thing is, you can’t go back and face him. Walking in, completely unharmed and freshly showered, with some other man’s clothes on and guilt evident on your face would just cement it for him. All you would do at that point is apologize, and what’s left of his soul would shatter right in front of you. You clamp your hand over your mouth, unable to bear the image of Minho realizing there’s actually someone else. You’re horrible to him, but the only thing he could be sure of is that you only love him. You imagine it’s the only thing keeping him around.

Minho putting together that all these years of pain and suffering and praying you’ll change has culminated in someone else getting the appreciation he deserves could change him forever.

So you lower your hand from the door knob.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

That night with Jisung was different. You were both so overwrought with guilt that you spent the evening taking turns soothing each other. When you finally had sex, it was more tender than it ever should be. He was hovering over you, looking straight into your eyes and he smoothed his hand over your hair. He peppered soft kisses all over your face. You loved every second of it. You showered together again and cuddled in bed. 

“Minho? Is that his name?” The sound of his name makes you flinch. You move away from Jisung who looks at you in confusion. 

“Don’t say his name!” You shout, stumbling out of bed. He blinks at you as you start to gather your clothes. He follows after you, stammering an apology. 

“Y-you said his name in your sleep yesterday. I’m sorry– I–”

“Just stop!” You’re more panicked than angry, which comes through in your voice. Your voice is loud, so it could be heard through the door. Pounding against the door makes you gasp, you stumble backwards. Jisung catches you, pulling you close.

“Who’s there!” Jisung shouts.

“Open the door!” Minho shrieks, his throat sounds like it’s tearing from the sheer force. Jisung grabs the bat, readying it before swinging the door open. Before he can even threaten him, Minho is pushing past him, eyes frantic as they search for you. When he finds you, you see it. You’re clean, unharmed, wearing nothing but Jisung’s shirt as you hug your body. 

He’s putting the pieces together.

Your mouth feels dry, your tongue feels like it’s swelling. The way Minho’s shoulders slouch makes your chest ache. He shakes his head at you in disbelief. 

“Your purse.” He gestures weakly at the bag sitting on the couch from when you entertained the idea of going home. “The tag is connected to my phone because I knew you’d do this.” Despite being so quiet, his words slash you open. 

“Minho…” Your trembling hands cover your mouth. This is it. This is it.

“Minho I didn’t mean to scare you I swear–”

“You can have the apartment.” The words fight their way from Minho’s mouth, but he’s not able to look at you. 

“Minho?” You try pitifully. Minho just drops his head, lingering for just one more moment before leaving. Jisung is quick to hold you, caress the back of your neck as if to cushion the incoming sobs. But they don’t come. 

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

“For some ungodly reason, he’s going to keep paying your lease.” You gape at the woman. She doesn’t introduce herself, but you know it’s her. The one he wore your favorite cologne for. 

“He told me not to but fuck it– don’t contact him.” She shoves a finger into your face. “Don’t go looking for him, don’t make this any worse than you already have for the past twelve years.” She pauses, waiting for your reaction, seemingly expecting you to explode on her. You nod, finally closing your mouth that had been hung open this entire time. 

“Okay.”

She looks confused before she shakes her head and walks off of Jisung’s porch. 

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Jisung comes home with Chinese takeout. 

“I’m going to set it on the table.” He says breathlessly as he takes off his coat and hangs it on the coat hanger that his girlfriend undoubtedly picked out. She’ll be back in five days. He’ll erase any signs of you and go back to normal. 

“Are you hungry?” He asks.

“What the fuck are we doing?” You say before you can stop yourself. It’s quiet for a moment, and you refuse to turn around and see his face. 

“What?”

“Why would I sit at that table and eat with you?” You stand up, finally turning around once the emotions stirring inside you are potent enough. You interrupt him before he can answer.

“Your loving girlfriend is going to come home soon.”

“That doesn’t change anything. I mean, we can still meet at your place–”

“She’s going to propose to you, Jisung.” He freezes for a moment, but you can tell by his face that he still doesn’t get it. 

“Do you seriously think she’ll never be suspicious? That she won’t wake up one night and realize you’re not there? Then she’ll pretend she’s asleep and hear you walk out. Then she’ll be more aware of the clues. You smell like perfume that’s not hers, there was a small amount of lipstick smudged on your collar, you’re sexually satisfied all of a sudden,”

Jisung swallows, “Then we’ll be careful.”

“Are you seriously willing to risk your relationship?” You ask, a nasty hint of amusement in the way you raise one brow at him. He closes his mouth.

You laugh loudly, the laughter spiraling out of control before you finally catch your breath.

“I fucking knew it.” Your expression sours, settling into a bitter one as you yank your purse off the hook.

“Don’t leave…”

“I don’t give a fuck about you. Don’t waste your time on someone who wouldn’t care if you died. Focus on your fucking fiancée.” You look back slightly before slamming the door behind you. 

Jisung wasn’t sure why he felt a bit panicked. His heartbeat accelerated as he stabilized himself against the counter. The slam of the door echoed in his head over and over until Jiwoo was kneeling in front of him, surrounded by all their friends and family. Everyone swooned, there were tears in Jiwoo’s eyes and all her friends' eyes. 

“Han Jisung, will you marry me?”

Jisung looked around frantically, feeling like the world was spinning. Only then did he realize why he was immediately panicked by you leaving. It was solidified by the fact that he couldn’t get in contact with you. He never did get your address, and you either never got another phone or changed your number.

Jisung’s breaths felt like they couldn’t break free. 

He was suffocating.

“Yes.”

-> end of act i

skz masterlist

milestone celebration masterlist

[reyla-the-black-wolf]

My heart speaks for you (Part 1)

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Pairing: Eris x f!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: a bit fluff, slight angst, no other that I could think of

Summary: Y/n is the youngest child of the High Lord of the Night Court and lives a slightly different life than the rest of her family. But what happens, when an unexpected visitor enters the stage and decides to completely change her life?

Part 1 ⎮ Part 2 ⎮Part 3⎮Part 4⎮

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The festivities were in full swing. All the guests wore breathtaking ball gowns and suits in every colour imaginable. And the shooting stars above us glistened like jewels from some long forgotten treasure. 

It was Starfall at the Night Court and our High Lord and his High Lady had worked hard to prepare this stunning ball. This year they wished to open Velaris to everyone, so all the other Courts were invited to enjoy this magnificent night. 

I stood on one of the many balconies at the House of Wind, gazing up at the wonderful night sky above me. The stars seemed magical as they came down one by one to greet us like old friends. I closed my eyes to worship this moment. The chatter of our guests echoed up to where I leaned against the marble railing. It cooled my skin, which was still hot and sweaty from all the dancing earlier. The sound of glass clinking, as people toasted each other. Sweet smelling pastries and other delicious treats hovered in the air. My mouth instinctively watered and I subconsciously smiled.

A lovely fresh spring breeze made my black silken dress swirl around my ankles. My hair stood on end at the sensation and I shivered. Taking a deep breath, I let the night-chilled air fill my lungs. I never wanted this tiny fragment of life to pass, as I enjoyed it to the full. Letting it sink into the deepest parts of my soul and surround me like a thick, cosy blanket. I could feel a warmth spreading all over my skin.

The fabric of my dress caressed my legs, as the wind brushed past it. It accentuated my body in all the right places, from my legs up to my hips and to my breasts. A silver necklace curled its way around my neck with a moonstone in shape of a teardrop set in the centre. It shimmered so brightly as if made of a star itself. To complete my look, I´d chosen some silver earrings. Also with a little moonstone. 

The Cursed Princess of the Night. 

That was my title. At least, that’s what other Fae called me. 

I opened my eyes only to pull back suddenly, as a tall, red-haired Fae stood beside me, watching the Starfall. Apparently I must have been under some kind of spell, as I didn’t hear the man approach me from behind. 

He was at least two heads taller than me and wore a dark crimson tunic with golden embroidery and a creamy white linen shirt underneath. The vest looked like it was made out of blood and the linen shirt perfectly showed off his toned muscles on his arm and chest. A few gold rings curled around his long, slender fingers. And his hair. I almost forgot how to breathe. His hair was a kaleidoscope of fiery colours. A blazing fire of red dawn and golden sunset. Neatly brushed back. He smelled of fresh parchment, rain and red wine. A warmth enveloped him, spreading until I could feel it shiver over my hot skin. 

I knew exactly who was standing before of me. The short, flaming hair. The lean figure. His exquisite attire. Standing beside me was the heir of the Autumn Court.

 Eris Vanserra. 

Apparently, I had let my eyes roam over his form for too long, for when I shifted my gaze to look at his face, he was staring right at me. I´ve never felt so exposed in my entire existence. He watched me as if he could peer straight into my very soul. I was in a trance, an comfortable feeling settled in my stomach. Cauldron! He looks like as if he was carved out of fire itself! All I could do was stare at him in awe. His handsome features. The sharp jawline and his amber eyes. A mischievous smirk played across his full lips, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. Blushing, I looked down at my feet. 

„What is a beautiful lady like you doing up here? Shouldn´t you be dancing with your family or perhaps with the guests?“ His voice sounded like a stream of molten gold. Delicate and charming, but with a hidden danger to it. I wanted to answer him. I really did. But… I just couldn´t. The words in my mind, but my mouth frozen.

When I didn´t respond, he tilted his head to the side. Like a fox staring at its prey. Something flickered in his eyes. Was that curiosity? 

„Pardon me, where are my manners? I´m Eris Vanserra. Heir to the Autumn Throne.“ He threw an elegant hand gesture in my direction and bowed his head. A few strands of his bright red hair fell loose across his forehead, giving him a cheeky look. 

„And you´re the Princess of Night, I suppose? Y/n, right?“ It was nothing but a statement. Of course he knew who I was. Not sure what to do, I just nodded quickly. 

Gathering some strength, I looked him right in the eye and then leaned back on the balcony beside him. My eyes were on the city below us. Velaris. He simply hummed at me, his eyes also sweeping over the City of Starlight. 

„It´s beautiful“, he commented, „but nothing compared to the view next to me, of course.“, his voice smooth as silk. I´d never met the Autumn Court heir in person, but I knew of his reputation. It was said he was a cruel and arrogant man. There was no trace of it now. Still I couldn´t help but smile shyly at his compliment. Daring a glance in his direction, I blushed uncontrollably. He stared at me again, a shameless grin on his face. What was going on? Normally, I´m not one to be flattered easily. Must be the alcohol… 

I smiled and nodded gratefully at him before turning my gaze back to Velaris. Enjoying the view of the city. My home. 

„Can you keep a secret?“ A hint of humour flashed across his face. I looked at him with big doe eyes, waiting for him to continue. „Starfall looks lovely, but in my opinion, it´s nothing compared to the Autumn equinox.“ A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. „You should visit it one day. Definitely worth it.“ He stared off into the distance, as if lost in a memory. He then began to tell me about the autumn equinox, about his brothers, growing up in his fathers Court. If anyone else had seen us, they probably would´ve mistaken us for old friends. Was I genuinely surprised that he shared such private details of his life with me, a complete stranger? Yes. Did it bother me? No, not in the slightest.  

I could feel myself relaxing as he spoke and Eris clearly didn´t care that I didn´t answer. He simply went on sharing his life with me. And I listened carefully to every word he said. Something about it felt quite intimate, as if he trusted me with his very soul. The man next to me, was the complete opposite of what others said about him. A ticklish feeling crept its way into my chest and somehow I knew he needed… this. Just two strangers standing on a balcony at the House of Wind. One talking, the other listening. He needed this as much as I did.

We remained like that for a while. Just the two of us, Velaris below and the stars falling upon us. Now surrounded by a comfortable silence. Eris decided to break it first.

„I´ve heard tales about you, you know? The cursed daughter.“ A pause. „Some say the Cauldron is to blame for your inability to speak.“ I stiffened at his unexpected honesty. „Why is it you can´t talk?“ A thousand questions sparkled in those beautiful eyes of his. It was nothing new for people to have questions about what was wrong with me. They made up all kinds of tales and theories. I was used to them talking behind my back, but I hadn´t expected him to bring it up. Always at ease with my condition, I was surprised, when something felt out of place. A sensation that had changed. But why? I didn´t even know him. Why would he elicit such a reaction in me? 

Feeling his eyes burning into my skin, I looked up at him, longing to say: I wish I could answer you. I truly want to! But I can´t…

Another expression slipped into his honeydew eyes. Sympathy. As if to tell me: I understand.

My eyes watered, but I didn´t mind. I felt completely lost in those cascades of liquid sunlight. Framed by his long lashes and fine wrinkles. Some others wouldn't even have noticed them. 

My star, where are you? Your mother is worried about you.

The voice of my father echoed in a corner of my mind, jolting me out of my trance. I blinked a few times, glanced at the door behind me and back at the man by my side with something, others might have called a pleading look. I have to go.

Eris understood and gave a deep bow. „It was a pleasure to meet you y/n. Princess of the Night.“ Something about the way he said it didn´t make me dislike that title.

I curtsied and spun around on my heel, sensing that this wasn´t the last time I would run into Eris Vanserra. 

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I spent the rest of the night with my family. Mor had a bit too much to drink, but so had her friend Viviane. They sat on the floor with Amren and Varian on velvet cushions, eagerly talking about some event, that happened recently. Cassian and Nesta were leaning on the great balcony, enveloped in each others arms, enjoying their togetherness. Uncle Az was watching the place, searching for any threats, as always. My father had told him, he had the night off, but why break with old habits. And then, there were my parents. High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court. Their crowns shone beneath the chandelier. Made of the most precious diamonds. Currently they were engaged in a lively conversation with Helion and some other Fae. Nyx, my older brother was next to them, holding a wine glass. His wings properly tucked behind his back.

I stood silently in a corner, observing the room. Every detail. The glittering embroidery on some of the ball gowns. The crystal glasses and the way the light was refracted in them. A scent from the pastries caught my attention and I took a deep breath. They smelled incredible. I was caught up in a maelstrom of iridescent colours as I watched the dancing guests. A whirlwind that carried me away and consumed me. A feeling crept over me as if something was watching me. Or rather, someone was. I scanned the hall, but found no one. 

Then a deep, nocturnal laugh snapped me out of my thoughts. My father's laughter. Seeing him and my mother so happy, made me smile to myself. I loved them dearly. But every time I saw them like this, something stirred inside me. A familiar feeling tugging at my heart.

Silent as a shadow, I sneaked out of the hall and headed up to my chambers. It was another wonderful Starfall, no doubt, but right now I wanted nothing more than to sleep. To swallow those rising emotions and banish them for the rest of the night. 

I quickly changed into something more comfortable and lay down on the large bed. Burying myself under the sheets, I soon drifted off into a deep sleep. 

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Grey rain clouds darkened the sky and a sharp wind tore through the treetops. Loose, broken leaves were blown from the muddy ground. I felt a piercing cold creep up my bare ankles, like a dead hand reaching for me. My tangled hair fluttered around my face as the panic trapped within my chest threatened to burst. Breathe! Breathe! My heartbeat rose higher and higher. I was dressed in nothing but a white linen dress, which swirled around my hips. The first drops of rain trickled down my pale cheeks. The wind grew stronger by the second, howling like an ancient spirit.

Breathe and open your eyes! My body screamed at me, but I wasn´t listening. Everything felt too much, when suddenly something soft brushed my thigh and the world stopped spinning for a moment. The gentle thuds of paws and a faint squeak could be heard. Slowly, I opened my eyes, only to be met with a fox sitting a few steps away. His thick, orange fur swirled in the breeze and his big, smoky eyes glistened with curiosity. He certainly was adorable with his black socks and the fluffy fur, his ears twitching. Squeaking again, he started running away from me. My body began to wake up, my feet stepping forward on their own.

I followed the little creature through the forest, trying not to loose him. Water splashed onto my legs, as I ran through some puddles. Fern leaves got stuck on my dress. The world around me, began to blur into a stream of pastel colours. A chaos of moss and olive-green leaves. Of grey sky and dark raindrops. Mixed with the scent of petrichor. The fox then slowed down and hid in a dark, narrow tunnel, waiting for me to follow. I took a few steps and stood at the entrance. My hand darted towards the shadows, but before I could to step into them, they consumed me. Suffocated me. Stole my air. My vision. And then slowly sunk into my very being…

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Sunrays shone down on my face. They tickled a bit and I scrunched my nose. A fresh breeze blew through the open windows and filled the room. The fine silver curtains swayed. I pulled the covers over my head, not wanting to stay up. But the birds chirping outside had other plans, so I kicked off the covers and got up.

As I was getting into a pair of black trousers and a bell-sleeved top, the entire house trembled beneath my feet. The birds were startled and fluttered away. What was going on? 

I quickly threw on some shoes and almost ran out of the room. Perhaps it was an earthquake? Hopefully nothing too serious. 

Moments like this made me wish I had inherited my father's wings.    

Hurrying down a long corridor, I made a sharp right turn and nearly stumbled down a flight of stairs. As I was about to pass another staircase, a certain darkness caught my eye. It spilled out from under a double door, which was decorated with intricate silver carvings. 

The conference room. 

Oh, yes. My mother had told me, that there would be a meeting with the other High Lords in the morning to discuss some new arrangements regarding the import of certain materials into the other courts and the continent. It didn't appear to be going well. 

An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. As I walked towards the door, a low growl reverberated through the walls. Father. 

„Rhys, let us talk about..“ My mother was cut off. „No! I demand to hear it from him! Who is it?“ His sombre voice was full of wrath. What could´ve possibly made him so upset? 

I stepped closer, not sure if I should knock and disturb them. You could literally feel the tension.

„Rhysand, this is a business council. We´re here to discuss other matters.“ I believed, that was Lord Thesan´s voice speaking. A pregnant pause followed. I could almost see my father glaring at him. „Y/n. It's Y/n.“ I couldn't identify the voice. Someone was gasping for air and mumbled something incomprehensible. After that, no one dared to say another word. 

Why were they talking about me? What was going on in there?

„You are not worthy of her.“ He practically spat out the word. My father´s sudden change of demeanour sent a shiver down my spine. „That decision is not yours to make.“ Heavy footsteps echoed across the room. „Call off your dog, Rhysand.“, Cassian snarled as he was addressed like that. „No need for hostility.“, the voice sounded as nonchalant as it could be.

Eris. 

The darkness around my feet grew thicker. With no clue what had gotten into me, I grabbed the door handle and entered the council room. Not a single person noticed me. Just as I was about to close the door and step into whatever situation awaited me, glass shattered on the wooden floor.

„She is my daughter. You are not entitled to her!“ I could do nothing but watch the scene unfold. „Rhys, you don´t understand. Y/n is my mate. You can´t keep her away from me.“ The air was practically charged with lightning. A tingling sensation, that… 

Wait what?…What did he just say?… I´m his.. his mate?

The room seemed too small now. Time stood still. Even the dust in the air had stopped moving. I inhaled sharply. My thoughts were racing. Pieces of memories flashed my mind.

Last night on the balcony. 

His cheeky grin. 

Mor, a dancing flash of red. 

Stars sparkling above our heads.

A full moon shining as bright as ever.

My parents holding each others hands.

The stories Eris had told me about his childhood. 

I must´ve heard this incorrectly. We hadn't even met each other until yesterday. But now it made sense, why he acted so.. so vulnerable in my presence. I was his mate. He was my mate. I had a mate. This one sentence repeatedly ran through my mind. 

Unconsciously, my foot took a step back at the realisation and one of the planks creaked awkwardly. As if slow motion, all faces turned to me. 

„Darling, I´m so sorry. This wasn´t meant for your...“, my father stuttered, but I couldn´t hear him anymore. His Apology ended in a swirl of pure silence. All I could do was stare at him. Eris. And he looked at me. Straight into my eyes with a shocked expression on his face. „Y/n, I..“, he tried to step forward but Cass stopped him immediately. Someone then gently grabbed my arm and pulled me along. Away from this moment, that just put my entire life upside down. A familiar scent flooded my nose and golden brown hair waved in my vision. The last thing I remember, was the doors closing behind me, as my mother winnowed us to the living room.

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@tele86 @circe143 @impossibelle @st4r-girl-official @cherry-cin

[inmyfxith]

Blessed Union

Pairing: Neteyam x human!reader

Summary: Neteyam and you are in a serious relationship, but Neytiri and Jake believe your inability to procreate makes it impossible. Eywa sees your love and blesses you with a spiritual pregnancy.

A/N: Neteyam and you are around 20.

Warnings: None

Words: 3k3

-> Requested

Pandora was a remarkable place, not only because of its breathtaking biodiversity, but also because of the beings that inhabited this distant moon from your birthplace. In just a few short years, your human existence had completely changed. You had gone from a human lost in a wonderland to the potential future partner of the leader of a recognized clan.

Sitting on top of a hill, you watched the sunrise. The sky was painted with shades of pink and orange, and the clouds seemed to glow with the rising sun. A feeling of peace suddenly washed over you as you enjoyed the beauty of the landscape. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, letting the cool morning air fill your lungs and the first rays of the sun warm your skin.

When your eyes opened again, the sun was already above the horizon, casting its scorching glow over the forest. You sat there for a while, simply enjoying the solitude and peacefulness. It was a moment of pure beauty and serenity. A shadow passed through the sky so quickly that it took you a few minutes to realize that it was Neteyam's ikran floating in the air to join you.

“You look so handsome up there,” you called out to him as he gracefully landed next to you. Neteyam's smile was nothing short of infectious as he came to sit next to you.

“Thank you, my love,” he said, leaning in to plant a kiss on the top of your head, your face being inaccessible due to your exopack. You felt your cheeks flush and a warmth spread through your body. Moments like these always reminded you of how lucky you were to have Neteyam in your life. He was not only physically attractive, but also kind and loving, and your love was special.

As tradition dictated in his clan, upon the death of his father, Neteyam would become the new Olo'ektan, the leader of his clan, and you knew he was working hard to live up to his father's greatness.

“My love,” he began, “we’ve been together for long and I can’t imagine going through this journey without you by my side.” Neteyam took your tiny hand into his. “You have been a constant source of strength and support for me, and I know that you would be an amazing tsahik.”

Your heart filled with pride and joy as you listened to his words. Your hands found their way to his cheeks and your thumbs caressed his soft, blue skin. “I promise to do my best to live up to your efforts. I am proud of you, Neteyam, and so honored to be able to stand by your side,” you said. The young man leaned in to place another kiss on the top of your head, his eyes shining with love and determination.

Together, you remained there for a moment, enjoying the moment, knowing that your love was strong enough to weather any storm.

As a human, it had taken you some time to adapt to Neteyam's clan. Due to the actions of your kin, many Na'vi had been hostile to your presence in the High Camp, and you often had to endure disguised criticism or whispered conversations in a language you were not yet fully familiar with. Over time, tensions had eased somewhat, it was still too early to talk about trust, but the Omaticaya were now more affable towards you. Bringing fruits and other herbs collected on the way to the laboratory to the family of your beloved, your run was however stopped when you heard voices rise from the hut of the current Olo'ektan, Jake Sully, Neteyam's father. According to what you could perceive, Jake was in the company of his wife, Neytiri. Not wanting to disturb them, you simply waited near the hut, becoming an involuntary witness to their conversation.

“We must do something, Jake,” Neytiri began, her voice full of concern, “It seems clear that Neteyam's mate is not able to bear children. As the future Olo'ektan, it is his duty to produce offspring for the clan. With her around, our future is in danger.”

“I understand your concern, talking to them will probably not be a viable solution. They seem to love each other deeply, and it would be unfair to end their love in the name of tradition. Maybe we could find a way to...convince him to let go of this relationship and choose a mate who can fulfill his duties as a leader,” Jake replied. His mate sighed, pacing around the hut.

“I know you're right, but what other options do we have? I don't like the thought of causing Neteyam pain, but you're right. The needs of the tribe must come first. We'll have to find a way to gently persuade him to see reason."

Understanding the terms of the conversation taking place under the tent, your heart tightened. The basket filled with fruit that you held in your hands hit the ground, spilling its contents on the ground of the camp. Without a word, you ran out of the Omaticaya's cave, tears rolling down your cheeks as you delved into the forest. You couldn't bear the thought of losing Neteyam and everything you had built together. Your foot hit a root, causing you to fall to your knees. Holding your head in your hands, you hadn't realized that the Tree of Voices was now rising in front of you.

Minutes passed without you being able to stop crying. A hand rested on your shoulder, and without even looking up, you knew that Neteyam had arrived.

"Y/N, what's wrong?”

“I-I heard your parents talking,” you choked out, your voice shaking with emotion. “You need a mate who can have children, and I can’t do that. I-I just don’t want to lose you.”

Neteyam knelt down beside you, taking your small body in his arms and offering you all the comfort you needed. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “I don't care about having children. I just want to be with you. You're the only one that matters to me.” You sniffled and looked up at him, your eyes filled with gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him before burying your face in his chest again. He held you tightly, as if to prove to you that no one could ever stand between him and the woman he loved. As you gradually regained your senses, sitting on Neteyam's lap with your face against his chest, you quietly meditated, trying to erase from your mind what you had heard.

“Y/N, open your eyes,” Neteyam whispered to you again. When you did, dozens of woodsprites were floating in the air, surrounding Neteyam and you. Admiring the spectacle that the goddess Eywa was offering you, you extended your hand, palm up, and a woodsprite landed on it.

“It seems I'm not the only one who has chosen you.” Neteyam smiled slightly, happy to see that the pure and sacred spirits were on your side.

The next few days passed without much trouble. You continued to meet Neteyam at the top of your hill every morning, as a little ritual before starting the day. As a natural reaction to what you had heard, your behavior towards Neteyam's parents became colder, more distant. You were still polite and relatively friendly, but nothing more.

However, as time passed, a singular tiredness began to consume you slowly. No matter how much sleep you gave yourself, you felt continually down. This situation worried your mother, who, despite being a doctor, had no expertise in human medicine. She kept a close eye on you, putting her hand on your forehead to monitor your temperature, but your condition seemed to be getting worse by the day.

Your fatigue was soon followed by weight loss, your cheeks gradually hollowing out, your bones becoming more visible without any clear explanation for your sudden condition. Neteyam was not fooled either, he was also worried to see you in this state and had repeatedly offered to speak to his grandmother, Mo'at, who knew the flowers and herbs of Pandora better than anyone else and whose knowledge was equal to that of the greatest Olo'ektan of the Tawkami clan. But you always refused, not wanting to give Jake and Neytiri another argument to chase you away.

One morning, as the sun was about to emerge from the horizon, you tried to climb to the top of your hill to meet Neteyam who was about to land on his ikran. But as you climbed the steep path, your legs began to feel heavy and your already diminished energy flew away like a feather in the wind. You tried to keep going, determined to reach the top, to see Neteyam, but, exhausted, you ended up stumbling down the path in the opposite direction. Just as you were about to pass out, a voice called out to you softly. Neteyam had run to you after seeing you from the sky, his facial expression reflecting the immense concern he felt.

You were thin and fragile, your skin pale and clammy. Neteyam led you back to his camp, to his grandmother's hut, hoping it wasn't too late to help you.

As he approached the hut, he saw Jake Sully standing outside, a worried look on his face. "What happened?" Jake asked as Neteyam approached.

"I found her on the hill," Neteyam replied, his voice heavy with concern. "She's sick and in pain. I think she broke something."

Mo'at sat quietly by your side, her eyes closed in concentration as she prayed to Eywa for the health and safety of her patient. She had prepared a number of herbal concoctions to help strengthen your body and boost your immune system, and she carefully administered them one by one.

Neteyam stood nervously by your side, watching as Mo'at worked. He had tried to speak to his father about your condition, but Jake had been too consumed with the preparations for the ceremony to pay much attention. Neteyam was worried about you, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was not right.

As the day passed and the sun began to set, Mo'at placed a gentle hand on your belly. She frowned, feeling something unsettling beneath her fingertips. She turned to Neteyam with a grave expression.

"Neteyam," she said, her voice heavy with concern. "Your mate is with child."

Neteyam's eyes widened in shock. "A child?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mo'at nodded gravely. "It is early yet, and it is small. But it is there, and it is growing."

Neteyam's mind raced as he tried to process this information. He had always known that you were not as strong as the Na'vi, and he had worried about your ability to survive. But a child? He had never even considered the possibility.

As he stood there, trying to come to terms with this revelation, Mo'at placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Do not worry," she said softly. "Eywa will guide us and protect your mate and your child. We will do everything we can to ensure their safety and well-being."

Neteyam nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over him at Mo'at's words. How could his mate be with child? They had never made love, and he couldn't fathom any other possibility.

As he sat lost in thought, his mind raced with possibilities. He immediately went back to the night under the Tree of Voices, when the woodsprites had surrounded them. Could that have had something to do with your sudden pregnancy?

Because of the complex and unprecedented nature of the child's conception, Mo'at insisted on keeping you under observation in her hut. At the time, when she told you that a child was growing in your belly, you didn't believe her, thinking that your mind was playing tricks on you. However, as the days passed and your belly grew, the news became more and more real.

Your mother was not happy about this news and when she came to exchange your exopack with another one, she was shocked by your situation. She entered under the hut, her face distorted by anger. "What does this mean? My daughter is pregnant and you're standing there watching calmly," she shouted at Neteyam who was standing beside you.

Neteyam raised her hands in a gesture of peace. "I understand that you are upset, but try to understand that it was not intentional. We never...I am just as confused as you are about how this happened."

Your mother's expression softened as she turned to you. "Are you sure you're pregnant?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. You nodded, tears streaming down your face.

"I don't know how it happened either, but I'm sure I'm carrying a child."

Mo'at, who was quietly preparing herbal concoctions in a corner of the hut, spoke up. "It is possible that the child was conceived under the tree of voices. The woodsprites are known to bless couples who pray to Eywa under its branches."

Your mother let out a sigh of frustration. "This is all so confusing. I just want what's best for my daughter."

Neteyam stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "I also want what's best for her. I will do everything in my power to keep her and the child safe and happy."

Your mother looked at Neteyam with a mixture of anger and gratitude. "I hope you mean that," she said before turning to leave the hut. Neteyam watched her leave before turning back to you and taking your hand in his.

This pregnancy was rapid, in just three months your belly had swollen so much that you could hardly move without the help of another person. Thanks to Mo'at's care, your fatigue had decreased and your physical condition had clearly improved so much that she allowed you to escape her surveillance for an evening.

With Neteyam, you had not gone very far for fear of not being able to return. You had simply settled in the heights of the camp, together, far from prying eyes. Your heavily pregnant belly sticking out in front of her, Neteyam was sitting beside you, his hand gently resting on the roundness of your belly as he spoke softly to the baby growing within you.

"You are my little miracle, my son," he whispered, his eyes filled with love and wonder. "I will do everything in my power to protect you and your mother. You are both the most precious things in the world to me."

You smiled up at Neteyam, your hand covering his as you both felt your baby's movements. “I can’t believe how much he has grown,” he said, his voice filled with wonder. “I can feel him kicking and moving inside you. It’s like he’s already a part of us.”

“I can’t wait to meet him,” you answered softly. “I know he’s going to be strong and brave, just like his father.”

Neteyam leaned down and kissed your forehead, his eyes full of love. “I promise to always be there for him, to protect him and guide him. He will always be my greatest treasure.”

Your heart swelled with love, and tears welled in your eyes, as you listened to Neteyam’s words. You knew without a doubt that he would be a devoted and loving father to your child.

As the moments ticked by, Neteyam and you lay together in peaceful silence, your love for each other and your unborn child filling the air around you.

-----

Neteyam paced outside of Mo'at's hut, his heart racing with anxiety. He couldn't bear to hear the sound of your screams echoing through the air. Every time you cried out in pain, his heart seemed to stop. Jake, who had been standing beside him, placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "It's going to be alright, son. Your grandmother knows what she's doing."

But Neteyam couldn't shake the feeling of dread that seemed to be settling in his chest. He couldn't imagine life without you, and the thought of losing you during childbirth was almost too much to bear. Finally, the screams stopped, and Neteyam froze. For a moment, he couldn't move, couldn't speak. He was certain that his worst fears had come true.

But then Mo'at appeared in the doorway, a wide smile on her face. "You have a son, Neteyam. A strong, healthy son."

Neteyam walked into Mo'at's hut, his heart racing with excitement and nerves. As he approached the bed, he saw you, covered in sweat and tears, holding a tiny bundle in your arms. He rushed to your side, taking your hand in his own.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice shaking with emotion.

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you smiled up at him. "We have a son," you whispered.

Neteyam's heart swelled with love and pride as he looked down at the small, blue-skinned baby nestled in your arms. He had a head full of jet-black hair, and big, bright eyes that seemed to take in everything around him. His tiny fingers were wrapped around your thumb, holding on tight.

Neteyam reached out a hand, gently brushing his son's fingers open so he could stroke his soft skin. "He's beautiful," he whispered, tears welling up in his own eyes.

You smiled at him, your own tears of joy and exhaustion mixing together. "He looks just like his father. He's our little miracle,” you said softly.

Neteyam leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, then to the top of his son's head. He knew that from that moment on, everything in his life would revolve around these two people, and he couldn't wait to spend the rest of his days loving and protecting them.

-----

Neteyam stood behind his son, his strong arms wrapped around the small child as he gently guided his hands on the bow. A sense of pride and nostalgia was swelling in his chest. He remembered the day his own father had first taught him how to hold a bow, the weight of it in his hands feeling like a rite of passage. The five year old looked up at his father with wide, curious eyes, taking in every movement and instruction with eagerness.

"That's it, my little hunter," Neteyam said with a soft smile. "Just like that. Now, let's see if you can hit the target."

The little boy nodded determinedly and focused on the distant target, taking a deep breath before releasing the arrow. It flew straight and true, hitting the center of the target with a satisfying thud.

Neteyam beamed with pride as he lifted his son off the ground, swinging him around in a joyful embrace. "Well done, son! You have the makings of a great hunter."

As they practiced together, the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the clearing. Neteyam couldn't help but sneak glances at you, who were watching them with a soft smile on your face. He knew that you were just as proud of your son as he was, and it warmed his heart.

As they wrapped up their lesson for the day, Neteyam lifted his son into his arms, giving him a warm embrace.

"I'm so proud of you, my little warrior," he whispered, planting a gentle kiss on his son's forehead.

The little boy giggled and snuggled closer, and Neteyam knew that this was exactly where he was meant to be - with his family, surrounded by love and joy.

[meowhara]

࿐.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒃𝒚𝒔𝒔 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑨𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒆

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ miguel o’hara x fem siren!reader

cw : blood and gore (not much but still)

synopsys : miguel's residence was a unique one, though nobody knew the existence of a deadly being inhabiting beneath it

It was always the same question whenever anyone visited his house. They’re always wondering why it was built like that. Some parts of his house where the tiles should be, were replaced by thick glasses. Clear enough to see the deep blue water underneath. His house was practically built over a gigantic man made body of water. It wasn’t an empty body of water either, there was life thriving underneath. The variety of fishes no matter what sizes or kind live there with coral reefs and underwater plants for the aquatic creatures to live in. Making a whole complete living underwater ecosystem.

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t understand what?” Miguel huffed, his back facing the man that considered him a friend just because they met back in college.

“You. Look at this place.”

“Was that supposed to be an insult?” He popped open a bottle of fine alcohol and poured a glass for himself, then leaned on the kitchen’s counter before taking a sip.

“No… Not really.” The man reverts his gaze to the wide window behind Miguel. The marine life beyond that window was just stunning. For somebody like Miguel, having this kind of lifestyle wouldn’t be anyone’s first guess.

Miguel rolled his eyes from his reply, walking off from the counter with his drink before walking upstairs. “Would you mind leaving? I’m busy.” He scowled.

“Why? Are you hiding something?”

Miguel’s eyes twitched, isn’t he just polite?

He set himself down on a couch in the middle of the room. The living room was a unique one. There’s a spot where the tiles are supposed to be, left absent and empty. Leaving a literal two rectangular pool connected to each other’s ends, with a wide angle where an “L” shaped marine blue sofa that stretches for at least three meters long on both of its sides. A coffee table made out of thin marble with an oval shape in the center which was also in blue, decorated with gold lining.

The pool, oddly, is a wide one. It was made so that a whole human could slip through it, rather than for decorational purposes. Nobody really pointed it out in the past though, it seems to be a normal thing for anyone to have in their home if they had the money for it. Most people would drown from how deep the pool is if they're not careful. The bottom of the pool was out of the question from how deep it was intentionally made.

The ceiling was high above with water flowing down, forming a thin wall made out of water. Flowing down onto the same pool in the middle of the room. Tall windows on one end of the house, showcasing the breathtaking beauty of Nueva York, especially at night.

His eyes focused on the ill-mannered man he barely knows. Watching each one of his moves carefully.

“Don’t you have a Girlfriend?”

“Broke up.” He answered quickly as the man stood before him after he finished strolling around uninvitedly.

“How did you get your hands on these types of creatures anyway? I’ve never even seen some of the fishes you have swimming around underneath these tiles.” He tapped his feet onto the transparent material underneath his feet. The fishes swam away from the loud thumping noises of his feet.

“I have my own way.” He spoke before taking another sip.

“Illegal?”

“No.” After a long pause, he continues, “Would you mind doing me a favor?” Miguel added.

“What favor?”

“Taking a few steps away?”

“What? Why?”

He shrugged, “Personal space.”

“Geez.” Unsuspectingly, he took a few steps back until his feet were almost touching the edge of the floating platform.

A low whistle escapes Miguel’s mouth seconds before a creature with high speed emerges from underneath the water. Slamming the unsuspecting man into the ground, knocking air out of his lungs. He felt its sharp fangs digging into his flesh with the creature’s weight pushing him forcefully onto the ground. A creature with a human-like body and a massive fin instead of legs hisses their sharp fangs at him, their hair long with water dripping down. Its eyes are as dangerous as the dark mysterious sea, ready to devour him at any second. The man’s eyes widened in sheer panic as he tried to push whatever it was away.

A smile plastered across the host’s face. Calmly sipping all the remaining wine into his system with his back relaxing against his seat. The man screamed, fighting for his life. He even begged for Miguel to save him. But he was too busy watching your beautiful form ripping flesh out of your prey’s body with your mouth. Watching his pet feasting on her favorite meal of the day. His screams died down eventually. The scene was a complete mess, chunks of meat everywhere with a mixture of blood and water splattered across the floor.

Miguel set the empty glass in his hand down before standing up and closing the distance between the both of you slowly. When you saw him approaching you and your meal, you hissed at him.

“Easy there, cupcake.” He scoffed, “I’m not going to steal him away.”

He stood there as you possessively dragged the remaining of your meal back into the pool. Drowning it with you. “That brat.” The word came out from his mouth followed by a chuckle and a shake of his head.

“Lyla, clean this shit up for me.” He commanded the programmed woman.

“You're spoiling her Miguel.” She complained, her hollow body flickering in the dim lit room.

“I'm not. My baby got what she deserves.”

This has been going on for a pretty long time. People disappeared after entering his home, especially the uninvited ones. Although, there are some exceptions. There is someone that loves crashing into his place.

“How many times did I tell you to stop coming here?” His arms crossed over his chest as he scolded the only person that would leave his abode unharmed.

“It's not my fault you made this place very interesting.”

“That was not a reason for you to keep coming here every time I went to work.”

“Aww, don't brothers share?” Gabriel teased.

“I hate you.” Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“I won't be coming here ever again.”

Miguel raised his eyebrow, unamused by his little brother's promise.

“I won't be coming here ever again, if you let me have a party here.”

“No.” He didn't even think before the answer left his mouth.

“Then I'll pester you until the end of my life.”

“Go on then. I would rather you bother me rather than inviting people here.”

“Come on, my friends would love this place.”

Miguel's eyes were not focused on him after he saw a glimpse of your eyes inside the pool from where he's standing. He saw the hunger in your eyes upon looking at his brother, a tasty meal for your kind. He knew this would happen that's why he never invited anyone over except for your feeding time every once in a while.

But there's no way he would let you feast on his own family, he shook his head with a serious look on his face. He knew that you would listen to him either way, so he sighed as he watched you disappeared before his eyes.

“If you still want to live, leave.” Miguel spoke with a firm tone in his voice.

“But—”

“I said no to your stupid party and that's final. Leave before I told Lyla to never let you in here ever again.”

“You would ban me from coming here just because of this?”

“Gabriel.” He warned, insisted on letting him stay and telling him the reason why was never the best move to pull no matter what the situation is. Miguel watches as he leaves, listening to his brother swearing under his breath before the door shut by itself. The sound of small waves of water followed by ripples of water made Miguel turn his body to look at your head peeking out of the pool with a frown evident on your face. Breaking his heart from how sad you look after not getting what you wanted, he hates disappointing you.

Your eyes were fixed on the door, hoping your walking food would come back. “I know baby, I know. I'm sorry, okay? But you can't eat him.” He lowers himself to touch your face, gently caressing your cheek. You keep your head fixed on the door without hissing at Miguel. Human language is a foreign one to your ears, you can't understand anything, just a few basic words. Miguel was fully aware of this so he repeated himself. The certain word will always taste bitter to his mouth when it comes to pleasing you. “No baby, you can't eat him.”

Your frown worsens from the word ‘no’. You're not sure what it means, all you understand is that every time the word escapes his mouth, he won't let you get what you desire. “I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise.”

After that, he fed you even more men to satisfy your hunger. Their bodies sunk into the abyss of water where the monster he fell in love with abode.

[moonselune]

Would you ever consider doing an Astarion/f!reader/Gale love triangle Drabble or one shot? (Astarion endgame maybe oop?) if not dw!!!!✨

This is tooth rottingly sweet, I was a bit unsure about this one because my immediate instinct when there's a love triangle is to just let them all kiss lmao

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion x f!reader x Gale

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The camp was a place of tension, not just because of the ever-present threats lurking in the shadows, but also because of the complicated dynamics between its members. Amidst the flickering campfires and whispered conversations, a love triangle had quietly taken root, drawing you, Astarion, and Gale into its tangled web.

Gale had always been the romantic, the one to sweep you off your feet with his eloquence and charm. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, he approached you with a gentle smile, his eyes twinkling with the promise of magic and wonder.

“May I have a moment of your time?” he asked, his voice as smooth as silk.

You nodded, curiosity piqued. Gale led you to a secluded spot by the river, where he conjured a shimmering illusion of stars and galaxies swirling above you. The sight was breathtaking, each twinkling light reflecting in his eyes as he recited a poem he had written just for you.

His words were like honey, sweet and mesmerizing. You felt yourself being drawn into the enchantment of the moment, the magic he wielded wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Gale’s ability to captivate and awe was unparalleled, and for a time, you were lost in the beauty of his world.

Astarion watched from a distance, his keen eyes taking in every detail. He had to admit, Gale was a formidable rival. The way he could charm with his words and dazzle with his magic was impressive. But Astarion knew that sweet words and illusions would not be enough to win your heart; he needed to show you something raw, something real. And it wasn't just because he had already played that card with you - definitely not.

The next day, as the group ventured out to face a band of marauding gnolls, Astarion saw his opportunity. The battle was fierce, with gnashing teeth and snarling beasts lunging at every turn. But Astarion was relentless, his movements swift and precise as he cut through the enemies with lethal grace.

He fought with a ferocity that took even the gnolls by surprise, his eyes never straying far from you. With each foe he felled, he moved closer, his intention clear. When the last of the gnolls lay defeated, their bodies formed an unintentional pattern on the ground—a shape that, with a bit of imagination, resembled a heart.

Breathing heavily, Astarion approached you, his expression softening as he took your hand. He pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks to you.”

Astarion’s lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes were serious. “I’d fight a thousand battles if it meant keeping you safe.”

As he led you back to camp, his hand never leaving yours, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his words. There was something undeniably real about the way he cared for you, something that went beyond mere words and magic.

Back at the camp, Gale watched your return with a resigned smile. He approached the two of you, his demeanor calm and gracious. “Astarion,” he began, his tone respectful, “I have to give credit where it’s due. Your bravery and skill today were remarkable.”

Astarion inclined his head, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Thank you, Gale.”

Gale turned to you, his expression gentle but resolute. “I can see where your heart lies, and I respect your choice. It seems Astarion is the one who truly holds your affections.”

You looked between the two men, feeling a swell of gratitude and affection for both. “Gale, you’ve been wonderful,” you said softly. “Your kindness and your magic have touched me deeply, I will never forget it.”

Gale smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I’m glad I could share those moments with you. But I think it’s clear who your heart belongs to.”

With that, he stepped back, conceding with grace. Astarion pulled you closer, his eyes shining with a mix of triumph and tenderness. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “You’re mine, and I intend to cherish you every day.”

And in that moment, you knew that despite the complexities and the rivalries, you had found something genuine and profound in Astarion’s love—a love that would stand the test of time and adversity.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Poor Gale, maybe he should have mentioned his practiced tongue a bit more, hope you liked it! - Seluney

[speckles-of-stardust]

never judge a book by its cover

leo valdez x gn!reader

summary: leo assumes that your godly parent is aphrodite. (alt: leo finds you beautiful.)

notes: the reader’s godly parent isn’t specified, but it isn’t aphrodite

also, this is my first (and probably last) fic post and its dedicated to the one and only supersized mcshizzle❤️❤️❤️

—

“son of hephaestus, huh?” you said as you toured leo through camp half-blood. “we haven’t had one since— since their counselor died in the war last summer.”

“oh.”

“it’s okay. everything’s fine now,” you assured him. “anyway, i think hephaestus kids are awesome. they have all these cool weapons and devices that can pretty much do anything. and of course, very useful against all the monsters.”

you mentioned the monsters if it was a normal occurence, which made leo a bit nervous. monsters? people actually had to fight some things worse than the storm spirits?

you passed a cabin that was fully pink, with flowers growing at the window sills and the smell of perfume filled leo’s lungs.

“cabin ten,” you told him. “aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty.”

when you finished your sentence, leo noticed the girls and guys coming in and out of the cabin were hella good-looking. he found himself involuntarily inching closer and closer to the pink cabin until you snapped your fingers near his ear.

“next cabin,” you said when he came to his senses, but you looked a little amused at him.

“so, your mom’s aphrodite?” leo asked you as you walked.

you frowned at him. “no, she’s not.”

“oh.”

leo assumed that every person who looked good was a child of aphrodite, with her being the goddess of beauty and such. and, he couldn’t help but be aware of this, you were absolutely breathtaking.

you were smirking now. “why’d you assume that i’m an aphrodite kid?”

—

[not-your-fucking-kacchan]

♡︎𝐏𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐈𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐮 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚♡︎

Day 12 of Kinktober 2022

Summary: you finally get to peg your boyfriend, Izuku.

Props to my beta reader for today @sasualblxd thank you for your amazing help bae!

497 words.

Izuku never would've thought that he would like this sort of thing. That was, at least, until he met you.

From the very first time he saw you he had been obsessed. You were perfect. You were funny, and kind, and had an absolutely magnificent body no matter how much you denied it.

It wasn't until later on, when he got to see a darker side of you, that he realised what he wanted most. Sure, you were nice, but you were also commanding and very protective. He felt safe around you. Even when you would bark and bite just like Katsuki just to protect him.

It took a while for him to fully understand it himself, but eventually he came to a conclusion. Izuku wanted to be dominated by you.

The first time the thought appeared, the poor, flustered boy was mortified, swatting away the thought bubble madly in fear that you could see all of the dirty imagery that had suddenly appeared in his mind. However, after many months of denial and embarrassment, he finally caved and admitted his thoughts. It was the single cutest sight you have ever experienced. Almost as cute as right now.

Almost as cute as the pink, freckled cheeks, decorated with dewy tear tracks that lay beneath you. His pupils are blown and trained only on you as he experiences mind-numbing pleasure that he's never come close to alone.

Green hair is splayed out on the pillow like a halo, damp with sweat and stray tears. He looks thoroughly fucked out.

In this moment, your hips stop moving, pausing mid-thrust for you to fully focus on the sight in front of you. You're currently in the missionary position, with him beneath you, so everything is exposed and Izuku is given no option to hide, allowing you the sight of his plump, sturdy chest. There are freckles there, too, and in the night you like to trail your finger over the darkest ones, like each is a precious constellation newly discovered.

"Wha- Huh?..."

How precious. He can't even get a real word out, mouth dry and voice worn as a result of two hours spent crying from pleasure. It's fair enough, your thighs are starting to hurt by now.

A pretty, manicured hand rests on Izuku's cheek to stroke it with the soft pad of your thumb, and in an instant your hips snap forwards, drawing out a delicious cry from your baby boy, and lighting a fire in your chest in excitement. His mouth is open and a line of spit connects his upper and lower teeth when you start to fuck into him again, pace slow. He almost can't take it, and at the feeling of being stretched out over your plastic cock he has another breathtaking orgasm, splattering his belly in white while deprived lungs fight for air again.

You could do this every day just to see him cry on your cock but you're lucky enough already.

© 2022 not-your-fucking-kacchan

◃ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 ▹

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

Since you're doing requests, can you write for Hero is Back? Maybe "Boyfriend Material"? (Assuming the master list is a prompt list)

HiB!Wukong: Boyfriend Material.

Word Count: 1236

Rating: T for some language. Fluffy.

Content/Trigger Warnings: N/A.

Authors Notes: Not a prompt list, but if someone (like yourself) requests based on one listed, I'm taking it as a sign to finally get it done. :3 Also, thank you for being my first HiB requested. 🥺🥺🥺

Hope you enjoy!

Honestly… he has no idea what he's doing with you 98% of the time. He doesn't even know how he managed to get you in the first place! However… You're his world. His reason for living, his everything. Make no mistake about how crazy he is about you or what he’s willing to do to keep you happy; so know that he’s trying his best.

He has absolutely no idea what he’s doing, so you have to be patient with him and help guide him. He’s got street smarts, but he’s lacking in the book smarts and feelings department. Like most men, he’s clueless as to what you want, he’s a warrior after all, he’s not used to being… loved. He’s used to being misunderstood, so you have to be patient with the poor monkey boy.

He may be clueless about your advances at times, but make no mistake, he isn't the same with other men. He notices when others are interested in you and is ready to throw hands if someone doesn't leave you alone, especially if they decide to get handsy. He's your warrior, your protector whether you need it or not, and he takes that job very seriously. 

Even if you can defend yourself with his strict teachings, he wants to be your first line of defence against the enemy. If you get even a scratch, he’ll be pouty and grouchy the entire time after… but be careful, he may just be doing it so he can get your affection and reassurance. 

“Wukong, are you sure this is the right way?” you question him as he guides you through the thick forest.

“Stop whining, we’re almost there,” he told you for what would have to be the tenth time in seventeen minutes.

“If you tell me where we’re going, then I won't be so pestering,” you shot back at him. 

“No, we both know that’s a lie,”

“Please?” you looked up at him, but he held the top of your head and positioned your head forward again. “Wukong,” you whined.

“Quit whining, or I’ll change my mind,”

“Change your mind on what?!” you were getting frustrated, the anticipation was eating you alive from the inside out, but his lips remained shut about where he was taking you.

When you saw it, your breath was knocked out of your lungs. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen: the breathtaking view, a picnic set up for two, and the stars peeking in with the setting sun. 

“You did all this?” you looked up at him, but he refused to look at you and instead walked over to the mat and sat down. He looked up at you and held out his long arm for you, staring at you with those adoring eyes you loved so much.

“Are you coming or what? The food will spoil,” he teased, which snapped you out of whatever trance you were previously in. You walked over to him and sat down beside him with a grin on your face as he wrapped an arm around you. 

“I still can't believe you did all of this for me,” 

“Hm,” was all he stubbornly responded, but his flustered face told you a lot.

“You're so sweet,” you smiled as you leaned against his side and looked at the spread… that's when you noticed something… the food was poorly wrapped but somehow holding together. 

“Wow…” 

“What?” he asked as he looked down at you nervously.

“It's just… this is a lot of food,” you smiled up at him. “And you made these all by yourself?”

“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his head. “You've been stressed lately, so I wanted to-”

“I've been stressed? Have you met yourself?” you laughed a bit before you tackled him in a hug. “You're the Great Sage, and I’m the one who’s stressed?” you looked over his features with a small smile. 

“Well, you have,” he smiled a bit as he shifted a bit to be comfortable with you on him. “I was worried.”

“Now you know how I feel every single day with a boyfriend like you,” you shot back and snuggled into his chest. He smelled so good and his fur was super soft. “Did you condition?”

“Thank you for noticing,”

“Okay, now I know something’s up. Did I forget an anniversary?” you looked at him accusingly. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he said lazily as he rubbed your back. “Can't I surprise my girlfriend?”

The title made you feel like a giddy schoolgirl and gave you butterflies every single time. He always said it with a sense of boundless pride and smugness.

“Sure, but usually you do it to make up for something you did that I might yell at you for,” you stated, which wasn't wrong.

“Well,” he chuckled and caressed your cheek and kissed your nose softly. “Not today.”

“If you say so,” you smiled at him, melting into liquid with such affection from the typically unreadable male. 

“Do you want the food or not?” he nuzzled his nose against yours.

“Yes, please,” you smiled and watched him dish out what smelled like beef-filled dumplings. “So you made this all by yourself?”

“Yes,” he said and offered one to you. “It should be cool enough to eat by now.”

“Then feed one to me,” you teased your secret romantic.

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” he looked at you in slight annoyance, making you grin at him. 

“Quite so,” you nodded. “You've entrapped my heart, let me tease you a bit to make up for it,” you teased. 

Now that got his heart racing and brought a blush to his face. He didn't take long to submit to your request and held one of the misshapen dumplings to your lips with a pair of chopsticks. You were a bit hesitant to take a bite, but not wanting to hurt your boyfriend’s feelings, you opened your mouth and took a bite into the treat. 

The texture was much to be desired, but for his first time, it tasted amazing. The beef was fully cooked, even though the dumplings could have used a few more minutes of steaming. Wukong watched you and your reactions, studying you fully, half expecting you to gag and half expecting you to spit it out in his face.

“Could have used a few more minutes of steaming,” you said honestly. “Other than that, they're sooooo good,” you grinned up at him, which made him relax.

“Hm,” was all he said before he took a bite out of a dumpling. “It's edible,” he shrugged.

“That it is,” you grinned at him. You turned your attention to the breathtaking view of the sunset, he really outdid himself for a simple date.

“Honestly…” his voice got your attention, and you tilted your head curiously. “I just… wanted to do something nice for you, to show you that….” Gods, this was embarrassing. “That I love you… a lot.”

“Awe,” you were a giggling mess as you leaned against him. “I love you too, Wukong, so, so much.”

You both sat there in silence and at some point, he positioned you between his legs and wrapped his arms around you. You ate in silence and enjoyed the quiet outdoors together as the moonlight blessed you both with its light.  

So yeah, I think it’s safe to say he’s more than boyfriend material.

[softlymaximoff]

Unspoken Rules

18+ ONLY MEN & MINORS DNI (blank blogs will be blocked you do not have my permission to republish my work onto any platform.

A/N: consider Dark Princess Wanda my new hyper-fixation, get ready for me to be literally all over ideas with her

Summary: not one to be going against orders, the Princess was surprised to see her toy ignoring rules in plain sight. Deciding to put a stop to the behaviour, she realises the reason behind it all was a mere misunderstanding.

Characters: Dark!Princess! Wanda, Gn!Reader

Warnings: safe word use, pet play, Dom/sub dynamics, choking (if you squinttt), breath play, aftercare (?)

Word Count: 1.5k

Your new shiny leash glimmered with each step you took, Wanda had been told she had to attend another 'Kings Of Court' meeting and she wasn't about to let you out of her sight. “Here pup, kneel please" She asked easily and with a faint blush on your cheeks you knelt by her side. She had also made a custom pillow matching to your collar and with how soft it was, you couldn't help but let out a small sigh in contempt.

However, your eyes locked onto one of the many sleazy men in the kingdom as he eyed your princess up and down from his seat at the table. It was no secret that Wanda was breathtaking and completely infatuating. But it was also no secret that the two of you were each others lovers. A sharp tug on your chain leash made you almost topple into Wanda’s legs. “Sit still and focus” She held her voice low enough for you to hear weary of any onlookers. She didn’t want to embarrass you or herself. A good pet doesn’t disobey, at least not her pet.

It was another community hall meeting about further plans of protection and disagreements between kingdoms. Something Wanda was utterly bored by. As long as she was protecting you that’s all she cared about. From your place on the floor, you could just about see everything going on down there on his body. However, a flicker of silver caught your attention and you side eyed that same man who was now (from the body language you gather) resting on his elbows.

He had a knife.

Your eyes narrowed instantly and you pulled on your leash. Hard. The bold action took the Princess by surprise and she recorrected it in a swift motion. Her grip on the leash tightened and she yanked your body towards her. “Sit fucking still” she growled and you challenged her back with a scowl of your own. Now causing a scene, you huffed and looked the man dead in the eye. All he did was smirk and you were ready to lunge at him again. “Behave” she grabbed your face in one hand and the leash tight in the other. “Look at me” she searched your wandering eyes as they never settled on hers. You were clearly scared about something.

“Eyes on me pup” she stilled her voice again and this time let a few of her red wisps enter your mind. You shook your head and blocked her out sitting back down as your eyes never leaving the man’s hidden weapon. “Could you excuse us for a moment” Wanda politely excused herself from the meeting and picked you up from the floor, not bothering about making you walk. “Let me go!” You thrashed in her arms, pushing against her chest, accidentally hitting her in the face. Everything stopped. She stopped walking and you just about stopped breathing.

You had never used physical force on your princess. After a few minutes of silence, she continued walking to her room without a word. Your whole body was tense and she dismissed your silent pleas. “Wanda I’m sor-” “I didn’t say you could speak” she cut your sentence off with a sharp tone and you snapped your mouth shut. You had truly messed up. Despite being infuriated with you, she sat you down on the bed gently and walked into her custom wardrobe.

This was the first time you’d ever been punished. You didn’t know what would happen or how it would happen. You were scared and Wanda could see it, she could feel it. “Relax” she ordered softly and you made a conscious decision to control your breathing. She came back out holding a few things you dared not o look at. She dragged her eyes across your body and the action alone caused you to tense up again. “You’re okay” she mused quietly and bent down so she was face to face with you.

You watched carefully with hesitant eyes as a hand came up around your throat, eyes slipping shut for only a whisper. “Eyes on me” she guided your face with her hands and before you knew it the custom collar came loose around your neck.

What?

A whimper involuntarily echoed the room as Wanda slipped on a metal two toned chain collar around your neck. It was silver and red and held a moon and star pendant in the middle. Wanda kept quiet the whole time, only a few soft reassurances to nurse your running mind. Although she was trying, it wasn’t really taking much affect.

We’re you no longer hers? Did you mess up that bad? Was she getting rid of you for being a bad pet?

So many thoughts. Endless outcomes and answered you didn’t want to face.

You hadn’t noticed the small furrow in her brows or the way she ceased her actions to study you. You had barely heard her ask you your colour. “Colour baby” She asked again a little firmer and her voice made you jump slightly. Realistically you were orange but this was punishment for being bad so you had to be green. You had to take what ever punishment you saw fit. “Green” with a slight tone in your voice, you cast your eyes down and focused on breathing.

She was reluctant to continue but you were adamant to take what ever she gave you. She noticed the way your body was ever so slightly trembling, or the fragile gleam of sweat on your forehead. She saw the way your body was on autopilot. She felt it. You were utterly terrified. “Red” her voice was laced with concern as you shook your head. “No Princess! It’s green! I’m green I promise. I will take what you give me. I was bad! I’m sorry I was a bad pet. Please I’m green. Need to be your good pet again.” you pleaded with desperation and a hazy state of mind as you choked on your own breaths.

“Hey, hey come back to me darling where are you. Don’t fall too hard dorogaya” she attended to you in a gentle but firm manner and as much as she hated using her magic on you without you being aware; you left her no other choice. Red wisps invaded your mind and the princess was struggling to get anywhere. You were blocking her out. Self protection. Understandable. At this point you were beginning to make yourself sick. You were struggling to breathe and Wanda was etching to find new ways to calm you down.

A quick thought slipped into her mind and she brought the custom collar back up to your neck. A snap of her fingers and the chain collar was released allowing room for the scarlet collar to take its rightful place. The minute it was clipped into place, she held your face in both of her hands. Her thumb coming down delicately on the apples of your tear stained cheek. “Come back my good pet” at the gentle praise you whimpered and hunched forward into her arms, clinging onto her like she was your lifeline.

She kissed the crown of your forehead and brought you off the bed, sinking down onto the floor with her. Erratic coughs and laboured breaths escaped your lips and she gently shushed you as much as she could. “There we go that’s it my love” she sighed in relief as your painful outburst simmered into faint hiccups. “Hi baby” She searched your cloudy eyes and you merely whispered out a hello back. “What happened there huh?” She cradled your face in her hands and pressed a gentle kiss to your nose.

The fear of being in even more in trouble made you whimper and she shushed you gently. “Please love, you’re not in trouble. It’s okay” she reassured you. With a heavy sigh and a small hiccup, you mumbled out a response. “Speak up puppy girl” she ran her thumb over your cheek and so you did just that. “I thought, well, you, I thought, the collar, it changed, you changed it” you expressed yourself with scrambled words but she understood. Her eyes softened and she brought you in for a much needed hug.

“Oh my sweet one” she whispered and comforted you warmly. Her voice was soft and her actions were even softer. “You’ll always be my little one. No matter the collar. No matter the punishment. You’re stuck with me until the end of time. I’m so so so sorry I threw you in a spiral. I should have been clearer, i should have communicated before changing your collar. That’s totally my fault. I promise you my love that you are and will always be mine”. She finished with a deep kiss and you melted against her touch. Hers. You were hers. Always.

[jqmalikhsgib]

sea view

two

varitymagazine

2,000,000 Likes

varietymagazine “fame just got to my head,” styles starts. “it was all my fault. im the reason my family was almost broken.” click the link in our bio to learn more about harry styles life, music, and more!

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Harry Styles: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly! 

When we hear the name Harry Styles, most of us scream our lungs out. The ex One Direction member holds our hearts in his hands without batting an eyelash.

Harry Styles was born in Worcestershire, England February First to Anne Twist and Des Styles making Gemma Styles an older sister. Harry would describe his childhood like any other.

“I was just a normal kid, playing football in my backyard,” he states. “I’d make fun of my sister while she called me a butthead before we’d go and watch something on the telly.”

Styles opens up about being a child from divorce. “My mom and dad had problems. They’d fight here and there and Gem and I would just hold each other in one of our rooms. My parents finally decided enough was enough and separated. I was ten years old, somewhat heartbroken but ultimately relieved.”

When Harry was eleven he met the most loveliest woman he’d ever seen. She’d just moved from America with her dad and five older brothers. The moment Harry saw her, he just knew!

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off of yn. She was breathtaking. I had to get to know her!”

Harry and Yn relationship begins when they were only twelve years old. From that moment they were each others first love. Harry states he’s never felt love like the one he’s had with YN.

Harry opens up about his personal life with his wife and his kids. Including the moment they became teen parents.

“We were young and dumb. The only thing we were thinking about was each other. When she called me crying, telling me she’s pregnant, we were just about to hit fourteen. We’d just started high school and we were scared shitless. I ended up getting a job at the local bakery and our parents helped us as much as they could. When our son was born we never felt so much pride and joy. We created this tiny little human out of love. Nothing has ever made either of us feel more proud.” Styles goes on to say.

Harry then talks about his dream of being a singer. He opens up about how silly he thought it was, but how his mom, sister, and wife talked him into auditioning for the X-factor.

“If it weren’t for my family, I would have never went to that audition! My mom and sister always encouraged me to live my dream. In my head it was a given. ‘Of course they’ll say this, im their son and brother.’ I thought to myself. But YN wasn’t either, I guess it was different when I heard it from her.”

Styles smiles as he discussed how he use to sing their son [Corbin Styles] to sleep. “He’d have this huge smile on his face. Every single time he’d close his eyes, he’d fight his sleep just so he could hear me sing. That’s really when I knew, I gotta audition!”

In that moment, Harry’s life changed forever! He was apart of the biggest boyband in the world, One Direction. Being put into a group with four other boys [Liam Payne, Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan, and Zayn Malik] Harry talks about his relationship with each band member.

“Being put into a group with four different boys was difficult, sure! Of course it was exciting and love there in the beginning. We’re just five boys who had the same dream. But we’re also five boys with five different personalities, five different voices, five different views of the world, five different love stories. We bumped heads a lot, especially towards the end,” Styles states. “I think after four years of constant tour, no breaks, arguments, screaming, and barely seeing our families, we were all kinda done. At this moment I was married to YN, she was pregnant with payton, so I wanted to be there for her and both of our kids more. Louis was about to have his own baby, Liam was dealing with his own battles, Niall had family troubles, and Zayn had left the band. We were all kinda worn out. It was time we ventured out on our own and see where life would take us. In a way, it made our relationship better. Niall, Louis, and Liam are all uncles to my children. Zayn was my best friend in the band, he was named god-dad.”

We asked Harry about his first album, how it came about. “It was simple really! I’ve been writing my own music for a long time. I went to Jamaica with my wife and kids and it was lovely. I put together my own band, figured out which songs I wanted out there, and once it was ready, we set a date and even prepared for tour.” Harry smiles at the memory. Though it never reached his face.

This is when we asked him about his second album. Fine Line had been release two years after his self titled album, Harry Styles. Hearing it makes your heart break.

Harry talks about his relationship with wife. He opens up about his arrogance, ignorance, and his affair[s].

“I’m not gonna sugar coat it, I was a shit husband for a long time,” Harry tells us. “The moment we made it big, I’d get this big head and think, ‘fuck im the shit!’ so many women wanted me and would do anything to have me. I was weak and stupid. They all knew I was married with kids, I never hid that from my fans or obviously the women id sleep with.” Harry takes a deep breath. “YN and I would constantly argue. She’d cry herself to sleep at night when I didn’t come home or back to our hotel room when the boys and I were on tour. I remember when she packed her bag and left me.”

Harry wipes his tears before he continues. “It was around the last few legs of tour. I’d been sorta seeing at least two women regularly. [for privacy reasons harry didn’t mention names] She wrote me a note, stating she couldn’t do this anymore. She told me I either needed to get my shit together or she’d divorce me and get full custody. In this moment I knew, I needed to find myself again. Once tour was over, I flew to Japan, took a few friends, began the process of writing fine line, and went to therapy. I was gonna do everything in my power to get my family back together. from there, YN, me, and the kids would work on our new dynamic. I was slowly getting my family back.” Harry states.

Harry opens up about how a lot of the fans blamed YN during the time they’d been split up.

“I wanna clear this up, YN had nothing to do with our split. A lot of people assumed she’d been the one cheating or using me. She was always faithful and couldn’t care less if I had millions or pennies. She loved me for me. Fame just got to my head,” Styles starts. “It was my fault. I’m the reason my family was almost broken.”

YN has been known to be vocal to people who constantly hate on her. Harry opens up about the relationship she has with his fanbase.

“I think if you can’t respect your favorite artist relationship, you’re not a real fan. Truth is, YN is my wife. I almost lost her years ago, I’m not gonna lose her over something so petty. She’s the mother of my children and my wife. People should respect that!” Styles states. He continues to talk about her social media comments and post.

“She can do whatever she wants! I don’t control her, nor does my team! YN has always been very open when it comes to our marriage. She’s not gonna sensor herself simply because others can’t get the hint. That’s one of the many things I love about her!” Styles finished.

During our interview, Harry opens up about his next album before he leaves.

“The next albums gonna be filled with more love than anything. I think this one will be filled with dancing, smiles, and laughter. I’m really excited to share it with the world.” Harry states before he politely shakes our hands and walks over to his family.

[itsscromp]

Sonic with a kid reader who thinks he's rlly funny? I used to have laughing fits when I played sonic adventure 2 as a kid 😭

Sonic the hedgehog x reader

Ahh, my first-ever sonic request, Don't you worry anon. Shall be coming right up :D. Word count:591

Your family recently moved to Green hills as your Mom took a job their to be closer to your grandparents as well. You were really nervous, a whole new town. a new school, new people. It was a little scary to say the least.

Your dad and you were walking around town when he ran into the police chief of the town, Tom Wachowski.

"Tom ??" Your dad called out.

"D/n ?? Oh man its been way too long !!!"

"Dad... who's this man ??"

"Oh, this is my child y/n, Me and Tom used to go too the same school together when we were your age" He smiled.

"Oh cool" You perked up.

"How are you two liking green hills ??"

"So far so good, It's a nice get away from the city. Much quieter"

"Yeah I usually get that a lot" He nodded and then turned to you.

"What about you y/n, How are you liking green hills ??" He smiled softly.

You took a few steps behind your dad, Looking down at the ground.

"Oh... yeah they're a little bit shy to new people" Your dad said to him.

"No no that's fair" He then perked up at an idea about how y/n can feel a little comfortable and welcome to green hills.

"Say, Would y/n like to make a new friend, show them around green hills ??" He offered.

"What do you say y/n ??" Your dad offered, You eventually nodded as tom them picked up his phone.

Withing seconds you saw a a blur dash by before stopping in front of tom.

"Donut lord" it greeted

This little creature looked like a blue hedgehog, you and your dad were slightly baffled how tom was not unfazed by it.

"Sonic, I'd like you to meet y/n" Tom greeted this sonic to you.

"Oh hello their" He waved "The names Sonic, Sonic the hedgehog also named the blue blur trademark pending"

This caused you to smile and start to giggle.

"How about you and sonic go to the baseball field y/n, I think you two would have fun"

You nodded as you followed Sonic to the baseball field.

"I love to play baseball all the time, It's just so much fun" He was zooming past you at breathtaking speeds, before handing you a baseball bat and helmet.

He then began to run around and mimic crazy voices, playing in all the positions. which you couldn't help but laugh.

"And at the pitching line also sonic"

He then ran to another part of the field making funny noises and armpit farts before running back to the pitching field.

"Uhh, I can't with that guy. You ready y/n !!" He shouted as he readied himself for the throw.

"Ready !!" You battered up as he then tossed the ball and you swung as hard as you could.

Beginning to run each plate as Sonic then ran all over the field trying to catch the ball, He then caught the ball and began to throw the ball back as you lunged at the final plate. managing to touch it as sonic then took the guarding position.

"Safe !!!!"

"Woohooo !!!" You cheered as you dusted your self off and high fived Sonic.

"You did amazing for your first game y/n !!" He congratulated you.

Smiling wide as you then sat down on the bench.

"Your really funny sonic, I like you"

After that, You two formed an epic friendship, One which would last for centuries as you or sonic would say.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

[thatone-brightstar]

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 6: The Fantastic Mrs. Fox pt. 2

Words: 5 k

Summary: Your two families meet and Carmy sees a different side of you.

a/n:Thank you all so much for the support and sweet messages! Also, new trailer just dropped and know that I'll need 2-3 business days to recover because ohmygodddd . Enjoy! xx

PS. Reader is Latina in this but I don’t specify from where so you can just fill in the blanks (it’s also why it’s all over the place lol)

PS2. The movie I’m referring to is The Fantastic Mr. Fox by Wes Anderson and it’s an absolute gem, you gotta watch it!!

WARNINGS: Smut ahead, oral sex (female receiving), p in v, dirty talk, reader is on birth control but isn't mentioned (wrap it up IRL tho), minors DNI but you'll do what you want so don't say I didn't warn you

“Can you please be careful with that, Jesus!” Carmy shouted from the wheel of Richie’s car, looking through the rearview mirror at the backseat where his three workers sat smushed together, one carefully balancing the delicate pastry.

“Why does Richie get the front seat?” Fak questioned with half his thigh against the right door.

“Cause it’s my car, now shut the hell up before I kick your ass out!” He fought back.

Sweeps began to argue on why Richie couldn’t carry the cake if he was sitting shotgun and how that was stupid because it was, again, ’my car and I can do what I want!’

“Is it still far? I think some of the gelée is starting to leak…” Marcus asked from the middle seat, moving his leg further out to not stain his pants with the syrupy liquid. 

“Nah, like two more blocks.” Carmy answered.

Soon enough, he found a parking space as close as he could to your building, then killed the engine. He climbed out first to help Marcus with the heavy box, which was in fact leaking slightly from one of the corners and he placed it on the roof of the car. He almost unconsciously wiped his hands on the back of his jeans, but immediately stopped when he remembered he swapped his usual dark jeans for a pair of clean deep blue ones. He had also added a beige short sleeve button up over the usual white T that covered him and a few rings to his fingers, hoping he was decent enough for the occasion. 

They could hear the buzz of rhythmic music and voices as they moved closer to the side of the building where he saw an opening in the fence. He gave the cake to Fak and pulled out his phone to double check your message to make sure they weren’t crashing a random person’s party, but before he could unlock it, he felt Richie elbow him continuously on his side. He looked up to him in annoyance, then he saw who his cousin was gawking at and the air in his lungs left in a shaky exhale.

Ravishing was the only word he felt could do you justice. Stunning, captivating and beautifully breathtaking were up on the list, but none seemed to be enough to describe how the slick red fabric accentuated every one of his favorite features on you. Your olive skin glowed under the afternoon sunlight as you walked towards them, dark curls held up with a soft ribbon that bounced with each of your steps. The frills on the hemline of your dress caressed your mid thigh as you moved, making him envious of a piece of cloth for the first time in his life. 

“Carmy, you lucky son of a bitch.” Richie whispered beside him, but he was more concerned on how he would keep his hands to himself during the whole evening when you looked like that.

“You guys made it!” You said excitedly once you reached them by the entrance.

You pulled each one into a quick hug, offering a welcome kiss on the cheek. You hugged Carmy for unperceivably longer than the rest, your citrus perfume invading his nostrils and engraving itself in his memories.

“What’s in the box?” You asked Marcus with a confused grin.

“Well you always bring stuff for us so we wanted to pay the favor back” He said with a wide smile. “I made it and Carmy helped decorate it.” He shrugged.

Your eyes danced between both men in admiration, the tears glossing them over  and a big smile taking up half your face.

“You guys are the best.” You whispered and threw your arms around them again. 

“Ugh- sorry I'm a bit tipsy-” You said to yourself once you let them go and chuckled, fanning your hands in front of your face to dry the upcoming tears. “I can take that to the table so you guys can enjoy yourselves… where’re the others?”

“Oh they took an uber behind us, they should be here in a bit.” Carmen answered, still dumbfounded like a moth to a bright light.

“Awesome, well the drinks are on the right and the food’s on the left so… enjoy!” You said taking the heavy box from Marcus, who clapped Sweeps on the back as they moved towards the drinks.

You rolled your tinted lip between your teeth staring up at Carmy for a second, before saying “Can you give me a hand… with this?”

“Wha- Oh, yeah, yeah sure.” He took it from your hands and followed you towards the food table, hearing a ‘Guess you're stuck with me’ from Richie to Fak as he walked away.

He followed mindlessly behind you, too enticed by how the dress accentuated the curve of your hips. You could have been leading him to his death and he would gladly follow with anticipation. He could feel himself grow slightly hard at the racing images flying through his head and he was glad that the shirt he decided to wear was long enough to cover his groin.

He reached the table after you, placing the package in a small space you had cleared in the center, then undid the latches at the top and took a butter knife to cut the cardboard down the side. A small gasp escaped your lips and you grasped his forearm at the sight of the gleaming pastry.

“Carm, it’s beautiful” 

“You think so?”

“Of course.. It kinda reminds me of the-”

He pulled up the picture saved on his phone and your eyebrows knitted together at the sight of the bright image.

“I kinda ripped off your design.” He confessed through a breathy laugh, scratching the back of his head.

“I think you made it better” You responded, then you hand slid from his arm to cup under his palm. “Thank you, it truly means a lot.”

Carmy swallowed dryly when your eyes flicked down to his lips momentarily and for a brief second he wanted to see what would happen if he leaned down and kissed you in front of all these people… but a voice shouting your name from behind made you lose grasp on his hand and step away instantly.

“Carmen, you came!” Your mother called excitedly, walking towards you by the arm of a tall older gentleman who he assumed was your grandfather.

“Hola, señora” He spoke carefully. He had been practicing some words with the teasing help of Syd, but unfortunately, that had been as far as the lessons had gone.

“Ay, muy bien!” She cheered and his ears reached a new shade of red. “Have you met my father yet?”

“No uh, w-we just got here.”

Carmy reached his hand out to the man, who swept his appearance then reached out slowly to clasp his hand with a firm grip. Your mother turned to her father and explained something in a quick spanish that was impossible for him to understand. What he did understand was the universal language of an embarrassed child, as your eyes grew wide and you let out a sharp ‘Mama!’ through gritted teeth.

“What?” He asked you amused.

“She told him you’re his next grandson-in-law” And when he looked down at you, a soft blush dusted your cheeks and your hand rubbed at the bottom of your nose to hide the shy smile.

“My Fox?” He heard the deep voice come from your grandfather and was more confused about the nickname than your mother’s statement.

“D’you want some Sangria?” You interrupted.

He nodded with a nice smile and you walked off to the drinks table with your mother behind you. He was about to follow behind, but the man beside him placed a gentle hand over his shoulder to stop him. 

“Carmy, yes?” He spoke with a slight crack in his pronunciation.

Carmy gulped and nodded.

“What is it that you do, Carmy?”

“I, uhm.. I own a restaurant.” ‘More like a burning shithole’ the voice in his head added.

The older man hummed in contemplation. “You know hard work, then?”

Carmy let out a nervous laugh then answered “Yeah, I-I do.” That would be an understatement.

“Good, good.” He patted Carmy’s back, the intimidating facade slipping when he turned to look at you laughing beside Syd and Marcus while you served two drinks. “She's been through a lot this year y'know... and I want only the best for my little Fox.” He turned back to him “Are you the best?”

Carmy’s eyes stayed glued on your figure, his heart warming at how you swayed naturally with the upbeat music, reminding him of vibrant hibiscus flowers in the breeze. “I want to be… yeah.” He confessed wholeheartedly.

A smile that reached your grandad’s eyes appeared before him, leaning to his side and whispering. “Good answer.”

“Can I ask you something?” He asked the man after a few silence filled seconds and took the small grunt as a sign to continue. “Why do you call her that? Fox?”

He heard the man’s booming laughter above the music before he began to speak.

“Do you know that fox movie? Where he steals all the chickens and lives in a tree?” Carmy shook his head. “She does, seen it a hundred times or more. When she was little, she walked around wearing fox ears her grandma made her and would chase the chickens around in my other daughter’s house. So she’s been my little fox since.”

A grin appeared slightly at the picture of a little you running around with cloth fox ears pinned to your hair. He wanted to ask about your grandmother, but before he had the chance, a woman in a tight blue dress tackled her arms around the older man. He only understood her excitement and giggles, then she signaled to someone across the area and the man moved with open arms to new arriving guests.

“Hi” She turned to him, stretching a well manicured hand towards him. “I’m Sarah.”

“Uh… Carmy.” He gave her hand a single shake, a little taken back by the light scratch of her nails on his skin.

“Oh yeah, my aunt told me about you.” She batted her long lashes at him and he readjusted his weight on his legs under her heavy gaze. “You’re the chef that works with my little cousin, no?”

Carmy nodded and swallowed nervously, assuming this was the cousin your mother wanted to set him up with.

“Cooking is such a hard job, with all the heavy lifting you do, I’m sure you don’t even need to work out.” She gave him a breathy laugh and he tried to hide his lack of comfort under a chuckle, his eyes scanning the space for you or any other person that he knew could pull him out of the situation.

“Maybe you can come over one day and cook for m-”

“Babe, d’you think you can help me with something?”

The sound of your voice hit him the way soft ocean breeze hits the rocks after a crashing wave and he unconsciously stepped further away from your cousin.

“Babe?” They both asked in surprise.

He raised his brows at the pet name, a slow fluttering sensation filling his insides because you had never called him anything other than by a variation of his name, or chef, in your whole time of knowing each other, yet now that it slipped past your cherry tinted lips, he could not ignore the shaking sensation the two syllable word had unearthed in him.

Your brows raised, expecting an answer from his parted lips. All he could do was nod slowly and take a few steps in your direction. You smiled softly up at him then turned to your cousin.

“Your mom’s looking for you. I think your kid knocked his tooth out again.”

Then you turned towards the door that led to the stairway with him following right behind.

You didn’t say a word as you made your way up the multiple floors and his hands developed a thin layer of sweat at the idea that maybe he had done something wrong. He was about to ask what it was you needed help with when you reached the door, but the moment he stepped into the dim hallway, your hands grabbed the two sides of his shirt and pulled him down to your awaiting lips. It caught him off guard, but the breathy sigh that left your chest  had him pressing himself closer to you. Carmy groaned into the kiss, the floral taste of red wine exploting his senses. His hands instinctively reached up to cup the sides of your face to deepen the action, tongue lapping at yours trying to get more of the intoxicating flavor. He felt your fingers circle around the loops of his jeans and pull him forward as you took small steps back down the hallway.

“You have no idea… how much I’ve wanted to do that.. today.” You managed to say between peppered kisses while pulling him deeper into the room.

One of his hands moved to the dip between your back and ass while the other extended long digits under your chin. In a second of bravery, he wrapped it tentatively, applying light pressure to the sides and causing a hefty gasp to rip from your chest. His smile unraveled at the melodious sound, dick now pressing hard against the material of his jeans.

“Just that?” He asked in a whisper then left your mouth to plant wet kisses along the edge of your lips and down to the valley of your jaw. He could feel your pulse quicken at his actions and your grip grow tighter on his jeans.

He felt the hand on your lower back hit the hard edge of the kitchen counter and he pressed himself flush against you. You shook your head at his question, attention trained at his lowering head now reaching your chest. Sultry kisses rose small bumps on the tender skin of your upper breast as your hand flew up to tangle in between golden strands. You pushed your head back to allow him an open access.

“More than that..” You whispered through difficult breaths.

“Yeah?” He asked, withdrawing from your skin and rising back up to your face. His nose rubbed along yours as his hands fell from their grip, down past your waist and to your hips. Fingers clawed at the fabric of your dress and bunched it up into high fists.

A low shiver left your lips at the contact of his hot skin against your thighs, fingernails raking along the sensitive area. Your hands rested on his shoulders, gripping tightly when skilled thumbs feathered over the thin hem of your underwear.

You hummed in affirmation, eyes wide and bright staring hungirly up at him through hooded lids. Your lips twitched up and you bit it slightly before speaking. 

“Y’know…” you whispered to Carmy, lips brushing over his with every word. “I chose the dress knowing how much you’d wanna fuck me in it.”

The breath he had struggled to take was forcefully knocked out by your admission. A groan moved past his  lungs, because fuck were you right. He felt like a mad man, unable to control himself from the moment your skin touched his. 

Without thought, he dropped to his knees, face buried in the material of your dress.

“Fuck, Carm-” Escaped your lips in heavy breaths. 

He looked up to find you a beautiful mess of shaky breaths and blushed cheeks. The golden necklace around your neck was disarranged and your exposed skin glistened from his wet kisses. He smiled at your glowing physique. 

Carmy never considered himself religious. He grew up catholic from his parents but never bought into the whole idea of an ever present being creating everything around him. In that moment, however, with the glowing rays of sunshine filtering through the windows and cascading over your form- red fabric bunched at your hips like an impending fire- he undoubtedly confirmed the existence of the godly being he wanted to spend all his mortal life worshiping. You had him like silly putty in your lovely little hands and he was too far gone in the moment to rationalize if he was fucked for good or not.

He hooked his index fingers on the band of your underwear and pulled it down torturously slow, following the drag of the fabric with his teeth. He didn’t want to waste the little time you had, considering you were also in the middle of your kitchen and anyone could walk in at any moment. But god did he want to slurp you up and bottle every last one of your desperate sighs, make you feel so good until the only word you remembered how to pronounce was his name. 

When the flimsy piece of clothing was finally down to your ankles and you had stepped out of it, his palms pushed the fabric up once more and he was greeted by the wonderful image of your glistening pussy. He swallowed down the sudden rush of saliva that invaded his mouth, a usual reaction from his body when he’s been starving for so long and is graciously presented with an appetizing dish.

He breathed out delicately above it, a clear pearl of slick forming on your folds, taunting him. He looked up at your aroused expression through hooded brows and without losing contact, stuck out his index finger  and swiped it over the tender flesh to collect the juices, then popped it in his mouth. The tangy taste of you on his tongue was all he needed to lose the last grips of control left in him. 

Carmy gripped firmly at your hips then pushed his face deep into your folds, tongue first. The force and the surprise of his actions had you losing your balance over him and holding on to his shoulder for support, mouth ajar. He used one hand over your stomach to keep you and the dress still against the counter, while the other held on to the supple bend behind your knee, raising it to rest on his ample shoulder and granting him greater access to you.

A mixture between a moan and a whimper invaded his ears, fueling the blaze of his actions and speeding up his attack on your cunt. He used his index and ring fingers to part at your labia, lapping with his flat tongue around the whole area. With blown eyes he looked up at your disheveled face, head thrown back as you tried to control your erratic breathing and he smiled to himself at how responsive you were to his touch.

He had learnt this like he had everything else, through technique, observation and a shit ton of practice. Everyone around him always assumed that just because he had never had a girlfriend before, that meant he had never had sex either. But they’d be surprised at what having your face and name linked to the top twenty best chefs in the country could do for your sex life in a supercilious city like New York. This was probably one of the few good things that he gotten out of it. Seeing you tremble through his actions over his mental stability seemed like a fair trade.

As he saw you fall into a breathless mess above him, a proudness flourished inside him. To know that it was he who turned you into a heap of mumbles and praises with just his skilled mouth.

“Shi-t, babe- so good. So so good…” You were too far gone to be able to say anything else.

He used his fingers to spread you open again and a high pitched cry vibrated in your throat when he wrapped his lips to suck on your clit. You pushed on his shoulder at the intense sensation and he let it go with a ‘pop’ of his mouth, kissing the velvet skin on your thigh and giving you some time to breathe. He took a few seconds to calm his racing heart and his cock jerking inside his jeans.

“As much..” You could barely speak between breaths “as I want you to make me come with your mouth- and I do-" your leg unhooked from his shoulder and you pulled him up by the collar of his shirt. “I really want you to fuck me right now.”

You didn’t give him time for an answer, only sealing your lips above his and groaning when you tasted yourself on his tongue. Your hands flew to the buttons on his jeans, undoing them with practiced ease, but before you could pull his stiff member from its confinement, Carmy grabbed at your hips and turned you towards the counter. On the wall across from the counter, by the door to your room, rested a tall mirror, long enough where you both could see your heaving upper bodies.

 His hand slid to the front to massage at your aching clit, chest pressed tightly to your back.

“God, you’re fuckin’ gorgeous, look at you.” He used his free hand to wrap around your neck and tilt your head to the mirror. “My pretty, pretty girl.” He whispered near your ear.

He had no idea what came over him when it came to having sex with you. The way your body responded to his touch caressed a part of his ego he thought dormant so long ago. Yet her you were, all doe eyes and shaky moans, ready for him to fuck you in your kitchen with your family only a few floors down. He really was a lucky son of a bitch.

Carmy used his slick covered hand to wrap around his cock, then gave a few taunting jerks on himself before aligning with your entrance; all while maintaining eye contact with you through your reflection. You gave him a little nod in the mirror, your hand covering over his inked one around your throat, then he pushed slowly into you until he felt your warmth swallow him completely. 

Your hands fell flat on the cold counter, the metal clink of your rings hitting the surface as you tried to scratch at something to hold on to. He kept his grasp on your neck steady and his eyes fixed on yours as he quickened his snaps on your hips. He could see your tits bounce in the mirror at his brutal force and it only made him want to go faster.

“I’m not gonna-fuck baby- not gonna last l-longer” You uttered in gasps.

Your back arched towards him when he hit that particular spot he had learned you liked, then he did it again and again until the strength from your legs disappeared completely, folding you over the counter. The fluttering around his cock signaled to him you were almost close and with the way his movements stuttered lightly, he could feel it too. 

He closed his hand around your neck again and pulled you to him. A mess of curls and reddened cheeks stared back at him, a pleased smile tattooed across your face.

He whispered filthy praises into your ear. “Look how good you look taking my cock.” He accentuated the words with a deep thrust. “You like lookin’ at yourself while I fuck you?”

You nodded frantically, pulling one of your hands up to grab at the back of his head.

“I like looking at you fuck me.” You answered back in shrill breaths. Your puffs blew on the sweat covered strands around your face, some clinging to the surface of your hot cheeks.

Your answer had him chuckling in delight and he picked up the pace one last time, heavy thrusts creating ripples on the tender skin of your ass cheeks. He circled his free arm around your waist and rubbed on your bundle of nerves until he felt you shiver with an upcoming orgasm, then he skillfully rolled the nub between his fingers and that was enough to have you break under him with a strong moan. Your cunt clung with breathtaking strength around his twitching cock, allowing him three more thrusts before he found his own release inside you. 

He took several large puffs above you, the lavender shampoo from your hair calming the erratic beats of his heart. Carmy pulled out slowly out of you and you let out a sensitive whine. He looked down at your tinted skin, attention fully on the drops of creamy white beginning to slip out of you with every involuntary spasm and it surprised him to feel the need to be inside you again.

He kissed your naked shoulder and smiled towards your reflection, the disarrangement of dark curls framing pink cheeks and kiss swollen lips had him clutching at his heart. You could have been there for an eternity, both afraid to break the bubble you had so cautiously created around you, but knowing you had to. 

“Is that what you needed help with?” He asked with a grin, reaching for a paper towel and running it under warm water before helping you clean up the mess he had gladly partaken in between your legs. "You coulda just asked..."

A relaxed laugh escaped your lips as you retied the ribbon in your hair and asked him to pass your discarded underwear, then brushed your hands around the ruffles of your dress to make it less wrinkled.

“Honestly I just wanted to get you away from my cousin.” You confessed, then walked towards him and combed your fingers through his hair while he readjusted his jeans.

“Guess I should make you jealous more often then, huh?” He asked and you stopped rubbing the lipstick off his cheek, giving him a glare. “I’m just joking!” Then he pulled you in for a tender kiss.

“C’mon, they’re probably looking for us.” 

“Let ‘em look, I don’t fuckin’ care right now.” He whispered back, catching your lips into another sweet long kiss.

“No, seriously. We gotta go.” You managed to say in between kisses and laughs. He planted his lips by your ear and inhaled your perfume.

You smiled, then intertwined your fingers with his and began your hefty walk back down stairs, a mild ache in his abdomen that would keep your escapade present in his mind.

“What the hell?” You faintly said.

A sudden rush of trumpets and string instruments reached your ears the moment you crossed the heavy metal door back into the courtyard. He could see all the guests crowded in a semi circle around a group of men belting out the lyrics to an unfamiliar but attractive song. Your hand held tighter around his and you turned to him with a confused grin.

“Was this you?” You asked above the overpowering music.

He shook his head ‘no’ and turned back to the Mariachi band, only to see Richie walking to them with extended arms, like an orchestra director but with a beer in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other.

“Whatup fuckos! You missed the whole surprise!” He yelled through the noise. 

“This was you?!”

He shrugged, taking a sip from his beer and turning towards the band.

“I felt kinda bad that you quit cause of me, so hope this makes up for it.”

Your hand released Carmy’s as you walked a couple of steps towards his cousin, circling as much as you could around his waist with your arms. Richie stayed frozen in his spot with his gaze down on you, then he looked up to Carmy who just stayed with raised brows. He moved his slender arms around you to hug you back, chin resting down on your head.

He cleared his throat after a few seconds and let you go.

“Okay, enough of that mushy shit.” Richie took another swig.

Someone called your name from the crowd and you turned to Carmy promising you’d be back in a bit, then ran to Syd, who took your hand and spun you around to the beat of the music. 

Richie strutted to his cousin’s side and offered him the burning cig. 

“That was nice of you. The Mariachi.” He clarified while taking a drag.

“Was nothin’.” He shrugged again. “The fucker owed me a favor.”

Carmy nodded slowly. Riche’s eyes flickered towards him then raised the bottle to his lips.

“She’s..uh… She’s good for you. Try not to fuck it up.” He stated simply, then added “Also you both reek of sex.” and this pulled a soft laugh from Carmy.

They both watched the crowd move rhythmically in silence for a long while, maybe three or more songs, until the musicians stopped and an uproar of clapping and cheers began.

People dispersed into their seats around the long table and you waved Richie and Carmy over to the empty seats around you and the other guys. 

As the sun hid behind the skyline and the lights under the trees casted a soft yellow glow around everything, he allowed himself to enjoy the moment away from his looming responsibilities. He ate everything you or your aunts offered him to taste, to the point where both his stomach and his heart felt like they could burst. He then downed it with glasses of Sangria and the constant beers Richie threw at him so he could show off his skill at opening them with a lighter, the only party trick he knew. 

At some point, his arm rested on the back of your chair and you leaned your back to rest on his chest, head nestled in the crook of his neck as your grandfather entertained their end of table with the romantic story on how he had met your passed grandmother. It was a beautiful story of ‘the old homeland’ as he called it and as he skimmed the back of his fingers on your smooth arm, Carmy listened attentively. He felt brave enough to let his guard down and plant a single kiss on the crown of your head, but didn’t notice the lingering stares and multiple hidden smiles from both families surrounding you. 

Your grandfather’s words swam peacefully in the light haze of his mind, both from the alcohol and the warmth radiating from your palm mindlessly tracing figures on his thigh.

‘Her father pointed a rifle at my head when I asked for her hand. I was not afraid because I knew she would say yes. And if she didn’t? Why would I ever want to live in a world without her by my side?’

Chapter 7.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne and that’s it lmao

[peachsayshi]

Inexperienced!reader sending playboy!geto nudes😋

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ playboy geto x virgin female reader (part 3) ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 5.8k

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ part 1 / part 2

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: in honor of sugu’s birthday - here’s an update! I cannot stress enough how much I love writing about these two! This might be one of my favorite geto pieces that I've written so far - thank you for sending over this request, nonnie! I'm sorry it takes me so long to get through them sldkfjslfj 🧡

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: character mentions: shoko and gojo, virgin reader; lovesick geto & reader; sending nudes; clitoral stimulation; foreplay; heavy petting; smut; light angst in the beginning (mostly backstory); mentions that reader gets jealous; just the tip (?); oral mention (m receiving)  

When Shoko introduced you to Suguru Geto, she gave you the following warning: “don’t fall for his bullshit or you’ll be reduced to a number.” 

You found it strange that she talked about one of her best friends in such a derogatory manner, but Suguru’s womanizing reputation accompanied him like a shadow. Shoko felt it was necessary to warn you of his behavior considering he would fuck anyone who caught his interest. 

This was the reputation that you tied to a man whose face you didn’t know, and it wasn’t until you met Suguru in person that you began to understand the allure surrounding his character. 

Geto’s beauty is breathtaking, mirroring a night sky littered with bright constellations. When he laid eyes on you for the first time, he bypassed his way straight to your soul. He held your gaze while he talked, speaking with a natural confidence that dominated the conversation. As the evening carried on, you were convinced that the word to describe how attractive he is didn’t exist yet. 

You could tell that Geto knew exactly what kind of reaction he could conjure with a simple smile. 

You almost forgot about Shoko’s cautionary words until you saw the evidence of her claims displayed as faded hickeys on Suguru’s neck. He wore those marks like a badge of honor, and the lack of shame he felt over displaying them had you wondering if he even cared that anyone could notice.  

“He told me he thinks you're cute,” Shoko admitted to you a few days later, and you tried really hard not to react over how much that flattered you. “I would ignore him though. He’s not exactly boyfriend material.”

You swore to yourself that you would be careful the next time you hung out with Suguru, but you quickly learned how difficult it would be to deflect his advances. As time passed you got to see the man in his truest form. You grew to admire his loyalty and consideration towards his friends which was soon extended to you the closer you bonded with the group. His witty sense of humor had you bursting into fits of laughter, but it also paralleled with a serious side that sucked you into long hours of deep conversations. 

Then one night while hanging out at Gojo’s house, you found yourself in the most precarious situation. You had no idea what exactly occurred that had you and Suguru all alone in the living room, while the rest of your friends disappeared somewhere within Gojo’s large estate.

You remember being on opposite sides of the couch to suddenly nuzzling closer into Geto’s space. The man was a dangerous magnet, and throughout the night had been pulling you into him without you even realizing it. Your heart rapidly raced when he complimented how beautiful you looked, and your lungs stopped working when you felt the tips of his fingers lightly hold the bottom of your chin as he decided to close the gap of space with a kiss. 

The brush of his lips over yours was enough for you to forcefully reel your heart out of that lustful haze. At this point you knew you liked Suguru far more than you anticipated. While kissing him would satisfy many of your desires, you weren’t willing to gamble your first experiences on a man who couldn’t reciprocate your feelings in return. The ache just wasn’t worth it, especially when Suguru had the title “heartbreaker” stamped across his dreamy face.

Instead, you pressed four fingers against his mouth and shifted your gaze down to your lap. 

“Please don’t kiss me if you don’t mean it, Suguru,” you pleaded, unaware of how his face fell at the sound of your small voice. 

Only after you started dating did he admit how much it hurt hearing you say that. His only intention was to kiss the girl that he’d grown to like, but he didn’t realize how insincere he came across until he saw your reaction. He knew he had to change then, especially since he’s made it quite clear to everyone around him that he wasn’t interested in serious relationships. 

Nobody believed that he would be able to commit, but Suguru proved them all wrong. You can never take away the effort he put in to earn your trust just to make this work. You’ve both come so far since the early days of your little cat and mouse game - the question of “will they, won’t they” no longer concerning anyone around you.  

That’s why suguru isn’t willing to lose you over stupid reasons that couldn't be talked out, and in turn you vowed that you would never use his past as a dagger in your relationship. 

This trust is what created a perfect harmony between you both, but there were still unexpected circumstances that tried to cut the sweet melody. 

A few days ago, you and suguru were enjoying a peaceful afternoon together. You were making plans for his birthday when halfway through the discussion decided to take a break and stop by the new cafe that had just opened up across the street from where he lived. 

The first thing you noticed about the interaction was the immediate way suguru tensed up upon greeting the barista. The pretty, pretty girl was taken aback by his presence, her voice breaking when his name left her and she nearly knocked over the tip jar resting by her side. 

Suguru nervously scratched the back of his head, an unsteady laugh escaping him as he stated that “it’s been a while” since they last saw one another.

Meanwhile, the barista blushed furiously as she jotted down your orders. You caught her attention flickering to Suguru’s tight hold on your waist when he pulled you even closer to his frame. Your boyfriend's calm demeanor was soon replaced by fake enthusiasm. He was trying really hard to glaze over the awkwardness of small talk by being casual but you could tell that he was flustered.

Despite his discomfort, there was a softness in his eyes when he looked at her - a natural recognition that unintentionally isolated you from the picture. You didn’t even have to ask what happened between them because you could see the passionate memories flicker across the counter through a mere exchange of glances.

That’s the thing about Suguru - his eyes are so expressive; they show the sincerity of his feelings for you and the brewing heat of his desires. They glow vibrant whenever he is happy and dim during moments of sadness. They expand as his anger rises and deepen on days when his sleepiness won’t leave him. There was so much that his eyes shared with you, but this exchange was new because Suguru has never regarded you like that before.

You weren’t bothered by any of it. 

The hard truth is that you had to acknowledge the fact that there were boundaries surrounding the intimacy of your relationship. While you refused to dangle Suguru’s past over his head, you still couldn’t deny that it played a part in why you’ve been maintaining these boundaries for this long.

You had your own concerns that worried you - what if Suguru loses interest the second he fucks you? What if this was just something he needed to get out of his system...a conquest in which he wanted to walk away victorious?

Even though these were ugly manifestations of your own anxieties, they still plagued your thoughts. You always wrestled with your guilt for reducing your boyfriend’s character to a hollow shell, but you still didn’t have an answer as to why you were so different from everybody else. 

The barista reminded you of that very fact. Her infatuation over Suguru was written plainly across her face. You empathized with her feelings because that’s exactly how he affected you. You were absolutely besotted by this man, and knew that he had the hearts of many others tucked away underneath his mattress. 

Her response towards him poked at your jealousy. You suddenly had an overwhelming sense to stake your claim over him. You wanted to interject the entire exchange by pulling him in for a kiss just to show her that there was zero possibility of any seconds chances coming her way. Alas, these were childish thoughts, ones that would only gratify you but make it worse for everyone else involved.

You decided to sweep it under the rug before intervening at the end. You thanked the barista when she handed you your drinks before leaving a few notes in the tip jar as you said your goodbyes. 

Being the gentleman that he is, Suguru profusely apologized about the situation afterwards. He was far more concerned with your own feelings, and vulnerably admitted that he didn’t know how to handle running into his past lovers with you around. 

“You know I'm not trying to fuck this up.” he adamantly claimed when you both entered his apartment, even though there was absolutely no reason to fault him for what just happened.

For once you found yourself consoling him. You kissed his cheek, the muscles easing all over his handsome face and murmured that there was nothing for him to worry about. His broad shoulders fell with relief, and he held your face before pulling you back in to capture your lips for another kiss in acknowledgement of your kind remarks. 

“You don’t have to worry either about anything, or anyone.”

Whatever envy you carried over his contemplation for this other woman dissipated when Suguru locked into your eyes. Your heart skipped over every other beat, something about his expression coiled hot strings around your veins. This was a look that thrilled and scared you at the same time, but you weren’t able to piece together exactly what it meant.

For the first time in the duration of your relationship, you found yourself countering your own decisions. 

What exactly am I waiting for? 

After everything that happened, were you really going to turn around and keep him at an arm’s length? How many more tests did Suguru have to go through to prove to you that he was yours? How many more reasons did he need to give you that there was nobody else he was interested in?

The instant you returned Suguru’s kiss is when you realized that you had been holding back while your boyfriend has been making extraordinary efforts to move forward. The recent incidents you both experienced proved that you desperately pined for one another, and by now you understood how significant it would be when you have sex together for the first time. 

You wanted more, that is why you decided that you would no longer allow reason to guide your judgement on this particular subject and finally chose your heart to take the lead.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊   .   ┊   ┊ ┊    ┊⋆     ┊   . ┊    ┊       ⋆˚               ✧. ┊          ⋆ ★

Gojo had dibs on Suguru the night before his birthday as part of his tradition with Shoko, where the trio all rang in his birthday together at midnight.

Gojo asked if you would like to join, but you had other plans to put in place.

Suguru was yours from the afternoon onwards; you were setting the scene for his arrival, quite aware that your impending surprise would be put a twist to his day. 

One hand lightly traces the curve of your neck while the other twirls the string of your silk black robe. Your gaze travels over the silhouette of your body reflecting against the mirror, and floating in the background were strings of black and silver balloons that decorated the ceiling of your bedroom. 

You angled your body in front of the mirror, taking a few strides back until your legs pressed against the edge of the bed. Your heart started thumping in your chest, your stomach twisting into itself as you slowly began to undo the robe. Pulling the silk fabric apart, you shivered when the cold air brushed along your torso.

You barely recognized yourself in your brand new lingerie set. The bra had a unique design, from the front it looked like your chest was covered with an enormous emerald bow. The high cut underwear had two tiny strings that pinched the flesh of your hips, and accentuated your curves perfectly. 

You plop onto the mattress and reach for your phone.

Recalling the exact position from the boudoir photo you found online, you decided to replicate the woman’s pose by extending one leg out and bending the other as you twisted your hips slightly to the left. You hooked your index finger around the string of your underwear, and puffed out your chest to ensure the peaks of your breasts were prominent in the shot. 

You can’t muster up the courage to show your face in this lewd position, and decide to keep the phone safely in front of you to hide your expression. With a few subtle adjustments you began snapping your photos, arching and writhing to change your angles after every couple of shots.

For the next set of pictures, you decided to remove the bra and change your position. With the side of your body facing the mirror, you pressed your chest into the mattress and raised your hips. You held the strapless bra in your free hand to emphasize that you were, in fact, naked at this very moment. You even went as far as to boldly drop the bra altogether, hovering your chest just a little bit higher off the mattress to give suguru a taste of what’s to come. 

The entire process felt like an outer body experience.

Once you finished, you swiped through each individual shot, picking your favorites before editing the photos just to adjust the lighting and color.

You wanted the image to look as striking as possible.

Your throat tightened as you opened up your chat with Suguru. You know that he’s still asleep, trying to recover from the night’s festivities. The last messaged you received was around 3 AM, where he informed you that he made it safely back home.

Just got in. I’ll see you tomorrow.

A brief moment of insecurity takes over, psyching you out entirely but with a quick huff you brushed it aside before typing up your reply. This is something you’ve both been looking forward to for a while, and you were confident in taking the first step over the dividing line. 

Morning, birthday boy -I can’t wait to celebrate with you xo  

You sent the text first, then followed up the message with the photos. 

Blue light brightens your anxious face, and you hated knowing that you’re going to have to simmer with anticipation until your boyfriend finally wakes up.

Minutes pass but it felt like hours. You nervously paced around the bedroom doing minor tasks to keep your mind off the photos. You fixed yourself back to your initial attire, before heading over to the kitchen to check on the cake stored in the fridge. You then called Suguru’s favorite ramen bar to confirm reservations for tonights dinner, before finally proceeding to wrap up his second gift which was a new silver chain.

You returned back to the bedroom, placing the gift on your side table before finally satisfying your worries and picking up the phone. 

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach when the saw that the message had switched from “seen” to “read” - but there was no response.

After thirty minutes of silence your chest tightens with regret. You thought Suguru would appreciate your daring approach, but when you tried to reverse the situation in your mind, you realized how mortified you would probably be if he were to wake up one day and decide to randomly send you nudes.

You didn’t even know if this was his kind of thing. You’ve never actually spoken about it before and just assumed with how open he was with his own sexuality that he would be elated by the pictures.

How could you drop the ball on him without taking into consideration that up until this point the man has been nothing but patient with you?

He didn’t deserve this.

Before you allow yourself to fall in such a downward spiral, a frantic knock comes through from your front door.

“Just a minute!” you call out, eyes darting between the cupboard and drawers as you start looking for a pair of sweats.

“It’s me, open up.” 

Suguru’s reply had you running on autopilot with your anxiety on full display. You quickly left your bedroom and make your way over to the entrance of your apartment. Your fingers clench into a tight fist, your nails imprinting crescents in your palms as you nervously opened the front door. 

Suguru is panting; breathing heavy like he’d just ran a marathon. The layers of his hair were falling over his face, unable to stay in place from the way he tied his messy bun. Your gaze shifted to his clothes, a mix match of grey that didn’t quite put together a proper outfit. He was wearing gym sweats along with one of his favorite t-shirts and slides with uneven socks. Your brows lifted in surprise, but as you parted your lips to ask why he looked so disheveled, the corner of his mouth twitched into a sinful grin. 

Suguru straightened his spine, showing off his dominating height as he took a few steps forward. He closed the door behind him, naturally reaching for your waist and his touch instantly reminds you of the indecent outfit you currently had on. 

“You nearly gave me a heart attack...” he breathes, pulling you into his broad frame and the force of his strength makes you squeak. 

“You didn’t say text me back, I-I thought you didn’t like it-” you blurt out the second your voice finds it’s clearance. 

Suguru doesn’t let you finish. One hand moves to hold your face, while the other tightens its grip around your waist. His lips are on yours instantly, it’s a soft kiss at first until he parts your mouth and slides his wet tongue along yours. You reach for his wrist, tracing your fingers along the smooth beads of the bracelet you bought him when you first started dating. Your nerves wither away, and he only leaves your sweet mouth when he feels you melt into his embrace.

“Are you supposed to be my present? Or was it just the photos?” he chuckles adorably then follows his question by kissing the tip of your nose. 

“I’d like to be,” you mumble against his lips. “I just want to make this day special for you, Sugu.” 

His hand travels to the nape of your neck, and he holds you tenderly as he presses his forehead against yours. He sighs with relief, closing his eyes for a moment and keeping his smile.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to handle you spoiling me like this,” he teases, then reaches for your hand to guide you back to the bedroom.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊   .   ┊   ┊ ┊    ┊⋆     ┊   . ┊    ┊       ⋆˚               ✧. ┊          ⋆ ★

Suguru’s fingers knead your plush thighs straddled over his hips. I’m so lucky, he thinks, I’m so lucky you’re mine. He rests his head against the bed frame, the strands of his freed mane circling his face like an obsidian halo. He hums at the sight of your perked breasts pushed up by your bra. His thumb and index finger rub the satin fabric of the bow and his eyes twinkle with appreciation. He’s quite pleased that he’s earned this…that’s he’s earned the right to see how cute you look like this. 

“Look at you,” he whispers in disbelief, snaking his bottom lip between his teeth as he studies you with care. His index fingers hook around the strings of your underwear, and he retracts the material before releasing it just to hear the band snap against your skin. 

You reach to squeeze his shoulders in response.

“Do you like it?” you ask politely, referring to the lingerie set even though your boyfriend’s mind is focusing on other things. 

Suguru sighs once more before circling his arms around your waist. 

“I like you. Everything else is just the cherry on top...” 

He arches forward to softly peck your collar bone, then guides his mouth up your neck to plant another kiss underneath your jaw. 

"I can’t stop taking you in,” he mumbles. “You’re perfect, sweetheart. You’re so perfect...”

You exhale quietly. You can feel your body turn into liquid in his embrace as your stomach flutters. You reach for the nape of his neck, lightly scratching the back as you open your lovestruck eyes to soak in his beauty.

“You are too, Sugu.” 

Your precious reply has him searching for your lips to taste your honeyed voice, and he happily swallows the pretty moan that follows. Your fingers thread between the strands of his hair as you allow him to kiss you with unrestricted passion. Tangled tongues interchange with tender bites when two hands suddenly reach for the hooks of your bra. You don’t stop Suguru when he unfastens the band or when he slowly pulls the material away from your chest. You’re too busy devouring his kisses like a hungry kitten while your arousal pools between your legs from the sensation of his mouth alone. 

You can’t imagine it feeling better than even though this is just the tip of the iceberg. 

“I need to know...” Suguru interjects, his breath hot and heavy as he tries to even it out. “I need to know when you want to stop-’

“Don’t wanna stop,” you pout with a shake of your head, your mumbled reply laced with disappointment when he tilts his head away as he raises one brow.

“Are you sure?” 

“Mhmm, more than anything….” 

“But…what changed your mind?” 

You track a line down the bridge of his angular nose, the pad of your finger tapping his cupid’s bow and you lean in to retrieve the kiss you sought out earlier. 

“You did.”  

“Huh,” he contemplates, “I guess...I guess we are doing this then…” 

“Yeah...” you sigh into his mouth as you gently rock your hips. “I guess we are.”   

Suguru swallows the lump in his throat, nodding his head mindlessly at your consenting words.

“Fuck, okay…can-can we just slow things down for a second...” 

He leans back slightly so he can get a better look at you and something twists in his lower belly from your dazed expression. He motions to hold your face in his hand, his thumb swiping over your puffed bottom lip and dragging across a tiny string of saliva. He nearly melts into the mattress beneath him when you absentmindedly kiss the tip of his finger as your eyes fall heavy. 

You have no idea what you are doing to him right now.  

Suguru wants to eat you right up, keep you in place as he allows himself to savor every inch of your bare skin. He takes another second to find the motor controlling his restraints, holding himself back from suddenly caging you beneath him and fucking you until you were a blubbering mess. 

He leers at your chest, bringing one large hand to cup your breast which makes his mouth dry up like he swallowed a ball of cotton. You naturally try to curl away, but stop when his thumb drags over the peak of your mound and delicately brushes your nipple. With nothing but sheer adoration blinding him, he repeats the action a few times until he feels your nipple pebble against his touch. Your lashes flutter like small bird’s wing, and he brings his fingers to the tips of both your breasts to massage both nipples.

“God, look at your fucking tits, sweetheart…” he rasps in between fondling you, “m’pretty girl…you’re more gorgeous than I imagined...” ”

You’ve seen the many faces of his lustful appetite but none of them compared to this. Your clit throbs from the praise; you don’t know how far he’s planning on going tonight, and your thighs clench with anticipation from how sensitive you were feeling already. 

Suguru takes that as a queue to observe the space between your legs and his cock twitches at the darkened patch on your underwear.

“Turn around, sweetheart. Back to my chest.” 

The strong tone of his command sent shivers up your spine. You nod your head, leaving one last kiss on his cheek before shifting your position until you were seated comfortably right in front of him. He groans when your ass rubs over his erection, and you stop yourself from moving when when his hands grip your knees. Flushed against his chest, Suguru drops his chin to your shoulder and caresses the side of his face to your cheek. He runs his nail beds back and forth, before finally extending his fingers and spreading your thighs a little wider. 

“This isn’t going to hurt, I promise. Just relax f’me okay?”

You nod your head, your eyes focusing on your boyfriend’s hands as you watch him lift the strings of your underwear just a little bit higher. The material pulls against you, outlining the shape of your slit and you whimper when he slides one hand underneath to compress his fingers into the fat of your left hip. 

His other hand teases you, knuckles brushing over your lower belly and your stomach sinks from the ticklish sensation. He motions his index finger along the thin band of your underwear, and at a painfully gradual pace begins to direct himself closer to your clothed pussy. 

His eyes widen, the tips of his ears burning as his chest pinches at the sound of your breath wavering from the contact. 

“Baby, you’re soaked,” he points out in surprise, “Ugh, I haven’t really touched you yet...”

Your nose bumps into his when you angle yourself to face him. Your speaking into his lips, one hand gliding up to hold the back of his head as you sigh out your reply. 

“M’always wet whenever we kiss,” you admit shyly.

Suguru’s brows pinch together in frustration and he prods his fingers deeper into your hip. 

“Shit, I’m on a short trigger right now...” he snarls, while simultaneously turning his head back so he can get a proper look at your cunt. “...I won't last long if you keep talking like that.” 

He curses again under his breath, tugging your underwear aside only to find your glittering slick catch onto the material. He licks his lips eagerly, thrilled to know that he would eventually get a taste of this untouched fruit. He takes in the shape of your lips, and you whimper when his expert fingers press against your labia as he lewdly spreads you open.

Your weeping hole drips honey; the man has half a mind to push two fingers inside you to feel you suck him in, but he would have to save that for another day. He can see how responsive you are, and the last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm you with too much stimulation.

You’ve given him the access, and he wasn’t going to abuse his privileges. 

He gathers up your arousal with two fingers then finds your clit. The pressure is gentle at first as he lubricates the bud, massaging in a circular motion while loosening his hold on your hip. Your back arches against his ministrations as he maintains his steady pace. His free hand floats up along your ribs until it tweaks your hard nipple. Your voice trembles when you whine, and you hold onto his legs for more support as you begin to roll your hips into his hand. Suguru can feel himself tenting in his sweats, and he pinches your clit before switching to broad strokes to tease your vulva. 

“Like how that feels?” he coos into your ear. 

“Mmph, yeah...” 

“Going to train this pussy to take my dick well, stretch you out nice and good so that’s all you feel when I’m inside you...” 

He won’t admit that it can’t happen yet - the man wouldn’t be able to control his natural impulses with your submission. All of this was equally as overwhelming for him. God knows how long he’s waited, how often he relieved himself with a firm grip around his dick just picturing what was playing out before him. 

He presses his finger against the opening, ghosting over the hole l to tease you. Your hips buck into his hand, and Suguru pulls at your nipple in response. He presses his lips to where your neck and shoulder meet, sucking on your skin until a blemish breaches the surface.  

“You’re all I want, all I fucking need...” 

“Sugu...” 

He rolls your nipple between his finger, his touch returning to your pulsing clit as he tenderly works the bud. 

“Best thing that’s ever happened to me...don’t want anyone else,” he carries on, the words spilling out of him faster than he can think. 

“Suguru, shit-ah...” you quiver, the ache in your core tightening your abdominal walls and the build up has you gripping the back of your boyfriend’s hair roughly.

His lips stay against your neck, wet open-mouthed kisses sweeping your skin and he molds his hand over your breast to latch onto you. His fingers are moving faster now, and you pull your legs further apart as you grind your hips. When his mouth finally finds yours, he leaves just enough space for you both to share breaths.

He knows how close you are. There is no way you would be able to hold off the way he likes just yet - it doesn’t matter if you’ve done this before on your own because Suguru’s touch is still so unfamiliar.

“Sugu, sugu...god, I’m gonna-m’gonna...” 

He silences your angelic voice with a kiss, coveting each and every sound that you have already given him, and knows that he is about to push you over the edge. 

A few more strokes do it; the all consuming feeling has your body contracting, he can feel your muscles pulse when he cups your pussy in his hand. Your hips thrusting into the air as you fight through the waves of your pleasure. 

“Easy, sweetheart, easy...” Suguru laughs into your neck. He holds you until you settle back against his chest, and you try to catch your breath while coming down from your high. 

A few minutes pass until Suguru unwraps his arms around you. He falls back against the pillows, closing his eyes as he subconsciously squeezes the outline of his prominent erection and groans with exasperation. 

The bulbous head of his cock leaked so much pre cum it stained through the front of his gray sweats.

“Sugu?” you call out, and he notices how heavy his head feels when he opens his eyes. 

His thigh muscle twitches underneath your palm. Through a hazy lens he sees you on all fours, your face angling itself over his cock.

You quickly glance back to look at him from under your lashes. 

He sees what you want to do, but his throat tightens like someone had just poured thick honey down the hatch. He blinks away the seconds, watching your curious hands roam underneath his top, and he feels your fingers hook around his sweat pants and boxers. 

“Your turn, birthday boy...” you say in a cheeky voice. 

Suguru moans and it sounds like he’s an actual pain waiting to be alleviated. He raises his hips as you help remove the fabric constraining him and he catches the way your eyes circle into orbs watching his impressive length spring out of his boxers and slap against his lower belly. 

Suguru knows he’s big - his past lovers never complained about what his genes graciously gifted him, but he can practically see the thought “how’s that going to fit” run through your mind when you stare at him like a deer in the headlight. 

You drop his clothes to the side, your apprehension creeping back as your jaw goes slack fixating on his length. Protruding veins run up the shaft, his cockhead a deep purple dribbling with cum. He isn’t neatly trimmed as usual, pushing off his upkeep since he had no reason to be obsessive about maintenance. 

“You don’t...” he grunts, thinking he can just quickly take care of himself to avoid pressuring you, “you don’t have to do anything-” 

You return back to all fours; resting your cheek against his inner thigh while Suguru observes you with curious eyes. He watches you wrap your fingers around the base, giving him a few soft pumps, before leaning forward and licking a stripe up the underside. Your mouth finds the tip, and you kiss the head lovingly before sucking over the slit. 

“You’re beautiful, Sugu,” you sigh dreamily.  

Suguru’s hands catches the bedsheets. His eyes shoot wide open to gaze at the rounded balloons above his head. Your mouth parts, and you take him, carefully widening your jaw as you lower down to swallow every inch. 

“Just the tip...just the tip for now,” your boyfriend sobs, his voice cracking upon making his second demand. 

He didn’t want you to overestimate what you can handle, and he wasn’t stable enough to maintain any composure about fucking your throat. 

You release the head with a little pop, leaving soft pecks on the side as your other hand grabs the weight of his heavy balls. 

“Tell me what to do,” you request, any uncertainty in your voice veiled by your confidence to please him. 

“Suck on it - like what you j-just did,” he informs, one of his fingers moving to trail the shell of your ear, “and just keeping pumping at the base...ugh, fuck...yeah, just like that...” 

You follow his instruction well, your lips swallowing the tip as your tongue rolls around the head like a lollipop. You jerk him off at the same time until you find your own rhythm that suited you. The warmth emanating off of his body blankets him, and he literally feels his soul grow malleable inside him. Suguru moans your name over and over again - it sounds like a prayer on his lips as tears prick his eyes. You don’t stop until thick ropes of of cum release into your mouth, and a flash of white blinds him as you deliver him to salvation.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

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