#please reblog so everyone can appreciate this fucking scene

[threesonsofyorks]

"And now, his monarch's sweating face thrust into his, he remembers something his father told him: if you burn your hand, Tom, raise your hands and cross your wrists before you, and hold them so till you get to the water or the salve: I don't know how it works, but it confuses the pain, and then if you utter a prayer at the same time, you might get off not too bad. He raises his palms. He crosses his wrists. Back you go, Henry. As confused by the gesture — as if almost relieved to be stopped—the king face away and so relieving him, Cromwell, of that bloodshot stare, of the indecent closeness of the popping blue whites of the king's eyes. He says, softly, 'God preserve you, Majesty. And now, will you excuse me?' (Mantel, H. 2012. Bring up the Bodies. 276-277)

MARK RYLANCE and DAMIAN LEWIS as THOMAS CROMWELL and KING HENRY VIII in WOLF HALL (2015-) | 1x05 "Crows"

[rafesmuse]

Can you do one where we Ride Rafes thigh in his truck?

RIDING RAFE’S THIGH IN HIS TRUCK

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: smut 18+, thigh riding, degradation and praise

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“Such a fucking slut” Rafe growled, pulling up your skirt as you chased your high by grinding on his thigh. A wet patch had already formed on his pants and your panties were soaked, your thighs covered in your wetness. Rafe sat back in the backseat of his truck as he held you on his lap, taking in your beauty while his strong hands rested on your hips, strictly guiding your movements.

“Couldn’t wait to get home, hm? So needy” You tried to. You tried to wait until you both got home. But Rafe kept teasing you by placing his hand on your thigh throughout the entire ride and inching his way up to your underwear. You were soaking at that point— your wetness dripping down onto the passenger’s seat so you begged him to help you out. “Not my problem” was all he said while he shrugged, his eyes not leaving the road. After much begging, you eventually got him to park his truck on the side of the road, and riding his thigh was the most he let you do.

“Rafe…” you whined, as his firm hold on your hips restrained you from moving quickly enough to finish. “What’s that? My baby’s still not satisfied?” he taunted, looking at you with a smirk on his face as he cocked his head to the side. You shook your head and pouted, knowing it made it harder for him to resist. One hand swiftly grabbed the back of your neck while his head moved closer to yours, whispering in your ear, “Then fucking beg for it.” His deep, low voice sent shivers down your spine, arousing you even more.

“Please… please let me cum Rafe. I need to” he chuckled, eyeing you up and down. “Need to? So fucking pathetic. Go on, make yourself cum” You exhaled in relief as you watched him move his hands behind his head, enjoying the scene in front of him. “But I won’t help you, alright?” you nodded as you closed your eyes, focusing on your movements.

You felt your high approaching as you increased your pace, your hands firmly grasping Rafe’s shoulders. His mouth moved to your neck, covering it in hickeys while he still kept his hands off of you. “You know anyone could see you if they just walked by, hm?“ Your mouth opened slightly as you moaned in response, unable to form coherent sentences. “You know what, I hope they will, so everyone can see how fucking desperate my girl is" A chuckle escaped his mouth as he continued peppering your neck with sloppy kisses. “Give them a show, baby”

“F-fuck, Rafe!” you moaned out when Rafe suddenly flexed his thigh. A few more movements and your orgasm washed over you, causing you to see stars. Your body began to shake as you held onto Rafe for support, riding yourself through your orgasm. “There you go. Good girl” Rafe praised as you breathed heavily, coming down from your high. “I can’t wait to fuck you when we get home”

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[cinnamostar]

seven dates to fall in love

part two. part three. part four.

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 4.3k

cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn (?!), cursing, one gorey joke thing, arguing, they;re each other's biggest haters, let me know if i missed anything !!

a/n : this is part one of a possible mini series! not sure how many parts this will be, but let me know what you think <33!! likes, reblogs, and feedback is always appreciated. this is supposed to be an uncomfortable read so i hope i got the vibe down LMAO this is also more to set the scene/story so not much going on in this part...

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Tears rolled down your cheeks as Hyunjin cupped your face, lips trembling as your doe eyes looked into Hyunjin’s. His hands gently rested on your cheek, his palms cool to the touch in contrast to your warm tears. His eyebrows furrowed in concern as his thumb gently caressed your cheek in an attempt to soothe your broken heart, yet his eyes lacked any emotions, no love to be found behind his cold, dark eyes. His body was stiff and uncomfortable, his movements almost robotic as he tried to lean closer to your face, yet all you could do was roll your eyes and sigh, as you braced yourself for what was next.

“Cut!” yelled the director furiously, a frown painted on his face, “This is ridiculous! We are never going to finish filming if you two can’t act out a simple kiss scene with each other.”

Hyunjin and you instantly jumped away from each other, not missing the chance to glare at the other as the director chastised you both.

“You two are amazing actors, that’s why I picked you both for these roles, I’ve seen you both act these kinds of scenes before, but my god, do you two lack chemistry,” ranted the director, his face reddening in frustration, “I get you two don’t like each other, but your entire job is to act like it for a bit. If you guys can’t solve this, then one of you is getting kicked off the project and being replaced.”

The last sentence caused you both to snap your heads towards him, eyes widened in disbelief as you scoffed, “It’s not my fault he doesn’t know how to fucking act properly! He’s the one who is messing up the scenes,” pointing your finger accusingly towards Hyunjin.

Hyunjin crossed his arms defensively, venom lacing his words as he spat with incredulity, “Me? Please, I should be getting paid more for having to pretend to be in love with that face of yours.”

You turned to Hyunjin once more, your hands balling into a fist as you opened your mouth to speak, but you were quickly cut off, “Save it, I don’t have time to listen to your childish arguments anymore. I will give you guys one week to figure this out, and if you are not able to get through this scene, consider it over for one of you,” promptly spoke the director before turning to the crew, “Everyone, go home. We’ll come back in a week from now and hopefully we will have something to work with.”

As everyone began to shuffle off set, you stomped your way to the dressing room, wanting nothing more to get away from Hyunjin at that moment as a rageful fire burned inside of you. You slammed the door open as you slumped in your seat, seething as you remembered Hyunjin’s words and how unlucky you were that he had to be your costar. You sighed as your manager entered right after you, a serious look taking over his features, “Y/N…”

“I know, I know!” you groaned, rubbing your face with your hands out of frustration, “I know a lot rides on this project and I promise I am trying my best to work with him, but he makes it so difficult too!”

Your manager, Chan, gave you a sympathetic look while shaking his head, “Well, you two are going to need to get over your differences somehow. This will look really bad for you if you get kicked off and you will be less likely to get any other roles in the future,” he murmured, “I will… talk to Hyunjin’s manager and see if we can figure something out, okay?”

You removed your hands from your face, your apologetic eyes meeting Chan’s, “I’m sorry, he just really knows how to get under my skin.”

“It’s alright, we’ll work something out. I’m not letting you lose this opportunity,” he promised before stepping out of the room, presumably to meet Hyunjin’s manager.

Sighing once more, you recalled the day you met Hyunjin on the set of another project two years ago. Initially, you both seemed to get along really well with each other and had great chemistry on camera, as you each were playing two side characters that had a small romance flourishing in the film. Yet, somewhere along the line, your relationship with Hyunjin soured out of nowhere, him suddenly being cold with you and making snide remarks every chance he had. It created such an uncomfortable work environment, you almost considered dropping acting altogether, afraid to encounter other similar characters like him. Luckily, Chan had convinced you otherwise, reassuring you he would do everything in his power to avoid any projects with him in it and also insisting your talents would go to waste if you let one guy ruin it all. Besides, you loved acting and you were slowly making your dreams come true. Why would you ever let Hyunjin of all people ruin it for you?

Ever since then, you despised Hyunjin due to his treatment of you and whenever you did have the misfortune of running into him, you did your best to keep it curt and cordial, never lingering around too long. He seemed to be on the same page as you, but the look on his face spoke of every nasty thought he was holding back on, and you hated him for it.

And while Chan did hold up on his end of his promise, it all came crashing down at this latest project. This was an offer neither you or Hyunjin could resist, especially when the writers, producers, and director personally approached both your managers and offered the role to you directly, plopping the opportunity right in your lap. The writers really wanted you both to be the leads, believing you two were perfect for the roles and had even seen that one film project you and Hyunjin did years ago, which unfortunately set their expectations extremely high, which led to the disaster you two are currently in.

It was impossible to say no to them, especially when they went out their way to contact you, and the script was great, it seemed like something you would have so much fun filming it, yet Hyunjin was quick to suck out all the joy from it.

You tried, you really tried to be as professional as possible with Hyunjin, and filming went pretty well the first few days. In fact, it may have gone a little too well that you both left the entire staff speechless after filming an argument scene between the two main characters. So much so, that the director applauded at how real you two were able to portray the scene, even bringing him to tears as he beamed proudly at you two, assuring him that he had made the perfect casting decision. Little did anyone know, you and Hyunjin’s scripted argument was not acting at all, but was a reflection of how you felt about each other. The rageful yelling, the resentful expressions, the improvised insults, and emotions were all entirely real - there was no need for acting when you both loathed one another.

Once it was time to finally start filming the romantic elements, the prospects of this being the next greatest show was squandered instantaneously by the painful awkwardness between you and Hyunjin. And to be honest, it was mostly Hyunjin who was tripping up during these scenes, making anyone who witnessed his weak attempts of being romantic with you cringed due to how much he struggled to even look at you and treat you like a person. Every now and then, you’d find yourself breaking character, but for the most part you were able to get through your lines pretty convincingly. Although, for some reason, Hyunjin was having an incredibly difficult time completing most of his lines and struggled keeping that abhorrent scowl off his face. Yet, even though you had managed to do quite well, you were also being punished by Hyunjin’s ineptitude. 

How on Earth was this supposed to all be resolved in one week? This was a two year long feud that was not simply going to disappear over the course of the week, but you knew both of you were too competitive to let this project go. Somehow, it would just have to work out, but it was a matter of how. As you lost yourself in thought, the door to the room opened once more with a nervous Chan standing at the entrance.

You raised your eyebrows in concern as you examined Chan’s anxious body language, “What happened?”

He gently closed the door behind me, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, “So… I talked to the producers and Hyunjin’s manager…”

You nodded your head, encouraging him to continue, “Okay, go on. What did they say?”

“They’re really upset and disappointed, as they had really high expectations and now they've decided that they’ll just replace both of you if next week doesn’t go well.”

“What?!” You jumped from your seat in shock, no longer having the possible safety of remaining on the project to back you up.

“And I don’t think I need to tell you how much worse this will be for both your public images,” Chan spoke nervously, almost as if he was dreading to share the rest of the conversation with you, “So, Changbin and I spoke, and as both your managers, we think you two need to do something to get over this bump.”

Your eyes narrowed as you tried to decode Chan’s words, “Uh huh, which means what exactly…?”

“You’re really not going to like this, I’m really sorry, I tried to think of other solutions, b-”

“Please, Chan, just spit it out already.”

Chan sighed, “Well, Changbin and I think the best way you guys can learn to recreate that kind of romantic chemistry is by, well… going on dates this next week? You know, learn to get used to being romantic with each other so it's easier to act it out on camera.”

Your jaw dropped as your eyes bored into Chan’s as annoyance made its way into your body, “No, absolutely not! I want nothing to do with that man, that sounds like a terrible idea!” you exclaimed, your face contorting into a frown as your voice grew louder.

Chan lifted his hands before him in an attempt to fan the flames of your anger, “Y/N, I know, I know, but this is the best we got for now! Do you have any other better ideas?”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat as you shook your head, “No, but… That just sounds like a week of pure torture!” you whined, Chan’s face dropping into an apologetic expression.

“Just promise me you will try your best? It’s only for a week, and then all you will have to do is get through the rest of filming.”

“I guess,” you grumbled, turning your back to Chan as you ran your hands through your hair, “Let’s just hope Hyunjin isn’t too much of a pain in the ass.”

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The next day rolled around as you waited outside of your apartment building with a miffed expression on your face, tapping your feet impatiently as you pulled out your phone to check the time. 

7:10pm.

Great, Hyunjin was now ten minutes late to pick you up for your first oh-so practice dates. You felt yourself grow angrier as the minutes passed, your veins burning hot as you contemplated going back inside and calling Chan to yell at him how this idea was never going to work, but before you could, a black car with tinted windows pulled up next to you. The window on the passenger side rolled down, revealing an upset Hyunjin in the driver’s side who called out to you, “Wow, don’t look too happy to see me. Get in.”

This only made your frown deepen as you rolled your eyes, opening the car door to take a seat, “Whatever. Couldn’t even open the car door for me, huh?” you slammed the door shut, crossing your arms as you looked ahead, avoiding Hyunjin’s gaze.

He scoffed while putting the car in drive, “Now why the hell would I do that?”

“Aren’t you supposed to learn how to be all gentlemanly and shit? Isn’t this why we’re doing this?” you snapped, nails digging into your hands as you clenched them in an attempt to hold your anger in.

Hyunjin only shrugged, “Funny you think you deserve that treatment. Just shut up and let's get this over with.”

You held your tongue, resisting the urge to start another quarrel with him in this car ride to whatever restaurant Changbin reserved for you two. It was a 20 minute drive and you refused to waste your breath on some argumentative asshole, and reminded yourself that at the very least you’d be eating something delicious soon enough.The car ride was tense as neither of you dared to speak, especially after Hyunjin turned the music up to hide the deafening silence that hung in the air. As soon as you both arrived at the restaurant, you exited the car in a hurry, desperate for a breath of fresh air and some reprieve from the tension you just sat in. Unsurprisingly, Hyunjin strolled right ahead of you, not making any sort of effort to acknowledge your existence as he marched through the restaurant's front doors as soon as he exited the car, causing you to chase after him just to keep up with his long strides. Truthfully, it felt like Hyunjin was just trying to piss you off, and it was working.

Upon entering the building, you realized Changbin had definitely booked you guys an extremely upscale restaurant, which explains why he was so insistent on making sure you both dress formally. Everyone in here reeked of affluence, and while you and Hyunjin were able to afford these luxuries due to the success of your careers, you still couldn’t help but feel out of place. The other patrons were dressed similarly to you, but there was this extra layer of otherworldly riches radiating off of them. Perhaps it was their mannerism or the snobby, fake, business smiles exchanged amongst them, but something about this place was extremely unsettling.

Hyunjin approached the host with a polite smile, “Reservation for Hwang.”

The host nodded, retrieving two menus before standing in front of both of you, bowing “Mister and Mx. Hwang, please follow me this way.”

Your body physically recoiled with disgust and shock when you heard the host refer to you as Mx. Hwang, wanting to immediately correct him, yet you reminded yourself you were here on a date, so it would be best to try to immerse yourself into the role as much as you can for the sake of your career and the future of this current project. The host led you to your table, which was thankfully located in a more secluded corner of the restaurant, a small candle in the middle of it to help set the romantic mood.

You thank the host as you sat down, graciously taking the menu from his hand with a smile, which dropped into a glower as soon as the host left, “Are you not taking any of this seriously?”

Hyunjin pursed his lips, his eyes scanning the menu in his hand, “You expect me to take you seriously?”

Your jaw dropped, completely flabbergasted at his lack of concern over the situation he put you both in, “What the fuck is your problem?” you growled in a syncopated whisper, trying not to draw any attention to you, “Do you not care about the possibility of both of us losing our roles?”

Hyunjin let out another exasperated sigh, as if you were inconveniencing him, “I am trying to get through his evening with you without wanting to gouge my eyes out,” he dramatically plopped the menu down on the table, “I do care, of course I fucking care.”

“Then can you at least act like it?” you whispered angrily.

“Maybe if you would shut up-”

Before Hyunjin could finish his statement, the waiter came by with an excited and hospitable smile, “Hello, Mister and Mx. Hwang! I hope you both are having a lovely evening. I’ll be your server for the night, can I interest you guys in a bottle of wine before we get started with food?”

You smiled at the server, nodding your head, “Oh, yes, that sounds wonderful. We’ll take whichever one you recommend.”

The server nodded sweetly, blissfully unaware of the tension between the two of you, “Great! I’ll bring out one of the house favorites for you two to try, I’ll be back shortly.”

As soon as the server was out of earshot, you glared down at Hyunjin once more, gripping the menu in hand as your knuckles turned white, “I am going to pretend I didn’t hear you. Do you know what you’re going to order?” you asked, trying to at least make some sort of conversation with him.

Except, Hyunjin just hums a response as his eyes return to the menu, choosing to ignore your question as the chatter of other patrons fills the silence. You let out a heavy exhale, debating on whether you should reach over the table and slap him, play along with him, or continue trying for, once again, the sake of your careers. “Well, I’m going to get the filet mignon. I think it’ll pair nicely with the wine.”

Hyunjin continued to ignore you, now scrolling through his phone which caused your anger to boil up within you as you wondered how on Earth you were going to get through the rest of the night with any sort of progress. “Seriously, Hyunjin? Are you not even going to try?”

He looked up from his phone, an unamused look painting his features, “Please just shut the fuck up. It would make this night a whole lot more bearable if you knew how to keep your mouth shut.”

“Hwang Hyunjin, I swear to f-”

“Alright, here you go,” the waiter returned with a cheery smile, setting down to glass cups while popping open a bottle of wine, “Are you two ready to order?” he beamed as he poured a healthy amount of wine in each of your glasses, and lord knows you need a drink right now.

“Ah, thank you,” you forced a courteous smile, “I’ll take the filet mignon, please.”

“Alright, and what about you, sir?”

“I’ll have the whole grilled snapper, thank you.”

“Perfect, I’ll have those out as soon as they’re ready.”

You felt yourself growing incredibly frustrated as time ticked by, unable to sit still in your seat due to the roaring fury you felt inside of you. You just could not understand why Hyunjin was so hateful towards you, you had no idea what caused him to behave this way with you and you were growing sick of it. Maybe you could confront him about it, but right now, you were way too riled up to even think of having that conversation with him. Your face was stuck in a permanent scowl as Hyunjin wore a blank expression, seemingly not caring about the circumstance you both were in. It floored you that Hyunjin wasn’t taking any of this seriously. He said he cared about the fact he was at risk of losing this role, yet his actions and attitude said otherwise. 

If looks could kill, Hyunjin would’ve been dead ten times over, yet as he looked up to meet your eyes, he returned your gaze with a humorless one, “You know, staring is rude.”

It was taking an exuberant amount of self control for you to hold it together, “I just can’t understand how you’re so relaxed about this. It’s like you want us both to get dropped from this project.”

“Like I said, I do care, but this whole arrangement isn’t so easy to do,” he said sternly, “You’re not even giving me the chance to get comfortable. You can’t just expect me to be able to act like we don’t hate each other. And pressuring me isn’t helping much either, is it?”

You bit the inside of the cheek, recognizing that Hyunjin wasn’t entirely wrong in how he was feeling. “I guess so,” was all you could manage to reply, not willing to give him the satisfaction that he was right. 

Once more, an uncomfortable, tense silence loomed over as you each waited for your food. You decided it was best to deal with this rather than forcing a conversation, perhaps it was best to let Hyunjin take the lead since he was the one struggling with this disaster. Despite the heavy atmosphere, you found your muscles slowly relaxing as time went on as your focus returned to the environment around you, how decadent each detail of the restaurant was and the false laughters of businessmen filled your ears. 

The waiter returned with both your meals in hand, grinning from ear to ear, “Alright, here’s the grilled snapper for you, sir,” he carefully laid the plate in front of Hyunjin before turning to you with a sweet smile, “And here’s the filet mignon for the beautiful Mx. Hwang.”

You noticed Hyunjin trying to hold back a teasing laugh at the waiter’s comment, even going as far to add, “They’re lovely, aren’t they?” But only you could see through the fakeness Hyunjin wore as the waiter politely agreed, causing you to kick Hyunjin hard in the shin from under the table. Hyunjin’s face winced as he thanked the waiter for the food before glaring at you, “What? You want us to act like a couple, but the moment I do something, you have a problem with it?”

You grumbled, annoyance lacing your voice, “Oh, shut up. You were being sarcastic, you asshole.”

“Oh, really? I would say our server didn’t have a clue, I’d say I’m a pretty good actor,” he smirked, picking up his fork and knife, “Let’s just enjoy our food, hm?”

You returned Hyunjin’s smirk with an insincere smile, “You’re right, it’s probably the only good thing that’ll come out this evening.” 

Hyunjin only hummed in agreement, choosing to ignore your comment as he dug into his food, you doing the same as the familiar tense silence enveloped you once more. In all honesty, this felt like it was going nowhere, it felt like this whole project was doomed from the very inception of it and Hyunjin’s stubbornness was only making this more difficult than it needed to be. The idea that you had to put your full trust and the fate of your career in someone else was too much, it was ridiculous, yet here you were, with the man you loathed the most having full control on whether this project would be a success or a blemish on your career. His lack of cooperation filled you with anxiety, yet you knew you had no choice. Patience wasn’t always your strong suit, but Hyunjin never failed to test it and you weren’t sure if you were going to survive this entire week if this was how every meeting was going to be like.

You were half way through your meal when Hyunjin cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts, “So, why did you take the project knowing I was going to be the male lead?”

You snorted at his question, “Could be asking you the same thing.”

“Well, I honestly took the role thinking you wouldn’t do it knowing it was me as the lead,” mumbled Hyunjin.

“Wow,” you stared at him with disbelief in your eyes, “You really thought I’d reject a hand delivered opportunity?” you let out a surprised laugh, “Besides, the script seemed fun. Just didn’t realize you’d be so impossible to work with.”

“I see,” responded Hyunjin as he continued to eat, causing you to raise your eyebrow, fully expecting a witty response from him in return. 

The rest of dinner went on without a word, that being the only exchange throughout the night. While it was not an enjoyable time, you and Hyunjin seemed to have agreed that the silence was far more welcomed than any bickering you two would engage in, preferring the uncomfortable peace over anything else. 

The car ride home went the same, no words other than the loud music that drummed over your incessant thoughts, anxiety crawling throughout you as you began to worry that maybe you were losing out on the biggest role of your career, all thanks to Hyunjin of all people. If this didn’t work out, this would make it impossible for you to find other roles in the industry, as rumors would inevitably spread about how difficult it was to work with you and Hyunjin. You couldn’t trust him one bit, you had no faith in him that he would be able to get over his own differences with you, ones that you still had no idea where they even spawned from. 

As soon as Hyunjin pulled up in front of your apartment, you left his car without a word, not even looking back before making your way up to your unit. You pulled out your phone as you unlocked the front door, stumbling as you dialed Chan’s number.

“Oh, Y/N! How did it go?”

“Chan, this isn’t going to work. We’re fucked.”

[emjiroki]

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: Yandere Yuuta! very dark content, blood,explicit scenes and language, depictions of death and remains, reader is over her husband very quickly

Link to pt 1

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

a/n: Hi everyone! back again with pool boy! Yuuta (though there isnt much of him being our pool boy in this one hehe) I just had to continue where we left off and it was so so fun! Happy Birthday to me and our love! hope everyone enjoys!

Likes, Reblogs, and Comments appreciated and treasured like gold

“I want you,” Yuuta panted against the skin of your shoulder, his hair dripping water rivulets down your chest as the shower head pelted him.

“You have me,” You giggled as his tip prodded against your swollen entrance. Grinding as if you hadn't gone two rounds before getting in the shower.

“No, I want you. All of you. Mind, body, and soul” He peppered kisses up your throat to punctuate his words, nibbling his teeth across your throbbing jugular, “I want to bury myself under your skin so that I can get deeper”. At the last word he gave a sharp thrust up against you, sliding into your welcome entrance as you gasped and held onto the shower wall. 

“F-Fuck” you whimpered as he stretched you, filling you up so well it made your brain foggy. Your legs were shaking as he held you tight practically molding his body to yours, hips moving shallowly to keep him fully seated in your slick heat. 

“That’s right, want you to feel me, more of me, all of me; never forget that I’m the one who makes you feel like this” He growled, moving one hand down to grasp your thigh and the other to your chest, rolling and tugging the pebbled bud beneath his fingers. 

“Yes” You moan, leaning back against his strong body as he fucked into you, your legs growing wobbly from the pleasure, “Y-Yuuta please”. 

“Just want you to cum for me, that’s all, wanna feel you one more time” He purred, the hand stimulating your nipple moving down to your clit, rubbing tight circles until he felt you clinching so tight around him. A high-pitched cry of pleasure spilled out as you reached your peak, Yuuta groaning in your ear doing nothing to quell it. He muttered a few curses against the side of your throat before swiftly pulling out, the feeling of him leaving you empty leaving you breathless. You shut the water off and stepped out, handing him a towel as you went over to where your clothes were on the counter. 

“I’ve gotta leave for work soon,” Yuuta said, running the towel over his dark hair and down his chest. Your eyes followed the cloth as he dragged it down his cut stomach to the hair at the base. The tips of your ears felt hot as you flashed your eyes back up to him.

‘Don’t get distracted’ You thought to yourself as his statement echoed through your mind.

“Sure you can't stay for just a little bit longer?” You asked, stepping to him and running your hands up his front. No matter how many times you've had him in the last six months it never seemed to be enough. Yuuta seized your hands, turning them in his grip to kiss the inside of your wrists before settling you with a look. A dark and predatory look where the light is barely casting in his eyes.

“Will he be back tonight?”. Your stomach sank but you knew he couldn't lie to him, nodding your head. 

Yuuta hated when your husband was home when he couldn't be with you. They had met once in October when you had hired the landscaping company again to close the pool up for the winter and trim the tree in the back near the shed before any weather hit again. The interaction was tense, to say the least, Yuuta on edge and tense in every muscle, teeth pinned together and jaw tight like it was wired shut, though your husband didn't understand why. Yuuta let one hand go from your wrists, the free hand moving up to cup your jaw, his thumb and index finger squishing your cheek a little.

“Are you gonna leave him? Or do I have to take you from him?” He asked, his voice sweet and tender but the look in his eyes was very serious.

“I- I want to but-”

“No, no buts if you want to I'll figure it out” he replied, a soft smile on his lips, “that's all I needed to know”.

“What do you mean?” You ask, wary and not sure if you want to know the answer to that question. He laughed softly, almost derisively.

“Don't worry your pretty little head about it, I said I'll handle it didn't I?”. 

You nodded, believing him but still not quite understanding. But you took his hand and led him back to the bedroom. 

“Honey? You home?” Your husband's voice called from downstairs. It sends a jolt of adrenaline through you, your eyes widening at Yuuta as he pulls his shirt over his head so casually. 

“I'll head out the window again,” He said, kissing your forehead quickly, “see you later”. He yanked the window open and slid his legs through, winking at you before dropping off into the flowerbed below. You made sure you heard the gate latch before shutting the window, heading down to meet your husband despite it turning a sick unwanted knot in your stomach. The perfume on his shirt when you hugged him made it worse. 

♡

‘He still there?’ Yuuta texted you later as you were making dinner, chicken baking in the oven as you stirred vegetables in the skillet.

‘Yes’ you texted back a small smile on your face when his contact of “Pool Company” popped up, ‘but he's in the shower’. 

‘Open the door’. You glanced over to the backdoor to see him looking in, a grin on his face as he waggled his fingers at you. 

“What are you doing here?” You questioned as he moved past you. 

“Wanted to see you,” He said simply with a shrug, “That so bad?” 

“With him upstairs, it is” You chided, watching as he strolled over to the stove and snatched a piece of mushroom from the skillet, scalding hot but eating it as if it were cold. 

“I’m not worried about him,” He replied, turning to you and backing you against the island.

“I’m worried,” You said quietly, squeaking as his hand when under your ass to lift you onto the cold marble of the countertop. 

“About what? If he catches us? If he catches me?” He asked, his lips so close he was nearly kissing you, his dark eyes shining like pools in the muted glow of the overtop oven light.

“Yes,” You whispered, wanting to lean in but unable to break your gaze. “I’m worried about what he would do”.

“No baby, be worried about what I would do to him,” Yuuta uttered, an eerie tone to his voice that had goosebumps rising across his skin, “if he threatened you, hurt you”. He leaned in close the next words in barely a whisper. “I’d fucking end him”. His fingers danced across your exposed neck, soft and delicate as he moved to cup your face. “Slit his throat like the pig he is and bury him beneath that pretty cherry tree outside”.

That shouldn’t turn you on, you should be running with your phone in your hand upstairs but you weren’t. Instead, your blood was running hot, your panties growing wet as he leaned you back, grabbing you under your knees to prop your feet up against his shoulders as his hands went under your dress to your panties. 

“Y-You would?” you asked, voice only a whimper as he groaned quietly at the wetness under his fingers. 

“I told you you were mine. My treasure. My wife,” He growled sinking to his knees, “The moment I saw you in that pretty little bathing suit, I knew that you were meant to be mine and mine only, I’d kill a hundred thousand pricks more worthy than him to be worshipping at your feet”.

You pressed your hand to your mouth as you gasped at the feeling of him latching onto your clit, his tongue sweeping down to taste your wetness. You knew your husband could be down any minute, any second but you couldn’t help but melt into the feeling of Yuuta’s mouth on you, licking and sucking and squeezing your thighs like it would be the last time. Though you knew it wouldn’t be, and he did too, but it didn’t do anything to quell the heat between you. You moved to tangle your fingers in his hair but he pinned it down, one of his hands moving to keep it against your stomach. The pleasure was overwhelming, the hand not pinned failing to keep the high-pitched noises from escaping as he devoured you into a crumbling mess. 

“Y-Yuuta I’m-”. A growling groan from his throat was his only reply, knowing just what you meant as your legs tensed around him. The dam broke when he plunged two fingers inside, curling against the soft spot inside of you that nearly had you shrieking, clear fluid spraying out against his lower jaw as he smirked, so pleased with himself for making a terrible mess of you. The sound of the timer ringing for the chicken had you nearly jumping out of your skin, Yuuta rose from the floor and wiped his chin on the back of his hand. 

“Dinner done?” Your husband called from the stairs.

“Impeccable timing as ever, asshole” Yuuta muttered, glaring into the darkened living room. 

“Uh yeah, yes” You replied, clearing your throat and springing down from the counter, straightening your dress, “I just have to get the plates”. 

“Pour me a glass of wine, I’ll be down in a minute” 

“Sure honey,” You said in a cheery tone, flipping the burner off for the vegetables and grabbing an oven mitt before turning to Yuuta, “Go out the back”. 

“What if I just walk out in front of him, my shirt soaked with you?” He asked, leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You wanted to melt into him, melled your body with his, and walk out the back gate right now but you moved your hands up to his head to pull him away.

“It wouldn’t be good, you look a mess,” You said amusedly.

“Wouldn’t matter much once I had his blood on me” He replied, his tone deadpan and serious. You knew he was serious. Very serious, murderous intentions swimming in his gaze, but you pushed him towards the door anyway, an almost boyish grin on his face when you slapped his ass. 

“Text me?” He asked, his hands against the doorframe preventing you from closing it.

“Of course” You replied pressing one more kiss to his cheek before he turned to disappear into the night shadows and head back to his car parked down the street. You were still looking out the back door, feeling his touch on your skin when your husband cleared his throat in the kitchen doorway. 

“Little spill?” He asked, nodding at the clear fluid he thought was water on the floor. You know you must have looked startled, like a deer in headlights but you moved over to grab a few paper towels and clean the floor. 

“Yeah just a little water,” You reassured, “Haven’t opened the wine yet, why don’t you pick out a bottle for us?”. 

“Sure,” He said, a fleeting questioning gaze in his eyes, “Everything okay? You seem a little flushed”. 

“Oh yeah everything is perfect, just a little hot in here is all,” You said, leaning up to kiss his cheek despite it making you want to puke. At least you couldn’t smell that cheap perfume this time.

He was back in the pantry where the wine cooler was when a loud crash came from the backyard, startling you into dropping the glass you were holding.

“What the hell was that?” He called, racing back into the kitchen.

“I don’t know, I dropped my glass but that sound came from the yard,” You said, looking out the large windows into the darkness. He went for the door but you grabbed his arm, pleading with him not to go out there.

“I have to check it out” He insisted. You realized you hadn’t heard the gate close when Yuuta left, a surge of fear gripping you. What if he was still out there and your husband catches him? 

He shook you off with an annoyed sound, swinging the door open and heading out with the flashlight on his phone glittering over the recently opened pool. You could see the shed from the door where you were peering, the shattered glass of the little side window shining in the grass.

And the shovel leaned up against the cherry tree like a looming omen. 

Your stomach twisted, expecting Yuuta to appear from the shadows and drive an axe into the back of your husband's head. But nothing happened, your husband looking curiously for a moment before shaking his head and returning to the house. 

“Probably just some stupid kids in the alley throwing rocks again” He snapped, clearly more irritated than worried, “I’ll patch it up tomorrow before I leave”. 

“Okay,” You whispered, gripping your hands together to keep them from shaking. 

“Let’s have dinner”. You nodded as you moved back to the oven, taking the chicken off the tray and spooning the veggies onto your plates. Your phone lit up, your ringer down so he wouldn’t notice. 

‘Did he see it?’ Yuuta’s message read. You typed back quickly.

‘Yes but he didn’t say anything’

‘That’s fine, he’ll be thinking about it’ dots appeared before another message popped up. ‘Just like I’ll be thinking about you when I’m alone in bed tonight, will you be thinking about me?’

‘Of course I will, I always do’ you replied, a soft blush on your cheeks at the thought of his dick in his hand, sweat on his face as he chased his release to the thoughts of you. 

‘Good. I love you babygirl’. Did you look like a fool smiling at your phone like this?

‘I love you too’.

“These vegetables are a little burnt” Your husband complained when you were sat at the table, your hand gripped around your fork. You were white-knuckling it, thinking vivid thoughts about flying over the pristinely set table and driving it deep into his eye. “Still love you though”. 

‘Fucking liar, why don’t you go to her house and have her make you fucking dinner’ You thought bitterly, putting on a sweet smile to hide the malice. 

“Yeah, love you too”. ‘Asshole’ Yuuta’s darkly muttered word echoed through your head. 

♡

The house was always more peaceful when your husband wasn't there. Less tense. Seemed as though the light from the sun would shine brighter through the windows, the spring breeze fresher. You were just starting the next chapter in your book, your music down low on the surround sound when you heard a vague bump from upstairs. You only paid mind for a moment before going back to your other world, trying to just relax for a while. Until you heard it again, and then the sound of your husband's pen cup falling over off his desk onto the floor. While you didn't like the idea of being the naive woman in a horror movie who decides to go investigate a mysterious sound and gets bludgeoned to death, you needed to go at least clean up the mess so he wouldn't think you were snooping through his things while he was gone. You pressed your ear to the door, hearing nothing in the room beyond, and turning the knob. The curtains were open like you remembered after you had vacuumed in here earlier and cleaned the window. But then again, you didn’t remember the window actually being open. Propped all the way where the breeze was coming through. You quickly picked the pen cup off the floor, put them back in, and set it next to his computer where he liked it. That’s when you noticed the papers on his desk.

The divorce papers.

It was obviously something he had typed up himself, grammar and spelling errors abound and had not yet been notarized by his lawyer. Your heart sank even as you felt like fire was boiling in your gut, a red veil of rage taking over you as you tried to breathe. How could he do this to you? All you had ever done was take care of him. Love him. Through all of his dumb shit and failures. A sharp scream was echoing in the room before you realized it was yours, your fists balling the stupid papers up and shredding them into little pieces, making white confetti across the office room floor. You marched over to the window and slammed it shut, not caring if the neighbors had heard the animalistic noise erupting from you. They never paid attention to the neighbor down the street shooting his gun to “keep his mortgage down” so why would this disturb them? You stomped down the stairs and snatched your phone off the coffee table, slapping your book across the room in a fit of rage as you hit Yuuta’s contact. It rang only once before his cheery voice sounded from the other end.

“Hi baby, what’s up?” 

“That bastard wants to divorce me” You snapped, biting your tongue to keep the molten hot tears at bay. Yuuta was silent for a moment as you heard him put his truck in park. 

“Did he tell you?” He asked.

“No, I found papers he had sloppily typed up probably while he was drunk when I went into his office,” You said, “He hasn’t gone to his lawyer yet but might soon”. He was quiet again, a deep silence though you could hear his breathing. 

“What am I going to do?” You asked, your tone pleading as you felt your world beginning to rock and crash around you in pieces. 

“Nothing. Don’t say a word to him, go about your normal routine as you would every day and act like you know nothing” He replied, his voice sounding thin as glass, “It’s for the best now”. 

‘For the best now’ those words rattled around in your frazzled brain like a marble in a tin can. You took a deep breath.

“Okay,” Your tone wobbled, tears flowing down your cheeks now, “Can you come over? Please?”. 

“I can’t baby, not right now,” He replied, sounding as if he was pained just by the sound of your crying, “I’ll be there tonight though”.

“But he-”

“I’ll be there tonight” He insisted, “Now do as I said and go about your day, remember, act normal. Like nothing is wrong even though it is, keep strong for me love and I promise I’ll fix it”. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Don’t worry about what I mean and listen to what I’m saying. I’ll fix it, you understand? I’ll fix you so you won’t even remember what that fucking bastard looked like and I get to be the one to put a ring on your finger. I love you, darling, so much more than anyone else would be able to”.

“I love you too,” You said, wiping the tears from your cheeks and taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. 

“That’s my girl, I’ll see you tonight”. You both hung up at the same time, your hands still shaking. God how badly you wanted to go around and smash everything. Light his shirts on fire with him inside of them and make him eat the broken glass from your picture frames but you didn’t. Calmly lighting a candle and going back upstairs to meticulously gather every piece of the shredded document and flush them, making sure every piece was gone before vacuuming the room again to be sure. You would deal with the potential fallout of him not finding the papers later. Much later. More than likely days later after he’s gotten his rocks off with that whore of his a few times. Doing a little gardening helped take your mind off of this situation. Viciously shredding the weeds from your flowers and imagining it was his vocal cords, the rich black soil on your hands his blood. You giggled as you smeared the dirty mess down both cheeks, resisting the urge to put your fingers to your mouth knowing it wasn’t what your vivid imagination was pushing forth. Normal. Be normal. Taking a shower was normal, watching the dirt run down the drain along with the soap bubbles was normal. Normal was nice. Sometimes. 

The one thing you weren’t expecting that night was for the police to be knocking on your door, a sullen look on their faces. 

“Ma’am I’m sorry but we have some very unfortunate and probably devastating news involving your husband,” the man in front said, his partner looking down and away, fidgeting with his utility belt. 

“What? What’s happened?” You asked, your blood running cold even as you pulled your robe tighter around you. 

“Your husband was involved in a motor vehicle accident, he seemed to have lost control on the interstate and collided head-on with a semi-truck I’m sorry but he was found dead at the scene”. You crumbled to your knees, sobs wracking your body as your hands pressed to your face. The policeman’s hand was warm as it rested against your shoulder, a kind gesture to console the grieving widow.

“I’m so sorry for your loss but you’re his next of kin and we need you to identify his remains, we can take you down to the coroner's office if you’d like”.

“No, no that’s alright, I can drive” You insisted, moving away from his hand, “just let me get dressed”. 

♡

It was a good fifteen-minute drive across town, the building looking so lonely and dim in the dark of late night, the smell inside steril and chilling. The coroner was a nice man, older with graying hair that was left and kind eyes as he led you into the back, pulling the sheet down to showcase what was left of your husband. His skin was charred black, not recognizable at all with the exposed jaw bone and missing bottom teeth as if he had smashed against the steering wheel as he spun out of control. They had forced his arm back into place despite the obvious signs that it had been broken too. Thankfully the nice man had only pulled it down a small portion, not showing nearly everything as your stomach curled in on itself. 

“That-That’s him” You whispered, looking at the gold ring on his left hand, the intricate carvings that you had ordered for him glittering under the buzzing lights, “I’d know that ring anywhere”.

“I’m very sorry, thank you for taking the time to do this,” The man sighed, scrubbing the back of his slowly balding head as if trying to stimulate growth, “We had nothing else to go on except the ID we found”. 

“There wasn’t anything in the car besides that?” You questioned, thinking they would have been able to run the plates or something.

“There wasn’t anything left, a total loss, couldn’t even tell what color paint was on it before since the gas tank blew but they found his wallet blown out into the road,” He sighed again, shaking his head, “This will be ruled as an accident I’m sure, just waiting for toxicology reports now to rule anything out”.

“He always liked to drive fast, it scared me so often and I begged him so many times to slow down,” You said, tears beginning to well up again. A good show. Normal. 

“Was he abusive?” the man asked, concern on his face even as he looked you up and down in your tight jeans. 

“No, nothing like that,” You said quickly, “just reckless”. 

He nodded, pulling the sheet back over your husband's remains. He thanked you once again for coming out, bidding you goodnight before cringing at his words and silently walking to the back again. Driving back home was… strange. You didn’t feel the need to cry. To pull into the dive bar for a drink. Just roll your window down to feel air flowing through and ride in silence, radio off and not thinking about turning it on. As you expected, the house was dark when you pulled into the driveway. You were about to hit call on Yuuta’s contact when you opened the door but the sound of ice clinking in the kitchen caught your attention, seeing the overhead oven light on through the doorway. There he was, sipping on a glass of your husband’s fine brandy while leaning against the kitchen counter, white t-shirt tight and dark blue jeans cuffed a little at the bottom. 

“There you are love,” He said with a smile, “Welcome home”. You didn’t say anything, just dropping your purse to the floor and going over to him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into his throat. He made a soft humming noise in the back of his throat. 

“What happened?”

“He's dead,” you said shakily.

“How?”

“Car accident. The idiot drove into a semi-truck” You sighed, squeezing Yuuta tighter.

“How lucky” He replied, a smirk in his tone, “Glad I got the right car”. You pulled away from him slightly, looking up into his face.

“What?”.

“Well, shit there were a lot of fancy black cars a blowhard like him would drive, just glad I got the right one and not someone innocent, you know?” He shrugged, taking another slow sip of the brandy. Your eyes widened, your heart thumping.

“You didn’t” You whispered, your hands lingering on his waist.

“I did. Clipped the brakes while he was getting in his little toy’s car for lunch” He confirmed, one hand going under your chin, his fingers cool against your skin, “I must say she’s not near as pretty as you, definitely a downgrade”. You stepped away from his touch, your brain trying to process everything. He actually did it. 

“I- I didn’t know-” You stammered before his airy laugh cut you off.

“Oh but you did though darling, I told you, didn’t I? That I would take care of it” He said, a soft smile on his lips, “I told you that you were mine, and now you are, forever”. He stepped closer to you, his hand moving from your chin down to your waist and holding you tight against him. 

“My love, my wife,” His breath was sweet with brandy as he leaned to graze his lips against your jaw, lifting the glass to your mouth, bidding you to take a drink. The liquor was strong, burning your throat with an oaky finish that lifted through your nose, making your eyes water a little.

"Are you scared of me now?" He asked, a concerned look on his face. You shook your head, a soft 'No' on your tongue before he smiled.

"Good, that's good".

Yuuta moved one arm down to just under your ass, lifting you with ease, the brandy glass in the other hand, and began to carry you. Up the stairs into your bedroom, shutting the door with his foot. Muted moonlight spilled through the slit in the closed curtains, casting him in an almost ethereal glow as he set you down on the bed and the glass on your nightstand. A soft flick of a lighter startled you as you watched him light the two candles near your lamp, moving over to the one on the dresser and pressing the flame to the wick there too. 

“That’s better,” He said, almost as if just saying it to himself as he stripped off his shirt and turned back to you, “You know, I’ve fucked you here many times in the last few months but this time it feels particularly special”. He helped you remove your sweater, and then your jeans, leaving you in only your underwear with no bra. It felt like being an animal under a predator's gaze as he drank you in, his dark eyes tracing unseen patterns across your skin in the dancing candlelight, his fingers tracing them. 

“Let me try something” He spoke before he moved his hand over to the brandy glass, fishing out an ice cube and holding it in his fingers for a moment. You gasped when it touched your skin, goosebumps rising as he traced a freezing line along your stomach, up your sternum, and under the swell of each breast.

“This okay?” He asked, that soft sweet look he reserved for only you warming your chest. You nodded.

“I want to hear it baby” He stated, letting the ice melt in his fingers against your skin and roll down your sides to the bed. 

“Y-Yes, feels good” You replied, whimpering at the feeling of it moving again. Over your nipples this time, already hard from the chill on your skin but seeming only to get more sensitive. Your hips bucked with a soft moan at the feel of his warm mouth latching to them, one and then the other. Laving each one with attention before dragging his tongue down to trace the waterline he had made. Yuuta moved down to your panties, tugging them off and throwing them to the floor as if they offended him by even touching you. 

“Already so wet for me,” He groaned, chest heaving a little as if he was panting, “So good to me”. The moment you felt him pressing against you in his jeans, cock straining hard against the denim you knew you wanted to change positions. 

“Wait Yuuta I- I want you in my mouth” You practically whined, moving your knee up to rub against his bulge. You were shameless in your need for him. The need to just melt into him and forget all about this shit day despite the end of being caused by him. But maybe that was the highlight of the day. Your husband would have left you probably high and dry, moved that floozy into your house, the home you created through all of his downsides, and sent you to live in that seedy motel on the other side of town. This could be a new beginning, a fresh start of something beautiful and freeing. Your new normal. 

“Eager are we?” He joked as he turned over, scooting up to the pillows and reclining back, letting you take your time in unbuttoning his jeans and dragging the zipper down, a soft gasp escaping his lips as you kissed down from his bellybutton to his happy trail leading into his briefs. You would never be over just how pretty his cock was. Pale skin fleshed red at the tip with veins racing up the side, arching up as if it was just as ready to be in your mouth as you were ready to feel his weight on your tongue. A lude moan vibrated against his length as you took the tip between your lips, feeling his precum melt against your tongue as you ran it against the sensitive head, taking more in your mouth as he involuntarily bucked his hips.

“S-Shit baby, feel s’ good” Yuuta growled, fisting the pillow beneath his head as you went lower, feeling the head bump the back of your throat with at least two inches to go. Drool was coming more freely now, running from your lips down his shaft and making the glide easier as you pushed to take him as deep as he could go. Your head was dizzy with his scent, the taste of his precum, and the pretty sounds he was making. Grunts and moans spilling from his parted lips as he struggled to keep his eyes open to watch you. But he kept his grabby hands up away, letting you go at your own pace and fall into a fuzzy pleasured headspace, your eyes lidded as you sucked languidly against him. He was twitching against your tongue, your hand going to his balls as they contracted with every suck and pull of your mouth. You whined when he pulled you off, giving him a pitiful teary eyes look with a mix of spit and precum on your chin. 

“Come on now, don’t give me that look” Yuuta chided with a soft smile, kissing you deeply and licking the wet off your chin before kicking off his jeans, “Just want to cum inside of you”. He flipped your positions with ease, moving you onto your front as you arched your back.

“That’s it, that’s my girl” He groaned, fingers spreading your dripping pussy so he could get a good look, your wetness glistening against the candlelight. A shiver ran up your spine as traced his tongue down your folds, suckling on your clit till you were whimpering before slapping your ass and sitting up behind you. He teased the head against you for a moment, letting you back up against him in desperation.

“Y-Yuuta” You stammered, wanting him inside you so desperately.

“Yes, my love?”

“Want you inside, wanna feel you” You pleaded, burying your face against the softness of your mattress. His hand went to your hair, holding just tight enough and pulling your head up so he could whisper against your ear.

“Say please” He grunted, popping the head in and out for a moment to make you shake.

“Pl-ease” You moaned, your eyes crossing as he bottomed out in one thrust, his thickness stretching you so good. It was that moment that you looked over at your husband’s nightstand, seeing the picture of you on your wedding day, looking happy for probably the last time in a long time and you couldn’t help the tears that welled up. Would you miss him? The old version, the caring version yes. But not the man he turned out to be. The true version that slunk in and out of the shadows and destroyed everything you had built. For him. You gasped as Yuuta snatched the picture off the table, pulling out of you swiftly and turning you over. 

“I don’t want you to cry baby,” He shushed, leaning down to kiss the tears from your cheeks, “not over him ever again, he’s not here to hurt you anymore, I made sure of that didn’t I?”. You nodded a soft apology on your lips. 

“Don’t be sorry, never be sorry for being human for me” He reassured as he pressed his forehead to yours. 

Your eyes widened as he gripped the frame in one hand until the glass broke, taking a piece before throwing it with all of his force against the closed door. 

“We all cry. We all bleed” He breathed, taking the piece in his hand and dragging it in a short line across his palm, bringing the freshly bleeding wound to your mouth. You flinched as his blood dropped against your lips before you opened them, tasting the metallic tang as your cheeks flushed. He did the same to your hand, the sting making you flinch again before he pressed it to his mouth, his tongue licking against the wound and smearing your blood across his tongue and lips. Yuuta linked your hands together before pressing them down beside your head and kissing you, groaning at the warmth.

“Now we’re in each other's bodies, inner mingling and thriving. Giving each other life” He said, moving your legs up on his shoulders before thrusting in again, “I love you to madness, you know that?”.

“I love you too Yuuta,” you whimpered, the feeling of him inside of you completely canceling out the sting in your hand, “More than anything”. 

“Oh baby you don’t know how happy I am to hear that,” He groaned, folding you down so far he could reach your lips, “I’m gonna fill this sweet pussy till your dripping”. 

The bed was creaking with the force of his hips, your moans getting louder by the minute as he pulled him down with your free arm across his shoulders, wanting him closer. Needing him closer to feel his heat against you. The sweat rolling down his forehead, the flush to his cheeks, the whimpering growling moans spilling from him into the candlelit room were even prettier than you could have imagined.

“I’m g-gonna cum beautiful,” He stuttered, his hips beginning to lose rhythm as you dripped around him, milking him so sweetly he couldn’t keep his head straight. He moved his fingers down to your clit, rubbing it in circles till he could feel you gripping tighter around him, “Cum with me please”. 

Your chest was heaving and heart thudding as you mewled and whined, toes curling and thighs burning as your release licked flames up your spine. Your names erupted from each other's mouths as you climaxed together, his cock filling you so deeply that you wondered briefly if you would end up pregnant after this. You were so warm inside as he collapsed on you, allowing your legs down as he curled against your body, keeping himself seated snuggly inside of you. Yuuta’s lips were soft against your skin as he kissed you everywhere he could reach, his hands clutching at you and holding you so close it felt as if your bodies truly were one and the same. You stayed against the pillows as he reached down to his pants on the floor before curling back up next to you and taking your hand. He pulled your wedding band off and tossed it over his shoulder, making you giggle before you realized what he was doing. The ring he slid onto your finger was beautiful, a delicate gold band with a proud diamond in the middle surrounded by dark garnets, delicate but elegant.

“Marry me?” Yuuta asked, his eyes sparkling in the dark candlelight as if there were stars dipped in the surface. You smiled widely, throwing your arms around his neck.

“Yes! Of course I will”. This felt right. Normal. Everything aligned the way it should be. Maybe obsession could be normal.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 10

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Happy Christmas Eve.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

A mess of wrapping paper and gift bags litter the floor around you. Their contents are just as neglectfully strewn across the room, forgotten for the desecration bartered with their giving. Reality blurs between the three men as you’re passed between them, bent, contorted, twisted exactly how they want you.

Your thighs quiver as you’re left to fall onto your ass, heaving as you lean against the end of the section. Fuzzy-brained and bleary-eyed you watch a dark figure bend and the crinkle of paper triggers something in you. The urge to flee courses up from your stomach though you don’t have the strength to heed it.

“Mine,” Andy declares and drops a box beside your foot. You blink and don’t move.

“What the hell, dude? You’re up our asses about rules–” Lloyd challenges.

“Stop whining,” Andy growls back.

You shudder as you remain paralysed in the fog. The box hits your leg as it’s kicked towards you. You reach shakily, not sitting forward, and drag it into your lap. Your hands work without seeing. You pull free a thick ribbon and flick the lid off with your thumb. You feel the soft fabric inside, cashmere maybe? You wouldn’t know.

“Come on, honey,” Andy has you by the arm in an instant.

As he hauls you to your feet, the box and sweater falling forgotten from your lap, he stops. You’re caught in the vice of his grip as his arm stretches past another figure standing almost between you. Andy squeezes harder as he flinches, Lloyd jabbing a finger in his chest. You blink as you struggle to process the scene.

“If all rules are off, then you better not say fucking shit,” Lloyd snarls.

Andy shoves him away, ignoring him as he guides you back until your legs touch the sectional. You have only the gold medallion necklace and stockings left on you. The socks have rumpled below your knees unevenly as the gold charm sticks to your sweaty flesh.  

He eases you down onto your back and you sigh as your body relaxes instinctively. You’re not thinking straight. You’re clinging to the hope that this is over, or close too. You can’t take much more. They can’t do this all day.

Andy pulls off his sweater as he puffs. His exasperation tinges the air thickly. The other men loom behind him grumbling.

You wince as Andy pushes your knees wide. You try to close them but he plants one of his own between them. You whimper as your swollen cunt throbs. 

“Please,” you beg weakly, reaching to cover your pelvis.

“It’s okay, honey,” Andy sets a hand next to your head to hold himself over you, “we’re getting to the good part.”

“Fucking lame…” Ransom mutters.

You wriggle and put your other hand on Andy’s chest, “please,” you repeat.

“Shh, honey, I’m gonna be good to you,” he feels along your thigh and your insides clench. It’s not over.

You could sob as he touches your folds. You’re overwrought to the point of delirium. He slides between your lips, still slick from your last falling apart. He rubs your clit until you squeak, taking it as an invitation to do more. He dips his fingers into you and back out, repeating the act as your walls squeeze him each time.

He hushes you again as you babble. He pulls his thick fingers out and spreads your cunt wide. He shifts, jarring his hips around as he drops to an elbow. How breath scalds down your face and neck as he puffs through his nose.

He pokes his tip between his knuckles, grunting as he tilts his hips. It’s then you realise what he means to do. He stretches you around his head and you whine as you sink your nails into the furry muscles along his chest. You press your other hand to his hip, repeating again your pathetic plea.

“Always taking his fucking time,” Lloyd hisses, “gonna be all day before he gets his balls wet.”

“Is that good, honey?” Andy pets your forehead as he inches into you. 

You bed your legs and squeak. You can barely breathe as you strain to take him in. Your already tender cunt thrums around his intrusion. His small rocking motion jostles you as he tries to ease deeper and deeper. He stops halfway as you cry out, the resistance of your body trapping him.

“Just relax,” he coos as he frames your face, kissing your forehead, “relax,” he coaxes, hips still in rhythm as he battles past the barrier, “honey, I’m being… nice.”

He grunts and snaps his hips, breaking past your last defenses. You wail as you push on his pelvis, still trying to stop him. Your hand trails over to his stomach, slightly soft and as thick as the rest of him. There’s an extra layer of fat there unlike the other men and their firm abs.

“I’m fucking bored,” Lloyd growls but you can’t track his movement as Andy blocks out the room with his body.

You grit your teeth as he reaches his limit, well past your own. You arch your back and feet as you bring both your hands to his shoulders. Your eyes wet and roll back as you garble senselessly. You want him to stop. He said he wouldn’t let them hurt you but here he is, hurting you himself.

Andy’s arm slips under your neck, propping your head up as he covers your mouth with his own. That kiss disgusts you. A manufactured gesture of affection all while he violates you. You want to bite him and spit in his face. You don’t have the energy, you just let it happen. You let his tongue slip inside, you let him split you in two.

There’s another crumple of paper. You don’t react. You’re limp, nearly lifeless beneath Andy as he fucks you with long strokes. Your eyes slit just enough to see as something lands beside you on the couch. Another torn remnant of wrapping paper.

“What do you know?” Lloyd clucks, “it’s one of mine.”

There’s a slap of flesh that has Andy ramming harder into you as he parts from your mouth and grunts.

“Come on, big boy, turn her over.”

“Fuck off,” Andy sneers.

“This isn’t the deal. Turn her over,” Lloyd insists, “it’s two against one if you wanna fuck around and find out.”

Ransom shadow lurks closer as your eyes drift. Andy sighs and curls his arm tighter around your neck while hooking the other around your waist. He sinks down into you and turns you over with him, bringing himself under you. The hard zipper of his open fly bites into you.

You lay bent over him, your head lolling over his shoulder as you shiver with the new flow of cool air across your back. There’s the crinkle of plastic behind you. You don’t care. It can’t be worse if you don’t know what’s going on.

Andy frames your hip and keeps you moving on him. Your legs are weak and jittery as you straddle him. His other hand comes to your chin and he lifts your head, holding you above him as he once more draws you into a desperate kiss. A kiss laced in denial and delusion.

There’s a pinch on your ass and you squeal into Andy’s mouth. The sharp tweak is followed by a jarring slap across the flesh. Lloyd snickers and a cold liquid oozes between your cheeks. You clench at the slimy liquid leaking around your puckered hole.

“I got the flavoured stuff, pussy cat,” he clicks a cap as your ears prick, your eyes searching side to side.

Lloyd’s fingers slip between your cheeks and he circles around your hole. You whimper but Andy keeps you locked in, hand curling around your hip as his other stretches across your throat. The tickle against your tight ring turns to a stinging burn as a thick finger pushes inside, wiggling as it tests your resistance.

You nearly bite Andy as your eyes well. He pushes you away from his mouth as you heave and struggle to bear through the fiery pain radiating from your ass. Lloyd pushes to his first knuckle, then his second, and finally the last. You eke out tiny noises as you struggle to catch your breath.

Andy hushes as he rocks from below, still fucking you, still using you despite this new trespass. You dig your nails into his chest, arms trapped between your bodies, and quiver.

“H-urts,” you babble, “please…”

“Shhh, you’ll be okay,” Andy rasps.

Lloyd snickers as he pulls his finger out and lines up a second. You squeeze your eyes shut and tense as he forces in two that time. He’s less patient as he bulldozes inside, wiggling his fingers inside you once more. He thrusts in and out, the flames licking hotter and hotter.

He pulls his fingers all the way out and licks you instead. The sensation is almost soothing as he laps at your hole. He greedily swirls his tongue, pausing to poke his fingers in a few times, then resumes his loud, gross licking. 

The razing sensation of Lloyd’s tending mingles with the pressure of Andy inside you. Your walls twitch as you feel the coil winding tight. No, it shouldn’t feel good. Stop, please stop. 

Lloyd buries his fingers, keeping them deep, tilting his hand against you as he curls his knuckles. You can feel it in your cunt along with Andy’s steady motion. You bubble over and whine as you cum, both holes spasming as you succumb to the wave of rolling pleasure.

Andy growls as Lloyd snickers and slides his fingers free. You sense a shift behind you but the grip on your neck keeps you from looking. 

“Go for it,” Lloyd chuckles, “loosened her up nice and good for you.”

Another drizzle of cold lube drips down to your now burning hole. You flinch as two hands spread over your cheeks and pull them wide. Ransom pushes your ass together before smacking it. The impact scours your flesh.

He hums and slides his dick between your cheeks. His rigid length glides between the oily flesh as he leans over you, one hand on the armrest to keep himself on his feet. He rocks as he slickens his dick from tip to base before lining up with your hole.

He pushes the head of his dick against you, grunting as he leans his weight into you. You let out a shrill cry as he forces his way inside. Even just his tip is enough to break you. Tears spring free and stream down your cheeks.

He jerks his hips, ramming deeper than you’re ready for. You wail and grasp Andy’s wrist as he nearly chokes your voice out of you. Your eyes meet his, blurry with your agony, but you see the glint in his irises. That tic in his cheek. He’s lost in what he wants. You see him clearly. Selfish, a liar.

Ransom puts his knee on the end of the section as he thrusts again, deeper and deeper. As he does, Andy moves you between them in tandem. The crush of them around you is suffocating. The air is sticky and roiling around you. 

Your heart hammers as terror takes over. There is no pleasure to be found anymore. Your chest feels ready to burst as you pant through your constricted throat. Your head pounds as you hyperventilate through your nostrils.

Your hand is pulled away from Andy’s shoulder. Your fingers are once more closed around a rigid length, held closed by another to pump up and down. Your eyes flutter and flip back into your head. Your ears buzz and your body grows heavy. You feel yourself fading as you can’t get enough air into your lungs.

Ransom ruts harder from behind, jolting you into Andy. The fullness is painful and all-consuming. They work together, torturing your insides as one slides in only for the other to slide in. You are overflowing and overstimulated.

Your arm shakes and aches as Lloyd keeps it moving. He groans as he steps closer, his shadow cast over you. He grabs your chin to turn your hand above Andy’s knuckles. He groans as he keeps your hand moving around him. He grunts and aims his tip down, spurting all down your face, from your forehead, down the bridge of your nose, to your chin.

He drags his throbbing head through the glaze of his cum. He smears it all around and pushes his tip against your lips. He snickers meanly as he pushes between your lips. You taste the salty repugnance and nearly gag. You’re too tired, too weak to be disgusted. 

He fucks your mouth casually as Andy keeps you in place for him. He relents only as you feel him starting to go soft. He slides out and steps back, letting out an emphatic sigh of satisfaction. He taps your cheek with a cluck.

“Look at the little pussy cat,” he mocks. “Not so fucking smiley now.”

You blink and your head falls over Andy’s grip. Then the rest of you slackens. You’re a doll, lifeless between the men, a thing to be played with. You welcome your descent into the abyss, your only escape from this hell.

[nanqmies]

Venom || Tsuchigomori

cw: cnc , biting, slight blood, predator/prey, aphrodisiac, bondage ?, manhadling, sadism, anal, masterbation, no prep or lube, hallucinations, overstim, manhandling, creampie, amab!reader, very short, i think that's all?

wc: 0.5k

a/n: i researched different spiders and their venom just for this and i hate spiders!! theres basically ZERO fics about my man so i need to fix that.. anyways i'm writing my pantalone fic and i'm finishing up a quick lil drabble for zhongli.. but please enjoy my work!~

nsfw under the cut~

Since Tsuchigomori is part spider we can assume he has spider-like tendencies too other than extra arms/teeth. Everyone knows how spiders catch their food, the insect gets trapped in the web and gets bitten and filled with venom. We don’t know what exact species Tsuchigomori is but I think he could be any different species if you write it correctly. The phoneutria spider has a hallucinogenic venom that slows their prey and causes them to hallucinate and sedate their movements, and we all know Tsuchigomori’s true nature is being very sadistic and teasing so I think that’d be a perfect spider for him.. listen…

Imagine Tsuchigomori sinking his sharp teeth into you and injecting a small amount of his venom into you, forcing you to run and escape from him, maybe in the woods or even in his huge library right, he gives you a head start to be just to make the chase more rewarding. your body is weak from the toxins in your bloodstream so you’re all dizzy and wobbly walking into walls and shelves of his boundary that he obviously knows like the back of his hand. he can hear how you pant as you run, sweat dripping down your brow while you sprint. The exit seems so close that you can feel it.. reaching out to the doorknob just for a sticky thread of web to wrap around your fingers, You’re pulling away trying to free yourself but of course, you don’t :( He knows you can barely think with the strong aphrodisiac flowing through you.

you’re stuck, tied up in a thick silk web not able to move yourself out, senses heightened at the lack of touch, your body covered in sweat. Tsuchigomori finally lining himself up at your rim, imagine him fucking you at a fast pace, the tip of his cock roughly hitting the sensitive spot inside, the harsh pleasure bringing tears to your eyes. His hand leading downwards to your abdomen to hold your throbbing length is his palm, stroking your dick to match his fast past. Sharply rutting his hips on your ass filling you with his thick sperm, your tummy feels full and warm, whining when he pulls out. tsuchigomori’s teeth sink into your shoulder, shuddering while you feel him inject you once again, the knot in your stomach finally bursting as you cum all over his thin fingers, cooing gently at the sight. ^^

he’ll keep fucking his seed into you filling your ass with his hot finish. slowly the toxins flowing through your veins are too much, you can barely move, barely able to run away til he just pins you to the hard floor and fucks you til you can't walk anymore, his name repeatedly leaving your lips. You’re too weak to push him off and you end up letting him have his fill with you until he feels you’ve taken enough.

the aftercare is amazing OBVIOUSLY!! he’ll hold your limp frame in his arms and kiss your cheek gently, whispering how good you were and that he’ll make it up to you tomorrow. For now, he’ll run you a warm bath and kiss every beautiful bruise he left on your skin, marks that show his love and adoration for you. Tsuchigomori certainly appreciates how much trust you have in him, allowing him to do such a scene that could end badly. He’ll end up putting you to bed, laying your head on his chest. He really couldn’t ask for more.

© nanqmies 2023

please do not translate, steal or repost my work.

reblogs and feedback appreciated!

[billlydear]

BASIC BIOLOGY - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART ONE) | PART TWO | PART THREE

word count: 4926 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list

Summary: you're paired with billy for a biology project. you only visit his house once, but it's enough for you to understand why he doesn't want you to come over again. when he starts showing up more and more in your life, you realize that it's basic biology: you were made for him, and he was made for you.

Contents: gn!reader (let me know if i made a mistake on that anywhere!), the climax is a scene that's based on 2.8 (?) where billy finds out that max is missing, and neil shoves him into the closet and slaps him. it's not word-for-word, it's about a different scenario, but it's the same fight. please don't read this if it'll trigger you. fluff, angst, eventual happy ending.

A/N: i hope that you enjoy this! it's been a brainworm of mine for a while, and i'm thrilled to have the first part finished. let me know what you think! I honestly think that this could just be read as a one-shot, so don't let the 'part one' deter you 😅

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

To say that you’re not thrilled about your partner assignment for this biology project is an understatement. Billy Hargrove, said partner, is smoking out the window, and you’re not even sure if he’s heard that you’re partners yet. The most he gives you is a steady glance from across the room, but you think that he might have just felt you burning a hole in the side of his head with your imploring gaze. 

When you’re all released to plan with your partners he makes no move to stand. He only curls his lips tighter around the cigarette and sucks down smoke.

You bite the bullet and stand, clutching your assignment sheet in your hands that are growing sweaty with nerves.

“Hi,” You supply lamely, taking the seat next to him that’s been vacated by his previous seatmate, “I guess we’re partners, then.”

“I guess.” He drawls, tilting his head towards the window to let smoke billow from between his lips. “So, what, you wanna come to mine?”

You freeze. He’s more forward than you’d expected. “Uh,” You thumb through the notes you’d taken, the project rubric, “Like- like today? After school?”

“Yeah,” He hangs his arm out the window to snuff the cigarette out on the sil, “My folks won’t be home ‘til late. We’ll have time to work.”

“Okay,” You agree cautiously, glancing over at his empty rubric sheet, concerningly devoid of notes, “Uh, what’s your address?”

“I’ll just drive you,” He glances at the clock, showcasing three minutes to dismissal, “I’ve gotta take my stepsister home too, though, so we’ll pull into the middle school first.”

“Oh. Thank you,” You blink, fingers curling tight around your papers, “I’ll, uh- go get my stuff.”

You rush back to your seat to pack your bag with a strange haze over your thoughts. Everyone knew Billy, what he wanted, what he did. He was notoriously forward, and though he had been straight to the point, you hadn’t felt like... prey. Still, something tugged at the pit of your stomach, a warning to be careful.

The bell rings and you turn, finding a pair of worn boots in your line of sight. You glance up at the wearer, finding Billy already waiting for you.

“Uh, sorry,” You stammer, rushing to stand and subsequently hitting your head on the desk, “Fuck-!”

“Jesus,” Billy chuckles, and you’re worried you’ll analyze the sound and find components of mockery in it, “Careful.”

“It’s fine,” You hiss, but before you can rub at the spot you’d hit, Billy’s hand is there, mussing your hair and pushing you forwards, towards the door of the class. It’s something you’d do to your clumsy younger brother, and it feels odd coming from the chain smoking California kid everyone talks about.

“My stepsister’s out in twenty,” He informs you, a presence on your left as you walk out the front doors of the school, “So we’ve got, like, fifteen minutes to talk about our plan, if you want.”

“That’s good,” You hum, trailing after him to an impressively flashy car, “I think we should just draw everything. I know she said we could use clay, but that costs more, and I’ve already got colored pencils.”

“Fine by me,” He makes for the passenger door first, throwing it open and gesturing for you to get in, “You can put your bag in the back.”

When you’re seated, he shuts the door for you, and you’re oddly grateful for the gesture. It’s kind, and once more, out of character for the stereotypes you’ve heard about him. There’s a tense few seconds of silence in the camaro as he crosses to the other side, and your cheek finds its way between your teeth. But once he gets in and starts the car up, the stereo blares to life with a mixtape you’re sure he’s made himself.

“Sorry,” He grunts, reaching for the dial, “We can talk.”

“It’s fine,” You shake your head, “I don’t mind music.”

Though he cranks the dial back up, it’s not all the way, and the music becomes background noise to the shuffling of papers in your lap.

“So,” You start, thumbing through notes and ideas, “Like I said before, clay is difficult to work with, and messy, plus we’d have to model it and let it dry, and I think leaving clay unattended in my house would result in a disaster. And if we just draw it instead, they’re simple shapes and there’s nothing too complicated to draw, whereas clay would be harder to sculpt. And-”

“Okay, okay! Let’s just draw it,” Billy chuckles again, checking his rear-view mirrors for oncoming cars as he peels out of the parking lot, “If you wanna draw it then we’ll draw it.”

“Oh. Okay.” You sit back with a huff, unsure whether to be indignant because you were cut off or grateful that you seemed to be getting along.

“If you don’t have your colored pencils with you I’m sure my stepsister has some,” He theorizes, “But maybe you should ask her. If I ask her I’ll get one jammed into my eye.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “She’s, uh- spirited, then?”

“Mean-spirited.” Billy drawls, turning a bit harder than he should down a residential street on the way to the middle school, “She sucks.”

You’re sure that Billy wouldn’t be going out of his way to pick her up from school if she sucked. Or at least, if she sucked all the time. You’re well aware siblings have their feuds, but when she runs up to the car with a skateboard in her hands, you know he’s bluffing. If he really disliked her, she could have skated home. Now you know he’s softer than he lets on, but you keep it to yourself, smiling awkwardly up at her when she pulls open your door without looking first.

“Backseat, dipshit,” Billy scoffs, “I’ve got company.”

Company. It sounds like a dirty word, at least, coming from Billy who’s company typically consisted of girls spread eagle over the hood. But you reach for your seatbelt, “I can sit in the back, if you want?”

“No.” He pushes your hand away from the buckle, nudging it into your lap, “She’s younger and she’s annoying. Backseat, dipshit.”

With a huff she slams the door, and you’re suddenly not sure that you’ll avoid a colored pencil to the eye, either. Billy’s peeling out of the parking lot before she’s even buckled her seatbelt, and she sends him a nasty glare through the rearview mirror, one that you’re sure has the power to burn a hole through his head.

“So, uh,” You turn slightly in your seat, meeting eyes with the disgruntled middle schooler, “What’s your name?”

“Maxine.” Billy drawls, at the same time she snaps, “Max,”.

“Max?” You echo cautiously, and she snaps out of her glare at Billy to size you up. She seems relieved, almost taken aback that you’d listened to her instead of her stepbrother. She nods, and her lips curl in something that you’ll take as a smile, even if it’s barely perceptible.

“I think I’ve seen you around,” You muse, “You go to the arcade, right?”

“Yeah,” She nods, “You... you wear the green converse, right?”

“That’s me,” You laugh, raising your leg and lifting the hem of your pants to showcase the olive green sneakers.

“You know what shoes they wear?” Billy sneers from the front, glancing back at her through the mirror. 

Her face flushes as she ducks it down to stare at her lap, and you’re quick to swat gently at his shoulder, “Be nice!”

He looks at the hand you’d used bewilderedly, and Max bites back an amused smirk.

You’re nervous for a moment, afraid you’d cracked some ancient rift between the two, but Billy just clenches his jaw, shooting her another glare through the mirror and turning down a side street into a residential neighborhood.

Though he’s entered new territory, he doesn’t slow down. He’s going fast enough to pummel any unfortunate child playing in the street, and your stomach twists uneasily as he only speeds up.

“Billy,” Your voice is cautious, anxious even, “Can you... slow down? There’s too many kids here, it’s making me nervous.”

“I won’t hit anyone,” He assures you, though it does little to calm you, “I know what I’m doing.”

“Maybe you- don’t!” You tense as a toddler veers too close to the street where he’s playing with a ball on his front lawn, your heart racing as he wobbles safely back towards his house, “Please, Billy?”

He doesn’t grace you with a response, and honestly, you think you’re lucky he doesn’t snap at you like he does Max, but he eases up on the gas, finally within the speed limit as he curves through neighborhoods in pursuit of his own.

He pulls into their driveway with ease, and it makes you question how often his parents are gone. Surely their cars would take precedence over his in terms of parking, and you worry about him and Max being left alone more often than not. You’re so caught up in pondering the stability of their home life that you run straight into Billy’s back as he wrestles with his keys, stumbling backwards and apologizing bashfully.

“Clumsy,” He labels you, but it sounds more like a nickname than it does an insult. A mere observation, not a crack.

Max is off to her room before you even step over the threshold, and ignores Billy’s shouts of, “Maxine, we need colored pencils!”

She slams her door in response, and his shoulders slump.

“Shitbird.” He mutters, and an involuntary laugh slips from your lips. He looks back at you with a sly grin, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over a chair.

“Inventive,” You bend down to unlace your shoes, but Billy waves you off, so you keep them on. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“We’ve got a whole list of ‘em,” He boasts, and you admire the rare mention of the two of them as a duo instead of opponents, “I think her favorite is dickwad.”

“Oh, that’s even better,” You chuckle, “I’ll have to use that.”

“She usually pairs it with another insult,” He speaks as though he’s describing the plating process of a budding young chef, “Something like insufferable or shit-for-brains really gives it an extra kick.”

You fall into a comfortable silence while he points you to his room and while the rest of the house you can see seems lifeless and sterile, his room is definitely his. Posters on the walls, laundry on the floor, a discarded shirt, a belt, and- boxers, that you only notice as he kicks them into the depths of his closet. You try not to think about them as he tosses his bag on his bed, prompting you to do the same. You rifle through your papers again, watching as he arms himself with a single pencil.

“We should plan out what we’re drawing first,” You propose, hesitant to sit on his bed before he tells you that’s where you’re working. It feels too personal, you’d almost rather sit on the floor.”

“Okay,” He nods, taking the plunge and sitting on the bed with his back against the wall, “So we’re drawing…”

“Mitosis,” You freeze, glancing up at him apprehensively through your lashes, “Have you been paying attention in class?”

“I’ve been trying to dump enough ashes onto the flowers outside the window to kill them,” His head jerks upwards to look at you instead of your bag as he drawls sarcastically, and the earring in his left ear dangles, shining in the light streaming in from the windows. You heave a sigh with raised eyebrows, ducking your head to continue searching through your bag.

“Here’s a diagram,” You offer up a recent class handout, one that you’re sure he’d used to spit his gum out in, “This isn’t the order the steps are in, though. So we have to reorder them, then draw them all and write about them.”

“There’s only four,” He reasons, “That won’t take too long.”

You neglect to break the news to him that you’re a perfectionist. 

“You start with prophase,” You point to the corresponding picture, “And I’ll do metaphase. Then whoever finishes first can divide the last two.”

He nods once in acknowledgement, “I’ll get colored pencils from Max later. She won’t stab me if I offer her pizza first.”

You can’t blame him for his apprehension towards the redhead. She’s definitely fiery, but you have a sneaking suspicion she’s equally as sweet. You suppose siblings are always at each other’s throats, and Billy and Max are no exception. You get to work sketching out your diagram, and after it's formed, without a ruler to make straight lines, you attempt your own freehand ones. They’re supposed to be arrows, pointing to each part of the drawing to label them, but they come out lopsided and shaky. 

Billy glances up from his sketch when eraser shavings fly over it, peering concernedly at you as you nearly rub a hole through the paper with your eraser.

“Jesus,” He frowns, looking at the array of gray shavings on his comforter, “Are you trying to bury us?”

“Sorry!” You groan, sweeping the shavings away into your palm and dropping them into the trash can that he’s got by his nightstand, “I can’t get these lines straight.”

“Uh,” Billy straightens from where he’d been slouched against the wall, lost in his drawing, “I don’t think I have a ruler..”

“I figured,” You rub your eraser clean of pencil lead, “It’s fine, I can just-”

“Here,” He cuts you off, lunging for a record sleeve that he’s got propped on a milk crate by the foot of his bed, “You can trace it with this.”

You freeze with the sleek, stiff sleeve in your hands.

“Are you sure?” You glance cautiously at him, ghosting your fingers over the edges, “I don’t want to ruin it.”

“Don't, then.” He snorts, “Just trace the edge, you won’t get pencil on it.”

You carefully line the pencil up with the side of the sleeve, peering around his room once before tracing the line you need, “Do you have a record player?”

“Not anymore,” He shakes his head, his curls bouncing, “It got- uh, broken when we moved.”

You hum sympathetically, “That sucks. Maybe you can find a cheap one somewhere, like a yard sale, or something.”

“Yeah, maybe,” He glances up at you with a soft smile, but you don’t catch it, too immersed in your task. He takes the time to admire you curiously, his eyes tracing your features just like you do the arrow.

“There,” You breathe, handing the sleeve back to him once all of your lines have been drawn, “That’s perfect.”

“Mine’s done too,” He decides, tipping his folder so that you can see his final product, “That okay?”

“Looks good,” You nod, scanning the page for any possible mistakes, “That’s... A lot of detail. Wow.”

He chuckles, and you think it’s sheepishly, “Yeah. I draw fast, I guess.”

“I guess,” You parrot, “Okay, next?”

“Actually,” He slides the paper off of his lap, glancing at the clock on his wall, “It’s getting kind of late. If we want pizza delivery, we should call in now, that way it gets here before we get too hungry.”

“Oh!” You stiffen slightly, “Uh, I’m- I’m sorry, I don’t think I have money for pizza.”

“It’s fine,” He waves you off, “I got it. You’re probably the only reason I’m gonna pass this class anyways, I think I owe you more than two slices.”

“Bio’s hard,” You laugh lightly, “I think I’m doing worse in math, though.”

He groans, running a hand down his face, “Fucking math.”

“This unit is so confusing,” You gush, hearing the crunch of tires on gravel from somewhere outside, “I just can’t wrap my head around-”

“Quiet.” Billy demands, eyes wide.

“Uh- what?” You glance nervously at him. You’d started to let your guard down, to forget the rumors about Billy Hargrove, the basketball player with a whole lot of fire inside of him. You’d been comfortable on his bed, chatting about classes and drawing diagrams. But now, when he hears voices outside, he snaps.

“-parked in the damn driveway,” One grumbles, a man’s voice that makes Billy shoot out of his seat when it’s paired with heavy, thumping footsteps across the walkway.

Billy lunges for you, and you don’t have time to scream in shock before his hand, rough and large, slams itself over your mouth.

“Get in the closet,” He hisses, brow dipped in a ferocious frown, “Now!”

There’s no other way to describe how he moves you than manhandling. He grabs you tight by the arm with his free hand, dragging you up and off of the bed as you try fighting him on instinct. When you hear the front door open your brain catches up to you, and you rush to help his progress, not hinder it, so you stand from where you’d been limp in his arms and dart into the closet.

He’s barely able to slide the door shut on you before a series of knocks fall heavy on his door. They’re the type of knocks you’d only ever heard before in cop shows, the FBI banging on people’s doors ready to tackle them to the ground.

You’re petrified in the closet, squeezed between a series of shelves behind your back and the door pressed to your front. Your breathing is erratic, short, sharp intakes of breath warming your face as they hit the door in front of you and bounce right back.

“Yeah?” You hear Billy swing his door open, the hinges squeaking, “Oh, hi, dad.”

“Hi.” The same voice from before sounds, and it sends a shiver down your spine from how icy it is, “There’s a blue camaro parked in my spot. Any idea who’s that is?”

The question is sarcastic, of course, but your nose wrinkles at how unnecessary it is, not to mention condescending.”

“It’s-” Billy tries, but his dad cuts him off.

“It had better not be my son’s, whom I have told repeatedly not to park in the driveway. My driveway.”

“I’m sorry, dad.” Billy keeps his voice low, guilty, and you think it sounds earnest enough. Your breathing is calmer now, not normal but not panicked. Sure, it’ll be awkward listening to Billy get lectured by his dad, but you’d survive.

“The next time this happens,” Billy’s dad’s voice grows eerily venomous, “I will get your old baseball bat from our garage, and I will smash that car to bits, you understand? I don’t give a damn if you bought it, you’re parking it on my property and that means you’ll do it by my rules.”

“Yes, sir.” Billy recites, and your heart sinks at how impersonal their relationship seems. You’d had your concerns from the beginning, because everything about Billy’s home life seemed to indicate that it wasn’t the most conventional, but you pity the boy for his dad’s lack of human decency.

“Move it. And where’s Maxine?”

“She’s in her room,” Billy supplies readily, “She’s doing homework. And I was just about to order us pizza.”

You breathe easier knowing it’s over. That the danger has passed, that you’ll be out of the stuffy closet soon. But only silence ensues, there’s no acknowledgement from Billy’s dad. Not until-

“What?”

“There’s no spaghetti left,” Billy tries reasoning, “We finished it all last night. I just thought that pizza was-”

“Son,” Billy’s dad spits, “It is 6:30. That is well past our family’s dinnertime. And you haven’t fed your sister?”

“I was about to grab the phone, dad! To call the pizza place, and order so that they wouldn’t be later than seven. I know it’s later than we usually eat, I just thought that she’d tell me if she was getting hungry! And she hasn’t,” Billy huffs, “She’s been quiet since we got home from school.”

“You thought she’d tell you? Billy, it’s not her responsibility to run this household when we’re away, it’s yours. I’ve told you that time and time again. And she’s been quiet since you got her home from school? How do you know she’s even in her room? Do you? Have you checked on her?”

“No, dad,” Billy argues, “I haven’t checked on her. I’ve been doing my own homework, and you’re the one that left, so I don’t know why it’s my fault that-!”

You thought things were fine. Sure, it was an argument, but that’s all it was. Until it wasn’t. Until the door in front of you shakes, nearly snaps, as a colossal thud rattles its frame. You’re not sure how you managed to stay quiet, the door warping in its hinges and pressing tight against your front. You slam a hand over your mouth to muffle your newly-frantic breathing, eyes shut tight as tears bead in their corners.

“How dare you,” You hear that voice, the rough, hateful voice of Billy’s dad, only inches away from you. But he’s speaking to you, not away from you, and you come to the terrible realization that he’s slammed Billy into the closet door. You’d managed to keep up hope, imagining his stereo thrown across the room towards your location, but there’s no denying now that it’s Billy’s weight against your front, only a flimsy closet door between you.

“How dare you insinuate that this is my fault? How dare you tell me that I can’t leave my own home, and how dare you shirk your responsibilities to your sister. As if you’re not a grown man,” Billy’s dad spits, “You are more than capable of looking after a 13-year-old girl. You just choose not to, and I don’t know how else to get it through your head, Billy! This is your family, she is your sister, and when we are gone, you are her parent! She needs food, she needs attention, she needs care, she’s not a goldfish. Why don’t you care about her, Billy? Why do you keep acting like you are not a part of this family?”

There’s a moment of silence where Billy tries thinking of something to say. You use it to answer the question for yourself: because he isn’t. This isn’t a family, you realize, your chest still compressed by Billy’s weight, this is a broken home. The three of them, Billy’s dad, his stepmom, and his stepsister, they’re a family, but Billy isn’t. Not with the way they treat him, not with the things they expect of him. It’s no wonder he doesn’t like his family, because they really aren’t that.

It’s too late. Billy takes too long to answer (which you think is unfair with such a loaded question), and your stomach churns as you hear a sharp smack. You’re unfortunately certain that it hasn’t been Billy’s father on the receiving end, but your biology partner himself.

Thankfully, Billy’s dad doesn’t hear your gasp. Or maybe he does, but he thinks it’s Billy’s. Nevertheless, you know Billy hears it, and you hope that he takes some comfort in the fact that you’re still there, that you’re not selling him out and revealing yourself to get yourself out.

“You are her brother.” Billy’s dad breaks the silence, and you try matching your haggard breathing to Billy’s so that he doesn’t hear you, “You are responsible for her. And if you disobey me again, you will be punished. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” Billy mumbles, and you hate how thick his voice sounds in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Billy’s dad drawls, and you have the sudden urge to leap from the closet and punch him in the teeth, “I couldn’t hear you. What did you say?”

“Yes.” Billy repeats, voice strong this time, “Sir.”

“Move your fucking car.” Billy’s dad spits, leaving him with another shove to Billy’s shoulders that pushes you even further back into the shelves. Your back is going to ache tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not while Billy stands petrified against his closet door.

The heavy footsteps recede, and there’s two pairs, a much lighter one there now, too. But Billy hasn’t moved, and you come to the sickening realization that Billy’s stepmom had been lingering in the doorway the entire time. Or just outside it. You must not have heard her light footfalls when they were so consumed by her husband’s earth-shaking ones. She had to have known what Billy’s dad was doing to him, why wouldn’t she stop him? Why wouldn’t she say anything?

You don’t have time to prepare for the closet door flying open, and for a split second, you’re afraid it’s Billy’s dad. But it’s not, it’s Billy, and he meets your eye for only a split second. It’s enough for him to notice the withheld tears in your eyes, and for you to notice his own. He gulps, swallowing a lump in his throat, and his eyes drop to the floor. There’s a glaring red mark on his cheek, one that looks like it stings.

“Climb out the window,” He mumbles, gruff and secretive, “Take your bag, it’s under my bed. Wait for me down the road, I’ll drive you home.”

You don’t have it in you to argue with him, not when he looks like he’s about to burst into tears. You creep past the open door carefully, even though the footsteps have receded, both pairs, down the hallway and into a different room. You don’t have a difficult time climbing out the window, and you shoulder your backpack after your feet are firmly on the ground. 

Billy shuts his window behind you, and you’re alone now, in the darkness.

The side of their house is somewhat overgrown, twigs and leaves snapping beneath your shoes as you trek off-property. You follow the path of the street until you’ve passed other houses, and don’t seem to be lingering near theirs. Then the roar of Billy’s car travels your way, and his headlights bathe your stiff form.

He’s gripping the wheel tightly as you open the door, and he doesn’t look at you as you get in. It’s awkward, tense, and you have to sit on your hands to stop yourself from fidgeting with them and setting him off.

The drive is quiet; he’s shut off his radio. He drives fast, and this time you don’t have the heart to stop him. You’re still worried, but you think you’ve figured out why he drives fast, and you’re not sure you blame him for it anymore. He’s controlling what he can, because he can’t control most things.

You’re only five minutes out from his place when you first speak up, clearing your throat experimentally beforehand, “Do you... wanna talk about it?”

You glance over at him subtly, watching his knuckles turn white on the wheel. 

“No.”

“Okay,” You breathe, and bite your tongue to stop from speaking for the rest of the ride.

He pulls into your driveway with a rough turn, and you’re sure he only knows which house is yours because he’d seen you getting the mail two weeks ago while he was cruising through your neighborhood. On a different occasion, you’d commend him for his memory, but it seems inappropriate now.

You unbuckle your seatbelt without prompting, careful not to annoy him. But you can’t stop yourself, before you shut the door you peer down at him. Of course, he doesn’t look at you.

“Billy,” You start, carefully, cautiously, “You don’t have to talk to me about it. Or- or anyone. But if you ever need a place to stay, a safe place for the night… you can come here.”

You think he’s going to yank the door shut himself and speed off. And you wouldn’t blame him, either. But to your surprise, his eyes shift, no longer on the road ahead but on you. He glances at you through the mirror, still too timid to meet your eyes unobscured, but his gaze shatters you. It’s broken itself, and inside of his pretty blue irises is a child screaming for help. Pain pools in his pupils and threatens to drip down his cheeks in tears you wish you could wipe away before they even start flowing. 

“I mean it,” You promise, “Anytime.”

He holds your gaze, lips parting to whisper shakily, “Thank you.”

You leave him with a soft smile, throwing your bag over your shoulder lightly. You shut the door and watch him leave, much slower and more controlled than when he’d peeled in. When he’s completely out of sight you turn with a sigh, trekking up your front steps and fumbling for your keys. It takes you a minute to get in the door because of how distracted you are, and in your frustration you slump against the wood, remembering the feeling of Billy’s closet door nearly choking you.

You’re shaken up, you can’t imagine how Billy feels. And there’s no telling how often his dad does this, after all, it barely took anything to set him off. You hope he’ll be okay for the night, and for his own safety you wish he’d stayed with you. You wish he’d parked his car on your driveway, without fear of anyone smashing it, and settled on your couch for the night. But he didn’t, and when you crawl into your bed that night, you hope he’s safe in his own.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

[die-pink-maus]

A Weekend In Vienna 🇦🇹: Part II

This is part two to A Weekend In Vienna. I am soooo incredibly grateful for all the love the first part of this series received, especially with it being my first time writing a fanfic, and honestly my first time putting my writing out there for everyone to see in general 🙈 Part One can be found here if you just stumbled upon this randomly lol 👇🏽

♡ PART I: A WEEKEND IN VIENNA 🇦🇹

@lettaniko ‘s interpretation of König is used as inspo for this series. Let’s convince her to make some new drawings in this style. It’s awesome! 💕

For reference, here is a link to the outfit our OC is wearing in this scene 👉🏽 https://www.fashionnova.com/products/dont-call-me-up-jumpsuit-white

TW: 18+, NSFW, MDNI, Suggestions of mild Asphyxiation, but overall mostly fluff, we haven’t gotten too spicy YET, but things are most certainly heating up 🤭

Word Count: 2182

Once again, Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are greatly appreciated! Please do any of the above if you like this series! It would really mean a lot! 🫶🏼

Enjoy! 💋

The doorbell rang around 8pm. I was in the middle of putting the finishing touches on my outfit for the night. I slipped into a skintight white jumpsuit with a pair of black Christian Louboutin pumps, accessorizing with a pair of medium sized silver hoop earrings, a silver watch, and a small black clutch. I touched up my makeup before straightening my hair and pulling it back into a nice high, sleek ponytail, and took one last good look at myself in the mirror. Breathe, you look fine. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dressing to impress. I know it’s just a bar, and I may be slightly over done, which isn’t really out of the ordinary — not for me anyway, but…I wanna make his head spin. Adrian comes up behind me as I’m silently critiquing myself in the mirror. “Jesus…” she gasps. “Sometimes you make me wonder if I’m genuinely straight or not.”

“So this looks okay?” I blushed.

“You look incredible, if he doesn’t make a move, I know someone else will.” She giggled. But I want him. I took a deep breath before we headed downstairs, his large robust frame coming into view almost immediately. He looks quite nice as well. He’s wearing dark blue denim jeans, and a long sleeved light grey v-neck shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his tatted, vascular forearms on full display. Fuck. He was in the middle of what looked to be an interesting conversation with Adrian’s uncle — that was, until he saw me. I could’ve sworn I’d seen his jaw fall slightly open as he watched me parade down the lengthy flight of stairs. I held his gaze as I walked closer. His hooded blue orbs remained glued to mine, seemingly entranced by my every step as I made my way to the door where he stood. I tried as hard as I could to fight the impending smirk tugging at the corner of my lips as we came face to face. This time I’m the one reading him like a book, and it appears I did exactly what I set out to do with this outfit tonight. The look in his eyes is provocative and dark. He looks like he would take me right here and now if he could, if no one were around to watch or hear me scream his name as he has his way with me. I can’t help but revel in the way his eyes caress and undress me from head to toe, a soft but tense sigh escaping his lips as his eyes meet mine again. “Guten Abend,“ I smirked as I leaned forward and up to greet him with a hug. “Siehst du etwas, das dir gefällt?” I whispered before pulling away, a look of both surprise and arousal beaming from his face. It’s clear he’s impressed and maybe even a little taken back by 1. My sudden confident and flirtatious demeanour, and 2. The fact that I speak German. The shy woman he’d met a few hours prior was long gone, and she’d been replaced with a seductress. His lips quirk up into a smile as he gently rubs the back of his neck, probably thinking of his next move, but Arian interrupts before he has a chance to speak. “Let’s get going, I need some vodka.” She sighed as she brushed passed us both and walked out the front door. König and I said goodbye to Adrian’s uncle as we followed her outside. I was about to open the back door of his car to get in when I felt his large hand gently wrap around my arm from behind. He leaned down close to my ear, “Natürlich gefällt mir, was ich sehe, Prinzessin...” he whispered. “But I’d like it a lot more if it were on my bedroom floor.” He breathed as he let go of my arm and walked around me. I stood frozen as he grinned at me over his shoulder before shifting into the driver’s seat of the car and closing the door.



The bar is packed. Pretty sure the only reason we were able to get in is because König knows the owner, and his military buds have already secured us a nice table near the bar. Since arriving we’ve had about 4 rounds of vodka shots, and it didn’t look like any of us intended to stop any time soon. König and I have been exchanging flirtatious looks all night at every possible chance we get. I forgot how exhilarating sexual tension was. I haven’t had relations in quite a while, and I was afraid I may have lost my edge when it comes to flirting, but apparently not. I do still find that I am quite nervous around him, but I never really expected that to go away completely just yet. At least I’m doing a much better job at hiding it this time around, but I suppose I may have liquid courage to thank for that. I decided to take it easy with this next drink. I wouldn’t say I’m a light weight, but the buzz is definitely buzzing. I decided to go with my usual — a double vodka cranberry with a little bit of soda. Given it was quite busy, the bartender was occupied with a few other guests by the time I’d reached the rail. As a bartender myself, this is a situation I’m all too familiar with. I waited patiently, trying to grab their attention whenever I could. I could see König pushing his way through the crowd of people from the corner of my eye, inserting himself at the bar rail beside me. “Hey!” He called out to the bartender, capturing their attention almost instantly. It’s hard to ignore a man like König. Aside from the obvious fact that he’s just all around massive, he’s got such an undeniably commanding presence. He has an effect on everyone he’s around, and what kind of effect he has clearly depends on who you are and what you’re doing. “Ein Bier, bitte, und…” he trailed off as he looked down at me. “A double vodka cranberry with a splash of soda.” I blushed. “Ein doppelter Wodka-Cranberry mit Soda für die Dame.” He said as he slid money across the rail to the bartender, before reverting his attention back to me. “I hope you are having a good time so far.” He said.

“Absolutely,” I said. “This is a great spot, and I really like your friends.”

“I’m glad I am able to help make your first time in Wien an enjoyable one.” He smiled as the bartender placed our drinks in front of us.

“Danke.”

“Prost.” He winked as we clinked glasses. Ugh, he’s trouble.

We were on our second drink at the bar rail when we both glanced in the direction of our table, observing as everyone watched Adrian tell some sort of elaborate story. We couldn’t really hear what was being said, but a lot of arm movements and gestures were going on. I laughed, “looks like your friends are enjoying Adrian’s performance.”

“It doesn’t surprise me really, we appreciate a good story, not much else to do between missions other than share past experiences.” He laughed.

“So what’s that like? Being in the military, I mean.”

“It’s definitely not easy, it takes a toll on you in a lot of ways, but you get accustomed to everything. I know nothing else, it’s been my life since I was 17. Adrian’s uncle was my lieutenant actually.”

“That makes a lot of sense now that I think about it. Do you ever wish things were different?”

“Not really…I’m good at what I do.” He sighed as he took a swig of his beer. “The only thing I wish I had is a woman as beautiful as you to come home to.” He said, shifting his gaze in my direction. “I think I might be a little dangerous for your health though.” He smirked.

My brow raised. “How so?” I asked. He paused for a moment before moving closer, gently placing my chin between his thumb and index fingers, tilting upward as he gazed into my eyes intensely. “I don’t know if your body would be able to handle how hard I’d make you cum…all day and night like it’s the only thing I’ve been made to do.” He said lowly, my breath hitching in my throat as I digested his words. “You’d cum so hard, the only thing you’d be able to remember is my name.“ Fuck..In this moment it almost felt like I forgot how to breathe. All I could think about was how badly I wanted to experience that. I can only imagine all the many things a man like this could make me feel. I know it would probably be the most passionately intense sex I’ve ever had, and considering I live in Canada and wouldn’t be able to have that whenever I wanted, it may be best if I never discover what I’d be missing out on. But I want to so badly. I watch as he slowly smiles, his tongue gently grazing his bottom lip as he indulges in the arousal seeping from my expression. “But you’re curious, aren’t you Maus?” He asks as he begins leaning in even closer, his lips merely inches away from mine. “Yes.” I breathed, his palm cupping my cheek before he closed the gap between our lips. He tastes of craft beer and peppermint. I moan softly as his tongue sensually enters my mouth, his hand departing my cheek and sliding down to the base of my neck and upward, gently clasping around my throat as his other arm pulled me into him. My thighs clenched together as wetness pooled beneath my lacy black panties, my thoughts running absolutely wild with imagination. He lightly tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled away, I look up at him, sheer adoration beaming from my face. I’m looking at him like he’s practically God and it’s embarrassing as fuck but I can’t help it. I’m yearning for more. I want him to take me out to the car and fuck me till I can’t see straight. After that kiss, it’s obvious he’s capable of this, but I resist the urge to reveal my desperation. “I suppose I could go easy on you to start.” He grins as he takes his beer and walks off back towards our table. I remain at the bar, absolutely stunned by the chain of events that too place only moments prior. What have I gotten myself into?



By the time we all decided to leave, it was nearly 3am. Adrian was drunk as fuck and dancing incoherently with one of König’s friends, Horangi. I was quite intoxicated as well, day dreaming of all the things I wanted König to do to me as we both tried to converse normally, and pretend as if that breathtakingly steamy kiss by the bar rail never happened. Though, it was clear we were both still thinking about it. Both still silently undressing one another with our eyes as the coquettish banter roamed freely under the guise of polite conversation. “How much longer are you here for?” He asked.

“I leave in the next 3 days.” I said as he walked Adrian and I to the door of her aunt’s house. “Let me take you out for dinner tomorrow night. I would love to spend an evening alone together.” He smiled.

“Dinner huh? Wasn’t really expecting you to be a ‘Wine and Dine’ kinda guy.” I giggled.

“Normally, I wouldn’t say that I am…but something about you intrigues me.” He said. “I’d love to get to know more about you as a person before we go any further.” Wow. Not really what I was expecting in all honesty. Not necessarily saying he intended to take me home with him tonight, but I wasn’t sure he’d be interested in me either. “I don’t mind taking things slower than usual for you. I want to court you, Maus, if you’d allow me to.” I couldn’t help but blush, the way he calls me Maus always stirs up butterflies in the pit of my stomach. “I think I’d like that, a lot actually.” I smiled nervously.

“Good, how does 7pm sound?” He asked as Adrian unlocked the front door and stumbled inside. “It’s a date.” I smiled.

“I look forward to it, Maus.” He said as he leaned forward, softly snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me close before pressing his lips to mine. My legs practically turned to jello as we kissed passionately in front of the door. “Goodnight, Prinzessin. See you tomorrow, Ja?” He said as he pulled away. “Goodnight, König.” I said as he walked down the stairs back towards his car. I opened the front door, letting out a deep exhale as I tried to process the night. Well, fuck.

[irisintheafterglow]

heyy hope you're doing well (iykyk).

You know me lol...i got an idea for a fic but my exams are going on and i can't write it myself...like... that scene where gojo is panting? everyone relates it to well....but for me, i always feel a little hurt. i just wanna hug him and let him lean his weight on me as he catches his breath while i caresses his head cuz LOOK AT HIM! HE'S EXHAUSTED! MY MAN DESERVES A BREAK!!

Anyways so that's what i was thinking lol....a fic where (for the sake of my sanity) he gets a break and leans on the reader on the floor while catching his breath as the reader holds him close... it's okay if you can't do it though i just hope we all recover from the trauma that we call jujutsu kaisen. amen 🙏 😭

the stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is ours

wc: 0.44k

cw/tags: swearing, angst if you squint real hard, pet names (baby, angel), just loving satoru things

note: you're literally so right i think all my problems would be solved if i could just hold him for a second and let him breathe because GEGE WHEN I FUCKING CATCH YOU- anyways hope you like this, it's just a drabble because i felt like getting straight to the point without exposition oops. enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <;3 gege you will pay for my therapy

Your back collides with cold, grimey tile as you slide onto the floor in the corner of the subway stop. You stopped counting the number of Curses you’d exorcized a long time ago, but you knew it was a large enough number to have your body physically depleted. Your eyes shut from sheer exhaustion as you continue to steady your rapid breathing and you sense him collapse on the floor next to you. You don’t open your eyes, even when his forehead falls onto your shoulder and you can feel his heavy exhales through your clothes. Somewhere in the dim fluorescent lights, his right hand grabs your left, holding it tightly as he grounds himself in your presence. 

“Fuck, I’m so fucking tired,” he mutters against your body. Like clockwork, your fight-or-flight response starts to recede now that he’s here. You’re always safe when he’s here. “I’m so, so tired.”

“I know, baby. I know.” 

“Are you okay? Are you safe?”

“I’m safe, ‘toru. Even more so now that you’re here. Just rest.” The familiar feeling of Infinity extending itself to envelop you sends goosebumps on your skin; it was like his technique knew to cover you from sheer instinct after doing it so many times. Whether he knows it or not, he slowly starts to completely slump against you and you let him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while his head fits snugly under your chin. His body continues to melt into you when you rub his back without him asking and sighing when your fingers comb through his hair. If Nanami or Yaga saw you two curled up on the dirty floor, neglecting your duties of slaying Curses, they’d have a field day. But, as of now, the only people in the green-tinted underground were you and Satoru. 

“We gotta get back out there,” he groans and you tighten your grip on his shoulders ever so slightly to pull him back to you. You didn’t want him to go yet, and it seemed like he didn’t want to, either. The universe allowed Satoru very limited moments to catch his breath and you damn sure weren’t going to let him rush into danger again so quickly. 

“Give yourself a few more seconds to just breathe, please. No one’s gonna hurt us right now,” you murmur into his hair. “I won’t let them.” He huffs out half a laugh at the irony, at your promise to protect the one who’s supposed to be guarding everyone else.

“Thank you, angel. Just give me a little longer and I’ll get up.”

“Take all the time you need; I’ll stay here forever if you need me.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[imyourbratzdoll]

hi my lovely! i come bearing an idea for mr. mickey altieri 🫣 so you know the scene of the delta lambda mixer and mickey arrives late because he had just murdered cici minutes prior? maybe reader can be questioning him about his whereabouts and what took him so long to get there.. so he just pulls her into the sorority house somewhere and distracts her with a quickie!

hey baby! I'm sorry this took so long and how short it is. I hope you like it!

summary - mickey fucks you instead of answering your questions.

warning - smut, swearing, creampie, slut, semi-public sex.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“Mickey?” You walk toward him with your brows furrowed. “What took you so long to get here?” You pout, staring up at him with a questioning look. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you.” You slide your hand into his, waiting with your lip jutted out. 

Mickey looks down at you with furrowed brows, not really expecting a lot of questions waiting for him at the party, but he should’ve known how you were. He looks around before grabbing you, dragging you upstairs and into one of the bedrooms. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’m here now.” His lips find your neck, kissing and sucking as he pushes you onto the bed. “I bet you missed me, huh?” You nod, pouting, when he stops kissing you. “Aww, does my poor baby want some more kisses?” You nod, humming in pleasure when his lips connect to yours, causing your cunt to dampen. The feeling of his bulge pressing against you causes you to see stars.  Mickey’s hand slid between your legs, pulling his hardened cock out and pushing your skirt up. “Be a good girl for me, baby, and spread your legs wider.”

You spread your legs, whimpering when Mickey strokes your puffy clit before pulling your knickers to the side and sliding through your tight walls. Your moan pierces through the room and downstairs, letting everyone know exactly what the two of you are doing. He grunts, pinning you down to the bed before he pounds into you hard and fast, watching you become dumb under his strokes. “That’s right, baby girl.” He groans, hand wrapping around your throat and softly squeezing. “Doing so good for me, wrapped so nicely around my cock.” Your walls spasm around his throbbing member, squeezing the life out of him. “You feel so good.” He slams into you hard, fucking into you until you see stars.

You bite into him, wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, and your hips move with his thrusts. Nails dig into his flesh, whining and babbling, feeling your mind become fuzzy. “M–Mickey, feels….” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits your sweet spot, your mouth hangs open and your back arches. 

“Feels what, baby girl? Hmm? Are you too dumb to finish what you were trying to say?” You nod, not even hearing what he’s saying, as your juices squirt out of you and cover him. Mickey groans. “Fucking hell, you’re such a fucking slut.” He buries himself deep inside you, pounding until his cum spurts out of his tip. “Jesus, baby girl. You always feel so good for me, like my good little girl.”

“Mmhm, I’s sleepy.” You snuggle into him once he pulls out, clutching him tightly.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[jeonqkooks]

hello, my angel! congrats on your anniversary for starters hehehehe, i love you!

for the drabbles requests, could you do:

21 and 41 - smut

or

8 and 9 - fluff

thank you 🥰

velvet cherry | jjk (m.)

pairing: jungkook x reader

prompts: "call me that again." + "lay down and stay still."

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genre: exes to lovers (??), agent/spy au (idk it's pretty vague but all you need to know is that their profession is smth like this!), some fluff, some angst, definitely smut

warnings: mentions of injuries, mentions of violence (gunshots, blood), mentions of death, cursing, shower sex, unprotected sex (this is fictional. don't do it irl, be smart dudes), fingering, a lil dirty talk, UNEDITED bc i'm a menace :p

word count: 5.9k

note: pauli bby!! thank you for the request hehehe. the initial idea i had for this request was different but i was watching bad and crazy (kdrama) and every time lee dong wook has an action scene i'm just sitting there in front of my laptop, full on thirsting bc 🤤🥵 and i just had to channel it into this piece!!

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Everyone is yelling, screaming. Even the force trying to shake you into consciousness practically shouting in your face. Your head feels like it’s been split into two even without all of the loud noises threatening to deafen you. Your body hurts. You’ve definitely bruised your ribs, if they aren’t already broken. Even your face, which remains unmoving, aches from the simple act of breathing.

Inhale. One, two, three…

Exhale. One, two, three…

Stay alive.

It would kind of really suck if you died right now.

Embarrassing, even.

“C’mon, c’mon, wake up! Y/N!”

Huh? You know that voice.

It feels like your eyes have been glued shut, but that voice is so familiar that your lids wrestle with weariness to get a look. It can’t be him, can it? How would he even know that you were here?

Does that mean this is heaven? Or the void, or wherever the fuck it is that people often preach about? You have never believed in an afterlife because any and all life ends after death. Your soul doesn’t enter another spiritual plane of existence; you just simply cease to exist. This has always been your stance on the matter, but now, as you listen to that voice desperately cursing out your name, you waver.

Because that’s the only way you can explain why he’s here.

Oh, so you did die?

“Y/N!”

Heaven, or the void, or wherever the fuck this is, sure is loud.

You force your eyes open despite the debilitating exhaustion eating away at you. It takes a moment for your vision to adjust to your poorly lit surroundings. From the corner of your eye, you see small fireworks erupting before their booming echoes reverberate throughout the room. The lead projectiles whiz above your head, right behind the silhouette of him hovering over you, calling for you, shielding you.

Once his face becomes your focal point, everything around you staticizes. You can’t find it in yourself to care about the screams, nor the gunshots, or even the gash in your side where a knife grazed you earlier.

Not when he’s looking at you like that. Like if you were to die, there’s not a single part of him that would hesitate to follow.

“I thought I recognized th–that voice.” You cough, feeling the cut on your lips open wider. You hadn’t noticed the metallic taste on your tongue until now. “Funny seeing you here, Jeon.”

The feeling in the pit of your stomach thickens. It could be relief, or it could be dread. The lights go out before you get a chance to decipher which one it is.

The next time you wake, you jolt upright with a gasp. 

“Ah, shit,” you instantly groan; it feels like something sharp is jabbing into your abdomen. You brush your hand over the spot to find smears of crimson on your clothes, but the wound underneath doesn’t seem to be bleeding anymore.

Where the fuck is it now?

Your frantic eyes scan the room, expecting to find yourself still in that warehouse, hopelessly holding on for life while your teammates get killed one by one.

But you aren’t there anymore. There aren’t bodies scattered all around you nor bloodstains splattered carelessly on peeling walls. 

No, where you are smells like jasmine and fresh cotton. It’s warm and bright, and it’s filled with framed photos of a familiar dog that you once loved even more than his owner. The couch beneath you feels like a cloud carrying you through the pearly gates.

Arguably, this seems more like heaven. Or is it a twisted version hell? It feels like a stretch that someone like you could get into heaven, if there even is one.

“Welcome back, sleeping beauty.” His voice from behind startles you into action. You spring from the couch, or more like, you clumsily jump up only to be met with white hot pain that courses through your entire left side, and fall down onto the sofa again.

“Fuck!” you hiss through gritted teeth.

He rushes over, almost dropping the mug he was holding in his hand. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

Apologetic hands help you into a proper sitting position. You don’t know why or how, but it really is him.

Jeon Jungkook, what a sight for sore eyes. 

The discomfort you feel in your body takes a backseat momentarily as you stare at him and his beautiful doe eyes, shimmering with concern though it’s now much more diluted than before. He examines the stitches on your forehead and your side, it’s been a while since he’s done this.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You snap back into reality at the sound of this.

Fuck! How could it have possibly slipped your mind?

Your words come out in an uneasy rush. “Where’s Namjoon and the others?”

Jungkook stares at you, tongue in cheek, blinking in mild disbelief. Of course the first question you ask is about your team. You haven’t changed, he sees. “They’re at the hospital. They’re fine,” he says.

You close your eyes and heave a heavy sigh, visibly relaxing at his confirmation. When you turn to him again, you ask, “Where are we?”

“My apartment.”

“Why? Why am I not at the hospital with them?”

“You don’t remember?”

The confused look on your face tells him as much.

“You woke up while they were stitching you up. Nearly made a scene and everything. You kept saying you wanted to go home, but your place was trashed so I… brought you here.”

You wonder if you had actually demanded to be brought to his place specifically, after seeing him when you were so delirious before. You wonder if he’s just sparing you the embarrassment. “Oh,” you say simply, glancing around the room. You haven’t been here in a long time, but most of the things here are still the same.

“You haven’t answered my question. How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

You shrug, ignoring the throbbing pain that has dulled into a perpetual pinch in your side. “Of course I’m okay. Still alive and kicking.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow just the slightest. “You almost died tonight.”

“But I didn’t die, did I?”

“Why are you acting like it’s no big deal?”

Nostalgia washes over you in waves. You’ve had the same conversation a million times before.

“Because it isn’t that big a deal,” you say, feeling the urge to coat your words in a thick layer of bravery. “It’s not my first rodeo.”

“And that’s supposed to make it better? You could’ve died!”

“What is up your ass?” you ask jokingly, but it doesn’t sound right even to your ears. “You keep pushing it like you wanted me to die.”

Jungkook stares at you blankly, but you can tell that he’s agitated by your flippant attitude. You regret the words the very second you said them.

“That’s not funny,” he says, his voice strained.

Slightly ashamed, you look down at your hands and fiddle with your grimy fingers. “Y–yeah, I’m sorry. That was… too far.”

There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you watch him grit his teeth and attempt to exhale a steady breath. It comes out a little shaky, a sign of his frustration. He takes a few minutes to calm his nerves while you sit there in silence, not usually tongue tied around him but even you know that what you just told him was pretty fucked up. 

Finally, Jungkook says, “Get some rest. You had a long day.” He goes to help you up without you asking, still so considerate even when he’s trying to not be angry at you, but that’s not what you need right now.

“Can I take a shower first?” you ask.

“You just got your stitches a couple hours ago. You can shower in the morning.”

“I know. It’s… I’m covered in blood and dirt. I’d really like to wash it off.”

He looks at you as he considers it. This isn’t Jungkook’s first rodeo either. He had to deal with you countless times like this, when you’re freshly wounded but you don’t seem to give a damn about doing things that might hurt you even more.

“Suit yourself. You know where the bathroom is.”

You mutter a thanks as you let him pull you up from the cloud that he calls a couch. You could feel his eyes on you as you wobble to your desired destination, but even the short distance between his living room and bathroom proves to be a whole trek in your current condition. You’re surprised that you even made it to the hall when your legs finally gave out on you. You brace yourself against the wall, but one of Jungkook’s strong arms is already wrapped around your waist, steadying you before you could collapse.

“You should get some sleep. You can barely walk,” he urges gently.

“I feel like shit, Jeon,” you tell him. “I won’t be able to get any rest like this.”

“Y/N–”

“We both know you’re not talking me out of it. You can choose if you’re gonna help me or not, though.”

“You want me to help you… shower?”

“Will you?”

He won’t, you’re sure of this. Jungkook isn’t teasing or frivolous as you are. He doesn’t go around testing people’s patience like you do. The relationship didn’t end on bad terms, and you think he has deliberately kept it that way because you have to see each other at work so often, even though you’re assigned to different teams. You want to keep things light, to joke around with him, to essentially still be you and him minus the romance but Jungkook keeps you at arm’s length. And if you’re honest, you can’t blame him for that. That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t suck sometimes; you used to love him after all.

He looks pensive for a moment, and you don’t know why he’s even pretending to consider it when he’ll just say no anyway. You’re prepared for him to reject you and leave you to your own devices, but then–

“Fine,” Jungkook says, voice flat, eyes blank. “C’mon, I’ll help you.” It surprises you into complete stillness, wondering if the doctors and nurses fucked up when they were stitching up your head. The man in front of you raises an eyebrow when you don’t respond to him, as if he’s challenging you, which staggers you even more because he usually doesn’t entertain your outrageous ideas like this. Especially not after you parted ways.

You blink a couple of times and find your voice from where it’s stuck to the back of your throat. “Okay then. Lead the way.”

Jungkook guides you down the hall and into the bathroom. You think he’s just baiting you, challenging you back to see if you would actually be okay with hopping into the shower with your ex because even though it isn’t that scandalous of an idea to you, it is to Jungkook. You expect him to back out any second now, but once you’re standing under the warm white light of his bathroom, he asks if he could take off your clothes.

Have you underestimated him?

You nod your head, eyeing him with a smug smile tugging at the corner of your lips and a barely-there layer of underlying nervousness. His face gives nothing away. So you two are really going to do this, huh?

Jungkook peels off your bloodied shirt, careful not to let his fingers brush against your skin though they will have to in just a few minutes. He averts his gaze as he helps you step out of your clothes until you’re completely bare.

You mistake his reluctant eye contact for shyness. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” you joke.

True.

But no, that’s not the reason why he refuses to look at you.

He hated seeing you in pain, covered in bruises and cuts. It’s why the two of you broke up. You were too stubborn to quit, and he couldn’t stand watching you treat yourself like mere collateral damage, as long as you get the job done.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t take care of yourself. In a lot of ways, you’re far more capable and skilled than he is. But sometimes you can be reckless, a little too hot headed for your own good, a little too heedless of your own safety than he can handle. 

He loved that you were remarkable at what you do; it’s what drew him to you in the first place. When you used to spar together, at the beginning of your relationship, he loved that you could kick his ass so easily. Sometimes, even on his best days, he was still no match for you.

But what’s the point in dwelling? None of that matters anymore.

Jungkook takes off his own clothes then, and you resist the urge to focus on his body too much. He’s gotten even more muscular than the last time you got to see him naked. Hard pecs that are practically popping in your face, solid abs that demand to be touched… Well, this is going to be… interesting.

He tests the water first before he lets you go in. When you finally do, you sigh as the warm water rains down on your skin, enveloping you in a liquified blanket of comfort. You’re trying not to let your eyes wander, you really are.

You hum happily when he smooths the shampoo over your hair. As his fingers massage your scalp gently, a soft moan escapes your throat. The sound travels straight to his groin, making him stiffen just a little bit and poke into your thigh. You bite your bottom lip to suppress a giggle but Jungkook just clears his throat awkwardly. Getting a boner feels inappropriate in a moment like this, when you’re his ex and you had nearly died earlier tonight.

But he isn’t responsible for the way his body chooses to react, not really. You’re showering together, for fuck’s sake. Though to be fair, he has no one to blame but himself for this irrational decision.

When he lathers you up with his body wash, you decide to do it again, just to tease him. As his hands start kneading one of your breasts, you let out a slightly exaggerated moan.

He knows you’re doing it on purpose, but his dick is stupid and it hardens regardless. “Quit it,” Jungkook says.

“Quit what?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him coquettishly. You put a hand on his chest, then trails it lower to graze his defined abs. “You look like you’re enjoying it, no?”

He doesn’t answer you, choosing to focus on his task of washing you instead, as if ignoring you will make you stop whatever it is you’re doing.

You trace your fingers along his V-line until you wrap your hand around him, making him hiss as you touch him. You give him a few lazy pumps until his member is standing tall and proud, just for you.

“Y/N…” Jungkook grits his teeth and swallows thickly. The steam is suffocating him. You are suffocating him.

“You can tell me if you don’t want it.” You tilt your head up, letting your face inch closer to his until your breath fans his lips. You feel him grip your waist – an act of restraint – then quickly loosen his hands around your body as if he suddenly remembered that you’re still battered up. You brush your lips against his, just testing him. You both know a kiss would be so much more intimate than what you’re doing to him down there.

He parts his lips slightly, the temptation is getting too strong to resist. You cloud his judgment the same way the hot water encloses the room in a mystifying haze. He presses forward to capture your lips, only to feel himself completely melt against you in an instant. 

You taste like longing, like regret. Something like a needle pierces right through his heart when you give him a needy sigh, muffled by his own lips. 

He knows he shouldn’t do this, but is it a mistake? Even if it is a mistake, he can’t find it in himself to stop, now that it has already started. You’re still as alluring and captivating as ever, and he’s still the same Jungkook who always fell to his knees for you.

“Touch me,” you whisper.

“Y–you’re hurt,” Jungkook rasps. Is that the only reason? There’s no conviction behind his words and he knows you know it. If he was really against this, then he would’ve stopped you already.

“Please.” Your voice is different, desperate, when you say this. He can’t tell if you’re crying or not because of the water still glistening on your face, but it doesn’t matter. When your hand guides one of his between your legs, he squeezes his eyes shut, searching inward for that last bit of self-control that’s nowhere to be found right now. You’re so fucking slick, and as his middle finger slides through your sodden folds to find your entrance, your head falls upon his shoulder.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, barely audible to you over the sound of running water. You’re hurt. He knows he should stop, but he can’t. His thumb finds your clit in no time, and nudges it the way he remembers you liked. You choke on an exhale, now grinding against his hand and gripping his biceps to keep yourself upright. He rubs you leisurely as the water cascades down your bodies. A part of him thinks he’s twisted for enjoying the quiet whimpers you let out.

“Are you sure?” he asks, both hoping for and dreading the answer you might give him.

“Yes,” you confirm. You press his hand harder against your core, as if you’re begging him to pleasure you. “Make me feel better.”

Jungkook slides two digits into you before he slants his mouth over yours, swallowing the moan that you instantly keen out. You’re wet enough that his fingers can drive in and out of you without much mercy from the get-go. He buries them in you until he’s knuckles deep, scissoring you open how he always did to prepare you for his cock.

“Fuck, Jeon,” you purr, rolling your hips to meet the thrusts of his hand. “That’s good.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, finding that spot inside of you that never fails to make your legs shake. His strong arm holds you flush against his body as he relentlessly fingers you, absolutely loving the way your juices run down the back of his hand. There’s a sense of arrogance in the way he fucks you, even though he was hesitant about it just moments ago. The quivering moans that you grace him with are fucking addicting. At least for now, he has you. Standing in his shower, begging him for release, whispering in his ear things that he hasn’t realized how much he’s missed hearing until this very second.

His fingers ram into you until your inner walls are pulsing around him and your voice hitches beautifully. “Fuck!” you cry, holding onto him as the high crashes down on you, sending shockwaves throughout your entire body. You grind down on his hand, wanting so desperately to prolong the pleasure like you’re afraid he’ll take it away from you. Jungkook would never dream of giving you anything less than what you deserve, so he maintains the momentum of his thrusts, fucking you through your orgasm even when you clench so tightly around his digits that it becomes more difficult to move. He helps you through it until your breath no longer comes out in heavy pants, until the only stars you see are the ones in his eyes.

As he withdraws his fingers, you give him a chaste kiss as if to say thank you. He doesn’t expect anything more; it’s enough that he could give you a helping hand in your time of need, make you forget about everything even if it was only for a little while.

But then you’re deepening the kiss, one hand tugging on his hair as the other finds his hard cock again. He groans against your mouth, torn between asking you to keep going and letting you stop. “You don’t have to…” he mutters, placing a hand over yours.

“I want more,” you say breathily, but somehow it sounds almost demanding. “I want you.”

He stares at you with uncertainty in his eyes. “Are you sure you can handle it?”

Your answer comes in the form of a squeeze around his length, making his eyes flutter briefly as he rests his forehead against yours. “I can always take you.”

You watch Jungkook clench his jaw before he crashes his lips onto yours, promptly slipping his tongue into your mouth to draw the neediest of moans from you just by his kiss alone. He lifts you up by the back of your thighs and cages you between the wall and his chest. Your legs wrap around his waist as he presses his body against yours, slowly grinding his cock against your throbbing heat. You whimper when his tip nudges your sensitive clit.

“I need you,” you cry out, rutting against him desperately. He hears it then – the vulnerability in your voice that you try to mask with desire – and that’s when he thinks he gets it. You’re shaken.

You were scared tonight. That’s not something that happens very often.

He was scared too. He nearly lost his mind when he heard the news that your team was ambushed. You should’ve seen his frantic state when he raced to the scene, heart speeding a thousand miles an hour at the mere thought of something happening to you. He prayed to every god he didn’t believe in that you’d be okay, that the phone call he received minutes prior was just a sick prank someone was playing on him.

“I’ve got you,” Jungkook says, diving in to kiss you again. There’s a lot more to those words than either one of you would like to admit.

You both sigh when he pushes in, and although it’s been a long while since your bodies knew one another like this, there’s barely any resistance. He fits perfectly  like you were made for each other. He’s bigger than you remember, already feeling so good inside of you that you think you could come with just a few thrusts. Instead of moving, he stays there like he wants to memorize the feeling of you, so warm around him and so inviting. 

He was always the sentimental one.

“Move,” you whine, still bossy in a moment like this. He chuckles against your mouth before trailing his lips tantalizingly slowly across your jawline and down your neck to your breasts, where he sucks on your skin harshly, marking you. His hips pull back, making you moan from the delicious glide of him along your slickened walls, before they snap forward and set a pace that has your eyes rolling backward.

“Shit, nghhh…”

It’s like no time has passed at all. Jungkook still remembers everything you like, still knows your body like the back of his hand. You feel like you’re practically transcending the limits of space and time with every thrust of his hips and every motion of his mouth. The rough way that his fingers dig into your thighs to hold you up makes it so much more heightened as his lips wrap around one of your breasts, sucking it harshly into his mouth, his tongue laving at your hardened nipple. Now that you’re finally experiencing this again, you don’t know how you could go two whole years without it.

Every part of you misses him.

No one knows how to please you like he does.

“So fucking good…” Jungkook grunts, flicking your nipple with the wet muscle of his mouth. You arch your tits further into him as moans of unfiltered pleasure fall from you. Even as he fucks you into oblivion, he’s still mindful of your injuries. Strong hands kneading your skin roughly but softening when they brush over your bruised spots.

He tries not to pay much attention to your battle scars, but how could he not? He feels them under his fingertips everywhere they go. Some are from before you met him, some from after. Some he doesn’t recognize because you must have acquired them during your time apart. He always hated them. You used to tell him that you wore your scars proudly, that they are proof that you survived every horrible thing you’ve had to face.

That’s certainly one way of looking at it, but Jungkook hated them then and he hates them now. Not because he thought they made you ugly – no, nothing could make him see you as anything less than the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes upon – but because they remind him of all the times that you have had to suffer. They made him feel unworthy of you, for not being there to keep you safe.

But not like you would have let him anyway.

“Ah, fuck, Koo…”

His hips stutter in surprise. He’s not sure if you did it on purpose, or if it just slipped out in the heat of the moment.

“Call me that again,” Jungkook tells you. It doesn’t matter that the simple nickname brings up feelings he’s been trying so hard to suppress. It doesn’t matter that those feelings are damn close to spilling over the confines of his wretched little heart, that it will fucking hurt later when you leave He just needs to hear you say it again.

“Koo, fuck! Right there, keep doing that…”

He tears his mouth away from your chest to come up and chase your lips. His tongue slips inside to dance with yours, so much more intimate than it is dirty that it makes you dizzy beyond nostalgia. In a split second of weakness, it makes your heart want to be his once more. His thrusts are now even faster than before, harder and more calculated.

He pulls back enough to look at you and takes in the blissed look on your face, how your lips part when he hits your g-spot just right.  “Y/N, I…”

“I know,” you whimper, your nails digging into his back and leaving angry red trails in their wake as they drag downward. “I’m close too.”

That’s not what he was going to say. Maybe it’s a good thing that you’re too fucked out to notice it.

“C’mon, I’ve got you,” Jungkook resorts to saying. He keeps up the rhythm of his hips, determined to give you what you want the most. He’s pounding into you so impossibly deep that you can feel him in your guts, each thrust making the base of his cock grind against your aching clit. It feels so fucking good, you can’t even see straight anymore. His hand is unknowingly digging into a bruise on your leg but the pleasure is too overwhelming that you’ve stopped caring about the discomfort. This is exactly how you wanted him to fuck you – hard enough to make you forget the pain.

It hits you even harder than before. You cum with a cry of his name as your toes curl and your body shakes in his hold, stars exploding behind your eyelids when the orgasm wracks through you like an earthquake. Jungkook’s hips never cease their movements, fucking into you until you find enough strength to squeeze your walls around him and pulls him in for a sloppy kiss. He unravels then, filling you up endlessly with his warmth that you’re sure you’ll feel for days.

You stay like that for a while, just holding each other, until he softens inside of you and you feel your releases drip down your thighs and onto the floor. The water promptly washes away the remnants of your heated session. When he slips out and helps you to your feet, you want to chase it instantly – the feeling of him, with you, where he’s supposed to be.

You aren’t fully present for everything that happens afterward. As Jungkook dries you off and dresses you, he feels something tug on his heart at the sight of you in his clothes. Your tired face and the way you lean into him, trusting him to keep you steady as he prepares you for bed. Trusting him to keep you safe, to protect you.

He can’t help it.

He tilts your head up by your chin and kisses you softly. Slow. His lips are gentle, but he’s sure of himself. This isn’t the first kiss you’ve shared tonight, but in many ways, it is.

When Jungkook pulls away, he doesn’t say anything. No excuses or explanations on why he chose to do it when the lust has waned and the moment is no longer heated enough to muddle his mind. You don’t ask for anything either; you just let him lead you into his bedroom. That doesn’t mean that you don’t want him to just tell you anyway.

He tucks you into his bed as if you’re a child. When he’s sure that you’re comfortable enough, he turns to leave.

You protest immediately. “Where are you going?”

“To the couch,” he says, like it’s obvious.

You sit up in order to push yourself from the bed, erasing his previous effort of tucking you in. “I’m not making you sleep on the couch in your own home.”

“Lay down and stay still,” Jungkook sighs before pushing you back onto the mattress again. “If I stay here with you, will you please sleep in the bed?”

You purse your lips, considering this for a moment before you compromise. “Yes.”

He turns off all the lights and makes his way to the other side of the bed, getting under the covers with you. You’re disappointed when he puts a little distance between your bodies. It’s not that you expected anything to come from your brief reunion, but your heart sinks regardless. Surely, sleeping in the same bed as your ex can’t be worse than having sex with him? You’ve already done the latter, but somehow this feels so much more intimidating.

You do what you do best when you don’t want to deal with your more difficult feelings – crack lame jokes and hope they’re enough to diffuse the tension. “Why are you so stiff? Scared that I’ll fuck you? Already did that, Jeon.”

Jungkook throws you a humorless chuckle. “Was that your plan all along? To seduce me?”

“It just happened,” you say. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure if you even wanted it before y’know… you popped a boner.”

If the silence in the room was a little bit louder, then you could probably hear the way he pauses halfway through a breath. He doesn’t entertain you for much longer, even though it feels like he’s got something on his mind.

He doesn’t ask what this means for the two of you, if it even meant anything. What’s the point in trying if the outcome is the same? His stance on the matter hasn’t changed at all. After what happened to you tonight, it just fueled him even more. He won’t deny that his feelings for you are still there, because he’d be the first to admit that they never went away to begin with. Jungkook would try, he would try for you a million times over, but in the end, where would that lead to if you wouldn’t even try for yourself? You’ll just keep breaking his heart day in and day out, over and over again if this recklessness of yours persists.

“Go to sleep, Y/N,” he says tiredly.

You bite your lip, disheartened that he’s shutting you out again, even though he has every right to. “Okay,” you mumble.

Despite the exhaustion submerging you like a tidal wave, you can’t find rest. You were conscious for barely half a minute when Jungkook found you in that abandoned warehouse, but you could hear the panic in his voice as he tried to shake you awake. He never had to find you like that before. When you were still together, every time you got hurt, you never let anyone call him until after your wounds had already been stitched up, until you were sure that you were good enough to crack a joke once he’d rushed to the hospital.

Tonight was the first time he saw you on death’s door. You didn’t know if he even cared anymore. You were scared to think that he didn’t.

But then you heard that voice of his, and you opened your eyes just long enough to see the tears fill his eyes. You were so out of it that you thought maybe, just maybe, there was a piece of his heart that still felt something for you. Something beyond just concern for an ex lover.

You don’t know how much time has passed, with you lying there staring into darkness. “Jeon, are you asleep?” you ask quietly, only to be met with silence from his side. Nothing but his steady breathing. You want him to be awake to hear you say it, though you’re not sure how you want him to react to it. The past 2 years have been hard. Your own guilt chews you up and spits you out every single day. The breakup was your fault, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just Jungkook who repeatedly expressed concerns for your safety. Your parents never wanted you to go into this line of work in the first place.

You were too selfish to really consider anyone but yourself. You and Jungkook both do the same thing – you go out and risk your lives every day. But back then, you didn’t understand why you should be the one to stop. Why not him? Why just you?

The difference between the two of you is clear as day. Jungkook knows when to stop, and you don’t. He wanted to be able to make it back home to you more than he wanted to catch a bad guy. He put you first. He put the people who loved him first.

“I think I’m going to quit.”

Your chest feels so much lighter as soon as the words leave your mouth. Something evaporates from within you, a burden that’s finally been lifted, and that’s how you know it’s the right decision. You aren’t doing it just for everyone who loves you but is terrified for your life all the time. You aren’t doing it just for Jungkook. You’re doing it for yourself too.

Peace finally finds you then, as though it’s been waiting for you this entire time.

You don’t mind that Jungkook is already asleep. You said it, and admitting to yourself that maybe it’s time to stop, is good enough. Having that conversation with him in the morning won’t be late. You’re already halfway to dreamland when you feel him right behind you, enveloping you in a warmth that’s so distinctly Jungkook. He carefully wraps an arm around you and pulls you close to his chest, close enough that it feels like his heart is beating right into yours. He sighs, like he’s wholly relieved too.

You can’t discern what he says next, but you can feel the kiss he presses against your hair.

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 11.01.23]

[avatarofcuriousity]

Why YOU Should Vote For Solomon In The 2022 RAD Popularity Contest!

YOU. YES, YOU! YOU are sleeping on Solomon!

He doesn't like that, MC.

So I am making this post as a fellow Solomon enjoyer!

1. Much Character And Development (Very Cool!)

Solomon is an immortal sorcerer. So, he's not a demon or angle. He's different like that, a bit quirky if you will.

He's lived a long time. He's very lonely. The RAD program was finally a place where he could find his found family. Doesn't that make you feel bad? Don't you think he deserves more love to compensate for his very much lonely life? I am guilt tripping you, you are being held at gunpoint, MC...

To elaborate more on his character, please allow me direct you to these AMAZING posts (that are actually serious and put things in way better words than I ever could lol) to explain why he's SUCH much character.

@books-and-catears Quick read of his Birthday Event and all the details of how amazing he is!

@3vocatio 's Analysis Of Why Solomon is a Consistently Written Character AND The Devs FAV (CANON???) (REAL, NOT CLICKBAIT) (😱) (😍)

@yourboyhack 's reblog of Solomon's B-day Character Card and how it mentions the obvious and is so very based

2. He Just Loves You So Very Much

As evident by his constant praise and affection! You're his darling apprentice and is very proud of you! 💙

Example shown here in @books-and-catears post!

He is absolutely your soulmate, MC. No, I'm not gaslighting you, MC, what do you mean?

He is determined to show you how much he loves you! He's open and honest. All he wants is to be sincere with you, as also evident by ANOTHER @books-and-catears post (They're so fucking based, one of the biggest Solomon appreciaters ever) and @he-calls-me-kitten 's reblog!

Conclusion?

Solomon is a very amazing and fantastic character. Especially after his Birthday Event, it's clearer than ever he's one of the best written characters! He deserves much more fans and appreciation. And the Devs ESPECIALLY deserve to know how much we adore his character! And even if you STILL don't like him or prefer another character?

Do it for the bit. That's right. If nothing I said reached you, at least do it for the funny.

And THAT is why you should vote for Solomon in the 2022 RAD Popularity Contest!

VOTE NOW!:

(NOTE: You can vote as many times as you'd like! (If you go into Incognito Mode 😏👀) Vote your true fav, but I encourage you to go vote for Solomon as MANY times as you can in Incognito and go HAM.)

[nirvanawrites111]

Say You Love Me (Sub!Jongin x AFAB!Reader)

Word Count: 3727

Pairing: Kim Jongin x Afab!Reader

Genre AU: Male Stripper AU

Summary: Y/n runs No Manners male revue club and is recently divorced from Kim Jongin. But, needs a huge favor so that Y/n doesn't lose money and customers. No pronouns are used but Y/N is afab.

other characters mentioned: Ten, Taemin, Jun, Choi Minho, Leo

Warnings: Smut, sub!Jongin, Stripper club universe, pegging, strong language, oral sex (both rec), cum eating, degradation during sex. Calls Jongin a whore. Also... Jongin calls Y/N Daddy!, fingers (both rec)

Mentions of being with Ten Lee and Taemin. This chapter is just Y/n and Jongin together.

MINORS PLS DO NOT INTERACT. Ty so much!!!

A/n: Not sure if Y/n will have intimate scenes with everyone just yet. But I had to release this part because the sub!Jongin community is pretty dry and I need it for my mental health and clear skin.

Okay, I'm rambling.. also I'm obsessed with LET ME IN by Exo. It's been on repeat since Monday. I even play the slowed version. THE VOCALSSS.

If you enjoy my work please reblog it. I appreciate it!

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

"Where the fuck is Lee Taemin?!" You scream. You swallow hard, and your throat is raw. You walk around the lockers trying to find your main attraction for tonight. 

He knows how vital that headliner spot is. People come from far distances to see him perform.

The last thing you need is to deal with disgruntled customers tonight. 

You see Ten walk past you in a fishnet bodysuit covered in body glitter, and you grab his arm. "Hey! Where do you think you're going?"

Ten turns around with his other hand still gripping the sizeable clear trash bag of dollar bills. "Umm, I'm going to count my money in your office. What's up?" His hisses. 

"Where the fuck is your friend, Taemin?" You ask. 

"Umm.." Ten avoids eye contact and looks down at the floor. "I have no idea."

You step closer to him and are less than an inch away from him. "Look at me, Ten."

His eye contact connects with yours, and he stares at you. "Yes?"

"Where is Taemin?"

"In the parking lot with Jimin."

"Thank you, baby," you pull him closer and kiss him.

You let it linger for a bit, and then you pull away. You head out of the locker room's back door and search the parking lot for the infamous pink Lamborghini. 

You see it in the back of the parking lot and race over to the car with your heels clicking against the pavement. 

You find yourself at the passenger side window and knock on it. Taemin jumps, and grabs his chest. 

"Roll down the window, drama queen!" you yell. You want to yank him out of the car because he has been MIA for the last few hours.

Not to mention he's still in his regular clothes, and his set is coming up soon. 

"Heyyy! Y/n," Taemin greets you. 

The marijuana smoke hits your face before he can say anything else. Both of their eyes are bloodshot red, and you are irritated, to say the least. 

"Get out of the car. You're late for work!" 

Taemin fumbles with the door, and Jimin starts laughing. 

"You look nice. Y/n. Are you hiring by chance?" Jimin asks.

"Fuck, no," you spit. 

You grab Taemin's hand as he gets out of the car. 

"What's up, baby?" Taemin replies. 

 "Don't baby me! I put you on as a solo headliner for tonight and you're literally blowing it. You know I don't let you anyone go up there high or drunk."

"I know. I know. I'm not high though. I was just talking with Jimin about doing some music. He has a producer friend that can get our songs on the radio," Taemin explains. 

"Taemin, I can't let you go on stage like this. Go home."

"What?" Taemin glares at me with glossy eyes. 

"You heard me the first time. You can't come to work like this. It's the rules."

"No, c'mon this night is important."

"I can't give you special treatment just cause we're fucking. You gotta go home."

You sigh in disappointment. You wanted so much more for him. He'd worked so hard to get to that top spot. He was just as much of a crowd favorite as Kai.

Kai's departure was so unexpected. You were left scrambling to replace him.

But, that's when Taemin stepped up to the plate, and helped boost the club back to where it was when Kai was the headliner. 

"Y/n, please. C'mon."

"I said what I said."

You walk away from Taemin because you might say something you regret or can't take back if you say anything else.

You reach into your back pocket. Your hand is shaky as you stare down at your iPhone in your palm. You pull up your phone and dial your ex-husband's number. 

"Hello?"

"Jongin." 

You take a deep breath and almost hang up the phone.

But you're desperate and don't want to disappoint your customers. Especially since tonight is a packed house. 

"Yes?"

"I need a huge favor. Can you perform tonight as the headliner?"

"Y/n, you haven't talked to me in months and now you need me. Sounds like you're in a tough spot. Where's Taemin?"

"I had to send him home." You grab your keyring off your hip and open the back door. You close it behind you. 

"I'll be there in five. But, you owe me, Y/n."

"Yeah. Yeah. Thank you! Jongin."

You know you won't hear the last of it from everybody, but you are the owner of No Manners. You have to do what's best for business and put all personal feelings aside. 

You walk into your office and see Ten counting his money and clipping it together in stacks. 

"Thanks for telling me about Taemin."

"I told him to come in for work, but he doesn't listen."

"He knew how important tonight is for the club. I don't get why he would do that."

"Me either."

"But, Jongin is performing tonight."

“Jongin… Kim Jongin? Here at No Manners?”

"Yeah, he was my last choice. You already did your set tonight. I couldn't make you do a double."

"You know Taemin is going to be pissed about it."

"I don't care honestly."

"Tonight, is about to be interesting."

"Are you doing the VIP room tonight?"

"No, I'm done for tonight."

"Okay."

Ten glares at the door, and you turn around to see Jongin transformed into his alter-ego. 

Kai. 

Your jaw drops when you see him wearing that one outfit you hand-made for him that he refused to wear. His muscular tone body is even more toned than when you last saw him. 

The tan sheer materials cover his body perfectly, and the rhinestone highlights his manhood but still leaves much to the imagination. 

It looks even better than it did a year ago when you had him first put it on. 

"You look.. stunning, Jongin."

"It's Kai for tonight."

"Right," you snap back to earth and nod. "Did you give the DJ your music."

"Yeah, I'm doing a new routine."

"You still dance?"

"Not in clubs. But, I've been playing around with something. Trust me the crowd will enjoy it."

You look down at your watch. "Alright, well. Let me walk you out."

You head out of the office, and Jongin trails behind you. You are curious about what he's been up to since the divorce was finalized, but you're going to mind your business. 

"That outfit looks perfect on you."

"I know."

You and Jongin stand at the metallic string curtains, and you stare out into the crowd. Jun is wrapping up his set, and his music fades out. 

The DJ starts playing the melody of a beat you have never heard. "We got a special treat for you all tonight. Get your dollar bills out. Hell, bring out your 10s 20s and 100 dollar bills for this special guest, tonight. Everyone rise to your feet for the one and only, Kai."

After the DJ says his name, the crowd erupts into cheers, and Kai struts throughout the crowd. He goes up to a lady coming to the club since you first opened it up. 

Kai works his magic and dances on the customer, and she almost falls over. He catches her, and she screams. People start throwing cash at him. 

One of the younger strippers goes with a trash bag and starts picking up his money for him. 

Kai continues making his runs throughout the crowd and gives a couple lucky people, some special attention. He doesn't care the gender. He doesn't discriminate. 

You are quick to remember why he's always been a crowd favorite. 

Kai finally makes his way onto the stage. You watch him, and he whines his hips to the music, and you can almost get lost in his movement. 

You love the way he connects with the crowd. He always focuses on one person and sucks them into whatever he's doing.

Kai goes over to the pole and swings around it. He climbs to the top and slowly comes down.

 He rises up the pole again and swings around it. He drops down into a split, and he climbs up. The light turns off, and I head to the DJ booth, where the music still plays. 

A few moments pass, and then he's just wearing a rhinestone cover g strip. The crowd cheers even louder, and more people move closer to the stage, throwing money at him. Seeing all that money all over him, he works the pole even harder. 

Your jaw drops when you see your ex-husband in action. He's a natural for this lifestyle and the best to ever do it. 

After his set is over and he heads into his dressing room. The younger stripper walks towards his door with two large trash bags of money. 

You grab the money and knock on the door. "Come in!"

You open the door and place the oversized trash bags on the couch. You glance over to see Jongin cleaning the makeup off his face in front of the vanity. 

"Your set was amazing."

"I know. I’m sure you freaked out about the lights going out."

"Yeah, I thought something was wrong."

"You know I always know what I'm doing. You would have just talked me out of it."

"I know. I appreciate it. The club just isn't the same without you."

"I'm sure. You should let me come back."

"You know Ten and Taemin wouldn't like that."

"You're going to let them affect your business like that?"

"No, but things are calm backstage. You know you're a diva."

"You saw my fucking stage, right?" Jongin glares at you, and his gaze on you is stirring something up in you. 

"I did. You're a headliner. You've always been one. Especially since Choi Minho left. You brought something different."

"The crowd eats it up every single time."

"I know. You were amazing. You didn't miss a beat. How's life post stripper life?" You ask and sit down on the couch next to his vanity. 

"I'd be lying if I said it was easy. Too many people recognize me as a stripper. I honestly needed the money, tonight."

"If you needed help, why didn't you call me?"

Jongin laughs at your question. Why would he ask you for help? He shakes his head and wipes the glitter off his neck. 

"We haven't talked in almost five months. I wanted to put this life behind me. I didn't want to be some washed up stripper."

"You're not a washed-up stripper. You're a talented fucking dancer."

"I know but my resume is seven years an exotic dancer with you as my only reference."

"No one has called my phone. You know I would speak highly of you."

"Well, I haven't gotten any offers."

"Something will come. Listen don't worry about giving me any of the money. Keep it," You reply. 

You stand up, and Jongin stands up in front of you. He towers over you slightly by a few inches. You two are standing looking at each other. 

"I miss you."

The words uttered by Jongin feel personal and envelopes you in a way you can't describe. 

You stare into his eyes and brush his hair back from his face. His usual chocolate locks are an ashy gray hue. His beautiful face sparks something deep inside you.

This is still the Kim Jongin that knows all your deepest secrets. The man who held your hand through building this club. You were there for him when he got into dance school. So much history between the two of you. So much has happened. 

Your chest tightens, and you take a deep breath. The words are caught in his throat. 

"I miss you, too. But, we both know that the divorce was for the best."

"Because I wanted to leave this place and you didn't want to let me go. I wanted to grow past the gaze of desire. I want to be taken seriously."

"I hear you. I knew you leaving the club would affect me financially. I wasn't ready to make that move."

"Well, I will be here for the next month. So, tell your little princess Taemin that his spot is taken."

Jongin slides into his baggy jogging pants and grabs the trash bags.

You know that you need Jongin even though it will cause a rift between the other dancers. You know it's best for business. 

***

Jongin sits in his car and stares at the flashing LED light with the club's name, and he sits back in his seat. He wants to drive out of this parking lot and never return. 

But, the way they cheer his name and empty out their pockets for him is something that will have him returning back. 

Jongin arrives at home to his townhome, which is gate operated. He pulls into the front of his house. He grabs his money and heads into his home. He inserts his keys.

He tosses the bags of money at the door. He kicks off his shoes and heads upstairs to take a shower. 

Seeing you was more than emotional. He didn't know how he would respond to you. Nor did he see if he wanted to even talk to you. 

His phone lights up, and he sees a car at his gate. He lifts his phone to see a red Corvette with the top down. He hits the button to open the gate. 

What is it that you want this late? Did you come to say that you no longer need his services?

Jongin heads downstairs and opens the door. He watches you get out of the car and head up the stairs.

Your strapless jean jumpsuit dress hugs your body just right. Your red heels make you a bit taller, but still not taller than him. 

Jongin raises an eyebrow, and you lift your infamous Gucci bag packed with his favorite toys. 

"So, do you want to get fucked out here on your porch or do you want to invite me in?" You ask him. 

"Come in and fuck me."

***

You push Jongin against the couch, and he smirks at how you manhandled him.

You would be a fool to not want to fuck him after seeing him perform tonight. Everybody is probably going home to masturbate after the performance Jongin delivered tonight. 

"Jongin, my pretty boy." You lean forward and sit down on his lap cowgirl style. You whisper against his ear and nibble as you feel him rise underneath you. 

"I'm yours?" Jongin breathes out. 

"For tonight, yes." You reply. You run your red fingernails down the center of his chest. "Can I taste you? Ya know to reward you for doing such a great job tonight."

"Of course, mistress," Jongin moans. 

The aura of this man is so powerful, yet in your presence, this beauty is so submissive to you. No one would ever believe it if you told them. But, you wouldn't care. 

You move down his waist and get down onto the floor. Your knees dig into the soft light carpet supporting you. You reach up to help me get out of those sweaters. His dick springs to action because he isn't wearing any underwear.  

"Damn, you're always so hard for me," you whisper, tracing your fingers along his length.

"Fuck, I've missed you, daddy."

Jongin loves to call you different things whenever you two are intimate, but daddy is the one thing you love the most. He's the only guy to ever do it. 

"Mmm… I haven't heard that name in months." You grab his dick and swirl your tongue around the head. Your core tingles, and you work your mouth up and down on him. 

"Please.." Jongin emits a moan, and it makes your heart flutter.

This was your favorite way to see the real Jongin. With his legs spread for you and moaning and panting. You haven't even really got into it, and already you are bringing him close to his release. 

"Please? What? You like it? Or you want me to stop?" You taunt him. 

"No, please keep going. I'm not going to last," he whimpers. 

Of course, he's not. He always reacts to you so well. You love that about him. It doesn't take a lot for him to come. He's been like this since you two first fucked. 

"You know other people might not like how easily you cum, but I'm honored how fast I can make you come."

"I know.. I'm only like this with you."

You stop and sit up on your knees. You watch his eyes spring open, and he looks down at you. "Why'd you stop?"

"You need to work for that nut, sir." 

You lie back against the carpet with your legs open. Showing him you’re pretty pussy without any underwear.

You want to taste his nut on your tongue, but you want to make him work for it. You know he's always up for a challenge. 

"Eat me until I come, Nini."

Jongin doesn't hesitate, moves down on the floor, and holds onto your legs as his tongue probes your sensitive region. You can feel the heat building inside you as Jongin's skilled tongue works its magic. You moan and writhe under his touch. 

One thing about him is he knows how to please you and will do all he can to ensure you know it.

His tongue explores your slit, and he catches your juices dripping down because of how turned on you are from hearing him moan for you. 

You could get off just from hearing him moan. You have in the past, recorded the audio of two of you having sex and used it for your personal time when you were alone.

Jongin sticks a finger inside you, and your body reacts to him quickly. He pulls it out and sucks it on his finger. You love the sight of seeing feast on you. 

He pushes two fingers inside of you and does the same thing again. "I've missed your sweet taste. Nobody taste like you."

Jongin leans down and kisses your pussy. His soft lips against yours make your body jolt. He is getting lost in pleasing you. Everything he does feels so good.

You can feel the heat building up inside you as Jongin continues exploring your body with his fingers. You moan softly, lost in the pleasure he is giving you. His kisses are gentle and loving, making you feel cherished and desired.

Jongin kisses on your pearl while he fingers you. You ride his fingers until you squirt all over them. He sucks your juices off his fingers. Jongin moves down and replaces his tongue where his fingers were to slurp out the rest of your release. You grab the back of his head while he sucks the soul of your body. 

"Fuck, Jongin!" You cry out and continue to ride the wave of your orgasm. It feels too good, and now you're sensitive to the touch. You push him off of you. 

Jongin lies next to you and you get down to his dick. You are on the right side of him and sucking him faster than before.

No one has eaten your pussy like that since you were last with him, so you know he's earned the right to come. 

You stick your finger in your dripping pussy to wet your finger. You stick it into his ass. He's always liked it, especially when you give him head. 

"Shit.. you know I love when you do that, daddy, please," Jongin whines. 

Just like that, he comes so hard in your mouth, and you swallow it. You love the taste of him. You climb on top of him. 

"Tonight is just an one time, thing, okay? If you're going to be at the club for a month. I don't want us to mess around. Cool?"

"Yea, of course. We're just getting it out of system."

"Exactly."

You stand up, unzip your jean dress, and toss it on the couch. You grab your Gucci bag and head upstairs. You still have your heels on. 

You make your way to his bedroom. You grab your strap-on and put it on. You sit on the bed and wait for him to come upstairs. You pour lube on your strap-on and coat it perfectly. 

Jongin comes upstairs. He's completely nude. He gets on top of you and slides down onto your strap-on. You feel the weight of his body on top of you as he starts to move back and forth. 

You lean back against the bed and watch him bounce on it. You like watching him fuck himself on your strap. 

"You're so.. naughty. Jongin. You're fucking yourself on my strap. You missed me that bad?" You coax him. 

"Maybe," he giggles. 

You slap his ass and grab it while he continues to ride you. In some weird way, you still have feelings for him.

Something you probably won't admit to him, and you don't know how you'll be able to survive a month with him at the club. 

"Maybe? You're acting like a whore."

"Cause you make me this way."

You lift him up and hold on to him while keeping the strap inside. You lay him on the bed on his back. You hold his legs open while you stroke into him. 

"Now stroke yourself, whore," You instruct him, and he obeys you. 

You grind your hips and continue to pound his tight ass. You miss moments like this. You know he's needy for the next nut by how he's jacking his dick. 

Your hand covers his as you pump harder until him until he comes again. 

"I love you, Jongin," You lean forward and slip your tongue into his mouth. 

"I love you, too, Daddy."

The two of you fall asleep in his bed, and the following day you wake up. Jongin still is sleeping, and you sit on the edge of the bed. 

You look at your group chat with The Lee Twins. 

Ten: Where are you? Y/n

Taemin: Damn, you didn't come home last night. Are you really that mad at me? I'm really sorry, Y/n. 

You: It's okay. You're spot is being replaced for the month. I'll see you two soon. 

You know things are about to get crazy, but you know Jongin can take the club to new heights. 

Read Part 2

[kairiscorner]

HEY RIRIIIIII HI PUKI BEARRRR I HOPE UR DOING WELL TODAY 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

ANYWAYSSS

i been rewatching adventure time because like the new fiona and cake spin off show is making me AUAUAU and marshal lees new redesign is so AAAAAAAA

BUT ONTO MY POINT

HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER BUT ITS LIKE A SONG FIC (OR INSPIRED IDRC) BY THE SONG GOOD LITTLE GIRL SONG IN ADVENTURE TIME

BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE THAT SONGS SO HIM?? AND IF LIKE U WROTE THIS ID GO ACTUALLY FERAL

TYYYYY ILY RIIII (*^◯^*)

-🪴

HI LOVELYYYYY OH MY GOD, YES?????? i was an adventure time kid ever since i was like ... 5-7? THIS SHIT WAS MY JAM AS A KID, I'M SO FUCKING HAPPY ABOUT THE NEW SHOW, I HAVEN'T WATCHED IT YET THOUGH BUT I PLAN TO ... that scene in the original show really is so hobie x reader core omg, I LOVE ITTTT also i'm sorry but the 'puki' got me cackling – (imma explain in the comments if y'all want)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

he's such a bad little boy. – hobie brown x fem!reader

"good little girl... always picking a fight with me."

he was pretty much the most annoying asshole you've ever met–he never took anything about you seriously, pestered you a lot for your height, your grumpy face, your sour mood, your little huffs and puffs in response to his provocation... it was all too cute to him when you'd pick fights with him and be all angry and aggressive as usual. he loved the little banter you two shared, the sleepless nights you two would spend together just running your mouths off at each to sleep–and being pampered yet teased by him all the same. he was the best, worst friend you ever had in the history of ever... and you didn't want to lose him, no matter how annoying he was.

"you know that i'm bad... but you're spending the night with me."

"back so soon?" you ask him as he climbs into your window with his spider suit still on, only taking the mask off once you let him in your room and slumps in your bean bag, smirking all the while. "your room's pretty comfy, like how... good little girls keep their rooms as." he teased, making you pout and puff your cheeks up. "is that supposed to mean something, hobart?" you asked with extra emphasis on his name, making him smirk and shrug. "hey, now, it's up for interpretation." he said with a chuckle, making you groan loudly. "well, at least let me play your guitar. maybe... smash a few simpletons' heads in with this." you murmured as hobie gently took your hands in his, correcting your finger positions on his electric guitar.

"what do you want from my world? you're a good little girl..." he asks you, with slight rhetoric, knowing you were never one to disobey the rules and let alone wish to play loud, 'obstructive' music that would bother the neighbors. you sighed and followed hobie's lead, strumming and playing the right chords he taught you.

"bad little boy... that's what you're acting like."

"can't i choose to have fun, hobart?" you asked him with sarcasm in your tone, making him laugh. "of course, you can have everything you want–that's what good little girls like you deserve, right?" he said as he gently let go of your hands and let you figure out how to play a melody you came up with on the spot on your own. "it's just that... i never thought you'd be rebellious. never did, never will." he joked as you gave him a flat, fake laugh, knowing full well he was serious about what he said. "like, i can be the intimidating-like, 'rebellious' bloke or whatever for the two of us, at least outwardly. i'll take the trouble for you, that's enough, innit?"

"i really don't buy... that you're that kind of guy."

"nah. besides... that kind of hobie everyone else sees isn't the hobie i know." you said as you tuned his electric guitar. he raised an eyebrow at you in intrigue. "go on, dear." "well... you may be a little brash, loud, and you love telling assholes in authority to kiss your ass... but you aren't a total blockhead. you have a heart, you care, and you... you aren't as mean and scary as everyone thinks you are."

"and if you are... why do you want to hang out with me?" you asked him in a partly rhetorical way of your own this time–making hobie pause for a minute to look at you, and soon, burst into a sweet smile on his face. he gently pecked your cheek and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him with a satisfied sigh. "i just love to be around my good little girl... can't that be enough?" "then you're lucky i like being around my bad little boy..." you said with a sly smirk as hobie grinned and kissed your lips gently.

you truly were his bad little goody two shoes, and he loved you dearly for it.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @arachnoia @popeheywardssecretgf @euphovlq @rohansdisciple @conitagray

[therealdesitalk]

hi!!! since we're questioning stuff, i wanted to say this, it's been on my mind for a while now.....

what is bollywood trying to do making AND promoting films like 'animal' and 'kabir singh'?????

they are clearly promoting toxic masculinity and violence which is affecting the public sooooo much......and they got the nerve to defend it as well????!!!!!

there are sooooo many films now which promote violence......ranbir kapoor is an excellent actor, yet it's sad to see his most successful film was 'animal' and not 'barfi' which is actually touching.....you know why?? because this is exactly what people want to see, violence, uncontrolled rage and madness......

the uneducated section of the society is very influenced by this and this is pretty well known, then why make films like this???

why not make more films on moving topics THAT ACTUALLY FUCKING MATTER and cause people to change their mentality????

people are much more affected by movies than by books, especially in our country, where sadly, a large population still does not have access to books and education.....what's worse is that learned and educated people also don't actually fucking care and promote this kind of bullshit......

please share your opinion and also reblog.....i wanna hear more about this from different people as well......

Thanks for reaching out i appreciate you taking the time to ask a question, And i am happy that every girl is asking such questions to support each other

So namaste everyone

In my view many directors in India focus on making movies that make a lot of money. These movies often include things like sex, violence, and negative portrayals of women which have been popular for a long time. Unfortunately people have gotten used to these kinds of movies and directors care more about making money than about the impact their movies have on society however not all directors are like this. Some directors want to make movies that show women in a positive way It's important to support these directors and their movies so that we can have more respectful and inclusive films. But people don't give much attention to good movies if we create good marketing of good movies and make their good scenes go viral on the internet maybe it's possible that more people will watch good movies This way directors will also realize that people's preferences are changing

The Impact of Such Movies : Movies that glorify toxic masculinity and perpetuate misogyny can have a detrimental impact on society. They reinforce harmful gender norms, normalize abusive behavior and contribute to the marginalization of women. Additionally they can influence audience perceptions and attitudes shaping societal beliefs and behaviors. It's crucial to critically examine these movies and engage in discussions about their implications while also advocating for more socially responsible and inclusive storytelling in the film industry.

👉🏻 So Let's Jump On Some Questions 👈🏻

Why Male Directors Make Such Kind Of Movies?

Male dominated industry : The Indian film industry is largely controlled by men. This means that the stories being told are often filtered through a male lens and women are frequently portrayed in one dimensional or stereotypical ways.

Audience demand: There's a perception that a large section of the audience prefers these kinds of films. Masala movies with over the top action romance and violence have long been a staple of Bollywood and filmmakers may be reluctant to deviate from this formula for fear of losing box office revenue.

Societal factors: Sexism and misogyny are deeply ingrained in Indian society nd this is reflected in the films that are produced. Films often mirror and reinforce existing social prejudices making it difficult to break the cycle

👉🏻 So, What Can Be Done To Reduce Sexism In Indian Films?👈🏻

Encourage more women in filmmaking: Increasing the number of women in key decision making roles, such as directors, producers, and writers, can help bring about a more balanced perspective in films.

Because guys! if movies are made from a female perspective there will be significant changes seen in the movie industry so encourage your friends and cousins to talk about these things

Make Everyone Aware! Aware! Aware! :

If someone in your house talks about movies like "Animal" and "Kabir Singh" and says it's just a movie sit down and explain to them that what you watch is not normal. Even if you receive negative feedback you know what your job is - make everyone around you aware of this issue. Don't let these movies be normalized which people have modernized.

Take Advantage Of The Internet : Promote Media Literacy educate the public through internet especially young people about media literacy and critical thinking skills teach them to analyze and question the messages portrayed in movies on Instagram, Twitter (X) Reddit , Facebook , Blogs including recognizing and challenging harmful stereotypes and representations

👇🏻👇🏻

Last note : And we should keep hyping movies like women empowerment on the internet. We have the internet in our hands so let's make good use of it. Otherwise what's the point of sitting and thinking about what's happening in society? Don't just think do something even if it's a small step like what I'm doing with my blog. I know that not many girls will reach it but those who do are a big number for me. So, spread women empowerment movies and their scenes everywhere on the internet whether they are old or not just make them viral and spread awareness through social media and blogs

Thanks everyone. Please Reblog this. 🪷🦢🐚

[jagibee]

Call Me Luna Info

Hello dear readers, Mari speaking!

I just wanted to lay down some basic info about my story so that things are clear

- This story will probably not include super explicit smut unless or until I become more comfortable writing it, but due to heavy discussion of sex and suggestive scenes, this is an 18+ work, so it please respect that and MDNI

- The reader has an AFAB body and uses she/her pronouns and I think at some point I will have her wear skirts/dresses, and I decided to divide SKZ in half in regards to how old everyone is compared to the reader for the purpose of honorifics, but I looped Hyunjin in with the younger half since they were born in the same year. I also might have a background for character motivation purposes, so just oc family members and their secondary genders. Other than that, I try to keep it pretty neutral including race, religion, etc. Unfortunately I am limited to my own experiences, so if you feel like I’m not keeping it neutral or I am portraying something incorrectly or problematically, feel free to say something!

- I have ADHD and will deadass forget this story exists unless I have people interacting with me, so please do!

- My chapters will probably be over 1,000 words but I’m really inconsistent other than that so good luck

- This isn’t meant to be an exact biography of Stray Kids obviously so I’m not putting pressure on them or forcing them to be together or anything, also they have less managers and choreographers and sound people just because I don’t really feel like including all of that

- I’ll update when I want

- This is my story, so if you don’t like it, you can just leave without reading anymore!

- This story will deal with physical, verbal, and psychological abuse, as well as slight substance abuse, eating disorders, and mental health issues so please don’t read this if any of these affect you negatively

- Again, I can only go off of my experience so the way the characters in this story deal with things is not meant to be the “correct way” and it may not be relatable to everyone

- If you guys have any theories or ideas for what will happen next, let me know! It’s fun to see how people interpret writing (and maybe I’ll get my next plot point idea😁)

- I really don’t know what direction this will take so I’ll be adding trigger warnings as needed for individual chapters, and if there’s something that I haven’t tagged properly, please tell me! I want everyone to have a good experience with this story

- This story will have cursing, that’s just the way I think and write (and I think we all know the kids curse off camera)

- When any character uses English, I’ll show it like “‘“this”’”

- I’m shit at titles so….. we’re doing chapter numbers, but I might add chapter names later

- Tag list is open! You can send in an ask or message me if you want in! My tumblr is a bit fucked up so I can’t really respond to replies, but I always add you even if I don’t answer

- However, being on my taglist and being able to read my work is ultimately up to me, so if you do or say something that I dislike, I have no problem with blocking you

- I am fine with comments like “can’t wait for the next chapter!” but if it’s something more like “when’s the next part😡” consider it an automatic block, sorry not sorry!

- Liking and reblogging are always appreciated!

- Really, just have fun, stay positive, and (hopefully) enjoy the ride!

Info Regarding ABO

- omegas have heats three times a year for 7-10 days

- alphas have ruts twice a year for 3-6 days

- betas have slips once a year for 4-5 days

- heats include abdomen cramping, change of the omega’s scent, a need to nest, slick, and horniness for most

- heat suppressants are common, they don’t completely take away everything, there is still usually mild cramping, change of the omega’s scent and a need to nest, though they are pretty moderate

- ruts include a stronger scent of the alpha, possessiveness, need to mark their partner or partners, aggression, headaches, and horniness for most

- rut suppressants aren’t nearly as common as heat suppressants but they can tone down a rut to only include headaches, slightly stronger scent, and a bit of aggression

- slips include betas getting a stronger sense of smell and touch and they become very sensitive both physically and emotionally

- slip suppressants are very rare and only tone down a slip by about 20% while making the beta emotionally numb so many don’t like taking suppressants even when they have access

- there are no specific alpha scents or beta scents or omega scents, but in this universe, people can still identify someone’s secondary gender based on their scent

- scent glands are on the wrists and neck but if you put blockers on the neck, the body automatically stops releasing scents from the wrist gland

- scent blockers also lessen the wearer’s sense of smell

- wrist to wrist scentings are for acquaintances, neck to wrists are for good friends, and neck to necks are basically the equivalent of saying “I want you in my life forever” which can be platonic, familial, or romantic

And now onto the masterlist!