#this was.... something to chew on for me you know?

[gojotojis]

The After Party pt.2

Part 1 Part 3

summary: You’re extremely confused about sukuna kissing you but your body craves him and maybe your heart too.

pairing: college sukuna x college fem reader

content MDNI: angst, pining, bestfriends brother, frenemies to lovers, loss of virginity, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, vaginal sex, overstimulation, praise kink, soft sukuna, fluff, aftercare, blood

It’s been a week since Sukuna made you cum with nothing but a kiss. You avoid him like the plague, unfortunately you have classes with Choso so you at least have to see him.

You’re so confused by your kiss with Sukuna that your hurt over Choso faded into the background. That one kiss crumbled years of pining after Choso.

You’re so frustrated and you have so many questions but you have to face the facts. Sukuna is a raging asshole, that’s been nothing but mean to you, and was sickeningly cruel to you at the party.

He’s said mean things that you’ve often let slide because he’s Sukuna but he kissed you and it changed the trajectory of everything.

You think about the disgustingly inappropriate comments he’s made and the fact that he’s fucked half the student body. This has to be a game for him, there’s no other explanation, and you refuse to play any part in it.

You’re hesitant to join Choso for lunch but he’s dragging you to the cafeteria. You simply grab some omurice and water before taking a seat at your usual table. You guys haven’t talked about the party or much at all, you don’t want but it’s obvious he does.

“What happened at the party with Sukuna, it’s like you two just kept ripping into eachother. He refuses to talk about it,” Choso says as you push your food around on your plate.

You feel angry at Sukuna and yourself, how could he be so selfish but how could you be so stupid.

“Nothing,” you mumble, before you finally take a bite of your food. Choso doesn’t believe you but he doesn’t push and you’re grateful for that.

You feel distant from him even though he’s rights here, why didn’t he tell you about Yuki? You’re suppose to be his bestfriend and yet he didn’t tell you something so big, but at the same time you don’t tell him that his brother made you cum with nothing but his mouth pressed to yours. You’re truly mortified by that, cringing as you relive the way your body trembled against his.

You’re not sure why but you ask Choso a question that’s been on your mind since you left the party. “Did Sukuna have sex with Kiko?.

His brows raise unsure of why it matters to you but he shrugs, “Probably,” he says, and you nod. You hate the feeling that takes over, like you’ve been used but you force it down.

The libraries quiet and probably the only thing you love about your school. You chew on the tip of your pen as you read over Bram Stokers Dracula, embarrassingly engrossed that you don’t notice when someone takes a seat across you.

Large tattooed hands appear in front of you, covering the pages and gripping the book till they’re closing it and sliding it away from you. Your heart thumps heavily in your chest and your cheeks burn as you look up.

Sukuna reads over the title before sliding it back to you and you hold your breath, waiting to hear what dreadful words will leave his mouth.

“You really gonna fucking ignore me?” He asks and you feel the urge to roll your eyes. If you’re delusional, well he’s just fucking insane.

“Ignore you? Sukuna, we’ve only hung out when Choso’s around, do you see him around?” you ask looking around the library for dramatic effect. You watch the way his jaw ticks, like you’re annoying him.

“You know what I’m talking about, want me to shout it across the library? The way you came against me and ran off?” He asks and your skin turns hot.

“That never happened!” You whisper yell and he leans back with a smug grin.

“The wet patch you left on my shirt says otherwise,” he says and your eyes widen, all you can do is pray that God smites you where you sit.

“Please stop. You got what you wanted, I don’t want to play into your games. This is drawing a line, torment me, make fun of me but please don’t use me,” you say genuinely and his brows furrow. You’re so stupid it’s cute.

“Is that what you think this is?” He asks and you sigh.

“You’ve done nothing but torment me, you’ve made fun of my body, my clothes, my looks, my intelligence, why would I think anything else?” You ask and his features soften for a fraction of a second.

“They’re jokes,” he says like that’s suppose to make it okay and you shake your head.

“You took things too far. Those ‘jokes’ speak volumes about what you think of me,” you answer and he leans forward.

“You don’t have a clue what I think of you,” he says and your fingers grip the edge of your chair. He’s growing agitated and it’s obvious at the amount of times his jaw ticks.

“I do. And let’s not forget how you manipulated me into going to that party, you told me Choso and Yuki were going to have sex but the whole time you knew they already had. You’re actually sick,” you say and he glares at you.

“You don’t have a clue what sick is, sick is watching you follow my brother around like a fucking puppy. Sick is making up excuses to third wheel with you two fucking imbeciles, sick is wanting someone you can’t have,” he says, his voice is rough and harsh.

Your insides burn as you take his words in, still not sure what he’s saying.

“I don’t understand,” you admit, and his hand grips the back of your head, pulling your lips to his. It’s sweet and gentle, the opposite of what he wants but he knows you’ll move to Russia if he makes you orgasm again in the library.

He pulls away, hand sliding to grip the side of your neck. His forehead presses against yours as you conclude what he’s trying to say. He likes you.

“Why,” you whisper, too scared to pull away and look him in the eyes. He doesn’t know what to say, he’s not use to this and he can’t force himself to tell you how he feels with words. He’s the most honest and blunt person you know but this has him stumped.

“We can’t,” you whisper. It’s Sukuna, Choso’s brother, the boy that chased you with worms, the boy that mixed slime in your hair, the boy that poured salt in your water.

“I know,” he says and it fills you with disappointment. You shouldn’t be disappointed, you don’t want this, you don’t want him.

“It’s gonna be Choso, it’s always gonna be him,”he says, his voice empty and wrong. Choso was the farthest thing from your mind since Sukuna kissed you. Your brain feels fried, trying to bring clarity to a head of jumbled thoughts.

You don’t owe Sukuna anything, not after all that he’s done but the thought of this being it, this being the end of any sense of normality for you two feels saddening. You two stay pressed together, your hair a curtain around you. You’re afraid that once you pull away, you’ll never see him again and if you do, it’ll never be the same.

“Kiko’s nice,” you say, and you feel his forehead wrinkle against yours.

“I don’t like her,” he says, his breath fanning your lips. You subtly inhale the aftertaste of cinnamon and spice with a hint of smoke.

“You had sex with her,” you say.

“I did,” he answers and you pull away. He slightly panics at your expression as you reach for your book.

“A long time ago, I didn’t touch her that night. I didn’t touch anyone,”he says, it shouldn’t matter to you but it does. He relaxes as you let go of your book, not making a move to leave.

He’s fucked up a lot of things up between you, he knows that but all he knows how to do is hurt and take. Choso said he was never the same after their mom died, so afraid to let anyone in.

When he realized all you saw was Choso, he didn’t know how to react but pick on you. When it became clear Choso didn’t want you but you kept trying, something in him turned to rage.

Seeing you cry sobered him up, he was never suppose to hurt you and somehow that got lost along the way. He grew comfortable with your banter, the only way he got a reaction from you, the only way he could get you to talk to him.

But he accepted a long time ago that you two would never be anything, until he saw you crying because of him. Every fiber of his being begged him to comfort you, so he did the only way he knows how, by taking.

He was greedy and when you kissed him back, maybe the idea of you wasn’t so unobtainable anymore.

He looks at you, the conflicting thoughts so clear on your face and he knows what he has to do. He’s not good enough for you, he doesn’t know if he ever will be. He can end this all for you, the hurt, the confusion and finally give you the peace you’ve always wanted.

“I don’t think we should be around eachother anymore,” he says and you inhale. You should be so grateful, to finally be free of him but this feels painful. Your heart feels like it’s breaking, worse than when you found out Choso slept with Yuki.

You blink back tears several time and shove your book into your bag. “Goodbye Sukuna,”.

You sob, violently into your mother’s lap as she threads her fingers through your hair. You tell her everything from your crush on Choso to Sukuna kissing you and deciding you two shouldn’t see eachother. You leave out the explicit details but it’s enough to paint the picture.

“He’s a sweet boy, just troubled,” your mother says, she’d always defended Sukuna, growing up when nobody else would. She always made sure he was included between you and Choso.

“Why am I not happy?” you ask, confused on why you’re sobbing.

“You like him, and it hurts” she whispers as hot tears roll down your cheeks. You had never cried over Choso like this, you’re literally hicupping as your sobs die down. Your face is red and puffy as you stare at the blank wall ahead of you.

“You know how he feels, you felt that over Choso. He’s hurting and he may never admit that but just because he says you can’t see eachother anymore, doesn’t mean it’s what he wants” she says and you think about those words.

You’re not even sure what you want, but you’d rather have him making fun of your outfits and the way you walk than to not have him at all. You’ve been so blinded by Choso that nothing else has ever mattered until now.

You like Sukuna, so fucking much and it hurts more than anything else. The sound of thunder and rain pouring, snaps you from your thoughts and you sit up like a light bulbs gone off.

You’re not sure what you’ll say, or if he’ll reject you but you have to fix this. You thank your mom before you’re running out of her room and down the stairs, you shove your feet into your tennis shoes and open the front door.

It’s pouring rain, but you don’t care. You close the door behind you and break off into a sprint, a few streets over to Sukunas house.

By the time you reach the door, you’re completely drenched from head to toe and shivering as your fist knocks on the door. Nobody comes and you sigh, ringing the doorbell several times until you hear the locks click.

Sukuna answers and your breathing hitches.

“Choso’s not here,” he says and you shake your head.

“I’m not here for him, I wanted to talk to you,” you say shaking. He wants to tell you no but you look on the verge of hypothermia, so he pulls you inside. You feel bad about the puddle that forms underneath you.

“You’re shaking,” he says and you nod, teeth chattering as he grabs your wrist and guides you upstairs. You stand awkwardly at the entrance of his room as he opens his dresser.

You stare at the paused video game on his desktop before he’s handing you a white shirt and a pair of boxers.

You enter his bathroom and change into them, rolling up the boxers till they disappear under the shirt, you dry your hair with his towel before you step out.

He’s sitting on the edge of his bed and you fiddle with your fingers as you walk toward him.

“I don’t want to stop talking to you, I don’t want to stop being around you. If that’s what you really want then I’ll have no choice but to accept it. You should know my thoughts though,” you say and he looks up at you with hesitancy but you continue.

“I like you, more than a friend. I don’t think I deserved the way that you treated me but despite it all, I like you. And the thought of not seeing you makes my heart hurt, I’m sorry I never saw you the way you wanted me to but I do now, just please don’t hurt me,” you say staring down at the carpet.

You feel hands grip your waist and he pulls you between his legs. You lean your forehead against his and close your eyes.

“You don’t deserve what I did, any of it and I’ll spend everyday making up for it. But I love you, and I’m sorry, for everything,” he says, the words feel strange on his tongue but it’s the truth.

“You love me?” you ask and he nods against you.

“Since middle school,” he says and you actually start crying, you know that pain and you hate that you put him through it. You straddle his lap and slide your arms underneath his till they’re hugging him.

His body engulfs yours and you slump against him, soaking up the warmth that radiates from him. His hands slip up under his your shirt and rub against your icy skin, leaving trails of heat with his touch.

“You’re freezing, baby” he says, the pet name shooting straight to your core as you try to bury yourself closer to him.

You look up at his lips, so soft and plump. Your fingers graze them and he pretends to bite you, making you giggle until he leans down and kisses you. It’s sweet but you want more, you nip at his bottom lip and his mouth opens.

Your tongue grazes the roof of his mouth, teasingly before it licks at his. He’s licking around your lips, your teeth and then he sucks on your tongue which drives you crazy. You both feel your nipples harden and you feel the bulge beneath you, pressing up into you.

You gasp when his hands squeeze your hips tighter and pushes you down against it. The pressure has you grinding against him, it feels so good, too good.

You cry when his hands slide into your shorts and squeeze your ass, his touch is bruising and rough but it turns you on. You feel your arousal dripping through your shorts, desperate for release until he stills your movements and you whine.

“What do you want?” He asks, breathing heavily. You’re too shy to speak so instead you fingers reach for the hem of your shirt and lift it over your head. You grab one of his hands and shove his index and middle finger into your mouth, you lick at the digits and suck on them.

“Fuck…” he groans as you pull them out and rub them over your nipple, you bite your lip and make the cutest face at how good it feels. He’s pulling his fingers away and his mouth latches on instead, you moan, fingers digging into his scalp as he sucks your tit and his tongue licks around your nipple, tugging it with his teeth before biting down on it and he does the same to the other one.

“So fucking sexy,” he breathes licking all around your tits till your chest is covered in saliva. You grind against him, seeking any sort of relief from the ache in your pussy but nothing works until he’s lifting you off of him laying you on your back.

“You sure you want to do this?” He asks and you nod desperately. You need him inside of you, you need to relieve this ache.

His fingers skim the band of your shorts before tugging them down, you squeeze your legs together. You’re completely naked now and are scared of what he’ll think. Your legs shake as his hands rest on your thighs before spreading them open.

“So fucking pretty,” he breathes looking at your pussy, soaked and swollen from need.

“Please,” you beg, and he presses a kiss to your belly only making you ache more. He’s so gentle, it’s unlike him but he loves you and he knows this is your first time. You squeeze your belly when you feel a finger glide up your cunt, and your legs instinctively go to close but his hands immediately press down on them.

“Sorry,” you squeak and he chuckles, it’s not arrogant or malicious, it’s a whole hearted laugh that makes you smile.

“It’s okay baby, just relax. I gotta stretch you out, so you can take me,” he says so casually but the words feel so filthy as they reach your ears. His fingers graze your clit and slowly start flicking it making you press your hips further into the matresss, his thumb swipes over it before you feel something prodding at your hole and you gasp when it pushes inside of you.

He watches your pussy swallow his finger, clenching around it as you try to relax. It’s feels so good, really good and he curls it making you sit up on your elbows. You watch him insert a second finger and your mouth forms into an O. You buck your hips against his hand, riding his fingers and his thumb rubs circles into your clit.

“Feels so good,” you cry out feeling his lips kiss each of your inner thighs. Your eyes open and watch his fingers fuck into you. You can hear the squelching your pussy makes around them and it becomes too much.

Your stomach tightens and you clench around him, feeling yourself cum. Your eyes widen when he starts slamming his fingers into you, fucking into you with brute force.

“Too much, too much, I can’t I can’t,” you cry as your body spasms around him, eyes rolling back.

“You can baby, one more,” he says and you break, your pussy sprays all over him and the bed. You feel mortified as he stares at your pussy, retracting his fingers.

“Need you to do that around my cock,” he says, and your cheeks redden watching him bring his fingers to his mouth and lick at them.

Your eyes close at the sight before they open to see him lifting his shirt off. His body is so muscular and sexy, your finger itch to feel the muscle. You bite your lip, you’re really about to have sex with him.

He pushes his sweatpants and boxers down in one motion and you feel scared when his cock slaps against his stomach, thick, long and so swollen. Angry veins protrude around it as he smears precum over the tip.

He looks to you and starts pumping it in his hand. He wants to fuck you till you can’t walk, till the only person on your mind is him and the only name you can speak is his but this is about you.

Your pussy clenches as he kneels onto the bed, crawling to you and his fingers graze your lips, smearing precum on them and you lick them. You can’t begin to imagine how many times he’s dreamed of this, dreamed of being inside you.

Your arms wrap around his neck, whimpering when you feel him slap his cock against your cunt, he nudges the tip against your clit, rubbing them against eachother. The feeling is so erotic and you buck against him. Your hands squeeze together when you feel him nudging his tip inside of you.

“Need you to be a good girl and relax,” he says and you nod, loosening your muscles and your hold around his neck. You’re scared but you know he won’t hurt you, not intentionally, not anymore.

He slowly pushes into you, the stretch burns and you cry. It feels like he’s splitting you open.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay,” he says pressing a kiss to your cheeks, before his mouth is on yours and his thumb rubs against your clit to ease and distract you as he keeps pushing into you.

You squeeze around him, loving the way his tongue fucks yours. He pushes past the tight ring of muscle and you squeeze your thighs around him, his hands gripping your hips as he bottoms out.

Full. You feel so fucking full.

He slowly pulls out and looks down to the creamy red ring around his cock and pushes back in. His hips roll against yours earning several moans from you. Your hands slide up his arms until they’re clutching his biceps.

His movements are slow but he’s fucking deep into you, you feel his cock kiss your cervix with each thrust. You look at him with big doe and watery eyes, lips swollen and parted. His hips move harder against yours and your eyes water more at the sensation.

“Harder,” you beg and feel him pull out leaving you empty until he slams into you and your back arches, clutching to him tightly.

“So fucking tight,” he groans bucking into you. Your crying turns into full on sobs as he fucks into you, the room fills with the sounds of your wet pussy swallowing the fuck out of him.

“You’re mine now, nobody else’s,” he says rutting into you, all you can do is nod through your sobs. “Such a good fucking girl,” he breathes against your lips, feeling your tits bounce against him with each thrust.

“My” thrust. “Fucking” thrust. “Girl” thrust.

“Yours,” you cry out and his tongue swipes your lips.

“I need this pretty pussy to squirt on my cock, you think you can do that baby?” He asks feeling you shake against him and you nod. He moans as you clench around him and he beats into your cervix, the sound of your skin slapping against his has you tightening until you can’t take it anymore and you start gushing around him. You spray his cock and his stomach, dripping down the bed.

His eyes are focused on his cock fucking into you, the way your pussy swallows him like you can’t let go and he forces more from you. Watching the way you keep squirting and your body spasms around him, arms tightening around his neck.

“I gotta cum inside you,” he says, you’re too cock drunk to register his words.

“Please” you beg as he pounds into you, you cry, arms circling around him bouncing off his cock. Liquid just gushing from you endlessly, so overstimulated you keep orgasming around him.

He grunts with one final thrust and you feel something hot and thick shoot up into you, it doesn’t stop, his cock twitches inside of you, filling you to the brim with thick ropes of cum.

You sag against him until he finally pulls out of you, you feel empty as he lifts you off the bed and carries you to his bathroom. He sets you down to pee while he changes the sheets.

Your pussy burns from being split open but you feel so content when he comes back. He wets a rag and wipes your blood and your mixed cum from his dick. You feel so tired once you’re done, he lifts you up and you wrap your arms around his neck your head resting against his shoulder , legs clinging around his waist. He pushes your hair out of your face and kisses your nose.

“You did so good baby,” he whispers, which earns him a tired smile as he walks you to his bed. He lays down with you still wrapped around him, lying atop his chest.

You feel his fingers trace circles into your naked hip as he kisses the top of your head.

“I love you,” he says as you close your eyes.

pt 1. pt.3

this has been so fun to write, I hope this is good. Thank you all for your support and kind words! Y’all this got flagged, I about cried…

@whosmarjj @getoxmahito @officialholyagua @adollsdarkdiary @jazzyysstuff @denenene @xra1 @bbyxxm @aqxllo @allofffmypeaches @evelynxx8 @deepenthevoid @aerithsthingss

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Okay, so I’m weirdly into the idea of being someone’s estranged wife???

Imagine being Patrick’s estranged wife?? Like maybe he married you bc he couldn’t have Tashi and then just…never signed the divorce papers? And now he’s knocking on your door bc there’s a challenger he’s gonna play in buttttt his bank account’s a little low so could he pretty please crash with you? He’ll sleep on his couch and be on his best behavior, he swears

Queue him crawling into bed with you at 2 am bc it’s cold in the living room and you’re soft and pretty and whoops, he’s hard

Ooo love this

Warnings: Fingering, Patrick Being Patrick, bitter and estranged ex-wife Reader

"You have any chicken nuggets?"

"What are you, five?"

"Adults can enjoy chicken nuggets."

They certainly could, but you didn't grace that reply with a response, just watched with tepid interest as he rifled through the contents of your fridge.

A single phrase kept resounding in your mind:

I should've left him on the doorstep.

And maybe you should have. It wouldn't be the first time that you'd given Patrick the cold shoulder, and it wouldn't be the first time that he just parked in your driveway and slept in his car. But you just couldn't stand the sight of him out in the cold, pouting and gnawing on his lower lip in the fish-eye lens of your peephole.

"Why don't we order a pizza?" He tacked on.

We. It was always 'we' with him, but never in the action, or the cost—that was a 'you' action, not a 'we' more often than not.

"Who's paying for it?" You asked. Patrick turned to you with a dopey, guilty little smile affixed to his lips as he cocked his hip.

"Well until I sign the papers, the two shall be as one, right?"

"Yeah—Why haven't you signed, by the way?"

"Your guy's never been able to serve 'em." He turned back to the fridge, ducking his head as he looked around. "You got any beer?"

You rolled your eyes. "Third shelf, at the back."

"Bingo. Want one?"

"Not right now. But thanks for offering me something that I bought and paid for. Really appreciate it."

Patrick huffed a soft laugh as he turned toward you again, opening the beer against the edge of the counter.

"Mine mine mine," He teased. "What is it with you and what's yours, huh?"

"Just stating facts, Zweig."

"So self-righteous, Mrs. Zweig." He used your married name with a vinegary smile before taking a deep swig from his bottle, pointedly ignoring the way that you bristled. "So. Pizza?"

--

Just the couch.

Patrick had pleaded it between bites of pizza, scrubbing the back of his hand across his mouth to clear the crumbs and oil left behind. He'd framed it as a reasonable enough request, like it was the easiest thing in the world to let your estranged husband back into your home.

You won't even know I'm there.

As if you hadn't been fighting to find a harmony within yourself for the last year, trying to serve him papers for the last six months, to get your divorce to take, to rid yourself of his last name.

Watching him sort through the garbage bags of clothing that you'd packed up for him to come and take between tours had been a little pitiful, but he'd unearthed what he'd needed to sleep in.

"Still have a toothbrush for me?" He asked.

"No."

"Face wash?"

"Don't you just use soap?"

"Yeah, but you put me on that, uh—That regimen, that routine."

"You never followed it."

"So you threw the stuff out?"

"I wasn't using it, so. Yeah."

"Huh." Patrick straightened, PJs in hand. You couldn't help but watch him strip off as he passed you, eyeing the ripple of his back muscles as he tossed his shirt in the direction of his bag.

"I'm showering," He called over his shoulder, "If you'd like to join me."

"I'd rather chew glass, but thanks."

--

He was sleeping. He had to be, right? It didn't matter if he was or wasn't. It didn't matter that Patrick Zweig was asleep on your couch, just a floor away. It didn't matter that you were worked up, at the midpoint between pissed off and turned on.

How did he always manage to do that to you?

You should've been able to clock early on that it was trouble. None of your friends or family thought it would work out, and you'd been chagrined when they'd been right. For as much as you had once loved him, for as certain as you and Patrick had been sure you would fit, that you would fix whatever needed fixing, no matter what fate had in store for you, you just...Couldn't.

It didn't help that he had been chasing glory on the court, or that you had spent your relationship trying to fill the shoes of a woman that you could never be. It didn't help that the two of you were just fundamentally different, in ways that you either of you were unwilling to compromise. When he'd left, it hadn't been a surprise, but it had been so goddamn hard to serve him papers. But you'd had such trouble trying to pin him down during your relationship, why should the way you broke be any different?

But when you'd been in bed together—Hell, you'd been even more certain that it could work. You and Patrick just fit. Things had been so right with so little conversation or hesitation. Your needs had fueled one another's, and you'd been able to lose yourself in him. It should have been enough.

But it wasn't then, and it wasn't now.

He was asleep. He had a match the next morning, and he needed his rest. You could do the same—You should do the same. You needed to be staring at the ceiling right now like you need a goddamn hole in the head. You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes and doing your best to focus on your breathing. In for five... Hold...Out...For...Five...In for...One...Two...Three...Four...

Your eyes opened, your breath catching as you heard the door open. You held completely still as you heard the door close again, chased by the soft pad of feet along your floor before the mattress dipped beside you. The covers shifted, lifting and falling as he laid down.

"Are you asleep?" He murmured. It was another moment before his palm skimmed across your belly, his rough cheek nuzzling against the curve of your shoulder. Your breath left you in a soft sigh, your muscles untensing bit by bit.

"I know you haven't been here in a while," You muttered, "But this is not the couch."

He huffed a soft laugh. "I know," He snuggled closer, and it was just a moment before you felt the press of his cock against your hip. You drew in a shaky breath, hands lowering to his arm.

"Patrick," You mumbled. "You should be asleep."

"I can't sleep." His teeth scraped along your jaw as his fingers snaked under the hem of your nightshirt.

"Indigestion?" You squeaked. "Shouldn't've had that third slice of pizza. I told you not to."

Your eyes squeezed shut as he rolled his hips against you.

"This feel like pizza to you?"

"Well—"

"Baby," He pleaded. "You gonna tell me you didn't miss me?"

It took you a moment, and you couldn't help your slight squirming.

"Not even a little."

He laughed again, and you knew that you hadn't been able to sneak a thing by him.

"You don't have to lie. I saw you watching me." He tipped his chin up, sucking a tender kiss to your neck. And you had, but—

"I wasn't."

Patrick tutted disapprovingly. You shuddered, arching up into his touch as his thumb skimmed across your hardening nipple.

"You're a shitty liar, you know that?"

"You're an asshole," You hissed as Patrick lifted his head.

"You like it."

You couldn't get a word out to argue as Patrick's tongue swept between your lips. You whimpered in spite of yourself, sinking back against your pillows and raising your hand to fist in his hair. He was over you in a moment, body shoving your thighs wide as his hands rucked up the bottom of your sleep shirt. You drew in a sharp breath as his head dipped to catch one of your nipples between his lips. You tightened your grip on his, shivering as he teased it with his tongue.

Patrick's hips ground against yours, rolling against where you're growing slick in your sleep shorts.

"How long's it been?" He murmured, "Huh? Since me?"

And it was too embarrassing to say—too embarrassing to admit that you hadn't slept with anyone since Patrick left.

"Shut up," You hissed, "Just—Please, shut up."

His hand snuck beneath the hem of your shorts, swiping gently across your tender clit, and he grinned as your hips hitched up into his deft touch.

"S'okay," He cooed as he eased a couple of fingers into your tight, aching cunt. "I missed you, too."

--

"You gonna come watch me play?"

As with the rest of the last day or so, your answer should be no. You didn't turn to look at Patrick as you rummaged through your dresser for something to wear.

"I've seen you play, Patrick."

"Not lately." He tried again: "It's a challenger."

You hummed, giving a noncommittal shrug as you pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.

"...Well can I stay here tonight?"

"If you win, sure."

"How will you know I win if you don't come see me?"

You rolled your eyes, hip-checking your drawer shut before pulling up your pants and tugging in your top.

"Fine. Just tonight. You'll have to find somewhere tomorrow night."

"I'll have the prize money by then, I'll crash at a motel."

"Oh, a motel. Hey big spender," You drawled, heading for your door.

"Hey."

"What?"

"You have the papers here?"

It stopped you dead in your tracks, your stomach churning with unease as you looked at him again.

"...What?"

"The divorce papers," He clarified. "I can sign 'em while I'm here."

It would be so easy. It would be so easy to go down to your office and draw the file out of your desk drawer, to plop it down in front of Patrick with your favorite black ballpoint pen, to flip between arrow tabs and instruct, "Sign here, here, here, here, here, and here."

But you found yourself shaking your head.

"I don't have a copy," You fibbed. It took Patrick a moment before he nodded a little.

"Can you get them?"

Hell, were you that out of practice? One night back in bed with you and he was ready to call it? But you were certain that wasn't it—That Patrick was, for once in his goddamn life, trying to make it easy on you after so much hell.

"...Maybe, I don't know," You shrugged. "It's the weekend."

"Okay."

"Coffee?"

"Yeah—Hey."

"What?"

You watched as Patrick pulled the covers away, unashamed of his nakedness as he strode toward you. He grasped your chin, tipping your head for a soft kiss. It took everything in you not to melt into him as he skimmed his hand over your hip, drawing back just enough to give you a sleepy, hazy smile.

"Good morning."

You couldn't help your own, indignant smile.

"Sure, Patrick." You turned away, determined to push on with your day, your life like he wasn't there—like he wouldn't be hanging over you as you made breakfast, or dominating the court as he played, or in your bed again in just a few hours. "Good morning."

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imagine...Discovering Soldier Boy's Secret

Pairing: Soldier Boy x reader

Warnings: language

_______

You were exhausted when you finally got home. Work had been long and stressful. On top of that, you’d needed to hit the grocery store afterwords since you were down to basics. You were so flippin’ tired though that the second you had everything put away, you pulled out your phone and ordered a pizza with some sides.

You had a good thirty minutes before it’d arrive and you figured you’d put on something relaxing, maybe find where Ben was. His car was in the driveway and all his shoes were by the door so he was around there somewhere. 

Five minutes later you were in a pair of joggers, a bralette and one of Ben’s black t-shirts. The man only wore black, gray or navy blue shirts and jeans when he wasn’t in his uniform. You couldn’t blame the guy too much for not caring about fashion but you were hoping someday he might spice things up with a little color.

While in the bedroom, you noticed the bathroom door was shut which was strange. You always left it open unless someone was taking a shower. But you didn’t hear anything going inside.

“Ben are-” you said, pausing halfway with the door open. Welp, you’d found where he was.

Which was apparently sitting in your large soaker tub with a mountain of bubbles surrounding him.

He was taking a goddamn bubble bath. Your Ben. Your Soldier Boy. Your favorite arrogant asshole.

He seemed stuck, eyes a few fractions too wide, unblinking as you stared back at him, the scent of lavender and vanilla filling the room.

“Are-” You stared when he shot his hand up out of the water, pointing it at you like you you’d just run over his puppy.

“Not. A. Word.” You knew better than to aggravate him, at least right now. You slowly closed the door and went downstairs, throwing on a home renovation show. Ben didn’t appear until after the food came, decked out in a pair of flannel pajama pants and a red t-shirt. Okay, it was more maroon than anything but still. You’d bought it for him six months ago and hung it next to the other dozen colorful shirts you wondered if he’d ever wear. 

You stared at him, Ben ignoring you as he slapped three slices on a plate, plopped down on the couch and started to devour his dinner.

You flipped open the food on the coffee table, filling up your own plate, giving him another look, his own fixated on the screen playing before you.

“Stop staring at me,” he growled. You sunk back into the cushions, eating a few fries before you couldn’t help it.

“So.”

“Y/N…”

“Bubble baths.” He audibly growled, giving you a stern look to drop it. “You know, John Wayne took bubble baths.”

Ben was silent, angrily ripping off his crust with a large bite.

“Even if he didn’t, I think it’s nice.” Ben looked ready to bolt away to avoid this conversation but somehow he forced himself to stay seated. “Listen. I know this is going to sound stupid but it makes me feel good knowing you do something for yourself when I’m not around. It makes me feel like maybe you listen to me about the whole you’re deserving of nice things even though you’re a guy.”

Ben’s chewing was less infused with anger, all you’d get out of him that he was actually practicing a bit of self-care. 

“Want a beer?” you said, standing up. He grunted as you walked around the couch, ruffling his damp hair. “You look handsome in that color.”

The corner of his lip ticked up for a split second but you caught it. He was happy, at ease and that was more than enough for you.

__________

[mrsparrasblog]

Traitor

„Please Lt, ah beg ye oan mah haun 'n' knees fur it.“

„No.“ The conversation went like this for hours, with Johnny begging on his knees for Ghost to go on a date with you.

„Please, Lt.“

„How did that even happen, Johnny?“

„Weel, me 'n' Garrick thought yi'll need tae git leid, sae we made a fake Instagram 'n' wrote bonnie girls pretending we wur ye.“

„I don't need to get laid, so tell her I postpone.“ He certainly needed a good lay, but that wasn’t something he could tell Soap. He was his CO officer after all, and the way he intruded on his privacy made him want to rip off Soap's mohawk and make him eat the hair.

„A dinnae want ye tae kip wi' her, a'm wantin' ye tae gang oan a ill date wi' her 'n' mak' her forgoat ye,“ the Scotsman said, letting his true intentions slowly slip.

„You want me to treat her badly? What's wrong with you, MacTavish?“ Simon Riley was a lot, but not a man who treated a bird badly, or else his mom would come back from the grave just to swat him, and he would have deserved that hit.

„Please, Lt.“ Johnny begged, the despair visible in his icy eyes.

„Ye like her?“ And by Soap's stunned reaction, Simon knew everything he needed to know. That idiot pretended to be him, made this naive girl want him, and fell in love with her. And now he can't have her because she is head over heels, but not with Johnny.

„Yes, please, Lt.“

„No.“

„I’ll give you my ration of tea for the next three months.“ That was something Simon couldn’t resist. Extra Earl Grey—he did worse things for less.

„Okay, I’ll go on a date with her and let her down slowly for you to comfort her.“

---------

Simon believed himself to be a determined man who doesn’t change his opinion just because of a good-looking woman. Well, this changed when he saw you waiting at the bar for him, all dolled up. Your dress matched your heels and the color of your nails; you prepared yourself for him—just for him. That was new. And when you hugged him tight as a greeting and the smell of cookies wafted into his rugged nose, Johnny's little crush was forgotten.

He was sure you wouldn’t mind; you were here for him and not for Johnny. He was better looking after all, he thought.

All he could do was listen to your sweet voice as you explained your job with excitement, how your nose scrunched when you laughed, and how you threw him those fuck-me eyes. He was curious if you’d give Johnny the same eyes if your hand touched his abs too, if you chewed on your red lips.

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

Johnny was on his way to play the knight in shining armor for you, comforting you after the big brute broke your innocent heart. But when he walked past Ghost's room, he could hear the desperate pleas and whimpers from a woman.

„Si, please, need more,“ you moaned, trying to get him to finally fuck you after he gave you orgasm after orgasm.

„Need you to be ready for me, love.“

…

„So big, Si.“

„You can take it, love.“

And in that moment, Johnny realized he was betrayed by his best friend and brother-in-arms.

[murdrdocs]

thinking about patrick getting hired by some wealthy rich man to teach his daughter tennis. she's in her 20s and she can't help but be attracted to him and the same goes for him like ... idk

public sex; oral (f receiving); coach zweig once more; MDNI 18+ w/ PATRICK ZWEIG

for the first couple of sessions, it's blatantly obvious that you don't want to be here.

patrick sees it in the way you zone out every few seconds. the way you have absolutely no hustle when you're hitting. the way you're more focused on your chipped nail polish than on his instructions. really, if the check wasn't as big as it is, then patrick wouldn't want to be here either. but the check for one session is enough to keep him going for three months and patrick wants to keep the money flowing. so he's here, and he cares just enough, and he really would prefer it if you cared too.

he meets you on even ground in the middle of the second lesson. you're drinking from an expensive water bottle while patrick drinks from a plastic one. your skin has a light sheen of sweat from it, but not nearly enough in patrick's opinion. he's sure the sweat is from the sun and not your effort.

he kicks the front of your sneakers with his.

"what's your deal?"

you're looking up at him, squinting even though the brim of your visor shields your eyes from the sun. "my deal?"

patrick nods. "you clearly don't wanna be here. so why are you?"

it takes you a second. your jaw ticks as if you're a smoker, or maybe you're used to chewing gum. patrick usually keeps both with him, and he would've offered either to you if you weren't on a court in your backyard.

eventually, you respond. "i agreed to come home for the summer and i could either sit on the board with my father, or play tennis. anything to keep me from lounging around all day."

a small, knowing smile came to patrick's lips. he glanced behind you at the shape of your house. standing here, patrick sees you. he understands you. he, too, learned tennis to escape the future set up by his father. while yours is on a smaller scale, and something more temporary, he still understands.

he caps his water bottle and places it on the bench. "if you put in a little effort, tennis can be fun."

you snicker and place your water bottle next to his, humming noncommittally.

"i'll believe it when i see it."

it isn't long until patrick starts to see effort put into your movements during your sessions. instead of letting the ball fly past you, you're attempting to run for it, sometimes even succeeding. your skin shines with more than a light sweat. you're actually out of breath when you attempt to respond to patrick mid session.

it's nice to see you putting in work. it's attractive when you're bent over with your hands on your knees, heaving for air. it's alluring when you pout at patrick, a plea for a break already on your emphasized lips.

he doesn't know if your sudden enthusiasm is of your own doing, or from the way patrick rewards you. because no matter how much he pushed his desire down, no matter how often he tried to hide it in the name of professionalism, he still found himself drawn to you. glances up your skirt turned to his head up there. fleeting touches to your lower back turned to his rough hands gripping that very area as he took you from behind. watching the sun beat sweat down onto your skin had a completely different meaning when he fucked you on the court, both of you tucked away on the bench and barely hidden away from anyone—notably your father—who could come outside.

it's obvious that you wanted him, too, your sudden need to impress him on the courts whenever he rewarded you with kisses was a testament.

he asks you one day when he'd lightly smacked your ass with his racket when your session was over. "is tennis fun yet?" came his question, and you smiled at him, throwing a hand over your eye to shield your face from the sun. the shadows cast onto your face and your clavicle did nothing to hide the obvious hickey patrick gave you a few days ago and he found his eyes drawn there when you answered.

"dunno. maybe i need a few more sessions."

[sukirichi]

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐒. 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮

— in which you and your fuck buddy pretend to date, which totally won’t lead to feelings at all, right?

content / warnings. toxic college settings. explicit smut. MINORS DNI. choking. exhibitionism. fingering. making out. masturbation. voyeurism. toxic characters. reverse cowgirl riding. implied dub-con. friends with benefits. fake dating. unedited.

dedicated to @kyriaan

The sixth beep of your phone that cursed morning had you shuffling around your bag for the device, fishing it out and muting it with exasperation. To no one’s surprise, he was the sole topic again. Oikawa this and Oikawa that — how he’d be such a great boyfriend to you and your friends could also go on dates with his equally charismatic friends; you were tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.

“Funny seeing you here,” a bored voice drawled out, the scraping of a chair against the floor snapping you to your senses. “Never in my whole life did I imagine I’d find you hiding in a library of all places — are you reading Freud? His theories are shit. They’re not even scientifically proven.”

You raised a brow at Suna Rintaro, your not-so friend friend.

You and Rintaro had a strict friends with benefits relationship.

It started with meeting at a party once when you needed a release from the stress of finals, you made out on the crowded dance floor and found yourselves tangled in the sheets with barely any memory of the night before. The rest was history. Soon, you ran into him more often than you’d expected, and it wasn’t long before you added his name into speed dial.

Funnily enough, you weren’t that close to him.

You either knew everything about him or knew little to nothing. Most of the time you spent with Rintaro would be when you two were drunk out of your minds, bodies too occupied with moving against one another that ‘getting to know each other’ had never been a thing.

For some reason, however, Rintaro was someone you could trust with your whole heart. You just wouldn’t date him because you weren’t looking for a relationship, and neither was he.

Both of you loved the arrangement you had now.

“Why do you know so much about Freud? I just randomly picked up this book.”

Rintaro shrugged, “‘Hooked up with a girl in Psychology once; she was pretty hot, but you’re still my favourite,” winking, he chewed on his gum before snatching the book away from you.

A protest nearly fell from your mouth when a mop of wavy, dark hair sauntered inside the library, taking long, confident strides as he chatted with Iwaizumi. Eyes widening, you ducked your head behind Suna, desperately clutching the hoodie clad on his stiff back.

Rintaro glanced downwards at you, “You’re hiding like you murdered somebody’s pet. Should I be worried or should I help you in hiding someone’s body?”

“Literally shut up. Oikawa is right there.”

“Oikawa... Tooru?” following your line of sight, Rintaro’s back slouched at the same time his lips curled into a mischievous smile. You could tell he was stifling his laughter; the vibrations of his back spoke enough of his urge to betray you. “Oh, he’s looking here. At you, I might say — care to explain?”

“I have nothing to explain to you. We’re not even friends.”

“Ouch,” Rintaro clutched at his chest, “That hurt. Weren’t you at my dorm like five nights in a row last week? You didn’t want me to leave the bed either. I thought we had something special!”

“Suna Rintaro, I am not fucking around with you. Shut up. I swear if Oikawa walks here, I’m never talking to you again.”

As if to prove a point, you plopped until your upper body squished against his back and the chair, cheeks puffing out in frustration as Rintaro sighed. “Okay, you don’t have to explain anything to me, but come on. You’re using me as a human shield and I have zero context on what’s going on,” he tapped your thigh, head slightly tilted to the side with a wary eye out for Oikawa. “Listen, if he’s bothering you, I could deal with it. He looks like the type of guy who doesn’t know what ‘no’ means so if that’s the case, stop hiding. I can help you with it. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your grip on his hoodie listened. Peering up from the bottom of your lashes, you nervously licked your lips. “Wait... you mean that? You’ll really help me?”

“Yeah! You send me nudes that motivate me to ace my exams so this is the least I could do.”

“You just have to make everything sexual, don’t you?” you rolled your eyes and ignored Rintaro’s shameless smile. Scanning the room, you glared at Oikawa’s direction before sitting up and gluing yourself to Rintaro’s hip, whose brow raised but said nothing otherwise. “Okay, so the thing is... my friends may or may not have set me up with Oikawa. They kind of gave him false hope I’m really into him — which I never will be because he has a shitty personality — but he’s not having any of it. He insisted I should go with him on just one date, and if I still don’t change my mind about him, then he won’t push further. Otherwise, he really doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s everywhere that I ended up blurting out I was already dating someone.”

Rintaro rested his chin on his palm. “That’s a lot of information to take in,” he mused, “So... you need help in finding a fake boyfriend, is that it?”

“About that,” with guilt written all over your face, you scratched the back of your neck and chuckled, making sure to avoid eye contact the entire time. “You were the first one to come to mind so I told him I was dating the middle blocker from his team. The uhm, guy who stays up until three am fighting in Twitter threads.”

Rintaro’s jaw dropped. “No way,” he clicked his tongue, hands coming up to ball beside your cheeks as he fought the desire to squeeze your cheeks. Meanwhile, you blinked at him innocently, lower lip jutted out in hopes you’d appease him — which more or less worked as he slumped in his seat. “I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”

“I didn’t have a choice!”

“You did and you chose to date me!” Rintaro hissed under his breath, “Jeez, if you wanted us to be official, you could’ve said so. I would’ve thought about it,” exhaling through his nose, Rintaro pushed his hair back, his head too much of a mess to notice you getting flustered. “Fine. I’ll be your fake boyfriend, but don’t you dare fall in love with me. Our condition when we started sleeping together was that we’re limited to casual relationships only. I like our arrangement already, and you mean a lot to me as a friend so I don’t want to lose you, alright? Whatever we’re doing, it’s all going to be an act.”

“Deal,” you shook his hand, face lighting up at how it didn’t take much to convince him. “Now go to the party with me tonight. We’ll show Oikawa why he can’t have me.”

The sight of bodies grinding onto another and music blaring through the speakers weren’t new to you and Rintaro. You’d both seen the same scene a thousand times before, having been part of that crowd at one point. Yet, tonight felt different from rest. The music felt muted as you walked through the door with Rintaro’s hand down on your waist, the stench of alcohol and sex overpowered by the musky perfume your fake boyfriend wore.

You couldn’t think clear around him.

You tried to blame it on the jitters that set your nerves on fire, anxiety pooling in your stomach at the thought Oikawa made it clear he wanted to see you tonight.

Of course, you weren’t stupid. Knowing the guy infamous for his reputation for sleeping around and changing partners like they were his clothes, he wouldn’t give up once he had his eyes set on someone. It just so happened that unfortunate person had to be you.

“Relax,” Rintaro breathed into your ear, pulling you closer by the hip when you weaved through the people nearly fucking on the floor. The sudden gesture had you jolting for a split second. Blinking, Rintaro’s reassuring smile greeted you with a tinge of amusement, his gaze tracing down your nails forming crescent moons on his arm. “Do you really have to cling to me all night?”

“We’re supposed to be a couple madly in love, remember?” you reminded with a bounce of your heel, surveying the throng of people milling in and out of the frat house in search of Oikawa.  “You should kiss me too as soon as we see him. Then he’ll stop bothering me and we can be over with this fiasco.”

“Asking just in case, but how should I kiss you? Like a peck?”

“Kiss me like you want the whole world to know I’m yours,” you said nonchalantly, not thinking too much of it since this was supposed to be an act. Until a horde of loud males started cheering as soon as they entered the room, the crowd welcoming Oikawa and his friends warmly when Rintaro suddenly grabbed you by the wrist, twisting you to face him. The last thing you saw before Rintaro tilted his head to the side to press his lips to yours was the look of utter horror on Oikawa’s face.

Although, honestly, who cared? Rintaro tasted like beer and strawberries, his musky scent clouding your senses that your eyes closed in response.

Knees weakening, you grabbed onto Rintaro’s shoulders to steady yourself, gasping into his greedy lips when you felt him squeeze your hip possessively. You groaned into the kiss, your hands running up to play with the ends of his hair as Rintaro’s back hit the wall, his bent leg trapped between your thighs. He quickly took the chance and nudged his knee on your clothed pussy. Your skirt grazed against your sensitive core that you attempted to pull away to breathe, but Rintaro wasn’t having any of it.

Smirking beneath you, Rintaro hooked a finger into the chains dangling from your skirt and pulled you flush against him. You had no time to react before he was pushing a tongue past your lips. Warm, wet muscles danced against each other as Rintaro memorized the taste of you the same way you did for him — not a single care about air anymore when he made those low, deep whimpers setting fire to your loins.

But just as soon as you leaned in for more, his hair tugged backward to deepen the kiss, Rintaro pulled away. “That’s how I’d kiss you if I were your boyfriend,” he declared, pads of his thumb swiping against his moist lip swollen from the little nips you gave him — the look of pleasure and satisfaction displayed all over his handsome face that told you how much he enjoyed your needy whines.

You gaped at him, your skin burning from being edged.

Rintaro flicked you on the forehead. “Don’t look at me like that. You asked me to kiss like I wanted to let the world know your mine, and he was looking. Besides, we need to show someone who you belong to, right?” pushing his weight off the wall, Rintaro lightly bit your earlobe as you breathed hard, his sharp, cold gaze focused on a flushed red Oikawa standing across the room. “I have a better idea if you’re up for it.”

Arms crossed against your chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist in faux affection, when in reality you only needed to hear what he said through the loud music. “What do you have in mind?” The smirk on Rintaro’s face was as loud as a warning siren.

“Turn around.”

Even if you didn’t want to, Rintaro wasn’t asking. He spun you around by the shoulders, your back flushed against his chest when you felt his knee nudge between your legs once more. His fingers calloused from playing volleyball snaked past your thigh and dangerously close to your heated pussy. “This is what I had in mind,” he whispered, his voice sending tingles straight down your spine. “Let’s burn that pretty face of yours into his head. Show him what he can’t have.”

Your dignity told you to say no. To be fingered in public like this was less than ideal, even more so when your lace panties dangerously flashed into view. Yet, you found yourself arching your back to retaliate.

Ass nudging against Rintaro’s hardening cock, you smirked upon hearing his low groans. One palm cupped your ass as a warning before he playfully snapped your underwear against your thigh, a wince painting your half fucked out features from the sting. Glancing at him from the side, you sneered, about to protest when he wiggled his free hand and cupped your pussy.

Your mouth hung open.

Oikawa’s drink fell from his hands. No longer was he paying any attention to his friends, rather on the way you keened and your tongue threatening to loll out your lips the moment Rintaro’s thumb flicked your clit.

“You’re such a naughty slut. Who knew you were into this?”

“He’s watching, Rintaro,” you whimpered, gripping at his wrist like he wasn’t knuckle deep in your pants already. “Someone could see and think we’re—”

“That’s the point,” lowering his mouth onto your neck, you gasped at his teeth sinking down on the skin. Behind you, you could hear the hand on your ass disappear at the sounds of a belt unbuckling, fuelling your imagination to both the best and worst scenarios. Rintaro wasn’t far behind in his surprise as were you; you never expected you’d enjoy giving someone a show either, much less cum on the spot the second Rintaro’s cock slipped inside you. “Aw, fuck, did you just come undone for me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You shook your head, palms slippery with sweat as you held onto his slick hands squeezing your waist. The music was no longer audible from the pounding of your heart. Hell, you could barely feel your legs when Rintaro mumbled something incoherent around you before he guided your connected bodies onto a nearby couch.

Plopping down with your weight on top of him, you held onto his knees for dear life. Rintaro settled on the leather couch occupied by a stoned student laughing by himself, the latter’s chuckles halting when he was greeted by the sight of your hazy eyes and pants falling from your mouth. Meanwhile, Rintaro rested his arms on the back of his head. He didn’t have to lift a finger, much less give a command for you to know he wanted you to ride him right here — if you looked straight across, Oikawa would be right before you a few feet away, his frown deeply engraved into his face.

“Rin, I...”

He sat up in a flash at the hesitance in your voice, warm hands wrapping around your waist protectively. It took you a second to realize he hid his nestled cock from everyone’s prying eyes in case you weren’t comfortable, but the gesture did nothing but make you clench around him harder — both from the anxiety and anticipation.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you wanted people to watch. You wanted him to see Rintaro had total control over your body, no matter how humiliating the situation might be.

“Do you want us to stop? Should we go somewhere else?”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you bent your legs to rest beside his thighs, fingers looping around the ones hooked under your breast to steady yourself before you lifted your hips, then slammed back down. Again and again, until sweat dripped from your head to your jaw, you kept eye contact with a red-faced Oikawa. All the while as you bounced on Rintaro’s dick and threw your head back, laughing with your whole chest at the lights spinning from the ceiling since it reminded you of the seventh heaven you were in.

Rintaro let you go at your own pace, his grunts and garbled utterances of your name blending with the party wilding from the background. You could feel him twitching inside of you. His cock bumped and grazed your walls until the tip kissed a particular sensitive spot that had you losing your balance for a moment, nails digging into his ripped jeans to catch your breath.

“Goddamn,” Rintaro cursed, stealing away your ability to breathe with his hand snaking into your neck. “You dirty fucking slut, getting off to acting like a whore in front of the whole campus, huh? Go on. Show them how you’re such a whore for my cock.”

You couldn’t swallow down your words.

Rintaro’s grip on your neck had you on a literal chokehold, strong enough to deprive you of air and tighten around him, but not to a point you felt lightheaded. If anything, the power he displayed only fuelled you to ride him harder. Drawing figure eights with your hip, you could feel drool smearing your lipstick as the red stains smudged against Rintaro’s palm, the sound of slick and skin slapping against skin like music to your ears.

Only Rintaro could ever make you feel this way.

From the night you’d met him, each time you fucked would be the best experience of your life. Not once had he failed in bringing you over the edge or experimenting with the most absurd positions you’d never thought of before, and now you were returning the favour.

You rode his cock like it was your last mission. ‘Death by cock’ didn’t sound like such an unfavourable thing either, not when it meant losing yourself in his thick girth spreading you wide and the lewd sight of your cum sticking to his thighs. His jeans were a mess, but Rintaro never complained. He didn’t care then, and he wouldn’t care now. Seeing you dirty his clothes, your sweat dampening his shirt and your own cum coating his cock like a rewarding trophy of what felt like the best night of his life — Rintaro didn’t give a single fuck about the mess.

“F-Fuck, Rin, I’m coming!”

Rintaro held your waist, taking over with complete control as he slammed your hips up and down his twitching cock, curses falling back and forth from his mouth. “Cum on me,” he ordered. Resting his chin on your shoulders, Rintaro’s other hand twisted your jaw in the direction of Oikawa biting his lip, his hand suspiciously following your movements from under the luminescent lights. “Look at that dirty fucker. Let’s show him what he missed out on, yeah?”

A burst of warmth exploded inside you. You were too stunned to move, thighs burning from the ache that you accepted it with delight before falling back into Rintaro’s chest. “That was the best fuck of my life,” you admitted through lidded eyes, “But we’re fucked tomorrow. The whole campus is going to talk about us.”

“Let them.”

Post-nut clarity hit you hard like a truck.

Albeit expecting the rumours and looks you’d be getting the next day, the blatant impressed stares mixed with some envious ones never got easier by the end of classes. Everywhere you went, people would be whispering. But like Rintaro always used to say each time you cried to him, there’d be light at the end of the tunnel, because the best part of it all that made everything worth it?

Oikawa avoided you like the plague. Not because he was appalled of what he’d witnessed and what he’d done, but rather word spread out how he’d been rejected.

For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru felt humiliation, at the hands of his own teammate, no less — something Rintaro took pride in when you crashed by his room that night.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face. It was priceless,” he snickered while scrolling through the phone, about to comment when the door swung open, revealing a carbon copy replica of Rintaro. In female version.

Rintaro quickly shot out of bed and threw a blanket over your head, stalking to the girl standing with her mouth hanging ajar at the door. “What are you doing here? I thought you guys wouldn’t be home until the weekend. Plus, how’d the fuck you get inside the dorms? You’re not supposed to be here, Remi.”

Remi ignored him. “Are you hiding your girlfriend? Mom needs to know about this, she’d love to meet her!”

That was how you found yourself stuck to Rintaro in a cramped booth with his family not an hour later. You awkwardly picked at your food, stealing glances at an equally silent Rintaro while his younger sister, Remi, kept babbling about how her brother hid a girlfriend this whole time. His family went out of town for business for a while, but since they got home earlier, they decided to surprise Rintaro with a visit.

He sure was surprised, and so were you since they hadn’t stopped calling you ‘dear’ ever since.

His parents were nice — they warmly welcomed you and even invited you to have dinner with them sometime at their house. Mrs. Suna would whip up a meal to welcome you as part of their family, saying that you should consider it a thanks for making their son smile. Remi was the most excited out of all them. She’d been wanting an older sister for a while now, and she hadn’t stopped clinging onto your arm the whole time until her parents forcefully snatched her away when it was time go back home.

The entire walk back to the dorms felt suffocating.

None of you spoke a word, not until you arrived at your building and Rintaro shoved his hands down his pockets, swinging back and forth on his feet. “So... are you free this Friday? You should come have dinner with us.”

“You’re seriously asking me that?”

“Why not? You’re invited. Don’t be rude and not go.”

“It’s not being rude, Rintaro, you’re asking me to lie to your parents,” you snapped, halting in your tracks to stare at him in disbelief. “They adored me all because they think I’m dating you, but we’re not the least bit close to that. We just fuck and call it day, maybe hang out when we’re bored, but we don’t know each other at all. And weren’t you the one who told me that we can’t be more than just fuck buddies?”

Rintaro rolled his eyes. “You’re right, but I agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend to push Oikawa away. Now do me a favour and keep up with the fake girlfriend thing. My parents will be devastated if I tell them we’re not real.”

“I don’t want to lie to them!”

“It’s not a big deal! Why’re you making a mountain out of everything? So because the deal on my side doesn’t require fucking, you’ll back out just like that?”

Your mouth hung open in shock. “It’s because I don’t want to be your fake girlfriend, Rintaro, I want to date you for real!” you blurted out, eyes widening at the same time Rintaro’s cheeks flushed. Realizing what you just said, you inwardly regretted it with a grimace. “I’m sorry. You said we can’t be more than that and I know I just ruined our friendship, but I’m really sorry. I can’t bring myself to lie to your family like that, and I don’t want to lie about my feelings either,” hanging your head down low, you bit the insides of your cheeks. No matter what you said, you couldn’t take it back anymore.

“Rintaro, I like you. You make me happy and I want to do the same for you, but I understand if we’re done now. It was nice to have met you.”

Without waiting for his response, you ran back into the building when a hand wrapped around your wrist. You stared at the long fingers and to the arm connected to it, heart sinking into your chest when you came face to face with Rintaro’s handsome face.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to speak.”

“I’m sure you don’t want to be near me, Rintaro.”

Rintaro sniffed, averting the intensity of your gaze and shrugging his shoulders shly. “On the contrary... I’d like to spend every waking minute with you,” he mumbled so soft that you wouldn’t have heard it if you didn’t listen hard enough, but you did, and you were left gaping at him with warmth spreading through your skin. You stood there, watching as Rintaro laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry if I said that a little too late, but yes. I’d like to be your real boyfriend. Then I can fuck you exclusively because I don’t think I like the idea of you riding other people like that.”

You swatted his arm away with a laugh. “That’s the reason you want to date me?”

“There’s other reasons too like how I love talking to you and I want to get to know you more,” he cupped your face, grinning when his palms felt the warmth emanating from your skin. “And also, I want to do this more with you.”

Leaning down, Rintaro kissed you under the flickering lights of your hallway, the both of your lips stretching into a smile. In a way, you were thankful your friends tried setting you up with someone else, because if you’d known it would lead you to realizing your feelings for Rintaro, you would’ve asked him to date you a little earlier.

[webslingingslasher]

interest peaked… how the turn tables

how does trouble react when peter bites her? 🎤

'trouble?'

'reading.'

'trouble?'

'go away.'

'trouble!'

you promise yourself that this is the one and only time you'll give into him. your face must show how annoyed you are because peter softens you right up with 'i love you.'

'aw. i love you too, handsome.' you wait for more, he doesn't offer anything. you lean over for a quick kiss before settling back into his sheets. the second your eyes are back on your book, peter bids for more attention.

'cuddles?'

you're not moving a thing, peter said you could read all afternoon if you wanted and you're going to do it. you pat your chest while shifting down, if he wants a cuddle, he has to come to you.

'i'm reading.' peter doesn't need another clue, he's pushing himself up and moving to lay on top of you. his weight adds a nice pressure, subconsciously a hand finds itself dragging through his curls while the other supports your book.

'trouble?' it's a whisper, you respond with 'shh.' your hand slowly stills the further you find yourself invested in the story, peter doesn't like it one bit. you hit the next chapter, honing in on heavy dialogue you're taken from reality and thrown into the page.

you jump, a soft yelp tumbles from your lips while your book drops and you push at peter's cheek. 'ow, ow, ow, ow! stop biting, stop biting!' peter digs his teeth in further, you whine and try to hold him back, it hurts more.

'peter,' you plead with his name and it's enough to make him let up. 'what? you've got very yummy arms.' it's the same excuse you use on him, you frown and stare at the soft indent he left behind.

'you bit me.'

'payback. let me get another.' you squirm away, 'no!' peter catches your arm and holds you still, you're still trying to fight him off when he latches on to the meat of your bicep. 'you're nibbling, i don't nibble!' it's a lie, you use him like a chew toy and you should be thankful he's being so easy on you.

peter lightly thrashes his head from side to side, it's like a dog with a bone. peter's the one with a pain kink, not you. 'i don't like it! i bite, you kiss, that's the rule!'

sweet relief, your attention lost from your damp skin by falling into the deep pits of peter's eyes. they're so pretty that you could spend limitless hours just looking at them.

'i'd kiss you if i could have your attention for two seconds.'

'then ask me!' peter blinks, a small frown forms. 'i tried. you shut me out.' he was pining for your attention and went for the one thing that would rip you from your alternate universe.

'does my petey want some love?'

a tender kiss is placed where his teeth were a minute ago. 'just a little.' you could set aside a few minutes, your book wasn't going anywhere.

'okay, give me hugs.' you ready yourself for a blanket of peter, instead he shakes his head and uses a hand to hold himself up, over you. 'no hugs. kisses.'

'what if i want hugs?'

peter said what he said. 'kisses.'

'hugs.'

a pretend grumpy face, he surprises you with a peck. 'kisses.' you poke his shoulder. 'kisses always mean more to you, i know your secrets.'

'no secrets, i promise. can't a guy just makeout with his girlfriend without being interrogated?'

your eyebrows raise, 'from kisses to a makeout. see? i knew there was something up with you.' peter takes a deep breath and eases into that smile. the one full of boyish charm, the one that makes you feel warm and giddy under his touch because it feels like he's undressing you in his mind.

'trouble,' you lose all air when he places a barely there kiss on your lips. 'please let me kiss you.' you can't think straight when he whispers against you like this, especially when he's pleading.

'you can kiss me.' it's just as quiet, you can feel peter's smile when he leans in. he's so gentle you tug him closer by his shirt, in ten seconds you're pressing up and begging him for more.

you halfway notice when peter sets your book on his nightstand, this time you can't blame him for starting more than just a kiss. but you will.

'just a makeout, huh?'

'it's a paperback. we don't wanna crush it, right?'

'next time don't be so sneaky and just fuck me from behind while i'm reading.'

a sharp inhale, peter's pupils blow wide. an aggressive kiss, your bottom lip might be bruised in the morning. 'don't tempt me with a good time, trouble.'

'it's not tempting if i'm asking.' another kiss, peter can't hide his love if he tried.

'have i ever told you that you're the best thing to ever happen to me?'

[yumeboshi]

congrats on 100 omg !!!! may i please order a sickly sweet sprinkle sundae? <3 your vibe is simply incredible

❝ THANK YOU FOR YOUR ORDER、 @bunn3333s .ᐟ ⟡ HERE IS YOUR RECEIPT FROM CAFÉ YUME ⟡

𐙚SICKLY SWEET SPRINKLE SUNDAE：sickly sweet it makes you throw up!

𐙚 dish desc。．a not so romantic dinner sunday made for you after you tried running away.

．。𝜗𝜚 labels。 general yandere themes, manipulation, filthy, mentions of aphrodisiacs, no i promise i write for other characters too, heavy brainrot, MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 ingredients。sunday

WAS HE ANGRY?

it was hard to tell by the way SUNDAY smiles at you with eyes hollow like shells, gesturing for you to take a seat at the lavish dinner table. your fiancé, although more of a forced engagement, was undoubtedly a good cook. the dishes set across the spacious wooden table cloaked with heavenly silk were straight from a 5-star course meal at the Reverie, each one tingling your nostrils with an exquisitely savory smell.

the situation might have been very flattering if you haven’t tried to run away from him moments ago.

“please, take a seat. i made it just for you, you know.” he laughs shortly at your hesitance, but his eyes pierce through you, like a predator waiting for its prey.

you feel your heart thud against your chest as you sit down tentatively- the scrape of the chair only scratching your nerves even more. although the scent around you tempted your stomach, your mouth felt paradoxically dry and you felt like throwing up. you felt uncomfortable, as if a thousand ants were crawling over your skin by his stare that never once leaves you.

“you deserve to eat,” he breaks your discomfort with a gentle hand that guides your own to the silver utensils that are far too expensive for you. “you’ve been such a good girl.”

the way he says it tells you he doesn’t think that at all. but how can you possibly deny him, when you’ve already done it once? you should be grateful he’s even allowing you to eat.

but as the steak reaches your lips, you feel a sudden churn in your throat that tells you you really shouldn’t eat it. sunday taps you with the other hand on your shoulder- a subtle warning, but when you don’t do as he says, he sighs in condescension and pries your mouth open to force it in, caring little about the way your saliva stains his pristine gloves.

the meat surprisingly melts on your tongue like heaven- it’s juicy and just so right. it’s the most perfect bite of meat you’ve ever tasted, which shows on your surprised expression which makes your fiancé scold you—

“what did i tell you, dear? I didn’t put anything in there. this indeed says something about how little you trust me.”

and when he removes his and from yours, telling you that he’s not going to cook anymore- you beg him that you’re sorry for mistrusting him. oh, what a sin you’ve committed— how dare you even doubt sunday, who always showers you with such love you don’t deserve after your attempt to run?

he pretends to give in to your pretty pleas when you hug him while sobbing about how delicious it is, all the while telling you that you’re such a stupid little dove he has to teach constantly until she learns he manners.

little do you know, the meat you’re chewing has an oddly sweet aftertaste. the more sunday feeds you with his hand over your own, subtly coaxing you to eat the entire thing, all the while making you think it’s your own choice to eat it, the more your brain fuzzes, your vision blurry, slowly drowning your own coherent thoughts with such a primal need that builds itself to the surface, a desire that morphs into a cacophony in your head that chants that you need him so badly.

and he’ll drag out the drugged thoughts of yours, acting as if you’re the one who badly wants him to bury in his thick cock inside you- when in reality, sunday is the one who desires it so bad. he’s wanted to stuff you full with his own cum- make you his, trapping you with his children since the day he’s laid eyes on you, but a true manipulator always plays the longer game, and he was willing to wait.

now, his long-awaited fantasies are fulfilled as he watches your hole gushing around his cock, whimpering his name as you clutch the sheets- pretty bite marks decorating every nook and cranny. and fuck, oh it makes him feel like he’s finally flown to his desired heaven. he feels complete.

he feels like his twisted paradise is near.

[euphoricfilter]

regret:

pairing: jungkook x gn! reader

genre: non-idol au || angst ||

summary: regret is the worst emotion

tags/ warnings: kinda just angst… the ending is ambiguous so you can try make it happy if you want

notes: a little ramble based on how i feel at the moment as a little treat before bed <3 i feel very rusty because i haven’t written in so long

☆ where you can find the rest of my stuff!!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

the knowledge that the thing you want to say is going to hurt someone you care about is the worst feeling. a strange sinking in your chest, malleable guilt that chews away at your mind and your heart.

words tacky on your tongue as you rehearse them in your head over and over, a well practiced script. because ending something with someone you like a lot hurts. really, truly, hurts.

it hurts knowing you’ll hurt them and it hurts not knowing how your relationship will be after you utter the miserable set of words stuck in your mind.

jungkook was your first.

jungkook was your everything.

he was perfect, within whatever limitation human perfection has. he treated you like you were the best thing on the face of the earth. you were the light of his eyes, perfect in all your imperfect ways. a piece of you tucked away in his mind all hours of the day.

quick to message back when you text about your day. always on the other end of the phone. always there. the one person in the universe who loved you for who you were, the one person who loved to spend time with you all hours of the day. just the silent comfort of knowing you were there enough for him.

gentle as his fingers would run through your hair, legs tangled together and breathing soft as you linger between the waking world and gentle sleep.

his love for you was all consuming.

which is why you didn’t understand why it felt like your world was crumbling. a phantom hand wrapped around your delicate neck, constricting every breath you took.

a constant spiraling anxiety, tugging you further and further into this abyss of worry and self loathing.

the strange self loathing you have when you don’t know yourself anymore. unsure why. what reason there is to your existence. why people even liked you when it felt like you had nothing else to offer.

and at the time you thought you needed a break.

palms sweaty as you hold the phone to your ear, boyfriend understandably concerned by your recent lack of communication.

“hello..?” jungkook answers.

you swallow, “hi” it comes out quiet, throat already lodged, eyes glossy.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he hums, you hear him shuffle on the other end of the phone.

your lungs inflate as you take a deep breathe

“i..” you start, all that practice getting you nowhere as your mind stops, guilt clawing it’s way up your throat.

“baby?” he presses on, worry evident in his voice.

“i don’t know if i can do this anymore” the bitter words slip off your tongue, “you don’t deserve this”

and of course jungkook had been baffled. though maybe a small part of him knew that this was coming, how you’d slowly started to creep away from him. the unintentional distance scratching the surface of what was rattling around your mind.

“if this isn’t what you want… then that’s okay” he breathes, “i just want you to be happy”

you feel the tears trickle down the mounds of your cheeks, “no” you huff, “god, jungkook please don’t be nice right now”

“what do you want me to do?” he laughs, though you can feel the lack of humor, laugh dry as it’s pushed past his lips.

you wipe your wet cheeks, “call me a bitch or something”

“i’m not gonna call you a bitch” he sighs.

“but you don’t deserve this… i should have at least come in person or… i don’t know” you cry, “i feel like such a horrible person”

“you’re not a horrible person” he hums, “i don’t want you to feel bad”

“too late” you murmur, “i feel like shit… you’re just so nice and i really like you…. but i don’t think i can do this anymore”

the fact he has been so nice had made it harder. the sadness in his voice as he reassured you as you cried. the moment sinking in when you finally put your phone down. you’d shattered something so lovely. you’d ripped away the only person who made you feel seen.

and the week after was no different. he didn’t message you. so you never tried reaching out, how could you when you’d broken his heart.

it felt selfish missing him. wanting any sort of contact you could get.

and when he messaged about bringing some of your stuff over back to your place, that wasn’t enough. you knew that the small exchange wouldn’t be enough because you missed him, and asking for friendship after you ended the relationship chewed away at your mind.

sometimes missing someone is a strange feeling. knowing that the dynamic you once had is totally different, that it might never be the same as it was.

and sometimes missing someone hurts a little less than the guilt that eats away at you for what you have done. or missing someone can hide that slither of regret you have, wishing you knew you’d hate life without them as much as you did with them.

the world is lonely when you don’t feel seen.

dread wrapping around your mind. slowly sinking further and further into the darkness. nights spent thinking about the moments you’d shared together. that maybe you want what was once there.

you missed jungkook more than you’d like admit and it was eating away at your heart.

all it took was a week. a week of silence. a week of being alone and figuring out life by yourself.

you tip your head up, full moon shining down on the street as you stand outside jungkook’s apartment building, feet shuffling against the ground as you hold your phone to your chest. you’d written a message, rewritten the message, thought about what you’d say.

and that selfish part of you wants to send it. that selfish part of you wanting him to be there, for you to touch him, know that he’s really there and you can change what had happened.

[bro-atz]

the ceo's doll [bro's 500 — seonghwa]

[billionaire romance, suggestive/smut, ceo!au, seonghwa/afab!reader]

requested by: 🐉

in which: you wanted to work for ceo park seonghwa, but you had no idea it entailed being his maid.

word count: 2.1k

content: smut, yunho cameo, contracted lover?, mentions of stockholm syndrome, UNPROTECTED SEX (PLS WRAP UP IRL), slight admission of love..., breeding kink?, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

The only reason you were stuck with the housecleaning job was because your main occupation, the one where you applied to be the secretary for a really nice, friendly, sweet CEO, was a ruse. Well, technically, it wasn’t, because the other bitch that applied with you got the position you wanted, but you found out it was because that nice, friendly, sweet CEO wanted you for something else— to be his personal maid.

Your opinion of the man quickly changed when you stepped foot in his house. He went from being all the good things you heard about him to a gigantic piece of shit. His persona at work was a fucking lie, and God, you wished you could tell everyone about his actual tendencies, but you weren’t allowed to. He used that sweet charm of his to trick you into signing a literal slave contract. Money kept going and going into your account, but you weren’t ever allowed to really use it or touch it because you were locked up at his huge mansion. You were his.

The moments where he was at work were the moments you lived for yourself. His place was always clean and immaculate, so you really had nothing to do for him while he was out other than sit around. You considered going online shopping, but since the CEO had you in stupid uniforms that rotated daily, you couldn’t go shopping for clothes, and there weren't any other material possessions you really wanted, so you just sat at home and watched TV for the most part.

That day, your uniform was a freaking maid outfit. You hated the maid outfit the most out of all of the rotations because it was that iconic one with the black skirt and the white apron, and every single damn time, he made you wear tights. Sometimes they were white, sometimes they were black, sometimes they were full leg, sometimes they were thigh high; it really just depended on his mood. That day, they were black and full stockings.

“Y/N? I’m home,” you heard him call into the house the second he got home— right on schedule, as per usual.

You quickly smoothed out your uniform, fluffed out the skirt, neatly tucked your hair behind your ears, and quickly made your way to the front door to see the CEO standing before you, his fingers hooked into his tie as he loosened it. Right next to him was another man— another CEO that you had recognized.

“Mr. Jeong, Mr. Park,” you greeted while bowing. “Shall I set up the dining room?”

“No, he just stopped by quickly to grab a document that I left in my office room. He’ll be out shortly,” your employer responded to you.

You knew what that meant. You bowed your head slightly, the man heading to the office room while the other stood before you.

“Y/N,” the man stated your name softly.

“Mr. Jeong,” you responded.

“Please, you know you can call me Yunho,” he said with a dry chuckle. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. And you?”

“Could be better…”

Yunho took a step towards you, all of your cells nearly jumping out of your skin as you realized the distance that had closed between the two of you. You looked up to meet his gaze and saw him chewing on the inside of his lip.

“Listen,” he stared softly. “The offer still stands. Come work for me.”

“No, thank you, Mr. Jeong,” you politely declined.

“Is it because of the non-compete? Because I can have my lawyers—”

“No, it’s not because of that.”

“Then why?”

You pressed your lips together. Sure, you hated the terms of your contract, but it wasn’t because of the way the CEO treated you. You were his, but you weren’t really. What you really wanted was for him to not see you as an object but as a human because, truth be told, you were in love with him. Some could argue that it could be the result of Stockholm syndrome, but you were in love with the CEO even before the contract. How funny.

“Mr. Jeong, I have the document,” the other man returned to the area and shoved the folder into his chest. “I believe you best be going now.”

“No need to get testy, Seonghwa,” Yunho chuckled.

Seonghwa shot the man an ice cold glare, prompting Yunho to hold his hands up in the air as if to surrender.

“Alright, I’ll see you later, Seonghwa. Bye, Y/N.”

With that, Yunho disappeared, leaving you alone with the CEO at the entrance. Before you could even let out the breath you had been holding back, Seonghwa stood in front of you, his sharp gaze nearly burning a hole through you.

“You were late,” he said quietly, the edge in his voice nearly making your heart sink.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park,” you responded in the same register and bowed quickly.

He let out a soft, disgruntled sigh. You kept your head bowed as he stood even closer to you and inspected every single inch of your appearance to make sure you were conforming to his presentation standards.

“No clip in your hair today?” he asked while petting the back of your head.

“No, Mr. Park. It broke last week, remember?”

“Oh, right. Never mind then.”

His hand slipped away from your head, and you let out a soft breath when you saw him take a step back. You thought you were safe, but then you felt his fingers tuck under your jaw and tilt your head up, forcing you to lock eyes with him. You barely maintained eye contact when you felt his fingers then slip from your jaw down to your neck, his fingers pressing lightly into your arteries.

“That still doesn’t mean you’re excused for tardiness,” he brought his head down and whispered into your ear, goosebumps spreading across body rapidly when you felt his breath on your skin. “Come with me.”

Oh, and that was the other thing. You were his sex doll.

He led you to his bedroom and immediately pinned you down on the bed, his hands pressing into your thighs. His thumb nails tore through the thing fabric of the tights, your thighs spilling out of the tear. You watched the man lick his lower lip slowly as he stared at the way your skin peeked through the first tear. He did this every time, and seeing his eyes darken every time he did it made your body flush with heat. Every single damn time.

You could tell his patience wore thin that day. Usually, he would take his time with you, but given that he was irritated with your behavior and the fact that he tore through your tights like it was absolutely nothing, he was definitely impatient.

“Mr. Park,” you whimpered when you felt his hands push up through the tears and to your panties.

“No, doll. We've been over this," the man sighed as he pressed his body against yours.

"I'm sorry, Seonghwa," you murmured your correction while stifling a moan.

"Good girl, doll," he whispered, his lips pressing gently against your ear. “Now turn around and stay on your hands and knees.”

You were a little taken aback; the CEO liked to savor you and eat you out, which meant he really was impatient. Also, he was more of a breasts man, so to hear that he wanted to fuck you from behind was another little surprise.

You did as the man asked, the faint tinkle of his belt buckle and the sound of him unzipping his pants echoing in your ears as you raised your ass in anticipation. He pushed your skirt up, tore even more through your tights, and pushed your panties to the side to reveal your soaking wet cunt. Licking his fingers, he ran them over the lips of your quivering pussy, his fingers teasing you as he pet you slowly.

“Mmm, look at how wet you are,” Seonghwa murmured. “Is this because of him or me?”

“Seonghwa, what are you— Oh God!”

You didn’t get to finish your thought. Seonghwa shoved his cock into you roughly, his deep groan reverberating in the room. You heard him sharply inhale when you clenched around his cock, his waist snapping into yours seconds later.

“Fuck, you’re always so tight no matter how many times I fuck you, doll,” Seonghwa hissed. “You were made for me.”

Every single nerve in your body tingle. You let out a sweet moan when you felt his hand smack your ass before gripping it tightly, his hips not letting up. The more he thrust into you, the louder your moans got. You dug your fingernails into the sheets, your toes curling as you felt his cock being to render you useless.

“You like that, doll?” Seonghwa asked through gritted teeth. “You want more?”

“Yes, please!” you whined.

Suddenly, he pulled out of you. He grabbed the skirt and yanked it down before flipping you over and pulling your top off, leaving you in your undergarments and the torn tights. He ran his fingers along your ribs before pushing your bra up and planting his lips on your breast, the feeling of his teeth tugging on your nipples sending your brain into a frenzy. His other hand guided his cock to your cunt, his waist rolling into yours before his hand found your other breast.

Despite him pleasuring you so, you desperately wanted him to kiss you, but that was the thing about Seonghwa— he never kissed you. He would leave marks all over your body and let his lips have free range of every single part of you, but not once did he kiss you. When he looked up from your breast to see your glazed eyes and slightly parted lips, however, something clicked.

“Doll, open your mouth,” he instructed quietly.

You did as he asked, and finally, his lips met yours. His tongue dove deep into your mouth as he kissed you recklessly. His hand searched for yours, and when they found them, he laced his fingers with yours before pinning them on either side of your head. He pressed his upper body against yours and moved his hips faster while you wrapped your legs around his waist, the slaps from him fucking you getting louder with every passing second— although, you couldn’t hear that over the sound of your wet kisses.

“Fuck, doll,” Seonghwa breathed out in between kisses, unaware that you could hear him. “I love you.”

Those three words were enough for you. They were unexpected given the moment you were in, but you were happy to receive them. So happy, in fact, you clenched again, the butterflies in your stomach rampaging wildly. Groaning, Seonghwa moved his face from yours and buried it deep into your neck before ramming his waist into yours harshly, his cock hitting your cervix. The two of you came together, your moans harmonizing in hot, heavy atmosphere of the room.

You could feel Seonghwa’s seed spill out of you and pool between your legs as he pulled out. You blinked the stars out of your eyes as you watched him get off the bed and stand up, his fingers running through his hair as he let out a soft sigh. Then, your heart fell. He went back to his usual pattern of helping you clean up by giving you a towel and leaving the room.

What he said to you in bed wasn’t an admission of love, you realized. It was him loving the idea that you were there. He wasn’t in love with you— he loved your purpose. Dejected, you got to cleaning yourself up, a small pout forming on your lips as you tried to push out all the hopeful thoughts that had begun to swirl around in your brain. You moved to get off the bed, only to see Seonghwa turn wearing fresh underwear and holding a brand new hair clip. He got on the bed next to you and held the bed sheet up to your chest, prompting you to cover your naked body before he started pulling your hair back. The hope started to revive in your heart as you watched him care for you in a way he never had before.

“I have a question for you,” he murmured softly.

“What is it?”

“What was… Mr. Jeong talking to you about?” he inquired as he strained to say the other man’s name.

“He wanted me to come and work for him.”

“Uh-huh… And what did you say?”

“I said no, of course.”

Seonghwa moved away to look into your eyes. He smoothed out the hair on the top of your head and smiled at you— and it wasn’t the fake, sickly sweet smile he laid on his investors. No, it was a genuine smile, one that made your heart clench and also race at the speed of light. Then, he pressed the gentlest kiss on your forehead, your heart completely and utterly swooning for him at that point.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered.

bro's 500 event | bro's 500 event masterlist

bro's 500 taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @nakiiko @hyukssunflower @aaa-sia

@k-hotchoisan @hwallazia

networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet

@ksmutsociety @newworldnet @wonderlandnet

[chosows]

AMIDST THE STORM ☔️

Suguru Geto x Fem Reader

Summary: After falling out with his friend group, Suguru found himself left behind; he's constantly taking steps backwards while everyone else strides forward. The only person who stuck by his side was you, leaving yourselves excluded from the rest. Your lives have skewed away from what they once were, and he often wonders if you are as unhappy as he assumes you are.

Word count: 2.6k

Contains: Established relationship, Geto with tattoos (+ piercings), smut, oral, penetrative smut, fluff, slice of life, alternative universe: no curses

Note: save me, suguru geto

Since high school concluded, you moved out of your family home into a small apartment downtown with your long-term boyfriend, Suguru. Neither one of you went to college; you invested your time in full-time work while he was out involved in his own business. Whatever he was doing, he was earning money and paying rent—leaving you no reason to be mad at him. It wasn’t a bad life; the two of you had everything you could afford. It’s satisfactory living, not extravagant. While not much about you changed, everything about him did. His attitude, his appearance, and his physical build. You are fully aware of everything going on in his mind, and you do your best to guide him away from those negative emotions, but there is not much you can do; you cannot help someone who does not wish to change. After returning home from work, you decide to prepare dinner, knowing he will arrive shortly after you do. 

Two glasses of wine and two bowls of noodles are placed on the dining table; the noodles will have time to cool since he is still yet to appear—perhaps his train was delayed. Just as you were about to shoot him a text, the front door opened cautiously and he stepped inside. His jacket is sopping wet as the windows are pelted with rain, his eyes meeting yours with the same warmth they usually carry. You wait for him to hang his jacket up before you wrap your arms around him, your face nuzzled into the fabric of his sweater. Tobacco and cannabis linger on his skin, a scent he always fails to mask. Breaking apart from him swiftly, you dragged him over to the dinner table, encouraging him to eat since it was still relatively warm. The silence was making you uncomfortable; it was unlike the two of you to be quiet like this. It took him a while of poking at his food before he took a bite, signifying something was on his mind that he was yet to tell you about.

“How was your day?” You hum, running your finger over the rim of the wine glass as he looks up at you, covering his mouth while he finishes chewing.

“Not the worst, what about you?” He places one of his hands on his table, turning it around and motioning for you to put yours on top of it.

“The same as usual. I saw Shoko today, she asked if you were okay.” 

“Was Satoru there? I haven’t heard from him in years.”

“No, but he’s doing quite well for himself. He’s a teacher now; would you believe that?” 

“A teacher? He hardly paid attention in class; what’s he going to teach those kids?” Suguru snickers, squeezing your fingers as they intertwine with his.

“That’s what I was thinking! I didn’t want to be rude so I told her to send him our best wishes.”

“Yeah, I do hope he’s doing well. Enough of this though,” He pushes his bowl aside and stands up, pulling you with him, “Look at how gorgeous you are. Did you go to work like this?”

“Yes, is it nice? I tried my new makeup out; I wasn’t sure if this blush was my shade or not.”

“It’s lovely, it looks natural.”

“You always know the right things to say,” You beam at him, both hands cupping his face, “Stop flirting with me.”

“Flirting with you? That was a compliment. I can flirt with you if that’s what you want.” His voice was sultry as he slowly walked you backwards, pressing you against the wall.

His body rubbed against yours and you grew flustered from the close vicinity. Even though you were at home, you felt exposed being trapped in a position like this. Fingers snap your jaw up to meet his face while his lips attach to yours, his legs bumping yours as he consumes you. Suguru’s skin was tender, but his actions were rough, a surprisingly pleasant contrast. Failing to learn from previous experiences, you open your mouth and allow your tongues to meet, sending yourself tumbling through a spiral of sensual thoughts. Piercings cover his face, mainly his mouth area; the sensation of the metal on your skin as well as his skilled gestures never fails to arouse you.

“I need this,” Suguru mumbles into your mouth before stepping away, slinging his jumper off to reveal his chiselled figure, “Get on the sofa.”

“The sofa?”

“Please, my head is a fucking mess. I need to just—” Without allowing him time to finish, you fall back over the arm of the sofa and lie flat on top of the blankets.

In seconds, you were stripped down to your lingerie, his pupils wide and his hands exploring you freely. The sound of your heavy breathing was overpowered by the storm outside; thunder crackles and the rain continues hammering against the glass, droplets flying in since it was never closed. Suguru didn’t seem to pay any interest to his surroundings, too focused on groping your breasts until the lights flickered out. He stopped, but he never removed his hands. Your building was experiencing a complete blackout, all electronics were switched off. You place your hand on his forearm and hear him groan, his head drooping down and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. After he successfully wriggled out of the remainder of his clothing, he spoke up.

“I can’t keep living like this. You’re the only thing that gives me a reason to wake up—I’ve lost everything; I’ll never get back what I once had.” Hints of sorrow mixed in with his usual tone; you bury your hand in his hair and scratch his scalp, kissing his forehead in hopes of consoling him.

“Suguru,” You whisper his name, your lips close to his ear. He takes a deep inhale before standing up, rummaging through the pocket of his pants on the floor to pull out a lighter. The candle on the coffee table ignites, providing sparse lighting.

“It’s fine—you don’t need to bother. I had to get it out; it’s all so hard to accept. All I do is work, and all you do is work too—it’s not fair. We could’ve had so much.”

“If it means anything to you, I like what we have. It’s not a lot, but this place has everything I love inside—including you.”

“You shouldn’t have to live like this; we were doing fine until I fell out with my parents. I pushed away every single person I loved; I tried to get rid of you too. That one didn’t work the way I hoped it would though.”

“We’ll get through this together. You don’t have to suffer alone when I’m right here; I’m not going anywhere. You can try as much as you want—I’m not budging.” You sit up and snuggle your head into his arm, his muscles relaxing instantly. All the tension that had surged over him dissipated; the relief that comes from having a person who will always try for you is the cure to his self-destructive actions.

While the two of you were sitting, staring into the flame of the candle, his lips curved up and revealed his gleaming smile. He shakes his head and his bangs scatter, fluttering over his eyes. In a sudden motion, he takes you into his arms and strides into the bedroom, successfully navigating through the dark. The mattress sways as he drops you onto it and climbs on top of you, drawing you into a kiss. Much like all of Suguru’s kisses, they packed passion in their own distinct way. How a face that contains so much sweetness could be so brash in intercourse would surprise many—it shocked you the first time. His lips trace down your core, stopping just before he reaches your panties. He slips his fingers under the material, lacing them up with your slick before teasing your clit. How a woman so gorgeous could be so patient and understanding is like a gift that keeps on giving—your beauty is both internal and external; your energy radiates and allows you to glow like the sun, bringing floods of hope into his life.

You tighten around his fingers, frantically patting around the bed in search of him amongst the darkness. Even though you cannot see him and he’s out of reach, he will always be there. The obscene sound of squelching begins to increase in volume before he takes his fingers out. He leans down and presses a kiss to the side of your face, locking your hands together as he repeats a few phrases of praise in a hushed tone. A bright light flashes, revealing him in front of you as thunder rages from the sky above; in all your years of living, you have never heard rumbles so blistering.

“Suguru,” You mutter his name as he dots a line of pecks along your collarbones, stopping him mid-process. Wind howls and your building experiences a mild tremor from the force it hits, “The window.”

“I’ll close it; see if the lamps work.” He jumps out of bed and slams the window shut, locking out some of the sound. To no avail, flicking the on button of the lamp did nothing.

“It’s not turning on.”

After digging through the bedside table drawer with the flashlight of his phone, he pulls out a small remote and presses all the buttons; after many failed attempts, there is a sudden pop of colour from behind the bed frame. You had convinced him LED lights were essential three years ago even though you had only used them a handful of times; thankfully, the batteries are still functioning. Since no other button works, it’s stuck on a dull shade of violet. Although nothing amusing has happened, you hear Suguru’s silky laugh while he stands up from the floor.

“What?” You tug on his arm, index finger tracing up the length of his tattoo sleeve.

“It reminds me of when we first moved in, that’s all. You were begging me to put those lights up and you never used them.”

“We did use them—I just forgot they were there. At least it's your favourite colour.”

No other person could diminish his negative thoughts other than you; the sight of you melts anything harmful he harbours, instead making him crave the endorphins that come with your presence. For someone to carry so much adoration for someone as unstable as him must have the purest heart; a match that shouldn’t be possible but works significantly well for both parties. He would never burden you with his stress, and he would never expect you to overwork yourself just to please him—you do it all naturally without having to try. Your lipstick is smeared and your once pristine hair a mess, but you couldn’t look bad even if you tried your hardest to do so. His thumb wipes away the smudged trail of makeup and he adjusts some strands of hair, piecing you back together slowly but surely. Your eyes zip down from his pecs to his abdomen; Suguru was toned, not overly hench—just how you like it. With the prolonged sexual tension, both of you were becoming impatient. He took his boxers off and held his dick, stroking up and down the length until he reached the tip. You lean forward, now on your hands and knees as you take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip.

Intimacy should always feel comfortable with your partner—that’s one thing you both preach. Pushing anyone out of their comfort zone is not true love or support, it’s a selfish chase for one's own pleasure. If you are willing to sacrifice your partner’s security for your own needs, you are breaking the trust that should always be present. How are you supposed to rely on someone who constantly makes unpredictable decisions at your expense? The foundation of this relationship is strong; a set of principles was acknowledged before the two of you became official. His hand is tangled in your hair, bobbing your head in a rhythm fit to please him. He constantly checks up on you, never removing his hand from your face as he comforts you through the occasional gags.

Not wanting to cum too quickly, he pulls you away, slipping out of your mouth while a glob of your saliva rolls down your chest. Your attention had been completely drawn from the thunderstorm outside, now focused on the flames of desire lighting up inside your core. Bare; no panties or bra—fully exposed for his eyes to explore. He spreads your legs and positions himself in between them, lifting one partially to angle himself better. Vulnerability is one of the most beautiful aspects of sex when you are certain your body will be respected; no shame arises even when you find yourself in the most unflattering positions. Veins trail down from Suguru’s v-line, likely due to his heightened vascularity from the sudden influx in blood flow. He first prods your entrance with the tip, coaxing himself with some of your wetness to aid the penetration. As he inches in further, your breath shakes during an exhale; your nails are digging into the sheets, preparing to adjust when he bottoms out. 

Suguru was average size; nothing more than five inches while fully erect—though average doesn’t equate to small, so it still requires some adjustment before he fully begins. Taking into consideration of his girth and stamina—he has always been able to make you cum; knowing how to fuck certainly means more than size. After reaching the deepest point he could, he pulls out and snaps his hips back in, setting the pace. The bed would creak upon occasion, though it was mainly covered by the chaos of nature outside. Being able to moan without alerting the neighbours was a relief, though you had to keep it tame; the walls are only so thick after all.

“You’re too tight,” Suguru grunts, lifting your other leg to find a different spot to hit in hopes of relaxing your muscles. You had your eyes closed, travelling through the satisfaction in your own world until he snapped you out of it with the flick of his fingers on your thigh, “Look at me.”

“You might have saved my life.” He lets out an amused huff, continuing to ruthlessly thrust in and out of you—leaving you to speak between hitched breaths.

“Maybe you realised that there was more worth living for.” You had been aware of his declining mental health status, but what you were not aware of was the paperwork for land to purchase that had become drenched on the window sill in your living area. Soggy beyond repair—the ink smeared down the page. His idea for a revolution was nothing but a bizarre fantasy that deluded his mind—he wanted to preach views he now realises are unrealistic.

His thrusts turned to rutting, both of your moans mixing as his body flops forward. Sweat from his forehead drips onto you while he buries his face into your shoulder, struggling to keep himself upright for much longer. You were bound to cum before him with the spot his tip was prodding, and you did. You came completely undone, both your arms and cunt squeezing him tightly. Gasps and whines reverberate as he chases his relief, exhausting your body while he murmurs out several apologies. In a matter of minutes, the coil of pleasure snapped inside and he released his ropes of cum inside you, taking a few steady breaths before he replied to the sentence the previous conversation was left at. 

“The day I see you walking down the aisle will make me realise it was all worth it in the end.” By that time, he has hopes of Satoru and Shoko reconsidering their stances and taking him back into their lives. One argument amongst the three had led to such a drastic change—though if he were asked if he could go back, he could confidently admit he wouldn’t. Life requires you to journey down several paths to reach the point you are at today; one minor change may have resulted in this relationship between you and him never forming—a risk he wouldn’t be willing to take.

[kpop---scenarios]

Reckless (5)

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Genre: Brothers Best Friend

Warning: Heartache

Word Count: 2.2k

Taglist: @hyunjinhoexxx @ovulatingrn @jisunglyricist @guiltycoco @fawnpeaks @purple-bell @caught-in-the-afterglow @ana-marais98 @rylea08 @astraystayastayastray @partyparty-yah @skzswife @sillyhal @blackbluerose666 @mmarusa @seungminsapuppy @chanbahng29

A/N: Let me know in the comments if you think Y/N will give Minho another chance!?

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |

“What the fuck are you two doing!?” You scream as you run down the stairs, just as Chan raises his fist to Minho. You place your hand on Chan's chest, looking up at him with worried eyes. He's so focused on Minho he barely notices you there, until you press your hand harder on his chest. He feels you, he looks down, into your eyes and breathes. You can see the bruise forming under his eye right before you. He lowers his fist, unleashing his hand.

“I'm sorry, Y/N.” Chan sighs.

“Are you okay?” You ask, gently running your thumb over his swollen face.

“Nothing I haven't dealt with before.” He chuckles. You smile at him before turning around. “You.” You snap, pointing at Minho.

“What?” He asks, crossing his arm.

“What the fuck is your problem!?” You yell. “Why are you punching Chan?”

“He fucking deserved it.” Minho spits. Chan lunges for Minho. You get in between the two, pushing Chan out of the house. The two of you walk to Chan's car as he tries to calm down.

“He's such a fucking asshole.” Chan groans, speeding from your house.

“Tell me about it.” You sigh. You glance over at Chan, as he turns onto different streets to get to the restaurant. You watch him as he chews on his bottom lip, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he drives.

“What's up?” You ask, giving him a smile.

“What do you mean?” He chuckles.

“You look like you're deep in thought over there.” You giggle.

“Yeah.. I'm battling internally about bringing up something. I don't want you mad at me.”

“Just ask.”

You knew it was going to be about Minho. And this time you weren't going to lie.

“You and Minho…” He pauses. You sigh.

“Yes.” You begin. “Minho and I have been sleeping together periodically but..” you now pause.

“But?”

“but.. I'm not sure to be honest. I don't know what it is. He's never taken me out, he tells people I'm not his type, he gets jealous when I'm with other guys but he doesn't want to be seen with me.. he won't tell Jisung about us but he'll go date this Maya girl.. and still fool around with me.. and I know I should stop it, I know he doesn't treat me good, he's mean but he's protective.. and I don't know, I'm just so confused.” You groan, dropping your head into your hands.

“Come on, I'll say what I need to say inside.” He smiles, getting out of the car. You'd been rambling so long you hadn't even noticed the car had stopped. The two of you walk into the restaurant, to be seated immediately. You browse the menu, deciding to go with your favorite brunch menu item.

“So.” Chan says, clearing his throat. “It's good that you realize he's not treating you how you should be treated - and yes, I'm giving you the ‘you deserve better’ lecture, because you do.” He says. “Y/N you're bright, and beautiful and you absolutely deserve the world and someone who is going to publicly praise you in that world.” He smiles.

Your heart flutters. Chan was so sweet, thoughtful and caring. Not to mention so handsome. You felt safe with him and you liked him, so why couldn't you stop thinking about Minho?

“I think I need time away from him.” You say, resting your head on your palm. Time away would do you good but why did it have to hurt your heart so much?

“I think that's the best idea. You're more than welcome to stay with me.” He smiles.

“As much as I appreciate that, you live with Changbin, Seungmin and Jeongin in a two bedroom apartment. I don't think there is much more room.” You giggle.

“I think you're right.” He laughs.

Later that day, you had messaged Hyunjin about crashing on his couch. You vaguely remembered your drunken night together, but definitely remembered him trying to kiss you. You decided that it was just from the two of you being drunk and left it at that. He of course, said yes about 3 seconds after you texted him. When Chan brought you home, you ran upstairs to pack some things, clothes, toiletries, stuff for school, things you would need to be gone for a week or two. You ran back downstairs and left while there was no one home, got back in Chan's car and he drove you over to Hyunjin's place. You hadn't even told Jisung that you weren't going to be home. You wouldn't have been able to do it in person, when he asked you why, what were you going to say? You fucked his best friend and he continued to treat you like shit but you continued to let him fuck you? No, you weren't ready for that conversation. It was easier to lie over text, for you at least. You told him it was a school project. He believed you, of course he did. He knew how you were about school.

“So.” Hyunjin begins. “You wanna tell me why you're staying here instead of your house?” He asks.

“Not yet.” You smile. “I've got a lot of things to sort out.”

“Is it Minho?” He asks.

You nod your head.

“Take your time, sweet. I'll be here whenever you need me.” He smiles. You curled up in the spare bedroom, in the new bed, in the new sheets that Hyunjin went out and bought today, specifically so you didn't have to sleep on the couch. You told him you would have been fine but nope. That's not how he does things.

As you laid alone with your thoughts, you couldn't help but feel like somehow this whole thing was your fault. You technically did start this whole.. whatever it was. But you knew it wasn't. He started it too, not just you. He's as guilty as you, if not more. You felt like you needed to talk to him to see where the two of you stood, but after what he said to you at the restaurant and then him punching Chan.. how could you even face him? You couldn't.

And you didn't.

The first week he texted you, a few times a day. He asked you what was going on, why weren't you home?

I miss you.

Did he? Or did he miss the hole that couldn't say no to him.

You never answered him. You read the messages and used a lot of self control to put your phone down and ignore him.

The second week it was mostly Jisung who messaged you. He was starting to believe it was not a school project that had you out of the house. He asked you to come home so he could talk to you. But you couldn't. Not yet. You were finally starting to feel a little bit different. Thoughts of Minho didn't fill your head at all hours of the day anymore, everyday it seemed to be less and less. You were starting to feel like it wasn't your fault that he didn't want anything more with you. You had often wondered, what was wrong with you? Why weren't you good enough?

And then on the 3rd week, you realized that it wasn't you. It had nothing to do with you and it was all him. You were worth more than what he was giving you. Jisung had messaged you, asking you what the hell was going on. Why Minho was sulking around the house, his fuse was short and he lost it over nothing. He said Minho was miserable and wanted to know if you knew anything about it.

You said you didn't.

By the 4th week, you were feeling better than you ever had. Even Hyunjin had noticed. You were brighter, happier and seemed to be more like yourself.

“You look like you've finally worked through everything.” Hyunjin smiles.

“You're right.” You laugh. “I've finally realized my worth.”

“Good. You deserve nothing but the best.” He says.

“Jisung said he was gonna be out tonight with Jisoo and..him. I'm gonna go home and grab a few other things. Thank you again, jinnie. You really saved me.”

“I'll save you anytime you need.” He grins.

Later that night you walk into the house you hadn't stepped foot in, in a month. It seemed different but the same at the same time. It smelled the same but different. You didn't know how to explain it. You quickly ran up the stairs, walking into your room to grab your things. You got some clothing items and a few other odds and ends you needed. You were going to turn around when you heard a door upstairs shut, footsteps coming down the hall. You freeze. You left your door open. You weren't facing it but you knew. You could feel a pair of eyes staring at you.

“Y/N?” He whispers.

“No.” You panic. “I have to go.” You say, rushing past him, and down the stairs.

“Y/N!” he yells. “Wait!” he chases you down the stairs. “Y/N! Please, wait!” he says, reaching out. He grabs your wrist, pulling you closer to him. You dropped everything in your hands.

“DON'T!” You yell, breathing heavily. “don't touch me. I don't want to talk to you. I'm finally getting to be in a better place.” You gasp.

“I'm fucking miserable, Y/N. I miss you.” He cries.

“Do you miss me? Or do you just miss fucking me?” You snap. Minho looks shocked.

“What?” He asks.

“Is that a hard question to answer?” You scoff.

“I miss you.” He says. “I.. I want to be with you.”

“In public? With everyone knowing? With Jisung knowing?” You ask.

“That's.. it's just..” he pauses.

“Yeah that's what I thought.” You laugh. If you didn't, you'd fucking cry and you didn't want to waste anymore tears on him.

“What can I do? What can I do for you to stay with me?” He asks.

“You seriously don't get it, do you?” You ask.

“Is it because of Chan?” He asks.

“You really don't fucking get it. I fucking loved you!” You cry. Tears rolling down your cheeks, you couldn't hold it in anymore. “I loved you and you used me. And I went along with it because at least I got you in some way.” You breathe. You didn't hear the front door behind you open. Or the footsteps quietly walking in. “But you couldn't be bothered to make any kind of effort for me. Instead you got jealous when I was with other guys, you said vile things to me, you made me feel worthless but I still let you fuck me! I loved you and you broke me! Because you refused to be honest with yourself or with Jisung!”

“You did what to my sister?” You hear from behind you. You turn around, Jisung stands there, Jisoo by his side as he shakes with anger.

“What the fuck did you do to my sister!?”

“I can explain.” Minho says, backing away from the angry man.

“Why the fuck is my sister screaming at you about how you fucked her and threw her away?” He yells.

“I never threw her away, man! I didn't do that. I love her!” Minho yells back. He looks shocked at his words. You stare at him with wide eyes, Jisung still rages.

“If you love her why the fuck would you do that to her?”

“I was scared! I was.. so fucking scared. You said she was off limits, but it was like I became addicted and I didn't fucking want too. You're my best friend, you've done so much for me. I tried to fucking stay away, I said some awful shit to her in hopes she would leave me, I tried dating Maya to move on from her but I fucking can't.” Minho cries. “I'm a piece of shit man, I know this. I fucked it all up, I should have been fucking honest from the start..I'm so sorry. I'm sorry to you Y/N, for everything. Jisung.. fuck man, I'm sorry.” He whispers.

The house is silent. So quiet you could hear your heart beating at Minho's confession. Your head was spinning, you didn't know what to do or what to think. Your heart hurt, but it also was beating for him. You were still so fucking mad at him, but you still loved him. The second you saw him, every feeling you had ever felt for him came rushing back, and you didn't know how to handle this.

“Please forgive me, Y/N.” Minho cries. “Please. I'm so fucking sorry.” He still looked so beautiful even as miserable as he was right now. Even with tears falling down his face as he begged you to forgive him.

It was too much. This was all too much.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Jisung asks. The room was spinning. You felt hot, like your throat was closing up. You looked at Jisung in a panic as your eyes closed, you fell, and the world went black.

[alluringnectar]

my baby

pairings; loser!ellie williams x cheerleader! reader

cw; interalized homophobia, angst, tribbing, fingering (r! recieving), fluff, bullying (kinda), making out, slur, petnames like “baby & princess” , not proof read yet!

wc; 17k

life has never been better, you were handed the world at the age of 6. you never had to worry about having no friends, or not having the latest designer bag, and certainly not having everybody wrapped around your finger. you were a cheerleader & from that only, everyone respected you. you dedicated yourself into looks: always on diets, hitting the gyms, getting your nails done, having the most expensive makeup and so much more. you were the most outgoing girl known to mankind, never missing a rager or party. your friend groups were mainly other cheerleaders, and the jocks on the football team. they were assholes, but you didn’t care because so were you.

you never once paid attention in class, especially english. clicking your pen and having your eyes everywhere but the board. you snap out of your daze when your teacher announces that there will be a partner project, and she would assign the groups. you hear your name, and you pray that you get one of your friends but instead you hear the name ellie williams.

“you cannot be fucking serious” you mutter under your breath, looking at ellie whose a row infront of you.

“what was that?” the teacher asked you. “nothing.” you mock her tone, earning a laugh from your classmates.

“alright then everybody get to your partners we don’t have all day!” she claps her hands, urging everyone to switch their seats.

you stay in your seat, motioning ellie to

come where you are. why would you have to move? ellie rolled her eyes, not having the best impression of you either. “look,” ellie says “i wouldn’t have picked you either.” you scoff, “great to know we’re on the same page!” you look at her green eyes, and the way she flutters her eyelash. you were about to say something until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

it was a jock, and you end up talking to him for the rest of the period, not caring to look back at ellie, who was doing all the work. “another prissy bitch.” ellie thinks to herself.

as soon as the bell rings, ellie packs her stuff and leaves as soon as she could. she sees her friends, dina and jesse, and she sighs in relief. “you would not believe who i got paired up with.” dina and jesse both furrow their brows in unison. “a CHEERLEADER! i swear this world is against me, i already know im gonna have to do this project with myself.” dina replies, “yikes , you have it unlucky. i would NOT wanna be you.” jesse laughs and that makes ellie roll her eyes & reply “thanks dina that makes me feel a million times better.” “well jesse and I have to get going, good luck with her!” dina yells while grabbing jesse by the hand and dragging him through the hallways. ellie sighs and puts her back against the locker.

you put your bag down, and flop down on your bed chewing on some protein bars after practice. you grab your laptop and check your grade book. and thats when you see it. you’re gonna fail english class. “shit shit shit!” you tell yourself, pacing around your room in circles. you couldn’t give to shits if you were failing english, but what you did care about is being on academic probation. if you’re put on academic probation, you won’t be able to cheer. you can’t let that happen. so you grabbed your phone, and started texting everyone for ellie’s number. when you finally receive a message with her number, you smile and immediately text her.

“heyyy”

“who is this?”

“your partner in english.”

“why are you texting me?”

“do you wanna come over tomorrow to work on it?”

“is this a joke?”

“ why would i be? i have practice, so is 7:30 good?”

“yeah, ill be there just give me the address.”

it’s the next day and you come from practice drenched in sweat. you go into the shower, making sure its cold so you can relax. as you get out, you put on a robe and some uggs slipper and you hear the bell ring.

you walk over to answer, the fact ellie was supposed to come over completely slipped your mind. you open the door, and you see ellie.

“shit! is it 7:30 already?”

ellie takes full notice you’re in nothing but a robe and she blushes.

“yeah.”

“fuck im so sorry- practice had me exhausted-“

ellie reassures you, telling you it was okay because she found it kinda cute that your hair was wet and your lips were plump.

“here ellie, you can come inside, just stay in my room, i’ll get changed and i’ll be there in a sec.

ellie nods, and sinks down into your bed. she takes a moment to take in everything in your room. she took note of the way your walls were stripped pink and white to the little ballerina jewelry box that looked antique.

you walk into your room handing her some snacks. “do you want some?” “sure.”

ellie says. & now shes starting to think you’re not a total bitch.

this time, you ended up getting no work done but for a different reason. you spent your time gossiping to ellie, about who slept with who, or who did what. you never realized how pretty ellie truly was. her freckles decorated her face like how constellations decorate the sky. you look down into her lips, and ellie stops talking about whatever she was. ellie and you spend a brief moment just gazing into each other’s eyes.

you both get flustered and she breaks the silence by saying “um- do you have a hair tie?” “yeah of course here” and you hand her one.

you look at the time and gasp, it’s almost 11:30. were you guys really talking for that long? “ellie, do you wanna sleep over? or i can walk yo-“ “no, ill sleep over it’s fine.” you nod. grabbing blankets for her, “you can sleep on my bed i’ll sleep on my couch.” ellie scoffs “no fucking way, i’m not taking your bed, i can have the couch.”

and due to both of your guys’ stubbornness, you are laying next to eachother, in the same bed staring at the ceiling. you look over and you see ellie has fallen asleep. she looked so beautiful and her front hair pieces fell on her face, capturing her beautiful. you move your hand to tuck it but then you get this wave of disgust. not to her, but to yourself.

what the fuck am i doing? I can’t like girls. am i stupid? i’m not gonna be seen as some dyke on the cheerleader team. my reputation would be ruined.

you ended up falling asleep teary eyed, scared to accept if these feelings are really true and maybe they’ll go away.

it’s almost summer, and the feelings are still lingering and infact they are stronger than before. after acing the project, you still

continued to hang out with ellie. you and her hung out every friday, and it became a ritual. you were starting to fall in love with her, and you knew there was no way out. everytime your asshole friends said anything about her that was negative, you jumped to defend her name like a knight. “you know the project deadline was months ago, while do you still hangout with her.” slightly irritated you snap, “she isn’t even bad once you get to know her, she’s funny and sweet.”

it wasn’t any different for ellie either, expect she was 100% convinced you were straight. you never once spoke of your sexuality to her, and for any matter guys in general but why would you like her? she grew up playing with worms, while you grew up going on constant vacations. but even though she thought it would never happen, she asked the universe for this one thing. she prayed to a lord she didn’t even believe in, hoping he will for once listen to her.

God works in mysterious ways because you’re sitting in ellie’s room drinking vodka blasting music. it’s odd how vodka can make somebody so honest. ellie was rambling about a story with an ex she had named cat, and drama between the two. she developed a habit of gossiping, probably from you. to make sure you’re still listening, she asks you. “how about you, any boy trouble?” its silent, and you look at her and start sobbing. ellie’s heart drops down to her stomach and instantly grabs you, pulling you close to her. “hey was it something i said? im sorry-“ “no!” you manage to yell out between your broken sobs. “i don’t think i like guys.” “what?” ellie says, shocked from what she heard.

“when i look at you, it’s not the same for any guy. sure i’ve made out with guys, but not even that gives me the same feeling of when im talking to you. i want it to be you so bad, ellie.” you hiccup, tears staining your eyes. “but this is all new for me, and i hate myself for being this way, i had everything anyone could ask for and it feels like im throwing it all away.”

ellie’s mind is going in all directions, the fact you like her. the fact shes finally getting her prayers answered. she pushes it to the side, because what you need is comfort. ellie holds you tight. so tight, you cannot wiggle out of her grasp. “hey baby, it all works out at the end, your existence isn’t a sin, people who truly love you, will accept you for who you are. and you don’t have to figure things out right now, take your time.” ellie replies, hovering her hand over your face to wipe your tears.

you’re looking up at her, inching your face closer to hers. she leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. you’re eager for more, so you grab her hair from behind and sloppily slid your mouth inside. ellie pulls away from the kiss, to get air, saliva connecting you guys to each other.

“hey els?” you say softly, having your knees tucked in.

“yeah?”

“since school is ending, there’s gonna be a rager. do you wanna come?”

ellie smiles at you, accepting your offer.

“i’ll be there.”

it’s the day of the rager, and ellie’s at her house with dina and jesse on her bed. “are you sure you really wannq go?” dina asks. ellie’s throwing her clothes everywhere, looking for an outfit to wear. “yeah,” jesse adds on “she doesn’t look like somebody who would hang out with you, what if this is all a prank?” ellie stops to look at them. “guys, i know you’re concerned but trust me on this, okay?” they nod their heads. “whatever happens, you can always tell us okay? whatever you choose to do , we’re with you.” ellie smiles and pulls them into a group hug. she’s wearing a wife pleaser, red flannel, and some jeans. shes tying her converse, she walks out the door, saying “wish me luck!”

she arrives at the house, and the music is so loud she can hear it from where she’s at. nervously she turns to twist the door knob and instantly she goes looking for you. she’s happy today after what happen yesterday, and she’s thinking to herself nothing can change her mood. until she saw you. you had a red solo cup in your hand. you were with a jock, who made it pretty clear he wanted you. was ellie a joke? was everything you said to her nothing after all? her friends were right. clenched fists, she turns to head out of the party, rushing to her car trying not to cry.

the jock wouldn’t take no for an answer, you’ve made it clear you’re not interested in him. “don’t be like that, i see the way you look at me.” you scrunch up your nose in disgust. “well you must be fucking blind.” and thats when you see in the corner of your eye, ellie. “fuck!” you murmur to yourself. ellie is already going towards the exist. as she’s walking down the steps of the porch. you scream, “wait! it’s not what it looks like, i swear-“

“do you think im a fucking joke? you made me feel like a fool.”

“ellie i swear nothing happened i was-“

“were you telling him your pranked worked? were you laughing about me? it’s done. i hope you had your fun.”

ellie is about to turn your back on you.

“ellie im in love with you!” you yell. loud enough

that people from the outside were looking at what was happening.

ellie looks around, “you’re drunk.”

“yes im drunk but that doesn’t change the fact im in love with you. the man that was talking to me. i was telling him to leave me alone. i only have eyes for you ellie! anybody who knows me has to get to know you first!” you breath starts to hitch, knowing you’re about to cry and how people are listening but you no longer care.

“i use to cry, praying that God took these feelings away. now im praying to God for letting me meet you. God knew I needed you Ellie.”

ellie stands there in disbelief, she doesn’t know what to say but her heart is about to explode. she runs to you, takes your hand and takes sits you in the passenger seat. closing the door, she starts the car and starts driving. she looks over at you, and you’re already staring at her. she places a hand on your thigh, and caresses it. “you’re perfect in every way, ways im not. i couldn’t believe somebody as amazing as you would want me, and im sorry.”

you smile, and place your hand on top of hers, “it’s okay, we were both pretty caught up” you giggle.

she would fight the world to hear that giggle again.

she pulls up to your driveway, and shes about to drive off but you ask her to stay the night. and how could she say no to that pretty face of yours?

it’s all dark, but you hold her hand and she follows you into your room. you play some music on your record player.

“do you like mazzy star els?”

“i dont listen to her much, but her voice is pretty.”

you walk up to her, and hold her by the waist. ellie looks down at you and pressed her lips onto yours. you close your eyes, melting into the kiss. you start getting hungrier for more, and you open your mouth to let her tongue slip into yours. the kisses start getting needier, and she walks you until your laying back on your bed. you straddle her waist, and she puts a hand up your dress causing you to whine.

“you’re okay with this right?”

“of course els, please hurry.”

“please what?”

you look away from her gaze, shyly, you fiddle with the seams of ellies wife pleaser and whisper to her , “please touch me, it can only be you.” and with that, ellie is slipping your dress off. kissing your collarbone all the way down to the welts of your breast. she takes off your matching set of panties and bra. and her cold hands on pinching your nipples make your back arch into her touch. she sucks on your nipples, flicking her tongue on it back and forth earning whimpers from you each and every time.

“n-need you els..” you stutter. “im not going anywhere baby.” she chuckles, her breath on your beast making you close your eyes in pleasure. “im gonna touch you now okay? tell me when to stop.” she slides her fingers between your folds.

“already so wet for me princess” and as she hovers to your face to kiss you, her front pieces of her hair are touching your own face. you’re sloppily making out with her, moaning into her mouth.

then she puts two of her fingers in, feeling you instantly clench around them. you start moaning louder and louder “ellie! ellie faster!” and she listens to you, curling her fingers even faster before hitting you in the g spot. your thighs start shaking. and your grabbing onto ellie’s fore arm, clawing it for any way to feel relief.

your moans reach an all time high and you know you’re almost there. im- im about to cum els!” and she starts sucking on your neck, “let it out for me baby, you deserve it come on.” and you reach your climax, sweating and panting. she takes her fingers out of you and sucks them. “you taste so good, everything about you is so sweet.”

still fucked out, you murmured incoherent sentences. “i wanna feel you against me els, please, please.” and ellie looks at you, grabbing your waist to pull you up. you looked at her in this love dovey expression and her heart skips a beat. “can i take this off?” you ask and she gulps and nods. you take off her flannel. then wife pleaser. then her jeans. leaving her in underwear and her sports bra, which now you’re taking off her underwear.

as for the most part both of you are naked, you place your cunt onto hers. you grind against her lightly. both of you whimpering sweet nothings. “i love you els i love you i love you” as you both of you are sweating, holding onto eachother, kissing as you slide on her and feel both of your holes clenching around nothing. “you’re doing so good f’ me” ellie blabbers. both of you are starting to reach your orgasms as you both moan in a higher octave, clawing at each others back, and feeling yourself twitch.

“i think im gonna cum i think-“ “come with me, be a good girl for me please.” she tells you needly, but you can’t even tease her because you want this just as much, if not more. both of you reach your climax, beads of sweat running down each of your fore heads. you disconnect yourself from her cunt. both of your arousals sticking to each other in a way your bodies seem like they’re made to mold into each other’s.

you collapse onto the back of your bed. ellie crawls to lay on your chest. kissing you over and over again, as a way to praise you. you giggle and run your hands through her hair, massaging her scalp.

“shouldn’t we clean up ellie?” you inquire, and you feel her breath on you again as she says “i wanna stay like this.” you nod and you bring blankets over you guys.

“im in love with you too.” ellie tells you.

“i think you showed me already.” you laughed.

“so are we girlfriends?” ellie asks you, looking up at you.

you kiss ellie, and tell her “if you go to every one of my practices.”

safe to say there was never a practice ellie didn’t go to.

[kentopedia]

it's been decades since you've last seen dazai; your lover & your maker. now that you're finally happy, he's haunting you again with a thousand buried memories.

overall contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, exes to lover, gothic romance, blood drinking, vampire!reader, vampire!dazai, smut, cheating reader, complicated relationships, blood, gore, jealousy, manipulation, religious symbolism, betrayal, reunions — 5.7k words

PART VI ♰ MASTERLIST

With your sullen mood resurfacing, a hazy dreariness fell upon your apartment in the week following Dazai’s departure. While you were happy to sulk, bury your nose in distractions and the taste of human blood, Atsushi was determined not to let you. With all the goodness in his heart, he picked you back up, put you on your feet, and stitched up the rift that was slowly growing between you. 

Although he was a human, and he did not have the wisdom backed by decades of living, he was a detective. A rather good one, at that. It was easy for him to spot the shifts in your moods, as subtle as they were. 

Atsushi never pried, never forced you to open up and spill all the details of what was bothering you. It was just one trait that differed from Dazai, who was always forcing your tongue, even with his own pockets full of secrets. 

For the week, Atsushi gave you space. He stayed at Ranpo’s as promised, and let you mope and drown in your own despondency. But when Saturday evening came, he had grown weary of the tension and stilted conversations that soured between the two of you. It was obvious from the way he continued to bring up the conversation, even as desperately as you tried to quell it.

Under your intense gaze, Atsushi uncomfortably sipped as his water, mustering up a smile. Although you normally sat beside him as he ate, with your own plate empty before you, it felt strange, this time. Something in the air between you had shifted, as he twisted in the chair, eyes flitting away before meeting your own hesitantly.

“Will you be staring at me for the entire night?” Atsushi asked, his tone playful, but only to disguise his genuine concern. 

A frown marred your face, and you blinked, realizing just how intently you’d been observing his every move. Like a hawk to its prey — a questionable comparison, to say the least. 

“Sorry,” you said gently, looking back down at your hands. “I didn’t mean to.” 

His eyes softened, but he said nothing, jaw working tightly as he chewed the tough meat. Despite his polite mannerisms, the action still grated at you, his teeth dragging against the other quickly becoming an irritation. Especially as the action of him swallowing the thick lumps of meat drew your attention to his pale throat, something of a beacon, shrouded in candlelight.

Atsushi saw you watching once again, and sighed. Although it was the first night that you had shared since he’d been away, he didn’t feel any closer, the space between you even colder than before.  

He knew how you hungered now, even if it had been similar to those years before him, when you’d hunted into the evenings with Dazai. Your bloodlust was uncontrollable and erratic, and though you’d never wanted Atsushi’s blood before, you craved it now. The sweet dessert that was coiled under his skin, paired with love and desire, tied up in a warm human vessel. 

Atsushi rubbed his eyes and set the utensils down. “No. I’m sorry. I know you wanted some space, but I should have made more of an effort… Before now. I should have—” Atsushi worried his lip, frustrated with himself for inconceivable reasons. 

You didn’t know how to tell him that none of this was his fault.

That thought led you back to that evening, just a few years ago, when you’d first seen him. How alluring he’d been, sitting with his mismatched friends, head tilted back in laughter. His voice may have been hushed, drowned out by the loud personalities of the others, but it was so precious to you. Back then, he’d been quiet, without much of the confidence that he had now. 

His self-discovery had very little to do with you, you knew that. But you’d loved him with all the intensity of an immortal being, and that surely counted for something. 

“It’s okay,” you stopped him, leaning over the table, wanting to reach for him. “I’m the one who can’t control my hunger. I’m a pathetic excuse for a human and a vampire.”

You didn’t say that last part. 

His face twisted at that. Something clicked, in a few breaths, as the reality of your words, your lust for blood, finally sunk it. It had always just been the thing between you. Atsushi had seen you drink from animals, had even helped you get them. Never, though, had it been him you were desiring, his blood that created such a constant state of anguish. 

“I know that it’s not…” He paused, thinking of a word to accurately describe his thoughts. “Conventional. It’s probably not even feasible for us to carry on this way. But I don’t want—” Atsushi’s jaw clenched, and his eyes drifted away from your darkened gaze to the floor. “I love you. I love you very much, and I may be a detective, opposed to violence, but I’m willing to do what it takes to stay together.” 

The words should’ve calmed you, sparked a sense of peace through your veins, but they caused your heart to sink instead. You didn’t want him to be familiar with your craving for blood. 

Instead, it seemed he only became more comfortable with the idea of it as time went on. 

“Atsushi…” you began. With the way you said his name, close to a scolding, you’d expected him to deflate.

But he remained stoic, his eyes never faltering with dishonesty. “I’m serious, honey,” he said, and then, he did reach for you, squeezing your cold hands against the table, fingers warming you almost as easily as the blood in his veins could. “I know how you feel about turning me, but I want to be with you.” The gentle smile swept back on his face, lighting it up swiftly, as it erased the sharpness of his previous expression. “We’ll just take things at your pace, okay?” 

The hold of guilt crept back up on you as you stole your own hand back from him. How kind he was, to offer you that, when it was him that was most deserving of it. “Atsushi, you must know I’m not a good person. You must know, by now.” 

“You are to me. You’re the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. Isn’t that enough for you?” 

Was it enough? 

If you were being truthful, with yourself and your fiancé, you’d grown uncertain. 

There was an abundance of love in your heart for Atsushi, but he shared the darkest parts of it with another. It felt wrong, to lead him into another life, on the promise that you’d be his eternal, faithful companion. 

You hadn’t even been able to do that in his mortal life. 

Instead of letting the truth spill out, you nodded, slowly. 

An exhale of relief left Atsushi, as he leaned back into his chair, more at ease than he’d been all week. “Okay. Okay, then that’s enough for me.” 

He finished eating, the tension between you still there, but diminishing. Atsushi seemed appeased, and finished the meal by chattering on about his day, his mood elevated. 

Then, as he took the last bite of his dinner, he seemed struck with an idea. “We should go out tonight,” he said, nodding to himself, already excited by the prospect. “We haven’t gone drinking in months.” 

You tossed him a skeptical look, but smiled, shaking your head at his excitement. Despite his laid-back, often timid nature, he could be quite stubborn when he set his mind to something. Especially if that idea — in his mind, at least — was something that could help another. 

He appeared especially convinced that a night out in the city would be enough to cure your woes.

“You know I can’t get drunk,” you laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. “And alcohol tastes quite bland, as a vampire.” 

Atsushi ignored all your arguments, and came around the table, pulling you out of your seat. He laid a long, feverish kiss on your lips, one that stunned you into silence. 

“Who said you needed to get drunk? Someone has to be sober, to help get the other home.” 

“Ah,” you said, recovering from the fits of passion that he had seemed possessed by. Kissing him across his forehead, you wrapped your arms around his neck and responded playfully. “I see. This is a ploy to get drunk and then blame it on me?” 

He shrugged, leaning into you, with a childish expression. Lines creased along the corners of his eyes, on his forehead, reminding you that he was still beautifully human. And while he was only a year older than you’d been when you had turned, he still held the evidence of the happiness, the sorrows, that he’d beheld as a human. 

You, as a vampire, had been smoothed over, lines scraped into a perfect marble, not a blemish or wrinkle on your face. Save for the scars that had been permanently etched onto your skin, you were nothing short of perfection. 

It made you ache, sometimes, to know that you would never appear so human. You would never get to see yourself age with grace. 

A blessing and a curse, you supposed, as Atsushi pulled you from the table, kissing across your face with a profound smile. You would not get to grow old with the man you loved, but you could spend countless years with him, never wondering if he’d get sick without warning, if his heart would stop beating while he slept. 

Sometimes, you got so caught up in the misery of being a vampire, an immortal, that you forgot there was a sublime beauty to it, as well. 

Atsushi took you to his favorite pub, on the other side of town, near the detective agency that he worked at. It was a spot they all frequented after long cases. A respectable cafe by the morning, and a place for the scoundrels of the earth to settle at night. 

Saturdays were always busy, but this night seemed even more so, as you shoved your way into through the swinging, wooden doors, pressing shoulder to shoulder against those in front of you. An overwhelming stench of body odor assaulted your senses, rank and thick as it flooded your nostrils. Under it all, though, with each body stacked against the next, there was the flowery, sweet smell of blood. 

You gripped Atsushi’s hand tightly to resist it. 

The chatter was endless. With your hearing — so much better than any of those around you — you were subjected to half a hundred different conversations, the changes in pitch and tempo like nails to your temple. 

It was difficult to focus, your attention tugged in a thousand different directions. That was, until Atsushi turned around and smiled, that brilliantly beautiful grin akin to the light of a thousand suns. 

Your mouth parted; you’d almost forgotten how pretty he was. 

“This okay?” he asked, hesitant at the tension that grazed your features. “I wasn’t expecting it to be so busy, but if you want to leave—”

You stopped him, tugging him to your side by the lapels of his shirt. Standing taller, you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, fingers twisting into his hair, longer on one side. “I don’t mind.” 

A small little sound left the back of his throat, and his lips curled against your own, as he tugged you to a table. There was a crowd of young men lingering by the bar, and as Atsushi pushed his way past with you in tow, they all stopped their conversation to watch, eyes following your every moment. 

In another life, that would have been your dinner. You would have leaned over the counter, beckoned them with a sultry grin, and taken them home, where Dazai would praise you on another successful hunt. 

You buried the memory, squeezing Atsushi’s hand tighter, and refused to think of ghosts. Especially of those that were still alive. 

The tabletop he decided upon was sticky, but it was one of the only remaining empty ones. A film of wetness had been streaked across it, dripping off the edges of the table. As a contrast to the darkness, a candle burned bright in the center of the table, wax dripping off in thick rivulets. 

Atsushi pulled out a chair for you, dramatically gesturing towards the seat. “If you would, miss,” he said, a shy sort of humor resting at the edge of his gaze. 

“Thank you, kind sir.” You took the seat, indulging him, and removed your gloves to fold onto your lap. 

There was no reason for any attempts at being a proper lady, not in this sort of environment. It wasn’t nearly as seedy as the place you had been meeting Dazai, but there were still corners with secret rendezvous, hushed whispers between business partners over smoky cigarettes. 

“Would you still like a drink?” Atsushi asked, brushing his thumb across your eyebrow. “I know, it’s really only to keep up appearances, but if you’d like one…” 

He seemed so hopeful, eyes glimmering with a reignited thrill. It’d been a long time since either of you had truly committed to an evening out, and even longer since you’d stopped here, where you knew his friends and co-workers often were. 

The taste of alcohol, without being tinged by the sweetness of blood, was quite awful. Still, you accepted. “Of course, honey. I can still enjoy the simple luxury of a little drink.”

You smiled and tilted your head, though you weren’t sure he caught the true meaning of your words.

Atsushi left, heading over to the bar, where a red-headed woman and an older man were working furiously, filling cups as quickly as they were handed them.

The alcohol spilled freely, splashing onto people’s shirts as they skirted around one another, the dark liquid quickly becoming large puddles on the floor. No one seemed any the wiser. 

It made you long for that feeling as a human, when it took just a few sips to get a buzz swirling through your veins. You’d never been good at holding your liquor. That remained true as a vampire, but you couldn’t drain an unsuspecting stranger right outside, when your beloved fiancee was so hopeful of mending the growing cracks in your engagement. 

Atsushi’s conversation did seem to go on with the red-haired woman, who spoke to him in a way that was something between cruel and affectionate. Atsushi only laughed, amused by her dark glare as she pushed two drinks towards him, moving onto the next customer. 

It wasn’t surprising that they knew each other, seemed quite familiar with one another, with as much as Atsushi claimed to come here. Still, there was a feeling that burned under your skin, one that you knew far too well, and hated nonetheless. 

You looked away, hoping that Atsushi wouldn’t see the jealousy in your eyes. That was the last emotion that you were deserving of.

Especially because if you told him the truth, if you even suspected the pretty bartender fancied him, he would only smile, laugh at you with a tint of pink on his cheeks. Atsushi would never look at anyone with longing when he had you. He was loyal, kind and loving, and you believed him when he promised that.

You, on the other hand, were a piece of shit. To put it simply. The same courteousy of loyalty couldn’t be offered to him — you’d already made sure of that. 

Although, when you thought about it deeper, watched her glance back at Atsushi as he came over to you, you realized that it wasn’t his affection you were envious of. 

She simply had something, the one thing, that you didn’t. 

Every woman that crossed Atsushi’s path would never have his love, not with you still in his life, but they could offer him a shot at a normal human existence. They could give him what he deserved: a happy marriage without bloodshed, children if he so desired them. 

They wouldn’t lie to his face about their past, their present, and perhaps even the future that they were already weaving together. 

Humanity was the only thing you had to be envious of. And even though you felt guilty for taking that away from Atsushi, there was also the hint of satisfaction, knowing that no one else would be able to offer him what you could. 

Atsushi handed the drink to you, and you took it with ease, letting your fingers curl around the cup, nails clicking against the handle. Already, Atsushi had taken long sips of his, the liquid dripping, soaking his mouth, almost obscenely. He wiped his hand across his face, letting it wet the back of his palm as well, all while you watched on with amusement. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” you asked, cracking a smile as he leaned back in the chair, raising his glass when someone in the bar burst out into some sort of chant. You’d never heard it before, but Atsushi hummed under his breath, a faraway look in his eyes as he leaned into you. 

“I am,” he said, kissing your temple, before taking another long sip of his drink. “I’ve been so stressed about the case, that I’d forgotten…” Atsushi trailed off, gaze dropped to his half-empty cup before sighing. “Well, I suppose I’ve been forgetting how to live. But, that doesn’t mean much, when we’ll have eternity, does it?” 

Resigned sadness soaked his words as he squeezed your shoulder, and it permeated your short-lived glee. “Atsushi—” you began, shaking your head. “No. You should live every moment like its your last. Especially when you are immortal.” 

His eyebrows pinched, forming a wrinkle between them as he tilted his head towards you. Perhaps, it didn’t make sense to him yet, but it would soon. Atsushi had no idea how difficult having centuries ahead of you could be, how intimidating to realize. He hadn’t seen vampires go mad because of it, throw themselves onto a stake or into the fire because they couldn’t comprehend that sense of time. He hadn’t seen vampires fall so easily to their emotions, because they had been unstable as a human, and that had never faired well without an ending in sight. Some didn’t take well to the blood-drinking, either, and it made them sick, for their minds were too fragile to hold on. 

There were endless reasons not to be a vampire, and you weren’t sure he fully understood that. 

“I don’t understand—” your beloved began, but he didn’t get far, as an unfamiliar presence approached, taking his place at the empty seat of the table. 

“Atsushi,” he said, leaning towards both of you, an elated grin on his face. “Long time, no see. How have you been?” 

You jerked your head towards the third voice, just as Atsushi did, the two of you wearing matching, irritated expressions. It was a man you didn’t recognize, with dark, auburn hair, and a self-satisfied grin. He was on the verge of being drunk, almost stringing his words together, sharp eyes glazed over with intoxication. 

“Tachihara,” Atsushi said, face falling. The smile he wore was so evidently fake, it was probably for the best that the man wasn’t sober. “What are you doing here?” 

There were very few people that Atsushi disliked, very few that he utterly refused to get along with. So it came as a surprise, when his expression coiled up with tension, his words spoken through gritted teeth and harsh lines. 

That was, until you realized what the man in front of you was. “Oh, it’s been years since I’ve been around, and that’s how you greet an old friend?” He sounded hurt, at first, before he laughed loudly, his faux annoyance giving way to amusement. “I shouldn’t be surprised, though. I interrupted you and and this beautiful lady. What is your name, by the way?” Tachihara turned to you, grinning lazily, his dark eyelashes fanning over his cheeks, naturally flirtatious. 

You met his gaze head-on, sitting stiffly in your chair as you smiled, refusing to reach out your hand and shake his. Out of fear that he would feel your cold skin, see the fangs that weren’t even elongated, or sense that your beauty wasn’t quite natural. “I’m Atsushi’s fiancee.” 

Briefly, you reached out the soft caress of compulsion, attempting to weave into his mind, curl your own touch around his memories. But as you lingered there, you were met with a hard block, a gated entry, without a lock or key. 

Your gaze dropped down to his cloak, made of burgundy velvet, stitched with the cross of the vampire hunters over his heart. Then, your eyes drifted over to the golden medallion that hung around his neck. 

Shit. 

Outside of your own kind, there was very little that you knew about magic, or beings that existed apart from mortals. Dazai had let you in on very little, in a promise that ignorance was safer than knowledge. 

What you did know, was that people had been aware of vampires for centuries. You’d been the greatest evil to face humans, for a time, and while your existence faded into legend, and humans did not fear as they once had, there were still precautions. Some were merely rumors; promises that crucifixes and holy symbols would repel you, but didn’t. 

Some were old magic, like the medallion given only to specific ranks of vampire hunters. Most  were centuries old and were, to your knowledge, the only thing that could stop an immortal from controlling the minds of mankind. 

For a moment, you scrambled, knowing that even if there was a way for you to break past the barriers, infiltrate his conscious, you weren’t a strong enough vampire to do that. Perhaps if you were someone like Dazai, who had been alive for nearly three of your lifetimes, but you were something close to a child compared with those that beheld your same gifts. 

You resigned your name to the vampire hunter, hoping that he hadn’t caught the biting tinge of fear at the end of your sentence. Although, it wasn’t your life that you were worried about — vampire hunters were a nuisance, sure, but they were still painfully human. Ones that you could kill. 

Atsushi, on the other hand, could not. Even if you were innocent in the murders that they were investigating, if they found out that Atsushi had been harboring, loving, a vampire for two years, they would certainly execute him on the spot. 

You refused to let it come to that. 

“So, what brings you back here, then?” you asked, closing your hands together on your lap. “If it’s been so long without seeing Atsushi?” With a smile, you laid on the charm, remembering all the practice you’d had through the years, all the men you’d brought to their deaths. Tachihara may have been a sharp hunter with concerning strength for a mortal, but he was still a man. 

He seemed happy to indulge you with flirtations, smiling as he drank another beer and supplied you with all the details of his mission. “My boss sent us over here to help out with the murders happening in this city. They’re certain its a vampire — perhaps a coven, with the frequency.” 

“You’re not convinced?” 

Tachihara shrugged. “Vampires are usually more methodical. Or less obvious. Depends on their age, though.” He seemed to come to himself, blinking, as he glanced between you and Atsushi. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t be telling you all this. Not fit for a lady, and all.” 

“It’s fine,” Atsushi said, even more tense then you were, his back straight like a rod, as he squeezed your hand under the table. “I’ve already told her everything. She’s real smart, helps me out on cases, sometimes.” He swallowed, and though his words were confident, his eyes were not — which worried you. As much as you loved him, adored him, he was a horrendous liar. 

That, of all things, would be what got you into trouble. 

“I see,” Tachihara replied, intrigued. “Well, what do you think, then? I’d hate to be wasting my time here.” 

While you’d wanted at the very least, a moment to think, Atsushi was already spilling out his thoughts, mouth running faster than a race horse. “I wouldn’t be too quick to pin this on the bloodsuckers,” he said, shaking his head voraciously. “I’ve seen murderers with less reason than this, and they is very little evidence to point to it being a vampire, to begin with.” He took a breath, before continuing, quickly averting his eyes away from Tachihara’s scrutinizing gaze. “Only a few bodies were found drained of blood, and many had been mutilated in a very grotesque fashion. Anyone could have done so, couldn’t they?” 

Tachihara’s lips pursed. “I’m not sure—”

“Besides,” Atsushi went on, completing ignoring the fact that his friend had interjected at all. “The killings have stopped. Whoever it was moved on.” A heavy breath left him, at that, the final notice, to convince himself as much as the man who listened on with curiosity.

“Oh no,” Tachihara said, shaking his head as he snapped to attention. “Didn’t you see? They found another body this morning.”

Atsushi paled, the color draining from his face as he slid his eyes across the table from Tachihara. 

 Well. You’d consider that a ridiculously stupid miscalculation on your part. 

“I—” he said, shaking his head, suddenly startled. “Wow. I didn’t know about that.” 

“Hmm.” Tachihara licked his lips, taking the last drops of alcohol from his skin with it. “Slacking on the job, are we?” 

Although it was said as a joke, a slight jab between friends, there was also a hint of criticism there. 

Atsushi had stiffened in his chair, a mix of mortification and uncertainty replacing all other emotions. Those were written out, as plain as day, on his features. There was no room for lying. 

You held your breath, choking on the sound, as you waited for Atsushi’s reaction. His pupils had blown wide, the purple in his irises so deep they were the color of royalty, drowning out the brightness of the golden flecks. He swallowed, jaw clenching tightly as his sights settled on the woman at the bar, before he dragged them right back to Tachihara. 

“I must confess,” he said, with alarming calmness, one that made your hair stand on end. “I’ve had to take many breaks from the case. It’s…” he sighed, shaking his head, genuinely put out by his own ability to stomach the murders. “It’s done a number on my head. They’ve already removed me once from it, shipped me out of the city, for a while.” 

The amusement on Tachihara’s face dissipated, the smile lines smoothing as his grin dropped swiftly. “Oh,” he said, leaning forward, no longer slouching casually in his chair. “I’m sorry, Atsushi. I don’t blame you for needing a break.” 

“I shouldn’t,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “It’s my job, and I feel horrible for needing to take time away for my own sanity, while people are losing their lives.” 

Tachihara nodded, coating his lips with saliva once more. “I understand. But, remember you aren’t alone in this. There are other people working on the case, and the weight of the world doesn’t rest on your shoulders.” He reached over the table, nearly spilling Atsushi’s drink in the process, to squeeze his arm, supportive. “I didn’t mean to ruin your night out. I should’ve saved the work talk for next week.” 

“It’s okay,” Atsushi smiled, tight-lipped. He shrugged off Tachihara’s larger hand, his deep tan skin punctuated by harsh white scars. “I would be curious too, if I were in your position. But, I’m glad you’re here to help, vampire or not.” 

Your fiancé glanced over to you, chest rising and falling with the complex emotions weaving under his skin. “Right, angel?” 

How you hated when he called you that. 

He’d only picked it up recently — since Dazai had found you once again. Atsushi never could’ve known how deeply the term irritated you, how complex the memories that came with it were. Yet, he whispered it with such endearment, such adoration, breathing it on a simple exhale, that you couldn’t urge him away from it. 

You smiled, words coming through sharply gritted teeth. “The faster this all ends, the better.” 

It should’ve ended already, with Dazai gone. Why they had only now sent vampire hunters was beyond you. 

When you returned home, the last thing on your mind was sleep. 

Atsushi slammed the door behind him, a sound that caused you to jump. He was not an angry man, and so rarely let it show, or take it out on you. But, he began pacing the room with fury, his eyes ablaze as he considered the room like it disgusted him. 

“Fuck,” he said, weaving his hand through his silver locks, gripping them tightly. “I’m sorry. I knew they would come eventually, but I didn’t think—” His eyes squeezed together tightly, no longer showing the deep galaxy within them. “I didn’t think it would be so soon. How foolish of me.” 

“I’m the fool. I’ve seen this a thousand times before, and still believed that everything would be fine,” you said, trying to calm him down, as his soles burned holes into the floor of your home. The final murder would be your little secret, but you should’ve known that the vampire hunters would show eventually. Dazai had strategically held them off, but he’d grown sloppy, in his quest to capture your attention. “But we can’t keep this farce up with hunters around, Atsushi. They’ll catch on soon.” 

“How do you know that?” He met your gaze, pained.

You smiled gently, as you eased your hands away from his hair. “The murderer may not be a vampire, but I certainly am. This is what they do, honey. They hunt my kind for a living. They’re skilled, and if they find out you’re defending me…” you trailed off, the words speaking for themselves. “That’s why I think I need to leave. At least, for a while.” 

“No,” Atsushi snapped, his voice breaking at the end of the word. “No. We’ve been apart for so long. We can figure out another way. I don’t want to keep getting separated.” 

You shook your head. “I don’t think we can, this time. It’s too dangerous.” 

“I can keep you safe. It won’t come to that, I won’t let you get hurt.” 

“They’re stronger than you, and they’re not going to let friendships stand in the way of justice. If we aren’t smart about this, then we’ll get ourselves killed.”

“It shouldn’t be like this,” he said, eyeing you, his voice hard. “You’re one of the good ones. It’s not like you’re the one killing people. Right?” 

You knitted your eyebrows together, swallowing. “Of course not,” you said, hoping that it sounding more convincing to his ears than it did your own. You might as well have been driving the knives into everyone’s backs. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I just wonder if you’re certain you don’t know anything about this. You know your kind better than anyone, better than the hunters, even. Are you sure this isn’t a vampire?” 

“I promised you, didn’t I?” Your voice came out hard, indignant. “What? Do you not trust me anymore?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Atsushi snapped. 

A moment of silence came after.

Although you were certain no bitter emotions had taken over your features, something in his face changed as you leaned back and recoiled, drawing away from him. 

Then Atsushi exhaled, all malice draining out of him as he deflated. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I know you didn’t do it, and I know you wouldn’t lie to me. I just wanted to ask again. Make sure. Nothing about this case makes sense to me.” 

“Right. Of course,” you replied. Your voice was chalky. “Well, it’s not a vampire. Even if it was, there isn’t anything I can do.” There was. “Vampires are inherently independent creatures.” Sometimes. “Whoever it was — is, wouldn’t stop killing, just because I asked them to. They’d probably see my socializing with humans, trying to hold onto my humanity, as a weakness.” That part, was honest, at least.

Atsushi deflated. “I didn’t mean to get upset with you.” 

“It’s alright. It’s reasonable to be.”

He nodded; you were both unconvinced, though by which words, it was hard to tell. 

“I think I should leave, Atsushi. Tomorrow. We’ll say I received word that a family of mine is sick, and I need to go take care of them. It’s reasonable enough.” 

“Of course. Of course.” He reached out to you, then, taking you in his arms in the cold room, fingers snaking around your back before pulling you into his chest. “I trust you. When it comes to this world, you know best. I’m willing to do what needs to be done to keep us both safe.” 

You whispered a response, letting your head fall to his collarbone as you inhaled, the alcohol and smoke from the evening a thick cloak on Atsushi’s skin. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this. I wish I could stay here, and we wouldn’t have to worry about the hunters busting through the door unannounced. I wish things were different.” 

The two of you knew what you were really trying to say. Things with Atsushi would be so much easier if you were human. 

“I wouldn’t change anything,” Atsushi said, kissing your forehead, even if you felt like it was a lie. If you were offered a way out of immortality tomorrow, he’d be elated for you to take it. “I love you just the way you are.” 

You smiled, placatingly. “I love you too, Atsushi.” 

He held you, for a few minutes, the two of you beginning to feel the warmth of the sun rising in the horizon at your backs. It wouldn’t be long now — you’d be off to bed, and Atsushi would be off to work without a moment’s rest. Then, you’d be apart again. Again and again and again. 

It seemed like fate was trying to tell you something; you’d continue to ignore her whispers in your ear. 

“Where will you go?” Atsushi finally asked, leading you back into your room, so dark and empty, like a lived-in tomb. 

You took his hand instead, squeezed it tight, and exhaled. “Home.”

PART VII

thank you so much for reading!! pls ignore any spelling errors & i hope my characterization of tachihara was okay :,) reblogs are always appreciated !!

[captainfern]

hi fern! i hope something nice happens to you today! i just wanted to drop this little thought in your askbox.

so i'm quitting smoking, yay! it's hard but i'm so proud of myself. it's been a month since my last cigarette but i still have cravings and i just can't get it out of my head that gaz would be the best at supporting me (why are they always worse after i've eaten?! or i'm tired?!). so i've been sucking on a lot of lollipops and well... obviously my mind drifted to other things i could suck to alleviate my cravings....

(if you're not comfortable sharing this, that's totally fine! i know smoking is gross and no one is comfortable writing about it so feel free to delete this! either way, have a wonderful day!)

congratulations i’m super proud of you !!

gaz is too lol

18+ fem!reader (m!receiving oral bbyyy)

there’s something so erotic about it. about the way he’s looking at you. looking at you with those deep brown eyes, molasses-thick and warm with admiration.

the situation isn’t overtly kinky, or laden with excruciating levels of lustrous allure. it just feels so intimate, so hot and heavy, and he’s barely even touched you.

but that’s what gaz does to you. what he’s always done to you.

when you told him you’d quit smoking, he was so incredibly happy for you (although, conversations of him quitting were whittled down to nothing more than i’m a casual smoker, sweetheart. nothing regular, i promise). you’d then confided in him, a month-or-so in, that you felt like you needed something to… suck on. to chew on. to occupy the parched cavern of your mouth and entertain your restless mind.

like the sweetheart he was, he bought you all kinds of sweets— things to chew on, things to suck on, things to roll around along the ridges of your lower molars. but soon, the cravings went beyond the odd lollipop.

and that’s what led you to this very moment.

gaz’s thumb hooked into the corner of your mouth, gently prying your lips apart as you kneeled in front of him, hands splayed across his strong thighs. he stood, towering over you, unhinging your jaw with the soft, gentle beckon of his thumb. your eyes remained locked on his the entire time, butterflies filling your stomach.

you were completely naked. stripped bare— on your own accord— and situated on your knees, soft carpet beneath you (he wouldn’t let you kneel on the kitchen tiles, where you originally proposed this idea). gaz was dressed almost fully, his toned abdomen covered by his t-shirt. but you could see the prominent V-line, the dips in his muscle, paired with a thin line of hair, right to the base of his hard cock.

the cock which he was slowly feeding into your open mouth. thumb still hooked into the corner of your mouth, gaz held the back of your head with his other hand as he guided his cock past your lips. gently, slowly, inch-by-inch. you watched him, and the way his beautiful face flickered with restrained pleasure.

your tongue instinctively curled a bit to meet the width of him, of the hard length sliding over it. saliva built behind your teeth, your breaths falling in laboured pants as gaz pushed in further and further. further, still, until the tip of his cock nudged the back of your throat, making you gag. he drew back a few centimetres, with the hand on the back of your head petting you fondly.

“my perfect girl…” gaz muttered, slowly pulling out until the flared head of his cock was all that remained inside your mouth. he removed his thumb, instead moving it to rest against the rear of the bed he was leaning against.

you suctioned your lips around the head of his cock, sucking gently and dispersing the saliva. gaz groaned, the hand on your head tightening. he canted his hips forward, shoving his cock back into the tight heat of your mouth. you whined around him, the vibrations hitting him straight-on, forcing a low moan from his chest.

“so perfect,” he whispered, eyelids lowered.

he then let you set the pace. bobbing your head back and forth, you took one of your hands and wrapped it around the base of his cock, coating your palm and fingers in your saliva. you gripped him there, twisting lightly while your mouth suctioned around him, tongue rubbing flat along the vein curled up the underside.

he watched you with those heated brown eyes, long lashes casting shadows across his cheekbones beneath the low light. he continued to pet your head, massaging you, as you took more and more of his cock. his pretty girlfriend, naked and on her knees for him, cock in her mouth. what a sight.

your cheeks were slowly beginning to hurt as you hollowed them, sliding his cock in and out, taking time to jerk him off while you licked around the tip with the point of your tongue. you could taste him— not at all unpleasant and not too salty. it almost tasted good. it suited him.

you slowly took him to the root again, lips brushing along the thatch of thick hair at the base. the leaking tip brushed the back of your throat, and this time you managed to withhold a gag. you closed your eyes momentarily, willing tears away, before starting your rhythm back up again.

gaz moaned at the wet warmth, the tightness of your pretty mouth. god, you were so fucking perfect.

“you like that, baby?” gaz cooed, rubbing the back of your head. “you like keeping that pretty mouth busy, huh? y’like sucking on things, don’t you?”

you did, but not that you could answer anyway. the butterflies in your stomach were going wild, the heat in your core blooming, pulsing in time with the beating of your heart. you imagined that you’d have slick running down your thighs soon.

gaz moaned, tossing his head back. he looked so pretty like this. “yeah, that’s it. suck my cock, sweetheart.”

you wanted him to come in your mouth. you wanted to feel his cock twitch against your tongue, and feel the heat of his seed splash down your throat. or maybe you wanted it to fill the crevices of your mouth, so you could hold it there with a triumphant smile, before swallowing it and showing him your barren tongue. hopefully you’d taste him for days.

like the universe was listening to your innermost thoughts, you felt gaz’s cock twitching against the flat of your tongue. his balls were drawing up tight, low groans filtering from his mouth, breathing turning into panting— desperate, pent-up panting.

“oh god,” he whimpered out, hips bucking. “oh god, oh god— fuck, fuck— baby, holy fuck.”

you kept your pace steady as the hand on the back of your head started to hijack your efforts. your boyfriend fucked himself into you, forcing his cock to the back of your throat again and again, neglecting your breathing as he chased his high. you’d forgive him. hell, you weren’t even mad at him, to be honest.

and he sounded so fucking good. this whole thing was meant to appease you, but now it was starting to feel a whole lot more like you were appeasing him. appeasing a god, clearly.

“oh fuck, m’gonna come, sweetheart. can— oh, fuck— can i come in your mouth?”

you looked up at him with tears blurring your vision and you hummed a yes, unable to nod. the hums were a buzz against the smooth, sensitive ridges of his cock, and he found himself moaning your name in desperation as he came.

it was the first option. your second favourite option of the two, but you weren’t really complaining.

his cum, warm and, well, a lot, emptied down the channel of your throat. you wanted to cough, but the head of his cock pushed it all aside— including your breath— as his cock twitched and jerked against the soft muscle of your tongue, still writhing around him. he moaned your name again. again and again until his cock settled, semi-hard inside your mouth.

he stroked the back of your head, pulling his cock out of your throat but letting it rest between the softness of your lips. he didn’t look like he was going to pull out any time soon. so you swallowed, and attempted to give him a smile.

“beautiful girl,” he said, other hand shifting to cup your cheek, thumb running along your cheekbone, feeling the heat there. “i’m so proud of you.”

[wings-of-ink]

Hello my friends! Just checking in!

Chapter 4 is progressing well. I just realized that it is…a bit over 20k words, making me question where all these words are even coming from (this also explains why my fingers are smoking). The section I have been working on is pretty linear aside from a couple decisions which split your path slightly. Because of this, I am trying to add as much flavor-text as I can slip in (as long as it feels natural). There is another split coming up as well that has more significant consequences, so that will be exciting! I'm currently debating about either dividing this chapter into parts or splitting it into two chapters entirely. I keep feeling like it's going to be too long - but I haven't edited yet, so it may still get trimmed down. I might just have a lot to say in this section since it was one of the very first scenes I envisioned while planning last year.

So, at this moment I am taking a little break from writing and using the time to think about something else. I will drop a poll later about ideas for future IFs that I have been chewing on. I may be able to get your Asks taken care of tomorrow as well. I think I'll also kick back and do some reading this weekend to recharge my batteries. ^_^

If anyone has found some new IFs floating around, let me know (even though I still have a list of updates to read, I can always add new ones to the list)!

Some teasers from chapter 4 to tickle you...