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#but its almost impossible to break free
lovelybluebirdie · 4 months
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Something to care for
Astarion x f!Reader
Summary: Astarion seeks comfort when he is terrified of losing you to his former master.
Word Count: 2,1k
hurt/comfort, angst and fluff
[ AO3 ]
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Fleeting glances across the tavern, jovial laughter followed by a touch to his arm, and Astarion has exactly what he needs. Your trust builds fast over his charming words, so you agree to accompany him to the mansion without doubting his intentions. 
Astarion dissociates, follows his usual routine as he has done for over hundreds of years by now, while you remain blissfully unaware that you are already caught in his trap.
The scene feels painfully familiar, and yet it doesn't at all.
Uneasiness spreads over him. 
No, this doesn't seem right. 
Why are you here?
The next moment you lie on his old master’s bed, your eyes closed and shallow breaths emitting your lungs. A dark silhouette is bending over you, its mouth glued to your neck. 
Cazador.
Panic creeps down Astarion's spine.
No, this isn't right at all.
His thoughts start to race. He needs to free you from this monster's claws - now.
Cazador looks up as his lips form a hideous grin, blood running from his chin and spluttering on your motionless body.
“A very pleasant bouquet you have brought to me, boy. But you know of that already, do you not?”
Astarion freezes.
The malice in his voice shatters his ribs with the blow of an axe.
He wants to scream, to get you away from here, but his body doesn’t respond. 
Suddenly the whole scene shifts and Astarion finds himself with his fangs buried deep inside your neck, warm liquid pouring in his mouth while your hand rests loosely on his nape. 
An unbearable dread rises in him.
He desperately tries to tear himself away, to stop feeding on you, but an invisible force holds him down, leaving it impossible to let go. 
He must be going mad.
“You sought out to drink from thinking creatures, did you not? Go on then, lavish yourself on her blood! Bleed her dry.”
Cazador’s command unleashes like a fist to his skull.
Astarion knows that he is enjoying this, and it makes him sick. 
He concentrates back on you, frantically looking for a way to get you out of this. 
“It's alright, Astarion…” you whisper. “I know this isn’t… you.” You seem on the verge of fainting, the hand that rested in his hair slipping, your pulse weakening.
The fondness in your words almost breaks him.
He wishes to plead, to offer himself - to give Cazador everything he demands, if only he would allow you to leave unharmed, but he can’t speak.
Instead, he feels Cazador’s violent grip push him down, ramming his teeth deeper in your neck.
Astarion’s eyes wet and his body trembles while he’s obliged to swallow more of your blood. The thick liquid spills over his lips onto your neck, drips to your hair and paints the collar of your blouse.
Astarion knows that he’s hurting you, killing you, yet he has no control over his own doing. He can't stop, even if his whole body longs for nothing more than to release you.
His senses start to dull, colourful dots exploding before his eyes, while he’s unable to form a single coherent thought anymore, entirely helpless to this monstrosity he inflicts on you.
“What’s the matter, boy?” his former master taunts with a malignant chuckle and positions himself so that Astarion has to look at him. “Isn’t this what you craved? To be free of me, to do as you please?"
His laugh evolves to a gruesome crescendo, echoing through the dreary halls that Astarion once called his home - mocking him, a punishment for his disobedience.  
Astarion summons his remaining strength to banish Cazador from his mind and fixates back on you. 
He must save you, now, otherwise you will -
*
Astarion's lungs are on fire. His fangs ache, and his chest is bursting.
He grasps his throat and chokes as he remembers the taste of your blood in his mouth. 
Gods, what has he done to you?
He takes a moment to perceive his surroundings.
This is not Cazador’s mansion, he realises, but your shared tent in the camp you made near Rivington.
The essence of his nightmare returns with agony: his fangs piercing your neck, Cazador’s order to bleed you dry, while you were completely defenceless against his torment. The image is almost too much to bear.
With haste, he begins to fumble the woollen fabric of his bedroll in search of your warm body. He has to ensure that you are alive - that he didn’t hurt you.
Then his hand finds your wrist and he stops in his motion. He pushes the fright that shrouds him aside and feels for your pulse, careful not to wake you. There it is - a constant throb at his fingertips. 
Despite the evidence that the violent scene was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, he can’t bring himself to fully accept that there wasn’t an actual threat - that you are safe. Yet he has no desire to worry you with his musings, so he starts to slowly pull his hand away, before he notices that it’s already too late. You sit up beside him, rubbing sleep from your tired eyes. 
You look so adorable that his chest grows tight. 
“Astarion? Are you alright?” Your brow furrows when your gaze meets his, concern lingers in your voice.
Astarion opens his mouth, only to press it shut again as he feels hot tears forming in his eyes. He swallows hard. He wants to reassure you that it’s nothing, to tell you that you should go back to sleep, but the ferocity he committed in his nightmare robs him of any speech. 
You give him an understanding expression and lift your blanket. “Do you want to come over here?”
He nods and shifts towards you.
You wrap your arms around him and pull him into a tight embrace. Astarion sinks his head onto your chest and listens carefully to your heartbeat - to make sure you are truly unscathed. That he didn't kill you, didn't bleed you dry - that he has not become like Cazador.
The pulsing sound flows in a soothing rhythm. 
He closes his eyes and inhales your familiar scent. The weight that is crushing his lungs slowly begins to dissolve. 
You are so warm, he thinks, so comforting, always so affectionate.
“It’s alright,” you breathe and rest your lips at his temple. “He can’t hurt you now.”
There is no need to ask how you know what haunts him, you simply do, and Astarion buries his face deeper in your chest, grasps the fabric of your tunic and lets out a deep sigh. A few silent tears he has tried to hold back spill from his eyes, dampening your clothes.
Your hands draw circles on the small of his back, up to his shoulder blades, until they move to his hair and tenderly stroke along his ears. 
He concentrates on your touch. You are here, with him, unharmed - he didn’t hurt you.
A calmness enfolds and for the first time since he woke he allows himself to relax. 
Astarion suddenly wonders if he ever had something like a home, a real home, somewhere he felt safe - not Cazador’s mansion, the place from his nightmare, where he endured nothing but torture and cruelty.
Something he could choose for himself - willingly. Not something he was forced to, but something he wanted.
For centuries he was used to the pain he suffered under Cazador’s rule, but you've proven how different his life can be. Through the time he spends with you, he's learned that he is valued as a person. You make him feel seen - show him compassion and patience, despite him missing the words at times. 
You give him honest, loving affection, without any vile intent or in expectation of getting something in return. 
You are the only one who is like that. Who genuinely cares for him, who loves him. No one was ever kind to him, only you. No one has a heart like that.
Maybe a home isn’t a place, he thinks, but a person. 
He feels your fingers twisting gently around his curls, while he listens to the sound of your beating heart, and wishes to never let go of you. 
But there is still Cazador and the Rite of Profane Ascension to overcome, and his mansion is barely a tenday away from now. 
Astarion wants to shove the thought aside, but knows he can’t. Not when there is so much at stake - when you give him so much to care for. 
He envisions the ancient ritual Cazador has planned. 
If he was to complete the rite himself, would he become even more powerful than his old master? Would this newfound power offer you protection - keep both of you safe? 
But what if you came to harm once you entered his residence? Hells, what if it would be his fault?
The fear of losing you clings its relentless hooks back to his core.
Astarion sinks deeper into your arms and sighs.
No. He cannot lose you - not to the Absolute, not to Cazador or any other madness you have to encounter along your way.
His shoulders tense, leading you to squeeze them fondly.
“He won’t win, Astarion,'' you vow with the determination that Astarion knows too well by now. “We will beat him.”
At first he wants to scold you, point out how naive you were to think it would be an easy task to confront his past tormentor, but instead he pauses to consider. 
He remembers the foes you've come across on your journey. There have been gruesome, vigorous creatures among them, and yet you were able to vanquish them in the end.
Have you gathered enough strength to destroy a powerful enemy like Cazador, though?
For a second, Cazador’s liveless body appears in front of Astarion’s inner eye. 
Maybe, there was a real chance…
After all, to ensure that both of you will be safe - truly safe - Cazador must be ended, one way or another. 
“Is that so?” Astarion clears his throat and frowns. “Well, when you sound so resolute I find myself actually imagining us succeeding.”
Your features soften as you lean forward and put a kiss to his brow.
“I know we will,” you reply confidently. “Besides, for some reason I was declared the leader of our little group, so I'd suggest you better put some trust in my word.”
“I’m afraid being the leader of this group full of weirdos is hardly something to be proud of, love,” Astarion murmurs against your neck.
“That’s rich, coming from the weirdest of the bunch,” you tease as you tousle through his curls. “You’re a rogue who’s terrified of clowns - shall I go on?” 
Astarion snorts at your remark. “I'm not terrified of them!” he protests with a pout. “It's just.. They make me uneasy, alright? And they're not original - or funny. Honestly, I’d rather witness a goblin mating ritual than any of those wretched clown shows again.”
He removes your hand from his hair to intertwine your fingers with his. Then he recalls the image of the clown you visited at the circus the other day and his face turns into a grimace.
“Keep telling yourself that, but I know for a fact that you were absolutely petrified the moment you saw Dribbles.”
“That wasn’t even a regular clown - that beast was also a shapeshifter!” Astarion exclaims in feigned bewilderment.
You raise an eyebrow and wait for a moment, leaving Astarion curious, until you pin him down to tickle him all over.
“Stop it, you cheeky thing!” Astarion presses between his laughs while he tries to shelter his most sensitive parts from your ruthless fingers.
When he eventually manages to roll on top of you and grab your wrists, you look at him lovingly and catch your breath. He feels the remaining knots in his chest come loose.
Then your face turns serious again. “I promise you, we will beat him.”
“Stubborn as ever,” Astarion states and clicks his tongue, before his lips curl up to a genuine smile. “But perhaps I’ll remind you of that promise when the time comes.”
“By all means, I hope you do,” you assure and return his smile, your thumb softly brushing his cheek. 
You have a rare talent to relieve the tension, he notices. To make him feel light - to make him laugh even, a real, honest laugh, despite the horrors that linger on his mind of late. 
Astarion kisses the tip of your nose and lifts from your chest, resting his body against your back and draws you in a close embrace. Then he buries his face in your hair and presses a kiss to your neck, relishing your pleasant warmth. 
A sudden fire rises inside him.
The thought of facing Cazador remains scary, terrifying even, but somehow with you, he senses there is a viable chance to defeat him at last.
You give him something to care for, and he will do everything in his might to protect you - both of you, his home.
He won’t lose you, and he won’t lose this.
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natlovesls2 · 3 months
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Hand Warmers
Lando x Fem!Reader
*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: swearing, mentions of boobs and touching them, super short, no use of y/n, I'm American (I think that should be a warning 🤷‍♀️ ), images used are not mine as are from pinterest, possible grammatical errors (its late and I have brain rot from little sleep)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 0.6k
*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: its cold and Landos hands need to be warmed
.ೃ࿐request: Can you do a lando x reader
where reader doesn’t want to let go of his hand but she need to open something with both (or whatever you can think of) and she put his hand on top of her boob and something like that ??
Please if you have the time
*ੈ✩‧₊˚Note: Feel free to let me know if something is wrong or weird. Also feel free to request something
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˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘
Lando had been holding your hand hostage the whole day, refusing to let go despite the inconvenience. As the day progressed, his hold on your hand tightened. It was impossible to escape his hold, even as you ate your lunch, having to beg to be let go to use the bathroom. His only excuse was the freezing temperature, claiming that your hands were warmer than his and you had to help him warm up.
⊹˚₊‧─────────‧₊˚⊹˚₊‧─────────‧₊˚⊹
The cold winter weather had taken over your apartment despite having closed the door immediately after waking in. It was more frigid than the average year, and the abundance of layers did nothing to keep you warm as you lay on the couch cuddled with your boyfriend. “I think we should turn the heater on.”
“I don’t want to get up; this is comfortable, plus your hands are warm,” Lando grumbled into the side of your neck, pulling you closer to himself to prevent you from leaving. 
“Don’t."
“What? I’m not doing anything. We can warm each other up. I don’t want to let you go,” his hold on your hands tightened, placing a few kisses on your neck, snuggling closer to you.
While Lando had always been clingy, more so during the cold winter days, this was a new extreme. His cold hands firmly gripped your own, a continued desperate attempt to keep you from leaving his side. "I promise to come back once the heater is turned on."
"Promise?"
"Pinky promise," you reassure him, feeling his grip loosen, and finally, you break free. You could feel his eyes on you, closely watching as you walked to the heater and turned it on. He was skeptical about the promise you had made. The way his eyes followed your every move proved that. 
"You're taking too long," he complained, voice whiny as he sat up in his spot, grabby hands reaching out in your direction. The slower you walked back to him, the more childlike he became. His pout only increased as he realized you were purposefully taking your time.
"You're being mean," he continued to whine, only stopping when you finally sat next to him again, hands immediately grabbing your own. He briefly let go of your hand to turn on the television, quickly grabbing and kissing them. 
"Don't you think you've held my hand enough?"
"No, I think I've held your hand for too little," he says, slightly pouting again, leaning forward to press a light kiss to your lips. This was always his tactic for getting what he wanted. The constant pouting and occasional kisses were well-known to you. It was almost expected from him, especially when things weren't going exactly the way he wanted them to. 
"Let go, Lando," you said, refusing to fall victim to his ploy– knowing that if you allowed him to get away with this, he would only use it against you. 
"Noooo," he said, voice high and whiny, squeezing your hand tighter, peppering your face with kisses, gently stroking your hands. 
"It's getting warmer in here," you struggle against him, letting out a sigh of relief as he finally lets go of your hands. This was a victory in your eyes, though you knew it would be a short-lived victory– Lando being a very persistent person. 
"I'm still cold," he says after a few minutes, resting his hand on your waist. 
“You’re annoying,” you say, moving his hands under your shirt and placing them on your breasts, shivering at the freezing touch, “You're fucking freezing.”
“Yeah, but I'm definitely getting warmer,” he gently squeezes your boobs, stealing their warmth for himself. 
"At my expense," you say, your body beginning to relax as Lando's hands warmed themselves between your breasts and bra. 
"You're the one who offered," he continues to softly but firmly massage and squeeze them, "I think these might be the best hand warmers."
˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ ✧ ˚ ༘
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pucksandpower · 2 months
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Smile! You’re on Camera
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: in which your inability to stay away from Lando means that viewers of your boyfriend’s stream get a free show
Warnings: 18+ content, accidental exhibitionism
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You quietly open the door to Lando’s gaming room, the glare of his monitors momentarily blinding you as you step inside. Lando doesn’t notice you at first, his eyes glued to the screen as his fingers fly over his keyboard, immersed in an intense game of Fortnite.
“Hey babe,” you say softly, not wanting to startle him mid-game.
Lando jumps a bit in his seat, glancing over his shoulder to see you standing there, your hair slightly disheveled from sleep.
“Oh hey, bunny,” Lando says, flashing you a quick smile before turning back to his game. “Just give me a few more minutes to finish this round.”
You nod understandingly and walk over to him, leaning down to give him a kiss on the cheek. As you pull away, you spot the livestream chat flying by on the other monitor, viewers eagerly commenting about getting a glimpse of Lando’s girlfriend.
“You’re streaming right now?” You ask with amusement.
“Yeah, been going for a couple hours,” Lando replies, focused on the game. “I woke up early and didn’t want to wake you by coming back to bed.”
You settle down on the arm of his chair, looping one arm loosely around his shoulders as you watch him play.
You nuzzle into his neck, lips pursed to place featherlight kisses along his jawline. The chair tilts back slightly from your shift in position. Lando sucks in a sharp breath, fingers fumbling over the keys. On screen, his character takes a hit.
Lando just shakes his head, trying to concentrate as he fights with an opponent. You continue playing with his hair, leaning in further until your face is right next to his.
“Y/N ...” Lando says in a warning tone, though you hear the smile in his voice.
“Hmm?” You murmur, sucking your mark above his collarbone as your hand drifts down to his chest.
“I’m trying to win here,” Lando protests half-heartedly.
“Mmhmm ...” you hum against his skin, nipping lightly at his jaw as your fingers deftly undo the top buttons of his shirt.
“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Lando protests half-heartedly. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
You glance pointedly at the screen. “It can wait.”
Lando looks back at you, eyes darkening. For a moment you think he’ll give in. But then he turns back to the game, hand coming up to adjust his headset.
“Just hang on a minute, bunny. I’m almost done.”
You huff, sitting back. The negligee rides up your thighs. Lando’s eyes dart down before focusing ahead again.
Fine then. If he won’t pay attention to you, you’ll just have to make it impossible to ignore you.
You shift again, this time straddling him completely. The chair creaks louder. You settle against him, arms coming up around his neck. Your lips find his earlobe, teeth grazing the sensitive skin.
Lando inhales sharply. “Bunny ...” he says warningly.
“Hmm?” You hum, the picture of innocence even as your mouth continues its exploration of his neck.
Lando squirms beneath you. “The stream-”
“Forget the stream.” Your hands slip lower, dancing along the waistband of his joggers. Lando chokes back a groan. “Or they’re about to get one hell of a show.”
“Now you’ve done it,” he growls, his mouth finding yours in a heated kiss.
You melt against him, your fingers tangling in his curls as the kiss deepens. Lando’s hands run up and down your back, slipping under your nightgown to caress your skin.
You break apart breathlessly, resting your forehead against his. “I missed you this morning. The bed was cold without you to keep me warm,” you whisper.
Lando’s expression softens. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I just got caught up with the stream and time got away from me.”
You smile understandingly, gently caressing his face. “It’s okay, I know how it is. I just needed my daily dose of Lando.”
Lando chuckles softly. “I’m all yours now, bunny.”
You crush your lips to his. Lando responds immediately, the game forgotten. His hands grip your hips, pulling you tighter against him. Your tongue slips past his parted lips, deepening the kiss.
You give a satisfied hum, rolling your hips experimentally. He’s already hard beneath you. The chair creaks dangerously from your combined moving weight.
Lando pulls back with a gasp. “Wait, the stream-”
You silence him with another searing kiss. “Don’t care.”
Lando gives in with a groan, his mouth moving feverishly against yours. His hands slip back under your negligee, skimming up your bare thighs. You shiver as his calloused fingers explore higher, teasing along the edge of your underwear.
You nibble at his lower lip, reveling in the throaty sound it elicits. His hands grip your backside, guiding your hips as you rock together. The chair jerks and shifts beneath you.
In the background, tinny gunshots and explosions can be heard from the abandoned game. The chat is going wild, viewers trying to figure out what is happening.
Lando’s mouth trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. His stubble scratches deliciously against your sensitive skin. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” He mumbles against your collarbone.
“Mmm, mission accomplished then.” You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face back up to meet your lips.
Without warning, Lando stands, hooking your legs around his waist. You cling to him with a surprised squeak. Giggling, you reclaim his mouth.
Lando stumbles forward until your back hits the wall. You gasp as the cool surface meets your heated skin. Lando presses you harder against it, deepening the kiss until you’re dizzy and breathless.
His hands ruck the negligee up higher, moving it out of his way. Eyes locked with yours, he slips a hand beneath the lace edge of your panties, fingers exploring-
“Lando!” You gasp, head falling back against the wall.
He swallows your whimpers with another kiss. His fingers set a steady rhythm that has your toes curling in pleasure. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, short nails digging into his skin.
“Yes, Lando, please,” you beg shamelessly.
With a growl, Lando spins you both around and deposits you onto the edge of his desk. Gaming equipment clatters to the floor. The abandoned headphones swing haphazardly from the monitor.
Lando stands between your legs, hands pushing up your nightgown until it’s bunched around your waist. His eyes drink you in.
“Have I mentioned how fucking gorgeous you are?” He rasps. His hands smooth reverently over your exposed skin.
You loop your arms lazily around his neck with a hum of agreement. “You might have said it once or twice.”
Lando’s eyes sparkle. “Let me remind you again.”
He kisses his way down your neck, over the swells of your breasts, along your stomach. Your breathing turns shallow, hands coming up to tangle in his hair.
Lando pauses, fingers curling under the delicate waistband of your underwear. He glances up in question.
“Please,” you whisper. That’s all the permission he needs.
In one smooth motion he tugs them down your legs, letting them fall forgotten to the floor. Then his mouth is on you, hot and eager. Your head falls back, eyes slipping shut.
It isn’t long before you’re squirming and gasping beneath his ministrations. The edge of the desk digs into your lower back but you hardly notice. Your focus narrows to the feel of his tongue teasing that sensitive bundle of nerves, stoking higher and higher until-
“Lando!” You cry out as the pleasure crests and breaks over you. Your legs tremble, hips lifting off the desk.
Lando works you through it, drawing out every ounce of bliss until you slump back, spent and panting. He presses a final kiss to your inner thigh before rising up to claim your lips.
You can taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands slip under his shirt, nails raking over the hard muscles of his back. Lando hisses against your lips.
“This needs to come off. Now,” you demand, plucking at his clothes.
Lando happily obliges. He makes quick work of the buttons before shrugging the shirt off. Next come the joggers and briefs in one go. Then he’s gloriously bare before you.
You spread your legs wider in invitation. Lando steps between them, gripping your hips and tugging you forward until you’re poised right at the edge of the desk. He braces one hand by your head, the other angling himself at your entrance.
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he says seriously. You smile, touched by his concern even in the midst of passion.
“I trust you.”
The words are barely out before he’s pushing inside. You both groan in unison at the feeling. He stills once fully seated, giving you a moment to adjust.
Then he draws back slowly before snapping his hips forward. You cry out, fingernails scraping at his back. Lando sets a steady pace, each powerful thrust punching the air from your lungs.
The desk rocks and squeaks beneath you. Various items cluttering its surface go tumbling to the floor. You vaguely register the background noise of video game gunfire and explosions still coming from the abandoned stream.
None of that matters right now. The only thing that exists is Lando above you, surrounding you, filling you so exquisitely.
You cling to Lando, gasping his name with each deep thrust. The desk continues protesting beneath you, edging closer to the monitors with every rock of your entangled bodies.
Lando’s forehead presses to yours, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “You feel so good, bunny,” he grits out.
You slide a hand into his hair, guiding his lips back to yours. He kisses you messily, all tongue and clashing teeth.
You can feel your pleasure mounting again with each drag of his hips. His fingers slip between your bodies, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. He rubs tight, agonizing circles in time with his powerful strokes.
“Oh god, Lando, just like that,” you whimper, teetering right at the precipice.
With a few more well-aimed thrusts, you tumble over the edge again, vision whiting out. Your pleasured cries echo through the room.
Lando groans as you clench around him. His rhythm stutters and then he’s following after you, warmth flooding your core.
For a long moment, the only sound is your combined heavy breathing. Lando collapses against you, face pressed into the crook of your neck. You run a hand lazily through his hair, down his back. Your legs are still locked loosely around his waist.
Finally Lando stirs, lifting his head to smile softly at you. “You drive me crazy but god, I love you.”
You grin, pecking his lips. “I love you too.”
With a groan, Lando carefully pulls out and takes a step back. He helps you sit up from the desk. Your muscles pleasantly ache and wobble like jelly.
And that’s when you notice the abandoned game still on screen, the chat scrolling wildly.
“Oh my god, the stream!” You gasp, smacking Lando’s arm. “It’s still on!”
Lando’s eyes go wide. “Shit!” He scrambles for the mouse, finally clicking the end stream button. The game and camera view disappear from the monitor, replaced by Twitch’s home screen.
Lando turns back to you with an embarrassed chuckle. “Well, that’s probably fifteen thousand people who just got more than they bargained for. And god knows how many more hopped on the stream when news got out of what we were doing.”
You dissolve into giggles, tugging Lando back into your arms. “Think we just made their day,” you say with a wink.
Lando smiles and kisses you sweetly. “You definitely made mine.”
***
Lando fidgets in his seat, thumb tracing anxious circles over your knuckles. You’re crammed into a conference room at the McLaren Technology Centre, facing a panel of stern faces.
At the head of the table sits Zak Brown, face like a disappointed father. To his right is Andrea Stella, lips pressed in a tight line. Flanking them are various PR reps, scribbling furious notes about damage control.
“This was incredibly irresponsible,” Zak begins gravely. “Your actions on the livestream could have had serious repercussions for yourself and the team.”
Lando hangs his head. “I know. I’m sorry, I got ... distracted.” At this, his thumb stills its movements, giving your hand a little squeeze.
You bite back a smile, remembering exactly how you thoroughly distracted him not even 24 hours ago.
“You’re lucky we were able to get your streaming ban overturned,” Andrea adds severely. “We made sure to emphasize that it was an accident but you’re on thin ice here. This can’t happen again.”
Lando nods, the picture of remorse. But you can see the corner of his mouth twitching as he fights back a grin.
“Are we clear?” Zak presses. “No more surprises on stream?”
You lean in close to Lando’s ear while the bosses stare him down. “No promises,” you whisper mischievously.
Lando’s face splits into a cheeky smirk. “No promises,” he echoes.
The PR team bursts into a frenzy, voicing their horror at his response. But Zak hides his own laugh while Andrea just shakes his head resignedly.
“You’re playing with fire,“ Zak says, but there’s humor glinting in his eyes now.
Lando shrugs, unrepentant. His thumb resumes its distracted movements over your hand under the table. “What can I say? I like to live dangerously.”
The bosses share a look, accepting that this is the best they’ll get from Lando today. The meeting wraps up quickly after that.
As you exit the building hand in hand, Lando pauses, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“You know, I never properly thanked you for that distraction yesterday,” he says lowly, backing you against the wall.
You bite your lip coyly. “Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?”
Lando’s eyes darken as he braces his hands on either side of your head. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he murmurs before capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
You melt against him, previous scolding already forgotten. His body presses flush to yours, kiss growing more passionate by the second.
After a long moment, you break apart breathless. Looking thoroughly mussed, Lando rests his forehead against yours.
“What do you say we get out of here and continue this at home?” He suggests, voice gravelly.
You grin, taking his hand to lead him eagerly to the car.
“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” you tease.
Lando chuckles, pinching your backside playfully. “Oh trust me, bunny, by the time I’m through with you, you’ll have at least ten more reasons why.”
“Let’s just make sure the camera is actually off this time,” you laugh. “We can save the encore for after you get your first win.”
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flrlgreen · 2 months
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taboo (toji fushiguro x reader) + twt prn link
a/n: i'm finally back and i'm here to stay! i was taking a much-needed break but now that i'm back requests are open and i'll be fulfilling requests that i've already received. as always, thank you for all of the support! (this isn't realistic i almost passed out when i lost my virginity LMAO)
MINORS DNI
content warnings: LEGAL AGE GAP, reader is in college and toji is in his 40s, unprotected sex, toji is manipulative and shitty, dub con, loss of virginity, vaginal sex, toji says mama, baby girl, good girl, baby, etc, talks of breeding and marriage.
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Spending time with your best friend’s dad Toji. At first. Seems innocent enough and there’s no reason to think anything suspicious was going on. Of course, if you ignore the fact that he practically undresses you with his eyes and looks at your soft tits and ass when he thinks you’re not looking.
Tonight was the breaking point. The moment he saw you in the living room watching a movie with your now-sleeping best friend in those tight shorts he loved so much he knew he had to have you. Tonight.
There was a lot of suggestive flirting and before you knew it one thing led to another and you were in the middle of Toji’s big and soft bed with Toji on top of you.
“Been wanting you for so long you have no fuckin’ idea.” He says while licking a long stripe up your neck. A small whine escapes your lips. It goes to his leaking cock that’s now uncomfortably straining against his pajama pants.
“T-Toji wait.” You say nervously. “Hm?” He hums and pulls away from your neck and gives you a look full of concern. “I-I’m a virgin.” You stutter nervously and await his response. His gaze softens when he hears that you’re a virgin. “Aw, ‘s okay Sweetheart. I’ll be gentle and take care of you, ‘kay?” He gives your forehead a tender kiss before putting his forehead against yours and making direct eye contact. “O-okay, I trust you.” You feel like your face is on fire. Toji smiles before leaning in and pressing his scarred lips on yours.
It feels natural to kiss him back. It feels so right. His lips were impossibly smooth and tasted so good, it made you crave more of him. His strong calloused hand played with the hem of your top before it found its way up your tank top. a small mewl left your lips, but he couldn’t help himself. He just wanted to feel you all over. He had been waiting for this exact moment since he laid his eyes on you after all. “Shhhh~ It’s okay Baby lemme take care of you.” He whispers into the kiss. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”
You knew Toji had a lot of experience with women and he sure as hell knew how to please one. Admittedly, you were a tad nervous but Toji was probably the perfect candidate for taking your virginity. The older man’s large hand found the soft flesh of your breast and your hard nub. “Hmmph! T-Toji!” You cry out and pull away from the kiss. “You’re so sensitive, we need to be quiet, we don't want to wake her, do we Baby Girl?” He whispers and uses his free hand to cover your mouth while kneading the soft flesh of your breasts with the other. You nod and hold back your moans while he begins to rub the sensitive bud. “I need to see these fucking tits.” He huffs.
The hands that were just massaging your breasts and covering your mouth are now at the neckline of your tank top. He’s so desperate to finally see your pretty tits after all this time that his strong hands rip the thin material of your tank top with no struggle. “‘m sorry Baby I had to.” A whistle leaves his lips when he sees your tits on full display for him. “Mmm, such pretty little tits Mama~” Your face turns a shade of bright red when you feel his sharp lustful gaze on your exposed chest.
“Can I Baby?” He licks his lips and looks at you for approval. “Mhm.” You were so shy and it was making Toji’s cock ache. He licks his lips before he lowers himself and leans in. The tip of his tongue nips your hardened nipple. “Fuck!” His mouth leaves your nipple, “Feels so good doesn’t it?” All you can do is whimper while his whole undivided attention is on your tits.
You can’t stop the moans that escape your sinful mouth. His movements switch between suckling on your hardened nipples and squishing your tits together and stuffing his face between them.
“‘M so obsessed with your tits. Even better than I imagined.” He squishes your soft tits together while his green eyes look up at yours. “No one else can touch these tits. Mine.” Toji leaves a soft bite on your right tit before his hand travels lower.
“Can I touch you down here, Sweetheart? I’ll make it feel so good.” He toys with the waistband of your tight shorts. “I bet your little virgin pussy is the sweetest.” Your legs clench when the words leave his lips. “I’m a little scared.” “There’s no need to be. You know I wouldn’t hurt you right, Doll?” The fingers that were toying with the waistband of your shorts were pulling them lower and lower. “I know I can make you feel so good. Just let me ‘kay?” “B-but!” Your shorts and panties are pulled down in one swift motion before you can even retort. Your soft cunt gets exposed.
The man between your legs licks his lips when he sees your soft virgin cunt. Your hand immediately goes down to cover your pussy which Toji wasn’t a fan of. He grabbed your small and weak hand and moved it away. “Let me see.” He demands while lifting your legs so he can see your puffy pussy. “Fuckk- Such a pretty little cunt. All for me too, no one else is allowed to touch you like this Baby.” “This is so embarrassing,” Two hands cover your face while Toji takes in the view of your body completely exposed to him now.
“Don’t be so shy Sweetie, you’re so fucking delicious.” He bites his lip and looks at your glistening folds.
He can’t help it, he wants to touch you now. His pointer finger dips between your slick folds and grazes your clit. “A-ah! Be gentle, pretty please.” Toji can’t help himself. All of your whimpers and mewls make him want to ravish you more and more. His cock needs to feel your tight pussy and needs to breed you full of his cum. He runs his finger up and down your folds.
He uses the fact that you’ve never felt anything like this before to his advantage. He frees his weeping cock of the restraint of his pajamas and damp boxers while you were a sensitive moaning mess from just his finger. He almost feels bad.
His cock is thick and long and he knows that it’s hard to take. Even for the more experienced women that he had slept with. The cold air hit his cock and he couldn’t hold back his soft moan. He also couldn’t help pressing the huge tip on your wet folds. “H-Huh? Is that?” You’re a bit confused, but then the realization hits and you realize what’s touching your wet cunt. “Mhmmm, it’s big isn’t it?” A shit-eating grin is plastered all over his face while he grips the base and rubs it between your wet folds, earning a moan from you. You uncover your face and take a look at Toji’s leaking cock on your pussy. “It’s so big, will it fit?” “Of course it will. If not. I’ll make it fit.” The tip of his cock poked at the small opening.
“Be good for me, yeah?” Before you can even process what’s happening you feel the tip of his thick cock begin to sink into your heat. “I-“ He didn’t even give you the chance to even adjust before his huge cock felt like it was ripping you in half. “Toji! Hurts. It’s not gonna fit!” You practically yell. “That’s only the tip Baby. Be a good girl and be quiet for me.” His tone is now low and almost scary. “Hurts so bad,” Tears begin to prick your eyes while Toji’s thick cock bullies its way into your tight virgin cunt.
“There we go-“ He groans when your pussy finally stretches around the thick length. “Wasn’t too bad was it?” His tone was almost condescending. The stretch was some of the worst pain you had ever felt, you almost regretted losing your virginity to someone that was so. Well endowed. Not that you could have possibly known that. “Hurts so badddd-“ You whine when you feel his coarse pubic hair against your bare pussy.
“Don’t be such a whiny baby,” He gives your clit a harsh slap making you yelp. “I’m sorry. Ah!” The feeling of being full is so unfamiliar, but it’s something you can get used to. His cock was so thick, but it filled you to the brim as bad as the stretch felt you knew it would be temporary. “I’ve never had pussy this tight. I should have fucked you a long time ago.”
When he thinks he’s waited enough time he begins to move his hips. “Your pussy is sucking me in. So perverted.” He bites his lip while he tries to savor the feeling of your tightness.
“T-Toji- Need more~” The pain had subsided and waves of pleasure had begun to wash over your body little by little.
“Do you? Such a needy girl.” He presses your plush thighs together. “I’ll give you more, dirty girl.” Toji wants to make you see stars and make sure you never forget this exact moment. As long as he can leave you a begging and whimpering mess he knows he’s done his job.
His hips slam into you over and over again. His balls hit the fat of your ass whenever he sped up. “I love my sweet little Baby. You’re so good and obedient. You belong to me now.” You could tell by his higher tone that he was enjoying this a little too much and getting carried away with such possessive language.
“You let me in raw, what a dirty girl. I need to breed you and make you a mommy.” He’s getting close and you could tell. “You’d like that, I know you would. Being my little pregnant wife.” His fingernails were digging into your soft thighs while he slams in and out.
“The way you’ve looked at me, I know you want this too.” “Breed me Toji,” You don’t need to tell him twice.
“You’re something else- Oh my god- I can’t hold back.” He groans before he feels pleasure wash over his muscular body.
“My god. I came so much so fast.” He sighs before pulling his softening cock out of your hole.
He watches as his warm seed spills out of your abused cunt. “You old perv, did you actually cum inside?” Silence.
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taexoxosgf · 5 months
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ACROSS THE ROOM
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PAIRING idol!mark lee x idol fem!reader
WORDS 6.4k
SYNOPSIS You were just so beautiful.  The type of beauty that seemed unattainable.  The type of visual Mark would never approach because he concluded that there are already a million people at your feet. 
WARNINGS both are hot (yes, this needs a warning), fluff if you squint (rlly hard), smut, vaginal fingering, oral sex (male & fem receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, multiple orgasms, missionary, doggy, slight hair pulling
NOTES repost. my old account is gone because i’m the dumbest bitch on earth.
February.
It had been two years since your group debuted.  The award show season had just concluded and one idol group would host a party to celebrate all the hard work throughout the year.  
You practically lived at the company at this point.  Eating, sleeping, and spending all your breaks there.  SM Entertainment has strict schedules regarding breaks and recovery time which has you constantly feeling as if you’re doing one thing after another.  
Idols would rarely have any time for themselves or to let loose.  Between the busy schedules and performances, there was scarcely any time for family or friends. 
It’s only been two years, and you applaud other groups in the same company who have been slaving away for the past few years.  But that was the price for fame and riches.  Maybe it is worth it to some people.  It was for you.
The art of music and dance was all you loved since you were a little girl.  Performing for your family or school talent shows, your love for music never fizzled out as it did with some individuals.  It could happen in the future, you think.  You’re still early in your career, so you hope to become more optimistic; content with what you have. 
This year, the group that was hosts is NCT. Groups from big companies such as  HYBE, JYP, YG, etc. were in attendance.  Since it was a rare occurrence, the boys split the cost of the mansion. It was such a brilliant idea to do this, you thought. There were so many of them, and it probably didn’t even make a dent in their bank accounts.  It was a small price to pay so idols could freely interact without the pressure of cameras, and old friends could reunite.  
Even though your group was in the same company as many of the artists, it was difficult to have time for conversations due to busy schedules and different practice areas. And it was almost impossible to run into each other at the company due to its vast size. The possibility, if you could guess, would be about five percent.  If artists of the same company rarely saw each other, imagine how difficult it would be for artists from different companies to be companions or friends.  
It was easier to become acquaintances to friends if two idol groups had overlapping comebacks.  Music Bank, Show Champion, M! Countdown, etc. gave a lot of free time in between to hop over to different waiting rooms to converse with your colleagues. Your group was especially close with G-idle, showcasing false surprises every time your comebacks would be in the same time frame. 
Your close friend, Soyeon, stands beside you, her right hand holding a red solo cup.  
“So you never hang out with guys, and you haven’t fucked a guy since last year?” 
“Nope, I don’t intend to tonight. And you know how hard it is to hang out with idols of the opposite gender. ”
Her hands soothingly rub against the sides of your arms. “No, no, no. I’m not having any of that tonight. When do we get a chance to roam free? No judgment, but this dry spell is getting out of hand.”
You scoff at your friend before continuing, “Unnie, these are basically our coworkers, I don’t know.”  
She rolls her eyes at you before standing in front of you, face-to-face, “Oh come on, don’t be a buzzkill babe.  So you’re telling me you don’t think anyone is attractive in this house full of hot people?” 
Her question causes you to scan around the room and outside the backyard.  Your eyes halt for a split second, but continue scanning around, pretending it never happened.  
“Oh, I saw that,” she points at you.  “There is a guy you wanna fuck!” 
Throwing your arms down in a huff of disapproval, you’re about to give in to Soyeon’s frenzy.  “Girl, could you be any fucking louder?” 
“You better tell me now, I caught you bitch,” she playfully slaps your arm.  
You bite your lip slightly, contemplating revealing who it is.  Looking up at her, she’s staring at you with anticipation. Her eyes grow wider by the second and you’re not surprised when you’re giving into her puppy dog eyes.  
Your hands fall on her shoulders as you close in on the space between the two of you. “Mark,” you whisper.
“Oh my god!” 
You wince. 
“I fucking knew it! I always thought you guys would look hot together.” 
“What? You thought about this before?” 
“Maybe. But that’s not the point.  I swear I saw him eye you, and only you when you guys got here!” she’s already jumping and pushing you to the backyard before you can get another word out.  
You try your fucking hardest to push back against her, but it’s no use.  Her drunk ass is already overpowering you.  
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Mark is beside the pool playing with some of his members and others from different groups.  Tossing the ping-pong, the millisecond has him hoping it can make it into the red cup charged with alcohol.  
“Fuck,” his failure causes him to throw his head back. 
“You fucking suck, I’m three cups from winning bitch!” Yeonjun yells from across the foldable table.  
His success in the third remaining cup has him rejoicing, and he daps up his teammates.  
“Now give the ball to Sunwoo.  He’ll land it at the house next door,” Mark retorts. 
“Aw, you’re about to lose, so you’re talking out of your ass.” 
“You’re so drunk, you know that?” Mark laughs, ignoring his friends' behavior.   He’s stepping away to let the following person use their turn. 
He’s looking around at all the people at the house.  This was the one night of the year he looked forward to.  Just friends having fun and letting loose, no cameras, no one to judge or inspect his every move or facial expressions.  
He spots you and Soyeon against the glass sliding doors.  You look so fucking hot.  Your top accentuated the curve of your waist so well, and he noticed the mini skirt on your body rides up a little more every time he steals a glance at you.  The top you wore showed the perfect amount of cleavage and your perky breasts are on display for everyone to see.  He wants to be the only one to see them fully. He wants to be the only one to see you naked in front of him.  
Oh, how he would love to fuck you. He couldn’t help it. You look so delicious standing there, with your pouty lips and doe-like eyes.  Your perfect body and silky hair.
To be honest, he noticed you at the company and could never work up the courage to start a conversation with you.  News flash: this has literally never happened to him before.  It was never difficult to speak confidently to anyone until you.  His extroverted personality suddenly does a one-eighty whenever he contemplates approaching you.   
You were just so beautiful.  The type of beauty that seemed unattainable.  The type of visual Mark would never approach because he concluded that there are already a million people at your feet. 
He recalls the few times he passed you in the halls and you politely bowed.  Or when your recording sessions would overlap slightly, and he would hear your voice in the studio.  Or when he passed by you in those tight clothes that barely covered your body practicing with your group. 
Mark couldn’t lie, you were the most attractive out of all of them.  He personally thinks, no one could compare, but he has yet to discover what you’re really like.  Not the personality you convey on-screen.  
This only happens once a year.  It was an opening for him to finally converse with you.  The company, media, or fans wouldn’t have a clue about it.  There would be no confession to them, the perfect chance to shoot his shot.  The only thing holding him back would be rejection.  At this point, the opportunity is too tempting to ignore as soon as he spots Soyeon pulling you outside the home. 
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This is so embarrassing.
You and Mark make eye contact as Soyeon drags you out the door.  He doesn’t pretend to look away.  
“Come on! Move!” 
“No! Oh my god! Stop!”
Soyeon finally stops with the physical force, and you both stare at each other.  Her eyes move from your eyes to his, another way of telling you to get on with it. 
“Think about it, this is the one day of the year where you’ll really get the chance, and with no judgment. Or sneaking around,” she adds in the last part, hoping you would miss it.  And you definitely didn’t. 
She’s stern on her point, supporting it over and over again with more reasons.  The persuasion is working, you think.  And now, you’re seriously contemplating it. What’s the harm? Rejection? Embarrassment? You don’t even know if he wants you. 
But maybe she’s right. You’ll most likely never run into him after today, and if you do, it probably won’t be until the same time next year. 
“I don’t want to hear for months after today what could’ve been.  You’ll spend so much time regretting it.  I know you better than yourself,” Soyeon adds further. 
Her words finally fuel your courage to make a move.  “Okay, just give me a second to build some confidence, meditate, or something,” you’re shutting your eyes to soothe the nervousness away. 
“Mhm, but maybe make it fast. Hot guy my twelve o’clock, coming your way. You’ll thank me later!” she quickly warns you as she pecks you on the cheek before making her way out of your line of sight.
There is no time for you to process what’s happening, or to prepare after she utters her last words. 
Turning around, Mark is already directly in front of you, your eyes align with his chest and it takes all of you to meet his eyes.  
“You don’t seem too happy to see me.” 
He was so fine.  You just wanted to stare at him. No matter how weird that sounded.
He’s scanning your entire form, taking a moment to drink in your appearance as you respond.  “I don’t have any emotions towards you.  We’ve never formally met.”
“Formally?  Did we cross paths at a time I didn’t know about?” The ice clinks against the cup as Mark raises it to sip and his Adam's apple bobs in a thick swallow. 
“I don’t know.  Maybe you know the answer,” you’re habitually pulling your body towards him.  The scent of his cologne laced with weed fills your nostrils and you already feel the warmth of his body radiating off him. You just can’t help it.  You wanted him so badly, so badly that you didn’t second guess your obvious signals. 
“You’re acting a little too dumb, saying words before thinking them through,” the false confidence is oozing from your voice as you speak. Okay.  Maybe you’re drunk and you didn’t know it.  If that’s the case, you won’t stop any time soon. 
“What do you mean I’m acting dumb?” he follows his response with a chuckle at your assumption. 
“You approached me as if we knew each other, then suddenly, you’ve never seen me before?” 
“You’ve got it all wrong baby,” the pet name catches you off guard, but it rolls off his tongue like velvet.  “We’ve never met, but I’ve noticed you.” 
“Notice me? Elaborate,” you wanted to have him explain.  Maybe he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You had to be sure.  No embarrassment or rejection today, you exclaim to yourself.  But you couldn’t jinx it.  
“You’re the one I’ve been waiting to see tonight.”  
“So you didn’t see me come in earlier?” your orbs follow your index and middle fingers as they walk up his chest. Your fingers stop finally looking at him straight in the eyes, “I call bullshit.” 
“I did,” he glances at your hand on his chest before returning to you. “Just was waiting til’ I got you all to myself.” 
‘Well… wish fulfilled… So, what is it that you hoped to see me for?” 
He looks at you differently, and what you didn’t know was he’s contemplating saying the whole and honest truth or the version that wouldn’t scare your on-screen persona away.  The innocent, dainty, girl that would break if you press too hard.  But up until now, Mark only knew of that girl.  
“Hey, Markie!” Yeonjun walks up from behind Mark, obviously drunk.  He’s stumbling around, anchoring himself by putting a hand on Mark’s shoulder.  “I see your buzyyys” he slurs while directing his attention to you. 
“You’re really so so hot, Y/n.  If yous torn Markie here, down, I’m alayz here,” his hooded eyes scream drunk.  “Hyung, don’t put that away!” he yells to someone behind you.  
You’re turning towards the home to find the person he’s addressing, but he’s suddenly stumbling past you, unintentionally pushing you backward. 
You’re off-balanced and as you close your eyes to prepare for impact, it never comes, and you feel an arm wrap around your waist, preventing you from practically eating shit.
Mark's arms are around your waist, sending a scowl back at Yeonjun before directing his attention back to you.
"As I was saying.” 
You gaze up at him, your chest now pressed against his. 
“What I hope to see you for?”
“Go on.” 
Mark doesn’t know what comes over him suddenly, but he’s thinking he should just rip it off like a bandaid because it’s all or nothing. 
“Is to have me in between your legs, and you screaming my name.” 
“I’d like to see you try,” your eyes move down to his lips.  It was so tempting to just pounce on him right here, right now.  
It was clear that you both wanted each other as much as the other did.  The game you always played with men every so often got you what you wanted, but this time, with Mark, it was almost impossible to keep playing. 
Mark doesn’t respond verbally.  Instead, he takes his hand to move the hair sheathing your ear.  You think he’s about to whisper something, but he begins kissing your neck, trailing down from your earlobe. 
“Is that what you like to do? Test people?” his lips are against your ear and you’re caught off guard, doing everything in your power to hold back a moan. 
“Yeah, that’s what I want,” you respond softly, eyes shut.  
“Be careful what you wish for.  It might come true,” he brings his face to yours, and your lips are practically two inches apart.  The buzzing in your body doesn’t stop and you’re scolding yourself for wanting to give in so easily.  
You notice him biting his lip, content with the effect he has on you. 
You lick your lips, “And what if I want it to?” 
“You’re all bark no bite baby.” 
“If you want me to bite, I will.” 
“I have yet to see otherwise,” he whispers against your ear, lip grazing your lobe. Mark doesn’t follow with another word but your impatience and the alcohol coursing through your veins forces you to make the decision. 
You close the distance between you two, connecting your lips with his.  It was so sudden, but he kisses you back almost immediately, squeezing your waist harder and the other hand instinctively goes to your cheek. 
You forget about the world around you, and that people are basically watching you begin to make out with Mark in the middle of the backyard.  But the built-up lust makes everyone disappear. You’re both in your own world, with no other thought in your consciousness. 
You don’t know what Mark is thinking, but he’s in the same boat as you.  He wanted you for so long, and now he finally has you. Following that thought, he doesn’t know what he did in his past life to deserve this, but he must have saved an entire country to be able to receive what he’s experiencing now.  
You’re kissing more roughly now, your arms around his neck as he gropes your entire body.  Your hands snake up into his hair, and you find yourself pulling his locks as it becomes more intense.  When his hand snakes down to your ass, he squeezes, which earns a gasp from you.  
Mark takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into yours.  Your mouths fit each other perfectly, and you question if the other people you made out with in the past were real, because it has never felt this good before.  
After a while, you’re pulling back, Mark struggling to pull himself away from you. 
“Easy there,” your forehead is still against his, eyes on his lips. 
“You’re so fucking hot,” he husks against your mouth. 
Both of your chests are rising and falling at a rapid pace, not realizing you needed to catch your breaths. 
“Upstairs, the second door, on your left,” the words roll off his tongue without hesitation. 
You’re mutually agreeing, you, with a nod as you slowly part, and your fingers run off his, until the tip of the nail.  It’s so hard to control yourself and act as if nothing had just happened.  
Of course, people were looking.  Some were whispering to each other, the others smirking, and finally, the one’s with a scowl on their faces as they watched each one walk away from the other.  
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You’re in the room sitting at the edge of the bed as you wait for Mark.  You had just sat down and looked around the room.  It’s clean and smells husky, but you can tell someone was staying here due to the small duffel bag and clothing scattered across the floor. 
And you definitely couldn’t lie, you are so nervous.  What would Mark be like in bed? Rough, dominant, gentle, or maybe submissive?  It had been so long since you had sex, it felt as if you were a virgin all over again.  
You’re amidst your own thoughts when you hear the click of the door.  The door doesn’t open carefully, but it’s practically slammed open.  Mark doesn’t look back as he closes the door behind him, not even stopping for a single second.  The moment he sees you, he’s grabbing your face and smashes your lips against each other.  It’s too fast, all of it happening in one motion.  
You’re stumbling back until the back of your leg hits the edge of the bed, forcing you to sit back on it. But Mark’s lips don’t leave yours, following you and pushing you slowly until your back hits the mattress. His arms cage your body with his knee between your legs.  You feel Mark grab behind the bend of your leg to wrap around his torso while your lips are still attached;  Intertwining in perfect harmony.  
The buzzing all around your body only seems to grow stronger as he becomes more aggressive.  It was like he was so hungry that he couldn’t stop even if someone walked into the room right this instant.  You couldn’t lie, it would probably turn you on more.  
Mark couldn’t help it, you were just so insatiable, like a drug that he couldn’t get enough of.  Like a drug, he could take over and over, without getting sick.  He wanted all of you so badly, but only if you were willing to give yourself to him.  
The more you dive deeper into Mark, the more he sucks you in, and the more you want him. 
The makeout is unforgiving, animalistic almost. “So sweet,” he murmurs against your mouth.  It feels too good to open your eyes to him.  Your panties are already sticky and if this continues, you’d have to throw them away.  
You’re biting your lip as Mark’s lips leave yours to trail kisses down your neck.  He’s careful not to leave hickeys as he already knows that your makeup artists would be unforgiving.  
But Mark continues to trace kisses down your body, pulling down your skirt and practically tearing off your underwear in one motion. He’s kissing all around except where you need him the most and it makes you whine.  
“Tell me you want it,” this statement has you looking down and locking eyes with him. 
“Mark, just get on with it.”
“Try again,” at that, he presses circles at your clit without a warning. It’s slow, the pad of his thumb easing over your bud.  But it’s too slow, and you need more.  
“Mark, Please.  I want you,” you mewl, giving in to his demand. The one action already having you fall apart right under his fingertips.  Before you know it, you’re instinctively moving your body closer to him, the eagerness exemplifying the level of want when you’re clenching around nothing. 
“Yeah?” you don’t see it but the smirk he exudes at your greenlight is much more than subtle.  “Don’t have a smart-ass comment now?” 
Before you can retort, he’s diving head first, licking a stripe up your slit.  It’s a satisfying feeling, a gasp threatening to spill from your lips as the feeling of arousal becomes stronger.  
He’s continuing, knowing exactly how to turn you on, knowing exactly how to touch your body, and how to make your eyes roll back.  His hands roughly push against the sides of your thigh to prevent you from moving out of place and the dim lights aren’t a hurdle as Mark finds your clit and gives it a sharp suck.  It’s just the beginning as he continues slurping and sucking in all the right places, unforgiving as he gives you the best head of your life.  Your eyes feel as if they're going to fall out of their sockets at the perfect pressure and pace. 
“Fuuu-ck,” it’s stretched out, the same word combining with a previous moan that threatened to come out from the back of your throat.  
“You’re so wet,” he rasps against your cunt. “So fucking messy.” 
“Mark, don’t stop!” 
What you didn’t know is Mark loved giving head.  He didn’t need to receive anything in return.  Knowing he made his partner cum turns him on beyond belief.  Making you squirm and moan his name like a mantra has him instinctively rutting his crotch against the mattress.  
You didn’t know he was this good.  It’s as if you and he have done this a hundred times before.  You’re absolutely drenched, your arousal mixed with his saliva drips down your core.  But a mess was the last thing you and Mark worried about.  
“Mark, I need more,” you squirm beneath him, your voice sounding already fucked out.
“Is that a demand?” he’s teasing, inserting only his middle finger while awaiting your obedience. 
A small gasp leaves your lips before you utter a plea, “Holy shit, Mark, please.” You’re practically whining at this point while your temper and impatience becomes all too consuming. 
“That’s better,” he adds his ring finger, adding to the fullness and earning another gasp from you. 
“Damn.  Thinking about your face when you cum is already making me so hard,” he groans against your cunt and continues to slowly grind his erection against the mattress with no embarrassment.  You were already fucked out, but you could see him from your peripheral view, and if it wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, you don’t know what is.  
Mark’s watching your expressions as he slowly pulls his fingers out before plunging them back in.  He doesn’t let up as the slow motion suddenly speeds up, and he has you moaning and squirming underneath him. 
He suddenly sucks on your clit in sync with the rhythm of his fingers and your eyes practically roll into your head.  “Mark, Mark,” you shout as your thighs begin to quiver and you’re arching your back at the gratifying overstimulation.  
"I-I’m gonna cum," your words are barely audible, mingled with gasps and groans, but Mark attentively listens, hearing every sound that emanates from you.  He doesn't stop and keeps going in the same motions, only rougher and faster. It's not until he curls his fingers inside you that he finally reaches the sweet spot. 
Your orgasm hits you all at once, tears threaten to spill down the sides of your face as the band in your lower abdomen inevitably snaps, and your entire body shakes.  Mark sucks and slurps on your clit as if nothing happened, and you're virtually screaming.  The obscene sounds fill the room and don't halt until you beg him to stop and he notices the cum gushing out of your body painting his fingers and dripping down your cunt.  
“Fuck,” you’re spent, and it’s all solely from Mark’s tongue and fingers.  You haven’t even seen his dick yet, and it already tops all the other people you’ve decided to waste your nights with. 
“Done already?” The words are like butter, right before he licks another stripe up our sensitive core. “Well, I’m not done with you,” you quiver as he carefully drops the straps of your top, and then, brings the fabric over your head.  Your senses seem to be on overdrive today, and you can’t get enough.   
Mark's large hands glide from the inside to the outside of your thighs, merely to define the contour of your hips and waist, stopping to frame your breasts, and slowly begins circling your nipples, as if he read your thoughts.  “Feel good?” 
“Mhm,” the high from one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had begins to finally come down and you notice the lips that hover right above you. Before another thought, your arm hooks around his neck to pull him down onto your lips.  
He welcomes the kiss, mouth moving languidly with yours.  Both of your bodies melt into each other as the serene moment becomes all too comfortable.  His hand continues to press circles on your nipple as the other gently rubs against your waist, eventually moving down to your inner thigh, in an attempt to soothe your spent body. The push and pull of your lips continues on for a few moments before it becomes faster.  Mark bites down on your lower lip, but you whimper at the action because of the overwhelming sensitivity.  
At your whimper, he lets go to lick over your bottom lip as an expression of remorse.  You’re so overwhelmed, it's only now that you remember his very big problem.  It’s poking at your hip, and he lets you know he notices your revelation by experimentally pressing his erection against your center. This causes you to lock eyes with him, another smirk adorning his perfect face.  
Mark’s cockiness only instigates you to unhook the arm around his neck and move down to cup his erection.  You don’t even look down, staring up at him as you palm him through his pants.  “You just love playing games don’t you,” but the shaky exhale he withdraws notifies you of the facade.
“Only if you’re playing,” your hooded eyes and bottom lip trapped in between your teeth say much more.  The seductiveness of your tone only pulls Mark closer to you, him getting lost in every single sense. 
Mark decides at this very moment he's too impatient to withhold any longer.  He's had enough.  Enough of your doe eyes staring at him as if nothing else matters.  Enough with the melodious responses that exit your pretty lips. Enough of the temptation that you are. He's willing to obey every demand, no matter the cost. He thinks that even though you two hardly know each other, it's as if you've done this a hundred times before.
He is already withdrawing from your body to remove his clothing in front of you. The warmth is missed, but now you’re just sitting there in awe, because what the fuck.  The large t-shirt he always wore hid his delicious arms and oh so, thin waist. Mark’s towering over you and it’s difficult not to gawk at his figure.  The boxers that hug his hips are pulled down, revealing his big cock.  You knew it was more than average when feeling the imprint on his pants, but you almost drool at the sight in front of you.  
“Like what you see?” he’s emitting the same look, with the corner of his lip tugging up in return for your reactions.  
You don't say a thing, instead groaning at his languid movements, legs spread open, upper body propped up with your arms. You continue to watch as he puts his hand over his cock and gently strokes it.  Mark bites his lower lip to keep a groan at bay after stroking a little quicker.  Watching him fuck himself turned you on belief and it should be embarrassing but the sight was basically straight out of a porn video.  
“Let me help you out,” patience was never your strong suit, and the ogling only lasts a few moments before you’re on all fours, inching to the edge of the bed where Mark stands.  He lets you, removing his hand before you lick a long stripe up from the base of his cock, then slightly sucking the tip. A smile threatens to come about as Mark twitches at your action.  
“Stop teasing before I fuck you senseless against the wall,” he huffs, throwing his head back. Mark was so close to just pulling you off and using you if you let him.  You seemed to be taking your precious time, but he was slightly worried he would come embarrassingly fast if you were the one in control here.  Anything you did, he seemed to fall apart so easily.  Right into the palm of your hand. 
The warning was one that seemed like a reward to you, but you regress, pushing him into your mouth in one motion.  Immediately gagging, the tip hits the back of your throat fast.  It barely fits inside your mouth, and you find yourself using your hand to make up for the remainder.  “Shit, that’s it,” he groans at the vibration from your throat as his praise makes you moan, imagining his cock in your pussy later.
You can feel every ridge of his cock in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, sucking and moving back and forth.  He was so big, and the more you took of him, the more sounds came from Mark. It only urged you on further, sucking and bobbing like your life depended on it.
You’re squeezing your thighs together to aid the ache as the sound of the glide of your tongue against his cock is the only thing filling the air in the bedroom.  It seems to be the final straw when he uses his hand to twist your hair and pull you off his cock.  “Fuck, enough.  I’m gonna cum if you keep going.” 
You use the back of your hand to wipe off the corners of your mouth before Mark guides you onto your back with his hand still wrapped around your hair, the same hand resting on the back of your head. He's hanging over you once more, and the warmth you longed for returns.  Your legs are already spread open, wanting to cure the clenching of nothing in between your legs. 
“Are you sure you want this?” he’s biting his lip as he politely runs the hand originally entangled in your hair to push away the ones in front of your face.  
“Want you so bad,” your words combine with a whimper because he’s running his cock back and forth over your sensitive folds, collecting as much cum as possible.  
He offers a polite smile before he pushes in. It’s slow, but Mark’s size was far from normal, at least, far from what you’re used to. You feel so full and you both gasp at the contact, a grunt coming from him.  “Oh my fucking god,” you almost choke on your words, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as you adjust to his size.  Mark grunts against your ear at your pussy swallowing his dick.  If he were to die right now, this is what he guesses heaven would feel like.  
“Fuck,” he tests the waters by grinding his hips against you, and it already has your back arching.  “You’re so fucking tight,” his hands return to your waist, the arch of your back forced back onto the mattress. His hands are sure to leave bruises, but you couldn’t give a care in the world.   Every single movement and drag of his cock against your walls is ecstasy, the delicious burn fueling the awaiting high. “You’re such a good girl. Taking me so well,” he murmurs. 
“Mark, please move.” 
“So needy,” he rolls his hips against you once more, while his pelvis is against you, “Your wish is my command,” before pulling back and diving back into your heat.  “Oh,” a moan escapes your lips at the action. Your eyes are barely open, but those hooded eyes are focused on the Greek god in front of you.  You stare at the strained muscles all along his back, his whole body flexing with every movement.  
He’s repeating the same pull and push of his hips until there's a consistent pace, every stroke earning more sounds from you. The grip he has on you becomes tighter as he begins speeding up his thrusts.  
You’re practically sobbing at the way Mark burrows his cock inside you, fucking you so that you can’t walk the next day.  It’s so rough, breasts and body jolting with every movement, and you’re searching for stability by bringing your legs around his waist. You love it rough.  Wanting him to use you, use you in any way he wanted. Mark suddenly pulls out almost completely before brutally hitting the spot inside you where you need him the most.  
“H-holy shit, Mark.”
He’s so lost in the pleasure, the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and the feel of your pussy choking his cock like a vice makes it almost painful to hold back his moans. It’s an impossible task though, with you in front of him lost in pleasure, tits bouncing in front of his face with the pretty sounds coming from you.  Mark is too close.  Embarrassingly close.  He wants to prolong this as long as possible because he can’t seem to ever get enough.  
“You’re not the sweet, innocent girl everyone thinks you are, are you?” he spits and you’re too fucked out to decipher his words.  “W-what,” your words combine with a moan because you yourself feel the forming of another orgasm in your lower abdomen and attempt to meet his thrusts halfway to reach euphoria. Tears are threatening to fall, makeup smeared, but you don’t give a care in the world as Mark continues.  
“You act like an innocent school girl who’s gonna break if she receives one insult,” he scoffs.  “But you’re not,” before he can finish his string of words, he’s pulling his cock out of you to turn you around onto your stomach.  You yelp at the action before you feel his arm hook around your waist, bringing you up to your knees. 
 “You’re dirty, walking around in clothing that barely covers your body, so what? So you can get fucked?” you gasp as Mark plunges his cock back inside from behind, the new angle making you squirm. He has his lip caught between his teeth as he continues with the pace he exercised prior. 
“Mark I-i’ll come,” you're dropping to your elbows after your arms give out. It seems as if Mark is in the same boat as you when his thrusts become faster and more aggressive; if that’s even possible.  Your brain feels like a puddle of mush, the band threatening to snap again.  
“You got what you wanted,” he leans down to hover against your ear with his chin against your nape, not stopping the addictive pace of his thrusts.  “But you got it all wrong.” 
“Mark d-don’t stop! Fuck!” 
He brings his arm back below you and pinches your clit.  "From now on, I'm the only one who gets to fuck you. Got it?" You're not sure if it's the hazy words that come out of his mouth or the way he explores your body, but you're at the point where you'll do anything to get to the goal given that your legs are shaking. You’re so close, and you want it so fucking bad.  
“Yes! Fuck yes!” 
“So good.  Come for me, baby,” He rasps, unable to hide how fucked out he is. With a few more thrusts from Mark, the coil finally snaps and your entire body convulses underneath him. He keeps going even after this, pursuing his high and intensifying the orgasm. You're shaking and sobbing, and it's spreading throughout your body, beginning in your lower belly and progressing throughout.  It’s consuming you completely, the addicting high turning your body into a mass of nothing. A moan threatens to escape from your throat, but to no avail, not a single sound comes about.  
"Holy shit, so fucking tight," your pussy spasms around his cock, making it difficult for Mark to move, but it's enough for him to reach his, cum painting your walls as he rides out both of your peaks; Your cum and his mix together as it drips down your body. 
You feel your entire body collapse back onto the mattress as you come down, and your consciousness battles with the idea of sleep as it wanders. 
 Not soon after, it finally gives in.  
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The intense rays of the sun through the drapes forces you awake, eyelids fluttering at the intrusion.  You rub your eyes before opening them, and after a few moments, you realize that this isn't your room, and memories from the night before resurface.  While twisting your body around to the opposing side, a small smile appears on your lips.  
Mark is fast asleep beneath the sheets, his features serene.  You simply want to continue watching him sleep with no expression on his face because he's simply, well, gorgeous.  But you quickly second-guess yourself and determine that, yes, this is a little weird, therefore getting up to use the restroom to distract yourself was the best decision.  
Before your feet can touch the cold floor, a hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back to your original position.  Except, this time, Mark’s arms are wrapped around your entire figure, his chin resting against the crown of your head. 
"Let's just stay like this for a little while," he declares, lids remaining closed. 
You melt against him, with a small laugh pervading the room, and say, "Okay." 
Soon after, you're both falling asleep once more, bodies entangled like they were the night before, but for a completely different reason. 
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bits-and-babs · 7 months
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✦ 𝐁𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 ✦
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– KINKTOBER DAY 8: ROLEPLAY
könig x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.2k words
summary: as with all of your bedroom antics with könig, you plant the seed. but when he finally succumbs to your devious plan, you struggle to withstand the heat.
cw: f!reader, roleplay hostage situation, faux attack, faux disregard for partners comfort (könig cares a lot though, i promise) oral sex (m receiving), rough oral sex, face slapping, rough deep throating. 
⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 9: WITCH!READER ⇾
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The answer is unyielding and finite; ❝ no ❞. 
König was consistent in his promise to separate work from pleasure, so to speak. He refused to amalgamate something as pretty and delicate as you with something as ruinous and hideous as war— as his job. 
KorTac and Task Force 141 were unaware of your existence. König assured you it was for your protection. The less his allies knew about his valuable and beloved, his adversaries knew little still. Despite this, he offered you insight into his hostile world through a minute embrasure; the Scottish bomb disposal expert, Soap, the handsome Gaz who König colloquially named ‘helicopter boy’. Ghost. 
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Still, he insisted upon keeping you pure. Scratch free, barren from the agonising shrapnel of grief and the devastating shells of brutal warfare. 
So when you pose the idea, quiet and shy in your approach, of König wearing his tactical uniform and treating you like a captive… The ‘no’ is adamant. However, as with everything you do or say to König, the idea worms its way into his mind. 
Days pass, but the thought seems to stick with König. He’s unsettled, fidgety almost. You suppose he thinks he’s being subtle, but with a frame as enormous as König lugs around, it’s almost impossible for the pitiful giant to do anything indistinctly. One nervous bob of his knee appears to set off avalanches in Tibet. 
When you return from work, everything is still, and abnormally quiet. It’s unusual for the house to be vacant upon your return from work, König always at the door as if ready to spring and remove the damn laptop bag that threatened to pop your shoulder from its socket as though it were an incendiary with a lit fuse. Nevertheless, the lights are off today, and the TV is silent. 
Creeping forward into the apartment, the door slowly swings shut behind you. The click of the lock setting into place isn’t alien to you– but neither is it, it seems, to your attacker. Poised and lethally swift, your assailant leaps from the shadows of the dimly lit apartment and smothers your mouth before a scream can even bubble past your trembling lips. Soft hushes breathe against your ear before terror can truly kick in, a familiar lilting accent turning your knees soft beneath your weight.
“You are to do as I say when I say it, Meine Perle.” König sounds so relaxed, as though he’s not breaking a sweat beneath the tactical vest you can feel digging into your shoulder blades. With a fizzling arousal skittering up your vertebrae and trembling beneath his touch, you nod your head slightly. It earns you praise, whispering a quiet ‘good girl’ against your hairline. 
So in tune with König’s non-verbal commands, you kneel as though he had barked the order when you feel him tap your shoulder absentmindedly. It’s foreign, the disregard König shows to your knees by making you settle on the hardwood floor in front of the entrance door– usually he would situate a pillow beneath you to ensure you didn’t bruise. Not today. You were his hostage. His plaything. 
Gazing up at the startling bulk of the behemoth standing before you, a thrill prickles at the nape of your neck when you watch him unzip his camo trousers deftly. It’s as though your taste buds tingle with anticipation as König pulls his already leaking cock from them, the leather of his gloves protesting quietly as he grips his length hard. 
“Open your mouth.” It’s an order. A threat. Excitement rouses between your thighs as you do just that, gazing up at your captor demurely and situating your palms on your lap. He’s unforgiving, winding your hair around his fingers and violently pulling your mouth onto his twitching cock. 
You barely register what’s happened before the rumble of his groan reaches your ears. A quiet ‘fuck’. 
Then he’s pushing, using the heel of his palm on the curve of your skull to sink you down his length before you’re ready. Firm, velvety flesh hits the back of your throat and sends you reeling, tears welling in your eyes as you gag around him, attempting to draw back. 
“Stop,” he barks, the frigidity of his tone triggering sparks in your abdomen– so unlike König. He halts your retreat, shoving you forward onto his cock until your nose is buried in the thatch of dark curls at the base of his shaft. Salt burns in the back of your throat, and tears spill down your cheeks. There’s a gleam in his eye that tells you he’s grinning. 
“If you value the air in your lungs,” König murmurs, voice sticky and thick with arousal as he rocks his hips slightly, your nose bumping his pubic bone and the head of his dick nudging your at your gag reflex, “it’ll do you good to stay put.” 
Heaving breaths through your nose, you flinch as König raises his leather-clad palm. It strikes downwards, connecting with your cheek harder than you suppose you’d both anticipated– because König lets out a sadistic groan of bliss, head lilting to the side slightly as he tries to bury himself further down your throat. It crushes your nose into his abdomen, and you feel the skin stretched above the bridge wrinkle. 
“Shit–” you hear him heave, the fingers in your hair tightening mercilessly, “I felt that in my cock.” The murmured admission, a slight deviation from that character König was attempting to play. Glee buries itself at the base of your spine, pulses in your clit. 
“Again,” he snaps back into character, with his dick buried as far down your throat as possible. Again, he lifts his wrist, bringing it down with a brutal smack against your cheek. The skin prickles, and you heave against the intrusion of his cock until tears spill down your cheeks. 
König’s lungs rattle with the force of his growl. His eyes are dark behind the mask, pleasure swallowing the pretty jade-green of his irises and he watched you choke on his length. 
Of course he’s getting off on you kneeling in front of him, dick buried in your throat and making a mess of your work makeup— but he can feel the vibrations of his slaps in your mouth around him. It’s making his nostrils flare; you can hear it. 
“A-gain.”
The crack that sounds against your cheekbone this time makes you whimper with the pain that follows. König loses control of himself, it seems, grasping desperately at your skull to hold you in place while fucking into your throat wildly. His head rolls back, grip bruising as his whole body seems to seize. 
Cum spills down your throat, heavy and thick and plentiful. König sounds almost pained by the force his orgasm is ripped from him, groaning loudly and high pitched to your ears as you gag around him again, the squeezing of your throat muscles adding to his bliss. 
“Hah—“ he gasps, pulling himself from your mouth to allow you to breathe. It’s not pretty, the ridiculous sounds of your frantic breathing, but when König kneels in front of you and cradles you in his massive arms, you feel precious. Priceless. 
König presses kisses to your temple, pushes your hair from your face and tells you just that. 
“Meine Perle.” 
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@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk
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1K notes · View notes
sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
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WANTED: Ghost x Reader x König [HEAVY SMUT]
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Warnings: Consensual Non-Con, Threesome, Double Penetration, Stomach Bulging, Fem Reader [Male Fic in Production], Forced Breeding/Pregnancy Kink, Corruption Kink, Virginity Kink, Roleplay, Size Kink, Sir Kink, Daddy Kink, Humiliation Kink, Lactation Kink, Breastfeeding Kink, Forced Petplay, Dumbification, Sadism, Bondage, Unprotected Sex, Possessive Sex, Cum Play, Creampie, Breath Play, Knife Play, Cutting, Blood, Wax Play, Masks Stay On, Beating/Spanking W/ a belt, Struggling, Resistance, Man Handling of Reader, Voyeurism, Oral (Male Receiving), Overstimulation, Forced Orgasms, Marking, Nipple Play, Attempted Forced Female Masturbation, Burning W/ a Lighter, Fingering, Male Masturbation, Forced Oral (Giving), Anal, Plugging, Plugs, Threats of Physical Violence, Degradation, Blackmail, Explicit Smut, Smut, Profanity, Pussy Slapping, Angry Fucking, Biting, Kidnapping. [EVERYTHING IS CONSENSUAL AND PRE-AGREED TO BEFORE THE FIC STARTS].
Wordcount: 14,695
They’d plucked you from your home and forced you into another, one which you hadn’t seen, even after they tore the sack from your head.
A camera sat on the dresser, its red eye blinking, gleaming, recording the silence. A candle resided next to it, rouge and unused. The room held a sickly disposition, lit by a single lamp on the bedside.The door, wooden, burst open, almost splintering and swinging off its hinges. The camera paid attention, finally having something to record.
König ignored your kicking and screaming as he threw you onto the bed, Ghost shadowing him, locking the door and throwing the key atop the dresser. You scrambled to the furthest corner, breathing heavily, eyes blown wide. Both men stood before you now, their manhoods throbbing and tearing against the fabric of their pants, tenting them. “You’ve left us no choice, girl.” Ghost said, voice heavy and raspy with what one could only describe as carnal lust. The masks they wore made it impossible to tell what they were thinking, but given how they’d handled you thus far, you could practically taste it. “No, please–” you whimpered, pressing yourself further into the corner, crossing your legs and trying to conceal the coveted prize which König and Ghost so desired above all else. But they weren’t having any of it. Ghost began sliding his belt from his trousers, the sound of leather against denim sibilant in your ear, all the while making his way round to the other side of the bed. His eyes glinted in the dim light, revealing no humanity within. Gone. Eradicated. Though that suggested he had any to begin with. You had nowhere to run. He was slow. Intentional. When he’d unsheathed his belt, he folded it in half and clapped the two sides of leather together, sending a crack of thunder resonating within the room. It made your insides ache and your flower throb, creating a continental patch of wetness on your underwear. Ghost smirked beneath his mask. König watched, guarding the door, palming himself through his trousers. “If you didn’t want this, you should’ve thought about that before talking to strangers.” His voice sent shivers down your spine. All the while, König undid his belt and slid it from his pants, his nigh-concealed gaze making his intentions all too apparent to you.
“Didn’t your parents ever teach you about that?” came König’s voice. He watched you, eyes never leaving you. “Or…perhaps we are the ones to teach you–” the belt swayed in his grip, “--to discipline you.” You could feel the shiver run down his spine as he spoke. You wanted to be sick. “I thought you needed hel–ah!” König grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards him, wrenching a gasp from your lungs and leaving you drawn and exposed. Ghost wasted nothing of the opportunity and slid his belt around your wrists, pulling it tight so you couldn’t break free. You yelped, thrashing, trying to release yourself from the two mens’ grip, but to no avail. König practically pounced on you, making sure you were squarely beneath him, slapping a hand over your mouth.
His weight was nearly too much for you to withstand, twice that of a normal man’s and sodden with years of murderous intent. He had you pinned without, at his mercy.
“Should’ve gagged her,” he said, vaguely casting Ghost a glance. Most of his attention was on you, the fear in your eyes as tears gathered there. The rest of it was on the evening’s events, all of which entailed some horrible thing done to you and you alone.
He rocked his hips against your cowering frame, icy stare dimming only when his eyes shut, the diluted pleasure he felt now nothing compared to that which he would feel at the expense of your suffering.
“Wouldn’t be able to hear her pretty little cries then, would we?” Ghost said, casual, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. König let out a scoff, or perhaps a laugh.
“Yes,” he relented, running a finger down the side of your face, streaking your tears across your skin. “You’re right.” His eyes traversed the contours of your face, stopping at your eyes. Looking into them, drinking the emotions that resided within them, he read you like the open book you’d become. You, on the other hand, saw nothing in his; void, save for the half-lidded, manic mist which descended upon his very form.
His touch trailed down your cheek, your throat, then stopped at the collar of your shirt. Only then did he look away from your face. “Need to get these off before we start.” The way König spoke felt institutional - like this was a practice rather than an attack. Ghost made a waving, dismissive gesture, reaching below the bed for something. You wondered how they’d do it, with scissors, or their bare hands–
From beneath his shirt, concealed, König withdrew a knife; thick, military and real. You gasped, tears clinging to your periphery as you did to any hope of surviving this ordeal. König’s head tilted, Ghost still rifled for something beneath you.
“Shh, sweet girl, shh - it’s okay!” König’s eyes crinkled, becoming half moons, eclipsing the malice that radiated from him, smoke. His breathing grew heavier, the bulge in his pants became ever more apparent to you the longer he spent atop you. You felt his hips rock, carefully, once. He poised the tip of the knife to your collar, and dragged it, slowly, down the expanse of your abdomen. You tried not to breathe - tried to prevent any unwanted movement that would give him reason enough to gut you right now.
It was sharp, and you knew it was only via König’s sheer resistance and will that it didn’t penetrate your clothing and leave a long slice down your front. Though the phantom pain followed, the layer of an alternate universe - an alternate you - passing over your own; one where you were not so fortunate, where your screams were heard infinities across.
König‘s eyes trailed the blade. His breath shuttered as the tip came to the waistband of your pants. He rutted again, stifling a groan. Ghost rose, his shadow resting over you, a shroud. He watched, holding something that was just out of your line of vision by his side.
The sound of cloth tearing brought your attention back to König, and it took everything in you not to jump, not to forfeit yourself to the blade. You swallowed thickly, throat drying, adrenaline and scorching ice coursing through you. You tilted your head back, narrowly avoiding the tip of Konig’s knife as it ascended the length of your shirt, exposing your middle to your captors. König’s eyes remained on your skin. He brought a hand to the thin trail exposed to him, felt the length of it, making you shiver. Then tore it from you.
The material was thrown to the dark recesses of the room, left to be feasted upon by the shadows that resided within.
Your pants were the next article to be destroyed, spared of the wrath of the knife, yet resigned to an ever more brutal fate. König ripped them apart, catching your panties in the crossfire, leaving you in only your bra. Even he seemed as shocked as you, leaning back to take in what he and Ghost had gone through so much effort for. Ghost leaned over you, drinking in your body.
“Oh, I’m going to enjoy tonight,” König said, his gaze flitting up to meet Ghost’s. He slid the knife up the bridge of your bra and freed it from you. Tore it from you.
“You’d be hard pressed not to.” At that, Ghost raised his hand, revealing what he’d been sorting through the underbed for.
A lighter.
He flipped the top open and rolled his thumb against the flint wheel, coaxing it to life. The flame erupted, dancing.
Your heart was in your mouth, your mind convulsed, your body wanted to follow. You needed to get out. Now. With a pillar of a man at either end of you and your hands bound, you scanned the room. The only entrance and exit was the (now locked) door, the key to which slept on the dresser; between which two mammoths of men - of soldiers - stood.
Yet, you saw a chance.
Taking advantage of the added weight of your hands being bound, you slammed your clasped fists down on König’s chest, taking him off-guard and making him stumble, fall back. You bucked your hips up, forcing him off you. He grunted, a noise of surprise. And you scrambled. Ran.
The phantom of Ghost’s fingers almost tangling in your hair bristled against you, his thick accent prevalent in the guttural “Grab her!” as he commanded König.
You tore the key from the dresser, fumbled it into the lock. All the while, Ghost’s rapidly advancing footsteps grew closer, as did König’s, the sound of boulders against concrete in your ears. You flinched, tensing, as you felt Ghost’s shadow cover you, his red hot anger radiating from him like steam. You turned the key, a lick away from salvation. But your efforts were all in vain. Instead of grabbing you by your hair or your arm, you felt something that made your blood run cold. A cool, snakeskin-like material slid around your throat and yanked you back. Hard.
Your hands flew to your throat, feeling a belt pressed tightly against it. You grappled, choking for air as Ghost forced you flush against his chest, his heart pounding against your back as yours did against your ribs. The sound of your stifled breath filled the room.
Ghost pulled you back, further into the room and deeper into your demise.
“You little whore,” he seethed. His eyes scorched marks into your skull. You scarcely heard him over your own struggle for survival, but his voice - his words - were unmistakable. “I have the good sense to break your fuckin’ neck right here, right now.” He pulled the belt tighter around your throat, his knuckles turning white, veins bulging in his arms and hands. He did not surrender, even as you clawed at his hands, scuffed the belt with your nails, the sound of you choking on leather a broken record. Tears sprang to your eyes; your vision was starting to darken, tendrils in your periphery. You swore you could feel your body wilting - dying - where you stood.
Yet, in all his infinite mercies, Ghost dropped the belt and threw you onto the bed, relinquishing your throat of König’s deadly wardrobe. You fell back, swallowing air as if it were your last breath, König nearby having watched the whole scene, eyes wide. Frantic.
You were granted little reprieve, however. The crack of leather against your skin, the burn, shocked you from your near-death haze, making you bolt upright and gasp.
Your eyes were wide as they fell upon Ghost’s hulking figure, shoulders heaving with every breath he took, the belt wrapped around his tattooed arm like a snake would a villain, the end practically smoking with the force with which it bit you. You watched each other, a stand-off. Though, Ghost wouldn’t call it that; a stand-off suggested that you at least had a way to defend yourself.
“Hold her down. Don’t let her get away.” Ghost addressed König, who, like lightning, struck, taking your belted wrists in his hands and hoisting you up, pulling you so far against himself that you thought your arms would tear. You writhed, trying to escape König’s grip, but his strength and Ghost’s stare discouraged you, subdued your efforts with the promise of punishment. Ghost reared up then snapped the belt against your thigh, a clap of flesh thunder filling the room. You cried out, tried to bring your knees into your chest to protect yourself, but Ghost was having none of it. He grabbed your ankle and pulled you back, striking you with the belt once he had you splayed out before him. And he kept hitting you. Over and over again, long past the point of tears soaking your face, your screams making your throat rasp, and your legs, stomach and cunt raw red with sensitivity and injury. Agony. Everything hurt, stinging and pulsing and throbbing - anguish in its most visceral form. And Ghost stood over you, chest and shoulders heaving, a mirror, the same man he’d been before.
“I wouldn’t’ve had to do this if you’d just behaved,” he said, slamming the belt against your cunt like a drum. Again. And again. An infinity, it seemed; this spiral cycle of discipline. The curve of the belt was soaked in sweat, blood staining the edge of it, dried - the only indication of any time having passed. You wailed beneath him, voice cracking as you begged him to cease - pleaded with him to spare you. König gave little comfort as he only watched, forcing you into stillness when you thrashed and jolted, no doubt smiling beneath the veil. Your voice hitched like an old radio channel as you asked - groveled - for him to stop, please, I can’t take any more - I-I’m sorry!
Ghost refused to relent. “You brought this on yourself, you little bitch.” His words rang low with absolution. Conviction. He lashed the belt across your thigh once more, then stepped - staggered - back, seemingly exhausted by his own vigour. Cold air felt like ice against your skin, and in that moment of salvation, you dared to hope that perhaps this phase of the punishment was over.
“Flip her over.” Ghost shattered your dreams without so much as a second look. Your gaze darted to his face, trying to find a hint of jest or leniency there. There were neither.
König released you, grabbed and forced you onto your front, then took your wrists hostage again. Ghost gave no time for you to adjust to the bedsheets running coarse against your raw skin, your thighs rubbing the skin of your raw pussy - before skinning you with the belt again. He went for where it’d hurt most for the next week or so; the backs of your thighs and cheeks.
“Be grateful I’m not making you count ‘em,” Ghost said. “Or we’d be here all night.” He placed the edge of the belt against your shoulder, making you flinch, and dragged it to the small of your back. “And trust me, I can do this all night.” You wept into the covers, fresh anguish flushing your body whenever Ghost’s belt tore against your body, turning it as red as the blood that ran beneath it, perhaps atop it if the liquid you felt staining your skin wasn’t sweat. Neither Ghost nor König gave any indication, either, save for König sucking a hissing breath between his teeth as he looked upon the sunset hued bruises of your backside, to transition from the palette of dusk to night within the day.
You didn’t know how much time had passed, but judging by how your ass and thighs had gone numb, you hazarded a guess of around five, ten minutes. Maybe even less given how harsh - heavy-handed - Ghost had been. Yet it felt longer. Much, much longer. And it likely would have gone on for that long, too, if König’s voice hadn’t cut through the whistling of the belt, the clapping of your skin. The distress of your cries.
“I can’t wait any longer,” he stated. Ghost ceased, his actions becoming a mystery to you. He sighed. A moment’s consideration passed. The sound of the belt being placed on something followed.
“Alright,” he said, tone tinged with a dulled sharpness that had you pricking your ears to listen for the agitation that lay within. König released you, and you’d have thanked him, kissed him silly, had it not been for the sound of him undoing his pants. His belt lay discarded nearby, the tool of your torture, far enough to be just within reach for either him or Ghost but not out of mind for you. The sound of his zipper coming undone made your stomach clench, tighten. With a shallow sigh, König freed himself of his restraints and held his length in his large, willing hand. You got to your knees, wincing as your heels dug into your cheeks and sent splintering pain through them, taking in the dim light of the room again. Your eyes stung. Your gaze drifted to König. Your heart stopped.
He was huge - long and thick and painful, veins bulging along his shaft, leading to his throbbing, leaking, bulbous tip. You could just already tell he was going to struggle fitting it all in. The image of him growing impatient and slamming into you flashed in your mind. Your heart stuttered, a simultaneously tepid and baltic feeling washed through you. Horror, amplified by the sound of Ghost’s zipper descending behind you. “Mmh, can’t wait to see you try and take me,” König said, voice thick and dark. Cruel. “M’gonna make you bleed from the inside, maus.” He gave a quick laugh. Dry. Your eyes found Ghost’s, pleading and wide. But he showed just as little mercy, even after he’d taught you his lesson, loosened himself from the shackles of his rage. “Save some of her energy for me,” he said, slipping his pants down his thighs. His cock bulged, strained against his boxers, a wet patch having formed on the front. “Don’t want her passin’ out on me.”
“Oh, don’t you?” König said. The men shared a laugh. You wanted to cry. To die.
Ghost ducked and reached beneath the bed, and your breath hitched. He already had the lighter…so what else was he retrieving?
König pumped himself once. Twice. He gave a groan. Without warning, he grasped you by your hair with one hand and pulled you back, almost tearing it from your head. You gave a shriek. König slapped you.
“Stupid fucking girl,” he growled. He slammed his hand against your cunt, roughly trawling his fingers across it, finding your entrance. You gasped, his fingers knives against your sensitive clit. “Make any noise like that again and I’ll give you something to cry about.” Your stomach dropped, your heart ached. You nodded.
“Okay, I’m sorry–” you whispered, voice merely air and nothing more. König grasped your face, held it tightly. “I’m sorry, what?”
You trembled, vision blurred by your tears. Ghost’s silhouette was still visible to you, a shadow on the corner of your vision.
“I’m sorry, Sir,”
König smirked beneath his veil. “Good girl. Finally learning her place.”
Though you hated to admit it, König’s praise gave you shallow hope that he’d be more lenient with you, in spite of all he’d said. And that was your first mistake.
König pulled your back to his chest, and his achingly long, thick fingers found your hole. With neither warning, nor ceremony, he plunged them into you - two. And you let out a silent scream. It felt like he was prodding you with medical instruments, reaching deep inside and feeling you. On the edges of your vision, Ghost re-emerged, holding something behind his back, though less out of secrecy and more of laxity. He slid his underwear down to his thighs, revealing his aching, angry, red tip. He pumped himself, groaning when you began to cry.
“Oh, shh, sweet girl,” came König, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. His fingers spasmed inside you. “You only get to cry when I say so.”
And he kept going. He slid his fingers in and out, picking up speed the wetter you became, hitting a deep, dark part of you that, much to your horror, made you feel good. His thumb pressed into your clit, forcing the beginnings of euphoria through you.
“God, so small. I’m starting to wonder how we’re going to fit inside you–” he bit his lip as fear sparked in your widened eyes, just visible to him as your head began to lol against his shoulder. ”--without tearing you.”
The image he invoked made you sick, made you want to scream and cry until you coughed up your lungs, or someone found you. Yet you resisted, for you knew which of the two possibilities was far likelier to occur than the other; and it was not the one you wanted. “So weak,” König taunted. “So pathetic.”
“So fuckin’ tiny,” Ghost chimed in, a smirk evident in his tone. “Bet she couldn’t fend off a feather.” He stroked himself, pumping harder than before as he coated his cock in his pre-cum. Your blood boiled, but you said nothing. Fear overpowered your need to correct them.
“Well, she can’t fend us off.” König pressed into you, forcing a third finger inside you, reminding you of who - what - you were dealing with. Your eyes squeezed shut, a pained moan rippling through you. Even as he grew closer to your sweet spot, the weight and length of his fingers were difficult to take, especially considering how little either of them had done to prepare you. Perhaps this was how they were warming you up. The thought made you shiver; the implication that what you’d already suffered was not the end. König’s free hand trawled your waist, dipping into its curvature and creeping up your ribs. His fingers were soft, yet a weighted intention lay upon them, lead on skin. That much could be felt in the way his hand, now flat against your chest, slithered around your breast, cupping it. All the while, König’s occupied hand continued to break into you, forcing your lips further and further apart the deeper his fingers descended, the more he added. Ghost’s breathing grew shorter the longer he watched, his movements growing faster, his dick slick with his own arousal. It glistened in the dim light of the room, glinting at you, reminding you that it was there. That he still had his turn. König encompassed your breast with his claws, kneading it, plucking at your hardened nipple. You swallowed the gasps and whines that crawled up your throat, waiting for the right moment to pounce - to make your forced arousal known. But König seemed to know regardless, his voice hot in your ear.
“You’re soaking me, Darling,” he rasped. His hips bucked into the back of you, restrained. For the moment. His breath caught in his throat as electricity shot through him, his tip catching on the small of your back, leaving a thin trail of pre between his tip and your skin, his thighs squeezing your sides and keeping you caged. He was more machine than man; a hydraulic press.
“König–” Ghost’s voice, breathy, surrounded by the squelching of his juices against his hand, was a welcomed distraction from the vague euphoria building in your core. “I’m close.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, wondering what on earth Ghost could be thinking of doing with his load. You prayed that he wasn’t going to put it in you.
König’s hand slid up from your breast up to your jaw, holding it in place before bumping you up onto your knees with his hips, forcing you forward. You winced at the impact. His cock caught between your cheeks, and he restrained himself still. Ghost approached the bedside, pumping furiously. Even with König’s fingers inside you, the sound of slick demanded your attention.
With his free hand, Ghost presented the prize he’d concealed from you. A collar and leash. You swallowed, trying to back up into König, but he held you firmly in place, his hips a deterrent, the threat of impalement.
“Don’t move.” Releasing his cock, Ghost fastened the collar around your neck, making sure it was snug and tight. He wrapped the chain round his forearm as he had done the belt. His hand returned to his member, resuming the raging pace he’d taken to earlier.
His breaths almost seemed to sync with yours; König still fucking you with his fingers, four strong and knuckle-deep, massaging your clit with his thumb, he left you breathless, left you trying to conceal the effects of his devastation upon your body.
Ghost did little to help; when he saw your eyes close or your body begin to slump, he pulled on the chain, bringing you closer to him, closer to consciousness.
His pants transitioned from light gasps to low groans. You knew he didn’t have long. He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb. When you didn’t oblige, his stare hardened.
“Open.”
He didn’t have to ask twice before you parted your lips, allowing him into you. He fed his cock into your waiting mouth, hot and heavy on your tongue; a salty residue tingled on your taste buds. With his hand on the chain, he pulled, forced you down on his member, grip tightening when you initially resisted.
“Don’t test me, girl,” he glowered, eyes dark and intentions darker. “Bite me, and I promise you that you’ll never be able to use this mouth again.” He took your jaw in his chained hand and squeezed. You nodded. 
“Good girl.”
Swallowing around him, making him rock ever closer to you, you closed your eyes and took the plunge. He allowed you to set your own pace at the very least, making your descent upon him easier. Well, ‘descent’ being a lenient use of the term; you just bobbed on the tip, and while Ghost didn’t complain, he didn’t praise you, either.
“What, you shy or somethin’?” he said, brow creasing. You looked up at him, hoped that your anger could be felt - or couldn’t. Pleasure made your gaze indeterminate. The knot in his brow dissipated, and a look of revelation crossed his features. “Hold on,” he said, slow and intentional. “Are you new to this?” König stilled behind you, fingers ceasing to coax your cunt into weeping. You could feel him watching intently from behind.
With little to lose and your head hazy with fright, you nodded.
Both men were quiet. Ghost leaned around you, glancing at König. They spoke in their invisible language, unknown to anyone but them, unteachable but learnable.
Ghost’s gaze returned back to you, and he relinquished some of the pressure he was enforcing on the leash. “Oh, Love,” he began, voice softer than it had ever been, eyes half-lidded with what one could construe as concern. “Why didn’t you tell us before?” The question sounded interrogative enough that you felt compelled to answer, but given your position, you didn’t know what to say or how - or that you could, for that matter. You just stared with those same wide, pleading eyes.
Any concern Ghost’s face may have possessed evaporated before your eyes, and before you could even register the change, his grip returned and he slammed you down on his cock. You gagged, cried, eyes stinging with tears and your throat panging with Ghost’s brute force. He refused to relent, even as you began to cry, the pain easily making your situation that much more unbearable. He peeled you off his cock before piling into you again, and again, and again. Soon, he’d established the rhythm of a symphony you didn’t want to hear, the sound of his pre wet against your lips.
König groaned behind you, his fingers gripping your cheeks.
“Fuck – I can feel you taking him,” he said, breathy. He began pumping into you again, his hand remaining iron around your jaw, giving you no choice but to to keep taking Ghost. The dying heat in your centre re-ignited, much to your despair. You tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the fiery ache in your throat, but König just hit a spot in you that made your body want more, despite your mind’s resistance to the fog trying to settle over it. Ghost gave a sharp groan, panting, his thrusts becoming less coordinated, more frantic as his release came into sight. Your heart thudded in your chest, echoing as if it were contained in a steel chamber, adrenaline replacing your blood. The thought of biting him came into your mind, but the consequences that seemed to be your birthright overshadowed it, frightened it away.
You were struggling, twitching as you fought the urge to pull away, knowing either König or Ghost would shove you right back onto Ghost’s cock. Ghost held little regard for your struggling, instead making sure to keep slamming his tip against the back of your throat as if there was a prize for doing so, for bruising your voice and making it nigh-unusable. You were certain you could see him snarling beneath the mask as he forced you to take all of him, your nose pressed against the short, dark, curling hairs above his weapon.
Ghost pulled out, taking you by surprise, leaving you whining. He may have thought that you wanted more, but he didn’t act on it if he did. With a few more breathy, panting, groaning strokes, he came on your face, coating you. You gasped, tried backing up, but König held you in place, unrelenting as he continued to pound the shape of his hand into you. You heaved deep breaths, trying to regain the air König had knocked out of you and Ghost had stolen from you.
Your chest heaved, matching the exasperation of Ghost’s shoulders. König’s pumping fingers slowed, then came to a halt. The heat in your stomach died once more. You could feel how wet your backside was, cold as air hit it. Ghost’s cum dripped down your chin, into your open mouth and onto your chest. And Ghost watched, a feral gleam in his eye as white, milk tears gleamed upon your skin like pearls.
König seemed to care little for the haze Ghost had placed you in, inspecting Ghost’s cum as it dripped across his hand like a prostitute’s mascara, before trying to wipe it off. He dragged his palm across your cheek, gathering Ghost’s load and pressing it to your lips.
“Lick.” Was all he said. And you obliged, oversaturating your mouth with Ghost for the second time that night. And you looked up into Ghost’s eyes as you did this. They were hard, like he disagreed, yet he said nothing.
This was your chance, you were sure of it: get Ghost on-side by showing your loyalty to him - make him think you were on his team.
König’s hand came up to your mouth, wiping pearls from your lip. You let your tongue slip out. “My, my,” Konig said. “Eager, are we?” When he pressed his fingers into your mouth, you acted.
Your second mistake of the evening.
You bit down. A pitbull in force. Straddled his fingers with your teeth.
König yelled, his fingers dislodging from inside you. Everything happened in a flurry of moments; an avalanche of seconds colliding upon you as one rather than consecutive moments. “You fucking bitch!” König’s voice sounded as if it were underwater as he cursed at you. Less than a moment later, his hand found your face, smacking it, leaving a streak of your juices slashed across your cheek like blood. You were on your front before you could even make a noise, and a pair of hands forced your head into the bedsheets, suffocating you, disorienting you. You could feel how tangled your hair was, how matted with sweat and cum it had become.
Ghost’s hand tangled in your hair, tore you up from the sheets. He was not pleased. His eyes told you so.
König was somewhere behind you, though exactly where was unknown to you, which somehow made you feel worse than knowing he was there at all. Your heart pounded in your ears, blood pumping through you, a red ocean within your crust. You couldn’t hear much outside of your atmosphere. The bed remained dipped behind you. König remained behind you.
Your breath caught in your throat when a hand, thrice the size of your own, came down upon your head, pulling you back by your tresses. It wasn’t Ghost’s, for he abandoned you when his successor took charge. You thought your Eve’s apple would tear through your throat as your skin was stretched so finely. König’s eyes sent ice through you, yet you couldn’t even see them.
“You arrogant wench–” he said, voice close to your ear, hot and sibilant “--I’m going to make sure this really, really hurts.”
Once again, you were slammed onto your front, König’s hands dislodging from your scalp and relinquishing you to gravity. You began preparing yourself to fight back, preparing to take a life if they planned on taking yours. That was before something cool and thick pressed against your throat. And in an instant, everything changed.
You couldn’t swallow - couldn’t even think - as this object bore into you. Someone grabbed your hair from behind, yanking you up. That same person held the object, which, by the handle in your periphery, you saw was a knife. König’s knife.
“Going to have to domesticate this little bitch, show her who she belongs to.” König’s voice dripped, venomous. You fisted the sheets, tried to keep your tears a secret even to yourself, hoping you could channel some of the mortification brewing in you into the sheets.
“Now, König, don’t be too hasty.” Ghost said. “Don’t wanna be fucking a corpse now, do you?” Ghost was less the voice of reason here than of self-interest; he didn’t want to fuck your corpse. But König’s lack of input, his silent neutrality, made you think that he did. Or would. Oh god, what have I done–
König ground his stiff member against your raw flower, grunting when he caught himself on your hole. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to keep your pained mewls from leaking out. You knew you had no right to - you knew they wouldn’t listen. Yet it came out anyway; a request, nothing more. Meek as the woman it tumbled from.
“Dont, please,”
Ghost and König stilled.
“Say that again.” König said. You couldn’t tell if it was a demand or a challenge, but you complied regardless.
“Please, please don’t. I-I’ve never–” “What? What haven’t you done?” König’s voice made you tense every time you heard it, especially now as he held your life in his hands. You swallowed shallowly around the blade. You closed your eyes, squoze them tight.
“I’ve never done this before.”
Another bout of silence. Then, an arrow of laughter pierced it.
“Aww, are you a virgin, Darling?” König’s use of the petname evoked a primal despair from within you. You were surprised you hadn’t begun to shake with fear. When you didn’t answer quickly enough, König’s hand released your hair and found your cunt and slapped it. You yelped, trying not to decapitate yourself on the blade as König’sstrength propelled you forward, your lips sensitive from his prior assault.
“We’ll take good care of you,” came Ghost, who seemed less willing to adopt König’s sarcasm; perhaps only because you hadn’t wronged him the way you had König. Even then, you had no doubt he would treat you as if you had.
“Though, nobody’s ever gonna want you after tonight,” Ghost said. “We promise you that.”
“And all because you wanted to act like an animal.” König offered no respite, a thin smile in his voice.
Your heart sank ever lower as all you could do was listen and accept what they were telling you - accept your fate. You hadn’t wanted to admit to yourself that you’d really hoped they - or at the very least Ghost - would take care of you. Perhaps before, but not now. Not after you’d resisted.
“Can’t believe no one else’s ever claimed this cunt.” A twinge of surprise, perhaps even morbid curiosity, spiked König’s tone. Yet you gave him no answer, no resolve to his curiosity. You remained a statue.
“You wanna take her?” Ghost asked. The fact they spoke of you as if you weren’t even there made you feel oddly hurt. But what were they going to do, realistically? Ask your permission?
“You chose her, you take her.” Konig handed Ghost the knife.
“You sure?” Ghost said. “After what she did to you, I thought you’d–” “Fuck her while she’s still tight, Ghost.” König’s tone was rocky, monotone with rubble anger spiking it. “Because I promise you, she won’t be worth your while after I’m done with her.”
Chose her -  after I’m done with her - your stomach turned. This entire attack had been completely coincidental. It could have easily been anyone else, someone you had no idea existed. And yet the gods brought them to you.
The bed dipped as Ghost came behind you. He took your chain leash, letting it mould back against his skin as if it were an extension of his limb, and pulled it taught against your throat. On your other end, he proposed the tip of his cock to your lips, and you tensed. Your body near forced him out, refusing to take any of his length. Ghost scowled, pushed you down further into the bedsheets, keeping you still. He spread your lips with his fingers, and, within an instant, forced himself inside. You gasped, letting out a silent cry into the duvet. The knife wedged against your throat, a reminder. Ghost released a strangled groan, your cunt squeezing his tip.
“Christ,” he breathed, “so fuckin’ tight,” His grip on the handle tightened. His thighs were pressed against your own, rubbing your raw skin, making your backside erupt in agony. You only choked on a sob, begging and praying to any god that may have been listening to make it stop. 
Ghost took a breath, and you braced yourself. He pressed, pushed further inside, releasing guttural grunts as he forced another inch into you. Your resolve was cracking like glass beneath a great weight; you knew it would shatter. You knew you were shattering.
“Come on, (Y/N),” he said, your voice rolling off his tongue as he’d roll it against your cunt. “You can do it - you can take me.” His voice was breathy, yet there was sincerity there. He was giving you the opportunity for you to show some initiative before he took it from you. Giving you the illusion of choice.
For your sake, you tried to relax, tried to ignore the heavy, throbbing mass your cunt was reluctantly swallowing - more so choking on. That, and the knife tucked against your neck. You willed yourself to relax as best you could. Feeling your walls loosening, Ghost slammed the rest of his length into you. And you moaned. Loudly.
You hadn’t meant to, and it was not one of pleasure, more shock. It just came out, and it hung in the air like a curse. Or a blessing.
“Looks like our pretty little pet isn’t as resistant as she thought,” König said, a mocking, sly tone to his voice. Beneath a heavy gaze, you looked at him as best you could, without slitting your throat on the blade, trying to muster as much of a scowl as you were able. You assumed that, with Ghost behind you, he would protect you from König’s wrath until his turn was finished. Your third mistake of the evening.
König’s face shifted, and the light crinkle around his eyes dropped, leaving him almost expressionless, though you could only feel this change, not see it.
“You think you can mock me, girl?” He said. He glowered over you, looking down at you.
You didn’t answer, throat rough and dry from your crying, and your fatigue slowing your cognition. That, and your complete unwillingness to give König the satisfaction of your distress. König said nothing as he took your silent answer. Instead, he neared your compromised form, bent at the waist, completely exposed. You felt the bed dip, closer now.
I’m sorry, you wanted to say - plead. You wanted to rectify your error, to undo whatever awful plan you’d just put into motion. Not that König would care, though.
His presence seemed to materialise behind you, and you felt Ghost shuffle sideways. Then, he spread your lips.
Oh no.
Before you could scream out, apologise – do anything – König  was pressing the tip of his cock to your already stuffed hole, making you cower. A million ways to be injured by what König was planning to do shot through your head. Even just one of them would make a traumatising story to tell at the doctor’s office, never mind be excruciating.
“I was going to be lenient. To let you take us one at a time.” He huffed, euphoria shooting down his cock.”But seeing as you seem to have the intelligence of an animal, I’m going to treat you like one.” His hand came to grip your waist, unrelenting. “Let’s see how well you can mock this, Kitty.” Königs accented voice sent electricity shooting to your core. He spat on your cunt and pressed forward.
Both men were thick and long - enough so that you could just about take one of them. But now with two of them trying to skewer you, you were sure you’d sooner pass out. Your cunt throbbed, screaming for a moment of release as you failed to adjust to two of them. König grunted, breath shuttering, as he managed to wedge the tip in, making you ache, made you feel more exposed than you already were.
“What? Got n-nothing to say, Kitty?” König said. He stroked your lips with thick, rough fingers. You gave no indication of a response, being caught in your throat alongside your sobs. König let out a hum of a laugh.
He forced himself further inside, and you squeezed your eyes shut, tears streaming down your cheeks and into the duvet. Ghost groaned at the friction, pulling tighter on your leash. 
“God, so fuckin’ small–” his voice drew thinner than before, less certain. He made an attempt at comfort, at love. He ran a hand against your backside, squeezing it. König moved, the beginnings of a thrust. Ghost gave protest, though not on your behalf. “Watch out,” he said, warning. “Don’t wanna finish in her just yet.”
König gave a hum, an underdeveloped laugh. “Hm, good thinking.”
It took a lot of effort, but, after brute forcing his way inside, König was balls-deep within you in a matter of minutes, breathing heavily and ready to burst at any second. Your walls crushed him - both of them - drawing a guttural moan that sounded too human to belong to either when they rutted into you, unable to resist the morsels of euphoria your body submitted to them.You heaved laboured breaths against the bedsheets, body ready to give out at any second.
“Ready?” König said, aiming at Ghost. Ghost, presumably, nodded, and the two began to pump into you.
When one pulled out, the other plunged. That was the system. The room filled with the grotesque symphony of skin slapping against skin, of König’s rising moans, Ghost’s groans, of your body’s liquids making their assault on you easier, almost inviting them in. Something thick and viscous rolled down your thighs, and you couldn’t have known whose body it initially came from. You couldn’t admit that they way they battered your insides, hit your cervix, made pleasure rupture in your core, made you buzz and tingle in places you didn’t want to.
Their balls smacked the sensitive skin of your flower red, almost raw. Just as unrelenting as the men you belonged to.
König was notably rougher than Ghost, his cock seeming to pummel you at twice the speed, making sure to catch you where it hurt. Whenever you sobbed, he smirked and made sure to hit that same spot again. And again. And again.
With both of their instruments inside you, you knew your stomach was bulging in one form or another. And, in a bid to satiate your curiosity, or to confirm that what was happening to you was indeed real, you slid your hand up to your stomach, pressing your palm against your skin.
They were massive. They both made a noise of mock protest. Ghost grabbed your hair.
“Do that again,” he said, breath laboured and wavering in time with him bounding you on his cock. He pressed the flat edge of the weapon to your apple, tightened his grip on your strands, letting you know it wasn’t a choice.
With little room to refuse, and Ghost’s threatening grip on your hair and the knife, you obliged, pressing your palm flat against the outline in your stomach which you recognised as Ghost’s. He gave the slightest of moans and relented, letting your hair go and trailing his hand to rest on the small of your back, as if he expected to feel the silhouette of his cock there, too.
“Good girl,” he panted. “Very good girl.”
Perhaps minutes passed, perhaps an eternity. The only mark of time having passed at all was the electric rope in your core tightening, and the inevitable undoing of your captors.
“Fuck– I– I’m close,” König said, his pace quickening, hips stuttering. They grew out of sync, pounding into you two at a time, spreading your walls wider, deeper.
“Yeah, me–e too,”
The realisation of what they were planning to do settled in.
“No, stop–” Your pleas fell on deaf ears, neither of the men even poised to discipline you, too lost in their bid for release to spare you even a glance.
“König, Ghost, please–” you gasped as Ghost hit your sweet spot, eliciting a moan from you.
“I heard that female orgasms increase the chances of impregnation,” he said between breaths. You could just feel him staring down at you. König, too, no doubt smiling that sly smile of his. He existed only to torture you. “Let’s test that theory.”
You tried pulling away - a futile effort, really. König just pulled you right back, impaling you back on his dick and drawing a moan from him, a sob from you.
With the last of their resolve, they pummeled into you. And, with a choked moan, your stomach spasmed, your muscles burning, tightening. Your orgasm tore through you, a hurricane of blood, sweat and tears on the populus of your body. You wailed into the sheets, your walls trapping your attackers inside you. Both men finished, a sirenic, low moan leaving König, and a savage, territorial growl coming from Ghost. One after the other, they burst inside you, loads thick and heavy, flooding you with a warmth you didn’t want. And because you were angled so - with your backside practically vertical to your head, you could feel it running down into the deepest areas of yourself, gravity only aiding in its aim.
You gave one last attempt to break free - to stop the inevitable - but it was of no use. Ghost had you at the mercy of the leash, releasing himself inside you, spurts of his white hot cum claiming every inch of you as his own. König’s seed ran like lava, burning you up, scorching paths into you, scarring you with his actions. You had no choice but to take it, to feel your future slipping away from you as both of these men bound you with their offspring, their cum overflowing within you and oozing from your lips, rolling down your thighs. You gasped when König scooped the remnants of Ghost and himself and plunged them back inside. “Better plug her,” he said to Ghost, who you felt liberate your throat of the knife, detach, and slip out from you, leaving you cold in his absence. König still inside you, you tried to break away, to pull yourself from him, but he gripped you by the shoulders and slammed you right back down on him. And he didn’t stop. In Ghost’s departure, he crushed his hips against your backside, making sure he hit your skin where it was most sensitive. You stifled your hisses, your moaning cries. Not only did your backside and thighs hurt, but your prize, too, ebbing and drooling with their seed. König eased up only to lean down, pressed against you. He lifted his veil, placed his lips on your shoulder. 
“No better expression suits you more than pain, my dear,” he said, voice low, though it was unlikely he was keeping this a secret from Ghost. “And I will force you to wear it until you’re stuffed so full of my cum that you look pregnant.” Proving his point, he thrusted against you, thighs slapping against your own. You choked on a cry. “Understood?”
With what little will you had left, you nodded.
And then he sank his teeth into you.
You screamed into the bedsheets, König’s force being nothing near that of a love bite and rather a gouge. Only when he was satisfied, when the wound was a half inch or so deep, did he retract. His veil remained hiked above his nose, and, luckily for you, you couldn’t see the blood dripping from his teeth, staining his lips and his tongue as he licked it from the outskirts of his mouth, and, when he descended again, your shoulder. He gave low, panting moans, the taste of your metal dancing on his tongue. You felt warmth trickle from your shoulder, heard it drip onto the sheets. Ghost returned, to which König, parting from your skin, muttered a “Perfect,” before he pulled out, the sound of your drenched bodies slickened in parting making your stomach turn. Before you could even make a noise of relief or protest, something large and round and cold - unused - was slipped inside you. You grimaced at the feeling, shivering. You dared to turn and face König and Ghost, who only admired the view of you. Their eyes gleamed, primal - filled with authority and the need to breed you.
Without thought, you reached behind to feel what was inside you, wincing when shards of pain shot down your arm from your shoulder. And you were swiftly rewarded with a hand gripping your wrist, twisting it in such a way that was distinctly militarian. Utilitarian. Made to disarm. You barely contained a yelp.
“Not yet, Princess,” Ghost said. A thumb smoothed over your aching wrist, as if it didn’t belong to the hand that was causing your suffererance. Ghost’s grip on your wrist loosened. Your breath remained uneven.
Before you could say or do anything more, you felt König press his knife to your throat, a ritual you’d grown accustomed yet not comfortable to, flushing the barely-blunted edge to your Eve’s apple. You could see him smile beneath the mask, eyes crinkling. Ghost loomed over the two of you, ever the shadow he was born to be, eyes glinting as he watched you.
“Now, if you behave for us—“
“And be a good little girl—“
“We won’t be forced to use this,” König punctuated his point with a flash of the knife against your skin. 
“Or this.” Ghost retrieved the lighter, catching its silver body in the light, glinting in your eyes.
You swallowed — shallowly — your throat bobbing against the blade, just shy of impaling itself upon its metal body. When you gave no sign of resistance, König lowered himself between your legs, his great arms bulging, veins carving across muscle, county lines on a country of a man.
All the while, your shoulder bled, jagged blood lines webbing down your chest, racing.
Ghost stroked himself, lacking the timidity of a man whose body admitted this was his first time doing anything like this, yet deficient of the depravity to give it his all. He was saving himself - his release - for something else.
König pressed his thighs up against the back of your own, his aching cock pulsing against your abused core. Even the mere implication of what he was going to do with it made you ache and throb, more so than you already were. His body was scorching behind you, burning you.
Though, with your cunt plugged, you wondered what they could possibly be planning on doing with you now. Unless…
Ghost resided close by, watching König manhandle you.
König brought a strong hand around your jaw and pulled you so that your back was flush against his chest, his heart, which hammered like a chisel into your back. Yet his heart did not thunder out of fear.
Saliva pooled in your throat, and you swallowed against the blade, heart spiking as your skin forfeited itself to the cold metal. König rolled against you, as if trying to fit the shape of your curvature. He grunted when his dick was caught between your soft cheeks.
“Now,” he said, breath shuttering, “do exactly as I say and I’ll let you live.”
Electricity shot down every nerve that wasn’t already fried, your throat grew drier and your heart leapt. You could feel sweat pouring from your every pore, making you feel sticky, adhesive; trying to keep König attached to you.
König yanked you, making you wince, and forced you to face Ghost. Ghost still stroked himself, though with more frevour now, staring you dead in the eyes as he did so. His unwavering gaze made your face burn, caused you to try to cover yourself - only for König to press the expanse of the knife to your throat once more.
“Don’t.”
And with that said, you let your hands drop to your sides, swaying as you relinquished control of your body to König. Your eyes rested on the bedsheets, Ghost lingering in the corners of your vision. Until he came to the forefront, steps thunderous, waves crashing together in a roaring sea. He took your jaw in his hand and made you look up at him. Your neck panged, sore.
“Rather disobedient tonight, aren’t you.” he said. Merely a fact, not a debate. The feeling of König’s knife and Ghost’s hand in such close proximity felt more dangerous than if it were either alone.
When you didn’t answer, instead staring up at Ghost glassy-eyed, he sighed. Or laughed. He released your jaw, letting you retract, and trailed his fingers to the side of your head. He took a lock of hair between his fingers and released himself with his other hand, reaching for his lighter.
“What are you doing?” You asked, tone belying the terror which resided beneath. Barely. You tried to pull back, but König’s weight made it impossible. He was a wall, no more human than a brick, yet possessing the monstrosity of a Bible’s worth of demons. And Ghost was no different.
Ghost said nothing as he flipped the lid and flicked the flame into being. When you refused to offer yourself, König forced you forward, leaning over your shoulder, your throbbing, burning bleeding shoulder, watching the spectacle.
Your eyes widened, remnant tears falling, and looked up at Ghost. There was a smirk beneath his mask, you just couldn’t see it. It existed in feeling, the rarest, most difficult universal language to learn, let alone master.
Ghost brought the flame to the tips of your hair. You shrieked, tried backing away again, but to no avail. The flame consumed the strands bunched between Ghost’s fingers, and an image that sent cold dread washing over you flashed behind your eyes. You, on fire, with nobody around to help.
You were going to die.
The flame consumed your strands, voracious in its pursuit as it left blackened, frail, curled hairs in its wake.
Before the flame reached your head, Ghost lifted his mask and wet his fingers with his tongue, putting the flame out between them. Your body remained still. Paralysed. The image remained, and you hadn’t realised it had not come to pass.
“If you talk back to us again, I’ll let the flame burn your skin next time.” Ghost’s head tilted, taking in your petrification. “Understand?”
Breaking from your haze, you looked up at Ghost, tearful. You nodded. His eyes crinkled.
“Good.”
He closed the lighter and discarded it. The knife had not been removed from the equation, however. It rested in König’s hand.
Ghost made a gesture to König, who tugged you back into his arms. Ghost joined you, coming to sit beside König, behind you.
Ghost’s length was already coated in pre and your own fluids, albeit some had crusted, making it easy for him to slip in and out, especially considering how wet you’d become, how much of a mess they’d made of you. Ghost imparted himself unto you, pressing the head of his cock against your puckered hole, nudging his way in. You braced yourself, tried to relax so he could finish and bring an end to this trial of your ordeal.
Seeing Ghost already indulging in your torture, König joined, doing away with his restraint. Dissatisfied with the prospect of merely touching himself. He brought the head of his cock to your hole. Ghost growled, but König didn’t move. In fact, slipping a hand across your stomach, he slammed into you.
You gasped, the air knocked out of your lungs. Ghost, now no longer afforded the time to take his own, laced his fingers into your hair and forced his length into you, gripping your head. “Easy, Princess,” he said, voice low, breath shuttering as the friction from your tight walls and Konig’s cock. It became a competition, one he was determined to win.
König caught his breath, still adjusting to his cock being deliciously squeezed between you and Ghost, pressing his hand to your stomach.
“I can feel myself inside you,” he breathed. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to where his had been. And you felt him.
For the second time that night, you felt König’s dick impaling you. You almost wept.
“Stop distractin’ her,” Ghost intervened, stroking your hair. You winced, cautious.
König made no protests, and Ghost began his pace. He started off slow, more for his benefit than yours, and slipped an inch or so deeper into the chasm of your asshole each time. And you could do nothing but take it - take him - and try not to cry or moan every time he hit a sensitive spot.
König, seemingly having released his earlier grudge, was slower with you, too. He fed himself into you, inch by inch, enthralled by the image of your hole stretched over both of them, bursting as your body grappled with the weight forming in your lower half.
Their pace wasn’t in time with the other as it had been earlier; it was uncoordinated, softer in one aspect and rougher in another - it was purely and unequivocally the pursuit of their own pleasure as their earlier displays had been. Yet, there was some consideration there in the way that König’s head fell to the crook of your neck, resting there as his hand smoothed over your front, over himself sheathed inside you. The way he whispered “Good girl,” into your ear, so quiet the words almost caught in the fabric of his mask. The knife remained, though. In the periphery, on the edge of the bed. Neither here nor there.
Meanwhile, Ghost’s breathing grew shallow, shorter, with every stroke of his cock and the slap of his balls against your raw backside, breath hitching when he hit a sweet spot. König aided him, digging his fingers into your stomach where Ghost’s cock  pounded you, forcing Ghost to give out a surprised moan. His grip on your hair softened, only there to guide you now rather than to discipline. When you clenched around him, an involuntary tensing of your body, he gave a low moan.
Your body ached, and so did your insides. 
A vague, wilted bloom of pleasure persisted below your stomach, though it wasn’t electric. Rather, your body’s exhausted, half-hearted attempt at quelling the hopelessness of your situation by trying to get something out of it. It began in your centre, the lovechild of König and Ghost’s incessant pounding and moaning, and the prospect of your future with them; the future that sloshed around inside you with every thrust, plugged, sealed. Promised.
After what was less than an eternity yet more than mere minutes, König finished, releasing a battlecry of a moan, his body seizing up as his release rippled through him. He continued to roll into you, though subdued. His cum reached deep within you, you being vertical again. He pressed a single kiss to your shoulder through his mask, his breath almost felt through the veil against your skin.
Ghost followed shortly after, throwing his head back and groaning your name into the confines of his mask, warm, thick ropes of his cum painting the inside of your ass white. You could feel how thick he was inside you, like a web. A trap.
Through half-lidded, hazy eyes, Ghost looked down at you. He perhaps smiled, having outlasted König, won, and petted your head - your hair. He pulled out. “Took us so well.” His voice was drunk, soaked in lust. “Good girl.”
You dared to wonder if that was the only name they knew for you, if they’d forgotten your true name already.
König pulled out of you, and, in a turn of events, shifted from behind you and brought you into his arms. He pressed you into the bedsheets - into the pillows - your arms raised above your head. To sleep–perchance to dream - of a reality where you remained unsullied and unused by two men who were strangers to you.
He reached beneath the bed - a cove of wonder, at this stage - and withdrew a plug. You didn’t fight him off as he plunged it into you, marveling at the bulge in your stomach, the shape of your future.
Bound by the belt and gagged by your own fear, you watched - felt - Ghost sink down on top of you, half-hard cock resting on your stomach, heavy, like a statement. He made sure not to squeeze the mound in your middle, rather taking to admiring it. Without taking his eyes off you, he reached behind him, clicked his fingers, and König brought him a candle and his discarded lighter. He lit the candle and held it over you. The flame danced in his eyes, wavered. He put it on the bedside, taking your breasts in his calloused hands as it burned in your periphery.
“Won’t be long now,” he said, and you couldn’t tell if it was directed at you or König. Königanswered, knowing infinitely more than you. He looked down at you, an uncharacteristic fondness growing in his eyes.
“You’re right,” he said. He brushed a sweat-sodden, stray lock of hair from your eyes. “Not long at all.”
“You’ll be bursting with our offspring in no time, Love.” Your heart stopped. Despite the sentiment in his eyes, you failed to feel the warmth he was trying to project - the heat radiating from his hands at either side of your head. Your blood ran cold.
“Why…” your voice caught in your throat, and you looked away. You didn’t want to speak out of turn. Not again.
Ghost and König’s head tilted. Had the situation not been so dire, you may have found it endearing.
“Go on.” Ghost’s voice was monotone, yet curiosity danced within it. The candle continued to burn.
You sniffed, swallowed, tried not to think of everything, tried not to burst out crying. You looked up into Ghost’s blackened eyes. Something initial and unreadable slumbered there.
“Why me?”
Ghost backed up, peeling his eyes off you and looking to König, who only mirrored his expression.
“Why–” you sobbed, breath hitching, “--Why did you choose me?”
“Oh, Darlin’...” Ghost sighed. He brought a hand to your cheek, and you winced. Something almost blue, sorrowful, shimmered in his eyes. He cupped your cheek, his hand a hammock for your megrim, splitting head, the thoughts that bundled and overflowed from within.
“We…we chose you because…” Ghost looked to König, who gave a shallow nod. Confirmation. “We chose you because we–”
“You’re the most beautiful girl we’ve ever seen.”
At König’s interruption, Ghost’s eyes widened fractionally, yet agreement nestled between both men, just as you were pinned beneath Ghost. Said man’s attention returned back to you and your teary eyes.
“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” he said, wiping a lone tear from your cheek with his thumb. “We’ve seen how you are with your friends, your family. Strangers. You…really seem to care about them.”
Had you not been exhausted, you’d have questioned the pair (or perhaps not) about when - how - they’d seen you before this encounter. Then again, even in this state, the implication weighed heavy on you.
Yet, another bloomed inside you, one you detested; the forewarnings and warmth of flattery, the timid fluttering in your chest, a single butterfly, straying from its kaleidoscope. The snowflake before the avalanche.
Tears slipped from the outer corners of your eyes, and Ghost caught every one of them. Lifting the bottom of his mask, he kissed them away, leading salty trails from your eyes to the corners of your lips, where, upon his falterance, he pressed his lips to yours. Despite the entirety of the evening, it was chaste, concerned only with you. Ghost pressed you further into the covers, taking you deeper, his lips beginning to move against yours. You didn’t return it. But he didn’t seem to mind.
Parting, Ghost’s cheeks - or that which you could see of them - were pink, flushed with the beginnings of abashment. He panted quietly, looking down at you, regarding you as if you were the only person in all the world. And he gave you his parting word.
“I can think of no one better to bear my offspring than you.”
König watched, a flash of envy’s serpentine robe dancing behind his eyes, here one moment and gone the next. He placed a hand on Ghost’s shoulder.
“The candle,” was all he said. Ghost gave minimal response and reached for the burning length of wax on the bedside. It wavered, then flickered out of mortal existence when Ghost snuffed it out, lowering his mask and returning to anonymity after the fact.
Your stare flicked between Ghost, König, and the candle. Ghost pressed down - or rather, rested his full weight on - the bottom of your stomach, squeezing the breath out of you, making you fold. Something trickled from your plugged cunt, forced out under Ghost’s weight. Ghost placed a hand on your chest and pushed you back down.
You could smell the candle’s perfume as Ghost tipped it, hot, running wax bleeding over its lip and directly onto your nipple. Your gasped, nay, shrieked, König muffling your cry with his hand. It burned, ebbed. Throbbed. The sensitive, erect skin tingled as the wax settled, hardening. Trapping it.
“Shh, Princess,” Ghost said, smoothing a hand over your hair, looking past the tears welling in your eyes. “It’s alright.”
No it’s not! you wanted to say, to scream from the rooftops. But no-one could hear you now. You could only swallow and endure.
Ghost’s hand trailed from your hair to your breast, which he kneaded with a softness foreign to this night. His eyes glimmered with something incomprehensible as he all but bore down on you. You hated to admit it, but he seemed tender, which, combined with his gentle massaging, made the space between your legs feel warm with a subdued current, the hair raises before lightning strikes.
And that tenderness ran concurrent with his cruelty. For just a moment later, he poured hot wax onto your other nipple, now having coated both in a red, hardening shield. You cried against and into König’s hand, which he kept firmly against your lips. He ran his other hand through your hair, emulating the soothing cycle of comfort he’d only ever seen, not enacted.
Ghost discarded the candle on the bedside table and cupped your other breast with his now-free hand, leaning down to press kisses to the valley between the two. They started out as gentle, yet firm, chasing away your fresh tears and seeming to ease enough of your tension that König no longer saw the need to keep you quiet, instead resting his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them. Or keeping you pinned.
Ghost’s kisses trailed down beneath your breasts, lapping at their underside with a slow tongue. You shuddered under his touch, his watch. He veered off to one breast and, without warning, engulfed your wax-coated nipple with his mouth, peeling the wax off with his teeth. You nearly gasped as cold air rushed to the sensitive bud, repeating the process with the other nipple as Ghost peeled the wax from it, leaving you feeling more exposed - raw.
He gave you no time to adjust to this feeling - as if a layer of your skin had been shed -  before he took one of your buds in his mouth and sucked. Hard.
Your body convulsed, your sensitivity making Ghost’s actions nigh-unbearable, making you mewl. In spite of that, it felt…good. It sent a shock of electricity to your clit, making you tingle and writhe. You resisted the urge to rock yourself against Ghost’s hips as he remained nestled atop your thighs. König’s hand slithered down to your chest to keep you still. Ghost stuffed his mouth with your breast, and for a second - a split moment in history - you wondered, considered, if he’d choke on it, if he’d be okay.
He erased the doubt from your mind, voice loud and clear as day.
“Can’t wait ‘til you’re pregnant,” he said. He spared you a glance, peering up from beneath the shadows of his mask. “‘Nd I get to suck you dry; milk you like the whore you are.”
König made a noise of agreement. “Pretty little bitch, only good for breeding and fucking.”
“And trust me, Darlin’,” Ghost rasped, panting lightly as he pulled away. “You’ll never go a day where you’re not full.”
Proving his point, Ghost retracted, his cock catching on your clit, trailing to your hole. The implication alone made you clench, and, for a second, you wanted to believe that it was because your body didn’t want him - want them - and was trying to keep them out. On the contrary. It was practicing to keep them in.
“No-one will ever want you when we’re done with you.” König seethed, eyes dark behind the shadow of the mask. “There won’t be another thought behind those eyes, except of us.” 
You sobbed - mourned - for yourself. For the future they were both robbing from you and holding hostage, with your demise nestled snugly within the memory of that camera, and the child you were surely carrying now, stomach bulging with the makings of it; symbolic. Ghost brought the knife against your cheek, having obtained it during your distress, dragging the blunted edge across your skin. 
“We’ll mark you up so good that no man will ever even look at you.” Ghost tilted you to face him with the knife, dead stare penetrating you, making you feel cold. 
“Now, Princess–” König’s voice boomed, making you jump - arch - against Ghost’s chest. “Touch yourself.”
The command was foreign to you, completely alien. You almost asked him to repeat it for fear of not having heard him correctly. He looked at you - looked down at you - with a half-lidded stare. Condescending.
When you didn’t move, Ghost brought the knife to your thigh and nicked it, once, twice, making you yelp, spasm on instinct. And when you failed to answer again, in the half a second they spared you, he made a long cut along the inside of your soft thigh. The wounds were red, doubtless already bleeding. They stung, reminded you of their brutality. Reminded you of the gouge on your shoulder.
“Didn’t you fucking hear me?” König spat. You flinched, back into the bed. Again, when you made no move to act, Ghost slid from your thighs and forced you up onto your knees, slipping behind you, holding the knife to your throat. An arm slithered around your waist and held you there, his hand caressing your swollen stomach as it slithered past. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to sooth you or prevent you from fleeing.
König took a step towards you, and Ghost had to hold you down to stop you from jumping. He held up a hand to König, who stepped back. His aura strangled you, let you know that he was far from pleased. You swallowed, and Ghost leaned down and whispered in your ear. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll help you.”
He took your hand in his, and, like a puppet master controlling his creation, he slid your hand down to your cunt, ticklish (or just uncomfortable) with a foreign object disguised as your own trying to near it. The camera didn’t help, either, reminding you that everything was on the line.
You steeled yourself, tried thinking of anything else other than the situation. Ghost’s hardened musculature digging into your back, the feeling of his fingers encircling your clit, making you gasp and recoil, fleeing from one evil to another. Ghost sighed into you, rutted his hips against your back. Something almost sharp was beginning to dig into the dimple of your back, and despite knowing what it was, you pretended not to. Anything to make this situation less traumatic - embarrassing - for you than it already was.
Luckily, the pleasure welling in your core as Ghost pressed against your clit almost helped you forget that he was not, in fact, a heartless criminal - one of two whose only goal it seemed to rob you of your life, though not to be as merciful as to kill you, rather to hold your very existence captive.
Before you could begin to enjoy the cord tightening in your centre, Ghost’s fingers crept from your clit to the plug in your pussy. He slipped it out with a pop and grasped your hand, bringing it to your now leaking cunt. He pressed - forced - your fingers against them, slipping past your slick folds and inside you. Or, at least tried to.
Your walls clamped down, allowing nobody - not even yourself - inside. You’d have been relieved of this had this not been Ghost and König you were dealing with. Upon discovering your resistance, Ghost sighed quietly. “Relax,” he told you. “It’s okay. ‘T’s just me.”
And that’s supposed to make me feel better? You thought.
Ghost may have sensed how you tightened up even more. And he hadn’t the patience to humour you. Shedding your fingers, he spread your lips with his own, sinking one inside you, testing you. You remained firmly shut, a vault to which no one had the combination. But Simon had a bomb. And very, very little patience.
“Fine, then,” he said. “If you wanna play this the hard way, we’ll play.”
Without patience, he pried his fingers into you, painfully so, as he fought with your body’s natural response. Observing the scene, König began stroking himself, watching your eyes screw shut and your toes curl, the epitome of a pain.
“Ghost,” you breathed, “please, stop–”
“Silence.” König demanded, staring you dead in the eyes. In that moment of distraction, Ghost’s fingers ploughed their way into you. You cried out, the intrusion making your walls ache. Ghost kept you flush against his chest, caging you between his thighs, keeping you obedient with a roll against your clit and the bloodied knife to your collar, dragging it.
König’s stare did little to relax you, but Ghost’s movements against the bundle of nerves between your legs made your walls flutter, the ache recede. You leaned your weight into him, and you could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, his scorching skin against yours, melting into you.
Your eyes fluttered shut and hesitant, shy moans escaped between your gasping lips, to which Ghost praised you, calling you his “Good girl,” and pressing a masked kiss to your injured shoulder, making you flinch and staining the teeth of his mask red. Ruby tooth, infinitely more valuable than gold. Soon enough, soft, slick sounds filled the small room. Your cheeks bloomed with embarrassment, then paled as you remembered the camera immortalising your ordeal. Your walls tightened, chest beginning to stir with panic, but Ghost only whispered reassurances into your ear.
“This is for our eyes only,” he promised, as if he could hear your thoughts. And, though you couldn’t see it, his eyes reflected truth, honesty. As to whether König would adhere to such a sentiment was beyond you, yet he didn’t rebuke Ghost’s assurances. He pumped himself harder, faster, his breaths becoming deeper, heavier, an anchor dropped into an ocean.
You didn’t want the electric anticipation blooming in your core. You didn’t want Ghost’s thick fingers bringing you to your undoing. Yet here you were, whining and whimpering for the very man who’d forced himself on you, his other half watching nearby. You thought of how unfair it was - how easy it was for those two to get off while they left you pumped full of them with little in return, save for this forced euphoria. Then, as always, logic chased your misplaced agonies away, trying to remind you of the bigger picture; the fact that these men had been inside you at all.
Your stomach clenched as Ghost, now three fingers and knuckle-deep inside you, hit your sweet spot, making you moan, your back arch. Your skin peeled from his, sweat-sodden and sticky. You wanted to hold out, to refuse König and Ghost the satisfaction of having an orgasm ripped out of you. Ghost gave a rasp of a laugh, his broad chest ever a reminder of your lack of escape.
“Nearly there, Princess,” he said. “Just a little more for Daddy.”
At that, you couldn’t hold it anymore. You gave a wanton, loud moan, the call of a dying god, core spasming, euphoria shooting to each corner of your body and rendering you spent. You lay against Ghost, eyes half-lidded, muscles tingling as you relaxed, body practically on fire as you came down from your high. All the while, Ghost kept rolling his thumb against your clit, pumping his fingers into you at a subdued pace. He was waiting, like a shark circling blood. Your hazy mind couldn’t fathom what.
Breathing heavily, you wanted sleep to overcome you, to free you of this torture - this forced ‘pleasure’. And yet, your captors had other plans.
Practically tranquilised, Ghost pushed you onto your front, flipping you over so you could see the ceiling. He slid his fingers out of you, the wetness of his hand retracting from your pussy heard by all of you. König came into view above you, watching you. Observing you.
“Gotta act quick if you want to make sure she feels it.” Ghost said to his partner, not even sparing you another glance. He was occupied with watching your slick string and drip from his hand. König nodded and, with Ghost retracted from between your legs. Your heart spiked, thrumming in your chest, as you came to realise what they were doing. You almost reached out for him, begged for him to take you instead of König.
“No–!” Your rasping voice was cut off with a sharp slap, König having taken residence between your legs, the side of your face stinging, his hand imprinted there.
Still sensitive from your orgasm, you were hyper-aware of König’s coated length prodding against your puffed lips, from which you tried to retreat. Your energy depleted, you could only crawl an inch or two from König until he grabbed your knees and dragged you right back, bumping you against his rock-hard cock and making you cry out.
He didn’t let you get away again, instead calling you a “Spoiled brat,” and, almost as punishment, shoved his entire length into you with neither ceremony, nor courtesy. You screamed. Really screamed. The tip of König’s dick hit something inside you that shouldn’t have been accessible to him, burning your walls on the way, making them sear with agony. You felt tears burn your throat, collect in your eyes. Ghost shushed you, placing a hand on your thigh and squeezing it.
He still didn’t speak to you, though.
“I warmed her up,” he said, turning to König. “I get to take her from the front.” His tone was absolute; this was not up for discussion.
König sighed, debating, then withdrew, cursing as he did so. You gasped, cold air hitting you, filling you. Not long after, Ghost settled where König had been, his associate coming to your other side. Ghost hoisted you up against his chest, your head lolling on his shoulder. König, now behind you, reached down and drew your slick down to your other hole, and it was in that second that a terror-filled epiphany hit you. And you couldn’t escape it.
Ghost wrapped your legs around his waist, your bound arms behind his head, his cock sat at your lips, the tip just barely pushing in. You choked back a sob, feeling König’s tip poking your other hole. The fact that you were sandwiched between the two - fully able to see what they were doing and how they looked doing it - made you sick. And it was in this position that you saw the blinking red light of the camera stood on the dresser, capturing all of it.
Ghost nudged the first couple of inches in, eyes squeezing shut as he did, breath wavering. Given how he took you from the front, he could feel his bulging cock in your stomach, against his front. He hit a part of you that had, miraculously, been spared thus far of much injury. Not for long, though. Ghost’s breathing shuttered, and, in his moment of stillness, König began pushing into you. His chest was broad against your back, giving you no means of escape.
This was different from before - different from when they’d both taken a single hole, filling you until you thought you’d tear. You felt middled - muddled - felt like a plug socket.
König made a sound of labour as he inched his way inside you, forcing your tight hole to take more of him. Your stomach was already swelling with half of Ghost’s length inside you, and now König’s mass only caused the mound in your stomach to grow. You dug your nails into Ghost’s hair, his scalp, the only thing you could grab onto, trying to let the pain of being stretched out so far pass.
Ghost groaned, his member twitching inside you. You could feel a prominent vein of his pulsing, almost buzzing inside you. König grunted, stabilising himself by slamming one hand on your waist. “Fuck, you’re so tight, Princess,” The name that dripped from König’s lips was oddly gentle, tender. His head was bowed, but you could feel his shoulders heave as he tried to collect his composure. Ghost, too, but he was less guarded about showing you just how good you made him feel.
He forced the rest of himself in, not as much of a gargantuan task as it had been earlier, given that you’d taken him before. But your sensitivity still made you sore, made you want to shy away from him. That, and the entire situation as a whole did little to make you want to stay.
Seeing Ghost buried to the hilt in you, König seemed to come to life, growling as any sensitivity he displayed towards you before vanished, replaced by a snarling creature. He rolled his hips, catching Ghost and sliding the rest of himself into you. Your lungs stuttered, your body stilled, tensing up. Both König and Ghost let out a groan, feeling you tighten around them.
“Fuck,” Ghost panted, “you must want us more than you’re letting on.”
The fight had left you long ago; you did not argue, nor did you corroborate Ghost’s claim. You just lay there and took it. You could feel how swollen your stomach was.
For however long after, while Ghost and König thrusted into you, you closed your eyes and tried to fight the dim pleasure growing in the cracked recesses of your core. Ghost pressed against your clit, making fragments of rapture flood through you, whether you wanted it or not.
“I’ll breed you so well,” Ghost panted, breathing heavy. His cock twitched, his hips rolled against yours. He was close. He brought your leg up beneath his arm and held you there, hitting you at a deeper angle. König grunted, pulling out and slamming back into you.
Ghost leaned into you, needing to be deeper - needing to fill you with as much of his load as your body would allow. And then some.
“We’ll raise an army of our own flesh and blood - our love.”
Love? You wanted to say. Love?!
What they were doing to you was not love. It displayed a hatred you’d never seen before - a pure selfishness as to strip you of your future, of your prospects, and all to become the mother of the children of the two monsters who held you captive in an unknown prison. ‘Home’ is what they’d convince you it was.
Ghost came inside you, a rasping moan tearing through his throat like light from a  beacon. You could feel his warm cum seeping into you, binding you to him as you gasped. König followed not long after, giving his all in his last sharp thrusts, the cum leaking from your cunt only spurring him to finish, essentially fucking remnants of Ghost’s cum back into another oriphis.
Your body practically jumped against Ghost’s, the force of König’s strength propelling you against him. And he held you, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you close to him, whispering praises into your ear. 
König let out one last moaning growl before he stilled. You could feel his cum pumping into you - water through a hose pipe. You almost thought that perhaps he’d given into his savage instincts and transformed into a beast entirely, knotting you. But alas, the gods seemed to grant you a sliver of mercy for the fact that König’s monstrous personality remained concealed behind human skin, hiding it from anyone looking in. Only you had experienced its brutality first hand on such a personal, intimate level.
The air was thick with an unfamiliar scent, one that was no doubt pheromonal, intertwined with tension. Yet, it did not come from you, for you were far too exhausted to even muster an emotion. You merely panted into Ghost’s chest, König resting against your back, lying on you, sandwiching you further. The tension was between Ghost and König, that much you knew, You just prayed you wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.
“Don’t see why you get to breed her first,” König said. Ghost sighed.
“We won’t be sure which of us she’ll have borne a child for ‘til it’s here. Stop complainin’.” He panted, chest heaving. “You said I got to take her first, anyway. Change your mind?”
“That was before; this is now.”
Hearing them argue put you on edge, despite there being a laze to their tone which suggested the issue did not run as deep as it seemed.
“Oh, come off it,” Ghost said. “We’ll both get to breed her until we’re satisfied, anyway. So what’s the hurry?”
For possibly the hundredth time that night, your heart sank. Your gaze drifted from the camera to the door. You could chance it, you thought. You could at least try.
The glinting of an object on the bedside table caught your eye, and you found yourself straining to see it. The knife. The instrument they’d used to play a tune for themselves on your body like a harp. There it lay. The evidence and instigator of your capture - your captor - laying on the table like a clock or a pair of reading glasses would. It showed you the worst - made you aware of the fact that you were with them now, no longer held hostage by that very weapon, but by the creeping fondness you could taste seeping through your skin like poison. You’d taken to them, much how they’d taken you. Wanted, and used.
Bonus Ending
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad
Taglist: @fluffysmiko @pawpilled @theboywhosavedtheworldonce @kat247 @diejager @instantcowgirlduck
Starting the year off with a literal bang ! Cover made by me :-)
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heresan · 4 months
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When you're perched so prettily on his lap with your arms loosely coiled around his neck, Wriothesley truly wonders what he's done to deserve this一to deserve you and your love and your affections.
There's an endearing boyish smile on his face as you lay only the softest and sensual kiss after sweet kiss on either side of his cheeks, the small scar just at the prominence in deserving of a little extra attention from you. His thoughts become addled when the warmth of your lips spread from his jawline, neck and the corners of his mouth before the long-awaited blissful exchange after enduring all your teasing.
When you draw back slightly, your boyfriend's face is stained all over by the lipstick you'd been wearing since the morning. But there's a reason behind this gesture of tenderness, a greater purpose that lies with all the women in Fontaine in hopes of developing a long-lasting and transfer-free beauty product, or so that's what you like to tell yourself.
Sigewinne had asked you to test her newly formulated cosmetic and provide her with your honest feedback in her survey, while mentioning that at her recent beauty lecture a few audiences had brought to her attention if there's a possibility of such a product. And so, here you are testing how the lipstick wears after food and drink, with a personal experiment of your own for its kissing-proof capabilities.
"Perfection. Would you believe me if I said you look much more handsome this way?" You're almost admiring your handiwork as you do a once-over, but remember that the product doesn't hold up to its original purpose. The lipstick checks out on moisturizing long-wear while still being relatively low-maintenance, but you'll just simply have to report your findings back to the Head Nurse to improve the final product. "I suppose I'll have to let Sigewinne know that there's a bit of transfer."
"More handsome with all this lipstick smear? It might just be because I have someone so beautiful to kiss me." Wriothesley chuckles, as his thumb wipes the slight smudge overlining your bottom lip that’s already begun to fade after doing a number on him. "Perhaps she only needs a little more practice in making a product that can survive our kissing. But a little lipstick stain isn't going to hurt anyone."
You offer a content hum, agreeing with him as you lean forward to press a peck to his lips that he more than gladly returns with a fervor of his own. Wriothesley brings you closer to him by the waist and his tongue runs along the seams of your lips for entrance, deepening the kiss in a heavenly traverse and you instinctively clasp your hand gently into the back of his hair. The pigment spreads and stains upon his lips once more before what's left connecting you both is a string of saliva, and the sound of soft panting for air fills the silence in the room.
Your cheeks feel warm and your heart impossibly full as your head rests comfortably on his shoulder, your fingers fiddling and twirling with his maroon tie as you revel in this feeling of giddiness. "Thanks for letting me steal you away from your work again. I was afraid you wouldn't have time for me between managing the prison and your scheduled uninterrupted tea breaks."
Wriothesley laughs softly at your teasing and plants a chaste kiss to your temple. "Don't worry about it at all, sweetheart. You shouldn't be surprised that I always have time for you. Besides you're not doing anything but letting me have my fun."
He then peers at the swell of your messy lips, a playful smirk gracing his features with a quiet craving behind his gaze. He only wants to feel more of you, like his hands and mouth can't stop wanting to search for every last part of you. And you can’t really blame him for finishing what you started. "Perhaps I should kiss you again and again until it's all but disappeared, hm?"
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abbyromanoff · 4 months
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Could you do: beefy!gp!Carol who gets jealous after seeing you flirt with one of the avengers?
UNFAIR
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PAIRINGS: Carol Danvers x reader
WORD COUNT: 1,019
WARNINGS: smut, Carol has a dick, angst, break up sex, fluff, secret love, jealousy, captain!C, praise, smut, cumming on body, jerking off, no protection, pregnancy, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“That’s not fair, Y/N.” Carol proclaimed, and you had to bite your lip to prevent further disagreeance.
“You can’t just walk around and- and act like you’re all up for grabs, that’s not fair.” You clasped your hands together at her dejected face, and she plopped on the bed with a sigh.
“Carol, we’re not together anymore, I- I can talk to who I want without consequences.” She shook her head and placed it in her hands, her fingers digging at her scalp as red nearly exploded across her face. She was angry, you both knew that, but it wasn’t just anger and frustration that coursed through her veins; it was sadness, betrayal. She had no reason to feel this way, like you said, you weren’t even hers anymore. But she still felt a lingering pain deep in her chest, it felt worse than any bruise you’d tend to.
“But I still love you-“
“But you can’t, Carol. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, you deserve to move on and be happy.” There was a silence filling the room, and for a moment you thought she might’ve wanted you to leave. Which you began doing before you heard a mumbled whisper. You turned, asking for the repetition you needed.
“But I want to be happy with you. I am happy with you, why won’t you just accept that? Why won’t you accept me?” You gulped, your voice seeming to hide with it as you shook from a sigh.
“We weren’t good for each other.” She stood suddenly, and your hand was taken in hers for a soft peck.
“But you were good for me. You made me feel things I never felt before, and I want to be with you again. Please, I- I promise I’ll change! Whatever you need, I’ll do it all. I’ll do anything for you, dove.” Her pleading eyes had always been impossible to ignore, and the same continued even now. You couldn’t resist her, she was the love of your life, after all.
“Just one last time, okay? We’ll have sex, and in the morning I’ll be gone, deal?” She wanted you to stay, but she knew this was the best chance she’d have at seeing you again. If she said no, who knows if you’d ever come back.
“I’ll make it worth your while then, Y/N.”
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“Fuck, I’m- I’m so close, baby.” The woman mumbled, and you had to stifle a moan that still found its way out of you.
“I know, Carol, I know, sweetheart.” Your fingers dug threw her hair, your nails scratching her scalp softly in a soothing manner. Her eyes fluttered shut as her free hand fell to your hardened nipple, the other landing on your cheek as she used her thumb to stroke the soft skin.
“Can I…can I kiss you?” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. But you nodded, and she instantly drew you in for a passionate, loving kiss. She noticed the goosebumps along your skin, and she drew back for only a moment, her lips lingering against yours as you begged internally for more.
“I know you’re cold, just hold onto me.” Your arms went around her back, your legs wrapping around her ass as tears threatened to escape you. You sighed in relief when her mouth met yours again, and her body heated up to the perfect temperature to keep you warm.
“Please, captain, I want you to cum in me.” She shook, and her thrusts were coming to a halt. But she kept up, determined to force your quickening arrival first. And the moment you hit your peak and eventually regained your breath, she immediately drew out, stroking her cock until reaching her peak. Her coil snapped, and her release painted your body. You looked up at her, confused as to why she dismissed your request.
“I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret. If you’re serious about..about leaving me, then I’m not going to get you pregnant and force you to handle something you can’t.” She seemed hurt at the thought, you always knew she wanted a kid, a family. She wanted that family with you, however, and you caught yourself daydreaming about the same possibility she offered you.
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“You didn’t leave.” She noted, and you turned to face her with a grin, the towel covering your wet body. The shower had streaks of steam running down it, and she could tell by your looks that you had just finished taking one.
“No, I didn’t.” She sat up instantly, and you bit your lip at her exposed chest through the see-through tank top. Her nipples were hard under the cold aroma, and all you could imagine was wrapping your lips around them and hearing her groans of pleasure.
“Are you going to?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“…I know a good diner if you’re willing to stay long enough for breakfast.”
“Sure, I’d like that.” You never would’ve expected close to a year later that you would continue to lie next to her, your hands interlacing as her free one was set on her book. Her reading glasses were on the brink of her nose, and you looked out the window to admire the scenery.
“I still can’t believe you took me to space.” She chuckled, placing a kiss on the back of your palm as she followed your gaze.
“It’s pretty great isn’t it?” You hummed, receiving a wrap of arms around your body. Her book was now in front of you, and she read it quietly in your ear. You cuddled into her chest, poking her strong biceps that she teasingly flexed.
“Thank you for not giving up on me, Carol.” She paused, taking a moment to leave soft pecks on your neck.
“I could never give up on you; on us.” She rubbed her thumb over your swollen stomach, smiling softly as she spoke a greeting to the arriving young girl.
“The moment we land on Earth, nothing can stop me from meeting my little one.”
“As long as I have you two, I’ll be okay.”
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szuyiin · 1 month
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⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ATZ : FINGERING !!
this is a work of fiction & contains: ╰ PAIRING: bf ! top ! atz (separately) x gn ! bottom ! reader ╰ GENRE: smut. established relationship. headcannon. ╰ WORD COUNT: ~ 220 words each member, 1.7k words total. ╰ SFW WARNINGS: use of petnames baby (khj, cs, smg, jwy) darling (cs, smg), let me know if i missed anything :] ╰ NSFW WARNINGS are located under cut to prevent exposure to unwanted content. you are responsible for what you consume.
SZUYIIN'S NOTEPAD — this is a repost from an old blog of mine, this piece is not stolen. proof-skimmed.
-18'S & AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED !!
ABOUT ★ GUIDELINES ★ MASTERLIST
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⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ NSFW WARNINGS !! ╰ dirty talk. fingering. let me know if i missed anything !!
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★⠀⠀PARK SEONGHWA.
nice, sweet, and gentle. never wishing to inflict any pain while he tried to pleasure you. two lubed fingers slowly stretching you before him. the type to like your thighs pressed to your chest while he knelt between them, other hand next to your head to level himself as he simply watched you.
the grip you had on his wrist, trying desperately to make him get the hint you wanted more, didn't matter much to him - paying it no mind as he kept his own pace; another subtle reminder who was in a position of control.
keeping his gaze pointed, he watched as your upper lip twitched, every furrow of your brows and every time your lips parted - he wished to memorize every part of you.
“you look so cute,” seonghwa says, hovering above you while you absentmindedly - almost as if it was out of pure instinct - held the backs of your thighs to press against your chest. the gaze he offered was loving, and in a moment like this, you never expected anything less. “you love being full of my fingers, hm? i know you do.”
★⠀⠀KIM HONGJOONG.
loves hearing you. runs on your whines, whimpers, moans, cries, groans - anything and everything you had to offer him verbally, he greedily wanted from you; giving you everything he had to offer you in return.
the type to like to be face-to-face with where he’s prodding into you, knowing exactly how your face is contorted just by how you sound, he’d want to watch every muscle contract and twitch around where his fingers are shoved into you.
adores hearing you beg for anything more than he was giving you right now, purposefully slowing down his pace or not sliding his fingers as deep when you needed him. you being vocal about your wants and needs is definitely what gets him going the most.
the tips of your lovers fingers pressed against your walls, sliding with ease as mewls leave your swollen lips. “go on, you can be louder, can’t you?” you knew he was mocking you simply from his tone, egging you on and causing your skin to warm from the embarrassment of your neighbors possibly hearing you. “just ask for more, baby. need to hear you say it, is all.”
★⠀⠀JEONG YUNHO.
oh god. just wants you falling apart under him. any way he could break you, have you grabbing for his wrist when you’re close and crying out his name as you finish, he would do.
makes it a competition with himself. always keeping a mental timer going to see how fast he can make you cum just from his fingers stuffed inside you - no other stimulation.
his index and middle finger reaching new depths, teasing you about how you begged for a third, but he could feel how you wouldn’t be able to take it just yet.
wants you to know just how much he wants you, too. free hand holding the back of your knee while your calf rests on his shoulder, his crotch against the back of your thigh as he ruts his clothed cock against you just to be sure you know how badly he wants you, and that its not just you who’s desperate to be touched.
“fuck. . .” yunho curses, pressing his hard cock impossibly closer into the soft flesh of your thigh, the motion causing his thigh to press his two digits further into you. “look at you, just laying here. . . driving me insane just by looking at me-” you cut him off with a groan from yourself, a small smile appearing on his lips at the sound. “if you want my cock, you gotta take my fingers first.”
★⠀⠀KANG YEOSANG.
loves fingering you the most when you're on your knees, face against the surface you found yourselves on while he kneeled behind you, a singular, lubed finger prodding at you teasingly, and nasty words flowing from his lips.
keeps his composure incredibly well, almost so that you feel you don’t have much of an effect on him.
but holy shit, he’s fighting the urge to fuck you senseless - your pleads and groans muffled by your arms enough to have a large tent in his sweats.
but alas, he’ll keep up the act that he was unbothered; at least until you beg for him, that is.
“you’re so noisy,” your boyfriend comments, watching intently as your thighs shake from the unsteady stance you have against your shared bed. “maybe i should shove a few fingers in your mouth, too.” you can feel as weight shifts on the bed, his finger continuing to move as he readjusts to press a kiss to your lower back. “you’d absolutely love being stuffed full of me, huh?”
★⠀⠀CHOI SAN.
oh, bless your heart. san will be ruthless with his actions but thoughtful with his words, perfectly articulated to have a certain effect on your mind and body.
two fingers sliding inside you at the most delicious angle and pace, curling against your walls and having your back arching as you laid spread before him.
he thought you looked so hot like this: writhing beneath him as he spoke oh-so softly, praising you while practically splitting you in half, or rather, preparing you to be.
this was only preparation, there was absolutely no way he wouldn’t cave in when you look at him all spaced out.
“so, so cute, darling,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your calf as it rests atop his shoulder. the look he gave you was close to ethereal, a smile on his lips and the corners of his eyes crinkling in joy as he watched where he pushed into you repeatedly. he meets your eyes briefly, slowing his pace and bringing his other hand to hold your cheek in his palm. “you’re so adorable when you’re all spaced out like that,” he pinches your cheek and returns the brutal pace of his fingers. “my pretty baby.”
★⠀⠀SONG MINGI.
not super mouthy, really enjoys feeling you. has you on your back while he kneels between your spread legs, lips almost never leaving your neck or chest as he presses his long fingers into you slowly.
loves it if you’re vocal about your needs, guiding him a bit whether to be rougher or more attentive to the special spot on your neck. if you want him to look you in the eye or kiss your lips instead. he loves if you tell him what you like - wants nothing more than for you to feel the best you can. bonus points when its because of him.
vacant hand will be attached to your hip or leg, kneading the flesh under his fingers and breathing hot air onto your body, feeling you squirm and clench around his digits.
uses the hand on your hip or leg to pull you back the tiniest bit to meet his fingers’ thrusts, wanting to hit as deep as he can to hear you tell him how well he treats you.
“min...” you trail off - unaware if you even had a full thought to begin with - the cool air mingi’s plush lips blew onto your neck where he kissed causing your back to arch involuntarily. “yes, baby? he asks, to which he receives no answer yet doesn’t pine for one either, knowing your desperate call was nothing more than a verbal affirmation of how he was making you feel. he presses a kiss to your neck once more, fingers soothing as they press against your walls. “i’m right here, darling. i’ll make you feel good.”
★⠀⠀JUNG WOOYOUNG.
the mouthiest. doesn’t spend even a second to mentally debate if he should comment on your shaking legs, heavy breathing, or how you cry for him. will always make sure you're aware that he is aware of your actions.
prefers you to be on your stomach or back, laying across his lap so he can feel every jolt and twitch from your body on himself. definitely would point out how his cock hardens to you, telling you how much of an effect you have on him - he loves the response he gets.
the type to - no matter how you're situated - put his palm against your chest. adores being able to feel your heart beat pick up as he continues pumping his fingers into you.
other than that instance, he’d keep his palm flat just above the bump of your ass. not rough, but enough pressure so you couldn’t squirm away - as if you’d ever dream to in the first place.
“aw, i can feel your heart racing, baby. am i making you feel that good?” your lover comments, warm hand sliding under your arm and along your side as the other pushes deeper and deeper inside you, the noises from the added lubricant making the scene all-the-more dirty. the pressure in your abdomen builds, the mixture of his words and actions proving to be too much at once. “look at that, you got me so hard - can’t wait to fuck you like you deserve to be.”
★⠀⠀CHOI JONGHO.
the most notable thing about jongho wouldn’t be how intensely he holds you, but more so how he holds you. similar too wooyoung, keeps you pressed to him just firm enough so you can’t squirm, but offers you just enough space to pull away if you wished to do so.
would like you face down, hips in the air as he sat behind you, one hand kneading the skin of your ass and the other prodding at your hole, the pressure his fingers offered enough to have you pushing back against him and wishing for more.
warm palm pressing on your lower back, his crotch pressed to the back of your thigh as he continues working you open. hand and hips on either side of your shaking body being the only thing keeping you stable, sure that your legs would have given out without him holding you in place.
doesn’t speak much in response to the sounds you make, if you make any. rather, he will give affirmative hums, and - if he feels the time is appropriate - maybe even a chuckle at of your desperate state.
the thumb that swiped across your lower back did little to slow your rapidly beating heart and shaking legs, only adding to the pleasure you were receiving at the hands of your boyfriend. two skilled fingers sink into you and press against your walls, feeling so full from just his prep for later. he watches your fingers dig into the bedsheets, wrinkling them under your palms as a huff of air releases from him in a chuckle, and you’re almost able to hear the smirk on his face.
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© SZUYIIN 2024. DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, ALTER, MODIFY, TAKE INSPIRATION, OR REPOST MY WORKS.
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bamdelune · 6 months
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tears of the condemned .𖥔 ݁ ˖ neuvillette x reader
summary ➜ The Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale rarely ever made errors in its judgement, suitable persecution befalling those on the other side of the law. The Iudex of Fontaine was well-aware and familiar with that fact but the Oratrice's final verdict cause his judgement to go sideways, because it involved you.
warnings/tags/notes ➜ the summary is a warning in itself, angst [i never payed much attention to neuvillette but seeing a few fics about him got me to write this heheuehe + info and events might be canon-divergent because i haven't unlocked fontaine yet but hey, i tried my best 🤓☝️]
Neuvillette truly did not understand why so many people sought out Fontanian hearings, as if watching the accused and the persecution go back and forth was an amusing routine incorporated in their daily lives. To the citizens, it seemed like hearings were an elaborate play that they could watch for entertainment instead of a catalyst to serve righteousness. The Chief Justice certainly did not have a taste for it, especially when the audience was filled with hushed chatter about the case today: your case; surprise, you do not play the part of the persecution but you are the accused.
Murder, both you and Neuvillette found it impossible to believe you could committ such an act but as the Iudex, he must learn not to let this cloud his judgement; Neuvillette must not his doubts pass the verdict instead of rationality.
"The evidence presented by the plaintiff shows us that there is no concrete reason to convict the defendant," His eyes catch your form relax, even by just a bit from his statement. "However, as practice, the final verdict will be determined by the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale." Silence fills the Opera Epiclese as the mechanism moves between the scales.
Neuvillette's skin goes cold when the Oratrice has decided your fate.
Guilty.
Gasps erupt inside the opera and your expression is filled with dumbfoundedness. This was not the first time this happened but he's learned to trust the Oratrice's judgement over his own.
But can he truly put aside his bias if it meant getting you out of this predicament? Can he truly cross the law, the one aspect that founded everything that he has done so far.
Your voice rips out from the silence, riddled with desperation as you plead out to him.
"That's—that's not true at all! Monsieur Neuvillette, there must be some kind of mistake!"
Neuvillette clenches his fists, head straining from the thoughts that ran through his mind. He knew there was a mistake, he knew that the Oratrice can go against his own verdict but he's conflicted. Should he let you off scot-free or send you to the depths of Fortress of Merop—
"The judgement of the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale is the final verdict of the court. We have no choice but to follow through with it. Please take the suspect into custody," his mouth opens before he could even think about anything else. Neuvillette swallows thickly, seeing the defeated look on your face—as if the stale silence of the courthouse gave way to the sounds of your heart shattering into tiny pieces; the heart that he had promised to take care of so sincerely every day and the heart he swore to never toss away.
The Fortress is a place meant for solitude, for the convicted to reflect on their actions but all you could think of was how dark and scary it was in your cell. It was clean for the most part, that you were thankful for but other than that, all sense of time seemed to blur. It was lonely, but being falsely arrested like this by your beloved helped you feel lonelier. You felt empty, almost numb like a hollow glass that threatened to break with a push that was enough to break and Neuvillette crossing your trust like that was the trigger.
Footsteps resound through the corridor outside your place, your head lifts to see him.
"Why are you here?" Neuvillette seems to almost wince at how your voice sounded so... colorless, deprived of the life he's grown to love. You never intended it to come out that way but being in here rarely gave you the privilege of human interactions, "Are you going to set me free, monsieur?"
The Chief Justice opens and closes his mouth, clearly conflicted on what he was going to say next, because what could you say to your (assumingly former) lover whom you just convicted of a murder in front of the public?
"No," he replies, like he's still in court. You dryly chuckle at his response. "Have you come to reprimand me then? That must be it right? The lover of the Iudex of Fontaine, condemned to a life behind bars at the hands of her own beloved, thst must sound terrible to you, yes? Does a number to your honorable image to the people," Your tone gradually turned more bitter at each word knowing the fact that he could've saved you, or at the very least kept you anywhere but here until the evidence and verdict lined up in agreement.
"I care less about my own image, mon chéri—"
Another gasp of a laugh falls from your lips, "Don't. Don't you dare call me that if you will spit such lies in the same breath."
"Would you rather me threaten the sanctity of my title as Iudex?" Neuvillete responds right after, his tone stern and almost to a level of a scream. You would've flinched if you weren't so agitated.
"I wish you would," you mutter under your breath. You were so desperate for authentic justice to be served. Knowing the citizens of Fontaine, this incident would leave a stain on your image. No matter where you'll go, you aren't free from the scrutinizing eyes of the people. Your life will never be the same.
Neuvillette scoffs, "Do you hear yourself? Do you know what you are asking of me?" He was angry now. See, when he gets irritated, Neuvillette is never the type to aggressively express such a feeling but rather, he emits a silent aura that just unsettles you to an extent. But you have to stand your ground.
"Such a selfish request for your circumstances."
Now it's your turn to huff an exhale, hurt gnawing at your chest at every word he spoke.
"Selfish? I'm selfish for asking for justice for a horrendous act of violence both you and I know I never committed?"
Your voice almost gave out under the weight of the sting of your chest, nearly cracking as you raise your voice at him, "You know the Oratrice can make mistakes, Neuvillette—"
"The Oratrice's judgement is absolute, it does not make errors," the man interjects. A beat of silence stays.
"You never believed my words, even for a moment, didn't you?"
Neuvillette swallows, eyes somehow on your face but never on your eyes. He's hyper-aware of the fact that he's hurt you more than enough times he promised not to, never. He always promised that he wouldn't be the one to shatter your heart into tiny pieces and crush them under the soles of his feet. He was the one that vowed to stay by your side amidst the intimidating whispers that talk, talk, and talk about how you would murder an innocent citizen in cold blood. And now he knew.
He had gone back on his word.
It doesn't take him a reply before you started again. "You lied to me," you muttered.
"You're correct, I never believed you for one second," Neuvillette responds, voice low. His mouth opens before he could even think about it.
No. He always would. Over anyone and anything else.
He cringes slightly at this. The Iudex of Fontaine behind closed doors was a complex man. He is built of layers upon layers of emotional concealing, it was never a good thing for him to blatantly open up to someone—but of course, that changed because of you.
"You're foolish to think you could've slipped past the Oratrice's verdict,"
You didn't. He knew that, you did nothing wrong.
"The time has come for you to pay your dues." Neuvillette fronts.
Let me get you out of here. Neuvillette pleads
You fall silent by the tail of his words, barely getting enough courage to look him in the eye. Too much, it was all too much.
"Just—just leave, I don't want to see you," you mumble, defeated. Your eyes catch the way salty tears softly drip onto your clenched fists, wiping your face with the back of your hand. If you were alone in a lonely cell, so be it.
You hear his footsteps hesitate for a moment before they clack away, getting softer and farther with each step.
Heavy rain littered the streets of Fontaine that day.
Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, wipe the tears from your face. Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry.
© bamdelune 2023. do not repost, translate, plagiarize any of my works without permission, thank you so much! reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!
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disasterofastory · 1 year
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What about Legolas x F!reader? Maybe she is a friend of Eomer and Legolas gets jealous about all the time they stay together? And some hot moment? I don't know, this is just an Idea. So, I'm sorry for my bad english but I'm Italian. Have a good day❤️
Just a reminder Legolas x Reader Warnings: jealousy, smut
Summary: Legolas reminds you of the reasons you are with him.
A/N: Please don't be sorry for your English. I know the struggle. :)
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The grassland is covered in a bright golden hue as the sun reaches the top of the clear blue sky. The lush, green grass waves like the ocean as a breeze runs through the peaceful scenery. Everything is so quiet and calm. It is almost impossible to believe the dark power that works and marches forward underneath it all. The warm rays of the sun caress your bare arms and your cheeks. The tree you lean against is tall and strong, bending its branches to the will of the slight wind. The rustle of the leaves is a sweet whisper in your ear as you focus on the story in front of you. The book is a pleasant weight on your lap. The pages are old and thin between your fingers.
"What are you reading?" Legolas's voice breaks your concentration, but you feel nothing but happiness as you turn your eyes from the long row of words to the tall elf standing a few meters away from you. "Just a book," you shrug. "Tales for children." "Are they good?" He asks, sitting down next to you with a few elegant movements. "You know how it is," you hum, closing the book and putting it on the ground. "The good always wins, and the bad guys pay for their misdeeds as they should." "It was easier to believe in it when we were kids, no?" The elf asks. You can almost see his blue eyes darkening with ominous thoughts. "Sometimes it's harder when you are an adult, yes," you reply, reaching out for his hand to link your fingers together. "But there is always hope." "I heard you will go with Gandalf." "Yes," you nod. "He thinks Eomer will listen to me." A slight frown appears between his brows. His lips turn into a thin line. "Are you friends with the rider?" "Something like that, yes." "When we met them, he asked you to come with them." You barely recognized him when your way met with the riders during your search for the hobbits. You smile and nod in confirmation. "Why are these questions?" "Why didn't you? Went with them, I mean." "You are my home, Legolas," you reply, squeezing his hand in yours. "I won't leave you." "But you will go with Gandalf." "He asked me," you reason, getting a little bit confused. Something is off with Legolas, but you can't find out what. "And it's just for a few days. We need every help we can get." "Are you sure?" He asks. He feels selfish, and guilt eats him up inside because of it, but he can't help himself. He knows orcs and death will wait for you in Helm's Deep, but he can't bear the thought of you staying with the riders. With Eomer. "Legolas," you say his name softly, cupping his cheek with your free hand. Your thumb caresses the soft skin under his eye. "Of course, I will come back to you. There is nothing that can keep me away from you." He smiles at your words. The slight curve of his lips gives him something angelic and ethereal that you can never get used to. You still don't understand how the elven prince can love you, a simple mortal, but he does, and you stopped questioning it years ago.
Soon, his lips find yours, and the kiss that always starts so gently is impatient and rushing now. His hand lands on the back of your head to keep you close, while his tongue slips into your mouth with ease. He invites you to a dance that's intimate and familiar. "Don't get me wrong," you hum when he breaks away. His breath still fans over your lips. It smells like ale and fruits. "I love your kisses, but you still don't tell me something." Now, the guilt is transparent on his delicate features, and he looks down at your intertwined fingers. The small gesture makes his years younger. "I just…" he sighs. "I just don't want you to find something with the rider that will make you stay with them… with him." "Oh, my love," you laugh, pecking his lips when you notice the slight blush spreading on his cheeks. "There is nothing that makes me stay where you aren't." Your words are followed by another kiss. It's feverish and bruising and makes you lose your breath for long seconds. His hand finds the loose curls at the nape of your neck, and before you know it, you are lying on the grass with Legolas above you. When he looks into your eyes, the glint you know so well by now is back in his bright blue irises. "I love you," he says, caressing the line of your jaw. "I love you too," you hum against his lips before gasping at his sudden touch. " What are you doing?" "Just a reminder of what I can do to you." He bares your legs with a few quick pulls on your dress until his hand finds its way between your thighs. "Legolas," you gasp again, looking around your surroundings. "What if someone sees us?" "I will hear them before they can see us," he promises. "Do you trust me?" The question makes your legs spread open before his caressing touch. "Of course."
His lips wander down your neck, caressing the soft skin there with slow, lazy kisses while his long fingers find their way to your center after pushing your panties aside. His fingertips slide over your fold easily. Your wetness soaks him within a few seconds. "You are so wet already," he hums. His words flutter in your chest. Your heart thuds against your ribcage. "Legolas," you pant his name, grabbing his shoulder. Your other hand tries to find some support on the ground. The grass is soft under your touch. "I'm here, love," he replies. "And I won't go anywhere until you cum around my fingers." Your eyes fall shut as the pleasure flares through your body. It burns your veins and spins the world around you. His thumb draws small circles on your clit, helping you to chase your orgasm. His breath fans over your neck, and his voice make you tremble some more. "Who makes you feel this good?" He asks, and when you don't answer immediately, he doesn't wait to push two fingers inside your aching hole. Your head falls back, and a moan breaks up from your throat. "Say my name, Y/N," the elf demands. "Let everyone hear who you belong to." His name leaves your lover's name in breathless whines as his hand speeds up between your legs. He pushes you to the edge and doesn't give you enough time to process what's happening. "Cum, Y/N," Legolas says. "Make a mess on my hand. Give me something to remember while you are far away from my arms."
Pleasure washes over you as the burning coil snaps in your lower belly. Your muscles jerk, and your breath stops for a long second. Your orgasm comes quickly and powerfully. It feels like Legolas's arms are the only things that keep you in one piece.
When you open your eyes, you see him licking your juices off his fingers. A satisfied smile plays on his lips the whole time. "You will get more when we meet again," he promises.
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blarshwritezz · 6 days
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Yandere jock x male reader forced boyfriend. Jock forced you to be his boyfriend and tried everything he could to have sex with you, you refused, leaving him needy and horny. So he drugs the food with aphrodisiac when he gives you a snack
Yandere Jock x Reader
M yan x M reader
TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, drugging, dubcon, semi-public sex
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You had to be the unluckiest guy in the world. Things were supposed to be fine. Your plan was to just fly under the radar until graduation, and you almost made it.
Until he came along.
People envied you, getting to date the hot, popular jock despite not being not very popular yourself. But none of them realize how hellish it is! You never even liked him in the first place! The only reason you two were dating was because of some stupid blackmail he had.
The two of you couldn't even have one conversation without him practically begging to fuck you. But there was no way you'd ever let him! You'd rather let him spill your secrets!
Other than that (and the jealousy issues, and the possessiveness, and the threats, and everything else awful about him) he was sometimes kind of nice. It wasn't uncommon for him to bring you snacks or drinks.
So one morning when he came to you with a bottle of water a granola bar, you didn't think much of it. You didn't have breakfast that day anyway.
But you quickly realized something was wrong. Very wrong.
The whole morning after eating that stupid little granola bar your mind has been fuzzy, your body needy. The only thing you could seem to think of was how much your cock needed attention.
You couldn't even make it to lunch. While everyone else enjoyed their break and ate the world's worst food, you were hiding in a bathroom stall jerking off. It was pathetic. One hand covered your mouth as the other desperately fisted your cock.
You didn't even stop when you heard someone coming in. You just bit your hand and tried harder to hold back your pathetic moans.
Until you heard his voice.
"I know you're in there, darling. Let me in so I can help you out."
How did he know?! This finally made you stop your actions, pre-cum making your hand sticky.
"If you don't let me in, I'll just crawl under the stall door. I'm not afraid to get a little dirty. I've waited too damn long for you to finally be ready for me."
He pounded on the door, making it rattle. What were you supposed to do? You didn't want him...but you probably needed some help with this, and if he's going to come in anyway, you might as well not struggle too much...
Barely pulling your pants back up, you shakily unlocked and opened the stall door. He barged in and closed the door again, making sure to lock it. He didn't waste a second in connecting his lips with yours harshly as he pushed you against the cold wall and pulled your pants down, making sure they dropped to your ankles.
"Look who's needy now..." He lowered his own pants just enough for his erection to spring free, and it was larger than you had anticipated. As if the world would end if he didn't penetrate you fast enough, he turned you around so your back was facing him and forced his way into your ass.
He let out a loud moan as your warmth enveloped him. "Now you listen here. Don't you dare let me miss out on hearing your moans, got it? Be loud. I want everyone to know who you belong to."
With that, he thrust into you at a brutal pace. One of his hands found its way around your body to hold you by the neck, just tight enough so you could really feel it without choking.
His free hand caressed your ass cheeks gently, then slapped them hard enough to leave a mark. Even if it weren't for him demanding you not muffle yourself, you weren't sure if you could. It was impossible not to moan and scream with pleasure and he caressed and used your sensitive body.
If you could think straight, you'd be more concerned about all the noise. Surely anyone would hear if they simply walked past. But it was impossible to think of anything except how his cock was rearranging your guts.
"Fuck, you look so damn good like this...! You have no clue how long I've been waiting for this moment..." He leaned in and gently nibbled your earlobe, moving down to bite and kiss your shoulders.
His hand, previously on your ass, moved around to your twitching cock. He fisted you, his pace very slow compared to the intense and desperate way he was demolishing your hole.
"Cum for me, I know you want to."
And oh lord did you. You swear you've never shot such a large load. Maybe it was the aphrodisiac?
Feeling your hot cum coat his hand, he soon filled you with his own seed, the grip he had on your neck tightening.
How you wished you could say that was the end...
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Okay, this one I think is probably good!
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adore-laur · 1 month
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WINDS OF CHANGE
— my writing is a bit rusty, but here’s an update on dad harry & the fam <3 please reblog/comment, or i will haunt you
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——
You've been dreading this day since March began.
Every time you passed the calendar on the refrigerator, you averted your eyes so you didn't see the specific date circled with the words "Lovebug's First Day" written inside it.
Time ticked by in an unyielding manner. Like an apex predator lying in wait, it crept up on you and pounced, leaving you disoriented, helpless, and wounded. You couldn't mentally process the breakneck speed of reality sprinting straight at you. When you merely blinked in a daze, another month unfurled, leaving no chance to recover.
The day arrived with a strong western wind and a brilliantly bright sunrise that mocked your low spirits. You're awake before anyone else, which is rare. Sleep evaded you last night, your eyes rejecting the heaviness that always comes with sleeping in Harry's warm embrace. The restlessness was paired with a fierce ache clutching your heart and holding on tight until the early morning.
At almost four years old, your eldest daughter is attending preschool today. After being a stay-at-home mom since she was born, you're finally setting her free to grow somewhere new. It was always in the cards, considering you would like to get back to working part-time to help provide for the family. You loved bonding with and nurturing both your girls, but you're eager to put your brain to use in a different environment. It's time to return to other identities besides being a mother and a wife.
You start brewing coffee, then open the kitchen curtains to allow the sun to pour in. For some odd reason, the atmosphere feels different. It feels like your first day of school all over again, where there's that nostalgic zest in the air fused with an underlying fear of the unknown. It's impossible to describe lucidly, but its presence is strongly felt nonetheless.
Today will forever change your family's routine, and it will make you want to rip your hair out and also burst with pride. There's a tug-of-war match taking place in your heart right now. Your nerves feel frayed—anxiety's merciless hands are harshly plucking at the threads. It's like fighting a biological battle with no shield. Your brain is futile against all the attacks.
The sound of the stairs creaking dissolves your whirlwind thoughts. Harry appears, wearing a snug black sweater and athletic shorts. He yawns, the sparkling sunlight accentuating his face gorgeously. The neatly trimmed scruff on his jaw he kept throughout winter. The tired shape of his eyes. The wispy way his hair curls after his morning shower. It's a blessing to be able to see the serene side of him that just woke up and isn't burdened by stress.
"Hi, sweetheart," he says, taking the mug of black coffee you prepared for him and sipping with an appreciative hum. "Both kids are still asleep."
You simply nod, afraid that if you speak, your poise will crumble instantaneously. Your hands distract themselves by lighting the wick of a sandalwood-scented candle. A part of you falsely hopes the comforting aroma will calm you down, but you know nothing will break through the full-body anxiety you're currently experiencing.
"No cuddles in bed this morning?" Harry asks curiously, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He smells like his sage and citrus body wash. "I missed you. Thought we'd have a little cry session before leaving."
Did he really have to mention the elephant in the room? You force your tears to save their arrival for later and say, "Sorry. I'm just trying to avoid crying as much as possible today."
His sigh is weighted with emotion as he sets his mug down and begins massaging your shoulders. "I'm losing my composure already," he admits, laughing weakly.
At least he's in the same boat as you. Being a father has cracked him open in the best way possible—he's more softened than ever, and these parenting milestones always make him tenderhearted.
You rest your head against his chest and say, "This is harder than I thought it'd be." Every outcome you predicted involved an aching heart. Now, in the thick of it, you're defenseless.
"Remember our first night at home with her?" Harry asks, applying pressure with his thumbs to get rid of the muscle knots in your shoulder blades.
"Yeah. You woke me up because she had the hiccups."
He groans into your neck, almost like he's reliving the panicked moment. "I was so scared something was wrong."
You recall opening your eyes in the dead of night, the mellow lamplight illuminating Harry's troubled expression. Your baby, so small and precious in his arms, had harmless hiccups leaving her mouth. While half asleep, you reassured him by saying it was probably because she fed for too long. He agreed yet still brought her to bed and gently rubbed her tummy until they were gone. You two were learning and tag-teaming through pure exhaustion. It was tough, but the rewards came in refreshing waves.
"Then she threw up on me," Harry adds, shaking his head fondly.
You turn around and slide your palms under his sweater, feeling the gloriously warm skin of his sculpted stomach. "Remember when she said her first word?"
He smiles reminiscently. "Mama."
"You started crying, if I'm not mistaken."
"Because she recognized you. It was special."
"Are you surprised she didn't say Dada first?"
"No, considering I talked about Mama all the time around her." His knuckle strokes under your chin. "Still do."
You hum thoughtfully, welcoming the pleasant memories that replay behind your closed eyelids. "Our girl is all grown up now. What are we going to do?"
Harry tilts your head to kiss the sensitive spot behind your ear. "You and I will be okay. It'll take time, but we'll eventually sink into this new normal."
"You think so?"
"I know so. Our love is steadfast, and nothing will ever change that." He hugs you in an all-consuming way—it's intimate and infuses you with safety, warmth, and a hopeful spark that everything will patch together the way it's supposed to.
——
When the preschool comes into view, you get slammed with immediate sadness.
You toured it with Harry months ago, ensuring it was where you wanted your daughter to be during the weekdays. The curriculum focuses on outdoor learning and is nestled in a safe neighborhood only ten minutes from the beach house. The teachers, classrooms, and overall energy of the place made you less anxious, but now it's back with a vengeance, eating away at your calm facade.
Kids linger outside the building, the sun shining on the blacktop that's scribbled with chalk drawings. A few participate in supervised hopscotch, while others twist their bodies nervously. A gated playground area is off to the left, with colorful swings, slides, and seesaws. To the right is a woodsy area with a large sandbox and flower beds. The stone pathway is decorated with little handprints that must have been dipped in paint. It's darling.
In the rearview mirror, you watch your daughter kick her legs in excitement and hug her tiny ladybug backpack, all ready to go. She woke up happy as a clam and impatiently scarfed down the big breakfast Harry had made her. After that, Harry did her hair while sitting on the front porch, the March winds and briny air bringing the spring season with them. Pictures were taken, hearts were broken a bit more, and then you all were off to part ways.
Harry to the restaurant; you to your part-time job. No babies to look after, just an empty house waiting to be filled with love again.
Your youngest daughter, who's ten months old now, sleeps peacefully in the car seat. She's getting bigger every day, and it's a double whammy to see both your children becoming more cognizant. You want to curse time for being such a thief.
She'll be dropped off at the nearby daycare center next, which will further twist the knife. It's possible for separation anxiety to occur, and while you can handle it, your baby girl's reaction will be a mystery. You sincerely hope the transition from home to somewhere unfamiliar will be smooth sailing.
Harry parks the car and looks over at you unwaveringly. "It's now or never," he whispers.
You draw in a deep breath, then exhale slowly. "Let's go."
Stepping out of the car, you open the back door and let your daughter hop out. You'd walk her to the door, but you want to stay near your youngest.
As she bounces with anticipation, you open her backpack and double-check that she has everything—her lunch box, a change of clothes, sunscreen, and the comfort blanket she's had since she was born. You zip it back up and then unhurriedly help her arms into the straps, trying to stall what happens next.
Harry, never the one to procrastinate, kicks things into gear by crouching and cradling her head. "You have the best day, all right? Be kind, make friends, and have fun. I'll be picking you up later."
"Can we eat ice cream after?" she asks, clasping her hands and standing on her tiptoes. "And play on the beach?"
He kisses her forehead. "We can do whatever you want, lovebug."
You can envision it now. Harry will bring the girls home, exhausted from work. He'll make dinner and wait for you, then you'll all sit at the kitchen table and attentively listen to her talk about her day in great detail. Then, as the sun sets, he'll entertain her by the shore until he insists on bedtime. Come tomorrow, he'll do it again with the same steadfast devotion because that's what good fathers do.
"We love you so much," you say, petting her braided hair.
"Love you," she replies distractedly, eagerly glancing at the front door. "I gotta go now, Mommy. Bye, Daddy."
She turns, ready to break free, but Harry stops her and says, "Not so fast, little lady. Give us some love to get through the day."
She shyly hugs him. She's growing out of her clingy tendencies and becoming more independent, and you can tell by Harry's sad smile that he recognizes it too. She briefly hugs your leg before running to the front door, where teachers are waiting with enthusiastic expressions and name tag stickers.
Harry slowly stands, never taking his eyes off her. He's more adjusted to not seeing her as much during the week than you, but you know the sentiment of her starting school still weighs heavy on his heart. After watching her disappear, he slings his arm around your shoulders and guides you to the car.
Inside is where you fall apart. The first cry that escapes has Harry blowing out an unsteady breath and embracing you. Against your neck, he sniffles, letting his piled-up emotions finally fall to pieces. He's not much of a crier, but when he does, it's a raw sight to see.
"Reservation for a cry session? Table for two?" he says humorously, rubbing your back and lightly scratching it.
"We're so lame," you whisper, gripping his sweater like a vice.
"God, I know. I even packed tissues." Harry takes an on-the-go pack out of his pocket, plucks two tissues out, and wipes both his and your tears with them.
"Eventually, we're going to have to do this again," you say. From the passenger seat, you peek at your baby girl and shoo away the thought—you still have more than enough time with her before she starts school.
Harry kisses your cheek. "One day at a time, honey."
Undoubtedly, this routine will get easier. It will become second nature, and you'll discover the exquisite simplicity of watching your children grow before leaving the nest and soaring through the sky.
They came into this world like a soft spring breeze, carrying seeds and dispersing them into your life. The roots emerged from under your home and flourished into a bountiful garden. Each day, there are new blossoms to admire and appreciate. And each day, you aim to help them thrive with support from Harry's sunshine.
Try as they might, the winds of change won't cause harm. Your family's roots are firm in the ground.
——
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kentosovertime · 1 month
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(adj.) deadly, destructive
➳ yandere best friend!yuta x afab!reader - 1.5k
➳ a/n: straight up brain rot- i just know this man is unhinged
➳ cw: explicit content, explicit language, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, emotional manipulation, yandere themes, catfishing, friend zone, degradation, praise, pet names
✨Masterlist | Tag List | Ask Box | AO3 | Ko-Fi✨
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Fat, ugly tears soak into Yuta’s white sweater as he wipes the wetness from your cheek while he rubs your back comfortingly with his free hand. 
“It’s gonna be ok, hun…” He coos with a warm hum that feels like home. It’s why you begged him to pick you up from the date you were stood up on and ghosted after months of talking. 
“N-n-no its n-not.” You sob into the pillow that you’ve curled around, clutching the fabric until your knuckles blanche in color. “I feel so fucking stupid!”
“What’s wrong?” He pretends to sound clueless, like he’s concerned about something you’re not telling him. “You still haven’t told me why you were at that coffee shop…”
“T-that guy I told you a-about-” Your breath shutters out of you, making it impossible to force words out for a second. “It w-was a d-date and h-he didn’t show up. I’m blocked on everything n-now.”
“The guy from the dating app?” He makes a show of furrowing his eyebrows in concern, frowning deeper when you nod your head into the pillow, sobbing even harder now. 
“Feel s’dirty and used… what’s w-wrong with me, Yu?” You want to crawl out of your skin, you feel so nauseous thinking about how close you had gotten to this guy, how much you had confided in him. “Why can’t all men be like you?”
“Oh hun…” You allow him to tilt you towards him as he settles on the couch next to you, pulling you into his arms as he gently shushes you. “Come ‘ere, baby.” 
His arms wrap around your body and settle you in his lap, sighing contently as you nuzzle into his neck, basking in the warmth and support he always provides you. Once you’re settled into him, even as your cries continue, he finally allows himself a satisfied grin that his plan is going better than he thought. 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ 
His jaw clenches as he watches you from across campus, seeing you giggling loudly with yet another frat boy fuck ass who’s only with you to get his dick wet. You deserve someone who puts you first, who cares about you more than anyone else; someone like him. 
That night he’s decided he’s had enough of being the afterthought when he deserves you more than these boys who break your too soft heart.  One more terrible heartbreak would certainly break you enough for him to make a move. It's just one more… then you’ll never have to go through it again. 
That’s how he justifies opening his phone to download the dating app he knows you use the most, making a profile after he pays one of the men desperate for cash on campus to use his photos and have him facetime you a couple times to make it more believable. 
It doesn’t take long for you to match the profile or for Yuta to use the knowledge he has as your best friend to concoct the lies that would hook you fastest. The imposter he created enjoys all the same things as you, understands your problems, and supports you when you’re down. 
It’s almost pathetic how quickly you fall for him, folding after a couple months of talking when Yuta decides to be selfish and asks you for a video of you playing with yourself. Yuta digs his teeth into his bottom lip, stifling a guttural groan at the first sight of your finger spreading yourself open for the camera, teasing your clit before you burrow your middle and ring fingers into your cunt. You little pleading moan for him to send something in return so you can picture it while you fuck your fingers into yourself. 
Yuta seethed with jealousy, even if it was his cock you came to when he sent you a video back. You didn’t know it was him, you didn’t love him. It made him so angry that you refused to see what was right in front of you. 
Whenever you hang out with him, you gush about this guy that you met that was so much different from the shit bags you normally gravitate to. And Yuta would smile, listening to you describe everything about him except how you sent him to the dirtiest little clips while he glanced at your hand, itching for you to sink those fingers into yourself again so he can suck them clean. 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Your sobs slowly calm with Yuta’s warmth sinking into your bones. Only small hiccups echo in the room as you feel him leave small kisses across your shoulder. 
His touch isn’t unfamiliar but this specific action is, he was normally so reserved with you, but you shiver as those comforting presses of his mouth on your skin, his breath skating across the surface, serving to fill the void left by a man you thought you could love. 
The low, desperate rumble that sounds from his throat has your eyes fluttering and goosebumps running down your skin. The kisses slowly turn wetter, sloppier as he lays one just below your ear, his tongue peaking out to lap at the skin there. 
“Yu…” Your voice cracks, pleading, as your head tilts to the side, giving him more room to continue his actions. “M-make it stop h-hurting… please.” 
“I don’t know what else to do, hun…” He almost can’t hold the condescending coo from his tone. Fuck he wants to hear you say it. He’s waited so long for the words to fall from your lips. 
“I… Can you…” You hiccup in embarrassment, burrowing into his neck as you grip his shirt as tight as you did the pillow earlier. “I w-want you to fuck me, Yu.” 
“A-are you sure…? I don’t want you to regret it later.” His eagerness is only betrayed by his fingers digging into your hips as an anchor. He needs you to know he’s going to care about you more than anyone, that he isn’t the frat trash you soil yourself with.
“Y-yes… but if you don’t want to- Yu!” You squeak, your eyes widening when your back hits the couch cushion and he settles between your thighs, his hardness already pressing against the fabric of your panties under your skirt you wore especially for your date. 
“Don’t want to?” He growls, pushing the fabric of the skirt to pull around your hips, reaching between you to rip the seam of your pretty lace panties you wore for the imposter he created. 
He deftly flicks the button of his jeans, pushing them along with his boxers to his mid thigh, entering you in a rush movement before you can decide you don’t want him. 
“Oh fuck, Yu-” You moan loudly, your sobs turning to those of pleasure as he sets a brutual pace, taking out all his frustration, anger, and jealousy on you. 
He grits his teeth, carelessly shoving his hand under your shirt to grope your breasts, gripping onto them to hold you in place, using it for leverage to drill into you harder.
“Finally woke the fuck up and realized I’m right here?” He hiss as you flutter around him, your cunt making a white ring around his cock as he fucks you raw. His brutal pace is matched by the demeaning tone. “So nice to be your second choice, you know? Stringing me along like a needy slut?” 
You jolt in shock, the rough treatment only serving to make you clench down on him harder, teetering on the edge.
“S’not like t-that Yu-” You whine, clawing at his chest through his shirt. “I’m s-sorry, I d-didn’t m-mean it like that- M’sorry ‘made you wait!”
He grins ferally at you folding so easily for him, ready to finally force the final blow.  
“Really, hun?” He reaches a hand to your clit, circling it slow enough to drive you crazy, keeping you right at the edge of your orgasm without giving you that last push. “Fuck toys don’t get to cum… only girlfriends do. Are you my perfect little girlfriend? Or a useless fucking cum dump?” 
“Girlfriend!” You shriek as he immediately applies more pressure, his thrusts stuttering a little. You’d give him anything to cum. “I’ll b-be yours ple-” 
Your back arches off the bed as you explode into a thousand little pieces, coming hard enough for your vision to go fuzzy, mewling when you feel Yuta still after pressing deep inside of you. His cum spills from your abused cunt, spilling out from around him to drip down onto the couch. 
“Good fucking girl, hun. Fuck-” The praise makes you tremble and cling to him and he knows breaking your heart was worth the pain.
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258 notes · View notes
wave2tyun · 2 months
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cool hot sweet love | ☆
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pairing: barista!beomgyu x fem!reader, surfer!yeonjun x fem!reader
genre: summer!au, lovetriangle!au, fluff, romance, a tiny bit of angst?
summary: embarking on a journey towards self-discovery, you didn’t expect to also have your heart tangled in an alluring summer romance. but, who’s gonna be the first to win your heart? the sweet barista, beomgyu, or the charming surfer boy, yeonjun? let the love games begin!
warnings : alcohol consumption, a few swear words, minor injury, (almost) drowning
word count: almost 10k + the endings are like 1k each
a/n: i've been feeling super nostalgic about this fic recently (it's one of the very first i've written!! :0), so here it is back again in all it's glory!!!! this is too long for me to search through for any mistakes i'm sorry asbjdha for all my summer enthusiasts, let's hang in there just a little bit more, this one goes out to y'all!!!!😼😼💞
☆ = repost from my old blog!!
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at the end of your final year of high school, you found yourself chasing a dream, a dream that was never truly yours to begin with. competitions and grades never seemed to bring you any satisfaction anymore. your parents’ praises didn’t seem enthusiastic either, but rather an automatic response. you felt completely lost. the one thing that seemed to give you the drive to keep on going, suddenly lost its spark. you were living in a greyed out world, having the same exhausting routine over and over again. you wanted a break from it all. for once, you didn’t long for the pressure or the big goals, but simply for living life just as it was. you wanted an escape from the clutches of mundane life, which is why you chose to swallow your pride and opt for a gap year after graduation. you knew your parents well, and you weren’t expecting them to be happy about your decision. they didn’t want to let their “dream daughter” fall down from the top and watch as everybody else around her were working on their way to success. but what they failed to consider was that success is in no way linear, and that your break was in the end substantial for your wellness. you were very lucky to have a friend like yeji in your life though. she did have her own struggles with academic validation as well, yet she never had any pressure coming from her parents. she wanted to be there for you, and made her parents persuade yours about letting you have a gap year with her. to raise the ball even higher, her parents added one condition: should you have a gap year, you weren’t allowed to remain in the city. instead, you were going to stay at their vacation home, at least for the summer, to let you experience the thrill of the unknown, as well as to help you get a breath of fresh air.
you didn’t know what kind of black magic yeji’s family used, but whatever they did, somehow managed to convince your parents to agree to your proposal. finally, you felt like you had found some motivation to keep on pushing through, making your heart fill up with excitement.
as the number of days leading up to your departure shortened, you were meeting up more and more with yeji for your final preparations. your sleepovers consisted of the two of you giggling while packing and making lists, as well as making up scenarios deep into the night about things that could finally “bring some spice” into your lives. even though it was her own family’s house, yeji hasn’t been there in years. she was living under the impression that a holiday there would just be “a distraction from her studies” or “a waste of time”. however, now that you were both free from that brainwashing hell called school, you realised how much you’ve actually been missing out on.
“do you really think that this “project” will finally bring that change we want in our lives?” you asked yeji, breaking the silence after some long moments of tossing and turning in your bed. you found it almost impossible to fall asleep. it was the last night before you were going to leave behind everything in your life so far. the excitement was still there, but you couldn’t deny the fact that there were all sorts of worries and doubts clouding your mind, and you found yourself wondering more and more often whether you were truly making a good decision.
“y/n, are you letting your worries take over your mind again?” she let out a soft laugh, then turned around to face you “i understand though, i’ve been getting that too. but- are those thoughts really worth it? i mean- we’ll never know unless we try, so i think it’s definitely worth a shot.”
you sighed “still- i don’t think i’d be able to face my parents again if i fail this.”
“y/n...this is not a test. there’s nothing to fail here. personally, i would rather try and regret than live my whole life wondering “what if”.”
you hummed. yeji was right. you hugged her tightly, trying to show her how much you appreciated her comforting words. and just like this, you were finally able to let your body drift off into a deep slumber. it was now or never, and you weren’t just gonna sit there and wait forever.
───⋆☆─────────────
the ride to the vacation house turned out to be a challenge in itself. yeji was the only one with a driver’s license, so you had no choice but to stay in the passenger’s seat with both a gps and a map in hand. unfortunately for yeji, you had one flaw: you were absolutely terrible with directions, meaning that the trip that was supposed to be 6 hours long, ended up taking you 9 hours instead. you got lost in some strange forests twice; yeji pulled over the side of the road multiple times, trying to make sense of the directions you were telling her, occasionally getting out to buy a piece of fresh fruit whenever she spotted a merchant. she said that it was helping her brain think, and that she was also helping to keep a business going. you didn’t need any excuses for fresh fruit though. fresh fruit is good food after all.
when you somehow made it to the house, you felt your body refilling with energy, despite having that whole trip take 10 years off your lifespan. sitting right in front of you was a 2-story house with pale blue walls and a white wooden porch.
“i can’t believe we made it out alive” you said after getting out of the car. you weren’t sure how much more you could endure the constant buzzing of the air conditioner, and yeji’s one and only cd playing on replay.
“you can’t believe we made it? what about me, i was the one having to endure all those truck drivers swearing at me for taking wrong turns, because someone, not telling who, is incapable of using any kind of maps”
“whew- i wonder who that is.” you gasped dramatically “must be tough dealing with them. bet they are a lovely person though”
“they sure are” she giggled “now come on, let’s get our luggage out of the trunk before the heat melts everything away.”
“need a hand with that?” you heard an unfamiliar voice shouting from the distance. you turned around and saw a group of 3 young men coming your way. you and yeji looked at each other dumbfounded, unsure what to answer. you nudged her with your elbow.
“do you know them?”
“no idea who they are...” she whispered back.
“you must be yeji and y/n- right? i’m hueningkai, yeji’s parents let us know that you were coming today, so we stopped by to see if you needed any help” the boy with a brown mullet said. “that’s soobin and this is taehyun” he pointed at the other two, both of them giving you a warm smile and a small wave in return. you were almost too stunned to speak. luckily for you, yeji replied while you were busy staring at them with big eyes.
“i think i recall them mentioning you briefly before leaving. actually, weren’t there supposed to be two more people or am i not remembering well?”
“you must be talking about beomgyu and yeonjun.” soobin answered “their shifts haven’t ended yet so they’re still busy at the beach. we can go over there if you want to after you settle in.”
“sounds great.” you said picking up the first luggage.
“that looks heavy- let me handle that” taehyun replaced the luggage in your hand with a bag. “t-thanks.” you were taken aback by their kindness. boys at your school never even spare a glance in your direction, let alone help you carry something. if it weren’t for the boys, you and yeji would have probably passed out on the floor after moving everything inside.
───⋆☆─────────────
the house was only a 5-minute walk away from the beach, during which you got to learn a tiny bit more about each other. hueningkai told you that he’s the one in charge for making playlists and playing music; soobin worked along with beomgyu at the bar, meanwhile taehyun got a small job as a kitchen assistant because of his newly-found passion for cooking. they were all around your age and yet they seemed to have already found their passions, living life without much worry in mind. you wished you could live like that too, and maybe, just maybe, this was your chance to find that out.
“welcome-“ “-to paradise!” soobin exclaimed spreading his arms in the air.
“woah-” both you and yeji said in unison, making everybody else laugh.
“welcome to paradise indeed” you said, placing your feet on the warm golden sand. there was music playing around you, not too loud so that you could still hear the sound of the waves softly crashing against the shore. it was breath-taking.
“and you haven’t seen everything yet” taehyun chuckled, leading you towards the beach bar. “beomgyu- we’re here!” he shouted.
you squinted your eyes trying to see who this “beomgyu” was from afar, but your vision simply failed you. and when you got closer, you were simply not mentally prepared to face the person in front of you.
“guys i told you not to-“ he started off, seemingly irritated “oh- hi.” he scratched his neck, giving you a shy smile. at that very moment, you swore you felt your heart skip a beat.
“y/n, yeji- this is beomgyu. our one and only barista.”
“the best one in town!” beomgyu added cheerfully.
“ah- so humble too.” taehyun teased him, sighing dramatically.
“hey- what are you implying?” beomgyu sulked, but you couldn’t even pay attention to their bickering. your eyes were way too busy going over beomgyu’s features. ripe, cherry red locks of hair framed his eyes, those eyes that resembled two pearls of boba from a brown sugar milk tea, with long, beautiful eyelashes adoring them. you thought he looked just like a honey bear.
“i’m yeji- it’s nice to meet you” she shook his hand “this is y/n.”
beomgyu smiled and you reached your hand out for him to shake it. his soft hands enveloped yours, and you couldn’t help but notice how bigger they were than yours. you felt his hand lingering for just a few seconds more, and you were already missing his warm touch once he let go.
“so- want to have a look over our menu? it’s on the house” beomgyu offered.
“oh cool i’ll have the-“ soobin started talking, instantly getting cut off by beomgyu “not you- the girls!” he jokingly gave him a death stare “you’ve all been profiting too much off my generosity lately, you don’t deserve any free drinks today.”
you and yeji snickered, they all looked really close to each other, like brothers. it was like you were witnessing a petty fight between siblings.
“one strawberry lemonade for me please!” yeji said.
your eyes were still scanning the menu, hands continuously flipping the pages back and forth as you chewed on your bottom lip. beomgyu leaned over to you, the sweet scent of his citrus perfume invading your senses.
“want me to recommend anything?”
“ah- yes please. there are too many drinks here that sound good.” you replied “nothing with alcohol though, the trip here already gave me a headache.” you glared at yeji, who lifted one eyebrow at you.
he chuckled “people usually enjoy the peach smoothie, myself included. does that sound good?” his deep brown eyes peered into yours, never breaking eye contact- not even for one second. “sounds perfect.” you replied, almost completely absorbed by his gaze.
“until that’s done-” hueningkai chimed in “we should go ahead and meet up with yeonjun too.”
“don’t take too long though” beomgyu said “my shift is ending soon.”
“we’ll be fast- have you seen him around by chance?”
“last time i talked to him he was at the surfing board shop. maybe check that out first?” beomgyu replied, before going to the drinks station to get started on your orders.
“oh- i haven’t seen you around here before?”
you almost jumped out of your seat, startled by the new voice that interrupted your conversation.
“yeonjun! perfect timing.” hueningkai said “we were planning to go looking for you.”
“is that so?” he playfully asked, plopping down on the seat between you and yeji. his voice turned out to be much more attractive than you had anticipated, it was smooth, yet slightly husky and deep. you turned your head to look at him for the first time.
“i’m yeji- and this is...” her voice trailed down, expecting you to answer again. you were frozen, being too immersed to take in yeonjun’s appearance. you could notice his muscular form, not hidden away from the tight-fitted swimming shirt he was wearing. his sharp eyes game him a fox-like charm, making you feel inexplicably drawn to him. in contrast, his plump lips make him look adorable, like a sulky duck. what was a man like him even doing on a secluded beach-? yeji coughed, giving you a small nudge.
“y/n.” you managed to blurt out, a stupid smile plastered on your face.
“ah- huening, why didn’t you mention that such pretty girls were coming here today?” you almost dropped the drink’s coaster you had in your hand as he said that.
“it hasn’t even been 5 minutes and he’s already flirting” taehyun groaned, covering his face with his hands.
beomgyu rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics, setting down the drinks for you and yeji on the counter before finding a seat on the bar stools to join you.
“like i’ve said-“ hueningkai intervened “we were about to look for you. are you done with lessons for today?”
“yup. some kid had a sunstroke so i got off work early”
“what kind of lessons do you teach?” you asked curiosity taking over.
“i’m a surfing teacher for kids.” he answered “it’s a small job to make some money. for you, however- i could do it for free, since you’re cute” he winked at you, making your cheeks flush instantly.
“i’m sure y/n would love to try something new” yeji butted in, answering before you could open your mouth to speak. “that’s what we’re here for, after all. right?”
“right...” you squinted your eyes at her, giving her a light kick with your foot.
“it’s decided then.” he chuckled “i’ll be waiting.”
this is how all the conversations during the first day went like; your mind going blank, with yeji either saving you from embarrassment or only digging your hole deeper. still, you enjoyed it, you ended up staying at the beach long after the sun started to set. the chilly breeze coming from around the sea was made you get up from your seats, at long last.
───⋆☆─────────────
the next day, you found yourself back at the beach sometime in the afternoon. you did everything you could to wake up yeji, but to no avail. the drive here must have completely tired her out, as she was sleeping soundly as a rock. in the end, you let her continue to rest, choosing to go out by yourself.
“so, what’s it gonna be for today?” beomgyu asked, leaning his head on the palm of his head. “may i interest you in one of my signature cocktails, perhaps?”
“i’d love that” you smiled.
this time, you watched as beomgyu prepared your drink. he lifted the sleeves of his dress shirt up, revealing the way his forearm muscles tensed up as he picked up the glass bottles full of alcohol. his precise movements could tell you that he must have had plenty of experience as a barista. your eyes wandered off further, focusing on the way his long slender fingers, still slightly dripping with water from having washed fruits earlier, handled the knife with such skill and care. you remembered the moment you held his hands yesterday, how soft his skin was to your touch- you shook your head, trying to get that thought away.
“all done” beomgyu brought you a tall glass, ripe cherry sitting proudly on top, floating on the ice. “it’s a cherry daiquiri.”
you pushed the straw past your lips, a sweet yet tangy taste filling up your mouth. beomgyu looked at you, eyes gleaming with curiosity and anticipation. feeling a bit mischievous, you put on a serious expression.
“well uh-“ you paused, pursing your lips “this was quite-“
 beomgyu gulped, the content look on his face fading away.
“-quite possibly the best cocktail i’ve ever had” you couldn’t help but burst into laughter upon seeing the cute expression he had on his face. he closed his eyes, tilting his head back and breaking into a smile.
“you had me seriously questioning my bartender skills for a moment there”
“sorry- i had to” you giggled “i really mean it though, i’ve never had something that tasted this good before” beomgyu’s dimple appeared as he tried to conceal the big smile taking over his face.
“y/n!” yeji shouted, jogging to reach the bar.
“look who’s finally up”
“i slept through my alarm- sorry” she sighed, sitting down beside you.
‘not just through your alarm’
you hummed as you continued to sip on your drink, admiring the scenery in front of you. it was a peaceful atmosphere, the catchy beats of the music being sometimes interrupted by the squawking of the seagulls in the distance. right at the shore was a small group of kids, with yeonjun in the middle of them, standing on a surfing board. they all seemed to be bursting with energy, like bottles of soda that were about to explode. yeonjun knew how to match their energy well, while still keeping everything under control.
“instead of staring at him so intensely, why don’t you go and take up his offer?”
you snorted, crinkling your nose “me? surfing? no thanks- i’m saving myself from that embarrassment”
“and? if you only worry about embarrassing yourself then you won’t ever end up making a change with your life” yeji wrapped her arms around her body “-and this exactly what we’re here for, something new. don’t just let this opportunity go to waste.”
you frowned, chewing on your straw. even though your brain didn’t like to admit it, she was right. you were so caught up in your own comfort bubble, that it was holding you back.
“looks like he’s getting a break now” yeji muttered “come on- this is your chance!”
“alright- i’m going��� you agreed at last, gulping down the rest of the drink before heading towards yeonjun’s spot. you walked with a determined look on your face- and shaky hands.
you tapped yeonjun on the shoulder, breath hitching in your throat. yeji watched your interaction from her seat, wishing she could be closer to hear it.
“who-” he turned around “y/n- everything good?”
“yeah.” you answered shortly, playing with your earrings. you weren’t particularly bad at small talk, but this time your mind went blank the moment he started facing you. you couldn’t even meet his eyes, which were staring back directly at you.
“actually- i’ve been thinking about it and, you know those surfing lessons you talked about? i kinda want to give that a shot” you trailed down, your voice becoming higher in pitch towards the end of your sentence.
yeonjun’s face instantly lit up, his smile reaching his eyes “really? when do you want to start then?”
“well, when is your schedule free?” you scratched your neck “i’ve heard you’re pretty busy, i wouldn’t want to be a burden.”
“don’t worry about it, i was the one who asked after all.” he chuckled “i can give you a text later on after checking.” you tilted your head in confusion
“but you don’t have my phone nu-“
oh. he was smooth.
“you got me.” he said sheepishly “i was hoping to get your phone number” there was a sharp constrast to the way he was behaving before. the cool and flirty persona he had been putting on was starting to crumble “if that’s okay with you as well i mean-“
“yeah i’m okay with that” you reassured him “maybe i wanted yours too” you mumbled, heart almost giving out after getting those words out. he laughed again, handing you his phone. you quickly typed your phone number in, saving the contact as “y/n :)”, then you handed him yours.
“i’ll make sure to let you know by tonight”
“great, i’ll be waiting then” you replied playfully, making your way back to the bar.
yeji kept on pressuring you to spill all the details, but you brushed her off, wanting to save the conversation in private. you didn’t even get a chance to breathe properly once you returned home. after locking the door, yeji dragged you by the arm and sat you down on the couch along with her, forcing you to let it all out.
“see? that wasn’t so bad, was it? i’m sure you’re gonna thank me later-“ yeji’s voice was interrupted by a notification coming from your phone. you sat there, frozen, a million thoughts rushing through your mind.
“are you gonna answer that?”
“i- i guess i should” you took your phone, a river bubbling through your veins and flushing your face at the sight of the new message:
(yeonjun<3)
[10:30 pm]: hi cutie ;) are you free tomorrow at 11 am for our first surfing lesson?
“what are you smiling at?”
“nothing” you giggled, hiding the screen of your phone with your hands.
“you’re definitely not giggling because of nothing- let me see.” yeji got on top of you, trying to pry the phone away from your hands. however, her attempt was unsuccessful, as your grip was way too strong.
“you’re leaving me with no choice” she whispered mischievously. you felt your whole life flash before your eyes. you had one great weakness- and yeji knew that. you couldn’t even stand 3 seconds of tickling, so she was going to use it against you. her fingers inched closer to your stomach and attacked you quickly.
“YEJI- stop please-“ you tried to shout between giggles “i surrender- i promise.” she stopped for a brief moment “you promise?” “yeah- now get off me and i’ll give you my phone.” she squinted her eyes, going back to her place on the couch reluctantly. her eyes widened in disbelief when you revealed the new message.
“no fucking way- after two days?? y/n. this guy’s definitely into you”
“i don’t want to jump to conclusions- what if that’s his way of being friendly?” you argued back, realising how foolish your reason sounded only after you finished your sentence.
“y/n- darling, there’s no way a guy who just wants to become friends would save his name with a heart symbol.” she shook you by the shoulders “he. is. into. you.”
“what if-“ you were about to argue again, but the sound of another notification made you stop midway through your sentence. you unlocked your phone, completely unprepared. you and yeji glanced at the screen, then looked back at each other in disbelief, struggling to contain the urge to scream your lungs out.
(unknown number)
[10:50 pm]: hi, y/n! this is beomgyu :)
[10:51 pm]: i got your phone number from yeonjun, hope you don’t mind ;)
───⋆☆─────────────
from the moment you woke up you could feel your heart hammering in your chest. it was hard to tell whether it was from excitement or anxiety. maybe it was a mix of both. still, you were proud of yourself for choosing to do something out of your comfort zone for once. yeji was probably even more excited than you were. she wasn’t a morning person, but she insisted on coming along to watch your lesson and to ‘check your chemistry’.
“which swimsuit should i take? i packed two with me.” you held up a black one-piece swimsuit and a pale blue two-piece one for yeji to see.
“get the two-piece. you look hotter in it.” she playfully winked at you. you reluctantly looked at the swimsuit she chose, cursing yourself in your head for asking. you opened your mouth to voice out your worries, but yeji got up from the bed and put a finger over your mouth “shush, i don’t want to hear any complaints. just trust me on this one- okay?” you silently put the black one back in the drawer and went to the bathroom to get changed, deciding to go with yeji’s pick. “yeonjun’s heart is gonna melt once he sees you.”
you tried to ignore her “let’s go, i don’t want to be late.”
“can’t leave yeonjun hanging?” yeji joked, faking a pout. you lightly slap her arm. “i’m gonna leave without you if you’re not ready.”
“you wouldn’t do that to me- you love me.”
“i sure do...” you tilted your head back, a laugh escaping your lips.
yeonjun was waiting for you at the exact same spot you watched him teach yesterday, nobody else around him this time. for some reason, the thought of being completely alone with him didn’t cross your mind. you could feel a rush of adrenaline flowing through your body, but it was way too late to back down now.
“ready for-“ yeonjun’s words stopped abruptly as soon as he looked at you. he seemed distressed, eyes rapidly going over between you and the warm sand beneath his feet, the tips of his ears flaming red. was this what yeji meant by his heart melting? he cleared his throat before speaking again “ready for our first lesson?”
“i’m a bit nervous” you admitted “but overall excited i think” you didn’t sound very sure of yourself.
“you’ll be fine with me” he flashed you a gentle smile.
yeonjun clasped his hands together “we’ll go over the basics first”
“you need to catch waves in order to start surfing, and how do you do that? you paddle.” yeonjun put down a surfing board onto the sand. “to paddle, you need to lie and balance on your surfboard. let me demonstrate it for you” yeonjun laid his body on the board, his back now facing you.
“when you do this, make sure that the angle of the board’s nose doesn’t change. it should remain the same as when you weren’t on top of the board, not higher, not lower.”
“got it.”
“you shouldn’t paddle with both arms simultaneously, as this won’t help you maintain a constant speed. alternate between both arms at a steady pace”
you were in awe at yeonjun’s professional aura, he explained things calmy, while still maintaining a firm voice.
“let’s get this board into the water so you can give that a try.”
you looked at yeonjun with wide eyes, your nerves had just started to settle down a bit and now they were going off like fireworks again.
he laughed lightly “no need to worry, i’ll be right beside you.” yeonjun pushed the board into the sea, not too far away from the shore so that the water level wouldn’t be too high. he held on to it so that you could get lie down with ease. “when paddling keep your chin up so that you can look around.”
you tried to do just as he said, mimicking his movements from earlier. you didn’t want to know how goofy you looked from another person’s point of view.
“just like that” yeonjun whispered “see? you’re a natural! i think we can move on to the next step- getting up. we won’t be riding any waves today, we need to make sure you get this technique right”
you turned your head towards his direction, a petrified look on your face.
“come on, i’ll help you” yeonjun held out his hand for you to take, moving the other on your waist to help you maintain your balance as you moved up with shaky feet. his touch made you feel flustered and you lost your focus, accidentally slipping on the board. luckily, yeonjun was there to catch you before you could face-plant into the water.
“easy does it. don’t worry, it’s tricky to get it right on the first try” he held you again, his grip on your hand tighter than the first time. you held your breath as you made your second attempt, this time ending successful.
“no way- i did it” you exclaimed.
yeji’s and beomgyu’s cheers could be heard all the way from the bar, making you burst into laughter. your cheeks turned rosy as you noticed your hand still holding yeonjun’s.
“you’re doing amazing, cutie” your face felt even hotter at the sound of the nickname.
“let’s try that a few more times”
and so you did. again, and again, and again. yeonjun didn’t let you go until you had at least 3 successful attempts in a row. the both of you settled down on a sunbed, munching on some ice cream as a reward for your success.
“do you like it here so far?” yeonjun asked.
“we haven’t had the chance to do much yet but- i think i do. the beach alone is enough for me to enjoy my time here.” you took a bite of the ice cream cone “by the way- i was wondering, how come you started surfing?”
“i fell in love with the beach after my uncle taught me how to surf.” you looked up to meet his eyes. you could see the way they lit up as he explained everything further. “the gentle breeze, the adrenaline, the warm sun touching my skin- i felt like i couldn’t get enough of it.” he tilted his head back and stretched out his arms “i tried to go back to the city, but i couldn’t resist being away from all of this, so now- i get to do exactly what i love.” he smiled.
you stared at the ice cream in your hand, watching it melt from the heat. his words tugged at your heart; in a way, you were feeling jealous of how content he seemed to be with his life.
“sounds really nice” you smiled back, biting your lips. you could almost feel your stomach turning, your previous worries were coming on at lightning speed. the sound of yeonjun’s voice out of it.
“i’m glad you took up on my offer, it’s nice to share something i enjoy with a lovely person like you.” your worries dissipated, being replaced by butterflies in your stomach instead.
───⋆☆─────────────
you continued your lessons with yeonjun up until the middle of the summer. it was clear by now that you were definitely not a surfing prodigy, but you didn’t want to stop. you didn’t know when it would be the next time you got to do something like this. besides, having yeonjun’s attention all on you was nice. or at least, until little kids started stealing him away from you.
“teacher yeonjun- can you help me find my rubber duck? i lost it in the water.” the kid sobbed, tugging on yeonjun’s swimming shorts. yeonjun looked at the kid then at you, conflicted.
“go on-“ you reassured him with a smile “i got it.”
“i’ll be quick.” yeonjun grabbed the kids hand, sprinting towards the area of the “lost duck”.
you lifted your body on the surfing board, closing your eyes for a brief moment and taking a deep breath of the cool beach air. you were all alone now. this was your chance to get away from your thoughts, your worries; to simply shift your focus on all your other senses. somehow, you were feeling nostalgic- nostalgic for a moment that hasn’t even fully passed yet. if only it was possible to keep those feelings locked away, so you could revisit them whenever you wanted to.
yet, your happiness was cut short. you let your guard down too much, and were completely unaware of the danger right in front of you. beomgyu’s shout snapped you out of it. you opened your eyes, only to see an enormous wave centimeters away from you. you froze, not knowing what to do. a million thoughts ran through your mind; before you could even make a decision, the wave crashed into you, sending your body flying down into the water, your head hitting the surfing board in the process. the glass that beomgyu was holding slipped from his hand, shattering to the ground. he swiftly jumped over the counter, then took his shirt off, his eyes frantically searching around the water for you. instead, he saw yeonjun diving in the water, already 2 steps ahead from him. it was childish to race with yeonjun to save you. beomgyu ran back to the bar, hands shaking as he searched for a first med kit and a towel.
you couldn’t keep your eyes open as the salty water gave you a burning sensation almost instantly. you flailed your arms around, in an attempt to save yourself, but the more you moved, the more it felt like you were sinking down. you were almost ready to stop when you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you back up towards the surface.
“i got you, don’t worry” yeonjun breathed out, hooking one of his arms under your legs and holding your shoulders with the other. your hands hanged loosely around his neck, desperately coughing up the water that entered your system.
“try to stand on your side if you can”
yeonjun laid you down on the nearest sunbed, and you did just as he said, bringing your knees to your chest as your coughing fit continued. “don’t panic, just let it all out” he said softly as he rubbed his hands down your back to soothe you.
yeonjun called out yeji’s name, gesturing for the others to remain in their place for now, as a group of people surrounding you could have been overwhelming. still, beomgyu chose to trail down behind yeji as she walked towards you. he covered you with the towel he found and left a cold bottle of water on the ground next to you before going up to yeonjun.
“can we talk for a sec?” he said, grabbing yeonjun’s arm to bring him further down the beach, without waiting for an answer from him.
“hey- how are you feeling now?” yeji crouched down, holding your hand and gently rubbing her thumb against it.
“better, i think” you answered, trying to put on a smile for her, even though you were still shaken up from what happened earlier.
“where did the others go? i didn’t even get to thank yeonjun-” you raised your body a little bit, looking around the beach.
“don’t even worry about that right now.” yeji was quick to push your shoulders back down. yeji knew why beomgyu was so quick to take yeonjun away. she knew how angry he was with him for leaving you alone so carelessly, and she knew how he was also angry with himself for not acting faster earlier. witnessing them arguing wouldn’t have done you any good. “just rest a little bit more so we can go back home. i’m sure you’ll have another opportunity to thank him soon.”
you looked down. you felt guilty for what happened, even though what happened was outside of your control. you let out a groan and brought a hand to your head, a pounding ache taking over.
“does it hurt?“ yeji asked. you removed your head from its place, only to see a small trail of blood dripping down your fingers.
“everything okay?” you heard yeonjun shout, jogging towards you. he was out of breath, bringing his hands to rest on his knees, cheeks flushed a deep shade of red; it seemed like he ran all the way back. beomgyu, however, was nowhere in sight. “let me see” his eyebrows furrowed as he came closer. he moved your hair behind your ear to inspect your injury. “it’s nothing serious. it’s just a surface level wound, but we need to clean it up.”
“here, beomgyu gave this to me earlier” yeonjun took the med kit from yeji and placed it beside you on the sunbed.
“please tell me if it hurts”
you nodded and he grabbed your chin, then started to gently dab your head with a wet cloth. your eyes shily glanced over at his face. you didn’t realise until then just how close he was sitting next to you. his eyes were only focused on your wound and he was biting his lips in concentration. his hands were shaking a little bit, too afraid to cause you any type of pain. unknowingly, you were holding your breath, heart beating out of control. you couldn’t understand why it was that your body was reacting this way, even in a situation like this, how he still had you wrapped around his finger, melting under his feathery touches.
“this should make it heal faster” yeonjun said, putting some ointment on the wound before covering it with a bandaid. “-and this too” he whispered, leaving a small kiss on that same spot. “i’m so sorry y/n. you are still a beginner and i shouldn’t have left you all alone like that, it was stupid-“ you stopped his rambling by pulling him in for a hug. “hey- don’t blame yourself so harshly. what happened was outside of your control. if you were there maybe you would have gotten injured too.” you hugged him tighter “i wouldn’t have wanted to see you hurt either.”
“you’re right...” yeonjun sighed, combing his fingers through your hair “still- i’ll find a way to make it up to you, i promise.”
“hey- i know you’re having a sweet moment and all, but it’s getting late and we should really get going” yeji interrupted. you slowly moved away from yeonjun, whispering a ‘thank you’ against his ear before finally letting go and getting up.
once at home, you hopped into the shower to wash off the salt off your body. you changed into more comfortable clothes, slumping into your bed, your body melting into the mattress. you were mindlessly scrolling through social media, your eyes feeling heavier with each minute that passed. you were on the point of dozing off when you saw a notification appear on your screen.
(gyu :) )
[beomgyu, 9:17 pm] y/n! how are you feeling now? :(
[y/n, 9:17 pm] definitely better now, especially because of your help :)
[beomgyu, 9:17 pm] i’m glad
[beomgyu, 9:18 pm] are you busy rn?
[y/n, 9:18 pm] no, why?
[beomgyu, 9:18 pm] look outside the window ;)
confused, you got up from the bed and peeked through the window blinds, spotting a smiling beomgyu waving his hand at you from the sidewalk. you couldn’t help but return his smile as you looked at him, already in his pyjamas with a jacket over his shirt and a small basket in his hand. you opened the window and shouted “wait- i’ll be down in a sec.” stumbling as you rushed to climb down the stairs and put on your shoes. you quickly ran your fingers through your hair and took a deep breath to regain your composure. you were taken aback when you saw beomgyu right in front of you, hand raised up to knock on the door just as you opened it.
“hi.” he spoke softly.
“hi-” you breathed out “want to come in?”
“ah-“ he cleared his throat, his eyes meeting the floor instead of your face “i just wanted to bring you this.” he brought the hand holding the basket in front of you, its contents hidden away with the help of a pink wrapping paper. you pushed it to the side, careful so as not to rip it too much. your eyes widened once you discover small boxes with fresh assorted fruits like strawberries, cherries, grapes...and a tiny bear plush placed in the middle of everything.
“thought these might cheer you up a bit. i snuck those away from the bar once my shift ended. don’t tell on me though, soobin might kick my ass if he finds out”
“beomgyu-“ you stammered “thank you, but you didn’t have to-” you were pushing the basket back towards him, overwhelmed by his sweet gestures. he caught your wrists with his hands, moving them towards your chest.
“but i did have to” he leaned down, bringing his face to the same level as your own “if i saw you smile, then that means it was worth it, even if i do get in trouble” his words rolled off his tongue slowly, with a low rasp. you noticed the way beomgyu’s eyes moved away from yours to glance at your lips, then going back to the floor, stopping for a second, hesitating, before deciding to quickly steal away a kiss from your cheek.
“go back inside now, you should get some rest.”
without even realising it, you brought a hand up to your face, touching the same spot he just caressed with his lips. he tilted his head, chuckling after seeing your flustered expression. “good night, y/n” he put his hands in his pockets, turning his back to walk towards the alleyway.
what you weren’t aware of though, was just how loudly beomgyu’s heart was beating against his chest.
───⋆☆─────────────
the end of august, also known as the start of the party season at the beach. with tourists ending their trips and leaving soon, as well as with the weather on the cusp of changing, the workers at the beach started preparing for their annual series of events (which was actually more of an excuse to make people purchase more alcohol)
“we’re doing what tonight?” you asked yeji, resisting the urge to throw the pillow in your lap at her.
“listen- i know you’re finding out about this late, but-“
“but?” you pressed your lips together, lifting an eyebrow.
“but you would have declined the invitation right away-“ yeji sighed “now it’s too late to tell them that we’re not going. remember our promise? to take up on new opportunities?”
you remained silent, crossing your arms and glaring at yeji.
“come on, it’s the first party. if you don’t like it then i won’t pressure you to go to the rest. let’s just try it and see how it goes” yeji got on her knees, holding your hand and looking at you with pleading eyes.
“fine.” you gave in, yeji’s words managed to persuade you yet again. she squealed, capturing you in a tight hug. she wasted no time to drag you into her room and help you get ready. her face was basically radiating as she showed you all the makeup and outfit choices, there was just no way you could refuse her anymore. you just let her do her thing, putting all your trust into her tastes.
the more you walked towards the beach, the louder the music was becoming. you were tempted to do a full 180 and make a run for it, but your conscience didn’t allow you. plus, you truly believed that yeji would simply take her heels off to go after you and drag you back. you felt out of place in the big crowd of people, overwhelmed by the loud beats combining with people shouting in a poor attempt to communicate with each other. you were busy frantically scanning the area for a familiar figure, but you somehow missed yeonjun coming right in your direction. you were taken aback when you noticed him standing in front of you.
“hi, cutie. glad to see you here” yeonjun greeted you.
“hi-“ your eyes trailed down over his body. his white button-up shirt wasn’t closed all the way, giving you a peek at his exposed chest and the delicate silver necklace sitting on top of it. you bit your lip trying to shift your focus from the pretty man in front of you back to the conversation. he winked at you when you tried to make eye contact with him again. shit. your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red; he definitely noticed you staring at him. you quickly turned around and took a shot from the drinks table close to you. you grimaced as the alcohol sent a dash of fire down your throat, yet you still extended your hand for more.
yeji grabbed your arm “hey- hey, take it easy. we only just arrived.”
“and i’ve already embarrassed myself” you whispered back, covering your face with your hands.
“i’m sure whatever you did isn’t that bad. you’re gonna embarrass yourself more if you get wasted within the first hour anyway.”
you pressed your lips together. she was right- you just didn’t want to admit it out loud. “come on, i want to check out the dessert table. i heard soobin did a pretty good job with that” yeji said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you along with her.
yeji tested out almost every single dessert at the party. each time she took a bite of something new, she insisted that you tried it too because “this one was really the best”. you found it amusing but in some way, she was right, soobin really outdid himself this time. the cupcakes in particular were your favorite. the cake was so soft and moist, and the frosting was soft like velvet, immediately melting down on your tongue. they were seriously addicting. you were about to dive into another vanilla cupcake when you felt a tap on your shoulder. it was yeonjun who came up to you again.
“y/n- join me for a dance?”
your eyes glanced back at yeji, then at the cupcake in your hand. you were very tempted to say yes, but you didn’t want to leave her alone either. the idea of abandoning your cupcake didn’t sound that good either.
“go ahead” yeji said, snatching the cupcake you were holding. “i was about to go to hueningkai anyway- i wanted to have a look at his playlist. have fun you two” she sent a wink your way before quickly leaving, not even sparing you a chance to argue.
“shall we?” yeonjun stretched out his hand for you to take, which you nervously took. he led you to the middle of the dance floor, making you internally panic. having not gone to many parties in your lifetime, you weren’t confident in showing off your dance moves, especially right in front of yeonjun.
yeonjun must have sensed your worries, dipping down to whisper in your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “just focus on me- don’t mind everyone else.” you were still holding his hand, so he took this chance to lift his arm up and playfully spin you around. you couldn’t help but giggle, slowly starting to ease up. you tried to ignore everyone else invading your vision, focusing on him and only him as you swayed your body along the rhythm of the music. you couldn’t help yourself but grab two more shots, one for you and one for yeonjun, when you saw one of the baristas coming down your way with a silver platter full of alcoholic drinks. ‘it’s for a little confidence boost’ you told yourself. for tonight, you were finally allowing yourself to be free from any worries, and to simply enjoy the moment.
you weren’t aware of how much time had passed since you stepped foot on the dance floor, and you were very tempted to take a break and let your legs rest for a while. but it seemed like the dj wasn’t going to let that happen anytime soon. the up-beat music that had been playing for the past hour was suddenly changed to a slow, jazzy song. you looked up at yeonjun with wide eyes, and he bit his lips, looking as surprised as you did. yet, he didn’t pull away. his hands dropped down from their position on your shoulders, trailing down your arms and then moving to your waist, leaving hot trails everywhere he touched your body. your body unconsciously moved closer to his, a bright red blush adoring your cheeks. your mind couldn’t focus on anything else but his hands on you. the sound of the music combining with your loud heartbeat made you feel light-headed.
“i want to kiss you” he whispered, resting his forehead on yours, his grip on your waist tightening “but if i do then i might not be able to contain myself.” he breathed out. your hand moved up to the nape of his neck, about to give in to the sweet temptation, when all of a sudden taehyun lightly tugged yeonjun by the collar of his shirt, creating distance between the two of you.
“loverboy, go check up on soobin, he’s having trouble setting up the fog machine”
“right now?”
“yes, now. come on” taehyun grabbed yeonjun, not letting him argue. ‘strange’ you remembered that the fog machine was already on when you arrived.
yeji and beomgyu appeared by your side just a few seconds later “where’s yeonjun?”
“ah- soobin was searching for him. guess i was kind of abandonded” you tried to laugh it off “can we go somewhere quieter?” the music is starting to mess with my brain.
“i��ll grab some drinks and i’ll meet you near the shore, there’s some log benches there.”
you nodded, holding onto yeji’s sleeve so as not to lose her. you felt like you could finally breathe again once you stepped foot on the sand. you couldn’t lie, parties did seem fun, but those where you’re almost completely surrounded by strangers? not so much. you held on until most people left, enjoying yeji’s and beomgyu’s company, cracking silly jokes as you kept on drinking. it was only after midnight when the rest of the boys joined you, with a few of the other people lingering around.
“anybody up for a few rounds of truth or dare?” yeji shouted.
“i’m in” beomgyu replied, raising his hand.
“i guess i’m in too” you sighed. truth or dare wasn’t really your cup of tea, but you didn’t want to ruin the other’s mood.
“everybody gather around the fire then” yeonjun said “and remember- no buts, no maybes” he snickered.
you noticed how beomgyu looked at you and opened his mouth, then closed it back again after yeonjun said down next to him. his body seemed to slump down after that; you wondered whether it was you who he wanted to sit close to.
“i’ll be the one to get this started” yeonjun stated, looking at every person over the hot flames of the fire, only for his eyes to land back on the person to his right. “beomgyu, truth or dare?”
beomgyu paused for a moment, then answered simply “truth.”
“you’re starting off easy?” he asked, the words rolling off his tongue with a playful, yet mischievous tone “well then- beomgyu, do you have a crush?”
“yes.” he answered shortly. beomgyu was sitting right across from you, and you could notice his body slowly tensing up as his arms hugged his waist tighter.
“and is your crush by any chance here with us?” yeonjun probed on further.
“that’s 2 questions” beomgyu frowned, looking at him.
“you didn’t let me finish.” yeonjun raised his hands defensively.
“yes- they are.” he answered then took a sip of his beer. however, what you failed to notice was him sneaking a glance in your direction as he said that.
everybody around you let out an “ooo” at beomgyu’s answer; people were giggling and nudging beomgyu, teasing him to reveal the name of the person. for some reason, the fact that he had a crush was tugging at your heartstrings. you were secretly hoping that the person he was talking about was you, but you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself.
“my turn now-“ beomgyu took another sip, his eyes scanned the room, then stopped on your figure. “y/n, truth or dare?”
you pondered for a moment. “truth.” you didn’t want to be the first one to try a dare, even if it was from beomgyu. he smiled “have you ever been in a relationship?” he asked, eyes sparkling from the light of the fire.
“no, actually.” you sighed “i was always too busy stressing over school- and look where that got me” you looked down and chuckled drily.
beomgyu nodded, seemingly getting a bit lost in thought. he wanted to continue, to talk to you more, but he restrained himself from doing so. he knew that this wasn’t the right moment to discuss your private life, not with everyone else around.
“let’s see- who should be the next victim?” you clicked your tongue “soobin- what do you prefer?”
───⋆☆─────────────
two hours of truth or dare later, soobin’s last shot was the one that tipped him off, and yeonjun offered to guide him back home before he had the chance to throw up on the beach. a few people stated that they were going to the bathroom, but in fact never returned; you didn’t want to know why. yeji was too tired to stay there any longer, so she left you behind. meaning, it was only you and beomgyu left on the now quiet beach. the fire was dying down, and beomgyu scooted closer to you, offering to share a blanket.
“how does one more round sound?” he asked you.
“i wouldn’t mind that” you laughed, feeling a bit nervous all of a sudden.
“truth or dare?” beomgyu whispered.
“dare.”
“dare, huh...?” he muttered “i dare you to dive into the water.” beomgyu smirked, playfully tilting his head to the side.
you were taken aback by his words, but your stubbornness didn’t allow you to back down.“okay.” you said, looking into his eyes. “turn around then. i don’t want my dress to get wet.”beomgyu’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to accept his dare. still, he did just like you asked.
you slid your dress off, then carefully placed it on one of the seats. you inhaled air deeply into your lungs as you approached the water, then jumped straight in, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible.
“truth or dare?” you shouted.
“dare.” beomgyu shouted back.
“i dare you to join me.”
beomgyu wasted no time taking off his shirt then quickly diving into the water, splashing you in the process. you immediately returned the favour when he got back up to the surface.
“hey- you’re gonna pay for that” he jokingly threatened you.
“make me.”
you both attacked each other with water, only the sound of your laughter filling up the quietness of the now peaceful night. “okay- i surrender.” beomgyu shouted again, catching your wrists with his hands to finally make you stop. he got closer to you, your laughter dying down as his close proximity made you feel nervous.
“you look so beautiful in the moonlight” he said as he hooked his finger around yours, guiding you around in the water. and you followed him mindlessly, as if you as if he’s got you right under his spell. his hands detached themselves from your own, moving to your waist. and you were so close to him, nose to nose, his breath combining his yours, his eyelashes tickling your lids- and yet, you still couldn’t allow yourself. you couldn’t allow yourself to be victim of your foolish desires.
you looked over your shoulder, worried that someone might have come back and noticed what was happening. what if someone saw you two? saw the two of you fooling around in the blue waves of the sea, what if someone saw his fingers trailing your back or how your own nested at his nape? your brain kept thinking of all the possible ways you might get in trouble, fighting to remain in power as his hot breath gathered itself at your neck, distracting yourself from any rational thoughts.
“y/n! are you still here?” you suddenly heard a voice shouting, which you recognised was yeji’s.
“yeah-“ you shouted back “don’t worry, i’ll be back soon no need to wait for me”
“send me a text when you leave!” she shouted again before walking away.
you looked at beomgyu with apologetic eyes.
“guess i can’t have you all for myself tonight.” he looked at you with a soft smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “yeji’s stealing you away from me again.” he laughed.
“i’m sorry...” you whispered, lowering your head.
"there's no need to apologise", he said, a beat of heart and a pause following his words, "it's getting late anyway, you should rest, especially after such a night." the wind picked up your sigh before it could reach him, before it could whisper to him to come closer again, to take a step towards you, warm hands to envelop your waist and soft hair locks to tickle your skin again. you took a step back. "what an eventful night" you said under your breath. "what an eventful night", he picks up your words just as they roll off your tongue, giving you a smile. the air between you kept getting thicker and thicker, unspoken words and wishes weighing the both of you further into the soft shore. “wait just a second- i’ll be right back.” he rushed to get out of the water and sprinted to the bar. as he was coming back you could see him holding a small towel, which he handed to you.
“here, it’s nothing much, but i thought it might help you dry off- at least a little bit” he said rubbing the nape of his neck.
“it’s great” you smiled “thank you, beomgyu.”
he was also holding something behind his back, which he only revealed after you were done using the towel and putting your dress back on.
“have this too...” he looked away, the tips of his ears turning a pretty shade of pink. “i don’t want you to feel cold” he was holding out his white button up shirt for you to wear. you could feel your body reacting the same way as you thanked him and slided your arms into the sleeves. the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the soft material setting your heart on fire.
the walk back home was quiet, spent with the both of you sneaking a few shy glances at each other, his hand brushing against your ever so often, itching to hold yours again. for the first time during your stay you were disappointed that your house was so close to the beach, because it meant that you and beomgyu had to part ways so quickly.
“oh! your shirt- i almost forgot. let me take it off-“ 
his hands reacted fast, stopping you before you could do that “no- keep it, please. it looks good on you”
“o-oh. thank you” you stuttered. the both of you hesitated to part ways once again, too enticed by each other’s presence.
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beomgyu's ending | yeonjun's ending
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