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tteokdoroki · 8 months

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✩ — ANGELS SHOULD NEVER FALL THIS FAR FROM HEAVEN ⁀➷ everyone believes satoru gojo to be an angel. your mother considers her new son to be a blessing, even if he’s bratty and spoiled. but never once did think teasing him would make your step-brother to act on such ungodly desires. (3.2K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, pwp, college!au, religious imagery, step-cest, groping, fingering, ‘just the tip’, exhibitionism, clothed sex, male masturbation, slight degradation, bratty behaviour, use of oneesan, unprotected sex, ruined orgasms, cumplay, fem!reader, step-bro!gojo.

things to note. lol sorry it’s been a while !! trying a new layout also posting this into the void while i work on kinktober eee !! idk i’ve had a rough time trying to write a one shot so im glad i could make this !! special thanks to @kishibye for beta reading. i hope you enjoy this bestie boos ily <3

“what are you doing?” there’s a sharp edge to the tone of satoru’s voice, splayed across his tongue that holds back a stream of curses. his eyes speak fury in their piping hot flames of wild cerulean as he watches you enter the kitchen and shoot straight for the snack cupboard.

you can feel the weight of his gaze as it crosses the slopes of your body, from the back of your head, twirling around your curves before ultimately falling to your behind.

playing innocent, you stand on your tip toes and grasp at the bag of chips you’re after. the ones on the top shelf. “whaddya mean ‘what am i doing’?”

“what do you mean what do i mean?” your step brother retorts childishly, as if you’re two kids fighting on a playground at recess.

you click your tongue and pay him no mind. “don’t be such a baby, satoru,” you wave a hand in his face in a haughty manner. “use your big boy words.”

gojo suppresses a whine when your shirt rides up and reveals your skin to gorgeous eyes. he lets it gargle around in his throat like the sting of cool mouthwash, before striding over to you — grabbing the chips and slamming the cupboard shut so hard it makes you jump.

“you can’t just walk around dressed like that.”

he gestures to your get up — the clothes you wear when nobody’s home. your sapphire silly and scallop-edged panties, your old and ratty band t-shirt haphazardly thrown on.

“why?” you turn around to come face to face with your younger (step)brother, noting the way his stare hones in on the plush meat of your thighs as you squish them together — leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“my friends are coming over.”

“so, what’s the big deal?” there’s something about pissing gojo off that entertains you. he’s a brat by all means, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and daddy’s dollars tucked into his pockets. whenever there’s a problem, all it takes is a classic ‘toru temper tantrum and your parents are on the scene to fix things for him. he’ll never know the hardships of being raised by a single mother, always having a little less than most. he walks around in his own little bubble of riches - and you can’t help but want to pop it. “shoko thinks i’m cool and geto will probably jack off to me later. it’s whatever.”

“but it’s not whatever,” you can practically see satoru fight the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child — even going as far to have the audacity to pout down at you. “you’ll just embarrass me. so do us both a favour and put some clothes on, nobody wants to see all that ‘round the house.”

“do you own this house?”

“no but i-“

“but your daddy does. and daddy isn’t here! so shut up, satoru!” jabbing a finger into his chest, you smile up at your not-so-little little step-brother, evilly. “i make the rules.”

“oh fuck you. all you do is mooch off of my dad, princess. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your mom whoring it out for him.” he sneers in response, upper lip curling into a distasteful snarl like a dog with a stranger on its territory. his words, though cruel and foul, are far from the truth and you know that he doesn’t mean it. satoru is a brat that throws acid laced words at anyone who gets in his way — yourself included.

even though you agree that your parents tied the knot all too fast — barely giving the two of you a chance to get to know each other as siblings. they were in love and far too happy for the rivalry between their children to get in the way. you know that the fact pissed gojo off to no end, he hated how your mother doted on him and how he’d always needed to fight for his father’s attention. now it certainly wasn’t ever going to be on him. but the two women in his house instead.

your poor, spoiled, baby brother.

however, you won’t let his words and how he projects onto you, hurt you. “whoops! looks like i dropped my will to give a fuck!” whilst pretending to drop your snack, you bend over in front of him to reveal inches of beauty marked and blemished flesh, drawing hungry seafoam eyes to the bounce of showing your ass — testing your little step brother. “i don’t care satoru, i’m older.”

satoru’s mouth snaps shut after moments of wordlessly opening and closing. he stands frozen on the spot, as if he can’t seem to process the very idea that his older step-sister had just flashed him to prove a point.

but just when you think you’ve won, the silver-haired brat is pressed right up behind you, forcing your body to bend over the cold marble counter that instantly has your nipples hardening against the icy surface. heat rushes to your face, blossoming just under the barrier of your skin as his hard on nestles it’s way between your ass cheeks — a symphony of your surprised squeaks echoing through the modern kitchen.

“hey! what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

instead of responding, he pushes your head down against the counter — circling his increasingly wet erection against your behind, manhandling the globes of flesh back onto his dick. “not so fun, is it.” he coos down at you, voice chilly and full of condescending highs and lows. “yanno…you’re awfully mean to me.”

saliva pools on your tongue, weighing it down in your mouth like a paperweight as satoru’s girth slips downwards, seedy tip brushing over panty clad and your swollen clit. “aren’t oneesan’s s’pposed to take care of their baby brothers?” his breath is hot and ragged against your ear as gojo haunches over you, caging you in like a wild animal as you thrash and writhe under his touch.

you can’t even bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame when gojo’s left hand dances between your tangled limbs and slips past the frilly band of your underwear — ghosting over the throbbing pearl laying between your sticky pussy lips. “step…step brother!” you whinge at the tingle of pleasure that blooms in your lower tummy and spreads like angel wings throughout the rest of your body.

satoru takes turns playing with you, alternating between his nimble, skilled fingers and his seedy girth that smears precum all over your inner thighs and panties. “like that even fuckin’ matters.” he laughs, twisted and proud. “could you get off like this? yeah i think you could…. you’re already so wet. just from grinding on your little brother’s cock.”

your legs grow shaky at his ministrations, beads of your juices oozing from your empty entrance to stain the man’s sweats, slicking him up as if it’s a signature of your claim. “‘toru!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into the depth of your skull. “m-more.”

“look at how fast you fold for me…” he pushes up your shirt so that the fabric pools around your waist — pawing at the fat there, massaging your hips softly as if he isn’t violently, cruelly rubbing one out on your achey pussy. “i don’t think you’re in a position to ask me for more, big sis.” satoru taunts, a heavy hand coming down on the bare skin of your ass, leaving a raw handprint in its place. “such a nasty slut, i bet you’d let me fuck you like this too. out in the open, where anyone could catch us.”

you yelp in surprise at the feeling of gojo’s messy, cream coated cockhead nudge at your entrance from over your panties — a slender finger pulling the soaked material to the side so he can fuck you with his tip. “oh, i bet you’d like that, huh baby?” he continues to purr, jutting his hips forward ever so slightly — feeding your greedy cunt a few more inches of him. satoru’s barely sheathed inside of you, but you’re already stretching deliciously around what he’s given you. he’s fat, girthy just as he is long and his mushroom tip drags along sensitive spots in your walls you didn’t even know you had.

he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

you sob, wail and writhe on your little step brother’s cock, nails clawing at the marble counter while your breath escapes you. “satoru, please fuck me. ‘m sorry… sorry—!”

“shh big sis, you’re being too loud,” he cups a hand over your mouth. gojo eases two digits past your plump lips to pacify your cries as he shallowly pumps his wet cock into the heat of your sex — gritting his teeth to hide his own moans. “we…fuck, you’re tight as shit… we wouldn’t want my friends to know that you dress like a slut for my cock, would we?”

you shake your head with a muffled moan, suckling the taste of yourself from gojo’s fingers and breathing heavily through your nose. “no, we wouldn’t. that’s right. good girl, oh shit.”

satoru laughs, a little cocky and a little drawn out in a long, whiny whimper over the wet slap of the backs of your thighs in the front of his own. but he trembles from behind you, like his legs are about to give out every time your creamy cunt sucks a little more of him in. it’s a miracle he’s managed to hold you both up.

guilt wracks your body intertwining with the red blood cells coursing through your veins and carrying limited oxygen to your brain — your head practically empty at how your little brother ruins you on half of his fat cock. this isn’t right, this is completely wrong and yet you feel yourself coming undone — weak in the knees and shaky in your lips, the dam in your lower tummy threatening to burst at any second and flood the room in an erotic river of your arousal.

pushing your head off of the counter, you lean into satoru, throwing your ass back onto him in rhythm with the harshness of his thrusts. everything is hotter, heavier and you can’t even think about how much of a bad step-sister you are when he’s dominating your body like this. the silky locks of satoru’s silvering hair press against your shoulder and he wraps a fist in the fabric of your shirt to pull you further back onto his cock.

“‘m gonna c-cum, oh god!” you squeal, flinching as your juices crudely slap against the kitchen floor. “i’m so close!”

he pants into your ear like a desperate dog, fully wrapping himself around you and trapping you against the counter so that you have nowhere to go except towards your high. “yeah?” gojo breathes heatedly, temperate breath cascading over the back of your neck and only adding fuel to your fire of desire. “i can tell, you get like this. all needy ‘n cute when you’re about to cum.”

his words have you clenching around his bulbous tip every time it pushes up against the pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had — your arousal catching in the pretty blue veins that spiral around the length of gojo’s shaft. “you don’t think i can’t hear you, big sis? late at night when you think everyone’s sleepin’….” his whistle tone moans are quickly replaced by deep growls and grunts that only just manage to escape from between the gritted rows of your step brother’s pearly whites. “when you stuff those tiny fingers into that tight little hole and—“

he reaches down between your mess of slick soaked limbs to land a harsh smack against your quivering pussy, sending the foamy ring of white where your bodies join flying about the place. “—and make yourself cum to the thought of me?” he continues, breathing ragged and laughing at you again when you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“s-satoru!”

he soothes you with quick circles over your swollen clit and kisses to your shoulder — being careful not to leave marks. “oh did that hurt, baby? am i the mean one now?” licking a stripe up the side of your face and tasting the sweat on your glistening skin, satoru rambles on — filling you up with praises and copious amounts of precum. “you know i—fuck— you know i love you. my precious big sister, so fucking good to me. let’s make you cum, yeah?”

you’re allowed to rut back on him for a little longer, since he loves the sound of his name whirling around messily on your tongue, all high-pitched and sugar coated for him. if only you knew how badly he’d wanted you, how pissed he was when his father went on to marry your mother. gojo has wanted you since the very first night you met — his every waking thought has been carefully carved to lust after you, think of your eyes, your smile, your lips. fuck, everything about you has satoru under some kind of spell.

“r-right there. right there, t-there!” you chant the words like they’re the a prayer, as if they’re the only ones you know, allowing satoru to throw you through the loop of pleasure until you’re too far gone to stay on the ride.

angling his slender hips upwards, his cockhead bares down on the gummy centre of your g-spot just has he buries himself inside of you — right up to the hilt. “h-here? this where you want me, big sis?” gojo’s amused gasp turns into a coo when you let out a meek hum of agreement, babling wild nonsense and drooling into the counter you’re pressed against. “mmhm, got you creamin’ around me already. so cute, so good when you listen. when you’re a good t’me, oneesan.”

the honorific alone has your mouth running dry as if it’s been stuffed with cotton. though the syrupy pap, pap, pap of your sex says otherwise. it tells the truth of your sin.

and the thing that you don’t know about satoru is that he loves to give, feeding pieces of himself to you as he fucks you wild in the middle of your family kitchen. he wants you to have all of him, every corner and inch of his body just like he dreamed about. he knows it’s forbidden and that it’s wrong, but he can’t help but relish in the feeling of your pretty pussy sucking him in so selfishly, greedily clamping down on his thick base.

he would give you anything. anything you wanted and asked for if you’d let him. his hands slip from your waist to intertwine with yours splayed out on the cool marble surface, using his last spurts of energy to drag you towards your orgasm and the deep depths of sinner’s paradise.

“fuck me, fuck me, baby.” he growls possessively against the shell of your ear. “let go for me. lemme see how much you love your little brother—“

the crescendo of your pleasure is at an all time high, about to come crashing down on you like a tonne of heavy bricks.

that is until the door bell rings, accompanied by the sound of geto’s voice from the outside of the house. “yoo, satoru! open up!”

you’d think that you’d have been good enough for your little step-brother to keep going — to push onwards and let you cream all over him before he went to attend to his silly little friends. but he flips the script, pulling out of you just as you teeter over the edge to ruin your orgasm.

“no, no, please!” you sniffle, teary eyed with dissatisfaction sitting in your lower belly — the need to cum still there but the feeling of emptiness within your dripping walls taking over. “satoru…” you whine.

when you look behind you, he’s too busy finishing himself off — his black shirt between his teeth, sweats hanging low on his waist while gojo palms his hard and heavy cock as he pleases.

it’s coated in your arousal, shining under the artificial lighting in the kitchen and you watch with a pout as gojo jacks himself off to the view of your ruined cunt. he thumbs the seedy slit at the centre of his bright red tip, hissing through the sensitivity. he’s a picture perfect vision, appearing as an angel before your very eyes. a mop of halo white hair flop backwards with satoru’s head, rich sapphire eyes locked behind fluttering lashes that glisten with pearls of pleasure filled tears.

you know not to be mistaken, you know that satoru is more like an incubus than the heavenly being he presents as. the parts of your brain with better judgement see him as the sinner who made you fall from grace, committing such a heinous act. the desperate side of you with a brain full of lust and smoke screens sees your step-brother as a god who controls all of your desires.

you think you prefer that side of you more.

meanwhile, a drop of sweat runs a track down the length of satoru’s neck, catching on the curve of his Adam’s apple as he swallows down his euphoric laments. you find yourself jealous that his own fingers are wrapped around his sloppy dick instead of drawing shapes against your aching clit. you envy how good it must feel for satoru when he finally cums. ropes of thick white sling around his knuckles, much paler in contrast to his pearlescent skin tone.

a deep, gravelly moan erupts from his hot mouth like lava, accompanied by curses and the stuttered syllables you recognise to be your name while he finishes himself off. gojo jerks his sensitive cock over your ass to paint you with the last spurts of his release. it’s a claim on you as your step-brother, a way in which he can show you that he always gets his way no matter what.

whilst still recovering, your step-brother drags a slender finger through the puddle of cum he’s left on you, and drags it down to your stretched little hole before pushing it against your overstimulated clit. “hmm, so pretty.” gojo grins, slow and sly, when you twitch and attempt to jolt away from him. then unexpectedly, he lands a hard smack against your bum — revelling in your sweet cry of pleasure, impatience and pain. “go put somethin’ on, will ya, sis? my friends are still waiting outside.”

“i…i hate you.” you whimper shakily, brain frazzled from the situation.

satoru might be a spoiled brat, but he’s not mean enough to leave you here a shaky, dripping mess so he helps you to your feet — tenderly fixing the hem of your shirt and panties back into place (failing to wipe his cum off of you beforehand). you’re still pouting from your ruined orgasm once he’s done, and he nudges the underside of your chin with a singular knuckle.

“don’t worry big sis, i’ll come take care of you later. maybe i’ll even let geto watch since you love prancing around half naked for him too.” he teases, squishing your cheeks as you try to swat at him. “and you don’t hate me, you love me and this cock. clearly.” gojo sings and sends a cheeky wink in your before prancing away to open the door for his friends.

he pulls his pants up as he goes, not minding the wet patch you’ve left on him.

whereas, you scurry up to your room before they can greet you and gojo tells them that you’re feeling unwell.

that day, you learn two valuable lessons:

one — never mess with a spoiled brat, it’ll never end well for you and gojo will always get what he wants no matter who pays the bills.

two — geto really does like to jerk off to you, even more so when he watches his best friend punishes his older step-sister with enough orgasms to make her forget why she was in trouble with satoru in the first place.

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demonictacobeard · 2 months

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Adam, coming out of his room for the first time:……Alright what the fuck do you guys even do here? Therapy, or some shit

Lucifer who had been waiting for him by the door: Charlie has activities usually, and is more then willing to talk to residents about their feelings and how they ended up in hell so that’s like therapy. I’m surprised you know about that, has heaven finally implemented it?

Adam, grumbling: No Heaven doesn’t fucking have therapy, but for the last ten years the newer winners have been asking why and the older angels had to find out what the fuck it is

Lucifer, humming: I do have to wonder how all the therapists up there don’t fall from utter frustration

Charlie, watching them come down the stairs excitedly: Hi Dad! Hi Adam! I’m so excited you came down. How are you feeling today, do you think you might be up for an activity? Or ooh, I never got to show you around the whole hotel just to your room. Whatever you feel like! Adam, stepping back: I knew she was excited during the meeting but Is she always this fucking cheery? It’s like Emily has a long lost twin from Hell

Angel Dust, from the bar: It’s the new resident joy, you’ll get used to it lambchop!

Husk, snorting: You act like you don’t adore that girl

Angel, pointing at him with three pointer fingers: You, shut up

Lucifer, beaming with pride: She’s very passionate about her work, always has been

Adam, groaning as Charlie looks at him with glimmering eyes: Dear fucking god, shit alright, fine I’ll take the tour

Vaggie, walking up to them with her spear: Good, because todays activity is Alastor’s idea and I don’t trust him not to ‘accidentally’ scar you emotionally instead

Charlie, gasping: Vaggie! Come on, Alastor wouldn’t do that

Lucifer and Vaggie, deadpan: Yes he would

Adam, crossing his arms: I don’t know the fucker, I just beat his ass, but yes the shit he would. Do you see that smile he has going on all the time? I haven’t seen one so fake since Michael’s

Lucifer, gaging: Hech Mike

Adam, nodding: Fucking Mike

Vaggie, vaguely remembering the angel: Do you mean….the Mike who was your bosses boss, the one who came around and inspected the exterminator’s once every ten years. That Mike?

Adam: That’s the bitch, Vag

Vaggie, her cheek twitching in anger: The ARCHANGEL MICHAEL?

Adam: Adding his title doesn’t unmake him a bitch

Lucifer, laughing: Nothing can

Charlie, smacking her head: Awful uncle Mike! Dad told me about him, don’t worry Adam Alastor is nothing like him. The smile is just….a tool for him? It’s harmless

Adam, rolling his eyes: The bartender just looked at you like you lied to gods face and then fucking spat on it, but whatever. I’ll do the activities and shit, later, but only ones you’re in charge of- why does your face look like that?

Charlie singing to Vaggie, after grabbing a confused Adam’s elbow and happily dragging him on the tour: He trusts meeeee!

Adam, flushing: ONLY MORE THEN THAT FUCKING DEER!

Lucifer, following them: Thats still a little, you know

Angel, laughing at Alastor when he walked in ten minutes later: Hey Alastor, guess what sheep boy trusts the devil and the devil’s daughter more then you. How’s that make you feel?

Alastor, his smile becoming more genuine: Positively ‘devastated’

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel alastor #guitarduck #adamsapple #cw cursing #sinner adam #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #Adam: Is she fucking glowing what the hell #You know how at a party you follow the one person you know?#Adam is doing that to Lucifer #He will die again before admitting it though #Hc they both hate Michael

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definitelysel · 5 months

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Running fingers through their hair 🤍

ft. wriothesley, alhaitham and neuvillette.

synopsis : you convince them into playing with their hair and you end up taking undue advantage of it.

warnings : implied fem!reader, pet names, mention of murder and suicide (neuvillette – no there is no angst here.).

a/n : fluff but seriously hair is so floof in genshin and i love me some domesticated content.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

"No." He crossed his arms in disapproval at your request.

"Haitham! Come on!" You begged your husband to let you run your fingers through his hair in hopes to help him unwind and relax but he was adamant not letting you.

"I am sorry [Name], but I have a meeting due in an hour with the Dendro Archon about some administrative changes and as much as I would love to catch a break, I can't as of now." He exasperated, voice laced with annoyance.

Ever since becoming the Acting Grand Sage, Alhaitham had gotten just a tad bit more whinier. You weren't complaining since Alhaitham had the emotional quotient of a rock.

"Oh come on! It's still an hour away. C'mere." You patted your lap. He sighed but agreed. You found yourself combing your nifty fingers through his grey locks. They felt soft to touch. Who are you kidding, he was a well groomed gentleman despite his emotionally constipated personality.

His eyes were focused on a book he was reading, his eyes scanning the pages but his expression was relaxed. He won't admit it but he liked it. This was a simple yet intimate gesture.

You on the other hand, stared outside of the window, fingers still running through his hair. The scenery of Sumeru city stretched out far and wide for your eyes to see. The sky was beaming with light, birds were chit chatting on the tree branches and–

Snore.

Your focus gets redirected back at Alhaitham who now had the book resting on his face, his chest rising rhythmically as you heard him breathing softly.

You chuckled at the sight. He really did fall asleep. He looked so carefree when a moment ago he was complaining about meetings and work. How amusing. An idea bubbled up in your head.

When Alhaitham woke up, he realised that he had fallen asleep and hurried out of the room to meet up with Nahida in the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

"Good evening Acting Grand Sage, I was just waiting on you- pfft!" Nahida's cheeks puffed up and the little Archon started giggling.

"I am sorry for being late- wait, why are you laughing?" He tilted his expression in confusion. Could his late timing be a matter of amusement for his Archon?

"Who made two tiny ponytails in your hair using sparkly pink pyro slime hairties!" Nahida chuckled more, unable to hold her laughter.

"..." he reached up to feel the two tiny fountains of hair made by tying them up. Who could've done such a— you.

Needles to say, Alhaitham image of a big mighty serious guy in front of Nahida had now been ruined.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

"Ma Chérie, what do you think of this case?" Neuvillette leaned back into his chair, papers spread out on his table. You picked up one of the documents and examined them.

What made you and Neuvillette a match made in heaven was that you were one of Fontaine's best lawyers and Neuvillette was the Ludex. You both would brainstorm cases together though Neuvillette always tended to quote how he is unbiased as it is his duty as the Chief Justice to not let personal feelings get in the way.

Still, you catch him staring at you during court proceedings, expression twisting and turning based on the situation out of his instinctive concern for you.

"Well, I think this is a classic murder which is being displayed to the common eye like a suicide." You sighed and put the paper back on the table, stretching your back from fatigue.

"I must say, that's quite a possibility. I'd suggest you investigate futher and seek the truth." He pondered, his gloved hand resting on his chin.

"Neuvi, can we take a break? I am tired." You slumped down in the chair across him, exhausting from the repetitive task at hand.

"Indeed. Repetition tends to tire out the mortal brain. Let's continue this after lunch." He nodded and started to sort the papers according to there designated folders.

"Can I play with your hair till you get the sorting papers thing done?" You asked him and he seemed amused at the idea. Neuvillette was never reluctant from trying out new things and gave into your small pleasures if they made you happy. "Sure."

You ran your fingers through his white locks. Honestly his hair were so beautiful, it would put women's hair to shame. Neuvillette took good care of them. You started using this opportunity to experiment different hairstyles on him.

Neuvillette glanced up, only to see his hair in a braid from his reflection in the mirror with a black ribbon in them. He stared at the braid for a good minute, "Hmm simple, practical and elegant. It's quite nice." He mused.

You were proud of yourself before Neuvillette asked if he could try hairstyles on you.

An afternoon spent with chuckles, smiles, whacky and pretty hairstyles.

WRIOTHESLEY 🧊

You watched as Wriothesley worked like a machine.

Step 1 : Grab the paperwork

Step 2 : Read and Sign it

Step 3 : Put in the "done" pile

The sounds of paper swiping and pen scribbling filled the room. You tried to entertain yourself with some novel but you could hear wriothesley grunted and groaning in annoyance.

"Y'know, the best thing is to simply not to do the work if you don't feel like it, wrio." You suggested, flipping to the next page in the novel.

"You're right. I'll settle for a nap, drink tea after I get up and then continue doing this..." he grumbled before getting up and making his way to his bed upstairs. You afte a few minutes got up and followed him.

You both laid beside eachother, under the blankets, soaking in eachother's warmth. "You joinin' me on a nap, sweetheart?" A smile crawled onto his face as he looked at you with his icy hues.

"No, I am simply here to take care of you, silly." You kissed his nose as he took your palm firmly in his and kissed the back of it, endearingly. You peppered his face with feather kisses, tousling his soft black locks earning a relaxed hum of content from him.

Wriothesley was a man of limited needs and such small moments with you were his saving grace from the buttload of prison paper work. His arm snaked around your waist as he kissed the top of your forehead before his hand rested on your cheeks, his eyes fluttering shut.

He yawned and made himself comfortable before drifting off into his well deserved nap.

But..

"Oh my god, you are associated with Sigewinne in this??" He baffled at the sight of his face covered in stickers. Melusines loved to play pranks but his own lover? Now that was some serious betrayal.

"First my back and now my face?" He stared at you, jaw dropped, wanting an explanation. You simply stifled a laugh before hearing a click.

"Sigewinne, did you just take a picture of me?? HEY! Don't run away!? [Name]! Sigewinne! You guys better delete that picture!" He chased after you two as you ran with Sigewinne in your arms. It was a moment of solace and perhaps another moment added in your archive of memories.

a/n : to say i am obsessed with domesticated genres and tropes is an understatement.

don't steal, copy, plagarize.

©definitelysel

not proof read.

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alvojake · 2 months

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Tight Spaces | L.HS

「paring」 : badboy!heeseung x fem!reader 「word count」 : 5.6k

「synopsis」 : who would have thought a little game of truth or dare your sister forced you to play would end in such a way?

「genre」 : smut, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, university au(ish)

「warning」 : mentions of cheating, toxic ex, mentions of alcohol, truth or dare, seven minutes in heaven, making out, unprotected sex (big no-no), dom!heeseung x sub!reader, dirty talk, conservative neighbor?, praise, pet names (pretty, baby, princess, baby girl...), teasing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), creampie, manhandling, multiple orgasms, aftercare, heeseung is sickeningly sweet at the end, lmk if I missed anything!

It seemed like the world was out for blood, specifically yours. It hadn’t exactly been a good week for you, first you woke up late for an important test, then someone spilled their nasty kale smoothie all over you, staining your favorite hoodie that monstrous green, and you were stuck working overtime, without the pay, because no one else wanted to work. However, the sweet cherry on top was that you just so happened to walk in on your boyfriend in bed with another woman.

It wasn’t like he was the best guy to ever exist and your friends told you multiple times to just leave him. He was also toxic as hell and could give less than two shits about you or anything related to you, but that didn’t keep you from running out with tears streaming down your face.

Now that Friday has finally rolled around you wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and forget the world around you. Though as fate would have it, your sister barged into your room without knocking and flipping the light switch on momentarily blinding you.

“Go away, Sana!” You whined, grabbing your pillow to cover your face surrounding yourself in darkness once more.

Sana just rolled her eyes before walking over and snatching the pillow right out of your hands, “Get your ass up y/n, I’m not letting you wallow in your self-pity while there's a rager going on in town.”

You let out a huff as you lay flat on your back, staring at the dark-haired girl, “I don’t wanna go.” Tears involuntarily filled your eyes and you quickly bit the inside of your cheek to keep them at bay.

Sana stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, a glare adorning her features, “is this about Sungho?”

You didn’t say anything, but then again you didn’t have to because your face says it all. Sana just sighed before walking over to your closet and pulling the doors.

“Sis you have got to get over his sorry ass,” She rolled her eyes as she shuffled through your clothes all while you sat up in bed, watching her.

“It’s not even that he’s bothering me-” The look Sana gave you told you she believed otherwise, “Alright maybe a little bit, I mean he's going around telling everyone I’m a bore.” You scoffed, running your fingers through your hair. “He’s the real bore here, only caring about himself… asshole.”

As you went on a small tangent Sana put together an outfit, something that would catch someone’s attention but you would still be comfortable in. She was determined to get you laid or something so you would get out of your little rut with Sungho. When she was done she walked out of the closet and laid the clothing on your bed.

“What is that?” You asked with wide eyes, staring down at the outfit. Admittedly it was cute, but you were sure you’d free your ass off in the cool autumn weather.

“The outfit you’re wearing, now go take a shower, you stink.” With that, Sana walked out of the room leaving you sitting there to pick your jaw up.

And with that you stood in the living room of a very unfamiliar house, red solo cup in your hand. The bitter liquid was becoming more and more tolerable the more you watched your ex quite literally sucking the face off of a new woman.

“Are you seriously just going to stand here and watch that disgusting rat or are you going to try and enjoy yourself?” The sound of your sister’s voice broke your focus on Sungho.

You look over at her as you take another sip of whatever concoction was in your cup, “what do you expect me to do? Dance with some rando?”

Sana burst out laughing, catching the attention of some of those around you two, Sungho included. He detached himself from the chick he was with before making his way over to you with a smug smirk on his face.

“Well, you’re the last person I’d expect to be here.” At the sound of his voice, you rolled your eyes before grabbing Sana’s arm and walking off, ignoring his calls for you to come back, “Good luck finding anyone who wants to be with your boring ass, bitch.”

His words hit a deep nerve and it took all of your self-will to not turn around and deck him right in the face. Noticing this Sana tugged you towards a group of people you barely recognized. Looking around you saw Sana’s two best friends and their boyfriends, but you had no idea who the rest of them were. You felt really out of place among them, your sister was popular while you, well for the lack of better words, were a nobody.

“Let’s play some games!” One of Sana’s friends, Hanna suggested before pulling her boyfriend to the empty couch.

You, however, just stood there awkwardly unsure of what to do. You then felt something bump into your shoulder causing you to look over. There stood the university's residential ‘bad boy’ Lee Heeseung.

“Pretty sure that includes you, come on.” He smirked, causing your heart to speed up, your face flushing red. Heeseung motioned to the group before walking over to them while you watched him. The black ripped jeans he was wearing hugged his legs perfectly and his black band t-shirt was nothing short of ‘him’.

“Y/n get over here!” Sana called out, snapping you out of your trance. You meekly walked over, taking the empty seat in between your sister and another girl. Looking up you locked eyes with Heeseung once more and you thanked the dim lighting otherwise he’d see you turning into a tomato.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” One of the guys suggested as his buddy finished chugging his beer and holding out the bottle. Everyone around you cheered and agreed while you could have sworn you had been cursed.

Now you sat in a circle playing the classic game of truth or dare, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, but you? This was your worst fucking nightmare imaginable. Playing a game where you either had to answer some of the deepest, darkest, dirtiest, and freakiest questions to exist or do some provocative, cringe dares they could think of. This kind of game was not on your forbes to-do list, but you couldn’t just back out, not without becoming the laughingstock of the entire university.

You sat there, hands tucked under your bare thighs as you watched the guy next to your sister spin the bottle. Heat travels up your neck as the bottle stops spinning, landing right on… you.

“Y/n finally! Truth or dare?”

‘Fuck.’ You didn’t like the way he phrased that sentence nor did you like the way everyone's eyes fell on you. However, you weren’t going to give them a reason to tease you so you put on your best poker face before taking a drink.

“Dare.”

“Oh, she’s bold!” The guy smirked which left you feeling uneasy, the feeling worsened when he started looking around the circle.

‘Please don’t make me grind on someone or some shit.’ You silently prayed that you wouldn’t have to embarrass yourself in front of these people, who you didn’t even know.

“Seven minutes in heaven with… Heeseung.” You could have sworn you felt your heart stop. Your eyes widened for a millisecond before you were able to cover it, then looked up meeting the eyes of the chosen male.

At first, you didn’t move not really wanting to be in a small confined space with another male, not right now at least. Sana just smirked as she bumped into your shoulder letting you know that the time wouldn’t start until you and Heeseung were in the closet. Rolling your eyes you handed her your drink before standing and making your way to the hall closet.

There were times you wanted to strangle your sister, more than you can count on your fingers, but right now? This very instance would probably take the cake. You stood damn near chest-to-chest with Heeseung in a tiny closet, neither of you saying a word, but you could feel his breath fanning your face. The smell of his cologne filled your senses making you lightheaded as you tried to will your heart to calm down.

Heeseung’s eyes never left your face, watching and studying your expressions. He leaned back a bit more to try and give you more space so you were comfortable which only caught you off guard.

“We don't have to do anything, you know? Just make some shit up when they ask.” His voice was low causing heat to pool in your stomach as you looked up at him. Your eyes were slightly wide, but he could see the curiosity in them.

You hadn’t expected that from him, not with the rumors you heard around campus. The girls that talked about him always talked about how he wasn’t one for relationships and that he could give two shits about their feelings, so to say you were pleasantly surprised would be an understatement.

Heeseung pulled his hand from his pocket before snaking around your waist, pulling you flush against him, “Unless you want to pretty…”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up at him, searching his eyes. Then Sungho’s words rang in the back of your mind, instantly ticking you off. You were going to prove that you weren’t this bore that he made you out to be and if sleeping with Heeseung would prove that then so be it. So without another thought you grabbed the chain that was sitting around his neck pulling him down, connecting your lips to his.

His lips were soft against yours, sweet like cherries with a hint of alcohol, addicting almost. Your brain felt fuzzy as his lips melted into yours, and his tongue swiped at your bottom lip prompting you to part your lips. It didn’t take long for him to pull you closer, tongue slipping into your mouth.

Heeseung watched in amusement as you chased after him as he pulled away. Your swollen lips and glossy eyes almost made him want to say screw it and just fuck you in this closet, but he’d rather not get interrupted.

He leaned down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “We won’t have enough time in here, but we can go back to mine, how does that sound?”

“Please…” You let out a breathy sigh as his lips connected to the soft skin of your neck, leaving wet and sloppy kisses in his trail. Biting your lip to conceal any noise from any listening ears as he bit down and sucked on your skin.

After the seven minutes were up, the closet door flew open only to your classmates' dismay you and Heeseung were standing opposite each other. They ushered you to tell them what had happened to which you just shrugged your shoulders.

“Nothing much,”

However, your sister saw the darkening spots on your neck as she handed your drink back to you when you sat down. With a knowing smile on her lips, she leaned closer to you, “he’s taking you to his, isn’t he?”

You coughed slightly, tongue jutting out to wet your lips as you just nodded your head, giving her the answer she was looking for. Heeseung watched you talk to your sister from the other side of the room with a smug smirk on his lips, his friends pestering him for more information.

As the game continued you would catch Heeseung watching you or he’d catch your lingering gaze, you would hold eye contact before it became too much and you looked away, blushing. Sana was watching in amusement from beside you until she caught sight of Sungho walking over.

“Mind if I join y’all?” His voice made your face drop, souring your mood instantly.

“Sungho man, of course!” One of the other guys exclaimed with a wide smile and you watched reluctantly as he walked over taking the now empty space next to you. He sat down, hand brushing against your thigh.

Heeseung watched with a raised eyebrow as you tried to scoot closer to Sana, but Sungho just followed. He could tell you were uncomfortable, hell anyone with a pair of eyes could see it.

Sensing his gaze you looked up, sending him a meek smile, trying to ignore Sungho’s wandering hands. Sana sent a glare in Sungho’s direction before spinning the bottle, watching it as it spun and stopped on you, again. However, this time you were happy because you’d do just about anything to get you away from the creep next to you.

“Y/n, truth or dare.” Sana asked as she turned towards you, already knowing what you were going to pick and as soon as the word ‘dare’ left your lips she nodded. “Hmm…” She faked thinking for a dare before her eyes landed on Heeseung, “sit on Heeseung's lap for the rest of the game.”

Heat traveled up your neck, painting your face red, but you didn’t complain as you stood. However, before you could get too far Sungho grabbed your wrist.

“Now Sana, why would you do that knowing she has a boyfriend?” He raised an eyebrow as you glared at him, daring you to say something.

Had this been a few weeks ago you would have kept your mouth shut, but now? Never again.

“We broke up Sungho, would you please get that through your head?” You hissed, ripping your arm out of his grasp before walking over to Heeseung.

The dark-haired male smiled smugly at Sungho as you took a seat on his lap, arms wrapping around his neck. As you made yourself comfortable Heeseung wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

Sungho’s eyes never left you and Heeseung throughout the entire game, annoying you even more and Heeseung noticed. His hand that was resting on your lower back moved to grab your hip, his lips brushing against your jaw, eyes locked with Sungho’s.

“Wanna get out of here?” His voice was low enough for just you to hear, but his warm breath against your skin made you shiver. You nodded your head and Heeseung placed a soft kiss on your jaw before letting you stand. Once you both were standing he took your cup, sitting it on the table before grabbing your hand. “We’re outta here.”

That was all he said before walking away, sending Sungho a wink as he pulled you behind him.

Heeseung really did take you back to his place, after managing to escape prying ears and eyes.

You laughed softly as Heeseung ushered you into his apartment, away from his nosey neighbor who just happened to walk out as you guys made it to his door. Giggles spilled from your lips as you listened to him try to play the whole thing off from the small crack in the door.

“Don’t worry Ms. Kim, she's just my lab partner, we have a project due soon, no funny business I swear,” Heeseung reassured the older woman, crossing his fingers over his heart, a nervous laugh leaving his lips as she glared at him.

“Mhm.” She hummed before turning and walking towards the elevator.

Once she was far enough away Heeseung pushed the door open, moving you further inside. When the door was fully shut, he let out a sigh before looking up and meeting your eyes. As soon as your gazes met you both burst out into giggles.

“What was all of that about?” You managed to ask through your laughter and Heeseung just shook his head.

“She’s just some nosey conservative hag, don’t worry about her.” He rolled his eyes as he made his way toward you, “Now where were we?” He grabbed your waist pulling your body flush against his, your arms snaking around his neck.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. Heeseung took your face in his free hand, using his thumb to pull your lip from your teeth before leaning down, and connecting his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut, relishing in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. Heeseung groaned against your lips when you tugged on his hair at the nape of his neck, “fuck, are you sure you want to do this? We can just chill and watch a movie.”

Your eyes search his as you nod your head and he leans down, lips ghosting over yours, “use your words, princess,”

You went weak in the knees, the fact that he wanted verbal confirmation had you fall head over heels. Then, again he probably didn’t want any sexual assault charges so you tried not to think too much about it. You couldn’t fall for someone again, especially not someone like him, but the way his thumb was rubbing soft circles on your side was making it very hard not to.

Letting out a shaky sigh, you nodded again, “I want this, please Heeseung.”

That’s all it took for him to grab the back of your thighs hoisting you up onto his waist, a small yelp leaving your lip but was quickly silenced by his. He walks over to the couch before sitting down with you in his lap, lips still on yours. The kiss was hot and messy, teeth clashing as his hands traveled the length of your body.

His hands were all over you, squeezing your thighs. Ass. Hips. Everywhere. Hands warm against your bare skin as he lifted your shirt. Once your shirt was off Heeseung threw it off to the side somewhere before making quick work of your bra, unclipping it like he’s done it a million times. His gaze on you was so intense that it made you squirm, face turning a vibrant shade of red.

His hands fell back to your hips halting your movements, “Holy fuck, you’re so pretty.” He groaned, and you suddenly felt shy under his gaze. So you turned your head, averting his eyes trying to will your heart to calm down.

Heeseung pulled your hips down and you could feel his bulge against your clothed core causing a small whine to leave your mouth. The moment that you felt his warm mouth on your boob you swear you could have melted in his lap. A whimper fell from your covered lips as his teeth scraped against your hardened bud.

You had never experienced this before, Sungho never, never, focused on your pleasure, only his own. So this new feeling left you feeling confused and extremely overwhelmed. The fact that Heeseung was taking his time and focusing solely on your pleasure, it was making your head spin.

Heeseung pulled away from your chest with a pop, looking up to take in your flustered face, eyes avoiding his. He kissed his way up the valley of your breast, chest, and neck before stopping by your ear, “Why are you being so shy now?” His voice was husky and low, sending a chill down your spine.

You couldn’t meet Heeseung’s eyes, you were too embarrassed because you weren’t even sure if you were supposed to be feeling like this. Sungho had deprived you of any of this, of the pleasure, of the care and you felt like you could cry. Had he really only cared about himself the whole time you guys were together?

You were snapped out of your daze when Heeseung leaned back against the couch, his grip on your hips loosening, “we don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.” His words made your stomach flutter, he cared about your feelings even if he was rock-hard underneath you. Tears brimmed in your eyes as your hands fell to your lap.

“No I want to do this, it’s just…” The words died on your tongue, what were you supposed to tell him? That your ex never did any of this so you were confused? No, he’d probably just laugh in your face.

“Just what princess?” Heeseung’s voice was soft, his thumb rubbing small circles on your waist. You licked your lips trying to gather your thoughts, why did you have to be so fucking awkward? Why couldn’t you just let him continue doing what he was doing? Thoughts cloud your mind and Heeseung could tell so he brought his hand to your face, grabbing your chin softly making you look at him. However, you were quick to avert your gaze and he didn’t take too kindly to that, “Look at me pretty.”

Your teary eyes flicker up to his, god you wish that the universe would just suck you into a black hole right about now. Heeseung’s gaze was filled with concern and that was enough for the first tear to break free, falling down your cheek. You, however, were quick to wipe it away before closing your eyes trying to mentally prepare yourself for the embarrassment that was to come.

Heeseung sat there, waiting till you were ready to talk, his eyes never leaving your face. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable, especially when he finally had you. So he waited.

Letting out a shaky breath you opened your eyes, meeting his, “It’s just that my ex, he never really did any of…” you gestured to yours and Heeseung’s body, “this.” Your face started to heat up as you tried your best to keep his eye contact.

Heeseung instantly felt an annoyance bubble up in his chest, not because of you, but because of the douchebag you called your ex. In a blink of an eye, he had you lying on your back, his body slotting over yours. Your eyes were wide in surprise as your hands lay next to your head.

“So let me get this straight, not only was he a cheating asshole, but also never pleased you right.” His words made your face flush red, but you nodded nonetheless, “fucking useless scumbag.” He growled under his breath as he latched his lips to your neck once more.

A whimper left your lips as he bit down on the junction of your neck, “H-Hee-”

“Don’t worry baby I got you. I’m gonna show you how you should have been treated in the first place.” He said with a shit-eating grin, his tongue lapping over the spot he just bit, “Will you let me?” His hands traced the length of your body before finding purchase on your hips. He pulled back to look at you in your eyes and you nodded, “Words pretty,”

You felt lightheaded under his intense gaze, “Y-yes.”

Without another word he hooked his fingers on the hem of your shorts, pulling them down as well as your panties. Heeseung looked down at you with such a hunger in his eyes that it left you breathless, much like when he ran a finger through your slick folds, groaning at how wet you were.

A small moan left your lips, your hips bucking against his touch. He slowly inserted his finger into your tight hole, slowly rubbing his fingertips against your gummy walls. Your eyes never left his as he lowered himself onto you, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your thigh. He pressed featherlight kisses to your skin, letting his lips trail down your thigh until his warm breath met your glistening core.

Your head fell back against the couch cushion as he dived into your pussy, a shiver running through your body. A moan tore through your lips as his finger sped up inside you, rubbing one particular spot that left you seeing stars. His tongue and fingers work in unison to bring you closer to the edge. He continued his actions until you practically shoved your hips in his face trying to gain more friction. A loud whine fell from your lips as his free hand traveled up to your stomach pushing down, keeping you in place. It didn’t take long before you were coming undone underneath him, sparks flashing across your vision, your whole body twitching with each of Heeseung’s movements.

Heeseung slowly pulled his soaping fingers from your core, a devilish smirk on his lips as he watched the dim moonlight reflect off of your juices. Your head tilted up, eyes meeting his just as he stuck his finger in his mouth, licking all of your essence off of his digits. A groan vibrated in his throat at the taste, eyes rolling slightly leaving you dripping on his couch.

“You taste so fucking sweet baby,” His voice was raspy as he pulled his fingers from his mouth, crawling back over your body. A moan fell from your lips as he touched you, only for it to be swallowed by Heeseung’s. Your brain nearly short-circuited when you tasted yourself on his lips, his tongue pushing more into your mouth. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling roughly making his head tilt back. You took the chance to latch your lips to his honey skin, leaving your fair share of wet, open-mouth kisses along his jugular. He groaned above you, hands tightening on your hips.

In one quick motion, he had you both in the same position you had started in, you straddling his lap. You didn’t let the sudden change alter your movements, too blinded by pleasure to care how he takes you, as long as he does. His grip on your hips tightened even more as you rolled your hips against his bulge, relishing in the feeling of his jeans against your bare cunt.

“Fuck princess, are you that desperate for my cock.” His head fell back as you latched your lips back to his neck, leaving a trail of marks in your wake. Your lips trailed down his neck until you were met with the collar of his shirt.

Leaning back you grabbed the edge of the fabric, pulling on it, “Off now, please.” The pleading in your tone made Heeseung’s dick twitch, a smirk pulling on his lips.

“Don’t let me stop you baby girl, take it off.” He pulled his hands from your hips and you didn’t waste another second pulling his shirt over his head letting it join the ever-growing pile of fabric on the ground. You sat back in his lap taking in the sight in front of you, your finger running down his chest to his toned stomach before landing on his hard cock. A groan fell from his lips as you palmed him through the fabric.

Finally fed up with your teasing touch he grabbed your wrist pulling your body flush against his, “Stop fucking teasing.”

“Then fuck me already.” The sas in your tone flipped something in Heeseung, he wanted to be nice, to make sure you’d be left wanting more, to make you feel good. However, that plan flew out the window as he stood to his feet, taking you with him.

His grip was so tight on your thighs that you were sure that there would be bruises in the morning. The sound of his bedroom door crashing against the wall made you jump, but before you could even begin to question it he threw you on the bed. You leaned back, looking at him with a cocky smile that Heeseung so desperately wanted to wipe away, so he was going to do just that.

“On your hands and knees.” His voice was rough as he undid the button on his jeans. You didn’t give it a second thought before following his instructions, arching your back and giving Heeseung the perfect view of your glistening cunt. You weren’t sure where all of this was coming from, maybe it was just lust but you wiggled your hips enticing him, which worked.

Heeseung grabbed your hips before letting his hands travel across your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You whined into his pillows as you felt his cock against you, rubbing against your folds and clit. You pushed your hips into him, feeling the tip of his cock graze your entrance.

“You’re so needy princess…” He chuckled as he grabbed your hips, stilling your movements, “Let me make you feel good.” You opened your mouth to say something, but the thought quickly left your brain when you felt him push into you. A high-pitched moan fell from your lips as he thrusts deep inside you in one go, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you. He gave you just enough time to adjust before he pulled back until just his tip was left, then thrusts back in, eliciting a scream from you. His pace was nothing short of rough and fast, his thrusts deep. His tip kissing your cervix with each thrust leaving you seeing stars.

“Hee- fuck, fuck.” You chanted, any coherent sentences disappearing as tears broke from your eyes. Heeseung watched with a smug smirk as you came undone under him, your knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping the sheets.

He leaned down, kissing the back of your shoulders, one hand grabbing yours as the other stayed on your hip. “You’re doing so good for me baby, so tight.” He groaned in your ear as you clenched around him.

A cry broke through your lips when the head of his cock hit that one particular spot inside your drenched cunt. He took note of your reaction before positioning his hip to repeatedly hit the same spot, leaving you a screaming mess beneath him.

“HEESEUNG!” You screamed his name as his hand trailed down, rubbing harsh, tight circles on your clit. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m- fuck, I’m close Hee…” You whined out, your vision turning white for a moment as your whole body convulsed.

“I know princess. Let go for me. Cum for me.” His voice was soft in your ear and your orgasm hit not even two seconds later, mouth hanging open with silent screams. If it weren’t for Heeseung’s grip on your body you would have fallen flat on the bed.

He cursed under his breath as he stood straight, grabbing your hips with both hands. His hips pounded into yours at an animalistic pace knocking all of the air out of your lungs. Sensitivity surged through your body as Heeseung chased his own high, leaving you a whining mess as you reached back, grabbing his wrist, nails digging into his skin. After a few more harsh thrusts he painted your velvet walls white, rolling his hips against yours and riding out his high until he came to a stop. You closed your eyes trying to steady your racing heart, Heeseung rubbing soft circles on your hips.

“Shit…” Heeseung growled slowly as he pulled out of you slowly. He watched as his cum mixed with yours spilled from your pussy, eyes following it trail down your thigh. Your meek voice calling out to him snapped him out of his trance, looking up to meet your fucked out eyes. Your whole body felt sore and you didn’t want to get up, but you knew you needed to get cleaned up. So you moved to sit up, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed.

However, before you could get too far Heeseung stopped you, “What are you doing?”

All of your movements stopped, worried that you upset him, hands in your lap, “I was gonna go clean up…”

“That son of a bitch…” He growled under his breath, combing his fingers through his hair. “Stay there.” He looked at you pointedly before grabbing his boxers and pulling them up his legs before walking off into another room. Confused, you just sat there, fingers fiddling in your lap, thoughts started to swirl in your head.

‘Was he gonna come back and make you go home? Or was he upset that you hadn’t moved quick enough?’

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Heeseung’s hand cupped your face, making you look up, meeting his worry-filled eyes. He swiped his thumb under your eye, clearing the tears that you hadn’t even noticed were falling from your eyes.

“I got you, baby girl, just lay back for me.” His voice was soft and his hands gentle as he laid you on your back. Your face flushed red as he parted your thighs, his jaw clenched at the sight of the mess between your legs. He willed himself to not get hard as he cleaned the mixture of yours and his cum off of your body before pulling one of his shirts over your head.

He threw the washcloth in the hamper before climbing into the bed, pulling your body close to his. You couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed as his body warmed yours, his heart beating directly under your ear, but at the same time, you loved it. You love how he made you feel so comfortable, so warm, so seen, so loved.

Heeseung’s lips on your forehead pulled you from your thoughts, making you look up at him. It was like one look in your eyes and he knew exactly how you were feeling. He shuffled his body a little bit until he was face-to-face with you, caressing your cheek softly.

“Just forget about him, I’ve got you now.” His voice was sweet like honey as he pressed his lips against yours in a silent promise and so you did. Not a single thought of Sungho crossed your mind as you drifted off to sleep in Heeseung’s arms.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @heesitation @jaeyunology @luvyong2z

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usedtobecooler · 1 year

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thinking about being eddie and steve's little cock hungry fucktoy <;3

content warnings: sexual content (18+ minors dni), mmf threesome, double penetration, vaginal sex, anal sex, nipple play, dacryphilia, dirty talk, degradation.

eddie's underneath you, thick cock rocking into your tight hole until you're gasping and writhing around on top of him. he has you pinned, large hands grabbing at squishy handfuls of your inner thighs to keep you spread wide for steve as he slides two fingers into your dripping cunt.

your hands grapple for purchase behind your head, settling in eddie's unruly curls and tugging hard — he punches his hips upwards, rocking your limp body until your head lolls back onto his shoulder, pushing his cock further into your ass and splitting you apart from the inside out. you cry out, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

it feels so good that all coherency has evaporated, brain turning to a puddle of mush — steve grins at you, crooks his fingers upwards until you're rutting into his hand, rocking yourself down on them both in tandem. eddie grunts, slapping his hand down on your thigh, the loud crack of skin connecting with skin echoing in the electricity-filled room.

"think we can get another one out of her, harrington?" eddie's gravelly, thick voice bounces in your ears, his chest vibrating and sending the shockwaves through your back, leaving you shivering and begging silently, arching into him and baring your throat.

you're dumb. reduced to nothing more than a cock hungry whore, pliant under large, roaming hands. aching to be filled and used however they want you.

you'd lost count of how many times they'd made you cum already. in the back of your mind you think it's surpassed six, at least. your clit swollen and tender from fingers and tongues and teeth.

steve knew that, knew your cunt needed filled now, clit thrumming and all feeling lost in it a few orgasms ago. the rough pads of his fingertips brush over that fucking spot, pressing down on the spongey softness of it until you're keening.

he cackles. tan, mole flecked skin gleaming with sweat in the luminescence of the sun shining through the crack in the curtains — god, when did daylight break? how long had you been like this? your mind races, eyes crossing as eddie slowly, languidly fucks your ass, huffing small groans into your ear, smearing wet hot kisses on the junction where your neck meets your collarbone.

"i think we could easily get more than one from her, c'mon, look how desperate she is. feel how desperate she is." steve looks at eddie over your shoulder, cocking his head to the side, crooking his fingers at the same time — your tummy quivers, pussy fluttering around the long digits sinking in and out, making sloppy sounds that sound like heaven to both men.

"i— i'm not—" your eyebrows marry together as you struggle to form a sentence, sweat matting your hair to your forehead as you're rocked back and forth between the both of them. they're talking about you like you're not even there — using and abusing your holes and taking you for everything you've got. it makes you all the more dizzy, knowing they're thinking of you as nothing more than a dirty sex toy to pass around.

eddie chuckles, pouting enough that you can feel it when his lips purse against your heated skin, "aww, sweetheart. nothing going on in that tiny little brain of yours, huh?" he taunts, palms at the thick fat of your inner thigh again, this time soothing and squeezing it, setting your body alight.

steve's thumb swipes over your abused clit and you swear your vision whites out for a moment — it feels bruised, battered, enough so that it almost hurts when he brushes it. teeters on the right side of too much.

they worked together too well, steve and eddie. knowing glances between them had all four hands, all twenty fingers working together to work you up and push you over the edge in a record time. the deep, burning heat pooling in your belly and igniting just as quick.

the force of your orgasm shocks you — wracks through you until you're vibrating and clenching down around them both. eddie loses a slight bit of composure, whining high pitched as you hold his cock prisoner in the tight heat of your ass, pussy gushing even wetter than before and dripping down his balls.

"'atta girl, honey," steve coos, always more gentle than eddie and sure to give you the praise he knew you deserved, fingers slipping deftly from your cunt — only to be replaced just as quickly by the blunt, thick head of his cock.

you cry out, wiggling away but helpless to it. you're pinned in place at either side, two weighty, hard bodies holding you hostage. steve's cock slides into you with minimal resistance, pressing snug in the tight walls of your pussy.

you don't miss the way eddie groans, pushes up into your ass and moves his hands from your spread legs to grip at steve momentarily — "holy shit, can fucking feel you splitting her open, jesus christ."

they both give you a moment, if you could even call it that, before they're giving each other a knowing look over your shoulder. they look at each other like you're not even there, a silent agreement as they begin fucking you.

and it's not slow. at all. it's fast, brutal, teeters on violent as steve slides out and sinks back in, simultaneously pushing you down onto eddie and forcing him deeper into your ass until you're practically screaming.

it feels so fucking good you're sick with it. you're so full you feel like you could be torn open, but the way they work together with roaming hands and heavy bodies eases and relaxes you until you're nothing but a whimpering, begging cockwhore.

"who do you fuckin' belong to, baby, huh?" eddie's voice is unwavering, hands roaming from your waist to your tits that bounce with every harsh thrust, fingers gripping and twisting at your nipples until you're wailing and thrashing around on top of him, pushing both of their cocks out slightly, "use your words. now."

steve's hips piston into yours, emphasizing the brutal force by rolling his pelvis when he's buried as deep as he can go. you're so stupid and hazy you can't reply. all you can do is grab onto the meat of steve's bicep and cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks as every part of your body is set on fire with rough touches.

"answer him, don't be a brat," steve grunts, gripping under your thigh to bend your leg upwards to your chest, somehow opening you up so he can fuck into you deeper, harder.

"i'm—" you choke on your words, eyes rolling into your skull when steve's blunt cockhead catches on your spongey wall just right and drags, "fuck, fuck — m'yours, yours, all yours."

the clapping of their hips against yours increases tenfold as your pussy floods and gushes for them, eddie grunting and pulling at your nipples until you wail, steve biting and nipping at your collarbone.

you're reduced to nothing more than a set of holes for them to use as they please. you don't want it to end, never want it to stop.

eddie's tongue is sharp, a deep, rumbling laugh escaping him, "perfect, sweetheart. that's it, fuck. you gonna let us both cum in you, hmm? fill you up nice? you love it, being used like a cumrag, don't you?"

steve grunts from where he mouths at your flushed skin, hips stuttering, "shut your filthy fucking mouth, munson," he snarks, bitchy, "you're gonna make me cum too quick."

"don't worry, steve. i'm right there with you," eddie admits, "she's so fucking tight, goddamn you should feel it. if she ever lets you in her ass, that is."

you want to yell 'i'm right here!' — instead all that comes out is a desperate, whimpering moan, as your orgasm crescendos and washes over you in tidal waves. the stimulation hitting you like a freight train all at once and driving you over the edge.

you feel your cunt gushing, both holes clenching and unclenching sporadically as you cum, hard. the breath feels like it's knocked from your lungs, winding you. body going limp as you flop around like a ragdoll between both men.

"so good for us, sweet girl, oh fuck, fuck," steve groans, gripping onto your thigh tight enough to leave bruises as his cock kicks up and pulses inside of you, painting your cunt in his cum. you feel it paint your insides, hot and sticky, drooling from your aching, used walls.

"jesusfuckingchrist," you barely register eddie's voice as he pulls you down by the hips and practically impales you on his cock, rocking your hips back and forth on him and biting down on your shoulder until tears prick at your eyes. he grunts and moans into your salty skin, hands rough yet soothing on your sore hips as he unloads in you.

they apologise for being so rough later on, in their own ways. steve showers you down gently and kisses every last mark they left behind with soft lips. eddie tickles and rubs your back until you fall asleep, leaving you a pliant, contented mess of limbs.

#eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #steddie x reader smut #eddie munson fic #steve harrington fic #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #my fanfic #mine #x reader

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cowboykento · 2 months

Text

you wake up early one morning to make coffee for you and cowboy!kento for when he returns from the morning work. he smiles when he sees you in the kitchen, wearing nothing but his t-shirt that reaches just past your butt.

“g’mornin’ pretty girl.” he says, stepping into the kitchen.

“good morning, ken,” you reply with your own smile. “was about to make breakfast, you’re in sooner than i thought you’d be.”

he hums, pulling you in close before you have a chance to hand him his coffee, kissing you passionately. it starts slow, like the morning, but then his tongue slips into your mouth, hungry for more.

“that’s okay, darlin’, was thinkin of having somethin else for breakfast, anyway,” he replies with a smirk that’s too handsome for his own good.

you giggle, “oh? what’s that, handsome?”

his hands slip below your ass, picking you up and placing you on the counter gently, returning his lips to yours.

“i think you know, sweetheart,” he answers, his hands rubbing along your hips, pleasantly surprised to find that you’re not wearing any panties. “mmm, you must, you made it even easier for me, didn’t ya? such a sweet girl. my sweet girl,” he says, kissing you again before pulling you to the edge of the counter, pushing his t-shirt up enough to reveal your pussy.

he gets on his knees, ever reverent of you, and kisses along your leg, sending shivers up your spine. your fingers find their place in his straw-colored hair, pushing it away from his face.

“y’gonna let me enjoy my breakfast, darlin’?” he looks up at you, pleading in his eyes.

your ankles cross behind his back as you nod, biting your lower lip in anticipation.

“good girl,” he mutters before delving in, licking a stripe through your folds.

your grip in his hair tightens immediately as he finds your clit, kissing and sucking it gently. you let out a moan, tossing your head back in pleasure.

his tongue is all over you—licking from your clit to your entrance and sucking up all of your juices like it’s the nectar of the gods.

“always taste so good for me, princess,” he mumbles against your cunt, too starved to pull himself away for even a moment.

you pull at his hair even harder, urging him on as if he needed it. he moans against your clit, sending vibrations through your body and forcing a moan of your own out from your lips.

he sucks your clit with precision, his fingers making their way to your hole, slipping one in and curling it up to find the spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“oh, fuck, kento, oh my god,” you moan loudly.

your perfect moans only motivate him further as he picks up his pace, licking your clit and fucking you with his finger.

he slips a second in, drawing another pretty whine from you, and he thinks this is the closest he’s ever gotten to heaven. the sun pools in from the windows, casting light on you like a goddess.

“so, so gorgeous, angel,” he says, fucking you faster, desperate to taste your release on his tongue.

“fuck, kento,” you pant, “i’m close, i’m close—gonna cum!”

your words make him groan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl. cum all over my tongue.”

his words are all it takes for the coil in your tummy to snap, your release pouring out of you and right onto kento’s eager tongue. he doesn’t let up his ministrations, in fact he picks up the pace yet again, fucking you desperately through your orgasm.

when the shocks and shudders of your release subside, kento pulls off you begrudgingly, but not before placing another kiss on your cunt.

when he stands up again, you pull him in for a kiss, and you can taste yourself all over his lips and tongue. your release shines in his chin and nose, and his hair is a mess from your pulling, but you think he’s never looked so handsome.

he kisses you just as hungrily, like he’ll never get enough of you, when you finally pull away for a breath.

“wanna go back to bed? let me return the favor?”

he grins at you before his hands slip back under your thighs, picking you up and taking you back to his bed for another round.

you have to make another pot of coffee when you’re finally done, but you’d make a million more to spend every morning like this with kento.

sfw cowboy!kento masterlist

nsfw cowboy!kento masterlist

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jjk nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento #cowboy!kento🤍

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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

Note

Can I ask for a similar scenarios for Unrequited (Alastor x reader). It could be a part 2 technically ♥️♥️

Reader defending Husk from Alastor when he threatens him in ep 5?? Breaking their already destroyed friendship even more. I NEED ANGST IN MY LIFE

A/N uh,, of course??? i love this idea??? I... I'm obsessed. I'm literally so excited to write this. I hope you like whatever I come up with. If you requested something I will get it out in the next couple days!! I'm trying to be quick.

Unrequited Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Angst and an unhealthy as fuck relationship. Pining. Non-mutual pining.

Word Count: 2,681 (The way this is like twice as long as part one. I got excited. Sorry guys.)

Part One: Unrequited (Alastor x Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

"So, once we have the proof that redemption is possible," Charlie was explaining to her father as they walked through the halls of the hotel, Vaggie and Alastor trailing behind the pair, "this whole hotel will be full of demons wanting to check out into Heaven. We just need a little more time to prove it. The sharing circles haven't been working as fast as I hoped-"

"Hey, Boss. Can we have a word?" Husk cut in.

Alastor stopped in his tracks, an eyebrow raised. Placing an arm behind his back, he turned to face the cat demon in irritation.

"What is it?" Alastor asked, his narrowed eyes the only thing about his face which displayed his true emotions.

Alastor's gaze softened slightly as he realized Y/n was standing beside Husk. She grabbed her left arm with her right, rubbing it in obvious discomfort as she looked away from Alastor and Husk, examining the walls with determination.

"Listen, we all know Mimzy only shows up when she needs somethin'." Husk sighed after a moment, realizing he wasn't going to be getting anything but moral support from his anxious and angry companion, "That bitch is trouble, and who knows what kinda demon she fucked with to come running to you this time?"

Alastor took a step forward, watching the two demon's carefully. Irritation ticked at the back of his head like a countdown for a bomb. He had to be careful. There was already so much wrong between Y/n and himself, he had no desire to make any of it worse. Alastor, as much as he hated it, knew she was close with Husk, cared for him even. He tried his best to remain calm.

"It's nothing I can't handle. Don't worry, Husker." Alastor turned away, moving to head back down the hallway after the rest of the tour, "Who in their right mind would cross me?"

Y/n looked over at her companion, feeling a shift in the air beside her. He had is fists clenched, his brow furrowed. Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

Husk turned, meeting Y/n's eyes. She gave him a pointed look, one that reminded him who he was talking to. One that asked him to be careful. Husk took a deep breath and unclenched his muscles. Y/n's hand fell back to her side.

"I mean..." Husk tried to chose his words carefully. He was honestly worried about the whole Mimzy situation and wasn't going to give it up, "you've been gone a while and it's not like anyone knows why."

Alastor stilled, turning his head slightly to the side. He watched Husk carefully over his shoulder as he replied.

"They don't need to know." Alastor turned to face Husk fully now, leaning towards him with a finger in the air, "And don't you worry your fuzzy head about it."

Husk growled, pushing Alastor's hand from his head as the Radio Demon tried to scratch his ears.

"You may own my soul, but I ain't your fucking pet!" he snapped, poking Alastor harshly in the chest.

"But you are!" Alastor laughed, straightening himself.

Husk was trembling with anger now, unable to hold himself back. Alastor turned again, once more making to rejoin the group he had left and Husk watched him through narrowed eyes.

Y/n nudged Husk's foot lightly with the tip of her boot in an effort to remind him to keep his cool, but Husk brushed it off entirely. He stepped forward, out of her reach.

"Big talk for someone who's also on a leash."

Y/n sighed. Alastor stopped walking. The lights flickered out in the hall for a moment.

"Aha, what did you say?"

Alastor barley turned to look at them as he spoke. It was enough that Y/n caught the dials in his eyes, a sign he was truly and genuinely angry.

"Oh fuck." she mumbled under her breath as Husk began to back away.

"Nothing." he insisted, "I, um-"

Husk excuses were cut short as the all too familiar green chain and collar formed in the air around him. Alastor, his back still to Husk, tugged the chain. The cat demon fell to the floor, his eyes wide and wild with fear.

"If you ever say that again," Alastor threatened, his back still to Husk as he began to wrap his end of the chain around his microphone, pulling it taught, "I will tear your soul apart and broadcast your screams..."

There was a resistance in the chain. Alastor stopped speaking and turned around, his rage growing by the second. He opened his mouth to yell, he felt his demon form aching to come out. Everything stopped when he realized what was actually happening.

Alastor had assumed Husk had found something to hold on to, that he was fighting back. Alastor had been wrong. Instead, in the space between the two demons stood Y/n. She had her hands wrapped tightly around the green chain and was using all her weight to pull it back towards Husk. Alastor's mouth fell slightly open, his brow furrowed. He hadn't known someone not involved in a deal could touch the chains.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Y/n yelled, yanking the chain harshly towards her.

The movement caught Alastor off guard. He stumbled forward a few steps before catching his balance.

"Nothing is wrong with me, dearest." he cordially replied, quickly regaining his composure, "I'm simply reminding our favorite Husker where his place is in the world."

As Alastor spoke, he switched his menacing gaze back to Husk who was trembling on the floor behind Y/n.

"You're a dick!" Y/n exclaimed, trying to pull Alastor towards her again with the chain.

This time, he was ready for it and stood his ground as Y/n continued to speak.

"He was genuinely worried about you, you know? I didn't want to ask about this Mimzy shit, I wanted to watch you fucking fail for once but Husk? He was worried. He cared about you, and what do you do?"

Y/n exhaled sharply, shaking her head. Alastor watched in awe. This was the biggest reaction he'd gotten out of the girl in years. He had no idea how to react. It was oddly heartbreaking, oddly exhilarating.

"I just... god, I can't believe I ever trusted you."

The chain disappeared in Alastor's shock. Y/n regarded him carefully for a moment before she decided not to waste time and turned to Husk. Crouching down before him, she slowly helped her friend to his feet. Allowing him to balance on her, Y/n began to lead the still trembling Husk down the hallway back to the lobby.

Husk couldn't help but notice, Y/n's hands were far from still either. He looked over at her: brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, a tight frown on her lips. Husk opened his mouth to speak, to thank her, to ask if she was okay but before he could say a word, Alastor spoke again.

"Y/n, I'd like a word with you."

She stilled and so did Husk. This time, it was her turn to keep her back towards Alastor, rather than him keeping his to them. If she had learned anything from Alastor over the years, it was how power worked. Right now, she had the slightest bit of an upper hand unless he decided to use the chain of her own deal. Y/n wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

"Why?" she asked harshly after a moment.

Husk raised his eyebrows, reiterating the unspoken warning he'd ignored from her just a few moments before.

"Please."

Now that was unexpected. Y/n sighed, turning to Husk.

"You okay to go down on your own?"

"Yeah." Husk nodded, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

Y/n took his arm from her shoulder. Had it been anyone else, Husk would have been embarrassed, would have never accepted the help in the first place. This was Y/n, this was different. If anyone understood, she did.

"You gonna be okay, kid?" Husk asked in a hushed voice as she squared her shoulders, turning to face Alastor.

"Yeah." she hummed softly in return, "Always am, aren't I?"

Y/n took a handful of long, confident strides that landed her in front of Alastor once again. She stood tall and confident before him as he smiled menacingly down at her. Husk stood, watching them for a moment before Alastor looked over at him.

"Run along now, Husker." he playfully called to the reluctant cat demon, "I won't keep your soldier long."

Husk made no reply or move to leave until Y/n turned her head to the side, sending him a careful look over her shoulder.

"It's all good. I promise."

Husk nodded hesitently before at last turning around and heading back to the lobby. Y/n and Alastor watched one another carefully, niether saying a word until Husk was fully out of ear shot.

"What did you want to see me about?" Y/n asked coldly, crossing her arms, ready to be punished and not the least bit regretful of what she had done.

"I simply wanted to apologize." Alastor hummed, everything suddenly feeling a lot closer to normal.

Y/n's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"For what?" she asked after a moment, when it became clear Alastor would explain nothing without her prompting.

"That you had to witness that."

"I-" Y/n cut herself off with a sigh, shaking her head slightly, "Jesus fuck, Al."

"Language." he warned and Y/n just glared at him. He changed his tactic. "What ever is the matter, my dear?"

"You are just... why are you apologizing to me?" Y/n demanded, frustration seeping into her voice like sweet sticky honey that caught on everything, "Go apologize to Husk. As I already said, I was hoping this... Mimzy thing... would let me see you fail. He just wanted to help you, and look where that got him."

Alastor's perpetual smile softened slightly around it's edges.

"Why are you so set on watching me fail?" he asked after a a few tense seconds.

Y/n let out a rueful laugh, letting her arms fall from around her chest and settling her hands on her hips.

"Because gosh, wouldn't it just be lovely?" she grinned back at him.

"What?"

"If you got a taste of your own medicine." she taunted, "Caring about someone, trusting them with everything you have, only to have that very thing be the weapon they hold against you in the end."

Of course, it all came back to that. Alastor couldn't blame her.

"Y/n, I don't know how many times I have to say it for you to believe me, but I really did not intend for things to turn out this way." Alastor sighed.

Seven years since he'd seen her and it only took them what, four/five months to come back to this conversation? A new record.

"It doesn't matter how you intended for them to be, it's how they are."

She spun on her heel, taking a few steps towards the lobby before coming to a stop once again.

"Sorry, I forgot." she spat, not turning to look at him, "May I go now, sir?"

"I..." Alastor cleared his throat, "Of course. I have business to attend to."

"Great."

Alastor stood in the hallway, watching Y/n as she disappeared around the corner, watching the air she had occupied. He sighed, there was nothing to be done. There had been some small hope that somehow, someway, the hotel would hope. Clearly, he had been wrong. Alastor shook his head softly in the quiet peace of the hallway.

He wanted to give up on Y/n, he knew he should but still... he just couldn't. It was like a puzzle he was missing a piece of, a game he hadn't quite figured out how to win. A challenge. Alastor never backed down from one of those. He never had before and he certainly wasn't going to start now.

The strange jittery feeling of determination began to feed into his chest cavity through his veins. Doubt, anger, hurt, heartbreak -- all of it was being flushed out and replaced with sheer stubbornness. Alastor couldn't help but feel if he had Y/n, then everything would be okay. That she was the answer to his problems, that if she could love him then he would finally have won. What? Not even Alastor himself could say but that wasn't going to stop him. Nothing was.

----

Y/n sat down at the bar with a sigh as Husk quickly poured her a drink.

"Thank you." he awkwardly said as she downed the glass in one gulp, tapping the edge to ask for a refil.

"For what?" Y/n casually replied as he refilled her cup.

She picked it back up again, this time taking only a single small sip. She savored the second drink and Husk leaned forward on the bar.

"You know what." he rolled his eyes pointedly.

Thankfully Angel and Sir Pentions were keeping Mimzy entertained in the sitting room. None of the trio seemed to notice Husk and Y/n's return. Y/n swiveled her barstool around, leaning her back on the bar top as she watched them enjoy one another's company.

"Shit, Husk." she sighed, "You know me."

"I do." Husk nodded, straightening up and turning to place the bottle of liquor back on the shelf, "What I don't know is how you had the balls to pull something like that."

"I'm not afraid of him." Y/n shrugged, taking another little sip of her drink.

"Bullshit." Husk scoffed and Y/n turned back to him.

"I swear it, I'm not."

"How." Husk asked, eyeing her suspiciously, waiting for her to drop the act, "I felt you shaking earlier."

Y/n shook her head.

"Nah, that wasn't fear. I was just fucking pissed."

"He's the Radio Demon, he literally owns our souls, Y/n. How are you not scared of him."

Y/n's eyes fell onto the contents of her glass as she shrugged again, swirling the liquid around in the bottom of her glass.

"I..." she sighed, "I mean, you know this. I didn't know that's what was going on until..." she trailed off, clearing her throat, "We were friends, for a while actually."

"I know. I remember."

"I cared about him."

The truth hit Husk in the face like a speeding truck.

"Holy shit." he laughed in disbelief, "You like, cared cared about him, didn't you?"

Y/n's cheeks flushed the slightest bit pink. She met Husk's eyes once again.

"I think I was starting to."

"That's why your not scared of him. You loved him."

"Yeah." Y/n sighed after a moment, a sharp pain cutting through her chest like someone was cracking open her ribcage in a morgue, "I guess. Did being the operative word there of course, as in: not anymore. Not that he could ever love someone anyways even if I still did. Oh! Also, if he apologizes to you, tell me?"

"Wh..." Husk's brow furrowed in confusion at the sudden change in topic, "Why would he apologize to me, Y/n?"

"I maybe yelled at him."

"I... you're gonna get yourself killed one day."

Y/n laughed a bright, genuine laugh and Husk smiled over at her in return.

"Maybe." she smirked, leaning over the counter at him, "At least I'll have you to plan my funeral."

"Oh like I'd do that." Husk teased.

"Sure you would."

"Yeah. I'd have it at a gas station."

"Hey, rude." Y/n scoffed, "If you died, I'd throw yours at a casino or something. I'd expect the same kinda treatment on your end for me."

Husk shook his head softly, smiling. At the end of the day, he couldn't help feeling a little lucky for Alastor's deal. How else was he supposed to have met his best friend?

"Yep. Definitely gonna be at a gas station."

---

A/N I'm sorry Husk and the reader are besties and that's what this ended up being about. Yeah. Uh. Yeah.

Unrequited Pt. 3

968 notes · View notes

hoseoksluna · 1 month

Text

MIST | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.3k

summary: one encounter with jungkook makes you forget about your boyfriend.

playlist: mist / pinterest board: mist

warnings: the unfolding of polyamory, provocation, cuckold kink, cum eating, oc and yoongi fight, use of vulgar names, mentions of female masturbation, punishment, spanking, hair pulling, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, nipple play, disobedience, use of a sex toy, multiple orgasms, yoongi isn't comfortable with a certain sexual practice at first, spit kink, oc feels pain and likes it

note: it's here, you guys oh my god. this is part two of STEAM. i thought this would have only two parts, but when i got to the end, it was evident that it needs another one. i worked hard on this, guys. if you haven't read my little updates, i was literally sick today and threw up my breakfast, but i still somehow managed to get this writing done, so make sure you let me know how much you love this, hate this, what you expect and what you're feeling. pls!!! my inbox is open for you always x enjoy reading, love you all. ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

side note: HOBI'S NEW ALBUM IS OUT SLDKFJSDLFJSFJSLDF.

The night is feverish.

So much that small pearls of its perspiration settle over the arc of your hand, between your thumb and your index, peeking from beneath the enfolding of your crossed legs. It’s as if the darkened heavens were hot and bothered while eavesdropping on the conversation you’re having with the two males sitting by the table, one right next to you and the other across from you. Even the clouds have halted their drift and the stars… they haven’t dared to blink, focused entirely on the question slipping from the mouth of the male you’ve known the least amount of time.

Is this gonna be a one time thing?

You will your mind to be empty, for if you allow yourself to think about it, your answer is as clear as the flare of those lights above. And you don’t want to voice out how much you like the idea of the sex being continual in fear of being turned down, in fear of Jungkook wanting this to be a one night only matter. What’s worse, you’re terrified of awakening Yoongi’s wrath. You believe the wine in your hand is the only bitterness you can manage to swallow.

Oh.

You chuckle.

A mist blankets your shoulders, the softest of summer drizzles. A briskness that steals your attention from the double meaning swarming in your brain. But when you lift your eyes to welcome in the small rain, it’s Jungkook’s gaze that you meet. Dark eyelashes, heavied down by the weight of the half-drunk bottle of red that you and him have been drinking. An ivory swirl of brightness glossing over dilated pupils, fixated on you. On your own blurry left eye, the sheen of your mouth, past your neck to the shimmery glow of your collarbones and your right eye. The coldness of the mist thickens, yet it’s not the reason behind your gooseflesh. No, it’s quite far from it.

What roughens your skin is that very intentional stare. The slight narrowness to his once perpetually round eyes as he, for a mere second, shifts his gaze from your boyfriend back to you, adamantly expecting a response, one you refuse to have. It’s such a stark change to his countenance that, besides being stirred by it, you’re completely in awe of it. The smooth forehead, the slightly raised brow and smug mouth, now adorned with a lip ring that wasn’t there before. You don’t find the good man with purity in his eyes that, days ago, made a ruckus out of your life sitting before you, but someone else entirely.

A man, whose arousal emanates out of him like fragrance, seeping into your fresh mango scent scattered along the perimeters of your skin.

A man, like Yoongi had predicted, came to you like a puppy through him, asking you out for dinner.

Horny puppy. You squeeze your legs, hiding your faint smile behind the rim of your wine glass, tilting the carmine nectar into your mouth. Jungkook examines the bobble of your throat, the dart of your tongue as the muscle drifts across the rosy brownness of your bottom lip and you’re heedful of it—a moonlight personified, the mist around you like the clouds clinging to that planetary body.

Jungkook calls you by your name. “What’s funny?”

A momentary stillness. You thought your soft laughter was unheard. Your brain goes empty, mouth parts, the entirety of your vocabulary vanishes—

“I think that’s something we decide after the night is over,” Yoongi answers Jungkook’s question lowly, propping a strong palm on the cloth of the table. The wet breeze dampens his hair, leaves a glow to his pale face. You wonder how he feels—if he’s still as okay with it as he was while fucking the life out of you—if he’s now, perhaps, facing some internal doubts that you know nothing of, that he hides beneath his words. “A collective decision.”

He looks at you and beams at you with a tight-lipped smile. An expression that conveys that he wants this for you. You let out a sigh of relief, placing your hand on top of his and Yoongi makes a space for your fingers to fold in between his. Like he always does when he’s giving you backshots.

A gooseflesh changed for hot flashes. You become the night, its fever thudding inside your lit skin. A familiar ache begins to grow in between your legs, demanding it. As if Jungkook’s lustful expression and energy wasn’t enough, your boyfriend had to remind you of something so intimate.

You want both of them—right now.

Jungkook’s gape falls on your intertwined hands. Lover’s grasp. You note recognition, and perhaps a flashback, pulses with a dimmed light for a mere heartbeat in his eyes. It worsens your ache and, like Yoongi’s hair, you feel your panties dampen under your dress. You squeeze your thighs one more time before you untangle your legs, your heels clanging on the concrete, your knee bumping into Jungkook’s.

So close to him, yet so far away.

You let yourself dream about how he fucks. Rough strokes, those muscled thighs straddling you—

“You agree with this?”

A question from him directed towards you. Your throat dries up, dizzy from being pulled back to Earth. You take a long sip of your wine, but it doesn’t help your state. On the contrary, the buzz of the alcohol makes you tremble all over, intensifying your lightheadedness. You want to be fucked. Multiple times. Until you can’t walk.

You wet your lips. “Of course,” you say, squeezing Yoongi’s fingers once, twice, letting him know through your own version of Morse code how horny you’re becoming, hoping he gets the memo. “It’s smart. If we made the decision now, who’s to say you won’t get sick of me?”

Your response hurt you and you cringe, regretting your words. Your knuckles turn white, the breeze brushes through your hair and you relax your hold. Let out a hard breath.

If he got sick of you after fucking you, you’d hate yourself for the rest of your life. Move out to a cave, far from civilization, so no one would see you ever again.

Jungkook raises his brows, shaking his head. The smug smile on his lips remains, as if sewn into his skin. You wish you could wipe it away and straddle him right here in front of everyone—

“Sweetheart, don’t think that. I won’t get sick of you.” He toys with the foot of his wine glass, fingers moving it in slow circles as though he was—

Such a fucking tease.

Your clit throbs. You won’t think that, all right. You’ll keep your mind empty and stupid just for him.

You watch the movement of his digits, smiling slyly. The night rushes within you and, mentally, you wrap a collar around your neck in order to stop yourself from crawling across the table and taking a seat on his lap. A yearning forms. A yearning to feel the semi you know full well he’s sporting in his pants. You bite your lip, squeezing Yoongi’s hand again. He merely chuckles, aware of what the pair of you is doing and it’s too much for you.

You need a dick rearranging your guts. Right now.

Perhaps, two.

You stifle a groan.

“Tell you what. I have a cabin out in the mountains. With toys,” Jungkook says and you widen your eyes, his deep voice fraternizing with the night in you. Toys as in…? “An hour away from here. I can show you there how much I’m willing to not get sick of you.”

Yoongi’s chuckle amplifies and you’re struck. Fucked up. Your cunt drools, ruining your panties. Your cheeks flush. Feverish, beyond feverish—you’re on fire. Your breathing gains speed and fuck. Toys?

You have no thoughts. All that your brain is filled with is dick. Two dicks.

Yoongi lifts his hand, unsnarling your intertwinement, and he sneaks it beneath your dress. His fingers feel up the drenched material of your underwear and hums. You reckon he already expected to find you wet and his sound of approval coaxes more of your dewiness to try and come into contact with him, but to your dismay and his, the fabric stands in the way.

For two beats of time, Yoongi puts pressure on your clit as he feels up more of you and, faintly, so no one hears, you mewl, hiding your face beneath your palm. You swallow your whine for more, instead you sigh, camouflaging your moment of weakness. Bury your gaze into Yoongi’s, silently pleading him to take you home.

Yoongi only smirks down at you before he faces Jungkook. “She’s wet. I think it’s safe to say she’d like that.”

You slap his arm and Yoongi takes his hand away. The men laugh and you feel terrible, but not for long. You decide to take charge of the energy.

“What kind of toys?” You will your voice to be confident and it’s only a split of it that comes out. You don’t mind—it’s enough because it silences their laughter, seriousness taking place instead.

Jungkook licks his lips, adjusting in his seat—like Yoongi during that video call—and you sense it moving through you. You also feel the need to adjust, to peel your panties away from your cunt, discomfort seizing you a little. “I’ll show you tomorrow. Or the weekend after that?” Your eyes widen in panic. No—no, you can’t wait that long. He smiles fondly at you, sensing your emotions. “Tomorrow, then.”

You sigh in relief, downing your wine, but Jungkook isn’t done with you.

“Will you pack your little red robe?”

You choke.

Amidst the chaos of the situation, you didn’t even realize he saw you. You didn’t even detect his eyes drifting that low. Thought Yoongi’s body colliding into you prevented him from seeing your intimate nighttime attire, but then you grasp that due to your shock, you might have missed that.

Jungkook’s smirk widens.

Oh, you want to say you’ll pack your little lace number that Yoongi particularly likes, along with your garters and stockings, though you opt to say something else entirely. You decide you want to steam him a tiny bit. Dominate the energy. Make him uneasy. For ulterior motives.

“Will you brush off the cobwebs on your condoms when packing or should I buy you new ones?” You quirk your brow, finger wiping away the drop of red that slipped out of the corner of your mouth. It’s all just talk—you want him to fuck you raw—a straight allusion to his loneliness that Yoongi told you about. Amused, Jungkook’s darkened eyes follow your movement.

“Will you lick that finger?”

You’re convinced your bloodstream came to a standstill. You don’t breathe, you don’t hear anything—your entire being becomes him, melding with the night, the moonlight. It’s him who now erases your brain. Yoongi touches your thigh, his fingers skimming the bare skin, but you don’t feel them. No, you pierce your gaze through Jungkook’s, penetrating right into his soul. And you simply decide that you want to own it.

So much for steaming.

“Do you want me to?” you retort, fluttering your lashes, the smile you give him as seductive as moonlight fluttering in you. You tap your finger on your bottom lip. Watch as his hand drifts somewhere beneath the table.

He taps your knee in the same, identical beat. And, instinctively, you widen your legs. Your other knee bumps into Yoongi’s thigh.

His first touch on your skin. You burn. Thank the heavens for slipping the idea inside your mind to wear a short dress. You inhale a breath in. Bite your lip, impatient for his answer. Tense your body so your trembles aren’t evident. You want to be strong, confident, despite the fact your body longs to submit to Jungkook—to be at his complete disposal, to be his, his to smooth down those quivers.

Jungkook spreads his fingers along the roundness of your knee. Caresses you once. Then, nods. “Lick it for me.”

Your heart jumps out of your chest. Right into his glass of wine. A flashback fills your brain—Yoongi saying familiar words to you on the night that perpetually changed your life. Stick it in your mouth for me. It must have rustled through his being just like it has in you. Has caused enough mayhem in him that he used those words. For me. He wants you to be naughty, be a little slut that listens to his commands—for him.

Oh, and you shall do as he asks.

Yoongi spreads an arm on the back of your chair, fingers sinking into your hair. The attention of both men, the lewdness, your wetness coating your panties, the warmth of the wine in your stomach, the night and the soft rain—you brim with life. You’re so elated that you’re sure you’re luminous.

You plunge your red-tinged finger into your mouth. Keep it open for both men to see how you swirl your tongue around the digit before you close it. You make exaggerated sucking noises, your instincts and habits telling you to roll your eyes, but you decide against them. You’re in public after all—and you don’t really want to give Jungkook the full experience. Not yet.

But then Yoongi pulls your hair and unwittingly, in a second, you moan. You shoot him a look, withdrawing your finger. He only chuckles, loosening his hold on your hair, the love in his eyes growing, mingling with joy and excitement. The sight of it calms you like still, deep waters and suddenly, you’re suffused with the desire to kiss him.

Jungkook steals your attention, however. In typical fashion.

He squeezes your knee between his thumb and forefinger, making you look at him. He’s propped his elbows on his thighs and the position broadens his shoulders more, the fabric of his black linen shirt taut around his muscles. The breeze quivers his lashes, strengthening the dimness and the lustfulness in his eyes. No glint of light to be found—just an abyss, bottomless eternity, enlivened by the scent of chocolate, the color of his eyes. It doesn’t unnerve you, on the contrary it boundlessly stimulates you.

“You listen well,” he drawls, skimming his first knuckle down the smoothness of your shin before trailing back up. Gooseflesh—hard, thrilling gooseflesh. Your breath comes out choppy and you’re too transfixed by his feisty, lascivious aura to do something, anything about it. “But can you misbehave?”

Your jaw falls open. At a loss for words. Brain muddy, cunt dripping. Your vocabulary long gone, your decision to be the one who takes charge of the situation long forgotten, long erased—more like—by someone who’s proved himself to be more dominant than your own boyfriend. Your boyfriend who has made you cry multiple times during sex.

You let your trembles show. Bare, vulnerable.

Yoongi strokes your hair, nuzzling his face behind your ear, placing a singular kiss there and it grounds you. Envelops a shield of safety around you. The breeze nourishes it.

Jungkook slaps the side of your thigh softly. You gasp almost breathlessly, the impact vibrating through your body, the pulse on your clit a full drum.

“Tomorrow then. At my cabin. Bring your robe,” he mutters, hypnotizing you with his gaze and you submit to it, unreservedly. This time, he drags his palm down your shin and his warmth guides you as you extend your leg for him, propping it between his outstretched legs, on the edge of his chair. He straightens, welcoming your gesture. “No condoms, no panties. Pussy dripping, preferably.” He halts the venture of his hand at your ankle, long fingers stretching to grab a hold of the heel of your stiletto. Flicks his eyes to Yoongi. “You can either make sure she’s wet or,” he pauses, whisking his gaze back to you. “You can touch your pussy for me? How’s that?”

A carousel of dreams floods your mind and, fighting against the lodge in your throat, you voice out the one you like the most. You don’t want Yoongi to decide for you—you desire the decision to be yours, yours only. “Can I call you then?”

Jungkook quickly raises his brows, stupefied by your answer. He didn’t expect that from you, and that fact makes you giddy. Night flowers begin to bloom in you, evening primrose and chocolate daisy—his flowers. They spread their petals when he says, “of course you can. Call me from his phone.”

Ever so persistent in the game of the roleplay. You could have exchanged numbers, but no. He wants it to be from the cuck’s phone.

Yoongi grips your thigh, hard enough to make you wince. Even through your hypnosis, tipsiness and arousal, you sense that something is wrong. You turn your head to look at him and you discover that the love in his eyes, joy and excitement has gone out. Solemness has replaced it and into it, little by little, like the bottle of red Jungkook now tilts to your glass, overflows his wine of wrath.

The threat you feared the most.

You drop your leg to the ground and Jungkook lets you. Yoongi slackens his hold and you wonder what it was exactly that Yoongi didn’t like. The fact that Jungkook touched your leg or the plan between the pair of you—you touching yourself for him—that never had his approval? You release a breath, aware that you’ve done something very bad and your hypnosis and your smile declines with it. You even push your glass away, sobering up. The night flowers in you wilt.

Yoongi relaxes beside you and you slip your fingers between his.

You must have overdone it and the perception of that causes guilt to pool in your core. You should’ve at least looked at Yoongi to make sure he’s okay with it before jumping head-first. Nerves rise within you and you reach for your pack of cigarettes, hoping to chase your negative feelings away. Both men watch you, but the energy has already shifted. Arousal has evaporated and now, like the mist, seriousness settles in its place. Jungkook gives you a soft smile and you realize that your guilt is written all over your face, but he doesn’t say anything. Not to you; not to Yoongi.

The man before you returns to the good man you know, although his smug pride doesn’t let him become the healer that you know him to be.

The ride home is silent.

Jungkook texted Yoongi the address to his cabin as soon as you said your goodbyes. Your boyfriend scowled at the message before he pocketed his phone, taking your hand and walking a little faster to his car, as if to run away from the mess you’ve created. You felt so bad that you let him trail you behind him like a child, chin tilted to your chest, the heft of your guilt pressing down at you like a murky cloud.

The rain is thickening by the time Yoongi drives down the familiar road to his apartment. He keeps his hands tightly wrapped around the steering wheel and the gear stick, knuckles white like the moonlight that left you and fled back to the dark heavens. He doesn’t reach for the radio or his phone to play some music. Lets the rain sing instead; lets the rain mend the tension between you. You overfill, uncomfortably, with so many beginnings to your sentences, but none of them fit right—none of them really portray what you think you should say to him, so it all falls into the abyss of the night that still lingers within you.

It’s Yoongi who speaks first when he kills the engine, as if he needed the fifteen minute long car drive to think about what just happened, but it’s not the words that you want to hear. He stares ahead at the line of cars parked before him, at the canopy of trees bending to their roofs. The pitter-patter sounds of the raindrops worsen the guilt eating at your insides, especially when Yoongi remains seated with his hands in his lap.

“You’re not calling him tomorrow.”

Your deduction was right. He didn’t like the idea of you calling Jungkook while you’d be touching yourself. You get that he has the right to not feel comfortable letting his friend in on a particular sexual practice, but you want to know why. If you’re not getting your own way and he gets to decide everything, you at least want to know the reason.

“Why?” you ask, calmly. I want to, you don’t add. You fold your hands on your lap similarly to him, mirroring his body language. Feel the bubble of your disappointment sizzling in you.

“You’re fucking him tomorrow and that’s the end of it,” he mutters, waving a hand through the air sharply to emphasize his words. Doesn’t look at you. Not once. “No collective fucking decision. One time and that’s it.”

You will your calmness to stay, even when a foam of your own wrath pours into your disappointment. Do your own wishes and desires not matter at all in this situation? Or does the unfolding of it only belong to Yoongi and you have no say in it? Are you to shut your mouth or speak up?

He was the one who made a comment about your self-pleasure to Jungkook when he was fucking the shit out of you and picked up his phone to call him. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. Why did he say it if the thought of you pleasuring yourself on the phone with his friend makes him jealous? Did he really think Jungkook wouldn’t latch onto it, not want it to play out in real life?

The uncertainty, the questions devour your gut, but you go back to the start.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Yoongi sighs. Hangs his head and rakes his hands through his hair. “I said—”

You suck in a breath. “That’s not what I asked,” you spit out with a venom that you didn’t mean and Yoongi finally looks at you—catches you closing your eyes at the rush of your emotions and turning your head away from him. “I want to know why.”

Yoongi scoffs. “How come you don’t know, huh?” His voice raises in volume and it paralyzes you with fear—he’s never yelled at you before. The question itself strikes you cold and you don’t like the feeling of it crawling up your legs. “How come I have to fucking remind you?”

You’re embarrassed that you don’t know what he’s talking about, caught in the middle. You want to get out of this car and walk home, afraid—so terribly afraid of what might come next. Fuck the rain, you don’t care.

Silence, intertwined with the long breaths that he’s trying to calm himself with, floods the car. You don’t know what to say and Yoongi keeps it at that. You consider the conversation finished.

Your hand reaches for the handle.

“Stay in the car.”

Your back faces him. “I don’t want to be here.”

“Then get drenched in the fucking rain.”

In disbelief, you turn around to look at him. Yoongi boils with anger, elbow propped on the door, index finger outstretched along his cupid’s bow, staring down the myriads of cars before him, setting them on fire with his gaze.

“And I will,” you bark, frowning at him, needing to have the last word. “Don’t come running after me.”

Your hand reaches the handle again and pops it open, your foot swinging over to the wet ground, but Yoongi grabs your leg and hauls you back inside, closing the door shut.

You open your mouth to yell at him. “What is your—”

Yoongi takes your face in his hand, puckers your lips and kisses you harshly. You groan, but you don’t fight it. In fact, you kiss him back, needing him—needing him warm and not cold to you. He stays nose-to-nose once he withdraws, watching as your irises dilate. The sadness that you catch whirling past his eyes punches you in the gut, hard enough that you regret the fight you’ve caused, regret every word you said and every action that can never be erased. You hate yourself for your desires, for your ugly soul and your abhorrence becomes an anchor wrapped around your heart, dragging it down.

You whimper, but no tears come out. Yoongi pulls you onto his lap and cradles you, folding you into his chest. He rubs you back in circles, sweeps your hair to one side and you cling to his heat, wondering what the fuck just happened.

You and him never had an argument before, never met each other halfway through the decaying meadow of negative feelings while being two opposite forces. You both were always there for the other person, absorbing their feelings, on their side through and through. Until now, you’ve truly never been two separate people with separate emotions and it’s a reality check. A breath of fresh air—the sudden, brisk disentanglement of an unhealthy attachment.

Jungkook didn’t just make a ruckus out of your life, but out of your relationship, too. And by that ruckus, he healed it.

And right then and there, you find the beginning to your sentence that you were searching for.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into the fabric of his polo shirt and your apology stops Yoongi’s motions. You lift your head to look into his eyes. “I should’ve checked in with you—I admit that. It was wrong of me. You’re allowed to not be okay with something and I should respect it, act accordingly, even when I might have a different opinion.”

And your opinion shouldn’t change to be identical to his. Your thinking is your thinking. You’re your own person.

The anchor loosens and falls from your heart when that understanding takes form within you. You feel much lighter.

Yoongi frowns, but it doesn’t perturb you. Not anymore. “I will say this once so listen to me carefully,” he says, curling a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m not letting him see you touch yourself because that belongs to me—that’s what we do. Remember that.”

So that’s what he meant. Guilt clenches your heart in a deathly grip for not knowing, for not realizing it.

“If you so much as touch your clit tomorrow when he fucks you, I won’t think twice to carry you away and leave him with blue balls,” he continues, keeping his hand on your cheek. “You’re still mine, even when I’m letting him have you. You’re mine. You got that?”

You place your hands on his shoulders and nod.

“Are you still okay with it, though?” you ask, not expecting him to go along with it after this and you wouldn’t be disappointed, not anymore. The healing that took place is bigger than your desire. The freedom that you feel is better than anything your intimate parts ask for. Your relationship at this very state, at this very moment, has grown past the sexual part. Before it was just lustful love. “We don’t have to do it. Jungkook would understand, wouldn’t he?”

Yoongi sighs and presses a kiss on your cheek. You feel all of his stress and wrath dispersing into your skin. “I want this for you, honey. You were so excited about it, so into it. I’ve never seen you filled with so much light before.”

You do the same for him—you press the same kiss, on the same right side of his cheek. “So just tomorrow then?”

A tight-lipped smile, like the one at the beginning of the night. Yoongi nods. “Just tomorrow.”

You disobeyed in every way you could. Brought panties and condoms. Left your red little robe at home. Didn’t look once at the lace little number you planned to pack. Decided you wanted to keep that for Yoongi’s eyes only.

Decided you were going to paint your encounter with Jungkook with different colors, one that differs from the stained ones on your palette that you use with Yoongi.

He wants you to be bad. Yoongi wants you to be good.

It’s all your mind is suffused with as Yoongi drives into the woods and the sunlight spilling through the windshield, cutting through the trees, tempers it. No music, no conversation.

You’re empty. You think the brown barks of the passing trees have more life in them than you do and along with that difference rise questions. Questions of what you’re allowed to do and what you’re not. Questions that you’re wary to ask.

Not because there’s a lingering tension between you and Yoongi after the fight. As a matter of fact, he made love to you after you both ran for the door. Licked you clean of the rain while breathing in the heady scent of petrichor on your skin. All that had been broken was mended, beautifully. The reason why you’re nervous to ask is that you don’t want to venture back to that place of wrath. Where you are right now is a place of brisk freedom, one that you don’t want to leave, but to have a clear state of mind, you reckon you have to risk it.

You place your hand on top of Yoongi’s on the gear stick, breaking the silence with your body language. You turn your torso halfway to face him. Meet his angelic early-afternoon-kissed countenance, hidden by his black shades and the long wisps of hair falling to each side of his face.

Murmuring his name, Yoongi only hums at your call.

“I have some questions,” you say slowly, carefully making your way to the place you’re timid to go to.

“Ask away, honey.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I know I’m not allowed to touch myself and I won’t, I promise. But is there anything else that’s off limits?”

Yoongi also swallows sorely, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He takes a moment to think about it and because you’ve already brainstormed what he might not like, you make it easy for him.

“Is he allowed to kiss me?” you try, fingers grasping your dainty necklace to play with, to distract your nerves.

“Kissing is a part of sex, but if you’re not comfortable with kissing him, you don’t have to. Please,” Yoongi says your name with a sigh. “Don’t force yourself to do anything that doesn’t feel good. I beg you.”

A hit of your liquid emotions. A little vein of life springing in your body. You blink the sudden tears away, dipping your fingers into the space between his. You’re so grateful to have such a thoughtful, intelligent man like him.

“Okay, what about blowjobs?”

Yoongi sucks in a breath. Ponders it. “Well, that’s an important part of the kink, isn’t it?” He looks at you momentarily before bringing his eyes back to the road. “Watching your girlfriend suck someone else’s dick. That’s the appeal.”

“Besides watching her get fucked.”

He chuckles shortly. “That’s what I’m most excited about.”

A soft smile. “You’re excited about watching me get fucked?” Yoongi nods, but you didn’t get the answer you wanted. You go back. “So you’re not comfortable with me sucking his—”

Yoongi sighs, rubbing his forehead before slapping his hand back down on the steering wheel. “I don’t know yet, honey. We’ll see when we get there.” He squeezes it, the white of his knuckle appears and you take a mental note of that. No blowjobs, or no overindulging in the act, more like. Not knowing is an answer, too.

“And he’s allowed to eat me out?”

He doesn’t smile as he says, “he’s skilled with his tongue. You’ll lose your mind. It’s all I could ever want for you.”

You raise your brows in doubt. “No one is as skilled as you.” At that, his coy smile finally rises and you brush your thumb across the side of his hand. “Will you join in or are you just gonna watch?”

Yoongi shifts the gear and speeds down the road. “I was planning to watch only, but I guess it depends on the situation. I’m willing to join if I feel like it.” He lifts your hand and kisses the soft skin. “You nervous, honey?”

You still feel slightly empty, no nerves to be found. You shake your head ‘no’.

“You’re gonna like it there. It’s a nice cabin.”

What Yoongi said was an understatement.

When you witness the greenery enveloping the mountains, you stand gaping with your mouth half open. A warm summer wind billows in and out of the balcony, ushering in such liveliness and joy of life that you feel it slinking into each and every pore of your body, filling you up with all that you’ve been lacking. Giddiness clutches you and lingers, the flimsy curtains quivering against your thigh with each movement to and fro. You willingly become the nature—the sunlight and the slowly diffusing mist wrapped around the grays, blues and greens. The trees curtsy at your presence and a fond smile blossoms on your face.

Now, at last, you can’t wait to get fucked. You’re glad it’s going to happen at such a lovely place like this.

Jungkook, dressed in a white oversized T-shirt and a pair of cargos, takes your travel bag from Yoongi’s hand. He looks so soft that it’s hard to believe you’re staring at the same man from yesterday—he changes drastically when he’s aroused, like you takes on the likeness of the dark whenever he hears its call. It’s fascinating to you.

“Come see the room upstairs.”

Quietly, you and Yoongi follow him, your feet thudding along the wood of the stairs. And there, there your breath gets snatched altogether.

A white, heavenly canopy above the king sized bed, white furniture—void of any dust—adorned with nourished plants that sway and rustle in the wind. The summer breathes through the open wide windows and in the corner, next to a dresser, a mirror stands, a mirror with a rocking chair right beside it that causes gooseflesh to prick at your skin.

If this is where you’re getting fucked, Yoongi will have first row view of it. It’s as if Jungkook planned it all along and that speculation causes a shiver to run down your spine.

Jungkook sets your bag and Yoongi’s on the mattress. Skims his surroundings in case there’s any untidiness that he hasn’t touched and one glance at Yoongi tells you that he spent the first half of the day cleaning up the place.

Cute puppy. You and Yoongi share a smile.

“This is where you’ll be sleeping,” Jungkook says, straightening his spine.

“We’ll be sleeping?” you joke and the men shoot you a look, which makes you burst out into laughter. The sound blends into the song of the birds and the sway of the trees. You feel a spark of joy perk up in your chest.

“I’ll fuck you to sleep.”

Oh.

He said it so casually that you feel hot all over. You glimpse at Yoongi, though his face utters no words of emotion. Eyes fixed at a point on the hardwood floors, hands in his pockets, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. Did he not say he was excited to watch you get fucked? Have you made a mistake?

You rake a hand through your hair, exhausted of your questions and doubt.

Jungkook leads you back down to the main floor, but Yoongi stays behind. Wants to take a shower before lunch. Nervousness nips at your fingertips at the thought of being alone with his friend, but you nod anyways, having no other choice.

You watch the swing of his body as he goes down the stairs, little wisps of hair bouncing on the back of his head that you find immensely endearing. They’re like some floppy ears of a puppy to you. Your breasts bounce as well with each skip down and you become aware of how full they are in your low neckline as with each movement your bare, pebbled nipples graze against its fabric, stimulating you, sending a familiar ache down to your intimate parts beneath the ruffles of your skirt.

You need to be very careful from this moment on upon this dangerous territory.

“I want to show you something,” Jungkook says, walking towards the balcony. He doesn’t look back at you, he just expects that you’re following him blindly and something about that overwhelms you peculiarly. You want to slap yourself for getting aroused so quickly—you just got here.

He extends his arms along the railing and you saunter to his side, taking a peek above his shoulder but failing, miserably. All you face is the hard wall of his muscles, even when you lift yourself on your tippy toes and it makes you huff out a frustrated breath against the material of his T-shirt, despite the fact his tall form dampens your cunt—

Is it your ovulation day? Fuck, you make a mental note to check that later.

Jungkook turns his head to look at you and chuckles. Grabs the back of your neck to push you closer to the railing and you fear your eyes will pop out of their sockets due to the way you widen them. The second body part he touched—one of many. You hope, you pray he keeps his hand there but he withdraws as soon as your fingers wrap around the wood of the railing. You narrow your lips in a tight line.

He points to what he wanted to show you. You try your hardest to not notice the details of his tattooed hand, to ignore the silver ring around that index finger of his and the ghost of his touch on the nape of your neck. You close your eyes for a heartbeat to regain your composure before they catch the view he’s pointing to.

A pond. A clear body of water under a thick weeping willow that wets its petals in the freshness of it. Your mouth parts. You sense his gaze on you, but you can’t reciprocate it. Not when such a lovely view like this lulls your soul, permeates it with the pleasure of beauty.

“Can we get closer?” you ask, mesmerized completely.

Jungkook grabs your elbow. Another body part. He drags you to another set of stairs. And you realize that the balcony is a veranda of some sort. The feeling of grass under your bare feet is exhilarating and, like a child, you begin to run to the pond, your skirt furling around you, exposing a sliver of your bottom. Jungkook lets you. Walks sluggishly with his hands in his pockets, watching you—smirking at that piece of skin he got to see.

You crouch to touch the stillness of the water, your fingertips reflected upon it. The coldness, despite the steaming sunlight, is so refreshing and you long to take a dip, to fill your hot body with the briskness it so evidently needs.

Standing upright, you twist to yap about how beautiful the scenery is—but Jungkook pushes you into the water.

You were so wrong. So very wrong.

Your feverish body didn’t need the coolness of the pond to dull your arousal because when you come up for air and your little outfit sticks to you body, your heartbeat picks up its speed, thumping in tandem with your clit. Jungkook wipes his smirking mouth at the sight of you and you’ve convinced that’s your undoing.

Nipples stiffened through your little top. Skirt shrunken. Skin wet and glossy. You run your palms through your hair, squeezing water out of your strands, feeling sensual, confident and so fucking playful. You smirk right back at him when you wade your way to him. Pull your shoulders back, tits on full show for him, when you lift your leg onto the grass.

And you stalk him down. You thought he’d move but he stays put. Those hands still in his pockets, those eyes zeroing down on yours—now different, now much smaller. Darker. Willing you to come after him.

“Prick.” You screw up your face at him, your chest tightening, an inch away from his.

Jungkook releases a breath. Grins smugly, briefly, swiping his tongue down the side of his inner cheek, as if he liked the fact you called him something like that. His irises drift down to your tits unabashedly and you swear you can see his hands twitching—

“You look pretty like this,” he murmurs, irises back on yours, twinkling, dilated. “Wet.”

You blush. Ache to be touched. Think about Yoongi and whether he’s finished with his shower because you need to be attended to. Taken to a safe place where the pleasure of his words and energy can unfold, where you can enjoy it. But Jungkook hypnotizes you again—and you don’t know how he does it, how he manages to draw your body close to his without hands. You hate him for it.

“Prick,” you repeat, more to yourself than him, drops of water trickling down every perimeter of your skin.

Jungkook cups your chin, raising it to his level. “And what else?”

You dart out your tongue and wet your mouth— slowly around the arc of your top lip to tease him. Then, you narrow your eyes even more at him. “Asshole.”

Affectionately, he titters, influenced by your actions so much that you catch flecks of drunkenness in his features. It makes you feel so brilliant that you beam up at him and once his laughter softens, he reciprocates the grin. Like you and Yoongi had, but in a different way.

The swish of the willow tree. A teetering bird. Jungkook fondles your glowy cheek.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

Your breath lodges in your throat but you push against it. Want to speak up. “I couldn’t.”

He frowns. “But did you want to?”

You nod. The question causes you to blossom, shed the last of thorns left in your body from the attachment. He’s the only person you could say this to and naively you trust that he won’t peep a word to Yoongi. A relief bolts through you that you put yourself first and spoke your truth for the first time in your life. You understand the reason why Yoongi isn’t comfortable with that practice and you promised him you wouldn’t do it. Intending to keep your word, it doesn’t change your opinion, however. Your opinion being that there’s nothing wrong with letting him see this part of your sex life.

It could be reversed. Jungkook being the one who watches.

He wraps his fingers back around your chin, hovers his thumb an inch away from your lips, as if he’s fighting himself from touching them. “Tell me with your words.”

A question that makes the time stand still. Do you listen or misbehave?

The decision is fast.

You press up your body against his. Jungkook sucks in a breath at the sensation of your stiffened nubs beneath his pecs, the water of the pond soaking through his T-shirt, marking your tits on him. You interlock your hands behind your back and Jungkook withdraws his hand. Surprises you when he lets it roam down your arm until he finds your clasped wrist.

He’s waiting for your answer. You know he is. And you want to gratify the puppy.

“I did want to rub my clit for you,” you breathe out and the hotness of his exhale envelopes you in a heat, even more so when his other hand grips your wrist and nuzzles you even further into the shadow of his body.

Hard length against your tummy. The roundness of his nose nudging against yours. It’s too much, way too fucking much and you mewl—to which Jungkook immediately responds, approves of the sound, of your neediness and presses you closer to him, your tits squished against him.

Lips above your ear, he whispers, “would you have called me or would you have let me see?”

He takes both of your wrists into his fist and his other hand goes to your wet hair, smoothing down the strands. You find the gesture calming, calming enough for you to say, “let you see.”

You inhale his scent—wood, vanilla and fabric softener. The fragrance of gentleness.

“Hm, would you have fingered yourself for me?” Jungkook continues, pulling your hair so you look at him. No hint of darkness in his eyes, but tenderness—a healing kind of tenderness that makes you give yourself over to him.

“Yes. More than once.”

Jungkook grunts. Turns you around and flips your skirt to see if you’re wearing any panties. Is met with the bareness of your behind as your choice of underwear for the day is a white thong. Optical illusion.

A quick heartbeat. Dry throat.

He straightens you and presses you back against him—this time from behind. Lips to ear, the same one. You feel the shape of him on your palms. Thick. Big. You roll your eyes back. “On the count of three, you run and hide. If I find you, you get fifteen spanks for wearing panties when I specifically told you not to.” His breathing turns ragged, in sync with yours, the thought of punishing you turning him on.

“What happens if you can’t find me?” You squeeze his full balls and you hear that grunt again, vibrating through you.

“You don’t wanna know. Did you forget I have toys?”

With that, he pushes you and you gaze back at him with horror—a lustful horror that blazes you. What kind of toys does he have? You want to find out, badly enough that you don’t mind misbehaving.

Jungkook begins to count.

You don’t wait until you hear the number three before you run for your life.

Inside the cabin, near the balcony, you bump into Yoongi’s naked chest. And you don’t have time to react before Yoongi scowls down at you, ridding you of any sounds of shock that desire to pour out of you.

“Why the fuck are you wet?” he asks, bracing you with both hands, skimming a glance upon the sight of you.

You panic. “Yoongi, I—”

A creak on the hardwood floors behind you. You round your brows. Will you ever make a decision on your own? Your fate was, again, picked for you. By Yoongi, by Jungkook—who didn’t give you enough time to hide.

Even a tendril of disappointment doesn’t have time to perforate your being because you sense another hand on the ruffle of your dripping skirt.

“Tell me why you didn’t take the second to make sure she was bare for me? You don’t check her holes?”

A deep, indignant murmur. Not expressed towards you, but towards your boyfriend. Yoongi’s scowl deepens, but you smile through your shock—the sun leaking through the clouds—and you sneak a finger along the definition of his abdomen that tenses under your touch. A conveyance that it has begun—that he should play along. You nod your head even, shortly, letting him know it’s okay.

Yoongi relaxes. Drifts his hands to your palms, holds them. Flicks his eyes to Jungkook above your head. Swallows. “She’s a brat that has a mind of her own,” he says and perhaps he’s right. Now you get to be one, at last. “She didn’t even pack her robe. Did she tell you that?”

You freeze. Jungkook fists your skirt.

Lips back to your ear. Heat radiating. You hope Yoongi didn’t see the marks of your breasts on his T-shirt. “Is that right?”

Vigor courses through you. You get to be a brat. And the possibility makes you feel infinitely alive.

“Yes,” you giggle, and when Yoongi gives you an endearing smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, you find that safe place you were searching for, that you needed. “I figured I should be naked for the occasion.”

Jungkook scoffs. “And yet you disobeyed me. Do you even use your brain or are you just that horny?”

Your lashes quiver at that, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, feeling stupid, although you know the reason behind your defiance.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for your response. He pushes you towards Yoongi until you collide into his chest. If your panties weren’t drenched from the pond, his manhandling would’ve taken care of that already. “Turn her around and strip her.”

You panic. Fear that Yoongi will see your tits on his T-shirt. Noticing your emotions, Jungkook understands. Pinches the back of his shirt and flings it on the back of the couch. Broad shoulders, big pecs, deeply defined abdominal muscles and the lines of his V leading into his intimate parts. No happy trail. Jungkook smiles at your relief. Your body flutters.

Yoongi’s hands grasp the hem of your soaked top and swiftly pull it over your head, making your full breasts bounce from the impact. He can’t help but knead them, face nuzzling into the crook of your forest-scented neck to pepper kisses there, and you catch the protest in Jungkook’s eyes—only to watch it dwindle away with the slow realization that he can’t tell your boyfriend not to touch you.

It makes you whimper. And the licks of Yoongi’s tongue and harsh kisses merely heighten that sound.

He continues as his hands find the waistband of your skirt and drag it down your hips until it plops onto the floor. And to fully present you to him at last, he hooks his thumbs under your thong—at which Jungkook shakes his head, disapproving. Walking towards you, he kneels before you and Yoongi blows on the traces of saliva he left on the side of your neck. Shivers, ones that Jungkook smooths down on your thighs to calm you down before he rips your panties in one motion.

If Yoongi wasn’t holding you, you’d fall to the floor—your legs boneless, jelly.

Like a leaf out in the forest, your ruined thong plummets to your feet. Jungkook lifts your ankle, helping you step out of it. Throws the scrap on top of his T-shirt, perhaps as a keepsake.

He doesn’t rise. Gazes upon your cunt, instead. Upon the glistening of your folds and lips, the swollenness of your clit. You part your legs wider for him. In appreciation, he looks up at you and strokes the back of your knee. Pupils dilated, the black swallowing the brown. And when Yoongi presses his length against you, pinches your nipples and you roll your eyes back, your attention stolen, Jungkook rises to his feet.

Licks his fingers and places them on your clit, starting a speedy series of circles—and you can’t catch your breath. Not when Yoongi rolls your nipples under his digits, not when Jungkook narrows his eyes at you and commands, “apologize.”

The pleasure overwhelms you so fast and you can’t speak. Can’t for the life of you remember how to apologize and what for, especially not when you grind your ass against Yoongi’s length and he grunts into your ear, not when you’re aware of the quickening of Jungkook’s breath.

Briefly, Jungkook speeds up his pace before he plunges the same wet digits into your hole. Doesn’t let you adjust, but instead keeps filling you to the brim. Then, with the same rapidness, he fucks you.

And you can’t stop yourself from coming and drenching his hand. The second fastest orgasm of your life. Your drops of essence are added to the pile of chunks of dry mud, grass and the pond water dripping from your hair on the floor.

Jungkook withdraws, completely. And you feel cold without his heat, without his closeness. “Why did you come?”

Yoongi begins to focus on your earlobe and you perceive the smug, proud smirk on his mouth. You don’t know what to say—beyond overwhelmed, beyond fucked out. All you know is that you don’t have enough, that you need more, that you hated how quickly your orgasm came upon you.

Jungkook takes Yoongi’s hands gently and rearranges them. The right one on your cunt, the left one on your jawline. To your surprise, he lets him. Something about that coaxes a string of your wetness to trickle down your thigh.

Yoongi’s hold on your chin is rough, causing a litany of soft mewls to spill out of your mouth as you wait for the next move. Needy, horny. And your mewls turn into loud moans that waft out into the forest when Jungkook grips your tits, pushes them together and licks against both of your nipples, your whole body fluttering, trembling, weak and stimulated. Yoongi begins to rub your clit and Jungkook catches you go cross-eyed, stifling his chuckle, but smiling at you regardless.

Drawing close to you until your bare, wet nipples come into contact with his skin, he glimpses at your mouth once before boring his eyes into yours. “Apologize,” he says lowly. “Apologize for wearing panties.”

Yoongi squeezes your cheeks, puckering your mouth, despite the fact this is something you only do together. Then, Jungkook tilts his head to the side and kisses you softly, owning you entirely. The puffy tenderness of his mouth, the gentleness which he pressed that kiss with—Yoongi squeezes your cheeks even harder, opening your jaw, giving Jungkook the green light to use his tongue and you’re gone.

You’re gone when Jungkook swipes his tongue on top of yours. Gone when he toys with it, swirls around it for a moment before closing his lips around yours, kissing you deeply—the smacking sound so loud in your ears, so delicious that you moan, losing your strength to stand and sagging a little bit in Yoongi’s arms.

“Fuck,” you utter once he lets you breathe and even through the hypnosis, the hot flashes signaling the upcoming of your second orgasm and the blurriness of your vision, you can see how much that kiss affected him.

Softening glossy eyes, features loosening—smirk wiped clean, unbelief, wooziness and arousal in its place instead. Mouth parted, puffy, shiny with saliva. A beautiful, extraordinary sight.

“She can’t apologize, but she can swear,” Jungkook comments, but it doesn’t reflect the turmoil happening on the inside of him. And it doesn’t explain what he does next.

He kisses you again. More gently than before. A slight whirl of tongue around yours before he closes his lips against you all over again. Although this time, he doesn’t stop. He pinches your nipples with his fingers, over and over, while moving his mouth against yours, a slow ripple of the pond behind you if there ever was one. And you feel the heat, the sweat coating your body and you feel Jungkook feeling you come. You don’t have to make a sound. He knows.

Your orgasm is a deep current moving through you. Like that kiss. You lose yourself in it, eyes rolled back into darkness, fluttering to and fro—from light to dark—and when you resurface, you find Jungkook’s cavernous, enthralled gaze fixed on you, fixed on the forging process of your orgasm taking roots in you.

Yoongi lets you drop to the floor, breathless. Jungkook shoots him a dirty look, but you reach for the button of his pants, not caring. He stops you with a gentle grasp of your wrist. Bends to your level.

“You’re not sucking dick. Not mine, not his,” Jungkook snarls, helping you stand to your feet. Hooks an arm under your knees and back and lifts you into his arms—carries you upstairs, without any other words spared.

He sets you on the bed. Gently cleans your feet with a wet cloth and when he’s done, he takes a seat on the white rocking chair across from you. Palms his length briefly before he manspreads, propping his elbows on his thighs like he did at dinner. Once Yoongi arrives, he pats your head and caresses your hair, an apology for letting you fall. You’re on the verge of tears.

Jungkook doesn’t even look at him. “Fifteen spanks from him for wearing panties. Fifteen more from me for not apologizing. To me.”

Yoongi never spanked you. You recognize it’s as much of a punishment for him as it is for you. They haven’t been friends for a day. Jungkook must be very well aware of Yoongi’s disliking of any impact play. He might like to make you cry during sex, but he never uses violence to do so. He uses his words, his dominance and his length.

Jungkook is teaching him a lesson for letting you drop to the floor. And it coaxes an onrush of foreign emotions to swarm within you. You’re touched. Deeply, deeply touched.

So much that you don’t take in the fact you’re getting spanked thirty times.

Yoongi scowls and you’re sick of seeing it. Getting on your knees, you wait for him to sit down. He remains standing.

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Sit down, hyung.”

Power play. He has no business ordering him around and calling him hyung while at it. Has no business to be in control when he’s the bull. Your essence sticks to your thighs.

“I’m not spanking her,” Yoongi mutters. “Do it yourself.”

Jungkook leans back, a finger to his temple. Darkness soaks him in heat and he shines, dimly. “You allowed it to happen, so you punish her. For me.” In other words: You dropped her, so you’re getting punished.

Yoongi has no other choice. You can see the defeat wrung into his face and he doesn’t look at his friend as he sits down. You do.

And the look you share should mangle your heart, but it doesn’t. You should feel bad that you’re on his side and not on Yoongi’s, but you don’t.

Purposefully, you angle your pussy so Jungkook has a perfect view of her as you crawl on Yoongi’s lap. One leg on the mattress, the other in the middle of his thighs—

“Lie down,” Jungkook orders and you listen, immediately, plopping down on Yoongi’s lap, making him gasp.

Yoongi cages you in. Pushes you farther towards his back, but you fight against it. You want to look at Jungkook when you’re getting spanked by your boyfriend for the first time, and so you twist your torso to the side. Just in time to catch a sunray penetrating his aura of darkness, enkindling him softly.

With his hand wrapped around his still clothed cock, Jungkook nods at Yoongi. You didn’t even realize he was waiting for his signal. Your pussy drools. Jungkook squeezes his girth in response.

The first spank is tender. And so is the second and the third. Jungkook sighs, rubbing his temple, but he doesn’t say anything. Not yet.

Fourth and fifth—it gains a small amount of intensity, barely. Sixth and seventh, he rubs both of your cheeks as if it hurt, when in reality it was a caress to you.

Jungkook slowly blinks at you, telling you to be patient through that gesture.

Because it’s the tenth one that makes you gasp. The prickling pain coursing through your body, pooling at your core—your core that shows him how much you liked that sharp spank. Jungkook smiles, proven right.

Yoongi’s breath shakes. His cock twitches against your stomach.

“Harder,” Jungkook mutters, his own breath quick, eyes never leaving yours. “For the last five. And faster.”

Yoongi obeys. Your moans grow in volume with each spank, your bottom painted in faint red. Yoongi quickly pulls you up to face him, brushing your hair away from your face.

“You liked that?” he asks in disbelief, eyes flicking between yours, looking for any hint of discomfort.

You nod. “I need—” Him, you don’t say. You can’t.

The rocking chair creaks. Jungkook walks towards you. You twist your body again to meet him halfway and he caresses your cheek, rewarding you. You go to turn your body wholly, but Jungkook stops you, holding you steady by the waist. While you still straddle Yoongi, knees on either side of his thigh, he gently prompts you to lift up your bum against him, arching your back, tits in Yoongi’s face.

“Stay like this,” he whispers into the waterfall of your hair and as you rub your cheeks against his manhood slowly, he hums, pressing a deep kiss onto your scalp. “Hold onto his shoulders.”

You do as he says. As if Yoongi knows something you don’t, he latches his hands onto the back of your knees, clamping you down on the mattress.

The first spank causes you to squeeze your eyes shut, pain so acute striking your body like flashes of lightning. And unlike Yoongi, Jungkook doesn’t stop. He keeps spanking you, each hit harder and more painful than the one before and you lose count of how many you’ve taken. You grip Yoongi’s good shoulder with all your might, wrapping your other hand around his neck.

You like the pain. You like the pain so much that you stay still. And because of that, Jungkook tilts your chin so you can look at him, coming to your side and propping a knee on the mattress. You see amusement and amazement swimming in his eyes when you finally open yours, dazed. He smiles at you, softly and tenderly. And you pucker your lips at him, asking for a kiss.

Jungkook willingly obliges. Gives you a deep peck full of meaning that you don’t know the language of yet—and it sinks down your body, makes a bed there. The coldness of his lip ring turns you whiny. Jungkook kisses you over and over again, just to hear your sounds.

Yoongi is red when you glance down at him. He’s at loss for words and there’s a puzzling look to his face that you don’t want to decipher.

“Five more,” Jungkook whispers, tracing the outline of your abused, sensitive ass. “Can you handle five more? You’ve taken it so well so far.”

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and the fact you asked for it makes both of the males still. Jungkook sneaks a hand between your legs and circles your hole, gathering your arousal, teasing you, finding you wetter than before.

Yoongi begins to suck on your nipples. And when Jungkook finishes his punishment faster than you anticipated or even noticed, your bum burning, you could come like this—but you don’t. Jungkook sticks his tongue down your throat, does what Yoongi does on your nipple and you begin to tremble, making a mess on Yoongi’s thigh.

As if pitying the abuse, Jungkook kneels before you and peppers gentle, wet kisses on the red flecks of your disobedience, making it right, healing it. Careful with his lip ring, careful not to suck on the skin.

Then, he places a singular kiss on your clit, making you shiver. Stands to his feet. Walks over to his dresser. “Both of you lean back against the headboard. You against his chest. Keep her legs open, hyung.”

You hiss at the change of positions, your cheeks hurting, even when Yoongi places a pillow underneath your butt. It worries him, your expression of pain and he tries to alleviate it by kissing you. There’s so much difference to the way he does it that it makes you emotional, drags you deeper into the madness of your hypnosis.

“You enjoyed that?” Yoongi asks, knuckles brushing against the side of your face, as if he truly can’t believe you enjoyed the inflicting of pain.

And you’d want it again, if your skin wasn’t so sore.

“I loved it, Yoongi.”

Shock flares in his eyes and you look away.

Jungkook crawls upon the bed with a pink toy in his hand. A small egg with a small gap in the top half. You smile at him, excitement surging in you, and he reciprocates it. Lifts your leg to your shoulder and Yoongi holds it in place.

“Butt hurts?” Jungkook asks, noticing the pillow, and you nod. “Good.”

You laugh, softly.

Placing a hand on your mound, covering it entirely, he brushes his thumb across your cunt, checking your arousal, spreading it on your clit. Doesn’t think there’s enough, which you find ridiculous, and he spits on her, making you moan. Turns the toy on.

“Spit on her again,” you command, grinding your hips, feeling the trail go down to your hole.

Jungkook smirks at you. “Filthy girl.”

Bends to your cunt and spits at her again, tongue darting out to lightly keep the liquid love, where he wants it to be. And you mewl, welcoming his tongue on your clit, and you yearn for more, lifting your pelvis even though it hurts, but Jungkook withdraws. Places the toy on it, thumb clicking on the intensity, rising it, rising it high so much that you widen your eyes—

It sucks on your clit.

You cry out, pleasure seizing you in its grasp and all you can do is close your eyes and feel it. It paralyzes you, takes your breath and—

“Look at me.”

You can’t.

“I know it feels good, but I’m not letting you have it until you look at me.”

He takes the toy away. You grip his tattooed arm, opening your eyes.

“Please, Jungkook—”

He doesn’t listen to your plea. Lifts your other leg. Doesn’t give it to Yoongi—keeps his hand there, nice and firm. Begins to concentrate on the back of your thigh, leaving behind wet marks of red and purple, tongue sliding on the skin before he sucks on it, keeping his eyes on you as he does it. You grab a hold of his hair. Soft, so silkily soft, short and healthy. You imagine the tiny petals on the weeping willow outside have the same softness.

You’re spellbound. Jungkook places the toy back on your clit, pleasure flooding you—now more fervent and extreme, with his puffy lips still sucking your skin in tandem. And hearing your moans, Jungkook fires them back at you, setting your body ablaze.

“That’s it. Keep looking at me,” he husks and Yoongi squeezes your other thigh, kissing your hair, reminding you he’s here with you. But he’s not the one who moans along with you. It’s Jungkook. Your eyes lid, but you try your hardest to keep them open, your feverish body swaying, the nearness of your orgasm at hand. “Yes, like that. I’m gonna make you come for me.”

Letting go of your thigh, he sinks the two of his fingers inside your heat, gasping along with you. Stuffing you to the brim like he did before, he doesn’t have to fuck you fast to bring you over the edge. He moves the toy from side to side—and it’s the feeling of fullness, the twist of his features as if he was the one pleasured that makes you come all over his hand, the pillow and the bedding.

It’s like being submerged under the water of the pond and you keep your eyes open the entire time, the endearment on his face and his attentiveness taking care of you, watching over you as he talks you through your orgasm.

“Don’t hold back for me, yes, take it, baby. Good, so good, I know,” he says it in such undertones that you sob, emotions rushing out along with your release, trickling out of your tear ducts. You feel so safe and so well taken care of, so content that you don’t shy away from your feelings. You let both males be witnesses to it.

It’s Jungkook first, who reacts. Brows knitted, he wipes your tears away. And it’s him who decides to take a break.

“Let’s eat lunch.”

Your focus is enveloped around him so tightly that you don’t even know how your boyfriend reacted to your tears. You don’t feel him when he lets go of your leg and stands up to his feet to dress. It’s Jungkook who cleans you and checks the redness of your ass if there are any bruises.

Yoongi doesn’t wait for you as he goes down the stairs.

And it’s you who feels defeated now. And when Jungkook looks at you, he knows.

BACK to masterlist / READ part one

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot #yoongi smut #yoongi x oc #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine

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nyyrami · 23 days

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𐔌 𓏲 SHE WENT TO HEAVEN AND BACK

𓂅 synopsis. scenarios in which the boys kiss you, their dearest.

𓂅 tags. satoru gojo x reader, suguru geto x reader, nanami kento x reader. fluff. suggestive themes. making out. groping. touching duh. implied intercourse. pet names ( baby, love, angel, wifey ). fem anatomy. marriage. 16 plus?

𓂅 a/n. chase atlantic >>> does the title even correlate with the writing? idk. lwky not even that suggestive other than kissing. not proofread.

SATORU GOJO ⋆˚࿔. clingy and always wants more.

satoru cant keep his hands off you. wether your at jujutsu tech, just doing you work. a slim hand would always either be resting on your thigh or wrapping you in a hug. satoru’s clingy. everyone knows it. from him just following you around. to clinging to you in the comfort of your home, he shows his love in physical touch. but when his touches are always with unchaste thoughts of you…

‘‘’toru— dont you have like, a class to teach?’’

this was the 3rd time this week that satoru had purposely been skipping his lessons with his class to stay in your office. now he was sitting on your chair, sucking on a lollipop.

that did hide the very big smile on his face. ‘‘huh? Don’t you want to spend time with your husband sweet cheeks?’’ he gripped the fabric of his shirt, directly above his heart in a feigned motion of a heart attack.

you rolled your eyes, smiling at his little antics. you did like him staying with you while you worked. but he had a job and you don’t know how much principal yaga would tolerate.

‘‘honestly though, yaga is going to lose his head when he finds out your here, again.’’ you spoke, now looking through the countless papers on your desk. you would need to find some time to properly go through all of them—

‘‘well, how can he blame me when I have a beauty for a wife?’’

you turn to look at him, a deep blush coating your cheeks. even after all these years of marriage between you, his flirty comments still made you blush like a high school girl.

‘‘satoru!’’

long, slim fingers hooked around his blindfold and pulled it down till it was hanging off his neck. blue eyes on display, you could practically feel his laughter at your expression.

‘‘whatttt? cant i love my wifey?’’

it took two long strides for him to meet you. two. and another two second for his hands to be cupping your face before he leaned in to kiss you.

his lips were soft and tasted like strawberries and instinctively you leaned in further for more. hands wrapping around his neck you pulled him closer to you. hands running through his hair.

satorus hands traveled from the small of your back to rest on the sides of your thighs. pulling you even further into him till your breasts were plush against his chest. it sent him wild.

‘‘’toru—!’’

you pull away, face flushed and skin hot. you’d almost forgotten you were in a school, and an office. anyone could walk in on you guys doing…

blue eyes trained on your flustered expression. ‘‘c’mon, baby. no one’s going to—’’ you stand back and out of his arms.

‘‘satoru you have a class to teach, go.’’

‘‘nooo, it’s fine. they can take care of themselves—’’ you were grabbing him by the arm and attempting to push him out the door, to no avail. as much as satoru looked thin, he was a muscular man underneath his uniform.

‘‘babyyyyy cant I stay a few more minutes—’’

‘‘no!’’

‘‘two minutes—!’’

unbeknownst to him, you’d managed to shove him far enough to the point where he’d crossed the threshold of the door. at your amused silence, he raised an eyebrow.

‘‘what’s so funny, eh?’’

you shut the door in his face. that clearly didn’t stop him though for you could hear his wallowing outside. him begging for you to open the door before it turned to harmless threats of eating your food before you got home. you smiled. returning back to your desk to carry on with your work. you didn’t notice it before but now you did. on your desk was a clear plastic bag full of strawberry lollipops.

NANAMI KENTO ⋆˚࿔. loving yet always working.

kento knew he was a workaholic. he spent hours going over meetings he’d been through and doing— you didn’t know. but when he’s in the comfort of your home and he’s still working and not paying attention to you. you find some way to get him to abandon his work.

this was the third time of you walking into his study and telling him to leave his work. yes, you knew it was jarring. yes, you knew it was annoying but how else would you get your husband to pay attention to you?

‘‘kentoooo, dear. why don’t you take a break?’’

you stood behind him, hands massaging his scalp. by the way you were going, he was almost inclined to ditch his work but taking another look at the computer eradicated the thought.

‘‘cmon dear, atleast eat some food.’’

‘‘im fine, thank you love.’’

ever the stubborn man he was, he refused your subtle invitations. he knew what you wanted. you wanted him to come with you and relax. maybe watch a movie or two. and he really did want to do that, but his work was—

kento snapped out of his daze when he felt you sit on his lap. lgs on either side of his, you were practically trapping him onto the chair but he wasn’t complaining.

‘‘love—?’'

‘‘your practically married to your wok, kento.’’

you assaulted him with kisses, your lips soft and featherlight. you gripped his chin, looking him in the eye once before leaning in. instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist, hand resting on the small of your back like the gentlemen he was.

for a few minutes, you didn’t break the contact. had you known this was the easiest way to get him to pay attention to you, you would’ve done it a long time ago.

pulling back, he gave a smile. his lips now puffy and red, clear evidence of your doings.

‘‘if you wanted me to kiss you, you could’ve just spoke up, love.’’

you blushed furiously, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. you have him a small pout. kento wasted no time before standing up, holding you up with him fluidly before walking towards your shared rooms.

‘‘ill show you who im married to.’’

SUGURU GETO ⋆˚࿔. touchy and very hands on.

suguru saw everything. to your quick glances or to even your slight movements where you’d move closer to him. you didn’t seem to realise you did that but he always noticed. it made him smile when he thought about it. today was one of those days but he couldn’t figure out what you wanted…

suguru was watching you. unabashedly. he was noting your movements as you walked around the room, looking through draws for something he doubted existed.

you knew he was watching you. you could practically feel his dark eyes watching your back. you didn’t know wether to turn to him.

‘‘angel, come here.’’

suguru spoke, arms now outstretched, an invitation you didn’t know you needed. he lay under the covers, practically naked and his long, dark hair was a mess. a telling of your previous activities.

you blushed when you remembered your earlier behaviour. you slid onto the bed, diving under the duvets you were greeted by his arms immediately.

hiding your face in the crook of his neck, you could practically feel the smile radiating off him. ‘‘what has you in such a twist, angel?’’

‘‘m’ nothing.’’ your voice muffled against him as you press yourself closer.

suguru knows only one way of getting whatever your thinking out of you. and so he does it. he leans down cupping your face, he leans for a kiss.

it’s hot and soft at the same time. fuelled with the desires of your love making, but soft at the same time, filled with adoration and love.

you don’t want to leave it. you know he doesn’t want to either as one of his hands crawl from your hips to rest on your behind gently pushing you further into him to the point you can feel everything.

when you break apart its hot and your panting for air. suguru only smiles, his pretty face never once leaving yours.

‘‘so, are you going to tell me?’’

you smile. ‘‘you just gave me what I wanted, love.’’ you fall back into him. this time with the intention of carrying it on further…

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #gojo x reader angst #gojo x reader #nanami kento x reader #gojo x you #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto smut #gojo satoru smut #nanami kento smut

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lucifermonsii · 4 months

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Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Top Male Reader

cw: bottom!ghost, smut, fingering.

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

It's been a few months after Y/N and Ghost broke up. Ghost has always been a difficult person, being cold and blunt towards his significant other. Having a thick barrier between them, the boundaries in the relationship was a lot. No bed sharing, No holding hands, No this no that.. But when they had sex it was different, Ghost loved the way Y/N pounded on him. Bullying his prostate over and over again with his large member inside of him, the way his gummy walls clutched onto the man's cock was a pleasure both Ghost and Y/N loved to experience. Y/N bringing Ghost heaven and back as he roughly thrusted into him in and out over and over again, the way Ghost's eyes were rolled back. Drool dripping out of the corner of the lieutenant's mouth down to his chin, his thighs trembling from pleasure.

But it was all over, due to Ghost's attitude towards the male they decided to part and broke up. Ghost had always been afraid of being in a gay relationship within the military work field, who would think that their cold and stern lieutenant would be gay? And a bottom!?

Ghost came into the common area after he finished his workout, doing his usual routine before Y/N and Soap came in and sat together. Having breakfast and talking, the sergeant making terrible dad jokes as Y/N simply smiles while eating his food. Sometimes slight giggling because he dosent want to choke on his food. Overall they were having a great time, But Ghost? He was watching everything. The way Soap would occasionally brush his finger's against Y/N's thighs for shits and giggles, of course the male really didint care much since Soap was his best buddy. Ghost on the other hand was staring at the whole interaction, gaze filled with jealousy and rage. But not enough for him to react. yet.

That was until Soap gripped onto Y/N thigh, thats when Ghost had enough. The lieutenant marched towards them before gripping onto Y/N's shoulder and dragged him away forcefully. "What the fuck?," Said Y/N as he stared at Ghost in disbelief and confusion, eventually being forced into a small confined room with the lieutenant. Door locked.

Y/N stared at him with his e/c eyes, confused. "Why did you have to drag me." Y/N said along with a raised eyebrow as he stared down at Ghost with his e/c eyes, Ghost in returned just stared up at the taller male. "Im sorry, for everything, for how i've been acting towards you when we were together." Said Ghost, for the first time he was being genuine which surprised the other male a bit.

A sigh escaped Y/N lips as his eyes darted back from Ghost to the door, "Sure, but that dosent explain to why you've dragged me here," said Y/N as he stares at Ghost with his head cocked to the side, arms crossed over his chest. "I need you." Ghost said as he stares up at him, eyes filled with need and lust as he uncomfortably shifted his thighs to hide his apparent bulge. Ghost managed to get a grin out of the male as he stared up at Y/N, "So this is your way of forgiving?" Y/N said, amused as he leaned towards Ghost, His breath hot against the lieutenant's.

With that being said Ghost lifted his balaclava till the bridge of his nose and pushed his lips against Y/N's. The other male returning back the kiss as his hands crept onto his waist, now firmly pressing Ghost to the wall. The kiss deepens as their tongues intwined, Y/N's hands caressing Ghost's side up and down. Eventually the kiss broke and the two breathed again, the thumb of Y/N's now beneath Ghost's shirt and slowly sliding it up. Ghost lets out a sigh as he leaned the back of his head against the wall, letting the other male take his shirt off — which he did willingly. He kissed Ghost again, his hand now against the shorter male's chest as his other hand was gripped onto his waist. Firm but not enough to leave a bruise.

The kiss broke before they got to the point. Y/N stripped the man and turned him around before shoving him against the wall, Y/N jerked him own, collecting pre-cum at his tip before using it as lube and teasing it at the rim of Ghost's entrance with his index finger. A whimper escaped Ghost's lips as he felt the sensation, the taller male's index finger now inside of Ghost. Finger fucking him slowly to stretch him before adding another finger and continuing to finger fuck him, his fingertips brushing against Ghost's prostate which caused the lieutenant to moan. Y/N continued to thrust his fingers in and out of him, small soft whimper and moans escaped Ghost's lips as Y/N's fingers shoved against his gummy walls.

Finally his fingers are retracted, leaving Ghost's hole wet and all prepped. Y/N inched himself into Ghost slowly with his large member, the tip of his cock now inside of Ghost made a grunt escaped the taller male's lips as Ghost's walls clenched around his tip. Eager he was he attempted to clench down on Y/N's cock, wanting to take him fully in — which Y/N complied to, shoving his large member into Ghost. His gummy walls tight and wet around the man's shaft, a grunt escaped his lips from how tight he was. He had to fight the urge to shove his cock all the way in, but refused to as he continued to inch himself further into Ghost.

After managing to shove his whole cock in, Ghost clenches around his member and moaned at the feeling. Y/N began to thrust into him, slowly before he picks up the pace. Ghost's hips in sync with his as the pace quickens, whimpers and moans escaped Ghost's lips as he grips onto Y/N's forearms. The man's grip on his hips now tightening as he thrusts harder and deeper into Ghost, wet slaps of skin against skin filled the room as he continued to thrust in and out of him which cause Ghost to be even more vocal. He covered his own mouth with the palm of his hand as he continued to whimper and moan, his lips quivered as drool began to pool out of the corner of his mouth. Eyes rolled back and face flushed from Y/N thrust so hard into him as his prostate was continuously bullied by him.

His breathing was hot and heavy from being pounded, Y/N's thrusts began to be sloppy as he was close to his climax. His pace quickens as the sound of wet slapping of skin against skin fastens, Ghost's aching cock now dripped with pre-cum from not getting attention. Ghost grabbed onto his shaft as he began to jerk himself off whilst the man behind him continued to thrust into him, sticky strings of white stains the wall from Ghost as Y/N reached his climax and came into him. Ghost felt full, the feeling of his warm seed inside of him was a lot to take in. To the point where there was a trail of his cum trailing down from his hole till his thigh, slowly dripping down. They both get a breather before Y/N pulled out his member, a wet 'plop' sound was made when he fully pulled himself out. He gripped onto Ghost's ass cheeks and stretched it apart, looking at the wet entrance of Ghost, how his cum leaks out and puffy it was from being ruined.

#call of duty modern warfare ii #ghost mw2 #x male reader #ghost simon riley #male reader #top male reader #cod mw x reader #dom male reader #simon ghost riley x male reader

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callmerainman · 1 month

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THE SMITHS | Adam x fem!angel!Reader

SECOND PART

plot. in which Adam, after bumping into you listening to music in the elevator, gives you unsolicited music recommendations.

tags. first meetings, Adam being Adam, flirting, concerts, music, getting to know each other, rockstar Adam (still takes place in canon).

taglist. @call-me-nyxx

a/n. Adam is my muse at this point, he's directing all my creative energy lmao. This came up to me as an idea last night, kinda different from my usual Adam content! Might do a part 2, we'll see about that, enjoy!

«Take me out tonight, where there's music and there's people who are young and alive»

The elevator doors slide close, the few heavenly beings have exited, leaving you alone inside the cubic space. Absentmindedly, your foot starts tapping on the floor. A faint melody can be heard from outside your earbuds, the volume of the music set on max. You bumped music in your ears every chance you got, including when you were on bureaucratic duty for the Seraphim's.

«Driving in your car, I never ever want to go home».

As the elevator stops at the upper floor, the doors slide open and reveal who called it. Immediately, you adjust your pose, clutching your paperwork against your chest with arms crossed. Adam, the First Man, just entered the elevator.

He's loudly sipping what seems to be a sugary beverage from a large cup, positioning himself next to you. You've seen him many times, from a distance. At meetings, where you worked as an assistant, walking around Heaven, on posters advertising his band, in court. But you never interacted, there was no reason to. He was one of the big heads of Heaven, while you just hoped that nobody would yell at you for not adding enough milk to their coffee. Of course, this is what makes you nervous. But when the doors close again, you take a deep breath and let the music envelope you again.

«And if a double decker bus, crashes into us»

You relax, forgetting that Adam is next to you. You just stare at the elevator doors, unbothered. You just let yourself get lost in the sad, indie rock tunes that paradoxically raised your spirits. That's until, with the corner of your eye, you see Adam turning towards you. He's saying something, but music muffles your hearing.

«Ihatethasmiths»

You remove one of your earbuds, and you turn around with a gentle, sweet smile.

«Mh? Sorry?» you ask, the corner of your lips curling upwards.

«I said I fuckin' hate The Smiths!».

Your smile fades out immediately, your eyes go wide and your eyebrows shoot upwards. Adam goes back to look straight in front of him.

«tO dIe By YoUr SIdE iS SucH a HeaVenLy wAY to DiE! Ugh, fuckin' hate 'em » he mocks.

Dumbfounded, you just stare at the First Man in shock. Your mouth is slightly open, and your earbud is still pressed between your thumb and index as you can still hear There Is a Light That Never Goes Out playing. Then, the elevator doors slide open with a ding! and Adam just exits, slurping loudly his drink as if nothing happened. You follow him with your gaze, still in shock. The doors start closing again.

«Holy shit» that's all you can say, before disappearing behind them.

—

Next week, you're still in the elevator, a cup of hot coffee in your hand and your earbuds religiously plugged in your ears. Today you're in a good mood. The Heaven Headquarters offices weren't too packed with work and you were rising to the highest floor of the palace to spend time with your co-workers. That's until the elevator stops and the First Man Adam comes in. Again. You stiffen, your wings twitch and, hoping to not be noticed, you roll your eyes. Now that you think about it, it's the same day and hour you two met last week. When he, not-so-kindly, expressed his disappointment in your music taste. Suddenly, you realize something else. That you're...

«You still listenin' to that crap?» Adam says, pointing a finger towards your earbuds.

You sigh, resigned. You're still listening to The Smiths. This time around you heard Adam loud and clear, but you turn the volume down anyways. And, not caring about being all dignified and reverential in front of him, you roll your eyes in front of him.

«Yeah, I'm still listening to The Smiths. Heaven knows I'm Miserable Now».

Adam, scoffing, symbolically brings two fingers towards his mask and pretends to throw up.

«The Smiths are the bane of rock, I swear! Who wants to listen to a man being all whiny about love, vegetarianism and shit. Rock 'n roll is something else, I tell you»

«I disagree on that»

How did you even end up in this situation? Discussing music in an elevator with the First Man on Earth, one of the most important authorities of Heaven. It's just unreal, so much that going on doesn't bother you that much.

«You're into rock music?» Adam asks, shaking his usual drink in his hand, ice making a crisp sound inside the cup.

«Safe to say yes» you say, a collected but confident smile on your face.

«Okay, okay» Adam smirks, mischievous «and who are you rocking out to?»

«Oasis» you reply.

«Ugh»

«Radiohead»

«Nahh»

«Arctic Monkeys»

«Ew»

«Joy Division»

«For fucks sake woman, are you gonna give me a real rock band or keep naming your emo fest-»

«Guns 'n Roses»

Adam's breath stops for a second. You stare at him with a challenging look. His LED eyes digitally burned on his mask squint.

«Okayy miss...?»

«(Y/N)»

«(Y/N). Name 3 Guns 'n Roses songs»

You raise a finger in front of him, your eyes wide in a sort of prohibitive look.

«Nuh uh, don't you try to pull that move on me, I'm not gonna name anything».

«Tch, as I thought» Adam says, before sipping on his cup of icy soda.

You emit an annoyed groan, before sipping on your coffee yourself. As you're about to press start again on your phone to replay the music and metaphorically cancel Adam's presence from the elevator, he speaks again.

«Listen, girlie, if you wanna listen to some real rock music you should, first of all, give up on that sentimental bullshit that people call rock nowadays. Second, you can start by coming to one of my concerts. I'm-»

«Adam, The First Man. I know who you are» you interrupt.

You move your weight from one leg to the other, as Adam playfully smirks at you.

«Of course you know who I am, you probably heard of me from my band»

«Actually, I work as an assistant for the Seraphims meetings» you say.

«Oh, nah I never noticed you. You sure you don't know me from my band? We're pretty sick»

It's not like you expected him to know you from meetings. You mostly worked behind closed doors, preparing paperwork and only handling it to Seraphims last minute. And Adam wasn't really a necessary presence at meetings. He was important, an authority holding a great power for sure, but you don't really understand of what kind.

«I heard that you got a band but sorry, Christian rock is not my genre» you reply, nonchalantly.

Adam jumps a little in surprise, an appalled sound escaping his lips.

«Oh no sweetie, you got it all wrong. Didn't you listen to me when I said that we're a real rock band? We sing about all things rock» he says, theatrically.

«For example?»

«Sex, drugs and bitches of course».

You let out an ironic chuckle, not thoroughly convinced.

«I heard your venues are like, really crowded. I don't know if I feel like tip-toeing all night long to see anything»

«You can always tell security that you're with me»

His statement surprises you, so much that you turn around with a frowned forehead. The scrunch in your face says it all about your uncertainty. Adam looks chill, confidently leaning on the elevator's mirror and looking at you. How long have you been riding this thing?

«You think they'll believe me? Not even in a 100 years»

«Listen sweet cheeks, I'll meet you at the queue between sound check and the start of the show and I'll directly tell em that you're with me».

«You want me to play groupie?»

«Aren't you already?» Adam grins with a wiggle of his eyebrows. A very shit-eating grin.

You let out a playful and sarcastic chuckle «No, but I accept your offer, Mr. Real Rockstar»

«More of a real rockstar than Morissey»

The elevator doors open, it feels like you've been there for an eternity but not necessarily in a bad way. It's Adam's floor, the one just beneath yours, and he waves at you goodbye with a hand.

«See you Saturday, you'll be my number one fan».

«You wish»

How was that one of the most annoying, yet weirdly entertaining conversations you ever had?

—

You've never been to an Adam's concert, because you never had the chance to get into his music even if he was really known all around Heaven. But it was true that his gigs were packed. The line is infinite, and the venue probably won't even be enough for all these people. Suddenly you start to regret your decision. Damn, you even dressed up for this! You nervously start shifting your weight from one side to the other of your body. Security is already telling some people to just go home because it's likely that tickets just ran out. One titanic of a bodyguard goes up to you, arms crossed.

«I'm sorry miss, but we're out of tickets»

«Oh it's fi-»

You can't finish the phrase, distracted by the feeling of a stranger arm wrapping around your shoulders. You straighten yourself, and turn around alarmed. Adam had appeared from behind a portal, which immediately closed behind him. All the people left in the queue turn around, shocked to see the frontman appear right there.

«Don't worry dude, she's with me» he says, confidently.

How can someone be such a loser and so charismatic at the same time? This is what you ask yourself while wrapped around Adam's arm. The security guard nods, and Adam opens the portal back with a snap of fingers. Soon, you find yourself in the front row. Did he just transport you there? Adam has already let go of your shoulders, standing behind the barrier. Fans in the front row start going crazy at the unexpected sight of the frontman. As they scream incoherent, adoring gibberish to him, Adam stays focused on you.

«I'm happy you're here. Trust me, your ears will thank me for blessing them with some real rock» he says, his playful smirk permanently printed on his mask.

You roll your eyes, but you're betrayed by your own smile «We'll see»

«Trust me, you won't be disappointed» Adam replied.

Then, he winks at you before turning around and heading towards the backstage.

When the concert is over, you can confidently say that no, you aren't disappointed. As much as you hate to admit it, Adam can get it. He knows how to play guitar, he's vocally a beast in every good sense possible, and he's a stage animal. He's an idiot for sure, an arrogant one, but he quite literally fucking rocks. It's the way he plays guitar solos, his finger picking technique flawless and effortless. And how he knew how to talk to the crowd, how to move on stage. And you also saw him for the first time without a mask. You didn't know what to expect, but you have no complaints whatsoever. Brown, messy hair, dark but charming circles under his eyes, a fierce grin on his face. You felt your stomach fluttering when he obviously looked at you during Stick It To The Man. As people are leaving the venue, you're about to do the same. Maybe you and Adam will talk about it on your next random encounter on the elevator. But, before you can turn around, you see a security guard gesturing you to come close. He opens the barrier for you, and, confused, you shuffle your way through it.

«Yeah?» you ask.

«Adam wants to see you» the bodyguard says, moving his head to invite you to follow him.

Your heart skips a beat. This is some groupie shit. But you don't mind. You follow the security guard to the backstage, hugging yourself slightly out of nervousness. Adam, who was talking to the drummer, immediately stops the conversation when he sees you approaching behind the security guard. A wide smile extends on his face.

«So, (Y/N)! Did you change your mind about The Smiths?» he asks, opening his arms.

You place your hands on your hips «No, but...you weren't half-bad»

«Not half-bad?» he says, almost offended.

You decide to give up the tough girl act «Okay, I'll admit it, you know how to rock. You were really good».

«HA! Told you! Ladies love my band and you're no exception. And THIS is real rock»

«I'll still bump the shit out of The Smiths next time we meet on the elevator» you protest with a smirk, crossing your arms on your chest.

Adam drags a hand between his messy hair «Instead of meeting in the elevator, me and the rest of the band are going to the after party. It's in a club near the venue. Why don't you come? I still have to recommend you some real music»

Oh this is bad. Adam's teasing smile, the way he got closer to you and is now staring down at you without a shade of awkwardness. And the fact that one of his skilled hands is now placed on your waist, again, without any form of hesitation. Is he hitting on you? You feel your face burning, pressing your lips together. Would accepting make you a groupie? And soon, you realize that you don't care.

«Okay, First Man, I'll come with you. But only if you don't ask me to name 3 songs of a band»

«Deal»

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #writers on tumblr #hazbin hotel fanfiction #adam x reader #adam x y/n #adam #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x you #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam fanfiction #adam hazbin hotel #first man adam #adam fanfiction #vivziepop

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hup123hup123slapslap · 3 months

Text

So a thought has been kicking around my head for a bit...what if Helio knew exactly what he was signing up for by making Kristen his chosen one?

It has always struck me as odd that when describing Doreen in Helioic heaven, Brennan mentioned her flirting with men and women. It also strikes me as odd that Kristen never got any pushback from Helio about turning her back on him. Even if he was similarly 'out of the picture' like sol was while Arthur was wrecking havoc, Kristen's powers should have faded when she fully committed to not worshipping him. You need to worship a god to get powers, and this is emphasized heavily in the latest episode. Kristen worshipping the vague idea of religion but Definitely Not Helio just doesn't cut it. Sure, taking away a PCs powers wasn't really in the cards in season one, but Brennan works very well and very caringly with what he has to establish as canon.

Kristen was looking for a reason to drop Helio from the get-go. His frat boy appearance and non-answer to a nearly impossible question didn't truly matter at the core of her feelings. She wanted an out from the prison she was trapped in with the Helioic faith, even if she didn't realize it fully. She had tension with her mom and her ideals from the scene one! She wanted to connect with people the church actively shunned. Helio was never the true problem.

Now, gods are shaped by their worshippers. So on some level Helio is shaped by people with shitty ideals. But there's still a foothold of good, especially if there are out and proud gays in heaven. Especially if Kristen Applebees of all people is the chosen one.

When you have worshippers misinterpreting your whole deal, going with Sol's shitty messaging and transferring it onto you and using it for bad things, what can you do as a god? Because you ARE what they say you are. So how can you fight back?

Well. You make your chosen one someone that embodies your true heart. Someone that can actually turn the tides of your worship.

There is an emphasis on tracker reinventing and revitalizing her religion. Changing it for the better. Taking the old and not tossing it out, but making it better.

Isn't that what Kristen struggles with the most? That's what she needs to learn how to do.

Tracker also established that she can worship multiple gods when she helped with Yes?. Kristen doesn't need to settle for one even if she (fingers crossed) brings Kassandra back.

Because the season opened with the slow apocalypse of endless night. Endless daytime would end similarly. There has to be a balance. They are two sides of the same coin. Day and night. The surety of the sun and the doubt of the shadows.

Kristen wants both. And she can fucking have it if she decides to.

Ally once said they appreciate that the enemy is always the church. Organized religion. Kristen is perfect for disorganized religion though. Chill frat boy vibes and anxious doubts and the ultimate message of 'just do your best'.

I think religious trauma is a compelling, close to the heart topic for a lot of people. And some turn away from religion entirely and wash their hands of it. But some people don't. Kristen is a cleric. She can't. She wants a god, she wants answers, and she just can't find them in the established community she was raised in. That doesn't mean the core of her religion was wrong. The church was. So you take the religion and you harness it in a way that means something to you.

Maybe Kristen being desperate enough to invite Helio back into her life is what this has all been leading to.

She can remake a god. She's done it before. Because Kassandra was good at the core. Maybe Helio can be too.

#dimension 20 #kristen applebees #junior year #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #i come from a religious upbringing and am very much not religious as a result #but dang people from a traumatic religious upbringing that maintain belief in the god but not the toxic teachings are very cool and valid

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eiightysixbaby · 10 months

Text

cruel summer

no rules in breakable heaven

word count: 6.7k

pairing: modern!fuckboy!eddie x fem!reader

summary: eddie is your summer fling, your friend with benefits - or at least, that’s all he’s supposed to be. what happens when your feelings get in the way?

cw: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI - SMUT. eddie is a fuckboy!! he acts like an ass in this, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, angst, hurt with no comfort (yet), alcohol consumption, use of pet names, reader cries, like a lot honestly, miscommunication/misunderstanding, use of Y/N, as always if I missed something feel free to lmk!

author’s note: this fic is, of course, based on the song cruel summer by miss taylor swift, so I highly recommend listening to that if you haven’t! part two will be in the works soon! no idea when it’ll be posted, but it is coming >:)

Your fingers dug into the soft material of the mattress, face smooshed against the cotton sheets. Your brain felt foggy, the alcohol in your system making your whole body buzz slightly. Your back arched almost involuntarily as Eddie’s hips snapped roughly into your aching heat, bringing you fully back into the moment. He was railing you relentlessly from behind, rough hands taking a firm hold on your hips, keeping them in place for him. If it didn’t feel so good you’d almost feel bad for fucking in a bed that didn’t belong to either of you, Eddie having pulled you into a spare room at Steve’s house, escaping the noise of the party for some alone time. This is how things went with the two of you as of late, the wild and free atmosphere of summer leaving you craving each other and crossing boundaries. He’d call you late at night or maybe you’d call him, asking the other to come over. Letting Eddie fuck you raw till your insides burned and your body was spent. Leaving his trailer at 2 in the morning with your mascara running and his cum dripping down your thighs, just to do the same thing all over again in a few days.

You knew Eddie got around, knew you weren’t the only girl he was hooking up with. But the way he’d look at you when you were riding him and the way he’d caress your face as he’d lean in to kiss you made you feel like you were the only one. Like you were his. His energy was intoxicating, the sex even better, and you couldn’t get enough of him. No matter how hard you tried, he kept pulling you back in for more. Another hard thrust into you brought you back out of your drunk haze, his cock pulling all the way out just to slam fully back in. Your pussy welcomed him, enveloped him in the warmth of your walls, never wanting to let him go.

“Shit, baby, this pussy loves me,” Eddie grunts. “Suckin, me right in, fuck.”

You bite down on your lip hard, stifling what would’ve been a rather loud moan. Eddie pulls out and flips you onto your back, pushing your thighs to your chest, folding you right in half for him. Your pussy is on perfect display for him, wide open and pleading for him to come back in. He moves his hips expertly, cock gliding into you with complete ease despite his size. Your moans are staggered as he fucks you at a brutal pace, your whole body bouncing on the mattress with every thrust.

“My favorite fuckin’ girl, such a slut for me. No one lets me fuck them like you do, baby, mmmmmfuck,”

Your head spins at the praise, his choice of words. His favorite girl. You can’t help but wonder how many other girls he calls his favorite, too. You shake the thoughts away promptly, trying to allow yourself to just enjoy this moment with him. Enjoy having him for as long as you can. His calloused fingers are pressed into the doughy skin of your thighs, gripping with such intensity it almost hurts. Before you can fully process it you’re cumming around him, walls tightening over and over in a staggered pattern.

“G’na cum inside this pussy, baby, shit,” Eddie grunts before finally letting go.

His release paints your insides, your tight cunt milking every bit out of him. He pulls out once he’s fully spent, smacking your ass for good measure. You hear him zipping up his jeans, his belt buckle clanking as he secures it. He grabs a few tissues from the bedside table, gingerly wiping you clean before tossing them in the wastebasket.

“You’re such a doll, you know that right?” he asks, bending down to give you a quick peck on the lips.

You give him a half hearted smile, but he doesn’t seem to notice there’s any sadness behind it. He cautiously opens the bedroom door, slinking out under the guise of “letting you get situated”. Just like that, the euphoria is over. Your moment with him is gone, and he’ll slink back to the hustle and bustle of the party, leaving you in the shadows. You didn’t want to fall so hard for Eddie when your whole charade started, you really just wanted a fuck buddy. It’s just that he’s so goddamn alluring, and he’s sweet when he wants to be. He makes you feel good in ways no other guy has been able to, and it’s like you get drunk on him. You’re tumbling head over heels for Eddie, and to him you’re just one of many notches on his belt.

You fix yourself up, tidying up your appearance before heading back down to the party. A song you don’t recognize blares over the speakers, colorful lights flashing in the otherwise dark house. You check your phone for any texts, reading one from Nancy asking where you went. You decide you really don’t feel like answering that right now, slinking into the kitchen for another drink and slipping your phone back into the pocket of your jeans. You pour yourself some of whatever inebriating mixture sits in the pitcher on the countertop, the bright blue liquid filling your red plastic cup. You sip the drink, probably quicker than you should, walking past groups of people - couples getting a little too friendly with each other, a shirtless guy you don’t know standing on a table, a few girls huddled together on a sofa taking selfies.

You walk out to the backyard, the noise of the party becoming too much. The night air is warm and it smells sweet, a bonfire lit in the fire pit on the opposite side of the backyard. The unmistakable scent of the burning wood clings to your nose as you glance up into the trees where fireflies blink slowly. Your thighs ache, and you swear you can feel Eddie’s cum still leaking out of you. Your stomach twists in knots at the thought of it, wishing he’d stayed to help you clean up, wishing he’d kiss you in front of everyone to lay claim on you, wishing he’d let you snuggle into him as you sat around the bonfire. Wishing so desperately that he’d make you his, the way your friends always joke that he should because they can always sense the tension between the two of you.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear a high pitched squeal and then a splash, looking up to see a girl’s head protruding from the water in the pool.

“Eddie!” she squeals, over exaggeratedly loud. “You got me all wet,” she pouts, “you’re gonna have to come in here with me.”

“No can do, sweets, can’t ruin the hair,” Eddie jokes, sitting down at the pool’s edge.

The unfamiliar girl pulls herself out of the water to sit beside him, reaching out and pretending to scrunch his hair with her wet fingers. Eddie laughs and leans away, grabbing her wrists with his much larger hands to stop her. She giggles as Eddie pulls her closer to him, slinking an arm around her waist. You feel like you could throw up, the skin of your cheeks heating up significantly. Eddie notices you standing up against the side of the house, meeting your eyes for only a moment before you turn and enter the large house once more. Your cup trembles in your hand, your stomach turning as you process the scene you just witnessed. He just fucked you raw upstairs, and already he’s got a new girl with him. He doesn’t even have the decency to wait until you’ve left, prick. You scowl, but the worst part is you know you can’t stay mad at him. You don’t actually think he’s a bad person, and you don’t know if you ever could. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes when you feel a delicate hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N? Hey, are you okay? Where have you been?”

“Nance - hey. Uh y-yeah I’m just… not feeling so well all of a sudden? I think I’d better get going-” you stammer, furiously wiping the wetness from your eyes.

Nancy’s eyes are no longer trained on you but instead are gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows of the sun room. You turn to follow her gaze, and see that she’s looking right at Eddie, who’s now in the pool with the giggly girl, kissing her with her arms around his neck.

She looks back at you, catching the way you nervously chew your bottom lip and also catching the hickey that was left on your neck.

“You say the word and I swear to god I’ll kill him,” Nancy says, getting the sentence out just as Jonathan comes up behind her.

He doesn’t even need to ask who she’s referring to, and you see his eyes flicker up to look out the windows, becoming another witness to Eddie’s bullshit. He frowns slightly before turning his attention to you.

“Hey, kid, you okay?” he asks, patting you on the back with one firm hand.

You try to open your mouth to speak, but you can’t bring words to come out. Your throat feels thick and your lips start to wobble. You shake your head ‘no’ in favor of trying to talk and starting to sob, and your friends can tell you’re close to tears. You can hear Eddie and the girl shouting outside, and before you can turn around to look Nancy’s hurrying you out of the sun room. Her and Jonathan guide you into an empty bedroom, Nancy sitting beside you on the soft mattress of the bed, rubbing your back tentatively.

Your friends don’t know all of the details to what’s going on with you and Eddie, but they know enough. Considering most of them are your and his mutual friends, it’s not hard for speculation to go around based on the way the two of you act towards one another. And, quite frankly, they’re not stupid. You and Eddie disappearing for the same amount of time at group hangouts, the occasional flirtatious glances you share, you being visibly upset when he hasn’t spoken to you in a while, the pieces add up. They know you’re more sweet on Eddie than you let on and they know he’s a complete fuckboy asshole half the time, never quite knowing what’s going on with him and why he has to act the way he does with women. They never let Eddie in on your presumed feelings, they keep that secret guarded with their lives and for that you’re grateful. You know they know and you also know they’ll never make you say it out loud unless you’re ready to. But you have a feeling they must grow weary of picking up your pieces when he lets you down yet again, in ways they don’t have the full details on.

Nancy and Jonathan offer to get you a glass of water, both of them embarking on the rather simple task solely so they can discuss the situation at hand.

“What the fuck is his problem!?” Nancy seethes loud enough for her boyfriend to hear over the music.

“I don’t know, Nance, I don’t know. But I do know that if I have to see Y/N break one more time because of him I’m gonna lose it,” Jonathan responds, weaving past people in attempt to keep up with her.

Nancy just looks at him, her eyes sad and a little defeated. Jonathan understands the look. The look that says she knows Eddie upsets you far more than you ever tell them, a look that says she wishes she knew what to do in this situation.

She turns on the tap in the kitchen sink, filling a cup with ice and then with cold water. She jumps, spilling a little bit of the cup’s contents as Eddie walks in from outside, whooping and hollering and very intoxicated. The girl from the pool is clinging to his side, her hands roaming all over him. Jonathan rolls his eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter and facing away from the commotion.

“He’s such a fucking asshole sometimes,” Nancy says finally, having refilled the cup, now wiping her wet hand on her skirt. “Someone needs to knock some sense into him, or I’m gonna knock his teeth in.”

“Oooo, kitty’s got her claws out,” a voice purrs from beside her.

Nancy gasps, earning a roar of a laugh from Eddie. She smacks him on the arm, typically open to Eddie’s jokes and antics but extremely done with him in the present moment.

“Who’s got you so worked up, Nance?” Eddie slurs, stumbling a little before Jonathan shoves him back upright.

“He’s talking to me right now, actually,” she gives him a fake tight lipped smile, trying to push past him and get back to you.

“Me? What’d I do? You’ve barely even seen me all night!” Eddie shouts, almost knocking into a couple party goers as he tries to catch up.

“I really shouldn’t have to tell you what you did wrong, Eddie. Get your head out of your ass for once and figure it out yourself!” Nancy yells.

There’s a lull in the music as she says it, and several people turn to look in their direction, Steve and Robin sharing confused glances at the sight. Nancy storms off, leaving Jonathan face to face with Eddie.

“Think about it, man,” is all Jonathan says before he walks away, following after his girlfriend.

Eddie stands there, in the middle of a room packed with people, suddenly feeling very, very alone.

•

It’s been a week since you sat in a bedroom in Steve’s house, crying into Nancy’s shoulder as she did her best to console you. It’s been a week since you’ve had any interaction with Eddie, and your heart ached. Not because of how he behaved at the party, no, you couldn’t bring yourself to stay mad at him. Your heart ached with a longing to see him, a deep desire to have him. You’d kept the ringer turned up on your phone, hoping he’d call or text and ask you to come over, but to no avail so far. You huffed, dropping your phone down onto your bed beside you after checking it for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. Your bedroom window is open slightly, letting the soft breeze and the sounds of summer nights penetrate your otherwise quiet abode. You lay with your legs dangling off the edge of your mattress, staring up at your ceiling and trying to will yourself to get up. You finally bring yourself to stand, pulling your coziest sweatshirt over your head and slipping on some shoes. You trod down the stairs to the lobby of your apartment building, stopping in front of the vending machines they so nicely placed there for residents. You were running out of snacks because you couldn’t bear to go out and go grocery shopping, so this was your best bet. You deserved some Cheetos and maybe a chocolate bar, god dammit. You stand there for a moment, skin glowing a blue-white hue from the fluorescent lights inside the machine. Your phone chimes in your pocket, breaking you from your haze. You grab it embarrassingly quickly, almost dropping it as you hold it up to look at the screen. It’s only Robin, sending an embarrassing photo of Steve at work.

You sigh, stuffing your phone back in your pocket and letting your head hang. You take a breath, trying of make yourself feel some sort of normal right now. You’re fine. You don’t need Eddie. You’re not gonna die. You press a few buttons on the vending machine, inserting your card before it dispenses your selections. You’re trudging back up to your apartment, ripping into your bag of Cheetos when your phone rings. You manage an impressive amount of self control as you wait till you’ve fully opened your door and taken your shoes off to see who’s calling. Eddie’s name lights up on your screen, and you feel your stomach do a somersault. You answer the call with shaky hands.

“Hello?” you force out around your mouthful of cheesy snacks, trying to sound as graceful as possible.

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m sorry I’ve been a little MIA lately. I missed you,” his voice purrs into the phone.

“I missed you too…” you admit, going against your brain telling you not to give into him.

“What’re you doing right now? Can I come pick you up?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah of course. I’m not doing much of anything,” you can’t help but smile as you say it, your cheeks heating up.

“Cool, I’ll be there in fifteen,” Eddie promises before ending the call, leaving you standing in your living room with your cheese powder covered fingers, smiling at your phone like an idiot.

You hurry into your room to change, slipping on a loose little tennis skirt and a snug fitting crop top, the fabric hugging your body and accentuating your breasts perfectly. You pull a thin cardigan sweater over top of it to ward off the chill of the nighttime air. Eddie’s true to his word and in about fifteen minutes your phone chimes with a text from him.

‘Here. Don’t keep me waiting ;)’

You scurry out the door, grabbing your bag and your keys. You hurriedly apply a bit of lipgloss as you run down the stairs, knowing Eddie likes the flavor of this one. Eddie watches you from out his windshield as you come bounding towards his car, giving him a sly little wave in the process. He licks his lips as his eyes rake up and down your frame. You swing open the passenger side door, sitting down on the seat and letting your bag drop to the floor.

“Hey, sweets. You look pretty tonight,” he says, grabbing one of your hands and kissing it as he winks at you.

You blush, wondering if he’s sweetening you up to make up for the events of the party. You once again find yourself clinging to the notion that this time it’ll be different, this time he won’t leave you, this time he’ll stay the night after and you’ll make breakfast together in the morning and dance together in the kitchen. His hand squeezes yours as he drives, and he turns up a song on the radio. His stereo is tuned to the oldies station, as per usual. Hysteria by Def Leppard blasts through the speakers, Eddie tapping the fingers of his left hand on the steering wheel as he sings along exaggeratedly.

“I gotta know tonight, if you’re aloneeee toniiiiiight!” Eddie sings, off key and purposely pitchy to make you laugh.

You giggle in the passenger seat as he steals glances at you while he sings along, his right hand entwined with your left.

“Can’t stop this feelin’, can’t stop this fiiiiire,” he continues on, bringing your hand to his chest and pounding on it in a passionate performance.

The drive continues that way, Eddie singing any song he recognizes and turning every single one into a ballad somehow, serenading you. You’re a fit of giggles and stolen glances in his direction, smirking whenever you meet his eyes. You feel more alive in this moment than you have all week.

Tires crunch over gravel as Eddie’s car finally pulls into a parking spot behind The Hideaway, a local bar-slash-restaurant that leans further into the bar aspect with cheap drinks and greasy food, perfect for a summer night. Eddie jogs around to your side of the car to open the door, grabbing your hand and helping you out. He’s being much more chivalrous than usual and it makes your heart swell. This feels like a real date, and your hands tremble with giddiness. The two of you grab a table once you’re inside, the skin of your thighs sliding over the cool material of the booth. You order a couple drinks and whatever food strikes your fancy, one of Eddie’s hands reaching across the table to stroke your arm now and then as you sit and talk. You don’t miss his wandering glances down to your breasts and your lips, and he doesn’t miss the way you eye his ringed fingers and the chain around his neck.

Once you have a few drinks in you, you’ve loosened up quite a bit. Music plays loudly throughout the building and several people have gathered on the makeshift dance floor, moving to the rhythm. You’re pulling Eddie out of his seat, walking backwards onto the floor to dance with him. You pull him close till he’s pressed against your backside, letting your hips sway against him. You don’t miss the way he stiffens when your ass presses into his crotch, his body going tense and his grip on your waist getting tighter. You lean your head back a little bit, inviting him in to kiss your neck. His soft lips press into your sensitive skin, nipping at the soft spot where your neck meets your shoulder. His dark curls hang in his face and tickle your skin, the cold metal of his rings digging into the soft skin of your waist left exposed by your crop top.

You dance like this for a while, touches growing more intimate and lips becoming more reluctant to leave each other’s skin. Finally, Eddie decides he can’t take it anymore. He’s rock hard pressed up against you and the way your body moves is sinful. He pulls you off the floor and into a private bathroom, locking the door quickly behind him. As soon as he does he pulls you to him, kissing you with fervor as his hands roam your body. You melt right into him, your body pliant to whatever he wants to do to you. Your tongue prods into his mouth and you roll your hips into his, taking what you want. Your hand tugs on the collar of his shirt, his breath coming out of his nostrils in heavy huffs as he kisses you like his life depends on it.

He walks you backwards to press you against the small counter for the sink, smiling into the heated kiss when you jump to sit on the counter immediately. His fingers find their way up your thighs, roaming further until they reach the sticky heat between them. Eddie wastes no time, hooking a finger under the fabric of your panties and sliding them to the side. You groan into his open mouth, and his cock twitches in his jeans at the sound. He dips two fingers inside of your warm, wet cunt, the digits being sucked in instantly.

“Pussy’s so fucking greedy for me, did my favorite girl miss me?” Eddie’s voice is a husky growl as he speaks, lips mere centimeters from yours.

All you can do is nod, a high pitched moan escaping your lips. His favorite girl his favorite girl his favorite girl. It never gets old hearing him call you that, he knows exactly what to say to get you to bend to his every whim. His fingers scissor inside of you, your wet walls squelching as he pries them apart.

“Fucking filthy, baby. Such a little whore for me, hm?” he grins, his pink tongue rolling over his front teeth.

Your moans leave your mouth in breathy spurts as he continues to pump his fingers in and out, curling them right into your sweet spot. You lean your head forward, resting on his chest as his free hand comes to rest on your lower back, keeping you close. His thumb presses to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bead with just the right amount of pressure. He knows exactly what you like, exactly how to bring you to the edge. You’re whimpering for him, his lips coming to crash against yours, teeth nipping at the plump skin. The alcohol in your system amplifies your senses, making every touch he gives you feel magnified.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me so soon?” Eddie groans, sensing how close you’re getting by the way your walls tense around his fingers.

You can’t even reply before waves of pleasure wrack your body, your orgasm hitting you incredibly quickly. You cry out his name as his fingers continue to curl inside of you, a smirk gracing his face, cockiness taking over completely.

“Suuuuuch a fuckin’ slut for me, hm? Gonna let me fuck you baby?” his husky voice fills your ears, along with the sound of his belt being undone.

He knows you won’t deny him, knows how badly you need this. You hear the zzzzzzzip of the zipper on his jeans being tugged down, watch as he pulls the black denim down just enough. Keep your eyes trained on him as he grabs his cock from beneath the green cotton of his boxers, yanking it into view. His boxers get shoved down with his jeans, resting just below his ass. The pink head of his cock is shiny with pre cum as you wrap a hand around it, lining him up with your aching hole. He sucks in a breath as he pushes the tip in, reveling in the way you tilt your head back in ecstasy as he parts your folds. Your tits are propped up perfectly thanks to your snug top and your push-up bra, swells of skin on display for his eyes to rake over. He dips down, attaching to your collarbone and sucking the thin skin, licking over the stinging bruises he leaves behind.

“F-feels so good, Eddie,” you choke out, gasping as he thrusts as deep as he possibly can, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“I know it does baby, know how much you love this cock,” Eddie growls.

His hands dig into your hips, holding you in place while he fucks you ruthlessly. The lewd sounds of his shaft gliding in and out of your soaked cunt echo off the bathroom walls, his balls slapping with every jolt of his hips. You tangle your fingers in his curls, knowing it drives him crazy. Eddie doesn’t let you in on a whole lot of the things that make him weak, but the hair pulling one was discovered involuntarily. You’d done it the first time you ever hooked up and he’d moaned embarrassingly loud before he could stop himself, and you’d been using the knowledge to your advantage ever since. He curses as you tug on his dark brown locks, his cock pounding into you even harder. Your body feels like it’s on fire in the best way, so close to release again already. Another bar patron knocks on the bathroom door, only grabbing your attention for a fraction of a second before Eddie grabs your face with one hand, turning you to look directly at him.

“Don’t worry about that, focus on me,” he instructs, his jaw hanging open in a moan as he drives particularly deep into you.

His forehead rests on yours, brown eyes staring straight into yours as he ruins you. The movement of his hips grow messy, and you know he’s close. You’re free falling over the edge in no time, your heavy-lidded eyes trying their best to focus on Eddie as your second orgasm crashes through you.

“That’s it, baby, so good for me,” he grunts, not slowing his movements even a bit.

“Cum inside me, Eddie, please,” you whine, clawing desperately at the collar of his shirt.

“Gonna give it to you, baby, gonna fucking cum,” he’s panting, rolling his hips a couple more times into your soaking cunt until he’s a goner.

You feel him twitch slightly inside you as spurts of his cum fill you to the brim. His eyes squeeze shut as he rides it out, slowly rocking in and out of you, milking himself for every drop. He pulls out of you carefully, causing you to wince at the emptiness. You hop down from the counter on shaky legs, his cum mixing with your release as it slowly rolls down your thighs.

“You’re so fucking hot, babe,” Eddie almost whines, grabbing your face to kiss you.

He situates himself back in his jeans and leaves you to clean up, telling you he’ll be at your table from before. You wipe the mess off your thighs with the horribly thin toilet paper the bar offers, sitting on the grimy toilet seat to pee. You deem yourself good to go after washing your hands and open the door, catching Eddie giving you a little wave from the booth you’d been sitting at. You bound over to him, an unmistakable wave of relief at the fact that he was waiting right where he said he’d be. The two of you are about to leave, throwing cash on the table for the staff to pick up, when you hear a chipper voice call your name.

“Y/N!?”

You spin around, searching in the direction of the voice when your eyes land on a head of strawberry blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

“Chrissy? Oh my god, it’s so good to see you!” you shout, turning to Eddie briefly. “I’ll be right back, kay? I have to catch up with her real quick!”

You jog towards your old friend, wrapping her in a tight hug. She doesn’t seem to take note of who you were with, or if she does she doesn’t pry for details, and you’re grateful for that. You hadn’t seen Chrissy much at all since high school, and the two of you get right to chit-chatting. You tell her about your job, she tells you about her breakup with Jason, so on and so forth. A little more time passes than you’d intended, so you leave her with a mutual promise to get together soon and yet another hug. You turn to find Eddie so you can leave, your brows furrowing when you don’t see him.

Finally your eyes land on him, sitting on a stool at the bar, a blonde bartender leaning over the counter with a hand on his bicep, and another woman standing on his one side, eyeing him up. The bartender leans further over the counter, her tits pressed together and on display from her low cut top, basically staring Eddie in the face. He seems to be laughing, striking up conversation in his disgustingly easy manner. Your stomach turns and your face grows hot, and you bring a hand to your mouth to muffle a cry as you rush out the door of the bar. The tears flow instantly, there’s no use in even trying to stop them. You grasp your phone in a trembling hand, dialing Nancy’s cell. The lights from the street go blurry as your eyes burn with tears, your chest heaving as the dial tone rings in your ear.

“Hello?” her voice picks up, concern evident in her tone given that it’s 11pm and you’re calling her.

“Nancy,” you sob, trying to steady your voice but it’s fruitless, “can- can you please pick me up? I’m at The Hideaway,” you stutter, wiping your nose with your sleeve.

“Jonathan and I are on the way. Sit tight, ok?” you agree and the call ends, leaving you alone until they arrive.

You tilt your head back, leaning against the brick wall of the old building, sobs wracking your entire body. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You curse yourself for believing that this night with Eddie would go any differently than the others. Your mind replays the way he sang to you in the car, the way he held your hand, the way he opened doors for you and stroked your skin at the table earlier. The lump in your throat is impossible to swallow, and you gasp for air between your cries. Nancy’s car pulls up at the curb in front of you, Jonathan in the drivers seat. She immediately jumps out and runs to you, leaning down to your shriveled frame as you curl into yourself. She all but scoops you up, an arm around your shoulder as she guides you to the backseat of the car. She gets in beside you rather than returning to the passenger seat, a gentle and soothing hand resting on your knee as Jonathan starts to drive. You catch the way he glances warily at you in the rearview mirror, face riddled with concern. Your head is pounding, the drinks you had earlier still making your thoughts slightly hazy and everything around you feel slow. When Eddie picked you up, you’d imagined yourself going home with him, making out in his van, tangling up together in his bedsheets. You hadn’t predicted yourself to be drunk in the back of your best friend’s car, crying like a baby on your way home. You mentally scold yourself, embarrassed with the way your friends have to see you, the way they have to try and pick up your pieces when they don’t even know what’s wrong. This is the second time in a week that these two have consoled you, and you feel horrible for making them put up with it.

“Were you with Eddie tonight?” Nancy asks cautiously, but there’s no judgment in her voice.

All you can do is nod, your eyes glassy as you gaze out the window. She squeezes your knee, and the rest of the ride back to your apartment is silent.

Nancy makes sure that you get safely inside, leading you into your room to help you change into some comfortable clothes. She fills your favorite water bottle and grabs your favorite blanket off of the couch, handing them both to you.

“Nance-” you go to thank her, but she cuts you off.

“You don’t have to thank me. You don’t have to say anything. Just take care of yourself, alright? Call me if you need anything,” she squeezes your hand and gives you a tight smile before leaving, closing the door quietly behind her.

The sobs that had started to subside come back in full swing once you’re left alone, hot tears rolling down your cheeks. You take shaky breaths, your heart feeling like it’s been shattered to pieces in your chest. You wanted to believe that Eddie was going to redeem himself this time, and to see that he had no shame about flirting with other women while in the bar that he drove you to stung deep to your core. What hurts even worse is that all you crave, still, is his arms around you, his lips on yours, a moment of peace in a fragile heaven. You curl into a ball on your mattress, letting all of the feelings out in the quiet of your lonely apartment.

Eddie was in a slight panic when he couldn’t find you anywhere in the bar. He had gotten bored while you were catching up with Chrissy, so he went to get himself one last drink before the two of you went on your way. He sunk himself onto a seat at the bar, where a brunette about his age was chatting with the bartender. The second he sat down, he could feel their eyes roaming all over him. The flirting was incessant from the get-go, and truly, all Eddie wanted was to take you home with him, his body craving a second round of you. He had no interest in the two women before him, but for the sake of keeping the peace he just allowed them to fawn over him, roaming hands and seductive eyes drinking him in. He made small talk, forcing smiles and even a couple laughs just to appease the crowd before he could dip. He downed his drink fairly quickly, intentionally so, so that he could make his exit and find you. All he wanted was to grab your hand and kiss you and hold you all night long and- fuck.

He shakes his head as if to rid himself of the thoughts. His brain had been overwhelmingly full of you since the party at Steve’s, and he was uneasy about it. The situation with you was strictly friends-with-benefits, nothing more. It can’t be more. Dark eyes scan the premises, searching for you but coming up unlucky. He checks with Chrissy, who didn’t see where you went after you said your goodbyes, he knocks politely on the bathroom doors to no avail. He goes out to his vehicle only to find it empty. He calls you once, twice, three times, only for the line to ring and ring. With ever perfect timing, a text pops up on his phone screen.

Jonathan: Nancy and I drove Y/N home. What happened, man?

Eddie’s brow furrows as he reads the message, why did you call them to take you home? What did happen? He curses to himself, climbing into his car and peeling out of the parking lot, heading in the direction of your apartment. His fingers drum nervously on the steering wheel, every red light feeling like it takes years to change to bright green. He finally pulls up to your building, his body feels unsteady as he walks up the stairs to your door. He knocks with a shaky hand.

You’re startled by the knock at your door, your crying having stopped for the time being and your body starting to relax. The knock comes again, urgent sounding, and you trod down your hallway and towards the door. Your head pounds and your sinuses are stuffy from your breakdown, and you wince as the loud banging sounds on your door yet again. You pull it open, met with the shaggy hair and big eyes of the man you’ve been wallowing over.

“Y/N, what the fuck!? You scared me half to death, why did you leave without me?” Eddie nearly shouts, running a hand through his hair.

His question dumbfounds you, and you almost want to laugh at the absurdity.

“Why did I leave? Why did I leave!? I don’t know, Eddie, why don’t you ask the bimbo bartender and her friend, and god knows what other women you flirted with when I walked away for maybe twenty fucking minutes!?” the words spill out of you, and you’re shocked at your ability to call him out.

“The bartender-? What? Sweets, I wasn’t flirting with anyone I was just-”

“I don’t want to fucking hear it, Eddie, okay? You pulled the same shit at Steve’s party last weekend! Hook up with me and make me feel sooooo special and then turn around and woo someone else right after. I’m sick of it!” your voice is raised, leaving Eddie wide-eyed in front of you.

“Oh, you’re sick of it? You’re sick of me?” Eddie no longer feels like he owes you an explanation, his need to defend himself taking over.

“I’m sick of keeping secrets, Eddie! I’m sick of not telling our friends what the fuck is going on between us because I don’t want to make you out to be the bad guy! I’m so god damn tired of watching you flirt with every woman under the fucking sun,” your voice wavers, anger trickling in.

“Why the fuck do you care if I flirt with other women? Why does it matter?” Eddie counters, holding his hands out in exasperation.

“Because I love you, Eddie! I’m in love with you!” you shout, tears streaming from your eyes now in a mixture of sadness and anger and passion.

The silence is palpable as Eddie just stands there, shaking his head a little bit. Your heart feels as though it might beat out of your chest.

“What, is that the worst fucking thing you’ve ever heard?” you challenge.

He turns on his heel and exits without a word, leaving you to slam your door shut. You sink down on the inside of it, tears flowing harder than ever before. His silent exit was worse than any words he could have said, cutting you right to the bone, leaving you to bleed all alone.

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