Tumgik
#now everyone knows i'm tall
anotherpapercut · 8 months
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CORRECT THANK YOU FOR SHARING
#submission#I actually have seen this meme because someone sent it to my supervisor at some point and she showed it to all of us ajdbkajs#working with a bunch of gay autistic math nerds fucking rules lmfao y'all have no idea#one of my bosses is super into sci fi and is also a math teacher and puts star trek and firefly and buffy and hitchhikers guide etc etc#references in EVERYTHING he makes. I took a math class from him once and all of the test questions were about some fuckin show#whenever he runs meetings he asks us questions based on star trek usually. recently in a meeting he asked us to choose the best captain#I'm one of only like 3 people who watches all of this shit so I looove going to meetings when he runs them#bc he'll ask some fuckin question like who's the best star trek captain. and the 3 of us who knows what's going on will just start arguing#while everyone else looks around like what the fuck is going on right now (this one always gets the newbies)#my ALL TIME favorite Jake moment tho was when I was there one night and there were no students so we were all just hanging out#and Jake walks out of his office and he looks kind of annoyed. and he's a big dude like super tall and broad and loud as hell#so I can hear him like mumbling shit all annoyed and I'm like hey Jake what's up? you doin ok?#and he sighed and was like no. the schools internet filter started blocking my FAVORITE board game forum#and now when I have a thought I can't just look it up to see if anyone's said anything about it. and that's like ALL I do. it's so annoying#and I was like Jake maybe that's why they blocked it akddjkansbdjsdbebs#god I love that dude. and this barely mentions my other supervisor who is autistic and pansexual and married to a woman#and both of them foster several kids. Jake has like 10 fuckin kids or smth bc he was fostering a couple of kids and then he got married#and she already had children and then they had a baby together. idk he's got like a whole baseball team they're very cute
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running-in-the-dark · 13 days
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oh great, I fell asleep again. except I had really horrible nightmares. and then got woken up by the doorbell, because a guy was here for the internet cables. i had just woken up and I was told before that they wouldn't need anything from us, so I was really confused. and he was the first rude one of all the people I've had to deal with since we moved in. I have literally nothing at all to do with any of this, I just live here 😭😭😭
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hoshigray · 6 months
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𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 9) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!
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“Trick-or-treat!!”
“Gasp—Oh my goodness!” 
“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”
Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family. 
The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”
“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.
“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.” 
The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”
He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?” 
“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”
“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?” 
You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”
“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.” 
“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”
“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.
“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.
To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.
However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you  — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.  
Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s just say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.
Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about. 
There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.
“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner. 
“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.
“Why him?” They said in unison.
“Why not??” You question their irritation.
“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.
You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.” 
“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years. 
“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink. 
You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—
DING-DONG!!
Now.
Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”
You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.
Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo. 
One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow. 
But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?
“Ya awake now?”
You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone. 
It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?
You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“
“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.” 
You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”
“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”
“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.” 
“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.” 
You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”
“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”
And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”
“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”
Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”
Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.
“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.” 
“Still traumatized from that one time?” 
“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”
The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”
“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”
“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”
“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”
“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”
More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”
“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.” 
You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”
“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”
Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”
“Mmm.”
Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.
That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.
“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”
He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”
It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“
“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…
“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.
He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great. 
And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!
“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”
“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”
He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.
“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…” 
“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”
Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty. 
“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”
One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.
His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.
You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—
CLACK-CLINK!!
The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.
“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”
“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?” 
“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.
You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!” 
But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”
You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!” 
“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”
And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.” 
You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.
You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs. 
With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”
Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.
After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street. 
…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.
“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.  
“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”
“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.
“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your bottoms.
“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.
He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights. 
Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way. 
The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.” 
With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?
“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”
“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.
When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?
“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs—your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”
You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come. 
“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow. 
“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”
“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.
Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.
“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.” 
As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse. 
“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body. 
“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”
Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!” 
How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.
Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body. 
Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.
“Hmmm…You know I’m not done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.
“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”
“Yup, that’s what happened.” 
This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.
It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.
When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.
The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?” 
“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.” 
“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side. 
“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs. 
“Will do.”He whistles. 
“And Toji?”
The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point. 
And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”
You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing…right?
“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.” 
“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”
“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.” 
You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”
“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.” 
“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”
Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?” 
An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you. 
You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.
“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.
“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“
“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.
“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.
“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”
“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”
You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.
“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”
“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks fr' the food, mama.” 
Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired. 
Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”
“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. ���And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”
You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...
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♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!
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maikhiwi00 · 7 months
Text
shit yknow what? that person was right. people are more in love with the idea of love than the person they are with. and that sucks
#txt#okay. i may have had a small crush on someone a few months ago (they started hitting on me and well i was reading signs and everything)#but then i learnt the way this someone actually is and i was like ooh nope. i don't wanna get involved with someone like this#but the thing is. i used to fantasize with them yknow. i liked the version i made of them in my head#and when i realized they weren't like that version and they were worse well. i kinda lost that small crush and we're only acquaintances now#it got me thinking about my sexuality though. am i asexual panromantic? maybe. but let's say i'm queer and that's it.#okay so. now there's this guy. he likes to tease people and sometimes annoy them okay so he's that type of guy.#i think he's trying to hit on me. he puts his head on my shoulder he interwines our fingers he invites me from things he eats etc#but i know he has a big crush on another girl. or maybe he used to. maybe he does all those things with everyone? who knows#anyway i didn't mind him for the past months and i didn't think much about the things he does but. this past week—#this past week those kind of things have been happening but intensified yknow. and more frequently.#and. idk. he's tall and his fingers are long and maybe i like that in people? idk. maybe i have a small crush on him. very small#but the thing is i'm fantasizing. and when i find out he's not the way i'm picturing him in my head i will be disappointed and lose interest#and that's why i said in the post 'people are in love with the idea of love' because. yeah#i'm in love with MY fantasies about these two people i've had a crush on. i wasn't in love with them and i'm definitely not in love with him#i'm in love with the idea of them / him behaving the way i've pictured them / him in my head#i'm more in love with the idea than the person. and that sucks
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screampied · 5 months
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❛ SWEET TOOTH! ❜
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synopsis. geto's got a sweet tooth for his pretty partner in culinary arts. rumor has it gojo wants a taste too. the two chefs compete on which one can make you cream the most.
total wc. 5.8k
warnings. satosugu x fem!reader, college au, squirting, (geto) eats it from the back, double penetration, unprotected s*x, dumbfication, dirty talk, oral (fixation), overstim, them basically fighting over you.
an. wrote this bc…i'm hungry </3 random stsg brain rot lawl
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“you're a fine cook, you know?”
your eyebrows raised as both of your hands rested against the edge of the laminate-glassed counter.
taking off your toque to give geto direct eye contact, he continued to speak. “i still think your banana pudding was the best.”
“oh, thank you,” you mumbled, and geto stood tall - the size difference was truly immaculate.
broad shoulders yet a very much lean body.
he had his hands buried and dug into the holes of his pockets, flipping the apron near his white coat to the side before giving you a soft smile. “i wish i could have tried your desert, chef kept rushing everyone to clean up earlier.”
“you still can,” geto mutters, and you stare up at him. his voice was somewhat teasing but stoic.
his body language was simply suave…he leaned against the counter as he spoke before making a few inches towards you. his eyes trail down, and his thumb swiftly swipes against the side of your cheek—excess sweet cream of his infamous banana pudding. “it still has its flavor. vanilla, my personal favorite.”
he was so close to you, his body heat practically radiated against you, not literally though.
you were deep in thought as he was directly propped up beside you.
“may i…?”
he's got his dessert in hand, and it was a slice of vanilla cake—neatly decorated at the top with a cherry topping, just a good enough glance and your mouth is damn near watering. it’s decadent with sweet cream and icing, you nearly forgot how to speak.
“yeah.. yeah...yes please.”
you didn’t even realize how needy you sounded, just a few inches of your tongue and you’d be licking your lips.
geto cups a hand over your chin—his dark focused gaze, pretty lashes of his fluttering throughout each blink. he scoops a good amount from the stainless-steeled fork, and brings it towards your glimmering plump lips.
“open a little for me, pretty.”
his voice, it was a mere whisper…
as you parted your lips slightly for him to press the fork inside, the piece of cake now going onto your tongue—you couldn’t deny, just those words alone had you feeling a certain type of way. geto's eyes never left yours, in fact, the soft back of his thumb pad was continuously gently stroking the side of your mouth.
the taste of the cake, just amazing.
dramatic was a good enough word to depict for you because as soon as the icing slicked against your lips���the pure flavor, the sweet sweet vanilla mixed with a single dash of vanilla extract, the cavity-coated sugary taste, and oh… cinnamon.
“mhm…”
you paused, feeling a heatwave of utter embarrassment wash over you. you let off the most dirtiest moan imaginable. all from a taste of cake from geto. the smile remains on his near perfect crooked lips before he hums, placing the fork aside.
“you must really enjoy it, huh?”
even his chuckle was sexy, such bass in his voice was enough to have you soaked right underneath your formal kitchen attire—directly underneath your apron, he couldn’t see but your legs were squeezed shut together, tight.
“yeah, it’s um..good.”
“just…good?” he teases, his long gorgeous dark strands of hair was down…flawlessly dancing over his broad shoulders. some strands cutely poking through his own toque top-hat. his eyes were nearly fucking you on its own.
eyes half closed, seducing.
“ah wait. you have more icing on your mouth. tsk, you’re so messy...”
geto leans in, his thumb still strokes and strokes against your mouth before he leans in—and you nearly slip out a whine from his teasing he was. you were about to open your mouth before he raises his brows.
“just say it. i don’t have to use my fingers to clean your mouth, princess.”
just from those words alone was enough to have you dripping between your thighs, your hands gripped against the back edges of the counter before you spoke in a soft shaky voice. “…kiss me, suguru. please.”
“open.”
as soon as he leaned in to kiss you, you immediately moaned, feeling the slow and sensual swirly lick he made just from his tongue.
he laps up the tiny remnants of creamy icing that was just near the side of your mouth. only before focusing himself on your lips now, the kiss was tasty just like the ingredients of his cake.
geto's got one hand on your chin, another on your waist. you’re propped against the counter and he’s so warm…
you could taste the sweetness of his dessert on his tongue, he takes a few seconds to depart from your lips—dragging a tongue gently and slowly from your mouth to your neck.
“you taste so good.” he huffs out, his voice was low, creating kiss trails near your collarbone and you moaned before he went back up kiss you. geto’s strong manly cologne scent wafts against your nose as you tug on his chef cpat, desperate for more than just his sweet tongue.
“yo, suguru do we have anymore—”
the both of you broke away immensely at the sound of a familiar voice, no one another than gojo satoru.
great.
he’s got quite the look on his face, wearing loose sweatpants. his apron was half on and he looked insanely attractive even while dressed down.
a sudden smug grin appears on his face. “oh…!” he says dramatically, hands of his going right on his hips, “pft. is this why you didn’t wanna hang after culinary suguru? you decided finally gonna get laid?”
“shut up.” geto grunts, and his entire mood was ruined. you suddenly felt embarrassed, in such heat of a moment then gojo just had to show up.
“heh,” he snickers before walking towards you, and gojo’s so tall, the both of them are but he’s equivalent to a skyscraper.
he stares you down with pretty cerulean hued eyes, doing the same motion geto did.
a swift thumb strokes against your cheek and he speaks in an almost husk yet playful tone. “hmph. i wanted you first, shame sugu got the first taste. now that’s no fair.”
“…you both can have me.”
they both share the same nonplus expression at your blurted words—you didn’t even know where that came from, but at this point you didn’t care. geto already made a mess out of you, barely even doing anything but kissing you, and oh how wet you were between your legs.
seeing them both in front of you only continued to make you pulse and yearn for more.
“really?” they both say at the same time, in sync. you were already so hot and bothered by geto, you only could have imagined what it felt like being with the both of them.
you nodded, your impatience was wearing so thin.
gojo snakes a arm around your waist before geto grabs him, nudging him lightly. “not here, idiot. we can just go back to my dorm.”
…there, you laid flat on geto’s flat-sized mattress, gojo was directly next to you—a hand cupping your chin as his lips was pressed against yours.
he tasted sweet, your tongue curled against his and the flavor that coated him made you moan in his mouth. the forms of his lips curving into a smile pressed up against you. you felt it, and you moaned again feel geto kneel down to spread your legs open for him.
he took his time, geto’s warm lengthy fingers softly carressed your legs, slowly pulling down your formal jean attire, creating multiple kisses near your inner thighs, and his tongue…
gently dragging his tongue up your leg slowly until he reached your panties, pants halfway on he pulls them down fully before giving you a three second glance.
“feel how soaked she is, satoru.” geto murmurs.
“bet she is,” gojo snickers, and you whined once you felt him trail a hand down between yours legs to give your laced undergarments that were deeply soaked, a good enough squeeze. “hm. wonder who’s makin' her this wet,” and then he hums, bringing a kiss towards your collarbone before grinning—whispering underneath his breath, it fans against your chest and makes you shudder. “…obviously me.”
“don’t get too cocky,” geto rolls his eyes in vex, and you let off a soft whimper once you look down to see the long-haired man stare at you with a relaxed smile plastered on his face. his eyebrows raise just slightly before he gives you a subtle sexy head nod. “mind putting my hair into a ponytail, sweets?”
his voice was so low and attractive, each syllable he spoke throughout his words.
his pronunciation even was just so filthy, his entire demeanor. you were drenched between your pretty thighs to even fathom anything else.
“okay.” you mumbled, taking his thin hair tie, softly pulling a good amount of his soft strands, maneuvering your hands swiftly around before securing it in a tight yet loose ponytail.
“mm….thank you.” he says, and geto leans in to give the middle part of your panties a slow lick towards your legs twitch and you moan, going back against the bed before gojo starts to unclasp your culinary coat.
running his fingers against the thick fabric, he starts planting kisses everywhere around your mouth and neck—until he starts sucking against your skin. and gojo smells so good too, the both of them wore such strong cologne, but gojo’s scent was a bit more loud.
manly and sharp, it was intoxicating. each teasing suck gojo created against your neck, the soft foreplay licks geto made towards the very print of your panties.
just…fuck.
your head went back in rapture—pleasure, a hand making on the crown of geto’s head, giving his ponytail a light yank before whining. “just..eat me out please suguru. can’t take it anymore.”
“poor baby,” gojo fake pouts, and he makes you turn your position, lying flat on your stomach now and he towers over you. he’s pressing his knees against the bed as he’s in front with geto behind. “what, what what…?” he taunts, watching you desperately claw your fingers towards his sweats, his visible bulge looked so appetizing—you could only imagine how big this idiot was. “ya wanna occupy that mouth while sugu eats you out, yeah?”
“uh huh.”
you nodded, and gojo grows more cocky, craving it badly.
geto uses two fingers to slide your panties to the side - starting off slow with a long stripe lick towards your pre-soaked pussy and you whimpered.
geto's eyes close for a brief moment—using both hands to spread your ass just a bit, dipping his tongue between your slit, savoring the sugary taste. once he started there was no stopping, in his dirty mind, he imagined your pussy was the sweetest dessert he's ever crafted with his own two hands.
cake…cupcakes…fucking ice cream…
his saliva was practically syrupy from how much he was nearly being coated from just your mess alone. some of it runs down the side of his mouth and he’s just such a messy eater.
“…don’t gimme that look, baby,” gojo grunts, his smile—a half skittish one at that, his pants sag and droop from his waistline before you pull it down just to expose his white and blue boxers.
gojo brings your head close towards it with a swift hand around your throat lightly, rubbing your face all against his bulge, the stretchy thin fabric protected his lower half to make you whine more.
“see…feel how..how hard you fuckin' make me? put your throat to good use for me,” and he lifts your head up—making sure you keep direct eye contact. “…‘okay satoru’. say it, girl.”
you moaned, geto's so sloppy as he’s continuing to eat you out from behind, it’s devilishly nasty from how good he was at pleasing you…
figures. because he was one of the top cooks, not only would his meals would be considered s-tier, but so would his tongue. every few seconds he’d spit on your cunt just to lap it up.
with the help of two thick fingers of his already stuffed inside you to make your body twitch and shudder beneath his hold.
“o-okay, satoru.”
stuttering for him, adorable…
you mumbled, and he stares down at you with a cocksure expression, your fingers hungrily pull down his boxers…and his dick sprung out, your first initial thought was how pretty it was.
long, lengthy and a little bit veiny, such height to it that it towers. it was a faint shade of beige but with a dash mix of pink. he was well trimmed, although managed to have a few specks of white hair near his base.
his base though… he was so full, stuffed. literal breeder balls, made your mouth water at just having that stuffed down your tight throat…
damn.
you were so eager, you didn’t want to waste time. gojo watches as you slide your tongue out, swirling it around his sensitive frenulum that was splattered with sticky pre-cum all over it, earning a grunt from him.
“oh….s-shit… juuuust like that, yeah. all the way down.”
his girth was simply delicious, scrumptious even. your warm mouth opened him with open arms. sinking down slowly every few seconds, he groans from feeling you moan down his shaft because of geto continuously eating you out at the same time.
geto’s got a mouth on him, or tongue some might say. the way it flicks against your nub only to abuse it by sucking on it tenderly, savoring its sweet candied taste, your muffled moans fueled him with much desire—even he started to feel himself get hard.
the unapologetic strain in his pants, oh…it was there. just bulging and bulging.
you whimpered at the gentle scrap of geto’s nose swiping against your pussy, equivalent to a credit card as if it was checking for balance.
your eyes rolled back, although gojo wants you to keep your focus primarily on him though.
“mhm. fuckin' slob on it.” he grumbles, gripping the back of your head to lightly move you further and further against him.
his fat tip that was aching inside your mouth, pulsing with much content.
it starts to hit back against the very roof of your mouth, so sloppy, he wants you to be sloppy….you gag, drool spilling from the side of your lips and looking up at him with a cock-drunken grin. “yeahhh girl. there’s that pretty smile. keep doin' that.”
gojo’s using your throat, fingers dug into your scalp and he’s got you being such a mess, such a slut.
he tastes so good, your tongue circulates against his tip. the sweetness yet tang of bitterness of his pre-cum coats the very tip of your tongue, the tastebuds of yours tasted everything.
sweet like candy….sweet like a pastry.
“shit, been hidin' this...dirty throat from me?” he moans, trying to laugh it off but failing. he’s giving you a stare, shooting daggers and he’s kind of embarrassed. your own gaze towards him was so intimate, he’s making you go up and down, you’re breathing through your nose and he almost slips off a whine.
“she’s close, satoru,” geto mumbles, departing his lips for a split second to speak—a whimper rips from your voice at the hotly warm breath of his fanning against your clit, he drags a thumb down your pussy before giving it a light spank. “should i, excuse me….should we let her?” he teases.
“….nahhh.”
you frown, the playful repetitive banter between the two of them going back and forth—long strands of geto’s hair tickles against his skin the further he shoves his face between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man, his tongue was at such temperature, it’s very warmth feeling has butterflies co-existing into the very depths of your tummy.
“you wanna cum, baby? ‘s that why you keep poutin' all stupid-like with my dick in your mouth?”
all you could do was nod your dumb head, up and down with the cutest scowl scattered across your face, pulling back up.
a singular pop leaves your lips one his twitching dick exists, and your glossed eyes stare at him. “s-satoru—”
“no, gorgeous. you’re supposed to be moaning my name.” geto grunts, giving your pussy another smack and you whimper. he’s just french kissing with your clit now, his entire technique made your toes curl, feeling such heat swell and build up inside of you, your mind raced and raced. “suguru. not fuckin' satoru. tch.”
“ahah, don’t mind him, he gets jealous when things doesn’t go his way.” gojo sneers, rubbing a hand underneath your chin.
your spit coats his fingers and he sticks his bottom lip out, fake pity as he’s toying with your mouth.
his dick grows soft inside and you’re basically nibbling on it now. your jaw ached a bit, you’re staring up at him and he gives you an abrupt head bat before groaning. “y-you’re gonna make me cum if ya keep sucking me slow like that, girl.”
you suddenly gasp, snapping out of your cock-drunken trance with a mean ass smack from geto, a snicker escaped his lips in return and you’re cumming hard, it’s unexpected and your legs twitch, practical mush.
only pathetic murmuring cacophonies of, “s-suguru,” and “o-oh my f-fucking goddd,” ‘s made its way out your throat once you stopped sucking gojo off for a few seconds.
your orgasm was rough, boisterous, just hit you like a full blown semi-truck.
his lips were still attached to your folds, dark eyebrows tugged together he’s determined on making you say his name, making you cum more than gojo ever could.
gojo rolllllls his eyes, dramatically as possible.
quite the drama queen he was. the actual epitome of it. gojo ends of concluding himself, swallowing hard as he sat on his knees. you instinctively slide your tongue out for him to spray it with many ropes and droplets of his cum.
“thaaaat’s it, clean me up baby.” he pants, his breath was shaky but he still finds time to flash geto a cheesy grin.
just…wriggling his eyebrows, so unserious. gojo turns his attention back towards you, and he watches you swallow every drop, savoring the taste.
it makes your eyes squeeze a little before you detach your lips, your own sheeny coated saliva running away from his dick.
geto stares at the both of you with a cute pique expression—gojo leans down before stroking your chin, brushing his thumb against your lips whilst observing your features, “gimme a kiss. just like ya did to suguru.”
you scooted upwards on the bed, and his smirk…
his white lashes were pretty, they lowered as he stared down at you, lingering over you even while on his knees. gojo always found a liking towards you. he didn’t mind a bit of competition against his culinary peer, geto wasn’t the only one who had a sweet tooth for you after all.
you lean into his touch—and his slender fingers ghosts against the middle part of your neck, you open your mouth for him just a bit for him to swirl his tongue against yours sensually.
his lips brushed against yours, incredibly soft and plump. he couldn’t help but suck on your tongue just a tad bit, not even minding tasting himself, his own stickiness that remained.
“how repulsive,” geto mumbles underneath his breath, pulling you away of gojo’s reach. geto stares down at you - and he’s quite handsome himself, still in a pussy drunken state, eyes half closed.
he looked gorgeous.
“satoru,” he says, raising his head before he pulls you close towards him. with a soft uttered oof, you land against his chest, and he rubs a hand caressingly down your back, brushing the tips of his fingers against the thin fabric of your tank top. “how ‘bout we compete?”
you moaned, geto brings his lips towards the side of your neck while rubbing his hand against your pussy — feeling how overly sensitive you still were, so needy and in such heat, you bit down on your lip as he continued to speak. “hmm… on who can make her cream the most?”
“me, obviously,” gojo immediately chuckles, as if that was the dumbest question imaginable. “i wanna get first dibs,” and then he pecks a kiss towards your nose. “can i, pretty? ya fine with that?”
“yeah...”
you panted, geto’s feeling you up and he’s so toasty, so warm.
you were embarrassed enough as is with how sticky you were between your legs. your own slick stuck against the crevices of your inner thighs like glue, every few seconds you’d catch geto staring at it, swiping a tongue against his lips as if he wanted to eat you out again, and again.
“…baby.” gojo purrs, you’re pressed against your stomach.
the linen sheets rubbed off against your skin, velvet black sheets and you swallowed whatever pride you had left, glancing at the long rectangular shaped mirror that stood in front of the three of you.
“tell me, yeah,” he pauses…and you choke out a needy whine, oh he’s teasing, ghosting his achy tip against your pussy. “how do you like it? rough? soft, aggressive?”
and then he leans directly close towards you—his chest hits against your back, and he playfully grinds against you with just his throbbing cock pulsing between you making you whimper out. “i wanna get to know this pussy before i just go all in, ya know…?”
“r-rough, please. just fuck me, satoru.” you sniffled, glancing up at geto who’s got a relaxed smile—he pursed his lips against each other before starting away with a flirtatious scoff.
he was jealous.
one he started, gojo was a monster, plain and simple. his stroke game was just downright mean.
he’s got you gripping the sheet, hanging on for dear life and babbling the most ludicrous things out of your mouth, you can’t even believe the things you were whining out.
as his dick buried inside of you—your jaw is nearly dropped open at full he’s got you, his length, the girth and the fucking stretch of his cock has you drooling for more. “s-shit, shit more,” you begged, your voice trembling from his mean hits.
no remorse, your ass smacks and smacks against him loudly. it rings throughout your ears, making your teeth chatter just slightly. gojo’s hand wraps against the back of your throat. a tiny squeak comes out and surely enough, you find yourself smiling at your reflection. “not too rough am i, pretty? …she okay?”
pulling your eyebrows together in confusion, you were confused before realizing he was referring to your pussy. of course…
“n-no, i'm fine.” you choked out.
“good, gooood….”
he's sexily grunting, and his hip movements were just animalistic. his frame snaps and jerks against you to where the mattress is just singing out adlibs in harmony. creak after creak after creak, it grows out to be annoying—yet alas…your dumb little brain can barely process anything anymore.
now you knew why they called it backshots for a reason.
gojo’s weight just barely lingers against your ass, your pussy was vocal too. it’d be quite foolish for it not to be.
it squelched and cried and even spat out many other various sounds all from gojo’s mean derogatory target hits against your very core. frail arms just dangling over the bed, being stretched thin by his dick, its expanding and exploring your walls as if it was on a mission.
your pussy craved and yearned for more, pretty soon you were gonna cum again—he’s got your arms pinned behind your back, just driving and bullying his dick in and out of you. you’re speechless, lurching against the mattress your eyes roll back and gojo groans, “your back arch is so pretty, baby,” he taunts, clicking his tongue in derision. “so whiney.”
“…you’re hogging her, satoru.” geto grumbles, and he brings your body up to sit up—gojo scoffs, watching him take initiative to kiss you again. you whimper in his mouth once you felt him bring a hand between your legs. gojo pulls out with a frown, watching geto steal you now.
his warm lips clashed against yours—he tasted so rich and sweet, the flavor, his flavor was just purely appetizing. as your tongue collided against his, he’s hungrily gripping your ass now, the thin middle part of your panties lazily pushed to the side, you could taste the tiniest sugary-coated cream of his pastry still on his lips. not to mention your own slick as well, it still coated his chin, shimmery and all.
with a free hand, he pulls his hair out of a ponytail, and it flies loose. some of it tickles against your skin and you whined once he gave your ass a smack before presenting it with a good squeeze.
“you’re greedy, suguru...” gojo pouts. “you didn’t even let me finish, man.”
feeling the tips of his ears seethe with hotness, gojo didn’t wanna admit how hard it was to see you and geto make out with each other. geto’s hand placement, it was so attractive—one resting on your hip, another on your bare ass, kissing his palm against your rear with a few spanks to make you moan such salacious moans and whimpers in his mouth.
you feel geto’s lips purse into a smile at gojo being jealous now, he runs his tongue alongside yours, and he brings you closer towards him.
you hook a leg around his waist and that’s when his hands slide down your waist. “she wasn’t yours to begin with.”
he mutters, smiling at gojo—pulling away to lick down your neck and you whimpered.
“im joking, crybaby. guess i gotta share,” he pecks a kiss near your collarbone. geto stares into your eyes before relaxing his face, humming before leaning close to your ear. “think you can take both of us, gorgeous?”
both…?
you nodded without hesitation, and gojo presses up against you before you crawl on top of geto’s lap.
he slouched back against his mattress with a smug grin, whipping his dick out. he was thicker while gojo was subtly longer. he still had inches to him, every single second you took to stare made your mouth water.
“tch….should be ridin' me instead,” he snarls underneath his breath, helping you slide your way down onto geto.
“cry about it.” geto shrugs, and the white-haired male only gives him a glare. you moaned, feeling geto’s thickness insert its way inside your pussy, past your folds. barely in and his tip was so fat. it was plump and stretched your cunt out to its supreme.
gojo tsks, stroking himself before rubbing himself against your leaky hole — your arms snake around geto’s shoulders and he’s staring at you. one hand of his slipping underneath your top to brush his thumbs against your perky nipples, making you whimper even more.
his tongue slithered against your bare skin…giving it a good suck, his pearly white teeth playfully nibbles against your nipple and you whine.
“can your pussy even fit two?” gojo pants, his voice was shaky, embarrassingly so—he’s catching himself licking his lips, sinking his way inside you, now you’re just being double stuffed. you’re on geto’s lap with gojo positioned behind you.
feeling every inch, inches stuffing inside of you, gojo spanks your ass. purposely leaning up close to you — he’s warm, his entire body is, the fabric of his hoodie skims up against your back.
you hear him chuckle nervously against you, and you start to move your hips against geto. warm breath fanning against your earlobe before he playfully licks the side of your ear only to nibble on it to hide his moans.
“…mhm..baby…baby,” he grunts, grabbing your hips to rock against him. gojo moans, melodically so, he’s practically jumping against you, you’re taking both of them and you bite down on your lip. geto leans back and watches the view of you riding him while getting inches from behind. “s-still gotta finish, ‘m a little sensitive still.”
“ya think satoru should finish, princess? he looks like he’s about to cry,” geto sneers, his gaze was stoic as ever, he raises his head, a meaningless head tilt at you, locking eye contact and he’s so big.
gojo’s fingertips dig into the fat of your ass, spanking it and spanking it — the recoil turning him on even more and he just can’t shut up. babbling nonsense, his bottom lip pokes out as he feels himself grow hotter, immense pressure building up as he was rutting himself against you, geto as the same time.
tag team.
“n-no.” you giggled, being caught by surprise once gojo wraps his arms around you — body to body, his cold breath danced against your skin after each jittery pant of desperation.
geto only laughs at your answer, watching you keep up a somewhat reasonable pace with your hips, you lightly shove geto down against his back, swerving yourself against him, and he’s stretching you fully. “he’s been too bratty.”
damn…
“eh?! y-you guys are fuckin' bullies…”
he spasms, his pink-reddened lip quivers, glancing down to see your pussy getting devoured by two thick cocks. you couldn’t really talk because you were moaning just as much as gojo, he’s so close to you, his scent, his loud scent that never failed to make you dizzy, “shit, i-i can’t.”
“just kidding, you can cum,” you whimpered, feeling gojo suddenly reach down to squeeze your pussy — kissing it with a few spanks from his hand.
your legs clench and tremble, and he’s so relieved. poor baby, he’s all shaky, it’s almost like he’s the girl.
gojo’s sputtering out incoherent, “thankyouthankyou,” ‘s into your neck repeatedly, taking a moment to swallow before he’s shooting inside your clenching hole, his entire body locks and tenses.
his jaw mimickes the same and his orgasm was soooo loud.
“f-fuck, take it all for me. been savin' it for so long…”
it’s sticky and slimy — gojo’s cum spills out, and he pouts once he pauses, watching it pour out only to stuff his dick back in, plugging it in so it never leaves.
he swipes his thumb against his own created mess and moans. “phew shit... ‘m gonna have dreams about this, ‘bout your nasty pussy soakin' up my c-cum.”
it continues for hours and hours, actually let’s not exaggerate — half an hour.
a good half an hour of you being absolutely stuffed, fucked stupid with your pretty doe eyes staring into space, jaw dead open and legs feeling virtually nonexistent. they made you cum, cream…about at least a dozen times.
you were so conflicted, geto’s praising you, showering you with compliments in that sweet low voice meanwhile — gojo’s degrading you now after getting over his impactful orgasm, he’s so mean.
he grows a liking to spanking your pussy, telling you no, those single two letter words that never fails to make you pout and whine.
“this is so much better than culinary.” geto sighs, and he’s got you currently pressed up against his chest — full nelson, an arm swiftly and safely locked around your neck and your legs were all spread. you looked so stupid, eyes protruding at the position, your legs being just barely over your legs.
“she’s a good cook but an even better squirter,” gojo stares at you, taking full view of your cunt. it’s just spitting out gibberish, squelches…
geto’s got your body swinging and swaying against his own — you’re being stretched all the way out in more ways than one, you didn’t know you were this flexible. “one more, babe. show us your cute little velocity.”
“don’t be shy, you’ve made such a mess for us already,” geto eggs on, peppering your neck with kisses, your head’s spinning and everything feels so good. you can hear your heart pounding and thrashing out of your ears. “relax for me. yeah, like that. it’s okay…it’s okay gorgeous.”
geto’s words made you throb — his cock pulsed inside of you, so deep it makes you suck and kiss your teeth in envy. the curve of his dick hits and raptures against you, dragging out a sweet moan from your spit-glossed lips. “let me make you cream again. easy, girl..”
so much pressure rises and builds up, your head just smacks against geto. eyes subtlety rolling back to where you’re seeing straight black. “f-fuckkk. s-sugu.”
“give it to us, c'mon.” gojo whispers, he starts to maneuver circles against your clit, and since the position in you were in didn’t allow you to close your legs, you just jolted, panting and huffing out irregular breaths. “so sensitive, good girl. ‘s okay. be messy. i’ll clean ya up.”
once you squirt — it shoots out with such force, gojo’s in awe, a stupid grin plasters on his face before he slides a thumb inside your pussy that’s already being stuffed by geto’s lengthy dick. “ooooh.”
geto’s different when it came to his loads, it shot out hefty splotches, painting your insides white to where you’re chewing on invisible words, invisble moans.
he makes the both of you grow quiet so you can hear, himself shooting a filthy sticky load inside, he’s panting himself, sweat raced down the side of his head as he’s catching his breath. the way he used two fingers to pry your pussy open, showing gojo his own cum pour out of you — it’s racing down your folds as if it was in a contest.
“good…girl. f-fuck.” he says, his tone a bit drowsy.
“someone’s tired,” gojo teases, pulling you into a kiss. you moaned, kissing back. still on geto’s lap, he’s still got your legs spread open for him, but he takes you out of the head lock from full nelson, allowing your legs to breathe.
gojo’s tongue drags everywhere on your mouth, he was a sloppy kisser and wasn’t ashamed. he was obsessed with your saliva - moaning as you ran a finger down his toned biceps flexing underneath his tank.
you pull away after a whine, gasping for air only to fall back on geto’s chest, never in a million years thinking you’d screw your two culinary peers.
“we…we should do this again,” gojo sighs, swiping his hand across his sweaty forehead.
geto narrows his brows, still fucked out himself. “you weren’t even invited.”
“y-yeah? well i still made her cream more than you. let’s be honest, suguru. i won, heh.”
“you moan like a woman, just stop talking.”
“….”
then you remembered why, the constant bickering amongst the two of them — so damn annoying. but sexy, fighting over you and everything. gojo leans down, softly nibbling on your thighs. geto smiles, moving close to lick a stripe up your tummy as if your body was coated in nothing but sweets.
“f-fuck.” you’d pant, gojo’s tongue sliding between the crevices of your thighs now, running a finger down your sloppy pussy.
“we aren’t done with you, girl,” geto mutters, his hair strands tickle against your skin before he sits up — tapping a thumb against your cheek before smiling, poking his dick in hand against your lips, smearing it with your own spit. “open that mouth. wanna give you a treat. ‘s got so much vanilla waitin' just for you to swallow.”
maybe culinary wasn’t so bad after all..
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ohproserpine · 3 months
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iv. dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, alastor does not know how to interpret love, or maybe he does, in his own twisted way, roadkill used as a symbolism, gorey descriptions of love, murder the song she sings is 'roxie' from chicago
˚୨୧₊♱
"Hey!" Charlie's voice rang out as she spotted Mimzy making her way towards the hotel entrance. The blonde froze, casting a nervous glance behind her to see the demon princess rapidly approaching with a worried look that she mistook for anger.
With practiced ease, the blonde put on a fake frown, pressing her hand over her chest. "Oh, Charlie! I'm so sorry for the trouble last night, sugar! I'll pay—"
"No, no! I'm not here for that," Charlie waved her hands with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the slump of relief on Mimzy's shoulders. "Are you leaving so soon? The hotel wouldn't mind taking you in!"
Caught off guard by Charlie's unexpected offer, Mimzy grimaced. She hesitated, opening her mouth before shutting it as she struggled to find the right words. "Oh! Well…you see…"
A laughing track, sounding like it was filtered through a radio, echoed through the air, and Mimzy turned to the source to find Alastor towering over her with his signature grin.
"I don't think redemption is quite her style," Alastor's chipper voice rang out. His clawed hand reached for Mimzy’s hair, plucking a feather from her headpiece. In his hands, the pink ornament erupted into flames. "Frankly, I have my doubts she could even be redeemed at all!"
Horrified, Mimzy watched as her feather fell to the floor in ashes, her hand instinctively reaching for the charred remnants.
"Alastor," Charlie glared at him before turning her attention back to Mimzy. "We believe in redemption for everyone. It's not about what you were; it's about what you choose to be now. We'll be here to support you every step of the way."
"Thanks, sugar," Mimzy forced a smile, waving her hand around daintily. She glanced at the entrance with a subtle wish for escape, playing up the nice act while Alastor continued to watch the scene unfold with a cryptic smile. "But radio here is right. I don't really think it's my style. Different strokes for different folks. Plus, I've got a business to run!"
Alastor hummed, twirling his microphone cane around in his hand. The crimson glow of his eyes narrowed at her as he chuckled. "You couldn't possibly mean that wooden box of debauchery you call a club, right?"
"My 'wooden box of debauchery' has more character than any joint in that city," Mimzy grit her teeth together in a smile, barely concealing her frustration.
As another argument began to form, a throat clearing interrupted the flow, capturing Mimzy's attention. A pink glove slowly rose from the couch and Angel Dust pushed himself off the furniture, sitting up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"If I may~" Angel Dust chimed in. "You saying you, ah, got a bar? I'm always up for checking out new places. Mind if I swing by sometime, tits?"
Mimzy beamed and sent Alastor a smug look, making her way toward Angel Dust. She reached into her chest, pulling out a card with a flourish. "Of course, kitten! Here's all our information. You'll find us in the Vee district. Feel free to swing by anytime. And don't forget to bring a friend!"
Angel Dust took the offered card, a grin forming on his face. "Bring a friend, huh? You got it, toots."
˚୨୧₊♱
The Vee district, designated as the entertainment hub of Pride, was dazzled with bright neon lights and tall towering buildings adorned with blazing billboards. The streets pulsed with life, where every ten steps brought you face-to-face with street performers desperately vying for attention, hoping to catch the eyes of industry scouts. The message was clear – fame was the ticket to success. Performers were everywhere, found in rundown bars, neon nightclubs, and costly theaters catering to the insatiable appetites of the elite.
Mimzy's Lounge, nestled down east on one of the city's worse-off streets was no fancy stage. The building, weathered and worn, seemed to barely hold itself together. The exterior bore the scars of years gone by, with cracked windows, peeling paint, and near-rotting wooden walls. While it may not have been on the standards of the elite, to the poor and downtrodden, it was the best piece of entertainment they could afford.
Inside, the dim lighting of the bar did little to conceal the stains and cracks that adorned the floor and ceiling. Tables and chairs, mismatched, were arranged haphazardly. The air hung heavy with the smell of cheap perfume, wrapping around the audience—a motley crew of lost souls. On the stage, a couple of scantily clad showgirls were performing a dance routine, or at least their movements vaguely resembled one. The quality of the performance didn't seem to matter to the audience, who, hungry for any form of entertainment, welcomed the spectacle with open arms.
Seated discreetly in the back booths, Angel and Cherri had drawn their curtains tight, creating a cocoon of privacy amid the bustling buzz and thumping music in the club.
"…And check this out – Alastor is hitched," Angel Dust spat out the last word as if it were poison. His face caught the warm, bright lights spilling into their booth, slipping through the small gap in the middle of the curtains. He sipped from his drink, a glint in his eyes. "And the owner here's got some serious dirt on his missus or somethin' like that."
"That why you dragged me to this hellhole? Knew it," Cherri snorted, taking a sip of her cocktail, the sweet and tangy flavors doing little to mask the less-than-pleasant ambiance. "Couldn't believe you'd even want to step into a place like this."
"You know I can't resist a bit of gossip, and where else can you find more gossip than in a joint run by a gal who's got the goods on Alastor himself?" Angel grinned, his golden tooth flashing as he reclined in his torn red chair. "Hell. I bet anyone else would do what I'm doin'. I mean, who wouldn't be tearin' these walls down just to catch a glimpse of the Radio Demon's wife?"
Cherri Bomb let out a throaty chuckle. "Well, you're bloody right there."
A sudden blast of music echoed through the air, prompting Angel Dust to scramble out of his seat and poke his head out from behind the curtain. The previous performers stepped off the stage, making way for the upcoming act. He caught sight of a familiar pudgy figure sauntering onto the stage and hastily turned his head back to the booth, meeting Cherri's amused face. "It's startin'!"
“Welcome, all you devils and darlings, to the Dollhouse Lounge!” Mimzy's voice boomed, and the lights gracefully dimmed to focus on her. The hum of conversation dwindled, the audience's attention now on the stage. “It's the moment you've all been waiting for! The last act of the night… Dolly, the living doll!"
With Mimzy's spirited introduction, the claps and cheers crackled in the air. In an instant, the lights plunged into darkness, leaving Angel to flit his gaze across the smoke-hazed stage, hungry for a glimpse of what was to come. Suddenly, a surge of stage lights sliced through the lingering smoke, akin to a celestial burst, revealing your silhouette with a large signage that spelled out your name in bold, red letters.
Wearing a lovely smile, you spread your arms wide, catching everyone's attention as you sang the first note, voice sultry and dripping sweet like honey. "The name on everybody's lips is gonna be Dolly."
"That's his wife?" Cherri gawked behind Angel, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "Are you sure we got the right girl?"
"Hell, I'm just as surprised as you are," Angel shot back, an equally dumfounded look on his face.
"The lady raking in the chips Is gonna be Dolly," your voice echoed, the melody carrying through the lounge as you strolled towards the stage's platform. The rhythmic beat of the music vibrated against the soles of your heels while the spotlight dutifully trailed after you, its gentle glow caressing the curves of your glittery dress, casting glimmers of silver and gold that danced across the dimly lit bar.
"I'm gonna be a celebrity. That means somebody everyone knows," you continued, sauntering around the stage. As you swirled and twirled, your silhouette became a blur of sequins and shimmer. The spotlight then intensified its focus on you, highlighting the glint in your eyes. "They're gonna recognize my eyes. My hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose."
"Fuck," Angel muttered under his breath. As you moved closer to the end of the platform, he could finally get a good look at you.
Shimmery blue eyeshadow graced your lids, while a dark blush adorned the apples of your cheeks, complementing the red lipstick you had on. Your dress, a dazzling ensemble of sequins, was not only radiant but also provocatively low-cut, teasingly revealing a glimpse of your chest before gracefully dropping to your knees. Dark silk stockings, sensually tracing the contours of your legs, were held by garters. At your feet, bedazzled red Mary Janes sparkled like jewels, catching the light with every step you took.
As Angel thought back to his conversation with Mimzy, he found himself agreeing with her earlier comments. You really were a living, breathing doll.
"From just some dumb canni-bal’s wife. I'm gonna be Dolly," you continued, seamlessly weaving your magic, each lyric a spell that bound the audience. "Who says that murder's not an art?"
With a spin, you twirled around the stage, a ditzy grin on your face, the sequins on your gown catching the light like stars. "And who, in case she doesn't hang, can say she started with a bang! Dolly Heart!"
As the final notes of the song echoed through the venue, the room erupted in applause and cheers. But, the curtain wasn't falling yet. Standing backstage, Mimzy let the moment linger, reveling in the prolonged applause. After all, happy customers always tipped generously.
On cue, bills and coins descended like a storm, hitting the floor with a crisp sound that mixed beautifully with the cheers of the delighted audience. There was so much that the shower of currency formed a makeshift carpet beneath your feet.
Angel Dust, still peeking from behind the curtain, wore a smirk of approval. "Not bad, not bad at all," he whispered to Cherri, who nodded in agreement.
Standing on the stage, bathed in the lingering glow of the spotlight, you held your pose, chest heaving up and down. A demure smile graced your lips as soft, appreciative nods and fluttering eyelashes accompanied each gaze you cast toward the audience. Tonight's turnout was impressive, though not unexpected given your agreement to perform one of your most famous songs after a prolonged hiatus.
"Dolly" was a beloved crowd-pleaser and the one song you hated with a passion.
The spotlight continued to shine relentlessly in your eyes, causing a painful burn in your irises. The deafening applause felt like a relentless assault on your senses as each clap echoed loudly in your ears. From the speakers, the music blasted in waves, the volume rattling your bones. Showbusiness, a constant companion in both your living and afterlife, had become an achingly familiar yet tormenting cycle.
In the corner of your eye, you saw Mimzy step up onto the stage to address the crowd. "Thank you, my lovely devils and darlings! Wasn't Dolly simply darling tonight?" she squealed through the mic.
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause once more, the energy in the room reaching a fever pitch. Mimzy basked in the adoration, her grin widening as she soaked in the success and the money. Oh, the money.
"I know you loved that!" she laughed. She leaned into the microphone, her voice turning into a whisper "Of course, you all do. I wrote it."
"Now, let's give our star her rest. Dolly, my dear, take a bow!" Mimzy's voice rang out, signaling the end of the performance. Relieved, you bowed before making your way towards the curtains as the heavy fabrics began to descend. After blowing a few more kisses to the audience, you slipped backstage, letting the smile fade from your face. As you vanished from view behind the curtain, Angel caught the look on your face.
It was a look he knew all too well.
"She looks perfectly happy without him," Cherri remarked with a casual shrug. "I mean, look at 'er. She's the star of the show. You think she left on purpose?"
Angel furrowed his brows, deep in thought. It didn't make no sense to him.
Why would you willingly perform under Mimzy's control when Alastor, with his power, could easily get you out of here? Contract or no contract, that radio freak could tear Mimzy apart like a hot knife through butter.
The spider's attention shifted towards the audience, and his gaze locked onto Mimzy, who was engrossed in conversation with some VIPs. The sight of her triggered a scowl to etch itself onto his features.
"I don't think so. There's more to it," Angel's eyes narrowed, the wheels in his head turning, "I've seen that look before."
"What look?" Cherri raised an eyebrow.
"That trapped look," Angel said, his gaze following Mimzy as she continued her animated conversation, oblivious to the scrutiny. "Before the curtains dropped, I saw it on her."
"Shit, Angie," Cherri's gaze followed Angel's, and she pursed her lips. "You think she's playing the part or really stuck?"
Angel Dust stood up straight, now opening the curtains wide as his eyes never left Mimzy. "I don't know, but I'm gonna find out."
Both of them took their time, patiently waiting until Mimzy stepped away. Once the blonde demon finally made her way backstage, they discreetly followed her lead, slipping behind the curtains with her.
The busy backstage corridor welcomed them with an assortment of items – costumes, props, and stage decor – scattered in chaotic disarray. Angel's eyes wandered around, and he spotted Mimzy in a far corner, sitting atop worn cardboard boxes. Nudging Cherri, he gestured for both of them to move closer.
"Hey~ How's it going, blondie?" Angel purred, leaning against a nearby prop, his tone dripping with a sickly sweet tone. Mimzy looked up, confused before she recognized him and flashed a wide grin.
"Hey, you! You're that spider fella from the hotel!" She tapped her chin in thought narrowing her eyes at him. "Uhm, Angle Dust was it?"
"It's Angel Dust," he corrected, a twitch of annoyance in his eye.
"Uh-hah, that's nice," Mimzy seemed unfazed, continuing to count her money, her legs swinging back and forth absentmindedly. "You like the show? Oh, who am I kidding, of course, you did!"
Angel Dust crossed his arms with a chuckle. "Yeah, about that. That girl, Dolly. She's quite a number, ain't she?"
"Oh, yeah. She's my little masterpiece," Mimzy smirked. "Met her before she had any of this."
"Let's cut the fuckin' crap," Cherri rolled her eyes, tired of dancing around the conversation. The cyclops leaned down to Mimzy's height, scowling into her face and driving her finger into the blonde's chest. "I'll say it straight. What's the deal with her? You got some strings attached?"
Mimzy paused and glanced up at Cherri with an arched eyebrow before turning to Angel and laughing tensely. "Your friend here sure is forward, Ankle! Oh, sweethearts, Dolly's here because she wants to be."
Angel Dust shot Cherri a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. "Yeah?"
"The girl signed a contract willingly," Mimzy explained with a casual shrug. "She gets what she wants, and I get what I want. It's a fair exchange."
Angel's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. "Contract? What's in it for her, then? Why willingly perform in this dump when she could easily be the star anywhere else?"
The blonde sent Angel a glare for his dig at her lounge but still answered him. "Dolly owes me something. A little debt she's paying off with her charming performances. A contract might sound sinister, but it's just showbusiness, furs." Mimzy leaned back, folding her arms, her expression daring the two of them challenge her further.
"Bull. She sold you her soul to dance and sing?" Cherri scoffed, taking the challenge.
"No, no, there was no soul exchange involved," Mimzy rolled her eyes. "Just a contract. But still binding, magical, and all of that stuff."
"Now, can you two get out of my hair?" Mimzy huffed, shooing them away with a dismissive wave. "I've got a lot of things to run here!" She returned to counting her money, clearly eager to be rid of the unwanted attention.
"Let's go, Cherri," Angel said with a look of defeat, pushing himself off the prop he had been leaning on.
Once the two of them finally stepped out of the establishment, the spider groaned to himself, now finding himself with more questions than answers.
˚୨୧₊♱
You strolled behind the weighty curtains, the backstage area buzzing with the rush of staff, the shouts of managers, and the lingering presence of performers idly awaiting their cues. Navigating through the organized chaos, you directed your steps towards your private dressing room—a sanctuary away from the glaring spotlight.
You threw the door open, entering quickly and slamming it shut behind you, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the clamor and racket outside. Flicking a light switch, the dim glow of a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling revealed the room's worn-out glamour. A vanity cluttered with makeup, costumes haphazardly thrown on a worn-out sofa, and a cracked mirror that had seen better days—all were familiar sights.
"I would kill for a glass of whiskey," you murmured to yourself, the weariness of the performance settling in. Rolling your head and groaning as you heard a satisfying crack, you added, "or maybe a whole bottle of it."
Kicking off your heels, you let the cool floor cradle your skin, leaving the discarded shoes in a dusty corner to rest. Seated at the vanity, the chaotic world beyond the backstage curtains ceased to exist. The gentle glow of the vanity lights exposed the weariness in your eyes as you wiped away your mascara and dusted off the remnants of glitter from your skin. While removing your earrings, the shimmer of your wedding ring caught your eye.
A frown tugged at your lips, the subtle ache of longing surfacing.
You missed your husband.
With a sigh, you continued removing your earrings before tossing them onto your vanity. Seeking to ease the edge, you reached for a whiskey bottle on a nearby dresser, grabbing a glass and pouring yourself a drink. The golden liquid glimmered in the subdued light as you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.
"C̵h̶e̸r̷?̷"̸
A static rumble of a radio, like thunder, jolted you mid-drink, causing the liquid to catch in your throat. Coughing and sputtering for a while, you scrambled to collect yourself before turning behind you. Your gaze landed on the desk table where your radio sat. The crackling static continued, accompanied by a familiar voice and distorted sounds.
Alastor.
Grabbing a cloth to wipe yourself, you rushed to the desk and grabbed the old radio in your hands. The radio was a faded, worn red with yellowed dials, and its antennas were visibly broken, held up together with scraps of tape. Your contract with Mimzy did not allow you to meet with Alastor or his shadows for as long as you were under her, but that didn't mean you couldn't communicate with Alastor in other ways.
With trembling hands, you carefully adjusted the dials, aligning them to the familiar frequency that bridged the gap between you two. Your heart thrummed in your chest, head almost dizzy from anticipation. The distorted voices began to clear, and Alastor's distinctive voice cut through the static, a lifeline in the abyss.
"Cher, my dear, are you there?" Back in his room at the hotel, Alastor spoke through his mic, awaiting your response. He was sitting by the large windows, bathed in the dim glow of the Ring of Pride's lights. The hues painted a lovely ambiance against his skin, highlighting the contours of his sharp features as he reclined against a plush couch.
Heavy silence lingered for a while as you felt your throat closing up. Without realizing it, you began crying, your sobs echoing through Alastor's microphone.
"Yes, Al," you choked out between sobs, your hands gripping the surface of the radio tightly, nails scratching against the peeling paint. "I'm here. I missed you."
Alastor listened to your tearful voice through the crackling static, his shoulders tense as his claws clenched against his microphone handle. Your vulnerable confession hung heavily in the air, and he felt a storm stirring within him. Unsure of what to do with these emotions, he could only sit there and listen to you weep.
From the busiest street in Pentagram City to the darkest alleyways, Alastor's reputation as a bloodthirsty killer was infamous, and he reveled in it. The idea that an overlord like him could entertain genuine care for someone sounded preposterous. Throughout his human days and beyond, Alastor never felt such sentiments.
Decades ago, he only needed himself. However, ever since you entered his life, he became a man possessed.
The moment he first laid eyes on you, you were a vision of beauty with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and he couldn't deny that he felt an inkling of fondness for you right from the start. But that was all it ever was—nothing more, nothing less.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he couldn't help but notice that the glow in your smile was brighter, lovelier. And despite his usual tendency to dismiss such details, Alastor couldn't look away. Not anymore.
You held him captive, like a deer frozen in the blinding glare of oncoming headlights. He was aware the collision was imminent, yet it still caught him off guard; A torrent of emotions crashing into him like a speeding truck, leaving him with twisted limbs and cracking bones, antlers torn from his head, fur matted and bloodied, with his heart exposed, beating vulnerably before you.
In the months that followed, Alastor remembered how foreign the feeling to him was. He didn't want to understand it, refused to, but each attempt to rip those festering emotions out of his chest only left him bleeding.
Looking back, Alastor finds himself incapable of fathoming how life was bearable before you entered it. The mere thought of returning to a time when you weren't present is something he refuses to entertain. The person he used to be, before he stepped into that speakeasy, now feels like a distant stranger, a mere shadow of the man he has become with you in his life.
The static in his thoughts subsided, in tandem with your crying and sobbing dying down. A prolonged pause lingered before Alastor interrupted the silence. "Cher, you know I'd bring you out of that wretched place if you just said the word."
A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you wiped away tears with your trembling fingers. "You tell me that every time we have these calls. Do you not get tired of it?"
"Never," Alastor hummed. The sound of your laughter, even tinged with bitterness, momentarily lifted the heavy burden that his heart carried. "The offer will always be up, darling!"
"You know I can't, Al. Me and her have history together," your voice paused, cracking with emotion. "And I still feel guilty."
Alastor sighed heavily, frustration dancing in his eyes. He always struggled to understand why you felt indebted to Mimzy, why guilt still clung to your decisions like a persistent shadow.
To him, Mimzy deserved the consequences. Despite his constant offers to free you from her grasp, you remained steadfast in your decision to complete your contract
"Very well, dear," Alastor's smooth voice crackled through the radio, weaving a comforting presence into the air as you moved back toward your vanity, taking a seat. "Now, enough of these melancholic talks. Tell me, how was the show tonight?"
"Mimzy had me perform 'Dolly' again," you remarked, a crooked smile playing on your lips. "She's well aware that I despise that song. I mean, really? Have you ever taken a look at the lyrics? It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?"
As your frustrations spilled out, Alastor stood from his seat, staff in hand. Placing it beside his closet, he attentively listened to your words, occasionally responding with chuckles and interjections. He slipped off his monocle, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and then his vest, revealing a well-tailored red undershirt that clung to his lean frame.
"I find the cannibal's wife line rather charming," Alastor smirked, and though he couldn't see it, you rolled your eyes in response.
"Of course you'd enjoy that part," you scoffed, mirroring Alastor's movements on the other side. Shedding the bedazzled dress, you opted for more comfortable attire, draping yourself in a robe.
"What's not to like? It shows the audience that you're my darling wife," Alastor quipped with a smug tone.
"Bushwa. They don't even know it's you. And I don't think anyone thinks highly of some poor fool shackled to a gaudy singer," you snorted. With the radio in tow, you began to pack your belongings into your purse.
"Don't be ridiculous," Alastor's laugh rumbled against the speakers. "My dear, being 'shackled' to you is the most delightful form of imprisonment."
"Such a sap," you scoffed, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. Shouldering your purse, you made your way towards the door, ready to leave. However, a sudden memory of a conversation with Mimzy surfaced.
"By the way, did you know Mimzy was planning to have me perform on some talk show?" you shared with Alastor while locking the door to your dressing room. A furrow appeared on your brow as the backstage lights played with shadows, casting a pensive expression on your face. "What was it again… Oh! Yes! Box-2-Nite."
A sudden screech from the radio erupted, its harsh sound reverberating in the hallway. Luckily, no one was around at this hour, and you cringed at the unexpected disturbance. Glaring at the box, you raised your brow. "You scared the living daylights outta me."
Alastor stayed silent for a while, claws digging into the cloth of his coat, ripping the fabric. With a snap of his head to the side, he dropped it to the floor and moved toward his staff, his shadows playing on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath his feet.
"Do you perhaps mean… Vox-2-Nite?" His voice, usually smooth, carried an edge.
"Is that the name? I thought you hated telev—Oh. Ohhh..." As you ascended to the higher floors of the building, a realization swept over you.
Alastor's relationship with Vox was complicated. It didn't take a genius to see that. If the ceaseless back-and-forths on broadcasts, the turf wars that had casualties matching mass-extinction events, and the hushed gossip circulating among the other performers were anything to go by.
“Small world,” you chuckled, strolling down the hallway that led to the performers' rooms, the echo of your footsteps blending with the distant murmur of conversation. “I’m guessing I shouldn't take her up on the offer?”
"Absolutely not," Alastor practically snarled out, venom dripping from his tongue. The radio in your hand crackled and buffered, a faint golden glow emanating from the dials. "That pompous piece of shit television is nothing but a clout-chasing, mediocre host flitting between this fad and another on his little picture show podcasts."
“I know, love.” With a swift turn of a doorknob, you opened the door to your flat. "I wasn’t… planning… to…”
Your words trailed off, lingering in the air, as you entered the room. Your eyes widened in awe, captivated by the sight of a bouquet of white roses gracefully adorning your bed.
"Alastor," you spoke into the radio, your voice filled with genuine warmth. "Did you send me roses?"
Back in the hotel, Alastor, settled back into his plush couch. The fiery embers of his anger melting away like a fleeting shadow, replaced by the realization that you had discovered his gift.
A soft chuckle came from the radio, "Guilty as charged, cher. "
Your heart fluttered, and you sank onto the bed, dropping the radio on your mattress and taking the bouquet into your hands. The delicate petals felt soft against your fingers as you admired their beauty. White roses, unlike red ones, were so scarce it was difficult to get a hold of.
"Alastor, this is… wonderful," you spoke into the radio, smile so wide your cheeks almost hurt. "Why—How did you even—How did you even manage to find these?"
"Oh, I pulled a few strings," your husband grinned before chuckling, "and a few limbs too."
Your laughter intertwined with his and Alastor listened fondly, finding solace in the melody of your delight.
The day you inked that deal with Mimzy marked the onset of an agonizing pain he had never experienced before. The thought of leaving your sorrowful self under the wretched contract of that avaricious woman had incited a frenzied rage within him, leading to weeks of unbridled slaughters on the streets of hell.
The blood he spilled onto the sidewalks left a stain on the concrete that lasted months.
Fortunately for you and him, the ordeal was nearing its end. Just one more year remained until Alastor could finally reunite with you. After enduring decades of this agony, an additional year seemed like mercy.
"You like it, cher?" Alastor's voice dropped an octave lower, the satisfaction evident in his tone, pleased to bring happiness to your moment.
"Yes," you laugh, cradling the bouquet in your hands. "I like it very much."
˚୨୧₊♱
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ozzgin · 3 months
Note
Santa baby are you really there?!
*hears a voice in my backyard*
FUCK SKIN WALKER
- you make Yan skinwalker i’ll do anything to get a skin walker to love me … yes I am 100% mentally stable
I'm not sure if you had something horror-esque in mind, because my immediate idea was Reader accidentally getting cursed and continuing her life completely unaware with a ""dog"" everyone is freaked out by, but she finds it cute. So more like dark comedy vibes. You be the judge. :D
Disclaimer: I have changed the name to Shapeshifter as to not delve into potentially offensive takes on native folklore. Thank you for informing my European ass.
Yandere!Monster x Reader [Shapeshifter]
On your last hiking trip, you've stumbled upon a helpless, lost dog. Or rather, it stalked you down to your cabin and spent the night in front of your window. You didn't have the heart to abandon the poor soul and so you brought it home with you. Strange things have been happening ever since and no one knows how to tell you that the monstrous coyote-like creature might be to blame. You're oblivious to everything.
Content: female reader, dark comedy, monster romance, reader is cursed and proud
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It wasn't your intention to return home with a new pet. Some might say it was written in the stars, this fateful encounter of yours. You had finished packing your supplies for a day-long hike, vehemently refusing to join your group of friends that would be guided around by a native. They’d warned you many areas of the mountainous forest were supposedly cursed or haunted, so you just scribbled the limits on your makeshift map and promised to stay on the main trails. After all, this was your chance to commune with nature. As the sun begun to set, you wondered if going by yourself was indeed a smart idea, given your lack of spatial awareness and difficulty to navigate maps. You flipped the piece of paper several times, deep in contemplation. Could it be that you’ve reached the forbidden lands? You quickly surveyed the area: based on the stuffed rag dolls hanging from old branches, and the animal skulls arranged in patterns among patches of burnt grass, it was very much a possibility. Perhaps the improvised slab that said “Stay away” in dripping crimson letters should’ve been enough of a warning, but you assumed they’d just been creative with trail markers.
You didn’t have the time to panic. Just as you were furrowing your eyebrows in a final attempt to decipher the map (at the time upside-down), your ears picked up a faint shuffle of leaves. Further away stood a dog, its glossy eyes fixated on your form. A lost puppy? It seemed to be on the larger side, but then again some breeds grow rather fast. You lowered yourself and patted your knees, whispering diminutives in an effort to call the animal over. It remained in place, staring quietly. Alright, then. You focused on finding your way back instead. Every now and then you'd turn back and see the dog, motionlessly eyeing you at a constant distance. Oh, dear. Was it lost? Frightening affair.
Back at the cabin you told the others about your discovery, with a hint of worry in your voice. You hoped the little pup had found proper shelter. You'd expected a similar reaction coming from your friends, but one of them suggested: "What if it was some shapeshifting monster? There's many legends and stories from the area." Everyone laughed and you joined hesitantly, mildly annoyed by the lack of empathy. That night you barely slept, twisting and turning under the heavy feeling of being watched. You woke up tired and nervous, dragging your feet towards the window for some fresh air. That's when you saw the same forest creature, fully awake and tall in its glory, positioned before your room. This was no coincidence. You had been plagued by the guilt of abandoning a vulnerable quadruped and you weren't about to continue as a passive observer. You strode out without a word and lifted the large dog with a huff, carrying it back in to figure out the transport logistics.
Thus started the unexpected companionship. To you, it's a lovely tale of two lost souls finding one another. Most people seem to disagree. Can you blame them? The rescued puppy you often speak of is, in the eyes of everyone else, a monstrous beast by all definitions. It resembles a coyote more than a dog, but even this description is too gentle. The fur is always raised threateningly and the protruding clusters of fangs remind one of the anatomical anomalies displayed in museums. The eyes, oh, the worst of all perhaps, bottomless depths that pull you in until you run out of air. The creature stares with the all-knowing gaze of a human. "Don't be rude", you snap at whoever dares to point these details out. "It must be a mixed breed or something."
Their persistence is truly ridiculous. You've even had guests run out in panic, claiming the dog stood on its back legs and whispered in a language unknown. Or that its shadow would morph into a grotesque man with claws and crooked antlers. Or that they've found it hunched over your sleeping form, its spine twisted outwards with jagged peaks breaking through the wild fur. Rubbish, all of it.
Strange things have been happening, no doubt, but your adopted fur-child has no blame to carry. You've been trying to distract yourself, going on dates and occasionally bringing potential suitors over. They all vanish overnight, nonchalantly leaving an empty, ruffled bed for you to wake up to. "Am I just unlucky?" You sigh, running your fingers through the coarse fur of your dog. It lowers itself under your touch, visibly enjoying the affection. For a split second, it glances out the window. By the time you come out of your depressed slump, the birds should've finished feeding on the remains. He made sure to tear and grind everything fine enough to not leave any marks behind.
That's how curses work, after all. He didn't expect, however, that you'd be utterly unaware of it. He has to give you the credit, not many people become stalked by an ancient curse and continue their life in blissful ignorance. Even more, for them to just casually pick up the haunting entity and bring it inside their home willingly...You're, uh, certainly a special one. Hence the change of plans. He was supposed to torment you into an early grave, but he's grown rather attached to your bizarre antics. And you do provide some damn good chin scratches. He's therefore satisfied with causing anguish and destruction to anything and anyone in your immediate vicinity instead. Since you've been complaining about the resulting isolation...
You wake up with a gasp, wiping your drenched forehead and checking the sheets. The dog is curled next to you, although its head is now tilted in your direction. "O-oh. It might be the loneliness talking...but I had the strangest dream." How troubling and embarrassing. Your beloved pet had turned into a deformed, monstrous man instead, pinning you down and hungrily grazing your skin with his sharp teeth. Your fearful protests eventually turned into shameless moans, your frail body at the mercy of the mysterious beast. It unfolded so vividly that your core feels sore. You stretch a sheepish hand towards your pet and abruptly stop halfway, noticing the marks diffused into your wrist, like violet smudges of watercolor. What the hell did you do last night?
The dog buries its head under the sheets and nuzzles its snout into your soft flesh. Heh. How many more disappearing guests will be needed for you to figure out your situation? He does find your obliviousness terribly amusing, as well as your willingness to clutch onto him despite his unsightly appearance. He was feeling particularly cheeky and thought of giving you a little scare, only to be once again taken aback by your neediness. He has to wonder who exactly is trapped in this situation, because your reactions to everything he does are frighteningly tempting. Maybe tonight he'll finally let you know, just as you're about to come undone beneath his heaving body. Something like, hmmm. "By the way, love, this isn't a dream." He could even add a little "woof" to tease you more.
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steddie-as-they-come · 6 months
Text
"Mom," Steve whispered in the inky blackness of his parents' room. "Mom, there's something under my bed."
Patricia Harrington turned over. "Steven, go back to sleep," she murmured.
"I can't." Steve said. "There's a monster."
"No such thing." his mom said, angrier, more awake. "Go to bed now, and if I catch you out of bed again you can forget going to Tommy's this weekend."
Steve nodded and padded back down the hall, pausing at his door then taking a running jump into bed.
The room was silent.
"I know you're here." Steve whispered, making sure all his limbs were tucked safely away under the covers. "You don't scare me."
A couple minutes of quiet, then Steve heard a scraping sound come from under his bed. He squeaked and pulled his blankets up to his nose.
A horrible, raspy laugh came from below him. "I do scare you!" said a voice. "You lied!"
"No-no you don't!" Steve said boldly. He clutched his blanket tighter, then said, "I can't be scared of something I can't see! That's just dumb."
Something dark began to slither across the floor out of the corner of Steve's eye. Oh, I'm gonna regret that, he thought.
The thing began to pull itself up, looming over Steve. It cracked a smile, and sharp white teeth gleamed in the light from his closet.
Steve screamed.
"Shut up!" his dad shouted angrily from downstairs, and Steve clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes flicking between the shadow and the door like he wasn't sure which monster to be more afraid of.
The monster crept toward him, and Steve dug his fingernails into his face, scooting away from the horror. He whimpered, not daring to close his eyes.
Then the monster began to shrink.
It shriveled away, changing color and backing up, until a little boy, about Steve's age, stood in front of him. He had long curly hair and was dressed in a t-shirt that was way too big on him. When he opened his eyes, Steve flinched, because the whites of his eyes simply...weren't there. His eyes were an onyx black.
"Hi," the boy said. "I'm Eddie."
Steve was too stunned to speak, but he did uncover his mouth.
"I'm the monster under your bed!" Eddie said. "I'm supposed to scare you, but, um-" he risked a quick look at the door "-I don't think you need my help for that."
"Why are you supposed to scare me?" Steve asked.
Eddie shrugged. "Dunno. Every kid's got one. It's just how it works. I was made to be your monster, forever!" He sat down on the edge Steve's bed, bumping Steve's shoulder against his. "Weird to be on this side of the bed. No dust bunnies or anything."
Steve giggled, forgetting his fear. "You're fun!"
Eddie grinned at him. "Thank you! None of the other monsters think my jokes are funny."
"So you have to scare me?" Steve asked. "But you're not scary. Not after talking to me."
Eddie paused. "Oh, right. I'm not supposed to talk to you. Um..."
"What if we just say you're scaring me?" Steve asked. "I'll pretend I'm really scared of the monster under my bed, and you pretend you scare me every single night. But really we're hanging out instead of scaring!"
"Ooh, I like that idea!" Eddie struck a dramatic pose. "I'll be the monster under your bed, but I'll be ready to protect you if you need it too!"
Steve stuck out his hand like he saw his dad do for business deals. "Deal?"
Eddie shook it. "Deal."
-
Steve sprinted through the forest, the kids hot on his heels. "There!" he shouted. "Everyone in!"
The kids bolted to the abandoned cabin, and Steve slammed the door shut. "Is there a bed in here?" he called. "A couch? A fridge?"
"Bed's in here!" Will yelled, and Steve followed his voice to the cluttered bedroom, complete with partially-caved-in bedframe. He gingerly took a seat on the mattress, cringing when it crackled. He did not need to know what was on this.
"Eddie?" he called, tapping on the flaky painted wood.
The shitheads crowded in, and Mike murmured. "What the fuck is he doing?"
Steve ignored him. "Eddie, come on, I need your help."
Something tall, dark, and lanky slid out from under the bed, and all the kids jumped back in fright, raising their various weapons. Steve leapt to get in front of them, raising his hands as a shield. "Chill! Calm down, this is Eddie!"
Eddie shrank into his human form, draping himself over Steve. "You had to summon me to the nastiest bed in Indiana? Really, Steve?"
Steve shrugged. "This was the closest one. We need your help, Eds."
"We?" He focused on the Party. "Well, these must be the infamous buttheads." Eddie slid into the shadows and reappeared behind the Party, inspecting them. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, right?" he said, pointing at each one as he said their names.
"What the fuck are you?" Dustin asked.
Suddenly Eddie was under Steve's arm, wrapping a hand around his waist. "I'm Steve's monster under the bed." he said. "I'm just... friendlier with Steve than most of the monsters I work with."
Steve rolled his eyes. "You can tell him you're my boyfriend, they know I'm bi." He kissed Eddie on the cheek.
The kids all broke into gasps, except for Max, who fake gagged. "Don't be gross!" she yelled. "Demogorgon outside, remember?"
"Ah, right." Steve said. "Eds, can you-"
"On it." Eddie kissed Steve. "I'll be back."
The kids watched Eddie melt into shadows, then wheeled on Steve. "Steven Don't-Know-Your-Middle-Name Harrington," Dustin said. "You have a lot of explaining to do."
edit: i did not expect this response to the short little thing that took me 30 mins max at 2am!! i’m planning on rewriting it and turning it into a full length fic, so i’ll come back and edit this with the link!
edit #2: if there’s anything you guys want to see in the full length version of this please let me know!! i’m trying my best to make it a slowburn which is horrid for my adhd so let me know if there’s anything you want!!
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kissitbttr · 6 months
Text
a very tired miguel who gets home from work and gets babied by his woman
-
It's close to 9pm as you're lying on your bed. keeping your focus on the book you're reading, one that you failed to keep as a part of your routine due to your busy schedule with work. being a fashion designer has it's perks but it also has its dark sides too. especially when it comes to dealing with snobby ass clients
as you are about to flip to another page, you hear the front door opened. keys rattling against the ceramic bowl with a loud sigh follows after. a soft smile appears on your face soon as you realize who it is
“miguel? Is that you?” you softly call out your husband’s name while putting the book down.
"si, mi amor" he appears shortly by the doorway. your tall and handsome fiancee adorned in an unbuttoned white shirt that showcase a bit of his chest and paired with black trousers. a simple work attire but never fail to make your knees wobble. the sight could put any Greek Gods known to a man to shame.
your heart breaks a little seeing how tired he looks. his eye-bags are coming off too strong. a constant reminder on how he has been working himself far too hard despite you telling him to take it easy. but that's just how he is, stubborn.
"how's work my love?" you ask, watching him undress himself, revealing his exposed toned chest before putting the clothes away with the rest of his dirty ones in the bathroom. "I take it, it wasn't a good day?"
"you could say that" he replies tiredly, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off the chair and slipping it on. "trying to get ahold with the new recruits is a fucking job, Peter's been getting on my nerves and I'm working on advancing the technology we have right now in order for it to be easier to identify every single anomaly's DNA we've come across to. But the amount of hypotheses and research I've done are nowhere near close to how I want them to be."
"i would ask Tony Stark for help but que cabron esta muerto" he breathes out a sigh, pinching the thick skin between his brows. "I'm drained, mi amor... i can't fucking do this shit everytime--"
"no hey.. stop" you shake your head, hate having to see your man fronting a distressed look in his face. “come here, Miggy” you pout at him patting your chest for him to lay his head,
he sighs heavily. plopping into the bed and carefully lays himself on top of you. pounding head finding comfort in the warmth of your chest, snaking his big arms around your waist.
you put your arms around him, locking him tightly as your soft lips kiss his forehead making him purr.
“my pretty baby. exhausted aren't you? hm?” you ask in a cooing tone. he hums -- which sounded like a growl to you-- with a nod before nuzzling himself closer. “oh my poor poor baby... my handsome man. always working himself to the bone” another kiss on the forehead
“come up a little closer, hm?” you ask as he barely shifts his body. too lazy and far too comfortable in your arms like this for him to move.
you run your fingers through his soft hair, moving a piece that’s covering his forehead. looking down to see him close his eyes, yet not sleeping.
it’s so funny to see how this freakishly large- broad man who always seems to bring a cold presence that scares everyone off at work—which is technically true— then turns into a huge softie and a love puddle for you in a split seconds.
it’s truly a privilege that you’re the only one who gets to see and feel this
“look how cute you are, baby… do you know how cute you are, hm?” you coo at him, lips kissing his nose and the sharpness of his cheekbone. trying your best to console him in hopes of washing his stress away.
he lightly shakes his head. “no” a curt reply rolls of his mouth, drawing your body closer to him if that's even possible.
you pretend to gasp dramatically at his answer. fingers still stroking his hair lightly. “you don’t?! oh no! we have to fix that! you’re the cutest *kiss* most handsome *kiss* hardworking *kiss* man I’ve ever known” showering him with compliments in between kisses. he breathes out a small chuckle that muffles against your chest.
it’s obvious that miguel rarely gets treatments like this, he’s no one to shy from things but you're his only exception. the only person who truly can get him blush like a little kid when he's shown the slightest bit of affection.
“who’s baby are you hm? are you my baby?” a smile graces your lips as your eyes casting down to his pretty features.
“me. I’m your baby” he mumbles, tightening his grip around you. "always be your baby"
-
inspired by @webslingingslasher their frat!peter work yall is making me [REDACTED] please go take a look!!
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astonmartinii · 5 months
Text
nonsense... or is it? | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem singer!reader
face claim: sabrina carpenter
based on this request: sooo, anyways,,, i was thinking maybe a smau where Charles is playing the guy who Milo was and this obviously breaks the internet even more and this leads to them dating ??? idk, just like a really wholesome one where she was his celebrity crush and now they're dating bc of them getting know each other more bc of the music video. sorry if this is all over the place but yeah. - @whoreks
MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI?
yourusername
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liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,200,441 others
yourusername: holla babes !!! the feather music video is heading your way fast xxx if only my real boyfriends were like my music videos ones ...
view all comments
user1: MOTHER
user2: finally music videos are back baby !!
taylorswift: you can still make the whole place shimmer ✨
yourusername: thanks to you baby
user3: oh to be able to call taylor swift baby
user4: y/n's shade is so underrated - i too wish her boyfriends were as good as her mv ones
user5: she's got such a good eye for casting why can't she do this in her actual love life
user6: okay but he's hot based off a single shoulder i'm excited
user7: you got that from a SHOULDER?
user8: he's TALL?
user9: babe y/n is like 4'2 she makes everyone look tall
user10: say what you want about the catholic church, they got the aesthetic down pat
yourbff1: so we aren't asking the mv boyf out? boring.
yourusername: we have lil things called phones? USE IT HOE
user11: charles leclerc in the likes
user12: so true of him
user13: unless he's... the guy
user14: babe he's way too short lol
user15: have yall seen the sky ad? baby aint acting any time soon
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yourusername
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liked by yourbff1, charles_leclerc and 1,763,550 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: OMG you guys blew the feather music video up !! i'm sure it had nothing to do with this random guy i found off the street? jokes, thank you charles for being the perf mv boyf xx
view all comments
user17: HOLY FUCKING SHIT
user18: celeb crush inception no one touch me
charles_leclerc: thank you for my music video debut, maybe you can return the favour one day?
yourusername: i'll return any favour you want
yourbff1: dial down the desperation babe
charles_leclerc: what if i want her to dial it up please?
yourbff1: do NOT encourage her
yourusername: please encourage me :)
user19: Y/N STAND UP PLEASE
user20: actually y/n is so real have yall seen that man YUM
liked by yourusername
user21: y/n is a genius for fancasting her future bf in her music video
danielricciardo: THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT? SHARL WHEN I CATCH YOU
pierregasly: and me :( i thought our friendship meant more ....
charles_leclerc: it was a secret
yourusername: he doesn't kiss and tell xoxo
alexalbon: WHAT ??????
charles_leclerc: okay we can stop joking now
yourusername: fine...
user22: the way charles was defo typing that through tears
user23: y/n make the move we believe in you
user24: believe in her? she can get anyone she wants he's gotta STEP UP
charles_leclerc
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 2,099,441 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: had a blast filming for my first ever music video, thank you y/n !!
view all comments
user25: i'm feeling a new unhealthy attachment forming
yourusername: feel free to come back any time soon
charles_leclerc: or maybe you can come to me?
yourusername: is this my paddock debut?
charles_leclerc: make sure you're wearing red and it sure can be
yourusername: let me check the wardrobe
user26: i will pass away if we get y/n at a race... in the ferrari garage ???
pierregasly: let it be known i am still angry that you didn't tell me, especially after all the weird rants i've listened to
alexalbon: me too
georgerussell63: me too
landonorris: me too
danielricciardo: me too
carlossainz55: me too
maxverstappen1: me too
charles_leclerc: why is max here?
maxverstappen1: that's what you're taking from this?
charles_leclerc: yeah why are you in my business
maxverstappen1: you make it my business you talk about her all the time
yourusername: oh really ???
charles_leclerc: HE'S A BIG FAT LIAR HE'S ALWAYS BEEN A BIG FAT LIAR ALL HIS LIFE INCLUDING WHEN I MAYBE ACCIDENTALLY PUSHED HIM IN A PUDDLE
maxverstappen1: YOU DID PUSH ME IN THAT PUDDLE
yourusername: what is going on here?
user27: poor y/n being thrown into the grid drama
user28: poor charles with the grid trying to expose him
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,334,661 others
yourusername: clearly was feeling myself this week
view all comments
user31: lol why is max here
maxverstappen1: doing my due diligence as an investigative journalist
charles_leclerc: choke.
user32: is that charles? are we in the soft launch?
user33: let's not get ahead of ourselves, we know charles doesn't dress that well
user34: consider this: girlfriend effect
user35: girlfriend effect is gonna have to do some heavy lifting when it comes to charles' wardrobe
yourbff1: you think you're so slick don't you
yourusername: maybe. maybe not?
yourbff1: you're so annoying
yourusername: annoyingly cute?
liked by charles_leclerc
yourbff1: keep your nose out of women's business leclerc
charles_leclerc: SLANDER
user36: i mean they seem to have the same sense of humour
user37: not to sound insane but they are perfect for each other and i will be passing away if they are not together
pierregasly: interesting
danielricciardo: add it to the folder
charles_leclerc: folder ???
maxverstappen1: leave us journalists be
charles_leclerc: can you even read?
yourusername: GET HER JADE
maxverstappen1: add that as well
charles_leclerc: why can't we win?
user38: what is going on in the house of commons
charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 2,331,663 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: i don't believe in soft launches
view all comments
user39: we been knew... but OMG PARENTS
user40: i am crying they're so hot
yourusername: hawt bf obtained
charles_leclerc: sexy gf in my inventory
yourusername: you're such a cute patootie
charles_leclerc: i cannot speak my mind or instagram will censor me
yourusername: ...oop hurry up and come back :(
charles_leclerc: about to break all US speeding laws xoxo
yourusername: not you in your charli xcx era
user41: he's with her ... in the US ... could we get y/n paddock debut in vegas ???
user42: would only be right i fear
user43: the scheduling just about makes sense before she has to go back to opening for taylor in south america
user44: now why did vegas not get in their bag and get y/n to perform at the opening ceremony?
pierregasly: way to ruin the investigation
danielricciardo: yeah we were in our sherlock holmes era
maxverstappen1: have to spoil everything don't you charles 🤨
charles_leclerc: i thought you guys wanted to know who my girlfriend is?
alexalbon: yes, but we wanted to expose it :(
yourusername: CORNY
pierregasly: oh no. he has someone on his side now
yourusername: damn right frenchie. i can hear your asshole twitching from here
pierregasly: WHAT ???
charles_leclerc: idk what that means but YEAH PIERRE TAKE THAT
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charles_leclerc
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 2,114,762 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: gutted not to be on the top step but an overall great weekend in vegas. glad to have y/n by my side this weekend before she's off again to slay the stage xx
view all comments
user48: charles unironically using the word slay, the girlfriend effect knows no bounds
user49: the sky camera zooming in on y/n watching the podium
user50: i think we watched her fall in love in real time
user51: i mean look at the material... podium charles hits so different i think I FELL IN LOVE
yourusername: you're a winner to me babe
charles_leclerc: and that's all that matters
yourusername: NOPE STAY HUNGRY GET THEM POINTS AND DESTROY THE REST OF THE FIELD
charles_leclerc: okay :)
yourusername: good boy
pierregasly: never say that in public again
maxverstappen1: is this why he's blushing so much in the press conference?
charles_leclerc: NO. NO REASON
yourusername: you sure?
charles_leclerc: i am the unluckiest driver ever and am screwed over at every turn sue me if i like a lil praise
user52: charles is so real for that i also want y/n to tell me i'm doing a good job
alexalbon: enough time has passed. @yourusername can lily get some extra tickets for the eras tour
yourusername: of course. anything for my new bestie
lilymunhe: thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuu. charles you have amazing taste
charles_leclerc: i know :)
yourusername: i mean i got you, so who's the real winner here?
yourusername
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liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,667,982 others
tagged: charles_leclerc & taylorswift
yourusername: my leg of the eras tour has come to an end :( this was such an insane opportunity, thank you so much taylor xx but this also means i can go annoy charlie until he has to go back to work !!
one last nonsense outro:
i met this lovely boy named charlie,
he races round the world for ferrari,
giving it to me everyday like ari
view all comments
user53: i think y/n might actually be winning in life
user54: is she referencing everyday by ariana grande which is literally just a song about having constant sex?
yourusername: yes and what about it? f1 drivers have great stamina
arthurleclerc: DELETE ASAP
yourusername: no can do baby leclerc
user55: fave outro for real
charles_leclerc: i am blushing !!
pierregasly: she just told millions of people all you do is fuck and now you're blushing ???
yourusername: i don't think mr doggy emoji is talking right now
charles_leclerc: at least y/n did it in an artful way
pierregasly: believe me i know YOU WON'T STOP SINGING IT DOWN THE PHONE YOU MENACE
yourusername: you sing my songs :) ?
carlossainz55: ALL THE TIME
yourusername: i don't like your tone mr 🤨
charles_leclerc: i am just showing my love :(
yourusername: @pierregasly @carlossainz55 you made him sad APOLOGIZE IMMEDIATELY
pierregasly: sorry?
carlossainz55: sorry i guess?
charles_leclerc: thank you :) i shall continue to sing to my heart's content
yourusername: good.
taylorswift: you were amazing !! i'll see you soon my love xx
yourusername: i'm hearing double date ??
taylorswift: i'm sure that can be arranged
charles_leclerc: OMG
user56: charles and travis are really the top tier himbo bfs and i love them for that
fin.
note: i really loved writing this so i hope this was everything you imagined and more!! i'm just getting into sabrina's music but i was a girl meets world stan so... i hope i did the nonsense outro justice xxx
3K notes · View notes
kosije · 8 months
Text
sins in silk
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c/w ★ ׂ duke!miguel ohara x princess!reader, they are from different kingdoms, mentioned age-gap, forbidden love aspect, pregnancy kink, mentions of masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual head, fingering, size kink, art cred: kammie_arts1903
"Princess, the Grand Duke is here. May I bring him in?"
"Show him to the study for now. Tell him I will be right out. Be sure to thank the Grand Duke for his patience."
"Yes, Princess."
"Oh, Will?"
"Yes, Princess?"
"After you inform the Duke, please excuse everyone to their chambers, yes?"
"But princess, you know if the king found out we had left your side, even with the Grand Duke we could lose our-"
"I will not let that happen. So please, Will, do this for me."
All though apprehensive, your servant bows and disappears from your room, in long strides to the Duke.
It's the 5th time this month he has come to the estate. Always with the intention to see the King and ruminate. And despite him being so much older than you, your father's closest friend and strongest connection to the 2099 kingdom, and is only to wed a woman from his territory, each time he has come has left you tangling a hand in your silk sheets, hushed cries of the Duke's name left to fall from your wet lips in a silent plea.
Every time he drops by unannounced, talks to your father, and leaves. Every time he has his salt and pepper sprinkled brown hair combed back away from his face, showing the wrinkles on his forehead. Every time his eyes have focused on you, running over you like the pretty oil portrait that hangs above the study's mantle as his jaw flexes brows furrow, something in you ignites and the yearning becomes almost palpable.
Never does he say more to you than a few words, only acknowledging you after with how his body tenses when you're around. He runs as cold as the marble under your feet as you move to your vanity to reapply your perfume and shift your dress to expose enough of your collarbone without looking intentional. You're buzzing at the thought of seeing him, taking the rollers out of your hair with bubbling anticipation. This is the first time he's come amidst nightfall and the first time you two will be alone. With your hands resting to your front, you walk to the study well aware of how low your neckline is dipping while high pillared walls with paintings of cherubs and past battles trail you illuminated by ivory candles.
When you push past tall burgundy doors, you're greeted by the sight of Grand Duke of 2099, Miguel O'hara, who's stretching his back with two large hands on his hips. The deep groan he lets out makes your skin flush, and when his cold gaze meets yours you almost shiver. His eyes drift from your face to just right where your dress exposes a bit of the fat on your breast, and you smile when you hear him suck in a breath.
"What do I owe the pleasure, Your Grace?" His eyes tear from your chest as he focuses on the crackling fireplace.
"Just here to see your father, is he near?" He asks, brown eyes fixing back onto yours. Your smile only widens.
"I'm afraid the King is away, but he should be returning soon, you are more than welcome to stay 'till his return."
"I shouldn't-"
"Humor me, Your Grace. After all, I am a bit lonely without my father to talk to." you say, batting your eyelashes at him bashfully.
Apprehension is so clear on his face, but still he nods, straightening his white button up and waiting for you to go on.
"Follow me," you say, walking back down the hall until you reach your room.
"Princessa, I will not go further, this is inappropriate. A young lady shouldn-"
"'M not as young as I was before. Surely you can agree, no?"
"Even so," He coughs. "That is not the point-"
"You should have no trouble entering. I have already given my permission."
He doesn't look convinced.
"Do you not trust me? Have I done wrong by you?"
"That is not it, Princessa-"
"Then please, my duke, time is slipping right past us." you whisper, slipping through the doors, intentionally brushing your hand across his thigh. You grin when you hear his shaky breath, and hear your door not only close, but lock.
"What is it that you have here that we couldn't be anywhere else for?"
"Are you putting on an act," you ask him, turning around to face him still at a distance. "Or are you truly this aloof, Your Grace?'
"I’m sorry?-"
"I have a confession," you say. walking closer and closer until his breath is caught in his throat, and your lips are just a nudge away from his.
"My father won't be returning anytime soon." And suddenly, it seems it has clicked in his head, as his eyes darken.
"This can not happen."
"You're right," your hand is pressed up against his chest.
"Someone could hear us," He whispers, making no effort to push you away.
"I've already dismissed everyone to their chambers."
"If your father ever found out there could be a war," he tries to argue, but his head is still dipping down, ghosting over your lips.
"We have all night to just the two of us."
And just a second after saying that, he kisses you. His lips are hot, hungry, and experienced in the way they move against yours, swallowing your every breath. His hands find your waist, but he hesitates and you can tell he hasn't given in completely. And something about that excites you.
You pull away from his lips, leaving him noticeably confused until your hand reaches down and palms his cock, happy at the way he's already hard.
"Do you know just how long I've been wanting this?" You ask shifting him around you.
He doesn't say anything, only shakes his head "No."
"Ever since the day you came back to visit, I haven't been able to think of anything else." When you push him down on the edge of your bed, he shivers when you drop to your knees and play with the button on his slacks.
"Every night, I touch myself on these sheets to the thought of you." You confess, finally free him from his pants, leaving him in the thin fabric of his underwear, painfully soaking up the front of them with his pre.
"Princessa," He finally says in almost a whine. "If you say things like that I'm afraid I won't be able to hold back."
And dipping your hand under his waistband to grip his cock, you savor how thick and heavy he feels and the groan he lets out with a kiss to his base. You can't deny the bit of worry that flushes through you when you see just how big he is. Thick beads of cum pulse out of him that you lick up hungrily, humming at how you can feel hus veins on your tongue.
"Then please, Your Grace. Give me everything."
That seems to shatter his self control, because suddenly he has a hand in your hair and a hand on his cock as he forces your lips over his angry brown head.
"You're such a damn tease, you know that?" He gritts out, bullying his cock all the way to the back of your throat and then some. You gag and choke around him, already feeling your throat burn and eyes well up.
"Always coming around me with your father with your body on display in those cute little gowns, batting those pretty little eyes at me when you talk. What would your father think if he knew all of that was because you were trying to get my attention?" He coos between groans while using your face like just a vessel to get off, and your cunt starts dripping. "Just so I could fuck your pretty mouth like this?"
You can't do anything but moan around him, croaking out gasp when he finally lets you catch your breath before immediately pulling you back down onto his dick rapidly as snot mixes in with tears, spit, and cum starts to drip down your jaw and onto your floor. He begins to unbutton his shirt, before tearing it off completely, leaving buttons to fly across your room. Looking up through teary eyes you take in the way his usually combed back hair sticks to his sweaty forehead messily, as his abs tense and relax with every rapid breath as his mouth lulls open with lidded eyes, moaning when he sees just how well you swallow him.
Swiftly, you run your tongue over the slit of his cock, hearing him whine, and feeling the grip on your hair tighten enough to burn your scalp. Your throat aches with every heavy thrust that only spurs on the throbbing between your thighs as your hands play with his balls and he stutters in your mouth, shooting his seed down your throat, midst mumbling praises.
Without word or warning, he flips you over, effectively pinning you down to your bed once he's come down from his high. His large calloused hand runs up and down your thigh before tossing your nightgown up, and he groans at the sigh.
"You needed me so bad you didn't wear anything under this frilly thing? What a filthy girl." He grins, slapping your dripping cunt and drinking up your moan in a kiss.
"Your Grace,"
"That's not what you should be calling me." He grits, crouching down to his knees to lick a stripe up your throbbing pussy.
"M-miguel,"
"Yes, Princessa?"
"Please."
"Please what, Princessa?" He says, licking another stripe, but slower.
"Please...don't tease me." You whimper, muffling your moans with the back of your hand.
"And what shall I do instead?"
"Kiss me harder, please. I need it, Mig-" and your sentence is cut off by the feeling of his nose kissing your clit as he buries his face into your sopping heat, groaning at the way you suck his tongue in. You're writhing at the feeling, but when you feel one of his calloused fingers push through you, you lose your vision for a second.
"Fuck- you're even tighter than I thought you were," he groans, and you feel your body ignite at his admission.
"You'd think of me?" You ask with such a worn out voice, Miguel's hips buck up in search of any friction at all.
"All the damn time. Would fuck my hand everyday over those pretty eyes and lips, imagine how pretty you'd look all happy and spent, with the image of my love spilling out of you." He confesses, speeding his assault on your hole, hitting spots with his fingers you could only dream of, before latching his mouth back on and fucking you with his tongue and fingers. The arousal in you was rushing through you like a wave and just after a strangled moan it blows out of you in pleasurable burst that leave you flushed. He hungrily drinks you up like a starved man until you're whining from the sensation.
When he rises from the floor he doesn't bother wiping your slick from his mouth, only laughs at your fucked out expression, and runs his lips over yours, amused by how you trail after him. Annoyed, you wrap your hands around his collar and pull his lips onto yours, gasping and licking into his mouth. Between the taste of you on his tongue, his rock-hard cock rubbing against your puffy folds as your hands run through his sweaty hair.
"Gonna give me one more?" He asks, voice low like gravel.
"I'll do anything for you, Miguel. Anything you want."
He kisses you again, a passionate thing as you both whine at the feeling of him bullying into you.
"'Ts too big, Mig- oh! S-slow down!" You cry, but his hand slaps the fat of your thigh and grips it, hitting you even deeper at a fast pace. The pain is still there, but feeling of pleasure is much more intense. And it only skyrockets when you hear his voice.
"Sshhh sweetheart. You're-fuck-already taking me so well. so damn tight around me. Be good and take what I give you. So I c-can tell your father what a nice cunt his perfect little girl has." He rasps, pounding you even deeper than before, and your nails dig up the fabric of your sheets, leaving fabric frayed in long scratches. One hand grips your thigh as the other moves up your dress to tweak and grope your breast, making you clench down around him. He drawls out a curse as his head falls into the crook of your neck, inhaling the smell of your sweat and perfume that makes him impossibly more needy to where he's plowing through you in quick hard strokes that move your bed to knock against your walls, shaking the shelf above you.
His teeth sink into your neck, almost as a mark of ownership, before sucking a bruise into your skin, continuing his markings lower and lower to focus them on your breast. Your back arches at the sting and you cry out at the imposing feeling building up inside you.
"Such a pretty girl," he says, leaning over to look you in your eyes, studying the gaping of your mouth and tugging on your brows as your orgasm builds up. His eyes are trained on you, as he throbs inside you, stimulating you further.
"I'm close-" you whimper, voice cracking as he licks a stripe up your neck.
"Yeah?" He asks, smirk practically audible as he hums in your ear. "Do it. Squeeze me, sweetheart."
It only takes a few heavy strokes to hit your sweet spot before you are gushing around him, making his thrust sporadic and moans louder.
"Yes-shit- let me fill you up. I'll give you an heir, and then I'll-hah- fuck you again, and again, and again."
"Yesyesyes, please." You think you exclaim, but can't tell if you said it out loud or just in your head because of how overestimated you are. His hand rubs circles on your clit, and your toes curl as your heels dig into the muscle of his back.
"Fuck- I'm gonna-" He spits out, just before spilling his seed into your cunt, carefully riding out his orgasm inside you while pushing his cum deeper into your womb. His palm stretches over the expanse of your chest as he leans down to kiss just above your belly button. The room is quiet now that he is still inside you, and you watch Miguel lean down to kiss you once more, in the form of a soft peck to your swollen lips. Once he pulls back, he leaves you briefly before returning with a warm damp cloth that he wipes you down with. Once he is done, he discards it into a bucket and lies himself down next to you.
"If we continue to do this," he says, carefully pulling out of you. "We will eventually have to tell your father."
"You're right," you whisper scared, but when you feel his strong arm pull you flush against his chest, hope surges through you and you bury your face into his warm body.
"We'll need to get up early, the maids would appreciate finding us like this."
"We'll be fine. After all, a pregnancy will shock them far more than this."
"I'm sure it will," he laughs, kissing your forehead.
Since envelops the two of you, as you notice his breathing deepen.
"Your, Grace-"
"Miguel," he corrects, eyes dancing across your face with a small smile.
"Miguel, my father will be gone on the next full moon."
"The next full moon, huh?" He asks no one at all, pushing your hair behind your ear.
It’s bittersweet asking him to sneak around with you again. And yet, all he says is a simple "Okay," placing a kiss to the palm of your hand, and you understand what the gesture is:
A promise.
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sweetlemontart · 4 months
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nocturnal | choi seungcheol [M]
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summary ⇾ tipsy from after-work drinks, seungcheol returns home on friday night to find you asleep. he tries not to look, but his wandering eyes keep drifting over to your slumbering figure, and he knows rest won’t come easy when you seem to be tempting him even in your sleep. seungcheol could resolve his little predicament all by himself, but shouldn’t you be the one to take responsibility for making him feel this way?  
PAIRING // choi seungcheol x fem!reader
GENRE // some fluff, mostly smut, pwp (i mean it, I'm warning u), sub!reader, dom!seungcheol, fiancé!seungcheol
WARNING // 18+, explicit sexual content, established relationship, unprotected sex, somnophilia, consensual voyeurism, male masturbation, slight size kink, oral (m&f receiving), creampie, fingering (f receiving), edging, choking, thigh riding, talks about having kids, cheol is a teasing little sh*t
WORD COUNT // 13k
AUTHOR’S NOTE // 13k of just smut lol btw have yall seen GDA cheol? the all black fit and rolled up sleeves and the dark hair... moving on, happy new year to everyone who reads this, may 2024 bring us endless happiness and love ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅ do reblog if u enjoy this fic. I'm working on a wonwoo fic that has ten times more plot than this so pls stay tuned for that :) song rec is rock your body - clara la san
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You're already in bed when your fiancé returns home from work, drifting in and out of sleep, wanting to wait for him to come home but unable to fight your weariness. Friday is always the busiest day at work, and the idea of being able to stay in bed until noon the next day only makes you want to wait up for him even more.
Seungcheol must think you're already asleep. It's reasonable that he thinks that way—you're a light sleeper and often go to bed early. He tries his best to stay quiet as he moves around. You had barely heard him enter the apartment, and only faint thuds of his sock-clad feet can be heard as he meanders around the house. 
When Seungcheol enters the bedroom, he's a little sceptical as to why the bedside lamp is still on, casting a dim, yellow glow across the room. His eyes search for you, finding you cocooned under the covers, lying on your left side with your back turned to him. He knows you can't sleep with any light on, but he deduces you must've been waiting for him and inevitably succumbed to sleep. 
Seungcheol moves toward the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom. He's slightly tipsy from downing a few beers with his co-workers after work. He feels light on his feet, and his once-gelled hair is no longer slicked back, some unruly strands now falling over his forehead. He hears you shift on the bed as he loosens his tie, but he doesn't think much of it, proceeding to unbutton his dress shirt.
Two buttons in, he hears movement from the bed again, and this time, he looks in your direction in the mirror, taken aback when his eyes meet your bleary ones. He turns his head to look at you, his mouth curling into a lazy smile. "I thought you were asleep," he says in a low voice. 
You say nothing, propping your elbow up on your pillow and leaning your head against it to get a better look at your fiancé. He turns back to the mirror, and you notice the rosy tint colouring his cheeks. You sigh dreamily, admiring him from the bed. Seungcheol is tall—that much is obvious—but those dress pants do his legs wonder. 
When he reaches for his belt, you can't help but stare. His dress shirt is still tucked into the pants, the first few buttons open, baring the soft skin of his chest. Your eyes wander, and you think Seungcheol does notice. The man does not miss a thing when it comes to you. 
The sound of his belt unbuckling makes your legs curl closer to your body, and Seungcheol definitely notices this time because he stops his movement, fingers hovering over the button of his pants. When he turns on his heels, your eyes finally snap back up to look at his face. He doesn't say anything as he approaches, coming to a stop beside the bed, towering over you.
He reaches one hand out to caress your cheek with the back of his fingers. It's a feathery touch, and your eyes naturally flutter close, head tilting into his touch just the slightest. Gentle fingers thread into your hair, brushing it back and tucking loose strands behind your ear.
Your eyes snap open when you feel his thumb against your bottom lip. At first, it's harmless, and he's only dragging the pad of his thumb across your lip, but then he starts to dip further into your mouth. He lets out a soft sigh when your lips part, allowing his thumb to rest against your tongue. Then, your mouth wraps around his finger, suckling at it softly, and his breath catches in his throat when he feels just how warm and wet your mouth is.
It's over before you want it to be. Seungcheol smiles a little too innocently, removing his thumb from your mouth and patting your cheek. "Get some rest, baby. I'm going to take a quick shower."
You don't stop him as he walks into the en suite bathroom, surprised that he hadn't immediately taken his clothes off and taken you right then and there. Seungcheol's self-control has always been immaculate when it comes to sex, but refusing to do it on a Friday night when neither he nor you have work tomorrow morning? You chalk it up to his exhaustion after working overtime, so you lie back in bed, eyes refusing to close even though your body is screaming at you to rest.
Seungcheol emerges from the bathroom not even a minute later, shirtless, belt discarded, pants unbuttoned. He takes off his silver Rolex, carefully setting it down on the bedside table near his side of the bed—as always. To your disappointment, he doesn't spare you even a glance before walking back into the bathroom.
You find yourself sighing, anticipating what seems to be an uneventful Friday night. You and Seungcheol usually spend Friday nights together— going out for dinner or unwinding with a movie on the couch. But if your lover is too tired to do anything other than sleep, you understand. You also have days when you feel too drained to do anything other than lie in bed and mull over your thoughts. Besides, it isn't like you don't have the entire weekend to make up for it—hell, you have your whole life to make up for it. 
Seungcheol leaves the bathroom door open behind him. It's not strange for either of you to keep the bathroom door open while showering. Privacy isn't much of an issue for both of you. 
You fall back asleep relatively quickly, not thinking much about the fact that the shower hasn't started running even though Seungcheol has been in the bathroom for at least five minutes.
You awaken again soon enough to the sound of soft sighs and some rustling from the direction of the couch placed near the bedroom door. At first, you try to ignore it, thinking Seungcheol might just be getting himself ready for bed. Then another sigh follows, and you peek an eye open to take a quick look. What you think will be a quick look turns into so much more. 
Your beloved fiancé sits with his legs spread on the white couch, still shirtless and wearing his dress pants. This time, however, his boxer has been pushed down just slightly, and he's lazily stroking his cock in his hand, his other arm splayed across the backrest of the couch. His skin is pale and milky, glowing in the golden light. He smiles when you prop yourself on your elbow, blinking blearily as if trying to comprehend what you are currently seeing.
He's rock hard, shaft glistening with pre-cum. You and Seungcheol have always loved trying new things in bed, pushing yourself to the limit, testing just how far each of you will go before you tap out. But this... the thought that Seungcheol was touching himself to the sight of you asleep—it stirs something in you. You've always loved waking up with Seungcheol's cock inside you. The drag of his cock feels especially good when you're still drowsy, trying to pull yourself together but failing each time because your lover just feels so good inside you. But this is different.
Seungcheol's hand speeds up, and the way he groans makes you lose your train of thought. The silver ring sits snugly on his little finger—the coolness of it must feel so good on his cock. You don't break eye contact, shifting onto your stomach and folding your arms underneath your head as you watch him. You wouldn't be able to look away even if you wanted to.
Seungcheol grits his jaw when he sees you smile. It's the last thing he expects. You look so sweet, and he starts to wonder about the sight he would be met with if he were to pull the covers away from your body. Are you wearing the sheer nightgown he always loves seeing on you? Or maybe you're wearing nothing, and he'd be able to spread your legs apart and slip himself right into the warmth of your needy cunt.
Seungcheol straightens his posture just a little, cock twitching in his hold at the sight of your smile. You look so at ease, enjoying this more than he had anticipated. He was half expecting to get an earful from you, thinking you would probably scold him for his bizarre behaviour, but this, he wasn't expecting at all, and that makes his cock harden, balls tightening almost painfully. Seungcheol feels as though he's about to burst from the inside. Your smile—as if you're taunting him, teasing him.
"Fuck, fuck..." he breathes out, head tilting back, eyes closing, savouring the feeling of his rough, calloused hand moving up and down his cock. The fact that you're most likely still watching him makes his abs tense up, trying to hold back from finishing too fast. It has barely been ten minutes since he started, but the sight of your smile feels like it's burned into the back of his eyelids. It makes his brain go haywire.
He risks another look at you and immediately realises he has made a grave mistake. Instantly, he's cumming hard, unable to hold himself back because you're looking at him so prettily—slow blinks and a sleepy smile. A loud groan rips from Seungcheol's chest, fist wrapped around the tip of his cock, stroking it just barely, trying to milk everything out. His cum trickles down his knuckles, down his shaft.
The intensity of your gaze, fixed squarely on his leaking cock, spurs Seungcheol to stand up. He rids himself off his dress pants and boxers, using the latter to wipe off most of his release before walking closer to you. Seungcheol stops on the side of the bed, stroking his softening cock almost languidly. He doesn't have to say anything, and you're already sitting up against the headboard, reaching a hand to grab at his wrist to pull him even closer. Seungcheol perches one knee on the bed, watching as you lick your lips at the sight of his cum. You're still fucking smiling, and he feels himself growing hard again.
"Enjoyed that, did we?" he says quietly, trying not to break the peace and quiet too much in case you feel like going back to sleep after his little 'show'. 
"Very much," you reply, voice slightly scratchy from sleep. 
Seungcheol is so thick everywhere, and it makes you dizzy. Your eyes roam over his chest, bulky arms, and firm thighs. Your lover has always been strong and filled in all the right places, and you love it. He has no problem picking you up, tossing you around, manhandling you into different positions. He doesn't struggle with keeping you steady when he's fucking you against the wall or any other surface.
You brush aside his hand from his cock, tongue lolling out to lick at the excess cum on his knuckles, cleaning it off his skin. The salty, bitter taste floods your tongue, and you immediately take him into your mouth. Seungcheol hisses when you do, loving the way your mouth envelopes him. You don't waste any time trying to take all of him in, mouth stretching almost painfully around the heavy girth that's starting to harden again, your thighs pressing together to get some friction. You must look pitiful to Seungcheol, trying to fit all of him in your mouth in your sleepy state, hips shifting slightly on the bed, trying to get some relief.
Breathing in, you look up—right into his eyes—before moving forward until the tip of your nose presses into his lower stomach. He breathes out a chuckle when you gag, throat constricting around his cock. Your eyes fill with tears, but you don't pull away until you're sputtering and the droplets of tears trickle down your cheeks. Seungcheol's quick to cup your jaw, thumb brushing against the pearling teardrops on your cheek. "Easy, baby... I know you're tired. Don't force it..."
Hearing Seungcheol's instructions, you stick to shallow motions, using your hand to stroke the rest of his length you can't fit in your mouth. Seungcheol's hip jerks forward a little when you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock, tracing the veins and circling the tip. Seungcheol mumbles an apology as he weaves a hand through your hair and starts to thrust his hips forward little by little, lost in the feeling of your mouth.
His cock glistens with your spit in the low light, and your eyes fall shut naturally, basking in the quiet noises Seungcheol is making. He doesn't force you to take all of him, pulling his hips back before the tip of his cock can reach your throat. You appreciate his sentiment, even if you feel awake enough to take whatever he gives you. 
Your eyes snap open when you feel the cold air against your bare legs. Seungcheol has yanked the blanket away from your body and is now peering down at your exposed form, clad in his grey shirt and a pair of white panties. Your panties are nothing special, but Seungcheol feels his cock twitch in your mouth when he sees the wet patch on the crotch of your underwear.
He can feel the vibration of your moan against his cock when his finger grazes over the damp spot on your panties. He can't resist using the tips of his fingers to rub over your clothed pussy, teasing up and down the slit, watching the way the drenched fabric sticks to your dripping cunt—thoroughly soaked and ruined before he has even done anything to you. 
When you pull away from his cock momentarily to take a much-needed breath, Seungcheol immediately leans down to capture your lips with his in a bruising kiss. He swallows all your moans, rolling his tongue over yours, dragging it against your lower lip. He doesn't pull away, even as he tugs the crotch of your panties to the side and starts to circle your clit with his fingers, which makes your legs snap shut, trapping his hand in between.
Seungcheol pulls away from the kiss, glancing down at his trapped hand before looking back at you almost expectedly. "Open," he commands. You don't need to be told twice, immediately parting your legs.
"Good girl..."
Seungcheol prods at your hole with two fingers, slipping both in only halfway. They slide in easily, slick from the wetness seeping out of your pulsing hole and the remnants of precum messily smeared all over his cock as he was jerking himself off.
"You got this wet from watching me? Or were you touching yourself before I got home?" Seungcheol grunts, gazing down at the way your pussy is fluttering around his fingers. The squelching sound is obscene, resounding throughout the bedroom. "Messy little thing..." he mumbles quietly, lost in thought as he lets his fingers dip into you right down to the knuckle. 
You gasp, pulling your mouth away from his cock to look up at his face. Seungcheol doesn't meet your eyes, seemingly entranced by the sight of his fingers between your legs. Bending one of your knees, you spread your legs wider. After dating Seungcheol for two years and being engaged for one and a half, you don't feel the need to hide from him nor the embarrassment of presenting yourself to him like you're his to own and use as he pleases. In all honesty, he possesses every part of you—your heart, your soul, every inch of your body. He is yours as much as you are his. 
When Seungcheol adds a third finger, he finally looks back at your face, not wanting to miss how your eyebrows furrow and mouth gape open at the tight fit. His fingers are thick—much more so than yours—but his cock is even more so, and he definitely needs to stretch you out to get you ready, or he will risk hurting you. There are occassions when a little bit of pain is most welcome, but tonight, his main objective is to give you pleasure.
With a trembling hand, you reach up to grasp at his cock, stroking him slowly, matching the pace of his fingers as they dip in and out of you. You know you won't be able to use your mouth properly, not when he's touching you so earnestly and looking down at you as though he hasn't ever seen you in such a position in your years of being together. 
"You touch yourself before I came home, sweetheart?"
You're quick to shake your head, slumping further down the headboard as he continues to play with your pussy. "No..." you whimper, jolting when he suddenly curls his fingers, tips of his fingers firmly pressing up against the spongy spot inside you that sends a current of pleasure darting up your spine. "I got so wet from watching you, Cheol," you sigh out, hips canting up to match the movement of his hand. "I love watching you..."
Seungcheol hums, grinning down at you, pleased with your response. "Aw, my baby always loves watching me, isn't that right?" 
His free hand envelopes the hand around his cock, urging you to keep stroking him. The ring on his middle finger glints in the light—it's the ring you gave him a week after his proposal. It serves as a reminder that no one else but him has the privilege to have you like this. No one else will ever get to touch you, kiss you, make love to you, and fuck you the way he intends to tonight. You're his, forever, and the idea has him grunting out your name breathlessly. 
With his hand atop yours, he guides your hand up and down his length at a pace that makes him hiss. Your hand is much smaller than his, fingertips barely meeting around his thick girth. His skin prickles whenever you tighten your hand around him just slightly every time your hand reaches just under the head of his cock, squeezing him just the way you know he likes it. 
"Fuck..." he exhales, sweat beading down his temple. "So good, sweetheart..."
"Cheol..."
"Hm? Tell me what's wrong."
You glance down at the hand between your legs, feeling short of breath from watching the way your slick seems to coat Seungcheol's fingers, some staining your thigh, some smeared on the palm of his hand. You suck in a big breath, stomach caving in. When you return your gaze to him, you're surprised to find he's already looking at you, the tip of his pink tongue peeking out to rest against his bottom lip. The way he's looking at you makes you feel sweltering hot. 
"My shirt, p-please," you stutter out, feeling suffocated in only one layer of clothing. 
Seungcheol immediately understands what you're asking, but he makes no move to take your shirt off. You whine when he suddenly retracts his fingers from your pussy, leaving you feeling so empty. He peels your hand off his cock, leaving you baffled and so goddamn frustrated. 
"Cheol, why'd—"
He hushes you, lowering himself onto the end of the bed. He grabs both your thighs, pulling you down from the headboard. His cock nudges against the back of your thigh, so close to where you want him the most. 
"Oh, God," you breathlessly pant. "Need you inside me," you tell him, feeling frenzied. You move to pull off your shirt, but he grunts, shaking his head. 
"Don't," he orders, using his grip on your thighs to spread your legs wide enough for him to be able to get a good view of your sloppy cunt, all slick and puffy from the onslaught of his fingers. "I like seeing you in my shirt," he says in a faraway voice, distracted by the sight of your pussy, hole clenching around nothing, almost inviting him to dive right in. 
You groan, propping yourself up onto your elbows, chest heaving. You lick at your dry lips, sending Seungcheol a pleading look, but he doesn't meet your eyes, too absorbed with the mess in between your legs. "Cheol, baby—"
Without warning, Seungcheol leans down, shoving his face into your pussy, mouth hungrily devouring your heat. You fall back onto the bed with a startled shout, jaw hanging open as you try to comprehend the sudden onslaught of pleasure that threatens to consume you whole. Seungcheol is good with his mouth and familiar enough with your body to know how to bring you close to the edge in only minutes. 
He's sucking at your clit noisily, manic with his movements like a starved man getting his first taste of food after days without it. He's greedy and ravenous, offering you no respite—not even a moment to catch your breath. 
You try to tell Seungcheol to slow down, to give you even a second to compose yourself, but only garbled moans of his name come out. By now, sleep is the last thing on your mind—only pleasure clouds it. You're trembling under him, helpless against the relentless assault of his mouth. 
When Seungcheol groans, the vibration on your most sensitive part makes you choke on air, lowering a hand down to grab the strands of his dark hair. When you try to move away from him, he clutches onto your thighs tighter, tongue teasing at your hole, swirling but never diving in. You're still trying to get away, overwhelmed. He notices this, and he brings both his arms around your thighs, hugging your legs close around his head. There's no room to move—he has you locked in. 
"Fuck, please, please, s-slow down! C-Cheol!"
He doesn't, lapping up all your juices, groaning at how your taste coats his tongue and how your smell overtakes his senses. He trusts you to say the safe word if it becomes too much. He also knows that you can take this—he has done far worse things to you before. 
The tip of his nose presses against your clit when he delves his tongue into your pussy, earning a rather rough pull of his hair from you. The pain shoots down his spine, making him slump down onto the bed to grind his bare cock on the bed. All of it makes him so light-headed. Your legs are tightening around his head, trapping him, but he doesn't mind, not even if your moans sound muffled this way. He'll get to hear you later when he fucks you silly into the mattress anyway. 
Tears brim in your eyes. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, dry from moaning so much. It's almost too much—how he is so ruthless with his mouth and tongue. He doesn't let up once, breathing in and out through his nose, delighted to be suffocated between your plush thighs. It's pure fucking torture, but it feels divine.
"Cheol... C-Close," you whisper, hoping he can hear you. 
He doesn't hear you, but he knows you enough by now. He knows the telltale sign of your orgasm approaching, knows how tight you get when you're about to cum, knows how your back arches and your toes curl. He looks at your face and reads your lips, repetitions of his name spilling past it. 
Then he's pulling your legs away from the sides of his head, ripping his mouth from your pussy. Your orgasm is brutally stolen from you, and the sheer frustration that surges through you makes you howl out his name. To make it worse, he only chuckles at you, hands rubbing comfortingly at the side of your thighs. The touch should be soothing, but it only leaves you angered. 
The sheer audacity of this man—
"You asshole," you spit out with all the venom you can muster, chest rising and falling rapidly. Tears of frustration trickle down your cheeks, and Seungcheol thinks the sight would be so lovely if he hadn't just been devouring you like you were his first meal in months. 
"Aw, don't be like that, baby..." he coos sweetly, lips and chin glossy with your juices. He wipes his face with the back of his hand before swiftly grabbing at your soiled panties, pulling them off you and tossing them somewhere in the room. He adjusts your legs, straightening both and letting them dangle over one of his shoulders. Holding his cock in his hand, he strokes it twice and then runs the tip up and down your slit.
"Choi Seungcheol, you're—you..." you trail off, finding yourself drawing a blank, still shocked by how he so meanly robbed you of your orgasm when it had been right at your fingertips. That, combined with how his cock is lightly dipping into your hole, leaves you feeling an untamed emotion, a sensation of chaos where you feel completely out of control, an experience both terrifying and exhilarating.
"Did you just call me Choi Seungcheol? We've been together for years, baby—let's not use full names now," he warns you before he sinks into you in one fell swoop, stuffing you full of every inch of him. There's a brief flash of pain as you try to adjust to the sudden stretch, hands tugging at the bedsheets and eyes rolling back. You hear him chuckle, prompting you to look up at him. You regret it almost immediately because the sight of him makes your hips lift off the bed, a strangled moan leaving you.
Your orgasm crashes into you like a freight train, sudden and jarring. You don't even register it yourself at first, at least not until the overwhelming ecstasy makes you go stiff in Seungcheol's hold, sobbing at the surge of pleasure that has striked you so abruptly. You had not had time to prepare yourself, so you try grounding yourself by grabbing his biceps and clawing at the smooth skin, leaving tender, red marks. 
"G-God, oh God, Cheollie," you whine, pinching your eyes shut because everything feels too fucking good, and you're struggling to bring yourself down from this euphoria and anchor yourself in the present. 
Seungcheol doesn't realise what's happening right away. He feels the way you clench hard around him, walls squeezing him so tight that he can't help but let out a small groan. He's caught off guard when he feels your nails digging into his arms. You're writhing underneath him—quivering, shaking—and finally, it dawns on him what has just unfolded. You just fucking came, all because he had eased his cock into your warm cunt. 
"Oh, baby..." he mutters, snickering quietly to himself. He coaxes you through your orgasm, pressing soft kisses on the side of your thigh. "Shh, good girl, that's it, ride it out for me, darling..." he murmurs against your skin, fighting back the urge to start moving his hips and fucking you through your orgasm. You've never been this sensitive before, and he knows he needs to approach this situation carefully. He doesn't want to overstimulate you too much and too soon, both for your sake and his. 
Seungcheol is equally perplexed and impressed at how little it had taken you to cum. All he had to do was slip himself into you, and you were coming undone under him? He feels his cock twitch at the thought. Seungcheol's only a man, and what you did has inflated his ego tenfold. He thinks nothing could ever top this moment, and he doesn't intend to let you live it down. 
You're not sure just how long it takes you to collect yourself. A gentle palm smoothes down your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. The soft voice is murmuring your name, pulling you back down, down, down from your drunken daze. 
"I'm sorry," you say, still a little disoriented, gaze unfocused. You see Seungcheol's outline and see his lips moving, but you don't hear anything except the pounding of your heart in your ears. You blink a few times, forcing yourself to adjust and snap out of whatever trance you were momentarily stuck in. "I'm sorry," you repeat after finally regaining your awareness. Your eyes zero in on Seungcheol—you can see him clearly now. 
"Darling, believe me, an apology is the last thing I need," he says, slightly relieved that you seem to be returning to your senses now. He carefully sets your legs to the side, leaning down and hovering over you with a leering smile. He has you caged in his arms, looming over you with his broad frame, making you feel small. "All I need—" he begins, nosing at your jaw, breathing in your smell, "—is for you to beg."
You let out a shuddering breath, feeling the tip of his cock nudge at the back of your thigh. Somewhere in the middle of your orgasm, Seungcheol had pulled himself out of your pussy, knowing he would most likely reach his own climax if you kept clamping down on him the way you did. 
"Beg?" you echoed back, tilting your head up, giving him more access to litter kisses on your neck. 
"Mhm..." He lets his teeth graze over the sensitive skin under your jaw, not biting, just gliding over your pulse point. "Beg me to make you cum again." He ends his sentence with a playful nip on your jaw, loving how you jolt under him in surprise. 
His request isn't unusual or odd in any way. Seungcheol has said worse things to you before—things so filthy and obscene it would make a sailor blush. His words carry an unfamiliar weight this time, provoking a shyness in you that you never anticipated would be caused by his words alone. 
Warmth begins to creep up your neck, and a lump forms in your throat as something akin to humiliation washes over you. The weight of the situation starts to dawn on you. Seungcheol hadn't even had the chance to move before you were creaming all over him like a bitch in heat. The thought of it makes you want to curl into yourself and hide until morning. 
Seungcheol must feel you tensing up because he's immediately pulling away from the crook of your neck, searching your face with his eyes. You avert your eyes to the side, unable to meet his gaze with the wild embarrassment coursing through you. 
"What's wrong?" he asks you. "Look at me, baby..."
You sigh, knowing he wouldn't just let this go. Still, as you drag your gaze back to his, you can't help the shameful furrow of your eyebrows. 
Seungcheol immediately knows. "Are you... embarrassed?" he asks, the corners of his mouth curling up just slightly. 
You groan, pushing at his chest to get him to roll over to his side of the bed. He doesn't resist, moving over to give you enough space to sit up on the bed. "Ugh... 'm not embarrassed," you grumble, tucking your feet under your legs so you're sitting cross-legged on the bed. You feel Seungcheol's hand on your back, palm warm over the shirt you're still wearing as he rubs up and down to soothe you. The gesture only makes you feel even more ashamed, especially since you can hear the quiet laughter he's emitting beside you. 
Seungcheol finds it so endearing when you press your hands to your face, hiding yourself from him. His grin widens when you whine into your hands. "What are you so embarrassed for?" he asks, fully knowing the answer but still baffled about how you're so flustered from doing something that he wants to keep stored in his memory until the end of his days. The way your bewildered face had morphed into one of pure ecstasy as your orgasm washed over you is something he wants to be able to replay in his mind again and again. 
His cock jerks at the memory, and he swiftly hauls the comforter up to the middle of his torso to cover himself up. He calls out your name softly, but you don't answer him, still hiding yourself with your hands. He lets out a small sigh, knowing he'll have to get your attention some other way. 
He soon notices your engagement ring sitting on the bedside table. He knows you avoid wearing it to bed, too worried that it might slip off during the night due to your restless sleeping habits. Then, he comes up with the perfect distraction. 
Reaching over, he swiftly grabs the ring from the table before settling back into his previous position. The movement makes you retract your hands from your face, curiously glancing at him.
Seungcheol is smiling, dimples on full display. You resist the urge to poke at the little dents on his cheeks, still feeling bashful about the incident. Then, you notice the small object he's fiddling with in his hand. He's tinkering with your ring, turning it over with his fingers, fitting it around his index, grinning when it doesn't even reach halfway down his digit. 
Seungcheol's eyes seem to darken when he returns his gaze back to yours. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he grabs your left hand, fitting the ring on your finger. The way it fits so perfectly around your supple finger evokes something primal within him. How such a small thing can symbolise the commitment and love you both have for each other is such a wonder to him. He knows that no wealth or material possessions could ever encapsulate the depth of affection he holds for you, let alone this piece of jewellery.
"If this is your way of distracting me so I don't think about what happened earlier..."
Seungcheol rolls his eyes playfully. "You're welcome to forget about it all you want, but it's gonna keep playing in my mind like a broken record whether you like it or not."
You release a sigh but refrain from arguing because Seungcheol's words ring sincere, and you're aware he wouldn't acknowledge your embarrassment anyway. 
He brings your hand to his mouth, tenderly kissing the ring. The gesture is intimate, even if he feels something entirely more carnal stirring in his stomach. "You're so much smaller than me. Could barely even fit the ring on my finger," he comments, thumbing at the small diamond sitting prettily atop the ring. 
Through your blush, you manage a reserved smile. "That's because you're so thick everywhere."
You don't mean the sentence in a weird way, but judging from Seungcheol's booming laughter, he definitely misinterpreted your words. He squeezes your hand once before tugging you down to settle half of your body on top of his. He lets you join him under the covers before cupping your cheek, urging you to look at him. 
"I'm thick everywhere, hm?" he teases you, watching how red immediately stains your cheeks. 
"Don't be gross," you grumble, letting him trail kisses from your wrist, then up to your palm, and settling on your ring. "What's with you and the ring anyway?" you ask him, finding it sweet but slightly odd that he seems so fixated on it. 
"I just had a thought, that's all," he responds, kissing each of your fingertips. 
"Go on." 
"That one day—" he says, eyes burning into yours heatedly, "—there'll be a wedding band beside this one, and you'll finally be mine forever." He says it airily, as if it's the most natural proclamation, with unwavering certainty in his emotions. 
Your heart sings at the declaration. "You're wrong on the last part." You press a fleeting kiss on his mouth, smiling when his eyebrow raises questioningly. "I don't need to be married to you to be yours."
Seungcheol grins, one of his hands skimming down your back, grabbing a handful of your ass over the oversized shirt you're wearing. "You don't know half the things you do to me, do you?" 
"I do, actually, and I plan to abuse that power," you jest, beginning to sit up, throwing one leg over your lover's hips to straddle him. 
Seungcheol is awestruck at the sight of you on top of him. You, all beautiful and celestial, and all his. He wants to worship you, ruin you, and defile you all at the same time. He's not in the right mind to say anything yet, so he only watches, both hands gliding up and down your thighs, getting higher each time, hiking the fabric of your shirt higher up as well. 
He breathes out a sigh when he allows himself to look down. Your pretty pussy is on display, all for him, with remnants of your juices on it and some smeared on your inner thighs. He's about to touch when you grab his wrist, slowly guiding his hand towards where you need him the most. He knows what you're asking of him, and he'd be stupid to deny you your wish. 
You gasp when Seungcheol starts running two of his fingers up and down your slit, coating his fingers in the wetness of your cunt, unafraid to get messy. When he sinks both fingers into your hole, you can't help but mewl, one hand grabbing onto his bicep and the other still wrapped around his wrist. 
"So wet for me, darling... You're fucking dripping all over my fingers," he says once he finally regains his voice back. 
Seungcheol is much stronger than you, and he could easily rip away the hand on your wrist and finger fuck you to oblivion the way he usually does it. This time, however, he lets you guide him, allows you to move your hips to match the rhythm of his movements, and allows you tug his hand closer to reach deeper into you each time he buries the digits. He's still holding the reigns, and he knows that—even if you're the one sitting on top of him—but seeing you try to handle and manage your pleasure all by yourself is so fucking—"Cute."
"Oh... fuck," you breathe out, swallowing hard when Seungcheol folds his free arm and tucks it under his head. He's pretty—bicep bulging and veins crawling up his arms. 
He grins when your pussy tightens around his fingers. "Think you could cum like this?"
"Mhmm..." You sit up straighter, balancing yourself with both hands firmly planted on Seungcheol's shoulders. Slowly, you switch to bouncing on his fingers instead of rolling your hips, wincing slightly at the burn of your thighs. Still, you push through the pain, aching for release, pressure in your stomach tightening at the way his fingers seem to reach deeper inside you at the new angle.
"Pretty, pretty girl," Seungcheol mumbles, more to himself than to you, but you still hear it anyway. It makes you light-headed. You love Seungcheol degrading you during sex, but hearing his compliment brings out a visceral reaction in you. It makes you giddy and scatterbrained—as though every coherent thought in your head simply just... wilts away. 
You bite your lip at his praise, eyelids drooping slightly, a dreamy look settling over your gaze. Seungcheol thinks this is his favourite look on you. You're not saying anything, but your eyes tell a story of themselves. He can see it—the way you're practically begging for him and his cock. 
"Please," you whisper, continuing to fuck yourself on Seungcheol's fingers, moaning wantonly at the mix of pain and pleasure. You're squeezing his shoulders with your hands, nails occasionally digging into his skin whenever the pleasure becomes a little too much. You're so close, and you think Seungcheol knows it as well. 
"That's right, baby. Is my pretty girl close?" he asks, shifting slightly underneath you, cock throbbing at the lack of attention, hard as rock at the adorable sight of you bouncing on top of him. He loves the way you look in his shirt, but he thinks he'd much rather see your perky tits jiggling in his face as you ride him instead. 
"Mhm, c-close," you profess, hands restless, wandering down to his smooth chest before settling around the base of his neck. You don't squeeze, only letting your hands linger as you chase your high. 
Seungcheol chuckles when he notices the delicate grasp of your hands around his neck. He knows you won't put pressure—you're too meek for that. And no, he's not underestimating you. In fact, you might be the only person in the world capable of reducing him to his knees with a glance. But between the two of you, it has always been him who would dare to do such a courageous feat. 
Seungcheol does exactly that. He slips his hand from under his head and clasps it around your neck, watching your eyes widen when he applies the slightest pressure onto the sides of your throat. You always cum so much quicker when he has at least one hand around your neck. 
Your whole body stiffens at the contact, pussy fluttering wildly around his two digits. "O-Oh, f-fuck, fuck!" You let your head tip to the side, eyes fluttering close as you near your high. Your legs are starting to go numb, but that's the least of your concerns when your climax feels like it's looming right around the corner. 
"Attagirl... that's it," Seungcheol drawls, applying more pressure when he feels your pussy squeezing tight around him. At this point, you must be growing dizzy from the lack of air and blood. He's careful not to apply any more force than he currently is. "What a pretty necklace," he taunts, awed by how perfectly his hand wraps around your neck. You're so much smaller compared to him. "Pretty necklace for my pretty girl..."
"Ungh, 'm cumming," you manage to slur out, movements growing more frantic, rhythm getting more sporadic the closer you get.  
"Look at me, sweetheart." 
It takes you a few seconds to register what he is asking. Your eyes drag over to his face. It's torture knowing you could be riding his cock instead of his fingers, but you know he'll want you to finish what you started. His fingers are doing a heavenly job, but the stretch isn't quite enough. You don't say that to him, though, knowing he'd probably give you hell for voicing it. He'd say you're insatiable and edge you until there are no tears left for you to cry. 
"There you are..." he says once your eyes meet his. There's a hunger in his stare—an unspoken promise of the things he will do to you once you've finished fucking yourself on his fingers. Your whole body tenses, cheeks burning when he nods as though urging you to let go. "Can you look at me when you cum? Can you do that for me?"
When Seungcheol adds the smallest amount of pressure on the grip around your neck, you can't help the unadulterated moan that spills past your lips. You're so fucking dizzy, vision blurring on the edges. It's getting increasingly difficult to keep your eyes locked onto his when the world feels like it's about to crash down on you. 
You still have your hands on his neck, and for a moment, you're distracted by how your engagement ring sits on your ring finger. The fat, silver diamond is a stunning contrast to his golden complexion. 
"Come on, don't get distracted now. Cum for me so I can finally get you on my cock, hm?"
You come apart with a broken shout of his name, soaking his fingers with your cum, milky slick trickling down his knuckles and dripping on his stomach. At the height of your pleasure, Seungcheol decides to release his hold on your neck, letting the air and blood rush up to your brain. The sudden surge feels exhilarating, rendering you frozen in bliss as the feeling rips through you. 
"Fuck, sweetheart," he remarks, his free hand coming up to brush back the hair from your face, letting your head loll into his hand sluggishly as it braces the back of your head. You look exhausted, back slouched and chest heaving. Still, he notices the way you're slowly grinding on his fingers. He knows you need more. "That looked like it felt good."
You nod, letting him slip his fingers out of you, sucking in a sharp breath at the sudden emptiness. "So good. Thank you..." Everything feels like it's aching—your legs, your back, and your pussy most of all. You're far from done, but you allow yourself to rest, lowering yourself to lie on top of him, face buried into his neck. You breathe his scent and allow it to root you in the moment. 
Seungcheol wipes his stained fingers on your shirt, tsking you when you whine in protest. "It's literally your cum—why are you so grossed out about it?" he teases. 
"Because..." you say slowly. When you realise you have nothing to say, you pick your head up, blinking at him. 
Seungcheol hums, eyes amused when he looks down at you. "Mhm?"
You don't have an answer, so you kiss him instead. Seungcheol welcomes the kiss, letting his tongue meet with yours in a feverish kiss that makes your hands cling fervently to his hair. You're shifting on top of him restlessly, letting your pussy settle over the length of his cock, sighing heatedly into his mouth and letting his tongue swirl around yours sloppily. 
Seungcheol grunts at the way you let your pussy slip up and down his throbbing cock. Your cunt is hot and so fucking wet, and he feels like he might combust from how good you feel against him. 
Two orgasms should've been enough for you, but you know you won't feel fully sated without Seungcheol's cock dipping in and out of your pussy, leaving it all messy in a mix of your cum. You're not sure whether you can cum again, but you do know you want Seungcheol's cum inside of you, and soon. 
"Inside," you whisper against Seungcheol's lips, not letting him respond before you smash your lips to his again. Reaching down to grab at his cock, you're just about to line the tip with your hole when he shoves you away with a harsh grip on your arm. 
You yelp in surprise, the world turning into a blur, hardly comprehending that you're no longer sitting on top of him. You're now lying on your back, staring wide-eyed up at Seungcheol as he hauls your shirt off, leaving you just as naked as him. 
Seungcheol can't help how his eyes gravitate towards your tits, all on full display for his eyes to feast on. "Fucking perfect," he mutters, one hand jerking up and down his cock as his eyes roam up and down your body, taking everything in. The sight isn't foreign to him, but all the blood still rushes to his dick the same way every time. You're too fucking perfect. If ever comes a day that he ever sees a single flaw in your body, he'll fault his eyes instead. 
When you sigh, it comes out half a moan. "Hurry, Cheollie," you tell him, spreading your legs wider, holding yourself open with two hands on the back of your knees, baring yourself to him unashamedly. You're too desperate for his cock to worry about self-dignity now. 
Seungcheol groans, stomach flipping at the sweetness dripping from your lips when you say his name so endearingly. "Alright, alright..." He presses one hand on the back of your thigh while the other hand grips his cock, running the leaking head up and down your sloppy cunt. "Just don't cum on me too soon like last time, yeah?"
"Why are you bringing that up!"
"Actually... maybe I wouldn't mind. You always shut up so good after you cum." He chuckles at the deathly glare you give him, choosing that exact moment to sink into your awaiting heat, amused when your glare twists into an expression of utter bliss. Oh, he could die happy like this—cock snug in your warm, tight pussy. He allows you a few seconds to adjust, letting his hands travel all the places of your body that he can reach, leaving your skin prickling. 
"Move, Cheol...Please."
Seungcheol smirks at your pleading, watching the way you spread your legs even wider for him—inviting and beckoning him to take you like you're the sweetest and ripest forbidden fruit. "How do you want it, pretty?"
Your eyebrows knit in frustration. Surely , he's trying to tease you, purposely prolonging whatever this is when he could already be fucking you into the mattress by now. Still, you humour him, hoping he will give in. "Any way you want, I'll take it."
Seungcheol nods with a hum, nibbling at the insides of his cheeks as he glances down at the point where his cock disappears into your pussy. "Any way I want, hm?" he echoes back, swiping a thumb at your swollen clit, snickering when your hips jump, causing his cock to slip out, heavy girth springing up to smack against his stomach. 
You reach down with one hand, guiding his cock back to your pussy, desperate to be filled again. "Please, just please." The words come out frantic, almost distraught. "I need you."
Eventually, Seungcheol relents to your pleas. You look so pretty when you're begging for his cock, and that look you're giving him—you look delirious already, and he has barely done a thing.
"Shh, I've got you, sweetheart," he mutters, slipping back inside. Much to your delight, he doesn't dawdle this time. Although he does start off slow, pressing forward until his balls are pressed firmly against your ass each time he sinks in, earning a quiet sigh from you every time. "Pussy taking me so well, princess..."
At this pace, you're able to feel every slide of his cock against your pussy, the way the veins along his length rub against your walls so delectably. "God, f-fuck, fuck, Seungcheol..."
Your lover is watching your face closely, groaning now and then whenever your walls tighten around him, but amused for the most part. He doesn't want to seem arrogant, but he thinks it's incredibly flattering that you still react this way to his cock after years of being together. You're always so eager for him, shivering under his caresses as if you're starved of his touch, as if he has never sunk himself into your tight pussy again and again, only to come back for more. 
Even now, as he hooks his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to him, you're sighing out his name so exquisitely, the syllables rolling off your tongue effortlessly. Your pussy drips for him, the sweet nectar leaking onto his cock, staining your inner thighs. 
A frustrated groan bubbles in your throat as you prop yourself up onto your elbows, scowling at the man who is currently not fucking you the way you both deserve it. The drag of his cock feels good, but you need more, and you know he does too. "Cheollie," you mewl in your sweetest voice, one hand grasping a handful of your breast, squeezing it in the hope of enticing him to go faster. "Need you to go faster, please..." 
Seungcheol doesn't try to hide his smirk, stopping the movement of his hips entirely. He knows you're trying to lure and tempt him, just like the seductress you are. He would be lying if he said your siren gaze and the sultry lilt of your voice don't make him feel as though he's spellbound. It's hard not to give in when you're looking up at him like you want him to wreck and pillage your body until you are practically ruined for everyone else but him.
When you flash him a saccharine smile, it's as if there is a magnetic pull drawing him down closer to you, mouth hovering over yours. He breathes you in, painfully aware of how his cock twitches inside you when you peer at him through your lashes.
"I thought you said you'd take anything I give you," Seungcheol mumbles, hot breath fanning against your lips. He pecks your lips once, angling his head to the side when you try to lean in for more, rejecting your kiss. He coos when you pout at his rejection. "So take what I'm giving you. That's what you promised me, isn't it?"
Then he swoops down lower to trail kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping at your collarbone. You're scowling at his statement, irked that he's using your words against you. Seungcheol doesn't seem to care about your current predicament, licking his way down to the slope of your breast, biting down on the skin with enough force to make it hurt. 
"Don't you want to feel good, Cheollie? Why are you making this longer than it should be?"
"Oh, don't you worry about me, darling. I'm very much enjoying myself," he murmurs, pressing tender kisses on the side of your breast. 
You're opening your mouth to retaliate but decide against it at the last second. Instead, you press your mouth together, saying nothing as you lie back on the bed. You'll let Seungcheol have his way with you for now. Whatever game he's playing right now won't last long, and his control will crumble eventually—at least, that's what you're hoping. 
When Seungcheol wraps his lips around your nipple, you let his name escape you in a sigh. His mouth is warm as he gently suckles, tongue circling the pebbled bud. You don't need to look down at him to know he's looking up at your face, taking in your reaction. "Feels good..." you pant when he stretches his jaw open further, taking more of your breast into his mouth, teeth skimming over tender skin. 
Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer as you arch your back. The slight shift makes your brain short-circuit for a moment as his cock seems to burrow deeper inside of you, sending a flash of heat through your body. "Fuck, so big..."
Seungcheol hums against your chest, still sucking earnestly, lapping at your nipple with his tongue, pulling back now and then to look at the way your chest glistens with his spit. After some time, he switches to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment, making sure it's covered in his spit just the same as the other one. 
You're not sure whether Seungcheol realises it, but his hips have started moving again, cock pushing in and out with no precise pattern, only seeking the warmth of your cunt as it sinks in repeatedly. It's addicting but agonising as well because you want more, and you're not sure whether you can hold out any longer. "Cheol," you softly call out, hoping to gain his attention. You don't wait for him to respond before speaking again. "Need you to fuck me, please..."
He pulls back slightly, blowing cold air on your damp chest, making you shudder. "Aren't I already?" he asks as he litters kisses on the valley of your breasts, fucking into you less distractedly this time, the force of his thrust growing harder. 
You nod, breath stuttering when he finally gains speed, not as fast as you'd like but enough for your mind to go hazy. "Y-Yeah, just need—fuck—just need more..."
Seungcheol's laugh comes out a little shaky. He pushes himself back onto his knees, ignoring your whine at the loss of his warmth. "Are you being greedy, princess?" He gathers both your legs together, letting them dangle over one of his shoulders, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs soothingly when he hears your sigh of relief from the switch of position. 
"I'm not being greedy," you grit out, looking up at him, hissing when he delivers a notably hard thrust. "Please, please, just... faster..."
"See, what'd I say? That was you being greedy." Seungcheol admires you from this position, drinking in the quiet sounds you're emitting, savouring the fluttering of your pussy around his cock. 
Your eyes begin to brim with frustrated tears. You love the man with all your heart, but this is taking it a little far, even for you. You're yearning for him, blood pounding in your ears, skin aflame with desire and an insatiable hunger that threatens to swallow you entirely. How much longer do you have to wait? 
"I can't, Cheol," you sniff, tears spilling onto your cheeks. "P-Please, I really can't—"
Seungcheol shouldn't feel so satisfied with how you're crying from how overwhelming it is, but an undeniable sense of fulfilment washes over him at the sight of your tears. This is what he wanted, after all—to test your limit and push you to the edge. "Alright, sweetheart, don't cry, I've got you..."
With a kiss to your calf, Seungcheol finally grants you what you've been begging for all night, quickly finding a rhythm that immediately garners a loud cry out of you. He sighs, cock finally finding relief at the friction. He enjoyed the game while it lasted, but this—it makes him think that maybe he should've given in sooner. You could've been filled to the brim with his cum by now if it hadn't been for his stubbornness to see you pushed to your breaking point. With this thought in mind, Seungcheol fucks into you even harder, trying to make up for lost time. 
More tears escape your eyes, but it's not out of frustration this time. It's incredible how quickly the tiny sparks of pleasure can become something mighty—an unreckonable force that racks through your whole body, vicious and ruthless, almost cruel in a way.
"Still with me?" Seungcheol asks, gritting his teeth at how well you're taking him, his hands squeezing onto your thighs roughly, the hold almost painful. But you're too preoccupied with your own pleasure to care about whether or not his hands will leave bruises. 
"Baby, you still with me?" he repeats. 
"Hmm..."
Seungcheol shakes his head, not satisfied with your answer. "Talk to me, sweetheart."
"Y-Yeah," you respond, breathing in sharply. "With you..." Your words trail off into a low moan, a sound that makes Seungcheol's eyes flutter shut as he ruts into you faster. 
The sound of skin slapping against skin resonates through the bedroom. It's lewd and unmistakable. His balls slap against your puffy folds with each thrust, sending your slick splattering everywhere—on your ass, on the bed, some droplets even landing on his thighs. He loves it when you get all sloppy for him like this. 
Your hand claws at his own, nails digging into his wrist. Seungcheol lets you remove his hand from your thigh, a growl ripping in his chest when he realises your intention. Before he knows it, he has his palm splayed on your breast, one of your smaller hands resting atop his, guiding him to squeeze. He squeezes once, then twice, relishing the way you moan for him when he does. "That's it, always so good for me. You deserve this, yeah?"
"Don't stop, C-Cheol..." When you look up at him, he seems torn between looking at your face or down at the spot where his cock meets your pussy. He doesn't settle on one, letting his eyes flicker back and forth, breathing growing ragged when he notices your eyes on him. 
"Why would I stop, baby?" He lets his free hand settle on your unoccupied breast, kneading gently, enjoying how you writhe underneath him at the contact. Both hands pinch at your nipples, twisting just barely until they harden in his ministrations. "Why would I stop when you feel this good?"
You hadn't been sure at first whether you still had it in you to cum another time after doing it twice in a short span of time, but a single glance at Seungcheol has you disoriented. Something is churning in your stomach, coiling and winding like a tightly wound spring, poised to release if twisted a little further. The more you look at Seungcheol, the less focused your gaze becomes. Tiny beads of sweat trace a glistening path down his temple, and fine strands of hair cling to his forehead—a testament to the strenuous effort he has exerted thus far.
"Cheol..." you whine, tensing your thighs together, arching your chest up into his rough touches. 
"I know, I know... I can feel you tightening around me," he grits out, veins in his neck jutting out as he continues to strain himself through his thrusts, beginning to lose himself in the feeling of being buried inside your heat. He retracts his hands from your chest to grab each side of your hips. This way, he has more control of your body, able to pull you down onto his cock every time he thrusts in, pressing into you deeper. "Shit, you feel so good, princess. So fucking good, taking me so well. You love this cock, don't you?"
You don't know whether Seungcheol knows how much his words affect you, but you certainly feel the tingling shudder lick a path from the base of your back to the nape of your neck. You let him grapple at your hips and move you however he pleases, using you for his pleasure. 
"Say you love this cock, princess."
"Love it—fill me up so well, love your cock..." you slur. 
"That's right, always so needy for it."
Seungcheol has been holding himself back for some time now, his balls heavy, ready for release. With the way your pussy envelopes him so nicely and the way you're moaning and whining out his name, he knows it will only be a matter of time before he finishes. "You close, baby?" he asks you, chest heaving with every laboured breath he takes. His eyes are screwed shut, afraid he'd cum too soon if he catches a glimpse of your fucked-out face and bouncing tits. 
"Mmph, feels s-so good..."
Seungcheol brings one hand down to the space between your legs, slipping his thumb through the tight press of your plush thighs, quickly finding your clit. He doesn't take into account, however, the way your pussy would tighten around his dick as soon as he starts drawing quick circles around the sensitive bud. He doesn't have the time to warn you, only letting out a strained growl of your name as he is thrown over the edge, emptying himself inside you, filling you up in ribbons of cum that seem never-ending. 
Taken by surprise, you can only squeal, wide eyes searching for his as you grab onto his wrist. Seungcheol keeps his hips pressed to yours, balls smearing slick over your ass as he fills you to the brim. You keen at the feeling, toes curling as you savour the warmth of his cum as it paints your walls white. 
He shudders as the last spurts finally spill inside you, his hips rocking gently on their own, riding out the last few seconds. "Fuck, baby," he groans. He's panting, trying to suck in as much air into his lungs as he can with each inhale, the impact of his orgasm hitting more forcefully since he had been unintentionally edging himself for the past hour or so.
He knows you will eventually ask for more, but he's relieved you're giving him time to recover. He leans his head against your calf and closes his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing. It's hard because the thought that you're still in front of him, naked, dripping his seed, makes him feel winded in a way that is obscene. 
"Cheol..."
"Yeah?" he grunts. 
"You okay?" 
He lets your legs fall from his shoulder, gently setting it down onto the bed, easing you to lie on your side. "Mhm... m' fine," he swallows, "just give me a minute."
When he slides out of you, you let slip a squeak that makes Seungcheol crack a small smile. He splays a hand on the back of your thigh, leaning back slightly to catch a glimpse of the mess between your legs. He can't help the stirring of his cock as he watches driblets of his cum leak out of you, seeping into the bedsheets.
Seungcheol finds it difficult to tear his eyes away from the glorious sight of your ruined cunt. He suddenly finds himself in a predicament. He knows he needs to take a breather, even if there is a part of him that aches to bury himself into you and fill you with his cum for the second time tonight.
Finally, he settles himself beside you, positioning himself so that he's spooning you from behind. He brushes his hand down from your shoulder to your arm and then down the enticing curve of your waist. Your skin is soft and supple against his palm. His caresses must tickle because your giggles fill his ears as you writhe away from his teasing touch. "Cheol..." your whine of his name makes a rush of affection wash over him. 
Seungcheol grins, pushing himself up onto his elbow to lean over you just enough to nestle his face into the crook of your neck. When he nips at your jaw, you let out a breathless sigh, and he knows it won't be long until you ask him for more. He would give you more if only he hadn't just finished twice over the course of an hour. He will have to find another way to satiate your hunger. 
Your eyes flutter shut, humming when you feel Seungcheol's lips on your shoulder blade. You don't say anything as you push your lower half into him, which earns a grunt from the man as his sensitive cock comes into contact with your ass. Much to your dismay, his hand immediately flies to your waist, gently moving you away from him. 
"Baby," he rasps, the strain discernible in his voice. He pecks your lips when you tilt your head to pout at him. "Turn over and face me, hm?"
Slightly confused, you do as he says anyway, gasping when he pulls you into him with a hand on your lower back. With your chest pressed into his and face only inches away, you give him a questioning look, circling your arms around his neck and pressing a brief kiss to his lips. "Now what?"
Seungcheol responds by kissing you. His kiss is hard and fierce, stealing your breath as he sinks his teeth into your lower lip, soothing the stinging bite with a fleeting sweep of his tongue. You arch into him, moaning into his mouth when you feel his free hand trail up your chest to settle on the nape of your neck, allowing him to have a better reign. 
Something presses against your aching cunt, and you have to break away with a dazed gasp, peering down between your bodies. Seungcheol has shoved his leg between yours, angling his thigh upward to press against you.
The hand on your back moves to the dip of your waist, encouraging you to roll your hips back and forth. The realisation of what he wants you to do makes you whimper. "Oh, God—"
"Shh, just focus on me, sweetheart. You can be a good girl and ride my thigh, yeah?"
When you try to respond, nothing comes out except a garbled moan. You must look so salacious to him—moving your hips back and forth like a desperate whore, dragging your wet pussy against his thigh, eyes rolling back from the simulation on your clit. You swear you see stars dancing in your vision, skin prickling as every thought in your mind withers into nothing. 
"That's it, I can feel how warm you are... So fucking warm and wet."
You try to kiss him again but find yourself pulling away shortly after, too dazed to keep up with the force of Seungcheol's kisses. His thigh is drenched and sticky from the mixture of your juices and his cum that has leaked out of your hole, but he keeps you stable with a firm grip on the back of your thigh. Whenever you roll your hips, the squelching sound from between your thighs is distinct, and it makes your whole face burn. 
With a sigh of his name, you weave your fingers through his hair, tugging when the stimulation becomes too intense for your liking. It feels fucking euphoric—the way his solid thigh feels against your soaked pussy as it drags up, down, up, down—but it's somehow not enough at the same time. 
Seungcheol thinks your moans sound like angels singing in his ears, and he eagerly drinks it all in, watching your face intently at the same time, relishing the way your eyes roll back during moments when the pleasure washes over you in waves. "So cute." 
"Fuck, Cheol, 's not enough..."
Seungcheol's mouth stretches into a grin, letting a few seconds pass in silence as he watches you rut desperately against his thigh, so keen to reach your long-awaited high. "Not enough? You're dripping all over me, though?" To prove his point, he withdraws his thigh from between your legs, shushing you when you whine in protest. "Let's see..."
Two of his fingers swipe at the sticky residue on his thigh. He lifts his hand to your face, showing the glossy remnant on his fingers. To further taunt you, he spreads the fingers apart, allowing a stringy thread of the creamy slick to bridge the gap between the two digits. He doesn't bother concealing his smirk when your sheepish face comes into focus, cheeks red from a combination of arousal and shame. 
You huff when he sticks his fingers into his mouth, tasting the slick that clings to it. The deep hum that rumbles in his chest kindles a fire in you that you know can only be doused by Seungcheol's touch alone. You can only watch, stunned, mind teeming with a flurry of wild thoughts as he finally removes his fingers from his mouth. 
"Now you choose, princess. It's either my thigh or nothing at all."
It takes you a moment to decipher his words. "But that's not fair..." you whine. 
"Just choose."
"I don't wanna..."
"Time's ticking."
You give in—of course you do. Knowing Seungcheol, he probably would stay true to his words. He wouldn't have any problem leaving you high and dry as he excuses himself to the bathroom to clean himself up. Then, he would come back to bed as if nothing had happened, and he wouldn't give in no matter how much you cling to him and beg for even an ounce of his attention. Then you'd have to wait until the morning to finally get some relief, either by his fingers or tongue, because he always insists on fucking you only after he has had his dose of morning coffee. It's infuriating, but it would be a lie if you said you didn't enjoy his pesky games. 
"Fine... Your thigh is fine."
"Use your big girl words."
"I need your thigh, please, Cheol. Pretty please..."
Seungcheol pauses briefly, letting your words sink in before he nods in approval. "Alright, if you insist." 
When he slots his thigh between your legs again, it's as if you've stumbled upon an oasis amid a scorching drought. The pleasure is liberating, and you're sighing his name against the crook of his neck, melting into his touch, going putty in his hold. You're grasping at both his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as the tautness in your stomach gradually builds again. It's slow, almost torturous, but the mounting tension from before has you trembling, and Seungcheol notices. He always does. 
"Breathe," he reminds you, tapping your cheek gently to ensure you hear him. "Take your time and breathe, 'm not going anywhere."
"Unghh, I don't know if I can—"
"You can, baby," he encourages softly.
Seungcheol pulls you even closer by your thigh, hitching your leg a little higher against his hips, spreading you open a little more. He can feel you throbbing against him, and the warmth emanating from between your legs makes him feel heady. 
"Fuck," he cusses, wishing so badly it was his cock that was making you writhe in his embrace and cry out his name so sweetly. "Stay with me. Are you close?"
You sob at the question. "I don't know. God, C-Cheol..."
"Hey, look at me, princess." Seungcheol nods when you finally compose yourself enough to look at him. "Breathe, and focus on me."
The movement of your hips doesn't stop as he mutters his instructions. 
"Uh-uh, keep your eyes on me," he reprimands when he notices your gaze flittering down to the glistening mess on his thigh. "That's right, keep those pretty eyes on me. That's it..."
You're sure you've lost all your ability to communicate effectively or conjure up a coherent sentence. The only word you manage to babble and stutter out is Seungcheol's name. No matter how much you try, you can't help the shaking of your legs or the ragged rise and fall of your chest as you try to gulp in enough air. It feels so fucking good—you want to tell him—but nothing comes out except choked moans and whimpers. 
"Don't worry about anything else. Just focus on the feeling..."
"C-Cheol, 'm close... I don't—I'm—"
"Shh, just relax. It's going to feel so good when you let go," Seungcheol says, hand still secure on the back of your thigh, helping you grind down against him. He thinks he might need a long, cold shower after this is all over. 
When you breathe in, the smell of Seungcheol's tantalising cologne fills your nose, and you can't help but cry out. The mix of patchouli and bergamot combined with the natural scent of his musk makes you tense against him. He smells heavenly. He smells like home. "Oh my God, ungh—"
"It's okay, you can cum. No one's stopping you."
Your eyes drift over his face, focusing on every feature and every detail, no matter how minuscule. Ultimately, it is precisely the look in his dark eyes that throws you over the edge. His eyes have an allure to them—filled with desire and longing that dance wildly in the shadows, luring you into their mysterious depth.  
The pleasure doesn't hit you all at once—it starts from the end of your toes, trailing up your legs, erupting into flurries of flames in your stomach, winding up your spine like an electric current that singes at every nerve. The euphoria builds like a crescendo, like a warmth that blossoms into an inferno and sweeps through your whole being. Your skin burns, but you feel as though you're drowning—chest tight, eyes glassy, mouth agape in a silent shout. Blood roars in your ears, and each heartbeat feels like a drumbeat, pounding against the confines of your ribcage, a relentless rhythm that drowns out every other sound. 
When the pleasure finally subsides, it leaves a lingering warmth that seems to simmer under your skin. It's a pleasant buzzing, one that makes you feel drowsy. You slump against Seungcheol, hiding your face in his bare chest, trying to hide your bashful smile that would give away how blissful you currently feel. You breathe in his perfume, grounding yourself, soaking in the heat of his body as he gently brushes a palm up and down your back. 
Seungcheol tenderly clasps your hand, lifting it delicately to plant a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist. His kisses trail down, mouth caressing each fingertip before turning your hand gently. With utmost reverence, he presses his lips against the glimmering engagement ring on your finger, bestowing it with two tender pecks, a silent promise sealed in each kiss.
"I love you," he whispers against your temple, nosing at your cheekbone. "But do you think you could cum that fast again?"
Still recovering from your high, you struggle to grasp his words. "What do you mean?"
"Like before. I mean, I was barely in you, and you were cumming all over me so fast I almost didn't realise—"
Your loud gasp cuts him off. "You are such a dick! Stop talking about that!"
"Never!" he objects, dimples showing when he grins. "It's going to make for the perfect story to tell to all our friends—"
Deciding your words won't effectively shut his blabbering mouth, you're left with no choice but to resort to slapping his arm instead, not stopping until he seizes your wrist, effectively thwarting your assault on him. 
"Okay, okay," he concedes with a laugh. "I'm just kidding. That story will forever stay with me and me only. I'm sorry, okay?"
"You don't look sorry."
"You're right, it was just so fucking hot—"
"You're insufferable. Break off our engagement right now."
The faux horror that overtakes his face is hilarious. "Alright, I'll stop. I really am sorry. Seriously."
You giggle at the admission. "You're stuck with me, you know? There's no backing out of a marriage with me."
He playfully sighs. "Hm, I'm not so sure about that.. I mean, it's not like we're already married—"
"Nice try, but I've already picked out my dress, and it's non-refundable."
"True, and I've just put a baby in you as well, so..."
You lean back, flashing him an incredulous look. "Again, nice try. Still on the pills, dummy."
"And what if they suddenly just... vanished?"
Snickering, you sit up, feeling unbearably icky and sweaty. "Why don't you marry me first, and then we can try having children. Deal?" You don't wait for his response, pushing yourself off the bed and shuffling your way to the bathroom. You can almost feel his eyes burning lasers into your bare ass. 
"Why don't you start calling me daddy from now on? You know, for practice?"
"Absolutely not."
"What do you think about having four children?" 
"I love you too, Seungcheol."
"Is that a yes?"
"You're cute."
There's a pause. "So, yes?"
"What should we do this weekend?" 
You hear him get off the bed, his thundering footsteps drawing nearer. "Stop changing the subject!"
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© sweetlemontart — all rights reserved. ✮⋆˙
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nastyaromatherapy · 5 months
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Brother's best friend (18+)
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You see Nate, who you're not so fond of, at your house hanging out with your brother.
do i have many Ethan requests currently? yes. but am i currently salivating, thirsting, and barking for nate? yes.
pairing - bbf!nate jacobs x fem!reader
one shot length, 1.4k+ word fic
warnings: PIV, nate's kind of the worst obvi, nate says the r-slur, nate's like graduated highschool by now, uhh idfk creampie ig
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The stench wafting out of your brother's room was disgusting, the fumes infiltrated your nostrils when you walked through the hall to get your laundry. You tried to ignore him and his friends over their yelling which was damn near impossible, who knows what the fuck they did in there. All you knew is that it was stinky, sweaty, and weirdly horny.
You shuffled your way into the laundry room and started loading the machine. Somehow the smell of your dirty clothes was more tolerable than his room. Suddenly the noises from the musty dump got louder, signifying that the door had opened. You paid no mind, not wanting to see him or Daniel, or whoever else was lurking in that place.
You had just about finished loading the washer until you heard a voice. "Forgot something?" You turned around and looked up to see Nate with a pink thong dangling from his fingers. "Thanks," you said with annoyance. You yanked it from his fingers to throw it in the drum.
Nate was hot, a grade above you, but you still disliked him with rationality. In your junior year he catfished you, leading you to embarrass yourself in front of the person that you thought you were texting, and then you became a joke amongst his friend group.
He stood behind you as you threw in tide pods and started the machine. You turned around and he was still there. "That the same pair you wore in that one pic?" You rolled your eyes, "Which one?" He chuckled to himself. "The fact you have to ask 'which one' is laughable." You scoffed and stormed out of the room, brushing past him.
"When will you stop being mad at me?" He called out, making you turn around. "It's been a year, c'mon everyone's forgotten." He spoke. "Not you apparently! Maybe if you stopped being a total dick, we'd be neutral like how I am with the rest of my brother's friends." You huffed and walked to your room with him following behind. "Okay, okay y/n, I'm sorry." He said as he leaned against your doorframe.
"Whatever Nate, why do you want my forgiveness so bad anyways? Just go back and hang out with my brother." You said while straightening random trinkets on your dresser. "Because, y'know, I want to be neutral with you. Besides, I'd be lying if I said I haven't jacked off at least once to those photos-" "Oh my god Nate, ew! Just get your perverted ass out of my fucking room!" You yelled, attempting to push his tall frame out to no avail.
He looked down at you, finding the power difference endearing. "It's not my fault you're perfect," he purred, making you soil your your panties. You always loved when he complimented you. You swallowed as you looked up at him. "My brother's gonna wonder where you are so, you should y'know, before he comes looking for you." He shakes his head. "Your brother's retarded, he's not gonna wonder shit." He said as his hands reached to shut your door.
"Nate," you whispered before he leaned down to kiss you. You internally gasped as your hands found their way to his cheeks, and his traveled to grope your ass through the oversized tee you drowned in. The groans he let escape into your mouth was enough to make you completely drench your panties, your other hand reaching for his shirtless chest. The two of you traveled to your bed, not breaking the kiss, only casually coming up for air.
You were positioned at the bottom, head resting on your pillow with him above you. He slipped his tongue into your mouth just as he slipped his hand underneath your shirt, fingers making their way to your heavy clit. You whimpered and jolted at the connection, inching your legs wider for him. He rubbed circles around your bulging clit through the panties whilst his tongue journeyed through your mouth.
"Nate, please," you whimpered into his mouth. He pulled away leaving your mouth agape as he lifted your tee over your head. "Fuck," he whispered to himself. You sat up to kiss him as he grasped your tits, kneading them and squeezing on your nipples. You moaned into his mouth from the friction as you reached down to his crotch. He groaned when he felt your hand on his erection. You broke the kiss to unbutton his pants, pulling them down as you licked your lips. You eyed his length through his Calvin Kleins and massaged him through the fabric.
He moaned from your touch, biting his lip as he looked down at your hand. You reached your hand in to stretch the waistband and pull his cock out. His chest rose and fell as you leaned down to lick his shaft before swallowing him. He bit back a whimper as you took him deep into your mouth. Your soft plush lips wrapped around his shaft like a ring that slid up and down his girthy length. Your doe eyes met his dark ones as your cheeks hollowed, making you moan around his cock.
"Fuck, I always knew you were a slut from those photos," He said between grunts. Your eyebrows furrowed as you breathed heavily through your nose, stomach churning from how aroused you were. Vibrations were sent up his cock from your moans, making him twitch in your mouth. "Shit you're gonna make me cum," he whispered before painting your mouth white. You slid off of him, letting the cum canopy over the rest of his length, making a mess on your bed.
After catching his breath, he fisted your hair in his hands to pull you up to him to interlock lips. He grimaced at the taste of his bitter cum on your lips as his tongue grazed yours, his hands again toying with your perky nipples. "Why'd b/n have to have such a hot sister," he whispered, making your hole flutter. "Maybe so you'd have something fun to do in his godforsaken tomb." You smirked against his lips before he laid you down back onto your mattress.
He spread your legs, eyeing that darkened, damp patch on your panties. You closed your eyes, slightly embarrassed by your physical arousal. He pulled them down, a string of natural lubricant following behind. You stretched your legs in the air and opened them wider, letting him view your glistening pussy.
He tapped his tip atop your sticky folds, his cock already covered in cum. You whimpered at the contact, and he smiled a smug smirk at your reaction. "Yeah, you want it?" He whispered condescendingly. "Yes Nate, please! I need you so bad," you begged. He lined his cock up with your gaping entrance before plunging in. You moaned out as your pussy stretched to accommodate his length. You moaned out with every thrust of his hips, not doing your best at keeping quiet.
He chuckled at himself whenever you cried out when he went deep, his tip grazing your sensitive cervix. "Such a slut taking one of your brother's friend's cocks, yeah?" He groaned as he pistoned himself in and out of your pussy. Your hole was sloppy and wet, and a ring of his previous cum formed around his base. "Please don't stop Nate, it feels s'good," you slurred out.
He slapped your tits making you yelp and leaned down to suck on your lips. You moaned into his mouth as his cock fucked your pussy animalistically. "'Pussy's so fucking good," he groaned against your lips. "You gonna touch yourself whenever I'm on my way to hang out with your brother? Gonna pull me away so I can fill you up with my cum like the good slut you are?" He asked. "Mhm, yes Nate, I'm gonna need your cock everyday," you moaned, clenching around his length. "Good fucking girl," he groaned.
Your stomach twisted and you found yourself throbbing around his length, close to cumming. "Nate, I'm s'close," you whimpered out. "Fuck, cum for me baby," he grunted through his teeth, making you unravel all around his cock, your cum dripping like warm honey on his length. With one final thrust he came too, shooting his load into your tight cunt. He pulled out and watched the mix of cum spill out of you, leaving a puddle on the sheets, and your hole that was left gaping.
***
The two of you put your clothes back on and he walked out of your room. Your brother notices him from the hallway and finally wonders where he's been. "Nate, dude, where the hell were you?" He just smugly shrugged. "Bathroom, jacking off to your sister," he starts, looking back at you. "She's fucking hot." You scoffed, "Gross," before closing your door.
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radiance1 · 2 months
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Inspired by @puppetmaster13u and various dragon aus they have.
BUT! This is also a bit of a fantasy/DnD au I guess...? IDK BUT HERE WE GO-
Okay now so, I'm imagining that that Danny, Tucker, and Sam create a pocket dimension for their game via the use of reality warping (via scepter) and something given to them by Pariah Dark before he went off on that whole honey moon thing with Clockwork.
For the record, Danny isn't the ghost king here, Pariah Dark is he's just the prince.
Sam created a garden from the barren earth, that eventually grew into a great forest and spread out to the rest of the world, which technically made her the creator of life but anyways. So, she's holed up in said garden turned forest.
Tucker bestowed upon his subjects (after they were made of course) knowledge and technology and is regarded as the greatest teacher in that world's history.
Danny? Oh yea he became that one that giant dragon that everyone knows is there, is afraid of, and just sleeps all day in this one specific place. You'd have to cut him some slack though, because no one told him creating a world and its laws would be so hard even with help.
That and him, as the one with basically the most knowledge and resident fanboy of space, created the stars surrounding the place as well!
Of course, they couldn't stay there all of the time. What with work (Tucker), high-society (Sam), and studying (Why the heck did Danny decide to go to collage again?). That entire place was just made to play around in before they had to go their separate ways and be, you know, actual adults, so it was easy enough to let go of it really.
Except for Danny. Not of any great reason, really, he just needed someplace where he could quietly study in peace, nap, think or just get away from the Ghost Zone before he had to go through all that princely nonsense again. Plus, none of their creations in that pocket dimension really wanted to mess with the giant fuck off dragon who was said to created the place anyways.
For the record, Danny is more of an eastern dragon in design with a long body rather than western. So that probably just added more into his intimidation with his sheer length.
So, you know, of course he would have been none too pleased when someone actually did disturb his solitude (as stated by the dimension's residents) as soon as the world was thrown off-balance by an outside force.
Meanwhile, Klarion the Witch boy is having the time of his life coming across a whole world that somehow hasn't been affected by Order or Chaos. So he's capitalizing on that.
Then he came across a place that was said to be sacred, not that he cared, and then came across a boy who didn't look a day over his teens (which frankly doesn't say much in regards to immortals) with a frankly long tail that looked longer than he was tall and very majestic looking horns.
Danny was annoyed yet curious, Klarion was surprised yet delighted.
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dante-mightdie · 3 months
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part 4. of toxic simon
a/n: got a few ideas from my requests on what to add for this part so thank you very much, ash loves you <3
cw: kidnapping, weapons, murder, angst, comfort, themes of smut
It had been a few weeks since simon had walked in on you and alex. since that night, there had been a dramatic shift in the price home. the once broody lieutenant was now just the pure embodiment of rage and misery.
he barely left the guest room for the whole of his leave. and when he did, he was causing problems. never in front of your father, however. he's not stupid. but he constantly felt the need to size up alex in front of you. looming over him with that fucking mask on, flexing his muscles.
alex never indulges in simon's desperate attempts to pull a viscous reaction from him. to make you see that your new man isn't that much nicer than him, darl'. so you might as well come back to what you know.
no, instead alex leads you out of the room. not without a soft mumble of 'let's go sugar. you don't need to be hearing this.' simon wonders if you've told alex about him. about how he smashed your heart into a million little pieces.
he's gotten low a couple of nights. resorting to snapping mirror picks in his tight black briefs after his shower. you there were no identifiers that it was ghost. no, only you knew it was simon.
he's a bastard. he knows he wont get a response from you. he will, however, get to listen to the hushed bickering coming from you and alex that night when he sees the photo.
alex got called away on duty after a big fight between the two of you. It was clear that you hadn't made up by the time he left, either. simon can tell by the way you moped around. barely speaking to anyone in the home. simon tried to speak to you, hoping to score back some points whilst things were rocky between you and your man. you just brushed him off, sulking back off to your room.
later that night when simon was laying in bed, his phone buzzed with a text from you.
'simon' was all it read
simon rolled his eyes, feeling like a kicked puppy after you ignored him, he decided to ignore your message. puts his phone down and rolls over to go to sleep, ignoring the constant buzzing of his phone from behind him.
simon was sure he got a few good hours of sleep before being violently woken up to a strong hand shaking his shoulder.
"simon. simon, get up." he recognises your father's panicked voice calling out to him. he's groggy for a few moments before your father says two words that hit him like a bucket of ice water,
"she's gone."
simon feels and ice cold chill run down his spine at your father's words.
"my daughter she's fucking gone. someone took my fucking daughter."
simon had to stop price from tearing the whole house up, grabbing his shoulders and promising him that they will find you.
simon and price are on base the very next morning. along with alex, gaz, and soap. everyone is deadly silent, standing tall and ready as their captain briefs them on how they're going to get you back. Alex has a tick in his jaw and simon is sure he's going to snap if anything goes wrong
10 minutes before they ship out and simon is having a cigarette, trying to ease his nerves. he hadn't even checked his phone yet and it only just clicked in his brain that you text him last night. those messages were still unopened on his phone. with a weight on his chest, simon unlocks his phone and feels his heart sink when he sees those texts,
'simon? is that you?'
'simon seriously I can hear noises downstairs'
'are you outside my door?'
'simon, please. i'm scared.'
you were calling him for help.
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simon has been fighting down bile for the past 45 minutes. the helicopter ride certainly not helping ease the horrendous amount amount of guilt he's feeling. neither is watching alex bounce his leg nervously, or price chain smoke cigar after cigar.
it's a long trek from the drop-point to the abandoned warehouse where they suspect you're being kept. simon trudging through the mud behind everyone else, praying that no one says a word to him.
"if my intel is good, she's in that building there." alex says, pointing down to the building.
"this is a weapons free op, boys. shoot to kill. do what you need to do to get my girl back home safe." price commands out in his gruff voice, but you can hear a slight edge to his tone. a streak of nervousness that simon has never seen in his captain.
It's a clean sweep once they breach the entrance, bodies dropping in quick succession. room after room being swept and an anxious feeling hanging on everyone's shoulders each time they don't find you.
simon makes his way to the basement floor, taking out the hitmen guarding the heavy metal doors at the end of the dark hallway. he pushes the door open slowly, gun raised and ready to take out an immediate threats.
there were no threats in the room, simon quickly realised, just you. poor, terrified you huddled up in the corner with chains attached to your wrists and ankles. shaking violently like a feral cat. the fear in your eyes causes simon to immediately lower his gun and raise his hands in a 'I-mean-no-harm' way.
he takes a couple hesitant steps towards you, careful not to frighten you even more.
"hey..." he whispers, "it's just-"
"she's here!"
simon was cut off by the sound of alex alerting everyone to your safety. he immediately rushes past simon, knealing in front of you. the second you recognise him, you're reaching for him as sobs start to make their way from your throat.
"It's alright, baby. I'm here, I got you. You're safe now." alex coos to you as he scoops you into his arms, leaving simon to stand behind him like a ghost.
the sight of you reaching for alex instead of him makes simon feel as through someone is prying his rib cage open with a crowbar. he felt truly left in the dust. but he can't blame you, no. this was his fault.
he lost.
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star-sim · 4 months
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hopeless ☆ heeseung lee
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☆ horrendously down bad! heeseung x fem! reader ☆ summary: absolutely no one would have expected the dark, brooding, and rough heeseung lee to be hopelessly head over heels in love with the sweet, oblivious you. especially you. even with the help of practically the entire year, it's almost pathetic the way heeseung struggles to utter three, simple words to you, let alone look you in the eye. ☆ genre: fluff!!! pining, SUPER WHIPPED HEESEUNG, high school! au, non-idol! au, a lot of 01 liner idols + the rest of enha make appearances, btw this follows the asian school system, SO MUCH FLIRTING OMG, heeseung is kinda pathetic and awk ☆ warning(s)? swearing and dumb characters lol, there is one SA scene, but it is not graphic + very minor violence ☆ word count: 10.8k ☆ this is extremely based off of "danger" by bts, especially the lyric "you're cute, and i'm pathetic" lol enjoy!
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Heeseung Lee was stressed. 
No. He was distraught. 
Distraught about how fucking cute you looked today.
Ever since he was a kid, Heeseung loved Halloween, because he loved Trick-or-Treating with his older brother and cousins. However now, at the age of seventeen, he found himself resenting it. Not because there was any issue with the holiday, but because today was Halloween. 
From across the classroom, Heeseung found himself staring, all dazed and empty-headed, at you, who was clad in your cute bunny costume. The way the fluffy, white ears stuck out from the top of your head, as well as the fluffy white coat draped around your shoulders, made you look so soft and cozy and adorable. The way your nose crinkled as you laughed with your friends, sweet sounds coming from your lips as you threw your head back. 
Were you real? How could anyone be so goddamn beautiful and not be an actual angel sent from above? What country did Heeseung save in his past life in order to get to be in your presence in this life?
"Dude, you're staring," a new voice interjected.
"What?" Heeseung tore his eyes away from you. "I wasn't."
Beomgyu Choi was one of Heeseung's classmates. And, like everyone else in their year, Beomgyu knew how enamored Heeseung was with you. Other than yourself, of course.
"I'm tellin' you," Beomgyu plopped down onto his seat, which was beside Heeseung's. He slid his chair so that he would be closer to his classmate, before throwing an arm around Heeseung. "You need to make a move. Like, now."
Heeseung glanced over at his classmate. If he ignored the fake blood on Beomgyu's chin, as well as the fake, plastic vampire teeth and the god-awful Spirit Halloween Dracula cape, he'd know that Beomgyu was 100% correct. 
Everyone (and seriously, everyone) knew that Heeseung Lee had the biggest, juiciest, most obnoxious crush on you. In fact, your own friends had even tasked themselves with the job of putting in a good word for Heeseung, saying things like "Isn't he so cool?" into your ear to hopefully guide you straight into his arms. It's such a well-known fact that some of your teachers have purposefully placed you and Heeseung next to or near each other in order to help him with his more-than-obvious crush. 
With such a big, school-wide effort, it should be expected that at least some progress was made.
Wrong!
Not even a single stroke of progress has been made.
Probably because there was one teensy, weensy, eensy, problem: Heeseung was an absolute mess around you. Heeseung was known as this tall, blunt, and rough guy at school. When he wasn't silently judging everyone, he hung out with his group of friends, who had a reputation for being delinquents. Heeseung Lee, clad in his iconic black leather jacket, was intimidating, and usually had no problem speaking up for himself. But around you? Absolutely not.
If anyone thought that Heeseung Lee could easily speak to you, they were out of their goddamn mind. There were too many instances where your classmates would push Heeseung and you together, only for him to blow it because he was completely incapable of looking you in the eye without turning red. 
In Heeseung's defense, you were the most beautiful person in the world— How is he not supposed to get nervous?
"You know I can't," Heeseung murmured, clenching his fists.
Beomgyu rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Hee. What happened to banger Heeseung Lee? Heeseung Lee that beats up kids? I didn't think you'd be scared of talking to girls."
"First of all," Heeseung frowned, "I'm not a banger and I don't beat up kids. And also, I'm not scared of talking to girls."
His classmate quirked a brow. "Really?" Heeseung nodded. "Because the last time I remember, you could barely get a word out in front of [Name]."
At the sound of your name, Heeseung jerked in his seat, reaching out to grasp Beomgyu's arm. "Shhhh, don't say her name so loud!" he hissed, eyes quivering over to where you were with your friends.
"What?" Beomgyu looked around indiscreetly. "It's not a secret to anyone how you feel about [Name]."
"Shhhh! Shut up!"
When the bell rang, everyone scurried to their seat, and class began. As Beomgyu tuned out the sound of the teacher's voice, he couldn't help but notice the way Heeseung's eyes were completely glued to you. It was almost laughable, the way the boy's eyes were wide, staring at you like you were some god.
Oh god, Heeseung Lee was hopeless.
"Heeseung-hyung, are you free tomorrow?"
It was lunch time. Heeseung and his friends liked to hang around the rooftop of the school, because it was always empty. And plus, no one wanted to be where Heeseung and his friends were— they were too scary!
Heeseung looked at his younger Australian friend, Jake Sim (or Jaeyun Sim, as his official documents stated), who had just asked that question. Heeseung took a bite of the instant ramen that they bought from the vending machine.
"Yeah, why?"
"Good. Because you have a date with [Name] tomorrow."
Heeseung choked. As he coughed, his other younger friend, Sunoo Kim, let out a whine.
"Hyuuunggg!" Sunoo pouted. "Why'd you tell him?"
"It was supposed to be a surprise!" Riki Nishimura, the group's Japanese foreign exchange student friend, added, elbowing Jake in the ribs.
"Whatever," Jake crossed his arms. When Riki nudged him again, Jake opened his mouth to holler, "Jay, back me up!"
Jongseong "Jay" Park was another one of Heeseung's friends, probably the closest person to him. 
"You guys know Heeseung-hyung is going to fuck it up either way, right?" Jay said. "Remember last time?"
"Yeah," Sunghoon Park joined in. "No matter how much we prepared him, Heeseung-hyung still acted like a fucking idiot."
"I'm right here!" Heeseung shouted, still hitting his chest to dislodge the ramen that he choked on. 
Jungwon Yang, the seventh person in their friend group, put a hand on the older boy's shoulder, his lips lifting up into a half-teasing grin, revealing sharp canine teeth, "Hyung, don't listen to them. I think you'll really impress [Name] tomorrow."
It was Heeseung's turn to elbow Jungwon in the ribs.
When Heeseung finally finished coughing up a storm, his friends were already onto another topic, making plans for the next weekend.
"Hey, hey!" Heeseung grumbled. "Aren't you guys going to explain this so-called 'date with [Name]'?"
"What's there to explain?" Riki said. "You're going on a date with [Name]. End of story."
The eldest of the group's face contorted. "What are you guys even saying—"
"Well, it's not technically a date," Sunghoon said, taking a sip of his juice box. "You're, like, hanging out with [Name] though."
That still didn't answer Heeseung's question. 
"When? Where? What time?" he spluttered, eager for answers.
Jake huffed exasperatedly. "Do we have to explain to you everything? It's not that deep, man."
Jungwon rolled his eyes. "Hyung, [Name]'s friends are the presidents of the Environment and Ecology Club, and there's a social tomorrow. It's like birdhouse painting, or something. [Name] is attending to support her friend, so we signed you up, too."
"Birdhouse painting?!" Sunoo's features morphed into confusion. "I thought they were making bracelets?"
"No, I thought there were weaving baskets?" Riki frowned.
"Whatever it is, it sounds lame as hell," Jay remarked.
Jungwon rolled his eyes again, earning a punch on his arm. "Whatever it is, it'll be a great opportunity for you to talk to [Name]." 
The younger boy offered Heeseung a reassuring smile, only to receive a pensive one in return.
When classes resumed, Heeseung felt light-headed and distracted the entire time as he processed the fact that he was going to be around you tomorrow.
Oh god, he sounded like a total loser. Did the mere thought of being in your presence make him nervous? Yes, yes it did. You were just so pretty and sweet, he had no idea what to do. Poor boy, his teeth dug into his bottom lip, clammy palms pressing into the underside of his desk. His knee bounced, and there was absolutely no way that he could even make out a single word the teacher was saying.
Heeseung was going to pass out. 
"Hey, Heeseung?"
That's your voice. It was so pretty and nice on his ears. Was he in heaven? He wouldn't be surprised if your voice was the voice of an angel.
"Heeseung?"
Heeseung was convinced that he was in heaven now. What he wouldn't do to hear your voice every second of his life.
"Heeseung!" another voice interjected. That's what snapped Heeseung out of his daze. Too deep in his head, Heeseung hadn't noticed that the class period ended, and the short passing period had already begun.
At his desk stood Yunjin Huh, Minjeong "Winter" Kim, and... oh my god... you. The three of you had somewhat matching Halloween costumes: Yunjin was a gray mouse, Winter was a cat, and you were a bunny. And now that he looked at it, you all were holding a bag of candy.
While your two friends were giving him the"Are you serious?" looks, you looked at him with wide, kind eyes.
"Heeseung?" your beautiful voice said, fingers reaching into the candy bag that you were holding. "Would you like candy?"
He stared at you. You were giving out candy to everyone in class because it was Halloween... You're such an angel... What did the world do to deserve you...
Winter stepped on Heeseung's foot, snapping him out of his daze once again. The boy let out a small yelp in pain, and as the embarrassment settled in, he heard you let out a small giggle, lips raising up to show off your teeth.
Oh my god, he was going to die.
"Y-Yeah," he stammered out, cursing himself internally. Heeseung couldn't help but feel everyone in class's gaze glued to him. When you handed him a piece of candy, your hand brushed up against his. Heeseung could feel his ears becoming hot, the warmth rising to his neck.
You smiled at him, before saying in a sing-songy voice, "Happy Halloween!"
Heeseung had to force himself not to stare like an absolute fool.
He was really hopeless.
hee: jay i don't think i can do it tomorrow
It was 2AM when Heeseung texted Jay. He spent the entire night thinking about the "date" (probably the least necessary word at the moment), and he simply couldn't sleep.
Heeseung had embarrassed himself too many times in front of you. Like that one time you and him were on cleaning duty together, and he was so distracted by you that he tripped over a bucket of water. Or that one time he sat next to you for a few weeks and his shoes kept squeaking against the floor, making it look like he was farting. Or when he tried to look cool and suave in front of you at some social your friends invited him to only to rip a hole in his pants. And then what happened today... He could not embarrass himself again.
hee: like i think i'm going to die if she sits next to me tomorrow
It was only a matter of seconds when his friend texted back.
jay: you'll be fine trust
Heeseung frowned.
hee: stop lying to me
hee: you know how i am around her
jay: i believe in you
jay: like srsly
hee: that's blind faith
Jay typed for a little bit, before stopping altogether. Heeseung huffed. Did his friend just leave him on read? A few minutes later Jay sent a Wikihow article.
'How to talk to your crush,' it was aptly named. Heeseung deadpanned.
hee: are you being fr right now
jay: give [name] your sexy heeseung charm and you'll be walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her in no time
jay: read the article btw
How was this guy an actual person?
hee: kill yourself
jay: give her that passionate, sexy, boiling hot, hotter-than-the-sun, steaming hot heeseung that makes her just want to come up to you and give you the fattest, juiciest kiss on the mouth, i know you can do it soldier
hee: DIE
Heeseung couldn't sleep all night.
At school, the entire day was just plagued with anxiety for what was to come. It didn't help that your friends kept turning around and giving him knowing looks throughout the day. When school finally let out, Heeseung went to the classroom where the birdhouse-painting-bracelet-making-basket-weaving social would be held. His friends told him to go there the moment that school ended, but when he came, there was literally no one there.
Until someone yanked him into the classroom.
"Hey!-" he yelped, before the door slammed. In front of him stood two people that he recognized: Sumin Bae and Sieun Park, two of your friends who also coincidentally were the co-presidents of the Environment and Ecology club.
Sumin cocked a brow at him, crossing her arms. "I hope you're not as hopeless as everyone says you are."
Heeseung opened his mouth to respond, but Sieun cut him off.
"Ugh, that doesn't matter," she pinched her nose-bridge. "We told [Name] to sit near the front, so you better sit there, too."
"Right-" 
Sumin cut him off, too.
"[Name]'s favorite color is pink, and her favorite Sanrio character is Keroppi," Sumin asserted. "And she really likes things that are cute, so like fruit patterns, hearts, stars, yada yada."
Heeseung blinked at them. "And this is relevant how...?"
Sumin and Sieun shared a look.
"You are completely hopeless."
As it turned out, they were giving him details about design-elements that you liked, so that Heeseung could somehow impress you with his birdhouse painting abilities (Jungwon was right, it was birdhouse painting). After info-dumping on him, they kicked him out of the classroom to actually prepare for the social.
As Heeseung was pushed out of the classroom, he bumped into someone. Just as he was about to say, "Watch where you're going," he realized that it was you. 
"Oh, hi, Heeseung!" you greet him cheerfully, your eyes pressing into thin slits as you smile. 
Quick! What does he do? "Hi... [Name]."
"Are you here for the social, too?" The way your eyes gazed at him made him feel shy already.
"Y-Yeah...."
"I didn't know you were interested in the Environment and Ecology club..." You remarked, and Heeseung panicked— Was it obvious that he was here exclusively for you?— but what you said next made him sigh in relief. "That's great! I'm so happy that I finally have someone familiar with me here!"
He's going to faint.
When the social began, you invited him to sit next to you. Heeseung felt stiff as he sat beside you, watching the way that you happily painted your small, wooden birdhouse. Heeseung wanted to start a conversation with you, but each time he thought of something to say, his voice caught in his throat. Sumin and Sieun had given him two dirty looks already, so he needed to make a move now or their efforts would be in vain.
"W-What's that?" he finally stuttered out, pointing to the glob of green on your birdhouse. 
You laugh airily, leaning closer to him so that he can see it better. "Can you guess?"
Heeseung tries to concentrate on guessing, but it's hard when you're close to him. Quick! What's green and something that you like?
"Is that... K-Keroppi?"
"Yeah!" Your face lit up, flashing him a cheeky grin. You nudged him with your elbow, raising your brows at him playfully. "Awww, Hee, you smarty pants! How'd you know?"
Hee?
OhmygodohmygodohmygodyoucalledhimHee.
You stopped laughing, pulling away from him. "Sorry, do you not like being called Hee? Beomgyu sometimes calls you that, so I thought-"
"No, I like it!" Heeseung blurted, a little louder than he wanted to, earning a few questioning looks from people around him. The boy felt abnormally warm, embarrassed at his outburst. "I-I'm okay with you calling me that..."
"Noted!" you said, before your lips curled upward. "Now... are you going to tell me how you could tell that this green blob was Keroppi?"
"Oh uhm..." Heeseung's lips were moving faster than his head, "Y-You dressed up as Keroppi last year for Halloween with Yunjin."
Almost like you were a cartoon character, you perked up at his statement. "You remember?"
Of course he did. How could he forget? You wore a cartoonishly-big red bow around your neck like Keroppi, and had a green Keroppi-style headband. You looked adorable, especially when you went around showing off a Keroppi keychain that you got at the Cinnamoroll Cafe in Hongdae to anyone that was willing to listen.
Heeseung found himself chuckling. "Of course I'd remember your massive red bow."
You stared at him for a few moments, before a bashful grin broke out on your face. You then buried your face in your hands, letting out a groan. "Ughhhh, that's so embarrassing!"
"How?"
It's going good so far, Heeseung thought. Just don't mess it up!
You pouted cutely, your bottom lip jutting out. In the light, he could see the gloss shining off of it so prettily. "My makeup was so fucked up last year, ughhh, it looked so bad."
You? Look bad? Impossible.
"What are you talking about?" Heeseung asked, his doe-like eyes scanning your embarrassed face. "I thought you looked cute."
You stared at him. It took a few pulses for Heeseung to realize what he just said. His face instantly turned three shades warmer and panic was evident in his expression.
"I-I mean— You jus—You were really—"
He shut his mouth when you began laughing. Laughing so hard that you clutched onto his knee, keeling over yourself. His cheeks burned.
You're laughing at him, aren't you? Did he fuck up?
When you noticed the sulky expression on his face, you stopped laughing.
"Sorry, Hee," you said, giving his knee a reassuring squeeze. "It's just... You look so intimidating, when you're really just a sweetheart."
If Heeseung was red before, he was quietly literally the color of a tomato. It was a wonder that the entire room’s temperature didn’t rise given the sheer amount of heat radiating off his person.
"A s-sweetheart?"
"Yeah!" you happily respond. "You're just the cutest, y'know? Like a little puppy."
As much as Heeseung wanted to die happily now that you called him cute, he needed to keep this conversation going. Sucking in a sharp breath, the boy looked at you in the eyes. "W-Well I think the same about you... [Name]."
You looked at him curiously, so he continued, his voice soft and sheepish, "I... also think that you're the cutest."
You blinked at him a few times, before the widest smile that he'd ever seen spread across your cheeks, stretching ear to ear. If only Heeseung wasn't too busy grappling with his shyness, he'd notice the way you let out a soft, bashful giggle, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut to keep yourself from being too visibly flustered. Slowly, with all the courage that you had left in you, you raised your hand and placed it on Heeseung's head. You ruffled his soft locks, gushing, "God, you're so cute, Heeseung!"
The rest of the social is filled with soft chatter between the two of you, but Heeseung was honestly too captivated by you to notice the time passing. With his heart on his sleeve, and a sloppily-painted birdhouse in his hands, Heeseung mentally high-fived himself.
Heeseung's friends never heard the end of it. The moment that he got home, Heeseung spammed their groupchat, giving them paragraphs and paragraphs of the events that ensued.
hee: and then she called me cute. like CUTE CUTE, not even like she was alluding it, she used the word CUTE
hee: oh my god i think i'm gonna faint
His friends don't have it in them to flame him. After all, this was progress.
Unbeknownst to him, you were feeling the same things. Everyone knew that Heeseung liked you, except yourself. You had the opposite case: you've had the biggest crush on Heeseung since middle school, but never told a single soul about it. You're a naturally expressive and sweet person, so it was so incredibly hard hiding your feelings for him. 
After all, under that handsome and brooding outer shell, you saw his softness. This past year, you've had so many miscellaneous interactions (at least, it seemed miscellaneous-- everyone but you knew that those interactions were set up) with Heeseung. At the beginning of each interaction, he'd act all mysterious, but as time passed, he'd speak so softly and slowly unravel. 
It was so, so cute. Heeseung was so cute. To say you wanted him would be an understatement. No words were sufficient to fully express the nights that you stayed awake thinking about him, or the makeup looks that you intricately practiced to impress him, or the sheer number of times that you had to hide the fact that you were staring at him.
Maybe you couldn't hide it any longer.
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"Wait, what?!"
Heeseung's heart dropped to his stomach the moment he heard the words leave his friend's lips. Chenle Zhong was one of you and Heeseung's mutual friends, and according to him, someone had confessed to you via a letter today.
"Are you serious?" Heeseung asked, pulling his bottom lip into his teeth, chewing pensively. "Do you know who wrote it?"
"Nope, but I'll try to get more info on it," Chenle frowned. "Yunjin says that [Name] laughed at the letter."
When Heeseung didn't say anything, Chenle continued. "Hey, man, that could be a sign, y'know?"
When Heeseung's face morphed into a confused expression, his friend added, "Like, maybe [Name] thinks it's a joke? Maybe she doesn't care for it."
That's what Heeseung hoped for.
Later, Chenle texted him a screenshot of the love letter. To say that Heeseung was appalled would be an understatement. The letter read,
'To my dearest [Name], you're as beautiful as the plum blossoms in the spring. Your lips are soft like pillows, pillows that I would love to fall into an eternal in. I love you, I love you, I'll love you until this paper decomposes and becomes a part of the earth, and maybe then they will be able to force me to forget you. Love, your admirer.'
Heeseung immediately sent it to his groupchat.
jakey: yo who invited shakespeare???
hoon: i had a stroke reading that
sunoo: "your lips are soft like pillows" is crazyyy
hee: chenle gave me updates, apparently [name] knows who the sender is
jay: AND WHO IS THE SENDER??
hee: i don't know
hee: but minjeong says that it's someone from class 2
niki: class 2 is full of snobs
jungwon: i'm still in shock because of "i'll love you until this paper decomposes"
hoon: WHAT IF IT'S JUNGSU HYUNG
niki: oh it's SO over for you heeseung-hyung
As it turned out, it was not, in fact, Jungsu Kim from Class 2, thanks to your friends, who were quite wonderful info-brokers. But he still didn't know who it was.
Laying in bed, Heeseung felt weight on his chest. You laughed at the letter. While that could mean that it was a joke, it could also mean that you thought the person writing the letter was funny... which could mean that you liked them back. Just the mere thought of you with someone else made Heeseung frown deeply. This entire time he was worried about how to act around you, completely ignoring the fact that you yourself could be interested in someone else! God, he was so stupid.
Heeseung needed to know who it was that sent it, and more importantly, if you were romantically interested in them.
Fear makes man do crazy things.
Like walking one's crush to school.
Look, Heeseung was mulling over the situation as he walked to school, when he saw you across the street, walking in the same direction as him. In what could only be called an adrenaline-high, Heeseung ran across the street up to you.
"[Name]!" he called out.
"Heeseung?—Oh my god!"
Poor boy was breathless, flushed in the face. It took him a few moments to catch his breath. Flashing you a grin, Heeseung said, "Let's walk to school together, [Name]."
You're silent for a few moments, before you return the smile. "Of course."
The walk was silent, only the sound of early morning traffic, footsteps against the concrete sidewalk, and the occasional sniffle courtesy of you filling the cold air between the two of you. Speaking of which, your sniffles began to get louder and more frequent. Now out of adrenaline, Heeseung was back to being shy.
Clearing his throat, Heeseung forced his voice out. "Are you— Are you sick?"
You sniffled again, bringing your hand up to swipe your nose. The two of you were at an intersection now, so you pressed the pedestrian button. "No, I just get sniffly when it's cold."
That's. So. Cute. Was what Heeseung was thinking. The way you were rubbing your hands together made you look so adorable, he just wanted to put you in his pocket. 
He must have been staring at you for a while, back in his you-loving daze, because Heeseung did not notice that the streetlight changed, and it was time for the pedestrians to pass.
Not to worry!
Heeseung was completely kicked out of his daze when your smaller hand grabbed his, pulling him along the street. His eyes were glued to the two of your hands, especially where they connected. For someone sniffly, your hands were warm. He liked the way that they fit in his.
Even in the cool morning air, Heeseung suddenly felt warm all over.
You were in the middle of the sidewalk when Heeseung stopped. Feeling bold, he dropped his schoolbag, and began slipping off his thick, black, leather jacket, before draping it over your shoulders. 
When you looked up at him with those curious doe eyes, all his boldness went away.
"Y-You're cold aren't you?" He avoided looking you in the eyes. "Just... Just take it. Y-You can give it back later... or whatever."
You giggled, slipping your arms into the sleeves.
God, you looked so cute in his jacket. Heeseung was going to melt.
And he did melt, because you began doing cute twirls to show off the jacket, posing for him.
"How do I look?" you cheekily asked, popping your leg up. 
Heeseung was speechless, his mouth just left agape. He had to force himself to speak.
"Cute..." he answered, barely audible.
A grin was growing on your face. "Sorry, I didn't hear you. How do I look?"
Heeseung squeezed his eyes shut, huffing. "I said you looked cute!"
The sight of Heeseung's pink cheeks and his cute little pout was enough for you to be satisfied. Before the boy could realize what he said, you picked up his school bag for him, shoving it into one of his hands, before snatching his free hand. You pulled him gently to continue walking, but Heeseung was frozen in place, eyes too busy on you.
"Heeeeee," you elongated your syllables. You squeezed his hand twice, tugging him again. "We can't be late to class, can we?"
Heeseung audibly gulped. "Y-Yeah. You're right.."
You guys began walking again, neither of you wanting to let each other’s hands go.
"And then she held my hand— Isn't that crazy?! She held my hand!"
"Heeseung-hyung, please, I am peeing right now."
It was the lunch period once again. As Heeseung and Sunghoon traversed the hallways to get to the stairwell, the older of two chatted about the events that morning.
"So you held her hand?" Sunghoon asked half-heartedly, barely listening. "And then what?"
Heeseung perked up. "And then we walked to class together, and then she—"
"That's cool and all," the younger friend was walking in front of him. Sunghoon turned over his shoulder. "But did you get any more information about the letter fiasco?"
Oh. 
No, Heeseung didn't.
When they reached the rooftop, his friends gently nudged him to get more information about the letter. 
"You don't want to have one of those 'too late' moments, right?" Jungwon said, chewing on his rice ball. "What if by the time you gather the courage to talk to her, [Name] is already walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her secret admirer?!"
"What's with you guys and walking off into the sunset..." Heeseung muttered, running a hand through his hair. 
"I'm serious, hyung!"
"I second that," Jay said lazily.
"I second that," Riki mocked in a squeaky voice, earning him a soft smack at the back of his head.
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Heeseung asked, frustrated. "I can talk to her or her friends later, but not right now."
Jake scoffed. "What's stopping you from going back inside and talking to [Name] right now?"
The eldest boy didn't have an answer. That's true. There wasn't anything stopping Heeseung from talking to you right now. All the boys were now watching him for an answer, ready to pounce on him for being a coward.
"I don't know!" Heeseung finally said. "I've used up all of my bravery today... I don't think I have it in me to talk to her!"
His friends stared at him questioningly, until the silence was broken by Sunoo taking a loud and very obviously fake phonecall.
"Hi! Yes! Mhm. He's right here. Yeah. Mhm. Thank you!"
Sunoo hung up loudly, and looked at Heeseung with a cocked brow. "I was just on the phone with Yunjin. She says you should probably go talk to [Name]."
Heeseung looked at Sunoo incredulously, but the expectant expressions on his friends' faces made him groan.
"Fine!"
As Heeseung creeped down the school hallway, he came to the classroom that you hung out in at lunch: your homeroom. Standing outside the door, the boy took a deep breath.
Relax, it's just [Name], he had to tell himself, as if that helped at all. What was he even going to say? 
'Hey, are you dating the person that sent you that letter? If you aren't, do you want to get married to me? Haha.'
????
Just as Heeseung was about to slide the door open, he heard a very familiar laugh from inside. Of course he could recognize it. After all, it was you. 
"Yuri is so cute!" he heard you giggle. "She wrote me that little letter as a joke, but I think I'm actually in love with her."
In.
Love.
With.
Her.
"Awww, Yuri, come here and give me a kiss!"
Come.
Give.
You.
A.
Kiss.
"I'm gonna marry you, Yuri!"
Marry.
You.
Yuri.
To Heeseung, everyone was an enemy. No matter their gender or class, the moment that he heard that you got a love letter, everyone became a suspect. It all made sense now. Yuri Jo, the 'Yuri' that you were talking about and to, was from Class 2. He knew that you and her were friends, but he didn't know that you were romantically interested in her. 
Jungwon was right. Now you were going to walk off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her!
hee: guys what if [name] is already taken :(
jakey: what are you on about this time
There was something scary about a 6-feet tall guy mulling around and sulking all day, so luckily no one got in Heeseung's way as he brooded. Unfortunately, he felt his heart hurt whenever he looked at you. Almost cartoonishly, he'd turn away, close his eyes in dramatic pain, and pout. Although he acted a little bit theatrical, it was no doubt that Heeseung felt sad. He really thought he had a chance with you, and now he felt stupid.
Except, he was stupid.
But for a different reason.
"Jesus Christ, you're actually hopeless, Heeseung."
After school, your friends cornered him, somewhere where you wouldn't see. His friends were somehow in close communication with your friends.
"I can't believe you thought me and [Name] were actually dating!"
Heeseung scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, as he leaned against a locker. Before him stood Yunjin, Winter, Yuri, along with a few other of your friends, Hitomi and Minju. 
"I don't know!" Heeseung huffed. "Everyone is an enemy to me—” he glanced at Yuri— “Including Yuri.”
Yunjin scoffed in disbelief. "You're insane."
Soooo... You weren't in any romantic relationship with anyone. Yuri sent you that letter as a joke, and you were just really close to her. Good.
"I don't know how I feel about this guy getting with our [Name]," Winter muttered to Hitomi and Minju, but loud enough for Heeseung to hear.
"Hey!"
"I know, he's a total dumbass," Minju grumbled back.
"Dude, I'm right here!"
Hitomi rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Well, are you free on Friday after school?"
"Yeah, why?" They always asked Heeseung that question when they had some crazy plan up their sleeve. Not like he was any better.
"Wellll," Hitomi began in a sing-songy voice. "[Name] really wants to go to that Cinnamoroll Sweet Cafe in Hongdae on Friday, but none of us are available."
Heeseung nodded slowly. 
"I think it'd be a good way for you to get closer to her, dontcha think?"
And that's how Heeseung scored his first (unofficial) date with you
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When your friends told you that Heeseung would accompany you to Hongdae, you almost jumped for joy. Almost. Friday couldn't come any faster. The plan was that you'd meet Heeseung at the train station at 4:30PM, meaning that you had a bit of time to change and get ready. You didn't want to get too ahead of yourself and call it a date, but oh boy did you want to.
What were you going to wear? What if you were too formal? Should you go for a casual look or something more put-together? You needed to impress him!
When Friday came, you practically ran home to get ready. You perfected your makeup, and put on your prettiest outfit. Spraying yourself with your signature perfume, you looked in the mirror. Hopefully, he'll like how you look. 
At the corner of your eye, you spot a black, leather jacket. His black, leather jacket. Without even thinking, you slinked toward it, slipping into the jacket. It smelled like him, the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the leather.
With a final glance in the mirror, you left for the train station.
On the other hand, to say that Heeseung was nervous for the date was an understatement. His heart was about to fall out of chest. He changed into something more casual, made sure to brush out his disheveled hair, and reapplied his cologne. He came to the train station 20 minutes early, just in case something went terribly wrong. He glanced at his phone. For the date, he managed to get a hold of your number, for “communication purposes.” He’d wanted to text you all week, but didn’t have the courage to.
“Hee?” your soft voice calling his name got his attention. Behold, you standing there before him, all dolled up and pretty. This must be the sight he’ll see when he enters heaven, he thought. 
“Hi,” he said, his eyes glazing over your face. You were so pretty. Did you dress up for him? He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but the idea that you wanted to look good for him made Heeseung’s heart skip a beat. “You look…”
He didn’t mean to say that. You smile bashfully. “I look…?”
“So pretty,” Heeseung breathed. “You look so pretty.”
“Thank you,” you smile. Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt, playing with it, which sends his heart racing. “Well, I think you look handsome, Hee.”
“Th-Thanks.”
The two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments, and Heeseung swears that you’re looking at his lips. You spoke up, breaking the silence. “You notice anything about me?”
Heeseung grasped the collar of his jacket gently with both hands. “My jacket.”
“I was going to give it back to you earlier,” you begin, eyes trained on his lips, “But I think I’ll keep it for today, yeah? Since I look so pretty in it.”
“Oh fuck,” Heeseung cursed under his breath, loud enough for you to hear it and giggle. “Yeah, you can keep it for as long as you want.”
“As long as I want?” you purred, taking a step closer to him. Although it wasn’t clear to anyone else, you were a mess inside. Your heart was palpitating so hard that you could hear it in your ears. Your throat felt dry, and your hands were shaking with mere anxiety and excitement. “What about forever?”
Heeseung cracked a grin. “Do whatever you want. You’re pretty.”
If it wasn’t for the train announcement, you thought you would have kissed his pretty lips right then and there. Taking Heeseung’s hand, you led him to your train cart. 
“Let’s go, Hee.”
The train is much more packed than you expected, but it was the beginning of the weekend after all. The trip from Gyeonggi Province to Hongdae should take no less than an hour. Unfortunately, because of the amount of people in the train, you and Heeseung had to stand for the majority of the time. It should have been uncomfortable, but it simply wasn't. Because you were with Heeseung.
Standing only a few inches away from the boy, your chests almost pressed against each other. You could feel his breath fan your cheeks. The both of you held onto the pole, hands barely brushing against each other when the cart shook against the rails. 
At some point, the shaking was a lot more aggressive than it had previously been. Instinctively, your hand reached for his broad shoulders for stability. Likewise, Heeseung reached for your waist, holding you in place. You and Heeseung shared a long, drawn-out look, eyes getting lost in one another's, before you both avert your gazes shyly, muttering, "sorry." Yet, neither of you moved your hands from their newfound positions.
As minutes passed on the train, your eyes were glued to Heeseung, at least when he wasn't watching. 
You loved the reddish blush that naturally decorated his under-eyes, and the natural corally red at tinted the tip of his ears. His glossy eyes and heart-shaped lips had to be your favorite feature of his, if not for his large, yet delicate hands, so gentle and soft.
You were deep in thought when you suddenly felt a hand creeping on your leg. Nimble fingers from behind, brushing up against the hem of your dress. From the corner of your eye, you saw an older man. He looked unkempt and scruffy, like a delinquent– but nothing like Heeseung. Heeseung looked much better than him.
The man reeked of cigarettes and musk. A nasty grin spread across his face as he peered down at your exposed legs. His hands creeped toward them again, now slightly pushing your dress up. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your entire body stiffening. Your heart began to pound in your chest, your cheeks and skin feeling hot. 
Panic overtook your system. Your once soft breaths became much shorter and quicker, inhaling and exhaling shallow air.
You’ve never been in a situation like this; you’d  never wished, thought, or even considered something like this happening to you– why would you? You had no idea what to do, and were not at all prepared for this. The train was packed to the brim, this man was much bigger and stronger than you, and you did not know how to fight.
The hand moved past your skirt, now under it and directly in contact with your skin. The hand felt dirty, brushing against you. A small frantic whimper escaped your lips when the man’s hand squeezed your bare thigh. It was a small sound, barely audible in the vast bustle of the subway. However, someone did hear it.
Heeseung, doe-eyed and lost in his own world, immediately darted his eyes over to you the moment he heard a sound of discomfort. 
When your eyes met, you could only signal helplessly. Your gaze was wide, pupils dilated, with fear and panic. Heeseung’s eyes narrowed, staring into your eyes for a moment before analyzing your expression. The way you were extremely tense and overwrought casted a sense of suspicion in his head, and your eyes that were seemingly pleading him made him think.
Help, your eyes said.
Heeseung’s dark eyes flickered from your face, to your entire body language, and back to your face, before he spotted a few, foreign fingers creeping around your leg area.
Your shifty eyes kept moving from Heeseung’s to the side, but now that he looked at it, it was like they were pointing behind you. And lo and behold, behind you was a musky pervert, who was shamelessly touching you.
“[Name]…” he whispered. His fists clenched, teeth gritting. He sucked in a deep breath, feeling anger build up in his stomach. You whimpered again in response. He brought a hand to ghost over your shoulder, pushing you very, very, gently to the side. “Move.”
He wound up his fist and sent the hardest punch he could muster to the man square in the jaw.
The man lurched back immediately, his hand moving far, far, away from you. A groan left his lips, his head being thrown back in pain. The man’s fall had pushed a few other people down as well. Other bystanders watched on in shock. Some took out their phones to record and take pictures, others to tell their friends.
You just stood still, leaning into Heeseung, whose fist was a faint red color. With a very careful hand, he brushed the lifted hem of your dress down, which had been messed with earlier.
The man quickly got up once he noticed the new and tense silence over the subway cart.
“Hey!” he shouted, pushing himself up from his downtrodden position. “You little punk, who the fuck do you think you-”
The train announcer called for the stop. Heeseung, ignoring the man, took your arm, pulling you out the door. Before he himself left, Heeseung landed a kick to the man’s crotch, muttering, “Fucking bastard.”
"W-Wait, Hee-!"
Heeseung was silent as the train doors opened, only pulling you along with him. When the two of you were far from the train, he finally stopped, turning to you.
"Are you okay?" was all he asked. You shifted uncomfortably at the thought of what happened earlier.
"Y-Yeah..." you played with the hem of his jacket sheepishly. "Thanks for what you did back there."
Heeseung jolted up at the mention. He didn't love using violence, despite his 'delinquent' reputation, especially in front of you. His hands joined yours at the hem of his jacket, shyly brushing up against yours. 
"Next time," he began, beginning to play with the zipper, "I'll fight every person on that train so that you can sit."
You smiled softly. "You don't have to do that, Hee."
Heeseung slowly zipped up his jacket on you, meeting your eyes, before straightening out your collar. 
"But I want to," he breathed. You gazed at him. His hands were still on the collar of the jacket, close to your face. You noticed the red smudges on his knuckles from punching the man on the train. You took that hand, opening it up, and nuzzling your cheek into it. You took his other hand. To Heeseung's surprise, you pressed soft kisses on his knuckles, rubbing them with your thumb.
"What are you..." his breath hitched when your eyes flickered to his, holding steady eye-contact. 
You pressed one last kiss on his palm. "Thank you, Hee. Really."
"Of course, [Name]," he finally whispered. "Anything for you."
And so, your first date with Heeseung began.
The sweet scent of cinnamon and pastries hit your noses the moment you guys stepped into the Cinnamoroll Cafe. When you were seated, you took a look at the menu. So far, the date was going smoothly. Other than the run-in at the beginning, the chemistry between the two of you was sparking. The conversation was flowing, and if that already wasn't a dream come true, you kept touching Heeseung. On your end, you were practically vibrating in your seat with the sheer amount of excitement you had bubbling in you. You couldn't believe you were on a date with the Heeseung Lee sharing a strawberry banana parfait. 
"Hee," you said, motioning him to come closer to you. He did, so you cupped his cheek, bringing your thumb up to wipe a stray piece of the parfait from his cheek. 
"Oh-" Heeseung's face reddened. How embarrassing! Did you think he was a slob now? You only giggled, bringing both hands up to hold his face. You squished the boy's cheeks, laughing at the way his brows cutely crashed into each other.
"You're so cute, Hee," you said, playing with his cheeks. "The cutest."
That's all you, he thought. You're going to drive him crazy.
Or, at least he thought he thought.
Did he just say that out loud? Heeseung groaned when you threw your head back laughing, hiding his own face in your palms. You chuckled.
Feeling bold, you cupped his cheeks again. You leaned closer, holding his face close to yours. You kissed a soft and chaste kiss on his nose. You couldn't help the heat that rose to your cheeks as the boy flopped over the table, hiding his face in his arms. You ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly, cooing at his cuteness.
"You can't do this to me," Heeseung murmured.
You laughed. It wouldn't hurt to tease him a little more, right? You leaned down, giving the boy another kiss. This time, though, you kissed the top of his head.
"Hee, baby, you're just the cutest, you know that right?"
Heeseung combusted.
After the Cafe, Heeseung and you walked around the Hongdae Festival Street. By now, it was beginning to get darker outside, the air cooling down. It was cold, but to Heeseung, it was perfect, because now he had an excuse to hold your hand. As the two of you walked and talked, you enjoyed the sight of the lights and bustling street. 
Suddenly, a new voice interrupted the two of you's conversation. Turning around, you saw two guys who looked around your age. They were holding a camera and a microphone.
"Hi!" they said, smiling. "We're interviewing couples in Hongdae, would you guys like to be in it? We’ll blur your faces."
Heeseung glanced your joined hands, then back at the two guys, then back at your hands, "O-Oh, we're not a coupl—"
You cut him off. "Of course, we'd love to!"
You flashed Heeseung a grin, squeezing his hand twice, almost as if to say, 'Just go with it.' His ears began to burn, his neck prickling with warmth, before clearing his throat. "Y-Yeah..." he squeezed your hand, "We'd love to."
The two guys cheered, turning on their camera. "All right, first question. How did you guys meet?"
"We went to middle school together," you were quick to answer. "I thought he was really cute, but we didn't start talking until this year."
You didn't know what the fuck you were saying. Was it risky to be so truthful for an internet interview, right in front of your long-time crush? Absolutely. But your heart was pounding so hard in your chest, simply waiting for Heeseung's response.
On the other hand, Heeseung's mind was in complete shambles. Were you telling the truth? The way you answered so smoothly with absolutely no hesitation made it almost seem natural.
"And you?" the interviewer asked. "What did you think about her when you first met?"
"I—" Heeseung's breath hitched. "I thought she was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen."
The way you glanced at him made Heeseung's heart feel like it was about to fall out. "I.. I still think that."
Your expression was unreadable, your lips pressing into a thin line. Then, a huge smile broke out on your face.
"Awww, Heeeee! I didn't know you thought about me like that!" You squeezed his hand again, and he squeezed it back.
"How long have you guys been together?" the interviewer asked.
"We just started dating!" You answered enthusiastically, a weird, surprised sound coming from Heeseung.
The rest of the interview went smoothly, with you mostly answering the questions. You quietly thanked the interviewers, and you and Heeseung were on your way.
Your words kept ringing in Heeseung's head.
Especially your answer to the question, "Why did you like him?"
You answered, "Because he's so perfect."
Heeseung? Perfect? He couldn't believe his ears! Were you telling the truth?
A calm silence fell over you and Heeseung as you walked the bustling streets of Hongdae. That question lingered in his mind, and before he knew it, his mouth was moving faster than his mind.
"Did you mean anything you said?"
His voice seemed to reverberate against the night air, ringing in his ears. You chewed on your lip. Then, you sucked in a sharp breath.
"Of course, Hee," you finally answered. "If it's you, I mean everything."
Heeseung sucked his bottom lip into his teeth, biting down so hard he drew blood. Once again, his hands found home on the hem of his jacket draped over you. 
"Good." He couldn't meet your eyes, not with the knowledge that you meant everything you said. He forced his attention onto the hem of the leather jacket that you were wearing, too shy to look at you. 
Heeseung only looked up when he felt your thumb pressing against his lip, eyes widening.
"Don't bite your lip too hard, Hee," you said, a smile in your voice. You thumb swiped against his lip, wiping off the small blotch of blood on it. "You'll bleed, and I'll have to kiss it better."
Heeseung's tongue darted out to swipe over his bleeding lip, brushing against your thumb. "What if I want you to kiss it better?"
"Well, then you better not keep me waiting."
His eyes flickered to your lips. He wanted to kiss them so bad. They looked so soft. What would they taste like? You liked strawberries— maybe they'd taste like that. When he didn't say or do anything, you changed the topic, unable to hide the disappointment in your face.
"Did you mean it?" You asked. "When you said that I was the most beautiful person you'd ever seen?"
"Oh my god, yes," Heeseung said under his breath, eyes still trained on your lips. "Always."
Another silence fell of you two, simply getting lost in each other's eyes. Maybe it was something in the Hongdae air, but Heeseung felt brave. His hand slithered to your waist, bringing you closer to him. When you slid your hands up his chest, resting them on his shoulders, Heeseung audibly gulped. Your faces inched closer and closer, until you could feel his breath against your cheek. You wanted to lean in and close the gap so bad. And you could tell that he wanted to, too.
Just as you were about to, however, the sound of a car honking and tires screeching interrupted you. Heeseung instinctively pulled away, his head whipping around to look at the commotion.
Oh hell no.
You were not going to let that stop you.
You snatched Heeseung's hand, before pulling him with you. You don't know how much you ran, or for how long, but you ran and ran until you found an empty alleyway.
You pushed him against the hard, concrete wall, a bit harsher than you expected too. Holding him by his shoulders, you put all your weight on him, caging him against the wall.
"You'd let me kiss you, right?" you rasped, out of breath.
Heeseung, also breathless, stared at you, lips parted. 
"I thought I already said," he breathed, "Do whatever you want. You're pretty."
With that, you crashed your lips onto his. His lips were soft, a little chapped. It felt so surreal. The scent of his cologne made you feel dizzy. When you pulled away, it was evident that he was feeling the same as you were. 
It was a chaste kiss, but the tension was so thick in the air. Somehow, that made it even more intimate.
"Wow..." was all Heeseung could utter. Under the moonlight, with you pressed up against him, you looked so goddamn pretty. Your face was illuminated with the pale light, making you look like an angel. Was he in heaven? Did he die yet? He wouldn't mind if he died right then and there, now that you (you!) kissed him. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me, [Name]."
"But you'd like it, right? Because I'm so pretty." The teasing tone in your voice would normally make Heeseung melt, but all he could do was grin. 
"You know I would."
The rest of the night, you and Heeseung don't kiss anymore. Not because you guys didn't want to kiss, but because the adrenaline wore off, and now the both of you were shy. It was almost comical, the way both of you completely reverted back to your bashful and sheepish selves, barely able to make eye-contact with each other.
"Thank you for tonight, Hee," you hummed, as you and Heeseung walked to the train station, hand-in-hand. "I had a lot of fun."
He scanned your face. The slight curve on your lips (oh god, your lips, the way the corner of your lip had a smudge of lipstick from kissing him earlier —how badly he wanted to kiss them again) was contagious. "Of course. I had a lot of fun, too."
The train ride back was quiet. You eventually began dozing off, resting your head on his shoulder.
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"You did what?!" was the collective reaction of both you and Heeseung's friends. After that Friday together, you called together all of your friends to your house, to spill the beans. Likewise, Heeseung forced every single one of his friends into his living room.
"Ouuu, you little flirt!" Yunjin exclaimed. Currently, Yunjin, Winter, Hitomi, Yuri, and Minju were seated on your bedroom floor, while you dramatically flopped around on your bed. 
It was now that you explained to your friends your long-time crush on Heeseung, much to their pleasant surprise.
"And then what happened?" Minju asked, filing her finger-nails. "Did you profess your undying love for him?"
You groaned into your pillow. "I can't!"
"Why not?" Winter quirked a brow. "You guys literally kissed."
You let out another groan. "What if he doesn't like me like that?"
Your friends deadpanned.
Heeseung Lee didn't like you. He loved you. They would know better than anyone.
"[Name], honey, you're overthinking it," Yuri nudged you with her foot. "He gave you his jacket. I think that says enough."
"Well, what if I'm just getting ahead of myself and he's just being nice?"
"Girl..."
Heeseung had a similar reaction.
All of his friends stared at him like he just punched their grandmothers.
"You can't be serious right now, hyung..." Sunghoon said, pinching his nose-bridge.
All of his friends were piled onto one couch, while Heeseung laid out on the one across from them, almost like they were in a therapy session. 
"What if she just thinks I'm a good friend?" Heeseung used his hands to speak, theatrically moving them.
"What makes you think that?" Sunoo asked incredulously. 
Heeseung groaned. "[Name] tells Yuri Jo that she wants to marry her and they're good friends."
"Okay, and?"
"Well," Heeseung huffed. "What if [Name] kissed me because she sees me the same way that she sees Yuri?"
"Well, I'm good friends with Jungwon-hyung and I don't kiss him," Riki said matter-of-factly.
"Right..." Jungwon nodded his head slowly. "Hyung, do you really think a good friend would pin you against a wall and kiss you?"
"Do you think a good friend would kiss you three times and then call you cute like a bajillion other times?!" Jake chimed in.
"Let alone choose to keep your jacket?!" Jay sounded tired.
Heeseung clasped his hands together, thinking for a few moments.
"Yes."
All of his friends groaned in defeat.
"You're hopeless."
After a lot of urging and cross-communication between friend-groups, both of your friends managed to convince both you and Heeseung to confess to each other the next Monday.
"What if I faint the moment she says my name?" Heeseung catastrophized to Jay in the school bathroom. 
"Uh, I doubt that, hyung."
Heeseung texted you to meet him under the stairwell, and that was when he was going to confess. On your end, the moment that he texted that, you decided that you'd confess to him then.
When the time came, Heeseung headed out to the stairwell. His hands were clammy, and even when he wiped him on his uniform pants, he couldn't stop the trembling of his hands. What if everyone was instilling false hope in him? Gosh, Heeseung thought he was going to throw up. His stomach was churning, he was going to collapse if he saw you right now—
"Hee?" Your voice broke him out of his internal spiral. Seemingly, there was a halo around you, a light so bright that Heeseung was blinded.
"H-Hi," he stammered, straightening out his posture and clearing his throat.
Your hands were clasped behind your back, leaning forward toward him. "You wanted to talk to me, yeah?"
Heeseung couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze, his shoes suddenly becoming interesting. "Y-Yeah..."
The hallway where the stairwell was located was beginning to feel stuffy. Heeseung had never felt so nervous in his life. He was light-headed, barely able to even balance himself.
"Hee," you reached out to touch his arm, noticing his discomfort. "Let's go outside, okay?"
Going outside should have helped him cool down, but when you shrugged on his leather jacket to combat the cool air, Heeseung realized that there was no way in hell that he was going to get through this confession without dropping dead. 
The two of you walked around the school yard for a few minutes in silence. 
How should he start this confession? He had Sunghoon and Jake write out a script for him, and he spent the entire night memorizing it, but now in your presence he couldn't remember a single word. Should he have written a letter like Yuri Jo? Heeseung couldn't possibly contain himself.
"Hee," you finally said, disrupting the silence. "I have something to tell you."
Heeseung's mind wandered to the worst case scenario. 
You're going to tell him that you're moving across the world to marry the love of your life, aren't you? You're going to say that he's a great friend and that you just got a boyfriend, right? 
No, he needed to tell you his feelings first! If he didn't now, he'd never, and he'd burst into a million pieces!
"M-Me too!" he blurted, stopping in his tracks. 
You blinked at him, then smiled.
Oh, no! It's actually happening!
He could already hear your voice saying, "Hi, Heeseung, my boyfriend just proposed to me and you're invited to the wedding."
You sucked in a breath, parting your lips to speak.
He needed to tell you first! The little demons in his head kept replaying the scene of you asking him to be your groom of honor at your wedding with the love of your life next Saturday. He could hear the marriage officiant announcing, “I now pronounce you husband and wife” at your wedding, and he imagined himself sitting in that little wedding venue holding back tears.
Oh my god, he needed to say it now, or he'll never say it ever!
"Hee, I really--"
Heeseung cut you off. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands balling into fists.
"I like you, [Name]!" he yelled.
.
.
.
You stared at him in disbelief. Or were you flustered? Heeseung couldn't tell. With too much adrenaline in his veins, Heeseung threw away all the preparation and drafted scripts he and his friends made for this very moment.
"I-I.. I like you so much, I'm scared that I'm going to explode!" Heeseung continued shouting at you. He had no idea what he was saying. All he was doing was telling you the thoughts he'd had about you all this time. "You're so, so, so pretty and I can't believe that you're an actual, real, physical, person, and you make me feel so fucking stupid, I can't take it."
Your eyes were bulging out of your head at this point, your jaw dropped. 
"I've never liked anyone like I've liked you, a-and I just wanted to tell you this before you... you go off with someone else!"
Heeseung kept his eyes shut when he was done confessing, letting out a labored breath. There was no way that he could face you. The silence that fell over the two of you made Heeseung's heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. He squeezed his eyes in embarrassment. He gripped the hem of his shirt to relieve the bubbling anxiety inside him. Gosh, he was going to puke.
After a few moments, nothing happened. You didn't say a word. Did you just leave him there standing? Of course, you did. You were probably too kind and angelic to outright reject him. He was a fool to think that he had a chance with you—
Heeseung heard footsteps, and before he could react, he felt a pair of lips on his.
His eyes shot open.
You.
Were.
Kissing.
Him.
!!!
After he confessed!
Poor boy was so stiff, eyes wide.
Did that mean you liked him back?
You pulled away.
Usually, you had a reassuring smile on your face by default. Even during times where you were embarrassed, you almost never showed it on your face.
But this time, your entire face was painted with a flustered expression. Your cute lips jutted out in a mini pout, while your eyes were glued to the ground, avoiding his gaze.
A few pulses passed.
"I... I like you, too... by the way," you murmured.
Another few pulses passed.
You. Liked. Him.
Nonononono wait, was he dreaming?
You.
YOU.
The beautiful, angelic you. 
Liked him.
Without thinking, Heeseung stepped forward, gently grabbing your face.
"You're real, right?" he breathed. When glossy eyes stared back at him, Heeseung felt warmth spread across his chest. Your lips looked so appealing right now, he was craving them again. "I'm not dreaming, yeah?"
You blinked at him a few times. The corners of your lips quirked upward.
"Why, because I'm 'so pretty that you can't believe I'm real?' " your voice had a teasing tone in it, referencing his earlier confession. Heeseung chuckled, letting go of your face so that he could slide his hands to where they belonged: around your waist.
"Just kiss me," he mumbled, looking at you with lidded eyes.
You grinned. "Gladly."
With that, you smashed your lips onto his. Instead of the chaste, soft, kisses that you shared earlier, this one was different. You shoved your tongue into Heeseung's mouth, exploring all its crevices. Poor boy was so surprised that he squeezed your waist, letting out a small whine. The feeling of you smirking against his lips gave him butterflies.
You finally pulled away breathless, but gave him no time to breathe. You grasped his chin, giving you easy control. 
"You drive me so crazy," he murmured against the shell of your ear.
You pressed a kiss at the juncture between his neck and ear. "I drive you crazy?" you cocked your brow.
"You," you muttered. You began pressing kisses down his jaw. 
“Drive.” 
Kiss.
“Me.” 
Kiss. 
“So-” 
Kiss.
"Fucking-" 
Kiss.
"Crazy."
Before you could pounce on him with more kisses, Heeseung, red in the face, flopped over you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He let out a cute groan.
"What, are you getting shy on me?" you teased him, running your fingers through his hair. He shook his head against your shoulder, making you coo.
"I can't believe you like me back, that's all," he mumbled, muffled by your shoulder. 
You laughed. "How? I feel like I was so obvious."
Heeseung looked up at you with pink cheeks, frowning. "You don't even want to know how hopelessly in love with you I was."
You quirked a brow at him. 
"Yeah?" You pecked his forehead. "Try me."
Heeseung let out a breathy chuckle. He attacked your lips.
"How about I show you?"
FIN.
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