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#sorry it’s taking me so long to get through it btw
cyncerity · 2 years
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how did tubbo and ranboo meet and get engaged in your bet on the crown au?
FUNNY YOU SHOULD ASK I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT THIS EARLIER TODAY-
also i’m so so sorry but this spiraled out of my control it’s really long but it does have the full story of how Rambo and Tubbo met and got engaged and probably way more!!
tw: descriptions of violence and minor mouthplay ig
Ok so i’ve mentioned that Ranboo met Tubbo when he saved his life, and Tubbo partnered his country with Ranboo’s as a thank you. I also mentioned that Endermen and Fae have a really bad history with each other.
All in all, Tubbo hated Ranboo when they first met.
This was back when Tubbo was crowned official prince of Snowchester, so he didn’t fully comprehend how much of a target it would put on his back at first. Therefore, when he was jumped by a couple of Endermen, he didn’t see it coming, and was quickly injured very badly. One of his wings got bent, so he couldn’t fly properly, and they managed to crack a few of his ribs before Tubbo stopped fighting as hard. He couldn’t focus on using his magic as well through the pain, so they manage to steal him back to their camp that they set up in a little tent in Enderia (not an uncommon sight since Enderia has a large community marketplace [think of a more gothic Agrabah from Aladdin]) and try to start the arduous process of killing a fae for their magic. Tubbo is pretty helpless as they begin to draw blood and mix the rest of the ingredients for whatever potion they were trying to make. It doesn’t work, and Tubbo sits slowly dying from blood loss as they fail to make the potion right over and over and just keep drawing more and more blood. Eventually one of the Endermen just gives up and tries to eat him, but thank god Ranboo has good timing.
Tubbo had just been placed in the kidnapper’s mouth when Ranboo walks in to the dinky tent that was set up assuming that it was a shop, but was mortified to see that green glow coming from the other Enderman’s mouth. He quickly knocks out both of the kidnappers and rescues Tubbo, who is barely hanging onto consciousness. Plus side of being in a drug tent though is that there are potions and magic healing aids everywhere, and Ranboo quickly helps get Tubbo everything he needs. By the end of it, Tubbo is fully awake again and in much less pain. Ranboo has wrapped his wing since the healing pots didn’t do much for that, and wrapped his chest just to be sure. (i have a funky little doodled comic of Ranboo being a simp in this moment when Tubbo takes of his spit-soaked vest and Ranboo’s just basically the ‘oh no he’s hit meme’ i’ll post it later)
Ranboo wants to take Tubbo back to Showchester, but Tubbo refuses. He knows how much it’ll scare his citizens and he doesn’t want an Enderman knowing where he lives anyway. So he begrudgingly agrees that it would be best for him to spend the night in Enderia, since he can’t fly home with a busted wing, and it should only take a few days to heal with all the healing shit they did to it earlier.
Only when Ranboo gets back does Tubbo realize he’s a prince, cause holy fuck that castle is big. Tubbo asks why Ranboo didn’t say anything earlier, and Ranboo confesses that he just doesn’t like being treated like over the top royalty. He wanted to take Tubbo back to snowchester because 1. he’d be more comfortable there and 2. he wouldn’t have to reveal himself as a prince. He then asks why a prince was looking through public shops when he’s obviously very rich judging by the palace. They just say they like to give back to their citizens.
The next few days don’t go…perfectly. Tubbo refuses to let Ranboo tell anyone that he’s in the castle; he’s terrified of Endermen now. Ranboo he can kind of excuse cause he saved his life, but he still doesn’t like the guy.
Meanwhile, Ranboo is kind of smothering Tubbo. They’ve been really worried about him, to the point of almost treating him like a toddler cause of his small size. Theyre driving him crazy. At some point, Tubbo just snaps and blows up (literally, given that he has explosive powers) at Ranboo, yelling that he’s not a kid and shouldn’t be treated like one. He’s almost 17, he leads a country, he’s faced much, much worse than this minor injury because he built a country at 15 and was its lead General until he became the prince.
This is when Ranboo learns 3 things: Tubbo is about the same age as him if not a bit older, Tubbo is also a prince apparently (and he was yelling at Ranboo about hiding his title like a hypocrite), and Tubbo probably has a lot of undiagnosed and mostly ignored mental issues. After all, if he went through things more traumatic than a kidnapping and near death experience as a 15 year old, there’s no way he was ok, especially not judging from the scars that Ranboo could see and whatever he couldn’t. And if he was a prince, that meant there was a good chance he was shouldering it alone. Ranboo would know.
He treats Tubbo a lot more maturely after that, which Tubbo appreciates. He does end up getting well enough to fly back to Snowchester, but he’s only there for a few days before gossips start to explode. The Endermen prince had issued a formal apology to the Fae as a whole, but in specific to the kingdom of Snowchester for the harm of their prince. He made it very clear that nothing like what happened to him should happen to anyone, royalty or not. He also stated that the two men who kidnapped Tubbo were behind bars, as they will be for the rest of their lives for kidnapping, illegal substances found in the tent, trying to murder a prince and, somehow most controversially, attempted murder.
The Fae were confused but mostly hopeful for this, thinking that maybe it could be the start of a less violent relationship with Enderia, but a lot of the more bigoted Endermen where furious that Ranboo punished the men with the same ruling that someone who tried to kill a fellow Endermen would get, but Ranboo stood his ground. In fact, he created a new law stating that no one should refuse someone of something for their size or species, and acts of violence and harm against Fae will result in severe punishment no matter the severity of the injury to the Fae. He led protests against the people in his city who didn’t agree with this, and helped try to change their mind.
Tubbo saw it all. He kept up to date with what Ranboo was doing, and was shocked to say the least. He didn’t know that Ranboo would fight so hard for his people, for him. This all stemmed because Ranboo saw him get kidnapped. It happened all the time to fae, he assumed Ranboo knew that. He assumed that Ranboo only cared so much about him getting better because he was a prince, not just because he was a person. He didn’t even do all this when he was there! He waited until he was safe and home before starting a riot, but all that really showed Tubbo was that Ranboo meant it all. This wasn’t some publicity thing, it wasn’t an attempt to make Tubbo like him or something, it was all genuine. Ranboo, as the prince of a species that has targeted and murder his species for centuries, was helping fae more than Tubbo even knew he could.
That’s when Tubbo reached out to Ranboo several months after the rescue and they partnered kingdoms, Tubbo’s still slightly lingering fear of Endermen be damned.
As you can probably imagine, not everyone loves this. A lot of Fae are furious and don’t think anyone in Enderia is trustworthy, some even going far enough to leave fully and move to a different fae kingdom. The Endermen are slightly more accepting, surprisingly. While there are the few that still actively see fae as nothing more than potion ingredients, a lot are just neutral towards them. And there are literally no other kingdoms for Endermen, so they can’t move out, and Ranboo hasn’t failed them yet, so what do they have to lose?
After the deal is sealed officially, Tubbo and Ranboo meet up a lot more often. Showchester isn’t too far from Enderia, so Ranboo can kind of just teleport in bursts to get there, but Tubbo actually can’t fly there since it’s too far and when the winter weather is too bad he can’t fly in general. I mentioned that Faes are especially good with animals and can communicate with them somewhat, so Ranboo gets Tubbo some sort of animal to help him get to Enderia faster (i haven’t decide what yet o just thought this idea was cute).
Anyway, Tubbo starts to see a new side of Ranboo. He’s constantly working, he never prioritizes himself, and he’s got some really unhealthy workaholic habits. Endermen are traditionally a very strict species, and Fae are very playful and kinda immature. The Endermen learned to always be on edge from their days of hating each other, and Faes have always had a really strong defense system, so they could afford to be more lax.
Anyway, Tubbo starts to realize that as much as he knows how stressful it is to be a prince, he sees why Ranboo snuck out so many nights ago when they met just to see the marketplace and try to be normal. Ranboo is making himself suffer without even realizing it. So Tubbo begins to try and teach Ranboo how to be a teenager again.
They spend more time together, start to enjoy each other’s company more and more. They stop talking just politics and begin to tell each other more personal things, and the other understands. They’re the first people who can understand each other’s stressors and problems. They’re happier than they’ve ever been since they met, and Ranboo one day asks if Tubbo had ever been interested in anyone. He wasn’t being subtle, and anyone with any brain cells would have known what that question implied, but Tubbo had never been flirted with or been asked anything like that before, so he didn’t pick up anything.
He doesn’t really know how to answer. Some people in his kingdom had tried a to arrange a few marriages, all very nice girls, but he was never interested in them. Ranboo hasn’t had that problem, Enderia was just chill with letting him be him and not forcing him to marry, but he asks if Tubbo’s problem with the marriage was the idea of an arrangement or maybe…if it was the fact that they had only arranged them with women?
That’s what it takes for Tubbo to realize that he was gay. He just assumed that since he didn’t like those girls, he didn’t like anyone. He didn’t know what it felt like to have a crush, he had never thought to distinguish friendship and love. He always thought it was normal to want to have more intimate friendships with your own gender, he never thought of those as crushes, and he still doesn’t know if they were. It’s taken him 17 years.
Ranboo kinda senses that Tubbo is having an identity crisis and gives his two cents. Ranboo, as with all of their issues, knows exactly how he feels. He himself had apparently had plenty of issues with himself as well, eventually realizing that he was gay and wasn’t even fully a guy. Endermen have a weird sense of gender, and they’re all very androgynous in the sense that it’s hard to tell girls and boys apart to anyone who isn’t an enderman, but even then, they still have genders. Ranboo eventually realized that he didn’t like just using him, and felt like “they” described him just as well, and even with those pronouns, he prefers to dress femininely, his subjects affectionately giving him the nickname “genderman.”
This makes Tubbo feel a lot better. He doesn’t know many gay people, but the ones he knows didn’t seem to ever have issues figuring themselves out. He thought he knew himself better than anyone, but Ranboo seems to know him just as well. He also didn’t know how he couldn’t have realized it earlier, or why it was so easy to accept now…
He’s all the way back in Snowchester and ready to fall asleep when he realizes that he’s in and has been in love with Ranboo for quite some time now, as if the night hadn’t been confusing enough.
He didn’t know when it had happened, or how, or why, but now that he actually thought about it, he couldn’t he couldn’t get the thought out of his head. God, he loved him, what was he supposed to do with that information? Yeah, they were business partners, friends, hell, best friends, at this point, and that was still probably an understatement, and they’d known each other for a few months, but why would an insanely rich and politically powerful prince of an entire species want a tiny fae for a boyfriend, or eventual spouse? What would he have to gain from loving Tubbo? Nothing. That’s what. He already had protection and trades from his country, but Tubno himself? He was useless. He couldn’t give Ranboo much physical affection, he wasn’t stupidly rich, he didnt even know how his culture and shit worked because he wasn’t an Enderman! What was he thinking going and falling in love with someone who could never and would never love him back.
Tubbo becomes a bit more dejected the next times they meet, and Ranboo notifies immediately. He tried to pry it out of Tubbo, but he keep coming up with more and more excuses. Some days are better than others, Tubbi acting almost normal again before plummeting back down a few days later, but there’s never been a plausible excuse. However, Ranboo knows what the stress of leading a country can do. He can’t pry too much out of Tubbo cause he knows he would hate having personal problems pried out of him. Eventually, after a few weeks, Ranboo gives up and basically tells Tubbo that he knows he’s been making excuses, and that whatever it is, he can tell them.
So, Tubbo does, kinda. He tells them how as much as he appreciates Ranboo helping him figure himself out, he had never worried about relationships, he was never fixated on any sort of romance. He just existed by himself, and he was ok with that until he met “someone” who he wanted to be around. Someone who thought like him, understood him, someone who he knew he could spend the rest of his life with and never stop being happy around. But he didn’t have anything to give to that person, they were far enough out of his league that they might as well have been on a different planet, and it could never work. He didn’t want anything to change between them because they meant more to him than anyone, and he didn’t know what he’d do without them. Tubbo at this point is almost in tears, and Ranboo listens to and processes everything being said to him. Then he does something Tubbo never would have expected and gets down on one knee.
Ranboo basically confessed that he’d been in love with Tubbo since they met. He’d never met another fae, but he’d never met someone like him. Endermen believe in soulmates a lot, they believe that at some point in their life their god will lead them to the person they were meant to be with, and there was never any doubt in Ranboo’s mind that Tubbo was that person. He never acted on it, since he knew their species’ history and especially how scared Tubbo was of endermen for a while after the circumstances of how they met, but he’s part of why Ranboo started making more laws to protect fae. He loved Tubbo, and if any other faes were like him, they didn’t deserve to be slaughtered. Besides, now that he saw how many innocent fae could be hurt by his people without him even realizing, he felt the need to make up for it.
After the kingdoms combined, Ranboo started dropping a lot of hints that they were into Tubbo, but they didn’t know if he either never caught on or just ignored them. They eventually just asked about his sexuality because they honest to god just didn’t know how else to imply that they wanted a relationship with him. But, even if Tubbo was trying to be subtle, he’s told Ranboo enough times that he didn’t have many other friends, so they could assume he was talking about them easy enough.
Tubbo was floored, happy beyond belief and in disbelief that this was even happening, but he hesitated. He asked Ranboo why he’d ever want someone like him. Ranboo asks him why he shouldn’t, which…isn’t something Tubbo really thought about. Ranboo puts the final nails in the coffin when he asks why he would care at all about size or species when Tubbo is the strongest, kindest, funniest person he’s ever met. Why should physical things like those stop him from wanting to be around the person he loved for the rest of his life? He doesn’t need anything from Tubbo, he just needs him. All he wants is him.
Tubbo breaks down in tears of pure joy and agrees to marry him, Ranboo beginning to cry too before Tubbo yells at him for burning his cheeks. The two of them spend the rest of the night just talking and laughing, Tubbo too caught up in the glee of being engaged and finally having the stress of “one sided” love off his chest and Rambo absolutely over the moon that the man he had actually confessed to and was now actually engaged to the man he loved.
The ceremony is a bit of a mess, given that neither of them had many family members or close friends, and trying to mix the marriage traditions of two very very different cultures was actually kind of laughable, but it was the best day of both Tubbo and Ranboos’ lives. They commissioned and designed the other’s wedding rings, deciding that gold bands were too normal, so they made rings that they thought encapsulated themselves, so the other could wear the ring and think of them whenever they had to be apart for prince business, even if Tubbo was going to move into Ranboo’s castle with him. Tubbo wears a dark silver ring with a gorgeous purple, even slightly glowing rare circular gem that could only be found in Enderia with accents of small black and white gems. Ranboo wears a gold ring with a honeycomb-like pattern etched into the banding and a rectangular gemstone hybrid of a few somewhat common crystals that’s swirled into green and brown, with a more defined and detailed edging around the stone itself.
After Tubbo moved to Enderia, he did appoint a new general so there could be someone there in case he wasnt, a strong willed and courageous fae who had actually helped to train him in his destructive powers: a woman named Puffy. But Tubbo is still there a lot, since it is his kingdom and all, but they’ve also grown used to seeing Rambo about, too. They’ve mostly gotten used to his giant size, and a few are chill just talking with him whenever he’s nearby. Ranboo’s happy that they’re talking to him at all, but the fact that he can even call some of them friends is a tremendous accomplishment for him. His favorite random friend to talk to whenever he visits is a guy named Sneeg, who he may genuinely call up to put on a council someday cause he has some…interesting ideas, certainly none that an enderman could think of.
All in all, the princes are very happy together. It’s taken them a while to sort everything out, given that they’re both 18-19 in the general story, but they love their new normal. They love having someone there for them, and, more than anything else, they love each other. Theyre still fairly newly wed, but hint hint yeah they’re definitely soulmates lmao. I’ve briefly mentioned the gods of this au, but yeah there was definitely divine intervention (there’s a or of that in this au) and those two were destined for each other lmao
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phantastragoria · 6 months
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Hey I’m not sure don’t remember if I sent this too you already or if I sent it to someone else but if I didn’t, I’d like to ask, what would you want in a sequel to the 2021 guardians game if they made one in terms of gameplay, characters and story?
Omg what don't I want LOL. This is opening the floodgates of my mind so reader beware, you're in for rambling insanity...
I'd want it to heavily focus on Nikki! I feel the first game boils down to being her story and I'd like if we continued that but with her having a more direct presence, obviously. Eidos Montréal giving Pete a daughter is the realest outcome ever they were so right for that and I desperately need to see his cringefail dad escapades of figuring out how to raise an emotional preteen girl like this is literally a sitcom setup I NEED to see the outcome of it all.
Joking aside I really want to see how Nikki actually is on the team (Is she allowed on missions? Is she a goofus like her dad and running off into danger??) and how she's dealing with everything post the Magus/Promise/Church shenanigans. The teen years are already really hard to navigate, especially for a young girl, but also adding on having been a bit sheltered from growing up on a Nova Corps ship AND going through the events of the first game... It's definitely going to be rough as hell and I really doubt the Guardians' chaotic lifestyle would help at all. And what's with her immediate connection to the soul stone/gem when it hurt everyone else? Something is going on there with her origins...
I don't want Gamora getting defaulted to a mother figure, but I'd like to see how her and Nikki get along, if at all. I'm sure she's crazy protective of her even if she's not projecting onto her as bad anymore but... only time will tell.
A thought that might not be important to anyone else, but I hope there's a discussion about how Peter needs to deal with Nikki's schooling. I'm sure he'd want better for her than he had had (see- no education past the 7th grade because of the whole being imprisoned thing.) I really really hope he DOESN'T decide to homeschool her though 😵‍💫 She deserves an actual education, but... the Guardians are poor so I'm sure it's going to be a problem of some sort and a struggle unless there's resources for that in their version of the Andromeda galaxy. 🤔
The most important thing ever... I need Drax to learn a musical instrument (saxophone) for fun. Our world will never be at peace until we get to hear him play a little musical tune for real. The character has existed since the 70s and I have no clue as to what kind of jazz music he even played... please let him play :( Less important (jk) but are the eternals like Mentor going to get on his case for not finishing the job with Thanos..?
Obviously, i want to know whatever is up with Richard Rider and his absence. The way the first game continually references him... I don't particularly want it to only devolve into romance, but i do want to know more about what sort of relationship he had with Gamora and exactly why he just vanished without a word to her about it.
Also, why does Peter seem to dislike him? Have they met beforehand? Is he just uncomfortable with another human?? Was he an extreme weirdo to Peter if they had met for real before??? (In the prequel novel Peter saw him during a 3D communications thing, but they didn't speak to each other.) I need answers!!! I want to assume wherever he went, he left willingly, considering he left his Nova helmet with Tivan... but why he trusted the Collector with that, I'm unsure and find it suspicious.
I've seen people suggest there's an obvious setup to some sort of infinity stone/gem and Thanos plot but I dunno... I definitely want to know where the hell his goofy ass went and it'd likely deal with that but if anything, I very much feel the plot would be dealing with more fallout of the War + recent Magus stuff that happened BUT especially dealing with political unease. Specifically the Spartoi Empire and why they went into extreme isolation, cutting themselves off from the dozens of planets they had under their control. I wouldn't rule out the possibility of there being another plot revolving partly around another single stone/gem, or one making a small appearance at the very least, however.
I'm not sure how it'd come together but I think it'd be fun if Mantis + Lady Hellbender + Adam/Pip and Nikki had a B-Team sort of moment if the main team was incapacitated. I'd also be remiss to not mention wanting to see a sort of Infinity Watch reunion/meetup if Heather makes an appearance.
And related to the above, I'd like if we got a moment where specifically Pete is out of commission and we have to play as someone else, if even for only a single chapter (I would love a stealth-like segment where you play as Gamora. Maybe if the team ends up on Spartax she has to snoop around for information?) I do acknowledge that'd be a hard sell for the devs though to add in a completely new gameplay style for just a singular short segment, so I could live without it.
I WOULD like to note I'm in the minority of players who like Peter being the main player character however! I'm biased in finding the concept of the element guns so fun and wanting to be the devil on his shoulder telling him what to say or do lol. That said, I WOULD like to see the base gameplay style expanded upon, especially if it went more of a puzzle focused route! I'm not good at explaining what I'm visualizing in my head, but I doodled a quick diagram that hopefully gets the point across of what I mean about that LOL.
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AND!! This is something that bothered me gameplay wise with the first game, with how you can't backtrack to previous levels with your element gun upgrades. This makes sense in-universe since the plot is one linear story but the element additions don't even roll over to New Game+!!! I am haunted by those teal cat beasts on Seknarf-Nine having an elemental weakness icon above their heads and how you can't go back and beat them with plasma and such 😔 I also think it would just add fun replayability and encouragement to find new puzzles in old levels when you get new elements. Maybe this is how you could find more outfit boxes in previously locked off areas? Speaking of outfits...
I NEED new costumes AND all the previous ones used in the first game to be included... this is not a want it is an absolute need. There are so many possibilities for outfits, there's too many to even list here. One outfit related suggestion I have is that, not necessarily having to swap every part of an outfit for different ones, but I'd like to be able to change helmets/hats/hair separately from the clothes themselves. That last one isn't a need, though. I just want more dress up options lol.
Maybe an inclusion of silly in-game visual filters? Like a black and white mode or a faded 70s filter, perhaps one with harsh dark shadows and saturated colors... I doubt this is possible and it's definitely not needed, but who knows where game development will be by the time a sequel happens! (I'd also like silly cheat codes... let me fly out of bounds in godmode and explore the level boundries... jk)
I'd like if the music choices started including 90s/2000s music, perhaps through Nikki collecting Earth junk and her bonding with Peter through that? Very inconsequential, but I would like it if Peter found out that the Star-Lord band DID make a new album at some point and he just never knew. He needs a small win in his little fanboy life (I feel deep within that this metaphorical album would have a blue cover... don't ask me why it just feels right.)
Quick last second list of people I would like to see appear/have some form of significance in the plot:
1. VICTORIA OF SPARTAX!!! Genuinely I want to see her more than anyone, even more than Richard (RICHIE IM SORRY!) I just need to see someone actually write her with respect and not as the second to her brother 😭 I'm absolutely certain she exists in this universe, so please...
2. Phyla-Vell (either as this universe's Captain Marvel or as the new Quasar incase something happened to Wendell between the first and metaphorical second game- Personally I think it would be more creative getting to see how Eidos would adapt Quasar's abilities.)
3. Heather/Moondragon (WHAT is she up to since her Nova Records mark her current whereabouts as unknown? From the same Records she's already been connected to the Dragon of the Moon and -was- prophesized as one out of three people to be the Celestial Madonna, but Mantis holds that title. Did they already fight over the right to it?)
4. SHIP/Aurora/the sentient spaceship from Peter's original 70s comics LOL LISTEN... I have faith in the madlads at Eidos to see the potential in her... PLEASE... It would be so funny.
5. Bug (😔 I know most people don't like him but I swear we can fix him... We already know he exists in-universe by his appearance in the prequel novel AND Mantis literally stating that, in regards to making a comment about Bug during the attack on Sacrosanct "I forgot you guys haven't met him (Bug) yet." Like come on, he's out there!!!)
6. Aradia and Mors, which I know will never happen, but let me believe.
7. ANY of the cosmic/abstract entities... we already know that Lady Death exists + Eternity and The Living Tribunal are known to the general public. I'd like to know where exactly they are because it's a bit concerning that they disappeared when the War had started years ago... perhaps Thanos had a hand in that. 🤔
8. If any Heralds of Galactus happen to show up, even if briefly, I would like the current herald to be Stardust.
9. Halfworlders like Blackjack and Wal-Rus or this universe' equivalents... Theory moment, but the prequel novel confirming that similar experiments happening on Halfworld were also going on in the Mercury base during the War makes me think that they have to be out there. I'd also like to see that Lylla survived and Rocket just didn't know. It'd be nice to see her get to exist outside of being a sad backstory thing that she's been relegated as for the last decade+ in media tbqh.
AND IMPORTANTLY if we indeed get more humans or extremely humanoid aliens in the cast, we desperately need some more diversity because there's no way every single human that makes it to space is white lol...
We're nearing the end now... so miscellaneous wants:
If it wasn't obvious by all my talk of Spartax by now, I want to see what Eidos had in mind for Spartoi culture so badly because the possibilities make my mind race! There's a bunch of little things I took as hints about them scattered throughout the first game, and it's part of why I think the sequel would involve them heavily in some way.
Related to that, I need Peter to think more deeply on his connection to his element guns and the implications of what they're actually capable of. Another gameplay specific suggestion, but I'm SO extremely curious if there being two of them means he could dual-wield two elements at once if he was more confident in using them?? I've been thinking about this for everrr.
And, just throwing this out there, I think it'd be very funny if/when Peter encounters J'son he has the option to just punch him square in the jaw without saying anything LOL.
I hope the epilogue stating that Peter is teaching Groot sign language becomes a significant thing that appears in the sequel :o it'd be really cool to see ASL in a game honestly because I can't recall seeing it elsewhere... and I want the others to learn it to communicate with Groot too!
I want Jack Flag in his prison cube that was drifting off into space to crash land on a tropical planet... but he is then eaten by a space whale RIP...
Finally, Rocket and Drax should start a space Etsy account selling gadgets/knitted items. Perhaps that is how the Guardians will get out of their financial hole once and for all.
#gotg game#guardians of the galaxy game#lex thoughts#gotg thoughts#universe: eidos game#none167#ask tag#genuinely so sorry for disappearing for so long... ive thought about this ask ever since i got it 😭#thank u for letting me ramble about the game literally i need a sequel so bad. i will wait as long as it takes to get it.#what would YOU like to see from a possible sequel dear readers?? i also wanna know#kept everything in me to not go on a whole thing about wanting more gay stuff but also i want way more gayness. that's very important to me#peter has the perfect opportunity come to terms being a cringefail single bi dad it's right there in front of him...#and when richard gets involved... well...#this all sounds so peter focused because i suck but i wanna know where the others could end up too!! l#there's sooo many things to explore i cant keep it all in. -passes out-#long post#if phylla and heather end up both appearing id like it to be their first meeting and us getting to see them bond/date btw. it could be swee#also what is kammy's deal... my current theory is that she's an aspect of an abstract entity or one of them cursed into a beast-like form.#or shes just an evil looking but normal galaxius omnipacus. it could go both ways really#... she eats through metal... can she eat vibranium lol...#the fear i felt in how i thought i lost this omg for some reason this overwrote the other ask you had sent when i saved it as a draft???#not complaining IM GLAD THIS WAS SAVED AFTER ALL LOL#anyway. thank u for asking 🫶 i hope this makes a little bit of coherent sense LOL#genuinely i have too many wants and thoughts on a sequel... so many possibilities...
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eliasofsunhillow · 2 years
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Hello there! A while ago you recommended 'Silently and Very Fast' and 'The Wounded Sky' to me, I finally finished both titles and absolutely adored them. Bizarre, wonderful, and so well written. I'm so thankful you pointed them my way, and I was wondering if you had any more book recommendations. Thank you for reading my friend.
If you enjoyed Silently And Very Fast then I definitely recommend checking out the rest of Valente's works, especially but not limited to The Orphan's Tales series (In The Night Garden & In The Cities Of Coin And Spice). They're fantasy but definitely in the vein of beautiful and bizarre. There's just so much to explore in those books I've read them like three times in six months, hahaha. (And if you like those maybe check out the Kencyrath Chronicles by P. C. Hodgell)
Unfortunately tho, I've never really found anything that really hit the same spot that Wounded Sky did for me, maybe because it was very much a book I never knew I needed. The only one that came close was The Entropy Effect by Vonda N. McIntyre (if you do read and enjoy that then definitely read her Star Wars novel Crystal Star, very good very bizarre, as well as her original work Dreamsnake). Sci-fi tends to have a dearth of the bizarre which is unfortunate and kind of silly imo because everything about space and science is really weird.
In addition, I'd flat-out recommend the Elder Scrolls game series if you enjoy bizarre fantasy, the lore is... something else.
Also I'd say go read Fortuna Primigenia by @ss-shitstorm because the entire premise it's built off of is absolutely fascinating. There's also making sweet electrically charged love to massive metal titans so there's also that.
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yourbenevolence · 2 years
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Ouurhrhhhhhf
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sugume · 2 months
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HOLE IN THE WALL — JUJUTSU KAISEN
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( TW ) f!reader. sex work. unprotected sex. praise. dedegration. unprotected sex. creampies. spanking. (Not a gangbang btw, just back to back sex!)
FEATURING. Toji Fushiguro, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento.
authors note. I thought it would be fun to leave the identities a mystery,,,can you guess the order of who is who 🤭 ? I fear this is unedited bc I’m still suffering in bed and hate rereading 😔
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. . . 9:30 PM 
You lay comfortably on the bench underneath you. Well as comfortably as you could. Your boss refused to buy new benches, instead leaving you and your coworkers with these .5-inch foam benches. You’ve gotten used to it, so it doesn’t bother you much these days.  
“Gettin’ your first customer y/n! It’s businessman!” The new girl yelled through the door your lower body was in. You don’t bother yelling back. She’d be long gone by now. You scoot your ass further into the private room. You know ‘businessman’ likes watching your ass recoil against his hips. You perk up when you hear the door open and shut.  
“Hey sweetheart,” Businessman says is a tired raspy voice. “Hi!” You say back, he’s been here so much that you know he fucks better when he’s able humanize the ass hanging out the wall for him. 
You feel his rough hands fondle with your ass. You shake a little, earning a small laugh and pinch. “So perfect.” He groans and within a few seconds you feel the rubber covered tip of his cock head at the entrance. He pushes in slowly, and your grateful your last I lent used a bit too much lube, leaving you wet enough to take businessman’s cock without much struggle.  
“Fuck yes, waited all day for this pussy.” He grunts, hands gripping your hips. He pushes in and out at a slow pace, he likes savoring the feeling of your tight pussy. You moan softly at the feeling of his cock sliding against your walls at the gentle pace but that gentle pace soon turns into the rough fucking you’re used to. The type of fucking only a stressed man who wastes his money and sex shop could give you. You moan louder, his cock hitting all your soft spots.
“Want you to come with me alright?” He brings his hands around to your clit. He rubs harsh circles into your clit and after being used and denied orgasm for so long you're coming in his big cock as he fills the condom. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so good to me, so good.” He rambles and you respond with small thanks You's
. . . 9:45 PM 
Several minutes after businessman gently shut to door you hear the door open. Men back-to-back which you’d usually be pissed at but after that orgasm your relaxed enough and it’s not like you have a choice.  
“Ha! So, this is where he goes after work?” A man says in a deep voice, albeit childish tone. “And I thought he was innocent! Hello? Is this real?” The man pushes a finger into your ass as if he was expecting to feel silicone. There goes your good mood.  
“Hi, yes I’m real and that kinda hurt!” You say loud enough to pass the drywall that covers your upper body. The man laughs and you can feel his breath on your ass, it feels like he’s close enough to look through the curtain your ass hangs out. “Uhm—you aren’t allowed to look through that sir!” You stutter, ready to yell for the faux security to come get a rowdy man out. 
“Sorry! Just wanted a sneak peek!” He laughs, standing back up and silently admiring the view of your shiny ass. He brings his long hands down and starts rubbing all over your ass. You roll your eyes; his dick better be decent. 
“Does the man that came in before me come here a lot?”  
“I can’t tell you that.” 
“Pretty please?” 
“Do I have to call security?” You grumble.  
“Sorry pretty, can a man not talk anymore? Where the lube—oh there we go, now let me—” The man does something you can’t see before suddenly shoving his too-long dick into you. You scream into the bench. 
“Oh fuck, so fucking tight.” He grits out as your pussy clenches hard around him. “Should’ve paid extra for no protection.” He whispers to himself before pulling out of you. He pushes back in before his mushroom head could leave your warm pussy.  
You moan louder than you have all day as he continues to fuck you with his long cock. He’s fucking you so good, tip hitting your cervix that you feel your pussy start to pulse around him. You’re about to cum again. 
“Fuck, pretty, come on my cock.” He slams into you, hand going down to claw your hips. You open your mouth in a silent scream as you come on the cocky man’s cock.  
. . . 10:37 PM 
You settle back onto the bench, bladder empty and stomach full of the lunch box you packed for yourself. To wake yourself up, you had to splash your face with water a few times. The back-to-back orgasms those men had given you were enough to lose all the energy you had before coming to work. As you settled back in you mentally prepared yourself for the full night you had ahead of yourself. Back-to-back orgasms were unheard of here, you were lucky, and doubted it would ever happen again. The door slams shut, for cling you to stop thinking about those men. You lie on the bench and look at the concrete wall to the side.  
“Missed me girl?” The older man grunted, and your heart skipped a beat. It was him. Your favorite client. He hadn’t been here in so long you thought he might’ve been killed or sent to jail. You knew he wasn’t the sanest man out there.  
“S-sir?” You hesitantly ask, calling your favorite client by the nickname he loved.
“Mhm.” He answers, heavy hands coming to rub and fondle your pussy. You feel your face heat. “This pussy miss me? Miss actually having orgasms in this hell hold?”  
You answer him with a lie, he didn’t have to know you were still coming down from two orgasms with cocks that could rival his.  
“Knew you did girl, but I', back. Gonna give this sweet pussy the orgasm it’s been craving.” The man pulls out his cock, thankful he was able to scrap enough change to pay for unprotected sex with you. He just had to not come inside, or else he was banned from every location in the city. He runs the tips all over your ass and pussy, before shoving his cock into you. You dig your nails into the sides of the bench as his fat cock stretches you. Not even the other cocks before were this girthy.  
“F-fuck sir!” You scream when he slaps your ass. You clench around his cock, not wanting him to pull out.  
“All these damn cocks and this pussy is still this tight, fuckin’ A.” He grunts, slapping your ass as he thrust in and out of you. The sheer force of him has you coming so hard that your vision goes black for a second before returning when he hits a particular spot.  
“That was fuckin’ fast girl. Gonna make me come.” He grunts and brings his hand down fast and hard. The sound of his smack echoes in the empty room. “Wish I could come in this pussy.” He grumbles before pulling out. He first his fat cock before getting an idea. He brings the tip to your entrance, not pushing it in, and empties his load. You gasp and the feeling of his come spurting all over your pussy. You should be screaming right now, if any of his come had gotten into you, you could be pregnant. But inside your pussy thrums at the thought of this older mystery man leaving you with nothing but his child. You wish you weren’t on birth control. 
. . . 11:01 PM 
The man didn’t bother cleaning his come off you. Instead, he said he was leaving it as a parting gift because he didn’t know the next time he would see you. You were too fucked out to clean yourself off, so you left his cum just as he left it. Smeared and dripping off your pussy.  
When the next man came in you didn’t even care that he was about you fuck another man's come into you, you found it hot. He didn’t though. 
“Can’t believe my best friend sent me here to look at a used pussy.” He spit out and you tensed. 
“Huh—” 
“You heard me, matter of fact I was just told that you weren’t allowed creampies? Going against company rules now? Fuckin’ slutty bitch.” He snarls and brings a hand down to pinch at your swollen clit that peaked out your lips. You whine. 
“Think I might go out and tell, I don’t wanna use some stretched cunt.” His twists and pulls at your clit. 
“W-wait please don’t do that, please.” You cry, you were going to get in trouble with your boss if this mean man said those lies. Your boss always believed the words of so random men and he would take some of your check out. “I’ll do anything, please, don’t.”  
“Nah m’gonna tell. After I’m done with this pussy though. Already paid for you, might as well get a feel,” he tells you, as he unzips his pants. “Now be quiet, holes don’t talk.” The man degrades you as he shoves his cock into you. You cry at the burn. The only thing helping is the other leftover cum he shoved in you. 
“Fuck he was right; this pussy is too tight.” He grunts hands bruising your hips with how tight he’s gripping. You cry into the bench as he fu is you like he hates you. “Isn’t that crazy? This pussy gets used all damn day and yet it’s still this tight. What all the cocks you take too small or something’?” He slaps your ass. 
“Oh fuck, m’gonna come in the sweet pussy. Gonna give you that creampie you aren’t allowed. Gonna fuck my come so deep into this pussy it’ll be dripping out of you for days.” His grip on your hips tightens, and you scream into the bench as he comes deep inside you. “Fuckin’ hell that was good, might have to come back tomorrow. Say, you let me come inside you tomorrow too I won’t tell your boss?” 
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sttoru · 3 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. coming home from university has both stressed and tired you out — causing you to forget about satoru’s birthday. maybe your boyfriend could help you remember.
word count. 4.7k-ish
note. was supposed to come out on his (our) bday but writer’s block was ruthless :p hope you enjoy anyway x
tags. older bf!gojo satoru x sub!female reader. p.orn with plot. fluff to smut. age gap (reader 20 - early 20’s, satoru’s in his early 30’s). p in v -> unprotected, size difference, missionary, creampie, breast play, dirty talk, body worship, hickeys, praise, you f.uck in the kitchen, aftercare-ish, reader gets called ‘princess, sweetheart, baby, pretty.’ i present to you soft dom&older bf!gojo satoru. he’s absolutely smitten with you btw.
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“lookin’ tired, sweetheart.” satoru comments with a subtle grin as he welcomes you home. home being his apartment that you had basically moved into. why? because it was close to the university you attend.
and maybe because your lover had coaxed you into it.
you sigh, eyes half closed and glazed over. the stress of exams, assignments and whatnot has been too much for your brain, “yeah, i’m sorry. i probably look like absolute shi—”
a pair of lips were quick to shut your negative remark up. satoru pulls you closer to him by the small of your back. his fluffy bangs brush over his closed eyes, the hairs lightly grazing your forehead as well. he smells and tastes sweet. like those strawberry flavoured candies he always carries with him in his pockets.
a faint string of saliva hanging between your two mouths was all that’s left after the intense kiss. it snaps, causing the small bit of liquid to cling onto your bottom lip.
“what’d i say about apologising when you did absolutely nothing wrong?” satoru asks in a gentle and hushed tone. his thumb presses down on your bottom lip to get rid of the transparent trail of saliva. his gaze is soft and loving — like it always is when he looks at you.
that man had once again rendered you speechless. it’s the small things that make you fall for him over and over, “that—uhm—i shouldn’t apologise for something i don’t have any control over.”
satoru’s dimples show as he looks down at you fondly. a large hand settles on the top of your head, messing up your hair whilst his lips lock yours in for another kiss.
“exactly,” your lover nods in approval before grabbing your bag and placing it aside. he also helps you take off your coat and even bends down to undo your shoes for you.
you wonder how you’ve even managed to land such a man.
satoru’s long fingers work quick to undo the laces on your shoes. your tired eyes can’t help but steal a glance at the veins that run down his slender hands — up his forearms and. . .
“somethin’ on your mind, princess?” his voice calls out as he massages your feet for a split second to ease the accumulated tension from all the walking. you simply shake your head ‘no’, though satoru knows you better than you know yourself.
with a light-hearted chuckle, he raises to his full length and leads you through the hallway. his footsteps were light whilst yours were the exact opposite: heavy and exhausted.
maybe a shower or bath would help you refresh and relax. thus, that’s exactly what the sorcerer recommends;
“why don’t you go take a nice shower whilst i prepare you a hot meal, hm?” satoru comments and stops in his tracks right before the door to the bathroom. his gaze lingers on your pretty face—his hands never leaving your skin.
the idea of taking a shower did seem like the ideal solution to your problems at the moment, “okay i will, but err. . .”
your voice trails off as you look up at satoru. his knuckles run over your cheeks lovingly and his warm gaze tells you that he’s smitten with you. totally. utterly. he makes you so nervous without even realising it in the slightest.
“you don’t have to cook me something. i know work has been hard on you too.” you finish your sentence with an apologetic little smile. one that makes satoru want to squeeze your cheeks together.
you had always been a bit selfless and it’s an admirable trait, but your boyfriend also has this gnawing urge to take care of you in any way he can. maybe it’s because he’s a few years older than you and knows from experience how tough things could get at your age.
satoru smirks and pokes your sides playfully, “don’t you worry your pretty little head ‘bout that. now let’s get you in that shower.”
a little yelp leaves your throat as you feel yourself get hoisted over his shoulder. the white-haired sorcerer opens the door with one hand, the other protectively placed on your waist to keep you from falling.
he settles you back on your feet in the middle of the room—eyes now filled with a playful glint. you could probably already guess the next words that leave his mouth.
“need help undressing? i’ll gladly do it for you,” satoru laughs. you roll your eyes and teasingly shove him towards the door. he puts his hands in the air to show his surrender, though doesn’t miss the opportunity to look you over one last time.
you’re like the embodiment of beauty even when your eyes have lost their usual spark. even if you barely have any energy left to do anything. he loves every side of you, no matter what.
resisting the urge to pull you into his arms for the nth time, your boyfriend eventually leaves you be and closes the door as he steps out. his mind, however, was still overly full with thoughts of you.
“ah, what a woman.” satoru mutters in pure amazement under his breath after departing from the bathroom. there’s a visible spring in his step as he walks to the kitchen—happy to take care of his girl.
. . .
you finish your much needed bath after about half an hour. you look in the bathroom mirror whilst wrapping a simple white towel around your torso. the bath sure did help to clear your mind, though there’s still one thing bothering you. something you’ve forgotten.
you can’t really put your finger on it, but it must have been something important. there’s an iffy feeling in your chest as you walk out of the bathroom — instantly heading towards the kitchen. surely, satoru could help you remember it.
“toru,” you call out before stepping into the kitchen. your lover is standing at the counter, his back towards you and his hands working fast to chop up some vegetables. the many pans and stoves scattered around the area only further prove his determination to prepare you a nice hot meal.
“yeah, princ— oh.” satoru eventually turns his head, looking over his shoulder to see you standing a few steps behind him. he couldn’t believe his luck; to have his gorgeous, gorgeous girlfriend in his apartment was one thing—but having his girlfriend in front of him with only a towel on was another thing. the remaining waterdroplets running down your skin made you all the more attractive.
he grins as he puts the knife down and quickly dries his hands. he couldn’t wait to put his hands on your body, “c’mere, pretty.”
you grunt the moment satoru envelopes you into a tight hug with your face squished into his chest. he nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head—over dramatically acting as if he hasn’t seen you for days.
his hands teasingly find their way under the material of the towel. the tips of his fingers are cold in comparison to your warm and damp skin. he drags the pad of his thumb up and down the curve of your ass; sighing in content as he feels the plush flesh.
“perv.” you mutter under your breath, though can’t deny that the light touch makes you putty in his hands. satoru responds with his usual ‘only when it comes to you’ comment before pulling away to take in your embarrassed expression. he lives for those physical reactions you have to his advances.
you slightly turn your head to the right, purposely avoiding his gaze. you face the door of the fridge that you stood in front of. your eyes fall onto the sticky notes. there’s one standing out from all the others.
you had placed it on there a few weeks ago so you wouldn’t accidentally forget that oh-so-important date.
turns out you did just that.
your face drops and you instantly go into panic mode. how could you fail to recall that today is satoru’s birthday? you don’t even know how to explain yourself. no amount of excuses would ever make this right. or so you thought.
satoru is an attentive lover; he is aware of almost everything that’s going on in your head. perhaps he is good at reading minds. or perhaps it’s just that your body language and facial expressions disclose everything he needs to know about your current mood.
“hey, i’m not upset.” satoru breathes out, eyes closed as he slides ticklish kisses down your neck. it is a sign of reassurance; he doesn’t want you to conclude that he’s angry with you for forgetting such a thing. besides, he understands that being an university student is a struggle by itself, “having you here with me at the end of the day ‘s all that matters to me, okay?”
you sigh, both in frustration and content. you’re frustrated with yourself for being too caught up with your studies, though you’re also appreciative for satoru’s empathy and lenience. he is so kind and mature; always optimistic about everything. your mindset is the opposite of his. your age gap sure did explain those cognitive differences.
despite satoru’s consolation, you still feel like you owe him something. you tilt your head back so you’re able to look him in the eyes. you give him the cutest pout ever and that man is—once again—feeling light-headed. satoru can’t decide whether to continue consoling you or to tease you about forgetting his birthday.
you are adorable when you sulk.
“i’m still.. well, sorry.” you sniffle, cuddling up to your lover to show your genuine remorse, “i know that you wouldn’t ever forget about my birthday - no matter how busy you might. . . .”
blahblahblah. you are babbling on and on about how inappropriate it is of you to forget his birthday, but satoru is hearing none of that.
his coherent thoughts shut down the moment he felt your tits press up against his chest. it is meant as an innocent hug on your part, however apparently couldn’t be interpreted as one.
your visible cleavage and the way the towel is doing a bad job at hiding the volume of your breasts increases the lewd thoughts gathering in his mind. there is no way that he can survive any more physical contact between you two without taking some action.
“..so, i was thinking that i could make it up to you somehow.” you conclude at one point in the conversation. satoru’s body subtly jolts as he snaps out of his dazed state.
he gives you a sheepish smile and tries to play it off by continuing the conversation, “make it up to me, huh?”
you nod in response and give him your best puppy dog eyes. your lover sighs in defeat; satoru couldn’t keep his emotions and carnal desires in check anymore. his hands are twitching, aching and longing to touch you all over.
the rational part of his mind told him to continue comforting you. to tell you that there was no need to compensate for failing to remember his birthday. the lust-driven part of him craves to take you up on the offer and give a different and more sexual twist to it.
satoru takes a deep breath and puts some distance between you two. not because he is annoyed or irritated by your behaviour, but because he might lose control of himself.
you can’t guess the intentions behind your lover’s actions, thus confusion follows; “satoru? you okay?”
maybe he actually is displeased by your lack of remembrance—deep, deep inside. you bite your lip anxiously, reaching your hand out to hold satoru’s in attempt to try and get him to look at you. his vision is obstructed by his own bangs, a dark shadow casted over his eyes, one that prevents you from gauging his mood.
you feel a light electric shock go through your body the instant your fingers curled around his hand. your boyfriend’s body stiffens and it’s like time stilled.
“fuck, i tried.” satoru mutters under his breath.
then, before you knew what was happening, you’re pinned to the door of the fridge. there are efforts made to articulate proper words, but the shock has overtaken all your senses. it isn’t like you could speak either—your lips are sealed shut by your lover’s.
his hands didn’t waste a single second now that they have free rein. they fondle you everywhere; from cupping your cheeks, to sliding down your neck and lower. his fingers rub up against the area where your nipples would be, sensually stroking them through the towel. his feverish kisses combined with his constant touches make you shiver in exhilaration.
you’re trying to keep up with his sudden burst of lust and that’s adorable to the white-haired sorcerer. he can feel you struggling to keep yourself balanced on your toes, your arms wrap tightly around his neck so you’d be inseparable. you feel him grin against your lips for a split second—the gesture alerting you of what might be coming.
“mmh,” satoru grunts once he frees your bare body from its confines. he finally breaks the kiss—the sole reason being to admire the sight of you.
it feels like he just unveiled a heavenly painting. his eyes don’t know what to focus on. if he is to properly and completely appreciate your nude body, it’d take him days or even weeks, “god, have i ever told you how lucky i am to be yours?”
your heart stutters in your chest as all attention is on you. the gentle yet hungry touch of your lover, his hands caressing everywhere they can reach and his half-lidded eyes that are focused on your most intimate parts—you don’t know how much more you can take.
satoru’s breathing becomes even heavier than it was moments ago. he leans his head down to your level, lips hovering above the space between your neck and shoulder. his mouth latches onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. but alas, he is a simple man.
his lips work precisely and diligently to leave hickeys on every inch. his teeth gently sink into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings left. your body is his canvas for tonight and the many other nights that are yet to come — for as long as you give him permission to.
“ngh— t.. toru,” you stammer, almost squealing. the sloppy kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. satoru feels a rush of satisfaction like no other; the frequency of his touches only increasing with each sound erupting from your throat. his tongue slides over your plump breasts, his fingers flicking the nipple he isn’t sucking on.
he eventually detaches from your tits, leaving them both covered in his saliva. he hums in delight at the erotic view and gives both your breasts a last kiss. satoru looks up into your eyes again—a sense of want in them, “you look like you have somethin’ to say, baby.”
you do, but, don’t know how to bring the message across. it is embarrassing to say all of your thoughts out loud; all that you actually want him to do that you. you know satoru would love it if you do, however you do not have the guts to.
your body does all the talking anyway. there is a pool of slick forming between your thighs, your bodily fluids showing just how aroused you are. you aren’t the only one in that state; satoru has had a raging hard-on the entire time.
“i want you.” there it goes.
you avert your eyes, though not for long. gentle fingers hold your chin up, forcing you to stare at your lover. his face is intensely close and your heart is in your throat. satoru grins at your shy behaviour, finding it all the more endearing.
“awh, my little princess wants me?” he pouts, almost mockingly if you didn’t know better. his gaze flickers downwards, “where d’ya want me? show me, baby.”
if you aren’t embarrassed already, you’d sure be now. satoru’s teasing words and the sultry tone of voice he uses eventually urges you to comply. your shaky fingers wrap around his wrist, bringing his hand down towards your tingling cunt, “here.”
the older man hisses at the direct contact his hand makes with your pussy. it is so wet and ready — he wanted nothing more than to bury his fat cock between your folds and feel your sweet little cunt cling onto it.
he cups your cunt delicately, grazing his thumb against your clit. he traces faint circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves to make you squirm and whimper in pleasure. his other fingers spread your folds apart so he can collect your wetness on them.
“how naughty,” satoru sighs. his index finger prods at your entrance, but your thighs clamp down around his hand before he’s able to push it in.
he snickers in amusement and retracts his hand. he licks your juices off of his long fingers in a painfully slow manner, “well.. who am i to deny you? what the princess says, goes.”
satoru lifts your body up in his arms, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist. he kisses you passionately again—his tongue swirling around yours. you exchange soft moans as your hands lift his shirt up and over his head.
you cut the kiss short to appreciate the sight of your lover’s well-built upper body. that drives him utterly insane. that look you give him.
satoru curses under his breath and pulls you down onto the carpet below. he carefully places you on your back and—once you are settled—instantly rushes to undo his grey sweatpants.
his eyes are darting from his clothes to your naked body under him. god, he wants to fuck you so bad. the view of you spread out and patiently waiting for him to take you had him weak in the knees. it’s a sinful scene, yet the pleading and almost innocent-like look in your eyes is a complete contrast.
“don’t worry, i’ll give it to you in a second, baby.” satoru grins once he pulls his boxers down to his knees—revealing his hardened cock. he strokes it slowly and the pre-cum drips down the shaft, his thumb smearing the droplets all over his pink tip.
after getting a couple strokes in, he grabs the base of his dick and guides it to your wet cunt. satoru rubs his tip up and down your slit. what he didn’t expect is for his cockhead to slide into you so easily. he didn’t even have to put in the slightest of effort.
your back arches due to the feeling and your nails dig into the carpet below you. the mixture of your slick and his pre-cum is all the lubricant you need.
“shit. seems like she doesn’t wanna let go any time soon.” satoru addresses your cunt with a groan whilst he slips his fat cock deeper into you. his eyes roll back as he feels the warmth of your pussy engulfing him, “. . .not like i was planning to leave her empty anyway.”
you moan and shiver at both satoru’s dirty words and his dick that’s currently stuffing your insides full. your mouth hangs open, your eyes remain shut and your brain takes in all the granted sensations. adjusting to his lengthy size takes you a few seconds and when you gave your boyfriend permission to continue— that’s exactly what he does.
his hips thrust in an almost hypnotising rhythm: back and forth, back and forth. every interval between the firm movements is the exact same. the thing that differs and makes the experience all the better, is the difference in strength behind each thrust.
one moment he’s carefully sliding in and out of your sopping cunt and in the next he’s forcefully slamming his cock all the way in and out. satoru stifles his moans by attaching his lips to yours—capturing them in a sloppy, rough kiss.
“satoru—satoru, ah, please.. right there,” you mewl into his mouth. his tongue finds yours and your salivas mix.
your lover answers your pleas by holding onto your hand, your fingers interlocking with his thumb soothingly rubbing your skin. satoru never fails to make you feel loved during intimate acts like these. no matter how filthy, nasty and rough he’s fucking you.
you arch your back and your chest presses against satoru’s, causing him to groan against your lips. a cocky grin appears on his face after he moves his head to the crook of your neck. he leaves a couple hickeys along the area of your throat—his hips not giving you a break. even as you continuously whimper and look like you’re about to lose your mind from pleasure.
that’s what satoru wants; to have you come undone beneath him. it’s the most beautiful thing in the world to him. others may call it perverted, but the older man always aims to make you reach as many orgasms as you can in one night. it fuels his carnal desires to see you convulse and shake after every intense climax.
his baby feeling good is all he wants to achieve.
“mhm, i know, princess. i know.” satoru breathes out and returns his lips to yours. he can’t go on long without tasting you. you’re like a drug he’s addicted to. every reaction—small or big—gets him going, “take it easy—fuck, you can do that f’me."
you reply with incoherent noises of agreement. there’s not a thought going on behind those watery eyes of yours. that much is obvious to your boyfriend.
your legs lock his cock inside of you by wrapping around his hips. your eyes are glazed over; a cockdrunk look. one that would make any man cum on spot.
“princess, wait,” satoru whines. he can’t stop himself, yet he’s telling you to wait. his body refuses to come to a halt as it strives towards a satisfying orgasm. he can feel it, his balls tightening and ready to spill everything they have, “if you continue looking at me like that, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum.”
he isn’t lying. you’re nearly driving him over the edge with everything you do. your legs that tighten their grip around his hips in fear of him pulling out is his favorite thing to experience. it’s like you’re desperate to continue.
your hands play with his sweaty body, fingers caressing his hard chest to feel his heartbeat. you’re drooling. your head is spinning as you think of your lover claiming you. fucking his precious cum into you, “inside—want it inside. all of it.”
satoru chokes on his spit. you don’t know what you do to him. muttering such erotic words causes the older man to malfunction every time. without fail. his hips are painfully ramming against yours.
“you sure? ah, shit.” satoru curses. his brows are furrowed, his hands holding you by your jaw. the view of you with your head tilted back and your teary eyes looking straight into his is pure perfection, “can’t deny you when you look so hot begging me to cum inside your greedy little pussy.”
the room is spinning. your nails claw into satoru’s back, leaving faint red marks on his pale skin. you shudder the instant he slides out of you until all that’s left is his pink tip prodding at your entrance.
it’s like he gets off on it. to see you whimper, quiver and struggle to contain your pleas for permission to cum. your boyfriend drags his tip up and down your slit, tapping it against your clit repeatedly.
“cum f’me, baby.” satoru coos. he knows you’re right on the edge. before you can reply, he shoves his cock back inside your spasming cunt—ruthlessly pounding you until you scream his name.
your eyes roll back and all you can do is hold your breath the moment the intense orgasm washes over you. your hips buck, your legs tremble and your pussy gushes all over his cock.
spurts of clear liquid cover satoru’s thighs. you squirting isn’t something he had expected to see, but it is a pleasant surprise regardless. it all gets too much for your lover and it drives him to his own climax as well.
satoru hugs you tightly to him. your chests press together with one of his arms holding your upper body up—his nose buried into your hair. a muffled grunt escapes his mouth and that’s when you know that he's reaching his finish.
“please—take it, take it, take it,” satoru stutters and stammers. he can’t form any proper words the moment his cock twitches and releases a huge load of sperm into your womb. it’s an overwhelming amount; globs of transculent white liquid ooze out from between your folds.
his sticky cum slides down to your asshole and onto the carpet, staining it. satoru bites his bottom lip whilst his body is still recovering, cock going soft once he pulls it out. he doesn’t know what to do or where to look, yet somehow his gaze always darts back to your dripping cunt.
“fuck. . . that’s hot.” the older man takes in a deep breath. it’s too soon to get hard again, he figures. the way you’re still trembling and struggling to catch your breath tells him enough. you need a break. and a well-deserved one it is.
your weak taps against satoru’s shoulder snaps him out of his dazed state. he takes your hand in his and gently squeezes before helping you into a sitting position. his blue eyes flash with worry,
“hey, hey, baby—you okay?” satoru asks. his voice is raspy, though obviously filled with concern. he rubs your back and encourages you to take deep breaths. small kisses to your temples help calm you down too.
your breathing eventually returns to normal. you chuckle tiredly and lean your head against his shoulder. your attentive lover wipes the saliva from the corners of your lips and does the same with the tears around your eyes. you sniff, “y-yeah. just felt amazing, hehe.”
satoru sighs in relief. he was scared that he hurt you somehow. your confession makes him laugh and squeeze your body against his. he cups your face and kisses you twice out of pure adoration.
you’re always ten times more adorable to him after you’ve had sex.
“aw, glad it did.” satoru smiles, his dimples showing. your eyes glisten and you smile back out of reflex. you pucker your lips and your lover takes the hint. he presses his mouth against yours once more; this time playfully swiping his tongue over your bottom lip.
you pull back and teasingly swat his bicep. satoru tickles your side as a response. and that’s how you once again end on the floor, with a heavy weight pressing onto your front.
satoru nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and breathes in your scent. you’re the best thing to have happened to him. you, the love of his life.
“the best present i could have ever gotten.” the white-haired sorcerer mumbles to no one in particular. though, you heard it. faintly.
you rub his back. you’re sure you made it up to him. he’s clinging onto you, nearly suffocating you by laying on top of your smaller body, but you don’t mind. you play with his hair and your fingernails graze against his undercut to which satoru reacts with a low purr.
you’re happy. he’s happy. that’s all that matters;
“happy birthday, my love.”
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5K notes · View notes
themthistles · 1 year
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from is such a bizarre show. it feels like something released in 2009 or 2013 but actually came out this year. clearly aiming for complicated mystery stretching across multiple seasons but because of its cinematography and dialogue half the time i feel like i'm tuning into a walking dead episode
#also i thought mc was played by bradley cooper the entire time#but that one's on me and my poor face recognition i guess#sorry all brown haired white men with a stubble look the same to me#no but seriously who is this show's target audience#cause casual fans that like walking dead and such are already frustrated that none of their questions are being answered#and for people who love obsessing over little details and mysteries it's just weird enough#it's as if they tried to get as wide demographic as possible adding all these relationship and conflicts that go nowhere#which all lessens mysterious and creepy vibe of the show#cinematography especially hurts because being trapped in a terrifying nowhere town while weird creatures hunt you for sport sounds great#as a horror premise#but the end result is just not scary because of how it's shot and how the story progresses#i watched all of it at night time#didn't get spooked once and i'm the biggest whimp#hats off to the penniwise guy for the creepiest smile i've ever seen#the only one who committed#characters are definitely the best aspect of it all so i hope they don't fuck that up#also there's no reason for any intro to be that long and this one isn't even good#anyways kind of a shame that it had potential but ultimately falls through#btw that scene when kristi has a dream that dad takes off the amulet and monsters break into the trailer is so fucking funny#i don't think it was intentional at all but i had to pause it cracked me up so much#*just not weird enough#*wimp#you know what whatever i slept for 3 hours i'm not retyping any of that
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hoseoksluna · 1 month
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STEAM | myg ft. jjk
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pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)
genre: smut
word count: 9.2k
summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.
playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam
warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names
note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3
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The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.
He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.
You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.
And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.
The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.
But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.
It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.
Showers with him are something else.
Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.
That has become your new version of hot long showers.
And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.
You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.
That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.
You feel him everywhere.
You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.
Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch. 
That’s a good girl. Messy for me. 
The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.
It’s a part of the solo girl's night.
A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.
You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—
A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.
You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.
He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is. 
Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.
Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully. 
His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses. 
Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth. 
He is not, in fact, on his way home. 
It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy. 
You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny. 
Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.” 
He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?” 
The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display. 
He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.” 
Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself. 
Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen. 
Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking. 
A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do? 
It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice. 
You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on. 
“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.” 
Naked. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.” 
And with that, he hangs up. 
The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you. 
You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend. 
His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form. 
Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer. 
Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience? 
The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad. 
Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you. 
What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done? 
You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you. 
That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.
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Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer. 
By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.
You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you. 
The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had. 
The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to. 
Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all. 
The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream— 
“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”
Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment? 
Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call? 
“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person. 
Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult. 
You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there. 
This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—
“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.” 
It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred. 
Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body. 
A healer with big, round eyes. A good man. 
With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”
It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.
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You made Yoongi drink a lot of water. 
And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober. 
He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross. 
So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially. 
Was it out of the question or would he consider it? 
Your leg jitters harder. 
You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin. 
“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.” 
He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion. 
You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—
Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek. 
“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?” 
You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one? 
You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks. 
“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness. 
And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. 
“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.” 
You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?” 
Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”
You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did. 
Your arousal returns at full speed.
“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently. 
You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side. 
“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.” 
He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?” 
You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself. 
Yoongi coos. “Good girl.” 
A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you. 
“Can I feel how wet you are?” 
A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.” 
You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted. 
“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue. 
He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently. 
“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?” 
You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.” 
He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”
You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?” 
Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?” 
The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine. 
He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?” 
Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.” 
A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?” 
You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—
You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath. 
“Spank my pussy again, please.” 
Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while. 
“Apologize first.” 
“You didn’t tell me how.” 
He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—
“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.” 
Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours. 
You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples. 
“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”
You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.
“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”
You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged. 
“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?” 
Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times. 
You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think. 
When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants. 
Roses, opening. Roses, sighing. 
You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—
“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half. 
There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath. 
Such a stark, sudden change. 
You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.
Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.
Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?
You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.
You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.
Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that. 
“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.” 
The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving. 
“Keep your legs where they belong.” 
“No.”
A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage. 
“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin. 
You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under. 
“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.
“You want to get fucked by someone else?” 
A question for a question. 
You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration. 
Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home. 
The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy. 
There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.
“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?” 
Truthfulness, at last.
Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start. 
You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down. 
You fight against it. 
Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness. 
And you decide to repeat history. 
You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants. 
The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat. 
“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?” 
You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether. 
And then, you collect your essence again. 
This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest. 
“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.” 
Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you. 
He parts his lips for you. 
And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally. 
You’re in charge. And it feels divine. 
His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue. 
“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.” 
A straight hit to his core. A glee for you. 
But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince. 
And then—then he manhandles you. 
Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does. 
He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden. 
Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter. 
“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?” 
You gulp, frozen, eyes widening. 
Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion. 
“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.” 
So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit. 
Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free. 
You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off. 
“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.” 
Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused. 
“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.” 
You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation. 
“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way. 
A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum. 
“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.” 
Yoongi has had enough. 
He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’. 
Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.” 
You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?” 
He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix. 
You moan his name, gone—entirely gone. 
“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?” 
He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him. 
“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”
Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.” 
He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you. 
“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.” 
You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.” 
He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something. 
Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—
Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.” 
You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you. 
“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.” 
You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come. 
It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them. 
“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.” 
You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes. 
“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.” 
With that, he hangs up. 
You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again. 
Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself. 
You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you. 
“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing. 
You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?” 
Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.” 
You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief. 
“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you. 
“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you. 
He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—
Yoongi loses his mind. 
And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles. 
“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.” 
He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours. 
But you don’t let him take charge. 
“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.” 
Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you. 
His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed. 
You hold onto his neck with your dear life. 
“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.” 
You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours. 
“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.
“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.” 
Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him. 
It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock. 
It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit. 
It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life. 
And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.
And it’s you who checks up on him. 
“You sure you’re okay with this?” 
You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too. 
He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring. 
“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.” 
You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation. 
“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?” 
You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness. 
“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him. 
“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.” 
“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.” 
Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you. 
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fadedin2u · 4 months
Text
christmas shopping
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MDNI 18+
summary: you go christmas shopping with ellie and things get heated in the victoria’s secret dressing room.
content/tw: afab!reader, fem!reader, nsfw, ass eating(r!receiving), cunnilingus(r!receiving), dom!ellie, sub!reader, sub!ellie for 2 seconds if u squint
notes: i can’t remember who wrote it, but someone wrote a fic about ellie fucking you in a dressing room and i needed to do my own take on it (btw this is barely proofread so sorry for any errors!)
you pick up a pink, lacy bra, checking to see if it's your size.
"els, isn't this so adorable?" you ask your girlfriend, turning around to gauge her reaction to the undergarment.
ellie has both hands full of the bags from previous stores you visited before coming into victoria’s secret. she was a great sport at first, thrilled to go christmas shopping with you, but you can tell that after hours of carrying around your shit and trailing after you like a baby duckling, she’s lost some of that enthusiasm.
“super adorable babe. wanna take it up to the cash register?” ellie suggests, trying desperately not to act as impatient as she feels.
you suddenly feel a little bad for making ellie watch you shop for so long, and you think for a moment before deciding to take pity on her in a much more amusing way than she could anticipate.
you pick up a few more panties and bras and start walking towards the dressing rooms.
“i just need to try these on first, i would hate to buy them and have to return them just because they don’t fit right.”
you look back at ellie, still standing in the place you left her with an exhausted look on her face.
“you coming?” you ask, smirking just a bit.
ellie perks up at that, realizing what you’re offering.
“fucking obviously” ellie says, walking quickly into the dressing room with you. she sets your bags down on the floor of the small dressing room, sitting on the bench.
“is this my reward for being your dutiful servant all day?” ellie asks as you shut the door and start stripping.
you roll your eyes, giggling, “no, your reward will come later tonight. this is just to hold you over.”
ellie’s eyes are locked on you as you remove your bra and panties, slipping on a pair of cheeky panties that match the pink, lacy bra you picked earlier. the underwear fit your body beautifully, which you’re secretly very thankful about.
you put the bra on and turn your back towards ellie, “can you do this up?”
ellie blinks a few times, knocked out of the stupor she was in, staring unabashedly at your ass.
“i’d prefer to be taking more clothes off of you, but sure,” ellie teases, doing up the back of your bra.
you look at yourself in the mirror, happy with the way the bra cups and shapes your breasts. clearly, so is ellie.
“god damn-“ ellie hands snake around your body to squeeze and cup your tits through the bra, her head resting on your shoulder to watch her groping you in the mirror, “i’m buying this shit for you asap. you look fucking criminal-“
you smirk a little to yourself, leaning back against ellie as she grinds her front against your ass, hearing her little grunts in your ear.
ellie starts kissing up your neck, one hand squeezing your tit with the other wrapped in front of your body to keep you in place as she ruts against you.
“please let me eat you out, baby, i’ll be so fucking good for the rest of this shopping trip- i’ll shop for 3 more fucking hours if you let me, just-“
you giggle, cutting her off. “go ahead. i knew what i was doing when i brought you in here.”
that’s all that ellie needs before pushing you up against the dressing room wall, gripping your ass as she kisses down your spine.
she drops to her knees, eye level with your ass as she squeezes the flesh there, kneading it through the underwear you tried on.
ellie can’t resist but press her face into your ass, moaning as she licks the lace fabric covering it.
“jesus fucking christ-“ ellie says before slapping your ass, breathing heavily as she watches the chub recoil and jiggle. you yelp a little, surprised
“i’m gonna fuck you up,” ellie says before pulling your underwear down.
“bend the fuck over, let me see that ass, baby. fucking present yourself to me,” ellie says, her voice slightly raspy as she slaps your ass again.
your cheeks are hot as you obey, arching your back as you bend over, your arms braced against the dressing room wall.
ellie wastes no time before eating it from the back, licking a fat stripe up your pussy.
“you’re fucking unreal-“ she whispers before pressing her face fully into you, groaning as she sticks her tongue down your entrance and bring it back to circle your clit.
you moan softly, your breath already shaky as she eats you out hungrily, nearly frantically. the sounds from ellie’s mouth, her slurping and lapping, is way too loud for these dressing rooms, but you can’t find it within yourself to give a shit right now.
ellie bring a hand around your hips to circle your clit with her middle finger, pulling her face back to admire your ass for a second.
“can i eat your ass, baby?” ellie asks, her voice hoarse and wrecked.
your eyes widen, looking back at ellie, “a-are you sure you want-“
“i fucking want to.” ellie says firmly, her eyes focused on your pussy and asshole.
you laugh a little, “sure, go ahead.”
you’re not laughing for very long before she licks a long strip from your clit to your asshole, circling her tongue around the ring of muscle.
you’re genuinely shocked at how good it feels, your hesitancy quickly melting away back into desperate need, “fuck-“
ellie laughs a little this time, “like that baby?”, continuing to lap you up and barely pressing her tongue past the ring of muscle as she moves the finger on your clit faster.
you’re wrecked, your face pressed into the wall pathetically, your legs shaking.
ellie brings the other hand that was gripping your ass down to your pussy, sliding in two fingers without warning.
“you take me so fucking well, baby, look at that-“ ellie says, watching her fingers pump out of you for a moment before going back to eat your ass, groaning into you as both hands work your pussy.
you moan and stuff your hand in your mouth to muffle it as you your hips jerk a little. ellie slips in a third finger.
“it’s okay, sweetheart- i got you-“ ellie in between laps of her tongue, “cum for me, fucking cum for me-“
you were going to anyways, but it’s great timing. ellie’s mouth and fingers launch you over the edge, pathetic whimpers muffled by your fist as your legs shake harder, heady pleasure rushing through your body.
when you come down, your legs nearly crumple, but she keeps a tight grip on your hips, keeping you up.
you pant heavily, face still smushed against the dressing room wall.
ellie laughs a little to herself, kissing your spine. “fuck… i’m gonna need to buy this fucking lingerie for you, aren’t i?”
2K notes · View notes
kissforyouu · 3 months
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...THAT is your boyfriend?
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pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!oc
genre : fluff
warning : mention of drugs , little bit of angst
request : tiktok
a/n : sorry this is rlly short but LONGER drabbles of this story r comingggg js need to get them out of the drafts LOL
unedited.
this is like after about 3 months into their relationship btw!
"padamdam damdamdampadamdam, tupadadadadadamdam..." you speak nonsense, hand around your boyfriend's arm as you scrolled through your phone.
jungkook huffs, giving you the side eye. "what are you even saying?"
"shush, don't say anything." you comment, giving him a small glare and going back to doing whatever you were doing on the phone.
"yes, ma'am."
you both were at the mall shopping, going from aisle to aisle looking for cute clothes. mostly for you. jungkook didn't really care about what he wore. just some dark coloured clothes and a few rings will do for him.
"i was...hmmm...ah! this is what i was looking for earlier." you show your boyfriend your phone which displayed a picture of a plastic figure of cinnamonroll.
"the fuck is that?" he couldn't help but laugh a little, taking the phone from your grasp and zooming into the figure.
"it's cinnamonroll." you give him a sour look. how could he not know!
"i swear, it was pink before." he kisses his teeth, tilting his head to the side, curious about the mysterious bunny (not) figure.
"baby, that was poron. his sister." you correct him. "it's a HE?" jungkook's jaw falls a little, turning to look at you with a shocked expression. yeah. i felt the same when i found out too.
"it's okay. me too. can't believe i was supporting a MAN. but he's really cute, i love him!" you smile. jungkook glances at your face then back at the phone with a small smile forming in the corner of his lips.
"okay, where do we find this guy?" he asks.
"YAY!"
that was before you grabbed his wrist and practically dragged him out of the store.
"mm, jungkook, nooo, it has to be here!" you sigh, going through each of the figures displayed on front. he just hums, not really paying any mind to your misery.
a few minutes pass by and you were still searching for the little guy. at this point, jungkook was getting a little tired. he looks over to you who was crouched down, going through a pile of figures in a basket. he decides to take matters into his own hands and find this little guy for his girlfriend.
so jungkook walks away from you across the store to the cashier, asking for help. he shows a picture of the figure to the cashier, and while he goes through their computer trying to find if he's still in stock, jungkook wonders why you didn't do this first. dumb little girl, he thinks.
"sorry sir, seems like it's out of stock." the cashier speaks. jungkook thanks him, walking back to you. but plot twist! you were gone!
but something catches jungkook's attention. some guy holding your bag outside the store. what?
the corner of his lip twitched upwards, to not to form a smile but rather to form a scowl. what was some rando doing with your bag? he was leaning against the wall with a grin, examining your bag like he owned it.
jungkook walks upto the guy, giving him a tap on the shoulder. the guy turns around to look at him, raising his head up. shortass, jungkook thought.
"why do you have her bag with you?" he points at the bag.
"what? why are you asking?" the guy furrows his eyebrows, his lips twitching up to a sour expression.
"because it's my girlfriend's bag, dumbfuck. where's she?"
girlfriend? the guy scans jungkook from top to bottom. long hair, tatted arms, piercings. y/n can't be possibly be into...that? she can do so much better. the guy looks like he's on drugs. he probably is! he thinks.
"no way y/n's dating a druggy like you." the guy laughs mockingly, clutching onto the purse.
"alright, little man. fuckin tell me where my girl is or i'll pluck your toenails out one by one." he looked as if he was about to beat up the guy then and there, and he probably was too.
"fucking hell, man. god, there she is!" the guy rubs the back of his head, clearly annoyed as he moved away from jungkook. meanwhile, jungkook immediately turns around to see you walking towards both of them with a confused look.
"where were you?" you ask.
"no, where were YOU? and who's this fucker holding your shit?" he points at the guy who's walking towards you. confidently too. as if he knows you better than anyone else. jungkook's jealous, it doesn't take a genius to understand that. angry too. really fucking pissed that this shortass little man is interrupting their date.
before you could answer, the guy cut you off.
"y/n, here's your stuff. and i don't know who this is, but he's—
"i'm her boyfriend, dumbfuck!" jungkook shouts, frustrated.
"is he?" he turns to look at you for confirmation.
"yeah...?" you nod.
"you never told me?" the guy scoffs.
"i don't have to tell you about everything going on in my life?" you frown.
"y/n, he looks like he cheats on you with a different girl every week." the guy comments.
okay no, what the fuck. you're not going to tolerate some meanass comment about your boyfriend. but you also don't want to cause a scene. okay, nevermind—
"the fuck did you just say?" jungkook's clearly offended. but before he could do more, you grab onto his arm and pull him back.
"let's go." you say. he didn't really reply to you, but just gave you a scoff. okay. he's not disagreeing either.
"matheo, i'll talk to you later." you don't even bother giving the guy a smile, but just drag jungkook away.
"what was that all about?" you squeeze his biceps. jungkook pulls his arm away from you, rolling his eyes.
"nothin." he mumbles.
not wanting to continue this topic further, you just nod.
but it's odd. it's been about 30 minutes and jungkook hasn't said anything to you except replying to whatever you tell him. he's also been keeping a small distance from you. what's wrong again. ugh.
"baby, what's wrong?" you look at your boyfriend who was sitting across you mindlessly scrolling on his phone. he raises his head up to take one glance at you but looks back down immediately. instead, he just shakes his head.
"no, i know something's wrong." you protest.
jungkook sighs, placing his phone on the table before finally looking at you.
"you really want me to tell you?" he asks, his expression rather serious. uh oh. you messed up. but fine, you'll take it. you hesitantly nod your head, nervously scratching your skirt with your nails.
"i'm tired of keeping this private. i know you wanted time till you felt like telling people, but it's been 3 months already and we still haven't told a single soul."
oh!
"i don't want to run into guys like that ever again. fucking shortass. you know i care about you and respect your feelings, right? but i just...you know, want to tell people. it's fine if you still wanna wait. but this is just how i feel." he sighs, turning his head to look away.
you couldn't help but pout a little at his confession. you know he's right. it's been 3 months.
"okay. let's tell people. i'm sorry for making you wait that long. and thank you for telling me, gguk." you smile at your boyfriend who's eyes lit up at the mention of you finally publicly posting about your relationship.
"you're sure about this?" he re-checks.
you nod in approval!
"fucking finally. i can beat up every guy who approaches you now."
"okay, no no no no." you laugh, disagreeing COMPLETELY. you knew he wasn't joking either.
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taglist: @fungie233 @wintertxt @wheexine @hyunjinswifeee @ohsweetmimosa @canyon-txt
1K notes · View notes
ja3yun · 26 days
Text
Red Ocean | P.JS
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vampire!jay x succubus!femreader warnings: smut (mdni), rough, unprotected sex, power dynamics, blood and biting (a lot of it), dirty talk, spanking, oral (m.rec), throat fucking, swallowing, mentions of manipulation and control (but all consensual!), not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 8.5k synopsis: with jongseong starving for his next feed as a self proclaimed veggie, his friend suggests visiting red ocean to quench his thirst, but when he gets there, there's something off about the place. a/n: hi! so listen, this is completely new territory for me bc i write cute lovey dovey scenes and this is pure FILTH. this was originally going to be a thank you for 1.5k (which thank you btw!) but i think i want to write something else for that since this kind of fic doesn't suit some people's taste, so please enjoy it as just a lil something. there is a lot of blood and vampire stuff so like, if you don't enjoy that, feel free to scroll!
Slumping onto the couch beside his buddy Jake, Jongseong looks like he's been through the wringer. His eyes are droopy, his head's pounding, and he's got this desperate hunger gnawing at him. "I'm fucking starving," he groans, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the craving for blood that's been driving him nuts.
It has been 4 weeks since he has had a decent meal and he is starting to lose the strength in his body, his powers growing weaker by the second. It’s gotten so bad that he almost mauled the girl next to him in the lift on the way up to his best friend, Jake’s apartment, thinking about how good it would be to pierce her neck and taste her blood on his tongue, drinking her until he’s stuffed.
But it goes against Jongseong’s number one rule: never feed from a human.
Jongseong has lived his life for 148 years and lived 127 years of it as a vampire. He has been a self-proclaimed vegetarian for over 60 years, vowing that now he can control his thirst around humans, he will never feed from anyone ever again. It was a personal choice, one that is lost on his friends because, to them, one of the greatest pleasures in this shitty never-ending life is to feast on fresh human blood.
It’s not that he didn’t love the taste of human blood, in fact, he often finds dinner within the confines of a type O blood bag that Jake kindly provides him when on shift. His friend works as a delivery man, transporting goods from one hospital to another, and sometimes while he has to use the ‘bathroom’ he sniffs out what he calls the Treasure Room; a room filled with red gold. Stealing the blood is easy, it’s understanding why Jongseong won’t just suck on a pure nape that is the hard part.
“There are some bags in the fridge,” Jake points over to his white, shabby refrigerator where he keeps some spare bags of sweet crimson for himself, “I can’t keep doing this, Jongseong. The hospitals are starting to notice and it’s hard enough to feed me never mind you,” he exhales heavily, trying to relay to Jongseong the burden he carries.
Jongseong sighs, fighting to find the energy to drag himself to the fridge, “I’m sorry, the closest woods is 5 hours away and wildlife doesn't exactly run rampant around these parts,” he retorts, hoping his friend will understand his struggle.
The bags are nice, but they’re cold and stale, he wants something warm and substantial, something only living beings can provide. Unfortunately for him, deer and foxes have been scarce in recent weeks.
Nodding, Jake pulls himself off the couch to grab him and his friend a bag. Jongseong watches Jake take the blood bags from the refrigerator, his stomach twisting with relief and remorse. He despises having to rely on Jake for meals, knowing the toll it puts on his friend.
Jake hands him one of the bags before sitting beside him once again, concern etched on his face, “You could start feeding from humans again,” he suggests, knowing that it’s sort of a lost cause. Jongseong has been a veggie for so long that he knows the idea is ludicrous to him, but it seems like his only option now.
“Not a chance in hell,” Jongseong argues back, piercing his fangs into the blood bag and sucking some out of it, his eyes lighting up as he tastes the sweetness. Despite his love for human blood, he stands by his morals, “I’m not that person, I’m not like those mosquitoes from the Tracks.”
The Tracks are notorious for hosting some of the most bloodthirsty vampires to roam Seoul. They’re lethal and dangerous; in Jongseong’s eyes, they might as well be parasites. He knows it’s wrong to cast judgment on a whole group of people based on a few individuals, but these creatures aren’t like Jake and Jongseong; they’re predatory and conniving, doing whatever it takes to get humans to surrender to them, even if that means abusing their power.
Jongseong vowed to never do such a thing, to keep humans safe. After all, he was laid victim to the hands of a vampire all those years ago, why would he now wish to cause the same harm to an innocent being? 
Jake sits up straight, his thinking cap secured firmly on his head, “What if they consented? Like how Bona has consented to me?” he offers as a solution.
Bona is Jake’s long-term human blood bag turned girlfriend, she allows Jake to take what he needs from her, trusting him to never harm her. It works tremendously well, however, as much as she is there to provide herself to her man, Jake doesn’t like to abuse the offering, hence the use of blood bags for himself.
Jongseong scoffed, recognising the uniqueness of Jake's situation, "It’s alright for you to say, your girlfriend is the most chilled person I know. Could you imagine if I just walked up to someone and was like ‘Hey, can I suck on one of your main arteries for a couple of minutes?’ I’m sure that’ll go down well,” he remarked sarcastically, highlighting the absurdity of the notion.
Suddenly, Jake’s eyes light up as if he had come up with the solution to all of Jongseong’s problems, “What about Red Ocean?” he queries.
“The sex club? I’m hungry, not horny, Jake,” Jongseong says back.
Red Ocean is a famous strip joint in the middle of town that also provides bonus services to those who throw enough money around. It’s not the worst place in the world but it is certainly not what he is looking for.
“Well you’re single as well as hungry,” Jake starts, his face never diminishing his bright expression, “What if you could quench both thirsts at once?”
Jongseong had no problem getting laid, in fact, he was good as it gets for a superb fuck around these parts; it didn’t take long for him to lure women into his bed for a one night thing. But that didn’t mean he feasted on them, he was far too much a gentleman for that. The woman that he slept with signed up to get pounded into, not drained of their blood.
"What the fuck are you even suggesting? That I go feed off some poor girl just because she's a sex worker? It's a legitimate profession, you know," Jongseong argues vehemently, placing the now-empty blood bag on the coffee table before him.
Rolling his eyes, Jake lets out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, yeah, we all know you’re a feminist" he quips, brushing off Jongseong's defence, "But Red Ocean isn't just your run-of-the-mill sex club. My buddy Jungwon told me they've got a whole section specifically for vampires like us. Plenty of willing donors, no strings attached."
Jongseong runs a hand over his face, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in, "But why would anyone agree to that?" he wonders aloud, struggling to comprehend the idea of people willingly offering themselves up as disposable blood bank for a paycheck.
Shrugging nonchalantly, Jake takes a sip from his own blood bag, "Different strokes for different folks, I guess," he offers with a shrug as if that explains everything, "I'll have Wonnie send over the details."
Despite his reservations, Jongseong knows that his hunger won't be satisfied for long with just blood bags. Reluctantly, he nods, conceding to Jake's suggestion. Perhaps Red Ocean holds the key to quelling his insatiable cravings without compromising his morals. Only time will tell.
_____
Standing outside the red-lit nightclub, Jongseong hypes himself up to enter, his comfort zone being pushed to its brink. He is a homebody who enjoys binging TV shows and playing his guitar, so this venture is foreign to him. 
His nervousness is heightened by the fact that he is here alone. Jake, being the devoted lover he is, would never risk an argument with Bona over a place like this. And Jongseong's other dependable friend, Heeseung, is preoccupied with a work assignment, leaving him to traverse this foreign environment on his own.
Despite his concerns, Jongseong knows he can't back out now, the hunger that lies in the pit of his stomach is only getting worse. With a final steeling of his will, he pushes open the club's entrance and enters the throbbing, crimson-hue interior, prepared to face whatever awaits him within.
The place really lives up to its name Red Ocean because all he can see in front of him is red; red lighting and neon signs, the workers are all laced with some form of red attire, and there is an ocean of people. Jongseong looks like a deer in the headlights as he walks up to the reception desk. 
His gaze is immediately drawn to a sultry figure standing near the entrance. She's the epitome of allure, with long, flowing hair cascading over her shoulders and a figure that curves in all the right places. Her eyes, smouldering with an enticing gaze, seem to beckon him forward.
She stands behind a large desk area, her presence commanding attention as she takes in the arrivals with a knowing smile. Dressed in a form-fitting dress that accentuates her ample curves, she exudes an air of confidence and sensuality that leaves Jongseong momentarily breathless.
As Jongseong approaches, he can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to his cheeks under her gaze. Her lips curve into a seductive smile as she extends a manicured hand towards him, her voice smooth as velvet as she speaks.
"Welcome to Red Ocean," she purrs, her voice laced with a hint of mischief, “How can we fulfil your desires tonight?” Her question hangs in the air as Jongseong is entranced by her.
He can’t put his finger on it, but suddenly he’s more tired than before, his body almost as if it’s being led on its own, like he’s having a strange out-of-body experience. Perhaps it’s the heat mixed in with the smoke, or maybe it’s something more.
Clearing his throat nervously, Jongseong tries to regain his composure as he addresses the hostess. "Um, yeah, I was told there's a private area?" he asks, hoping she'll understand his subtle hint.
With a dark smile, the hostess nods, her gaze lingering on him with a knowing glint. "Absolutely, sir. For £700, you can enjoy the company of one of our talented performers in a private setting, with a complimentary bottle of champagne," she explains smoothly, her fingers dancing across the screen of her iPad.
Jongseong defiantly shakes his head, “No, no, none of that,” he notices how her smile drops as if he has offended her, “No! I just don’t…I don’t need that kind of service,” he says softly. This is going a lot more awkwardly than he had planned. The last thing he needs to do is offend her, this could be his only chance at a proper meal for weeks.
There’s also a nagging voice in the back of his mind that’s telling him to be careful. Telling this woman outright that he is a vampire could end disastrously, hunters lurk in every corner of the city, waiting for their moment to capture vampires exactly like him. It’s not easy to tell who is a hunter and who isn’t, so for all he knows, this club could be collecting vampires and luring them in with possibilities of feeding when in actual fact, they will tear them limb from limb and burn them out back.
He has to tread carefully here.
The atmosphere is heavy around him as he tries to regain control of the situation, but with his energy low, it’s proving difficult, “Do you provide…special services?” he asks, puffing out his chest a little to feign confidence.
Jongseong isn’t a timid person, he’s always been known for being strong and confident but for some reason, he’s regressed back to his little awkward, virgin self. This place is throwing his entire aura off and messing with his head. Maybe it’s just the hunger that sits within him.
The hostess eyes him sceptically, her gaze lingering on him in a way that sets his nerves on edge. "We offer a variety of unique services, tailored to each individual's preferences," she replies, her voice dipping seductively as she sizes him up. "So, sir, how can I ensure you have the best experience possible?"
Jongseong shifts uncomfortably under the weight of the hostess's scrutiny, his mind racing with uncertainty. He hadn't expected this encounter to be so challenging. Every instinct tells him to tread cautiously, to protect himself from potential danger while still satisfying his hunger.
"I... I'm looking for something," Jongseong finally manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something... off the menu, so to speak."
The hostess raises an eyebrow, her expression unreadable as she considers his request but she doesn’t budge, in fact, she crosses her arms, clearly having enough of this encrypted conversation. Jongseong needs to be straightforward if he wants to leave here fully satisfied.
The password.
How could he forget that Jake had texted him a password? Once Jake had asked his friend Jungwon for more details, he said the only way to get into the back area with the other vampires was with a password. Jongseong’s brain has been so clouded since he walked in here that he completely forgot the one important detail.
"Dracaena Trifasciata," he manages to utter, though his pronunciation leaves much to be desired. Still, the hostess's reaction tells him he got the message across, her bored expression transforming into a sly smirk.
As Jongseong watches, spellbound, the hostess's transformation leaves him momentarily breathless. Her once closed-off demeanour now radiates warmth and familiarity, as if she's greeting an old friend rather than a stranger.
"My little crimson crusader," she purrs, her voice sending a shiver down Jongseong's spine. "Why didn't you just say so?"
Her words are like a siren's call, drawing Jongseong closer until he stands before her, unable to resist her magnetic presence. As she reaches across the desk, her hands beckoning him nearer, Jongseong obeys without hesitation, his curiosity mingled with a sense of trepidation.
With deft fingers, she undoes the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt, her touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across his skin. He feels a flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach as her hands glide over his chest, exploring with an intimacy that leaves him feeling exposed and vulnerable.
She tilts her head, her gaze locking with his in a silent exchange of understanding. Jongseong can't tear his eyes away from hers, captivated by the depths of emotion swirling within them.
Despite the warmth of her touch, Jongseong can't shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at the edges of his consciousness. There's something about her that feels off, something that sets his instincts on edge. She isn’t a vampire, the heat of her touch is enough to clarify, but she is certainly no human.
But as he stands there, caught in her gaze, he finds himself unable to pull away. Whatever she is, whatever secrets she holds, Jongseong knows one thing for certain: he's in deeper than he ever imagined, and there's no turning back now.
As she pulls away, a sense of relief washes over him, though he can still feel the lingering intensity of the hostess's gaze. Standing upright behind her desk once more, she regards him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, "You're a lot younger than those we see around these parts. You can't be any more than 160," she muses, her perceptive gaze honing in on Jongseong's youthful aura.
"I'm 148," Jongseong admits quietly, a hint of embarrassment colouring his tone. He's never given much thought to his age, existing as a perpetual 21-year-old who happened to live through 3 plagues and 2 world wars. 
Pouting playfully, the hostess holds a hand over her heart in mock sympathy, "Aw, you're just a baby," she coos, her tone patronising. The remark sends a surge of irritation coursing through Jongseong, his shoulders tensing and his jaw clenching involuntarily.
He suppresses the urge to retort, reminding himself to tread carefully in this unfamiliar territory. Despite the hostess's seemingly jovial demeanour, there's an underlying edge to her words that sets him on edge.
Circling the desk, the hostess stands in front of the young vampire, her body dangerously close to his as she leans up and presses her lips to his ear, “Follow me, I’ll lead you to everything you’re starving for,” she whispers. Jongseong feels a shiver run down his spine as the hostess's warm breath caresses his ear, her words sending a jolt of anticipation through him. Despite the warning bells ringing in the back of his mind, he finds himself unable to resist the allure of her invitation.
_____
As Jongseong weaves through the crowded club, his senses are assaulted by the mingling scents of sweat, alcohol, and, most tantalizingly, human blood. Each passerby sends a wave of hunger coursing through him, his fangs threatening to descend at any moment. But he clenches his jaw, reminding himself of his resolve to abstain from feeding on humans. Yet, isn’t that what he’s on his way to do?
Beside him, the hostess effortlessly navigates the throng of clubgoers, her presence commanding attention wherever she goes. She greets familiar faces with a knowing smile, exchanging pleasantries with ease. Jongseong can't help but marvel at her confidence and poise, even as his own nerves threaten to betray him.
Eventually, they reach a door marked "Staff," but as the hostess swings it open, Jongseong is met with an unexpected sight - a long, dimly lit brick corridor stretching out before him. The hostess glances back at him, urging him to follow with a subtle gesture.
With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, Jongseong steps through the doorway, the weight of uncertainty heavy on his shoulders. He can't shake the feeling that he's venturing into uncharted territory, but with the promise of satisfying his hunger looming before him, he presses on.
As they reach the end of the corridor, Jongseong's heart quickens with anticipation, his senses heightened as they stand before the heavy, rusty door, “It’s just through here…” she trails off, silently asking for his name.
“Jongseong,” he replies, bowing his head in politeness. 
"Jessica," she offers in return, a slight grin playing on the corners of her mouth. Her simple gesture of introducing herself somehow eased the tension that had been coiling in his chest.
Jessica pushes open the door, revealing what can only be described as another reality. As Jongseong crosses the threshold, he feels as if he has been transported to a place beyond his imagination. The space before him is bathed in a delicate, ethereal glow, and the air vibrates with a palpable energy that awakens his senses. Peculiar symbols decorate the walls, their significance unknown to Jongseong but imbuing the place with an aura of ancient mysticism.
Jongseong's eyes widen in astonishment as he takes in the scene before him. The space beyond the heavy door is bustling with activity, filled with vampires from every generation lounging on plush couches and perched on bar stools. Gone is the facade of the club he had entered earlier; this is the true heart of Red Ocean.
The lavish area makes Jongseong question everything he has ever known. How many places are there like this? He hadn’t heard about this secret club until only a few days ago, so how long has it been here?
More importantly, “Uh, how much is this service?” he asks timidly as his eyes still scouting around the area where vampires are chatting away as if they aren’t deadly creatures of the night.
“Oh baby boy, don’t worry about that,” she smirks, turning to face him. It’s an ominous response, one that doesn’t fill him with much confidence, but he’s so hungry and weak that he can’t afford to pass up this opportunity due to mere scepticism. As long as it doesn’t break the bank, he’s willing to pay whatever he needs to quench this thirst.
The air in this new section of the club only serves to make him feel weaker like it’s sucking the breath from his lungs.
As Jessica looks around the room, his eyes follow, leading him to see a beautiful girl leaning against the bar, nursing her drink. The hostess’ face beams as she ushers the mystery girl over, much to Jongseong’s delight.
He might only be here to feed but who says he can’t indulge in these needs with someone beautiful like her?
“Y/N! Over here,” Jessica shouts, gesturing her friend forward. 
As you hear Jessica's call, you set your drink down, licking the remnants of the sweet beverage from your lips. It’s been a slow night for you, your usual boy cancelling last minute, leaving you in desperate need of someone new, someone to play with.
Snaking your way towards the awkward boy, you make sure your movements are purposeful, each sway of the hip intentional as you lure him into your vice. He’s a pretty little thing, much prettier than half of the men here, so you find yourself trying to grip him with your movements, beckoning him closer with every step.
As you approach him, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you. There's something about him that sets him apart from the others in the room, something that makes your pulse quicken with anticipation. 
This is going to be a fun night.
"You are just the girl I need to treat my little sucky cup here well," Jessica states with a teasing grin, tracing her hand down Jongseong's arm, causing him to swallow deeply, "Could you take him off my hands?"
As you get closer, a rush of exhilaration runs through you. Jongseong's lingering gaze on you, hunger and desire in his eyes, just adds gasoline to the fire that is blazing within you.
Stepping closer, you rub his chest, much like the hostess had done but your touch is a lot more enticing, the way your fingertips linger on his skin a little too long causes his dick to twitch and his knees to crumble, as if he wanted to bow down and worship the ground you walked on.
Your leg slips between his, your knee rubbing against his inner thigh, close enough that he can feel it near his cock but far away enough to have him whining for more contact, "What's your name, baby?" you ask softly, your voice dripping with seduction as you look up at him through hooded eyes. You can see the desire burning in his gaze, the hunger for something more, and you're more than willing to give him what he craves, even if he doesn’t quite know what that is yet.
Jongseong's chest tightens at your touch, and his senses are overwhelmed by the magnetism you exude. With each passing second, he becomes fascinated by your presence, unable to resist the pull of attraction that draws him closer to you.
"Jongseong...Jay....Jongseong," he replies, his voice a frantic whisper. Your proximity, mixed with the gentle motions of your body against his, causes him to feel dizzy with need.
You stifle a laugh as your nails dig into his chest, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Jongseong. "Jongseong Jay Jongseong, I’m Y/N," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction, "Would you like me to take you somewhere with a little more privacy?"
Your gaze meets his with an intensity that sends a shiver down his spine, your fingers digging into his flesh with a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Or would you like to have an audience?" you continue, your eyes wandering to the left.
Jongseong follows your gaze, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes in the scene before him. To the left, round couches are cluttered with vampires indulging in their primal desires, feeding from their claimed workers, fucking into them with velocity. Some couples are locked in passionate embraces, their bodies entwined in a frenzy of lust, while others simply watch on, their eyes gleaming with arousal.
One particular couple catches Jongseong's attention, the sight of blood dripping down the girl's body as she relishes the feeling of a vampire pounding into her from behind, their shared moans only silenced by the loud music that surrounds the club. He hates to admit it, but it makes Jongseong’s dick twitch.
Peeling his eyes away, he returns his gaze to you, “Private, please.”
You withdraw your body from him, leaving him aching for your touch. You held so much power over him despite being a supernatural creature, "A gentleman, huh?" you tease, your voice dripping with amusement. "Let's see how long that lasts." He can't help but feel a sense of longing as you tease him with your words, your playful demeanour only adding to the intensity of his need.
If he was starving before, he’s ravenous now.
You lightly intertwine your fingers with his as you pull him towards your private room,  the knuckles of his hand brush along your ass as you stay a step in front of him. His eyes rake over the back of your body and take in the sight of you. You are perfect in every way, your body exactly his type, the lingerie set you have on is a beautiful white laced number that leaves nothing to the imagination. 
Jongseong is too busy admiring the way your ass cheeks jiggle as you walk that he doesn’t even notice you opening the door and leading him in. Your presence is like a drug all on its own, like he needs to surrender himself to you to experience the full pleasure. 
The moment Jongseong sets his eyes on the room and not your body, he's enveloped in a world of sensual decadence and luxury. The walls are draped in rich, red and gold fabrics, casting the space in a warm, inviting glow. Intricate patterns adorn the walls, adding a touch of opulence to the intimate setting.
In the centre of the room sits a large, lavish round bed, its sheets adorned with intricate designs that shimmer in the soft light. The bed beckons invitingly, promising hours of pleasure and indulgence for those who dare to partake.
To one side of the room, a collection of toys is splayed out in the corner, their presence adding a hint of playful excitement to the air. From silk restraints to feathered ticklers, the array of implements promises endless possibilities for exploration and delight.
But that’s not what he is here for, he is here for a quick feed to tide him over for the next few weeks until he can go out hunting again. This is transactional and absolutely nothing more.
Lighting a few candles on the mantlepiece, you hear him speak up behind you, “Uhm, you should know that I’m not here to have sex or anything, I just need to feed a little,” he confesses.
The room, though exquisitely decorated, suddenly feels charged with tension as Jongseong's words hang in the air. The candles flicker softly, casting dancing shadows across the red and gold decor as you turn to face him, your expression unreadable.
"Excuse me?" you respond, your voice laced with disbelief. For a moment, Jongseong can sense a flash of anger in your eyes, a flicker of indignation at his suggestion.
But before he can backtrack, Jongseong rushes to explain himself, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "I'll pay for the full service!" he blurts out, desperation evident in his voice. "But to be honest, I just need some blood, that's all."
You laugh, slowly sleeking your way back to him. If he was turned on by the view of you from the back, he was foaming at the mouth as he took in the sight of your breasts spilling slightly out of the white-laced cups. 
“Jongseong, who told you about this place?” you ask, leading him to sit down on the edge of the bed.
“A friend of a friend,” he replies, trying not to touch your sides with his big hands despite the urge that flows through him. 
To make matters harder for him, you straddle Jongseong's lap and a surge of arousal courses through him at the feeling of your barely covered pussy pressing against his covered cock. His breath catches in his throat as you wrap your arms around his neck, your proximity overwhelming his senses.
"And did this friend of a friend tell you about our services? What it entails?"
With a playful pout, you gaze into his eyes, your seductive gaze leaving him feeling helpless under your spell. His mind goes blank, his thoughts scattered as he struggles to gather his thoughts in the face of your overwhelming allure. All he can do is shake his head in response to your question, his lips parting slightly in silent anticipation.
Blinking slowly, you draw him in closer, your silent command irresistible as he leans towards you, drawn by an invisible force he can't resist. And as your lips hover mere inches apart, you whisper words that send a shiver down his spine.
"You feed from my blood," you murmur, your voice sending a thrill through him as you grind down onto him, eliciting a shallow moan that you swallow eagerly, "And I feed from your desire."
It’s like something finally clicks in his brain; the lack of energy, the pull you have on him, his hunger replaced with a burning desire, the password being a succulent snake plant. You were no human.
“You're a succubus,” he whispers, the words hanging in the air as confirmation of what he's known deep down all along.
Placing your hands on his cheeks, you hold him in place as you swipe your tongue along his lip, tasting him for the first time. He tastes like honey, the sweetest taste you won’t be able to get enough of.
Taking his hands that are clenched tightly by his sides, you open them up and place them on your breasts which he happily obliges, “We can be called many things, succubi, Lilith’s angels, demons, the list is endless.”
As Jongseong squeezes your tits, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you, the sensation heightened by the contrast between the supple softness of your skin and the rough texture of your lingerie. Despite his attempts to resist, he finds himself unable to break free from your hold, drawn deeper into the web of desire you've woven around him. Even if he wasn’t under your spell, he doesn’t really know if he would want to stop anyway.
"We can be called many things - succubi, Lilith's angels, demons," you murmur, your voice dripping with seduction as you revel in his touch. "The list is endless."
As you speak, Jongseong can feel the weight of centuries of history and lore pressing down on him, the knowledge that vampires and succubi have long been intertwined, using one another to get what they need. But while vampires may pose a threat to humans with their insatiable thirst for blood, succubi wield power far more dangerous, feeding off human desire and emotional vulnerability.
Thus, Archangel Michael made it his mission many years ago to rid God’s great earth of any incubi and succubi, summoning his choir to catch them and burn their souls. The purge started in the 1910s, causing most demons like you to go into hiding, to save yourself from obliteration. 
It makes sense why Jongseong had never heard of this secret part of the club before, they had a lot to lose if news got out. For Michael’s choir, if they were to find out about this place, they would have a field day, picking apart each and every one of them.
You see his brain ticking and it makes you giggle, “We can help one another out, no?” you pose the question, knowing you can make him say whatever you need him to, to do whatever you please with him. Flicking your hair to the side, you expose your pure nape, “C’mon Jongseong, aren’t you starving?” you say seductively, your tone hushed as you emphasise the word starving.
Jongseong’s hand reaches up to touch your exposed neck to feel the blood pumping through your veins. He can hear it coursing along your neck, begging to be drunk by him. He licks his lips in longing, knowing that what he craves is just under your thin layer of skin.
As Jongseong's body reacts to your touch, his primal impulses take control, pushing him to the brink of want. His trousers tighten, a physical indication of his intense yearning. In his mind, he tells himself that you, your power, that is causing him to feel this way. But deep down, a nagging doubt persists: is it truly you, or are his own primitive urges driving him to the point of desperation?
Lost in the haze of lust, Jongseong finds himself unable to distinguish between reality and desire. The line between craving your blood and yearning to be buried deep inside your heat blurs, leaving him consumed by a frenzied need that threatens to overwhelm him.
His finger pricks your neck, drawing some blood as a taster out of the tiny wound. Involuntarily, his fangs protrude as he smells your sweet crimson blood, his mouth watering at the idea of devouring you right here, right now.
You know you’ve won, you’re going to get what you need and all at the expense of a tiny bit of blood, “That’s it, baby, give in to temptation,” you urge him, pulling his face closer to your neck. You can feel his breath ghosting over the wound and it makes your body press itself against him, seeking your own form of satisfaction.
Finally, he gives in, licking up the droplet of blood that seeps out of your neck before piercing you harshly. He savours the taste of your blood on his tongue, his senses ablaze with euphoria. Demon blood is intoxicating, having the same effect on vampires as alcohol does on humans, leaving vampires delirious with pleasure. He’s gentle compared to the older men you’ve had, meaning he has some form of restraint in him left.
Undoing his buttons, you slip off his shirt past his shoulders, hands roaming over his tanned skin as you crave to feel every inch of him. You tickle up his sides softly, causing his arms to instinctively pull you closer, pressing your tits against his bare chest as he revels in the sensation.
Retracting from your neck, his mouth stained with your blood, Jongseong's eyes meet yours with a newfound determination, "Stop controlling me," he demands, his voice laced with defiance as he challenges your hold over him.
But you shake your head, refusing to relinquish your grip, "Sorry, I can't do that," you reply, your tone unapologetic, "It's the only way I can get my end of the deal."
Jongseong bristles at your refusal, his determination only growing stronger, "Stop controlling me, and I'll fuck you properly," he challenges, his words a bold declaration of his intent.
Capturing your lips in his, he bites down on your bottom lip, sucking the sweet blood from it as he loses himself in the moment, bucking his hips up to rub his jeans against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.
In that moment, Jongseong proves himself to be more than just another vampire under your control. With his youth and vigour, he possesses a raw intensity that sets him apart, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter than ever before.
Licking along his right fang to taste your own blood, you moan out, craving him more than anyone ever before, “Fine. But don’t disappoint me, baby. I would hate to use you like a puppet,” you whisper back, your tongue collecting more of your blood from his chin.
In a flash, Jongseong feels like he finally has his energy back, that weight of your control finally lifted, leaving him the opportunity to do whatever he wants with you. Although he knew the intensity of your manipulation, he hadn’t realised how freeing it was to be in control of his own body.
Quickly, he lifts you up and tosses you on the bed, his strength showing as you fly up to the middle of the large bed. His display of strength only fuels your desire for him further. 
You pull him by his neck to hover over you, kissing him messily as you breathe in his need for you, “Tell me what gets you off,” you say quietly, a smirk playing on your lips as you lend your hand down to cup his cock through his jeans, “You want me to suck you off?”
Jongseong groans into the kiss, the idea of your pretty lips around his shaft only sending him further into a tizzy, “Fuck yes, Princess. You think you can handle it?” his grip lands on your throat, squeezing it tightly as he shuts off your airwaves for a millisecond, “You think your tiny little mouth and throat can take me all the way?”
He originally came in here for your blood, but now all he’s thinking about is how he needs you bent over every surface, in every position, and having you begging for him. Something is appealing to him to hold so much power over one of hell’s strongest demons. Especially in your own playground.
You haven’t seen his cock, but your mouth starts to water just at the thought of it. Honestly, you didn’t expect him to be so vocal and demanding considering when you saw him he looked like he turned into the wrong club.
Maybe he was full of surprises.
Pushing him off you with all your might, you take control once again, “Edge of the bed, baby,” you instruct, sticking by your promise to not manipulate him into doing what you want, however, if he proves to be difficult, you might need to take things into your own hands.
Luckily, he’s an obedient little bat, taking off his bottoms before sitting down, stroking his thick cock as he waits for you to get into position. 
You give him a light kiss on his lips before trailing down his neck. Your actions leave your wounds seeping in front of him, inviting him to drink your blood once more. It stops you in your tracks but you don’t mind, the sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking over your wounds somehow made your pussy throb.
His fangs are anchored into you, stopping you from moving. He can’t get enough of you, your blood slowly turning into an addiction as he drains you, feeding himself full of you. 
Reaching your hand down, you grab his cock and yank it, causing him to yelp and withdraw his mouth from you. Jongseong’s eyes are wide as if questioning your intentions but you only offer him a laugh as a response, kissing into his mouth as you stroke him slowly.
Your soft hands feel amazing on his member, the way you expertly tug and squeeze him in all the right ways, it’s sensational, but he needs more. One of his hands pulls your face, holding it tightly in place as he stares deep into your eyes, “Are you going to suck my cock like you promised? Or do I have to fuck your throat instead?”
If you weren’t already wet, you were now. It’s as if he knows exactly what to say to get your motor running like he somehow knows all your turn-ons. Placing one last kiss on his lips, you snake down to his hardened length, tip pink with arousal. It’s so inviting, practically begging to be sucked.
Swiftly, you take his head into your mouth, sucking eagerly as you look up at him, eyes glistening with want and need. 
Jongseong moans out, the sight of you taking his cock in your pretty mouth while your blood is smudged all over your lips, it’s a sight he wants to etch into his brain forever. For all the years he’s been alive, this might be his favourite moment.
You love it too. As Jongseong's desire amplifies, you feel a surge of energy coursing through you, fueled by the intensity of his lust. It's a sensation unlike any other, the raw power of his desire feeding into your own, replenishing your energy with every breath he takes.
Taking him deeper into your mouth, you lay your tongue flat and bop your head up and down at a perfect pace. Jongseong grips your hair tight, creating knots in the strands as he pulls at your roots. The motion elicits a hum from your throat, sending a vibration through his cock straight to his tight balls. 
“Fuck, Princess, you’re so fucking good at that,” he states the obvious, knowing that you do this often, but this was a new experience for him, not one person has ever come close to sucking cock as good as you do.
You smile as you look up at him, your cunt dripping from his praises. It means something more when the men you’re with are saying those sorts of things out of their own free will, not because you’re feeding those thoughts into their minds.
Jongseong can feel himself getting close, ready to cum down your throat and have you swallow it. He thrusts into your mouth, now taking charge as he pushes your head down and bucks up, the back of your throat not stuffed with his fat cock.
“I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” he warns before shooting his load down your throat, each spurt making you gag as you struggle to swallow it. 
With his hand on your neck, Jongseong massages your throat, coaxing you to open wider and take in everything he has to offer. As he presses deeper into you, he can feel his length snugly nestled within your channel, the pressure from his hand adding to the pleasure coursing through him.
Finally, sensing your need for air, Jongseong pushes you off of him, allowing you to finally catch your breath. Despite not having even fucked you yet, you feel completely satiated, your body thrumming with the energy you've drawn from him.
You’re throat and face is red as you regulate your breaths, your voice hoarse as you begin to speak, “Did I meet your expectations?” you ask, biting your lip as you straddle him once more, his cock laying against your thigh.
Nodding, he pushes your hair back from your forehead, “You’re fucking unreal,” he whispers.
Laughing, you take hold of his spent cock, pumping him softly, “Can you fuck me, or is our session done?” you ask, hoping for a certain answer.
With his sensitive cock in your hand, he hisses, shutting his eyes as he revels in the sensation. He wants nothing more than to bend you over and fuck you senseless, but he needs to replenish the energy that he’s given away to you.
Jongseing takes your other hand, bringing your wrist to his lips. As he kisses your veins, his eyes remain locked onto yours, his teeth ready to sink in and take what he needs once again. Swiftly, he sinks his fangs in, causing you to tighten your grip on his dick, causing the vampire to moan out loudly. 
You take it as a sign to keep going, stroking him until he is hard again. 
The mixture of your hand working his oversensitive length and the blood he’s slurping out of you push his adrenaline to a new level, his energy replenished and his need to take you even more prominent than before.
Reluctantly, he removes himself from your wrist, kissing it softly before giving you it back, “I’m going to fuck you so good, you’re going to beg to be my personal blood bag,” he whispers, primal thirst for blood overtaking his body. But you don’t mind, truthfully, you like this side of him, it gets you off seeing him take control of you.
With a firm grip on your ass, Jongseong lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the centre of the bed and laying you down gently. Your heart pounds in anticipation as he moves your thong aside, exposing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.
Desperate for release, you wrap your legs around his hips, grinding your folds against his throbbing cock in search of any form of relief. The friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that spreads up to your stomach.
Jongseong's desire burns hot as he positions himself between your legs, his eyes locking with yours as he prepares to claim you as his own. At that moment, there's no room for hesitation or restraint - only the need to lose yourselves in the ecstasy of each other's embrace.
You arch your back, urging him to take you completely. The anticipation builds between you, each moment stretching out into eternity as you both crave the release that only each other can provide.
“Tell me you want it,” he demands, his mouth finding its way back to your neck. Mewling out, you try to push his cock inside of you but he holds steady, resisting your advances, “You were being so good earlier, what happened?” he tuts.
As hot as it is for him to be in charge, you can’t stand him getting too cocky, "I want you, but that's the difference, isn't it? I want you, but you need me," you tease, running your tongue across your bottom lip in defiance.
Jongseong clenches his jaw, and his eyes deepen with want. Despite his efforts to retain control, your words create a fire within him, creating a need that threatens to swallow him completely. But he pulls himself back, determined to show you that he is still in control.
With that, he thrusts into you with a force that leaves you gasping for breath, your walls clenching around him in response to the sudden intrusion. Each movement is calculated and deliberate as he sets a punishing pace that leaves you trembling with pleasure.
He takes you roughly, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out of your wet heat. A moan escapes your lips as you feel him stuff you to the brink, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. He’s holding no punches, making sure you know exactly who needs who.
Your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake as you cling to him desperately, your body writhing beneath his with unbridled passion. Every touch, every kiss, sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that threatens to consume you entirely. 
“Jongseong!” you cry out as he drives into you harder, making sure you feel every inch of him, your walls being battered by the strength of his large dick. He’s incredible, top 5 best fucks you’ve ever had.
As Jongseong sits up, his hands pressing firmly against your back to arch you, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you as he drives himself even deeper inside you. His commanding presence leaves you breathless, lost in the intensity of the moment, “Tell me you need me,” he hisses out, spanking your ass as he thrusts faster, “Go on, beg for it.”
His demand sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but cry out in ecstasy. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, your body trembling with anticipation as he takes you to new heights of pleasure.
With your resistance cracking beneath the force of his want, you find yourself entirely succumbing to him. Your raw, needy voice fills the room as you scream for more, your words a desperate plea for relief.
"I need you, Jongseong," you cry, your voice full of longing, "I need you to fill me up, to give me your cum." Despite the roughness of his previous ministrations when he was fucking your throat silly, you find your voice somehow, driven by an intense yearning that runs through you.
A triumphant grin spreads across his face as you give in. He drags you up by your hair and makes you sit on his cock as he piledrives into you harder, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot. Your neck is still pumping out blood but he knows he can do better than that; his teeth sink into you again, tearing the flesh as he rips into you, feeding from you like a man starved for centuries. The blood drips down onto your white lingerie, turning it pink.
In the throes of ecstasy, pure bliss envelops you both as you reach the pinnacle of pleasure, screaming out each other's names in a symphony of release.
"Jongseong!" you cry out, your walls clenching tightly around him as he spills his seed deep inside you. His movements slow but remain powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Your limbs go limp as you bask in the aftermath of your shared climax, your heat still clinging to him desperately, unwilling to let him go. Every inch of your being feels alive with pleasure as if you've been transported to another realm of existence.
Collapsing on top of you, Jongseong’s pants are short as he tries to catch his breath, his entire body exhausted. His tongue licks your wounds lazily, hoping it can heal you somewhat while also drinking every last drop of his dinner. 
“You’re amazing, Y/N,” he whispers into your nape, “Are you okay? Was it too much?” he asks with genuine concern, warming your chest a little.
“I’m good, thanks, Jongseong,” your voice is hushed, the effort to speak proving too much. 
He rolls off of you, examining your body to make sure there’s nothing bleeding out. You spot him doing this and laugh, “I’m fine, it takes a lot more to kill me than some vampire bites.”
It fills him with relief to know you’ll be okay. He hasn’t ever gone that far before, giving into his vampire urges so easily. He had lost complete control tonight, but as scary as that is, he wants to experience that again.
No deer or cow will ever compare to the sweet taste of you.
Almost like reading his mind, you lean against the headboard and speak up, “If you see Jess, she’ll be able to book you in for a next time.” Your eyes glimmer with mischief and also promise. You want to be devoured by him again by any means necessary. 
Nodding, Jongseong begins to get dressed, using the wet cloths provided by the club to clean his face of any blood. It’s a shame that all that beautiful red nectar going to waste.
“What if I don’t come back?” he teases, a smirk gracing his beautiful face as he turns to you.
“You will, they always do.”
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alwaysshallow · 3 months
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Okay but imagine this Somehow ghost is at higher!ranked readers house It's just him , her And her baby (No Cheating husband around) And it starts to rain outside with thunder the baby Starts to cry and everything
And fucking simon Is just holding the baby like if it was his And of course he calms the baby down
And higher!ranked reader is just looking at him just with loving eyes.. ( And maybe they can have their first actual kiss there😗.... just a maybe...)
Btw I absolutely love your writing!
-🦷
You don't hear it first.
Tired, right in your apartment, taking a nap while Ghost works over some documents that you were supposed to work over with him—he's kind enough not to wake you since he knows how much you have to hold.
Maybe that's why he picks up the baby the moment she cries, cooing. Such a large, violent man, with war in his head, haunted by ghosts of the past, has your baby in his arms, being the softest he can. Whispering soothing words on her anxious little mind, overwhelmed by the storm that's happening outside.
It's the lightning that wakes you. Not the angry baby, nor the Simon that does his best to put the baby back to sleep.
For a moment, you're scared. Unable to find a baby, anxious, when you leave your bedroom in a hurry, just to see the idyllic picture of your baby girl and Simon.
"I've got it, mama," he murmurs. Low, not to wake up the baby that's already closing her eyes. You know it's the span of seconds and she’s gonna be in her happy place again. 
“You can give her to me. It’s not your duty—”
“—but somethin’ I want to do,” he cuts you off, shaking his head. “She woke up, and I was near, so… not a big deal.”
It is a big deal. At least, a big deal for you—you can’t really remember when your husband decided to do this for his own baby. It was always a problem; he’s tired, exhausted, he’s done it before. Excuses, nothing else, but excuses.
And here is Simon Riley.
Despite your thoughts, you smile a little. “Right. Got those fatherly instincts?” You raise your eyebrow, teasingly. He huffs, but before he says something, you place a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”
The minute he frowns, you think you overcrossed a boundary. You're quick to open your mouth to blabber something about being sorry, but you don't get to say it.
Because his lips are on yours the second after.
It's not a heated kiss, like you would expect it. It's a slow one, full of emotions, just like he is. Longing, deep one, can be felt through his movements, as he'd want to remember the shape of your lips.
"'m gonna put her down," he starts, his voice a mere whisper, "then we'll talk. A'right?"
You just nod in response.
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leonfucker3000 · 14 days
Text
Gotcha
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Bounty Hunter/Cowboy!Leon S. Kennedy x outlaw!fem!reader
Warnings: smut, feelings (of regret) (and slight yearning), oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, fucking against metal bars. 16+ because I was you once just don’t be weird
Ummm I wrote this last year in, like, March? I posted and finished it December, though (yikes) with that being said I’m sorry if the writing is…I suppose questionable? Yeah, sure, questionable. On ao3 here if you prefer that site. Not proofread btw.
oh, right, reader’s outlaw name is ‘ranger’ but it’s mentioned once. I was inspired by Leon’s Arthur Morgan mod but you can imagine him in any outfit, all that’s mentioned is that he wears a leather hat (I think). cowboy Leon is the reason I keep on going, thanks.
tumblr is a scary, new place for me. Please be kind😱
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The sound of the horse's feet running in the desert sand fills the hollow night. Gunshots and gunpowder making Leon’s nostrils flare, the metallic smoke filling up his lungs uncomfortably.
Close. He’s so fucking close. 
You stop your horse and bolt for the abandoned  bank you robbed just a month prior and wait . It’s hot and cold, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin as you try to keep your breathing still. The weight of your revolver is the only thing that feels remotely natural, the only thing that reminds you that you have at least some control.
His horse blows and grunts as it comes to a halt, a cloud of sand threatening his vision until he bats it away. The swinging door of the bank creaks along with the wooden floorboards of each step he takes.
You can hear him grow closer, the spurs on his boots jingling—a warning, a taunt. He’s got you, and had it not been from how fucking tired you were, you would’ve kept going.
“There’s not much use in hidin’ anymore,” Leon’s gruff voice breaks the low whistling wind, “Think we both know the only way you’re getting outta here is in cuffs or in a rug dragged across the sand.”
You hold in a scoff, the bandana muffling your steadying breath. Hiding behind the wall, you hear his steps come and go, small curses falling from under his breath and muttering you can’t put together. 
After a moment of silence, you muster up the courage to peek around the corner. A mistake. 
“Gotcha.” His cowboy hat casts a dark shadow across his face, the dim moonlight barely making the whites of his eyes visible. His own revolver is pointed to your head, the reflecting metal almost blinding — another taunt to your capture. 
“Kennedy.” You speak through gritted teeth, sour and bitter as you say his name.
“Ranger.” A humorless chuckle escapes his lips, “Not one day goes by that I don’t get sick of hearin’ that name. Can’t even get a beer without a sad sap waiting to tell their story about encountering you.”
“Good to know I’m on your mind at least. Hadn’t seen you in sometime, thought you died.” You watch as his hand tightens around the grip of his gun, his index finger sliding towards the trigger. 
“I’m not gonna die before I catch you, or kill you. One or the other.” He rolls his eyes as he watches you point the gun to his leg, “Put that down before I blow your brains out. The sheriff’ll get mad at me for the mess.”
“I think he’d be happier if you killed me, really.”
“Maybe, but I think they’d rather kill you themselves, and slower.” A sigh leaves you as you drop your revolver to the floor, not bothering to put your hands up because, well, there’s no use for it. “Back up. Don’t need you gettin’ any ideas. Get in the vault.” 
The vault? He doesn’t give you time to protest, taking a step forward so his gun grazes your forehead, “Fuck, alright, I get it .” 
You back into the vault, the metal bars making it your makeshift jail. He closes the door shut, watching you through the spaces between the bars and giving you an annoying smug smirk, “Look at that . Behind bars is a natural look on you. Can’t believe it’s taken this long.”
Leon takes a walk around, finding the key and locking the ‘jail’. Convenient. “Y’wanna start by telling me why you’ve been doing this? They’re gonna get it outta you anyway, best to let it out now. A pretty face ain’t gonna getcha freedom.”
“Pretty?” You muse.
“Shut up.” He scoffs.
“I don’t think my reason would really make a difference.”
His eyebrows furrow, “Maybe not, but every outlaw has some kind of story to tell.”
You slump against the back wall of the vault, letting out a small groan as your hand runs your face. If you’re going to get locked up and eventually hung, you guess it wouldn’t hurt for at least one person to know the truth. He’s not…the best person but out of everyone else, maybe he is. “My family. Dead broke. Needed the money.” 
He stares at you for a moment before laughing, gripping one of the metal bars as he snickers, “you really expect me to believe that? If I wouldn’t let a bastard cheat me in poker, I’m not gonna have you cheat me now.” 
“‘M not cheating you for anything, I gotta family at home. Mouths to feed, debts to pay, shit to do.”
“That’s a real shitty thing, lying about your family like that.” He grumbles, looking at you like ‘lying’ was worse than all the money you’ve stolen. The lives you threatened.
This man’s priorities seriously needed to be straightened out. You pull down your bandana and toss it to the side as you get comfortable on the floor, the bank door’s small creaks making the night all the more eerie. 
When you look up, he’s still staring at you. His lips are curled into a slight snarl and, had it not been for the bars, he might’ve lunged at you.
Leon’s wondering what your game is, he knows what you do when you lie—how you look away from him and take a step back and your lip always twitches without fail—you’re not doing any of that. “Even if you did do it to keep your family afloat, what about the rest of the people you wronged?”
“What, the rich? They don’t give a damn about us, why should I give a damn about them?”
“I’m talkin’ about the public robberies. Like the train robbery down in Georgetown, or the bank in Laredo, those were all big jobs, you tellin’ me those were victimless crimes? Bullshit. There’s oughta be a casualty.”
“If there was a casualty, it wasn’t from me. I’ve never fired a gun at an innocent.”
He scorns, “but you’ll fire a gun at the people tryna protect the innocents.” 
“None of them are dead, are they? They’re at home with their families not needing to worry about eatin’.”
He feels conflicted, because fuck if you’re telling the truth then he feels like an asshole all those times he’s almost killed you. A family. You have children, a husband, maybe, unless he’s dead—is that why you’re doing this?—And he’s fought with you more than he can remember. He sniffles, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and shaking his head, “how old are your kids?”
It was your turn to chuckle, “i don’t have kids. Well, sort of, if you include takin’ care of my siblings.”
Guess he got it wrong. He doesn’t know if he feels better or worse, his stomach churns at the thought of your younger siblings waiting for you to come home just to never return. Never to know if you died or ran away. No, he’s sure they’d figure out you died, if you were doing this for them, why would you leave them? God he needs a drink. “You don’t gotta momma or daddy or what?” 
“My momma’s sick. Daddy’s gone.” You shrug as if it’s nothing, maybe it is nothing to you but it’s everything to him. He hates that he’s so easily swayed. You being fine with this should tell him this is a lie but— 
But what? He doesn’t know. You’re a criminal that has added unnecessary stress to the public, even have other outlaws mad at you for taking their money. It’s simple as to what he needs to do.
“Doesn’t matter, I’m sure after your first three robberies you woulda had enough money to feed a church for the next 5 years. Didn’t need all of that, that’s just fucking greed.”
“I don’t keep all of it. I give it to people like me. Too many families have lost their kids just because they couldn’t feed ‘em for a week. Bet they don’t tell you that, though, do they?” 
He knows better. He knows that he knows better. This is a lie, he’s the law, he needs to uphold the law, no exceptions. No hesitation. “So, what? You’re a modern day Robin Hood?”
“If I say yes will you shut the fuck up?” 
“If you tell me the truth I will.” 
“Mother fucker— I am. You have a gun, have me in a fucking vault, I’m unarmed say for my knife, but I’ll give it to you if it’ll shut you up. what do I have to gain from this shit? You’ve caught up people for way less, I don’t have shit up my sleeve to leave.”
A moment passes, and suddenly? He hates himself.
“God damnit.” He curses under his breath, turning his body away as he groans. He can still hear the horses outside, can hear the wind chiming, playing a small song. You keep quiet, watching him pace back and forth once before pinching the bridge of his nose. “‘M gonna fuckin’ regret this.” He mumbled to himself, putting in the key and swinging the metal door open. 
He shifts to the side, motioning with his head, “Go. Get. Leave.”
“What’re you doing, Kennedy?”
His lips press into a fine line as he exhales through his nose, “What kinda man would I be if I took you away from them when I had the chance to save you?” He sighs, “They need you. God knows no one else will give a damn.”
You hesitate, you don’t know why—you should’ve ran as soon as the key went in the damn hole. You grab your bandana you threw off earlier, wrapping it around your neck with a curt nod. “Thank you.”
He doesn’t meet your gaze, a small frown on his face before he speaks, “yeah, yeah, just turn your ass around before I find a reason to lock you up again.”
You tip your hat to him, walking out of the vault. Your spurs are the one to jingle this time. 
“ ‘sides, I always did like the back of you.” 
You planned to keep going. You really fucking did.  
When you turned around, your bodies were only two feet away. You swore you walked further from him but honestly, you couldn’t tell anymore. “Those are dangerous words you’re playing with.”
His back straightens and he peers down at you, “Are they?”
“You’re a confusing man, Kennedy.”
“I don’t remember telling you I was simple.”
You tut, “Haven’t you made enough mistakes already?”
He has, he knows it. The first damn mistake he’s made was making it a point to try and capture you. A year and 4 months he’s spent on this–on you. But, really, what bad would one last mistake do? He’s already made so many, it’ll just be another bullet to his chamber. He takes a step closer, chests nearly touching as his hands twitch to grab you, feel you without the mission of needing to hurt you and take you in. “I’d say not enough.”
All those times during his chase he could’ve gotten close, on top of you, felt your breath against his as you cornered one another. He hasn't, and he’s tired of letting it sit at bay. Learning a new side of you made him crazy. Crazier. 
God is he an idiot.
Your breaths fill the tense atmosphere as he takes another small step closer, was it always so hot in here? 
“We shouldn’t.”
“Who says?”
“ Everyone .” You stay like this for what seems like an eternity until Leon pulls you in by the back of your neck, his free hand moving to your waist as his lips crush against yours in a hasty kiss. He groans against your mouth and your fist coils the fabric of his shirt. Your hats tipped one another’s off and fell to the floor.
After a few seconds, he is the one to pull away from you. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him in confusion, he looks at you like it was the answer. He clears his throat and takes a step back, wiping away your kiss and he looks away, trying to deny himself of what he wants. 
Who he wants so, so badly. 
He struggles to speak, to move, to think. He watches you and you watch him, both of your breaths at a skewed pace. 
“Make a mistake with me.” He whispers, he looks different. You can finally see his face, moonlight highlighting his sharp features. Never noticed how handsomely-pretty he was before. 
God, fuck it.
You step forward this time, pulling him in by the collar of his button up and pressing your lips against his. He licks the seam of your lips and you part them, teeth clacking and tongues entwining as he grabs the wide of your hips and pushes you against the metal bars. Ouch. 
He pulls away from you with a sigh, looking offended at the fact that he even had to leave the plush of your lips. His hand leaves you to unbuckle your belt with fervor and slip his hand inside your pants and panties. 
His fingers slip between your wet folds and he dips his head down to kiss your neck. Small moans escape you as he slowly rubs your clit, feeling your wet slick coat his fingers. “All those pretty sounds for me? I think I’m flattered.” 
You groan, “of course you’re a bitch even when doing this.”
“I take my words back, then.” He rolls his eyes and opts to bite down on your shoulder, your nails dig into his back through the fabric of his shirt and he shudders when you bite him back. “fuck, ‘s not enough. Gotta taste you.” 
He drops to his knees and fumbles with your belt until it’s off and shoves your pants down, his breath stuttering when he sees the soaked fabric. He drags them off you and pulls one of your legs over his shoulder. You hold onto the bars for balance, “Jesus Christ, wait . Almost made me fucking fall—“
You’re cut off when he spreads your lips and licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moan, fingers grabbing a fistful of his hair and his eyes fluttered shut. He sighs at the taste of you, “fuckin’ delicious, can’t believe I didn’t do this shit sooner.” His voice, almost a groan, wavered before pushing his face back between your legs. 
His tongue lapped at your entrance and his nose bumped up against your swollen clit. His fingers dimple the fat of your thigh and his cock twitches the louder your sounds get. He curled his tongue and pressed it deeper, despite the proximity, he needed to get closer somehow. 
Trying to close your legs doesn’t work, smushing your thighs against his face only adds fuel to the fire.
You nearly sob when he pushed a finger inside your cunt, thrusting against your g-spot with a quick, steady rhythm. “ Leon , shit, shit , don’t you fucking stop. “ He slips in another finger, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes and a shit eating grin.
First time you’ve said his name, not kennedy or bastard or asshole – his name . And fuck, does it sound pretty coming out of you like that, how that alone makes his cock strain against his zipper. 
Filthy squelches and moans flood the empty bank while Leon eats your pussy like a starved man. His own moans escaping as you buck your hips against his face. You pull on his hair roughly and you swear you hear him whine
“Gotta get you nice ‘n wet f’me,” He muttered against your pussy and his eyes fluttered as he tried to keep open to watch you. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks hard — a cry of his name and you’re so fucking close to coming on his face, panting and feeling uncomfortably hot. 
“Too much—“ you gasp, “Oh shit, fuck, it’s too much.” You choke, uneven moans escaping you as you finally come. You expect him to pull away but he doesn’t falter. “Mnh, wait, fuck, get off, get off . ” You beg breathlessly.
Leon groaned again and pressed closer, “need it, give it to me, honey. Gonna make you feel good, just don’t make me fucking stop.” He pleaded, feeling dizzy as he got high off your taste. You attempt to push his head and mouth away but your attempts are in vain. 
You let out yet another choked sob when he forces another orgasm out of you, reluctantly, he pulled away, licking his lips clean and wiping the rest with the back of his hand. His free hand rubbed your thigh to try and soothe you, asshole turned caring in a matter of seconds. “Sorry.” He murmurs, “couldn’t help myself.”
Your breaths are uneven pants as you look down at him on his knees still. “ Fuck me , Kennedy apologizing? I’m speechless.”
“Oh, we’re back to Kennedy?” 
He gets off his knees while yours quiver, “It was a mistake. A fluke.”
A smirk plays on his lips, “yeah, sure. We’ll see.” He turns you around and wraps his arm around your hips and pulls them against his own, pushing you forward slightly so you’re bent over, “grab the bars.” And you do.
You can feel the outline of his cock press against you, “so fucking ready, didn’t waste a goddamn second—y’sure that was a fluke? Getting my pants all dirty, honey.” You feel embarrassed, but not for long when you hear his belt buckle clink and the sound of fabric rustling – heart racing and pussy throbbing as to what’s happening. You turn your head and see him spit and runs his hand over his cock to get it wet. He smirks when he catches you, you shake your head and look forward again. “Gotta be sweet to me or I’ll make you work for it.”
“God, kennedy–” You gasp when he slides the head between your folds and nudges it at your entrance. 
“Leon.” he corrects, pushing the tip inside you, “C’mon baby, I know you can say it.” he grabs your hips to keep you from pushing back onto him. Fucker . 
“ Leon.”  
“Atta girl.”
He snaps his hips into you, body shuddering and your mouth opens with a sharp gasp and choked back moan. His grip on your hips tighten when he pulls out and pushes back inside to the hilt. His breathing is nothing but grunts, groans, and pants, you’re not much different – if anything else, you’re worse. “Can’t– fuck –handle it? Can rob every fucking bank but you can’t take some dick.”The way he fucks you is merciless, he wants you to feel good but also wants to punish you for everything you’ve done. Everything you’ve done to him. 
He dips his hand lower to smack your ass, “Answer me. Had a lot to say just minutes ago.” 
“Sh-shit, I can take it,” you shudder, “I can take it–” Your skin is wet with sweat and it gets harder to hold onto the bars, each thrust making you lose a bit more of yourself. Fuck him and fuck this but holy shit do you suddenly not regret everything you’ve ever done.
You’re mewling beneath him, happily and prettily so. “Pussy’s so tight, just needed a good dicking down.” he moans, “That all it took to get you to – fuck that’s good – listen?” he moves one of his hands from your hip to your clit, stimulating it as he fucks you a little harder, “Say my name, God, I need it.” he groans.
“Leon, Leon, Leon– ” You moan loudly, you don’t know when the sheriff is coming, but if he’s close you’re sure he can hear you easily. Your vision blurs when he touches you and your legs tremble with each spot his cock hits. 
“Don’t worry, I’ve gotcha, not lettin’ you go.” Leon’s an idiot, but if his mistakes will make him feel this good again, he’ll keep making them. His composure starts to dwindle when sweat beads his forehead and you start squeezing him like a vice. Made for him, he thinks. “ Take it , fuck yourself onto me honey, atta girl.” his breath stutters. 
Who are you to deny him – you do as you’re told and he moans. His hand goes up to your neck and pulls your back against his chest. Within seconds, you come around him with his name on your tongue and a scream. He bites down on your shoulder with a desperate groan before he pulls out and streams of hot come hit your ass.
He holds onto you like you’re his life line, like he’ll fall if he lets you go (he will). You two stay like that for a good 20 seconds before he lets go of you and takes a couple of steps back. He turns away from you and you can hear him zip up his pants and belt clunk when he fixes himself. You do the same, a little slower, both out of lack of energy and embarrassment.
Leon also feels embarrassed. This is the part where he’d usually get whoever he was sleeping with a glass of water, a quick bath, and ask if they’d rather go home tonight or he takes them home tomorrow. He can’t do either of that, and he’s supposed to hate you and definitely not fuck you or let you go.
He swallows, “You need to get going. He’ll be here soon and he won’t hesitate to shoot if he sees you run.”
“Right.” you whisper, taking a deep breath to steady yourself as you bend down to pick up your hat. You’re both in a daze, he looks at you, all guilty and nervous. His hair is wet with sweat and his cheeks are flushed, had it been anyone else you would’ve pushed his hair back to get a better look at him. But he’s not anyone else, and this was all a mistake . “Gonna stop coming after me now?” 
A weak smile tugs his lips, “In both ways, no. Can’t promise anything.”
You fight back a laugh but return his smile, turning away so he can’t see it. He picks up his hat next and watches as you walk away from him to the front of the bank. Like a lost puppy, he follows. “Need help getting up?” he motions to your horse.
“I’ll be fine, Kennedy. You need to worry about yourself rather than me.”
“Like I said, can’t promise anything.” 
You hop on your horse, ready to put all that you did with him in a box and stuffed away.
“Stay safe. Be seeing you.” he whispers.
You don’t trust yourself to speak so you nod, not looking back as your horse takes you away.
You’re a good mile out when Leon hears a horse’s footsteps behind him, then heavy human ones. “Where is she?” 
“I told you to follow me quick, Chris. She’s gone. Just thought I’d give you the message personally so you didn’t have to wait here alone.” 
Chris sighs and looks at Leon with nothing but hate. Ironic. “It’s not hard to do your damn job.”
“Can say the same about you – so, drinks? Need one after today.” 
Chris looks Leon up and down, eyebrows furrowed when he does so. “When did you change your hat?”
He blinks, suddenly realizing his is a little tighter.
Miles out, you realize yours is a little looser.
You suppose you two will be seeing another again after all. When you do, you'll finally be ready.
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stuckinapril · 3 months
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what red flags should i look for in a man?
I actually feel like I’m a good person to ask this question, not bc I’ve had a long healthy relationship or anything, but bc I’ve humored walking red flags way more than I should’ve lmao. Btw this list doesn’t go for just men. It can apply to man, woman, or any human being across the board. Ok so:
When someone tells you they’re not ready for a relationship, BELIEVE THEM. Idc what the reason is. Idc if it’s bc they aren’t that into you or if they have shit going on. They just told u straight up. Appreciate that and just leave. Please. For me.
Piggybacking off that point—listen to people when they tell you who they are in general!!! This was a major 2023 lesson for me. People self-report all the time, whether it be friends or romantic interests. Most people are legitimately incapable of hiding who they really are. Pay attention. Do not ignore the signs, however small. I could’ve saved myself so much trouble if I didn’t just pretend Not to See.
Not consoling you when you need it because “they’re not good with emotions.” This is just an excuse for being lazy. They just don’t wanna put the work into being there for you properly—especially if you’ve already gone through the trouble of communicating this to them.
People who talk the talk but don’t walk the walk. Actions over words. Actions over words always.
Fuck overextended talking stages. If you wanna know more about me, let’s plan something in person. Otherwise you run the risk of getting attached to someone who’s possibly nothing like how they actually are in front of you.
If you’re having to “communicate” extensively with a person like a month in, as in there are lots of miscommunications and misunderstandings and things you don’t like about them or they don’t like about you, I’d probably just drop it. I learned this the hard way last year after burning through a lot of friendships where I found that we didn’t know each other that long at all, but there was already a plethora of problems to work through. This can apply to relationships just as well. If you’re asking a person to change this early in, or they’re asking you to change this early in, it’s probably just not a match.
Mostly talking about themselves. Not asking you anything about yourself in return. Ew.
It takes months to actually know a person’s true nature. That’s typically around the time people start showing their true colors. Ik a lot of people choose to commit like a month in, so just take that as u will.
Fucking competing with you. People who’re incapable of just being happy for other people without inserting themselves into it are insufferable. Immediate next.
This isn’t conscious behavior, and all of us are guilty of it, but people have an innate habit of taking advantage of your fantasies. If they know you’re desperate for their attention, they’ll get lazy (even if they don’t realize it). If they know they’re the object of your desire, they will leverage that to get your benefits without putting in the work. This is like playing cards and immediately showing someone your hand. Do not do that. This isn’t “playing hard to get”—it’s just guarding yourself until you’re sure you can trust the other person.
Not always the case, but a lot of times the way someone’s last relationship ended is pretty telling for how yours will go. ESPECIALLY if they’re not at all remorseful about how the last one went down, lol. You’re not the exception.
People are busy and taking a while to respond is O.K., but if it’s a continuous pattern of them taking forever to reply, it’s probably just a matter of priorities (and you’re not theirs). Sorry.
Pls take the ego out of the talking stage and recognize that love bombing is not flattering. I’ve reprogrammed my brain to where any time someone is doing way too much like three seconds in, I get the ick. I’ve legit dropped guys over this. It’s such a red flag to me. They either don’t have a life, or just are a natural love bomber (who will overwhelm you w compliments and attention only to fizzle out just as quickly), or they know exactly what they’re doing and they’re playing to your ego. Whichever it is, ick. Big ick.
The way they talk about other people is a major tell. This goes for friends and romantic interests. I think a bit of gossip will always be unavoidable, but if someone is liberally trash-talking other people—ESPECIALLY EX-FRIENDS OR EX-PARTNERS—you could literally be next. Anyone who thrives off badmouthing other people / hating on others / just generally not giving others grace doesn’t have exceptions. You’re their focus for now. It could just as easily be you tomorrow.
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adams-angels · 2 months
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Adam sfw/nsfw hcs? I love your work! Thanks!!
💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖
SFW
I'm gonna start off strong by saying socks and sandals. Thinks it's great.
Will stop listening when he's losing an argument. Stutters and minces up his words if he gets flustered or too aggravated.
Lute is his best friend
Says he has tons on friend but in reality lute is his only friend
This man thinks he's higher up in the food chain than he actually is. Which then leads to weak apologies from him
Doesn't go anywhere without his mask. Really big believer in that he doesn't like showing his face because both his wife's left him
Still absolutely bitter about that btw
Has an unhealthy coping mechanism when it comes to jealously.
For example, your an angel and some newbie starts talking with you and there's nothing really in it but he opens a portal to hell when your not looking and literally kicks the guy through it before closing the portal.
Or if your a sinner and you're telling him about someone who helped you the other day he will HUNT THEM DOWN next extermination day... If he can wait that long.
Likes getting you lil gifts, key chains, magnets, pins. He'll see a little thing and think that's perfect and wont hesitate buying it for you.
He won't give it to you though. He'll leave it somewhere obvious in his apartment for you to notice and go "oh, that's cute." For him to shrug and say "it's okay. You want it?" It took a while before you actually started accepting gifts this way
In public he will get you the biggest things. Giant teddy bear. New TV. A unicorn. But that's just to show everyone that he spoils you. That no one can treat you as well as him.
Loves lazy days
Also loves it when you preen his wings
Was the kinda guy that didn't have any kind of skin care until he met you and now you're both chilling with facemasks on.
Has panic attacks when he thinks you're going to leave him
When he's not wearing his mask he will not smile. It's really difficult to get him to smile or laugh when he's not wearing a mask.
But he's got the most beautiful smile
You managed you get him to laugh because you fell. What? He's still an asshole.
You couldn't be mad at him. He sounded so happy.
Has dumb pet names for everyone he's close to. Some are cute. Some are absolutely vulger. "Sweetness." "Babe." "Cutie" "cockwarmer." "Adam's dumpster." "Precious."
He's insecure AF baby
Loves hearing you say you love him
Will only tell you he loves you in private.
Would take a very special case for him to say it in public
If you get in a serious argument with him he'll run away in anger. He'll then come back after an hour or so begging you not to leave.
Sorry I really love pathetic Adam. fight me.
Smut below the cut! Minors dni
NSFW
Ik everyone says it's great at sex but I don't think he would be 🤷🏻‍♀️ not at the beginning anyway
I think he's a selfish lover and it takes someone he really cares about to make any changes
Would absolutely finish inside you then fall asleep soz babes
His cock is good tho. Likes it's a biggen. Length and width.
It was probably made to fit perfectly so
At least that's what he says
He won't believe it if you dont orgasm the first time you have sex with him. Everyone else has! Why wouldn't you?!
Well, Adam, they lied, sweetie.
Loves getting his cock sucked.
Asks for it constantly
If he gets in an argument with you he'll probably say "I'm sorry, it's just been so long since I got head."
He loves eating you out. Watching you squirm while his tongue is inside you really gets him going.
Likes you have you sat on his face so he can hold you down
He cried the first time he had sex with you after realising he loves you
Will beg to be loved when he's close to finishing. "Tell me you love me!"
Will get embarrassed after the fact
He was adamant he didn't like you. That you were just hot. But one day found himself jerking to the thought of you and that post nut clarity hit like a freight train.
Loves being praised ofc
Breeding kink. I mean come on. He was made to populate the earth. It was literally his job.
Loves rough sex, being in charge.
Will get possessive during sex
If he's having a bad day he'll be a lot more desperate and a hell of a lot more possessive
"mine" is his favourite word.
~⁠♡✧⁠。 I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! 。✧⁠♡~⁠
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astermath · 10 months
Note
Hii 🤭 can I request a Dave Lizewski x reader fluffy smut? Maybe something like dave and the reader are studying for a test but he gets distracted or something
omg yes ofc!! I haven't written for dave in a bit but he's still one of my main pookies so YES, YES I WILL ANON. so sorry this took so long btw!!
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pairing: dave lizewski x fem!reader
summary: your boyfriend is too distracted during your study session, so you decide to help him out.
word count: 1.5K
tags: dave and reader are in college, protected sex, established relationship, kind of sub dave? a little proofread, minors dni! normal font below!
let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further dave lizewski related content!
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Dave tutoring you was a regular part of your weekly routine. Not only was he a great boyfriend, but he was also an expert at anything math related. Which came in handy for you, because despite being a major in social studies, your course required you to take a class in statistics. So, with exams coming up, the two of you had been spending more and more time preparing together.
The sound of pens clicking and papers being shuffled around filled the room along with your groans. You were desperately trying to find the formula key you’d written down earlier, that had now conveniently disappeared.
Dave watched you, eyes peeking above his glasses as he bit his bottom lip. He wouldn’t tell you, he was pretty sure you’d gotten even more frustrated, but you looked so cute when you were agitated. Not that he liked having you in that mood, not at all. But it was just— the pout of your soft lips, the scrunch of your cute nose, the little huff you’d make when things didn’t go your way… Boy, he was obsessed with you.
"But I swear I-- are you even listening to me?"
Dave snaps out of his daydreaming when you snap your fingers in front of his face, a blush creeping up his face. "I-I was, I promise!"
You raised an eyebrow. "Sure you were." You leaned back into your chair, crossing your legs. "Aren't you supposed to be helping me? I'm gonna be so mad if I have to retake this course."
He gulps, the last thing he wanted was for you to waste your precious time on doing this all again. Especially because that meant you'd have less time for him as well.
"I know, I'm sorry, it's just... I'm so--"
"Distracted?" you interrupt his stammering. To Dave's surprise, you're no longer looking all that frustrated. Your frown is replaced by a cheeky grin, one he knows all too well.
“N-No, I mean— yeah, a little, but it’s not that I don’t wanna help—“ he starts rambling, his words dying off when he hears you giggle. "Wh--What?"
"You're so cute, Dave," you got up, closing the distance so that you were now standing in between his legs, "but I really can't have you being all distracted while we're supposed to study."
He suddenly felt a lot guiltier about his staring. He promised to help you and here he was gawking at how pretty you were, getting all kinds of thoughts. He felt like a pervert.
"I'm sorry, you're right, I'm just getting in the wa-- what are you doing?"
You took his hands and pulled him off the chair, guiding him over to the bed and giving him a push so he landed with his back flat onto the mattress. He looked a little disheveled, curls all messy and his glasses a little crooked. God, you could just eat him up.
"I can't have you being distracted, so," you took your shirt off in one swift motion, "let's fix that."
He watched you with wide blue eyes, face flushed pink with his mouth hanging open. You were no stranger to taking the upper hand with him, but he hadn't expected your study session to get steamy so quickly.
That's how you ended up on top of him, hips grinding down on him through his boxers and your panties. He swore he was about to cum just from you rubbing yourself over him, it took everything in him not to give into that feeling.
"Is this what you were thinking about, baby?" Your voice is dripping with honey. There's something teasing, almost mocking in it. You were well aware of how horny your boyfriend gets, the dirty thoughts he gets, even from before the two of you were a thing. But he never just admits them, no, he's a sweetheart like that.
He wants to answer, so bad, but with every movement of your hips a whimper spills from his lips, whether he wants it to or not. He's not too sure what to do with his hands, keeping them loosely on your thighs, not guiding, simply touching. Almost to ground himself a little.
"Hm, or maybe... You were thinking about this?" You reach down to move your panties to the side, and he takes the hint to start shoving his boxers down, just low enough to free his cock. You feel it tap against your ass as it finally springs free, already dripping with precum.
The vulgar sound of your juices spreading over his cock drives him mad. He barely gets the time to roll a condom on before your rubbing his head through your folds again, his hands grabbing the fat of your thighs a little harder. He's whining softly, silently pleading for you to let him fuck you already.
"What's that baby?" you reach out and grab his jaw, forcing him to look at you. "Use your words hun, I'm not a mind reader."
He just stares at you for a moment, cock twitching at your commanding words. He swallows, struggling to get anything out like the horny mess he is.
"I-I want you to--"
"Speak up."
"I want to be inside you," His voice cracks a little when he repeats himself, louder this time, "Please." he adds.
You smile, a thumb rubbing gently across his cheek. Poor boy looked like he was about to cry if he didn't get to fuck you, cock painfully aching with a need for you, and you alone.
"Well," you lined him up with your entrance, "only because you asked so nicely."
You took him inside with one swift movement of your hips, dropping down onto his lap with an audible clap of skin against skin. You moaned in unison, eyes finding each other, always wanting to watch the other's face when you finally connected like this again.
You wasted no time, already moving your hips again, the sensation of his cock dragging over your slicked walls sending you into a state of euphoria already. Dave's a big guy, and that counts for every other part of him too. You didn't care if stretch was a little painful, or that it took you a while to get used to the size of him at first, you loved it.
"B-Baby, please-- oh my god, you feel s'good, holy shit..." He blabbered on, his words slurring over the sounds of his moans. You grinned, he was already so pussy drunk, it was adorable.
You leaned over, hand splayed over his toned chest, nails dragging over his fair skin and leaving red trails in their wake. He looked so pretty, all marked up, letting everybody know that he was yours. Not that they didn't know already, he loved letting them know, always mentioning his pretty girlfriend whenever he could.
Your thighs started burning a little from the exertion, but you couldn't stop, not when you felt your orgasm slowly approaching. You started moving faster, bouncing on his cock, grin faltering as your expression grew more desperate.
"Dave, I-- fuck!" you cried out when he shifted his hips, the head of his cock hitting a particular spot inside you that made you see stars. "Keep doing that, holy shit, m'gonna cum baby..."
He took your command, as always, following your rhythm with his own movements. His thrusts become more erratic and sloppy by the second, letting you know he was getting close himself. Not that the continuous repeating of your name wasn't already alerting you of that.
"J-Just like that baby, just like that," your orgasm caught up to you soon, walls fluttering around him as you tilted your head back and moaned his name. The two of you were always loud, but now you were sure the whole floor heard you.
He followed right after, thrusting up into you and filling the condom with his hot cum. Your body went limp for a moment, collapsing on top of him with your full weight. His strong arms enveloped you, your face tucked into the crook of his neck, panting, trying to catch your breath.
After a moment to come down from the high of your orgasms, you moved your head to press soft kisses to his cheek. He sighed dreamily, an adorable boyish smile appearing on his face. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have you. Sometimes, it just felt like a dream. Luckily you were there to kiss him back to reality.
"D'you wanna go back to studying?" he asked softly, his hand tracing gently over your spine.
You whined, pressing a few kisses to his lips. "Hm... No..."
"But," kiss, "what about," kiss, "the exam?"
"Fuck the exam." You moved your head back to rest on his shoulder.
He doesn't reply, instead smiling to himself. Just being glad he's not the only one distracted now.
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