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coryosbaby · 4 months

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i’d do ANYTHING for a part 2 of life lessons

Teacher

synopsis: Coryo oversteps some boundaries with himself (and doesn’t regret it).

♡ content warning . Threesome, more Sejanus x coryo in this? (the genderfluid in me screaming rn) + some sexuality questioning and inner homophobia, handjobs, praise and degradation, cum eating . Dom! Sejanus, switch! Reader, sub! Coryo <3

He didn’t think it would happen again.

Not in a million years. Not after that one night, when him and Sejanus had let go with you watching. When Sejanus had punished him for taking your orgasm from him. When they touched each other. He thought their friendship was ruined.

Oh boy, was he wrong.

Sejanus has him sprawled out on your bed now, the pink sheets that made Coryo let out a snort before the other boy had scolded him silky and soft. Coryo’s cock lays against his stomach, red and aroused to its fullest capacity. You’re on your stomach, your cheek nuzzling Coryo’s thigh, leaving little kisses on the meaty skin there. You’ve grown fond of him, this handsome blonde boy, and you know Sejanus’ adoration has only increased since that one night.

And that’s why Coryo has allowed him to touch him again.

It’s not as intimate or close as it was that one night. No— this is easier, simpler. Coryo feels less pain slicing through his stomach when Sejanus’ face isn’t towering over his own. When it isn’t a fight— a rough, desperate battle of tongue on tongue and skin on skin. When he’s not seeing a boy above him.

He has no problem with men who like other men. He finds it stupid to worry about such a dumb, small thing, to be in other people’s business like that. But those words from his peers, the hatred towards such people, it makes his gut twist with guilt.

Guilt because he likes men. Guilt because he likes Sejanus.

He likes you, too. At least sexually. Maybe a little romantically too, but he doesn’t know how comfortable Sejanus would be knowing that, so he keeps his mouth shut about his feelings. About it all.

He shakes the thoughts out of his head. There’s no reason to think these things right now, not when Sejanus’ fingers are wrapping around his cock and tugging, something he’s oddly good at and Coryo suspects he’s probably done this before. His precum drips over the other boy’s fist, wet and warm and perfect. You keep giving Coryo these teasing little eyes, challenging him to do something, anything to test your limits, to test Sejanus’, and you know that once Coryo is challenged that he’ll try his hardest to win.

He tries to move away from Sejanus’ hand. He doesn’t want to. It takes all his willpower to pull his hips away. But he does it, and he does it because he wants Sejanus to put him in his place and not because he wants to stop. Sejanus knows this, because if he really wanted to stop he would use the safeword. He grunts, his big arm grabbing onto Coryo’s lean body.

“Stop it,” he growls, burying his chin in the boy’s golden curls. “Don’t be a brat.”

Coryo smirks, his nails digging into the other boys equally bare thighs.

“Or what, Sejanus? It’s not like you have any power, anyway. She’s wanting to suck my cock.”

Oh, he’s done it now. Mentioning you in his little tantrum, claiming some kind of territory over you. Sejanus hand goes up around the boy’s neck, the kind of grip that Coryo didn’t expect from him. His teeth scrape against his neck and his hand goes back down to his cock.

Only this time, he slaps him. Hard.

Coryo grits his teeth. A groan escapes him, and his cock reddens under Sejanus’ hand.

“What did I tell you?” The brunette warns him.

“Mmm…” Coryo lets out a sultry little whine, his hips humping up into the open air with precision. “I’m sorry.”

He says it with no real meaning, a faux tone in his voice. Sejanus scoffs, and his hand wraps around him again. You watch the whole scene with an amused look.

“You’re gonna be,” Sejanus says, and his eyes direct to you. “Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

You obey, all sweet and innocent. Sejanus’ hand furiously rubs over Coryo’s cock, and the boy gasps, his hips lifting up as he groans throatily. You think he looks gorgeous, abs pulled taught, wet cock threatening to squirt into your open, awaiting mouth. Sejanus’ hardness rubs against the boy’s back as he watches the scene, his best friend and his girl getting each other all hot and bothered. Coryo’s face is contorted in intense pleasure, and he knows he’s close. Can feel it in the way his balls draw up tight, in the way his ears begin to ring from the force of his upcoming orgasm.

When he cums inside your mouth, your tongue laps him up greedily. You’re a slut for cum, all salty and creamy and thick, and you can’t wait to get Sejanus’, too. Coryo pushes your head forward, demands you lap up the rest of it. Sejanus lets him. You clean his cock up in no time.

But Sejanus gives you a look. A look that tells you not to stop. You know your boyfriend well, after all, and you can read practically any expression he makes.

So you don’t stop sucking him. Coryo tries to move your hand off, tries to get you to stop, “‘s too much,” he says in that whimpering tone. But Sejanus grabs his fingers and holds them down so he can’t take you off of him. He cries at the overstimulation, literal tears flooding his blushing cheeks, and Sejanus kisses his neck.

“It’s okay, Coryo,” he says softly. “Gonna cum again, yeah? Gonna cum for us?”

And how can he resist that?

So with a mix of pleasure and pain coursing through his cock, he makes himself let out weak spurts of cum onto your tongue again. But your mouth doesn’t stop— again. And no, no, it’s too much, it hurts, but how can Coryo resist?

So he sits back, lets Sejanus move down to play with that space behind his cock, and submits.

#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆#Coriolanus snow x reader #Sejanus plinth x reader #Coriolanus snow x reader x Sejanus Plinth #Coriolanus snow smut #Sejanus plinth smut #Coriolanus snow x Sejanus plinth #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic #thg #thg fanfic #the hunger games #hunger games #hunger games fanfic #Tom blyth

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jaegersdevil · 6 months

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skirt — satoru gojo

cw: reader wears a skirt, best friend gojo, everybody's in their early twenties (pretending nobody died or went astray, so suguru + haibara are here!!))

"When are the boys getting here?" Utahime asks, smoothing out one of the picnic blankets on the sand.

Shoko throws you a look, one you hate, and you check your phone. Your messages with Satoru are a mix of flirting and faux hatred shared between best friends. "5 minutes."

"Okay," Utahime mumbles, standing on the blanket. "I'll go get the extra snacks from the car."

And then she's gone, walking up the sand. The night is quiet, the only sound being the crackling of the bonfire a few feet down the beach.

"You know he's gonna freak out, right?"

You jump at the deadpan words of Shoko, and you turn toward her. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Your friend rolls her eyes and gestures to your outfit. "You know exactly what I'm saying. Gojo's gonna lose it."

With hot cheeks, you look down at your mini skirt. I mean, yeah, it's rare for you to wear such an item of clothing in the Jujutsu world, but you didn't think of it as such a big deal (you did).

Shrugging smugly, you place your drink in the cupholder of the camp chair. "Not like I planned to wear this since we made these plans."

But Shoko catches the smirk on your face and laughs. "Yeah, okay."

"Hey!" Haibara yells from the carpark. You and Shoko turn to see the boys making their way down the sand, Utamine in between Suguru and Nanami with bags of chips in her arms.

"Hide me," You giggle, grabbing Shoko by the shoulders to force her in front of you.

"You're joking," She whispers, rolling her eyes.

"Can you believe the nerve of these guys?" Utahime grumbles. "They had the great idea to get fast food instead of eating our prepared food!"

Shoko moves to lecture Suguru, who's holding a large paper cup in his hand, and soon rips into the other two. Satoru, however, pays no mind to her ranting.

As soon as his eyes land on you, he's looking at the sky and cursing under his breath. The glow of the bonfire on his face makes his hair orange, which makes you smile while you give him a twirl.

His strides are long as he stalks toward you, hands full of takeout. Your palms rest on his cheeks, and he refuses to look down, his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose and gaze on your lips pulled into a smile.

“Can I just kiss you right here?”

You throw your head back in laughter. "No!"

Satoru groans and looks down at your legs where the skirt ends. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

“Good. Might save Shoko from a heart attack.”

“When you two are done, we'd love to start eating,” Nanami calls, eyes narrowed at you.

"Hold on, Negative Nancy," Satoru chirped. "I'm admiring the love of my life."

Shoko scoffs and groans. "Make her your girlfriend before you start yapping."

Satoru shrugs one shoulder, hands hovering at your sides. You roll your lips between your teeth, legs shaky and heart pounding.

"Okay! I'm hungry, I'm eating," Suguru says, the rustling of paper bags following his sentence.

At the sound, the rest of the group start unpacking their dinner, choosing to ignore you.

Satoru sighs, moving his takeout bag to a spare finger on the hand holding his cup.

"Come on," He whispers, his hand low on your back. "Sit with me. I wanna get a better look at you."

#satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #best friend satoru #— ann writes!

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libertyybellls · 4 months

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KNEW THE GAME & PLAYED IT ?

pairing; finnick odair x f!reader

summary; finnick has to let you go to save you- he can’t simply see you off if he still has his teeth sunk in- he has to make you hate him.

contains; ANGST, self hatred, insults, mean!finnick, manipulation, alcohol consumption, mentions of forced prostitution

a/n: this might be like a ballpark idea because in retrospect i don’t see finnick being rude but honestly as a last resort, i think he’d be able to suck it up and go for the throat… but that’s just me thinking w my dick…

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

all he needed was the right moment, the right moment where he’d be just barely drunk and in the capitol- waiting for his capitol facade to fall right into place, for his mask to be put on and become self assured, confident, charming, arrogant.

he loved you to the point of no return, he loved you so badly that he thought encasing himself around you would be able to yield the harsh bullets the capitol shot your way- his plans went awry when you had been reaped for the 70th hunger games.

it was only after panick attacks, after sitting infront of his screen- watching you kill, starve and scream, did he realize that if you came out of this- the only way he’d be able to protect you would be to have nothing to do with you.

finnick thought he was a plague, he held himself responsible for his parents death, for not being able to help mags out enough, for not being able to save his own tributes. he was a plague and it was sickening- he wouldn’t let himself hurt you any longer.

he’d held you after you won your games, showered you, comforted you at night, talked you through the nightmares-even when he had his own demons tormenting every waking moment of his life.

but once your victory tour had ended, he couldn’t quite let you go- it seemed you couldn’t either. he’d isolate himself, keeping himself locked away in the victor’s village. he feared if he even went outside his home, his feet would lead him right back to your doorstep, like a puppy.

but you would barge in, you’d cry to eachother, hold eachother, make up, tell eachother you’d never leave, that you can’t be apart from one another.

and that part wasn’t a lie, he couldn’t breath without your familiar scent suffocating him, he couldn’t sleep if you weren’t wrapped around him, he couldn’t eat if he wasn’t sitting across from you. but he’d give up the oxygen, the food, the sleep, just so you would be safe. he’d do it any day if you asked him.

so here you were, at a capitol party- one of many you required to go to. finnick had avoided you all night, staying put at the side of the older woman who’d bought his nineteen year old self for the night.

he’d laugh, drink, joke with these monsters only to hold back the inconsolable sobs that begged to leave his throat at the thought of what he would do to you later.

you were hugged in a black dress, sticking out like a sore thumb in the sea of neons. it was only about halfway through the party that his eyes found yours, you swore you saw guilt and pity flash through them.

“excuse me, i’ll be in the restroom.” he smiled to the woman next to him, she didn’t seem to be too distraught at him taking leave.

you followed him to the outdoor terrace, shivering once the cold wind made contact with your backless dress and shoulders.

once away from all of the windows he leaned on the railing, sucking his lips into his teeth.

you stopped beside him, ready for an embrace- only met with his cold stare down at you.

it was then that finnick decided he would bite the bullet- and he could’ve sworn he could taste the gunpowder down his throat already.

“what wrong finnick?”you grabbed his bare shoulder with one hand, the other one touching his face. he swore he could’ve melted, could’ve forgotten all about saving you right there- to continue poisoning you with the fatal injection that was being associated with him.

finnick laughed that signitaure faux-money grabbing laugh. “oh come one princess, you don’t have to act like you need me anymore.” he shrugged out of your touch.

your eyes squinted, was this an act, was this him wanting to end things? there was a fine line between love and pure obsession and you hadn’t known where it started or where it ended. “what?” you move towards him again- it seemed being too far away made the cool air more unbearable.

“i’m sure you loved the money, the sponsors, the jewels, everything the capitol- everything i gave you” his eyes were dark, selling the act, glaring down into your soul. “but you won your games y/n, no need to follow me around like a lost puppy anymore.”

was that what you’d done? was that what it’d seemed like? like you were stringing him along for your survival?

you blamed the wind still blowing in your face for your watery eyes, but it was more so the sound of your heart shattering with each word he spoke. venom; hot and heavy on his beautiful mouth- and he spit it at you like you were dirt.

“i don’t understand finnick? i thought-“

he only laughs this time, so sinister, so in your face, he takes a step closer to you, sizing you up. “you thought we loved eachother?” he mocks, raising his eyebrows and amusement. his body is giving out and his heart is breaking inside- but he’d much rather live miserably and rot away than watch the capitol strip you of all you were good for simply because they had the picture perfect sex symbols as a couple. “i mean the sex was great, y/n- don’t get me wrong. but thats all it was. you trying to survive, and me taking the opportunity for pleasure.”

your first tear falls, he’s tearing you to shred. tearing through your sheer layer of clothes and the skin beneath it, reaching for you heart, grabbing it then throwing it to the concrete.”how could you say that? after everything how dare you say that?” you sob out.

“oh baby, i thought you knew?” he shakes his head at you, you feel like your a little girl again, but not free nor innocent and happy. you feel excluded- cut out, labeled as something subjective, so ripe, yet so very rotten.

“finnick let’s just leave.” blinking through tears, you go to grab his arm but he shakes out of your grip, disgust written on his face. if only you’d known it was all for himself. if only you’d known what the capitol would make the two of you do if this went any further- what snow would do. “let’s leave, we can go home, we can talk about this finnick.” you beg, raw emotion tears through you voice as you plead through tears.

he flashes you the most charming smile, “i love the flattery, but if you want to spend the night with me- all you have to do is take a bid and buy me out princess.” his smile drops as he turns around to walk out. “glad to know what the eroticism of your company brings though, tastes like a whole lot of tears and daddy issues.”

people have begun to flow into the terrace now, admiring the view. but your view was the man you’d given every last bit of your mind body and soul to, walking away without looking back.

your legs can’t bare to carry your body, can’t bare to keep up with his long strides that beg to put a distance between you two. “finnick!” you scream, almost growl.

but he’s gone, whisked away back into the party.

you want to scream, you want to vomit, your stomach is doing flips. every part of you feels violated.

some part of you wishes you died in that arena, and some part of him does too.

send requests!!! i’ll be taking them asap!!

#finnick angst #finnick imagine #finnick odair smut #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fluff #finnick fluff #finnick oneshot #finnick smut #finnick fanfic #hunger games finnick #finnick #thg finnick #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick x y/n #finnick odair x you

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thegreenthepeacetheorange · 4 months

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the self-hatred that katniss outwardly expresses in mockingjay is actually present right from the first book and it makes me so sad. her feelings of being a terrible person are there right from the start, she has such low self-esteem. the paranoia she has about peeta before the first games extends to lavinia too. she feels so horrible about not doing anything for her (even though what could she have realistically done without getting herself hurt or killed instantly) and she’s convinced that lavinia must hate her and can’t wait to see her die in the games. and yet lavinia is so gentle and cares so much about her. and katniss can’t understand why because she thinks that’s she’s a terrible person undeserving of love and kindness. after her father died and her mother withdrew, she really closed herself off (mostly) to gentleness and love (and yet she’s so naturally maternal to prim despite that). she doesn’t understand why madge likes her, the baker etc. she thinks everyone is doing her favours for prim. that the whole square in 12 goes silent at the reaping because of the tragic drama that’s happened and not because she’s actually a valued and cared for member of their community.

no wonder she takes so long to fully allow herself to be loved by peeta, to allow her own feelings to grow. she’s kinda stunned that he even managed to notice her when he already had a big group of friends. her self-esteem is literally in the gutter. but she allows herself to be loved by him and in turns learns how to love him back and express it and that is HUGE for this poor broken teenage girl that has never truly had that. her getting love and peace and being cared for at the end of the trilogy is really important. Katniss needed that tenderness, that care, not the solitary faux life of a girlboss.

#Everlark #the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta x katniss #katniss x peeta

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sorcerous-caress · 8 days

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I'm so jealous of Daniil. Having only played the Haruspex route so far in both game, each time I'm invited to the Bachelor's place I turn green with envy at how he resides at an actual proper house with a real room and a real bed.

A real bed with a whole bedframe. A pillow with an actual pillowcase!! His bed even has sheets!

He has WINDOWS. His house is in a nice neighbourhood, and his roommate is a very attractive woman. There is actual furniture in his room. Not one hint of fungus growing on the walls or rust!

Can you imagine living there as your lair? Spending the whole game knowing you have a real house with a real bed to go back to at the end of each night? Seeing Eva's face every day before leaving to do quests?

Meanwhile, Artemy is stuck in this dumpster room of an abandoned factory. Cuddling with rats on his makeshift bed, held by nothing but a wooden panel, some boxes and a dream.

A pillow so yellow it has its own ecosystem where bugs established real estate. Is that even a pillow or is it some random rock Artemy found and chucked in there? Is it a stale loaf of bread?? Why is it hard looking?

But no, you don't even get to keep the rock roach pillow because in P2, they take it away.

Fuck you Artemy, you had it good for too long. No pillow now because what are you gonna do about it?. Fold your mattress instead to have a resemblance of a faux sense of protection under your most vital organ during the long hours of death rehearsal that you call sleep.

Somehow, they made the bed even more unstable looking. As if that thin panel in the middle could hold Artemy's weight without caving in. Oh, and apparently, I ran out of boxes to use for furniture because the bed and the table have to share custody of the same box.

We have downgraded into barrels now, as you can see :) No, I don't know what they used to contain inside.

Waking up every day to Sticky's snotty face telling me not to spit in the wind and nagging me about cleaning up the week-old human organs thrown around that are stinking up the place.

THERE IS MOLD GROWING ON MY WALLS. RUST FLAKES FALL FROM THE EXPOSED METAL PIPES DOWN INTO MY CEREAL EACH BREAKFAST.

This single wall holds so much mold and fungus that they started crossbreeding and evolved into new, never seen before types of bacteria. Satan's asscrack is more hygienic than whatever biohazard plagues of Egypt this slab of concrete contains.

I live in the gutters. My only neighbours are an illegal gang of minors with a hatred for furries and another illegal gang but of adults this time who sell me bullets way above the market price. A dangerous neighbourhood where you can't have shit because SOMEONE STOLE MY BULL.

The basement I reside in has no windows, the smell is pungent and fucking vile down here. There isn't even a space for a bathroom.

This is my kitchenette/bathroomette/showerette/cupboardette/surgery tools disinfection stationette/sinkette/watercoolerette/toilette/fridge.

also my buckets yk.

One bucket for the makeshift bathroom, another for holding important organs and loose guts during surgery, a third one as a cooking pot for making tasty meat grub soup and the final one for murky water after sweeping the floor.

What do I use to tell them apart? Oh nothing :) I just mix em up every now and then, oppsie daisy.

Oh and the floors are CONSTANTLY wet for some reason. Yeah sticky slipped and almost broke his neck the other day so watch your steps.

There is also this eerie room with literal garbage and broken furniture right next to the entrance. Don't worry about it, sometimes I hear someone crying and screaming for help when I'm trying to go to sleep but it's just the factory being silly lol.

Now this? This is where the M A G I C happens. This is where Artemy the Menkhu makes his famous herbal remedies and natural mixtures. This is where the Panacea for the infamous sand plague gets made!

In a rusty empty food can.

Falling into a bucket with shit stains.

MEDICINE BABBYYY. GET YOUR WEAK SOFT BONED ASS BACK TO THE CAPITAL BITCH, THIS IS HOW REAL MEN MAKE REAALLL MEDICINE!! RAWRRRRR🦅🦅💥💥

Meanwhile, dickovsky has the view of the cathedral and polyhedron just around the corner from where he resides. He has a backyard with a lake, and all I have is a swamp behind my basement. I trudge through the mud each night, collecting weeds and herbs to mix and trade so I and the two orphans who adopted themselves into my life don't go starving.

Not to mention the gaggles of herb brides loitering outside and giving me a false bad reputation.

That dandy douchbag has a pharmacy, a grocery, and a tailor right next door. The closest establishment to my shrekcore place of resident is a dingy basement bar with shady drinks and no bouncer to check for ID, I saw two kids in there once.

Pov: a qt3.14 surgeon says his dad isn't home and invites you over.

#♡otherfandoms #♡pathologic 2 #♡pathologic #artemy burakh #daniil dankovsky #pathologic 2 #pathologic classic hd #the haruspex #pathologic

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wnderkoo · 1 year

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boy's a liar

summary: you've been at odds with the crown prince ever since you were children, but feelings change and the light you see him in changes too. how long can you keep up this pretense of hatred? word count: 3.7k warnings: cherry!koo bc that deserves a warning, kind of some emotional constipation?, explicit smut– b**bie fondling, or*l f receiving, f-ngering, missionary, hitting it from the back, unprotected s*x (you better not), dw theres aftercare :)

what's the point of crying? it was never even love did you ever want me? was i ever good enough?

You hate how good he looks right now, simply leaning against the wall, an aloof smile on his pretty face as he holds court with his infuriating charm and ever bright personality. The dukes and duchesses eat up his every admission and hang onto every word of his sentences, making you roll your eyes as you watch them from across the room.

He holds a fluke of champagne in his hand, half full despite your knowing of his dislike of the liquor.

As if feeling your gaze on him, his eyes lift and wander curiously across the room before meeting yours. Expecting you to back down and look away, a look of pleasant surprise comes across his face when you hold his stare.

Your heart skips under his watchful gaze, his eyes caressing your skin from the tips of your fingers to your covered shoulders and leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

His eyes flick back up to yours, and you realise that not once throughout his assessment of you did he pause his conversation with his company. His mouth continues to move and the men and women crowded around him take no notice that his attention is elsewhere- on you.

A manicured hand slides up his chest, pretentious and outright trying to state its claim on him.

You'd seen her pin straight blonde hair before, at balls and other social events, but she never deserved more than a polite smile from you- she was just another social climber wrapped in faux elegance.

His face betrays no emotion, but his eyes hold yours from across the room as if gauging your reaction. He watches you lazily with an air of arrogance, and your hands buzz with the desire to slap him across his irritating face.

As if you could care less who he had on his arm.

You regard each other, waiting to see who will look away first.

It won't be you.

His mouth tugs up in a smile, as if sensing the fire burning within you, which burns infinitely hotter seeing his amused face.

Damn him.

"This looks like the most intense staring contest I've ever seen."

Dark eyes move away first, his attention fixing back on his company and you smile as you turn to the deep voice.

"Namjoon," you nod up at the tall duke.

His dimple peeks out as he smiles down at you, making a comment about how comfortable you look perched on the couch before joining you.

"So what's with you and the prince? I can feel the sexual tension rolling off of you."

Ever the playful instigator, you roll your eyes at his blatant need to gossip.

You've known Namjoon since you were both children, before you had to wear the burden of responsibility that came with your nobilities. When you could play around in the courtyard or sneak into the kitchen and steal from the cookie jar.

Growing up together, you knew you could always depend on him to run away with you from the over-the-top galas or the boring dinners.

While the socialites interacted amongst themselves, the two of you would be in the corner of the room judging anyone and everyone.

There was a small circle of people you considered acquaintances, and an even smaller circle of people you could call friends.

But you'd take a handful of genuine people over dozens of superficial friendships anyway.

"Nothing's up with us, you know how much I hate him."

Namjoon regards you with a skeptical look that you ignore, waving down one of the catering staff and plucking an hors d'oeuvres off the tray.

"I'm not buying it," he hums, taking one for himself.

"I see the way you've been looking at each other lately- it definitely doesn't look like hate."

You narrow your eyes at him, despite wondering yourself how much truth his words carry.

Perhaps it was because he knew you so well, knew of the mutual dislike you and the prince held for each other ever since you were children.

In all honesty, you're not sure where exactly your indifference came from but for as long as you can remember, the crown prince has always been the one you find yourself bantering with.

Although you don't carry any real enmity towards him, you found it easier to annoy each other with jabs and jests than to not.

He was the crown prince, and while you held a title of nobility yourself, he was always just one level above you, he always would be.

Perhaps it was the fact that he knew how important he was, or at least carried himself that way. He was expected to act a certain way, and while he did most of the time, he also liked to rebel in the smallest of ways, pushing boundaries until someone was bound to break.

But he was a royal, very few people could touch him, and he knew that. He knew he was untouchable.

He liked to play games, finding the most amusement in playing them with you. So casually cruel in the name of being honest, his favourite pastime was riling you up until you'd snap at him, enjoying your fire when it was directed at him.

As children, it was all fairly innocent- he'd pull on your braids and you'd steal his extra piece of panna cotta when he wasn't looking. As you got older, more avenues opened up for you to mess with each other.

Every courtier or suitor would be driven away by the prince's incessant meddling, spewing lies about how you grew horns and turned into a beast at night or that your farts smelled like mouldy bread. While no one actually believed him, you never heard back from them after the night.

It's almost comical how palace staff are warned when the two of you are under the same roof, made to be weary of the ultimate prank war that you've been in your whole lives.

Endless teasing and outright arrogance made his face ever so punchable.

While you ran in the same tight-knit circle and saw each other more often than not, you weren't as close as you were with the others.

Now that you were older, more responsibility weighed you down, and you were both expected to play your parts.

The ever obedient daughter, you played yours while Jungkook got to mess around and spew nonsense about his duties that everyone ate up because they weren't exactly listening, too busy fawning over his charming looks and playboy personality.

It didn't help that he was actually good looking.

Thinking back to Namjoon's words, you wonder how that could ever be true. If anything, after the events that had perspired a few weeks ago, he should only be able to see the absolute bitterness in your eyes when you see the crown prince.

"Trust me, Joon, we're definitely not in love."

The buzz of the ballroom was finally beginning to dwindle, dukes and marquesses alike starting to call it a night, bidding their goodbyes to the royal family before making their way out.

You'd spent most of the night with Namjoon, snickering as you watched people bend over backwards trying to force some semblance of elegance.

The corridors were empty now, save for the staff passing through packing up the event.

After using the washroom, you wander down the hallways, the lighting dim enough to confuse your tired and faintly tipsy brain.

Turning one of the corners, you stop short upon seeing a certain head of dark hair leaning against the opposite wall.

"Your highness," you bow, miscalculating the action and fumbling slightly before you right yourself, giggling quietly to yourself.

Was it your imagination or did the prince's arms flinch forward as if ready to catch you?

"So formal," the prince murmurs, standing upright and stalking forwards to where you were stood.

He offers his arm and for some reason you hesitate, wondering whether touching him was a particularly good idea. But then he gazes down at you with those soft eyes, no malice hidden behind them, and you find yourself taking his arm anyway.

"I'll escort you to your room."

"How noble of you."

"You know me, always saving pretty damsels and slaying dragons."

You snicker. He laughs.

The endless walk through the corridors is silent, neither of you having anything of real importance to say to each other.

The question of why the prince had been in the corridor in the first place lingers in your mind, but you've come to know better than to expect him to answer your questions.

When you reach the landing of the third floor, the prince's steps slow until you've reached just outside your door.

You open it without a word, strolling inside, ready to be done with the night and sleep all the way through to brunch.

The prince lingers in the doorway and you see him thinking over something in his head through the reflection of your vanity mirror.

"What is it Jungkook?"

The use of his name so casually has him turning his head up at you, a grin forming on his face.

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?" he asks, leaning against the doorframe.

His eyes follow you as you toe off your shoes, throwing them rather carelessly to the foot of your dresser. Sitting down at your vanity, you grab a wipe, swiping at your eyes to remove your makeup as you contemplate your answer.

"You know how I feel about those social events," you say.

He did.

On the off chance you felt like getting along, the two of you would sneak away in the middle of galas or dinners, running off to the gardens under the cover of darkness and hiding where no one could find you.

Just for a few hours, you could leave behind all the ass kissing and artificiality and pretend that you weren't who you were.

You'd skip rocks across the pond, mock nobility, or listen to Jungkook and his endless knowledge about constellations and argue over where they were in the sky.

Stolen moments like those- you'd never tell him- but you saved them for the bad days.

Movement in the mirror has your eyes meeting his in the reflection, watching as he approaches from behind.

He reaches a tentative hand up to unclasp the necklace you had been fumbling with, his warm touch leaving tingles when his fingers brush against the skin of your neck.

"Thanks."

Was your voice always this breathy?

"What about yourself? That pretty blonde make it worth your while?"

You hate the unfamiliar feeling the thought of him spending time with another girl brings, but you'd sooner take it to the grave than acknowledge it.

"She can't seem to take the hint that I'm not interested," he shrugs, silently removing the pins from your hair.

"But you're always interested," you tease.

As the crown prince, he obviously couldn't sleep around. But the rules never said anything about casual flings where he could woo girls with his flirty words and kick them to the curb when he was bored.

Growing up, people rarely saw him for more than being their next ruler. Girls saw him as something they could conquer, dig their claws into and hang on his arm and pray they became relevant.

Sure he was arrogant and cocky, but people seemed to forget he was a human being.

While you wouldn't hesitate to push him in the pool or leave him locked out in the snow, a part of you felt for him. He had never found a meaningful connection with anyone, and even if he kept up the pre-tense of the heartbreaker prince there was a secret romantic hidden in his playboy persona.

"Feelings change."

Oddly cryptic and vague.

"Did you want something, Jungkook? I'm rather tired."

Coming to a stand, you reach behind your back for the strings of your dress. You had a lady in waiting who would have been helping you, but you'd all but threatened Marie to retire early for the night, knowing how hard she worked to making you look presentable earlier.

Jungkook's hands beat you to it, tugging lightly on the ribbon to free you.

"Just wanted to see you."

Again, oddly cryptic and vague.

As he unlaces your corset, you can't help the heavy breath that escapes you once your lungs aren't being constantly squeezed by the garment.

Your eyes clash in the mirror, not a word leaving either of you as the straps of your dress are pushed down your shoulders, the fabric pooling by your waist.

You're quite aware that your front is bared, your nipples hardening in the cool air. Your breath becomes laboured as you anticipate his next move. Though, his eyes never stray from yours, holding your gaze as the tension in the room builds.

"Jungkook-"

The word comes out in a breathy whimper before he tilts your head and crashes his mouth to yours. You feel the groan in his throat as he claims your mouth with his, your tongues clashing for dominance.

A large palm comes up and cups your breast, squeezing the flesh and drawing a moan from you. He twists a hardened bud between his thumb and finger before giving the same attention to the other.

In a blur, the rest of your dress is on the ground and Jungkook has you pinned on the bed as his mouth explores your neck.

He nips and kisses at your skin- sometimes you wonder if he leaves marks because he knows you'll have to cover them up.

"Should've known you only came here for this," you grit out just as he reaches your breasts. Taking a breast into his mouth, his wet and warm tongue circles around your hardened bud before sucking hard.

He comes away with a lewd pop, and the image of him with saliva glistening on his mouth makes you just that much more aroused.

"Didn't seem to be a problem last week when you were coming around my cock," he shoots back, moving down your body until he's kneeling between your spread thighs.

Despite his image of poise and virtue, his mouth could be equally as filthy.

"Tell me to stop and it stops."

You don't.

He smiles.

Leaning down, he places open mouth kisses against the inside of your thighs, always inching closer and never reaching exactly where you want him.

You slide your hands into his hair, palming the soft cherry coloured strands- another one of his acts of rebellion.

You open your mouth to protest, the words stolen out of your mouth by Jungkook finally dragging his tongue up your centre, the groan he lets out vibrating against you and making you shudder.

He eats you like a man starved, neither of you caring how sloppy it is, not when it feels so good and you taste so sweet. Hiking your thighs up over his shoulders, Jungkook devours you, showing no mercy as he slides two fingers into you with ease.

They stretch you out deliciously, and when he curls them just right he hits that spot that has you seeing stars.

The feeling of him pumping into you along with the way he abuses your swollen nub with his mouth brings you to an orgasm embarrassingly quick.

Waves of pleasure wash over you, eyes squeezing closed as Jungkook helps you ride out your orgasm.

The crown prince emerges from between your legs, wide grin on his mouth as your arousal coats his chin and all around his lips.

"You good?" he asks, kissing the inside of your knee before sitting up.

"Mhm."

He leans forward, capturing your mouth in his once more. You sit up, unbuttoning his dress shirt impatiently while he chuckles into the kiss at your eagerness.

The shirt falls away, revealing smooth skin upon smooth skin. The prince can't help but smirk against your lips at how you all but spill drool onto his stomach. His toned, chiseled stomach.

You push a hand against his chest and throw a leg around his waist to turn the prince until he's laying against your pillows and you're above him straddling his hips.

The sudden confidence has his face lighting up in surprise, a complaint nowhere to be found as he places his palms on your waist, his touch searing against your skin.

But oh so gentle.

With hooded eyes, the crown prince watches the way your head tips back and your lips part in a soft sigh when you roll your hips against him, definitely feeling the growing bulge beneath you.

He takes the opportunity to lean forward and take a breast in his mouth, his other hand snaking up to the back of your neck and holding you to him.

You don't know exactly how you found yourselves in this unlikely predicament. The first time it'd happened was the prince's birthday. You'd gotten so angry at him for crashing yet another date with one of your suitors earlier in the week, and his only response was to kiss you right then and there.

One thing led to another until you were both laying spent against the bed, chests heaving as you came to terms with what exactly had just happened.

You spent the week avoiding each other as much as you could, until you found yourself in bed with the prince again.

And so begun the sneaking around and the late night shenanigans. Though, where anyone else was concerned, you still couldn't stand each other.

You both knew it shouldn't have gone on for this long, but somehow you couldn't find it in yourselves to care.

Finding yourself on your back again, you look up at the crown prince as he kneels between your spread thighs. His pants are off now, lying somewhere forgotten with the rest of your clothes.

He stares down at you with hooded eyes mirroring that of your own before reaching into his boxers and pulling out his thick, hard length.

The sight of it alone has you whining, wanting it in you. You bite your lip when Jungkook when he rubs the swollen head against your folds, spreading his pre-cum and your own arousal around.

"We still good, pretty?"

You all but scream yes, nodding desperately.

Jungkook finally gives you what you want, positioning himself at your entrance and slowly pushing in. A hand on you hip rubs soothingly as he moves in inch by glorious inch. He hisses about how tight you are, eyes squeezing shut.

Despite the number of times he's taken you, you can never quite get used to just how big he is. The stretch borders on pleasure and pain, leaving you breathless as Jungkook bottoms out.

He waits patiently for you to get used to him, hands holding your waist and squeezing gently.

When you give him the go-ahead Jungkook starts to move, drawing his hips back just to push in again. The breathy moans that leave your mouth only spur him on as he thrusts into you.

It feels so good, he feels so good. The way he moves in you, just the right amount of rough and carefulness, makes him one of the most enjoyable partners you've had in- well ever.

By the time you're nearing your second orgasm of the night, Jungkook is nowhere near done with you.

Flipping you onto your stomach, he draws your hips up until you're on your knees, ass in the air, before Jungkook enters you again.

In this position, his thrusts hit deeper, reaching places no one else has reached and making you almost lightheaded.

You crash headfirst into Nirvana, body twitching as pleasure floods your senses. Your legs threaten to give out but Jungkook holds you up, continuing his to move behind you.

The overstimulation is just bearable, and when he slaps your ass you have to stop yourself from screaming.

"Fuck baby, I'm close-"

The whimper in his voice makes you move your ass back on him, meeting his thrusts and grinding against him.

His hips stutter before he stills completely, spilling himself deep inside you with a guttural moan.

The two of you have always been safe when it comes to sex, despite never wearing condoms. You have measures in place to make sure you don't end up in the papers with the next royal scandal.

You whine when he pulls out, feeling empty without his presence. You collapse on the bed, sighing as you come down from the high.

You hear him walk to your bathroom and then you feel his warmth behind you again.

Despite all his cruelty, he cleans you up with a warm cloth, his movements gentle.

You thank him awkwardly, your words ending in a yawn that has him chuckling from somewhere in the room.

He flicks the light switch off, submerging the room in darkness before coming down to lay beside you in bed.

Turning your head, you peer up at him, the light from the moon hitting his face perfectly and making him look like your worst mistake personified.

You don't exchange a single word as you cuddle up to his chest, his arm snaking around you and holding you closer. You relish in his warmth, pressing your cheek against his bare skin, closing your eyes and listening to his breathing even out.

For some reason, he makes you feel safe.

In this afterglow, where all your swords and armour are left on the ground, and you only see each other as you are- you wish you could stay like this always.

You take in his presence, knowing that you'll wake up in the morning and he won't be beside you.

He never is.

But what's the point of crying? It was never even love.

You knew that.

unedited :) hope you liked it

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wildestdreamsblog · 8 months

Text

Latibule VII

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Here is a gift. Happy birthday to me :> we are nearing the end of season 1! Tysm for all the support ✨

Masterlist, Latibule VI

“Do you have no sense of self-preservation? Are you suicidal? Are you tired of you life? Or are you just fucking naive?”

You blinked owlishly at his tirade. You almost couldn’t keep up with the onslaught of words he was emphasizing to you, nor were you aware that this man could rap when he was mad. “Excuse me?”

“You’re letting a strange man into our house!” He hissed whilst pointing at the man sitting calmly on the sofa with his legs crossed and the tea cup perfectly balanced on his knee as he watched the two of you bickered like an old couple. To be honest, Kim Seokjin was entertained. Hell, this was the most emotion he saw on Yoongi and he couldn’t wait to tell the rest of their brothers that the fearless and emotionless mafia leader was a wreck because he couldn’t find you.

“And?” You snapped back at him, not seeing why he was this infuriated.

“And?” He scoffed in utter disbelief before stepping near you imposingly, his chest almost touching yours. “And what if he hurts you? What if he’s a bad person? What then?”

“He needs help-“

“And he could be fucking faking it!” He shouted with so much emotion that you could see the veins on his neck protruding. He was still not over the panic he felt when he thought he lost you. He could still feel his fucking heart, which he originally thought was long dead, beat so fast it almost bursted from its cage when you weren’t there. Not even a barrel of a gun could make him panic like that. Not even death could make him as terrified as he was when he thought you left him.

You raised your brows at him before glancing at the man. You were embarrassed that Suga was talking as though the man wasn’t physically there. It was as though he didn’t care if he heard or if he offended anyone. Nope. But you thought that he was being too much. Everyone deserved a chance, right? “Aren’t you being a hypocrite? I didn’t know you then and I still let you in.”

And that made him paused because for all intents and purposes, he was the man you should have never let in. He was the most dangerous man out there. You should have left him to perish that night. You didn’t know him, and yet you saved him. You should have let fate ran its course because now, it was you who couldn’t run.

“…That’s different.”

“How so?!”

“I would never hurt you!”

“Why?!”

“Because you are important to me!”

Well.

Right then and there, as the two of you breathed hard after screaming at each other, silence reined in. All you could hear was that and someone who sounded like he was choking on his tea. You didn’t know what to make of the fact that he just told you, no, he screamed at you, that you were important to him. And you sure as hell could no longer ignore that you felt something for this man.

And it unnerved you.

It displaced you.

It terrified you that the truth was staring right at you with his dark eyes burning with something you were scared to name. It was time to face the music.

You had irrevocably fallen for him.

Yet before you could opened your mouth, he broke eye contact with you and pointed at the man who was watching the two of you with satisfaction in his eyes. “And you, follow me.”

---

Kim Seokjin remained smiling as Min Yoongi glared at him with faux hatred. He stood there with his arms crossed in front of him and perhaps, a lesser man would have ran once Yoongi looked at them this way. But not him. For heaven’s sake, he grew up with the mafia leader. He was there when the man just wouldn’t say a word for the whole fucking year until Seokjin was in danger.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

He smiled at him, “I was looking for my cat.”

“What cat?! You hate cats!” He hissed before taking a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm himself. “You know what- don’t answer that. Fuck, who else knows I’m alive?” Yoongi thought that if anyone other than Jimin and Jin knew, then he had to leave this instant. He could not and would not put you in danger’s harm. No. He would paint this whole town red if it meant keeping you safe.

“Only Jimin and I,” Jin answer somberly, his face losing its initial playfulness as he regarded Yoongi. “I know better than to tell the maknaes. They are devastated that you had joined satan and who knows what the three of them would do when they know that you’re still breathing?”

“Namjoon?”

Jin shrugged, “Haven’t seen him much. Probably still busy convincing his secretary not to resign. I mean- seriously, for someone so smart he could be so dense. It’s so obvious that he has feelings for her-“

“Hoseok?”

He paused before racking his brain when he last saw him. The seven of them usually see each other at least weekly. So…what happened to him? “I haven’t spoken to him.”

Yoongi nodded as he turned to look at the house, at what he now considered as his safe haven. The two of them were talking outside and by now, you probably realized that he knew Seokjin. “Good. There’s a mole in our organization, hyung. I cannot trust anyone.”

“I understand,” Jin murmured, following where Yoongi seemed to be looking at. “Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

And then he answered him with a sucker punch.

Seokjin was now brimming with satisfaction and smiling widely as he watched with much content as Yoongi doubled over from the force. He was clutching his stomach as he looked up and sneered at him. “You asshole! And you call yourself a fucking doctor?”

He chuckled before clapping Yoongi’s back. “You deserve it. Don’t ever make me think that you descended to hell and then come back alive, okay?”

And despite Jin choosing the less violent life and becoming a doctor, he remained to still be one of the most dangerous man among the seven. How could he not when he was raised to be the king of the underworld? How could he not when he learned how to kill a man before he could even properly talk? How could he not when he grew up too soon before his body even left his boyhood?

Notwithstanding the fact that he worded it so politely, Yoongi knew enough to decipher that this was not a request. This was an order. See, Seokjin’s face was deceiving. His handsome face, the innocent and playful air he carried, the way he presented himself to the society- they were all a ruse. Kim Seokjin was simply the face of duplicity.

Yoongi glared at him before nodding his head.

---

You stared at the two men standing in front of you with so much contrast on their expressions- one was smiling so widely and the other was frowning as though everything was an imposition to him. You didn’t have to specify which was which.

“You found your cat,” you repeated with unbridled disbelief in your tone. Jin nodded his head convincingly while Yoongi looked like he was long done with this conversation.

“So where is the cat?”

“It’s…out there.”

“You’re taking it home, right?”

His lips was tilted to the side as he regarded you. You thought that this man looked as though he knew something you didn’t and it was starting to annoy you. “You know what, I think it’s happier here.”

“You can’t just leave your cat here, mister!”

And he just shrugged at your outburst before throwing his arm around the sulking Suga. “I can when it’s happier here. Anyway! What’s for dinner?”

He sure did make himself at home, you thought as you eyed him ate with gusto. On the other hand, Suga was whining beside you.

“You’re an unwelcome guest in our house. Hurry up and leave.”

“So my cat,” Jin suddenly quipped up, “was the cutest kitten. We grew up together. I grew up handsome and he grew up quite ugly, though.”

Yoongi suddenly banged his fist on the table, creating quite a disturbance. “Excuse me-“

“I still remember when my father brought him home. His…old family was not good. When they died, my father adopted him. I was an only child and then suddenly, I had a brother who never spoke for a whole year until well- my father almost beat me up to death. That cat saved me,” he pondered, his eyes focused on yours. You initially thought that this man looked angelic, yet now that he was looking at you with a familiar, swirling darkness and madness in his eyes, you were almost quite sure that he was not as gentle and good as you perceived him to be. And the way he was telling you his past made it seemed as though you were entering into a world of theirs, one that you couldn’t retreat from.

“I loathed how I was not able to save him from a darker world with my family. I wanted to tell him to leave and run far from my family back then, to leave the worse hell imaginable, but I was too powerless. But I see now that this is a new chance.”

“Stop, hyung-“

“Sit down,” You cut Suga off, pushing him back to his seat with one hand and a glare, to which he complied angrily. You turned to the mysterious man. “What do you mean?”

“What I’m saying is my cat is happier with his new owner. In fact, this is the most content and at peace I have ever seen him. I’m saying that I’m not taking him home.”

---

“Why are you making me walk you to your car?!” Yoongi hissed at Jin as the older man dragged him out to where he parked his car.

“Because hyung missed you,” he replied indulgently before throwing his arm around Yoongi’s shoulder. The night in this town was tranquil and quiet, Jin noted. This was so different to where they grew up. In their world, night was when men like Yoongi came alive. In their world, quietness was not synonymous to peace. To them, it was the calm before the storm.

“She’s good for you. Give me a niece or nephew right this instant.”

Yoongi threw his arm away from him as though in disgust, his dark hair falling on his face. He pushed his only hyung away from him. “Are you insane? Doctors like you cannot lose their minds! What brought this on? If you’re craving a child, make one of your own! Or better yet, ask Jungkook! He’s the only one who has a fucking wife among us!”

Jin looked at Yoongi with amusement in his eyes. Between them all, Yoongi was the most unemotionally available person. And really, he didn’t blame him. After all, he suffered from his parents and was given a chance to have a normal family…only that his bastard and useless excuse of a father was the one who adopted the poor Yoongi. It was not unimaginable why Yoongi couldn’t understand the obvious.

“Yoongi, do you know that you look at her like she could say the sky is pink and you would believe her?”

Yoongi scoffed before looking at him as though he was making no sense. “Hyung, are you on drugs? What are you trying to say? The sky is very clearly purple-“

“What the fuck- are you color blind? You know what? Never mind. I always knew there was something very wrong with you. What I was trying to say is that you look at her like she’s everything you could ever want,” he explained quickly, his voice increasing in apparent irritation at Yoongi’s obliviousness. For heaven’s sake, this was the first time he saw him with his demons at peace. This was the first time he saw him with no blood thirst simmering in his eyes.

Yoongi regarded him for a moment too long before opening his mouth to say yet another nonsense. “Hyung, that’s slander. You will hear from my lawyer.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, “I always hear from Kim Namjoon.”

You were ready, you told yourself.

You expected this and you had been preparing yourself for when he finally left you. You weren’t foolish enough to think that he would want to stay when his brother came to get him. You knew despite what that man said, Suga would want to go back to his old life.

Why would he want to stay with you, you thought. You were a liability.

You would soon be a liability.

And now as you stood in the middle of the dark living room, with the sofa he had been sleeping on for months unmade with blanket thrown carelessly on the backrest of the sofa, your heart broke. You had always thought you were already acquainted with loneliness when you whole family perished. You thought you were used with loneliness.

But this was different.

This was a different kind of ache, one that you were sure you would never get over for the rest of your life. You were used to the silence, but heavens, the silence of not having him around was so fucking loud that you could not ignore it despite your best efforts. The space he occupied was too big that not having him here felt like a big gap…like something was clearly missing.

Yet, he returned.

The front door opened quietly, the moonlight seeping from the opened door. You jumped when he called for you, when he called you his angel.

“I-I thought you were leaving,” you confessed as you looked up to him. The shadows made him looked more sinister, and you would have been terrified had you not known him. You would have been scared had you not known how gentle he could be, how playful and soft he could be despite his grumpiness. You would have ran to the hills had you not known how carefully and softly he held your hand everyday as the two of you walked back to your home.

You would have been screaming for help had you not known how he looked at you with fondness in his eyes on mornings where you two sipped your coffee before leaving for work.

His silence, though, was unnerving. He stepped closer to you, so close that you had nowhere else to go but to him.

“Do you wish for me to leave?” He whispered as he caressed your face. He was never religious, but God, please let her say no, he prayed to whoever was willing to listen to him. “Because if you do, I will. I will walk out of that door this instant. You will never have to see or hear from me ever again.”

And he meant it. You were the only one he was willing to follow. You were the only one he would willingly marched to hell for. You were the first and only, he thought. “You only need to say a word and I will follow,” he stated with so much truth that you could do nothing but believe every word he said.

But your thoughts haunted you. You conscience was screaming too loud for you to let him go while you still could, to not subject him to misery with you. He was giving you an out and all the signs told you to let him go.

You should...right?

Right.

Slowly, you stepped back. His hands falling limply on his sides as he watched you took a step farther away from him, and all his demons told him that this was wrong. All his evilness told him that you shouldn't be far from him. But you were his angel. As much as it displaced him to have you far, he had to respect your wish.

Your silence was taken as an answer. Suga nodded his head in understanding as he watched you closed your bedroom door. As soon as you did, you knew you committed the worst mistake in your life. Here was a good thing. Here stood a magical thing that made you feel, and in your cowardice you turned your back on him.

Fuck it, you were exhausted of living as though you were in a borrowed time.

You wanted to truly live. You wanted to truly exist before this all went away.

Without any thought, you opened your door, prepared to run for him should he have left already.

Yet, what you saw was him standing in front of your door as though he was waiting, patiently waiting for you to come back to him. And you did.

“Stay,” you ordered as you clutched his biceps, looking up at his dark eyes, willing for him to see what you already accepted: you loved him.

Suga smiled, resting his forehead on yours. “I will, Angel,” he promised.

And he sealed it with a kiss.

Tip Jar Latibule VIII

#min yoongi x reader #bts yandere #bts fic #yandere bts #yandere min yoongi #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #bts mafia au

917 notes · View notes

jihyoruri · 7 months

Text

INTO YOU bada lee x reader

warnings: yn is apart of jam republic, bada is older than yn, fluff, one sided enemies to potential lovers, fluff, yn is lowkey insane but it’s okay we love her

yn poked her tongue into the side of cheek as her gaze hardens on the tall dancer, of course she just had to be here and look the way she does, so annoyingly attractive.

yn felt a nudge and turned to look at audrey who had a teasing look on her face, “you know people can feel when you stare at them right?” she laughs nudging yn again, “she’s a good dancer.”

yn rolled her eyes at that, “I wouldn’t say good…” she fibbed, looking off to the side, she was really good dancer actually but yn would never say that out loud.

audrey have a pointed look that screamed “be real” and yn reluctantly shrugged her shoulders, “okay maybe she’s a little good.”

“why do you hate her again?” audrey asked taking her turn to have a look at the taller girl, ever since she’s met yn, yn would always rant to her about some “tall asshole.” that she hates, it’s amusing to see yn’s hatred in person.

“she just has it out for me.” yn answered dramatically, throwing herself on audrey’s shoulder, “have I told you about the time she chose me to do a duet with her just to get under my skin? and it was so intimate ugh i hated it.”

“yes yn, yes you have.”

“oh.” yn says before perking up again, “but it’s okay.” she says clapping her hands together as audrey looks at her confused, “since this is a show, she’ll probably be focused on that.”

“really?” audrey asked sarcastically, raising a brow as yn nods happily, “are you sure about that?”

“100% positive.” yn says flashing her teammate a charming smile. “she’ll probably forget I’m here.”

“yeah?”

“yep.”

“then why is she staring at you?” audrey asks in faux confusion. nodding over at the taller girl she smiles when she seees yn tense and slowly look behind herself.

yn makes eye contact with the person that she highly despised, she narrows her eyes at the other dancer who “smiles.” at yn.

to anyone else it would seem like a friendly smile but yn knew that smile. she turned back to audrey with a scowl on her face, “did you see what she just did?”

“uh..” audrey trails off, “smile at you?”

“no, she just revealed that she’s gonna make my life a living hell.” yn said taking another quick look behind her to get another look at bada, before turning back around to audrey, “oh, she’s so cocky I hate it.”

audrey lets out a loud laugh and leans closer to yn, “I love you but you’re insane.”

“I’m not insane.” yn says shaking her head seriously, “I’m real, and I’m gonna avoid that spawn of satan like my life depends on it, she’s not gonna ruin this for me.”

“ugh.” yn groaned looking up at the taller girl, “why do you ruin everything for me?” she whines hitting the dancers shoulder repeatedly, glaring at her when she laughs at yn.

bada continues to laugh as she hooks her finger in the loops of yn’s pants and pulls the shorter girl closer, “you’re so cute when you’re mad.”

“get your hands off of me.” yn says slapping the other girls fingers, her face heating up, she hates when bada does this, flirt with her just to get under her skin, “and stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you.” bada says as she ruffles yn’s hair, she lets out another laugh when yn gives her a an aspirated look “okay maybe I am.” she shrugs.

she laughs even more when yn groans and turns to walk away, she grabs the girls wrist and turns her back to her, “just because your reaction is always amusing.”

“okay so, me suffering is amusing to you?” yn asks looking up the taller girl who just looks down at her and smirks.

oh how yn wanted to wipe that smirk off her face, but instead she took a deep breath and turned around to walk away but came to a stop when bada’s voice was heard again.

“you know what can get me to stop annoying you?”

yn groans and turns back around to face girl, expecting her to make one of her stupid jokes but was shocked at what came out of bada’s mouth. “go out with me.”

the only word that could describe yn’s face would be shock, she took a step towards the older girl, “what?”

“you heard me.” bada responds, laughing softly at yn’s face, “oh, come on yn, don’t tell you didn’t know?” she asks teasingly. “you didn’t know I was into you?”

yn shakes her no head rapidly as bada walks closer to her and grabs her hand, “so…?”

yn looked up at bada and then down at her feet, maybe it wouldn’t so bad to give it try, “uh, okay…. but only because it will get you to stop annoying me.”

bada hums teasingly and wraps her arm around yn’s shoulder, “you sound so sure of yourself..” she trails off before leaning down lightly to yn’s face, laughing softly at the girls flustered state.

“you’re gonna be so into me by the end of that date.”

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter #fluff #bada x reader #bada lee x y/n

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sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast · 5 months

Text

You're his favorite show (2)

Choso is determined to win that one on one with you. Even going as far as to deny his own pleasure.

Divider: @rookthornesartistry

Content: fem!reader, reader is a camgirl, self pleasure (choso, reader), overstim (Choso), denial mentioned (also choso), pretties (readers name for followers) sex toys(vibrator, faux cock), lots of cum, parasocial behavior forming

Wc: 1.2k

Part one, Part Three

His stomach muscles tensed, another load of cum landing on his tummy as he watched you. Keeping one finger on the heart button, spamming them as quickly as he could. He needed to win. He had to. His finger was cramping, screaming from the awkward position he had it in, but he ignored all pain, all discomfort. Choso had told himself, after your announcement, that he was going to ignore his cock. Even if it was hard, leaking, the tip a flushed red. He would ignore it. And he had, his sole focus was pressing that heart over and over again. He would win if he did this, he was sure of it.

“Gonna make a pretty mess for me?” He heard you purr, your form leaning back in the chair as you held a small bullet vibrator to your clit. He felt like you were speaking directly to him and he'd never deny you. A glob of saliva was immediately spit onto his hand, wrapping around his length. Which is how he ended up coming four times, his hand still stroking his soft cock as he watched you. Twitching with sensitivity.

Fuck. He'd never forgive himself if he lost his one chance to talk to you in private because he couldn't resist you.

Even so, he never stopped pressing the heart. And he continued until your back arched, your arousal coating the toy. Funny how he started to harbor hatred and jealousy towards that little thing. He watched your naked chest rise and fall, a thin layer of sweat covering your skin. Subconsciously, he licked his lips. “Mmm…”you hummed, thumb searching for the button to turn off the toy. And when you pulled it away, he audibly groaned. Watching as a string of slick still connected you to the head of the vibrator. “I see lots of hearts here, pretties. You're gonna make it difficult to choose a winner.” you giggled, sitting forward a little as you scrolled. He held his breath as he awaited the verdict, his dick lying limp against his stomach. He'd clean himself up later.

“Hmmm, it seems that three of you spent and sent the same amount. Megadaddy00, callmepapa, and princ3charming.” His heart thumped when you addressed him but it clenched too, they'd all sent the same amount?

“Guess I'll have to choose,” you gave a pout to your lips. “Sorry pretties, I didn't expect three people to spend..” you looked at the amount, “$1,000 each.” Had he really spent that much? Choso was paying little attention. It's okay, he'd just take extra shifts. “How about this, give me three days mmkay? I'll announce the winner then.”

He would wait. For eternity if he had to, for you.

The next three days passed painfully slow. Especially since longer hours at work meant less time checking your social media. Your website. Anything for an update. He knew you said three days but, isn't he the obvious choice? He didn't want to wait anymore. So when he got home that day, he quickly made his way into his room. Not even bothering to take note of the ‘late rent’ note on the door. You were doing another show tonight. The answer had to come now.

He shrugged off his clothes, settling into bed, pulling out his laptop. As soon as he joined, so did you, your pretty face appearing on his screen.

“Hello, pretties. Thank you for being so patient. I know how much you wanna know who won.” Millions of messages popped up in the corner but he was too focused on you. He couldn't even bring himself away enough to tell you how pretty you looked again today. “I won't draw it out for much longer, the winner is….princ3charming!” You giggled, resting your elbows (and tits) on the table's surface. Did you just say…he won? All the blood drained from his face. His hands shook. Was this really happening?

“I'll call you privately after today's show to set up a time.”

Choso didn't think his heart could beat any louder than what it was currently doing. Thumping harshly against his chest.

Once more, Choso was left panting and sweaty. A mess of cum sitting on his tummy as his hazy eyes watched you. Even more excited now that he knew he'd get to see you. One on one. Talk to you, watch you. A show only for him. Fuck, the thought alone was enough to make him hard again. His spit covered palm slid up and down his length, leaving a mess clinging to his balls. You came too, your pretty pussy spasming around the faux cock you'd been thrusting in and out of you. A shiny sheen of liquid coated the toy when you slipped it out. You hummed, bringing it to your lips. Licking your own arousal off the toy.

“Fuck…fuck…” He whispered, stroking his dick even though it protested, leaving him to come very little. Choso was surprised his balls weren't completely drained yet.

“Thank you for joining, Pretties. And princ3charming? I'll be contacting you soon.” You gave your signature blow kiss before ending it. Choso was left with his mess, eyes glued to the screen as he waited. He wanted to clean up, but what if he missed your call while he did that? Choso couldn't risk it. So he sat in an uncomfortable mess of cum. A small chime came from his laptop, your small picture popping up in the middle.

Holy shit. He looked around nervously, teeth sinking into his lip as he pressed accept. It was just a voice call but fuck, he felt like he could pass out.

“Hello, princ3charming,” you cooed. And he didn't know how it was possible but his dick gave an excited twitch. “Hi…” God his voice sounded rough, scratchy. “Congratulations on your big win! When would you like to accept your prize?” More than anything, he wanted to say right now. To get to watch you lose yourself again. Making a mess that only he could see. But with one look at his poor, trying its best to harden dick, he thought against it. “Tomorrow…?”

“Tomorrow is perfect, around 8 work for you?” He nodded then mentally slapped himself since he knew you couldn't see him. “Yes…it's fine.”

“Wonderful, I'll see you then pretty.” His face heated and his dick jumped, again. And he could feel that you were going to hang up. “Wait!” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I made a mess…like you wanted.” Please be proud of him. Praise him. He loves you so much. You chuckled, “Did you now? You can show me firsthand tomorrow.” He heard a click before the call disconnected. Fuck. It was starting to get painful now, how badly his erection wanted to rise with need. But he couldn't, his poor cock was overused.

This wouldn't do. He needed to be ready for you. To show you, like you'd asked. Which means he'll have to hold off on touching himself until eight. No morning jerk offs to your video or imagining you riding him until you made a mess of him instead of those lackluster toys.

Tomorrow? He'd truly make you notice him.

Taglist: @adanfore, @matchafroggies724, @sabo-has-my-heart

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso #choso smut

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ohcaptains · 4 days

Note

more directive!abby when?🤷‍♀️👀no pressure take your time babe

detective!abby keeps me up at night.

she used to be a detective in a big city, but a particular grim case made her leave for a southern county, where she usually deals with petty theft and break ins.

she grew up in a small town like this. one where everybody knew who she was before she did, so she’s respectful, but stern. barely smiles — not a hint of happiness on that woman’s face. sure, she joshes around with her team, but never enough for them to invite her out for drinks. never enough to call them friends.

she’s the only woman on the team — bar the receptionist at the station, and sandra, who works in the evidence room — so when you join, fresh out of the academy, she’s not sure how to take you.

the team treat you more like a daughter than a cop. what’s worse, is that you grew up here, so everybody knows you. abby has to withstand your fathers demands that she’ll take care of his daughter, as if you didn’t finish top of your class. as if she hasn’t seen you during shooting practice.

as if she hasn’t seen you take down a man twice your size.

she lives in the town that bares memories of you. visits your family’s diner — a place she frequents regularly — and sees framed photos of you. black and white shots of your christening, your confirmation, the white dress you’re donning frilly and freyed from the generations of use.

little berkshire county, they call you. before it eventually whittles down to berkshire county, then just county. or kid.

darlin’.

abby partners you with old man tommy, hoping his gruff exterior and general hatred of the world will make the teasing stop, but even tommy is sweet on you.

“she used to work here, before she went to the academy,” tommy says. abby’s second in command looks around the diner — at your father cleaning the countertop.

“her family are legend here,” he trails. abby frowns. “what aren’t you telling me?”

tommy just shrugs.

“she’s a big girl tommy, just because you can’t get the image of her toothless and babbiling out of your mind.”

“i ain’t say that. and i don’t see her like that.” he uses the back of his hand to wipe ketchup from his mouth. “i treat her like everyone else.”

abby sees you, in a way the guys can’t. sees the faux sweetness. sees the venom under your smile — the hard glint to your soft eyes. the way you use the perception of you to your advantage. the way you have male suspects wrapped around your finger.

abby never had that advantage. she’s far too big and gruff to be gentle, and your sickly sweet persona grates on her, until there’s a murder in back beaufort.

until you’re the first on scene, and she hears your voice, clipped through the radio. cracking, trying to stay steady. when she arrives, you’re leaning against the squad car, smoking one of tommy’s southern tipps. arms wrapped around your body, protecting yourself from the chill of the night. she catches your eye, and that sweet glint is gone, replaced with a glazed over tint.

abby knows that look all too well. she fights the urge to feel sorry for you. remembers no one gave her sympathy when she found her first body. remembers her detective in charges’ words — they’ll never respect you if they see you break.

when she gets your account, you rattle off the words quickly, as if you’ve rehersed them. kept them fresh — remembered your training. as you describe the scene, abby sees your eyes start squint. she keeps her face hard.

“don’t,” she orders, causing you to flinch. you look at her with big, wet eyes.

“not yet,” she continues, flipping over the page in her notepad. you seem to understand, because you look away and sniff. when you look back to her, she steeles you with her hard gaze, “wait until they can’t see you.”

when abby gets home that night, she fights the urge to call. her fingers twitch around her phone, and she spends ten minutes staring at your contact screen. eventually, she goes to sleep, and tries not to think about the blank look you guised after her words. tries not to think about the way your shakey, blood covered fingers held the cigarette to your lips.

tries not to feel anything.

this is the job you signed up for, so why does abby feel bad?

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #detective!abby #ask #anon #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson x you #abby anderson fanfic #my writing

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saetoru · 2 years

Note

toji always fucks megumi’s girl but i want megumi to fuck toji’s girl :(

#𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 — 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈.

tags: nsfw 18+, aged up characters, fem! reader, mentions of age gaps (with toji), cheating (you on toji), mean megumi, dacryphilia, degradation (he calls you a whore), unprotected sex, overstimulation, edging, creampie, use of pet names (doll, princess, good girl)

notes: i should not…but i kinda like writing a cheater reader gjsfjsjfjf oops

megumi thinks it’s unfair—he’s always been told he looks exactly like his father, he’s obviously got way less…issues, and he’s so much closer in age to you. he can’t begin to comprehend why you’d pick someone as sleazy as fushiguro toji when the better fushiguro has been right here.

he can’t help the anger that festers up, can’t even attempt to fight back the sheer hatred that bubbles within him—he hates seeing you with his father, he hates you for picking his father over him, and he hates that every night, while you’re waiting for toji to come home, you let megumi take care of you—only to climb in bed with toji not long after.

he thinks tonight…well tonight is going to be different.

“g-gumi—wait,” you whimper, hand weakly pressing against his chest in a pathetic attempt to shove him. he clicks his tongue in distaste as his cock slips in and out of you brutally. there’s cum trickling down your thighs, cum coating the base of his dick, and the mess is proof of the many, many rounds you’ve fucked your boyfriend’s son like this. it shouldn’t be this way—but megumi is just so much like toji, but he’s softer around the edges, just a bit gentler and sweeter, just the right level of shy.

he growls, squeezing your cheeks together as you sniffle up at him with wobbly lips.

“what? can’t take one more? that’s bullshit. i hear you begging my dad for more very damn night, even after i fuck you full,” he hisses, snarling at you as you whine when his thumb rubs at your clit. you sob, fresh tears trickling down your puffy cheeks, and he thinks it’s a shame you look so pretty when you cry—you simply won’t be garnering any pity from him tonight when you look like that.

“too…too much, gumi,” you cry, gasping as his cock bullies it’s way past your folds in another thrust of his hips, his fat tip kissing your sweet spot and making your nails dig into his skin. “can’t,” you croak.

“oh yeah?” he raises a brow, hand only squeezing your cheeks together harder, making you let out a muffled whine in protest. “can’t, huh?” he pouts at you in faux sympathy, “just too much for you, is it doll?”

he’s almost disgusted by the taste of his father’s pet name for you rolling off his tongue, can almost taste the bile as he thinks about toji’s smug voice cooing at you every night. it drives him mad—quite possibly on the brink of insanity really, and his hips rut into you faster, almost animalistic as he grunts with a scowl.

“‘m sensitive,” you protest, and there are more tears that collect at your chin, dripping down the valley of your breasts as he watches your tits bounce with every slam of his hips. “p-please gumi, ‘m so—”

“you’ll take it,” he spits, interrupting your pleas. “you’ll take what i give you and then you’ll say thank you, won’t you?” he smiles, sinisterly as you let out a highly pitched squeal when he pinches your nipple. he leans down, attaching his lips to the other, sucking harshly and rolling his tongue around your pebbled bud. “you’ll take enough so that the old man can’t even open your legs without my cum spilling,” megumi grins, “and then you’ll tell him his little gumi here took such good care of you while he was gone—won’t you, princess?”

you squeeze around him at the pet name, making him scoff as he stares down at you in disgust. it makes fat tears roll down your face even faster, lips wobbling as you stare up at his expression. you want him to look at you the way he always does, with awe and kindness and love—the sweet, sweet look that only megumi gives you, not the smug grin toji usually offers.

he stops his thrusts, hissing as his stiff cock throbs painfully in your walls, taking a ragged breath before staring at you expectantly.

“w-why’d you stop?” you stutter, trying to roll your hips as your orgasm dies down, making him snort.

“thought you were begging me to just a minute ago,” he says incredulously, “you really are a whore, huh? greedy little thing, just need more and more—need both of us. one’s just not enough?”

“‘m not a whore,” you pout, making him chuckle lowly, shaking his head in amusement.

“if you say so,” he says—almost condescending, like he knows better than you do. “think i asked you a question though, didn’t i?”

he raises a brow when you stare up at him confused, tilting your head that lays against the plush mattress. megumi smirks, angling himself to slam deep into you once as warning, grunting when you cry out and run your nails against his shoulders.

“don’t make me repeat myself,” he warns, “you’ll tell my old man i took care of you tonight, won’t you?”

“y-yes! yes ‘m gonna tell ‘im,” you slur, teary eyes hazy and unfocused as you babble in agreement, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, feel him deeper. he starts rutting into you once more, the drag of his veins along your walls makes your head spin, mind blanking as his skin slaps against yours and his breath fans across your skin with every labored pant.

“that’s a good girl,” he coos, lips tugging in a victorious grin, eyes twinkling with amusement at how easy you are to crack. his thumb circles your clit as he pulls you into a kiss, and with a few more sloppy thrusts, you whine against his lips as you cum. he groans as you spasm around his cock, walls hugging him tightly as he rides you through your high.

“f-fuck, ‘m cumming gumi—for you,” you gasp, feeling him smile against your mouth.

“‘s right,” he chuckles, “for me. don’t you forget it, princess,” he grits, jaw clenching as his cock twitches as he nears his own orgasm. your hands roam along his body, feeling his taut muscles as they flex under your palm, and his face buries into the crook of your neck as he groans deeply. “shit, gonna cum, princess—g-gonna fill you up so good, you’ll never need him again.”

he lets out a soft whine into your neck, shuddering over you as he empties his load into your abused cunt, thick, hot ropes filling you up and painting your walls white. you whimper as he fucks himself into you through his peak, clinging to him from the overstimulation while he plants small kisses to your neck as he finishes.

it’s quiet for a moment—save for your pants as you catch your breath, and then megumi slumps himself over your tired body, cock still in you as it softens. you giggle at the slight tickle when his head tucks further into your neck and his nose brushes your skin.

“we should clean—” you’re cut off by the sound of the front door opening, familiar footsteps echoing through the halls and nearing you as you freeze—panic settling into your bones.

megumi only smirks as he flips you both over, so your head falls to his bare chest and the blanket just barely covers yours.

“nah, let’s stay like this a while,” he says slyly, “wanna see the look on his face when you tell him everything.”

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#thirsts.#megumi x reader #megumi smut #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut

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marshmallowdarling · 3 months

Note

Hi! I love reading your story's, can I request a yandere Hannibal x fem reader please?😊💕

It’s not surprising that Hannibal plays the long game but Hannibal also makes the game.

It was easy for him to set up the game, almost laughably easy. He was a renowned therapist who helps police on cases, strong, smart, made a name for himself- a good name. Your parents didn’t even have a chance to have doubts when he came to ask for your hand in marriage. If anything your parents were elated, over the moon that you, the black sheep of the family, had the eye of a man like Hannibal. They practically threw poor little you to into his hands.

One thing Hannibal likes is politeness, manners, and no matter when or how Hannibal had meet you he was struck with the need to understand you, figure you out and not in his usual killing urge type of way. After a few months or even years of following you around he finally realises what it is, love.

Does he really think its love? Not really, its something deeper, more sinister than love. He would rip apart anyone that would try to hurt you, he wants to keep you safe with such feral intensity it’s not sane. But he himself can’t even breathe at the thought of hurting you himself either so he chalks it up with a simple word. Love.

He should have seen it coming, really he should’ve since he had been watching and ‘protecting’ you for so long, but he’s still struck shocked when you fight back your holy matrimony with such pettiness and sass. You couldn’t stop your parents from practically forcing you to agree to marry him, getting dressed up in a dress you didn’t really care about, everything too grand and nothing like what the little girl in you envisioned. So, in retaliation you tried everything to get him to re-think his decision, anything to get him to divorce you, even if it meant being a sassy brat. Turning your nose up at his delicious food just to piss him off, doing little things you knew he hated just to push his buttons.

It’s cute, he thinks, really cute that you think being a brat would stop his heart from yearning for you so much his physically body aches being away from you. But you aren’t a brat, are you? Your just pretending because your sick of your parents stupid pressuring expectations, hating how they dictated every little thing in your life and now your ‘life’ partner.

Every time you push and shove and take bits and pieces of his sanity it just fuels his obsession for you, every time he feels himself get frustrated or irritated it just makes him more head over heels over you. Staring at you with hearts practically in his eyes as you make his blood boil, he takes everything in stride. With a polite smile on his lips and insanity in his heart eyes.

But he does feel bad, really he does, he feels bad that you have terrible no good rotten parents who are ready throw you to the wolves once they get their greed filled, or bad enough for a man who feels no remorse or guilt. Maybe its pity, he thinks, like how one looks at a wounded animal. But he could never see you at a level as an animal, no matter how adorably cute you are. Maybe a goddess then, a fallen goddess, he worships you as if you’re a goddess anyways, taking your sass and anger as some sort of twisted love from a holier being.

He can’t help the feeling of amusement that bubbles up when he see’s you try to be a brat, but the manners engraved into your very soul peek out, like your body and mind are fighting on your decision to pretend to be mean when your really such a sweet nice darling.

The little ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ that come out when you demand something from him or the sweet little ‘no thank you’ that you give him when you pretend to glare at him with faux hatred in your eyes, because you didn’t really hate him. How could you? He was unbelievably sweet and attentive, picking up on the little things you didn’t even know about yourself until he picks up on it. He was the best husband anyone could ask for, in and out, even if he could be a little serious, cold and calculative at times. Hannibal shields you from everyone, including your parents, shutting them down so quickly and efficiently when they start their bullshit of bringing you down it seems natural.

And one day your fake anger towards him slips, your tipsy on alcohol and his love, its all consuming but it feels oddly soothing, like cool balm on an open wound. You stumble and almost trip, but his arms are already there to catch you, ready to do anything to keep you safe and without thinking you lean up and press a soft, albeit clumsy, kiss on his lips.

Something in Hannibal snaps. The kiss, as quick and fleeting as it was felt like heaven. Like he was reborn, like for once in his life he could finally breathe.

You gave this dirty, blood-stained sinner a slice of heaven and now he’s your most devoted worshiper at your alter. For better, or for worse.

Hannibal has you pressed in a mean mating press, one of your legs thrown over his broad shoulders. The thin handmade anklet he got you for your wedding present, dainty and small, designed from start to finish by him with a little ‘H’ dangling on it chimes in his ear and makes his head spin.

“I- god- I love you so much.” He groans out, sweat clinging to his brow as his messy blonde hair sticks to his skin. “Goddess." He murmurs into your skin, pressing his lips against your ankle, kissing all the way up to the side of your knee as he saours the way your skin feels on his lips. Pulling back he licks your sweat that smeared on his lips and he smirks.

His pupils are wide and blown as he gazes down at you with so much love and tenderness it hurts. Sweat clung to his muscular frame as he threw his head back, groaning so low you feel it in your tummy.

Your in worse shape than him, yourpractically writhing under him, not able to escape the torturous pleasure as he puts all his weight down onto you. As sweaty if not more than him, twisting and bucking and shaking, hair messed and sprawled out on the bed beneath you, eye brows knitted. Your breath being selfishly stolen by him as he takes and takes, gasps the only thing able to leaven you as well as broken keens and whimpers. You had long stopped trying to muffle your embarrassingly lewd noises, he had practically growled at you to let them out, not letting you hide anything from him.

Sparks zing up your spine as he hits deep and a wail leaves you, your hand coming to push at his lower stomach, nails scratching over his muscles. Hannibal moans and his eyes roll at the feeling, quickly snatching your hand he slams it softly next to your head. His fingers entwining with his as he locks them together.

Long deep slow strokes makes your brain melt out of your ears, brain gone all fuzzy as you get addicted to him and his touch.

“Take it sweetheart, I know you can.” His breath hitches as he forces your thighs open wider to accommodate him, he looms over your more and the change of position makes you cry out. “Let me worship you my goddess, your mine, all mine.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Woo wee thats finally done! I hope my first proper attempt at smut was ok I think there was another ask for Hannibal but it was H/C's, I'LL GET TO YOU MY LOVELY I PROMISE 😭 Im trying to get back into writing but its hard, im sorry but I will get to you all. Some might be before others just because some things kick start my writing process 🥺 But please keep sending requests I love the ideas and support even if it takes me a bit to get to them. Hope you enjoy lovelies.

~Mwah ♡

#yandere #soft!yandere #tw yandere #darling core #chubby reader #yandere x reader #cw yandere #softyandere #soft yandere #yandere smut #yandere lemons #yandere hannibal lecter #yandere hannibal #tw.yandere #tw.dark content

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