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swordcreature · 5 months

Note

hiiii if youre open for requests I've got one I've been bouncing around in my head for a while.

how do you think Rolan and Gale would react to a lower intelligence/wisdom Tav who's self-conscious about it? they try and hide it, but eventually, it comes out; surely their Wizard would want someone who can keep up with what they're talking about, right? Tav is terrified thar one day the wizard is going to get fed up with how 'stupid' they are.

just some good ol hurt/comfort please ♡

okay so anon, this got away from me big time and before i knew it, gale's part was like 1,700 words. so um. yeah. i would also really like to do one for rolan still because it's such a good prompt, do if you'd still be interested, lmk!

i can cut back on length too. this one just felt so much more than like HC's or a small drabble lol

Trepidation

Gods, they never wanted it to happen like this. Never wanted it to happen at all if they were being honest. Tav had worked so hard at building this new version of themself – one that had gone to a proper school, gotten an actual education, knew how to read and write. One that wasn’t so stupid.

Tags: GN!Tav, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Deprecation

Word Count: 1,718 [AO3]

Tav could somehow still hear Astarion’s laughter in their ears, despite having run away from camp at least an hour ago. Did he follow them here? Surely not, he was doubled over, practically on the ground, when Tav had made their escape. Hot tears stung the corners of their eyes, replaying the way their companions had all stared – full of pity and secondhand embarrassment.

Especially Gale.

And with one foul swoop it all came crashing down. Tav wished, half-heartedly at best, that Astarion’s next meal would bleed him dry first. It would serve him right, they thought. If he hadn’t insisted, pushed them, to “read aloud for the rest of the class, dear”, they would have never been in this mess.

Of course it was bound to happen sooner or later, they knew this. They couldn’t hide their intelligence, or lack thereof, forever. But it didn’t help the embarrassment, the deep-seated shame that crept up their spine at the thought of facing everyone back at camp. At facing Gale.

How could he even look them in the eye after all this? After everything they’ve shared – the night under his magic sky, the mornings together in his tent, the goddess hell bent on his self-sacrifice – how could he possibly still want them, knowing how little they measure up in comparison – how dull they were where he was bright?

The decrepit tree line rustled just beyond where Tav sat, knees pulled to chest. Their head jerked upright, fear prickling up their neck. If there was one thing the universe knew, it was how to hit Tav when they’re down. They cast their gaze downward as Gale stepped over the dead underbrush and into the small clearing.

“I was hoping I’d find you here,” he said, voice tinged with sympathy. Tav grit their teeth but remained quiet. “It’s too dangerous to be out here alone, blessing or not. Surely you’d know better-”

Tav let out a bitter laugh, more tears spilling down their cheeks. “Know better? Well that was your first mistake, Gale. Haven’t you heard? I’m an imbecile.” A sob was forced from their lips, their body shuddering.

“A poor choice of words, Tav. I’m sorry.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper. Tav wanted to be held so very badly, wanted Gale to reach out and pull them into his arms. What a cruel world Tav found themself in where the one person they wanted the most was also the one person they wanted to be farthest from.

“May I?” He motioned to the space next to Tav. They nodded, still avoiding eye contact as Gale took a seat beside them.

Both sat in an uneasy silence. Tav feared the moment Gale might speak, unsure if they could keep themself together as he ended their budding relationship. They braced themself as he opened his mouth.

“What Astarion did was abhorrent. You should not have had to endure that,” he began. Tav wrapped their arms around their body as though they might be able to hold their chest together when the shoe finally dropped.

“And though the more impulsive side of me wished to incinerate him then and there for what he did,” his lips quirked up into the tiniest smile at the thought, “I can assure you that he was given a thorough talking to by not only myself, but also Karlach, Shadowheart, and even Wyll, for how he treated you. You should expect an apology when you return to camp.”

While the sentiment was sweet, Tav found themself angry at Gale for the cordial way he spoke when they both knew what was to come. Their face twisted as they stared, willing him to speak further – to get out with it already.

Gale took the hint to keep talking. “Of course, if you desire to be out here longer that is more than alright, though I do ask that you let me accompany you. I know you may want to be alone, but I’d be remiss to leave you here by yourself in such a danger-”

“Gale,” Tav pleaded. “Please stop.”

A wrinkle formed between Gale’s brow as it furrowed, one that Tav saw when he was in the heat of battle or concentrating on a spell. They wanted to smooth it over with their thumb, like they had so many times before.

“Stop? I don’t quite understand?”

“Stop acting like everything is okay!” Tav wasn’t sure if the tears spilling down their cheeks were new, or if they had just been crying the entire time. “Just... I can’t take this. I know what happened was embarrassing, I know that I'm not what you signed up for, but you can’t coddle me out of pity.” Tav tried to steady the thundering heartbeat in their ears with a deep breath. “Just get it over with and let me be. Please.” The last word came out a whisper, begging for mercy.

Gale’s eyes flickered back and forth, searching their face as though he would find his next words written somewhere on it. Tav wasn’t sure if he had found what he was looking for, but he did find something; grabbing their face between two large hands, he turned them towards him.

“Tav,” he started, gently commanding them to meet his gaze. “Do you think I came out here to...to put an end to what we’ve started? To squash the beginnings of our... our love over something so trivial?”

Tav opened their mouth to speak but words failed them in the moment. Luckily, Gale had always been the one with a talent for the verbose, between the two of them.

“Do you think me so fickle that my desires for you would be dashed because you can’t parse the written word? After everything we’ve been through?” His eyes were wide, vulnerable. It reminded them of the night he confessed his love, under the sky he made just for them. “How could you think me a man worthy of loving if I only concerned myself with one, singular aspect of your being? Surely you know me better.”

It took everything Tav had left to find the courage to speak.

“Gale it’s not- you're not,” words still seemed to elude them though. Their eyes scanned the bleak sky above for an answer. “How could you possibly want an idiot like me? I’ve never been to school, never been able to read a proper book. Sometimes, when you speak, you use words I don’t know and I try. I try so hard to act as your equal but I’m not.” Tav has the distinct urge to run. Or to puke. They aren’t sure which one is stronger. “How could I ever be your equal?”

Gale’s mouth was, perhaps, more forceful than he intended as he brought their lips to his for a firm kiss. He held them there against his mouth for a long moment, before pulling back just enough to speak.

“You’re not my equal. You are so much more than that, Tav. Not a word exists in all the languages of all the realms that could describe just how above me you are.” Tav wanted to stop him, to protest, but Gale silenced them with another chaste kiss.

“Your kindness is without limit, your generosity unparalleled. Your heart is more precious than any jewel known to man, and yet you share a piece of it with every person you meet, and probably least deserving of all, me.” He kissed the corners of their mouth, then their chin. “And for the record, I do not think you are unintelligent, you give yourself so little credit. You may lack a traditional education, but you hold a blade unlike any other I’ve seen. You lead as though you were a general in a past life, none of us would have made it thus far without you. If intelligence is only books and fancy words, then I’m afraid holds no meaning.” Gale leaned his forehead against theirs. “No meaning that I find worth in, at least,” he quickly added.

Gale was but a smudge of purple and brown in front of Tav as tears clouded their vision. Were they happy? Sad? Relieved? They couldn’t tell. The knot in their chest ached with a mix of emotions as they tried to gulp down air.

“And what of the future? When you’re bored and tired of a partner who can’t keep up with you? When you want someone who can challenge you, oppose you?” Gale’s smile was bright, as though they just said a joke and not one of their deepest fears.

“You certainly challenge me enough as is, my love. If I ever seek a partner who contradicts and disputes me more than you do, I fear I may have gone insane.” Gale reached out to grab their shoulders, pulling them to sit in his lap with their head tucked under his chin. “I love you, Tav. Every version of you, the parts you show me, and the parts I’ve yet to learn. I love them all with a ferocity I’ve never known the likes of before. Please, if there is one thing you trust, trust in that fact.”

Tav could only nod, their chest open and raw, held together by Gale’s sweet words. Some part of them did not believe him: a tiny inkling of fear that said a man of Gale’s intellect could never love someone like them. But Tav shoved down that part, deep inside where they were sure it would stay insignificant and small, and not fester into something more, something dangerous and insidious.

So, they chose to believe him – trusted in the way he loved them.

They sat in Gale’s warm embrace until the chill from the shadows surrounding them crept into their bones, urging them back to the safety of camp. Tav decided, with Gale’s hand tucked into their own, that they could live with feeling unintelligent, as long as they always felt this loved.

#bg3 #my writing #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale of waterdeep #requests/suggestions

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zeroducks-2 · 7 months

Note

Hi, could I please request a Slade/Dick with 16? Thank you!

Coming up :D

This is also for @madamesmoke, for @anawrites3, and for the lovely anons that wanted Dick to have babies of his own after what happened here :3

16. "Finally at peace" Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson

Dick pats his coat for the keys while walking up the last two flights of stairs, hoping he hadn't left them in his lighter jacket. Hot as it still is in Chicago, the rain's been consistently preventing him from bringing Wally's kids to the park, having to hang out at home with them while on babysitting duty.

Not that he complained overall. Things were going pretty well in the last couple of months, especially with the whole thing he and Slade apparently have going on. The sex is great and the night outs among the best Dick had in years, and Slade's apartment is way nicer than Dick's shared room anyway.

Nightwing's business in Chicago is almost done though, and soon he's going to have to go back to Bludhaven. Not that there's anything that compels him; he lost his job as a cop, had to close his gym, won't be able to do social work anymore... but the apartment there is his, while the room in Chicago is rented and expensive and he's not even been using it, so he doesn't have much of a choice there.

Oh well. He supposed he'll think about it later, for now he just wants to take off the Nightwing suit he's still wearing under his civvies, grab a shower and sleep for a few hours. Maybe Slade is already home, that would also be great.

Finally at peace, he thinks with a satisfied sigh once the door is locked behind his back, closing his eyes for a blessed moment before taking off his raincoat. Only then he hears a sound which makes him jump out of his skin, then quickly collect himself and sprint towards the living room. It's the sound of a baby crying. A second one joins not even three full seconds later, and Dick almost kicks the door open to Slade, in full Deathstroke suit, holding a fucking bag from which the crying is coming from.

«Come give me a hand.» The man says, unfazed and with a level tone like he'd just walked in with Mcdonalds. He did just walk in, using the window apparently, and is currently dripping all over the carpeted floor.

And despite wanting to scream from the top of his lungs and shake the other by his neck, Dick's instincts to make sure the babes are okay kick in, and he's ripping them off of Slade's arms a moment later, then out of that bag, and then he's rushing to the bathroom.

Five minutes later they've both calmed down. They're about six months old, with big eyes and curly brown hair, and mahogany dark skin. Dick keeps making soothing noises while checking them over, gently pressing on their little palms to check their reflexes, waving a finger before their eyes to see if they follow. They're kicking and vocalizing, and reflexively smiling. They're okay.

«Jesus christ, Slade.» He says with a sigh, trying not to get agitated again. He realized the man is hovering on the doorframe, half his suit taken off, surveilling the scene. «You gave me a stroke. You can't walk in with babies in a bag...»

«It was raining.» The man replies with a small shrug like it was the most normal thing ever. «They're alright, hm? Alive and breathing. And dry.»

Dick is about to answer but one of the babies grabs his thumb and makes an excited little noise, and Dick smiles and turns to them with an approving hum. The other is busy chewing on their own tiny fist.

«Yeah, they... seem okay.» Dick admits as Slade walks in and wraps an arm around his waist. Dick feels more tension leaving him as the man's solid presence presses against his side. «Thank god. Sorry, I... overreacted. We should bring them to their parents now, though.»

«I'm afraid that's not possible.» Slade leans down with a small frown and kisses the top of Dick's head. «There was a fire today near a church downtown. Kids got evacuated from the orphanage. I just took these two while I was going away.»

«What...?» Dick blinks, and this time he doesn't react to the baby cooing for him. «You did... what?»

«I figured I could take care of them for a while.» Slade leans down and kisses the top of his head again. «Look at this.» He lifts one of the little one's feet, ignoring the way they kick, and exposing a plastic tag tied to their ankle. «You know what this means, right?»

Dick was too busy looking for injuries and didn't realize, but yes, he knows what it means. «They're metas.» He observes with a frown and Slade hums again.

«I can take care of them better than whoever runs that orphanage. And their genes make it almost impossible for them to get adopted.»

That's... true. Dick is aware of the heartbreaking fact that children with metagenes get often abandoned if the parents find out soon, and the foster system is not equipped to take proper care of them and find them good homes. Which is why so many criminals are metas. Dick hates it, but he still hasn't found a viable way to help with the issue.

«I'll go get some formula in a moment.» Slade is saying, letting the babe play with his fingers. «Let me just take off the rest of the suit. There's a night shop just around the corner.»

«No, it's... it's fine. I'll go.» Dick says, feeling his heart beat somewhat fast. He can't tell Slade what to do with these babies, can he? It's his own choice if he wants to adopt them. Like... Dick himself has no say in it, and even if he doesn't think that Slade has been a good parent to his own kids, he surely won't mention it to the man.

And it's true, at least they wouldn't be in the foster system. It's better like this, isn't it...? They're better off with Slade even if the man is... well, Deathstroke.

«Are you sure?» Slade looks at him, unaware of the turmoil. «You look tired, sweetheart. You can go to bed if you want, I'll take care of this.» Saying that he leans down and touches their foreheads together, and Dick's heart beats even faster, bringing him to rise on his tiptoes for a kiss.

«I'm sure.» He says with a half smile, reaching into the touch on his cheek as the man's rough hand comes up to cup it. «I'll go. They need formula and baby food, they're likely being weaned... and also diapers, and probably some clothes. I'm not going to find everything tonight though, I think. I'll do what I can.»

Slade is smiling at him in a way that makes Dick flustered. He doesn't know why, but ever since that day he accidentally bumped into Slade at the park, the man keeps looking at him like Dick was the most precious person in the world, and he never knows how to take it.

«Grab what you can. I'll clean these two up in the meantime, they need a bath.» Slade says, and Dick smiles back and hurries away, hoping his stupid heart stops fluttering.

«Slade...?» He calls once he has his jacket on, smiling again as he hears him singing to the children in a half voice.

«Yes, little bird?»

«Do you...» He peeks into the bathroom again, not really know how to put it. «Do you mind if I stay here a bit longer? In Chicago I mean. I should go back to Bludhaven next week, as I was telling you the other day, but... maybe you need help. With the kids.»

«Why not.» Slade replies casually, still focused on the two little ones. «I could surely use a hand, and you know how to take care of tiny humans already.»

Dick breathes in relief, nods and hurries down to get the formula and everything else.

Thank you for the prompt confusedshades ♥ the baby saga continues lol.

Here's the prompt list for whoever wants to peruse it, or send me another prompt :)

#long post #obviously this was a ploy - Slade HOPED that Dick was going to stay once seeing the babies #he never planned to raise them alone #he would have given them away to someone trustworthy if Dick was going to leave anyway #but he acted it out quite well and Dick suspects nothing - he thinks staying it's his idea. He's going to get babytrapped yeah #my asks #my fanfictions #sladick #three words prompt game

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hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf · 2 years

Text

Boss

This isn’t a one-off.

ceo!jisung x overworked admin!minho

Trigger Warnings: N/A (pls let me know if i’m missing something though!)

Content Warnings: names (slut, whore, bitch, good boy, sir), degradation, hair pulling, biting (kinda?), anal, light spanking (literally twice lmao), brat!jisung, dom!minho, they fuck in the handicap stall after hours

Summary: minho puts his bratty boss jisung in his place

Word Count: 5350

A/N: i tried to make it short, i really did, but i couldn’t help myself. anyways, god bless you for requesting this. i still have one slot left for the 2022 pride event! give me a follow here or on my main (and consider turning on those post notifications!) and check out my ko-fi, where i take commissions! as always, hard thoughts are open, anons welcome! also y’all, after discussing this with one of my beta readers, i’m considering making this one a series cause i have several thoughts lmao anyways enjoyyyyyy

Tags: @hyuckilstan @mork-ly @spiderlilyfics

Next->

Smut below the cut

Han Jisung, quite possibly one of the youngest CEOs to ever grace the covers of the most popular entrepreneurial magazines, was untouchable. He’d become an overnight sensation in the technology and events industries. He had a monopoly on the technical needs for events country-wide, everyone flocking to his ever-growing company to meet their AV and tech needs.

Because of his soaring popularity, he was always on the lookout for fresh talent to hire in. Despite his workload being much heavier than when he started his company, he still handled the hiring process himself, with only minimal input from the various department heads and Human Resources. He fully believed in getting to know his employees and conducting interviews himself felt more…intimate, for lack of a better word.

He was surprised when a gorgeous young man gently tapped at the frosted glass of his office door and peeked inside. Who was he? Jisung didn’t recall interviewing such a beauty.

“Can I help you?” His tone was far more gruff than he intended as he hung the phone back on the receiver.

“Hello, Mr. Han.” The man greeted with a forced smile. “Mr. Lee in HR sent me.”

“Right, the new administrative assistant?” The man nodded as Jisung sat up straighter in his chair. “What’s your name?”

“Lee Minho, sir.” Something about the way the newcomer - Minho, as he now knew him - addressed him lit a spark in his belly. “Mr. Lee said I ought to report to you instead of the front desk. May I ask why, sir?”

Jisung took a moment to appreciate the way Minho’s suit hugged all the right places before narrowing his gaze as he recalled the name he was given. “We filled all admin roles last week but your resume was too impressive to pass up. Given your skill, I couldn't let you slip by. You’re with me until the original role is open.”

Minho bristled and forced another smile. “Ah, I see. Well, sir, I look forward to working with you.” He offered his hand, which Jisung gripped tightly and shook. His touch lingered for a moment too long and Minho quickly recoiled, bringing his hand back to the folder he held against his chest.

“The feeling is mutual.” Jisung murmured after a few beats of silence, leaning back in his seat and crossing his left leg over his right as he continued to openly admire Minho’s physique. Finally, he let out a soft sigh and made a shooing motion. “Your desk is the vacant one just outside my office. Get set up and complete your onboarding. I’ll give you more tasks once you’re done with that.”

————————————

Minho was far from thrilled. It had been almost eight months of blatant ogling and menial tasks from his boss and he’d grown to resent him. This wasn’t the job he applied for and he wasn’t some piece of meat to be drooled over. He wasn’t blind, Jisung was definitely attractive, but he was extremely unprofessional and stomping every boundary Minho tried to set.

His frustrations were beginning to appear in the workplace and Jisung was beginning to notice. The irritation on his face every time Jisung called him to his office didn’t go unnoticed and it was beginning to annoy the younger. It was a vicious cycle, the two of them acting as sounding boards for the negative energy that bounced between them until one day it reached a crescendo.

“Lee, with me, now.” Jisung barked down the line, not waiting for a response before hanging up the phone. It was the end of the week and he had Minho putting in overtime every Friday so he could work comfortably during the peak season.

Minho let out a sigh and fought the urge to slam the handset onto the receiver. Instead, he took a deep breath and clenched his jaw as he gingerly hung up the phone. He stood from his desk and made his way to Jisung’s office, tapping lightly on the glass. “Come in.” He pushed the door open and walked to the front of Jisung’s desk, standing before him with his hands folded neatly in front of him.

“Yes, sir? How can I help you?” He offered up that same fake smile and Jisung wanted to wipe it right off his pretty face.

“I have a dinner to attend tonight.” O…kay? How does that concern me? “You’re my plus one.” Shit.

“But, sir, I have-”

“I don’t care. You’re coming with me.” Minho gritted his teeth but nodded. “Count it as overtime. We leave in twenty so wrap up what you’re doing and get ready to go.”

He couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. He rushed to the bathroom and slammed his hands down by the sink in frustration as he let out a curse. “Does he think being pretty excuses that shitty attitude? Obnoxious bastard. Who the fuck does he think he is anyways?” He spat, turning the water on. This was the first time in a month he was supposed to see his mother.

“I beg your pardon?” His head snapped up to reveal Jisung standing in the doorway. He felt a burst of courage though and he suddenly didn’t care if he lost this job.

“You heard me loud and clear from the look on your face.” He rolled his eyes as he shook his hands mostly dry and turned off the water. “Do you think you can dictate what I do on the weekend?” He turned to face Jisung as he grabbed a paper towel.

“I think I dictate when your workday ends,” Jisung crossed his arms over his chest - an annoyingly distracting gesture as his muscles flexed under his white button down. “And you’re not off the clock until the dinner is over.”

“How often do you see your mother, Mr. Han?” Minho sighed. He still won’t call him by name. He was angry but he didn’t have a death wish - which he feared Jisung would fulfill if he gave any more perceived disrespect. He’d seen the man go on a tirade. He may no longer care about this job but he still cared about keeping his head on his shoulders. He dropped the paper towel into the trash as he walked towards the door. “You seem like a good little mama’s boy. I’m sure you see her at least twice a week.” He paused but continued when Jisung didn't respond despite the vein in his forehead looking fit to burst. “Some of us don’t get that. And some of us are having to miss out on that again after a month of almost nonexistent contact because of a job that wears us down with how much shit we have to do and stupid dinners we have to attend as boss’s arm candy. Surely you can see my frustration now, sir.”

He pushed past the man blocking the door and frowned when he felt a hand on his arm. “It’s an opportunity for you to network, Minho.” His voice was somewhat more gentle despite his visible irritation.

“Let’s just go.” He sighed and pulled away, heading towards his desk to grab his keys and wallet.

Jisung was almost indignant over the way Minho had spoken to him but he managed to hold himself together as he did his business and went to get his things. It was all of five minutes before they were making their way towards the elevator. “Text my driver and tell him to bring the car around.”

Minho clenched his jaw and pulled out his phone, sending the text before messaging his mom an explanation and an apology. “Done.”

When they reached the lobby, Minho smiled brightly at the receptionist, Mr. Hwang, who was chatting with Mr. Lee. “Bye Hyunjin, bye Felix.” He winked and they both turned, smiling and waving, offering warm goodbyes. Cute. Both of them were honestly fucking adorable and he wouldn’t mind spending a testosterone-fueled night with one or both of them.

Minho held the door for Jisung as they stepped outside, his smile vanishing instantly. Jisung didn’t have time to ask any questions before his car pulled up. “Seo.” He greeted with a curt nod as he slid into the backseat. Minho went for the front but Jisung called for him to sit in the back and he slid in with a sigh.

“Evening, Bin.”

“Evening, Minho.” Changbin greeted, flashing a smile through the mirror before turning his attention to Jisung. “Where to, boss?”

Once en route, Changbin made several attempts to break the tension in the car but to no avail. After ten minutes of silence and stolen glares, he gave up and popped a piece of gum in his mouth. Five more minutes. You can ask Minho about it later, but hold on for the next five minutes.

————————————

Jisung had consumed just a little too much alcohol over the course of the meal and he was feeling bold. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that he had a thing for Minho. Minho, however, couldn’t stand him and it was driving him up the wall. At least that’s how Jisung saw it. Minho was the only one who wouldn’t bend to his will; the only one who told him no. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed their little spat in the bathroom earlier.

Minho didn’t actually hate Jisung, he just hated that Jisung couldn’t take any advice or criticism without getting pissy. And he hated that Jisung couldn’t seem to keep his wandering eyes (and hands) off of him at work. If Jisung could act less…gay?…obvious? at work, he wouldn’t have an issue with him.

Alas, that seemed to be too much to ask as Jisung leaned towards Minho, inching closer every few minutes until they were hip to hip and Jisung was about to lay his head on Minho’s shoulder. Just before he could, one of the men stood and announced his departure, leading to everyone following suit.

With Jisung tipsy, Minho took it upon himself to call for Changbin. Minho blindly slapped at Jisung's hand when it moved to his thigh under the table. He settled the bill and urged Jisung to stand, leading him out the door. He wasn’t touching him but he was nearby just in case Jisung ate shit on the pavement. He opened the back door and waited for Jisung to get in the car before sliding in beside him. “Can you take us back to the office? I need to get my car.”

“Sure thing, I can drop you off.” Changbin hummed and started towards the office. It took all of ten minutes since traffic had cleared during dinner and Minho gave Changbin a quiet ‘thanks’ as he exited the car. Jisung followed him without his knowledge, telling Changbin he needed something from his office and he’d hitch a ride with Minho.

Minho was gathering things from his desk when he heard the footsteps. He quickly ran for the bathroom, trying to avoid Jisung. The man had tried to get too familiar with him at dinner and he was about to unravel. He could not be alone with Jisung. Not if he wanted to keep his job - which he’d decided was worth keeping if for no other reason than to spruce up his résumé.

Jisung knew what Minho was doing and followed him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Lee.” He called, staring at Minho’s shoes peeking out from the handicap stall. He wasn’t anywhere near the toilet so he was clearly hiding.

“What, boss?” Minho sighed.

“Come out here.”

“I’m using the bathroom.”

“Unless you’ve mastered pissing from the other side of the stall, no you’re not. Now get out here.”

Minho let out an exasperated sigh as he opened the stall door, crossing his own arms like Jisung. “What do you want? Unless this is about work, I’m not interested in discussing anything.”

“Is there a problem here, Minho?” There he goes again, using his first name like he knows him personally. “Your attitude has sucked since the day you got here and it’s getting worse.”

“And you’re any better?” Shit. That slipped out before he could stop it.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He was indignant again. Cute.

“Look, I understand that you’re used to getting everything you want, you’ve built an empire and all, but you really need to start acting normal in the office.” Now he just looked puzzled. “You’ve been fucking me with your eyes since the day I set foot in your office and it’s obvious to everyone that you want me. Make it less obvious.”

Indignance. It was a beautiful thing on Jisung. He looked flustered and angry and flattered and perplexed all at once as he sputtered out some sort of denial. “Lee Minho, don’t you fucking dare speak to me like that.” His voice was shrill as he marched up to Minho, standing toe to toe with him. His chest was heaving with his labored breaths as he began to completely lose his cool. “I’m the boss.”

“Are you?” Minho’s voice was like melted caramel; smooth, rich, and sweet - though that last part was fake. Jisung’s eyes widened at Minho’s sudden boldness and he took a step back, looking like he wanted to make a break for it the second Minho followed him. He couldn’t though. Minho’s arms were already around him, holding him in place. “Now you wanna run from me after you chased me down to argue? That’s not how this works, Ji.”

The nickname irritated him and Jisung narrowed his eyes as he swatted Minho’s chest. “You can’t call me that. I’m the boss.”

“No you’re not.” Minho offered up his signature smirk, feeling Jisung slump slightly in his arms in response. “You wanted me. Now you get me. Can you really handle me?”

“Of course I can.” Jisung blurted out before he could stop himself and compose a proper response. He couldn’t pass up a challenge.

“Oh really?”

“Of course.” No going back now.

“Last chance to back out, Ji.”

Something about Minho’s tone made the sentence feel ominous and Jisung wanted to tuck tail and run. But he couldn’t back down and he couldn’t let Minho do whatever he wanted. He couldn’t let Minho take control and call him a nickname, especially when he’d yet to hear his full name from his lips. “No.” He shook his head and locked eyes with Minho, who suddenly looked like a predator hunting its prey, waiting for his next move.

“No?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No, I'm not backing out.”

“You did this to yourself.” Minho shrugged before backing Jisung against the nearest hard surface, which just so happened to be the wall of the handicap stall Minho had just been hiding in. He held him there and everything went still as he stared into his eyes for a moment. That stillness shattered like glass as soon as his gaze flitted to Jisung’s lips.

He didn’t kiss him, opting to attack his neck instead. He decided Jisung made the prettiest sounds and he was determined to make him sob his name in that pretty, desperate voice. “M-Minho-” Jisung gasped while baring his neck to the other.

“You can’t call me that. I’m the boss.” He mocked, earning a huff from the younger. He hummed against Jisung’s skin in thought as his lips left slick spots on his neck before he finally spoke again. “Sir will do though.”

“S-SIR?” Jisung shrieked incredulously.

“Yes, baby?” Okay, that threw him for a loop. He couldn't stifle the sound he made in response and he felt Minho smirk against his skin. “Oh, you like that?” Did he?

He decided he did. But he couldn’t tell Minho that. “Ugh, no...” he mumbled, a blatant lie. Minho could tell Jisung was enjoying the power struggle here - though Jisung was the only one truly struggling with the power dynamic; Minho knew he was in control, it was Jisung who needed convincing.

“Oh? Well I guess if you don’t like it then we should stop here.” Minho shrugged and pulled back, feigning disinterest as Jisung balked. Not only was Jisung not prepared to give up his chance to actually feel Minho, he was panicking at the thought that Minho didn’t actually want him and was just playing with him.

He was playing with him, of course, but the disinterest was entirely fake. He had eyes. He knew a rare beauty when he saw one. He couldn’t pass up this opportunity. He just hoped Jisung would recognize that this would only work if he let Minho take over.

Minho made a move to step away but the second Jisung felt his warmth disappearing, he made another disgruntled sound as his expression jumped from shocked to frustrated. “No.” He grunted, his hands fisting in the front of Minho’s shirt and yanking him in, crashing their lips together.

Minho was surprised, albeit pleasantly, as Jisung nipped at his lips, fully displaying his desperation. He chuckled softly against his lips and wrapped his hands around Jisung’s wrists, pulling them out from between them as he pressed almost all his weight against Jisung. The younger man let out a whine but allowed his hands to drop to his sides, shivering when he realized his compliance earned him a soft bite to his bottom lip. Maybe he could let Minho have a little control.

Jisung’s delight didn’t last, however, and he let out a choked noise of distress as Minho backed away again. “Stop running!” He whined in protest, trying to chase Minho’s lips, which he’d decided he couldn’t live without, at least for tonight. They felt so good against his own and he couldn’t fathom going home and going to bed tonight without tasting more of him.

Minho couldn’t stifle his laughter as he wrapped a hand around Jisung’s neck and pushed him back against the wall, making all the other stall doors shake with the force of Jisung crashing back against it. “Stop chasing!” He mocked, watching in amusement as Jisung’s eyes widened in alarm.

Jisung’s hands wrapped around Minho’s forearm but he didn’t push him away or pull him closer. He simply held on. “M-Minho, stop playing…”

“That’s not my name, baby.” Minho raised a perfectly-groomed eyebrow in challenge and saw Jisung starting to cave. “Who am I?” Jisung didn’t answer but his resolve was rapidly crumbling and Minho could tell. He didn’t have to fully give way just yet, Minho knew he wouldn’t fully relinquish power until it served him, but he had to back down if he wanted anything else. “Tick tock, baby, I’m getting bored.” Lies. “Who am I?” Jisung clenched his jaw and refused to speak.

Until Minho started to back off again. “S-sir…” he mumbled, averting his gaze as Minho inched closer.

“What was that, baby? You’re too quiet.”

“Sir…” his voice was louder but still squeaky, meek in his delivery. That would do for now though.

“That’s right, baby.” His grip on Jisung’s throat loosened and he allowed his fingers to tease his jaw. He took in Jisung’s pretty flush, which covered his face and ears, even disappearing beneath his shirt collar. “And who’s in charge right now?”

“You are…” Jisung mumbled, tacking on a ‘sir’ for good measure. He needed Minho to stop playing and get him off.

“I think you’re finally starting to understand.” Minho mocked in a condescending tone, making Jisung’s irritation grow. He watched as the younger tried to control himself and cooed when he managed to keep his cool. “See? That’s not so bad, is it? Letting me take control, I mean. Not too bad?” His tone was more coaxing than anything else now. Jisung nodded slowly and watched as Minho softened a bit. “Good boy.”

Jisung couldn’t dream of stifling his whimper at the name, his knees going weak. He recovered quickly and slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide as saucers as he processed what had just happened. He didn’t mean to give himself away like that. That was supposed to be a secret, at least for now.

Minho decided to take pity on him and held his laughter, leaning closer and slipping his leg between Jisung’s. He released Jisung’s throat and took the younger’s hand away from his mouth before tilting his head up with one finger on his chin. “You’re too cute, baby.” He whispered, taking in the way Jisung crumbled at his touch when he pressed his thigh against his crotch. “Now, do you think you can cooperate for a little while so we can fix this?”

Jisung nodded almost instantly, not caring if he looked desperate anymore. Minho had already started breaking him down and he needed to be filled. “Please, Min- I mean sir… Please, sir.” He corrected himself quickly and Minho let out a hum of approval.

“Under normal circumstances, I’d ask what you want and how you want it, but since you couldn’t seem to behave, I think it’s time you learned your lesson.” Minho sneered as he untucked Jisung’s pristine white shirt and began undoing every last button. Jisung’s eyes shifted to watch Minho’s hands unbutton his shirt and he sucked a pouty lip between his teeth. Minho’s mouth watered as honey-colored skin came into view. Fuck this better become a regular thing. I’m not gonna be able to function around him after this without the promise of more.

“L-learned my lesson?” Jisung lifted his head, making eye contact with Minho for only a brief moment before looking somewhere, anywhere else.

“You got a big head and I’m going to humble you.” Minho hummed as he raked his nails down Jisung’s surprisingly-muscular torso, drawing out a pathetic whimper. He pulled back and Jisung looked panicked again but seemed to relax when Minho spun him to face the cubicle wall.

He instinctively arched his back, allowing his face and chest to press against the solid plastic partition. His hands braced him against the cool surface and he shuddered when he felt Minho close the short distance between them, hard-on nestled between his cheeks through the all-too-bothersome material of their slacks.

“That’s a good boy.” He praised, his voice a whisper right beside Jisung’s ear as his arms wrapped around the younger’s toned middle. He let one hand linger on the warm skin of Jisung’s belly while the other moved upwards, fingers pressing against Jisung’s pillowy lips. “Open.” Jisung’s mouth fell open instantly and he greedily took Minho’s fingers, swirling and flicking his tongue as he sucked on them.

Minho was unbearably hard and began to rut against Jisung’s ass, earning soft sighs and moans. His free hand slid down Jisung’s belly and began to fiddle with his belt, undoing it with minimal effort before popping the button of his slacks. Jisung pressed back against him before allowing his hips to surge forwards in an attempt to find some sort of relief from Minho’s hand at his zipper.

Minho immediately pressed down on Jisung’s tongue, his fingers reaching just far enough back that the pressure made him gag. “Patience.” Jisung responded with a muffled ‘uh uh’ and Minho slapped his thigh. “Watch yourself.” Jisung whined impatiently and Minho slapped his ass. “Keep it up and I’ll leave you right here, just like this, hard as a rock and frustrated beyond belief. Don’t push me.” His voice was menacing but Minho was anything but finished with him. There was no way in hell he was leaving without taming the brat in front of him.

Jisung deflated at the idea of not getting fucked and begrudgingly settled down, sucking harder on Minho’s fingers and biting down softly from time to time. He perked up at the groan Minho let slip in response to a particularly hard bite and grew more enthusiastic in his efforts as his pants were pushed down just enough to expose something that made Minho’s eyes roll back in his skull. Minho ducked his head against Jisung’s shoulder, inhaling deeply to take in his scent - Versace Dylan Blue - in an attempt to collect himself.

“What’s this, baby?” He groaned, snapping the waistband of Jisung’s black cotton thong against his hip and making him jump. He didn’t expect an answer, he didn’t really care what Jisung had to say; he was just trying to keep himself in check.

Jisung whined around the pretty fingers in his mouth and tried to force them out but Minho pressed on his tongue and made him gag again. Still, Jisung tried to speak. Minho sighed and lifted his head as he retracted his fingers from Jisung’s mouth, tracing his slick middle finger over the younger’s plump bottom lip. Jisung emitted a soft moan at the touch before smirking. “You asked what this is,” he started, wiggling his ass against Minho’s almost-painful erection. “It’s part of my plan.”

“Oh so you intended for me to plow you in the handicap stall after hours?” Minho deadpanned and Jisung shrugged.

“I dunno exactly how I wanted it to go down, but I was determined to fuck you tonight.”

“You? Fuck me?” Minho snorted and Jisung’s ears burned. “No, baby, I’m the one fucking you. Don’t get it twisted, sweetheart.” As if to punctuate his statement, he stepped back and pulled Jisung’s thong aside, pressing his thoroughly-soaked fingers against his hole.

He intended to massage his entrance to relax him before working him open but Jisung forced himself onto Minho’s fingers with what was possibly the sluttiest moan he’d ever heard. “F-fuck…” his whimper made Minho’s cock twitch in anticipation, his mind conjuring up images of Jisung moaning and begging on his dick. “Hurry up, Minho, I want you inside me sometime this century!” Jisung’s goading made Minho see red for a moment and he found himself grabbing a fistful of the younger’s hair as he began to finger fuck him. There was the brat from earlier.

“Impatient little whore.” He spat, pulling Jisung’s head back against his shoulder. “What did I fucking tell you?” Jisung moaned freely, not bothering to answer. “We play by my rules or we don’t play at all. Understood, bitch?” He felt Jisung’s hole flutter around him and scoffed. “You like it rough? Like being degraded?” Jisung nodded but Minho wouldn’t accept that response. “Words, slut.”

“Yes! Yes, I love being called names. Please just fucking rail me, sir, please!” He finally begged and Minho froze, pulling his fingers out.

“Manners? That’s new.” He tutted and Jisung continued.

“Please, sir, please just fuck me. I need it. I need it so bad…”

Something in Minho snapped and he went into a frenzy as he pushed Jisung’s thong down - he wouldn’t make him cum in his pants, not this time. He unbuckled his belt and popped the button on his own slacks before unzipping them and freeing his dick. The tip was angry red now and it was beginning to ache.

He held a hand below Jisung’s chin. “Spit.” He barely got the word out before his palm was covered in saliva. He immediately brought his hand to his dick and coated it in their makeshift lube before lining up. Jisung once again forced his way back and let out a high-pitched moan as soon as the tip was in. “Already sounding like a bitch in heat and you’ve barely taken anything…how do you plan to take the rest of me?” He mocked.

“I-I can take it, sir, please just give it to me…”

“Why should I? I don’t think you’ve earned more than the tip.” That set Jisung off. He was desperate and he couldn’t take anymore taunting.

“I’ll be a good boy, sir! I’ll do anything!” He wailed, fighting back tears.

“Then start by shutting your whore mouth.” His hips snapped forwards suddenly and Jisung’s jaw dropped in a silent scream.

But he refused to make any noise. He’d been told to shut up.

“Finally some peace and fucking quiet.” Minho jeered as he set a rough pace, the sound of skin slapping and the stalls shaking filling the bathroom. Jisung had locked his jaw and was breathing hard through his clenched teeth, creating a hissing sound, but he kept silent. Minho wanted to hear his sounds though. He didn’t want him to speak but he certainly wanted him to moan.

Instead of telling Jisung he could make noise, he reached around and began to jerk him off in tandem with his thrusts, twisting and tugging the way he himself liked. This broke Jisung’s silence and he let out a cry of desperation. If Minho could see his face right now, he’d see the stars dancing in his eyes. Jisung was barely coherent anymore as Minho abused his prostate with his impressive length. There was no way he’d last more than five minutes at best.

“Fuck you’re tight…” Minho groaned, his free hand landing a soft blow to Jisung’s ass. He released the younger’s cock and grabbed his hips with both hands to give himself more leverage as he slammed into him. “Touch yourself.” He commanded and Jisung nodded vigorously, bringing his hand down to tug at his leaking dick.

“A-ah! Please, ‘m so close, please can I cum?” He sobbed, tears actually falling now.

“Already?” Minho mocked, not that he was any better off. Jisung was squeezing him just right and he sounded so damn pretty. “Do you think you deserve to cum, Jisung?”

The younger felt his stomach do a backflip upon finally hearing his name from Minho's lips. Not a nickname, not a shortened version of his name. His name. And it sounded so fucking pretty. “N-no, sir…” He immediately shook his head, knowing he’d be in trouble if he said yes. Truth be told, he knew he hadn’t earned shit. He knew he was a brat and he knew he didn’t deserve even half of what he was being given. So he said as much. “I-I’ve been bad all night, the whole time you’ve been here even, I don’t deserve any of this.” He whimpered as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Minho had yet to let up with his thrusts and he hadn’t given Jisung permission to stop touching himself so it was clear he was fighting hard to keep his orgasm at bay. But all Minho wanted was to put Jisung in his place and he’d finally done that so he swatted Jisung’s hand away and took over, digging his thumb into the slit after a moment. “Cum.”

Jisung needed no further convincing, letting out a choked sob as ropes of sticky cum shot onto the cubicle wall and dribbled down on Minho’s hand. As he twitched and moaned, Minho pulled out and released Jisung’s cock in favor of grasping his own and finishing across his ass.

Everything went quiet save for Jisung’s sniffles as he calmed down.

Then Minho abruptly pulled away from Jisung and the younger let out a distressed whimper, worried he was being left. He was soothed by the gentle touch on his waist as Minho came back to him, his other hand wiping Jisung clean. “Fix your clothes. You’re coming home with me.” Minho declared as he tucked himself back in his pants. He was still unbelievably hard and he was far from done with Jisung.

“Huh?” Jisung pushed himself off the wall and spun as he tugged his thong back up.

“I said you’re coming home with me. I’m not done with you. This isn’t a one-off.”

With the promise of more, Jisung scrambled to fix his clothes and make himself presentable. Before he could finish, however, Minho was stealing a kiss. “Meet me in the parking deck when you’re ready to go.” And with that, he was off like a shot, leaving Jisung reeling.

Had…had he finally gotten his way? Was he really getting Minho all to himself? There was only one way to find out and he hurried to finish up. He needed this. It wasn’t just tonight that he couldn’t live without Minho's lips or his touch.

Next->

#🙃anon #pride month event #lgbtq #kpop smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids minsung #minsung #minsung smut #stray kids minho #lee minho #lee minho smut #stray kids han jisung #han jisung #han jisung smut #lee minho x han jisung #i'm actually going to hell #alura goes feral #alura’s works

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astranne · 2 years

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If memory serves right you mentioned professional gamer!xiao?

I hope i deliver! (Ofc hope ur day is going well and ur not shriveling up in the heat like i am)

PG(professional gamer)! Xiao would absolutely have THOUSANDS of fan

Most would be simps, but a good portion would be impressed by his speedrun skills, how well he handle jumpscares and doesn't interrupt dialogue? Helloooo??? Hand in marriage rn.

I cannot see him with facecam though, he probably though his facial expressions arent as good as other streamers who are more lively than him. I can see him being a casual gamer sometimes playing co-op shooters? A few peaceful games for his more younger audience if he has one

Onto his fandom...

I can see his fans being um.. feral? If he ever posted a picture of his face i can see him blowing up on every social media in mere hours, edits and everything being done. Hell, a picture of his shadow would make them lose it. But he would absolutely keep his fandom on a strict leash especially if hes aware of their ages. Im rolling off of ganyu's story quest, that he would be strict with his chat and have many mods to control their outrageous behavior. His fandom would probably would be the most well behaved out there.

But if he gets hate? Prayin for them. I hope they're okay. Passive aggressive threats 😰

His gaming style?

I can see him playing occasionally with Hu Tao or Childe, maybe in a horror game he doesn't know about

"You go first."

"Im not going first."

"Oh my god go first-" and it keeps going on like that for awhile till Xiao goes first and gets jumpscared envitably.

I dont see him actually screaming or getting scared? More like a huff and "you guys are dramatic" thing but on the rare occasion he is scared its just a swift movement of the mouse and maybe he hit his mic thats all. A few curse words thats it.

The games he would play?

I can see him playing multiple games, mostly small indie game devs from itch.io maybe a few big games but he likes giving credits to smaller game devs on steam and other websites but on occasion he posts a poll just in case his viewers get bored of his style :/

Another thing, he would absolutely have a day dedicated to having no mic or anything just him playing a game like Unpacking or Minecraft, or calm game like stardew maybe some soft copyright free music.

Charity events?

Bro raises thousands 💀 especially if theres a goal involved? Met the same day.

Now im back in my minecraft phase purely because the new update but The Warden being out gives me so many ideas about PG!Xiao.

Him coming across it the first time and freezing up, because the warden has a heartbeat effect that fades your screen in and out its literally so terrifying even if you know its there.

The clicking noises is horrendous, Xiao literally audibly saying "Hell no." As soon as he hears it literally SNIFF HIM OUT (it sniffed me before and i almost cried) and trying to escape, but pisses it off more and it uses That horrendously loud sonic screech to kill him because oh my god you cant tower away from it to escape and he stared in shock while chat spams F's in chat.

oh boy. THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN FOR BLESSING ME DEAR FISCHL ANON <33 sorry this took so long, but i had to stare a bit at this ask and got lazy answering for a time but psht

more brainrot under the cut hehe

yes, i did indeed talk about professional gamer!xiao and it has been on my mind during my finals :D (and i'm doing well, my body finally doesn't die that much anymore when going outside but i'm still a bit sick ew)

PG!xiao would be on a fame level similar to dream. and i stand by this. this man is fan service in person, of course he has millions of followers.

and yes, most would be simps, but then they would look closer and be like, damn this man actually knows what he's doing. this man is definition of speedrun, minecraft speed run? genshin speedrun? acnh speedrun? any kind of speedrun and you bet he did it.

hand in marriage, always. goddamn, he would get so many messages, and it's not only his fans, but also other gamers and influencers. xiao tries to ignore them, but he always gets blushy and flustered over it.

he first started without a face cam, and then had one, but with bad lightening. now that he's a bit more confident, he still has one, but sometimes it gets too much and he just,,, puts a paper over his cam or smth

this man slays in every game he touches. he just has the talent for gaming, you bet he's totally into valorant (maybe that's his professional part), cod, even fortnite (but he slowly started hating this game because of the random kids in it), but also grinding games like hayday or others. he totally has animal crossing new horizon and his island is just... perfection. he's a rich island owner and will spoil the shit out of his fellow islanders.

feral fans for xiao. yes. they see him as their god, too beautiful and skilled for this world. this man doesn't only have a model face but is also a very skilled gamer (professional gamer in valorant, wins in minecraft contests all the time, etc.) and his style... OH AND HIS HAIR. you bet it's his friends who thought eyeliner would make his eyes pop (goddamn he's just beautiful and gorgeous and-) you bet xiao has like the whole color palete just as eyeliners. and he slays in every color

xiao has an army of mods. most of them are older than him, which is why he chose them, and they are very strict with the rules. because yes, you have to keep his fans at a very, very, VERY tight lash. he literally trains them- they can be feral in his twitch chat, his comments, but as soon they are in other fandoms/chats/whatever, they must behave. and they do. nobody wants to be responsible for a disappointed xiao. he is very strict with his chat, but let's them have their 5 minutes (chat always breaks in those 5 minutes lmao)

xiao getting hate. first of all. WHO?! WHO IS HATING ON HIM?? probably another streamer wanting some drama for more fame. yeah, big mistake. xiao's fanbase cancelling the shit out of them. playing FBI and finding dirt and the reason why this streamer doesn't stream anymore. and this all in 6 hours. not even a day, 6 hours. xiao didn't even realize what his fans were doing, until a friend wrote him how twitter is blowing up.

xiao fanbase is now feared by all. streamers, gamers, influencers. the boogiemen of the internet. and xiao is their god. lmaoo-

him playing with childe and hu tao!!! yes pls. hu tao will always vote for horror games and she will search the internet for the best ones. childe just cackling in the background- fans love it.

xiao would play everything he gets his hands on. naturally the games as professional gamer, but also relaxing games. and he will totally play snake.io

this man is definition of indie game enjoyer and every smaller game dev will pray for their moment- the moment when xiao plays their game and rates it (xiao doesn't know the power he holds. he really doesn't)

viewers will never get bored of xiao, but it's still a big fear of his. his fans will love watching him doing anything- just breathing would be fine too and they will lose their mind. and their hearts melt when xiao is like, uhm yeah today i'm doing something new, so you won't get bored- HHHHHHH

and yes. once xiao does smth, he is dedicated to it and will do it, and nothing can stop him. 24hrs streams? he will play 24hrs, nothing can stop him. no mic day? that means no mic day.

charity events. okay listen. everyone knows xiao is big on charity. and if you wanna look good (as a famous person) you better give the man a few thousands. and his fans? they don't want to get outplayed by attention seeking bitches (that's what they always say, and this is why they always spare more than a few bucks)

also- minecraft. xiao is a minecraft kid, and he will always come back to his roots. this is why i think PG!xiao would be part of this dream/tommyinnit/snapnap/etc. group. not very often, but as soon the peeps say he joins- everyone freaks tf out. all their views go the hell up once xiao joins them, and you bet they want him as often as possible with them (jokes on them, xiao is an anxious little bean, he would rather rot in his room all alone instead of talking to people. his excuse is training for next tournaments lmao- and it works everytime)

xiao would die. and he did. wanna bet he screeched? it's the newest tiktok trend.

"okay, we doing good..." a few seconds pass.

"click. click. click."

"oh fuuuu-", is barely heard, more seconds of xiao muttering and running tf away.

"SREEEEECH."

"SCREEEEEEEEE-", xiao's screech was louder.

yeah- xiao would be trendsetter for tiktok trends and it's all his fans fault. yk those videos which show the videos to the sounds and go viral? since people don't know where thos sounds came from? yes, those. thanks to those, everybody knows it's xiao's screech.

GOD DAMN- PG!XIAO JUST HITS DIFFERENT- okay but, another thing. i'm not really into tournament valorant, but i know a group is slaying rather often there (or i think so??) anyways, xiao is part of said group. what would his chosen character be? cuz i see him as multi player, he slays in everyone he chooses. just as always. xiao just slaying.

#✨ star dust #⭐️ 🪶.star #genshin impact #genshin xiao #xiao #modern au #genshin modern au #modern xiao #gamer xiao #streamer xiao #professional gamer au #JADBDHHCSND-#please #just #xiao brainrot #😭😔��#🌚 knowing moon

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evevoli · 1 year

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HI anon from yesterday here again... thank you so much for your response yesterday especially because oh my god you are so right. about everything. also i am 10000000 times more crazy and insane now. like. LIKE. My daily routine. step one think about "you're family now." step two get enlisted into the mental hospital

as much as i am so so So sad and disappointed that luz and hunter don't have so much more time onscreen together perhaps it's for the best their development (in the human realm mostly) was off screen because truly i would not survive. like you said hunter did nothing but be an asshole to her every single time they met but luz is just such a good person she never gave up on trying to befriend him and knew that he was just a good person in a horrible place. Im crazy. you're right that ABSOLUTELY gives bro sleepless nights. and how id say they Get each other some of the best out of the hexsquad, because of their secrets and i mean the Horror of hollow mind and belos can only really be understood by someone who was also there y'know..

and ofc this goes for all the kids + camila but i wonder how horrible and even guilty hunter felt when he learned luz almost DIED being petrified by belos on the day of unity, because in his mind he'd probably see that as his fault, and conveniently ignore how belos likely would've killed him the second he saw him if luz didn't switch there places. Hahaha.... Aahahahh!!! <- Deranged

^ US RN (DERANGED)

GODDD IM GOING SCREAM..... lord i can't even Imagine the panic he must have felt going after luz on the DOU knowing belos could decide to kill her at any moment. holy shit dude.

she'd already saved him over and over solely out of the goodness of her heart and now here she is, readily taking his place on the gallows just because he matters that much to her, without having done a thing to deserve it, im just. GHHHHHHHH i need 2 sit down . and h i finished rewatching hunting palisman like an hour ago so u know my Brainrot Neurons are currently firing at all cylinders. goes insane. i am so obsessed w these two

like fuckkk dude .. luz telling hunter "you're not my friend" after he betrays her, all but saying she genuinely considered him a friend up until that point. and earlier, she went from viewing him as a begrudging ally at best until he shared some of his tragic backstory and suddenly had no problem giving him back his staff as if she trusted he wouldn't use it against her?? as if she Knew, Instantly, that he was never really a bad person? ?? girl took one look at this sopping wet beast of a man and said By God I Will Assimilate You Into My Found Family By Force If Need Be literally ,,,, LIKE !! lock me in a cage and throw away the key i'm going rabid

god. im fuckign with u there anon maybe it's a blessing these two don't have as much screentime together because 🤝🤝 if you think im annoying already i would undoubtedly be Even Worse. mental illness xtreme. i would be tearing this website asunder

#love hearing from u anon ur takes. exquisite #toh #the owl house #hunter toh #hunter noceda #luz noceda #asks

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yostresswritinggirl · 2 years

Note

ITS THE RETURN OF *checks notes* PAPILLON (🦋) ANON

I just wanted to thank you for being such a huge comfort blog during covid your posts got me through a really rough time :’) this community was so fun to be a part of and I’m glad there are still some familiar faces around

I, ON THE OTHER HAND, COMPLETELY REINVENTED MYSELF!!! I chopped all my hair off bc I decided that having sexy hair was not worth the sensory issues and also because I love the way a pixie looks on me (my head isn’t a weird shape like I thought it was) and once I started going to school in-person again I met a bunch of new people and recovered from isolating myself for an entire year and I’m WAY MORE CONFIDENT NOW

I actually took quite a large break from playing Genshin around my second semester last year and I only now started playing because Cyno came out👁 (I have been waiting for him since the trailer I LOVE HIM A NORMAL AMOUNT)

I actually joke pulled on Tighnaris banner because I wanted to get collei and umm I got collei,,, but I also got fox boy,, and then keqing so I had a guaranteed Cyno. I think this was Genshins way of bribing me to start playing again😭 it worked. I finished a bunch of quests I’d been putting off and I’m getting closer to starting the Sumeru archon quest ! !

Anyways today felt like a fitting day to come back from the dead because I literally had the most perfect day and it made me realize how far I’d come since my days as an anon in ur blog :’)

I hope everything is going good on your end as well and I’m glad your posting again (btw how’s that psychology major coming along?)

- Papillon 🦋

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT PAPILLON ANON, THE GODS HAVE BLESSED US TODAY FR

aaaaaa you're so sweet as ever, thank you too for keeping me company during the covid era, honestly it still feels like the pandemic is still rampant here but that's just me stuck inside at this point. but ah!! im so happy you're alive and better than ever! Oh look at you all, really growing up and finding your identities, even if it's been just what - almost two years i just feel so proud of you all for making it through the worst parts of our era and turning out for the best *wipes tears* Ah motherly tears

That makes you, me, and some others who also came back for Cyno! It's like the second coming or some shit lmao we love our boyo eventhoughiendeduppullingfornilouandsimpingforherhard

Oh please get that archon quest going, make sure to pace yourself by the way cuz that shit takes HOURS but it is SO WORTH

Again again, so happy you found your way back, I missed you just the same! And that ahah I graduated back in July! I'm now getting ready to take my board exam to have my professional license, four hours+ every saturday and sunday for 6 months hence why im quiet during the weekends but it's going well!

#Papillon anon #🦋 anon #exile.goblet #LESGO ANOTHER CHILD BACK

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hattrickprincess · 8 months

Note

A lil Marcus/kylian for anon.

Kylian stared at his phone which had lit up with 2 messages. Both of a different nature. Both that made his heart want to go in two directions.

“You up? come over?”

“* has sent a song * this song made me think of you. Missing you, bebe ♥️”

It would have been so easy to give into the first text. Neymar’s Paris house was a just a 10 minute drive away. And he knew walking into that mansion meant walking out with the best fuck of his life. Sometimes, just sometimes, Ney would kiss him so right that he would forget for a moment that he wasn’t his omega.

Kylian silent that wanting heart by blue ticking Ney and skipping over to Marcus’ message.

“Miss you too, handsome. Counting the days to when you come back home.”

Italy wasn’t that far but being in different countries was never ideal.

Kylian walked into his home after a day of long of promotions and media work and was greeted with a bouquet of roses, making his apartment smell like a garden.

“For my forever.” The small card in the bouquet said. It wasn’t even a special day or anything but Marcus loved surprising kylian. By just little things. Even the flowers, he knew he loved white roses. It was really the small things the alpha paid attention to.

Just then his phone pinged with an incoming photo. It was Ney, a photo of him in bed. “Come on, kyky. Come over.”

Kylian almost gave in that moment, no matter what- he would never deny how handsome the alpha was. It took all his will power to swipe that photo away.

Thank god Marcus decided to call him at same time. Otherwise there was a chance he would have turned on his heel, gotten into a car and ended up in Neymar jr’s bed.

“How do you like the flowers, my love?” Marcus asked on the other side of the line.

“I love them. You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered.”

Marcus spoke to him for almost two hours before kylian went to bed. Neymar long forgotten, messages still unanswered.

Maybe he had finally found someone better, someone who knew his worth and someone who treated him right. Maybe he finally found who truly valued him.

Maybe it was time to finally move on….

you're a blessing

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thegreatestinthegalaxy · 5 years

Photo

(( THAT’S… THE ONE THING I DON’T KNOW THE ANSWER TO, ACTUALLY. AND OH MY GOD WAS I HOPING THAT SOMEONE WOULD ASK ABOUT IT BC I’VE BEEN A LIL SCARED TO ASK MYSELF ‘CAUSE I SWEAR TO GOD IT’S LIKE ALMOST ON THE TIP OF MY TONGUE BUT I CAN’T EXACTLY PLACE IT AND IM DYING SQUIRTLE

@rcginaxgnis @rcginaxgnis @rcginaxgnis @rcginaxgnis @rcginaxgnis ))

#(( I'M SURE I JUST FORGOT IT BC TRASH BRAIN BUT ALSO I'M LIKE. KINDA SCARED THAT I MIGHT'VE NEVER BEEN AWARE OF IT AND WOW THAT'S ILLEGAL ))#(( I'M GONNA???? SUE ME????????? LMAO ))#rcginaxgnis #Anonymous #(( sORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO ANSWER THIS!!! AAAAAHH I WAS SO HAPPY TO SEE THAT SOMEONE SENT IN AN ASK FOR ME I ALMOST CRIED GOD I WAS DYING ))#(( OH AND ALSO I JUST SPENT THE LAST FEW HOURS HYPERFIXATING ON DOMINATOR BC I MADE A FEW POSTS ABT HER ON MY PERSONAL ))#(( AND IM ON MY MEDS TODAY SO OFC I SAT DOWN AND RAMBLED ON ABOUT HER FOR LITERAL HOURS KSHFGDGGDHDS ))#(( also it was like... it was just nice to keep the inbox notif there for a bit ))#(( i haven't been feeling well lately bc rsd and and like... anon this helped like you wouldn't even know. god bless you ))#(( like this is such a little thing but i think it saved me from spending another day feeling ignored and alone and depressed and like... ))#(( just... seriously bless you. ))#ooc #delete later

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randynova · 3 years

Note

How did Douma meet Peteal? What gave me to understand that Peteal was a Demon Slayer

Great question, anon! I wanted to put it in an earlier post but I felt like I was already rambling for far too long. I already infodump enough as it is lol.

Spoiler Warning!! Includes info from the manga!!

Doma meets his petal in the Red Light District, the place of lust and greed. The same way he met Daki and Gyutaro. Except, you know, when she's not on the verge of death.

You were not a demon slayer, but a prostitute who was rising up in the town. Sort of.

As if it were the retelling of a fairytale, where the two protagonists cross paths and fall in love at first sight, your fates were forever intertwined. Except, he chose for you.

(Why does he wazzup?? Why?? Old man-)

Let me set the scene.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Doma takes small walks in the terrain of the mountains, mainly to clear his mind and take a breather from his life as a cult leader, As much as he enjoyed the lavish life, it could get tiresome and annoying with the charade he has to put up.

Lately, that's how he finds himself. He has a life most people dream of: getting worshipped like a god, having servants at his beck and call, the finest meat, vegetables and fabrics Japan has to offer, and men and women who are more than willing to offer their bodies to pleasure their leader.

He couldn't help but feel something was missing.

But just what was he missing?

He comes across the Red Light district, having a festival. The golden lights of the town were blinding, the ever-moving crowd as they walked, and the chatter of people and tune of music were deafening. It's been centuries since he came to the town and with the smell of sake and smoke in the air, he remembered why. The scent itself was enough to make him a bit nauseous. Not to mention the countless men hungrily prowling the street to scoop a girl, it annoyed him. Both threw him off guard and distracted him, keeping him from his mission to find a suitable human who’s willing to submit to him.

He almost left.

Almost.

Yet, it wouldn't hurt to look around and find a human to eat, right? No, it wouldn't hurt. He needs to remain strong and healthy after all. He wouldn't want to disappoint master Muzan afterall.

Doma walked around the stalls, the bustling streets parting ways for him. When one first sets eyes on Doma, they can’t help but take a second glance at him. The man himself was a walking Greek statue, sculpted by the hands of a hundred talented artists who put their sweat and blood into making every curve perfect, blessed by the beauty of God himself. That is, if he believed in God.

Many courtesans approached him, but the moment he smiled, baring his sharp fangs, they looked away or became paralyzed in their spot. The demon couldn’t help but giggle watching the fear wash over their face as they took a good look at him.

Pathetic, he thought. So goddamn pathetic.

It's been about an hour since his arrival and he has yet to find a suitable meal. Every courtesan had smelt rotten and sour, a lingering scent from the men they had been with. It wouldn't be a problem if they waited at least a day for the smell to disappear, but their work demanded for their body. Doma visibly deflated and decided then and there that the next girl he came across would have to do.

He's tired of waiting.

The gentle strings of a koto reach his ears, every twang lulling him. He turns his head and freezes, his smile slowly falling, his hollow heart beating like a thousand drums in his chest. The people around stare in awe alongside him, seemingly in a trance, lost as they listen to the melody.

There you are, sitting on your knees in your pale pink kimono, the blooming flower pattern crossing over your right shoulder and wrapping around your body as it led to your thighs. Your hair was in its natural state, a huge contrast to the many women who held it up in the traditional hisashi-gami style. Though, it only made you seem even more ethereal. The demon seem mesmerized with the movement of your fingers, almost dancing across the wood as you plucked the strings, threads snapping back into place until you needed them again.

A dance between flesh and thread, the most beautiful thing a human can create.

It was such a huge difference to the sneers and cries of the people, the music that only served to stimulate the soul to give in to their lust – why hadn't he heard this before? Why?

Only when the song ended, everyone came back to reality and once again, the voices and music of the festival filled the air. Doma stayed silent, still focused on you, watching as many men raced to the front of the porch, animatedly chatting with the man beside you.

Doma walked to the front, pushing past the older men. They opened their mouths, fists raised, about to yell at him until they saw his daunting stature, his sharp teeth, and unusual eyes. They stepped back, both seething in anger and wilting in fear.

"Ah, you're so beautiful, miss! Such a wonderful song you played!" Doma cheered, speaking directly to you instead of the male beside you. You looked up and smiled, but you stiffened. You could feel the heat creeping up onto your cheeks, the tips of your ears burning, eyes widening slowly. No one really talked to you, they only addressed you when they called you to follow their orders. This... was different.

"Miss?" The handsome man waited patiently for your answer and you couldn't help but take in his appearance. His long pale, golden locks fell behind him like a waterfall made of sunlight, his eyes having the vibrant rainbow after a storm trapped in them, and a smile full of sharp canines that reminded you of your kitten back at home. The red and black long-sleeve tightly hugged his taut, lean form, accentuating his bulging muscles. Though his pants flowed freely, you didn't miss the way the light breeze pulled at his thick legs. Skin as pale as snow on a winter night, it seemed to glow under the moonlight and flames of the lanterns, giving him the aura of a god from a fairytale.

"Excuse me," the man beside you spoke. Doma turned his head and met the intense icy glare of your brother. Upon fully seeing the demon's face, his features almost darkened up. With a tight-lipped smile, he spoke, "Unless you're bidding, I suggest you leave so other men can have a chance. You know how the ceremony works."

The demon stayed quiet as he processed the words. It's been awhile since someone spoke so lowly to him; it almost reminded him of his youth. His smile fell whilst he tilted his head."'Paying..?'" He asked.

Why would he....?

His brows raised in realization and he broke into a smile once again. "Ah, yes! Of course!" Doma reached into his pocket, pulling out a small leather pouch. Reaching in, he pulled out a golden necklace with glimmering diamonds attached to the small yellow threads, and held it up in the air.

Everyone stared in awe at the sight of such a beautiful jewelry piece. No patron has ever offered accessories as grand as this one, let alone so easily. Your brother couldn't help but start beaming with greed, the sight of such jewelry being worth more than what any patron can offer him.

Which meant his vision for a future of wealth for the household is much closer than he thought.

However, his gaze shifted back to the leather pouch in the man's hand and he noticed it seemed awfully full for such a small bag, almost bursting at the seams. If anything, deflowering a girl is worth at least all the jewelry the demon carried. Perhaps more.

Your brother snapped out of his own trance and chuckled. "This is Mizuage. A girl's virginity is worth more than one piece of jewelry, sir. If you may, please step to the side and allow other patrons to place their bid."

Doma froze, eyes widening as his cheeks were dusted with a bright pink.

Mizuage. No wonder so many men are gathering around the house like hungry dogs prowling a corpse. The chance to take advantage of a celebration for a woman's virginity is like throwing a million golden coins in a street of beggars - an opportunity too grand to pass up. An opportunity Doma always had the privilege to take first.

His cult followers were nothing but disposable, offering their minds and bodies to the demon. He's had his fair share of deflowering people, and knows exactly how to make them tick. He also has the knowledge of how to manipulate the situation to his advantage.

A dark chuckle ripples through the air and Doma beams, taking a step towards the porch and leaning in close to the man beside you. He practically sneers yet, with his gleeful tone, it sounds no different than his up-beat voice, "My mistake. I truly thought a part of my offering was more than enough to outbid any of these pathetic men's money. I can assure you, young man, not even the old geezer has enough to outbid what I'm offering right now."

The old men scowled at Doma's words while the man merely forced out an awkward chuckle. He gave a short hum and closed his eyes, holding his hand out, "You seem to be mistaken, sir. The wealthiest bidder hasn't even arrived yet and I know he can offer more money than this jewelry is worth. As mentioned before – please step aside and let other customers place in their bids."

Doma narrowed his eyes. "Then what would be the appropriate amount to outbid him?"

"Hmm, perhaps that pouch of yours would be enough. Unless you're having second thoughts, then, I believe you can look for business elsewhere. You're wasting my time."

How irritating. "No, no, I believe that's a fair price," Doma hisses with a sickly sweet tone, fighting every single fiber inside his body to tear the man apart, limb from limb for simply speaking to him like that. He takes a deep breath and chuckles, "As requested, the bag is yours."

Doma raises his hand and drops the leather bag in your brother's hand. "I'll take the girl now, if you don't mind. I don't want to leave you with the task of delivering her to the room – I don't trust you not run off with my payment."

Ignoring Doma's crude and curt answer, your brother happily opened the bag and took a peek inside. He grinned and motioned towards the house behind him. "Thank you. Glad to do business with you, sir."

"Likewise."

◇◇◇◇

The air was tense, thick enough to suffocate you. The man from before sat across from you, smiling and humming in content.

You sat on your knees, gripping the fabric tightly, your knuckles turned pale, shaking as you avoided his gaze. A warm chuckle reached your ears, making goosebumps run up your arm, yet you refused to turn.

Before you knew it, he appeared in front of you. He cupped your cheek, gently turning you to him. He gave your a soft smile, one that made your hearts skip. God, he just had to taste you.

Doma's lips were like ice as they pressed against your mouth, his gentle yet cold touch as he slowly slipped the fabric from your shoulder, exposing your soft [S/T] skin. He took your bottom lip between his teeth, earning a whimper from the young woman.

As he pulled away, the demon couldn't help but take in the young girl's appearance. She couldn't be more than eighteen, perhaps nineteen. Fluttering eyes that looked at him with both fear and curiosity, parted and swollen lips with small quick breaths, shyly covering her chest - as if he hasn't seen it all before.

"Oh, miss, don't hide yourself," Doma purrs, pushing you back onto the plush blankets is the futon, following in suit and hovering over you. His hair fell and encased both of you in a golden waterfall, the yellow glow of the lantern shining over both of you. His palms were on either side of your head, and he began grind his throbbing shaft against your aching mound. Tilting his head, he took in the lewd sight.

You whimpered, batting your eyelashes, and clenching your thighs. He laughs, "You're beautiful. Please, let me show you how pretty you are. I promise I won't hurt you. " He balances himself on one hand and caresses your face with his knuckles, the cold feeling of his skin sending chills down your spine.

"I promise, I'll make this night worth remembering, one you never want to forget," He coos, wiping away a stray tear. "Let me take care of you."

As you gazed up at him, you still couldn’t ignore the uneasy feeling pooling in your stomach. "Promise?"

"I promise. Now, are you sure you want this? I want to make sure you're safe with this decision."

The uneasiness grew to be too much and you shook your head, pushing him away. "No, I-I don't. But... I- I need to do this, or else my brother will get upset with me. Please, I..."

Doma stopped and sat up, staring in shock at you. Even though he lost his humanity long ago, the time for his desires could wait until later. Right now, you needed space as you tried to stifle your sobs and looked to the side, letting the tears fall to the floor.

You were nothing but a broken girl forced to live a cruel life, endure a terrible fate, only worsened by your beauty. The guilt and sympathy that bloomed seeing you like that, only confirmed that the demon was going soft. But that didn’t scare him.

Though he remained silent, Doma made it his mission to protect you for the time being. As well as make sure that you would remain pure for the rest of your short, pathetic life.

At least, until you were his.

Right now, it was too soon.

◇◇◇◇

From that night, Doma spent most of his time watching you. He couldn't place his finger on it, the way you made him feel is different, yet he couldn't understand why.

He sent his male followers to the Red Light District, ordering them to buy your time for as long as possible and make sure no other man got you.

And by God, they made sure they were your primary customers.

Every piece of jewelry or money given to him was used to buy you, ensuring you remained pure and untouched. Not that you minded. His followers followed their mission through and through.

None of them were allowed to touch you and if they did, he'd kill them before the sun even rose. The last time someone tried was before his arriving time and went he entered the room, he found the man hovering over you, your cries and pleads to stop being ignored as they hastily ripped apart your clothing. He almost faltered and revealed his true colors.

Never have you seen the mam move so fast. He tore off the man and dragged him outside as he begged for mercy, only to return a few minutes later smelling like copper, smiling like if nothing had happened. You didn’t dare ask, however, not wanting to know as you saw the burning anger in his eyes before it dispersed into the usual bright and joyful look you were used to. The uneasiness only amplified that day.

His hollow heart seemed to beat and race around you. The way you smiled with such warmth and gentleness made him grin, a mellow feeling filling him as he heard your mirthful laughter. He found himself enjoying his time with you and never wanted the night to end.

Doma just wanted to be by your side, an action that surprised himself. It irritated him to no end that he couldn't be with you during the day, only being able to come at night.

When the sun began to rise, he wanted to scream and curse at the sky, at mother nature. But he knew he'd return hours later, he just wished it never had to end.

Every sweet compliment that rolled of his tongue had you swaying, falling a little deeper into the pool of passion every time. Every gift he brought you, it seemed like a dream with how luxurious they appeared. He outbid every man at night and soon, he took up most of your time, not allowing anyone else to have you. Every action pulled you in.

Soon, you found yourself happily waiting for his return every night. Upon his insistence, you wore the pink petal kimono every night, making sure the following morning you washed and dried it to be presentable.

Doma never felt so at peace before. So happy. You brought him that and he wasn't about to let that go.

Not over his dead body.

◇◇◇◇

"What...?"

"My brother found a wealthy suitor who is willing to marry me...," you whisper with a hoarse tone, throat raw from the hours of crying. "He... He lost all the money you paid in gambling, and-and put our household deep into debt. The man is willing to pay them all off if I become his wife."

Doma's smile slowly fell and his gaze turned dark. All the money he invested, gone in the blink of an eye, and now he was going to lose you – all because of the stupid, pathetic actions of your irresponsible brother. Yet, he couldn't stop the question slipping from his mouth, the ache in his chest blooming as he processed the information.

"Who... Who is he...?"

"A-A wealthy merchant. Despite his old age, he has a few wives and children already, but I will be the youngest now." Burying your face into your hands, avoiding his intense expression, you weakly weep, "But, Doma, you have to understand, he offered enough money to get us out of our debt and to set us for life! What choice do I have?!"

Your words fell on deaf ears as they went in one ear and went out the other. His nose twitched and the tips of his fingers tingle. The ringing seemed was so loud, he just couldn't focus on anything said afterwards. Seeing your tears cascading down your cheeks as you tried to explain, hearing the white noise of your broken sobs wracking your body, it filled him with absolute fury.

The thought of someone even touching what was his, it boiled his blood. Even Satan himself could not rival the wrath bubbling inside him. It took everything in him to not explode and go to your household, just to curse at your brother and rip his head off his body, smashing it to smithereens. Oh he was just so tempted to, too.

Doma reached out and wrapped his arms around you, bringing you close, and tucking your head under his chin. He put his hand on the small of your back and began stroking your hair.

When all of this was over, he'd deal with your incompetent brother personally. Doma will make sure that he suffers in his last moments and make it last for hours.

He waited until you calmed down, waited until your cries became nothing more than sniffles, and he grasped you chin between his fingers, tilting your head up to look at him. Oh the sight of his dear beloved being so upset tugged at heartstrings. He spoke in a soft, soothing tone, offering you an opportunity you just couldn’t refuse.

Doma offered you a life outside of this dark, cruel city. He offered you freedom, a chance to leave the twisted fate you were forced to live in for years - a new home. And like a fool, desperate to escape, you took his hand and ran.

You left without a second glance, carried like a doll in Doma's arms into the darkness of the night. Through it all, sweet promises were made, one strategy seemed too good to be true.

Your family, for once, couldn't make you the scapegoat to clean up their problems.

Finally, you were free.

However, when you arrived in a small shack in the inner mountains, did you realize your mistake.

Only when the door shut and chains were locked did the situation finally dawn on you.

Doma promised to make you his and like a hungry wolf finally meeting his prey, he towered over you and made his mark, pronouncing you to be his new beloved.

He didn't let you leave.

He threatened you that if you even step foot outside the shack, he'll know. If you try to escape, he'll punish you. But if you tried moving on from him, he'll kill them.

Leaving was never a choice nor a possibility.

Doma called you petal, a term of endearment for him, a reminder of the pattern of your kimino that you wore the night you met. The countless petals that littered the fabric, he found the name perfect for you. " 'Petal'? Yes, I think that fits you so well, my beloved. My pretty petal... I like the sound of that!"

Yet, you could only see it as the night your life took a turn for the worse, meeting the demon who tricked you with his sweet words of a better life. He was so handsome, how could you not accept his proposal of buying you for a night? Like a stupid little girl, you thought you were getting your happy ending and finally getting rid of the chains you that were forced upon on you for years.

But now? You weren't in chains or a cell, you were in your own personal hell.

And the devil who made it a reality made you his lover.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Now that Doma has you, he won't let you leave.

He won't let you go.

And most certainly, he won't let you love anyone else.

Only him. He will be the only man you love.

If he has to kill the world to make sure of it, he will.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 .

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

A.N. :Genuinely don't know why most of my Petal drafts aren't posted if they're finished. Until I realized they needed editing lol.

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sluttyten · 3 years

Text

craving you like the devil craves heaven

summary: you’re a succubus (a female demon that seduces men to death) and you task yourself with seducing someone difficult. enter mark lee, a priest with a vow of celibacy that he’s already struggling with. you think you’ll have some fun. (based off this message from an anon)

length: 8,622

warnings: religious themes, sacrilegious, corruption, demons, priests, oral sex, masturbation, sex

As a newly-made succubus, you wanted to impress your peers and superiors, and therefore decided to challenge yourself by making your first time special and big.

“A priest?” Your direct superior shook her head in disbelief. “Most would start with a regular mortal who is much, much more likely to succumb to sin. Are you sure you want to commit to seducing a priest? You realize they swear to be celibate, and typically they’re committed to destroying demons like you and I?”

You do realize all of those things, but you’re sure if you find the right one you can do it. Not all priests are perfectly perfect and holy.

All it took was a little bit of divine intervention (or rather you intervening in the divine), tapping into that holy line of mortal prayers. A little eavesdropping, careful listening, and at last you plucked the correct line, listening to the reverberating prayers of a holy man dealing with such sinful thoughts, praying for help in remaining faithful to the vows of the priesthood.

It was night in this place where the young priest was. Cool and dark, the air was damp and would surely make you shiver if you were mortal, but the cold didn’t affect a demon like you, nor did the mist as it clung to your eyelashes and the strands of your hair. You stood across the street from the rectory, standing in the shadow of a doorway, gazing up at the faint golden light of a window on the second floor of the holy man’s house.

You could still hear a whisper of his prayers.

“Lord, it’s me, Mark, your servant. I pray you give me the strength to resist these desires, the sinful thoughts.” He prays, and you can almost picture him kneeling with his hands folded before him, head bowed, and lips moving slightly as he repeats the words of Latin prayers.

You decide to study him.

That night you stand there on the street and watch the house, listening to his dreams, and catching glimpses of his neighbors’ dreams, as well as the other two priests who share the home with Mark. And in the morning you shift yourself to match the wall behind you, to continue your observations as the young priest rises and dresses and walks down the street to the church. You watch as he passes through the cemetery tucked behind the church, and he pauses at some of the headstones to straighten flowers or offer a prayer, and then he enters through a side door, and you stand outside, waiting.

Several hours later a crowd begins to arrive, passing inside through the large, ornate front doors, and soon after music swells, voices rise, and you hear the chanting of prayers upon prayers. You watch as Mark emerges from the church among his parishioners, as he smiles and talks and shakes hands with them.

You take special note of the way that his eyes repeatedly flick toward another human, near the same age as himself. You notice the way his eyes follow their movements, how he smiles when they meet his eye.

Ah, this one. That one is the source of the young priest’s sinful thoughts.

You observe as the crowd thins, disappearing from the front steps of the church until it is only the priest speaking to a mother and her toddler that keeps tugging on her hand and crying, and Mark tries his best to pay full attention to her, but the lovely human who has attracted his notice stands a few feet away, holding a folder in their hands.

Eventually as the bell tower above the church chimes the hour, Mark excuses himself from the mother, stating that he has an appointment to get to, and you watch with renewed interest as he leaves the mother and beckons the nervous-looking folder-wielding individual to step back into the church with him.

They pass through the nave of the church—their footsteps echoing up to the vaulted ceiling, through all the empty pews—and bow at the altar before stepping around to the side, and passing through a doorway tucked behind a statue of a saint. They shut themselves away in the priest’s office, and you listen eavesdrop from your hiding place across from the church, a safe distance from all the blessed holiness that would try to keep you out.

You can’t quite hear Mark’s thoughts, but bear enough to it, sensing the fluctuations in his emotions as the parishioner shows him the divorce file, and pleads with him to help them resolve the issues in their marriage to their spouse in a way that won’t end like this.

You can feel Mark’s tension, the conflict within himself. It’s his duty to help. But the desire he feels for this person sitting across from him.... it’s sinful, it goes against his vows.

That night you watch him walk back to the rectory after another mass, several meetings, a meal at the home of one of his parishioner’s. You listen as he prepares himself for bed, as he prays once more for the strength to get passed this way he feels because he knows it’s not right in the eyes of the church and God.

And that night, after Mark’s window has at last gone dark, after he’s fallen into dreams, you decide that your time for first contact has come.

Mark’s dreams are easy to intrude upon. The boundaries upon the rectory, blessed though they may be, are old and worn and leave several gaping holes for you to slip through and into his mind.

What you’re doing isn’t possession. That’s not in your repertoire.

In his dream, you take the form of Mark’s desire. You form the dream into what you require, setting up the scene as being back in his office, that desk between him and you, the future-divorcée’s file open on the desk.

Mark doesn’t notice a thing, he just slips right from his normal dreams into this one, picking up his lines without a skip.

“....and pray to the Lord. You and Alex can get through this. Counseling and prayer works miracles.” Mark says, and just as he’d done earlier in the day, he reaches across the desk and takes the hand sitting there atop the file.

Unlike earlier though, you’re in control of this dream. You’d felt Mark’s mind buzzing when his hand came in contact with the hand of his secret desire, so you turn that to your benefit now, making your first changes.

“I know it’s wrong,” you say in the voice of the divorcee, “But sometimes I think there’s no use saving the marriage. Alex feels one way about it, and I can understand that. Alex could fall in love with someone else and be happier and I want that for my spouse, of course I do. And if I could fall in love too....” Your look up at Mark sitting across from you, his hand still on yours, and the look on your face is one that you put as much want and lust into as you can.

Mark gulps. His fingers twitch against your hand. “Sometimes people fall in love with someone else. A peaceful resolution to a marriage, the dissolvement, annulment.... that can happen and both parties can remarry happily.”

He’s trying so hard, the poor thing. One look into his eyes and you can see the nervousness and excitement, the way his mind is rushing at this news that the person sitting before him might want to look for new love.

“Sometimes the person that we’re meant to be with is actually right in front of us.” You say.

Mark nods, swallows again. You test the waters, stroke your thumb over the back of his hand.

He jolts in his seat and stands, rubbing a hand over the top of his head as he paces over to a water disperser in the corner of the office, and he fills a small paper cup for himself, gulps it down. And you take this as your next opportunity to try to twist this dream to your advantage.

“Father Lee,” you step closer and closer, coming up right behind him.

His hand shakes as he fills the cup again, but before he can quite lift it to his lips, you curl your hand against his, and take the cup, bringing it to your lips and draining it while you look at him. He watches with his lips parted, eyes wide. Mark drinks too—drinks in every detail of you wearing his desire’s face and putting your lips where his had just been. You can hear his adorable thoughts—the innocent rush he gets from thinking that’s like an indirect kiss.

Things are moving too slow now, you can tell that even in a dream, even when you’re offering everything up for him to make the move, Mark won’t take the opportunity. He’s trying too hard to hold back, and you just want to seduce him.

So you push things ahead just a little bit, rearrange the dream to your liking, which is you sitting on the edge of the desk, leaning back on your hands with Mark’s hands on you. He’s got one hand tangled in your hair, the other on your waist, and the overwhelming sexual frustration you taste on his tongue as he kisses you is so fucking sweet.

Mark murmurs your name.

Well, not your name. But the name that belongs with this face. You press closer, kissing him back to make him shut up, to keep him distracted and enchanted by the lust of the dream.

But perhaps doing that pushes it too far.

Mark breaks away, gasping, “No, wait. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Irritation flashes through you, and for a split second your true self shines through.

Mark’s eyes widen and he gasps, the whole dream fluctuates, shaking and tipping to the side, and then you’re ripped back to reality, just a monstrous succubi hiding in the space beneath his bed.

You hold still as Mark staggers to his feet. Bare feet brush across the floor, and you hear him slapping his face, pinching at his inner arms, and then you hear him murmuring prayers again.

“Father, I’m sorry for my sins. Please forgive me.” and “Father purge these demons from my mind.”

You wrap your arms around yourself under his bed and smile. You don’t plan to go anywhere.

Several more days pass and you let Mark be. You even return to Hell for a few days to update your supervisor on your progress, and while it’s not as much as you’d like, they are impressed with your target.

By the time you return to watch Mark again, he seems to have calmed down a bit from that naughty dream you’d given him. You return just in time for him to say his nighttime prayers, and once more you wait for him to fall asleep before you enter his space.

You bring yourself physically into the space—at first incorporeal, but then you manifest a tangible shape that you personally admire for all of your earthly adventures, and you settle in to do your work for the night.

Even with a real body, you’re still light as a breath of wind, so when you climb onto the bed and settle over Mark’s chest, he doesn’t stir. Nor does he do anything as you step into his dreams.

This time you observe the dreams for a moment.

You seem to be in a memory. Mark’s brother and himself when they were younger, riding bikes down a street that fades off into white nothingness at the edges, not that either of the two boys seem aware. The dream shifts naturally from that bike-ride to sitting in a car, the windows rolled down, a night breeze filling the interior and raking its fingers through Mark’s hair. There’s a girl sitting in the seat beside him, talking and smiling and dressed cute with a milkshake in one hand that she pauses her story every now-and-then to take a sip at. A girlfriend or a first love. When she reaches over and lays a casual hand on Mark’s thigh, he jumps a little. It’s close enough to what you need, so you grasp onto it and take control of the dream like you’re the one driving a car.

You wear the dream-girl’s face as easily as you’d worn the one in the last dream. You move her hand higher up his thigh.

Mark turns his head to the side with a sharp inhale, staring at you. And then you realize, startling even yourself, that he’s actually staring at you.

The dream ripples and you can feel it pulling away from you, Mark resisting your attempt to control the dream.

“Who are you?” His voice asks, but the Mark in the dream before you doesn’t move his mouth. The voice echoes and booms from all around you.

Abort. Fleeing a dream, tearing yourself from the web of his mind, abandoning your victim in a situation like this seems like the absolute most perfect idea.

But tragically, it seems impossible.

The dream closes in around you, squeezing tight as if holding you there. You grapple with Mark’s mind, and then suddenly the dream releases, Mark gasps awake, trying hard to suck in breaths against the new weight of you sitting on his chest, a succubi filled with the lust and dream-energy you’d been siphoning from him.

Before you can truly flee, dissolving back to your incorporeal form and slipping out into the free night, Mark’s hand closes around your wrist, and with a strength and agility you didn’t expect, he flips you under him, pinning your form to his bed. Trapping you between his warm body and the firm mattress.

“Who are you?” Mark hisses.

You let your true eyes shine through, hoping that the dimly glowing sulphuric color of them will frighten him into letting you go.

Instead, he reaches into his shirt and draws out a cross on a silver chain. You flinch back into the sheets as Mark asks the same question again.

“I’m here to help you.” You turn your gaze away from the cross, locking your eyes on his. “You’re so loud with your lustful thoughts, and I’m here to help you feel better, to tame your lusty sins.” You buck your hips up, pressing up against his hips.

Mark swallows hard. “I don’t know what you are or what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, so you don’t want to fuck that sexy, soon-to-be singleton you were dreaming about the other night?” You bring your hands up both of his arms until your fingertips are under the sleeves against his biceps. “Oh, Father Lee, don’t you know how sinful that is? What would your fellow priests think? What must He think?”

Mark’s jaw tightens, and he brings the cross closer to your skin. Your body tingles and burns.

“Let me up.” You tell him. He doesn’t budge. “I swear to all things evil, let me up or I’ll scream and moan, transform to look like your secret desire so when your Brothers came running in here all they’ll know is I’m moaning your name, and you’re....”

Mark moves.

“Demon.” He spits the word at you like an insult.

You sit up, fixing your hair, and you wink in his direction. “You got it.”

“Get out.”

“Hey.” You stand, raising your hands innocently. “You’re the one that summoned me here. I’m a succubus, and the amount of sexual frustration radiating off of you was too delicious to pass up.” You lean in and sniff at his neck, just to take the opportunity to make him uncomfortable because he’s cute like that. “I just want to help, to show you that you can still feel good, Mark. And anyway, is it breaking your vows if I was just trying to entice you in your dreams? It’s not real is it?”

Mark shakes his head, taking an unsteady step backwards. “Even thoughts are sins.”

You roll your eyes and sink back down onto the edge of his bed. “That’s such a modern misconception. Back in the early days of your faith, people weren’t quite so... prudish. They had sex, some even saw it as praising Him, thanking him for the goodness of it all. Some people still do, why do you think people scream His name during the throes of ecstasy?”

Mark blushes. “Stop it. I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m just trying to help.” You reply, leaning back on your hands and looking up at him. “You’re horny, I can feel that. You’re channeling all of your lust toward one unattainable person because they’re married, Mark. Not to mention, they call you Father Lee, which is very unsexy, might I add. But if you would just give in to your dreams, have a hot little dream of making out, getting down and dirty in your office, then that would give you a bit of satisfaction, right? Have a wet dream like you haven’t since you were a teenager? Or at the worst, wake up with a boner, take care of it yourself. You do jerk off still, don’t you, Father Lee?”

Mark frowns at you. “Shut up.”

“Is that a no?” You gasp, sitting up. “Seriously? But you’re still so young, you’ve got all of these hormones, this energy that you need to release. Even if you feel you can’t release it with someone else, do it yourself.”

Mark turns completely away from you then, but you can still see him reflected in the mirror across the room. “Get out.”

His tone is so dour, dark and serious, that you do get out. You flee into incorporeality, still able to observe the look on Mark’s face when he turns around a second later and sees you’re gone, can still see the shape of where you’d say on his bed. He runs his fingers through his hair, and then begins to whisper prayers to his God for forgiveness for his weakness.

You let a few more days pass before you return, scared that coming back too soon would cause too much damage. But several days, you think, gives him time to think more about what you’ve said. You do watch him though, you watch closer than you’d done before, and you see Mark clumsily try to touch himself, as if thinking about what you’d said, but he always pulls his hand away after a moment with a groan of frustration.

On the fifth night since you’d last appeared to him, Mark lingers in his office at the church, pouring over papers, notes from meetings, notices from the parish school. In the yellow half-light cast off by his desk lamp, Mark looks so much older and more tired than anyone should look at twenty-five.

“You need to do something to relax,” you tell him as you manifest right behind his seat, already rubbing at his tense shoulders.

Mark spins his chair around so quickly, he nearly falls out of it. His pupils expand with fear, his chest rising and falling with the surprised, panicked breaths you’d startled out of him.

“How are you in here?” He asks, his eyes darting around the room to the closed door and the latched windows. You know he’s thinking about how the doors of the church are locked (because he’d checked them earlier after the last service for the evening), and then you can see the switch flip in his mind as he starts thinking about how you’re a self-confessed demon currently standing on holy ground. “How are you here?”

You shrug and step around him, sitting on the edge of his desk and plucking a paper from the middle of one of the piles. “It’s easy to be here. I just feel all tingly in all the good places.” You wink at him.

Mark groans and punches the bridge of his nose. “Am I going crazy? Is that what this is? You’re a manifestation of my mental breakdown?”

“Absolutely not,” you laugh. “I’m real. See?”

You take his hand from his face and bring it down between your thighs, close enough that Mark can feel the heat radiating off your skin, but before you can actually make him touch any part of your body, Mark jerks his hand away. You sigh sadly and return your focus to the paper in your hand.

“So, marriage counseling going well for the unhappy couple?” You scan the document which is notes Mark had taken during the counseling session for his crush. “From the looks of it they have issues. The unresolvable kind. Alex just won’t put out, and your sweetheart has needs, huh? But you know all about that, don’t you, Mark?”

Mark snatches the paper out of your hands. “That’s a confidential document.”

You hold out your hand, and right before Mark’s eyes another page from his desk appears in your hand, and this time you read aloud. “When we first got married, we would have sex regularly. At least once a week, usually more.” You raise your eyes to look at Mark. He’s trying so hard not to blush; you wonder how he got through the session. The next few lines of the message are more whining about the current lack of a sex life, and then it’s gets into the sordid, juicy details that you feel certain Mark had struggled to copy down, but had done so for the specific intent of reliving the rush he felt hearing about the sex life of someone he desires.

So naturally you read that part aloud to him as well, and Mark just squirms in his seat. You look up at him and see that he’s definitely blushing, his hands folded as he stares down at them with such a forceful look of concentration, that you’re surprised they’ve not burst into flames. He’s so determined to ignore you, you can hear the prayers racing through his mind.

But when you toe off your shoes and bring a foot up into his lap, you’re amused to find a raging erection hiding there. Mark shudders as the sole of your foot caresses him. His hands untwist, and one moves to your calf, curling around it, but he doesn’t push you away. Not as you keep moving your foot over him like this. His eyelids flutter.

You don’t dare speak, just let the silence hang in the room as you rub Mark’s erection with your foot, his hand on your calf, the other clenching into a fist on the arm of his chair. His lips part, small sweet-sounding sighs falling free. His eyes close, head dropped back against the headrest of his fine leather seat, and his hips shift beneath your foot.

He looks beautiful like this, you think.

Half-lit by his lamp, blushing and glowing with list and finally-felt pleasure. Your body tingles with your own pleasure, the success of doing this.

Mark’s teeth catch his bottom lip, trapping a grunt within his lips. You press your toes to circle them at the tip of his erection, and Mark’s hips lift up, chasing the feeling, grinding against your foot. He sighs, soft moans and pretty sounds, and then at last, he whispers “oh God” and then shudders and slumps back in the chair.

You feel the wet heat beneath your heel, Mark’s cum filling his trousers.

Satisfied, you vanish before he can open his eyes.

You return the following night. This time Mark is in his room at the rectory, sitting up in bed. His eyes are closed as he leans against the wall, his bedsheets pooled in his lap, his hand resting there. He’s not touching himself, but you can tell that he’s challenging himself not to. He’s hard again, and the moment you present in the room, his eyes open as if he could feel the change in the air.

“Demon,” his eyes narrow. “What did you do to me last night?”

“Why? Did it feel good?” You smile. You don’t walk straight to his bed, though you know you’ll end up there. You walk to the closet, run your fingers over the hangers, you skim your fingers through the dust gathering on the books lining the shelf on his wall.

When Mark clears his throat, it’s then that you finally look at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because you need me.” You nod at his lap, wave your hand in a long gesture at his whole body. “I’m telling you, Mark, the energy coming off of you, it’s a wonder you don’t draw every succubus in Hell to come seduce you, drinking up all this juice you’ve got, I’ve never been so full.”

Mark’s eyes flash darkly, his eyes stuck on your face. “Well you had your fill last night right? I can’t believe.... I’ve prayed to the Lord for forgiveness so many times since last night I went to confession earlier today.”

“Oh did you?” A burst of excitement goes through you, and you hurry to sit on his bed, taking up his hand. “What did you tell them about me?”

Mark shakes your hand off. “I didn’t mention you. Why would I? They’d either think I’m losing my mind, which I’m still not convinced that I’m not, or they’d think that I’m just breaking my vows and having sex with someone. I just confessed that I lost my battle against lust and took care of myself.”

You tut at him disapprovingly, shaking your head as you say, “Lying in confession? Isn’t that an oxymoron? And a sin?”

Mark’s hands clench at the sheets. “I wasn’t lying really. Not if I believe that you’re a figment of my cracking mind.”

You smirk, and when you lean closer and lay a fingertip on Mark’s cheek, tracing along his cheekbone and then dropping to outline his lips, you whisper, “And do you believe that? Truly? That I’m just a figment of your imagination?”

“I don’t know what I believe,” Mark whispers hoarsely. “I don’t know if it’s better to think I’m doing this to myself or that there’s a demon taunting me.”

“Maybe I’m actually an angel in disguise, sent in answer to your prayers.” You shift onto your knees, and lean close to Mark’s face. You hold just an inch away from his lips. He goes almost cross-eyed trying to keep looking at you. “In which case, you should take advantage of this opportunity, no? Let me help you, enjoy it.”

Mark pulls his head back, closing his eyes tight as he drops his head back gently against the wall. “This is a sin. I’m a priest, I can’t be doing this.”

You roll your eyes and move.

Mark peers curiously, and almost fearfully, through a cracked eyelid when he feels your weight leave the bed. But a split second later you’ce settled completely in his lap. He goes stiff, murmuring prayers under his breath as well as something that sounds suspiciously like some sort of chant to banish you.

You stay firmly in your spot. “Why did you become a priest, Mark?”

Your question catches him off guard. His prayers cut off and he opens his eyes, looking directly at you. “What? Because I was called. I heard His voice calling me.”

“When?”

“The first time I was young. Fifteen, I think.” He looks up at the ceiling, remembering. “Again when I was eighteen. I entered the seminary at nineteen, studied until I was twenty three, when I became a deacon, and then I was ordained earlier this year. At twenty five.”

You shift your weight. “And you never doubted it? That this was what you wanted to do? That you wanted to swear yourself to celibacy? Never have sex, never allow yourself to experience pleasure? Tell me, Mark, are you a virgin?”

Mark’s blush returns, flooding his face with heat. “Why do you care?”

“Have you ever been touched by another person?” He stays silent, and you think about what you’ve observed in him. You think about him clumsily touching himself before giving up, about how easily he’d fallen apart under your touch the night before. “Have you ever touched yourself, Mark?”

You can feel how hard his heart pounds now, and in each loud beat you hear your answer.

“Cute. Little virginal priest.” You put your hands on either of his cheeks, turning his face so he has no choice but to look right at you. “Was last night your first orgasm?”

Mark breathes through his nose, holding your gaze, trying to steady his racing heart and mind. “Can you stop.”

“But aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to feel it again?” You drop your hands from his face. “I can give that to you again. I can make you feel even better, actually. If you let me, Mark, I can open up a whole new world to you.”

When his eyes close you can tell that he’s thinking about how to banish you, to send you back to hell. You find that very attractive, particularly when a muscle in his jaw flexes.

“Mark,” you whisper, and you lift a gentle hand to his neck, tracing a finger along a vein that stands out there. “Mark, what if I’m just a figment of your imagination? It’s not wrong then, is it? To want to feel good like you did last night? I can give that to you again, I can make you feel better. Just tell me yes.”

The silence buzzes in the room as you wait for him to speak or do anything.

“Yes,” Mark’s voice comes out shaky, hoarse. “Yes, okay. Just one more time.”

You move before he can decide to change his mind. Mark just takes steadying breaths as you sink down the bed, slipping beneath the covers, fitting between his thighs. He holds his breath when you tug down the waistband of the plaid flannel pants he’s wearing, when you touch his bare erection with your fingers, the tip of your tongue, your lips closing around him.

You’re not sure that he breathes until swallow around him, pushing to take more of his cock down your throat. Your body buzzes with the heat coming off of him, the energizing power of making him feel good.

Mark doesn’t touch you. He clenches his fingers in the bedsheets on either side of his hips as you give him his very first blowjob. You can’t help looking up at him as you do this; watching every look of pleasure and satisfaction cross his face, unrestrained. And when he moans, they’re soft moans, always conscious that you’re not alone together in this house of holy men, that there’s another priest just two doors down, an empty bathroom in between.

You keep sucking him off, taking him as deep into your mouth as you can when he blows his load for the first time.

Mark bites his knuckles to keep quiet. You pull off his erection, keeping your fingers on him, playing with him as he shudders through the last waves of pleasure.

“Look at that, would you? Felt good? How could that be a bad thing?” You drop a tender kiss to his tip, and then sit up, feeling very satisfied in yourself. “Do you want more?”

“More? No. I shouldn’t. I really, really shouldn’t.” He put his hands over his face, pinching at his nose. “Shit. What am I doing? You need to leave.”

You look at him with his face covered, his body on display to your eyes. “Well, if you want more, I’m sure you can look up a summoning ritual for me in one of your holy books, Father Mark. Call me.”

You stand up, and it’s not like you’re going to leave by the door, or anything, but you turn to look around his room one last time. You’re done here. You seduced the priest, drank energy from him, there’s nothing more to be done. You’ve enjoyed your first time, but you’re not going to do the full succubus job to this man, you’ve enjoyed him too much. You won’t drain him and leave him sick. You just hope you opened his eyes.

“Wait.” The young priest grabs your arm before you have the chance to disappear. “How do you expect me to summon you if I don’t know your name?” He says it lightly, almost joking, as if he’s still not sure that he can really take this seriously, this whole you being a seductive demon thing. But the look in his eyes is hopeful.

With a light touch to his chin, you lean in, and whisper your name in his ear.

Months pass in mortal time. You move on from the young priest, seducing many men and some women, draining a few of them dry until they’re just shells of their former selves. You’re currently seducing a wannabe actor, literally sitting on his dick, when you feel a tug inside you. It’s a strange feeling, nothing you’ve felt before, and it’s not pleasant at all.

You push at the man’s chest, the unpleasant feeling spreading through you. “I’ve got to go,” you tell him, and then you turn and vanish, following the strange feeling.

You find yourself in a strange room, a small bedroom.

“So you really never came back to me.” A voice says from behind you.

You spin around, noticing all at once the candles, and then right before you--

“Forgive me, Father. I thought you didn’t want more from me.” You reach out to Mark, standing right here before him for the first time in so long. You missed him. You missed teasing him.

“I didn’t expect you really wouldn’t come back.” Mark stands there just out of reach, his arms folded across his chest. And he looks so good, so handsome in a black button-down shirt and gray pressed slacks. But he’s barefoot and his hair is messy, adding a toned-down casual level to his attractiveness. He clears his throat and you look back up to his face as he says, “I had to make do without you around, you know.”

That piques your interest. “Oh? Did you finally learn to jerk off? Have you been touching yourself? Here in the priest house?”

Mark shakes his head. “Look around, does this look like my room there?”

No, actually. It doesn’t at all. And a quick look out the window shows that you’re in somewhere completely different.

“I left the priesthood,” Mark explains. “What you said, what you did to me, I realized that the priesthood wasn’t what was the best choice for me. I can still serve the Lord in other ways, other ways that will allow me to explore the side of me that you awakened.” And now Mark steps closer to you. At last, he reaches for your face, slipping his fingers into your hair. You practically purr at the contact with him. “I’ve been busy since you left me.”

“Oh?” You lean into his touch. “From priest to manwhore in just a few passes of the moon.”

Mark nods. “I tried to stay on that path for a little while, but I just couldn’t. I craved more, that same feeling you gave me.” He nibbles his bottom lip nervously for a second before admitting, “I actually slept with a woman before I decided to give up on the priesthood. I prayed for forgiveness afterwards, but it just felt like I fucked up too much on that one, so I decided to leave. I moved away, started over, slept around, but none of them touched me the way that you did. Nothing feels better than you.”

You shrug. “It’s part of the job description really. I’m a seductress. You think I’m not going to be the best you’ve ever had? Is that why you summoned me, you want more at last?”

“Demon, I want to make you a deal.” Mark caresses your cheek. “I am a man of faith, and you’ve steered me down some side path that I had absolutely no intention of going down. In the past, I didn’t know what to do with you, but I wanted you. Now, I still want you, but I know what I’m doing. I know about you. I did research about your kind while I was looking up how to summon you again. I want to make a deal.”

“A deal?” You pull back from him, breaking all contact. “Mark, what the hell. Don’t you know what making a deal with a demon means?”

He cuts you off with a shake of his head, dismissive. “I don’t care. I know the risk, but, fuck, I swear you got me addicted to you. Just a few hits, and I crave you.”

“Why would you want to make a deal with me? A binding pact?” You push at his chest and Mark takes a step back to balance. “Are you fucking stupid? You think I want your soul, Mark Lee? You had a good soul, a pure one. That’s why I left you and never looked back! Some things are too good starting out, and tarnishing them with my hands....” You look down at your hands, and you can see through the glamor you wear, down to your real form the ashen hell-burnt flesh.

Mark’s watching you when you look up at him. But he doesn’t look afraid, doesn’t look sad or sorry.

His eyes still burn with need.

“I don’t want your soul,” you tell him, “So I don’t want a deal.”

Mark takes another step back from you. “But I want you. So take the damned deal. Fuck me.”

“And what do you get out of it? You won’t get fame or fortune or health from this deal. You literally just get to fuck a demon until you die, so no, that’s not good enough.” If you were human you’d be sick to your stomach right now. What Mark’s offering you, if he were anyone else you would take the deal, but Mark Lee was a good man when you met him; he was cute and innocent, a pure soul that you wanted to protect so you left for his own good. You couldn’t make him pay the price of being with you.

No, Mark shakes his head in denial and desperation. He comes close to you again, standing just an inch away from you, close enough that both of you can feel each other, but not close enough that any part of you is actually touching.

“Just touch me, please.” Mark pleads. “I miss your touch. The way you made me feel, I’ve been chasing that high for months, and nothing compares. Please.”

You want to touch him. You really, really do.

With a groan of frustration, you cup Mark’s face in your hands. “I’m going to be the death of you,” you tell him in the moment before your lips meet his.

The kiss is absolutely intoxicating. Mark moans and wraps around you, moving backwards toward his bed, limbs tangling together as you both collapse onto his sheets. You pin him beneath you, kissing the air from his lungs, your fingers sliding down the front of his shirt, buttons falling open just at your touch. And when your fingertips move a bit lower, grazing the front of his pants, you find that he’s devastatingly hard.

He rolls his hips up against your hand, groaning into the kiss, whimpering delightfully when you squeeze his erection.

You sit up on him, and Mark follows, needy for your kiss. His mouth crashes against yours, sharp and hot. You push his shirt off his shoulders, and you let him roll you under him, your body nestled into his sheets as Mark unbuttons his fancy slacks, pushing them down enough that you can see his cock pop out.

You grab onto the edges of his pants, dragging him forward up your body, and you all but throw your mouth onto his cock.

Much like the last time, Mark seems caught off guard by the way you make him feel. He moans loudly, fingers knotting in your hair. But unlike the last time, he quickly recovers, seems to know what to do to get exactly what he wants, using his hands in your hair to direct your mouth.

When you can see it in his face that he’s enjoying this a bit too much, you pull off, using your hand on him instead, looking up at him as you jerk him off over your chest.

“Mmm, fuck,” Mark moans, a hand running over his chest and down his abs. “No one makes me feel this good. Not with anything they’ve done to me.” He thrusts forward into your hand. “I need to feel you around me.”

You nod. You want it too. You’re ready for him, and he’s clearly more than ready for you. Mark quickly disposes of his pants, climbing back on the bed, sinking in to kiss you again, and you fall into the kiss, more intoxicating than anything you’ve ever felt. With a hand to his chest, you press Mark onto his back, and you climb over him, straddling his thighs.

You don’t break the kiss, just reach down as you move forward to situate yourself over him. Teasing the head of his erection against your wet, dripping entrance, Mark whines, shifting his hips up eagerly. “Patience,” you murmur, and you leave his lips behind to kiss down his throat, down the center of his chest, and you glance up at him as you allow his tip to slide inside you just as you circle your tongue on one of his nipples.

He bucks up, wanting to bury himself inside you, but you’ve already pulled away again.

“Thought you said you’d know what to do now?” You ask, flicking your tongue over his pebbled nipple. “When are you going to prove that? Because from where I’m sitting--” you sit upright, right down on him so his erection is trapped between his abdomen and your wet heat, “--you’re still the innocent boy who doesn’t now how to fuck me.”

You’re not entirely sure how he does it, flipping from submissive boy trapped beneath you to you suddenly being on your back with Mark’s mouth ravaging your throat, and his cock rutting between your legs, still not inside you, but now it’s you who groans at the tease. His erection glides over your clit, and each time you feel a zip of pleasure.

You grip at his arms, fingers digging into muscle, and then Mark’s cock slips and on the next thrust, he fucks right into you.

Both of you moan as he sinks inside you, his teeth catch at your throat, instantly soothed again by his lips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Mark mumbles the words against your skin. “You’re so soft, warm. Heavenly.” He buries his face in your neck, his entire body presses against yours--chest and hip, legs tangled together as he shallowly fucks into you while sucking at your throat.

This is intimate and strange and fascinating and fantastic. Your usual partners are just quick fucks that you feed off of their sexual energy and then you leave. It’s not intimate at all, no matter how many times you’d fucked them, there was no intimacy--rarely were attempts made by them, and never by you--but here you can’t get enough of this. You just want Mark closer until you can’t feel where your form ends and Mark begins.

Your fingernails scrape the back of his neck, twisting in his hair as you bring his busy lips from your throat to your lips, needing to satiate the hunger.

This is pure lust, addiction to him and his addiction to you.

You’re not even feeding off the sexual energy of this intercourse, just existing in the moment for the carnality of it all.

Mark’s thrusts grow bigger, deeper, more powerful, and you wrestle with him, letting him stay on top until suddenly you want him beneath you. You want to fuck him, to ride him, and that lasts for a bit until you’re on your belly pressed into the bed, Mark thrusting into you from behind with his lips against your cheek as he murmurs praises. There’s teeth and nails, Mark’s hair sticks to his forehead with sweat. He shivers in delight when you press him again beneath you, circling your hips on his cock, tracing your fingers over the raised pink lines from your nails down his chest.

He looks high, his pupils wide, his skin flushed, and he’s alive with a glowing energy that calls out to you, begging you to drink it in. But you don’t want that here. You just want this, to feel a part of this, to make him feel the best you can because experiencing sex like this with Mark where you’re not using your demon powers feels absolutely insane, makes you feel even better than when you do answer that call, and drink off the energy of your partner.

His hand snaps against your ass, and you realize you’ve just been sitting there, gazing down at him in admiration. “Move, baby.” And he does it again.

“Fuck, Mark. Do you go to confession and tell the priest that you dream about getting fucked by a demon like this?” You roll your hips, sinking forward until your lips are beside his ear. “Do you confess your sins. Forgive me, Father, but I let a demon into my life. She fucked me so good I stopped being a priest because her pussy is worth it.”

Mark moans.

“Forgive me, Father, but when I was a priest, she made me cum for her in the Church, on holy ground.” You squeeze around his cock, and he lets out a beautiful sound. “Mmm, forgive me, Mark, but I think no amount of confession will make up for sinning like this, loving every single thing we’re doing right now.”

“Holy--!” Mark’s voice cuts off as you sit up, curling your delicate fingers around his throat. His eyes roll back from the pleasure, and you just smile down at him, applying pressure to his throat and circling your other thumb around his nipple. He blinks and looks up at you, his mouth hanging open in soundless awe and appreciation, his eyes glowing with lust and something else. You just want to make him feel good.

You press forward, unable to hold back, needing to feel his lips on yours as you ride him, as you feel that pleasure seeping through your body, a warm silvery-golden glow as your toes curl and your body goes warm and light and fuzzy.

Mark’s hands are on you -- on your hips and your hands and in your hair and on your thighs, touching you all over, pressing you down as he bucks up into you, and then he’s cumming and it feels so good too, better than when the others have done it.

You keep kissing him, rolling your hips down on him, wanting to keep this feeling going. It’s one you’ve never truly felt before.

But eventually it must end, and you roll off to the side, and Mark follows, not wanting to let you get too far. He tucks his face against your neck, breath hot and damp on your skin, and his thigh slips comfortably between yours. You feel sticky and sweaty all over in places you didn’t know you could be sweaty, and you feel like you need to catch your breath.

Mark drops a singular tiny kiss to the center of your chest, and then he pulls back, his head resting on one side of the pillow, yours on the other, only a few bare inches between the tips of your noses. You’ve never been this close to a human before (on multiple levels) and you don’t pull back.

“I made a deal with a demon,” Mark whispers, and he uses a finger to brush back a section of sweaty hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Or at least, I meant to. Don’t leave me.”

“Mark, I won’t kill you.” You tell him, absolutely refusing to let this go where he seems to carelessly want it to go.

His fingers tighten in your hair. “Then give it up. I want you. All the time. And it’s not just because you’re a succubus. I know that’s part of the enchantment, I completely understand that, but I know in a deeper place in my heart that I crave you in a way that’s separate from your crazy, mystical demon powers, okay? Give it up.”

You stare into his eyes, his wide and innocent and hopeful eyes. You want to do it for him. You want to give Mark whatever he asks for. But... “I can’t. This is who I am, I can’t just give up being a succubus. It’s what I was brought into existence to be.”

Mark shakes his head. “I refuse to believe that. You’re a demon, but what are demons except fallen angels.” His thumb strokes over your cheek. “And I see an angel when I look at you.”

You roll your eyes and push his hand away. You sit up, ready to leave his bed, to flee into the unknown from him. But Mark’s fingers circle tightly around your wrist.

“I know how to summon you, I’ll just bring you back,” he says.

“And if I asked you not to?” You flex your wrist, testing his hold. “If I told you that I truly wanted you to leave me alone. What then?”

Mark’s hand falls away and he closes his eyes, turning onto his back to face the ceiling. “I would leave you alone. I would wish I could have convinced you to stay. Because I can see that you want to be here as much as I want you to stay.” He opens his eyes, looking right at you. “You gave me your name before you left, you opened this path for me to find you again, so you must have wanted me to, right?”

Right.

“So stay. I’m a theological man, and I’ve done my research into demonology and the supernatural, into good and evil. You think you’re just a demon, but I think you’re an angel, and somewhere in between where you stand and where I stand is a happy medium, a place where you and I can have this--” he gestures between your two bare bodies in his bed “--without you being afraid of destroying my soul.”

This is absolutely ridiculous.

You want it more than you can explain.

“Make a deal with me, demon.” Mark says, taking your hand in his, guiding it to his chest. He presses your palm flat over his heartbeat. “Stay with me, and I’ll help you become the angel that I know you are.”

This story began with a demon set on destroying her sexual victims and with a priest certain of his fate as a celibate holy man, and now you’re here. Both of you have already come so far from where you began.

You take Mark’s hand, guiding it so his palm lays over where your heart would be.

“The deal is true.” You tell him, and Mark gazes into your eyes as he repeats those words back to you, and just like that a bond is formed, a pact made, and you sink down against him, pressing your cheek to his chest as his arms wrap around you.

And this time you stay.

a/n: oops, I knew as soon as I first read this message that it was probably going to end up as a drabble, but damn I didn’t think I’d make it this long lol

If you liked it please reblog, like, comment. If you’re into the corruption of religious figures thing, definitely also check out Righteous a 5-part series by the wonderful @skzctnightnight it’s not got demons but it does have seminarian student Mark being tempted by the reader and it’s very hot and good

#mark smut #mark lee #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut

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realcube · 3 years

Text

trying to be nice to their crush hcs

navi | masterlist | taglist

thank you to 🍦anon for this cute request!

characters: tsukishima, kyōtani, sakusa & suna

content warning: swearing & sexual references

kei tsukishima

♡ this is all yamaguchi’s fault （︶^︶）

♡ he found out tsukki had a crush on you bc he mentioned you a lot in conversation so yamaguchi interrogated him for answers then lo and behold, the beanpole had a lil thing for you

♡ you sit in front of tsukishima in homeroom while yamaguchi sits beside him so when you leaned back and asked him if you could borrow a pencil and he spat back a snarky remark about you being too irresponsible to care for your own pencils, yamaguchi hastily offered you one of his own before scolding tsukishima

♡ he explained to his clueless friend that being nasty to people isn’t a good way to get them to like you

♡ so perhaps he should be nicer :)

♡ honestly, tsukishima would’ve just looked yamaguchi straight in the eyes and went ‘no’, if it wasn’t for the fact you shot tadashi the sweetest smile anD PLAYFULLY BLEW HIM A KISS AFTER HE JUST GAVE YOU A DAMN PENCIL LIKE WTF

♡ after that, he decided to give up his current personality and pick up a new one

♡ jk jk

♡ but he had to binge a whole bunch of those youtube psychology videos that are like ‘psychological tricks to make people like you’ and ‘THESE 5 MIND TRICKS WILL MAKE YOU THE MOST POPULAR PERSON *EVER*’!!

♡ spoiler alert: he wasn’t the most popular person but perhaps that was bc he only went to the effort of using those tricks on you

♡ god bless him; he tries hard, he really does. (not his best, just hard)

♡ but you don’t have to be extremely observant to realise that he’s began acting different around you and of course, it confused you seeing tsukishima being nice

♡ what irritated you was how dismissive he was being of your questions though, as he was clearly trying to lead you to believe that you were crazy and he’s just always been a nice guy

♡ but as soon as he figures out that he angered you, he’ll instantly switch back to him normal self - draining his mind of the hours of phycology studying he did last night to just pretend like it never happened

♡ and if he’s feeling flirty, he might be extra mean to you （￣︶￣）

♡ also he makes a mental note to never take yamaguchi’s romance advice ever again 🙄

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you sighed, removing your hand from your bag after desperately rummaging through it in search of a pencil once again - deja vu. once you accepted that a pencil wasn’t going to materialise out of thin air, you peered over your shoulder and tapped the corner of yamaguchi’s desk, who wore a suspicious grin which you decided against questioning.

“yamaguchi, do you think i could borrow a pencil again? sorry, this is the last time, i swear. i’ll be sure to get some on my way home after school tod--”

yamaguchi dropped the line him and tsukishima had rehearsed many times beforehand, while clutching his pencilcase dear to his chest, “woah, (y/n). you’re so irresponsible. sorry, i can’t lend one of my pristine pencils to someone who is too forgetful to remember to buy some; what if you forget to return it to me?”

tsukishima cringed at how forced it sounded but he couldn’t help but admire yamaguchi's dedication to his role. this allowed tsukishima to swoop in, pencil in hand, “here.” that wasn’t in the script but he panicked! okay, now, eye contact.

you just sat there and stared at both of them with the most dumbfounded look plastered on your face. what just happened? why were they both acting like they were in drama class? and why are they both so bad at acting? they’re both passing performing arts for fucks’ sake!

kentarō kyōtani

♡ sorry but i firmly believe kyōtani is the sorta guy to be extra mean to ppl he fancies smh

♡ the rest of them just act (somewhat) like themselves around their crush but kyōtani is himself2 (himself^2)

♡ like one time yahaba found you trembling in your locker bc you had gotten mud on mad dog’s white shoes so he chased you through the hallways of the school, threatening to trek mud on your forehead

♡ yahaba took it upon himself to investigate as to why kyōtani was so rude to you and he got his answer as soon as he mentioned your name to mad dog and the boy’s face immediately flushed red

♡ so after practise, yahaba schools mad dog on how to get chicks (⌐■_■)

♡ in short, his advice was ‘good guys get laid’ and for kyōtani’s understanding, ‘good’ and ‘kind’ were interchangeable

♡ mad dog wasn’t completely oblivious to how he treated you and he was aware that he was far from ‘kind’

♡ although he usually doesn’t listen to people in general, yahaba seemed to know what he was talking about so he figured there was no harm in trying to be nice

♡ but ngl, he just spent the rest of the day wondering...what is kind?

♡ after a few messages back and forth with yahaba, he figured that the best place to start was by apologising for - y’know - chasing you around the whole school

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

“oi!” kyōtani bellowed through hallway, paying no mind to the students that cast him dirty looks as his sights were locked on you. standing unsuspecting by your locker, stuffing your textbooks into your bag until you heard his deep voice echo through the hall, to which you visibly perked up and began frantically looking around.

he marched towards you, hands in pockets and when you noticed him out of the corner of your eye, you were more than ready to drop all your shit and bolt away. but he didn’t let you as before you were able to take off on your heels, he grabbed your shoulder and spun you around to face him - then he noticed your hands raised in defence by your face and your head hung low.

his heart sank and his grip on your shoulder immediately softened, “i’m not gonna punch you, idiot.” he spat, rolling his eyes and gritting his teeth, trying to appear angry in hopes you’d mistake his light blush for pure rage.

“i just wanted to say that i felt bad for chasing you through the halls yesterday - you didn’t stand a chance so i guess it was a bit unfair.” he said, frowning as you replied with silence so the duty fell on him to fill it, “and i got the stain out, anyway so.”

more silence. lovely.

suddenly, he puffed his cheeks out as his eyes snapped to meet yours and he roared, “ARE YOU GONNA FUCKING SAY SOMETHING OR ARE YOU TOO BRAINDE-”

“are you wearing eyeliner?”

and that was the true story behind why you missed last period, because you and kyōtani had a 30 minute conversation about eyeliner and make-up, then he convinced you to skip the rest of class with him so he could buy you ramen as an apology gift.

so yeah, he figured that perhaps he should try being nice more often.

kiyoomi sakusa

♡ he didn’t need someone to tell him to be nicer, he’s just predisposed to attempt to show kindness to someone he is fond of

♡ in his mind, showing kindness, respect and stripping himself of all his personality = the only way to be desirable

♡ (ofc this takes place before he meets atsumu tho lol)

♡ so it’s not the realisation that’s the problem for him, it’s the execution

♡ like how is he supposed to be nice without either sounding creepy or condescending?

♡ *cut to sakusa practising in the bathroom mirror* ‘your hand looks- no-’ he scoffs, flicking cold water onto his face, ‘your hair looks cool- pretty- nice?’

♡ *camera pans to sakusa laying in bed, staring intently at the ceiling while imagining vivid and scarily detailed scenarios about ways he could mess up while talking to you*

♡ *camera zooms in on sakusa’s face as he manifests a nicer version of himself*

♡ he might - depending on how insecure he is - watch one of those psychology videos or read a wikihow for help

♡ but other than that, he independently tries to alter his personality in order to gain your favour bc..true love ?

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you smiled as a basketball rolled up to your feet during gym class, followed by the sound of someone approaching you and upon raising your gaze, your eyes met sakusa’s unmistakable black ones. his face hovered only a few inches away from yours due to the fact you had both reached down to pick up the ball at the same time.

he quickly pulled himself away, tucking the basketball under his elbow as he adjusted his mask so it properly covered his face to ensure that you didn’t see the light blush slowly spreading across his cheeks. he then proceeded to blurt out what he had been rehearsing for the past few nights, “oh, thank you, (y/n). your hair looks lovely today, by the way.”

you giggled, holding your hands firmly by your side to avoid fidgeting and making it obvious that his sudden comment flustered you, “thanks, sakusa. and, if we’re handing out compliments today, i didn’t know you were good at any sport other than volleyball but you’re doing surprisingly well at basketball.” you joked, your lips slowly curling into a cocky smirk, “though, i don’t think you’d stand a chance against my team.”

god, you’re such a tease. you make it so hard for him to be nice to you. so, of course, your comment returned his ability to utter almost every sarcastic comment that comes to mind - screw being likeable. “you think so?” he quirked a brow, tossing the ball onto your lap then pacing backwards, “go on, then.”

rintarō suna

♡ it was probably those tips on social media that told him he has to be nicer

♡ and plus he saw terushima get all the chicks and he was just sitting there like ‘where are my bitches at? 🥺’

♡ anyway, all the guys on social media that had girls lining up outside their door always had one thing in common: misogyny obnoxious personalities !!

♡ and his whole personality was a sacrifice suna was willing and ready to make for just a crumb of cooch 🤲

♡ though you weren’t exactly his crush yet, suna thought you were the best person to carry out this experiment with bc he heard through the grapevine that you had a crush on him so perhaps this would make you happy

♡ he didn’t prepare much beforehand though which he immediately regretted as soon as he approached you bc admittedly, his game plan of ‘be self-assured but friendly’ was a bit vague

♡ so he basically just had to bullshit through a whole, awkward conversation with you while wearing a forced ‘bold’ smirk which, in reality, looked as though he had just seen tiddies for the first time

♡ hardly self-assured or friendly

♡ also, the fact you thought he was playing a prank on you must’ve drastically altered the results of his experiment

♡ at one point he says something extremely stupid you’d just quit playing along and just blurt out ‘wtf is wrong with you today’

♡ to which he’d be like ‘ahaha, nuthin much bbg, how bout you?’

♡ THE EXPERIEMNT ISN’T OVER UNTIL HE SAYS IT’S OVER OKAy?!

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you rubbed your temples in order to soothe the throbbing headache suna gave you simply by existing. like yes, you had a crush on him 10 minutes ago - but that was before he came up to you and started acting like terushima on dodgy medication. “oh and your skin is glowing bab--”

“jesus christ, rintarō, shut up!” you cried, gripping the edge of your skirt to prevent your self from delivering a swift punch right to his stupid face. he’s seriously gotten on all your nerves at this point; firstly, by spamming your phone in the middle of the night asking for homework answers (accompanied by cursed memes) as he actually managed to wake you up. secondly, by acting so oblivious to the fact you clearly had a crush on him and now, this!

heat rose to his cheeks in embarrassment as his creepy smile instantly fell right back into his resting bitch face, “this isn’t working, is it?”

“what’s not working?”

suna scoffed, rolling his eyes - his façade having evidently disappeared. “this.” he sighed, looking around as if someone was going to save him before his eyes finally settled on you and he was reminded of what he wanted in the first place, his sparkle was rekindled for just a moment which caused him to blurt out, “just fuck me already, i’m not asking for much.”

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noteguk · 3 years

Text

for science | jhs | m

— summary; in which Hoseok hears through the grapevine that you give one of the best blowjobs ever, and he needs to test it to be sure.

— contents and warnings; blowjob (duh), dirty talk, praising and stupid pet names, cum eating, deepthroating (the oc has no gag reflex), Hoseok finds heaven, kind of crack? Idk don’t take this seriously, college!au, hoseok x reader (with a mention of past Jimin x reader), studying sessions being interrupted in the name of science

— words; 5,1k

Requested by anon!

Hoseok could be kind of clueless when it came to some science-related things (and his high school biology teacher could attest to that), but one thing he knew very well was the scientific method. All that hypothesis-testing-stuff, or whatever the hell that was (okay, maybe he didn’t know it that well) had taken him out of some trouble in the past. It helped him see some of his decisions in a more experimental light, avoiding the terrible Olympic-somersault-into-conclusions that had gotten so many of his friends into awkward situations. And it shouldn’t even be said that he took quite a bit of pride in that — it made him feel very intelligent and he would take any stroke to the ego that he could get.

So, when Jimin got a bit too tipsy and started babbling on about how you gave him the best blowjob of his life, Hoseok was, at the very least, cautiously skeptical.

“You’re such a drama queen.” Hoseok rolled his eyes before chugging down a bit more of his beer. He was nowhere near as intoxicated as Jimin was, and he wasn’t planning on changing that. It was a Wednesday night, for fuck’s sake. He had to leave some thrill to the end of the week. “It probably was like… alright. Good, even. But the best one ever? Please.”

“It was so much more than alright, dude.” Jimin threw his head over the couch’s back, looking like he just got washed up on the shore. His hair was a mess of clear strands, exploding on his head like a failed science fair experiment. “It was the best suck of my liiiiife. I wish she didn’t hate me so I could have that again.”

He scoffed. Hoseok had enough filter left in him to avoid telling Jimin that the reason why you hated him was entirely his fault — what did he expect from three weeks of ghosting? Besides, if the head was that good, he would surely stick around for just a bit longer than two months. “Sure. Like the time that you almost died riding a roller coaster.”

“Hey. I almost did.” Jimin’s eyes opened, presenting his friend with a dazed-out, unfocused brand of frustration. He was getting tired of not being taken seriously — didn’t Hosoek know that alcohol makes you more honest? He wasn’t making things up. Not when they were as serious as the well-being of his dick, or actual death. “It was some Final Destination bullshit, I’m telling you. Pieces of metal flying and everything.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved it off, leaning closer to Jimin so he could take the almost-empty can of beer from his clumsy hands, and placed it on the center table. “I think you’ve had enough alcohol for tonight, man. You have a class at ten tomorrow.”

“I’m serious, dude,” Jimin pressed on. It was past eleven and Hoseok only wanted to sleep, but the other boy was clearly clueless about the lack of mutual interest in that conversation. “Aren’t you two friends or something?”

“Kind of. It’s weird,” Hoseok answered. You two had lingered in a hazy friendship space for a long time now, and he didn’t know exactly how to explain your relationship. He didn’t really consider you two close by any means, but you weren’t strangers or casual friends either. To be honest, he hadn’t thought too much about it until that very moment. “Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

Jimin sighed, fumbling against the sofa. Much to Hoseok’s delight, he was starting to get sleepy as well. “You could ask her to suck you off,” he mumbled, “then you can feel it for yourself.”

He laughed at that, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Jimin, you’re out of your mind if you think that’s not gonna backfire.”

He blinked heavily. “Hm? Why?”

Hoseok blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “We aren’t that close, and we haven’t done anything remotely sexual before this. It would be super creepy.”

“That’s not true,” Jimin spoke lazily, as if the words were starting to get hard to find. There was a pause so long after his sentence that Hoseok thought his roommate had fallen asleep. “I know you guys made out like at the beginning of the semester. Taehyung told me so.”

He was going to murder Taehyung. “It wasn’t like that. We were both drunk and it was super awkward afterwards.” Hoseok got up from the couch, leaving Jimin to groan and spread out his legs over the cushions. “Listen, I’m glad you two had fun, and I’m sorry you ruined it. But I’m not gonna ask ____ to suck me off just so I can know if you’re being dramatic or not.”

Jimin smirked wickedly — or at least tried to, because his lack of facial control wasn’t doing him any favors. “Whatever you say,” he teased, “but I think you’re curious.”

Truth was: Hoseok was beyond curious. The cogs in his head had started to move, and his brain was evoking lewd images of you so fast that he could barely follow. He would be pretending if he said that he never saw you under that light before, but, after the mess that was your makeout session, he had forced himself to jump into the friendzone before he managed to make things worse.

Hoseok liked you very much, even if you two weren’t particularly close. He enjoyed spending time with you, he found you funny, smart, and way out of his league. But he wasn’t delusional enough to believe that you would actually say yes to sucking him off, especially so out of the blue.

“I’m not curious,” Hoseok lied through his teeth, and he wanted to change the subject so much that his head was starting to hurt. “You’re gonna sleep here?”

“Hm… yes… the couch is very comfortable.” Jimin closed his eyes and adjusted his body on the furniture. His baggy shirt was already halfway through his stomach and his pants had ran up to his waist, but the man didn’t seem to notice. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes, moving towards the door. He needed to get Jimin some blankets, because the other was surely not getting up for the rest of the night. It was bad enough to babysit him for those few hours of intoxication, but infinitely worse to make him chicken soup if he got sick. Been there, done that. “I’m sure the couch is great.”

Jimin’s voice was soft and sleepy when he spoke up again. Hoseok was already in the corridor, and he almost didn’t hear him when he said, “I’m not talking about the couch.”

Hoseok went to Jimin’s bedroom and grabbed his pillow and the blanket from his undone bed. Meanwhile, scenarios ran wild inside his head, having you as the main star. He didn’t know what was taking over him, but he wasn’t so quick to ignore Jimin’s story. Hoseok was faced with a fantastic scenario of a perfect blowjob, and the idea that it was so close to him was making his pulse quicken. Again: it would be absurd to ask you to do that, regardless of the motive behind it, and he knew that it would be awful for your already-strange friendship.

No, he could never do that. He would not.

But like… what if it worked, and you magically accepted his request? And what if, by some wonderful moment, some millennial alignment of planets, Jimin wasn’t actually being hyperbolic and you actually had the ability to give incredible blowjobs? Could he really let it pass without giving it a shot?

He could see it as a scientific experiment, Hoseok thought, as a way to prove a hypothesis. It couldn’t hurt if he just—

Oh my god, dude, shut the fuck up and forget about this.

Coming back to his senses, Hoseok strutted out of his roommate's bedroom and walked toward the living room. By the time he came back with the blanket and the pillow, Jimin was already deep asleep.

Against his best efforts, that conversation remained stuck to the back of his mind for the next two weeks. Hoseok would find himself going back and forth on the idea of you having some strange, Marvel-worthy superpower when it came to sucking dick and, worst of all, the idea that his skepticism was making him miss out on it. Jimin was exaggerated when it came to, well, pretty much everything, but that didn’t mean that he would be wrong about that specific subject. That would be a logical fallacy, and that was also something that Hoseok knew very well. Bless his late nights on Reddit for that.

Yet as the days moved along, and his curiosity was slowly turning into desire, he was forced to revisit the infamous night between the two of you, the one that Jimin had so mercilessly mentioned. Thinking back on it, it wasn’t surprising that your overconsumption of alcohol, added to the way that you two had grown close (both physically and mentally) had ended up with Hoseok laying on top of you, kissing the soul out of you and fondling your breasts in the middle of a party. It wasn’t the most dignified moment of either of your lives, but, well, it happened.

One way or another, the night didn’t move forward. Even if Hoseok already had a tent in his pants, you two were far too intoxicated to consent, and were quick to fall asleep before the situation could escalate. Bottom line: Hoseok woke up with your tit in his hand, a nightmarish hangover, and the decision that the You-Subject would have to stay on hold for some time.

And on hold it stayed. For an entire semester. And it would’ve remained that way if Jimin’s stupid mouth hadn’t started talking.

So after two weeks of self-inflicted psychological torture, Hoseok slipped a hangout invitation amidst your texts. If you saw any second intentions behind his “haven’t seen you in awhile, wanna hangout? ;)” you didn’t let it show. The problem was that you weren’t really in the mood to go out, especially since you had a big exam coming up, so Hoseok ended up convincing you that he would stay quiet if you let him go over to your place.

It was a bit harder not to notice the desperation in his proposal that time, but you ended up agreeing. Your thought process was that the boy would eventually realize that his hangout attempt was ridiculous and that he would leave you to study by yourself, and the two of you would reschedule that odd friendship session to when you weren’t drowning in textbooks.

The problem was that you had been stupid enough to believe that your friend would actually keep his mouth shut.

Hoseok was seated on the edge of your bed for so long that he was sure that his asscheeks were permanently imprinted on your sheets. Because he hated himself, he kept eyeing the digital clock to your right, and he was certain that he had spent the last fifty two minutes and thirty three seconds staring at the back of your head and trying to come up with a casual way to ask for a blowjob.

He had tried a few times already, and each one constituted of him being unable to finish his sentence, instead looking at you like BooBoo The Fool until you turned back around to face your disorganized desk, sighing and trying to concentrate on your work.

All things considered, he couldn’t actually believe he had escalated Jimin’s sailor tale to that point. He was out of his mind, that was a fact, and he had absolutely no clue how you would react once he (if he) found the words to ask you to sacrifice your mouth for science.

God, he was an idiot.

He cleared his throat and got ready to try one more time. “So… I…”

You sighed heavily and turned around on the chair. “Hobi, this is the fifth time you’re starting a sentence and not finishing it,” you said, annoyed. “Can you tell me what the problem is? I have a test in two days and you promised you wouldn’t interrupt me if you came over.”

“I’m sorry,” he didn’t like feeling like a kid being scolded, even if he kind of deserved that. Hoseok guessed it would be better to just take off the band-aid before he made an even bigger fool out of himself. “Let me just, like, explain the context of this. Otherwise it’s going to be even more strange.”

Dropping your pen, you fully swirled the chair around, crossing your hands over your legs. He wasn’t expecting your complete attention anytime soon, and the seriousness in your stare made his courage falter for a second. It was such a stupid idea, you’d just end up hating him like you did Jimin. “As long as you make it quick,” you told him.

Hoseok hesitated, running one hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay, so… like, a few weeks ago I was talking to Jimin,” he started, watching your face for any signal of an expression — confusion, disgust, anything. But he found nothing. “We were drunk, and he started talking about the time that you two were together. Like, sexually.”

You blinked, unfazed. “And?”

“And… he told me that you give, like, the best blowjobs in history,” the words left his mouth before he could fully digest them. This time, he got a reaction out of you — a light raise of your eyebrows. “And, no offense, but I didn’t believe him. You know how extra he is about some stuff. Most stuff.”

There was a moment of silence as you waited for him to go on, but Hoseok was too busy swallowing his thoughts down and feeling like he would collapse at any given moment. You sighed. “So what? You wanted to tell me that you don’t believe in my blowjob abilities? That’s all? Can I go back to studying now?”

“No, that’s…” Now, things were starting to get complicated. Just take off the band-aid, Hoseok, don’t chicken out now. “I wanted to know if you could show me. Like, if you could suck me off. So I could... confirm that hypothesis.”

Every part of his brain was suddently hyperaware of how fucking stupid he just sounded. He had expected that another thick silence would follow, but his heart almost leaped out of your chest when you started laughing at him — like, full-chest, eyes closing, head rolling back laughing. “Are you serious?” You asked, taking one hand to cover your mouth before, at last, bursting out again. He felt like his ego was being stabbed with a rusty nail. “I can’t believe you, Hoseok. Took you all this time just to ask me if I could suck you off? For science?”

His mouth felt like it was full of cotton and he had to clear his throat before he found the force to answer you. “Yeah, I mean, only if you’re comfortable with it, of course,” he struggled to say, each word morphing into the next. His stomach had frozen up and the flight or fight response was starting to kick in. Had he really been that much of an idiot? When did his cock start dictating his words? “I… I know this is like, super creepy. I’m sorry. We can forget this ever happened and I’ll never talk to you again. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Suddenly sad, he waited as you settled back on the chair, wiping a small tear from the corner of your eye before you stared at him. There was still a smirk crawling up your lips, and he felt like the world was collapsing all around him as the silence expanded around the two of you. He looked at the digital clock: it had taken him precisely three minutes to ruin everything.

He sighed, shoulders falling. “Do you hate me? Why are you so quiet?”

You bit down on your lip, your eyes narrowing as you took his form in. Hoseok was hot: point blank. He was also nice, and respectful enough to realize that he might have overstepped a few lines with his request — and, even if you couldn’t really understand it, you also weren’t bothered by it. And you certainly didn’t hate him. In a way, you were almost flattered. You would’ve been more if the comment had come from anyone else but your Danny Phantom ex. But that was a different story.

The entire situation was just too funny to let it go. And, besides, you really wouldn’t mind sucking Hoseok off. It wasn’t as if you had never thought about that before.

“I’m... considering it,” you told him, watching as his face lit up in a mixture of confusion and joy. He looked like a kid seeing Santa for the first time. “If you promise to shut up and let me study, I’ll do it. And if you agree to never talk about it again.”

Hoseok blinked profusely, his mind short circuiting. “For real?”

“Yeah.” You raised from your chair, walking closer to your bed. Hoseok swallowed hard and leaned back, placing his hands on the mattress for support. “But do me a favor: if it’s not that good, don’t tell me. It’ll hurt me.”

“Yeah, alright.” He swallowed dry, every neuron in his brain trying to grasp what the fuck had just happened. His mind was the Spongebob office being set on fire, and he suddenly didn’t know how to deal with the anticipation booming in his chest. “I’m... not hard yet, though.”

“It’s okay.” You kneeled in front of him, placing your hands on his inner thighs and slightly pushing them apart. Hoseok quickly got the cue, and opened a bit more so you could comfortably place yourself between them. “Just... relax,” your voice was almost a whisper then, and he felt his soul trying to leave him. That was insane. “Let me take care of you.”

Your words managed to make him relax a bit, then he tensed all the way back at the feeling of your hands fumbling with his button. His breath hitched as you pulled the zipper down, fingers hooking on the edge of his pants before tugging them down his thighs.

He felt exposed as his pants fell like a puddle around his ankles, his tongue coming out to wet his lips as you leaned in. Hosoek felt like he was dreaming when you started nibbling at his skin, kissing and licking his inner thighs as you slowly made your way closer to his aching member.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he barely got out before sighing, the tingles of your caresses on his skin shooting directly towards his cock, already semi-hard.

You flicked your eyes up at him, humming against his thigh muscles. You were now so dangerously close to his underwear that he thought he would lose consciousness. “Were you daydreaming about it or something?” You teased.

Maybe in a different position, he would’ve lied about it. But the truth came out before he could hold it back. “Ever since Jimin told me that, yeah,” he said.

“Hmm… hope I live up to the expectation, then,” you purred, looking up at him with those doll-like eyes. Hoseok suddenly felt like he was losing his balance, his entire body burning in desire and expectancy. You looked like another one of his horny daydreams, but you were kneeling right there, in arms reach, and he didn’t know how he would deal with what was about to ensue.

Your mouth was hovering above his clothed cock before he could notice and, delicately, you leaned down to place a kiss on it. The touch was tender, almost numb with the fabric standing between you two, and yet Hoseok shivered, biting down on his lip as one of your hands enveloped his erection. He watched, mesmerized, as you started lazily stroking him through his underwear, leaning your head to the side so you could place heavy kisses on him, at times giving his tip a few kitten licks until it was covered by a thin layer of your saliva.

The sensation left him on edge, silently begging for more. By the time you moved back so you could undress him, Hoseok was a mess of shallow breaths and heavy swallows; his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as pleasure started to build up at the corners of his perception. Biting back a moan of relief, Hoseok raised his hips as you slowly pulled his underwear downward, allowing for his cock to spring free from its confinement. You had done a good job teasing him, because it was already fully hard when it bounced against his abdomen, red-tipped and leaking.

His gaze oscillated between your face and his cock, watching for any reaction as you took one hand to his length, squeezing him firmly. “Fuck,” he let out a grunt, his overwhelmed body responding to the smallest of touches.

You smirked at his reaction, taking a quick glimpse at his devastated features before moving back to what you were doing. Hoseok was so cute, you thought, liking the way he was so responsive.

A shudder ran up Hoseok’s body when your tongue came out between your lips, placing delicate licks on his base. He loved the feeling of your warm muscle against his hardened member, his mind growing eager as you began tracing a path upwards, flattening your tongue against him. His breathing was ragged by the time that you reached his crown, a hum escaping your throat as you lazily swirled your tongue around his tip, covering him with your saliva.

You took your time caressing his slit with your mouth, waiting until he was cursing and panting before you finally wrapped your lips around him. At first, you only took his tip in your mouth, sucking so slowly that Hoseok whined and buckled his hips from the bed, trying to make you move faster.

Wordlessly, you simply placed your palm against his thigh and pressed him back down. Even if that was the last thing he wanted to do, Hoseok accepted your order and settled back against the mattress, grunting as you continued to tease him.

“Please, put it all in,” he begged, starting to lose his trail of thought. “This is torture.”

And maybe another day you would have taken a bit more time torturing him, but, that afternoon, you were kind of in a rush to finish studying. So you complied.

“Oh, fuck, fuck.” His eyes shut and his head was thrown back as you fully sank down on his cock, your tongue flat against him. Before he could stop himself, his hand flew to your hair, yanking at the strands as you moved back up, your hand pumping the parts of him that you couldn’t reach.

“God, your mouth feels so great…” He moaned, back arching as you reached his tip once again, licking it before sinking back down — you took him just a bit deeper that time, and the motion didn’t pass by unnoticed. He was really starting to believe Jimin, and he wondered if maybe he should’ve been more worried about the entire rollercoaster situation. “Ah, that’s it. Just like that.”

You moaned around him, the vibrations making him cry out, desperate. Hoseok couldn’t hold himself back from moving closer to the edge of the bed, his other hand clenching your bedsheets between his fingers as you continued to swallow his cock like it belonged in the hot confinement of your mouth.

“Oh— oh my god, baby,” he grunted, pulling at the strands of your hair. His mind was starting to get hazy, his chest fluttering in a mess of sighs and heavy breaths every time that you sank down on his member; every time you flicked your tongue against his sentitive slit or pumped his base. “That’s really good, you take my cock so well.”

You looked up just to see the mess that Hoseok had turned into. With his mouth parted and eyes glazed over, he looked like he was about to fall apart at any second. He was watching you in complete awe, his eyebrows falling to form a beautiful frown of concentration; tongue coming out to lick his lips. He was so fucked out that you felt yourself getting riled up by his image, a pool of wetness accumulating between your thighs.

“You look so pretty like this.” He exhaled, unaware of his own words. Hoseok was too busy following your swollen, redden lips as they wrapped around his member, your cheeks hollowing after you sucked him with all that you had. Even the small amount of droll around your mouth was enough to make him throb in your hold, a grunt escaping him. “With these — fuck — those pretty lips around my cock, shit. I could watch you forever.”

You hummed around his member again at his words, the vibrations shooting directly at his core, where a rising heat had dangerously grown stronger, signaling his upcoming orgasm. Hoseok loved the way you actually looked like you were enjoying yourself, moaning and whimpering around his cock as you took all of him in your mouth, eyes closing every time he throbbed inside you. The eagerness in which you took him in, like you were starving for his cock, was one of the filthiest images that Hoseok had ever seen, and it was one that he knew would haunt his dreams for the years to come.

When you removed his cock from your mouth with a dirty wet sound, Hoseok was about to complain before he saw you licking down his length, one of your hands holding his cock away from your face as your tongue started to play with his balls. It was an odd feeling, but not an unwelcomed one, and it kept him on edge for a little while longer while you played with him.

With a timid whimper, you looked up at him as you licked your way back up to his tip. The image was so hot that he almost fainted, a deep moan escaping his throat when you took him back inside your delicious mouth.

And the truth was clearer than Hoseok had ever expected: Jimin was right.

“Fuck, babe, how did you get this good?” Hoseok grunted, trying his best to focus on the picture-perfect image of your lips wrapped tightly around his throbbing cock. He could tell that his release was starting to build up at an alarming rate, his thighs growing weaker every time you took him inside you. “Oh my- Ngh! Fuck! Oh my god!”

Hoseok’s mind was wiped clean when he felt his tip hitting the back of your throat, his hips buckling up as your throat clenched around him. He was pretty sure he was in heaven then — if he focused, he could hear angels singing all around him — , his pleasure overtaking every cell of his body as you continued sucking the soul out of him.

“Holy fuck, do that again,” he begged, his voice much higher than before. You didn’t need to be asked twice, because, within a second, he was crying out at the feeling of your throat wrapping around his cock one more time; his hands holding tightly to the roots of your hair. The only reason why Hoseok hadn’t started fucking your mouth yet was because he wanted to have you in control, giving him the best head of his life without any interruption. “Fuck, fuck— Baby, you’re so fucking good at this, fuck.”

There was a vague raising of his hips to meet your movements, making him hit the back of your throat again and again, the lewd sounds you were making filling the room. Nothing in his life had ever compared to that instant, he had ever felt a pleasure as great as he did at that point, and he knew it was about to snap.

“God, I’m gonna cum,” he sobbed, finally closing his eyes and letting the pleasure take over. “Fuck, you’re so good, I’m gonna—“

Hoseok filled your mouth with his cum, dripping down your throat when you swallowed around him. His head was spinning and his muscles were trembling, and that time he was unable to hold himself back from thrusting up against your mouth, trying to prolong that divine sensation for as long as he could before, at last, collapsing against the mattress with a final, shaky moan.

He barely heard you when you got up to your feet, his mind floating above his body as he tried to get himself back together. With the little force that he still had inside him, Hoseok leaned on his elbows and stared at you like you were made of gold. “Fuck, ____.” He breathed out, and the only thing he could say was, “What the fuck?”

You giggled at his reaction, thumb cleaning a bit of cum that had painted the corner of your mouth. “I appreciate your feedback,” you teased, pointing over your shoulder, to where your desk stood, forgotten. “Now that you have your answer, can I study in peace?”

“Y-Yeah, sure,” he struggled to say. “I’ll... stay quiet.”

You smiled brightly. “Thanks!”

He thought about thanking you right back for giving him the best orgasm of his life, but he thought that would make everything much more pathetic. So he didn’t.

Hoseok eventually found the motivation within him to put his cock back inside his underwear, clumsily pulling his pants back up. He found himself in the same position he was before everything went down: dumbfounded, staring at the back of your head as you worked on your textbook. The red numbers on the clock told him that just ten minutes had passed, and yet his life had completely changed.

All that he wanted was to return the favor — it was the fair exchange, after all. Hoseok sat up at the edge of the bed and spoke up, filled by a newfound courage. “Wait. Don’t you want me to take ca—”

“Shut the fuck up, Hoseok.”

His mouth fell shut and his courage deflated just as quickly. Maybe another time.

#hoseok #smut #hoseok smut #bts #bts fic #bts smut #bangtan boys #jung hoseok #pwp #drabble #smut drabble #x you #x reader #reader insert #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #college au

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booksweet · 3 years

Note

Could I request a Gojo fic/drabble/whatever based around Halsey’s song Colors?? I feel like it fits Gojo perfectly. Angsty. Fluffy. Whatever you’re feeling.

Hollow Purple

starring: sorcerer!Gojo x human!reader

synopsis: there was happiness when blue and red met, but they didn't know grey would claim their place in between them.

contents/warnings: ANGST, SFW, slightly mention of blood, trauma, violence (if I miss something, please warn me), both reader and Gojo are 18+

WC: + 2k

A/N: hello, anon! I swear to god I tried to make it a fluff, but I coulnd't, it screamed angst on my mind. This request reminded me I'm into writing pain stuff like my heart was broken a thousand times, and I wish I could say sorry for the pain, but I'm NOT hahaha no regrets. Enjoy!

tags @noritoshiikamo

main navi | masterlist

You were gone. You were gone and destroyed every piece of him, every inch of him were carved by you.

He knew by the first time he saw you that you'd have so much power over him, you could end him without even using words.

And that's what happened.

You with your beautiful eyes, and beautiful red dress. You broke him.

His blue eyes now devoid of bright, of color.

But he knew it was his fault.

His fault to insist bringing you to his world while you should've had stayed in yours, oblivion to everything related to jujutsu. Yet, he couldn't regret it. He would never regret meeting you, and being with you this whole time until you got apart.

There he was, above the skies, searching for cursed spirits who ran away from him, their fear reasoned since he was the strongest above all. He couldn't care less about their feelings. Within the curtain, without non-jujutsu sorceres, he just wanted to finish that spirits as fast as he could to call his day off and eat some sweets.

"Guess I'll have to go a little rough now, uh?" With a movement of his hands, he felt his cursed energy shaking inside him like an ocean of power, such powers had he overwhelmed by years until he could plenty control them.

But suddenly he felt another presence, aside cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcerers, he felt a human presence. With a frown of his browns, he took off his blindfolds, revealing beautiful blue eyes, in order to find out who or what was that feeling. His flowing energy all at once disrupted.

And then, he found you. He found you walking calmly through the lonely streets wearing a red dress he could never forget. "What an interesting..." He muttered checking out if you were truly human, six-eyes working hard to find it and, when he was certainly of it, his interest on you just grew even harder.

You were about to cross an alley between two buildings and he took the chance to teleport there by connecting his hands. You took a few steps and stopped to admire some store's window and he couldn't help but wonder how you were still there in that chaotic place so relaxed and withou fear.

"Who are you?" He came closer to you and you stepped back with surprise, staring at that tall white-haired man with suspicious eyes and a smirk on his lips.

"Who's wanna know?" Your hands ready to punch his face if he dared to try something on you. His growing interest reached alarming levels as his heart bumped hard on his chest.

"I'm Gojo Satoru," He said without approaching you, and with a bow, he added. "The strongest above all. At your service."

"The strongest?" You said while lifting your chin up to him in defiance. "Oddly of you to say that, isn't?"

And he at that right moment, he knew he was lost. He was lost to you.

- x -

He was supposed to protect you, he was supposed to take care of you ever since you met. Instead, he brought you danger, he brought you pain, he brought you despair.

What's the point of being blessed with six-eyes if he couldn't protect the only one he cared the most?

Not a bless, but a curse. A sin held upon his shoulders. A burden so heavy he couldn't breath.

A sin so harmful that had stained you. Your naive soul. Innocent. Heavenly.

And he missed you. He missed your red lips. You red clothes. He missed how your smile seemed to warm him just like the red sunset you two watched once. His blue eyes missed staring at your for hours, drowning in yours.

Blue and red.

Red and blue.

Two parts independent from each other, yet they floated against them, their souls wiling to be one.

Convergence and divergence.

Divergence and convergence.

And when both opposites reunite...

The second time you met, Gojo wasn't on a mission and you weren't in danger at all. You had an average day and stopped by a coffee shop to drink some hot coffee, eat your favorite sweet and maybe read your favorite book just to get away from craziness of your life, you wanted to relax. You were at your favorite table, alone, and the costumers were passing around you and you weren't giving them attention when the doorbell left out a "ring!".

He couldn't help but desire some sweets, it was his nature as sweet-eater. He knew he would bring attention to him, he was tall, handsome as hell and was wearing a blindfold, of course everyone would've looked at him.

But you hadn't looked at him. You didn't even take your eyes out of the pages to check what happend at the cafe. Nevertheless, once again you caught his attention and he recognized you from your first meeting. "What do we have here?" He muttered with a glimpse of a smile on the corner of his lips.

He ordered a chocolate cake and signed the waiter to take it to your table. Meanwhile, he moved his long legs on tour way, like you were a force bringing him closer and closer each step. He moved the chair loudly and had his seat in front of you. "Hello, Y/N! Long time no see, ugh?"

Surprised by his suddenly entrance, you put your book down and looked straight at him. That weird man you met months ago, still you felt different about him. "Long time no see, strongest above all" you replied playfully. "What bring your majesty up here?"

— x —

When you third met, it was your first date. That turned into a second, and then a third, a fourth... And suddenly you were about all his life, above your weird friendship. All at once you became the one he needed the most to feel himself.

Yet he chose not to tell you about jujutsu. He chose not to tell you about his powers. About why he couldn't stay a little longer with you at your place. About where he would've been travel out of city for weeks without giving any news if he was okay.

He dissapeared for weeks in a roll. And you worried about him. About his blue eyes. You worried about never going to see him again, even though you didn't figure out what you feared at all.

Once, he came back of one of those long trips, after several weeks of nothing about him, but what he gave you to remind of him — his shirt, a photograph of you two, one of his blindfolds.

And you couldn't help but cry while kissing him. You couldn't help but to say you loved him you never wanted for him to disappear. And he would retrieve, he would say he loved you so hard you had him in your hands. He was yours to be loved, to be destroyed.

The strongest on his knees at a human's mercy.

Had never his eyes sight such a colorful being, such a colorful existence. He was at your mercy, his existence, his entire being was yours to paint, to stain, to rip him apart if you wanted.

And then, when you two lay down together, messy sheets and pillows. Blue and red met once again, but not apart, they were together. That time blue and red turned into a beautiful tone of purple.

— x —

Someday you would find out, he knew it. Yet, he still longed for time to be with you, time to be himself without necessarily being the strongest, the head of his clan, the balance between cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcerers.

But he knew he had no time, you had no time with him. There wasn't enough time with jujutsu and curses. They would've come for you by anytime.

He masked his worries from you. He always seemed so happy in his nonchalant and playful way. Always trying to annoy you and make you laugh everytime you spent together.

You mocked the "strongest above all" out of him every opportunity you had. And this had him caring about you more and more.

But then it wasn't a joke anymore.

Jujutsu were real.

Cursed spirits were real.

And you were just a human.

Alone.

Blood. Red. Everything is red. Everything is blood. Pain. You were in pain screaming. You couldn't see what hurt you, but that ominous feeling was still there in your place. "What happened? What happened? Who are you? Who are you?" You couldn't help keep muttering it like a prayer, thinking of Gojo who was to come by and see your hurt state.

But Gojo Satoru felt the overflowed cursed energy arisen from your place. His bare eyes naked with worry and, for the first time, fear. And then he broke. Every piece of him.

He found you on the floor, muttering non-sense words — including his name in your dizzy state — blood running over you limbs, torso and head. A cut on your beautiful face. And above you, at the ceiling, that goddamn cursed spirit laughing out loud mocking you. Mocking your pain. Your despair.

He ran out of control. He released this powers untamed, uncontrolled. In a blink of an eye he exorcised that cursed spirit from existence. He was furious, feral. He could bring fire to the world if it means to keep you safe, to keep you alive. "Y/N?" He came closer to you, checking out your pulse as his hand held your wrist. It was so weak his heart almost stopped. "Don't leave me, please. You don't deserve to die."

— x —

When everything fell apart, he took you to Shoko at Jujutsu High nursery. She healed your physical wounds in silence while he stayed by your side. You kept unconscious the process, sometimes mumbling while your expression turned into a painful one.

When you woke up at his place, you said nothing. Nothing came out from your mouth, even though he tried to make you speak. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks. You could hear him say "Love, love, love, please, talk to me" in a desperate broken tone.

Yet you couldn't say a thing.

When purple turned into grey, everything faded away. Everything blurred.

Happiness overpowered by despair and pain. You were broken such as the beautiful thing you two had.

"Y/N, please, please, I'm begging," Once more his voice muffled on your ears. Why they hold such pain? "I'm on my knees, Y/N, please, come back, come back to me."

He told you the truth about him so many times expecting some reaction, something from you. Yet he received anything at all. You were numb to reality, there was nothing he could do about that.

But one day, after weeks and weeks of him trying to call you back, you spoke for the first time. Pale eyes meeting him lifeless. And he felt his world falling apart again. "I want to go" You whispered and he widened his pretty eyes full of tears.

"What, Y/N?"

"I want to leave. I wanto to go away from here. Take me out, take me out, take me out..." You kept saying repeatdly, each time a knife stabbing his heart.

"Y/N, love..." He tried to touch your hair, but you moved away from him.

"No, no," You muttered afraid. "It's your fault. The monsters. The blood. The pain..." You shrunk yourself in your bed, crying. "The nightmares. It's your fault." Your crying getting louder and louder. "I wish I could forget you."

"Y/N, I-I," He struggled his words, afraid and crying. "You know I can protect you, you know I will."

Your voice cold in his ears aside your tears. "No, you can't."

— x —

Blue bright eyes once, but not anymore. Not when the reason they shone for now It's gone. When you've chosen to forget him since your accident.

That was what you asked, to forget. To forget the pain, the blood the nightmares, him...

It was quite easy to manipulate your memories, cursed energy manipulation and then it's done. Not that it means it did not hurt him, but it had to be done.

When light came back to your eyes, Gojo's bright faded away.

When you smiled red, blue was not his color anymore.

When your life was colorful, his was grey and devoid of any color.

Red and blue turned into purple. His heart was craved by yours, when you were together.

Purple danced in front of his eyes as his memories overflowed his mind. Blue eyes crying because of red.

Blue eyes seeing grey because now red is gone forever and blue is alone.

#sofi is writing — jjks #jjk gojo #gojo satoru jjk #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo angst #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru jujutsu kaisen #gojo jjk #gojo satoru angst

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