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puckbunnyera · 3 months

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New Friend | Luke Hughes

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genre: fluff (?)

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none

notes: first time writing on this account. will probably end up taking this down or heavily editing as my writing progresses because I'm not sure if I like this one. we'll see 🤷🏽‍♀️.

update: link to part 2 here

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The smell of sweat, alcohol, and cigarette smoke overwhelms my senses as I sit at a booth in the corner of an overcrowded bar that my two best friends have dragged me to in Newark. Nausea swirls in my stomach at the sight of all the intoxicated bodies dancing and stumbling around me. After accompanying them to an intense hockey game between the New Jersey Devils and Chicago Blackhawks, ending with a 4-2 win for the Devils, they had decided that the success of their favorite team called for a celebration.

Not much of a party person, I decide to hang back at a table and keep watch of their belongings while they leave to go dance the night away amongst the other drunk people who litter the bar. To ease the anxious feeling in my chest, I pull my phone from my crossbody bag and open up my Kindle app. I choose the book I have recently been invested in, and I quickly become immersed in it. I'm not sure how much time passes by but I'm just reaching a really intense part in the storyline when a male voice grabs my attention.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Lifting my gaze from my phone screen, I meet with the gaze of a very handsome stranger. Shyness begins to take over as I realize that he's talking to me. My words leave me as I continue to stare at the guy in front of me. My lack of response must come off as apprehension because he quickly begins to apologize.

"Sorry if I scared you." He starts. "The bar is pretty packed and all of the tables are full. My friends ditched me to join the crowd and I'm not really a fan of these types of outings."

"It's fine," I reply as words finally find their way into my brain and out of my mouth. "I don't mind." I gesture to the empty seat at the other side of the booth.

"Cool." He nods, sitting down. "I'm Luke, by the way."

"Y/n." I respond. "Nice to meet you."

"I like your jersey." He refers to the Devil's apparel that I'm still wearing from the game I'd attended earlier in the night.

"Uh, thanks." A blush rises to my cheeks at the unexpected compliment. "It was the first jersey I saw in my size at the fan shop so I bought it."

"I'm assuming you're not a Devil's fan, then."

"Not really." I shrug. "My friends are though. I don't know much about hockey, but they love it. They convinced me to go watch the game with them tonight hence why I bought the jersey. What about you?"

"Kinda have to be considering I play for the team." He responds nonchalantly. His words leave me a little stunned and a lot confused.

"I can't tell if you're lying or not."

"I'm serious." He chuckles. "In fact, that's my last name and number you're wearing right now. Look me up if you don't believe me. Luke Hughes, number 43, of the New Jersey Devils. I won't be offended."

I do just that after picking up my phone from the table from where I had previously abandoned it after he made his appearance. Looking through the Google results, I realize that everything he just said is true.

"Okay, so you are telling the truth. But why would you just openly admit that to me? Aren't you worried that I might run off and tell everyone in the bar that I'm talking to The Luke Hughes? Or post it on the internet or something?"

"No." He shakes his head. "Call me naive, but I don't think that's the type of person you are."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Instinct or whatever you call it." He shrugs, a goofy grin on his face.

"What's it like, being on the ice? It seemed intense, and I was only watching it. I can't even begin to imagine what it must feel like to play."

"It is intense, but I love it." He replies honestly. "I always have."

We continue to talk back and forth for what seems like forever. Taking turns to ask each other questions and sharing random stories that have us laughing, almost to the point of tears. At one point during the conversation, he moves to sit on my side of the booth so he can show me a video of his brother falling off of a board while wake-surfing at their lake house in Michigan. He's in the middle of telling the story of the time he almost had to go streaking across his college campus when he's interrupted by a noticeably drunk man, a few others following behind him as he approaches the table.

"Lukey!" He exclaims loudly, making me laugh as he wraps an arm around the shoulders of a flustered Luke. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

"Who's your friend?" Another man questions as they file into the booth seat. The one embracing look shoves us over to sit on our side.

"I'm Y/n." I introduce myself.

"Nico." He greets me before pointing to the other men at the table. "That's Dawson, John, and-"

"And I'm Jack." The loud one from before interrupts. "I'm Lukey Pookies older brother." He lifts a hand and teasingly pinches Lukes cheek.

"My very drunk older brother." Luke huffs in annoyance and swats Jack's hand away.

"Nice to meet you." I giggle as the brothers begin to bicker.

As casual conversation begins amongst the group that has formed at the table, Luke scoots closer to where our shoulders and thighs lightly brush against each other with every slight movement and he leans in to whisper in my ear.

"Sorry about them." He smiles sheepishly when I turn towards him.

"Don't worry about it." I assure him. "They seem fun." He nods before turning to join the conversation.

It's nearing two in the morning when Nico, who seems to be the only sober one in the group aside from Luke, announces that it's time for them to head home. There are a few groans of disappointment, which Nico ignores as he begins to pull them from their seats. After they say their goodbyes and begin to walk away, Luke turns towards me.

"I know this is probably weird, and feel free to say no, but I was wondering if I could get your number." He questions, shyness washing over him. "This is the first time in what feels like a long time that I've been able to have a conversation with anyone, let alone a girl, whose intentions aren't to take advantage of my fame or status to influence their own. I would really like to get to know you more. As a friend, of course."

"Of course. I'm always down to make a new friend." I smile, a fluttering sensation forming in my chest as I take his phone and add my contact. A few seconds after handing it back, my own phone buzzes.

"I just texted you so now you have mine. I have to go but text me when you get home, so I know you made it safely."

He seems to hesitate for a few seconds, as if trying to make up his mind about something, before he leans in a brushes his lips softly against my cheek. When his face is visible again, he is sporting a bright red blush, mine surely looking the same if the warmth in my cheeks says anything. He says goodbye quickly before turning to run after his friends who are whooping and hollering, having seen the whole thing. I smile to myself as I gather mine and my friends, a giddy feeling running through every fiber of my being. I make it only a few feet from the table when I almost run into my friends, both standing in front of me, with shocked expressions on their faces.

"Tell us everything!" They exclaim as they each grab one of my arms and begin to pull me out of the bar.

#luke hughes #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #lh43 #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes fic #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction

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alphabetboyluvr · 10 months

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once the thrill expires | jjk

title credit: cardigan - taylor swift

pairing: college!jungkook x female reader

synopsis:

your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out

warnings: angsty, smutty turmoil. it's not that bad, but it definitely isn't a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that'll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)

wordcount: 5.8K

note from holly: virgo boy trauma for you in the form of a jk one shot lmao. it's rare you get virgo boy shit laid this bare but he he i love oversharing on the internet! there's an old paragraph from yet another virgo boy fic hidden in here, too so if you think it looks familiar, that'll be why!!

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

The knock on your en-suite bathroom door comes as a surprise.

The subsequent twist of the lock mechanism from a coin wedged in the bolt on the other side does not.

There’s only one person it would be.

And so you don’t yell. Don’t tell him to go away, even if you do hug your legs into your chest a little tighter.

Sitting on the floor of your shower, dignity is preserved - but with skin as red as the flags that Jungkook freely hands you, and mascara staining your cheeks from the onslaught of piping hot water showering down on you, how dignified can you really be?

No words are spoken as the steam billows from the room, Jungkook not caring to shut the door behind himself. He takes a perch on the closed lid of the toilet, elbows to his knees, tattooed hands clasped beneath his chin. Refuses to look anywhere other than you.

There’s perplexion to his taut jaw - a frown embedded in his brows - but more than anything, there’s an overwhelming sense of confusion in his soft eyes. You’re unaware of the way he’s mirroring your expression back at you; how defeated you look, wet hair sticking to the side of your face, an emptiness in your gaze that is pale in comparison to the void in your chest.

With nothing but the pitter-patter of your shower to fill the space, you’re thankful that he can’t hear the way your heart is beating, or how you’re sniffing back the tears you were freely crying before he arrived.

“Jem messaged me,” he eventually says, quiet beneath the sound of the water. Leaning back, he wipes a palm over his face, then pushes it back into his dishevelled hair. Lets his hand fall between his legs, then shrugs as he looks at you as if to say, 'Don’t look at me like that' or 'It’s not my fault.'

And realistically, you know that it isn’t. Whatever he’s done is within the parameters of what was agreed upon. The way you feel - like Jungkook has stolen the moon and stopped the tides from turning - is not.

It’s not like either of you had ever expected to let things get this far, and definitely not for this long.

What had started as quiet kisses in the corners of clubs when your friends weren’t looking, had catapulted into drunken hook-ups after those aforementioned nights out.

He’d call you Dizzy, ‘cause he was convinced you looked at him like you’d been spinning in circles, all awe-struck and smiley. Pretty. Like a giggle was on the tip of your tongue at all times.

Was easy, back then. Convenient. He was newly single. Not looking for anything.

You’d been quietly harbouring an illicit crush on him from the day you moved into your shared university accommodation. Had been waiting for the stars to align - and once they had, you were certain that soulmates had to exist.

It’s the only way you can explain the small earthquake that happened half the world away at the very time you first met, the tectonic plates shifting to make sure you were perfectly presented to one another.

You didn’t feel the tremors - would have been impossible - but your heart certainly felt something. Adrenaline? Limerence? You’re not sure.

Whatever it was only became more and more prevalent with every tipsy hold of his hand on the way to clubs, or moments stolen in secrecy in the house you now share with six of your friends.

Now in your final year of university, if you spent as much time studying, as you do fretting over Jungkook - what he’s up to, who he’s with - maybe you’d get a first-class degree.

You’re on track for a 2:1.

He’s on track for a first, though.

You choose to believe it’s because he’s naturally more academically inclined (as if you didn’t write an entire paper for him last semester), and not because he spends significantly less time thinking about you.

There’s no need for endless thoughts, though.

The arrangement is simple: You’re friends.

Best friends. Spend all your time together. Are plus ones to events. Fill the void that a partner should fill; at the winter balls, cinema screenings you don't want to see alone, and in the hushed privacy of midnight intimacy. He gets you off when you need it, and you him.

Kisses are never shared between lips - apart from that one summer when he accidentally said he was in love with you, then took it back a week later under the guise of not wanting to ‘ruin’ the friendship.

You don’t speak about that summer.

Hook-ups are in your room, always, ‘cause you’ve only got Jem in the room next door. Jungkook’s room is up on the middle floor, surrounded by all the boys. They’d realise what’s going on far too quickly.

It’s simple - yet excruciatingly complicated when there’s a lack of commitment, and Jungkook looks at you in the way that he does.

His lips are a little deeper than their usual pink this evening, but you put it down to alcohol.

Denial is a wonderful thing, and delusion even greater.

Still, he leans forward to push the shower door open. Leans further still, then knocks the tap off. Lets the water trickle down the drain, the hum of the pipes murmuring like your unspoken grievances.

Rivulets of water chase down your skin. Jungkook watches one race from your knee to your ankle, running straight over the bruises from messy nights out and the small cut at the bottom of your calf from the fountain you’d both traipsed through when you were a little too merry a few nights prior.

He’d given you a piggyback the entire way home, blood staining the white of his shirt; the very essence of you embedded now in the fabric of him.

He’d patched you up after you got home. Showered with you, right here, then carried you the measly five or six steps to your bed. Had told you that you’d definitely get sepsis and die. Kissed it better, then decided he didn’t know any better, and trailed his lips up your leg. Took pity on your impending death and gave you a little, lovely death just to soften the blow.

Funny, how you think sepsis would be preferable over whatever the fuck it is that you’re feeling now.

“Jem messaged me,” he repeats. Presses his lips together, the ring in the corner of his mouth glistening under the white lights of the bathroom. “Said I should check on you. Been in the shower for an hour, apparently.”

Well, you think to yourself, bitterness wrapping around your words like poison ivy. You’ve checked. You can go now.

The words don’t manifest in your throat. Nothing does. Not even the echo of a sob you’ve been holding in since he first stepped foot within your sanctuary.

Instead you’re silent as you get to your feet, not caring for your nakedness. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t seen before. Probably knows your body better than his own at this point. Can look at the faded bruise on your chest and know that it was left there by his lips last week. Can pick out which ones of your dainty linework tattoos were there before he met you, and which ones have been acquired since.

It’s a quiet intimacy, the way Jungkook looks at you. There’s no towel in the bathroom - an oversight by your tipsy brain when deciding you needed to wash yourself clean of the man in front of you after arriving home from the club - and Jungkook doesn’t care to offer you one.

Insanity is the product of looking at your body, he thinks. Can’t remember a time he’s ever seen you like this and hasn’t wanted to be inside you. He’s a simple man in pursuit of simple pleasures, and the way you fit him like a glove is the simplest pleasure of them all.

“Hm?” He questions your lack of a response.

His deep black eyes are just like the depths of the ocean floor, and it feels like he’s dragging you right down every single time he looks at you like this. Softly. Tenderly. Sweetly. As if he actually gives a shit.

There’s no room for two in this bathroom. It’s not a space designed to be shared, no matter how many times you’ve both squeezed into the shower under far different circumstances - though now you come to think of it, perhaps they weren’t so dissimilar.

It was always Jungkook’s pursuit of pleasure that put you in that position, just like it put you there tonight.

“Hey,” he says quietly, as you turn to leave, his grip on your waist pulling you between his legs. You don’t look at him. Just keep your head turned to face out of the room - but you make no attempt to leave. Especially when his nose brushes up against the bottom of your ribs right between your breasts, and he husks, “Why are you being like this?”

The softness of his lips as he presses them against your sternum, long lashes splayed across the top of his cheeks, has you spiralling. Kind of feels like he’s twisting a corkscrew through your heart. You know he’ll rip it right out - but maybe you’ll let him, if it means he’ll kiss the wound better.

“Hmm?” He hums. One of your hands rests on his shoulder, the other in his hair, and that’s how Jungkook knows he’s rectified the damage done for a short while. It’s like putting washi tape over holes punched in the walls - useless, and bound to fall off eventually, but ever so pretty in the meantime. Another washi-tape kiss is pressed to your skin, a little higher this time. “We had a good night, didn’t we?”

The tenderness of his voice rewrites the events of the evening. A good night.

Not one with tears, and jealousy, and arguments that people who claim to be just friends have no business having. A night shared together, perhaps, with no one else to intrude.

Didn’t we?

You so prefer this false chain of events - the one where he left the bar with you, and held your hand in the cab ride back just like he’d done in the cab ride there.

“Is she still here?”

He’s surprised that you’re mentioning it. Half-expected you to act like it never happened. Like she never happened. Is what you usually do, whenever he goes home with someone that isn’t you.

Still, he just continues to gently stroke your sides. Doesn’t present you with any sort of weakness.

“No.”

“Did you fuck her?”

There’s a little venom to your tone; the poison ivy around your thoughts sprouting now from your throat.

Her. Some inconsequential girl that neither of you will likely ever see again. Looked nothing like you, but a hell of a lot like his ex.

“No, Diz,” he softens the sternness of his tone with a name only he calls you. “I didn’t fuck her.”

You’ve no idea if this is a lie or not.

It’ll be accepted as truth for an hour. Maybe two. Just enough time for you to convince yourself that you’re the one he wants. That he couldn’t bear to fuck anyone else. That he sent her on her way after a kiss or awkward fumble, because he realised no one else could feel as good as you.

You’ll ignore the fact you know he’s here because Jem messaged him.

You’ll ignore the fact he thinks you’ve been in the shower for over an hour, and has no actual knowledge of the events of it all.

You’ll ignore the scratch mark on his back, and in the morning you’ll believe it was you who left there even though your nails are bitten right down.

The lies you’ll tell yourself will be far more grand than the ones Jungkook ever tells you. Nobody can ever hurt you quite like you hurt yourself.

And so, against your better judgement, you let him follow you to your bed.

There's a clang as he tosses his rings down into the ceramic dish beside your bed. It's white, and speckled in tiny black dots, and matches the one Jungkook has in his own bedroom. Not really a surprise. He was the one who bought it for you. Before then, he used to just tuck his rings beneath your pillows - but he kept losing them, and he found it annoying having to rummage around for them whenever he was trying to make a silent exit so as to not wake you.

You tell yourself that small things like this are Jungkook's way of integrating himself into your life; creating permanence. In reality, it's just something that makes it easier for him to leave.

Leaving is the last thing on your mind right now, though, and it will be until he comes.

It used to be different. He used to stay. You convince yourself each and every time that he’ll do what he used to do before things got so confusing. That he’ll stay, and that things will be okay.

You let him kiss your skin, but he’ll never kiss your lips. Let him lay claim to your body, even though you know he’ll never lay claim to your soul.

It’s nice to pretend.

Nice, when he lays you down and rids himself of his shirt. Nice, when he presses your legs apart, and looks at you like you’re the first woman he’s ever laid eyes upon. Nice, when he says shit like, “Such a nice cunt,” and “Let me make you feel good.”

So nice, when he strokes up and down your inner thigh, eyes trained on your pussy.

So, so nice when he slowly drips a little spit between his pursed lips and watches as it trails down your folds.

So fucking nice, when he spreads you with his index and middle finger, groaning at the sight of you.

See, Jungkook can be nice. Can be honest. Can tell you how much he wants you, and you can believe him without having to do mental gymnastics over it all.

As he sinks his middle finger into you - “Shit. So wet for me, aren’t you?” - Jungkook is on his best behaviour. He’ll make you feel so good that you’ll forget he ever made you feel bad, cause he needs this. Needs you.

Not in the life-debilitating, earth-shattering, universe-bending way that you need him, but in a way that isn’t too dissimilar.

You’re his best friend. He loves you in his own, curious way. Would lay his life on the line for you. Just can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants for no other reason than selfish gluttony.

It’s his fatal flaw, but he just thinks everyone has them. That most people are like this.

Of the seven deadly sins, Jungkook wields them all. Too proud to admit his wrongdoings. Greedy in his need to have everything life can offer, and how he refuses to limit himself to just you. His lust and gluttony go hand in hand - yet whenever any one else with similar predispositions look in your direction, he turns green with envy. Green, until he’s red, wrath taking hold.

But he’s lazy, too. Far too settled in how easy it is to have his way with you. Why would he try harder when you never make him?

That’s your cardinal sin: desperation.

It reeks. Spiced vanilla and black cherry. Tarnishes your skin, until Jungkook licks it from you.

And so as his lips press down your legs, wet and wanting, you don’t object. In fact, you don’t really do anything. You just allow it to happen.

Because you are desperate - for him, his approval, his desire. His heart.

You’ll never get it, mind you, for his heart is hollow.

Saw every example of what he considered to be true love crackle and crumble until it fell apart. Parents divorced. High-school sweetheart cheated. Love, as you know it, doesn’t exist in Jungkook’s understanding of life.

You never stood a chance. Not really.

The only times his heart is full is when he steals enough adoration from yours, and cosplays it as his own. Shines it back at you, and tricks you into thinking that maybe he did mean it when he mumbled false declarations into your lips.

But that was three summers ago, now, and Jungkook is a creature of habit. Too stuck in his ways to ever change. Comfortable in this chaos with you.

‘Cause while the other girls are fleeting, and fun, and always very nice, they’re never comfortable. Not like you are.

“I liked your dress tonight,” he whispers, as he pushes a second finger into you. Pumps them gently, palm skywards, coaxing soft little moans from your lips. Curls them just right, just like he always does.

The affection of such a compliment rids you of the haunting way he’d looked at you earlier that evening.

Up, down. No smile. Turned away to change the song coming through the aux at pre-drinks. Didn’t look at you again until he was passing out shots for everyone to take. Just nodded towards your necklace - the one his hobbyist silversmith mother made you for Christmas - and asked, “You like it?”

The pendant is small. Embossed with the letters DJ - the name his mother collectively calls you whenever you spend the summer together at his place. The hammered edge of the pendant matches the ring that wraps around your thumb. Another one of her creations, gifted to you by him for your birthday.

“Of course I do,” you’d said. Seemed silly for him to ask. You wear it most days.

“Good,” he’d nodded, then took his shot and pretended as if he wasn't all too aware that your dress would be attracting good-for-nothing men all night.

See, Jungkook knows you like the necklace. Had just been reminding you of it, and the fact it’s his initial on there with the initial only he calls you. Well, him and his mother. Goes with the territory.

She’s seen you through your formative years. Only ever sees the good parts, because Jungkook orchestrates it that way.

She doesn’t see the moments like these, when he’s crushed your self esteem and tries to fix it in the most idiotic of ways.

The necklace pools around the base of your throat as your head tips back into the pillows, his thumb coming to toy with your clit, gently pressing down.

“Shush, Diz,” he smiles, so pleased to see your body responding in the way that it always does. “You’ll get us in trouble.”

God forbid the people you live with - who’ve all heard the arguments after his illicit encounters with randomers, and seen his face of thunder whenever you’re getting ready for first dates - ever figure out you’re fucking. Not like it’s obvious in the slightest. Not why Jem texted Jungkook, instead of checking on you herself.

Biting onto your wrist, you try and stifle the impact of his touch - ‘cause if they do hear, it will be your fault. You’ll be the reason everyone knows your dirty little secrets. You’ll be the one who ruins it all. Not him. Just you.

He doesn’t mean to condition you in such a way. Doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Nor do you - but your self esteem is shot to shit. You’re good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love, even if Jungkook insists that there’s no one he adores more. It always comes with an add-on of ‘you’re my best friend’, or ‘you wouldn’t wanna date me anyways’.

Maybe he’s right.

But maybe it would have been nice to try.

Shame.

The pace of Jungkook’s fingers pumping into you begins to slow. Leaking around the base of his knuckles, you’re just as wet as you always are with him. Even when the emotional labour of letting him have his way with you feels like a ten tonne weight on your chest, crushing down on your ribs and spoiling you forevermore, your body still wants him. Only him. Always him.

Withdrawing his fingers, Jungkook taps the outer side of your thigh. “On your front for me, Diz. Face down, ass up.”

With anyone else, Jungkook is far more often on the receiving end. It’s a shame, ‘cause his talents go to waste, it’s just what he’s found to be typical of random hook-ups.

He loves pussy. Loves eating it. Loves that you love it, too.

Slow as he spreads your ass with his hands, Jungkook really doesn’t fuck around with wasting time. He dives in without hesitation, burying his tongue between your folds. Cares not for accuracy, nor carefulness. Just wants his tongue all over you.

Your body lurches forward, hands clutching onto the duvet beneath you. He’s always been like this. Hungry. Just as desperate as you so often feel, but better at hiding it than you are.

His tongue laps against you. Sinks into your soaked hole as deep as he can get it. Uses one of his hands to reach around and toy with your clit while he continues to explore somewhere he knows like the back of his hand.

Pulling back a little, Jungkook’s breathing is heavy. You can hear it. Groan, as he grips your ass again. Spanks it softly, then get back to his previous position. Licks a stripe from your clit up to your leaking cunt, then continues. Flicks up against the tight muscle you rarely let him fuck around with.

But you want him to want you. Want him to have you in whichever capacity he so desires.

You reach back. Tangle a hand in his hair, and encourage him to massage your tight hole with his tongue, like you know he loves to do.

It’s kinda cute, in a way. He likes doing it, ‘cause he loves the way it feels whenever your tongue toys with his ass. Assumes other people must love it too. Just wants you to feel good. Wants to right his earlier wrongs.

He continues to trace up and down both your holes, stimulating your entire body in the process. Rubs your clit with his fingers, till you're writhing against the sheets, body pressed flat to the cotton as Jungkook begins to fuck his fingers into your again.

“You gonna cum for me?” He husks, a smile on his wet lips as he watches the tell-tale sign of an orgasm rush over you. Soon, you’ll be looking at him with dizzy eyes once more, and your namesake will make Jungkook feel things he pretends he can’t feel. “That’s it, Diz. All over my fingers. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

There’s a relief that comes with your orgasm for Jungkook. Hope that you’ll stop being mardy with him. He doesn’t like it when you don’t like him. These days, he keeps making choices that make it hard for you to like him.

But you always like him - like him so much - in the comedown of a climax.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover. Wants to coax a second orgasm from you while he still can. Pulls you back into position - face down, ass up - and pushes down his sweats. Cock hard, there’s a small damp patch in his boxers from the precum he’s leaked for you. Lines himself up.

“Let me fuck you,” he begs before he pushes into you.

“Uh-uh,” you full forward a little, preventing him from doing what he so desperately wants to do. Turning to look over your shoulder, you shake your head. “Condom.”

He furrows his brows. Has the audacity to look fucking offended, as if he didn’t bring another girl back to the house you share.

You’re stupid, and you’re desperate, and you make all the wrong choices, but you aren’t naive. Not really. Your delusions and denial are always elevated away from reality, of which you like to think you have a firm grip on.

And so you simply say, “Don’t believe you didn’t fuck her.”

He doesn’t deny it. Shakes his head, not that you can see it. Just reaches to the shelf above your bed, and gets one from the pot you keep them tucked away in. Rarely ever use them. It’s a novelty, more than not, when you use them. Something to make him last a little longer.

It’s different today.

Today, it’s because you don’t know if his cock is fucking clean or not.

It should crush you, but it doesn’t.

Just a fact of life. Jungkook fucked someone else less than three hours ago. Came, probably. For someone else. Over someone else. Inside someone else.

But that desperation of yours is back once more. You want to be the reason why Jungkook loses his mind in temporary bliss. To be better. To be his last memory of the evening.

And so as Jungkook rolls the condom down his thick shaft, you position yourself perfectly for him. Whimper as the tip of his cock kisses your entrance. Whine, as he pushes inside you.

“That’s it,” he husks, gripping your ass cheeks to spread them nice and wide. Looking down to where your bodies meet, Jungkook is reminded of why he enjoys you so much. No one takes him so well. No one. He knows this. Doesn’t know why the fuck he ever feels the need to seek out anyone else. They’re never as good as this. “Fuck. That’s it, baby.”

Your hips roll back, ass bouncing in that hypnotic way he always swears will ruin him. His grip loosens to let you do the hard work, one of his hands stroking up your spine until it’s resting around the base of your throat.

Taking back a little control, he keeps your head pushed into the pillows. Grunts. “Take this cock so fuckin’ well, don’t you?”

The mumble you moan into the sheets isn’t enough for him. He always does this. Asserts control and then realises he actually kinda fuckin’ hates it. Fingers still wrapped around the base of your neck, Jungkook pulls you up.

Chest pressed to your back, Jungkook wastes no time locking you in place with an arm around the front of your waist. His cock continues to pump upwards into you, the movements a little subdued but by no means lacking.

The ridge of his thick head rubs up against your sweet spot. Gets you so fucking needy. Has your hand dipping to your clit to match the pressure.

And when you do? Oh, it’s heaven. You can’t help but whine - so Jungkook uses the hand that isn't on your waist to cover your mouth.

“You only get to cum if you’re quiet,” he tells you. “Be quiet for me, baby.”

But his hips are erratic. The sounds are lewd; skin on skin. It’s wet. Disgusting. Needy. Him, just as much as you. Sweat blossoms on his skin, keeping you both in this clammy haze of hedonism.

Catching his lips on your ear, Jungkook doesn’t care if he isn’t supposed to let kisses linger so close to your lips. Tongue wet, he intrudes. Licks the shell of your ear. Grazes his teeth on your lobe. Whispers, “You looked so pretty tonight,” then drags his tongue across your ear.

Cares not for precision nor accuracy, just the fact that this is an area of the body he doesn’t often explore, and that maybe he should do it more often, given how tightly your pussy is clamping around him.

There’s something about it - the obstruction of one of your senses likely to blame, sound distorted whenever his tongue licks against it - that makes you whine.

You can’t even really do that now. Are too muffled beneath his hand - until he pushes the two fingers that had been inside your pussy earlier into your mouth.

The taste is just the same as it always is whenever he does shit like this. Loves having you taste yourself. Experiencing what he experiences. Wants you to know exactly why he’s incapable of letting you go.

“Slutty little mouth,” he smirks against your ear. “Gonna finish in it.”

“Mhhm?” you mumble against the fingers you’re keeping wet and warm for him.

“Mhmm,” he replies. Presses a kiss to your temple, ‘cause he isn’t really thinking straight. Groans when your cunt clenches from the touch. “God, you want it, don’t you? Want it so bad. Wanna swallow my cum.”

Of course you do. You’ll take what he’ll give you.

Your mumble around his fingers isn’t enough. He wants to hear you say it. Frees your mouth of himself. Grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Turns you to face further over your shoulder.

He’s just gonna make you say it. Just make you say something lewd to get him a little closer. Just… Just gonna… Just...- Oh, fuck it. Your lips are just there, and they’re wet, and they’re pouty and - God, forgive me - perfect for him.

His eyes flitter between your eyes and your lips. Is aware you’re doing the same.

“Kook,” you whisper, as if you’re about to reprimand him.

“Please,” he begs. Thinks he needs this just as much as you do. Maybe even more so.

And so somewhere between the overwhelming acknowledgement that this is a catastrophic chain of events, and the promise of a happy ending (of which you know damn well will never reach fruition), you let him sink his lips into yours.

You’re pretty in war, and even prettier in defeat.

Jungkook thinks you’re prettiest when you’re all his.

You think that to be his is to accept an eternal loss.

The breath of his nose is heavy against your cheek as his lips press into yours, brows furrowed. The need for you to be lewd is abandoned, ‘cause Jungkook doesn’t even think he’ll last long enough for it. Thinks that nothing gets him closer than the flavour of your lips.

Hips still jerking up, the sound of his skin hitting your ass echoing around the room, Jungkook fucks himself into you until he can do it no longer. Pulls away. Rips off his condom. Tosses it to the floor. Gets you face down again. Wanks himself to the point of coming undone, hot spurts of cum dripping onto your ass and spilling down to the valley of your spine.

He’s the one moaning now, your body defiled by a boy who you wish would paint you in pretty compliments instead. Still, this is a compliment. Kind of. You’re hot enough to make him cum. That’s nice, you suppose.

“Shit,” he chokes out, breathing all out of sync, heartbeat far too rapid. A light spank is tapped against your ass, then softly stroked. He soothes. Aloe on sunburn. Milk with hot sauce. Pretty kisses in the comedown of a rough fuck.

You won’t get those. Wasn’t a particularly rough fuck, either - and yet it hurts so much when he gets up to leave.

It’s awkward. He doesn’t really say bye. Doesn’t acknowledge the fact he stoked a fire inside you that burned you from the inside out. Ignores the ashes that are scattered around your vessel, as if your soul has been ejected from its home.

He’s warm, when you look at him. That little part of your heart has been stolen once more. He’s just feeding it back to you.

“Sorry,” he says, a hand on your doorknob. “I shouldn’t- I mean, we shouldn’t-”

“It’s fine,” you offer.

That’s the thing about Jungkook. He’ll give you the world, then realise it was never his to give. Always has to ask for it back. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s fucked you, then acted as if was foolish - only to repeat the same mistakes the next evening.

It’s what he’s always done, and is what he’ll always do.

You’ll never learn.

The shirt you chuck on to head downstairs the next morning is his.

Far too big for you, it finishes around your thighs. Television blaring in the room beneath you, it’s obvious your housemates are awake, and even as you’re trudging down the stairs, you’re not quite sure you’re alive.

The headache of an overbearing hangover is threatening your life. You’re certain of it. The fact your housemates have the television set to what must be the maximum volume? Only further sending you to an early grave.

And yet when you see Jungkook sitting by the breakfast bar, hair in all different directions, a bowl of cereal in front of him, and smiling in the direction of whomever else is in the room, you find yourself smiling, too.

“Morning,” you say pleasantly as you walk into the kitchen, ready to flop your forehead down on Jungkook’s shoulder like you so often do.

Ready, until you notice the look in his eyes when he turns to face you.

Ready, until you glance in the direction of his previous smile.

Ready, until you see the girl who looks a lot like his ex-girlfriend and absolutely nothing like you leaning on the other side of the counter. Mug from your trip to Amsterdam together in her hands, and the shirt you got him for his birthday covering her body, she smiles.

You’re drowning.

“Oh,” you say, not looking at him. Only her. “I didn’t realise we had company.”

“Is she still here?”

“No.”

She’s awkward as she nods. “Sorry, hey. I crashed here last night - hope you don’t mind? It’s just you know what it’s like getting an uber at that time-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod. Smile. Jungkook thinks you look pretty - but of course he does. You look defeated. “Totally.”

“Did you fuck her?

“No, Diz. I didn't fuck her.”

“Jungkook said you were feeling unwell last night?” She tries to make conversation. She needn’t. You feel far more unwell now than you ever did last night - and that’s before you notice the pretty purple bruise forming on her neck. “How are you feeling now?”

Her care is kind. Considerate. Wholly wasted on you because you’re gonna lie, and say that you’re fine, even though it feels as if your lungs have been filled with venom spat by a lover who is incapable of loving.

Still, you don’t look at Jungkook. Just make your excuses. Leave.

And even though he knows that he should, Jungkook doesn’t chase after you.

He lets you go, because he knows you’ll always come back. You always do.

But if you don't?

Well, he’ll go back to you, and you’ll let him. Again, you always do.

From the kitchen, Jungkook can hear your showering starting up. Appetite lost, he isn’t listening to the girl in front of him. Isn’t even really sure of her name.

All that he’s sure of is that the fall out of this is not gonna be pretty.

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook smut #bts fanfic #byholly #angst #smut #jungkook x y/n #fuckboy!jungkook #college!jungkook #college au

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widowmaxff · 4 months

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if you wanted to, could you please write an angsty oneshot of moms!wandanat and reader where they get into a a bad argument which results in reader running away to yelena’s? ending could be happy or sad- up to you overall!

proud

pairings: parents!wandanat × daughter!reader | yelena × fem!reader (all platonic)

warnings: angst, argument, crying, insecure reader (?), happy ending!, steve × reader (platonic) at some time of the one shot, bad writing

a/n: i finished this crying because a cockroach attacked me, so thats why the ending was kind of bad writing sorry :P anddd tysm for your request <333 i loved writing this

You were never sure when it started, but it was probably a long time ago. When you learned that having parents who fought the super villains in the world wasn't normal, you realized that your life wouldn't be normal either. But even though you liked seeing your mother training with her red powers or running and being able to do whatever you wanted through the great corridors of the Compound, you still missed having a 'normal' life.

Being able to go out on the street without worrying about some evil man who hates one of your mothers kidnapping you or even being able to make friends at school without them being people who just wanted to meet your uncles, were things you wanted so much to experience. But that wasn't the only thing that made you feel bad in your daily life, having mothers who were superheroes also made you barely see them in weeks.

Even though most people your age didn't want anything to do with their parents anymore, you still missed the comforting and long hugs, the nights you had a marathon of your favorite movies and even when you still had dinner together as a family. But now, either they were too busy with work, like missions and paperwork, or they just didn't want to deal with a teenager.

And even then you tried to get their attention in some way. "Mom?" You knock softly on Natasha's office door, hearing a quiet response for you to enter. "Can you help me study for my test of the next week? I really don't understand this." You chuckle seeing your mother's eyes continue on the papers on her desk.

"Can't you look up the answer on the Internet or something? I'm really busy here, Y/n/n." You knew that Natasha would dismiss you somehow, but deep down you still hoped that she would look at you.

"Yes, but- I wanted to understand how to solve it and not just research it." You whisper, watching your mother write something down in the corner of the paper.

"Wanda can help you." She says, her eyes unable to take the words from her face for even a minute.

"Okay- um, thanks anyway, Mom." You only hear a mumble under her breath, making you wonder if there was something wrong with you. You close the office door with a little less hope this time. Your other mother was always a step ahead than Natasha in terms of emotional comfort, so maybe she would help you in your task by remembering your daily difficulties with that kind of thing. "Mama?"

"Yes?" Your mother murmurs, you barely listening. Wanda was sitting on the sofa at the Compound while devouring herself with a book in her hands.

"Can you help me study for my test of the next week, please?" You sit next to her while Wanda flips through another white page of the big book.

"Now?"

"Yeah. If it's possible."

"Can I help you...tomorrow?" Wanda finally looks at you from above her book. "Today is my only day off from the week's missions and paperwork and I'm really tired right now, my love." Your eyes fall to your hands in your lap, it was obvious that deep down you knew she was going to promise you something and maybe she would deliver. But by the time the next day passed, and then the next, and then the next... and Wanda didn't talk to you about it, you knew she wasn't going to help you.

And when you felt your head hurt just looking at that big red note in the corner of your test, you knew your mothers' wouldn't react so well to it. Maybe before they started spending time apart from you, they wouldn't get mad or anything like that because of your grade, but now you were sure that wasn't what would happen.

Stirring your fork on the plate still full of food, you go over the things you would say to your mothers' about your school grade. You travel between words and don't even notice when someone enters your field of vision. "Is everything okay, Kid?" It was your Uncle Steve. He sits in front of you watching you think about what to say to him.

"Yeah, it's just...school stuff."

"Is someone picking on you?" You knew that Steve almost saw you as a daughter, and you also knew that he was aware of how your mothers would rather be busy than deal with a teenage girl going through puberty, and that maybe now is the time when you needs them the most.

"Not like before, but that's not it." You leave your fork on your plate before sighing deeply. "I just got my test and I didn't get a very good grade," Murmuring you hold back the tears that sting your eyes. "now I don't know how I'm going to tell my mothers this."

Steve sighs. "I'm sure they won't fight with you, Y/n/n. Your mothers' will understand what happened and a grade doesn't define who you are, okay?" Your uncle didn't have much certainty in his voice but you tried to believe him anyway. You nod and put a small smile on your face, as a gesture of thanks.

Steve ruffles your hair, getting up from the chair when he hears the loud and unmistakable footsteps of your mothers' approaching you. He sends you a smile to try to reassure you that everything will work out, and with each step closer to you, your heart starts to accelerate. Your mothers' had a neutral expression, even if Natasha seemed angrier. "Aren't you going to eat?" Wanda asks, walking past you and heading towards one of the closets.

Completely ignoring the question, you take a deep breath and swallow hard. "I received the grade for that test in which I asked you to help me study." You mutter as you saw your mothers still facing away from you. "I got a D." Your voice was low, but even so, the two stopped what they were doing and looked into the depths of your soul.

"You got what?" Natasha seemed to finally understand that you were there. Her arms crossed as she walked towards you.

"I-I asked for help and-"

"Now you're trying to get out of this by blaming us for not helping you?" Wanda cuts you off making your eyes focus on her.

"I'm just saying- I tried, okay?!" It could be said that you got anger issues from your mom genes, or that you were just overwhelmed and your patience was running out. And when your tone of voice increased, you knew Natasha's anger would increase as well.

"Hey, don't talk to your mother like that!" Natasha slams her fist on the table in front of you, making you almost jump out of your seat.

"Well, you shouldn't be talking to me like that either." You didn't know where so much courage came from to fight back against your mother, but when you realized it, the damage had already begun.

"I'm your fucking mother, I talk to you however I want!" Natasha had never made you feel as scared as you did now, but it seemed like now that the words started to come out, they wouldn't stop.

"Ah, you haven't even been acting like a mother these past few months. Hypocrisy, huh?" When you finished speaking, you saw Wanda's eyes want to turn red like her hair. She approached the two of you quickly with the angriest expression you had ever seen.

"What's your problem, Y/n?!"

"My problem?" You get up from the chair and cross your arms, anyone who saw you in that position would notice the similarities in anger between you and Natasha. "You tell me! I'm not the person who would rather spend time anywhere else than with her own daughter. I'm not the one who forgets that she still has a daughter to raise!"

You screamed so loud that you were sure the entire Compound could hear that argument and that they could probably feel the tension in that environment from afar. If you were in a cartoon, you could see smoke coming out of Natasha's head and definitely Wanda's eyes catching fire. "You're being so selfish right now, Y/n."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are! Just because your mother and I work all day to give you a better life, you think that we don't pay attention to you?" You had never seen Wanda like that, screaming and looking like she could kill anyone who came in front of her.

"Ah, yeah. Because last week when you weren't working you preferred to spend the whole day with Peter than with me just because he got a good grade!"

"Yes, because he always made us so proud by passing all the tests he had, unlike you!" Natasha spits the words out of her mouth without even thinking about what she was saying. And when they passed your ears you could feel your heart breaking.

Hearing that your mothers were more proud of a teenager who worked with them than they were of you made you feel like a gunshot was slowly passing through your chest. Natasha and Wanda knew how insecure you felt in your daily life, mainly due to academic validation, and now it seemed like all those days they had to spend helping you feel better about yourself were going down the drain.

Natasha sighs deeply when she sees your eyes widen, holding back tears that would fall at any moment. Wanda didn't seem any different when she heard the same words coming out of her wife's mouth. She never imagined that an argument of that size would ever happen between you, and Wanda could have sworn that she felt her heart stop beating out of disgust at the thought of how bad you must be feeling right now. "Y/n, I didn't mean-"

"It's okay." You murmur, uncrossing your arms. Two tears fall from your eyes and you make sure to wipe them away quickly. Your eyes were anywhere but on your mothers, because you felt so disgusting knowing that they were more proud of Peter than they were of you, that you couldn't even look at them.

Neither Wanda nor Natasha say anything when you turn and start walking out of the kitchen. You seemed to be walking automatically, your eyes blurry and your mind foggy, just going through your mother's words, over and over. But when you realize it, you're already outside the Compound, a few blocks away. You remember only one person who could help you outside of that place, and who wouldn't mind if you showed up suddenly.

And that's how you found yourself in front of Yelena's apartment, your aunt. She had found a place to live close to Natasha's house when she reconnected with her years ago, and especially when she discovered that she had a daughter, you. "Y/n?" Yelena seemed confused to see you there, with your face soaked and red, looking like an abandoned puppy. "Hey, what's wrong?" She didn't take long to have you in her arms.

"M-Mom and Mama h-hate me." You finally managed to murmur after some time sitting on the sofa in the apartment with Yelena stroking your hair and saying affectionate words.

Anyone who saw her doing this wouldn't believe it. Yelena wasn't the type of person for physical touches and especially sweet words, but when the subject was you, she became another person. "Why do you say that? They love you more than anything, Y/n/n."

"No, they don't."

Yelena had never seen you like this, not when you cried for days when you saw your favorite character dying, not when your mothers had to leave for a long mission. It was strange to see you crying almost as if there was no air in your lungs, your aunt wondered what happened to make it look like you had a bullet in your body and you were begging her to take it out. So, when you fell asleep crying on the couch, Yelena didn't wait a minute to call Natasha and insult her in every way possible. "What the fuck did you do?"

"What?"

"Y/n showed up at my door, I've never seen her crying as much as she does now." Yelena looks at you from the apartment's kitchen, you were curled up on the sofa with a blanket covering your body.

"Are you with her? Wanda and I were looking for her throughout the entire Compound." Natasha seemed to be relieved on the other end of the call, but even so her voice still sounded apprehensive about what had happened. "We're going to your apartment, I'll answer your question when we get there."

"You better!"

[...]

"She's sleeping on the couch." Yelena says when she sees Wanda and Natasha's eyes follow behind her, trying to find you. Yelena noticed Wanda's red eyes, not as if she wanted to cast circles of magic through her hands, but as if she had cried before arriving at the apartment. Your aunt knew that Wanda was sensitive, especially when it came to the topic of you and that you probably inherited that from her too, but for you two to cry so much like that, something really happened.

"Tell me what happened before you look at my niece again." Yelena has always been very protective of you, for example the time two girls made you the target of jokes in your school, and your aunt didn't wait a second to go to each of their houses and have a word with them.

"I better show you." Wanda says getting closer to Yelena, moving her fingers that came out red magic towards her mind - Steve messing up your hair, Wanda opening cabinets, red grade, Natasha screaming, you screaming, not being a mother, Wanda screaming, Peter being mentioned, not proud, disgusting feeling, you crying, you leaving the kitchen.

"Jesus." Yelena sighs deeply, running her hands over her face. "I really don't know how you're going to fix this, but I'll warn you: the hole is deeper than it looks."

"What- what do you mean by that?"

"Look, I'm sure you didn't want this to turn into a big snowball, but Y/n been feeling neglected for so long that after today it might take a while for things to get back to normal." Yelena says leaning on the front door frame.

"We didn't-"

"Yes, you did this to her. Today wasn't the first time she's shown up at my door in the last few months, but she's worse than the other times." Yelena crosses her arms and closes her eyes trying to calm down. "I had to listen to her talk about how you hardly talk to her on a daily basis, how you forgot to go to her presentation at school and didn't even apologize, how there were days when you forgot to pick her up and she had to walk in the rain to my apartment because it was closer, how she cried because you never had movie nights again because apparently now you have movie nights with Peter." Yelena's voice got louder with each thing she remembered you saying to her, and there were countless things. "I don't want to hear what you have to say, I want you to talk to her, apologize."

Natasha was so embarrassed to hear all those things from Yelena that she preferred to remain silent. Wanda had started to cry again, but it was silently, digesting all those things they did and didn't do to you. She had always dreamed of being a mother and now that she wasn't acting like one made her want to vomit over her own actions.

"Can we see her?" It was a stupid question coming from them, since they were your mothers and have the right to see you whenever they want. But they knew that everything was messy and bad for you because of them, so the least they had to do was respect your space.

Yelena just nods and gives Wanda and Natasha space to enter the apartment, taking light steps towards you. They bend down in front of you and see your swollen eyes and your red face with dried tears. Your mothers could cry just to see you in this state. Wanda starts to caress your face trying to make you wake up calmly, it was something she used to do when she went to your room in the morning every day to wake you up. And when you felt that you quickly knew who it was. "Mama?"

"Shh, yes it's me, my love." Wanda says with a small smile on her face when she hears your voice. You seemed lost for a few seconds but when you looked around the apartment you quickly remembered, throwing off the blanket and quickly sitting down on the couch. "Hey, it's okay."

"What are you two doing here?" You murmur, looking at your mothers' faces, who seemed sorry for everything that happened.

"We... came to talk and apologize, is that okay for you?" Natasha says, you could see in her face that she felt just as guilty as Wanda, because most of those horrible words were said by her. "Yeah, I guess." Wanda sighed in relief at your answer and felt some of the weight leave her body.

"I know that just apologies won't be enough to make you want to be around us for now, but your mother and I are completely sorry, my love. We were so stupid about leaving you aside these last few months, we didn't even realize what we were doing to you and it's really fucked up." The swear word made you laugh briefly, putting a smile on your mothers face. "And maybe you don't want to forgive us and that's definitely okay, but know that we're going to do everything we can to get things back on track, okay?"

Natasha agrees with Wanda's words and takes a deep breath before starting to speak. "We love you very, very much, sweetheart. And you are our greatest pride in our entire lives. I know you may not believe this, but you can be sure that me, your mother, your aunt and all your other uncles feel most proud of you, okay? You're our little star and our little agent."

A genuine smile appears on your face when you hear the sweet words that came out of your mothers' mouths. "First, you guys are literally the only people I want by my side and that's the only thing I've wanted these last few months. And I'm really grateful that you guys are sorry about that, even though it's probably going to be hard for things to go back to normal." They nod their heads when they hear your words in your low voice. "And I... forgive you. Not completely but until I can feel good again, but I think hearing you say sorry is a start."

"Okay, yes, that's okay." Wanda leaves a kiss on your forehead and strokes your hair affectionately. "We love you so much, dear."

"Love you too." You say, hugging the two women in front of you, finally feeling maternal affection after feeling neglected for so long and wondering what you had done wrong. Even though it took a while to get used to it all again, you were definitely happier than ever just hearing the words that they were proud of you. "Now I finally don't need to come to talk to Auntie Yelena anymore."

"Hey! I heard that!" Yelena shouts from another room in the apartment making the three of you laugh. You loved making fun of her, but even so, you will always be thankful for all the things she did for you. "Wow you're so ungrateful, Mini Romanoff."

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thesuperiorrobin · 1 year

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“Lipstick stains~”

❥ pairing : Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader

❥ Word count: 538

❥ Summary: you ask Damian to do a tiktok video with you and he has no idea what it’s about.

❥ Warning: kissing

(A/n: this is inspired by a couple TikTok’s that are becoming a trend and I think it’s cute but it hurts my feelings 😀 the luck is literally right here in the underline )

PART 1 PART 2

Damian really isn’t on the internet much, much less the media. So you like to take that to your advantage. Playing funny pranks on him and what not. Now, Damian has tiktok but he doesn’t post on it, once in a while you’ll see him watching video and hear him chuckle but that’s about it. Now there is a trend going around that you wanted to try. You’re with Damian in his bedroom swatching away lipstick on your lips.

“I don’t understand, '' he murmurs, watching carefully.

You shake your head “you don’t have to, just trust me” you look up at him with a hint of mischief in your eyes ``you trust me. Don’t you?”

“With all my heart love” he says quietly.

“You’re so cheesy”

“only for you” you roll your eyes. You cleaned up the edges of your mouth and turned to face Damian with a Smirk. “Alright, come here you~” you grab a hold of Damian's shirt for the collar and pull him into a kiss.

Damian doesn’t fight back as he firmly places his hands on your hips as he leans back pulling you on top of him. A couple seconds later you pull back to catch a breath. Damian leans back, resting his elbow and forearm on the wooded ground, with hooded eyes his green eyes pierce up at yours. The lipstick complemented his Tan skin perfectly, it was smudged against his lips and yours as well. But you weren’t done yet. You lean back down and Damian leans back up, assuming he’ll be getting another kiss from you but he’s wrong.

You start to attack his skin with kisses. His cheek, the corners of his mouth, his forehead, his chin, his neck, and eyelids. Behind every kiss you leave a stain until the stain is no longer visible, that’s your sign to stop. You lean back admiring your work and a daised out Damian below you. Pulling out your phone you take a quick picture before you get off him and open up the TikTok app.

Before you do anything else you wipe off the smudge lips too on your face, cleaning up your face a little before you somewhat reapply with the same color lipstick, that’s when you hit the white plus sign at the bottom of your screen to make a short video. Your phone screen is at the level of your face—you press play, the recording begins as you start to apply the lipstick on your bottom lip, moving your arm slightly so you mess up a little. “Oh no” you say “I messed up”.

You tried wiping off the mistake before you turned the camera back to Damian. Messy hair, and bright red lipstick stains covering his face. That’s where it ends. You do whatever you need to do before you post it.

“Okay! All done” You pull out a wipe to remove the lipstick from your lips and once you are done you grab another and use it to clean Damians messy face. He lets you and doesn’t say a word.

“I’m not going to hear the end of it from my idiotic brother am I?” The screen of your phone lights up. A notification. You laugh and shake your head showing him the screen.

“Nope”

(I love reading the comments on cute dating post bc they are always out of pocket💀😭)

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #batman x fem!reader #robin x reader #batfamily #damian x reader #batfamily x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian scenarios

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skinnypaleangryperson · 4 months

Text

My heart is broken over this gray world and this life dedicated to slavery by selfish people who are just playing sheep differently taking control of me and paying me so little that I can't even have a decent personal life to make up for crushed creative dreams. I hurt myself with my own imagination and how vivid it is, the TV shows that I would have liked to work on an extended with my passion and ideas, the artistry the lights, the emotion the storytelling, the storyboards and the artistic lighting that I work on every day simply because it's all that makes sense to me. These images, thoughts, storytelling, emotions, everything where I pour all of my desperation of what I wish the humanity and connection that my life would have into a couple of iPad drawings every day in the corner of an empty bedroom.

It comes across as melodramatic posting about it online, but if you were to live a day in my life with having nothing except for my raw isolated imagination in such a repetitive, soulless, compassionless gray world, where I have no connection to anyone anymore, and no one that I can share anything with and convinced I will never have a true friendship or relationship with anyone outside of baseline tolerance at best again, on top of failed motherhood and a failed creative career, you would be crying out on the internet every second you got the chance to. I haven't wanted to live this life for the longest time that I could remember, and I will never want to again. In a sense, thank God nobody cares and that I can just post about it at whatever whim that I want throughout the miserable day, because this is the only place left where I can still feel somewhat human, and where I can just be as unashamedly detailed about every single depressed and morbidly despairing thought, share some of my work, even if it's only to myself just to prove that it even exists outside of my own sick corner of the world, and generally to feel seen for a little while, Even if only by myself, which is what me and the majority of people in working class America have, with no way out, because we're not "special", And if you have an artistic vision it will break your heart more than anything else.

I especially love this scene that I came up with it during my on maladaptive daydreaming lately with my family with BoJack and Samantha and Harper. The storylines that I come up with his family and with our girls are always incredibly vivid every single day and they both still simultaneously break my heart, because I know that the vision that I share in the passion that I have and my want to share in storytelling will only ever be an ongoing sickly headspace in the back of my head while the gray reality of a life that has long since over if it ever began goes on around me without change. The beauty of the family life that I wanted to have on top of the creative dreams that I have that has projected itself into the muddled mental disorder of maladaptive daydreaming of my beautiful family with Bojack both is the only thing that keeps me going throughout the empty slave hours of my life, which is so lonely that most people I'm convinced would not be able to live it, well at the same time fills me with such a beauty and meaning taking it in that I couldn't ever let it go.

#bojack #maladaptive daydreaming #🫡#Lost my mind #I mostly just use social media to grieve these days while I continue to live the graveyard of my life in reality #My life failed beyond comprehension in every possible way

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zeninsama-moved · 1 year

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pay up!

gojo satoru x female reader

satoru's poor time management has you working overtime, and this cheap bastard has something other than cash to pay you with (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

note from author mercury: this is my entry for our slimeball collab over on @bastardblvd , figured the host of the slimiest event on this corner of the internet should probably contribute a lil somethin. let's pretend like i'm not shitting bricks bc this is my first time writing for gojo <3 ending is a little abrupt but i needed to get this out asap or i'd be scrutinizing it for the next five months

content warnings: female reader, unprotected sex, oral and fingering (reader receiving), overuse of the word 'cute', praise and obnoxious petnames (reader receiving), needing to keep quiet, fucking on the couch while the kids are asleep down the hall so if that's a concern for you please don't touch, panty fetish if you squint, cumshot?, implied you've fucked before, unfair compensation for your labor lmao, multiple references to the slimeball au so that may be super jarring if you aren't familiar.

↳ word count: 3.9k

It's almost eleven, which means Satoru is... very late.

Shit happens, you get it. Maybe work ran later than expected, or the train hit a freeloader on the way back to Grimetown, but still. You can’t help but feel bothered by the lack of text message from your pseudo-employer.

You would never complain about Megumi and Tsumiki. They're absolute angels, and caring for them has never felt like work. Besides, your only other options were a waitressing job at Franky’s or the graveyard shift at the gas station, which you heard is filled with... interesting characters at that time of night. Caring for the coolest elementary schoolers alive seemed like a no-brainer. The arrangement worked out in your favor as well. Satoru ended up moving you into his apartment complex due to his demanding schedule, wanting you to always be close – like two apartments down the hall close.

Contrary to the name, the Luxury Condos on Bastard Boulevard weren’t much of an upgrade from your last apartment. The landlord must be loaded because it’s a miracle this place passed inspection, but you’ll gladly accept updated appliances and neighbors without a small army of pet rats. Even the offensively high rent doesn’t bother you because your pseudo-employer paid it all in cash.

(You tried asking Satoru exactly where he got all this money from, to which he said, “It ain’t easy being the sexiest designer sunglasses model on this side of town. You gotta work hard to play hard!”)

Anyways, whatever is holding him, you hope it’s a good excuse.

In the meantime, you’ve taken up camp on his sofa, wrapped in a throw blanket that smells vaguely of Satoru's disgustingly expensive cologne. You were too lazy to change the channel from whatever cartoon Megumi was watching before bedtime, laughing through your nose every now and then. It’s not that bad, but still… You’d really, really like to go back to your apartment and hit the hay.

Maybe a little snooze won’t hurt, but of course, right as you close your eyes...

The smart lock clicks behind you. It’s a quarter past eleven when Satoru enters the apartment, looking gorgeous and unbothered, sunglasses low on his nose and DAISO cat-print tote bag slung over his arm.

"Daddy's home!"

"Shh!" you're glaring from the couch, lips drawn in a frown. "Megumi and Tsumiki are sleeping! Where the hell were you? You couldn't give me a heads up?"

"Sorry, babycakes. They loved what I was giving 'em, so the shoot ran overtime." Satoru grins at you, pulling the sunglasses off his face and ditching them in the catch-all along with his keys. His shoes are toed off and left by the front door. "Why, you miss me that bad?"

You're tempted to throw one of the many decorative pillows right at his big, dumb head. Instead you sink back into the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around your frame, grouchy. "Whatever," you sigh. "You're four hours late, so you better pay up."

Satoru sucks in air through his teeth. "Yeah, about that..."

You don't like where this conversation is heading.

"Some big guy outside the train station jacked my wallet on the way home. You'll never believe it, he had this fuckin'... worm? On his shoulder? Shit, it was crazy. So I don't have the cash to pay you, but–"

You glance over your shoulder at the man now rummaging through his bag behind you, eyes and tone full of warning. "Satoru..."

An opened package is waved in your face by a beaming idiot.

"– Ichigo daifuku! Your favorite!"

He's so full of shit. There’s one piece of mochi left, does he really think his already-eaten train snack will fix this? Probably, and as much as you'd hate to admit it, you do like strawberry daifuku mochi. Dammit.

Despite your annoyance, you don't get up from your spot on the couch. You're tempted to storm out, blow past Satoru and grab your things, maybe give him a good shove while you do it. However, you're tired, and no grand display of your frustrations would change the fact that you'd be returning tomorrow to pick up his kids from school. Also, your apartment is literally two doors down, so you wouldn't truly be escaping Satoru – you'll still feel his annoying energy seeping through the absurdly large gap under your door while you sit there, in the apartment that he bought you, stewing in your annoyance and eating your feelings in a single daifuku mochi.

God, you might hate this man. You don't even wanna look at him, but despite feeling this way, you let Satoru move closer, ditching the bag of sweets in favor of pinching your puffed-out cheek in his fingers.

“Aw, come on,” he pouts, redirecting your face towards his in an attempt to get you to look at him, but you don’t give him the satisfaction. You force yourself to look anywhere else but the man above you and stubbornly pretend you can’t feel the cool puffs of his mint-gum breath, or notice his devious grin from the corner of your eye. “Don’t be mad at me, babycakes. Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

“You can go to the ATM and get me some cash."

“Yeah, besides that.”

On the subject of things you hate about Satoru, you hate how quickly he switches up on you. One minute, he's the most annoying man you've ever had the misfortune of knowing. The next, he's smooth and serious. The kind of man that confidently leans in and ghosts his lips over your neck, intentionally fanning his breath over your skin because you made the mistake of telling him you're ticklish there.

"There must be some way for me to make this up to you," Satoru murmurs into your neck, the low vibrations of his voice making you shiver. It's then that you finally cave, eyes slowly meeting his, brilliant blues hidden behind heavy lids.

Unfortunately, he's very handsome.

"Okay," you huff. "Fine."

He kisses your cheek, then your nose, and then he kisses you.

You hate to admit it, but Satoru knows how to kiss. His lips are warm and soft, meshing with yours with confidence, tongue easing into your mouth in a practiced motion.

He momentarily breaks the kiss to join you on the couch, kneeling on the cushion beside you and leaning back in, cradling your cheek in his hand, murmuring against your lips before kissing them again.

"Let me show you just how much I appreciate you."

Satoru reaches down and rests his hand between your thighs, cupping your pussy through the rough fabric of your shorts. You bite your lip at the sensation, stifling a needy whimper, but he knows. Your grouchy demeanor melted so easily for him.

How cute, his little tsundere.

He squeezes you softly, then rubs four fingers up and down, keeping his pace slow.

"You know I can't do it without you, right?"

Your hips lift off the couch, chasing his hand as it continues its unbothered pace. Satoru rewards you by focusing the stimulation on your clit, switching to tighter, firmer circles over the sensitive bud.

"You're just saying that," you mutter.

"Nuh uh," Satoru teases. "I've never seen anyone be so good with my kids. They love you, you know. Maybe more than they love me."

That's not too difficult, you want to quip, but opt to bite your tongue instead. Satoru's touch feels way too good, you don't want him to stop or risk having your orgasm put off just over a snark. Instead, you curl your fingers into the nape of his neck, fidgeting with the shorter tufts of hair there.

Satoru kisses you again. His hand stops playing with your clit just to skim higher, unfasten the button and zipper on your shorts so he can touch you where you both want it most.

"And you know," he murmurs between kisses, fingers sneaking under the loosened waist of your shorts, then your panties, until you feel his fingers make contact with your bare clit. He watches your reactions closely, smiling when you gasp and buck up into his touch. "I like you too. How can I not? You're too damn cute."

His slender middle finger skims your folds, feeling the wetness there, letting it gather and get him all slick, making it easier when it finally pushes inside you. Just one finger already feels like so much, almost too much. He feels your walls bear down, his cock twitching lazily in his pants. How long has it been since he’s had you last?

You let him have you once before, back when he spent the whole day helping you move into your new apartment, carrying all those heavy boxes for you like the gentleman he is – and you, being the sweet peach you are, insisted on making him dinner as a thank you.

You reminded Satoru of a cute little housewife, puttering around the kitchen in your apron, though nothing was cuter than the sight of you sinking onto his dick that night, your hands and pussy clinging to him like you couldn’t get enough.

Every time he jerks off, he thinks of that adorable, pinched look on your face when the fat head of his dick first speared you open.

It's kind of embarrassing, the hold you have on him.

When you're taking his finger with ease, Satoru presses a second into your cunt, further stretching it out. "Come on, baby, open up for me," he coaxes, voice low and sultry. "Fuck, you don't know how bad I missed this pussy. Gonna let me fuck it again? Hm?"

"Uh huh," you're nodding, dazed, and the sight of you makes Satoru grin. The heel of his palm presses into your clit, providing the right amount of pressure when combined with his fingers.

"Yeah? Gonna let me have this cute pussy to myself?"

Cruelly, the motion stops.

The lack of stimulation makes you pout.

Satoru's fingers glide out of you with an embarrassingly loud squelch, intentionally brushing along your clit as they withdraw from your shorts and panties. His hand emerges, fingers glistening with clear threads of arousal webbed between them, and before you can think, he slips them past your lips and presses firmly on your tongue, prompting you to suck.

"Tastes good?" Satoru coos, delighted at your eagerness. "Let me taste now, okay, cutie?"

Shyly, you nod. His fingers withdraw from your mouth, leaving a dribble of spit on your bottom lip.

Satoru repositions himself to kneel on the floor in front of you, tugging you by the hips so your bottom half comes right to the edge of the couch, dangerously close to his face. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cunt, the sensation muted by your shorts, but it still makes you gasp. His fingers hook into your shorts and you lift your hips to help him pull them off, but he makes no effort to remove your panties with them. Instead, he fixates on the little wet patch right in the center, caressing it with his finger. Admiring it.

Fuck, you’re so cute. He can’t wait to get his mouth on you.

"Need to keep quiet, okay?" Satoru instructs, peering up at you through his lashes, watching you take your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. The last thing you need is to disturb the two rugrats asleep down the hall, even if you could pry yourself off Satoru and pull your shorts back on in record time. You don't want this moment to stop, not when the promise of his mouth on your cunt is so deliciously close.

You look so sweet like this, he thinks. Chest heaving, eyes wide and eager, one hand fisting the hem of your shirt, holding it over your stomach for a better view. Satoru smiles up at you, maintaining eye contact as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“What a beautiful girl.”

Satoru buries his face in the soft warmth between your legs. His nose presses into your clit, taking in your scent as his tongue ventures lower, finally getting a taste of your pussy and he shamelessly moans. It’s faint through the fabric. He knows he could taste you better without them, but something about eating pussy through a cute pair of panties never fails to get him so fucking hard. He likes watching them get wetter and wetter, until they're completely soaked from arousal and saliva and clinging to the shape of the pretty pussy underneath.

Your other hand flies down immediately, resting on the back of Satoru’s head to urge him closer, and of course he’ll indulge you. He’ll eat you just the same, dragging his tongue in broad strokes up to your clit, then sucking it into his mouth.

The muted sensation makes you whine. It’s not enough, yet so good. Enough to make your little pussy flutter under your panties. You push his head harder against your cunt, desperate to keep the kissing suction over your clit. You’re certain you could cum like this, between the pressure of Satoru’s tongue and the vibrations when he moans against you.

A string of saliva connects Satoru’s swollen lips to your panties when he pulls back for air, but this time he pulls the soaked fabric aside, finally getting an eyeful of your pussy.

“Well hi, gorgeous,” he lovingly coos, pressing a light kiss over your clit. “Did you miss me?”

Is he… really talking to your pussy?

Scratch that, you hate him again.

“What are you doing?” You ask, breathless.

“What do you mean? We’re having a moment,” Satoru replies, voice still sweet and airy, the same way one would talk to a cute little pet.

If you didn’t need him so badly, you’d kick him right in his dumb face.

Fortunately, Satoru cuts his little bit short and dives back in, tongue sweeping through your folds, finally getting his first real taste of your pussy. You taste even better than he could imagine.

You release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, body melting into the couch. Your fingers tangle in soft white hair, urging his head deeper, wanting to feel more of his mouth and Satoru obliges. His tongue dips into your cunt, fucking you with it, then drags up to your clit to lick in slow circles.

He really, really wants to be inside you right now. His dick is throbbing so hard, he’s amazed he hasn’t passed out yet, but Satoru’s always been a man with a sweet tooth. He doesn’t mind setting his needs aside a while longer if it means eating out some pretty pussy.

Maybe not too much longer though.

His fingers join between your legs, still slick from your saliva and arousal, and slip easily into your cunt. Making you cum is easy for him, his fingers thrust deep with each lazy roll of his wrist, stimulating that spot inside you with ease. Though, he can tell you're craving more of a stretch, so Satoru, being the chivalrous, generous, oh-so-kind man that he is, gives you a third finger.

Your jaw drops at the intrusion, pussy now spread wide to accommodate the stretch of three fingers as they curl and stroke your sensitive walls, drawing out more wetness and arousal until it drips down his wrist in clear drops.

Satoru knows you're close when you let out a particularly desperate moan, your hips stuttering and walls fluttering so perfectly on his fingers, clit pulsing against his tongue.

"Satoru, I'm–" you warn, trying to keep your voice low.

"I know, baby," he coos in encouragement. "Feels so good, doesn't it? Go ahead, pretty baby. Cum on my tongue if you need to."

You don't need any further coaxing. When you cum, you cum hard, hand smacking over your mouth to muffle your cries as Satoru keeps fucking you through your orgasm, fingers thrusting and tongue lapping up every drop of arousal your sensitive pussy drools out, just for him.

He rests his head on your inner thigh, watching fondly as you come down from your high. His fingers still thrust into you but his pace has slowed significantly, working you through it until your walls stop contracting. Your arousal coats his entire hand when it withdraws from your cunt, even pooling on the couch beneath you. It'll be a bitch to clean, but Satoru can't bring himself to care about that now. His dick might explode if it's not buried in your cunt in the next thirty seconds.

Even as you lay there, chest heaving, you still crave more. Your hands are greedy, grabbing at Satoru while he makes his way up and eases you back against the couch.

“Easy there, tiger,” he chuckles, hooking his fingers into your soaked panties and peeling them down your legs. "Let's take these off you first."

Your panties are discarded somewhere – probably his pocket, that pervert – before Satoru goes in for another kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. One hand rests beside your head, supporting his weight. The other reaches down and palms his dick through his pants. "You need my dick that badly? Hm? Turn around."

You oblige, rolling over to lay on your stomach and pretending the sound of his belt unfastening doesn't make you warm with anticipation. Satoru shifts to straddle your thighs, placing one of the cushions to rest under your hips, keeping you nice and comfortable while also elevating your ass to be closer to his dick. A win-win.

"Shit," he sighs, pulling his dick from his briefs and jerking it slowly, slicking himself up with your wetness. Precum beads at the tip and he rubs it against your folds, mixing your messes. "It's been a while, huh?"

"Satoru," you whine, pushing back against him, wiggling your hips slightly in a silent request for him to quit teasing you and get on with it.

Maybe that makes you greedy. After all, he was just nice enough to let you cum on his fingers and tongue, but you don't care. It doesn't hurt to be selfish every once in a while, especially with Satoru of all people.

When Satoru finally presses the thick head of his dick into you, it feels like you’re being split in two. He's immediately met with resistance, your cunt bearing down, struggling to accommodate it even with all the prep he gave you. So he starts slow and shallow, dragging his heavy dick in and out, bullying your cunt into relaxing and letting more of him fit. He pulls out and taps the head against your entrance again. "Come on, sweetie, open up for me~"

He eases into your cunt again, but this time Satoru leans in, his opposite hand settling on the other side of your head, smothering you with his weight in the best way possible. His body blankets yours, pinning your back under his chest and ass against his hips. His dick pushes into you with more persistence, inch after inch sinking deeper until he's buried to the hilt.

Your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open in a silent scream. You're probably drooling all over his couch, but it's hard to feel shame when he's filling you out so nicely. He's so deep, it's like he's forcing the air out of your lungs and replacing it with his dick.

His lips ghost over your shoulder, kissing it sweetly, then he starts to move. Slow, deep thrusts, only withdrawing an inch before he's chasing that warmth again. He fucks you as hard as he can without being too noisy, limiting the smack of his hips against your ass, even though he really wants to see it bounce from the force of his thrusts. If he could, he’d be making you scream right now, watch some pretty tears stream down your face because of what his dick does to you. Yeah, that would be cute.

Satoru ruts ruthlessly into the tight heat of your cunt, chasing the orgasm he’s needed so fucking desperately. Balls slap against your clit, heavy with all his pent-up release. He takes advantage of your open mouth and forces two fingers inside, pressing down firmly on your tongue and delighting in the way you slobber around them, in the way your cheeks subconsciously hollow and suck them deeper, still tasting your pussy on them.

Sucking on his fingers keeps you quiet, gives you something else to focus on if not the relentless pounding against your cervix, or how close you’re getting to snapping and cumming all over his dick.

“Shit, you’re so perfect,” Satoru huffs against your neck. "I can feel you squeezing me, baby, I know this little pussy wants to cum."

It’s hard to moan his name when his stupidly long fingers are prodding the back of your throat. You’re babbling, crying out for Thatowu to keep fucking you, it feels so good, and he’s grinning like an idiot above you. Yeah, baby? It feels good?

Satoru’s fingers withdraw from your mouth only to snake underneath your body and stake claim on your clit, massaging in slow circles, coaxing you closer to your orgasm. You can’t take it anymore. Your body goes limp, cheek smashed into the cushion, gaping mouth smearing drool all over the fabric while your cunt creams around his dick.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” Satoru moans, feeling your cunt squeeze around his dick like it's trying to swallow him whole. “Shit, you’re gonna make me cum. Is that what you want, baby? You want me to fill this pussy up?”

You’re too fucked out to answer, but that’s okay, because Satoru wasn’t really asking. More like letting you know he’s seconds away from driving his dick as deep as possible and unloading right against your cervix. God, he’d really like that, but he can't risk having any more rugrats right now. Not when his career as the only sexiest designer sunglasses model in Grimetown is taking off.

Instead, he pulls out of your cunt and manhandles you onto your back, quickly stroking his dick, filling the living room with the lewd sounds of your wetness squelching around him. You're laying there, dazed, legs spread wide and pussy exposed, all swollen and leaky and clenching around the air. The sight of your debauched face sends Satoru over the edge. He releases with a groan, cum splattering on your lower stomach, inner thighs, all over your pussy, before pressing the head right against your clit and letting the rest of his load drip.

You both need a minute after that. Maybe several minutes.

Blood still rushes in your ears when you come to. You push yourself up on shaking arms, Winnie the Pooh-ing it with your tee shirt and lack of panties. You're a mess, all sweaty with his cum painting your lower half, even parts of the couch underneath you. Maybe he'll offer up his shirt as a cumrag so you don't have to do the walk of shame to the bathroom.

You watch Satoru, who is already back to his normal, irritating self, snatch his bag off the side table, already craving a little something sweet. He chomps into the last strawberry daifuku mochi in the packet and you frown.

“Hey, I thought that was for me."

“We can still share,” Satoru teases, waving the mochi-half in your face with a grin.

Huffing, your eyes drop back down to the open bag on his lap and… wait a minute. Has that been here this whole time?

“Satoru, is that your wallet?”

He looks down, a little rice flour on his chin.

“Oh, shit! Where did that come from?”

#mercury writes

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purgatory-if · 7 months

Text

demo (tba) | faq | masterpost (you are here.) | art cred @aykaypee

You’re in danger, and every fiber of you knows it.

You’re sure, by now, that no matter what you do you won’t be able to stop it. Maybe that’s a good thing.

...This is the end.

You wish you had something that would remember you.

... YOUR life is a mystery to you when you wake up in the sunny fields of Purgatory. Apparently death isn't supposed to be a full memory wipe to the soul, but that's no problem, right? There's usually some sort of record kept of this kind of thing. If not for special cases like yours, then at the very least for organizational purposes. You're told all of that, assured that nothing is wrong and that this jsut 'happens' sometimes up until the moment they look for yur death and find nothing to speak of. Nothing of your life, either, just to make a bad time even worse.

Without knowing anything like this, it's safe to say that it'll be impossible to pass on. The underworld isn't built for fringe cases like you and even if it was, not even knowing who you were is disconcerting at best and cause for crisis at worst.

So alright. It shouldn't be too hard to find out how one person died, right? Detectives and story characters do it all the time- and now you have all the time in the world.

You should, anyways.

... FEATURES include:

play as a seriously unlucky pc whose cause of death depends on which route you decide to pursue

be whoever you want to be! standard for ifs nowadays; things such as pronouns, general appearance, personality all that jazz

8 romance options (mostly fem/non-binary, 1 option you can choose the gender of) and the ability to play as aro and/or ace

at least 4 poly romance routes!

love me some good vanity stats! vanity stats

get recruited (read: forced) into a 9-5 where time isn't real

beat up time

really symbolic mythology! i could write a goddamn essay on these fuckers

... PURGATORY is recommended for players over the age of 15, though I’m not going to police what you do on the internet. The game will contain major character death and death of all kinds, what is probably sacrilege, memory loss, fantasy violence, potentially sexually suggestive scenes and dialogue (hi ama.), morally dubious behaviour, and more. In-depth content warnings for each chapter and specific routes will be released at a later date.

... 'MAIN' CHARACTERS

THE DIVINE.

Angel (prns selectable) / Witty, charismatic, more than a little bloodthirsty, there's a certain volatility about someone who is Fate embodied. While they take their time on the many, many field missions necessary for stability in the multiverse or whatever very seriously, they'll put their restless passion into anything if it catches their eye for long enough.

Achlys (they/them) / Death itself, stoic and sharp and more than a little intimidating, it's hard not to let their mere presence get under your skin. While it would be nice to say that's not an intentional effect, the only unintentional thing about them is the fact that they're down here, of all places. They seem to be making the best of it.

Esme (they/them) / An angel in what is certainly an analogy for hell, classic, isn't it? They're little more than a shambling mess in a skirt if we're being honest, oh so scared of any shadow that moves in the corner of their vision. They truly do wear their heart on their sleeve, which seems to be an invitation for some to try and stop its frantic beat.

Amaterasu (she/they) / Don't let her meet your parents, is the only advice I'd give, because she'd be gunning for at least a threesome by the time starters are served. Unflinchingly forward and seductive, they're horribly charming in the most impermanant of ways. There's nothing she'll shy away from trying sooner or later, it seems, in or out of the bedroom.

THE MORTALS.

Viviana Alatorre (she/her) / Businesslike. Some people really don't change when they die, and going to this office just means you see the sun less on your coimmute. She doesn't appear to be dead, or alive, something in the middle. Out of everyone here, she's probably the most terrifying. Even more than the death god, probably because she's actively working towards terror.

Ailbhe Kahinu (she/it) / There's nothing that troubles Ailbhe, and it wouldn't be concerning if she was... y'know, dead. In the face of certain terror, it faces things with a shrug and a sigh. At least she's good-natured about this whole thing, being dragged down here by both her girlfriend (Vivi) and her sister (Rahley). The prices here are better than aboveground, anyways.

Rahley Kahinu (she/her) / Rahley's been compared to a robot more than one time, and while the comparison probably wasn't in good faith that doesn't mean it was necessarily wrong. She's intensely focused on her work, and her skill in that department seems to have drained her ability in things like basic conversation and empathy. So it goes.

M Blankenship (prns selectable) / Previously called 'Hit 'N Run' in the world of roller derby, the violent nickname seems odd on someone as cheerful as M. They act as a sort of tour guide for souls entering the Underworld proper instead of hanging around Purgatory, and it's hard to say their easy extroversion makes them anything worse than great at their job.

THE CONSTANTS.

Stratos C. Lusse (he/him) / The eternal guide to Purgatory for souls lost, souls found and all who are inbetween. He seems to have been here the longest--minus all of the deities, of course.

Octavia Hardin (she/her) / The part-time guide to Purgatory. She seems more likely to throw your soul into damnation if you cross her or anybody she cares about. Stay on her good side!

Salem Astor (she/her) / She would be a romance option if I had the energy to code in a shop feature. But I don't. So she runs free through the city.

Abbadon (prns selectable) / Personification of the past. If anyone can help you figure out what the hell happened to you, then they should be the one to go to. Sometime in the next 5 centuries would be ideal.

Maliel (prns selectable) / Personification of the future. Again, probably someone who can find out in a second what you'll know when you figure out this mystery, if you're able to find them at a good time. The woes of being a primordial deity.

...and more! Probably. Co-workers, pirates, other deities but this is running long.

#if: intro #interactive fiction #if game #if wip #choice of games #interactive game #twine game #twine if #interactive novel #twine wip #purgatory if #masterpost

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viridescenttemple · 1 month

Text

HEY EVERYONE HERE IM STILL ALIVE 2K3NRBJR

ART SOON! PROBABLY TODAY OR TOMORROW

IF U WANNA KNOW WHY I HAVENT BEEN POSTING U CAN KEEP READING IF NOT ILL SAY IMA BE POSTING WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT FROM HERE ON, AS IN DONT EXPECT ART FROM A SPECIFIC FANDOM FROM ME THATS ALL!

SO TO THOSE THAT KEPT READING, I WAS SICK FOR A SHORT WHILE AND DIDNT POST AFTER THAT UNLESS ONCE IN A WHILE, I WAS MORE IN TWITTER BY THEN AS WELL, AS TIME WENT ON I BECAME MORE AND MORE SCARED OF POSTING IN THE INTERNET, AND THE FANDOM I WAS IN WAS NOT GOOD AT THE TIME AS WELL SO THE FEAR KEPT BUILDING UP UNTIL I STOPPED POSTING ANYWHERE ON THE INTERNET [APART WITH CLOSE FRIENDS], ALSO IF UR WONDERING WHY MY TWT IS GONE IS BECAUSE I JUST DID NOT WANT TO BE PART OF THE FANDOM I WAS IN BEFORE AND WANTED TO CUT WITH IT PERMANETLY AND I BECAME SICK OF TWITTER IN ITS ENTIRETY, THE PEOPLE AND THE SITE IN ITSELF JUST IRKS ME IN A WAY I CANT DESCRIBE, TOO AGRESSIVE? I THINK IS THE WORD IM LOOKING FOR, ANWAYS WHY AM I COMING BACK HERE? ONE I CAME TO UNDERSTAND THAT I WOULD LIKE TO KEEP SHARING SOMETHING I LOVE [MY ART] TO THE WORLD, EVEN IF 1 OR 2 PEOPLE SEE IT, TWO IS THAT I DONT HAVE TO MAKE SUPER POLISHED ART TO SHARE THINGS I LIKE, IF IT COMES FROM MYSELF AND I LOVE IT THEN ITS GOOD AND THREE I FIND TUMBLR MORE RELAXING I GUESS THAN I DO OF TWITTER AND I WOULD LIKE TO SHARE MY STUFF IN MY LITTLE CORNER OF THE WORLD

THATS BASICALLY IT, IF YOURE WONDERING I STILL HAVE LIKE 2 TWITTERS STILL UP WITH MY ART ONE IS @/Vivi09039154 AND THE ORHER @/ViceraVermilli1 [privated bc i didnt want more people following it but i cant unprivate it anymore bc i dont have the password help] BUT THEYRE MORE LIKE ARCHIVES THAN ANYTHING, I DONT THINK ILL BE POSTING ON THEM EVER AGAIN AND IM NOT TOUCHING THEM AT ALL

HOPE YALL ARE HAVING A GREAT DAY IF U MANAGED TO READ UNTIL HERE MQBEHJEKE

#vi.txt #IF UR WONDERING WHAT IVE BEEN DOING IM MOSTLY BEEN STUDYING AGAIN AND DRAWING OC STUFF #I AM GETTING DRAGGED BACK INTO GUILTY GEAR AGAIN THO I LOVE ABA ANF PARACELSUS 2KB3HRJR #IMAGINE MY SURPRISE WHEN THEY CAME BACK

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nikosama13 · 2 months

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"Finish what you started." (Ace x Reader)

Description: You're the most precious member of the Whitebeard Pirates. The beloved biological daughter of the captain, Whitebeard. Everyone in the crew loves you like their own sister, except for one person. Now it's his job to finish what he had started.

Side Notes: Hey loves! Welcome back to my little corner of the internet. I hope you all enjoy this fic and have a wonderful day! (Probably spelling errors + requests should be open)

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ …consider following for more? (plz..)

~~~

It's a peaceful day on the ship sailing across the ocean. You close your eyes as you enjoy the fresh wind through your hair. You're the most precious member of the Whitebeard Pirates and the beloved biological daughter of the captain, Whitebeard. Everyone in the crew loves you like their own sister, except for one person..

“Hey, stupid! Don't just stand there like that!”

Ace, the second commander, the one who always bickers over every little thing with you, everyday like a dog and cat.

“What do you want now Ace..?”

Ace's eyes narrow as he walks closer to you, a smirk appears on his face. The wind blows away his long, black hair, exposing his deep eyes and sharp features. He scowled a bit as the wind blew on him. He crossed his arms and raised his voice.

“What do you mean what do I want? Can't I speak to you as much as I want?”

He had snapped a little and the tone of his voice came out rougher than usual, as he tried to hide his face with the brim of his hat. His eyes still looked at you though..

“Do and say as you please, I'm just trying to enjoy a peaceful day.”

Ace looked away, his face still looking annoyed but you can sense the hidden blush on his face. He chuckled, seemingly annoyed.

“Ah…You are always so carefree like that. Not very bright, aren't you?”

“Well you're not much brighter than me either.”

Ace scowled.

“Shut up…” He mumbled and looked away, trying to hide his blush. A moment later, he sighed and shook his head.

He looked back at you.

“You're acting dumb again.” you said smiling.

Ace rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Don't insult me like that…”

Once again his eyes narrowed, the wind blew at him, he crossed his arms, as his ears twitched.

“Or else what?”

“Oh please. That was so pathetic of a comeback. You and I both know I'm brighter, smarter, and even better than you in every way.”

He smirked, challenging you.

“Prove it then.” you spoke, glaring at him.

“Prove it?” Ace laughed.

"How do I 'prove it'?"

“Since you're so bright you should figure it out.”

Ace blinked. “Hmph. What a stupid answer from a stupid girl.”

“How about you shut up and leave.'' He was pushing you to your limit.

“Ahh! Typical girl answer, always running away after getting proven wrong. I really can't believe you're Whitebeard's daughter, you're disappointing compared to me!”

Ace crossed his arms and turned his back away from you, still fuming and still not being able to hide the little blush on his cheeks.

“But at the end of the day, you're the one blushing.” you said, surely this was going to throw him off.

Oh, and damn right it did.

“Shut up! S-Shut up! You…You..”

Ace mumbled but still was turned away from you, but his blush grew brighter at this point. Noticing your smirk at the corner of your lips and realizing that nothing he said can make you shut up.

“Yeah, yeah whatever..” That smirk is making Ace annoyed, but he couldn't deny that he's enjoying you teasing him like this. Ace scowls, and then his mood suddenly became playful.

“Hey…”

“What now?” you said unamused.

He smirked as he approached you, his eyes still cold but something else was hiding underneath from him.

“What happens if I…”

He leaned closer to you and grabbed the corners of your collar, pulling you into him. Ace chuckled, his cold eyes turned to a playful look as his nose almost touched yours.

“W-what you are doing idiot..?!”

Ace chuckled as he let out a small grin, but deep down, he couldn't stop his heart from beating so fast.

“I…I'm not doing anything~”

Ace's eyes still seemed playful.

Ace smirked as he pulled you even closer to him. He was clearly trying to make you angry, and at this point, he doesn't care what the crew would see and think about him if they saw this. Ace tilted his head slightly, making sure his eyes can meet yours when his lips are just about to touch yours.

He stopped. His lips only inches away from yours. He stared at you with the corners of his mouth curling up, wanting to give you a kiss.

But then he pulled back and let go of your collar, looking away as his face turned a bright red. He covered his face with his hat and groaned, trying to disguise the blush that's clearly obvious on his face.

“Why'd you stop..?” you giggled.

Ace mumbled something under his breath that you couldn't understand. He didn't dare to turn his face to you. This feeling, this feeling of wanting to give you a kiss while blushing heavily, is something new to him. He never thought about these kinds of feelings and thoughts ever before, not until you came and changed everything about him…

“Ace..?”

He stays silent for a while….his breaths came out heavier than before. Finally, Ace turned his head to you, his face still red as a tomato, but the blush slowly disappeared from his cheek.

“…Y-Yeah…?”

“Finish what you started..”

Ace gulped, as a chill went down his spine from the way you said it. He stayed silent, and moved his head slowly closer to you. His lips curled up and he placed it on your lips gently. His lips were soft and gentle as he held your head on the back. Ace's lips moved slowly, and kissed you passionately.

The kiss went on for a long time. Ace held you close and his lips didn't stop moving until he broke the kiss. Ace pulled away, breathless, and his face was red, blushing more than before. You could feel the heat coming out from his skin as he kept staring at you, silently wanting to say something.

“Uhm so..”

Ace was speechless, not knowing what to say. So he just kept staring at you with his blushing face, his breath seemed heavier than before, and he kept biting the skin inside his mouth. All while he kept his hat covering his eyes. He's speechless for once, which is something unusual for him.

Ace gulped and kept staring at you. His heart pounded like crazy. Never has he ever in his life thought he would have feelings for you, yet here he is now, blushing and speechless all because of one single kiss. Ace swallowed and cleared his throat. He didn't know what to say, what to do, what to think and feel. Ace stayed silent but all he knew is that…he wants more of this.

~~~

The End~

(Thanks for reading! If you do want a continuation please comment below.) (づ￣ ³￣)づ

…consider following for more?

#portgas d ace #one piece #one shot?#fluff?#slight angst #one piece strawhats #straw hat pirates #ace x reader #ace x you #ace x y/n #cute #short story #follow me #follow4follow

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charmercharm3r · 1 year

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lay me down gently

KSM

Masterlist

3/8 of The Sleepwear Series

wc: 4.5k

Synopsis: No one understands him the way you do, and he can't help the things you make him feel.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, sub!seungmin, oral (f receiving), furniture humping, scratching/marking, slight orgasm denial, master/pup/puppy, breeding, is this considered pet play? serious question, nice lil aftercare cus its what everyone deserves

He writes in his journal every day, without fail. Not a single soul has seen what it is Seungmin writes about, but he can sit there for a few minutes or a few hours jotting away. He started doing it a little bit after debut, there’s a pile of finished journals all dated in the corner of his room. Of course, the boys asked about what it is he spends so much time writing about, but Seungmin never gives them a straight answer.

Then he met you.

For the past four years, he never skipped a page unless truly necessary. Now, his journal has been sitting on his desk for five months entirely untouched to the point that it was collecting dust.

“I don’t get how airplanes work.”

Seungmin had a towel wrapped around his waist and another rubbing his hair dry as he entered his bedroom. You were laying on your stomach on his bed, scrolling away as he spoke.

“You travel for a living and you don’t know?” You respond, lightly laughing and pulling up google to search for the answer. As you typed you spoke aloud, “how do airplanes fly?”

Your boyfriend tossed the handheld towel into the hamper and hopped on top of the covers next to you, staring up at the ceiling. “I never thought about it before. Now that I have, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Baby, have I ever told you that you think too much?” He turns his head to look at you, then down at your phone.

“Once or twice.”

Google to save the day once again. “Here, something about pressure and the shape of the wings. I never took physics in school.” You handed him the phone and watched as he read over the answer.

“I still don’t get it. How does it stay in the air?” Seungmin used your phone to look closer.

These were usually questions he had for his journal, some deeper than others. A lot of those questions went unanswered and it bothered him to no extent, keeping Seungmin in a constant state of skepticality over anything and everything. Why he never thought to just look up the answer before you, he didn’t know. But now that he has you, he doesn’t stay up at night wondering alone anymore.

You watch as he ponders deeper into the internet. Silken, makeupless features were lit up in the dim glow, charming and lovely as ever. Seungmin always had the smoothest skin, you couldn’t help but pinch at it as he continued to read.

The book on his desk just a few feet away beckoned you to ask another question, “why don’t you write anymore?”

Seungmin barely glanced at the desk, lingering his gaze on you, “I have no need for it.”

“The guys used to tell me you would threaten to beat them up if they even looked at it.”

“I say the same thing about you.” It was so casual how the charm just oozed out of him.

“Kim Seungmin, are you comparing me to a book?”

Eyes wide in fake bewilderment, “only the most important book in my life. Every single thought I’ve had is written in it. That’s why there’s so many.”

“So how do I play into this?”

“Because I have you to listen to every single thought I’m going to have.”

“And that explains why you text me every few minutes whenever we’re apart?”

“Exactly.”

Content with his answer, “okay.”

“Okay.”

Then a thought struck you. “I don’t get boats.” Mouth parted slightly, he gazed up at you. “I mean, I know it’s buoyancy or whatever, but it still doesn’t make sense. How can metal boats float?”

It seemed to strike a nerve in him because his fingers rapidly tapped your phone screen. “Water displacement? I get that,” Seungmin showed you what he’d found, turning over on his stomach to lay like you.

“You get boats but not planes?” A small smile crept upon your face.

This is how nights with him went a lot of the time. He asks a question that leads to another one and another one until suddenly it’s four in the morning and neither of you are remotely tired but have to be up by seven.

“Yeah, boats don’t get turbulence. I don’t like turbulence.”

“I know you don’t. I also know that most of the ocean is unexplored. If you look up at the sky, that’s all there is.”

“There’s also aliens.” Rolling your eyes, your face planted into the pillow with a sigh. It was going to be another long night. You felt a hand thread through your hair and massage your scalp gently, a low moan escaping your lips as his fingers applied more pressure.

“And stars. Stars are pretty.” Turning to face him, a droplet dripped from his hair onto his lips, only for you to swipe away.

“The ocean is pretty, too.” Seungmin shifted onto his knees, rolling you onto your back for him to climb over your body. He had you pinned to the bed, his large shirt you had on now ridden up and exposing your panty-clad lower half. It wasn’t even a nice pair of panties, just some normal light grey ones that you wore when you wanted to be comfortable. Truth be told they were old and probably a bit too small, snug around your hips and butt and left indents in your skin and the bow on the front was hanging on by a thread, still, better than teeny tiny thongs to wear to bed.

He hovered just above your thighs, body hunched over to bring a chaste kiss to your lips one after another. Both his hands cupped your cheeks while your own landed on his bare thighs where the towel was now slowly coming undone. Kissing him was always saccharine, taking his time to drown in the feeling of your lips on his one of the only things that topped the absurd and alarmingly strange conversations the two of you share. It was a nice contrast, being able to go from talking about anything and everything to not having to say a single word to express how either one of you feel. It’s like you already knew.

Though, the moment didn’t stay sweet. Seungmin ran his tongue over your bottom lip with expertise to which you granted without a fight. Exploring your body was an expedition he never got tired of, letting his hands roam further to fondle your breasts over his shirt for a second before thumbing at the waistline of your panties. The digits traced up and down beneath the tight material, tugging lightly at it before moving to snap the lining around your legs, making you squeak into his mouth in surprise. Big hands found their way beneath your underwear, squeezing your ass and pulling your lower body up to brush against his.

Seungmin disconnected from your lips, “it’s big.” He smirked down at you, kissing your cheek and towards your neck. “And deep. So deep you can get lost in it.” A heavy grind of his cock against your now arousal soaked panties made you quietly keen.

“Are you still talking about the ocean?”

Against the nipped skin of your collar bone, “totally talking about the ocean.”

His knees were sturdy on either side of you as he used his raw strength to keep your body suspended, growing hungry every time you tried to roll up into him. It didn’t take very long for your arousal to soak through, spreading higher and higher up with every dry thrust of the towel shielding away his dick. The flesh of your ass molded around his fingertips, his grip almost slipping because of how rough his grip was. When your own hands found their way around his waist to slip under the towel and guide him harder into you, Seungmin ripped the fabric away all together and tossed it to the floor.

With a relieved sigh, his cock bobbed against his lower stomach, tip red and leaking. He moved off for just a moment to pull your legs from below him, bending and spreading to settle between them. A full view of your sopping pussy, Seungmin smiled almost evilly from his towering position above you. Just two fingertips ran over your pussy lips, feeling the wetness for himself and bringing them to his mouth to taste. A low groan erupted from his chest as Seungmin popped his fingers away, only to move the gusset of your panties to the side.

“Pup, no teasing tonight,” you breathe as he stares at your glistening cunt.

“Promise I won’t,” he says, pushing your panties as far as they’d go. “You lay there and be pretty. I’ll take all the teasing for both of us. Just looking at you makes me wanna blow.” You whined at the mention, “but I won’t. Won’t cum until you finish at least twice.”

Your nails raked hard across his ass and down his thighs, sending a shiver through his spine in a whole bodily reaction. It made you smile and giggle proudly as his dick twitched, knowing the feeling was mutual.

Hearing your giggle echoing throughout his bedroom inspired him. Seungmin shuffled backwards until he stood at the foot of the bed and took hold of your ankles, sliding you across the sheets. He instantly fell to his knees, eye level with your cunt as he draped your knees over his shoulders. Still with your panties pushed to the side, he sucked in a deep breath of your scent.

Before he moved any further, Seungmin looked up at you, eyes wide and chest breathing heavily. You reached for his hands and rested them along the length of your body, keeping a firm grip on his forearms. “Twice. No touching.”

His cock throbbed at the denial, the feeling of the tip tapping against the edge of the covers enough to make him more desperate. “Yes, master,” his handle on your thighs already bruisingly tight.

“Eat, pup.”

Seungmin kept his eyes locked on you as the tip of his tongue ran over your folds, your head falling back into the sheets under his warmth. An unrestrained moan escaped you as he ventured deeper, harder, hardly breathing because the taste of you was like oxygen itself. Seungmin eats pussy like a starved man, taking in as much as possible out of fear that he’d never have it again. He put everything to work, lips suctioning your clit, then tongue dipping into your hole only to have his nose nudging the bundle of nerves again and making your back arch off the bed, even whimpering into your cunt and vibrating through you.

Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches and crescent marks as you attempted to pull him deeper into you. His forearms were decorated in red lines by the time the burning of your first orgasm began to tighten in your stomach, your legs covered in already forming bruises under his hands. Your hips were rising and falling, trying to find the spot that would push you over the edge but Seungmin followed every movement until you held him in place by his still damp hair. Grinding up against his nose you found it, the final rub in just the right way and you filled the air with your wail of pleasure, holding his face snug against your pussy.

His tongue circled your entrance as you came down, opening your eyes to find him already staring at you. Tugging him away, his tongue hung from his mouth, out of breath. “Good puppy,” you praised, breathing just as hard.

You planned to take a second to breathe, not expecting Seungmin to use his teeth to pull at your panties and messily place it over your cunt again. Before you could protest he was already diving back in, lapping at you through the material. The change in texture was already making you squirm as it was faintly tender from overstimulation. You tried to push his head away, but the exhaustion was too great, not enough strength to fight him off. So you laid there and took it, afterall, he did say he’d do all the work.

Sloppy and practically drooling Seungmin was as he ever so gently teethed at your clit. The soaked fabric of your panties cushioned the sharp edges, though it still made you shiver. He reached for the hemline on your hips and tugged them up your body so strongly that it almost took you with it. The outline of your puffy, abused cunt shown through, doused in spit and arousal and it made Seungmin lose his fucking mind. He repeated his earlier actions over and over until you were a whining mess unable to fight the second overstimulated orgasm from erupting. The wet texture of your panties and warmth of his mouth was too good of a combination, paired so well alongside the dizzying vibrations coming from his sinful, hungry moans. You were trapped in your own clothes, drenched in sweat and saliva and the smell of sex, and Seungmin was right, you got lost in it.

You didn’t realize how lost he was, too, thrusting into the air and hoping his dick would hit something, anything for the long awaited friction he craved. The duvet covers weren’t doing enough for him, Seungmin was so desperate that he unconsciously scooted closer to the edge of the bed and found a tender spot in the side of the mattress, silently rutting against it.

He would’ve gotten away with it if he wasn’t manhandling you at this point, standing taller on his knees and taking you with him so your lower half was being held in the air. You looked up, only to find him humping against the bed.

It was hot, really hot. But you’d already told him no and it seemed like he was having too much fun by himself.

One hard tug of his hair away from your cunt made him cease his actions on you, but he couldn’t stop his hips from moving. “Have your fun, puppy. Just don’t cum.” He let out a high pitched wail when you lulled his face back into your pussy.

You were amazed by his multitasking skills. Maybe it was brainless muscle memory that made his mouth work wonders on you while also pushing himself closer to the edge. Honestly, you just wanted to see how far he’d take it, if he’d actually come from just the feeling of a lifeless mattress and the taste of you. “Does it hurt, baby?” You asked, voice airy.

Seungmin nodded, trying hard to focus. “Better hurry and make me cum, then. I don’t like to see my pup hurting.”

“Your pup,” he repeated almost intelligibly, tongue swirling stronger around your clit.

Somehow he still had so much energy, tongue moving with more fervor in messy figure eights. His display of adrenaline and strength to keep you held up was arousing in its own way, you couldn’t stop pushing your hips into his face, just as desperate for another high as he was for his first. He didn’t disappoint, suckling you in with the right amount of pressure to make you tip over the edge again into a borderline painful, blinding orgasm.

When your body relaxed from around his head, Seungmin placed you back onto the bed. His hips stuttered as he tried to stop himself from continuing rutting against the bed, your eyes just barely opening again to see him almost close to crying, eyes glassy and constant, whispered pants falling from his lips.

“D’you want something, baby?” Your words were taunting, most definitely teasing as you spread your knees just a bit wider to get a better glance at the tremble in his lower half. You wanted to call him pathetic, but he was just so cute.

Seungmin nodded rapidly, “want you.”

“Seems like the bed was doing a pretty good job there. You like humping furniture like the dog you are?” He shook his head even faster, “n– no, not dog. Puppy wants you, please, just you.”

It was so hard to tell him no for a second time. So you pulled him in by the back of the neck with your ankles, Seungmin jumped your bones, kissing up your belly and pushing your shirt over your breasts and latching onto your right one while his left hand tweaked the other. Finishing his fun with a deep bite into the skin, he bit more marks along your neck until he reached your lips and crashed into you. He attempted to hold his hips off you, but every time his cock accidentally smacked against your cunt, he’d shudder.

His head buried in your neck, you whispered, “you wanna be my good puppy?” Seungmin mumbled an “mhm,” and bit harder into your neck. You’d pushed him off by the shoulders, watching the desperate look on his face closely as you sat up on your knees and pulled your underwear down. It hadn’t gotten lower than your knees when your boyfriend quickly got to his feet and stood behind you, palming at your love handles.

“Down, boy. No jumping,” you smacked his hand away and he immediately took a step back. Concealing a smile, you fell back onto the bed on your back and heard him emit a small disappointed whine. “C’mere,” coercing him with your underwear hanging off one leg around your ankle, Seungmin hesitantly crawled back on top of you. Then you pulled him down into a sugary kiss, reassuring in more ways than one as hands hiked your knees around his waist and your nails dragged against his scalp. Almost as soon as you guided his cock towards your entrance, he’d lost his mind.

From the get-go he thrusted into you at a steady pace, your relaxed cunt welcoming him with hot, slick walls. Lewd skin on skin barely overshadowed the bounciness of your moans with every hard tap of his cock against your soft spot. From the back of his head, down his neck, and across almost every inch of his back did you leave searing, on the brink of bleeding scratch marks. And Seungmin loved every bit of it, it reminded him of his place, who he belongs to now and who he belongs to in the morning. Every line you drew along his body was like a collar and you held the leash, he just wished you’d actually put one on him.

He practically cried at the wetness that engulfed him, blinking away tears because of the stark contrast between the rough bed and your delicious pussy. Shaking, heavy breaths were all he could manage as your cunt sucked him in, not a single other thought when the sting mixed so, so good with the pleasure. You tried to be subtle in the areas you left your mark, but he wore oversized clothes anyways. By the time he was starting to lose rhythm the entirety of his back and biceps were criss-crossed covered.

He let out a whiney, high pitched mewl, telling you he was close. But that wasn’t enough. He was good for you tonight, but not that good. He could always be better– his words, not yours. There was always a chance for him to be a better puppy. Like now.

A stutter in his thrusts allowed a short window for you to scoot up the bed and let his cock fall from your pussy, not without a sour complaint from your boyfriend. “N– no, no, why?! So close!”

“That’s why, pup. Down,” he slouched back on his heels, cock unashamedly twitching and leaking precum like it was the only thing his body could produce.

You moved to kneel highly and peer down at him ever so slightly, hand finding his cheeks puffy and blushing. Brushing his hair from his forehead, you smiled, sickly like syrup. A chaste kiss to his lips, and he was calm again.

He didn’t know what to do when you moved onto all fours, ass up, face down. Seungmin ogled you like he’d never seen you naked before, as if he wasn’t just buried in you. Coming in unrushed, he took hold of your ass, running his big hands over it softly.

“Go on then, pup. Be good and fuck.”

It was like a switch went off in his head. Permission, access granted, entry allowed, he’d never stuck his dick in someone so quick. He’d also never been so deep in headspace before, but it was a long time coming with you.

Seungmin had revealed his little kink a while back and agreed to take it slow. He was just glad that this was one more thing to make it out of his journals, and with someone who loved and respected every single bit of him without an ounce of judgment.

Testing his own self restraint he dipped the tip of his cock past your entrance, heat spreading throughout his body. Then he thought to himself, screw this. Literally. He plunged his entire length all at once, making your body clench like a screenshot at the welcomed invasion, followed by a pleasant sob. Sheathed completely, Seungmin hunched over your back and stood himself onto his feet, and his thinning rope of control snapped. Balls smacking against you and using the fatty flesh of your ass to pound you against him, he had no thoughts other than cum.

“Oh, you fuck like a dog. What happened to my sweet puppy?” If it were anyone else, Seungmin might’ve laughed at the words. But your usual honey voice was cracking, pushing broken with how hard and fast he hammered into you. You didn’t even mind, too in love with this side of him that you didn’t bother him to finish you off a third time. Taking it upon yourself, you reached between your legs and rubbed circles into your clit.

He couldn’t even speak back, too lost in his own head as rigid breaths filled his silence. That was fine, he knew you didn’t need a direct answer now. All he could muster was, “not a dog.”

“No?” You chuckled a feigning innocent laugh, “my sweet puppy wouldn’t try to breed me like this.”

Seungmin practically growled, pummeling harder and deeper while also trying to make himself last as long as possible. He just couldn’t get enough, feeling like he’d die on the spot if he pulled out. But the mere mention of breeding you, how could one’s mind spin if they didn’t even have one?

“Only big dogs breed, baby. Are you one of the big dogs now? With a cock like that, why wouldn’t you wanna mount me? C’mon, pup. Breed me, if you can.”

It was a challenge designed for him to win. Tight convulsions of your hot, wet pussy practically wrote him his death certificate. Seungmin let his arms wrap around your torso, chest coming into contact with your back as he finished with a last few shallow pumps, riding the high immersed in your heat. Minutes of your lives were spent in this position, feeling as though he was coming for ages. You didn’t mind, though, and Seungmin didn’t either as he rubbed his forehead into your back.

He pulled out with a whine, soreness or reluctancy or probably both, kneeling behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see him in a dazed state and his eyes blinking slowly, looking like he was going to tip over. Without thinking, you sat up to steady him, helping him lay gently into the bed. Seungmin blinked a silent thank you, eyes full of adoration and awe. Hopelessly devoted, you stroked his cheeks softly, planting tender, bewitched kisses to his lips, cheeks, everywhere and showering him in love.

Pulling up the soiled panties from around your ankle to catch the spilling cum, you hurriedly slung the shirt back over your breasts and made a break for the bathroom for some wipes and maybe scar cream. Finding them and running back to his room, Seungmin was on the brink of sleep. There was a strange noise as you teetered through the hallway, something of a thump, but you were sure it was nothing.

“No sleeping yet, baby.” With an exhausted groan, Seungmin let you maneuver him and around him, starting with wiping down his lower region delicately. He winced when you swiped away the fluids from his flaccid cock, but let out a sigh of relief when you were done. He was even harder to handle to get onto his side so you could clean his scraped back and dab the cream wherever need be. You’d done a real number on him this time, his skin scratched so raw that any slight mistaken movement might hurt. But it’s what he likes, you’re just there to bandage him up afterwards.

So you lightly clean his wounds, not hearing a lick of complaint from the cold of the towelette. A proud smirk painted your face as you gazed over your artwork, but an almost beast of a snore snapped you from your trance, giggling to yourself over your versatile boyfriend. He had fallen asleep. And that was okay, too, you expected as much after all was said and done.

The only things left to do were to wipe yourself down, change out of these filthy underwear, grab a new one of Seungmin’s shirts, and climb into bed with him. After all that, you’d found your phone hidden beneath the pillows, seeing his glowing on his side table.

Checking yours first, there were just a few unanswered messages.

felix (skz) >> please check seungmins phone

felix (skz) >> like now

felix (skz) >> im begging

You panicked for a second. What was so urgent that Felix needed to message you in the middle of the night?

Reaching over your sleeping boyfriend, you took his phone off the charger and looked at his notifications.

Missed calls, missed texts, missed face times, all in the upper eighties of notifications. To read a few;

menace minho hyung >> shut the fuck up

menace minho hyung >> shut the fuck up or i’ll piss in ur cereal

lix >> pls let me sleep i'll do anything

lix >> is someone crying?? do i need to call an ambulance??

lix >> im so scared mom pick me up

jeonginnie >> there’s a reason i chose the room furthest from you

jeonginnie >> now there’s two grown men in my bed

jeonginnie >> one of them has 119 speed dial

jeonginnie >> the other is holding a carton of milk with your name labeled on it

jeonginnie >> shut the fuck up

lix >> WHY IS Y/N COVERED IN BRUISES WHAT DID YOU DO

Both mortified and hysterical– mostly mortified– you replied back to Felix.

<< im…so…sorry… it's safe to go back to your room now…

felix (skz) >> its not safe until seungmin is moved into ur place

You couldn’t help but laugh harder, trying hard not to wake your boyfriend. But he stirred either way, arm instantly finding its way to drape over your torso and tug you closer to his body. “Why’re you laughing?” He squinted one eye open.

“We have some noise complaints and maybe an eye witness,” you giggled into his chest, tossing the phones aside and snuggling closer into him.

Seungmin closed his eyes again, getting comfortable in your embrace once more, “fucking losers.”

A/N: *taps mic* is this thing on... damn site has been acting up so much lately I reeeeeeally hope this post pulls thru :(( also if I'm missing anyone on my tag list please comment on my separate post for it pinned to my profile! reminder please have age indicators and a non-bot looking profile just any reblogs or interactions will suffice. AAAAAAND stay tuned for part 4 ;)

TAGS: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @aliferousminho @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules

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