#despite the fact they never actually interacted at all

[barbwritesstuff]

with regards to why chris is so unexpectedly popular, I've actually spent a lot of time thinking about their appeal to me specifically because they're not at all the kind of love interest I usually go for in interactive fiction, as both a character with a preexisting relationship with the MC and a "normal person" who doesn't have a personal stake in the main plot.

It mainly comes down to two things: the built in drama and catharsis of the scenario - in act one, the sense of being SO WRONGED and MISUNDERSTOOD, if only they knew what the MC has been going through, they would be so so sorry, etc. To me, it's a strong hook for their romance. Later, they are in a special position as the only LI to have known and loved the MC before they became a vampire, that they fall in love with them again is like. crazy. it drives me crazy. I'm the thing that puppets your dead lover's corpse - can you love me? if I travelled so far from you for so long that i lost myself, my very soul, would you know me? My circumstances have changed, I've had to compromise my ethics, I am dangerous to know, will you permit me to parent your our child? I am not what I was, take me as I am. god. I'm unwell.

number two is the main thing, and it's your wonderful ability to write characters who are both deeply, humanly flawed while remaining sympathetic and, crucially, interesting (Roe is my fave example of this in Blood Moon). IMO a common trap for love interests that have a history with the MC is for them to either be angels or the worst people on earth, in order to justify either the breakup or a desire to get back together. they also tend to lack development in comparison to the rest of the cast. But Chris is so immediately reasonable and intelligent, even though they are not at their best in the wake of the breakup and seen through the MC's biased and hurt POV. this impression only increases as you get to know them, and every conversation and encounter with them is revealing. Their strong boundaries, their love for their child and ability as a parent, the fact that their new partner kinda sucks tbh. they way they hold the mc accountable despite what you might call an imperfect understanding of the situation, lol. The full picture of them is so worthy of respect and affection and honesty.

Anyways. apologies for the love letter <3.

Never apologise for this. I love this. I am obsessed with this. I'm begging for more of this. I love it when people dive deep into my stories and characters. Chris was never meant to be a 'fully fledged' RO, but comments like this might just change that.

[da-shrimping-station]

Andrealphus with a human!SO who's curious about his scars

gender-neutral reader | slightly suggestive | mentions of sex and nudity | he calls his SO darling as an endearment | nonsexual intimacy (for the most part ig?)

MINORS DNI

i will take your kidneys 🧡

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

He can feel them staring intensely. It doesn't bother him the slightest, given that he's received far more hostile glares, but that doesn't mean he's not curious. It's rare for his darling to look at him like that.

"Is there something wrong?"

Andrealphus turned to where they are, senses acute enough to locate them despite their quiet. There was a rustle of cloth and soon enough a body pressed against his.

"You have a lot of scars..."

"Do they bother you?"

He was never one for vanity, before or after being blind. What only mattered was that he was, at the very least, clothed. Even when he became one of Niflheim's nobles. Black did well with bloodstains and a simple suit was all he needed. A tie was out of the question because no matter how much he practiced, he somehow could never get it right. And the only reason that he bothered to braid his hair was because it could be a liability in battle, what with getting tangled or grabbed if he let it be.

So, appearances were the least of his concerns. So long as his body functioned well enough to fight, that's all that mattered.

"They don't bother me," they reassured. "It's just that, seeing them makes me realise what you went through."

Their fingers gently tapped at his wrist before holding his hand.

"I never really cared for the scars." For the majority of his existence, all Andrealphus did was fight. "The doctors from Paradise Lost can't say no to me when I ask for their assistance."

He's a model patient to them, following orders and recommendations to hasten his recovery. Rushing things would be a detriment in battle.

There had been times when he'd been too zealous with fighting and outright disregarding his physical state in order to fulfill his bloodlust. It cost him and his comrades dearly.

Gusion's rant and Bathin's disapproving comments still ring in his ears to this day. Yet they still helped him, dragging him back to where Marbas was in order to receive proper treatment. He made sure to express his thanks by staying put and actually listening to the doctor.

"Still," his darling insisted, snuggling closer to him. "It makes me sad, I guess? That you had to go experience such pain. I know you can handle it and that you've gone through worse but..."

The pair sat in silence, the mid afternoon sun filtering through the window and the sheets rumpled over their bare lap.

Andrealphus thinks he understands. Humans are delicate after all and Niflheim demons are the hardiest of devils in Hell, followed by those of Tartaros. Not to mention he is a noble to boot. Suffice to say, his body can take a lot before he's down for the count. Yet he also understands their concern, he thinks. They've never interacted with devils before they got to Hell and what knowledge they have of its residents are only surface level.

Maybe he should accept Gusion's offer of tutoring his darling about the norms and cultures in Hell. There was also a suggestion from Bathin to give them basic training for self defense.

Maybe.

Are his scars that unsightly that his darling would go so far as to point it out? It's not that he's unaware of them. They're just a fact of life, given that the entirety of Hell was at war for a century now and he was constantly on the frontline.

"Are they that unsightly?" Enough for them to point it out?

"No. Not the slightest. In fact," they trailed off, sounding a little hesitant. "I find them attractive."

"Oh, I have no doubt towards that," Andrealphus said with a chuckle. "If I remember correctly, you jumped on me the first time you saw me shirtless—oof!"

His darling punched him lightly (to him at least), as they grumbled in embarrassment. He wrapped his arms around them, pulling them in for a kiss. They still haven't cleaned up from earlier activities, thought that's the least of his concerns right now. Not when his darling kisses him back with equal fervor and adoration.

"Andrea–" They gasped, moaning as Andrealphus set his eager mouth to their chest. Such music to his ears. "C-can I touch your– Ah! Your scars–"

Their nails dug into his shoulders, trying to steady themself as he set them on his lap properly. He growled as they yanked at his hair, halting his onslaught so they can catch their breath.

"Can I?" They asked, breath ragged and a face flushed.

"You can touch wherever," he said, giving them one last kiss as reassurance. He let them settle on his lap properly and patiently waited.

Hesitant fingers traced along his right bicep. He knew there was a scar there having touched it when he bathes.

"Where is this from?"

"Sparring with Bathin."

"Oh?"

"He is skilled with his sword. If I were any slower, it would've gone through my arm."

His darling let out a concerned hum but kept quiet nonetheless.

The rest of their afternoon went like that. Tentative touches on scar tissues and hushed voices asking questions as they explored the visible scars on his body. They used to be inconsequential to him. Just another notch on his body as proof of another hard won battle and further proof of him reaching his goals. But with how his darling touches them, even going so far as to give the bigger ones a kiss made him feel proud to have them.

Andrealphus thinks he'd found a slice of paradise, here in his humble home, with his darling in his lap, and the rest of the world so far away.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────

A/N:

hiiii i've had a bit of a drink and when im drunk, i write (because i need me some of that dutch courage to stop being conscious about my writing)

gonna add this to my collection of "drinking drabbles"

this was all done in one sitting and definitely not proofread so,,,,,,,

also typed this all up on mobile so idk what's the word count or if the formatting is okay

eheheheheh 🦐

#what in hell is bad #whb #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad? #what in “hell” is bad? #whb andrealphus #whb andrealphus x reader #how do i tag this #anyway i was itching for some Andrealphus content #gotta #make my own damn food ig #and here we are #pls im gonna be embarrassed about this when i sober up #🦐:drabble

[vatrocvet]

hawkshaw dress up game but i draw all the assets (the hawkshaw design itself is by @/whisperingrockers, i just had fun with the outfits)

#tangle tower #detective grimoire #detective hawkshaw #sigghhhhhhhhhh.... i don't know if i like these or not #i wanted to try and work in an entirely different style and approach because lineart and minimal coloring are my usual #so this was fun but i don't know if it's as pretty as my usual.... eh #the style is itself inspired by my 55+ hours in blasphemous and how secret of the swamp looks #all the fits have names... 1st is 'horus' #2nd is 'entrance to the opera' #3rd is 'seafoam-soaked heart'. and yes that color is intentional absolutely do assume what it might represent #i had a lot of fun with the pretty clothes and that's what counts #i have drawn something #also i wanted to give hawkshaw a bird motif because. 'hawk'. and the story tethering them to eachother #despite the fact they never actually interacted at all

[piosplayhouse]

Not going to get involved in the ao3 politics shit but I just want to say after reading some of the top posts on this site I can tell most of the people talking about this subject very clearly did not experience Sexytimes With Wangxian

#honestly though despite how you feel about rhe big topics i havent seen much discussion about how The Candidate just... doesnt seem #experienced to be working that position at all? just objectively reading her interview she says she has NO experience working online #even communicating with slack or such; self proclaimed fandom newbie etc #like I can't tell you what to think about the big issues but like if you wanted to hire someone to work at your local dog shelter #and you interviewed them and they said they only really just started interacting w dogs and they had never had any experience #with dealing with caring for animals at all or the adoption process.. would you hire them lol #anyway just my 2 bits #ao3 #ao3 discourse #also hiding this at the very bottom of the tags bc i dont want to catch heat but i actually dont think people are aware so just to qualify #the rpf rhat got ao3 banned in china was not about a real life minor . i see a lot of people talking about minor rpf and i think its weird #as shit too personally but just to get facts right the rpf that allegedly sparked the ban was about a 30yr old adult man #idk if that changes anything but just putting that out there #oh ok also im getting intel that the reason the fic was mass reported and ao3 wS subsequently banned was because the fic #featured one of the actors as trans. so thats a frightening addition if true

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

feeling very weird about the last two episodes of Miss Scarlet (3.3 and 3.4), because I... actually really loved them?? and I know it was largely because of the absence of William.

which I find odd, because I actually DO like him!! he's a complex and interesting character, he and Eliza's spark off one another is really fun (and also lbr, infuriating, and that's a large reason why this show works; hence the title), and I just... genuinely do like the character. he's irksome as all get-out, he can be entirely insensitive and a touch misogynistic and sometimes I really do wanna break his nose. but I still like him! he has a part to play in this story and I understand that for what it is within the narrative, I really enjoy it!

and yet... I've felt like these last two episodes were some of the most genuinely well-written and especially well-character-written ones for a good while.

I guess it's just because, with the Duke out of the picture, other characters aren't constantly being held up to him in one way or another. Moses, Detective Fitzroy, Mr. Nash, Detective Phelps--they're all given a chance to be developed as characters in their own right, instead of just supporting William/William and Eliza's relationship. and even Eliza grows and is a far more multi-faceted and, I think, genuinely enjoyable character when she's not reduced to simply her reactions to and against William.

I'm intrigued, to be honest. I know he's back in his usual spot as the second lead in the next episode, and I'm looking forward to seeing what happens given the ~revelation~ in the very last scene of episode 3.4... but I'm already kind of sad that the rest of the characters I've so enjoyed getting to spend more time focusing on are going to once again be cast in the shadow of 'Miss Scarlet and the Duke'. despite that literally being the entire point of the show.

#idk what's up with this but. it's a weird feel? #and I'm probably not communicating it well... #I think it's just that I feel like after 2.5 seasons #those two are kinda stuck in a rut?? they're in a perpetual cycle of nonsense with one another #seemingly never getting a n y w h e r e in either their personal or professional relationships #and despite the fact that they CAN in fact make a FANTASTIC team together... they also kind of bring out the worst in each other #and so Eliza is often at her most combative and disagreeable and William is often at his most resistant and authoritarian #when they're together and clashing over whatever new issue they've found to argue about this time #and since Eliza really is the /most/ lead character #I feel like she's got a lot more room to breathe and grow and *be* the Lead Character in general whenever she's not constantly bashing #heads with William and she has other characters to interact with #other people who challenge her assumptions and test her willpower and her investigative skills and who provide her with a very different #sort of jumping-off-point to what William usually brings #it... adds enrichment to her enclosure? I think that's actually what I'm trying to say here?? X'D #I'm not going to be one of those people who watch a series just to bash on half the MC group or to anti the ship that the show turns around #but it's still really funny (funny like odd) to me that I feel this way about all this #miss scarlet and the duke #gurt says stuff

[mantisgodsdomain]

i just wanna say that you're 100% right about Vi, i also wish people wouldn't just toss her aside like that, she's just as important to the team. like, she has depth dang it! she's more than just Funny Bee Who Likes Berries! also you're super right about people trying to squish Team Snakemouth into little nuclear family shaped holes. that's all, just wanted to give you a high five for complaining about stuff that also annoyed me

We've been chattering about it for... more than a year now, we think? Not necessarily via public venues, since this fandom's close-knit enough that stepping on toes is a major issue, but Team Snakemouth is a TRIO, not a duo, and trying to squish the relationship down to just "two dads and their baby kid" really just seems... reductive. Exhausting.

Vi's one of our favourite characters in the game, and it gets really tiring to see her treated as a third wheel. Even beyond the infantilization that's utterly rampant in this fandom, Vi, more than everyone else, gets things... sanded off, or just ignored. Either she's a bratty little kid who doesn't know better, or she's a background object, and that's just... taking a big chunk out of the team dynamic. She's got complexity! She's part of the team, not some random kid that Kabbu and Leif are dragging along on their adventures! She's a valuable part of the team, and she should be treated as such!

#full disclosure saying anything abt vi is like. the only thing thats gotten us hate here bc some people in here are weird abt it #we do think that a lot of the fandom issues here also track back to the refusal to acknowledge the incredible dysfunction of the hive #like. vi's Fucked Up and just because no one's dead doesn't mean that her trauma is any less valid #everything that caused her misery is still alive and kicking and she has to make nice with it as part of her job! #her ENTIRE first interaction with jaune reads as textbook emotional abuse! like. we could read symptoms off from a textbook for it #vi is in that specific Young Adult stage where shes striking off on her own and running up against the wall of not knowing how to do shit #and in that specific state where she was never taught to do her own shit because she was never expected to strike off outside of the family #shes reverse engineering being a functional person from peanuts and a handful of leftover abuse! of COURSE shes a bit fucked! #she ran away from home and sheltered with a bunch of criminals and shes incredibly written as an abuse survivor but it still seems to be #unintentional #shes a neat character. we still think abt the fact that the devs discounted her as “not having actual problems”. #we can elaborate on all of these points btw #at all times we are like 5 seconds away from pulling out several different articles on emotional and familial abuse and going full like #“do you understand? do you see the problem? do you understand whats happening here?” #we still think abt the fact that vi was working shifts at the honey factory before running away #we think abt the fact that that canonically involves things like days-long shifts. we think abt “theyre used to being there a while” #we think abt how jaune uses “child” as a blunt force weapon to discredit vi's thoughts and feelings as not really mattering #and how vi reacts to being called a kid in light of it #and how bianca leaps to claim her as Her Child once vi's accomplished something decent despite vi being visibly uncomfortable #we think about how a queen can claim any worker as Her Daughters but most workers cant call their queen their mother #we think about it a lot #...anyways this has derailed into vi trauma talk but uhh. yeah the current fandom attitude annoys us to hell and back #she isnt just Some Kid and tbh calling her a kid in general rubs us the wrong way if only because of how much baggage she has attached #obviously shes not gonna be normal or well-adjusted. have u SEEN her household? she ran away to an illegal bar over her house #but it could really help if people could treat her like a person rather than just a child accessory to her teammates adventures #she earned that damn self-sufficiency and by fuck we are gonna get some decent stuff out there even if we have to claw it from our own mind #bug fables #we speak #asks

[wonusite]

Cat and Mouse

❝ Wonwoo doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant in avoiding him after the amazing night you two spent together, but he’s not going to let you get away from him so easily. ❞

PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x female reader

GENRE: bad boy au, smut

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

WARNINGS: bad boy!wonwoo, allusions of illicit activities, descriptions of minor injuries, wonwoo is down HORRENDOUS, reader is in denial about her feelings, our bad boi is soft for one (1) person, mutual pining, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation, mating press, aftercare

ㅤ→ continuation of this timestamp

A/N: here’s a little something to celebrate one year with this blog. very grateful to all my followers and mutuals who’ve made this past year amazing! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Wonwoo glares at his phone, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek in annoyance.

It’s been a week. An entire fucking week without hearing from you. He knew he should’ve ignored Jihoon’s calls and stayed in bed with you that night, but when he sent a message saying the entire crew needed to be there, he couldn’t ignore it. Now, he really wishes he would have.

The night he spent with you was the most incredible of his life, and now he might never relive it because he left in a haste, only leaving you with a brief kiss and a promise to come back.

“You still torn up over that sweet lil’ thing from that flower shop?” Seungcheol's voice has never sounded more irritating than it does now.

“That’s Shua’s girl, dumbass.”

Being on the receiving end of that mean tone and angry glare doesn’t faze Seungcheol in the slightest. In fact, it only causes his infamous smirk to get wider. To see the stoic Jeon Wonwoo acting up over a girl is not only a rarity, but it’s also really fucking funny. That’s why he can’t resist pushing Wonwoo’s buttons further.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Seungcheol cackles. “Guess you better hurry up and help us finish this shit. Her shift ends soon.”

Wonwoo can feel his irritation near that boiling point he could usually avoid. Of course Seungcheol knows about your schedule. That asshole has the annoying habit of knowing everything about anyone who is even the tiniest bit associated with the crew. Sure, it’s for precautionary reasons, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. Nonetheless, Wonwoo focuses on the task at hand so he can catch you before you leave work.

Jeon Wonwoo is the bane of your existence.

From the moment he first came around with that stupidly attractive smirk of his, your life was never the same. And now that you fucked him, it never will be again.

Giving into your carnal desires isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but getting mixed up with the likes of Jeon Wonwoo definitely is. Despite not knowing all of the grimy details, you know he’s bad news. You can see all the red flags clearly—the people he hangs around, all the fights he gets in, and the tattoos littering his body. And yet, none of those warning signs mattered now or when Wonwoo was ravishing you in a way that still made your toes curl just by thinking about it.

Maybe the worst part of it all is that you can’t get the resident bad boy out of your head, or the way he held you after you two had sex. It’s like you can still feel how he nuzzled into your neck, strong arms tightening around you like he never wanted to let you go. Part of you hopes that he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t had some urgent business to take care of. It’s a dangerous thought, but even so you can’t help but crave that uncharacteristically sweet side of him that he presumably only showed you.

A displeased sigh comes out of you as you gather your things to go home. It’s bad enough that you can’t stop thinking about Wonwoo, but to think that you’re actually pining over him even though he literally disappeared after your night together is—

“Y/N left already.”

It’s Mingyu’s voice you hear at first, and it makes you stop in your tracks. You wonder who could be asking for you until you hear someone answer him. It feels like your heart is going to jump out of your chest when you hear a familiar deep voice that has your stupid pussy clenching in anticipation.

“Alright. Thanks.”

You peek out from the back when you hear the door chime. It’s annoying that your chest tightens when you see a set of wide shoulders draped in a leather jacket walking toward the large motorcycle parked outside. The way your mind goes blank yet is also clogged with nothing but thought of Wonwoo is infuriating. You don’t realize you’re pouting at the exit until Mingyu jumps back in shock at seeing your sulking figure.

“Y/N what– I thought you left!” He says, vaguely gesturing behind him. “You just missed your boyfriend! I think he wanted to take you home—”

“Boyfriend?” You interrupt him, not entirely angry or disgusted that your coworker had referred to Wonwoo as such.

Mingyu furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah? The scary dude with the leather jacket that comes in here all the time just to see you. He’s your boyfriend, right?”

It’s almost mortifying that your sweet but oblivious coworker can tell that there was something going on between you and the resident bad boy. And yet, there’s also a part of you that likes the fact that Wonwoo is so obvious about his feelings. You don’t know what to make of these conflicting emotions that you can’t seem to shake, and seeing Wonwoo (even just the back of him) didn’t help you find the clarity you so desperately need.

“Well, even if he’s not, he definitely wants to fuck you.” Mingyu says with a wink as he brushes past you to check on the pastries he had put in the oven ten minutes ago.

You wonder how he would react if you told him that Wonwoo already has.

Wonwoo thinks you’re the cutest person ever. And the part of you he finds the most cute? The fact that you actually think he’s going to let you avoid him forever. You’re good at it, he’ll give you that (even if he can see right through your every method).

It’s funny that you actually change your off days and regular working hours just to avoid seeing him and throw him off, which it does—at first. He knows you haven’t quit because Josh mentioned seeing you at the bakery when he went to buy the love of his life a cake for her birthday. This is confirmed when he goes to see for himself the next day.

Maybe you don’t realize Wonwoo can see you run to the back through the large glass windows when you hear his motorcycle, but either way he thinks it’s funny. Actually, it’s hilarious because soon enough you were going to give into him like before.

Meanwhile, you feel like a mouse being preyed on by a sly cat—one that’s toying with you before he finally catches you. Avoiding Wonwoo had been easy at first, but now you’re starting to wonder if he had let it seem easy.

“Babydoll.”

You almost drop a tray of croissants when you hear a familiar deep voice calling for you. The way you whip around with a gaping mouth must be hilarious because Wonwoo just smirks at you in that infuriating way that drives you crazy. Your hands tighten around the tray as you snap your mouth closed, trying to contemplate on how to navigate the situation.

With a bit of a mental pep talk, you finally manage to put up that happy to help attitude you usually had with every other customer. The smile you give him feels exaggerated and fake, but it’s the only way you can mask all the emotions you’re feeling.

“What can I get for you?”

That devilish smirk widens as Wonwoo pretends to skim all the delicious pastries in the case before he sets his smoldering eyes back on you. “This all looks good,” he muses quietly, but you can hear him perfectly since it’s only you two. “But I think you’re the only thing that can satisfy my hunger.”

It kills you that his words make you heat up from the inside out. You ignore him and start to put the croissants into the case. The clench of your jaw is tight and bordering on painful, but it’s the only way you can keep your emotions from spilling over for him to see.

Unfortunately, your lack of response doesn’t really faze him. One thing you’ve come to learn about Wonwoo is that he’s never uncomfortable in the silence. You wish you could say the same. You’re nearly squirming by the time you’re done placing the croissants in their designated space because he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you once.

Finally, you look up to meet Wonwoo’s gaze. It’s so intense that you almost want to look away. However, there’s a part of you that loves being under the heat of his stare since you can clearly see the desire he has for you.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“You’ve been gone.” You counter, vaguely aware that you sound like a sulking girlfriend.

Wonwoo realizes this too because he gently coos at you. “Missed me, babydoll?”

Yes. “You wish.”

It’s obvious Wonwoo doesn’t believe you. That stupid smirk of his only seems to get bigger with every passing moment, and you don’t know if you want to kiss it or smack it off his face.

“I missed you.” He tells you honestly, loving how you’re visibly growing flustered with his words.

Resisting him would be a lot easier if he wasn’t so tempting to you and if the feelings he always evoked from you weren’t so strong. Before you can say anything to betray your easily crumbling facade, Mingyu comes out from the back with a tray of small cakes. Wonwoo gives you a once over before stepping away from the case.

“I’ll be back after your shift. Wait for me.”

You don’t wait for him—technically. It’s not waiting since Wonwoo is already outside of the bakery when your shift ends. He’s clad in his leather jacket, dark jeans, and signature combat boots. It’s not fair that he can lean against his bike so casually while looking as good as ever.

Ignoring him would’ve been all too easy, but you can’t when you notice the bruises and cuts on his pretty face. A familiar irritation bubbles in your chest, but annoyingly enough, it’s overpowered by the concern you feel. You react before you can fully think your actions through.

“What the hell!”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen the tiniest bit when you stomp over to him with angry tears in your eyes. You can’t even enjoy his cute shocked face because of the overwhelming concern and anger you feel. All you can do is hit his brawny chest in frustration.

“You—You asshole!” Your voice cracks with raw emotion as you continue to weakly hit his chest. “You said– you promised that you weren’t going to fight anymore—!”

Wonwoo lets you hit him. His chest aches, but not because of your soft blows. The last thing he meant to do was make you cry, and it’s something he wishes to never see again. His large hands come up to cup your face, fingers delicately wiping your tears. “I know I should’ve kept my promise, and I’m sorry. Just please don’t cry anymore.”

You let out a quiet whimper at his tenderness. His eyes are full of so much remorse and concern that it makes any remaining willpower you have left disappear. It feels right to bury yourself in his chest and let yourself be held by him. He caresses your back, and you can’t hate that it actually makes you feel better.

Once you’ve calmed down, you pull back and smack Wonwoo’s beefy chest again. “Asshole.”

“Your asshole.” His haze is tender as he cradles your tearstained cheek in his hand.

You scowl at him, but it’s quickly wiped off your face when he places a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth. A sudden desire consumes you when you see Wonwoo’s affectionate gaze. This time you let yourself be driven by your desire and press your lips against his.

It’s easy for him to melt into the kiss. Wonwoo sighs into your mouth as one of his hands comes up to cup your face. His rings feel cool against your warm skin, and you let out a quiet moan when his other hand slips into the back pocket of your jeans and squeezes your ass while pulling you closer to him.

The kiss is slow at first until your hands smooth over Wonwoo’s chest and fist his shirt to pull him closer. You part your lips to allow his tongue to slip into your mouth. It feels like you got struck by a bolt of electricity the longer his lips are on yours. His desire and hunger are evident in his needy movement, and you absolutely love it.

When you two finally pull away, you’re left breathless. Wonwoo’s thumb gently caresses your cheek as his heart pounds harshly in his chest. “Stay the night with me, babydoll.”

“M’kay.” You breathe out, mind still swimming.

The smile he gives you is so pretty that it makes something inside you burn with ardent desire. You feel like you’re floating on air when Wonwoo hands you a spare helmet that happens to be your favorite color. He looks bashful as he waits for you to accept it, and you wish you could take a picture of his pretty blush.

In spite of all the reasons you have not to take the helmet from him, you still do. And you don’t regret it.

You’ve never allowed yourself to regret the things that you’ve done because life is too short for regrets. But you definitely regret avoiding Wonwoo as long as you have, especially with the way he’s trailing his lips along your legs. Every wet kiss he leaves behind has your heart hammering and your cunt clenching in want.

Finally, Wonwoo gets to your inner thighs. His large hands spread you open with ease, eyes dark when he sees your wet pussy.

“Fuck.” His gaze fixed between your legs as if he's in a trance. “You’re already so wet.”

Your toes curl when his breath ghosts over your cunt. It sends delicious shivers throughout your body, and you have to stop yourself from bucking your hips into his face. But as you’re starting to learn, it seems like Wonwoo knows what you want before you even ask for it.

“You want my mouth, babydoll?”

Wonwoo nearly blows his load when you nod cutely, a needy mewl escaping your lips. “Please.”

He hooks your legs over his wide shoulders, thumbs spreading your folds open for his viewing pleasure. Wonwoo resists his ravenous desire for you long enough to toy with your pretty pussy before he actually tastes it—a luxury he hadn’t gotten to do last time. His rough hands are soon occupied with you, one hand pinching and flicking your sensitive clit while the other gently rubs your slippery folds.

“Fuck, baby.” You whine, biting down on your lower lip. “Feels so good.”

Your cunt is dripping with so much of your arousal that Wonwoo’s fingers are drenched as he slowly rubs circles against your aching bud. It’s throbbing and pulsing in need as his pace grows the tiniest bit quicker. You can’t even try to contain your moans as you stare down at your boyfriend.

Wonwoo has a huge smirk on his pink lips. You’re making such a mess on his fingers, and he just loves it. “You look so fucking cute when your squirm like this, babydoll.”

A needy whimper tumbles past your lips when he presses a gentle kiss to your throbbing clit. It pulses under the attention like it wants his mouth again. Wonwoo’s pupils are blown wide as he licks the remnants of your arousal off his lips. The addicting taste makes his control snap, and in the next second he smashes his face into your cunt like a starved man.

Your hips start move on their own as Wonwoo groans deeply into your drooling pussy. His mouth latches onto your clit, massaging the nub with his tongue. The movements are skilled and toe-curling, and you already feel like you’re fucked out.

“Wonwoo!” You cry out in absolute pleasure when he slips two fingers inside you.

His long fingers work your cunt open, curling up to rub the sensitive spot inside you that made you arch your back in ecstasy. Your mouth is dropped open in a silent min the longer Wonwoo fucks you with his tongue. He captures your juices with his tongue only to slobber them all over you again. Your hands grab ahold of his hair as he keeps moaning into your wet pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine with every one of his movements.

All it takes his his nose bumping against your clit as he licks around his pumping digits for you to come all over his face. Wonwoo groans into your creamy cunt, licking up every drop of your release.

“So fucking messy.” He grunts as his hand spreads your folds and exposes your heat to the cool air. His fingers trail down your cunt, tenderly rubbing along your sensitive lips. “Fuck, just look at that cream."

You can’t contain your needy moan when Wonwoo brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. He’s so fucking hot that you just want him to fuck you until you can’t think. Before you can get him to do exactly that, a heavy weight settles on your soppy cunt. His cock is hot and wet as it slides between your folds.

“You feel so good, angel.” Wonwoo groans as he thrusts forward, coating the underside of his dick with your arousal. “So fucking wet, just for me.”

The mouthwatering sight of your folds splitting open as he slides his cock between them makes him feel like he’s drunk. Maybe he is. Drunk on your pussy, that is. He only gets to enjoy the feeling for a second before you eagerly buck your hips against his.

“Let me ride you.”

It’s a miracle that Wonwoo doesn’t come all over your stomach at the words you moaned so desperately. He’s quick to get into position, leaning against his headboard as you hover above him. You look so eager as you straddle his lap, the love bites he littered all over your thighs giving him a sense of pride as he brushes his thumbs over them.

Wonwoo’s free hand reaches for your ass. He roughly kneads the skin before slapping it. You moan out in pleasure. Everything is almost too much for you to handle. The sight of him bellow you waiting patiently for you to fuck him like the first time is making your core throb with insatiable desire. His cock rests on his stomach, leaking with precum and waiting for you to sit on it.

The hottest part of it all is how Wonwoo’s looking at you with unadulterated desire and affection—like you’re a living goddess on top of him. Your hands are splayed over his muscular chest, and he just loves the feeling of them smoothing over his hot skin.

His hands move on their own, caressing your hips and mapping out every inch of your body with his rough hands. Wonwoo kisses any part of you he can reach, lips trailing from your neck down to your collarbones. His large hands slip back to your ass to deliver a sharp spank which makes you fall forward. Wonwoo skillfully captures one of your tits in his mouth, tongue immediately gliding over your hardened nipple.

“Nonu!” You cry out as your arms hook over his shoulders to keep him close, softly moaning as he switches between your tits, warm tongue swirling around each erect nub.

The cute little nickname makes his cock twitch. Fuck. You were going to drive him completely insane.

He gently nips at your sensitive bud before pulling away to look up at you. “You look so fucking pretty on top of me, babydoll.” He murmurs, forcing himself to stay still as you shift against his leaking tip.

His sweet praise is enough to make your pussy flutter. You mewl as he teasingly circles his cock against your pussy. The insistent nudges from his leaking head are making your head swim with pleasure. You’re so soaked at this point that he can feel your arousal start to stick to his skin.

Finally, you can’t resist any longer and slowly sink down on his cock. Your tight walls stretch wide, welcoming the bulbous head with just a bit of resistance. It’s been almost two weeks, and you’d already forgotten it felt to have such big and thick dick inside you. His cock isn’t even halfway inside yet, and you can nearly feel him in your stomach.

You sit back and slowly circle your hips, throwing your head back with a moan when his twitching tip nudges your walls repeatedly. Wonwoo feels like he’s gone and died to heaven with the filthy show you’re giving him of your soppy cunt. He curses quietly at the sight of your tight cunt clinging to his fat tip, nearly blowing his load at the erotic sight.

“Show me what you can do, pretty girl.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. With a wanton moan and your hands braced behind you, you slide all the way down. You whimper at the stretch, loving the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open. Mewls flutter from your lips, and it feels like the oxygen is slowly being forced out of your lungs.

Once he’s fully inside you, Wonwoo is sure that he’s never going to feel as good as he does now. His head is thrown back and his eyes roll to the back of his head. The feeling of your hot cunt wrapped around him is absolute heaven. You share in his feeling as you moan loudly, completely full and stretched out as he grips your ass to steady you on his dick.

Wonwoo can’t stop looking at the fucked out look on your face while you’re busy staring down at where your pussy and his cock meet. You don’t notice how his pupils are blown out with lust at the sight of you impaled on his cock. His heart fluttering in his chest because fuck, you’re like a literal goddess on top of him.

“Shit, babydoll. You gotta move.” He sounds out of breath, almost needy with his plea.

Wonwoo looks so fucked out and pretty that your pussy tightens around him at the hot sight. That's all it takes for you to give him what he wants. You lift your hips before slamming your ass back down. His cock reaches so deep inside you that you throw you head back with a loud cry. It makes you ravenous, and you eagerly repeat your movements until your practically bouncing on his cock.

You lean towards him and wrap your arms around his neck, your pace faltering a bit when your lips meet his neck. As you litter his skin with wet kisses and gentle bites, you feel his cock throb and twitch inside you. It makes you think that you might actually get him to come first this time.

At least, until Wonwoo commits the tender act of pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder, removing a hand from your ass to gently thumb at your clit.

“Fuck, Nonu.” You whimper at the stimulation. “You’re so deep.”

“Missed having you on my cock, babydoll. You look so fucking pretty being split open like this.” His fingers trace your stretched hole before they slap your clit.

You moan wantonly when Wonwoo suddenly thrusts up, going impossibly deeper. That’s when you know he's about to ruin you in the way you’ve been craving. You shove your face into his neck, sucking and biting his skin so he can move you on his cock in the way he wants. Apparently, this isn’t enough for him, though.

Wonwoo grips your face, pressing his fingers into your cheeks. “Need to see your pretty face while I fuck you stupid.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s gripping your ass and grinding you on his cock. His fingertips press into your soft flesh as he lifts you and brings you down his length. You start bouncing to meeting his pumps. Broken mewls contrast with Wonwoo’s groans and mix in the the sound of lewd squelching and skin slapping. His abs tighten every time you come back down, thighs flexing beneath your ass.

Your swollen clit rubs against his pelvis with every thrust, and the feeling is quickly driving you insane. The knot in your stomach is coming undone fast, much faster than you want, but you feel too good to stop. Wonwoo isn’t doing much better. His mind is only full of you and the way your hot cunt is gripping his cock. The carnal look in his eye is locked to where you’re connected. He’s mesmerized with strings of arousal connecting his skin to your dripping folds.

“You look so fucking pretty when you’re bouncing on my cock—just like last time. Gonna let me pump your pretty pussy full again, babydoll?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You cry out mindlessly, a delicious ache blooming in your core. “Whatever you want!”

You can’t believe Wonwoo has the audacity to blush like you two aren’t literally fucking like animals. It makes you gush around him, orgasm so close that you can feel it in every inch of your body.

“God, baby. Keep fucking yourself stupid on my dick.” He growls as he fucks up into you harder, needing to see you come undone on his cock.

The leaking tip of his cock brushes against your sweet spot over and over again until your eyes gloss over like you’re on the brink of tears. Wonwoo will never get enough of that fucked out face of yours, and it drives that insatiable desire in him to fuck you impossibly harder.

It takes only a few more deep thrusts for you to come on his cock with a loud moan. Your body shudders and shakes against him in absolute pleasure. Wonwoo’s movements don't stop. He fucks you through your orgasm and straight into overstimulation. But you can’t really care because it feels so fucking good. All you can do is cry out his name until he’s emptying his balls inside you.

“Y/N!” He groans into your ear as he pumps you full of his hot cum, thick ropes filling you to the brim until it’s leaking out and coating his heavy sack.

You’re gently grinding into each other as your mouths meet for a messy kiss. Wonwoo’s still-hard cock keeps twitching inside you, and you can’t help but groan into his mouth at the feeling.

“More.” You plead against his lips. “Want you to keep stuffing me full of your cum.”

“Fuck, angel.” Wonwoo pants out. “You’ll be the death of me.”

But if this was death, he’d gladly embrace it every time.

Wonwoo moves down the bed until his back meets the messy sheets. With his hands secured on your waist and the back of your neck, he pulls you down to his chest and forces you to take every inch of his throbbing cock. At this angle, he feels even thicker. Your mind goes blank as his fat dick spears into your tight hole relentlessly.

Wet noises fill the room, dancing in the air with your wanton cries. A white ring forms at the base of his cock, smearing down to his loaded sack. Wonwoo moans along with you, large hands sliding down your body to grip fistfuls of your ass. You let out a broken gasp when he grinds up and pulls you down, stuffing you to the brim only to do it again and again.

You’re panting and whimpering as his cock sinks in deep, plugging your dripping cunt. Tingles of ecstasy course through your quivering body with ever snap of his hips. You aren’t even moving anymore, it’s all Wonwoo. He’s fucking you on his cock like you're his personal fucktoy. The more you think about it like that, the more turned on you’re getting.

Your hot cunt tightens around his veiny cock. The drag of his veiny length stretching you out makes more of your juices coat his dick and spill down to his heavy balls. Wonwoo shudders when he feels how tight you keep getting. He can feel his own high quickly approaching.

“You gonna come for me again, babydoll? Soak my cock with your cream and make a mess all over me?” Wonwoo changes the angle of his hips as he speaks his lewd words. The tip of his cock slams into the soft spot inside you that makes you scream in pleasure. He keeps pounding into you from below without stopping, and you love every second of it.

“Fucking love your cock.” You babble mindlessly, any and every thought that’s not about the fat cock splitting you open being fucked out of you.

“Sweet little cunt is all mine now.” Wonwoo growls possessively. “Gonna be mine forever, right, baby?”

It’s all too much. His filthy yet sweet words combined with his fierce thrusts make you fall over that edge and into your orgasm, this one more powerful than the last. Your body erupts in flames as you squirt all over Wonwoo’s aching cock. He keeps you locked on his dick, balls slapping against your ass as he continues to pound into your gushing cunt.

“So fucking good.” Wonwoo groans gutturally before his hot cum floods your ruined cunt, painting your stretched out walls and claiming you in every sense of the word.

So much of his cum spills out and trickles down his pulsing cock, and you whimper when Wonwoo fucks it deeper into your pussy. You’re both sweaty and sticky, yet there’s still a burning ache in your core that seems like it can only be soothes by Wonwoo and his big cock.

“Want it again.” You moan into his ear, clenching down on his twitching dick. “Please.”

This is where you learn that the resident bad boy can never tell you no.

You barely process him flipping you over and manhandling you into the position he wants. Wonwoo presses your legs against your chest and start to pound into you with rough thrusts. He’s slow but brutish, slamming against your cervix every time he pushes in. Your cream soaks his thick cock and your inner thighs. It slowly drips down to your ass where his heavy balls slap against the tender skin.

“Fuck, babydoll. I’ll never get enough of this tight little pussy.” He sounds so gone, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust.

You cry out each time, the pleasure blooming into that delicious feeling in your stomach. Wonwoo’s words have you clenching around his dick, and he lets out a deep groan. He keeps moaning out praises about how good you are for him, but it’s hard to focus on his words when his thick cock is pummeling into you relentlessly.

You continuously gush around Wonwoo’s cock on the brink of yet another orgasm as you leave a stain around the base. Your pussy is stretched beyond belief, and it feels so fucking good that’s it’s making you delirious.

“I’m gonna have to stuff this pretty pussy full every day.” Wonwoo moans, loving how your cunt keeps spasming around his throbbing cock. He’s fantasised about this for so long, and now that he’s had you he’s completely addicted to you.

“Fuh-Fuck!” You wail, soaking his cock even more at his promise, leaving it dripping.

Wonwoo’s thrusts grow more powerful and ravenous. The pretty sounds you’re letting out every time he drives in and out of you is driving him insane. It’s not long for the harsh snapping of his hips to finally send you into your climax. This one is more somehow more intense than your previous one. Wonwoo groans loudly, watching as you squirt all over his cock.

Each time Wonwoo strokes your g-spot, another gush of liquid spurts from your core. “You’re so fucking hot, angel. Making a mess all over my cock.”

“Come inside me.” You beg with a loud moan, mind already so far gone to think about anything else but being fucked full of his hot cum.

Your lewd plea only drives his desire for you. Wonwoo feels his orgasm approaching with every rough thrust. His balls are aching to be emptied again, and he doesn’t hesitate to chase that euphoric feeling. Your pussy is practically begging him to fill you up with his seed, and he does exactly that. With one final shove, he bottoms out inside you and stills, cock twitching and throbbing in your hot cunt.

A huge load of cum pours into you, coating your walls and taking up the minimal space his cock hasn’t covered. Wonwoo slowly fucks it into you until you’re both whimpering from the overstimulation.

When he pulls out, his cum and your cream slowly leak out of your messy cunt. The fucked out pants you’re letting out are quickly stifled by Wonwoo's lips. You moan into his mouth as he slowly lets go of your legs and hooks them around his hips.

Pulling away, you barely register as he starts to tenderly kiss all over your body. You’re completely sated and too gone to acknowledge your surroundings even as Wonwoo gets up and brings back a warm towel. He gently cleans you up, whispering sweet praises that make you feel a different type of euphoria.

“Hold me, Nonu.” You finally manage to say when you realize he’s done cleaning the both of you up.

His smile is so pretty and precious as he goes to lay with you. The way he cradles you against his chest is comforting, and you know that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo

#svthub #wonwoo smut #svt smut #wonwoo x reader #svt x reader #seventeen smut #wonwoo fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fic #svt fic #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #wonwoo imagines

[vsimp]

bitter

pairing: kamisato ayato x f!reader

wc: 3k

genre: angst

summary: where you are in an arranged marriage with him and you rarely ever see him

warning: somewhat traditional housewife roles, negative thoughts

What a cruel fate it was, to fall in love with a man who neither loves or hates you.

To spend long, cold nights alone. A large, indifferent room divided by two separate futons.

You knew that your husband was a busy man. He worked all night, barely resting during the day, and every time you’ve caught glimpse of his office, there was always a huge mess laying around on his desk. But having been married to him for such a long time, you felt that the distance between you two grew longer and longer every day.

In the morning, you would greet him with the biggest smile you could muster. He would greet you back with the same gentle smile everyday. At this point, you knew what his real smile looked like. You don’t recall when the last time he’s ever given you one.

If Miss Ayaka and Thoma were busy, and you dined alone with your husband, the table would be silent. You didn’t know what to say, and he’d also be reading over papers while eating, so you were afraid to disturb him. If the two were present, or if there were any other guests, Ayato would be more active in the conversation, joking lightheartedly and appearing like he was actually enjoying himself.

This man did not treat you unkindly despite having these feelings that lurked in your chest. In fact, it was the opposite. He was a true gentleman every time you interacted with him. He would open the door for you while you two walked together. He would pull out the chair when you wanted to sit. He would hold your hand and escort you to any event, or if you were getting on/off a carriage.

But it was all superficial. It felt like he was forcing himself to do these actions for you. You couldn’t even tell what his intentions are for doing so. You couldn’t tell if he just disliked you, disliked this arranged marriage, or if he just wanted people to see what a loving husband he was, that everything was okay right now even though it really wasn’t.

From touchless nights to meaningless small talk, your heart ached at the thought of everything. You don’t ever recall the last time he’s kissed you on the lips in private. You don’t recall the last time he’s ever opened up to you about the depths of his heart, from the things that scared him the most, to the things that has made him truly happy.

And while you know that a relationship thrives off of communication, you couldn’t help but feel scared. You were scared that the man in front of you would grow even colder, shutting off the depths of his heart forever, pushing you away if you were to ever confront him. Maybe he’d even take it to an extreme and call off the marriage with you, telling you that he never loved you, as this was really only an arrangement between your two families. Maybe he was in love with someone else prior to this marriage, and he has only reserved his heart for them all of these years.

You have seen his darker sides. He doesn’t think that anyone has noticed, but you have. You were always watching him, after all.

A more mischievous side of him existed deep down in there, a certain sly foxiness that could even rival Guuji Yae herself. Sometimes, it would scare you to see that forced smile on his face as if what lingered in his mind were true thoughts darker than what he had initially led on.

But despite his flaws, despite the mask he constantly wore around, you loved him. You loved him so much it hurt. You loved how he cared for people despite them being complete strangers to him. You loved his gentle smile as he holds your hand so tenderly when you accidentally trip. How could a man be so kind, yet so cruel to your heart?

And even as you laid in bed most nights alone, shedding tears as if you were the dark side of the crystal moon longing for the light of the sun, you still loved him regardless.

You were in your futon all alone as of this moment, staring at the ceiling. The room was pitch black and silent, other than the occasional sounds of the residual droplets from the passing rain. Ayato would never let you rest in a room that was cold, so the temperature was heated comfortably, yet you couldn’t help but bundle yourself up under the covers even more.

It was cold without him. You didn’t even realize when the last time he had actually went to bed in this room you both allegedly shared.

But it didn’t matter anyways because his futon laid far away from yours.

Your own husband wouldn’t even come near you when you’re together in the same room. You didn’t know if he just wanted to be respectful as a formality between husband and wife, or if he is repulsed by being in the same vicinity as you, but it hurt regardless.

You sighed as you covered your face with the blanket, trying to get rid of these harboring thoughts. It was no use, no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop thinking about your relationship with him every single night. He is what plagues your mind at night, like a thorn lodged deep in a fingertip. It was only soon that you will be bleeding out your love for him.

How could you make a scene about all of this anyways? You've seen how hard he works. You knew that everything he did, it was for the sake of protecting his family and home. Who were you to complain about how busy he was? That was another reason why you continued to keep silent. You thought that your worries meant nothing compared to his own.

Your mind was racing a mile per minute, and you knew you weren't able to get any sleep like this. You got up and out of your futon as you decided to go for a stroll around the estate. The guards protected the outside and prevented from anybody from coming in. As long as you walked around inside, there should be no problem with you strolling the corridors, so long as you remained quiet.

Lighting up a candle, you started meandering through the halls, your footsteps nearly silent with no goal or destination in mind. You didn't even realize your feet had automatically taken you to the doors of his office, the same door that you have stared at many times, knowing that your husband was in there, but you had no reason or courage to open. You see the dimly lit light through the translucent paper sheets, and you knew that tonight was going to be another long night with no rest for him.

You sighed, not remembering the last time you had been in his office, and you were about to step away, but the door suddenly slides open rather violently. You flinch in shock because you didn’t expect for anything to happen, as he usually never notices your presence.

"Who is there?" He said in a serious tone, and you were finally greeted by the man who plagued your every thought and dreams. His hand laid on the hilt of his sword, almost as if he was ready to strike down any intruder who was lurking in the shadows. But instead of drawing his sword, he blinked a few times, realizing it was just you who stood there. He instantly let go of the sword and his expression relaxed a bit, although his eyebrows were furrowed slightly to show confusion. "Y/n? What are you doing here? It is almost 2am right now."

His presence stunned you for a second before you snapped out of the current awe-struck daze you were in. It had been quite a while since you've seen his face. He was rarely home anymore, but when he was, he would be holed up in his office. You only ever see him to greet him when he returned back home, and sometimes when he leaves, as he had a habit of sneaking out secretly every so often.

"Oh." You were flustered at this unexpected situation. "I had trouble sleeping, so I decided to go for a walk..."

"Is something troubling you?" He asked in concern. "If it is work-related with the household, then I know Ayaka would be happy to give you a hand.”

"It's not that..." You shook your head. You didn't want him to worry about you, so you tell him a small lie. "It's just one of those nights..."

"I see."

"Have you been faring well?" You then asked him.

He gave you a small, gentle smile, but you have seen this many times. It was one of the masks he wore when he wasn’t telling the truth.

"I've been doing alright," he replied. Anybody would've believed him, as he would never appear disheveled in front of anybody, but from the way his eyes had a slight dark tint underneath them and the mess that apparently was his desk with papers and pens strewn everywhere, you knew that he was far from so. "I was actually looking to take a break soon from my paperwork. Since you probably will be up for a little bit, would you care to join me?"

An invitation from him was rare, and you immediately jumped ship. You nodded. "Let me go prepare some tea."

"Oh, there's no need to do that."

"Nonsense," you gave him a reassuring smile, knowing what he was going to say. He was so considerate as always, not wanting to trouble you. "It will only be a few.”

You start to walk down the hall to head to the kitchen, but you were surprised to hear footsteps behind you. Before you knew it, Ayato was walking beside you, and you could hear your heart thumping in your chest.

"Ayato?" You questioned.

It was dim, as the candle was the only thing that lit the dark halls, so you can barely make out his expression.

"I'll tag along with you then." He said softly, as to not wake anybody else up. "It will be a good change of pace from being stuck in my office all night."

To you, he was so hard to read at times. If he was accompanying you, he surely must have his reasons, as he had never used any of his personal time on you before. He only accompanied you outside when he had a special meeting at an event that required for both spouses to arrive. Those were the only times when he was somewhat affectionate. That was why you were nervous when he decided to come along with you, thinking he had an ulterior motive like he usual does. But a small, small part of you hoped that it was something else; that he wanted to join you because he missed you and just wanted to idly chat.

You stepped into the kitchen and then lit a brighter lantern to illuminate the room using your own candle. But before you could do anything else, you watched as Ayato's hand pushed a portion of your hair aside. You couldn't help but feel your cheeks heat up at the action, your eyes making its way towards him now that you were able to see his face.

He wore a gentle smile on his face as he looked down at you tenderly. A rare expression indeed, you’ve only noted him to give this look to Ayaka. It made your heart hurt a little as it thumped away in your chest, feeling like you could soar to the moon and never come back.

"Your hair was getting close to the flames, so I didn't want it to burn,” he explained.

"Oh..." You didn't know what else you could say. "Thank you..."

With that, you started boiling the kettle of water, your body moving to find tea leaves. Ayato watches on without speaking a word, and you two drift into a somewhat lulling silence.

As you prepared your leaves, Ayato interrupted the silence no sooner than later.

“There’s another event that the Kanjou Commission is hosting,” he said. There it was. He needed you to attend another political event with him. You were once so naive to think that he would actually spend time with you just because he wanted to. You knew he hated small talk and would rather get straight to the point. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind attending it with me.”

Of course you didn’t mind, if it meant that you would be spending more time with him. But even if you did expect for this, you were still disappointed.

“Sure. When will it be?”

“In two months. They’re hosting a party event to discuss upcoming financial plans for the winter.”

You nodded, your hands a little rougher than usual as you crushed up the dried tea leaves in the mortar. Usually you would hide your emotions well, but it definitely showed in the way you pounded at the leaves.

If Ayato had noticed your switch in moods, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he went over to the cabinet to grab two cups for the tea.

“I appreciate it. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

Another blatant lie fueled only by courtesy. He always says this whenever you did a favor for him. If you were to truly ask for a favor, he would have Thoma somehow fulfill it, or he would say that he was too busy to do it himself, and that he would make it up later. He would send a gift, picked out by either Thoma or Ayaka of course, to later apologize for not fulfilling your promise.

And although it has only happened four or five times before you’d stop asking him for favors, knowing that he was too busy to fulfill them, it still left a bitter feeling within you.

You felt that it was selfish for you to feel this way. You knew that he had lost his parents at a young age, having to resume the role as the leader of the Yashiro Commission and head of the Kamisato Clan very early in life. You thought it wasn’t right for you to feel bitter about small things like this. Yet, as you glanced at the man in front of you, who barely looked at you and instead stared at the bright full moon outside, your heart ached at this solemn expression— one that loomed with fatigue and tiredness.

Maybe what you truly longed for was his happiness. Maybe you wanted to share that happiness with him, although you knew it would be a long shot. So long as he was the head of the Yashiro Commission, the leader of the Shuumatsuban, there will always be a distance between you two, as he prioritized things differently from any other typical person. Even though he was in the same room as you right now, as the moon peaked through the small window, the cicadas singing in the distance, he still looked as alone as ever. Like there was an unmeasurable length between you two, and you were too afraid to cross it, in fear that you would never be able to reach him.

The kettle soon starts to heat up, and you take it off the flame to start steeping the tea leaves. A few minutes of silence passed, and you wondered then if he was going to leave immediately after he finished his tea. It was still hot, so you had a couple more minutes left with him, right?

You poured the tea carefully in the cup and then proceeded to hand it over to him.

“It’s hot, so be careful.”

“Thank you,” he smiled at you and graciously accepted the tea. He picked it up to his lips, blowing it a few times as he inhaled the scent. “This smells like a different type of tea than the one you served at the event the other day.”

You remembered that event. You were attending a birthday party for an old couple who were close friends with the Kamisato’s. You brewed that tea with extra care, knowing that Ayato was going to drink it on that very occasion.

“It was truly delicious,” he complimented and you felt your heart soar at his words once more. “I know I never told you this, but it was one of my favorite hot teas.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I smiled, making note to remember that information. “This one that I brewed helps with stress and calms the mind.”

He took a sip once the tea is cooled down a bit more. “I can see how this one can have that effect. It’s a very mild, but calming flavor. It’s a good choice for you to brew this, since it will probably help you sleep.”

Actually, you had brewed it for him, so that he wouldn’t stress so much, but you held your tongue back. Instead, you took a sip of the hot tea, trying to match his pace so that you both could finish at the same time.

“I hope you like it,” you said.

“I do enjoy it quite a bit,” he replied with a small smile on his face. “I will take it to my office and savor it. I appreciate you willing to spend time with me.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

“I hope you get some sleep soon, and try not to stay awake for too long,” your husband stated. “Please pardon me, I must return to my work.”

You forced out a smile in return, knowing that he had cut his time off with you short on purpose.

“Have a good night, Ayato.”

He gave a small nod as he walked out with the tea in his hand. You waited for the door to fully shut before you leaned on the counter with your back pressed to it.

He didn't even wait to finish the tea before he left. He just went straight to the point, pushing you aside as if your feelings had never mattered to him in the first place.

Your hands gripped the ceramic tea cup tightly. It felt like if you had held it tight enough, it would shatter and break, scalding your skin like the way your husband did just now.

Your tears dripped into the tea, the salty solution messing with the delicate taste of the drink as you sipped it, not wanting anything to go to waste. What was once a calming, smooth taste was now bitter.

So, so bitter.

It was another cruel, lonely night that awaited you.

#repost from this morning because I don’t see it listed when tagged #when u just started this blog and ur already soft shadowbanned #genshin impact #genshin #Kamisato Ayato #Kamisato Ayato x reader #Kamisato Ayato x reader angst #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact angst #Ayato x reader #Ayato x reader angst #genshin angst

[daisynik7]

Rub You the Right Way

Pairing: Choso x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~4.1k

cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – oral sex (cunnilingus, fellatio), hand job, face-riding, face-fucking, use and mention of sex toys, cum eating

Summary: You've always been cordial with your shy next-door neighbor Choso. One day, you receive the package you've been expecting, finding out a little too late that it isn't your package at all; it's his. What you find inside makes you wonder that maybe your sweet and quiet neighbor has wild side, one you’re curious to see for yourself.

Author’s Notes: First Choso fic! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Consider this my unofficial return from hiatus. Enjoy! Divider by the wonderful and super talented @/cafekitsune!

part 7 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

The trek home from the office is especially grueling today. Your backpack is heavy with a clunky work laptop that’s been due for an upgrade along with a pile of documents that need to be reviewed ASAP. One hand carries the dinner you bought at the station while the other hoists a heavy bag of groceries you picked up during lunch, thinking it would be productive to get as much of your errands done today before hunkering down for the weekend to do a job that doesn’t pay you enough to work overtime. 

You eventually arrive to your apartment complex, making one more necessary pit stop to the mail room. Inside, you recognize the distinct pink-hair of the boy standing in front of the lockers. He’s your next-door neighbor’s younger brother who visits from time-to-time. “Hi Yuji!” you beam at him. 

He turns to face you, eyes crinkling happily as he smiles. “Hey! How’s it going?”

You drop your bags to open your own locker. “I’m alright. Got a busy weekend working. And you?”

He kneels down towards the boxes in front of him. “Same, except studying for exams.”

“Are you picking up your brother’s packages?” It’s a well-known fact by now that Choso isn’t fond of leaving his apartment or interacting with people in general. It doesn’t bother you though; he’s a great neighbor who barely makes a peep. Never has he ever rubbed you the wrong way, despite his reclusive nature. Sometimes, through his brother, he’ll give you an offering of cookies from the batch he baked that week. On the days you’re working overtime, he’ll send Yuji to check in on you, making sure you’re not too stressed or overexerted. And on the rare occasion that the two of you meet face-to-face, either entering or leaving the apartment at the same time, your heart skips just the tiniest beat at how his face softens when you greet him with a smile. From these tiny gestures alone, you’ve determined that Choso Kamo is a sweetheart. Quiet, but most importantly, a sweetheart.

Yuji slides the stack out from Choso’s locker, answering you. “Yup. I also had some stuff delivered here, so I figured I’d just grab everything.”

You stare at the small package in your own locker, evaluating how you’re going to carry it to your room in one trip. There’s no space in any of the bags and you’re almost convinced that you can balance it on top of your head as if you actually possess the proper skills to do so (you don’t). “Need help?” Yuji chuckles. Before you answer, he grabs it, placing it on top of a box similar in size on his stack.

“Thank you so much!”

As the elevator rides to the third floor, you continue to chat casually with Yuji. The two of you walk to your neighboring rooms and when he reaches for his keys, the stack topples over, the boxes now strewn across on the hallway floor. He blushes, collecting them hastily back into a neat pile. “I’m sorry, I hope there isn’t anything fragile in there.” He quickly slides you a box, avoiding your gaze to hide his embarrassment. 

It's new office supplies you ordered for your workstation at home, so you hardly care even if there is a bit of damage done. “Don’t worry about it, it’s all good,” you assure him, using your foot to push it towards your front door. “Thank you for your help, Yuji. Tell your brother I say hi.”

“Will do. Have a good night.”

Finally home, you drop all your belongings, letting out a relieved sigh. One-by-one, you put everything away: the groceries in their appropriate places, your lukewarm dinner in the microwave, and all your work junk on the dining table, where you’ll be sat at for most of this weekend starting tomorrow. You save the package for later, planning to refill your supplies tonight so you don’t have to worry about it the next morning.

You soon find out that something even better is waiting for you inside. 

~~~

Choso is sprawled on the couch, too lazy to cook dinner. He ordered delivery from Yuji’s favorite pizza joint a few blocks away, which should be arriving any minute now, according to his calculations. When he hears the door open, he sits up, watching his brother enter with a tower of boxes in his hands. “I don’t remember ordering that much stuff,” he grumbles, standing up to help him. 

“Most of these are mine. I think only this one is yours.” Yuji passes him a small box, which Choso quickly grabs to toss into his room, hoping to avoiding any questions about it. Truth be told, the contents of that box is way too embarrassing to explain to his precious baby brother. Inside is the sex toy he recently purchased online. It’s essentially a silicone cock sleeve, open on both ends for simple clean-up, made entirely of pliable material for ease and comfort. To put it simply, it’s a fleshlight. A state-of-the-art, new and improved fleshlight, he would like to emphasize. He’s been looking forward to using it all week and once Yuji leaves tonight, he’s going to give it a proper test run until he’s a puddle in the sheets. 

It’s been a while since Choso’s been intimate with someone other than himself. A few bad breakups and past betrayals have led him to distrust most people outside of his intimate circle. The unpredictable nature of people, strangers, is frightening to him, so it’s better to avoid them completely. He has the luxury of working a job that’s fully remote, and aside from his brothers and the few colleagues he is forced to converse with periodically, it’s easy for him to remain a recluse, and he’s perfectly content with that. As for his sexual needs, he’s managed to make it this far in this drought thanks to sex toys and pornography. And while he’s aware that it’s not the most glamorous lifestyle, it works for him. 

“By the way, your neighbor says hi,” Yuji mentions, opening his packages one-by-one. “She came into the mailroom.”

Choso says your name in the form of a question to clarify, though he’s certain of the answer. The only other human contact he has outside his circle is with you, his next-door neighbor. He doesn’t leave the house much, but on the occasion he does, he always hopes it’s you he runs into. He often worries that one day, you’ll realize what a pathetic loner he is and stop showing him that gorgeous smile of yours. So far, that hasn’t happened yet, so he cherishes those tiny moments every chance he gets. Something about that smile, something about you, makes him feel good. Safe.  

“Yup,” Yuji confirms. “She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.”

Before Choso can inquire any further, there’s a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of their pizza. After thanking the delivery man, the two gather at the dining table, ready to dig into their dinner. Choso listens intently as Yuji laments on his weekly occurring university woes with a mouth full of pepperoni and sausage. As much as he adores his younger brother, he’s eager for his departure so he can have alone time to break in his new toy.

At eleven, without a crumb left of the pizza and the recycling bin filled with flattened cardboard boxes, Yuji finally announces that he’s leaving. He stuffs his newly delivered items, which includes textbooks, notepads, and a bunch of miscellaneous items, in his bag. “I’ll see you next week, bro. Take care of yourself,” he says, squeezing his big brother into a warm embrace. There’s always the smallest hint of concern in his voice whenever he leaves like this. Does he worry about him? For living a life of seclusion, constantly in fear of the outside world? Sure, it may sound lonely. In fact, it is lonely. But it’s easier to stay safe in the comfort of his own home than risk being hurt from the unknown. It’s better this way…isn’t it?

Choso muses on his brother’s parting words in the silence of his apartment for much longer than he intends to. He decides that the best way to keep him from spiraling further is a distraction, and that means fucking himself silly into temporary bliss until he knocks out for the night. Hidden away in various drawers of his bedroom are a plethora of options to choose from: vibrators, masturbators, cock rings, even the sex doll tucked deep in his closet. Tonight, however, is all about his shiny new toy. Pristine and untouched for him to ruin as much as he wants. He picks it up from the floor, ripping the tape off quickly, too impatient to inspect the exterior for any potential damage. When a stapler drops, almost hitting his feet, he stares down at it, confused. Thinking it’s a weird bonus item the sex shop has sent him, he chuckles nervously, still searching. Each item he uncovers leaves him more and more baffled: a container of paper clips, a wad of sticky notes, bundles of red pens, another fucking stapler. Finally, he checks the shipping label ripped partially from his haste, whatever color remaining on his face draining completely. 

This isn’t his. It’s yours.

Which means…

By the way, your neighbor says hi. She came into the mailroom.

She had her hands full, so I helped her carry a package.

Oh fuck. 

~~~

It’s near midnight when you’re ready to turn in for the night. You almost forget about the box sitting idly on the floor by your shoes, exactly where you left it a few hours ago. With your computer all set up for work tomorrow, you think it’s best to organize your new supplies before you actually do forget. At your desk, you open the package with a pair of scissors, excited for the new staplers you bought, a standard one and a heavy duty one. It’s surprising how neatly it’s wrapped, covered in tissue paper like some sort of gift. After removing all the extra layers, you finally get to the reveal, which renders you speechless.  

Nestled neatly amongst more delicate tissue paper, the translucent material almost luminous against the dim glow from the lamplight, is a sex toy. Call it what you want: a penis stroker, a male masturbator, a pocket pussy. There’s absolutely no doubt in your mind what is before you. A fucking fleshlight.

Besides the obvious appearance, the dead giveaway is the user manual included with it, displaying in big, bold print “The Cock Stroker 3000 – New and Improved!”. Lifting the box up to inspect the shipping label, you notice that it says Choso’s name, not yours. If you weren’t so stunned by this unexpected discovery, you’d be giggling at the absurdity of it all. Instead, you’re gawking at the lewd gadget, unsure what to do next. 

“Fuck!” 

An intense shout from the other side of the wall snaps you out of it. That’s the loudest you’ve ever heard your neighbor, and you can only assume that he has also just realized this unfortunate mix-up. There’s no way the two of you can pretend this isn’t happening. Besides, the last thing you want is for Choso to think you have a bad impression of him after this. Because you don’t, not one bit. It’s perfectly normal for people to have sex toys. In fact, it’s healthy. Even the thought of him using it on himself intrigues you. The hungry expression on his face, tongue lolling out of his mouth, those usually pale cheeks blushing a deep red. The obscene squelch of the wet silicone surrounding his engorged cock, leaking with precum. Closer and closer to the edge, ready to burst any second with your lips near the tip, ready to swallow his load…

You almost curse out loud yourself, ashamed for having such lewd thoughts about your sweet, innocent next-door neighbor. But maybe he’s not as innocent as you think.

Ultimately, you decide the best way to move forward from this is to nip it in the bud. With the opened package in your hands, you walk over to his front door, knocking three times. You hear a faint, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” from within, then hurried footsteps growing louder. Without removing the chain lock, he answers, peering at you through the narrow crack, not saying anything.

Nervous, you greet him with the best smile you can muster. “Hi Choso. I think there was a little mix-up.”

He clears his throat before mumbling a short, “Yeah.”

You glance away from him, staring at the floor, too embarrassed to meet his gaze for this next part. “I opened it without checking the label first. I’m so sorry.”

He shuts the door suddenly, startling you. There’s the distinct rattle of the chain being fiddled with and the door swings open fully, Choso towering over you, a serious expression on his face. He shows you a box, revealing all the office supplies you ordered earlier in the week. Without saying another word, you do the exchange, anticipating that this will be the end of it. 

It surprises you when he apologizes quietly, focused on the small space separating you. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He hides it behind his back, as if doing so will erase the image of it from your memory. “You must think I’m disgusting.”

You shake your head, ignoring the instinct to step closer and comfort him with a hug. The last thing you want to do is cross even more lines tonight. “I don’t, not even the slightest. It’s okay, Choso. This is totally normal and totally fine.”

“You don’t have to say that – ”

“But I mean it! I really do! There’s nothing wrong with it!” Desperate for him to believe you, you confess, “I have sex toys too, plenty of them!”

This time, he actually looks at you with a mixture of intrigue and skepticism. “You don’t have to lie for my sake.”

“I’m not lying!” you urge him. 

He retreats inside his apartment, speaking once again through the crack. “I appreciate you trying to make this better, but I think it’s best that we never speak again. Goodnight.”

With that, he shuts the door, leaving you with a lump in your throat, devastated. In your frenzied attempt to fix this, you return to your room, searching your bedside drawer for your favorite vibrator. If words aren’t enough to convince him, then maybe actual proof will. Without taking a moment to reconsider the hole you’re digging yourself deeper and deeper into, you pound on his door, the sex toy clasped in your other hand. 

When he answers, you shove it in his face, vindicated that you can prove your point with physical evidence. “See? I told you! I have toys too, so there’s nothing for you to be ashamed about.”

He squints at the vibrator squeezed in your fist as if inspecting it like a foreign object. “That’s it?”

You glare at him, offended by his response. “What do you mean?”

He tilts his head to examine it at another angle. “There’s only one button.”

“One button is all I need,” you argue, defensive about your favorite being criticized. “Sure, it’s small, but that’s what I like about it. It fits comfortably in my hand and with just a single push of the button, I can experience three different levels of intensity. What more do I need?!” 

He smirks, amused at your rambling. “I just don’t see how something this simple can be useful, that’s all.”  It’s the closest to a smile you’ve seen from him; it has your belly fluttering. 

You hold back a laugh. “I bet it packs more of a punch than that Cock Sucker 2000 or whatever.”

“3000,” he corrects, grinning, causing your heart to race. “I haven’t tried it yet, but it’s the best on the market right now.” He hesitates, his next words coming out of his mouth slowly, testing the waters. “Maybe you can show me what your little toy can do. Prove me wrong.”

You never expected this from him, but that’s what makes this exciting. All you can think of in this moment is showing him just how wet you can get. “Fine,” you agree, stepping towards him. “But only if you show me what your little toy can do, too.”

~~~

Never in a million years did Choso predict that this would be the outcome of your bizarre mix-up. You, his next-door neighbor, on his bed, naked from the waist down. Your t-shirt riding up your stomach with your legs split apart, the cute vibrator you love so much pressed to your clit. He kneels in front of you, too transfixed at the erotic sight before him to give attention to the erection strained in his sweatpants. 

“You’re next,” you say, glancing at his lap.

He nods, all the confidence he had just a few minutes ago when he initially proposed this idea thrown out the window. Now, he’s back to being his nervous self, afraid to be vulnerable with someone he barely knows. 

You set the vibrator beside you, closing your legs. “Are you okay?”

He’s frozen, tempted to call the whole thing off. Go back to being neighbors and nothing more. Go back to being lonely Choso and pathetic Choso, who’s scared of everyone and everything  and – 

“Hey.” It’s only now he realizes that the two of you are face-to-face, foreheads pressed, noses touching. Your voice is gentle, your palms soft on his cheeks. You smile at him, full of warmth and compassion. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone,” he admits. “I’m nervous.” A myriad of what-ifs play out in his head. What if he’s bad? What if you don’t like it? What if this ruins whatever sliver of hope the two of you have at being friends? At being anything more? 

“We’ll go slow then,” you assure him, brushing your lips to his. That genuine smile of yours is enough to convince him that it’s worth the risk. That, and how fucking good it feels to have your mouth on his. He closes his eyes, leaning into the kiss, relishing the warmth of your breath. He finds himself gradually losing control of his inhibitions, his carnal instincts taking over, hungry for more of you. He slips his tongue inside, swirling around yours, kisses growing frantic and sloppy. You tug at the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you. His heart pounds in his chest as he roams your body, fingers grazing your perked nipples from outside your top. You whisper his name, so luscious and sweet in your voice. He’d be lying if he said he’s never imagined it before. How you’d sound whimpering from his touch. How you’d feel between his massive hands. How you’d look with his cock filling you up to the brim.

He can’t stand it anymore. He’s aching, begging for release from the confines of his pants. Quickly, he removes them, freeing his throbbing erection. You gasp, marveling at the size of it. “Oh fuck, Choso. You’re so big.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, fumbling for the Cock Sucker 3000 beside him. He slathers a generous amount of lube on his shaft and inside the toy. Foreheads pressed together once more, you both focus on his lap, watching it sink smoothly down his dick. The coldness of the lube and rubbery flexibility of the silicone surrounding him is familiar, though having someone spectate makes this all the more titillating. 

“Fuck,” you swear, amazed at how it covers his entire length. You ogle at him as he starts slowly, eventually increasing to a steady pace. Your pussy flutters, incredibly aroused to see this man pumping his cock in front of you. For you.  

“Do it with me.” His gaze flickers to the vibrator beside you. “You should feel good too.”

You spread your legs, displaying your cunt to him, already sopping wet with arousal. His eyes follow your every move as you tease the tip slowly up and down your pussy lips. Finding the right spot on your clit, you place your finger on the button of the toy, bracing yourself for what’s to come. As soon as you press it, the vibrations from level one alone are enough to send you wild. Knees shaking, feet flexing, moans pouring out of your open mouth. He continues to watch you, restraining his grunts as he strokes himself faster. Desperate for more, you click the button twice, increasing the vibrations to the max level. Within seconds, you’re coming, back arched and head thrown into the pillows behind you. Tossing the vibrator aside, you stare up at the ceiling, dizzy and disoriented from your ecstatic high, pussy shiny with your orgasm. Choso’s voice is so faint, you don’t understand him at first. You sit up to face him, waiting for him to repeat himself. 

“Can you ride my face?” he asks meekly. 

More than willing to accept his request, you nod in response, grinning. His expression relaxes and when you lean nearer to him, palm pressed flat on his chest, he even cracks a smile as he’s lies down on the bed, eager to have you like this. You straddle him, facing away from the headboard while his head rests at the foot of the bed. Carefully, you lower yourself until his mouth is pressed to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit slowly and he releases his grip from his toy to hold onto your ass, squeezing the soft flesh firmly. You don’t take your eyes off each other as you rub yourself across his face, his mouth open, swallowing every drop of you. When you reach your second orgasm, you’re practically bouncing on him as he smothers himself deeper, humming in satisfaction as he sucks hard on your clit, flicking it with his tongue. 

You lift yourself off him, spent and completely wrecked. Still, you want to touch him, treat him as well as he treated you, make him come as hard as you did. You position yourself between his thighs, admiring the silicone sleeve hugging his dick. “Your turn.”

Sitting up on his elbows, he watches as you grab hold of the toy, stroking him with it. He moans, tongue hanging of his mouth, drool leaking from the corners of his lips, eyes half-lidded. His moans turn into whimpers when you start cradling his balls with your other hand, his body twitching from the sensation. The tip peeks out from the other end, a thick wad of precum collecting at the slit, so enticing that you’re salivating for a taste.

“Your mouth,” he stammers, barely able to speak.

“What?” you ask breathily, inching closer and closer. 

“Want your mouth.” He swallows hard, voice trembling. “Please.”

Excited, you remove the toy from him, in awe at the way his fat cock flops heavily against his abdomen. You take him in your fist, loving how hot and throbbing he is in your grip. He’s coated in lube and precum, so slippery with your fingers wrapped around his girth. Unable to resist any longer, you bow your head, licking the pearl off the tip, savoring the taste. He shudders, letting out a loud, “Fuck!” 

It’s so much better than a toy. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him is better than any masturbator, fleshlight, pocket pussy, whatever silly contraption he uses to get by. The swirl of your tongue gliding along the shaft, the vibrations of your moans as you take him all the way to the back of your throat, the view of your pretty head bobbing up and down his lap. Nothing in his collection compares to this. This is real. You are real. 

He fucks your throat, unable to resist bucking his hips against you, timing his thrusts to meet yours. It doesn’t take much longer for him to be pushed over the edge. You pull off for a brief moment to smile at him, pumping him fast. “Come for me, Choso. Come in my mouth.”

At this, he completely loses himself, muffling his incessant moans into his forearm, too shy to watch you guzzle down his entire load until he’s milked of every last drop. You scatter delicate kisses along the entire length of him, even down to his balls. Too sensitive now, he pats you gently on the head, making you look up at him, a warm smile on your face. He smiles back, caressing your cheek, thumb grazing your soft skin. You lie beside him, nuzzling into his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow to a steady, relaxed pace. He slides his arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.”

This world is a terrifying place for Choso Kamo. But with you in his arms, he feels a bit braver. He’s safe with you. 

#choso kamo #choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #choso jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #kamo choso x reader #kamo choso smut #kamo choso x you

[ncteez]

oh no, he's in love? (k.m.g)

Mingyu knew that sleeping with you was a bad idea, especially when he learns that you’re now dating his son, Chan. He pulls himself back into reality and moves on from the situation, allowing the two of you to end the small fling without suspicion, or rather, he tries.  or the one where your re-established crush and now boyfriend, chan, finds out that his dad knows you better than he does.

― part one here! 

ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give mingyu a boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 15.1k

PAIRING― dilf!mingyu x afab reader  | chan x afab reader

CONTENT―  angst, there is no daddy kink nor is there sub/dom dynamics involved with this fic, mingyu is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s. 

SIDE CHARACTERS― chan as mingyu’s son, jihoon as chan’s ride home when ur mad at him

WARNINGS― borderline cheating, alcohol abuse, morally gray choices need to be made, chan disowns mingyu, reader can be lifted and carried by mingyu.

NOTE― *runs away very very fast, so fast that no one can catch me and make me face the trials of what this fic may have done to some of you* not proofread because hahahaha nope. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags :: pussy drunk mingyu, reader is almost entirely silent through the smut but you’ll get why, pussy devouring, kitchen counter sex, couch sex, missionary, eye contact, making out, finger fucking, cream pie/unprotected sex

~

You keep running through explanations in your head, more for yourself than anyone else. When you pushed that crush you had on Chan away, it was clearly because you were horny and he wasn’t picking up the hints. The crush never actually died, your interest just skewed to someone who appeared more ready to pleasure you when you needed it the most. The fact that it happened to have been Chan’s dad? Well, we just won’t talk about how that factors into it.

The explanation of an insatiable “horny level” high enough to fuck Mingyu? It manages to calm you down each time you’re actually with Chan. He’s entirely unaware of what happened between you and his father and you’d prefer to keep it that way, which is why you haven’t seen Mingyu in over a month, and why you avoid seeing him any further. 

After that first night with Mingyu, you saw him a few times after and continued your little fling with him until Chan made himself more prominent in your life, more so than he already was. He made his feelings clear, he stepped up, he started hanging out with you one on one rather than consistently inviting you to parties with him. It was easy to fall back into your original mindstate about him especially without the alcohol being involved. Wanting to hold his hand, wanting to kiss him, wanting to touch him. He stepped up and asked you to be his girlfriend about a week after you stopped seeing Mingyu all together. You expected to be asked, in all fairness, so it was the right thing to do. 

Mingyu never texted you nor did he ever call even before you stopped seeing him, he always just responded. You were thankful for that, despite remembering how you laid with him in his bed the last night you spent with him, wondering if that feeling in your stomach was something deeper than arousal. Small secretive hopes that those small words of “I never want to assume, that’s why I don’t text first.” with an even smaller explanation of “It’s not because I don’t want you.” would become something more. 

Still, those budding hopes don’t matter now, as Chan continues to make himself the center of your love life. There is something on your mind that bothers you though. The fact that there could be a future together with Chan and knowing that you can’t avoid Mingyu forever. 

God, you’re so right about that issue too, because of course Chan is happily texting you as the semester comes to an end. Of course he’s setting up dinner with his dad and inviting you to meet him properly for the first time. 

You: chan, i’ve met your dad a billion times

Chan: yeah but not as my girlfriend! 

You: fair but, i’ve already met him lol, i’d rather we just hang out without parents around

Your brain pounds at the idea of pretending you haven’t met Mingyu on levels deeper than you should have. It also pounds at the idea of seeing Mingyu’s reaction to you doing what you’re doing. He must think so lowly of you, to fuck him and still be brave enough to enter into a relationship with his son? You’re sure he already knows you’re dating him, but like, you’d rather not see him see it? 

Chan: babe come on, i wanna do coupley things with you! just pretend you’ve never met him, plus he seemed cool with the idea and even said he can make up my old room if we wanted to sleep over. 

The pit in your stomach grows at the very idea that you’ve never been in Chan’s old room before, but you’d been in Mingyu’s many times. Enough to remember the creak of the boards just at the base of his bedroom door, enough to know where he hangs his jacket outside of the closet, and which side of his bed he tends to sleep on the most. 

Unfortunately, and with a world of reluctance, you know you can’t avoid Mingyu forever. The thought alone that he already knows drives the bubbles in your stomach up to your throat, leaving a bad taste in your mouth as you give in to your boyfriend. Chan, the one you chose, and the one you know you will continue to choose. 

You: alright, alright. what should i wear?

Chan: can you wear that one skirt 

You: NO

~

Now, after a long night of overthinking and trying to come up with an excuse to not see Mingyu again, you’re sitting on your bed wearing the exact skirt Chan wants you to wear, waiting for him to pick you up and drive you to the most awkward situation that could ever happen to you.

You’re really hoping he doesn’t opt to sleep there and expect you to be beside him. Something inside tells you that he’d be able to smell the weakness on you, or the nervousness around his father. After all, Chan is more mindful than you gave him credit for originally. Only having learned this through his never-ending string of apologies of never reciprocating your hints previously. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he had said, he just wasn’t sure if he was ready at the time. 

That was, until he noted how you kind of backed off. He didn’t want to fumble a girl like you, and so, he leaped further than any man ever had done with you. Mindful, he is. Of himself, of you, hopefully not of anything else though. You’d really rather he not take note of any lingering memories in his childhood home regarding your naked body pressed against whatever surface Mingyu has had you against.

Trying to act like Mingyu hasn’t had you pressed against the washer in the laundry room is harder than you thought it would be. Trying to pretend you haven’t touched him, or kissed him, or made him moan is insanely difficult to do. Those images and sounds were burned into your mind the moment it happened, and even now, when you get intimate with Chan, you find yourself finding the differences between the two. Which is….not good.

For instance, Mingyu is bigger. All around, he loomed and could do absolutely anything he wanted to you, but he was polite and never took advantage of his size or age. He was gentle and kind, even when his deep thrusts hurt. He always kissed you when you winced, always told you to hold onto him, and always thanked you for taking him so well. 

Chan, on the other hand is–a good size of course, not as thick or as long as Mingyu, body stature not nearly as big either but, the sex is hot, messy, clumsy even. 

He’s cheeky and selfish for his pleasure, but so are you, so the dynamic is something that turns you on beyond belief. Having someone so eager to touch you felt amazing. Chan never quite knew where he wanted his lips, tongue, or fingers first and it always feels so good to let him determine that himself. 

 The first time you finally had him between your legs, you could argue that he gave you some of the best head you’d ever had. Until you remembered how Mingyu did it. How desperate someone twice your size and age was for you to get on his face, how ready he was to make you feel good even while neglecting himself. Chan doesn’t do that, he likes to hold you down when you squirm, and he certainly doesn’t allow himself to be neglected for too long.

Both of them fuck so differently, and both of them fuck exactly how you want them to. Or, wanted them to, if you’re talking about Mingyu. It’s just, you only know of the love from Chan and the presumed fantasy of what you think Mingyu’s love would feel like. 

As you sit here, comfortable and pleased with your current sex life, you can’t help but miss the way you were held by Mingyu. His big arms felt so safe, even when you weren’t in any position to feel unsafe. You can’t compare the two, truly, but you still try. Internally wondering which is better despite already making the choice of being Chan’s girlfriend. 

Naturally though, you cannot live your life through sexual hopes and dreams like this when you’ve got Chan right here, giving his all to you. So, you let it rest, even when the thoughts flood your mind. 

The memories and thoughts of Mingyu will die as the days pass, right? As you and Chan establish a good foundation, and eventually fall into something more serious than just a mid-college relationship, right? There’s no harm in remembering fondly until that happens, right?

Right, well. You still have to officially meet Mingyu again, so. 

Even now, as you’re with Chan and pulling into his father’s driveway, your brain finds itself reverting back to how Mingyu used to open the door for you when you were alone. Always that little smirk, always a tight and warm hug before it immediately turned to minty fresh kisses deepening by the second.

When he opens the door this time, he appears to be nothing but a doting father. One who doesn’t have desperate arousal pressing against his jeans when he looks at you. It’s a reminder that he isn’t opening this door for you alone this time. He’s not inviting you in to put those broad hands on your thighs to spread your legs open for him. No, he’s inviting you in for fucking dinner with your boyfriend. His son. 

He doesn’t appear to be bothered though, nor does his eyes linger like they used to. He greets you the same way he greets Chan, only glancing at your hand in his son’s grasp for a moment before offering the two of you a smile.

“It’s about time I got to officially meet her.” Mingyu calls out with a chipper tone, reaching his hand out to you for a hand shake. “Now that you’re seeing me at a decent time, without dragging my insane child to the couch to sleep off his bad decisions, I’m the actual Mingyu.”

You reluctantly reach for his hand to shake it, the warmth of them no longer there from when he used to hold your hips or caress your cheek. They’re cold this time, but his smile is warm. You avoid eye contact, mostly looking straight past him rather than choosing to try and read his features. 

“It’s kind of weird seeing you when the sun is out, Mr. Kim,” You comment, feeling a little bit shy about all of this despite how bold you normally are. “Kind of nice that we are all here to meet without Chan dry heaving against me.”

Mingyu pauses at the name you just called him, accepting it and dipping his head politely at you with a soft and accepting smile.

“Oh yeah, for sure.” Chan laughs, squeezing your hand in his and dragging you inside, forcing you to brush only slightly by Mingyu, who steps back to give you the space. 

On one hand, that comment meant more than you meant it to, but it was also the truth. For one, you should never be calling your boyfriend’s dad by his actual name, and two, even if you never got to experience getting into Mingyu’s bed, still you’d have only met him in the middle of the night after wild college parties. Even those days when you slept over and went home the next morning, the sun was out but it didn’t change the fact that most of your waking hours with Mingyu were spent when the city was blanketed by night. 

The atmosphere feels so awkward in these circumstances and the worst part is that they’re not supposed to. If you had just kept your hands to yourself, if Mingyu was just….not so fucking hot. Even now, as you avoid eye contact with him, you watch the way he steps around the kitchen with confidence as he prepares the last of the dinner. You watch the way his shirt squeezes his biceps and the way his fingers hold a bowl. 

You are stupid to have come here so soon.

Unintentionally you rub your legs together as you watch him, as if your body will react regardless of what your heart tells you to do. Chan is off to the side moving his hand from the table and to your thigh, completely unaware that the movements from you are from unwanted arousal and not nervousness. 

“What’re you being so shy for?” Chan whispers, squeezing your thigh with care, dipping his head down to make eye contact with you. “Like you said, you’ve already met him before.”

He has no idea that the simple touch to your thigh is driving you insane right now, and you can’t even react to it the way you want to because you wouldn’t know if you’d moan the wrong name if you end up being intimate with Chan here. It feels insanely overwhelming just sitting here at the dinner table and the worst part is that it absolutely should not be like this. As if that’s not already well established in your head, 

“I know, but it’s weird pretending like it’s my first time meeting him.” You whisper back, trying to relax your body and keep your eyes on Chan. 

You can’t help but feel like he can see straight through you, despite knowing there is absolutely no way in hell he could. 

“It’ll feel better, don’t worry. I know you’ve only talked to him a few times, but he’s pretty down to earth.”

Chan really thinks you’ve only met Mingyu in passing when dropping him off. God, the guilt is overwhelming as you lean into him, dropping your head on his shoulder and sighing. You can’t even tell if this looks dramatic or awkward, but thankfully, Mingyu appears to be avoiding your eye much like you are for him. 

When dinner is ready and the three of you are sitting together and eating, it does somehow get easier. The way Mingyu plays it off, the way he carries the conversation, the way he says he’s proud of Chan for finding such a nice girl, all of it makes you feel as though he’s decided to move forward. Like he’s genuinely okay with this, like he’s moved on and you were just a notch in his bedpost. 

Which, it’s true, but you can admit that you feel uneasy with the way he no longer looks at you the way he once did.

Which is good, for him at least. You think you’ve moved on too, at least in a logical sense, but you can’t help but feel a little stab in your heart each time Mingyu acts in support of this relationship. Not that you wanted him to fight for you, or to be mad, it’s just that you really thought that maybe the two of you had a little fire starting together. Given, you’re the reason that was snuffed out, who are you to feel even the slightest bit upset that he’s being a supportive father? 

After all, above all, he is the father of your boyfriend, and not just that notch in your bedpost. You have to co-exist with him for as long as you and Chan are together, it’s better that it’s this way.

There’s a relief in the way Mingyu appears to truly not mind. He still looks at you softly when your eyes do meet, but they’re not guilty or apologetic. This is how it’s supposed to be, it’s how it was always supposed to be. 

“So, are you guys sleeping over?” Mingyu asks, grabbing his glass and taking a sip to wash down a bite of his food before looking between the two of you. “Chan, I made up your bedroom and hooked up one of the gaming systems.”

Chan nods with a fond smile before looking at you and tilting his head in question. 

“Are you good to sleep over?” He asks you, hand going back to your thigh under the table and giving you another comforting squeeze. 

You don’t want to, but Chan is still obnoxiously bad at picking up hints, so when you shrug he smiles and nods. 

“Sounds good,” He smiles, looking back at his dad and taking another bite of his food. “This is nice.”

Mingyu hums in response.

“Yeah, it’s about time you brought someone home to meet me, I was starting to think you thought I was lame or something.”

Chan laughs, tipping his chair a bit as he pulls his hand from your thigh and slouches like the college boy he is. 

“You are lame,” Chan jokes in a chuckle. “But really, dad, I just didn’t click with anyone until now.”

Mingyu pauses and then gives Chan another smile and a nod. 

“That’s really good to hear.” He compliments, standing to his feet to take his dishes to the sink.

~

You try not to be too touchy with Chan while you’re here. You’re too hyper aware of what it feels like to be touched in this house and what it does to your mind. Unfortunately, Chan is the perfect type of boyfriend you would have yearned for before all of this happened. 

He’s touchy, he’s clingy, he’s needy. Honestly, he’s all over you after dinner. On the couch he used to drunkenly sleep on, his hand is planted to your thigh, drawing little hearts with his fingertips. His lips are constantly in search of yours when Mingyu sees himself out of the room, usually to grab a drink or to go to the bathroom. 

It’s not that you pull away, but you kind of do. He seems understanding enough, knowing that you likely just feel awkward being all touchy in his dad’s house.

“He’s not even in here,” Chan prods gently, kissing against your neck. “And you look so good today.” 

You both love and hate how into you he can be. It’s something you think you’ll give in to time and time again, but still, you feel like you’re morally at a wall when he does it here. 

Even by the time the two of you make your way to Chan’s old room, you find yourself staring at the door Mingyu has closed behind you several times. His door. You know the layout of his bedroom like the back of your hand, every creak of his floor, every pattern on his window curtains. 

The guilt stays with you the entire time you’re here, and you really just can’t wait to leave. It feels like you’re a prisoner of your own fucking brain at this point, and honestly? You want to go to sleep and not spend another waking moment with your fucking boyfriend within these walls, ever. It’s too overwhelming, too awkward, and in all honesty, kind of painful with the way Mingyu seems entirely unbothered.

You’re trying to be unbothered too, even as Chan lays you down in his old bed and crawls on top of you. 

“If we’re quiet...” He starts, trying to lean down to kiss you, trying to love you the way you usually like it. But he’s quick to take note of your body language, with the way you almost curl in on yourself as he makes his attempt. 

“Hey,” He soothes, rolling off of you and clinging to your side. “It’s okay.” He continues, whispering to you and peppering little kisses against your shoulder. “We don’t have to.”

You nod quietly, turning to face him and looking at him.

“It’s not that I don’t want to.” You say, trying to make him feel less bad about it. “I just don’t think I can physically get turned on in your dad’s house.”

A lie. 

He chuckles at you with a nod. 

“Would you rather not sleep here tonight?” He asks, like, genuinely asks in a way to try and make things more comfortable. 

You nod, feeling a bit bad and like you’re making a big deal about it, even though to him, you’re not. 

“Come on, we can go back to your place.” He says, both of you still very much awake and not entirely ready for bed anyway.

“Won’t he wonder why we’re leaving?” You ask, tilting your head. “I mean, he made up your room and everything.” You nod your head to the gaming system sitting untouched, ready for use. 

“Nah, he’s just nice like that. He won’t mind.”

And, well, Mingyu really didn’t seem to care. Which, arguably, makes you feel stupid for being worried about it at all.

In fact, he barely gave either of you a nod when Chan opened the familiar bedroom door to say goodbye for the night. Both of you waving politely to him with no excuse or reason as to why you’re not staying. 

You’re aware that Mingyu knows why though. Which is probably why he didn’t offer an ounce of care or confusion when the two of you inevitably stood at his door to tell him. 

At the end of the day? This visit was tortuous only because you made it so. In your head, it’s hard to pretend. Fortunately though, Mingyu seems to have no fucking problem forgetting that you’ve ever spent a single moment alone with him. 

You try not to hurt over it.

~

Chan has this effect over you where as long as the two of you are together, he calms you to the point that you almost forget about Mingyu entirely. That is, of course, until you’re actually face to face with Mingyu himself and you have no other choice but to recognize the choices you’ve made. 

Thankfully, there isn’t much of a reason to be around him despite being in a committed relationship with his son, and that only gives you more of a reason to fall back into a comfortable mind state the second you’re out of that all too familiar childhood home of your boyfriend. 

Every single time, without fail and completely without intention, Chan manages to remind you with every kiss and touch that you’re where you’re supposed to be. With him, beside him, under him, just…anywhere with him. It feels so right when your brain isn’t running a mile a minute over the hidden secrets within yourself. 

You can genuinely say that Chan makes you happy. You can even say that you’ve never been happier in a relationship with another person. Never more comfortable, never more safe. So, when the two of you are invited to a semester-end party over at Jihoon’s place just a week later, it’s natural that both of you jump for the opportunity. 

After all, it’s been a while since you last attended a party at all, and Chan has since calmed down as well once the two of you got exclusive. It’s nice, really, without the alcohol flowing and heightened emotions. 

Every conversation from before, up to Chan asking you to be his girlfriend was sobering and pleasant. If anything, having a couple of drinks now that the two of you are falling into a routine together would be a nice change of pace for the night.

The two of you deserve this relaxation together anyway, for sure you do. After how you felt dealing with Mingyu face to face, after a rough semester, after fucking passing your exams, fuck yes you’re going to go to this party and let loose with a boyfriend you’re growing to love so dearly. 

You can tell Chan is excited too by the glint in his eye and that fond smile as he watches you get dressed and ready beside him.

“I won’t drink much so we can go back to my place and cuddle up later?” is what he whispered to you as you pinned your hair out of your face. You were happy to hear him take responsibility for what used to be a somewhat of a drinking problem. 

Unfortunately, his promise of not drinking much became more and more empty as the night went on.

For the first hour, he seemed to stick to his words. Sipping on one single drink up until the end of the hour and he goes for another. Then another, and another, up until he goes off for “one more” only to be lost in the crowd of people wandering around jihoon’s frat house. 

You stand in wait, swaying to the beat with a mere drink and a half sloshing around in your belly as you think to yourself. It’s okay. He’s just letting loose for the first time in weeks and you don’t want to seem like a pushy girlfriend or a mood kill during the middle of a party that you both very much deserve to attend.

You and Chan being in the relationship doesn’t mean neither of you get the freedom to have fun and get absolutely plastered, even if there was a slight promise of doing no such thing. You want him to have fun after the stressful semester. Especially considering how you had to practically force him to study just so he could get his GPA up. 

You want him to not feel guilty for drinking a little too much like he’s done so many times before. If anything, you need to be the supportive girlfriend, letting him lean on you and leave slobbery, wet kisses down your jaw through drunken slurs of love and adoration towards you. 

Are you a bit disappointed? Yes, of course you are. But you also don’t mind going with the flow, so flow you do. Back and forth through the rooms, mingling with Jihoon, Joshua, that one guy, and that other girl. You’re having a great time chatting it up with relaxed and giggly friends, feeling like maybe you could even use another drink or two, up until– oh.

Chan. Right there against the back door with some pretty drunken girl petting on his arm. Giggling, dipping her face, all while he says something to her with the same snicker and smirk he typically gives to you during a date or just before an intimate moment with you.

Suddenly, you remember when you let that fleeting crush on him dwindle as time passed. Sure, partially it was because of Mingyu but there was still another side to it. This side of Chan. When he’s drunk and entirely out of his mind around pretty girls and strong beverages. Always so single looking, always so flirty, never picking up hints.

He never picked up the hint that you liked him, and while he explained that away to you, watching him now makes you feel like all of those words were just to save face. He didn’t pick up the hints then, and he certainly isn’t picking up the hints now as your face falls to that of a frustrated glare. The girl notices, raises her brow at you, and then looks back at your boyfriend. 

Chan barely glances at you but when he does, it’s almost like you didn’t come here with him at all. It’s almost like neither of you ever even started dating in the first place. 

Is this all it takes? A couple of drinks and one pretty girl for him to lose all interest in you? What about you though? Is this all it takes for you to completely lose all interest? 

You’re the only one with a right to lose interest, arguably. 

Considering the way Chan looks at her, the way his hands reach for her. 

There, a girl who isn't you, to be specific. He practically ignores any hint of discomfort from you while simultaneously allowing this girl to cling all over him, run her fingers through his hair, and even so much as sipping from his drink. She glances at you again.

She fucking smirks at you.

You’re dumbfounded, appalled, and overwhelmed with rage within an instant as you stand and watch. Each person who steps in front of you or between you and your boyfriend appear to be entirely invisible as you watch, because you can’t recall a single second where you weren’t seeing the two of them up against that fucking door clear as day. 

It’s like he’s reverted back to every doubt you ever had about him, that safety you had started growing accustomed to being ripped out from under you by some woman who you’re sure he hasn’t even caught the name of yet. 

Does it hurt? Tremendously for the amount of time you’ve been with him. A few weeks shouldn’t hurt this badly to lose. 

And it’s not hard, really, to take what’s yours, or rather to throw away what’s supposed to be yours. It never really has been when it comes down to situations that force you to act on instinct. After all, Chan was the one who got serious with you. He’s the one who asked you to be exclusive. He’s the one who finally jumped in after you’d been dipping your toes in to encourage him for ages. 

And now, he’s going to fucking explain himself. You deserve to know why your boyfriend of just over a month and a half, who was previously your best fucking friend, manages to grow bored with you within the blink of an eye. If Chan can’t handle being in a relationship while alcohol is involved, he’s going to have a big decision to make. Right here. 

Right now. 

You make your way towards them, all while glaring at the woman with her hands in your boyfriend’s hair as she makes her pathetic attempts to dance sexy against him. Chan, on the other hand, is so fucking dazed and in his own world that you can argue you don’t know this man at all.

“Chan.” That’s all you say to have him raising a brow, looking at you as if you’re interrupting something. 

“What’s up babe?” He responds nonchalantly, smiling at you and leaning into the girl. 

You pause, taking a breath as you stare them both down with a grimace.

“Can you leave?” You demand more than ask towards the girl, and she scoffs only for a moment before Chan takes it upon himself to shrug her off of him and shake her away. 

You watch as she rolls her eyes and walks away, and never in your life have you wanted to slap another woman so badly. The worst part is that it isn’t even her fault that this is happening. Chan clearly didn’t tell her that he, you know, has a fucking girlfriend. 

“What the fuck was that?” You dead pan, staring straight at Chan and forcing him out of a state of bliss with your tone. 

“Babe, babe. Relax.” He slurs, smiling and chuckling throughout the words. “Just having fun!” 

You stare at him dumbfounded. Offended. Fucking appalled yet again. 

“Are you joking?” You roll your eyes much like the woman did, crossing your arms and fidgeting on your feet. “If I’d known that you would suddenly become single from getting shitfaced then maybe we wouldn’t have come to the party at all.” 

“Oh, so now you want to control me?” Chan shoots back in another slur of words. “First you force me to study, now you’re trying to make me stop having fun? Such a fucking buzz-kill.” 

You sigh, unsure as to why you thought he wouldn’t be so stubborn. Then again, you know drunk Chan better than you do the sober one.

“I really thought that once we started dating, you’d be more mindful of this. Of us.” You nearly plead now, reaching for his cup only to watch him pull it out of your reach like a child. “You need to stop drinking.”

Chan just stares at you now. You watch him try to adjust his eyes forward, and already you’re aware that he’s seeing two of you. His expression gives you nothing more than a feeling of disgust, knowing well enough that drunk words are more truthful than the sober ones.

“Chan, you’re cheating on me already.” You try to explain the gravity of the situation again. 

“I’m not cheating. I told you, I was just having some fun.” He explains away with a dopey smile, moving his weight to his other leg and blatantly stumbling over nothing as he sways himself back into a shitty-show of drunken balance.

“Yes, because it’s fun to have another woman’s hands all over you when I’m literally right fucking here?”

Only now are you actually shocked by his response. 

All he does is shrug at you with that same smile. One you’d normally want to kiss right off of his face because it’s so cute and endearing. 

But no. Instead, you feel disgust. No hurt, no pain, just…you feel gross. Embarrassed, even.

“This is childish. We’ve barely been dating over a month.” You state as a fact, uncaring if he can process the words at all. “I’m not doing this. We’re done. Have Jihoon take you back to your place.” 

And before he can even fathom saying something back to you, you leave. 

~

It’s a very bad feeling to walk into a party arm in arm with someone you imagine being with for a long time, and then walking out of that same party not three hours later alone, and seemingly broken up. 

You meant what you said though, even if you could practically see your words go through one of his ears and out the other. It’s too early in the relationship to be dealing with that. Arguably, there should never be a time in a relationship actually, where you have to practically force someone out of your boyfriend’s too-welcoming grasp. 

Ah, it’s shameful really. Given that you did your best to be a good girlfriend to him despite what happened with his dad, yet he couldn’t even offer you the decency of at least pretending to love you while drunk? 

You really didn’t pay much mind to his drinking until now. You knew he was a bit of a mess before but most college kids are, you thought. Seeing it first hand and how it can impact your relationship though? Yeah, Chan has a drinking problem and it’s one you’re not willing to work through with him. 

Partially because you’re hurt by what he’s doing and partially because the guilt of everything that happened before you started dating stresses you the fuck out. 

Maybe it’s better that you keep your distance from not only Mingyu, but Chan too. 

And you know, that sounds like such a great idea. You could start over, you could find someone new and slowly get to know them before eventually falling in love, getting married, so on and so forth.

And as you simmer over the frustration, too, too sober, you jump into your car and start driving. Where? You’re not sure. The path you’re going doesn’t lead to home at all, but you continue nonetheless. Paying too-close attention to each stop sign and red light, until–

Well.

Is it really so shocking to find yourself here of all places? 

It’s a quick trip up the steps and the knocks you lend the door are even quicker. 

There’s so much resentment inside of you at this moment when none other than Mingyu creaks the front door open. His son just fucked you over, his son was supposed to be a good boyfriend, his son just threw you away for some girl at a fucking frat party and you want to know why. 

Sure, you should be standing in front of Chan right now to get the answers, but you’re not. You’re here. You’re fucking here, on Mingyu’s front porch, glaring at him much like you’d be glaring at his son.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is shocked to see you at his door by yourself. He reluctantly lets you inside without a word spoken. He sees the expression on your face and can’t help but feel the anxiety in his gut bubble up to his throat. 

There’s tension in the air as he looks at your eyes, noting that they appear to be a bit raw. 

“What happened?” Mingyu asks, standing by the door with a look of concern as you make your way to his kitchen as if you have the right. “Where’s Chan?” He adds in a voice with even more concern. 

To you, as you sigh and look at him when he makes his way into the kitchen behind you, all you can see is that same protective father from the night you and Chan almost slept over. 

“I broke up with him.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how glassy and wet they feel. 

No, you won’t cry over this. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” He tilts his head with question, and you know he has more to say about it but you don’t really care to indulge him right now. 

“Did you raise him to be that way?” You ask, looking down and feeling frustrated. “To get bored of a relationship after a few weeks?”

Part of you knows these words include double edged swords. Who else would Chan have learned this from, anyway? With Mingyu and his all-too-caring hands acting like there’s a fucking spark somewhere in the room when you’re with him to Chan doing the exact same thing only to have both of them act as if you moving on isn’t a bother? 

“I most certainly did not teach him that.” Mingyu defends himself with a huskier tone than he’s ever used with you before. “What did he do?” 

“This girl was all over him tonight and when I split it up he got annoyed with me over it.” You sigh, rolling your eyes as you plop down on a bar stool. “Practically told me I was trying to control him, so I broke up with him.”

“Ah,” Mingyu nods, leaning against the counter. “He must have been drinking. I did tell him he needed to slow down on it, but he doesn’t exactly listen to me.”

“He doesn’t listen to fucking anyone.” You throw your arms up, eyes threatening to tear up against your will. 

Not because you’re sad, but for so many reasons aside from that. One, you just broke up with Chan. Two, you ran to fucking Mingyu over it? Three, you miss Mingyu and that’s the obvious reason as to why you’re here but that doesn’t make it right. And, well, four, the fact that he didn’t immediately smile and kiss you upon learning you’re single again is beyond frustrating.

Mingyu really did move on. 

He really did let you cut it off.

There’s a long moment of silence before you hear Mingyu sigh and look at you, studying your face with a tense jaw.

“Well,” He starts, “Is there a reason you came here over this? I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You’re not sure why those words shock you, but they do. In reality, from outside of yourself anyway, you can see how strange it must be that you came running to snitch on Chan. What’s worse is that Mingyu probably thinks you have some sort of ulterior motive behind being here. 

Which, yeah, maybe you did. In your rush of frustrations even you didn’t understand why you ended up here over this. Maybe part of you did want the comfort from him. Maybe you do want him to side with you, and hug you close despite being the one who broke it off. 

Still, Chan did fuck up. 

What part of your breakup should lend you the opportunity to come running back here though? You ghosted Mingyu to date his son. What gives you the right to be sitting in his kitchen right now? What do you expect him to say about all of this? 

“Oh, I’m so sorry babe, let me make it better.” or “I knew he couldn’t treat you the way I can.” 

Ah, fantasies. All of them are fantasies. As much as you’d love for Mingyu to say these things to you, realistically, he wouldn’t. 

He couldn’t. 

And somehow, knowing that and realizing it hurts a little more than breaking up with Chan. It’s proof that Mingyu lost interest in you too. Hell, you’re sure he lost interest the second he learned of you dating Chan. Given that he was suspiciously supportive of it, and that he even seemed happy about it? 

Perhaps he was just happy that whatever you and him had going on was over. Maybe he was relieved that he didn’t have to ghost you himself. 

Maybe you were stupid to involve yourself in any of this. Stupid to so boldly seduce Mingyu, stupid to willingly jump into a relationship with Chan, stupid to somehow believe that Mingyu would care at all about the situation as a whole. 

You guess the two really are alike, and that Mingyu did raise Chan to be cold and uncaring when the mood strikes him. 

“I guess you’re right.” You sigh, sniffling once and wiping your face before shooting up and onto your feet. “I really shouldn’t have come here.” You avoid his eye contact, feeling too many emotions to be willingly seen right now. “and I think I should go home.” 

He looks at you, nodding slowly.

“Yeah, that would be best.”

Stupid. You feel so fucking stupid. 

And as Mingyu watches you turn away from him, he can hear your sniffles. The way your shoulders tense to try and hide that you’re feeling embarrassed and utterly pathetic, he tries not to give in to that emotion. 

Yeah, you guys had sex. He knew it was wrong, but even so, he would still feel a pull in his chest to find his son’s girlfriend crying in his kitchen over something that happened. Whether he slept with you or not, it��s only human to want to comfort someone. 

But he can’t. Given the circumstances, if Mingyu so much as closes distance, he fears that you’ll see it as an invitation. Or perhaps, he will treat it as one himself. Now isn’t the time, and never should it have been time to invite you into his bed the way he did previously. 

He needs to be careful in this situation, regardless of how his heart pulls. 

Never did he want to see you hurting internally like this. 

And so, he tries to leave it alone. He tries to block out the sound of your shuffled footsteps walking away from him, and even harder does he try to block out those silenced sniffles from you. 

You feel so out of it as you make your way to the door. How you got into this situation isn’t too difficult to understand though. It was so easy to fall into it, and goddamn did it feel good at first. Now though? Ah, it hurts. 

Sure, you liked a guy and he turned out to be an asshole. That’s something that has and will happen to you time and time again, but you guess the whole fucking his dad thing makes it a lot worse in your head. 

Even so, you don’t know why you thought you could come to Mingyu for comfort. Like he’d wisp you off your feet and throw his own child under the bus. Your ego needed a check, and goddamn did both of these guys give it to you. 

That’s his son and you’re just…a girl. 

To think you’re really alluring enough to keep Chan from straying his eye…to think you’re enough to get Mingyu to side with you and touch you again? 

So fucking stupid. 

And god, this walk to Mingyu’s front door feels damning. You swear hours pass with each step but you’re sure it’s only been a few seconds. 

You realize that when you step past that front door, it’ll be the last time you’ll ever be in this house. The last time you’ll ever feel the gravel of this driveway under your tires, the last time Mingyu will ever see you walk away from him. 

It wells up inside you when you reach for the doorknob, unable to wait much longer to just move on from all of this. You want to lock it all behind this front door, instead of living with it yourself, forcing Mingyu to do it instead. 

Then, in a sudden twist of fate, you feel your body shiver at a rush of cold air behind you followed by warm arms wrapping you up entirely. 

You feel as if the breath is knocked out of you at the feeling, that cold door knob in your palm radiating with heat now as your hand is pulled away from it. You’re pulled from the door entirely, actually, and a rush of emotions hits you when you feel Mingyu’s broad chest against your back. 

You can’t help it. 

The tears on your cheeks are more from frustration than sadness, and you’re quick to try and wipe the arms that the tears fall against, but he still just holds you there. Strong arms forcing you into a reality that felt so far out of reach just moments before, forcing those warm tears to continue falling out of disbelief now, rather than frustration. 

You’d love to believe that this is just your mind playing tricks on you. Knowing you came here just to see if Mingyu would let you waste another night without Chan and with him. Running on emotions, really. It’s a trait you should probably work on, but really. You do wish it wasn’t real. That these arms around you really are just phantom weight that your heart is conjuring up. 

That the chin dropping to your left shoulder isn’t a man that’s been violating your thoughts time and time again. 

That this isn’t exactly what you want.

“Don’t hate me.” Mingyu whispers against his better judgment. He can’t help it though, the need to think of himself upon watching you touch that fucking doorknob hit him harder than anything else could have just moments ago. 

He never wanted to be in competition with his son, but fuck. He wants to at this point. He knows he can be what you need and he wants to be what you need so badly. Does he understand why? Of course he doesn’t. Something about this is so wrong and he knows exactly why it’s wrong. Does it stop him though? 

It almost did. 

“I don’t want you to leave here hating me.” He continues. 

The whisper against your neck feels so warming, sending goosebumps all over your body but you try to stay where you are. Even with your knees buckling under you, even when he holds you up and tighter against him. 

It’s the first time in several weeks since you’ve felt these arms around you. And fuck, you thought you’d be able to get over how they feel, you really thought that this heavy and overwhelmingly gentle grip would be a thing of the past. After all, it’s all you needed it to be, but here you are, feeling heartbroken over the fact that you kept yourself from this for far too long already.

You feel butterflies in your stomach flutter up to your throat, swallowing around a pathetic whimper of emotional release. 

“Just stay the night.” Mingyu adds after hearing your whimper, somehow holding you impossibly closer. 

You stand frozen, listening to his words and wondering if this is real. You feel too warm to pretend it’s not happening though, and it takes a moment to work up the courage to turn in his grasp. 

You almost forgot what it felt like to not be teased or played with. Chan really was so playful with you, to the point that it almost felt cruel at times. Mingyu though, the way he steps back and gives you the space to simply look at him? Gives you the time and space to contemplate the situation and decide whether or not you want to navigate it at all? 

At this moment, looking at him and his apologetic stare, seemingly feeling sorry that you’re going through what you’re going through while simulationaly wanting you, you can’t help but let the feelings for Chan die once and for all. 

If you’re really about to do this with Mingyu, you can’t do the back-and-forth again. You have to choose, and the choice is so fucking obvious. 

Arguably, it’s always been obvious. 

And as you keep eye contact with Mingyu, you can see something in his head break. That softened look in his eye turning to something….unabashedly crazed. As if to tell you to take the reins before he does it himself. It serves as a pleasant reminder that you’re not the only one weak when it comes to being alone together. 

You’re not the only one with guilt, temptation, and lack-of-care for morals when the two of you are together. 

You’re not alone in this. 

Mingyu is falling just as quickly as you are. 

Tumbling, spinning, fucking rolling in the idea that this doesn’t have to end. 

Honestly, with the matching gaze, Mingyu almost wishes you would walk away from this. From him. He almost wishes you could be smarter than he is in this situation. Wishes you were stronger than him and stronger than this. 

But he’s thankful that you’re not, because having the ability to watch you blink up at him like this again is flooring. In fact, he’s spent countless nights trying to push this very image out of his head due to respect for his son. 

Where is that respect now? 

Nowhere within him, and god is he thankful for it. Why should he have respect for a relationship that’s no longer there? Why should he continue to deny, deny, deny? 

He’s not in denial anymore, not with those pretty eyes looking at him like this. Not with those lips parting for each hopeful breath. Not with those hands gripping onto him for dear life, hoping for nothing more than a hug but knowing there’s so much more behind said hug. 

God, he’s melting again. For you, he’s fucking melting. 

“You need to tell me to stop, right now,” He says in a hopeless whisper, as if someone else can hear him. “Because I’m tired of pretending I have self control around you.”

And you react to those words with another pretty blink and a short shake to your head. Solidifying that he isn’t alone in the need, that he isn’t insane to want this, that he isn’t hated by you. 

It doesn’t take much, really, for him to take a step backwards. He can feel you walk with him, so he continues, walking back, back, back. Your body instinctively follows him, and you think you would follow him to the ends of the earth if you could. 

Back. Back. Back. Until the two of you are in the kitchen again, and his back hits the kitchen counter, sending a roll of paper towels to topple over and fall onto the floor. Neither of you pay attention to it, and instead hold each other in wait. 

When he drops his hands slightly, loosening his grip around your waist, he breathes out once before licking his bottom lip and fixing his gaze on your lips. 

To think either of you have self control at this moment is insane. He knows it, you know it, and god fucking damn, the entire universe would know it if they could so much as feel the electricity in this room. 

A single blink more up at him leaves him nearly breathless. No more waiting, no more offering space for if you want to pull away. No more outs. He swoops down and lands his lips on yours like he never stopped before. Like it’s natural, like this is where his lips are supposed to be. 

And all he can think of at this moment is hoping you never tell him to stop. Hoping that you’re both lost in this situation enough to experience something together just once more, if that’s all it can be. Even if this is all the two of you can be, he wants it. For as long as he can have it, he fucking wants it. 

You feel that want through his harsh kisses. Like he’s trying to swallow you up, so intimate with it, so into it. Pouring his whole soul into the way he moves his tongue against yours, the experience behind the way he breathes as he kisses is just as flooring as it always has been. Even now, you don’t compare it to the way Chan kissed you. Mingyu became the standard for everything in your head before, and it was silly for you to ever think someone else could take over that role. There is no comparing Mingyu to anyone else.

Silly, silly fucking thoughts. Logical thinking be damned, Mingyu was the logical choice all along. Morality bringing him down to a fucking notch in your bedpost? An insult. There’s something here, and to ever think that the two of you “just fucked” is so demeaning and belittling. 

You knew there was something there. And now, he’s proving it after spending too much time pretending that he couldn’t. 

You feel him move you, pushing forward, deepening the kiss and still managing to spin both of you around so that he’s pinning you against the counter now. 

“Missed the way you held onto me,” he says breathlessly, lifting your leg and holding it against his waist. “Missed the way you look at me.” He adds, more mindlessly than he has ever been, seemingly lost in the moment with you. “The way you just came into my bedroom and– fuck, i think about it so much.” 

No words have ever hit your heart so hard before. As if all this time he was pretending to be okay with your relationship. As if he did care, probably too much. 

As if he truly did miss you. 

And he proves it with every breath, grasp, kiss, and movement. It’s like he doesn’t have enough time in the world actually, to have you up against him like this. He almost rushes himself with it, pressing you more against the counter than against himself now. 

It only takes a few seconds for him to hoist you up on the counter and shrink down himself. Now he’s the one blinking up at you with fond concern on his face, fingers tugging at your shorts to imply he needs them fucking gone ten minutes ago. 

Your breath hitches for what you think could be the millionth time since you got here, but you lend him a little lift to get your shorts and panties off in one go. 

“Ahh,” He coos after tossing your clothing to the side mindlessly, both hands gripping your legs and spreading them wide as he stands back up to his full height and fits himself against you again. “Still so pretty,” He continues his string of compliments to you, dipping his head down just to get another taste of your lips on him.

His mind is entirely unsure of what to do first now that your bottoms are off, really. He’s spinning for you, and his hands search and grip all over you at the very idea that you’re propped up on his kitchen counter right now. 

The same counter he used to cook dinner for you and his son. 

Like a fucking dream.

And you can feel how hard he is when he presses against you more and more. His kiss so deep, his hips against you and reminding you of everything he’s made you feel before. Already you feel like you’re flying, but you know better than anyone that he has all the ability in the world to make you feel as if you’re fucking soaring. 

“Mingyu–” You choke out between kisses, trying to get a word in. “Let me.”

And just like the first time he ever felt your hands on him, he feels the way your palm slides down and cups his length to its best ability. His eyes go blank, the feeling so familiar and good to him that all he can do is throw his head back with a breathy chuckle. 

“Fuck, missed you.” He states as if it’s final, pressing his hips more and more against your palm as he dips right back down to kiss you even harder than before. “You have no idea.”

And then it’s like a spiral of messy, wet kisses, and his hips going from needy thrusts against your weak hand to suddenly having your hands gripping the edge of the counter as he sinks down and just…

“God,” You gasp at the first feeling of his warm tongue. “Mingyu…” 

He’s not tasting, he’s devouring. 

And he doesn’t respond, instead, he flutters his eyes shut and breathes deeply through his nose so that he never needs to pull his tongue out of you again. 

It’s like he can’t get enough of it. Never has he missed the taste of a woman on him like this, so wet and pretty when he’s licking. More and more dripping out of you just for him to swallow up and daydream about later. 

His tongue has a mind of its own at this moment when he flicks and sucks every part of you he can reach. Your clit only abandoned momentarily so he can lick deep into you before trailing back up with a deep and heavenly sigh of relief. 

His hands remain at your thighs, gripping you so tightly that you can tell he’s afraid you may dissolve in front of him. That all of this is just some wet dream that he’ll wake up from just before his own release. 

But no, you’re here. In the flesh, feeling this grip and feeling that feverish tongue greedily eat you from the inside out. Both of you are seemingly overwhelmed with the fact that it’s happening again. Or rather, finally you’re together again. 

And you can’t help it when your fingers find purchase in his hair, moaning out and echoing his name against his kitchen walls. He moans alongside you, feeling those gentle fingers scratch against his scalp in such a sweet and pleasurable way. 

If he could show you how much he needs this, he would. But this is all he can do for you to prove it, and he hopes that it’s enough. 

It isn’t long before he’s losing composure, flicking his tongue so fast against your clit that you can’t help but overpower his grip and close your legs around his head. He chuckles against your clit at that, keeping up with the assault of his tongue, listening to the way you pant above him, feeling you pull his hair, all while your legs unintentionally choke him out.

Fuck, it’s too good. You’re too good.

So, he continues and laps away like his life depends on it up until you practically lift from the counter, using your legs around his shoulders as your only form of balance when you press so hard against his tongue that all he can do is press back.

He has no breath at this moment, sucking your clit so hard into his mouth that his cock, quite literally, nearly explodes in his pants right then and there at the sheer desperation you share with him at this moment. 

And then your legs instantly loosen and you fall limp against the counter, your cum pouring out of you with each clench and shake of your body. It takes everything in him to pull his tongue away, but fuck, he needs to swallow those pretty, whined little sounds you’re giving to him. 

Quickly, he slides two fingers into you, fucking them in hard just to feel the clench of you through your orgasm, and his lips are immediately sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. 

Your mouth is slack as he tastes each sound, out of breath himself as he tries to lend all of his power behind his fingers, pulling more sounds from you before sinking them in one last time and leaving them there as he kisses the last of your orgasm out of you. 

“Shh,” He shushes you when he uses his other arm to pull you closer to him, which only forces his fingers deeper into you. “Baby, shh.” He continues to soothe you through it, still kissing, still feeling your slick gush around his fingers. “You’re shaking.” 

That little chuckle he lets out when he says those words brings you back to reality, the body-shocks of your orgasm finally subsiding just to tune in to the lack of guilt he feels. In fact, he seems proud. 

And he fucking should feel proud.

“Fuck,” You breathe against his lips, wiggling your hips and only then feeling embarrassed by the pool of wet you’re sitting in. “Mingyu, fuck.” 

He finally pulls back, keeping his fingers in you still, and tilts his head at you. 

“Mm,” He hums, nodding to himself. “Did you forget?” 

You blink at him in a daze, clenching his fingers unintentionally and wincing at the jolt of pleasure the pads of his fingers offer to your g-spot. You find yourself shaking your head, despite not knowing what the fuck either of you are saying right now. 

“Forget how much I love using my mouth on you?” He whispers it in such a filthy and deep whisper that almost instantly you’re clenching your legs around his hand. And he only chuckles again.

“Come here–” He says this time, pulling you from the counter and quickly holding you up on shaky legs. “Hold on to me, sweetheart.”

Ah, memories rush to your mind. He’s said that to you before only this time there’s more behind it. You cling to him easily even as he dips his hand down and leaves no room for question when he skews his sweatpants down. 

“Leg,” He whispers now, wrapping an arm around you and tapping the bottom of your right thigh. “Up.” 

And you listen to his directions in a daze, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his waist as he uses a strong hand to hold you up. Both of your arms shoot around his neck when you feel it, the tip of his cock being tapped against your still sensitive clit. 

“You okay?” He asks one last time, holding you so close to him that he truly can’t help but buck forward before you lend him any sort of answer. 

Your head falls against his shoulder with a frantic nod, and his body moves on its own as a response. He immediately presses his hips forward and up while simultaneously sitting you right back into your mess from before. There, you fall back against both of your palms and wrap both of your legs around his waist when you feel the stretch. 

It’s so strange to know this familiar feeling of him sinking into you, and somehow you think you love it more now than you ever did before. 

He’s quick to lean over you with a slack jaw and low rumble of a moan, one arm wrapping around your waist to scoot you forward on him when he starts to move his hips. 

Slowly at first. Just feeling you again. 

His mouth remains slack, throat drying out at all of the sounds he wants to give you. God, you’re so wet for him always. The fit is so good. The way your pussy grips him with each drag out, only to pulse around him with each push in. 

“You always take it so well–” He chokes out with another low moan, snapping his hips forward to quicken his pace. “Fuck, don’t ever–” He stumbles over his words, trying to hold them back but unintentionally saying more and more with each moaned out breath. “Don’t leave like that again.”

The words hit you harder than anything else right now. Even as he plunges his cock in and out of you so deep, it pulls nothing more than a whimper out of you with a quick shake of your head. You shoot up, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers buried into his hair. 

Instantly you cry. Like you needed to hear Mingyu do more than just ask or plead. You need him to tell you what he wants. You need a threat. A demand. 

“That’s it baby,” He smiles against your ear, pressing in deep and flexing his cock to stretch your walls out around him. “Hold onto me.”

And you do. You hold him as tightly as you can, feeling him and only him at this moment. 

He only moves faster after that, fucking into you with more force than you ever remember him doing before. He presses into you so hard, and pulls out even faster, only to press back in harder, and harder, and harder. 

Over and over again until you’re practically yelping through each thrust. Until he’s releasing small, animalistic grunts. 

Until he can’t do it anymore. This position, in this room? It’s not enough. 

He lifts you easily, loving the way you cling to him like a goddamn koala, keeping his cock buried into you as he walks you quickly to his couch. You land against the soft cushions in a mess of movements, and his hardened chest lands against you just a moment later. 

As if he never stopped, he’s right back to dragging his hips back and forth, this time with more comfort, and his lips immediately fall to your neck. 

His hands? Right up your shirt, groping, pinching, pushing, pulling. 

He’s going absolutely insane, spiraling into a world of nothingness with you as he plunges into you like his life depends on it. Grunting and breathing you in and out, feeling his own weeping cock yearn to be deeper, deeper, fucking deeper in you.

You can’t even think straight, unable to remember if he’s ever been with you like this before. Your mind is so foggy, so in love with the man on you right now that you don’t really even care. 

People always say that actions speak louder than words. Never once did you imagine that a person could move this way with you and speak so loudly with skin alone.

Never have you felt so wanted.

Never have you been so needed. 

And he doesn’t stop. His hips keep pace with each moan against you, his hands search and find, only to search again and grip you so tightly that you fear he will leave swollen imprints. 

You don’t mind. In fact, you want nothing more than to have Mingyu lose himself with you. Still, you can’t muster up any coherent words for him right now, because every sound you make is broken and dripping with the need for more of him. 

Forever more, nothing less. 

“God,”  He breathes out when he looks down at you, hips still moving at a painful pace. “When you look at me like that–”

His eyes roll back for a moment mid sentence before he’s heaving in a breath and his hips slow to a long and languid drag.

“When you look at me like this, it’s so hard to not–” He holds his words back with a shameful chuckle, shutting himself up with a kiss to your lips as he furrows his brows and puts his focus back into his deep thrusts. 

His words run circles in your head though, finishing his sentence for him in so many blissful ways that you feel your body tense at the pure excitement. Feeling his hips spread your legs with each thrust, making you feel sore all over, all of it, excitement.

“Hard not to, what?” You manage to breathe out against his lips, and his hips stutter at the way your voice breaks with each press into you. 

“Don’t.” He nearly pleads, pulling his hands from you and instead using them to rest at both sides of your head, balancing all of his weight there as he drops his forehead to yours. “Don’t encourage me right now.” 

You blink your eyes at him when he lifts his head again, feeling the way he slows his hips to a stop only to hold himself in place, throbbing inside of you. His eyes remain on yours, as if he wants you to challenge every word he says to you right now. 

“Hard not to–” You breathe out, feeling him snap his hips as if to warn you. “What? Mingyu.” 

He stares into your eyes, sucking his bottom lip in as he tries to remain composed. You only clench tighter around him though, causing a sort of sobbed groan to leave his throat this time.

“Tell me.” You whisper this time, clenching around him again and shifting your own hips to fuck yourself on him. 

His eyes squeeze shut as he drops his forehead against yours once more, chuckling out another moan at how impossible you are to him. 

“It’s hard to think I don’t want this.” He admits in a shaky breath, feeling the way you slide his cock in and out of you with pleasurable ease. “You.” He continues. “Hard to believe I’d ever be satisfied with you doing this with anyone other than–” 

You pause, clenching unintentionally only to feel him take over again, dangerously close to his own orgasm. 

“Me.” He finally says, cutting you off from responding by lifting from you entirely, angling his hips, and fucking dragging his hips back and forth just to send pointed japs against your g-spot. 

After being so…protective? Or possessive, maybe? He can’t help but feel embarrassed by his intense need to have you. Not just now, no. Not just because he’s horny out of his mind for you, but because he’s already felt the frustration of not having you while you stood in front of him. 

With your hand wrapped with his son’s. 

Never again. 

He wants this more than you know, more than he should ever admit to you.

“Mingyu–” You try to get out, but he throws a hand forward, more forceful than he’s ever been when he slips two fingers into your mouth just to keep you from enticing more truth from him. 

The way you suck in those fingers with a moan is enough to drive him over the edge, but he tries to hold off. 

He really tries. 

But he can’t, as he falls forward with his fingers loosely hanging from your still licking mouth, and there, he empties himself entirely into you. 

“Fuck–” He groans in frustration, his body jolting with each pulse. “You’re so–” 

You can feel each pulse and push of his thick ropes of cum, shooting inside of you only to squelch out with each little push his hips offer. And his face, nuzzled so close against your neck now that you can feel the way his breath stutters with each wave of the orgasm. 

All the way until he manages to lift with dizzy eyes, pulling his hips back to leave you empty as his cum drips out and onto the couch. 

There, he stares down at what he’s done to you before panic washes over him. 

It’s too late to go back now.

“You’re so–”

Silence, as every thought leaves his mind when he looks at you. How could he have ever formed words in the first place when you look up at him like this? 

Like he’s the whole world. 

~

The next morning, you sleep deeply next to Mingyu in the bed you missed so much. With the scent of him surrounding you and the weight of his arm thrown over you. His big and heavy limbs holding you close even in his deep sleep is enough to keep you locked into your own restful sleep. 

You feel so safe, so warm, so comfortable. Like this is where you belong. 

Nothing inside of you pulls with anxiety at this. In fact, you’re entirely too happy over the fact that you found yourself here the night before. Who cares about the circumstances anyway? 

And as you lay there, half-asleep to roll over and nuzzle your nose against his neck, you breathe in deeply, lulling yourself back to sleep in his warmth.

That is, until you hear a ‘click’ of his doorknob turning and instantly you feel your full heart shrivel to almost dust. 

“You’re fucking joking.” 

Oh my god. The fear of opening your eyes is intense but you know that voice like the back of your hand. Your eyes open against your own will and your body turns over to see Chan, standing right there at the door with a murderous glare directed at you. 

You wish it took you longer to process his figure, because honestly, you were feeling so warm in Mingyu’s grip, but now Mingyu, himself, is aggressively pulling himself away from you and rolling out of the bed. 

He’s standing to his feet instantly as if he wasn’t just attached to you at the fucking cock. On the plus side, at least, he put on sweatpants before the two of you fell asleep together. Unfortunately, he also put one of his shirts on you to sleep in too. 

What Chan is seeing in front of him is nothing that either of you can explain away. 

“You’re fucking my dad.” Chan deadpans with a bite in his voice, standing there as he heaves in a breath that seems to get more and more angry as the seconds pass.

“We broke up.” You manage to mutter out, unaware of how to handle a situation like this but knowing deep down that if you continue to see Mingyu, he still would have found out eventually. “You cheated on me, remember?”

Chan rolls his eyes at you.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves you off just to adjust his eyes over to Mingyu, his father.

Mingyu, towering on the other side of his bed, looks apologetic. He’s unable to explain himself because what Chan is seeing right now is really the only explanation he needs. 

“You’re fucking my girlfriend?”

“We broke up!” You cut in again as you repeat yourself with a louder voice, standing from the bed and attempting to walk up to him. Mostly to try and avert his eyes from his father.

The way his eyes look straight past you and at Mingyu is terrifying enough to have you stumble back once you get too close though. It’s like Chan is seeing red, and arguably he has every right considering if anyone should be scolded, it’s definitely you. 

“Chan,” Mingyu tries to soothe the conversation as he finally processes what is happening, his voice coming out calm and collected. Not wanting this to escalate, in fact, dead set on making damn sure that it doesn’t escalate.

Another harsh shake of his head, another roll of his eyes, and then he’s fixing his gaze back on you. 

“You looked pretty comfortable, how long?”

You look to the floor, then turn to look at Mingyu. Both of you look entirely guilty, surely, but there’s something in you that feels proud. Maybe even relieved that it’s out in the open. After all, like you’ve already said twice, you broke up with him. And for good reason, mind you. 

“Why does that matter?” You answer with a bite to your tone now, essentially answering his question. 

“You cheated on me?” His voice raises, “With my dad, and still have the audacity to be upset with me over some girl at a party?!” 

“No.” Mingyu speaks up. “We stopped. Last night was the first time since–”

“Am I supposed to appreciate that?!” Chan laughs out of dumbfounded rage, stumbling back and out of the doorway with a shake to his head. As if his eyes have to be deceiving him. “What do you mean ‘we stopped.’ ?!” 

Chan feels overwhelmed. Like, he knew he fucked up with the way he acted, and really, he does care about you but what in the fuck? This is what he gets for trying to fix it? For coming to his dad first thing in the goddamn morning for advice? This is really what he gets? To see you, all cuddled in and smiling with that stupid fucking pretty face, in his own father’s t-shirt? 

Fuck that. 

He immediately turns on his heel and stomps towards the front door.

“Chan, hold on!” You call out, gripping his jacket to keep him from leaving. “I was the one who came onto him! Mingyu didn’t even–” 

“Mingyu.” He repeats the way you say his father’s name when he turns to face you, disgusted by how naturally it came from your lips. “What else do you call him?” 

You stand there in awe, looking even more guilty. You remember how Mingyu told you just to call him by his name, and so that’s all you ever called him. Never any pet names like what Chan is implying.

“Did you whine and cry for it like you always do for me?”  He seethes out, inching his face closer and closer to yours. “Was it worth every second?” 

“That’s enough,” Mingyu starts, walking up between the two of you and pulling your hand off of his son’s jacket. “Chan, that’s enough.”

Chan watches how gentle Mingyu is with your hand, eyeing how you let go the instant his fingertips touch your skin. His mind is fucking spinning in betrayal right now. 

“We need to calm down before we talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Chan barks back, nearly spitting in his father’s face at the way he acts like he’s not the one guilty. “You’ve been fucking my girlfiend.”

And oh, poor fucking Jihoon, standing off to the side with his mouth permanently open in shock. Honestly, Chan was anxious before coming here, questioning Jihoon over and over again on how to explain himself and fix what he fucked up. The last thing he expected was to see none other than Chan’s girlfriend rushing out of Mingyu’s room without pants on, fucking glowing with that after-sex dew.

Oh god. This sucks.

“Chan!” Mingyu raises his voice this time, grabbing his son by both shoulders and forcing him to look at him. 

And when Mingyu goes to try and explain himself, there’s nothing he can say. He simply looks at his son as his stoic face turns to that of realization. 

All Chan can do is laugh at the audacity before shrugging Mingyu’s hands off of him and glaring at you once more. 

“To think I wanted to fix things.” He breathes out, grimacing at you before shoving past you and going straight for the door. 

Chan knew he fucked up with you, but it’s not like he slept with the girl. Sure, he was in the wrong to flirt, and to let her be all over him like that, but he’s not the one who went off and fucked someone last night. The fact that you could have broken up with him and fucked literally anyone else is flooring to him. He would have forgiven you if you had it in your heart to forgive him first. 

But this? You not only went for his dad, but it hurts more knowing that his own father reciprocated?! More than once, apparently? 

You’re both guilty. 

You’re both disgusting. 

And with that, Chan slams the front door behind him and Jihoon is left staring at the shaking walls before turning to look between you and Mingyu.

Only then do you notice Jihoon there, widened eyes and a big gulp of air. 

“Fuck.” You groan, feeling dizzy and nearly falling to the floor right then and there. 

Jihoon is quick to see himself out of this awkward situation, and it’s not long before you hear the car peel out of the driveway and down the street. 

Fortunately, Mingyu is quick to come up behind you, hugging you as if everything that just happened wouldn’t stop him from touching you again. 

Or maybe you’re just too hopeful, because within an instant, his once warm hands feel cold and shaky against you. This hold on you feels…different.

Like it’s out of obligation, not out of want, or need. 

Instantly, you’re expecting him to end this right now. To end all of this with you, and it hurts more to think about how he should do that. You wouldn’t blame him, hell, no one would fucking blame him if that’s what this hug you’re getting from him is telling you. 

It hurts. Of course it hurts. The inevitable of what any rational person would do in this situation bubbling up as a mass of anxiety in your throat. You can only remain quiet, feeling the soreness take hold on your heart. 

Despite Chan being rightfully upset, despite what you’ve done, despite what Mingyu has done, you’re upset over it all simply because you can’t realistically be with Mingyu at the end of the day. No, not without ruining his life. 

Not without both of you losing Chan, and to even expect him to do that in the first place should have been your first red flag regarding yourself. 

You played them both, unintentionally, but with the best intentions at the end of the day. 

And when you feel him hold you closer, that soreness inside of you settles just a bit. All he has to do is drop his chin to your shoulder and talk against your neck with a shaking breath. 

“He’s not going to forgive either of us if we continue.” He whispers in a voice that seems both broken and firm at the same time. And he nuzzles his nose against your neck, inhaling deep before releasing a drawn out sigh with a tighter hold on you. “I understand if you want to be with my son, but I won’t be able to pretend I’m happy for either of you from this point forward.” 

You pause, feeling the anxiety well up and jumble in your head. 

“Is this an ultimatum?” You shake yourself from his grasp, feeling overwhelmed, guilty, happy that he’s suggesting that maybe, just maybe, he’d fight to keep you for himself. 

But no. Instead, Mingyu stands tall, no longer shrinking himself to your size and glancing at you with a slow and stubborn shake of his head. Now, he’s unable to keep his eye trained on you, the weight and shame of what the two of you are doing is pushing him down, down, down.

“It’s wrong.” He explains as if you don’t know. The reality is that you do know, you just prefer not to listen. You prefer not to learn from this. “I can’t just pick you over my own son.” 

You try to step forward to try and keep him from speaking. You’d do anything to keep him from speaking right now, but he isn’t budging. He doesn’t break like he usually does when you’re this close, in fact, he takes a step back and away from you. 

You feel your heart hit the floor at that moment. 

“So, it’s not an ultimatum.” Your voice cracks. “I just lost both of you.” 

Mingyu can only nod, trying to ignore that crack in your voice and the tenseness in your shoulders. 

“Which, somehow, doesn’t shock me.” You lend a pained laugh at the situation alongside a sniffle. 

“Realistically.” Mingyu finally responds, his own voice wavering just for a moment. “I shouldn’t have given in, and I shouldn’t have led you on either. We both knew it couldn’t work.” 

Why do you feel blamed for this?

“And at this point, I can’t give approval of you pursuing my son either. There’s too much between us that has happened, I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing you again.” 

“But what about everything from last ni-” You start, reaching forward and trying to grasp him, unaware that you’re about to start pleading.

“Don’t.” Mingyu’s voice wavers again when he says it, pulling away from you for what he hates for the last time. “Let’s just leave it.”

And with that, you’re left with no choice. 

You leave, realizing that Chan probably knew from the moment he pulled in considering your car sits in the driveway proudly. 

There’s nothing left here for you. 

~

Days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months with no contact from Chan nor Mingyu. Which, that much is expected but you were still hopeful for a few weeks there. 

Not even that you want Chan based on everything that’s happened, more so that you feel like he deserves the deepest apology you could possibly offer to another person. It appears he doesn’t want nor does he need it. Every text is met with the reminder that you’re blocked. 

In time, you try to move on too. Each day is becoming easier and easier to forget how you felt, which is insane considering how deep you thought it was originally. There’s still love there, somewhere, but you’re well aware now that there’s nowhere to put it, and there is no one who wants it either. 

So, you just…exist with it until it dwindles deep enough inside of you that laughing and meeting new people becomes easy. 

Chan, on the other hand, is moving away. Thanks to Jihoon and his pre-planned transfer for the next semester, Chan was quick to jump on the plan with him and try his damndest to get a transfer in too. 

It worked out, and he left the city with his best friend in tow without so much as telling you, better yet his father. 

In fact, he doesn’t want a damned thing to do with either of you, and feels no pain or interest in thinking about what happened any longer than he already did. Months passed differently for him. They passed happily. 

And, well, that leaves Mingyu with his internal fight for his son’s forgiveness after all this time passed. 

Not a day has gone by where Mingyu wasn’t fighting with himself on whether to get on his knees and fucking beg Chan to talk to him, or to give in, again and again, just to see you. Just to feel you. Just to hear you. 

He’s going fucking insane, actually. Thankfully though, after months worth of attempts to gain forgiveness, Chan made himself very clear that he never wanted to speak to Mingyu again. Well, that leaves little to no room for Mingyu to keep trying. At least not for now. 

He is forever thankful to Jihoon though, despite knowing what he’s done to Chan, Jihoon still sends him update texts. 

“Chan has a new girlfriend,”  Mingyu found out just last month about that. 

“His grades are really good, but I wouldn't suggest asking him home for the holidays. He plans to spend them with me and my family,” Mingyu heard just a week ago. 

And, well, despite the fact that his own son has rightfully disowned him, he still feels proud that Chan appears to be happy and doing well. Even with a father as useless as he is these days, he truly is proud of him. 

So that leaves us here. Cool winter air outside, heated arguments and painful words left long forgotten to burn little patterns into every heart that was involved in the situation. 

If there’s anything Mingyu can fuck up now, he can’t imagine the outcome being worse than it already is. He tried everything to fix the situation, and it appears that this is just how things are going to be from now on. 

Without his son. 

But not without you.

~

After a long and exhausting day out with your friends, you feel good. Happy, even. Genuinely happy for the first time without the weight of past situations weighing you down. You were happy to make it home and even happier to enjoy a nice and warm shower alone.

Because finally you feel okay being entirely alone. You feel comfortable.

That is, until you check your phone and notice that you received a text message hours prior to now. Your stomach instantly drops reading the name, because you really thought you’d never live to see the day where he reaches out to you. 

Mingyu: can we talk?

Mingyu: just talking. nothing else. 

The fact that he still had your number saved. The fact that you remember how the gravel of his driveway felt under your tires when you went to see him. The fact that you can remember the coolness his kitchen counter offered to you the last time you spent the night, and the warm bed you woke up in before it went cold. 

Just like that, you’re back to square one. Reverting back to all that is Mingyu, and all of that silent, reluctant love he gave you despite the problems that would arise. 

And upon Mingyu finally seeing you again, he really, really can’t help it. 

Immediately, he’s giving in to a woman who ruined his relationship with his son without her so much as trying, giving in to the touch and feel of another person, and giving in to his own weakness.

He missed you. 

He always fucking misses you.

And at the end of the day, that’s really all he can say about the entire situation. He misses you, and despite the fact that Chan will never forgive him for this, the truth of the matter is that sometimes two people grow feelings for each other regardless of the surrounding circumstances. Chan wasn’t going to forgive him to begin with anyway. 

Regardless of losses and gains. Regardless of the whispering in town. Regardless of the pain and heartache that could inevitably come from this, Mingyu cannot keep his heart to himself. 

Especially when you so willingly accept it. Here, tangled in the sheets of his bed, hands intertwined his with, hushed breaths and warm tears. 

He doesn’t think he could ever regret what he’s done with you. In fact, it’s possible that he’d be willing to lose much, much more than to give you up again. 

There’s only one thing that drives a person to go to such drastic lengths. It’s not selfishness, it’s not lust, and it’s certainly not spite. A nagging feeling so ingrained within the heart, digging and prodding until the sorrow overflows that empty piece and fills a person with so much dread and dilemma that all they can do is either rip their hair out or fucking bite the bullet. 

Some would say it’s love. 

Mingyu would say it’s you.

#seventeen smut #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #svt smut

[malleleothreesome]

Leona who is pining after you...

💛 summary: Cohesive blurbs about things Leona would do and what he would be like if he were pining after you. ༶༶༶ 💛 warnings: gender neutral reader, unedited, pretty much just a stream of my thoughts. There is cursing. Very angsty but also has romance. Mentions of depressive thoughts. A very raw look into Leona's mind. There is smut (wet dream) in the middle, marked with 🔞 if you want to skip to the next bullet. ༶༶༶ 💛 word count: 4.7k because I'm delulu

💛 Leona who is pining after you... tries to gaslight himself and cling to any sort of logical explanation he can come up with to try to convince himself that he definitely does not have feelings for you. It was probably just a one-time thing, and he just needs to find a way to get you out of his head. He's never thought about anyone this way before, so it's definitely just an error in his brain chemistry or something. It was only a coincidence that he happened to be thinking about you at that particular time, and if you had never been on his mind at all, his heart wouldn't be beating so fast every time he interacts with you. He would never allow himself to develop feelings for anyone, especially you, so he must not actually have any. It's really that simple. It couldn't possibly be that he's fallen for some weird, magicless human, right? Right?! There has to be something medically wrong with him! He must be crazy to have these kinds of thoughts about a stranger who just randomly poofed into existence at the beginning of the semester. Why did you invade his dreams? It doesn't matter! What the hell is wrong with him?!

It has to be a mistake, because there is no way he would EVER fall for someone as annoying and boring as you are, even if you do seem to have a better understanding of him than the people who have known him his whole life, and you treat him like he actually matters instead of seeing him as the scumbag you probably should have gotten to know better before giving him your time and attention. It's not like he genuinely cares what you think of him, anyway – he’s just grateful that he doesn't have to deal with another person treating him like a failure or a lazy, worthless piece of shit.

The way you look at him like he could be someone worth loving despite his constant tirade of anger is definitely not a key factor in him caring for you. Your smile and laugh makes his chest feel funny, and the fact that he is suddenly hyper-aware of his body when he's around you is probably just a symptom of mental or physical illness. Maybe he’s finally eaten too much red meat and he’s about to succumb to heart disease at the ripe age of 20. Perhaps he simply hasn't rubbed one out in a while and he’s thinking with his dick and not his head? He's definitely not attracted to you, and he's absolutely not thinking about what it would be like to kiss you right now. That would just be insane, and he can't believe he even let himself entertain the thought! He’d rather die than think about what it would be like to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you sit on his lap, looking down at him with that beautiful smile and those cunning eyes of yours, gently stroking his face as you lean down to press your lips against his… oh, god dammit!

💛 Leona who is pining after you… finally lays down in surrender to the fact that, alright, maybe he does have feelings for your dumb ass – against all odds. He convinces himself that he’s only humoring this pathetic little crush because it makes his monotonous, tiresome days a little more riveting. Lions are predators, and the thrill of the hunt is a key part of their nature, after all. Before you, all he had to look forward to was staring at the ceiling in his dark room for most of the day until the stars showed up in the sky, or until he got roped into housewarden drama and became too frustrated to do anything other than restlessly pace around Savanaclaw before eventually confining himself back to the comforting solitude of his room. He tells himself he might as well allow himself the small luxury of thinking about someone who doesn’t entirely annoy the shit out of him, because he could sure as hell use the emotional relief. At least this way, he isn’t actively thinking about how much he hates his life, and how much he hates himself for letting it become this way. Besides, what would be the harm in letting himself entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe – if he was lucky enough – you could be the first person to ever break down the walls he built to keep himself from getting hurt by other people? Plus, if nothing else, you make for such a pretty daydream.

Every moment he spends with you makes him want you to keep sticking around even after everything is said and done. You can actually keep up with his banter, which is probably why he can actually stand being around you in the first place. No one else is capable of keeping up with his quick wit, or of providing him with a good challenge. You aren't scared off by his harsh demeanor, and you're able to stand up to him when he gets a little too overbearing. You don't take his bullshit, but you still care about his well being and treat him with respect. Despite his public struggles, you don’t see him as some sort of charity case. He's never met anyone else who is able to be so firm with him, but gentle at the same time. He didn't know someone could have such a strong presence without even having magic, but you're somehow always able to pull the rug out from under him, showing him that you're much more powerful than he initially gave you credit for. You're a real pain in his ass sometimes, but you're also the only person in years who's made him feel like life might actually be worth living. Maybe these feelings aren't so bad after all…

💛 Leona who is pining after you… starts leaving his room more often and even attending classes again, hoping he'll run into you on campus. If he doesn't see you, that would suck, but he knows if he stays in his room all day, then he'd risk losing the chance to spend the day with you completely. Besides, if there's even the slightest possibility, seeing you could be the highlight of his day and make even his shittiest days seem almost bearable. When you finally show up, he throws a casual greeting and a nonchalant raise of a single brow, pretending like he coincidentally ran into you in the crowd and totally didn't memorize your class schedule. When your face lights up, telling him you were glad to run into him, his pulse races and for a split second, a goofy grin flashes on his face and he desperately starts fighting his tail from swishing eagerly behind him. All he does is mumble in agreement, then shove his hands in his pockets, rolling his eyes like this isn't what he's been waiting for since he woke up. He says he might as well join you in the cafeteria, because he's starving and it's that time anyway, so whatever.

As you enter the lunch line, your face falls in disappointment when you realize your favorite sandwich is sold out. Leona expected something like this would happen, so he asked Ruggie to grab him one of that type of sandwich along with his usual order, on the chance that he would get to spend lunch with you. He looks to his right, glancing at your slumped shoulders as your mood seems to deflate a little as a frown forms on your face. He steps forward and grumbles an off-hand comment that he snagged one earlier for himself, but since you look so pitiful, he'll let you have it, only because he doesn't want to deal with your incessant whining the whole lunch. When you gape up at him, shocked by his thoughtful gesture, his face starts burning red as he quickly turns away, aggressively stuffing a bite of food in his face to make himself look distracted. When he happens to catch your thankful eyes glistening at him, it feels like the air has been punched right out of his lungs, and the small smile and sincere gratitude tugging on the corner of your lips causes his stomach to do backflips. How annoying that his usually stoic demeanor always falls apart in front of you.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... constantly teases you and tries to embarrass you, attempting to make it sound like you're the one pining for him (even if you're not!) just to try to distract you from the truth. He teases you relentlessly, hoping it’ll make it so you won't feel confident calling him out on the little ways he treats you differently than everyone else. He loves seeing you get flustered trying to deny it, but he also uses it as an opportunity to study your reactions, trying to deduce your real feelings for him by the color in your cheeks, the wavering of your voice, how often you avert your eyes, and how quickly you fire back with an argument. The smirk that emerges on his face tells you exactly that he's not convinced, even if you deny everything. He may be subtle about it, but he uses every opportunity he can find to feel you out, to see if there's even the slightest possibility you might feel something for him. He'll never let you know how badly he wants it to be true with every fiber of his being. He’d be absolutely thrilled if you confessed to him, but he’ll never show it, because it's far more comfortable hiding behind sarcasm. His prideful, guarded heart prevents him from expressing genuine positive emotions and potentially opening himself up to any type of mockery.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... slowly becoming more attached to the idea of you falling for him. As the weeks go by and he hears you giggle as you argue with him, his thoughts linger a bit more when they try to calculate why he's not actually feeling burnt out from spending so much time with you. His patience with the rest of the world starts waning, not really bothering to deal with anyone or anything that could distract him from basking in your aura for as long as possible. He even takes a more active role in interacting with you, whether you two are chatting as he sits on a bench in the botanical gardens, or hanging out after-hours in his room, hoping that this could eventually become a common routine. He loves learning about you and the world you come from. When you open up about your background, he enjoys getting a glimpse into your mind. His brain starts rapidly filing away little details about you, creating a catalog of thoughts for each of his favorite things about you, or the little quirks you have that he secretly finds endearing. The memories of conversations where you both held each other's gaze for a fraction of a second longer than normal or the accidental touches that cause his heart to skip a beat come to life with a vibrance never seen in other parts of his memory bank. The time you grabbed his hand because the tree branches kept making “spooky” noises around you and the time you playfully messed up his hair (even daring to cop a feel of his ear in the process!), are some of his favorite memories to revisit.

As you two grow closer and more comfortable with each other, he pretends to be annoyed at you more often, only because he wants to test how well you can read him, and also how far he can push you. He revels in the way he feels a spark in his chest and a faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips whenever your eyes meet. He tries hard to remind himself that the growing heat rising to his face every time you grin at him is all because of the temperature. His playful touches start to become more sensual, his voice dips deeper and more seductive as his hands linger on your skin, his breath fanning against your face and neck with every taunting word spoken. He hates himself for loving the way you bite your lip and blush under his gaze as he continues to run his hand up your arm, causing your eyelids to flutter. He loves the feeling of power your vulnerable, affectionate expression grants him, the rush of endorphins so great he thinks his entire body might collapse. When he pulls his hand back, the stinging absence leaves him in a state of panic, terrified that this might have been the moment you'd realize how he feels about you and finally flee. In an effort to swallow his vulnerability and save face, he'll cover up his aroused desire with aggression. With a bite in his tone, he'll lash out at you, mocking the way you acted so touch-starved and desperate in the heat of the moment, even though the only one truly desperate here is him. He has to force himself to maintain eye contact and an air of dominance with you while he snaps at you, even as he feels his throat tighten, heart slamming against his ribs. He metaphorically shoves you away and leaves before he loses control, before his raw affection for you spills from his lips like a confession.

💛 🔞 Leona who is pining after you... fast asleep as he lies alone in bed, your figure haunting his dreams. Right before he fell asleep, he was having a particularly bad day and he found himself clinging to a fantasy of holding you in his arms, using you as an anchor to help him process the dread of reality. On a typical night, all he has are his regrets and unanswered questions swirling around in his subconscious, but tonight is different – he falls asleep dreaming about being curled up against your warmth, wondering what it would be like for you to stroke his hair, gently reminding him that there's at least one good thing to wake up for, no matter how empty the day may feel.

As he falls deeper into his slumber, his eyelids begin to twitch and his long eyelashes tickle his flushed cheekbones. He finds himself lost within a dreamy state that feels so very real to him as your face fades into focus. You're kneeling beside him in the bed, and his body is covered in the sheets, with your arms wrapped underneath his shoulder. He can barely tell whether or not this is really a dream at this point as you rest your head against his. He can feel his body stirring and his tail twitching, roused by the comforting and blissful affection. The way you smile at him as you run your thumb along the curvature of his sharp jawline stirs a dormant ache in his soul as you lean forward and leave featherlight kisses in the crook of his neck, causing him to whimper under his breath. He buries his nose in the locks of your hair, desperately wrapping his arms around your waist, pushing your face deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder, craving the coziness and comfort of being physically close to the source of his yearning. In his dreams, your lips are able to be as soft and gentle as they are fierce and demanding, as the grip he has on reality grows weaker the longer he lets himself be trapped under the intoxicating spell you cast upon him, rendering him at the mercy of his deepest desires.

His breath becomes more labored and hitched, his temperature rising as a flush spreads across his face. His body starts moving involuntarily and he buries his hips further into his mattress, his aching cock desperate to be touched, throbbing as his precum smears against the sheets. He begins humping the bed, whining from the friction against his bare skin as he pulls you closer in his dream, shamelessly chasing after the erotic thoughts racing through his mind, fueled by the illusion of having you in his possession – ready to be ravished and worshiped by him and him alone. His full lips part as he moans your name. He thrashes around in his bed, a tingling, aching need radiates throughout his groin as his back arches off of the sheets, grinding his cock against the fabric of his blanket. He can almost feel the warmth of your body as he bucks his hips upwards once more, desperate for your heat. His fingers twitch as they clutch tighter onto the fabric, desperately trying to grab onto the illusion of you instead, wishing he could feel the texture of your skin underneath his fingertips. In his hazy state, he bites his lips and runs his fingers down his sculpted abdomen, his hand with a mind of its own, aching to reach lower. With a sigh of pleasure, he teases the tip of his leaking, throbbing erection as the muscles in his legs quiver with anticipation. He pushes his thumb against the slit of his tip, already wet with his excitement. He slowly rubs circles around his cockhead, causing his breath to hitch and his cock jerk at the sensation. In his unconscious mind, it's not his hand gripping his shaft – it's yours.

He wraps his large hand around the length of his dick, letting out a moan of pleasure as he starts to stroke, his pace increasing steadily with each pump, imagining what it would be like to have you kneeling between his spread legs, looking up at him as you jerk him off, begging to be fucked by him. His cock twitches and aches to be inside of you, to see your lewd expression as his dick fills you, his senses overwhelmed by the sight of you under him, sprawled out, sweaty and splayed wide open for the taking, gasping for air in between broken moans. His hips buck into his hand and he lets out a low growl as he feels the pressure building within him, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. He quickens the pace as he squeezes the base of his cock, stroking faster and faster, trying to keep up with the intensity of his dream. He wants to feel your velvety walls squeezing around him, milking every drop of cum from his throbbing cock. He pants heavily as the sensation of ecstasy courses through his body, moaning your name as he orgasms, his back arching off of the bed as he cums all over his hand, shooting thick ropes of hot cum onto his abs. He slows his pace, riding out his orgasm, lazily stroking his cock as it pulsates through his veins, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure tingling down his spine. With a final moan of satisfaction, he collapses on his bed, utterly spent from his activities. The euphoria of his orgasm fades away as he comes back to reality, slowly finding himself coming into consciousness. As he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the mess he made. He groans as he rolls out of bed, annoyed that he has to clean up after his wet dream before he can go back to sleep.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... falls into despair when he realizes his stupid feelings for you aren't going away – they're actually getting stronger by the day. You’ve made him feel like the world's not actually so cruel anymore, but he knows that his tiny, fragile castle is sure to crumble at any moment. Nothing good ever stays his way, does it? He's been telling himself that this was all some game. It's not like he actually wanted to be in a relationship with you, right? That would be far too much work. But what if you were actually worth the time? What if he could have someone who knew every aspect of his being and still loved and accepted him? What if he could be the person who's worthy of your beautiful, unrelenting love? Even as he chastises himself for entertaining the possibility of a relationship with anyone – especially a herbivore like you – a desperate, longing ache burrows into his bones, overpowering the cold, empty hollowness within him that had haunted him his whole life. This can't be love that he's feeling, and if it is... he knows now that love is the only strategy game in existence he's terrible at playing. There's no doubt in his mind he'll make the worst decisions imaginable because his entire being is clouded with insecurity. He is painfully aware that if he were to ever open himself up to the possibility of being with you, then his first thought would be of a thousand ways you would hurt him. He tortures himself with worries and fear, letting himself be consumed by anxiety.

The thing that frightens him most is becoming reliant on someone else for his happiness. Having someone whose opinion he actually values not thinking he is good enough for them is his worst nightmare. If there's one thing life has taught him, it's better to not have anyone at all. Besides, he doesn't even deserve you. There isn't a soul in this world who deserves someone like you – someone so selfless, understanding, empathetic, and forgiving. If you were his, you'd suffer. Your light would slowly flicker out from the darkness he would drown you in, just like everything else in his life that ever mattered to him. There is so much beauty to you that would go to waste in his care – why would someone as perfect as you ever settle for someone like him, anyway? There's no way you'd ever return his feelings. And even if you did… could he even be brave enough to allow you in? Does he have the strength to accept a heart freely offered to him? Will the scars and darkness within him allow him to accept such pure and unconditional love? He can't possibly be selfish enough to ask you to take the chance on him. You deserve to be with someone who is strong and complete – someone who can give you their whole being, wholly and unreservedly – not someone who is afraid of showing weakness, for fear of you leaving him broken-hearted. Someone who would actually have the capacity to love you like you should be loved. Not a broken, shattered shell of a Prince that could only ever give you pieces of his heart that are full of cracks.

Why the fuck does his chest hurt just thinking about the fact that you would be better off without him? It feels as if someone were stabbing his heart repeatedly, and no matter what he does, the wounds refuse to close and the blood continues to ooze through the cracks. He stares up at the dark ceiling of his dorm room as a single tear rolls down his cheek for the first time in years as he tries to cope with this excruciating feeling of hopelessness, despondency, and despair. The fear that you will one day be gone from his life grips his soul, his heart pleading with him to simply confess, yet his twisted mind forces him to remind himself of his inadequacy. What a sad, pathetic sight you would see, the once fearsome lion, pitifully pawing at your ankles as his heart poured itself at your feet, praying for the warmth of your love and the validation of your approval.

💛 Leona who is pining after you… hates how obsessed he is with you and your opinion of him. Every day he finds himself trying to be better because you make him want to try harder to make the world a brighter place. Maybe you're right, maybe he doesn't need to be King in order to lead people and do great things. Because of the friendship you two have nourished, he finally feels comfortable opening up to you and talking to you about what he's going through: his past, and how much he truly cares about everyone's safety, success, and overall happiness – a sentiment that's foreign to everyone who's ever known him in the past. Although he still can't bring himself to vocalize his emotions aloud, you now truly understand the message his eyes are always trying to relay, no matter how small the glimpse: even if he was destined for a fate in the shadows, his biggest hope is to someday become the leader he was supposed to be. His newfound vulnerability allows you to slowly chip off the armor that guards his heart and bring him peace, healing his wounded spirit. Because of you, he now understands what it feels like to be valued and treasured by another, and he feels empowered enough to put the effort into doing something to change his future for the better. It scares him how badly he wants to impress you, wanting you to be proud of how he's matured.

Before taking on the daunting task of bettering his Kingdom, he starts with something small – making a positive difference in your life. You actually make him feel useful. He loves the way you look up at him with admiration. He knows now that one of the reasons he fell for you so hard is because you always ask for his advice – knowing damn well he's the smartest person in this godforsaken place – and you actually take it. You listen to him and you value his opinions. Seeing things work out for the better when you take his advice and enact his plans gives him a rush of pride and confidence. It motivates him to keep working hard to have good ideas that benefit the world. He's always enjoyed helping people even though he's bad at putting it into words, or showing his true intentions, instead preferring to keep people guessing while he hides behind his indifference and nonchalant attitude. But now, thanks to you, he finds that the more time he spends caring about helping the people around him, the more understanding and honest he is with himself, the happier he becomes. He's feeling more confident stepping up to the plate, having less fear of letting himself or the other people he cares about down.

He started feeling honored to be the housewarden for Savanaclaw again and he actually takes the responsibility seriously, tackling issues and standing his ground with the students and teachers. He wants to set an example for others, making you proud of his actions by raising his standard. When it comes to issues in the school and within his territory, he's calm and diplomatic as he addresses issues – making sure everyone is heard and everyone walks away satisfied. No longer is he plagued by a lack of enthusiasm to make real, significant changes. He now genuinely enjoys himself, striving to go beyond his expectations to overcome his shortcomings, always pushing himself to think outside of the box. It's like the Leona of his past no longer exists, and he doesn't feel any resentment or shame at the thought, simply believing it's for the better that he finally has the strength to make room for a version of himself he can enjoy instead. Because of your guidance and patience with him, he’s slowly learning to no longer fight his introspective nature, instead choosing to work hard every day to embrace all aspects of himself – whether they be negative or positive. Every day is far from perfect, but he's allowing himself the respite of leaning on your shoulder, even though for now, it’s just as a friend and trusted ally, not as a lover. For the first time, he's happy with where his life is going and the person he is becoming. Through this whole experience of falling for you, he learned that there are still things worth fighting for, regardless of if you one day soon reciprocate his feelings or not. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.

I was nervous to write this because we all know that canon Leona leaves much to be desired when it comes to his story and the complexities of his character. I've spent over a year of loving him, meticulously crafting who I think he is and who I want him to be. Most days, I'm pretty sure Leona Kingscholar is just a character who exists solely inside of my mind, completely separate from the source material. So, if this resonates with you, I am very glad! Thank you for reading. I hope I was able to bring justice to my beloved Leona! If you would like to see this series with another character, please let me know. 💛 Erica Malleleothreesome

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar smut #twst leona #twisted wonderland leona x reader #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland leona #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar angst #my writing

[sapphosclosefriend]

-Thanksgiving Fun-

Pairing: Stepcousin! Masc! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Summary: you were never able to resist her, not even on Thanksgiving.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: top! (beefy and tattooed 🤤) Natasha x bottom! R, stepcest, enemies with benefits, allusions to weed consumption, SMUT, oral on strap on (R giving), throat fucking (R receiving), strap on sex (R receiving), extremely brief oral (R receiving), squirting (R)

A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. I literally wrote this in 2 days out of a frenzy so Idk how good it is…M, P, G pt 2 will come, I promise!!!! Once again, thanks to @rt--link for being so sweet! As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

It was already November, which meant it was Thanksgiving time! You were so excited to finally get back home for a little bit after the couple of months you had spent away at uni. Contrary to most of your friends, you actually really liked Thanksgiving. Yes, it meant having to undergo the neverending interrogation from your classically nosy aunts, but you gladly did it every year to be able to spend some time with all of your relatives, even the ones who lived a bit more far away. Of course she was also one of them, though.

Natasha was one of your aunt’s daughters. Her mother had married your uncle 3 years before, making her, the redhead and her sister officially part of the family. Everyone liked Nat as soon as she became part of the group and her sister Yelena, with her sharp wit, was, if possible, even more beloved by everybody. As soon as the two girls regularly entered your lives, you had followed everyone’s advice and started to hang out together. You’d always felt very lucky for having cousins of your same age range, making them some of your closest friends ever, and having the chance of adding someone else to the group immediately sounded like the best idea ever, or at least that’s what you had thought at first.

That was because you didn’t like Natasha, you just didn’t. If at first, while witnessing her interactions with other people, she seemed to be the sweetest girl in the world, once you finally got to know her personally you started loathing her. She wasn’t necessarily a bad person, she was just so irritating all the time. And the worst part was that, apparently, she only acted that way with you, not with her friends, not with your other cousins, not even with her own sister, just with you. If you thought that, thanks to uni’s social life, you had met the cockiest motherfuckers in the world, you were utterly wrong. Natasha was the most terrible one of them all. It was constant teasing, constant comments, constant jokes, constant snickering and each time you heard her voice or looked at her, you wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk off her pretty face.

You didn’t know how it all started. Well, of course you knew that one time, at your grandma’s house to celebrate her birthday, Natasha had been particularly annoying since the moment you’d gotten there, which resulted in you being bitchy and her pulling you into the bathroom and kissing you once she had you trapped against the locked door. You hated it, every second of it and the fact that you ended up begging her to keep going while she was with her fingers knuckle deep inside of you wasn’t of any importance. You weren’t proud of what happened that day, but you were too nice to deny her when a couple of days later she was at your door ripping your clothes off of you. You were both attending the same uni and, despite literally never seeing each other in academic nor social settings, you started finding the closeness to be a much bigger impediment to your initial want to put a stop to your newly found situation. You were growing weaker and weaker to her charm, only while in the bedroom of course, and your intent to end it all kept getting pushed to the back of your mind each time you came with her name on your lips, until it was completely gone.

And that’s how you ended up at yet another family gathering partly ruined by her, this time to celebrate Thanksgiving, having to try to push away the tingle between your legs at the sight of her in her usual casual clothes hiding the defined muscles underneath as she talked with her dad and your grandpa about something involving a bike she was fixing up for herself. You were keeping your distance for your own sanity, but you could clearly hear their words and her low, raspy voice regularly adding to the conversation. You didn’t know what the hell they were talking about and either way, you had stopped actively listening long before, once you got lost in the view of her hand as she held her glass. The second she noticed your eyes fixed on her, you were thankfully saved from her most definitely coming over to tease you, by your cousin Clint, bored out of his mind and equally in need of leaving as soon as possible, even if for very different reasons than you. Ok, maybe him being the person talking to you didn’t exactly make him your savior, he was the person Natasha had gotten the closest to after all, which meant that, as soon as she once again turned to get a peek of your outfit she particularly appreciated, he immediately called her over, most definitely hoping to lure her away from the party. She couldn’t have been more obvious with the way her eyes kept ranking your body head to toe as she listened to his frustrated rambling, but thankfully Clint’s desperation blinded him from noticing the less than innocent way in which her gaze was on you.

“I’m begging you Nat, I’ll get on my knees! Just one!”

You both couldn’t help but chuckle at the grown man’s antics, when you suddenly realized that you had no idea of what the hell they were talking about. You barely had the time to open your mouth to ask them directly, when, of course, she interrupted you without a care to keep talking to her friend.

“Fine, but I’m taking half of it”

As soon as the first word barely left her mouth he was throwing his fist in the air and putting his coat on to go to the guest house she was staying in with you. Because of course you had been placed in the same room, in the small guest house in the backyard that only consisted of one room with one bed. You didn't know why, but everyone apparently thought of you two as some sort of best friends just because you both went to the same uni, despite, again, the known fact that you did not have one single class together, lived in different places and had completely different friends, meaning that you only saw each other when she called you over or randomly popped up at your place to fuck, but of course they didn't know any of that.

“A quarter..”

He was already leaving once he spoke his final words, leaving her alone with you to shake her head at her friend’s antics.

“Fine”

You hated how easily she seemingly had you under a trance as she murmured the word while smiling to herself. She was able to put you out of it equally fast, though, as she turned to you to regard you before leaving the celebration to follow after Clint.

“Are you coming?”

Her almost soft tone had to have given you some sort of whiplash as you stood there, looking at her without being able to utter a single word for a second, before regaining control over your own mind, and sanity, once you noticed her lips starting to curl into her usual mischievous smirk.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna stay here a bit longer”

She was once again putting at risk your ability to talk as she ran a hand through her short hair to get it out of her face and moved closer and closer to you, sneaking her gaze towards the other side of the room where most people had moved to, before reaching behind you to get a snack from the table you were leaning against, pressing her front against yours and letting your feel a certain something poking your lower belly.

“I’ll wait for you then”

She looked way too pleased by your slightly widened eyes as you tried to contain your emotions in order not to draw any attention to the two of you.

“You’re packing?”

Her brows furrowed as you whisper yelled at her, before speaking matter of factly.

“Of course I’m packing, I’m always packing when I’m with you”

She didn't give you the time to respond to her, immediately licking the chocolate off her fingers while shamelessly looking at your cleavage before turning to go to the guest house. She was infuriating, her and her constant horniness. You decided to casually join some conversations here and there for the brief rest of the night, until almost everyone had gotten to bed, including a much more relaxed Clint, and it was just you and your aunt gossiping in the living room. The moment your phone buzzed in your lap you almost had a feeling of who might had been trying to get in contact with you, so you cautiously lifted the screen, in case a certain someone decided to share something a little too private, and noticed she had sent you a picture.

The moment you clicked on it, the initial, brief awe you found yourself lost in at the sight of her posing with her tongue peaking out and the hood of her sweatshirt over her cap, was unfortunately wiped away once you finally read the caption under it. You couldn’t help but mentally facepalm at her dumb words, even if you had to reluctantly admit that the text was successful in making your heart leap at its crude nature.

“Not enough pressure on my ���”

Her finger was pointing to the word “pressure” printed on her hoodie, why did she have to be that way? You knew what she wanted from you, it was all she seemed to be thinking about, like some pussydrunk teen, and the way she didn’t even ask you if you were down for it, expecting you to just indulge her wish, didn’t sit right with you. Who did she think you were? Her whore always waiting for her like a pet?

You locked your phone with a frustrated sigh and got up from the couch, quickly finding an excuse with the immediate questioning you got from your aunt as to why you'd go back to your room so early.

By the time you walked across the whole backyard and got to the entrance of the guest house you were finally able to make out her figure, sitting on the wicker armchair under the small porch with all the lights off, in complete darkness, to hide the very end of a hand rolled cigarette between her fingers and the suspiciously smelly smoke coming from her.

“Your tits look good in that shirt”

You knew it was coming, as soon as you had chosen your outfit, you knew some sort of comment was to be made by her, although it had taken her a bit longer than you had expected. You were wearing a quite simple blouse with a boob window, in reality nothing as scandalous as it sounded, but the complete opposite in Natasha’s eyes. The way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass and the sway of your hips anytime you had walked past her, were just the cherry on top to the main course right below your pretty face.

You barely looked at her as you kept walking by her past the door without acknowledging her words, hearing her chuckle at your usual uptight self. You hated to admit it, but the way she was manspreading, making a bulge under her sweatpants slightly visible, while she casually smoked, had made you even more willing to help her out with her “pressure issue”, not that she needed to know about your enthusiasm anyway. By the time you were just starting to get undressed she entered the room, locking the door behind her and standing against it to shamelessly look at your ass as you leaned down to take your shoes off. As soon as your pants were off too and you were about to slip off your shirt she spoke up.

“No no no, keep that on”

Despite the way too pleased look on her face, you were silently thankful for the piece of clothing still on you in the slightly chilly room. You didn’t even bother to take your warm, ankle high socks off and left yourself fall on your back on the bed, feeling satisfied after noticing her swallowing and wetting her own lips as her eyes stayed fixed on your boobs’ slight jiggling as you had dropped on the mattress. Once you got comfortable on top of the soft duvet, you made sure to look right at her as you slowly spread your legs and immediately started lightly rubbing yourself through the fabric of your own underwear, moaning softly at the light stimulation as a way to tease the motherfucker in front of you. Without uttering a word, she left her spot by the door and walked over to you, stopping at the foot of the bed to grab her cock through her pants and slowly pump it. Pushing down her sweatpants just enough for the dildo strapped to her hips to spring out, she gave you a peak of the beautiful, defined v lines you had kissed over so many times and the bottom of the tattoos on her torso and abdomen you had to admit you loved. There was some ink peeking out from the cuff on her wrist as well, making the sight of her strong hand holding the base of her cock even more pleasing.

“Come here, get it wet”

You wanted to come up at least with a remark at her blunt order, but found nothing but anticipation in you and your body, as if moving by its own accord, immediately left your spot to kneel on the bed right in front of her crotch. You didn't waste any time, you couldn't have even if you wanted to, and, as soon as your lips touched the head of her cock, you tried your best to relax your throat in order to take as much of her length as you could, earning a pleased hum from her at the sound of your gags every time she reached the back of your throat.

“Now that's a cocksucker”

Her words pulled your eyes to her face and found her looking intently at you. The groan that came from her once you stopped bobbing your head to stay still with her cock still in your mouth sent a strong twing of arousal through you as she easily understood what you wanted.

She gently grabbed your head with both hands to keep you in place and immediately started to move her hips to fuck your face. Relishing the sight of a string of spit dropping on the part of your chest exposed by the cut in your shirt, she started pushing even deeper to see just how far you were willing to go for her. The resistance was clear as she pushed a bit more of her cock with every other thrust, until you finally couldn't wait anymore and grabbed her ass to give her a push and hopefully make her understand what she needed to do. With one final thrust she managed to push herself past your tight throat until your nose was touching her crotch. She couldn't help herself and rushed to get her phone from her pocket to snap a picture of you looking up at her with watery eyes as you grasped her ass cheeks through her pants to keep her from moving away. It was only once the need to breathe got the best of you that you pushed yourself off of her, sucking in a deep breath while Natasha stared with hooded eyes at your swollen lips and the spit connecting them to her cock.

“You say you hate me but you need my cock that much?”

You hated so much how true her words were and tried to distract yourself from the thought by lying back down and grabbing her cock now covered in your spit.

“Well, you're obsessed with my pussy so it's even”

She just smirked at your remark, deep down knowing that you were so fucking right. She couldn't get enough of it, all the girls she had fucked and she had to loose it for her stepcousin? Well, she honestly didn't give a shit, as long as you were careful she was going to keep fucking you like the slut she knew you were for her deep down.

“For the first time I've gotta say you're right”

You didn't even have the time to process her words and the shock that they had caused when she suddenly moved your underwear to the side and grabbed your ass tightly to lift your hips and get a taste of you, moaning exaggeratedly at her now favorite snack. Despite the leg shaking orgasm you knew she would've easily gotten out of you with her mouth, you pushed the delicious thought to the side and firmly grabbed her hair to lift her from your center.

“Right now I need your cock balls deep in my pussy, not your mouth”

Her lips looked way too delicious as they glistened with your juices and as they curled up she suddenly left go of your ass, making you yelp as you fell back to your lying position, before grabbing your thighs and pushing them to each of your sides, waiting for you to keep them there yourself with your arms to fully open yourself up for her. From the position you had a clear view of her strap as she rubbed it over your wet folds before finally pushing its head inside of you. She could never get enough of seeing your reaction at her entering you for the first time and once again, she couldn't help but keep her eyes on your face from the first moment. She fucked you just with the tip for a bit in order for you to get used to her and, gradually pushed more and more inside as you rubbed your own clit. You knew you were very far away from everybody else, but you still tried your best to keep your volume as low as you could, making her smirk at the clear signs of your struggle to do so.

“More, go faster”

She loved it every time when your uptight, moralist voice turned in a second into the pathetic begs of her own cockdrunk whore and who was she to give up the chance of fucking her personal pussy when she asked for it? After lifting up her hoodie a little to get a better view of your center begging to be filled up more and more, she firmly grabbed your waist, gradually thrusting faster and harder until she had set a pace that knocked your breath away every time she pushed her hips forward and her tip stroked your g spot so deliciously a deep sensation quickly started to build up inside of you. Her flexed abs and veins popping up on her hands made the pleasure she was making you feel, become even stronger, getting your orgasm closer by the second. It honestly amazed you how fast she was always able to make you cum and, despite not wanting to show her any weakness, you admittedly always felt a little self conscious because of it. You could barely keep it anymore, though, it was going to happen in a matter of seconds and your mouth opening in shock told her everything she needed to know.

“Wait, I think I'm gonna-”

You didn't have the chance of finishing your sentence before an earth shattering orgasm hit you so strongly that small, clear droplets spilled out of you every time she pulled back.

“Holy shit”

She panted the words to herself before swiftly pulling out completely and quickly rubbing her fingers over your clit, making you moan loudly as you squirted even more for her while you rode out your orgasm. By the time you were done, your legs were a little shaky and you were almost sobbing from how intense and quick it all was. Once you looked back at her, though, you knew you would've gladly done it as many times as she wanted. Her abs were a little wet from your orgasm, with a couple of drops still lingering on her tattooed skin, and, once your eyes locked with hers, she looked like the most dangerous predator eyeing its prey, ready to eat it in one bite, and, god, wasn't she going to do exactly that.

After all, maybe Thanksgiving was actually going to be even better with her.

.

.

.

Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow smut #marvel #mcu

[gentaro-kinniecom]

Love and deepspace hcs!☆

Characters: Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne

C/w: none! Fluffy head canons for the main love interests in game!

A/n: hi guys! It’s been quite a long time :) i hope everyone has been doing well! Recently I’ve been obsessed with this game, the graphics and art is so good..hope you all enjoy!

Rafayel;

Apart from being sassy, deep down Rafayel loves your company. You’re the only one who stands him, despite his “bratty humor”, and more so how he wants to be your center of attention 100% of the time

Rafayel adores aquarium dates, or ones that involve his art, like an art exhibit that he meticulously prepared with his entire being. He thinks you’re cute whenever you point at one of his paintings; the same one that he dedicated for you

The only thing he expects from you the most is your time and dedication like said before, although, he loves it when you buy him things like fruits or ocean-themed plushies (even if he doesn’t admit to having 5 plushies on his bed)

Rafayel will definitely tease you by saying he didn’t get you anything when he’s not even trying to hide the jewelry box behind his back. Which in fact, is filled with family heirlooms and things like jellyfish inspired earrings or a whale bracelet..he intends in marrying you one day so it means a lot to him how you accept it!

Has the most exclusive nicknames for you, like his flower, the shine of his eyes, his ocean pearl..they’re mostly related sea terms but nothing out of the ordinary.

Xavier;

Always has a spare set of pijamas whenever you come over to stay during the night. Sometimes, he’ll match with you while in others, Xavier wears little clothing if it’s a hot summer night

His favorite type of dates is going to the observatory during a cold night, especially if he gets to share a blanket under the stars with you

Xavier is more of a simple guy, he doesn’t like over the top expensive gifts and would prefer things like flowers, a new bedsheet set, plushies…

However, when it comes to gift you things, Xavier would do anything (even if it was impossible to do so) like bringing down a star from the night sky for you. He opts in giving you a star/sun necklace that matched with his moon one

Xavier isn’t used to calling you his, although it’s cute whenever he gets shy, holding your hand while walking under the stars whenever he gets the chance to do so. But his favorite nickname is “his star”

Zayne;

Even with his busy schedule, Zayne makes time for you, or invites you to spend lunch with him. After all, he was pleased to see you smile while interacting with the restaurant’s cat.

He loves outdoor dates since he’s cooped up in an office most of his time, although Zayne wouldn’t mind inviting you to a restaurant or going to an arcade during the afternoon

Zayne loves to give you jewelry, simple things like charms for your bracelet or rings that end up matching with his and he will never ask for anything back. He actually dislikes seeing you spend money for him, after all, he wouldn’t hesitate to spoil his beloved

Even if he hates it when you spend money on him, Zayne is fond of flowers and keeps some in his home. You also buy him a phone case with a small cat design because his phone is in need of one.

Loves calling you his beloved, even more behind closed doors. Nicknames like my love, dearest, darling are his favorites for you

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #zayne x reader #zayne #xavier x reader #xavier #rafayel x reader #rafayel

[cleoluvrr]

strawberry shortcake (rafe cameron x reader)

got sent home to change 'cause my skirt is too short.

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, non!con, dub!con, spanking, use of belt, victim-blaming, manipulation, degradation, explicit language, depiction of explicit sexual acts

word count: 9.1k

masterlist

you and rafe were…complicated. you’d known him just as long as you’ve known his sister, and yet, you’d never had a particularly great relationship.

your father worked closely with the cameron family. he and ward met each other in college, but went their separate ways after graduation. ward returned to the outer banks after a few years of living on the mainland, slowly making a name for himself as a real estate developer. your own parents moved back to charlotte after graduating, meeting at school and getting married in their hometown. raised in the city, all of your family was there, and all your friends were there. 

one fated day, your parents decided that your entire family was going to pack up and move to the outer banks. you were eight years old at the time, so of course it felt like your entire life was falling apart. everything you ever knew was going to be miles and miles away just because your parents said so. 

it felt so sudden, so unexpected. as far as you were aware, there was no one you knew in the outer banks. your family had a beach house there that you would visit every other summer, but that was all. to you, they might as well have said that you were moving to a deserted island with zero human interaction.

the moment you arrived the summer before you started third grade, it was a complete culture shock. you were used to living in the city; busy streets, skyscrapers that kissed the clouds and lit up with the colors of the rainbow, and so many people that you’d never see them more than twice. kildare was the complete opposite. you could drive across the entire town and back in under two hours and the tallest building in town was a church. everybody knew everybody, and every person had their place.

you only found that after your parents were pulled over by a police officer while driving around figure-eight. it wasn’t too often people that looked like you drove around the “nice” side of town in a shiny, new car. not that they’d never seen it, but they knew all the people that did, and nobody in your family was one of them. you couldn’t count the number of times someone had asked if you were lost or ‘supposed to be here’ when playing around your front yard, taking a walk, or existing in any public place on figure-eight.

your parents allowed you a week to adjust before they threw you into the merciless waters of small town social politics. 

the first time you were properly introduced to the cameron family was during sunday service. you didn’t grow up going to church despite being from the bible belt, mostly because big city life didn’t revolve around it as much as it did in kildare. your parents forced you out of bed early in the morning to get ready, your mother all but stuffing you into the best sunday dress you owned. like any eight-year-old, you complained about it. you hated blue, but your parents insisted on all of your outfits being color-coordinated. the mary janes and frilly socks made you feel like a little kid, but your mom wouldn’t budge on it.

begrudgingly, you sat through an hour long sermon in a church filled with flamboyantly dressed rich people. and then you sat through another hour of brunch with the camerons and their friends, even more annoyed than you were sitting through service in the hot, old chapel.

ward and your father had kept in contact over the years, and it was a couple years before the move that the two of them became business partners. your dad became the cameron family’s lawyer, and it was easier to actually be in the same place as them rather than hundreds of miles away. your mother didn’t mind the move; in fact, she was excited. she worked as an oncologist back home, and the lack of them on the island meant there was great demand for her work.

it was there where you met sarah cameron, the girl that became your friend at first sight. she was younger than you, but at that age it really made no difference. the little blonde girl was excited to meet someone new and declared that you two would be ‘best friends forever just like your dads. though it took some warming up on your part, ever since that day, the pair of you have been attached by the hip.

rafe, however, not so much. 

“hey, sarah?” you called out to the girl standing across from you, her surprised eyes wide as they snapped towards yours after being pulled out of the conversation with her boyfriend. 

“yeah?”

“could you tell your brother to fuck off?” a smile lit up your face as the question slipped from your gloss-covered lips. “please?”

you had come over to sarah’s house a few hours ago, the girl inviting you to attend a large party that her parents planned every summer for the fourth of july. at first, you weren’t too keen on coming, but the two of you hadn’t spent much time together this summer and you felt too guilty to turn her down. this was the summer before you left her for nine months to attend college, and  even though you didn’t want to come, you did it to make her happy.

the moment you stepped foot onto the property, rafe buzzed around your ear like a common house fly with comment after comment on your appearance. 

“what’s the matter, princess?” rafe speaks up from his spot just a few feet away. his head quirks to the side, a look of faux-concern covering his face. “stick up your ass a little too big today?”

topper and kelce chuckle at the comment, attempting to hide the sound by clearing their throats when they catch the dangerous cut of your eyes. your gaze meet rafe’s again and you watch as he raises the whiteclaw to his lips, the white can covering the smirk on his face as he takes a sip.

when you first met rafe, he was nice enough–very cordial. the boy was only older than you by a a year, but he acted as if the difference was so significant that he couldn’t be seen around you. he wasn’t necessarily shy, but every boy that age was concerned with catching cooties. it was impossible to keep his distance, though, especially since your dads worked together and you were constantly over their house. you and rafe maintained a somewhat friendly relationship with each other for years–never getting as close as you and sarah, but it was amiable. 

that all changed when you got to the eighth grade.

the older boy had started his first year of high school, while you and sarah were still in middle school together. 

the difference in maturity was beginning to have an affect on your relationship with both of them. you were turning fourteen and sarah was turning twelve; it felt like you were in totally different worlds. she was starting to become more of a little sister to you than a friend, but you loved her no less than before.

rafe was only fifteen, but he was in high school now. he hung out with guys older than him, and that meant doing whatever to impress them. he had completely brushed you off as a ‘little girl,’ and acted like you were a burden to have around if you were at tannyhill while his friends were there. 

it hurt you at first. you knew the two of you weren’t close, but to be completely disregarded for people he barely knew didn’t make you feel great about yourself. 

you were naive to believe it’d be any other way.

when it was your turn to enter high school, you felt alone. sarah was still in middle school, and rafe treated you like dirt on the bottom of his shoe. it was like you had to start all over now that you didn’t have either of them to cling onto. it wasn’t hard for you to make friends, but you still felt alone without your best friend–and betrayed by her brother.

“rafe, stop! you’re being an ass.” sarah shoves her brother, eyebrows furrowed as she scolds her older silbing.

“what? it’s a joke, chill out.” rafe barely stumbles from the shove. his eyes remain on you, not even sparing his sister more than a second of a glance. “she can take a joke. right, y/n?”

“of course i can take a joke, rafe!” you tilted your head in the same manner as he did just a few moments ago. “remember that time you asked me out senior year? that was really funny.” 

a smile grazed your lips softly as you watched him freeze in place for the briefest second before regaining composure. both his friends and sarah snorted at the quip, catching onto the implication. nobody noticed the look shared between you and the oldest cameron, nor the rise in tension.

it was the summer before your junior year and rafe’s senior–two weeks before midsummers, to be exact. rafe hadn’t let up on what was the borderline bullying he’d been subjecting you to since you started high school; in fact, it had only increased that summer. you were at the cameron’s house almost everyday with sarah, and her brother didn’t spare you a moment of peace when you happened to come across each other on the property–or off of it.

rafe spotted you alone by the dock, tossing rocks into the water as you stared into the dimming light of the july sky. you knew it was him approaching because his feet were heavy against the twigs lining the ground, not light and nimble like sarah’s. 

“y/n,” he called out from behind you, towering presence warm at your back. he sounded nervous, which struck you as odd. when he spoke to you, his voice carried the weight of condescension or irritation–never the champagne bubbles of anxiety. it was obvious he was trying to disguise it, but you knew him too well for it to work. “can we talk?” 

you responded with a disinterested hum, throwing the last rock into the water before turning to face him. you expected him to say something stupid, the sole purpose of him catching you there alone to bother you until you went back to your own house.

what you were not expecting, however, was for him to confess his feelings–feelings for you. you could hear your ears ringing when he asked if you would go with him to midsummers, brain sparking up with disbelief and agitation at the sound of the words leaving his mouth.

there were no second thoughts when he was met with firm rejection. 

you weren’t sure why it caught him by surprise considering he’d been treating you like shit for three years, but he acted as if you shot him at point blank. though you never told anyone, you had a crush on him at one point as well. it began to feel more like hopeless pining after he began to treat you like an incessant fruit fly, which is why you got over it–for the most part, at least.

that’s when the mistreatment from him became a feud on both ends. you felt justified in your feelings towards him, and rafe having the audacity to be mad at you for turning him down only fueled the fire. 

the oldest cameron sibling had his own issues, ones that made him quick to anger towards everything and everyone for no reason, especially you.

“you think you’re funny, huh?” the blonde looks displeased by his friends’ reactions, jaw clenching in annoyance. he could dish it, but he couldn’t take it.

“as if you know what that is.” you raised your brows at him, a smile still covering your face. you reached out a hand towards him, palm landing gently on his broad chest in a false gesture of comfort. “its okay, rafey, not everyone is made for being funny. stick to being useless, okay? you’re amazing at that!”

shoving past the blonde, you walked in the direction of the house after telling sarah you were going to sit inside for a moment to hide from the heat. the coastal carolina humidity was taking a toll on you, and rafe’s presence was only adding to the irritation. 

you took your time walking around the house, the massive interior surrounding you on all sides. the sound of your shoes softly tapping against the ground was the only sound filling the air, the commotion of the party outside left behind the further you ventured. your feet carried you up the grand staircase gracefully, hips swaying with each step until you reached the top.

the mansion was not unfamiliar. you and sarah had run these halls together countless times over the years, no room left unexplored by the two of you–including rafe’s. 

out of curiosity, your eyes drifted in the direction of the boy’s bedroom. the door had been left wide open for anyone to walk in, and there was an invisible force pushing you to enter. it’s been years since you’ve explored it, the last time resulting in being caught by its inhabitant. memories of you and sarah snooping around his drawers flashed through your mind, rafe coming in and cursing the two of you with colorful words you’d never heard in-person before.

this time, rafe wasn’t here to stop you. he was far too occupied outside with his friends to interrupt your impulsive decision to explore his room once more.

you shuffled towards the open door of his room, head peeking into the empty space before stepping inside. the room hadn’t changed much from the last time you saw it; it was still reminiscent of a teenage boy, just much cleaner. your feet softly padded across the floor to the window on the opposite side, staring out of the window at the crowd below. 

the music was just barely audible through the thick glass, the little ants of people wandering around with cups in hand as they interacted with each other. eyes scanning the crowd, your brows furrowed together in confusion. kelce, sarah, and topper were right where you left them, but rafe was nowhere to be found the longer you searched over the attendees.

“maybe he left…” you said to yourself, shoulders raising in a weak shrugging motion.

“who?”

you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of the voice appearing in the background so suddenly, a scream bubbling in your throat before you turned around to meet it’s owner. the sight of rafe cameron standing in the doorway barely did anything to calm your nerves, his stern face and crossed arms only making you anxious.

“y’know–i could’ve sworn i told you to stay out of my room?” his blue eyes bored into yours, gaze unrelenting and intense as they awaited an answer for your presence. 

“what are you doing in here?” you were tempted to pinch yourself as the question slipped from between your lips. 

“this is my room,” he said pointedly. “what are you doing in here?”

you shrugged again, the nervousness that filled you moments ago dissipating the longer you faced him. the worst thing he could do is tell you to get out, there was no reason to feel anxious about his appearance. you pushed yourself off the window frame you were resting against to walk towards the door, ready to make your exit now that you’ve been caught.

“not going through your shit, if that’s what you’re worried about. i was bored–now i’m leaving.” you were at the halfway point of his room, eyes rolling nonchalantly as you brushed him off. “what are you doing?”

rafe entered the room fully, a look of mischief shining brightly from behind his eyes as your own flickered to the door that shut behind him with a soft ‘thud’. you could feel your brows pinch together ever so slightly at the sight before you met his face again.

you didn’t flinch when he began to approach you with slow, rhythmic steps. his legs were long and he could have easily made it to you in just a few but he deliberately took his time walking in your direction, each soft noise of his shoe hitting the ground spaced a second apart. 

“what for? not like you have anywhere to be,” his hands were stuffed into the pockets of his shorts and his head tilted to the side in a feigned curiosity that was clearly heard through his voice. “actually–i think we need to talk…”

the blonde stopped barely a foot in front of you. he wasn’t quite invading your personal space, just pushing against the boundary lines of it. your eye twitches involuntarily, but you say nothing.

pushing the boundaries was something rafe had been doing for a while. mentally and physically. it was part of what further pulled the string of tension between you two.

maybe it’s because he’s a guy, but there wasn’t a day you could go seeing rafe without him making comments on your body or touching you without permission. your chest, your backside, your lips, your eyes–there was nothing spared from his overtly sexual thoughts. you weren’t sure if he was doing it solely to piss you off or make you uncomfortable, but being either one did nothing to discourage him. 

in fact, it only served as motivation for him to continue.

it had been more times than you could count that rafe had groped you and claimed that his hand slipped–that you were overreacting. sometimes he wouldn’t even deny it; he’d blame you for wearing a too-short skirt or a top so small that ‘you had to have been wanting the attention or you wouldn’t have left the house like that.’ he had a habit of standing uncomfortably close to you, so close that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back or the hair on his arms tickling your own.

you just brushed it off as him being obnoxious, slapping away wandering hands and giving quick-witted responses to the suggestive remarks. guys his age were assholes and because of how long you’d known him, you never let it bother you too much. or at least, you refused to let him know that it bothered you.

“i don’t think so, rafe.“ you eyed him suspiciously. “what could we possibly have to talk about?” your arms raised to fold across your chest, fingertips cold from the air-conditioning as they rested against your bare skin. 

if it weren’t so hot and sticky outside you would have worn pants, but the frilly, pink skirt adorning your bottom half was far too tempting to pass up in this weather. you could feel the goosebumps rising over your entire body from the coolness of the house.

rafe just stared for a moment. you could see the synapses firing behind the blue of his irises, and the sight unsettled you. the feeling of his eyes raking over your frame did nothing to shake the discomfort either.

“your attention-seeking behavior. your disrespectful attitude.” his gaze flittered back up to meet yours and you could make out the ghost of a smirk wash over his features. “it's becoming a problem, don’t ya’ think?”

“what?” that was not on the list of things you were expecting him to say. you couldn’t help the amused laugh that escaped your lips in a breath. “what the fuck are you talking about right now?” 

“what am i talking about?” his dark blonde brows come together in an expression of concern–one you were sure he was faking.

rafe’s tanned arm reached out towards you, long fingers grabbing a braid from your head and twirling the end around the digits. not abnormal behavior, but you still squinted at him anyway.

“you must be the stupid one if you don’t know what i’m talking about.”

a scoff left your mouth and your hand lifted to smack his away from your hair. your eyes nearly strained out of their sockets from the amount of restraint it took not to roll them, lids blinking away the urge that fought against them.

“bye, rafe.” your path was blocked when you tried to move around him, the tall man following your step before you could even finish making it. “move!”

he caught the hand raised to push him out of the way with ease, the strength in his grip restrained but still felt as it surrounded your wrist. every attempt to take it back into your possession failed, your opponent unrelenting.

startled, a gasp left your mouth when you were pulled forward roughly, rafe’s body pressed tightly against yours as he brought his free hand to rest on your lower back. the ghost on his face was now living, a grin widespread over his lips that showed off the whites of his teeth as he stared down at you. 

“stop touching me, you’re being a creep.” you didn’t raise your voice at him, but you were firm in your demand.

“oh, please,” he rolled his eyes at you, as if you were the one acting out of line. “i think you want me to touch you.”

the hand that rested on your back fell even lower, the entirety of his hand capturing your ass in its grasp. you inhale sharply, the roughness of his fingers squeezing down causing you to jerk forward in an attempt to escape. you were met with rafe’s warm chest trapping you between him and the hand gripping your backside through the fabric of the skirt keeping it covered.

“rafe!” you said loudly. “what the fuck is your problem?”

it’s not like he hadn’t touched you there before; he’d done it plenty. but those were only light brushes in passing or pinching you when you weren’t paying attention. things that he could pretend never happened, things that you could brush off as him being annoying.

this was not that.

“you walk around town in these itty, bitty skirts,” rafe’s smile was gone now, the mischief behind his eyes remained but it was mixed with something else–something you didn’t feel too keen about. “like you own the place–walking around my house like it’s yours. always acting like you’re better than everyone. like–like you’re above all of us. do you think you’re better than everyone, y/n?”

you shook your head at him, doing the best job you could muster at remaining calm despite the alarm bells ringing in your head. the free hand you were using to push his hand away from your ass was useless; he wasn’t budging. however, even with the little voice in the back of your mind telling you not to, you couldn’t help but to give a smart-assed reply.

“i don’t think i’m above everyone, rafe,” the corner of your lips twitched as you fought back the smile that wanted to appear. “just you.”

he chuckled at that, but not because he found it funny. it was obvious by the way his face darkened, which is what queued you into thinking that you should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

relief filled you when he released the clothed flesh of your behind from his vices, but only momentarily. your feet stumbled over each other clumsily as rafe walked forward with purpose, forcing you backwards until your the crease of your knees hit the bed. you remained standing, but if he were to push you again you’d certainly lose your balance.

the oldest cameron sibling was much…larger than you remembered. you saw him practically every day, but you couldn’t recall his biceps ever being this big as your hands held onto them to stabilize yourself. you’ve never felt intimidated when standing near him, but as you craned your neck upward, all you could feel was the fear bubbling in your stomach. faced with his towering height, he could easily overpower you if that’s what he wanted to do–and you had a feeling he did.

a chill ran down your spine.

“you come over here every day wearing practically nothing, swinging that pretty ass in my face like a fucking tease, and then treat me like you don’t know who you’re talking to.” he shakes his head in faux-disappointment, the sound of his tongue tutting against his teeth filling your ears. “i told you to stop doing it, but you refuse. if you weren’t begging for attention, you wouldn’t act like that.”

“are you being serious right now?” you were in complete disbelief. the fear in your stomach remained, but a pang of vexation was thrown into the mix. “the last thing i want is your attention, rafe. i already turned you down once–stop being weird about it. just ‘cause you can’t keep your dick in your pants doesn’t make me the problem.”

the tall blond’s eye twitched, lips raising like hackles as he all but snarled at you. 

both of his hands dropped suddenly, giving you zero time to react as he gripped the bottom of your skirt in his hands and yanked it upwards. a sound of surprise rolled out of your mouth and rafe took advantage of your shock to spin you around and push you face down onto the bed. your body barely bounced once before rafe was seated on the mattress next to you, strong arms reaching over to grab your legs and throw them over his lap haphazardly as he pinned your arms behind your back.

you felt him lean his upper body against you and apply force, preventing you from lifting yourself up off the bed and leaving you completely at his mercy. 

“rafe!” you scolded as he hiked up your skirt even higher and exposed you further. his position under you left you unable to lie flat, back arched uncomfortably with your pelvis resting on his muscled thighs. panic was beginning to fill you. “rafe, stop! what are you doing?”

he doesn’t respond, a bump silence filling the tense air. you could feel the heat of his scrutinizing gaze, unable to control your squirming as the warmth of his hand palmed at your barely covered skin. he massaged at the soft flesh, squeezing it between his fingers like he was being entertained by putty.

“you look so pretty in pink.”

a yelp escaped your lips when he brought his hand down against your ass with a resounding smack. he repeated the action on the other side with the same amount of force before half-assing an attempt at massaging away the sting. you hissed from the pain, his rough groping doing nothing to ease the feeling.

he hums to himself, hand pulling away to deliver another blow. you cursed at him, leg kicking up out of anger but able to do any real damage.

“y’know,” rafe says and you couldn’t help but huff in anger. “you brought this on yourself. we wouldn’t have to do this if you were just a nice girl.” you could hear the disappointment dripping from his voice and it enraged you.

“maybe i’m not nice to you because you’re a fucking dick.” he smacked you again. “fuck! stop, rafe!”

“and you’re a loud-mouthed bitch who needs to learn that actions have consequences.” 

if you thought he wasn’t holding back before, you were proven wrong. 

he spared you no second to recover from the barrage of smacks that he bestowed upon you. each time his hand raised, it reconnected just as mercilessly as it did before. all you could hear was the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the bedroom, mind completely encompassed by the fiery heat produced by his palm against your ass. 

you wanted to scream out, cry for help from anyone that happened to be wandering the halls of the old manor. you didn’t though. not because you couldn’t, but because you were scared. scared that if someone did come to help, they would see you bent over rafe’s lap like a misbehaving child. scared that the someone who came to your rescue would be sarah–or ward.

the humiliation would kill you.

instead, you settled on continuing with your demands to stop. you swore at him, threatened him, kicked at him as hard as you could. you tried everything to get him to let up, but he refused. the sound of your voice was nearly drowned out by the deafening sound of your backside being brutalized.

you were sure if someone were to walk past, it could be heard on the other side.

“i’m going to fucking kill you, rafe!” you gritted out through teeth clenched so tight that you could pop a blood vessel. “you’re disgusting!”

the blue-eyed man tutted from above you, abruptly pausing his assault. unexpectedly he pushed your legs off his lap and rose to his feet, leaving you in a heap on the bed. you almost sung out a praise to whatever angel had been keeping an eye on you, finally taking pity on your bruised behind. it felt like you were on fire; face hot, skin sticky with the sweat from putting up a fight, and the site of rafe’s abuse burning from the phantom of his hand.

your eyes snapped in rafe’s direction, pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of metal. he’d taken off his expensive leather belt when he stood up, the accessory folded in half between his hands as his hardened, amused eyes stared down at you. your eyes flitted between his face and the belt in his hand nervously, throat bobbing as you swallowed dryly.

he predicted your movement before you could even make it, moving so fast that you thought he was transported to you. rafe caught your legs as you attempted to crawl away and pulled you back over the edge. your feet landed on the floor but your top half remained pinned to the mattress, a strong hand keeping you in place as you struggled against it.

“change of plans,” he whispered against your ear. you were sure he felt you shiver against his hold from the breath on your skin. “i tried being gentle–well, as gentle as i can be with you. clearly, that’s not teaching you anything. “

“haven’t you heard? corporal punishment is outdated and ineffective.” it was in your nature to argue with him, even when he had you pinned beneath him like a wolf would a rabbit. “i’m not learning anything except for how much of a pervert you really are–not that i didn't already know.”

rafe chuckled at this, very darkly. he pulled away from your ear and positioned himself behind you, the heat of his presence radiating in a way that was almost suffocating. the silence was so loud that you could barely hear the sound of the party outside, blood rushing past your ears thunderously.

you braced yourself, unsure of what his next move would be. however, he made no moves. the blond just stood there behind you ominously, keeping your hands pinned to your back as he watched you noiselessly. the temptation to look behind you was overwhelming, and it was then when he decided to act.

the belt made fierce contact with your sensitive skin the moment your head twitched, the stillness between you no longer. 

it took all of your strength to contain the scream that itched to leave your throat, a pained groan coming out from your gritted teeth. this was worse than his bare hand by miles, the fury of the leather leaving you thrashing with a single lick.

“i think,” he landed another strike to your ass after he spoke. “corporal punishment is very effective. it just takes a little…more to break through girls like you. it’s okay, though, you’ll learn.”

the belt comes down again and you couldn’t hold back the scream this time. 

he gave no time for you to recover, the viciousness of each swat intensifying each time it landed. it was loud, much louder than his hands and in your foggy mind you worried endlessly about what would happen if someone else were to hear.

you don’t move when he lets go of your wrists, body paralyzed from pain and fear. rafe takes hold of your barely there underwear and yanks them down, the fabric pooling around your ankles leaving you fully exposed and hot with embarrassment. he takes no time to look between your legs and quickly returns to delivering your punishment.

the comforter beneath you fell victim to the deathly grip of your now free hands, talon-like fingers digging into the fabric as you used it to brace yourself. tears ran down your face uncontrollably and every muscle in your body was tense from the torment.

“rafe, please!” you cried out, hardly able to form a complete sentence. “ow! stop, stop! i’m sorry!”

you weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for, but you couldn’t take the torture for much longer. you’d fix your mouth to say whatever it takes to get him off of you.

“how many times have i told you to stop dressing like a slut? huh?” you responded with a pained screech. he paired the question with another lashing, your cries for mercy doing nothing to garner any of his sympathy. “and yet, you still do what you please. so i’m going to do what ever the fuck pleases me.”

it felt like you’d been here for an eternity, but it’d probably been maybe twenty minutes. twenty minutes since you walked into his room like a dumbass instead of going to sarah’s like you planned on doing in the first place. twenty minutes wasn’t a long time, and nobody would come looking for you any time soon.

a sob racked through your body at that. your hands reached back to grab at his weapon of choice in a desperate effort to stop the battery, and in response rafe put them right back where they were against your spine.

“you want everyone to see your ass so badly,” the leather slashed through the air and landed on you with a crack. “so i’m gonna give you something to show ‘em.” 

you had been reduced to a pile of tears and tender flesh. rafe’s hands holding you down against the bed were hardly necessary; the both of you knew that you didn’t have the energy to fight back anymore. all you could do was scream, cry, and beg for him to end the attack against your poor ass. the welts on your flesh were beginning to form, you could feel it.

“stop crying.” he says from above you. you could practically hear the sound of his eyes rolling, but he paused the lashings anyways. “begging me to stop but–” he cuts himself off, his silence falling loudly on your ears.

the sound of the belt falling to the floor as he threw it into a random corner didn’t even register to you, the metal buckle thumping against the wall. all you could focus on was the hand between your quivering legs, and the throbbing sensation that you hadn’t noticed before. rafe’s fingers gliding against the wetness of your core made you flinch from being unprepared for his touch.

“you're leaking all over yourself…” shame washed over you in a tsunami-like wave, the feeling amplified by the wet sounds coming from where rafe’s hand meets the junction of your thighs. “i don’t think you want me to stop.”

“no!” you shouted. rafe let out a breathy chuckle as he watched you shake your head desperately against the mattress. “no more! please, i don’t want it...”

he hummed in response, fingers still toying with your dripping heat. they were just barely brushing over your clit, the bud swollen with need and twitching with every ghost-like touch. if you could scream, you would, but all you had the energy to do was whimper pathetically as he held you in place.

“hm, alright.” rafe’s agreeance made you release a shaky breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. “i know what you do want, though.”

you felt his thick fingers grazing your entrance; just the pads of them. he was being a tease, letting you soak in the humiliation of being so adamant on him leaving you alone but having your body betray you. 

he leaned down once again, the softness of his lips tickling the shell of your ear. you swallowed dryly as you struggled to focus on anything other than his torturous fingers sitting idly between your puffy lips. 

“you want me to fuck this little hole open with my fingers,” he hummed again, the vibration of it sending a shockwave through your body. “wanna drool all over my hand with that messy cunt.”

you shook your head, squirming against his hold once again in an attempt to escape his curious fingers. 

“no?” he asked and you shook your head again. “i don’t believe that.”

he only removed his hand from your long enough to flip you onto your back, barely exerting any strength to do so. instead of holding you down by your wrists, you were planted against the mattress by your neck with a firm hand. your own fingers moved to wrap around his arm while his returned to the heat building between your legs. 

you gasped at the feeling of a long, thick digit pushing against the tight resistance as it coaxed you open enough to slip inside. with him between your legs you couldn’t close them–all you could do was lie there pathetically as he did what he wanted. 

“aw, you feel that?” he cooed at you, eyes flickering up at your face briefly before dropping back to his hand. “it slipped right in…i think you can take two, don’t you?”

a whine slipped out at the feeling of a second finger slipping past the barrier of your hole to join the first one. his fingers were way bigger than yours, fitting inside of you more snugly than you were used to. he pulled them out at a snail’s pace, purposefully dragging against your spasming walls before pushing them right back in.

“yeah, you take it real good.” he grinned smugly, clearly enjoying the juxtaposition of the pained look on your face and the way you desperately latched onto his two fingers. “don’t want it, but your pussy’s sucking me in…why’s that?”

you couldn’t answer–not when you were panting like a bitch in heat, trying and failing at catching your breath as rafe stole it away from you. your arousal leaked out over his fingers and there was nothing you could do to stop it. his fingers felt too good, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

he continued with the bare minimum for what felt like forever, probably waiting on you to give in and beg him to fuck you. unfortunately for him, you would never do that. your will was much too strong to do something as desperate as that, and you were basking in enough humiliation as is; you’d never give up the single sliver of pride you had left.

it was rafe who broke first. he said nothing as the speed of his fingers increased, eyes focused on every scrunch of your nose and the whines that forced their way past your bitten lips. the heel of his hand kept making contact with your clit and it made you want to start crying again.

“such a pretty girl,” his eyes raked over your clothed body in satisfaction. something about you having to walk around in the same clothes that he turned you out in got him off, while it made you think about throwing them into a bonfire or burying them in the deepest part of your closet. “getting so wet and needy from me welting up her ass. i think you’re the pervert here, not me.”

“uh-uhn.” you protested the accusation immediately, reaching down the push rafe’s hand away weakly. he looked amused. 

“you’re not?” the blonde moved back to stare at your cunt grooling all over his hand, fingers fucking the mess back inside over and over. “why are you so wet then?”

you didn’t have an answer to that. his fingers pulled out of you completely, using the wetness as more lubrication to spread over your swollen clit. the bucket of sparks in your stomach had long turned into a bubbling cauldron, and the attention to the needy button did nothing but make it burn hotter.

his fingers dipped back inside with much ease this time and you nearly died from the embarrassment. your brain was foggy yet defiant, but your body worked against you by welcoming everything rafe had to offer. 

“no normal girl would get wet from shit like that. screaming and crying, beggin’ me to stop–but look,” rafe shook his head at you, eyes hot as he watched your frame twitch beneath his hands. “you’re squeezing down on my fingers like you want ‘em in there forever.“

he was right. you were screaming, you were crying, you were begging him to stop. now you’re letting him spread you open and getting wet when you should be screaming for him to get off of you. 

what was wrong with you?

you had no time to think about that, not when he added a third finger without warning. a cry filled the air–yours–from the stretch. you were so full. he sped up again, too, treating you with little compassion as he watched ruined your sopping pussy with the thick appendages.

“so pathetic to be this wet for me,” he shook his head at you, lips pulled together in a pout. “you know it too. you should be ashamed.”

you were.

“you’re not even gonna stop me, look at your legs shaking.” he pointed out the way you couldn’t keep still.

he was right; you weren’t gonna stop him. you couldn’t.

the veins in his arms strained with each pump of his fingers, biceps bulging against the tight sleeves of his shirt. you could feel your juices dripping down your ass, your other hole fluttering in sync with the one being stuffed with three fingers. every part of your body was tingling and desperate to be touched, and you were rapidly losing control of yourself the closer rafe brought you to the edge.

he noticed it, too. the way you couldn’t stop clamping down around him, how you unconsciously ground into his palm, the dazed look in your eyes and the desperation in your voice as you lost the ability to hold back.

“look at you,” he said. his eyes were filled with lust, dark and glossed over as he observed your behavior. “ready to cum after putting up all that fight. dressed up in this tiny, little skirt; you were practically asking for this. so disgusting.”

your breath was uneven and you felt like you were going to pass out, mind dizzy and drunk with the forced pleasure. he showed no signs of letting up, digging you out with a fervor that you’d never experienced. the sound of your whining became higher pitched, tears pouring from your eyes as you tip-toed the cliff ahead of you. 

“you’re about to cum, huh?” you nodded your head at him, eyes wide and wet with the lubrication. “yeah? you wanna cum?”

you screamed, but not for the reason you wanted to. 

“no.” rafe pulled his fingers away right before you fell off the edge, leaving your hips bucking against the air as you were denied the release he was forcing upon you in the first place. “you’re not gonna cum unless i tell you to.”

you would have rolled your eyes and protested, but the feeling of his hand coming down against your bare pussy made you yelp. your clit jumped and your nipples were begging to be released from the constraints of your shirt, the pain giving you a kind of pleasure that you weren’t equipped to handle. he did it again, and again. he did it until you were fighting to push him away and close your legs.

“aw, does that hurt?” he pouted at you when you whimpered out some semblance of a ‘yes,’ which was rewarded with another slap. “good.”

it was agonizing; how deliciously painful it was. it was so much–too much. you were becoming dumb, all brain function replaced with the pulsing of your abused cunt. he continued to slap your clit, entranced by the way it twitched and your hole clenched around nothing.

“you want me to stop?” you couldn’t answer; you were too stunned to form a coherent sentence and it made you feel like an idiot. rafe took pleasure in that. “stupid girl, you can’t even say anything. so fucked out and easy for me.” 

you were tempted to push him away and get yourself off, but even through your foggy brain you knew he’d never let you get the chance.

“need to taste this pussy…” he mumbled to himself, not caring if you heard or not.

he dropped to his knees with eyes still focused on you as he blew against your exposed clit, both thumbs spreading your lips open. he wasn’t worried about you trying to escape anymore; not really. it was clear you were too dazed to do much of anything but pant like a dog and take his abuse. 

he finally gave you his tongue after waiting for you to whine for it, the wet muscle flattening against the whole of your sensitive core. the texture of the appendage on your clit had you writhing, legs trapped in his hold and prevented from clamping down around his head.

you trembled as he lapped up your wetness, grinding against his face as he buried himself deep into your wetness. he was like a man starved, licking up your arousal as it spilled out of you in an endless fountain. the plush pillows of his lips encapsulated your clit, sucking on it roughly as he brought his fingers back down to fuck you open. 

your head fell back from the intensity, cries tumbling out of your mouth clumsily as he laved against your rosy bud.

everything was so wet.

“don’t you dare fucking cum.” rafe growled, pulling away from your pussy. his fingers kept going, but he kept his eyes on you now. it was impossible to ignore the way you pulsed around him. “i’m not gonna stop, so you better hold it.”

a broken wail left you and you wanted to curl into a ball. this was just as much of a punishment as being beaten with the belt in the corner, you were now discovering.

“please…” the rope in your stomach was being sawed in half by the second and you weren’t going to last much longer. “i can’t…”

he rose to his full height, staring down at your messy for; thighs covered in sticky precum with your skirt crumpled up at your waist. your skin was hot to the touch and covered in a thin layer of sweat, face wet with tears stains and eyes filled with lust fueled desperation. his fingers worked purposefully in the deepest parts of your pussy that you’d never been able to explore yourself. 

“taking me so fuckin’ deep, princess.” he teased you with his words, his voice only adding difficulty to holding back from cumming all over his merciless fingers.

“rafe…” you couldn’t tell him off; not when you were getting so close, so fast.

“‘rafe…’” he mocked the pleading tone in your voice. ocean blue eyes flickered up towards your own, dark with arousal as he watched you squirm. “you sound so pathetic.”

you could feel your thighs tensing as you tried your best to hold back. you didn’t know what he would do if you came without permission, but it was getting hard to care. his fingers were hitting repeatedly against a spot that had you seeing white and holding your breath. 

rafe let you stay like that for a while, desperately hanging on by a thread as he watched. 

“okay,“ he said, head tilted to the side. “you can cum–but i’m not gonna give it to you.”

“rafe!” you yelped. he pulled his fingers out and delivered a final smack to your already abused clit, smirking at your reaction. 

reaching up towards your face, rafe squished your cheeks together until your mouth was forced open. you audibly protested when he brought his wet fingers to your lips, the smell of your arousal invading all of your senses. your noises of defiance were ignored as he shoved the digits into your mouth. he coated your tongue with the wetness covering his fingers, fucking your mouth in the same way he used your other hole.

you couldn’t stop the saliva that fell from your mouth; it leaked down the sides of your face uncomfortably and you wanted to wipe it away. 

“you can go home later, and rub that dirty little cunt to the memory of this.” you stared up at him wide-eyed, mouth stuffed and clit pulsating at the wanton actions being performed on you. “every time you pick out a skirt to wear, you’re gonna sit on that welted up ass and you’re gonna think about how wet you got from my belt tearing you up.”

he watched you shift uncomfortably on your bare, bruised behind, but showed you no pity. 

the sting of it brought you back to reality, the weight of what just occurred finally coming to your clearer mind. rafe’s hand gripped your jaw and tilted it upwards to bring your attention back to him. the fear that you felt earlier bubbled back up. 

your mouth was relieved from the violating digits grazing the back of your throat. wet fingers slapped against your cheek twice, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to make you wince from the sting.

“still think you’re above me?” rafe asked, face lowering to just mere inches away from yours. you shook your head the best you could, jaw still under the steel grip of his hand. “you–you should be thanking me, really…i’m older than you, remember? your job is to respect your elders, and my job is to correct you.”

you say nothing; not that you could anyway. he lowered his hand, pulling it away from your jaw and resting it on the circumference of your exposed neck. the tall man hummed at you, head tilting to the side like a puppy as he observed your disheveled form beneath him.

“i did it so that nobody else has to, y/n. jus’ looking out for you like i’m supposed to–even though you don’t deserve it.“ you blinked at him, prompting the fingers lying limply at your neck to squeeze as a warning. “say ‘thank you, rafe.’ you can do that right? ‘thank you for looking out for stupid little girls like me.’” 

you gulped away the part of you that wanted to spit out a curse at rafe, resistance vibrating deep in your bones. this had to be more humiliating than being spread out over his fingers, you thought.

“thank you, rafe.” the voice that came out sounded pained, and rafe could tell. he tutted at you, clearly dissatisfied.

“i don’t think you mean that…do you want the belt on your pussy this time?” his eyebrow quirked up at you, amused clear in his eyes as he watched your own widen in panic.

“no! no, i really mean it!”

his free hand landed between your legs again as it delivered the stinging punishment of his palm once more. 

“then fucking act like it.” rafe snarled at you, the heat of your center against his taunting hand. “‘thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re so good to me.’ and you better fucking mean it.” 

“thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re s’good to me!” you cried out weakly. rafe continued to slap at your achy clit with his flattened fingers, wordlessly telling you he wasn’t satisfied with your response. “i’m stupid ‘nd i don’t deserve–ah! i don’t deserve it. i’ll be nice, i promise!”

happy enough with your gratitude, he relented. he pulled his hand away from your quivering lower lips and stepped back, allowing your legs to fall shut and guard your crying, battered cunt from the cool air blowing against it from the ac.

“you’re welcome.”

you watch from your spot on the bed as rafe picks up your discarded underwear from the floor. he shoves the item in his pocket, leaving you bare with nothing to protect yourself. standing from your position on the mattress, your legs wobbled like a young doe before straightening themselves to their full length. 

you’d never felt so violated, so defeated. what made it even worse was the way your body still tingled with need. the feeling was deep inside you, walls clamping down on the phantom of rafe’s manly fingers. he was right, and it brought a cloud of shame that rained down on you. the first thing you’d do when you got home is stuff yourself with your own and pretend they were his. every time you sat down and felt the sting of his punishment, you knew you’d leak just like you were right now.

how could you call him a creep, a pervert? how could you call him disgusting when you were the one making a mess all over him after being held down and beaten?

feelings of guilt weighed heavy on your chest. you could pretend that none of this ever happened, but rafe would never let you forget; there’s no way he’d ever let it go.

shaking away the thoughts plaguing your mind, you pulled yourself together the best you could. a hiss sounded out through the room as you pulled the skirt down from around your waist.

the last thing you wanted to know was how bad your ass and thighs looked, the raised skin evidence enough as it painfully rubbed against the fabric of your skirt. rafe opened the door of his bedroom in a swift motion to reveal an empty hallway, eyes staring pointedly at you. the sound of your swift feet echoed off the floor, legs carrying you the fastest that they possibly could without tripping over each other.

before you made it past the threshold, rafe snatched your arm up into his grip. he leaned down to meet you at eye level, closely examining the way your breathing hitched.

“and stay the fuck out of my room."

#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #obx1 #obx2 #drew starkey #rafe imagine #obx fic #outer banks x reader #obx3 #cleoluvrr fics

[aesthetic-bbyg]

HI I LOVE UR WORKS could I pls request like a mean dom ex bf Luke Castellan x fem reader who just canNOT get over him 🙏 it’s ok tho cuz we can get under him instead 😍 (smutty ofcccc)

DON’T STOP ~ L. CASTELLAN

lowk based of this p link

ex!Luke Castellan x fem!reader

🎀🤍 - It’s been awkward around camp since you and Luke broke up, even worse since you miss him so much..

Oral!fem receiving , Luke being a meanie , teasing , rough&dom!Luke , squirting , sum fluff at the end

EVEN THOUGH HE WAS YOUR EX, AND HE broke things of with you, you couldn’t help but stare at every chance you got. When he was practicing sword fighting with another camper, or when your gazes met at the picnic benches during breakfast.

And Luke hated this. It made his blood boil, those sweet looks you sent him. The innocent doe look as your round eyes widened each time he finally gave in and stared back. The few seconds he actually managed to make eye contact with you he saw that desire that he was all too familiar with swirl in your irises. Then again, it made him chuckle each time you turned away from his strong gaze, shyness overtaking you.

Yet, it made him cocky, knowing he still had that power over you despite breaking things off. It made him want to get closer and see just how much you blushed at his presence. He wanted to feel the way your body stiffened when he touched you, before eventually melting with each gentle caress. It was sick, how much pleasure it brought him to think about messing with you. But, he also couldn’t deny that he had his own desires that needed to be fulfilled. So it wasn’t all that twisted because part of that want for you was because of his own lust and not just his ego.

Even now, as Luke stares at you from across the field, his helmet adorning blue whilst yours red, he could sense that same desire seep from your body. He wanted to soothe that ache he knew pooled under those leggings you were wearing. He took the opportunity as he snuck through the trees like an animal, and saw you, guarding a red flag stuck into the dirt.

If you could even call it guarding. Your back was turned to him, picking at the flowers by your feet, you sat atop of a tree stump nearly dying of boredom. Your helmet and sword had been discarded and rest on the grass next to you. You gasped, feelings sharp tip dig into your back.

“You never learn.” A familiar voice that sent chills down your spine echoed into your ears. “How many times did I tell you, never get distracted.”

“Many times.” You replied, voice weak and small. You slowly turned your head, peeking at him over your shoulder. Your eyes holding that same doe eye look as you stared up at him innocently. He removed the faux sword from your back, squatting down to reach your height. “Luke.”

He took your chin between his fingers and thumb, staring intensely into your eyes. “You’re a stupid girl, y/n.” He leaned his so close that his lips nearly brushed over yours, “But so irresistible.”

You gulped down thickly, “Lu..”

“You’re not gonna be eating dinner tonight, you’re going to stay in your cabin.” Luke demanded, not even asking you, but stating it like it was a fact of the future.

“But—“ You stumbled over your words pathetically, breathing heavily against his pink lips that were so close and yet so far. “Luke.”

“It’s an order.” He stood up, tone cold and harsh as he ripped the flag from the ground and began walking away.

“Hey!” It was the loudest your feeble voice had been the whole interaction, your hands reaching for the sword by your side as he paused. “The whole point of the this game is to not let the opposing team win the flag.”

Luke let out a mocking laugh, turning around to look at your like you were dumb. “What, and you’re gonna fight me for it?”

You knew you didn’t stand a chance against the greatest swordsman of all of Camp Half-Blood, and yet you still allowed the words to slip your mouth. “Yes.”

He shook his head, tossing the flag aside. “Fine.” He readied his sword, pointing at you threateningly, “Have it your way.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, mimicking his actions and sucking in a deep breath. You truly couldn’t go against Luke even if you put all your might into it. You were a fool for even instigating a dual, and that same proclamation ended in you on your stomach, cheek digging into the grass with your sword knocked across the field. Luke held both your wrist behind your back, knees on either side of your hips as his hard on pressed against your backside.

“You’re a stupid girl.” He repeated his mean words from earlier, this time so close to your ear that his breath tickled the side of your face. His grip on your was getting painful, but it felt numb as he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your temple. “You’ll learn one day.”

He stood up, releasing you from his grip as he walked away, picking the flag up and disappearing into the trees. You’re team was going to give you so much shit for this.

THIS IS STUPID, Luke Castellan was your ex. What type of control does he have that you had to listen to him? You’d been pacing around the empty cabin during dinner time for five minutes.

“Aren’t you gonna eat, sister?” One of your siblings asked before leaving, watching you with curiosity as you laid under the covers.

“Not tonight, I feel a little sick.” You lied, even mustering up a fake whine as you gripped your stomach. “Go ahead, I’ll be fine.” And within a few moments, she was gone, and you waited and waited, which left you to pacing. “Fuck this.” You stomped towards the door, deciding that you shouldn’t listen to him, because who was he? Ordering you to do what he wanted.

“Where are you going?” Luke asked smugly as his gaze met yours when you opened the door. “I told you to stay here.”

You stepped back slowly, “I was going to eat.” Your voice had become stronger, but that didn’t mean that your mind felt anymore confident when confronting the son of Hermes.

He shut the door, following each step you took backwards by stepping forward, his smirk very clear, even in the dark atmosphere. “But I told you not go, to wait for me here.”

“Well, I’m not gonna listen to everything you say, Luke.” You stopped, feeling your legs collided again the side of one of the bunk beds. It was yours, and you could tell by the curtains you had Luke nail onto the top for extra privacy. “You’re not my boyfriend anymore.”

He let out another chuckle, something about your words had entertained him so much that he’d revealed his pearly canines. But in a split second it dropped, he hurled at you, pushing you against the bed and pining your arms above your head. You’d be lying if you said that this didn’t soak your panties almost immediately.

“I tell you do things, baby, ‘cause you don’t know how to do them yourself.” Luke whispered into your neck, planting sweet kisses along it’s curve and your shoulder. Then he began sucking, leaving bruises behind and then soothing them by licking gently against the purple skin. “Did I really fuck you so dumb that you just can’t comprehend when someone tells what to do.”

You sigh at his touch, “Stop calling me stupid, Luke.”

He huffed out a laugh, trailing further down your chest kissing at the tops of your tits that spilled out the white tank top you had on. “It’s what you are, I mean, you can hardly form a sentence when I just so much as look at you.”

You whine, “I can speak for myself.” You said in a whisper, tugging at the grip he had on your wrist.

He lifted his head from it’s spot in the valley of your tits. “Then tell me,” He took one hand, still restraining you with the other, “what do you want.” You went silent, brain going foggy as he inched a warm hand under your tank top, under your bra. “I said, what do you want me to do, stupid girl.”

You whined, “Fuck, I want you to eat me out.” Your tone was meant to come out a lot more stronger then it actually did, it nearly sounded like you were pleading.

“Aww, look at my girl, finally learning a new thing.” He cooed, letting go of your wrist and lifting his head from your chest. He caressed your face, eyes lowering down to your lips and inching closer just like how he did in the forest earlier. “I really meant it when I said your irresistible, baby.” He whispered, kissing your cheek, purposely avoiding your lips. “I‘ve missed your taste.”

“Then why have you been a dickhead and ignoring me since we broke up.” You muttered, bringing your now free hands to wonder up and down his toned arms. “You could’ve had me if you wanted me.”

He chuckled, “Trust me, I’ve been doing anything but ignoring.” He squeezed your hip, finally dipping his head to kiss you desperately. It was a messy and hot kiss, full of desire, clashing teeth, and tongue. Your hands had lifted to cup his face, eyes pressed shut as you took in this long awaited make out. Nothing could describe the lust that emitted from the kiss alone, how heavy the both of you inhaled through your nose, refusing to part your mouths and breath.

But it eventually had to come, Luke grew impatient and hungry as he was the first to pull away, dragging your hips to the edge of the bed roughly. He fell to his knees in a heartbeat, pulling off your shorts in one swift move and shoving your panties the side. He then folded your legs just enough so your whole cunt was exposed and openly glistening in the little bit of light that illuminated the cabin.

He nearly came just at the sight of it, leaning down to begin his feverish licking and sucking on your folds. You let out a surprised moan, not expecting him to dive into your pussy like a starved man. Your hand flew to his dark curls, the other gripping the pretty pink sheets you already knew were going to be ruined by the time he was finished.

After all, dinner time was a whole hour and thirty, giving him plenty of time to enjoy his meal without stop. Luke flicked his tongue in and out your hole teasingly before moving to suck on your clit loudly. The noises were disgusting, a sloppy combination of slurping and high pitched moans. He lightly shook his head against you, digging his features into you, his grip on your thighs tightening each time you attempted to push them down.

“Fuck, Luke, don’t stop, don’t stop!” You moaned, legs trembling at the way he worked his tongue against you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You nearly screamed, your grip on his curls painful but he didn’t even mind it. He didn’t even flinch as you began to leak milky cum from your cunt, he just continued to lick at your sensitive bud. You did everything in your power to try and get him away, pushing at his shoulders, gripping his arms, shoving away his face, letting out choked whines of surrender. “I can’t—“ Each feeble attempt in getting your point across was interrupted by your own moans and squeaks as he brushed over your overstimulated clit.

You’re pussy was probably a mess of spit, cum, and arousal mixing together, yet something about that was so addictive to Luke. It wasn’t like he didn’t hear your pleas, or that he was ignoring them, he truly couldn’t pull away. He was letting animalistic groans each times he swiped his tongue onto your pussy, letting the wetness fill his taste buds.

He couldn’t help it when he just pushed your legs closer to your chest whenever you squirmed and attempted to push the closed. He heard you whines and it only fed his own pleasure, his licks became quicker, more messy if that was even possible. He was out of breath and heaving, yet didn’t pull back for a second, he just kept stuffing his face back into your cunt. He noted the way you nearly screamed whenever he fucked his tongue into and rolled with it, repeating the motion as his nose stimulated your clit.

With that you were letting out the most pornographic moans he’d ever heard come from you. Your attempts to shove him away for noticeably more frantic and aggressive, you’re whines, despite being almost unintelligible, begged for him to stop. There was a overwhelmingly tight coil in your stomach that just felt different compared to your last orgasm, it went from your stomach and moved down in waves. Before you could let another push to his shoulder you threw your head back and gripped the sheets desperately. You heard a gentle squelch, very faint but it made your eyes widen in horror as you sat up at stared down at Luke.

He finally pulled away, wiping away at the wetness that dropped down his chin and onto his neck. He fell back on his knees, a drowsy smirk on his lips and heavy eyelids that stared back at you. You squirted, and all over his face at that. “Fuck.” Was all he could mutter, biting his lower lip as he stared at you. “That was..so fuckin’ hot, baby.”

You blushed, hiding your face in your hands as you groaned. “I made a mess.”

He leaned up, removing your hands and lightly pecking your lips. “A beautiful mess, baby.” He whispered, “I bet I can make it happen again.”

“No!” You squeezed your legs shut, shoving his shoulder as he laughed, gently caressing your thigh. “Dinner is almost over and you need to leave before anyone notices you were here in the first place.”

“I don’t care if they see me, they probably already heard you.” He stood up, making you notice the painful bulge that outline the cargo shorts he had on.

“Oh, fuck, Luke.” You whispered. He didn’t have to ask what you were referring to with your pitiful tone as you stared at his hardened dick without shame.

“Don’t worry about.” He reassured, digging into his pocket to pull out a picture. “I’ve got you to help me out later in the night.” With closer examination, you noticed that it was an old photo that he’d taken months before the breakup. You laid down on a bed, shirt lifted just enough to show your tits, legs spread open with a cock shoved in your cunt.

“You’re dirty.” You slapped his leg, but a sheepish smile betrayed any ounce of annoyance you were trying to display. You leaned down to grab your shorts, but before you put them back on you paused. You looked up at Luke, who wasn’t paying attention as he slipped the photo back into his side pocket, and then at your lap. You stood up and slipped out of your panties, balling them up and offering it to Luke like a present. “You can have ‘em, they’re ruined because of you anyway and it could be useful for helping you later.”

Luke let out a chuckle, not even blinking as he took them and shoved them into his pocket. “Thank you.” He took your waist, his hand trailing down to the plush cheeks of your ass and squeezing the flesh. He leaned into close of the night with a another hungry kiss, except he replaced the painful lust with love and devotion. He regretted ever letting you escape his arms, and knew that he wouldn’t do it again, no matter what. He kneeled down, picking up the shorts he’d discarded and lightly kiss your thigh, you stepped into them, watching with admiration as he dragged them back up.

“I love you.” You weren’t sure if maybe it was too soon to confidently say the words once more but part of you didn’t care.

Luke didn’t know either, but he definitely knew in his whole heart that he didn’t give a fuck. “I love you too.” You walked to the cabin door, feeling a pool of dread as he opened it and slowly let go of your hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You nodded, giving him a smile before he was gone, the door shutting completely with a quiet click.

“Hey, Luke, where were ya?” You heard a fellow camper call out just moments after Luke’s exit. “Didn’t get some dinner before bed?”

“Nah, man, don’t worry.” Luke shrugged it off, he voice getting more faint the farther he went, but you definitely heard him say: “I already ate.”

Natti speaks !!: I actually ended up liking this way more than I thought so a big thank u to the person who sent this request in🫶🏼🫶🏼 Luke Castellan is js to fine and he needs to be stopped.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

#luke castellan blurb #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan smut #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #Natti’s works 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 #percy jackson and the olympians show #charlie bushnell #Charlie bushnell x reader

[houseofceline]

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Stupid Potions Exam

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

Summary: Theo's not the one to tutor anyone but maybe he'll make an exception for a certain pretty girl?

&lt; 3

__________________

“Damn mate you starving?” Mattheo teased as Theo scarfed down a muffin that Lorenzo found in his backpack. 

Theo rolled his eyes as he finished chewing, “Hannah wouldn’t fucking leave my room this morning and made me miss breakfast.” 

“You still seeing her?” Lorenzo questioned with his eyebrows raised. 

“Seeing her is a bit of a stretch,” Theo replied, wanting to throw up at the mention of the girl. Sure she was a good fuck and all but he never understood why she had to throw a fit every morning after. It wasn’t the first time he threw her out in the morning, matter of fact it was everytime they slept together and yet the Slytherin girl still wanted to make a scene. 

“Should’ve seen the look on Malfoy’s face when she cried and looked towards him for help,” Theo laughed, recalling the frightened yet disgusted expression his roommate made at her cries. 

“You’re a gentleman for sure,” Mattheo spoke sarcastically as Theo chuckled at the statement. 

“Yeah definitely,” Theo replied back in the same tone. 

“Mate I’m definitely flunking tomorrow’s potions exam,” Lorenzo sighed as the trio approached the library. 

Theo knew that studying with these two idiots nothing would actually be done, but what else was there to do on a Thursday night? 

“Speak for yourself I’m ready to pass,” Mattheo boasted knowing that they had about the same grade in the class. 

The three Slytherins looked for a place to sit. 

The library was packed, it seemed like everyone in the damn castle was here preparing for some sort of exam tomorrow. 

“Found a spot,” Mattheo spoke up as Theo and Lorenzo followed behind him. 

“Mind if we sit here princess?” Mattheo asked as Theo moved beside him to see who he was talking to. 

Pretty girl from potions. What the fuck was he doing calling her princess?

“Princess? You two dating or something?” Theo teased even though this was the last thing he ever wanted to picture in his head. 

You looked away blushing while shaking your head. 

This was one of the worst ways you could’ve responded to his answer in his opinion. Theo wanted to drown Riddle first and then himself at the thought of you blushing over him. 

You didn’t think much of it. You knew that there were no actual romantic feelings between the two of you. You didn’t have any friends in history of magic and after meeting the two Slytherins they became your only friends in that class. 

Despite not giving Mattheo an actual answer to the question the three boys took seats at your table. 

Theo was quick to take a seat in front of you while Mattheo settled down beside you. 

“Oh we’re all studying for potions?” Lorenzo took a peak at your books. 

You sighed before pouting and nodding. 

“It’s the worst subject to ever exist.” 

Lorenzo nodded in agreement while Theo gasped. 

“Worst? It’s one of the easiest subjects,” Theo scoffed while you and Lorenzo gaped at him. 

“Tutor us then Nott,” Mattheo rolled his eyes as he took out his books as well. 

“No, go ask Malfoy.” 

You giggled at their interaction. 

If your laugh was the first thing you hear when you get to heaven Theo decided he was going to start being a better person. 

“No, Malfoy calls us stupid fucks everytime we get an answer wrong,” Lorenzo pretend to cry while the table next to us shushed him very loudly. 

“Damn okay.” 

“Open your damn book mate, you're the one that’s most likely to fail,” Mattheo said as he started to take notes. 

“Actually that might be me,” you mumbled quietly as you tried focusing on the same paragraph for the thousandth time. You had read it over and over again but it felt as if it was impossible to retain the actual information. 

“You good?” Theo whispered as he watched you stare blanking at the textbook. 

He was doing charms homework. He didn’t think he needed to study for potions as he felt comfortable in his naturally gifted abilities. It was like relying on common sense for him. 

You nodded hesitantly. Truth be told, you were so far from good. 

You were positive that you were not going to pass the exam tomorrow. Your Ravenclaw was not Ravenclawing. 

You couldn’t afford to get another bad mark since the exam would pretty much break or make your passing grade. 

Another lecture about grades from your parents was the last thing you needed when you were still trying to earn their support for your chosen career. 

Theo could tell you didn’t mean it. 

He looked over to Mattheo and pleaded for him to leave. 

He smirked before kicking Lorenzo’s leg motioning towards the two of you and then the doors. 

Thank merlin he got the hint and began packing his things up. 

“I’m feeling pretty tired, I need a nap break,” Lorenzo let out an award winning fake yawn as Mattheo nodded in agreement. 

“We’ll see you guys later,” Mattheo waved before nodding to Theo for good luck. 

Theo definitely owes them one. 

“Here I’ll help you,” Theo offered as he got up and took Mattheo’s seat. 

He scooted your chair closer and placed his arm around the back of your chair. 

You started to feel your face heat up at his close proximity and hoped he didn’t notice. 

He shifted the textbook towards the middle of you two before grabbing parchment and a quill from his backpack. 

“Here take some notes,” he handed them to you as you nodded obediently. 

“Wound-cleaning potion,” Theo began to read out loud to you as you started writing.

“Characteristics are as follows: purple, smoke and stung upon contact.” He listed and waited for you to finish writing before continuing. 

You mentally thanked him for putting everything into simpler terms for notes as you wrote down everything he said. 

Reading through the textbook it was hard to understand what the potion exactly was because it had so many words. 

He continued to read and stop every time he wanted you to write something down. 

In between your writings you couldn’t help but admire his face as his attention was fixated on the book. The dim lighting in the library made his jawline and face features stand out and appear sharper than normal. He looked so pretty. 

“Stir counterclockwise for five minutes,” Theo finished as he turned his head catching you looking at him. 

You immediately looked away and tried to hide your rosy cheeks as you wrote down what he had said. 

It didn’t go unnoticed by Theo as he chuckled seeing your shy state before turning his attention back to the book. 

Maybe another time he would tease you for getting so nervous around him, but tonight his goal was to make sure you passed the exam tomorrow. 

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