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smileysuh · 10 months

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Sunday Sinner

🌙 staring. Mark & Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in Church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

tw/cw. threesomes, inexperienced!Mark, fingering, blow jobs, deep throating, pussy eating, spit roasting, voyeurism, lots of masturbation (especially in the shower), Hyuck has a dirty mouth, sin sin sin, unprotected sex, creampies, cum play, kink for being 'full', religious contention, Mark gets hard during Sunday Service, Mark getting outed as low key virgin, proposition, Mark uses a cross necklace in sinful ways, praise, slight degradation, inklings of corruption kink, squirting, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel. (Mark's) church boy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 12.6k

🍭 aus.frat/uni au, soccer player au, church/inexperienced!Mark, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I've wanted to do a fic about Mark being Christain for a while, but I wanted to make one that was still respectful. This idea popped into my head, and I think it turned out really well :) it's only slight blasphemy.

There’s nothing like a frat party after a big win for the university soccer team. Even though Mark doesn’t really drink, and he’s never smoked a joint in his entire life, it’s nice to be surrounded by happy energy.

His team always laughs at him when he notes how celebrations can feel almost church-like, but the indescribable buzz that fills the entire frat is familiar to the man who’s been going to Sunday Services his entire life.

Mark likes seeing familiar faces, and if he hadn’t been raised in a very big family type of system, he’s not so sure he’d be this okay with crowds, or the number of people who reach out to pat him on the shoulder and shake his hand in congratulations for scoring the winning goal.

It had been a great game, and when Mark’s ball had sunk into the top left corner of the net, he’d run to the side lines to fall to his knees and make the sign of the cross, grabbing at the religious pendant around his neck to kiss it. People have always made fun of him for this tradition of his, but nothing will ever stop him from thanking God - his God - for the fortune life has brought him.

Even now, the necklace is securely around his throat, the cross resting just below his shirt. The cool metal brushes by his skin when he moves through the frat house, a constant reminder of his faith.

Something is drawing him outside, and Mark has always been someone who leans into the feelings he can’t put his finger on. It’s something like divine guidance, and Mark exits the frat to step onto the back patio, where his friends are in a circle around a fire.

It smells like weed, something Mark hadn’t liked at first, but it’s now a scent he’s used to, and he heads over to stand next to his roommate.

Lee Donghyuck and Mark have been friends since high school, where a few ‘less woke’ teachers had assumed - because of their shared last name - that two were cousins, or something of the sort. They’d always been put in group projects together. At first, Hyuck had been too much for Mark to handle, but over the years, he’s come to like the chaotic energy of his closest friend, despite all their differences, mainly, their disagreements on religion.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” Hyuck bellows, throwing his arm around Mark to pull him tight to his hoodie covered side, which reeks of marijuana.

“Church boy Mark!” Yuta grins from across the circle, raising his beer in a mock toast to the man who had won them their soccer game.

“Can he even be here?” a bitchy foreign exchange student from Thailand asks, earning a shove from Mark’s frat ‘big’ Johnny.

“Of course he can be here,” the man from Chicago laughs.

“I just mean-” Ten is quick to correct himself, “we’re playing Never Have I Ever. Are we sure this is suitable for him?”

“Mark plays games,” Hyuck insists, but Mark’s not so sure about this one.

“He doesn’t even have a drink,” Ten notes, looking Mark up and down.

“Someone get him something,” Hyuck says, snapping his fingers at one of their pledges. “One of the iced tea mixes, the low percent ones-”

“Hyuck-” Mark sighs.

“Trust me,” Hyuck assures him, “you hardly do anything with your life, it’s not like you’ll have to drink that much.”

Mark still doesn’t feel too enthused about joining the game, but he supposes his heart led him out here for one reason or another, so he accepts the hard iced tea can Jisung hands him. His eyes immediately scan it for the alcohol content, and he sighs. “This is the same as beer.”

“Come on, church boy,” Hyuck groans. “You’ll only have like three sips, max. Watch-” without waiting for Mark to agree, Hyuck is addressing the circle again. “Never have I ever sucked cock.”

The girls in the vicinity all make sounds of annoyance, raising their drinks to their lips. In the periphery, Yuta also sips his beer, and after a moment and a groan, so does Ten.

“See!?” Hyuck squeezes Mark’s shoulder. “You’re already zero for one.”

“That was a low blow, Hyuck,” your voice draws Mark’s attention. You’re standing on the other side of his best friend, which shouldn’t be that big of a surprise, seeing as you’re Hyuck’s fuck buddy.

Mark takes a moment to assess you while Hyuck rolls his eyes and defends himself. The church goer has always thought you were pretty, and you’re smart too, much too smart for the crazy gemini he has as a roommate.

“Two can play that game,” you warn, raising your voice to announce, “Never have I ever eaten pussy.”

Mark’s skin prickles, panic washing over him as every man around the fire - and even a few girls - drink. The church boy can feel his grip on his can shaking slightly, and for a brief moment he considers having a swig of the hard iced tea just to protect himself, but, well… it would be a lie. And if there’s one thing Mark Lee doesn’t do, it’s lie.

Mark can feel eyes on him as he downcasts his gaze to the ground. His skin is heating with embarrassment, and he just prays to God no one makes a big deal out of this-

“You’ve never eaten pussy?” Jeno yells, and Mark just knows the question is directed at him.

He looks up, lips parting at the shock of being put on the spot.

“Wait, you guys haven’t heard the church camp story?” Hyuck asks, and now Mark’s really panicking. But it’s too late to stop his loose lipped roomie, who is already diving into Mark’s past for the whole circle to hear. “This one time, he fucked a girl at church camp, and a Jesus picture fell off the wall, so he hasn’t even touched a girl since then.”

A few people laugh, and while Mark can understand that - objectively - they’re not laughing at him, but at the story, he can’t help but get defensive.

“It fell off the wall, Hyuck,” Mark insists, voice shaking. “How else do you explain that?”

“I’ve always thought you were just banging that girl too hard,” Hyuck suggests, earning a few sounds of agreement from other frat boys.

But Hyuck wasn’t there when it had happened, and Mark knows for a fact there was no true bed rocking going on. He’d been taking things slow, and the only possible explanation for the picture falling - in his mind at least - is that he’d disappointed God.

He’d done a hundred Hail Mary’s as repentance, and now that his secret has been put out where everyone can hear, he thinks maybe he should do fifty more for good measure.

“I’ve gotta go,” Mark mumbles, handing Hyuck his drink.

Mark’s roommate tries to stop him from scurrying away, but the damage has been done, and the man who scored the winning goal at the soccer game rushes back into the frat house with red ears that betray his shame.

“You can’t still be mad at me,” Hyuck whines, chasing after you as you exit the frat bathroom.

“Why do you assume I’m mad at you?”

“Because I followed you to the toilet and you didn’t wanna smash?” Your fuck buddy manages to pin you to the wall, hands on either side of your head while he looks at you with serious eyes, a contrast to the sentence that’s just come out of his mouth.

“Sometimes a girl’s just gotta pee, Hyuck,” you laugh.

“Don’t play games, angel,” he insists. “You’re mad about the Mark thing.”

“So you admit I have something to be mad about.”

Hyuck lets out a sigh. “Fine, yes.” He pulls away from you, throwing up a hand in defeat. “I shouldn’t have told everyone his stupid Jesus picture story. There, I said I’m sorry, are you happy now?”

“You said what?”

He groans, and in one motion, he’s pinning you to the wall again, his lips just millimeters away from yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, and his eyes drill into your own, “I’m sorry.”

After a moment, you say softly, “I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to.”

“You want me to apologize to Mark?!”

“Among other things.”

Hyuck pulls away, looking you up and down. “You better not be suggesting what I think your horny ass is suggesting.”

“I don’t know,” you smirk. “What do you think I’m thinking?”

“It looks like you’re thinking about going upstairs to offer Mark help with getting over his Jesus sex fear.”

“And that would upset you?” You cock your head to the side, assessing your fuck buddy.

“Angel,” he groans, “you’re mine.”

“Am I though?” you counter. “Am I really?”

When you’d started sleeping with Hyuck, he’d made it clear that he’s not the kind of guy who likes to be tied down to one person. While he can be somewhat possessive, part of your arrangement is that you can both do what you want, and right now, you’re seriously considering fucking the sweet church boy you’ve had a slight infatuation with since year one.

“Fuck the fact that you’re not my girlfriend,” Hyuck says finally. “There are bigger reasons you shouldn’t do this.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Well for one,” your fuck buddy leans in, his lips ghosting by your ear as he whispers, “Mark has a massive crush on you.”

For some reason, you find yourself laughing. Leave it to Hyuck to spill two of Mark’s biggest secrets in the span of one hour.

“If Mark has a crush on me, then I have to do this. You can either join us, or go cry about it.”

Hyuck sighs. “For an angel, you can be a bit of a fucking demon sometimes.”

“And you love it.”

You and Hyuck are standing outside his bedroom. The door is locked when you try to open it, and Hyuck watches you let out a deep sigh before knocking. “Mark? You in there?”

“Of course he’s in there,” Hyuck whispers, rolling his eyes.

“Shh! Be nice!” you chastise him, playfully smacking his arm. Your voice is soft when you call out again, knocking gently a few more times. “Mark? Please let me in.”

The music from downstairs is too loud for Hyuck to hear movement in his room, but after a few moments, the door opens and Mark peers out.

“Oh, it’s both of you.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Mark,” Hyuck nearly laughs, placing his palm on the wood so he can force it open before his friend tries to shut the door again. “I live here too, you know.”

“How could I forget,” Mark sighs, heading over to flop onto his bed.

You and Hyuck enter the room, and he clicks the lock back into place behind him. He watches you approach his friend, sitting on the foot of the mattress.

When you reach out, ghosting your hand over Mark’s shin, Hyuck leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t define himself as a jealous type of guy, but watching you be gentle with Mark is definitely bringing up some suppressed emotions, and Hyuck’s not sure what to make of it.

“Mark,” you stroke his leg. “Hyuck has something to say to you.”

“Huh?!” Hyuck’s eyes widen, and he looks between you and his roommate.

You’re going to make him proposition his friend for you?

“Yeah, didn’t you tell me you wanted to apologize?” There’s a warning tone in your voice, and when you look over your shoulder at Hyuck, you give him an expression filled with expectation.

“Right,” Hyuck coughs. “I uh… I’m sorry for what happened at the fire.”

He can tell by your small eye roll that you’re not fully satisfied with his apology, but Mark doesn’t seem to mind. The church boy sighs, running a hand over his face. “It’s okay,” he mumbles.

“It’s not okay,” you insist, turning your gaze back to Mark. “I’m also sorry for saying never have I ever eaten pussy. I was trying to attack Hyuck and make him drink, but you got caught in the crossfire.”

“You didn’t mean to, though,” Mark says. “I shouldn’t have joined the game. This is a lesson for me, I guess.”

“Aw, Mark,” Hyuck can’t see your face, but he knows you’re frowning. “We wanted you to join the game. We like it when you do things with us.”

It’s interesting for Hyuck to hear you saying the royal ‘we,’ as if you’re a couple, a unit.

“I’m sure the incident with the Jesus picture was very traumatizing for you,” you continue, sounding as genuine as ever while your hand continues to smooth up and down Mark’s leg. “I can understand why you’d be… apprehensive about doing anything sexual after that.”

Mark groans, covering his face with his hands. Hyuck can’t help but smile when he sees his friend’s ears flaring red with embarrassment, it’s always so easy to get the church boy riled up.

“I just want you to know…” you shift a little where you’re seated, moving closer to Hyuck’s roommate, “this is a safe space. If you ever wanted to… try something like that again, there aren’t any Jesus pictures here to knock down.”

“What?” Mark’s lips part with shock, and he looks between you and Hyuck. “Are you two…”

“Propositioning you?” Hyuck suggests. “Yeah, she is.”

“I’m not-” Mark swallows thickly. “I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” you assure him.

“She wants to fuck you, Mark,” Hyuck says, trying to be helpful. “It will be good for you.”

“Good for me?” Mark squeaks.

“You’re a frat boy who’s practically a virgin, dude,” Hyuck nearly laughs. “You’ve gotta dip your dick in the sinful water sometime. What’s life without eating a little pussy?”

“Oh my god,” Mark groans, covering his face with his hands.

“It’s not that bad, Jesus won’t mind, you don’t even have to put your dick in her!” Hyuck can’t believe he’s the one backing this now, but he also can’t really believe his roommate is a near-virgin.

“This can’t be happening-” Mark is still hiding his face, his ears as scarlet as ever.

“Listen, “ Hyuck sighs, “we usually fuck while you’re at church on Sundays. But if you wanted, we could wait a little and let you join after your service tomorrow.”

Mark’s eyes widen. “After my service? Are you two crazy?”

“You don’t have to decide right now,” you assure him. “I’m sure this is a lot to take in, especially after the day you had. I don’t think I’ve congratulated you on your goal in the game today yet-”

Hyuck scoffs at how you could be bringing that up right now.

“Just think about it,” you continue, giving Mark’s thigh a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to go home now, but, tomorrow, if you want to try eating pussy, Hyuck and I will be here.”

Hyuck wonders what would happen if it was just you propositioning Mark. If he’d be more willing to agree. It’s definitely an added level of sin to have Hyuck in the room while Mark rips his virgin bandaid off, but it’s not like Hyuck’s going to leave Mark alone with you.

You’re his angel, even if you’re looking to save Mark.

Mark can’t pay attention to the sermon. His palms are sweaty, no matter how many times he rubs them against his pants. He feels like - at any moment - a big Jesus statue could just fall over and everyone in the church would turn to him, knowing he was the cause due to his sinful thoughts.

What makes it worse, is the way he can feel blood rushing to his cock. He’s half hard at the Sunday service, and he’s never felt like a worse Christain.

This experience definitely trumps the losing of his virginity, if that’s even possible, and he hasn’t even done anything with you yet.

But in the dark, back corners of his mind, Mark knows that will change. He knows he won’t be able to resist you, you’re just too tempting. He doesn’t have that kind of control over himself, no matter how much he wishes he did.

When the service is over, Mark stands on shaky legs, grabbing a Bible to hold in front of his crotch while he exits the place of worship to head back to the frat.

The fresh air does little to calm his nerves. If anything, the closer he gets to his home, the more sinful he feels. He knows each step is one step closer to you, one step closer to religious paraphenia being miraculously moved by the hand of God-

Yet, he can’t stop. He can’t even alter his course, and when he reaches the frat, he doesn’t say one word to the boys kicking around in the kitchen, he heads straight up to his room.

When he gets to his door, Mark pauses. His hands are shaky as he reaches for the knob, and for a second, he wonders if he should knock. Taking a deep breath, Mark decides to ignore his manners, pushing into the room.

He’s almost relieved to find you and Hyuck sitting in his bed, fully clothed, watching something on Netflix.

“Hiya, Mark,” Hyuck waves, as if their relationship isn’t about to be completely altered.

“How was Sunday service?” you ask.

“How was it?” Mark shuts the door behind himself, giving his head a little shake as he hurries over to the closet to discard his jacket. “You know, good.”

“Why are you carrying a Bible?” Hyuck asks, looking him up and down. “Did you steal that from your church?”

Panic shoots through Mark. He had most definitely accidentally stolen it from his church, wihtout giving it a second thought. His mind had been so focused on you and covering his boner-

“I can give it back,” Mark insists, palms sweating again as he places the book gently on top of his backpack.

“You look spooked, dude. Did some pastor try to touch you?”

“Hyuck!” you practically scream, slapping your hand over your fuck buddy’s mouth. “You can’t say things like that!”

Hyuck mumbles something against your hand that sounds like ‘historically accurate,’ and Mark wants to strangle him.

“You want to know why I look stressed?” Mark sighs. “Because you two are sinners who propositioned me last night!”

Hyuck moves your hand from his mouth, smirking. “Come on, Mark, be sinners with us!”

“This is not helping,” you whisper to your fuck buddy, gently pushing his shoulder before you stand from the bed, approaching Mark with an empathetic expression. “I’m sorry about last night, we shouldn’t have pushed that on you.”

“It’s okay,” Mark shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze.

“It’s not, we’re horrible, dirty, sinful people,” you reach out, linking your pinkie with Mark’s. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. “Forget we ever said anything.”

“I can’t forget,” Mark states, finally looking at you. He licks his lips, thinking of something else to say, but all that comes out is “I can’t forget,” and it’s the truth.

You open your mouth, and Mark hangs on what your next words will be-

Hyuck interrupts the moment. “So are you gonna eat pussy or what?”

“Hyuck!” you yell, turning to flash a warning glare at the man who’s giggling to himself on his bed.

Mark doesn’t even want to focus on his friend right now. Instead, he reaches out, taking your other hand gently. He gazes down at your fingers, too scared to look at your face.

“I think…” Mark swallows the lump in his throat. “I think we should do this.”

“Really?” you ask while Hyuck lets out a loud “What?!”

“You’re both right… maybe it will be good for me.” Mark can’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. “But- I’m not sure what I’m even ready for.”

“We can go slow,” you assure him, squeezing his hand. “Anything you’re comfortable with.”

Mark looks up at you. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

Hyuck scoffs loudly, but it’s an afterthought in Mark’s mind when you nod, reaching up to cup his face. “You can kiss me,” you tell him softly.

Mark’s free hand reaches out to grab your waist, and he moves closer. He can feel your breath on his face. He’s never been this up close and personal with you, and you’ve never been prettier. There’s a softness in your expression, an acceptance, and it makes Mark feel confident enough to press his lips to yours.

It’s a gentle kiss - a perfect kiss - and Mark can feel the tension releasing in his shoulders.

You step even closer, and your breasts press against his chest, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your tongue smooths over his bottom lip and Mark stifles a groan, opening his mouth just enough for his own tongue to meet yours.

He can count the number of girls he’s kissed during his life on one hand, including you, but none of them have happened like this. Mark had never imagined he’d end up in this situation before, and despite the calming effect you have on him, he still finds himself pulling away and struggling to catch his breath.

“I want to touch you,” he admits, in fact, he’s been thinking about it all day.

“Yeah?” There’s a sparkle in your eye and you smile at him. “Where?”

Mark can’t bring himself to say it.

You gently take his hand, bringing it to your throat. “Here?” you ask, and Mark traces his thumb over your jugular, surprised to find your heart is racing just as fast as his own. “Or…” you move his hand down, his palm cupping at your breast, “Here?”

Mark lets out a low groan at the feeling of you. He’s touched even less boobs than he’s kissed girls in his life, and yours are absolutely perfect in his hand.

“Mark,” you whimper, and he brushes his fingers over your pebbled nipple, peaking through your shirt. He can feel his cock throbbing in his pants, and he shifts uncomfortably.

“Or maybe…” you move his hand lower, dragging it across your stomach until it reaches your pussy through your sweatpants, “were you thinking of touching me here?”

He nods, still unable to speak as you guide him to apply more pressure to your core. You feel so warm, and a sinful voice in the back of his mind tells him you’re probably wet too. Or at least, he hopes you’re wet, hopes he has the same effect on you that you have on him.

You let out a soft moan, and it’s like music to his ears. You grind down slightly on his hand, wiggling your hips in a motion that’s hypnotizing. “Do you want to…” you bite at your lip, toying with the waistband of your sweats. “Do you want to put your hand inside?”

“God, yes,” Mark groans, finally finding his voice.

You pull the waistband away from your skin, giving Mark access to slip his hand below it. Then your lips find his again, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while he teases his fingers along your panty clad core.

You’re as wet as he’d hoped you would be, and Mark moans at the realization.

He’s only watched porn a handful of times in his life, and always felt bad about it after, but he knows where the clit is, and he gently circles his fingers around the spot.

You gasp into his mouth, and Mark eats up the sound, applying more pressure.

“Fuck, Mark, just like that-” you tell him, threading your fingers through his hair as you deepen the kiss.

You rut your hips, grinding down on his hand, and it drives Mark wild. He wants to touch you, really touch you, without any fabric in the way, and when he opens his mouth to ask, “Can I-” you’re agreeing without even hearing the end of the sentence.

He takes a breath, and then he moves your panties to the side.

The first swipe of his fingers through your pussy lips feels like nothing he’s ever felt before, and the wetness he collects against his skin makes his cock throb again.

He teases your opening, earning more gasps from you as your lips move to his neck. When your mouth makes contact on a spot just below his ear, a shiver runs through Mark’s entire body. He’s heard about sweet spots, but no one has ever kissed his, and the feeling has his eyes closing with pleasure.

Without a second though, Mark slides a finger into your pussy, and you mewl in his ear, holding him tighter. “So good,” you whisper as he slowly thrusts the digit in and out of you, building the confidence to add another.

You're grinding down against him still, and his palm works your clit while his two fingers curl inside of you. The sounds you’re making are increasing in pitch and frequency, and you’re gently pulling on his hair, licking at the spot on his neck that has his body tingling.

He’s never made a girl cum before, but he can tell by the way you’re reacting, that he’s going to get you there. He wants to get you there, more than he’s wanted any goal he’s ever scored in a soccer game.

The cool weight of the cross around his neck has Mark wondering if he’s going to go to hell for this. But can he really go to hell for something that feels this good? This right?

“I’m close,” you tell him. “Don’t stop.”

Mark works his fingers into you even faster, eager to have you coming undone on his hand-

A clinking sound in the periphery makes Mark’s eyes open, and when he looks over at Hyuck’s bed, he sees his friend wiggling out of his pants.

“Dude, what the Hell-” Mark freezes, making an attempt to pull his hand from your pants, but you latch onto his wrist, shaking your head.

“No, Mark, please, I’m so close, please-” There’s a look of desperation in your eye, and it has him swallowing thickly, focusing on you while he picks up his motions again.

“I’ll wait,” Hyuck says in the background, and there’s some comfort in that at least.

“Mark, it feels so good, you’re so good at this-” you praise him, whispering in his ear while you work your hips faster against his hand.

“Oh God-” Mark groans, watching your face contort with pleasure.

“There’s no God here, dude,” comes Hyuck’s snarky voice.

Mark’s eyes begin to shift to his friend, but you cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “Focus on me,” you tell him. “Like I’m focused on you.”

He swallows thickly, breathing deeply as he fingers you harder, earning all sorts of sinful moans that drown out anything Hyuck could ever bring to the situation.

“Yes, Mark, yes- I’m gonna-” You’re gasping now, and you can’t even finish your sentence. Your pussy clenches around Mark’s fingers, your lips finding his as you cum.

He continues his motions, wanting to draw out every second of pleasure that he can-

Mark has heard all sorts of ideas about what Heaven could look like, but he’s never heard that Heaven could be standing in your frat house room, hand down your best friend’s fuck buddy’s pants, with her pussy throbbing around your fingers.

You begin to shake, reaching down to grab at his forearm, and Mark knows you’re finished. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and he pulls his hand away, marveling at the slick that’s covering his digits.

“Here,” you say gently, grabbing his wrist to guide his fingers to your mouth, licking them clean. Then you reach for him, bringing your mouth close to his own. “Taste me.”

Mark’s never kissed a girl so fast in his life, and he groans at the flavour of your tongue. If this is what your pussy tastes like, Mark had missed out by passing up the opportunity to eat you out, but at the same time, he’s really not sure if he’s ready for that yet.

“Okay, you two,” Hyuck’s voice makes Mark draw back from you. “This is enough teasing, I’ve gotta fuck something now or I’m gonna explode. Mark, are you staying?”

The church boy swallows thickly and then he shakes his head. If he’s not ready to eat you out, he’s definitely not ready to watch his best friend fuck you. “I’ve gotta…” he stumbles for an excuse. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Right, shower,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “Have fun with that.”

You go in for one last kiss before Hyuck is pulling you away from Mark, and he watches for just a moment while Hyuck presses his own mouth against yours-

Mark tears his eyes away, reaching for a towel in his closet before escaping the room.

The towel covers his boner while he runs down the hallway to the bathroom, and he strips himself naked in record time, stepping into a shower stall.

His hand is around his throbbing cock not two seconds later, and Mark throws his head back, closing his eyes while his brain struggles to process everything that’s just transpired.

It doesn’t take long for him to work himself to the edge. His toes curl against the vinyl floor, and his vision goes practically black as he cums.

There’s no time to aim, and Mark feels sticky warm fluid coat his chest, but his hand doesn’t stop. He jacks himself off until he’s a nearly overstimulated, gasping mess, and he thanks God for the water cleaning his body of the sinful filth.

He’s never cum this hard in his entire life.

You’re at your usual Wednesday lunch with the girls before class when you notice one of your friend’s looking at something over your shoulder. She’s done this a few times now, but when you turn in your seat to assess the room, you don’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you looking at someone?” you question.

“It’s just…” Hyuna leans forward. “Did you do something to Mark?”

“What?” you look behind you again, thoroughly confused.

“Every time you turn, he pulls his baseball cap down,” she explains. “He’s over there, by the window. Green cap.”

When you scan the area again, you do notice a pair of cute red ears sticking out from a baseball cap, the guy’s head downcast as if he’s just staring at his french fries.

“How many times has he looked over here?” you ask, grinning.

“Like, a lot.” Hyuna cocks her head. “You did do something to Mark.”

You stand up, leaning forward. “Actually, he did something to me.” With a wink to your girls, you turn to head off toward Mark’s table.

He looks up once during your approach, and you see him scrambling with his bag. It would be very entertaining to watch him run away from you again, but he doesn’t have the chance, as you arrive before he’s done shoving papers into his binder.

“Hey, you.” You take the seat across from him. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” His voice is shaky, and you find it adorable.

“You know…” you reach your foot out under the table, grazing it by his calf. “I can’t get you out of my head either.”

Mark coughs, adjusting the cap on his head. “What?”

“I said, I can’t get you out of my head either.” You’re enjoying the effect you have on him, and you’re very aware of how public the space is. You don’t think Mark’s going to confirm that he’s been thinking about you, so instead, you ask, “Are you planning to go to church on Sunday?”

“Yeah, of course,” he swallows thickly.

“Do you think you’ll be able to pay attention while you’re there?”

“I uh, I-” Mark stutters over his words. “I think so?”

You study the pretty virginal frat boy. As soft as you’ve been with him so far, you feel like teasing him, just to see how he reacts. “Just so you know, if, while you’re at Sunday service, a Jesus picture falls down, it’s because Jesus knows what you did.”

Mark lets out a groan, and you see his neck has turned red now too. “I-” Mark’s gaze dips down to your breasts, which are pushed together in your low neckline shirt as you lean forward. “I have to go-” he grabs his things, fumbling with all of them while he stands abruptly.

The loud sound of his chair scraping across the ground draws a few eyes, and the pool boy nearly knocks the table over in his haste. You notice the way he immediately holds his binder over his crotch, and you lick your lips while looking up at him.

“See you later,” he mumbles, running away.

You watch him enter the men’s bathroom, and you think you can imagine what he’s going in there to do. Last time he’d run away from you, Hyuck had mentioned he was probably going to jack off in the showers.

The frat bathroom is one thing for a quick wank, but a public restroom is another.

You shake your head, walking back to your girls table, Mark’s tray of fries in your hand. They’re all gawking at you.

“Damn,” Hyuna whistles. “I know you just said he did things to you, but girl, you definitely did a number on that church boy.”

There’s nothing Hyuck loves more in the world than making you cum on his cock. He loves the noises you make, gripping at his bed sheets as your orgasm overtakes you. He loves being the source of your high.

What he doesn’t love however, is the way that today, you immediately ask, “How’s Mark doing?” as Hyuck pulls out of you.

He can’t help but laugh slightly, shaking his head at you. “Been acting weird all week.”

“Do you think he’s going to join us tomorrow after church? I’m kind of shocked he wasn’t here today, if I’m being honest.”

“Is that why you came over? Wanted to see your precious little Mark?” Hyuck lands a smack to your inner thigh that has you giggling. “And yeah. He’ll probably join tomorrow. Jeno says he’s walked in on Mark jacking off in the shower like, four times this week. It’s actually starting to be a bit of a problem.”

“Is frat boys jacking off in the shower not a common occurrence around here?”

“It is, but not when it’s Mark,” Hyuck laughs. “That guy needs to get fucked.”

“I’m not sure he’s ready for that yet.”

Hyuck studies you. “What makes you say that?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Well, maybe he just needs to cum properly.”

You sit up, teasing your hands over Hyuck’s thighs. “Tell me, how does a guy ‘cum properly.’”

“Buried inside something nice, and wet, and warm,” Hyuck reaches out to grasp your chin. “Your mouth would work.”

You laugh at the idea, “Maybe if he lets me,” and Hyuck grins, getting off the bed to pull on his pants.

“I’m gonna head to the kitchen for water, need anything?”

“Just you,” you tease. “Hurry back.”

“You got it, angel,” Hyuck winks at you before heading to the door. He pulls on his shirt as he exits the room, but just when he gets his head through the neck hole, he catches a quick glimpse of one mister Mark Lee rushing into the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Had Mark been listening this whole time? Had he been outside of the door, listening to Hyuck fuck you?

The thought makes Hyuck laugh again, and his ego triples in size. There’s something very… intriguing about this whole situation with the frat’s ‘designated’ virginal church boy, even if this experience is making Hyuck rethink his ideas of commitment.

If the last Sunday service had been torture, today might just be Hell for Mark.

He’s sweating, shaking even, his knee bobbing up and down anxiously while he sits in the back row.

He’d returned the Bible he’d stolen last time, but he fears that he might end up taking it again. Every time he thinks about you, thinks about what it felt like to have his hand down your pants while you sucked on his neck-

No, he can’t think about it. He can’t-

But it’s too late, he feels his cock growing in his pants, and shame washes over him. He runs a hand through his hair, fanning himself and taking deep breaths.

It’s not ten minutes into the hour long service, and already, he’s at his breaking point.

Mark battles with himself for another two minutes, and he finally gives up. When everyone stands to sing, he quietly excuses himself from the back row, ducking out of the church without looking back.

“Mark?” you sit up hastily from Hyuck’s embrace, blinking at the boy who’s just entered the room. “You’re back from church early!”

“Yeah, I couldn’t sit through it,” Mark mumbles, throwing his jacket in the closet before collapsing on his bed, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s unlike you,” Hyuck sits up next to you. “Are you sick or something?”

“Definitely sick in the head,” Mark groans.

“Enjoying sex doesn’t make you bad,” you tell him. “Besides, we haven’t even fucked yet.”

Mark sighs. “Yet.”

“So you were thinking about her fucking you while you were in church,” Hyuck grins next to you. “That’s sinful, Mark.”

“I know!” Mark flops onto his stomach, shoving his face against his pillow.

You look at Hyuck, and he makes a face, motioning to his friend. ‘Say something’ he mouths.

‘No, you say something!’ you mouth back.

Instead, Hyuck simply pushes you out of his bed, and you stumble onto your feet.

“Mark…” you approach the sulking churchboy. “I know a few things that could cheer you up.”

Mark groans, but he sits up all the same, looking at you with eyes that tell you he wants you to elaborate.

“I was thinking…” you swallow, choosing your words. “Based on your history, it sounds like maybe you’ve never had someone go down on you before-”

“Fuck, she’s so good with her mouth,” Hyuck quips.

“I know this whole thing started with you not eating pussy, but, seeing as you made me cum last week with your fingers, I thought I could return the favour somehow.”

Mark’s lips part, and he allows you to take his hands, pulling him to be standing in front of you.

“What do you say Mark?” You lean forward, your lips almost touching. “Can I suck you off? Pretty please?”

Instead of answering, he kisses you, cupping the back of your neck.

Your first kiss with Mark had been slow and gentle, but there’s a new fire in him now, and it’s only a moment before his tongue is gliding past your lower lip, begging for entrance. You release a groan, reaching down to loop your fingers in the waistband of his pants, pulling him tighter to your body.

You can feel that he’s already hard, and you love how easy it is to turn him on. You love the way he’s already becoming more explorative in the way he interacts with you, his hand steady on the back of your neck, insistent that you stay lip locked.

For a guy who doesn’t kiss girls much, he’s a phenomenal kisser. There’s emotion in it, and he tastes like spearmint.

You get lost in the feeling of him, but after only a little while, you’re aching to touch him properly. Your hand slips down, cupping him through his pants. The church boy shivers at the contact, and you squeeze him. It’s the first time you’ve really touched his cock, and you bet he’s already aching-

He releases the back of your neck, and you take it as a sign to begin kissing down his body. You start at his throat, licking the sensitive spot that has him grabbing your hips and releasing a moan. He makes such pretty sounds-

You continue rubbing his cock, but when your mouth gets to his collarbone, you grab at his shirt. “Can this come off?”

“Yeah,” Mark mumbles, releasing you so he can unbutton the nice church shirt he’s wearing.

When he discards the fabric, revealing his body to you, you simply enjoy it for a moment.

Mark and Hyuck both have such wonderful bodies. Sure, some of your friends make good arguments about the muscled forms of Jaehyun, Johnny and Jeno, but you prefer Mark’s understated physique.

He’s a soccer player, and his body is perfectly athletic without being too much to handle.

Your kisses begin to descend, and you find yourself pausing at the cross necklace. You lean forward and press your lips to it softly. Mark lets out a shaky breath.

You know he’s watching you, and this is your way of showing him you still respect his religion, despite persuading him to partake in the more ‘sinful’ side of life.

“Wait,” Mark says, and he lets go of you to reach behind his neck, fumbling with the clasp. You watch him with curiosity as he removes the cross, holding it gently and placing it onto his bedside table.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him without the gold chain around his throat, and you wonder what the removal of it could mean, but you try not to think too hard about it.

You sink to your knees on the floor, undoing his belt and looking up at Mark. If he doesn’t want this, he can stop you, and you give him more than enough time to make that decision. But Mark only watches you, breathing heavily as you undo the button, then the zipper-

“You want this?” you ask, hooking your fingers in his pants and briefs.

He nods. “I want you.”

You smile, tugging the fabrics down so they pool at his feet.

“You have such a pretty cock,” you whisper, grabbing the base and swiping your thumb across the leaking tip. You notice the way Mark’s chest and neck flush pink, as if he’s embarrassed by your words, but you know that praise is good for Mark.

You press a kiss to the head of his cock, suckling a little while Mark moans above you.

It looks like he’s not sure where to place his hands, so you reach for one, placing it on your cheek while you take more of him into your mouth.

“God-” Mark whispers.

“She feels good, right?” Hyuck asks.

“Yeah,” Mark nods. “Really good.”

Having them both give you praise has your pussy throbbing, and it encourages you to sink further down onto his cock, sucking harder-

“Shit-” Mark nearly whimpers, and you think this might be the first time you’ve heard him swear.

You know it’s wrong, and bad, and dirty, and sinful- but there’s something about corrupting Mark that has you going insane. You bob up and down on his cock, stroking the base that you can’t reach with your mouth.

“This is too hot,” Hyuck says. “I’ve gotta join.”

“How-” Mark begins to ask, but a second later, hands are pulling you off of Mark’s cock.

“Both of you, on the bed,” Hyuck instructs. “You’ve heard of spit roasting, right, Mark?”

“I-” the church boy’s skin is flushed again, and when you hop up on the bed, he follows, clamoring after you.

“Look, you’ll have her mouth,” Hyuck gets on the mattress behind you, and you hear him undoing his belt, “and I’ll have her perfect pussy. It’s a win, win.”

Mark doesn’t argue, his eyes moving down to meet yours as you take his dick back into your mouth, picking up where you’d left off.

Hyuck, meanwhile, tears your pants down, and a moment later his fingers are gliding through your pussy. “Fuck, angel, you’re soaked. Sucking Mark’s cock really turns you on, huh?”

You groan a sound of affirmation around Mark, and his hand is quick to grab your head again, fingers flexing in your hair.

“You can fuck her face if you want,” Hyuck suggests, working two fingers into you easily. “She loves getter her throat fucked-”

Mark’s hips twitch at the words, but he doesn’t follow through. You think maybe he doesn’t want to hurt you, and it’s an endearing idea.

Hyuck pulls his digits from your core, and they’re replaced with the head of his cock, which he rubs the length of your pussy, teasing your clit before pushing into you.

Your fuck buddy lets out a loud groan, his hands finding your hips as he sinks his length fully into your core.

“Dude,” Hyuck breathes, “her pussy is literally Heaven-”

His first thrust sends you further onto Mark’s cock, and the man above you gasps when he hits the back of your throat.

“Is fucking pussy going against God?” Hyuck asks, in an almost rhetoric manner. “Isn’t there some weird church loophole where anal doesn’t count? Her ass is great too, scout’s honor.”

At this point, you’re pretty sure Mark’s not even listening to Hyuck. He’s much too focused on your lips wrapped around him, and the sounds slipping out of him make you think maybe he’s close to the edge.

All things considered - for a guy who’s never been blown - Mark’s lasting remarkably well, but you don’t want him to last. You want him to cum, like he deserves to cum.

When you suck harder, you feel Mark’s cock twitch, and he lets out a groan. “Shit, I’m gonna-”

“Cum in her mouth,” Hyuck states, pace getting rougher inside of you. “Do it. She’s a good girl. She’ll swallow. Fuck, it’s so hot when she swallows.”

Mark moans, and he pushes his hips forward, sending his cock into the back of your throat. Your gag reflex is the thing that makes him cum, and an “Oh my God!” leaves his lips as he explodes down your throat.

Hyuck’s right, you are a good girl, and you swallow every drop, working Mark through his orgasm until he’s gasping. He pulls out of your mouth, and Hyuck takes the opportunity to fuck you even harder.

Now that you can moan freely, you fill the room with sounds of your own pleasure. When Mark gets off the bed, you fall onto your face, turning to press your cheek to the mattress while you watch Mark find his pants on the floor.

His eyes meet yours, and you can see his pupils are blown. It’s so incredibly sexy to have Hyuck fucking you on Mark’s bed while Mark watches, and your pussy throbs around Hyuck’s cock.

“Fuck, you just got so tight, angel,” Hyuck groans, fingers digging into your waist while his hips buck wildly. “Shit, I’m not going to last like this-”

You reach a shaky hand under your body, finding your clit, and it only makes your pussy clamp down harder on your fuck buddy, who releases another loud moan.

“You close, angel? Sucking off Mark must have really got you going-”

“I’m close,” you confirm, grabbing at the bedsheet with your free hand while your fingers continue on your clit.

“Yeah, you are,” Hyuck growls. “That’s my good girl, my perfect angel. I want you to cum so bad, it’ll tip me over the edge- Fuck! I’m gonna fill you up so good, so fucking good-”

You love it when Hyuck talks dirty like this, and you gasp as you get closer and closer to your high-

“Come on,” Hyuck lands a smack to your ass, and the pained pleasure has you crying out, rubbing your clit harder. “Cum for me,” he commands.

It’s all you need to reach the edge, and you fall over it with a loud moan, forcing your eyes to stay open while you stare at Mark, who watches you with parted lips and a dazed expression.

“That’s it, that’s it-” Hyuck grunts, pace faltering as he cums too, fulfilling his promise of filling you up just the way you like it. He fucks you through your highs, and your hand falls from your clit to the bed, body on the cusp of overstimulation as Hyuck’s motions begin to slow.

As things come to a stop, Hyuck lets out a deep breath. “Mark, come over here, you’ve gotta see this.”

“I don’t want to look at your dick,” comes Mark’s quick retort.

“Then don’t look at my dick, look at her pussy with my cum dripping out of it. Trust me, it’s so fucking hot-” Hyuck pulls out of you, and you whine at the loss.

You watch Mark go around the side of the bed, and you can feel both of their eyes on your hole, which is already beginning to drip Hyuck’s cum-

You place a hand under your core, not wanting to get any of this on Mark’s bed, and Hyuck laughs loudly.

“Aren’t you two worried about pregnancy?” Mark asks.

“That’s what birth control is for,” Hyuck says. “Cumming inside feels like nothing else in the whole world.”

“What about STI’s?”

“Well, I mean…” Hyuck gets off the bed, and you watch him grab a tissue from his desk, “we’re only really fucking each other and we’re both clean so…”

“Wait, you two only sleep with each other?” Mark sounds justifiably confused. “So… why aren’t you two… why aren’t you two dating?”

It’s a very good question, and from the way Hyuck brushes it off with a ‘you know’ and a topic change, it feels as if neither of you really have a good answer. “Anyways, you have to try this sometime,” Hyuck says again. “Next Sunday.”

Mark sighs. “Can’t we do this on any day but Sunday?”

“Where would be the fun in that, church bitch?”

You let out a groan of annoyance, but you think you’re starting to understand this is just the way their relationship is.

Getting through a full week while being on the same campus as you is starting to feel like Mark’s own personal Hell. Every time he so much as catches a glimpse of you running between classes, blood rushes to his cock.

Hell, even at soccer practice with Hyuck, every time Mark looks at his forward position roommate, all he can think about is the visual of Hyuck fucking you from behind on his own bed.

By Friday, he’s too pent up to even attend his last class, and he rushes back to the frat to get some shower time.

He’s becoming much too used to jacking off in the shower, but he really can’t help himself.

Mark feels like an absolute sinner, especially with the cross necklace around his neck. Today, something comes over him, and he takes it off, wrapping the gold chain around his right hand. He looks at it for a moment, and there’s almost something like curiosity-

He wraps his hand around his cock, flinching a little at the cold metal on his heated skin. As he begins to move his fist up and down his aching length, the bite of the necklace feels like repentance, like something he deserves.

Mark takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he thinks about you.

He thinks about the sounds you make, the expression on your face as you cum- how your mouth had felt on his throbbing cock-

He can’t believe how easy it is to get himself to the edge, especially with the added pain of the necklace around his hand. Does this make him even worse? It shouldn’t be this easy to cum- it shouldn’t be, but it is.

When he reaches the edge, it’s not God’s name on Mark’s lips, it’s yours.

He gasps, body tingling as he pumps his way through it, the necklace biting into his skin-

“Jesus Christ Mark! Get a fucking room!” comes Jeno’s voice. “Some of us are just trying to fucking shower!”

The outburst makes shame flood through his body, but it also only adds to the powerful sensation in his cock, his cum shooting across his chest.

Mark’s decides he’s definitely going to Hell for this.

Another Saturday win for the soccer team means another frat party, and Hyuck loves the attention you give him on days when he gets a goal. You’re even touchier than usual, praising him for his skills-

Yet, Hyuck finds it hard to focus on you with Mark blatantly staring from across the room.

Hyuck has enjoyed sharing you with his roommate, more than he ever thought he would, but tonight, he wants you for himself, and when you begin kissing his neck, pushing him against the wall, Hyuck’s had enough of this public bullshit.

“My room, now,” he commands.

With a giggle, you turn, darting off towards the stairs, and Hyuck follows you with a smile. As he climbs the steps in twos, he gets a feeling he’s being followed, and he stops on the first landing to turn and look at Mark.

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Mark blinks. “I’m uh… coming with you?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“So?”

“So,” Hyuck sighs, “you only get access to angels on Sundays, all good Christians should know that.”

“But-” Mark opens his mouth to argue but Hyuck’s not in the mood for it tonight.

“No joining,” he says firmly. But as he looks at Mark’s defeated expression, Hyuck feels something like pity. “I guess you can stand outside the door and listen, you perv.”

Mark’s skin flares with embarrassment, but as Hyuck continues up the stairs, he gets the suspicion that Mark’s going to do exactly what he’d just suggested.

When you arrive at the frat house on Sunday afternoon, Hyuck is waiting for you in the living room. He pulls you into a kiss, and his lips linger against your own, his fingers digging into your hips. “Are you ready for today, my little demon?”

You laugh. “I’m always ready. But we have to wait till Mark gets back from church.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “We could always start without him.”

“That wouldn’t be very nice,” you note, grinning at your fuck buddy.

“Making me wait isn’t very nice,” Hyuck counters.

“It’s important to learn how to be patient,” you tell him, pressing another peck to his lips. “Come on, I’m sure we can find an episode of something to watch on Netflix.”

When you get to Hyuck’s room, the last thing you expect is to find Mark waiting for you. He’s sitting on his bed, staring at the floor, and his head snaps up as you enter.

“Mark?” You can’t hide your confusion. “Shouldn’t you be at church?”

“I’m not going today,” he states, standing and placing his cross necklace on the bedside table.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, walking over to grab his hands, assessing him for head injury.

“Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

Hyuck lets out a whistle behind you, and you hear him locking the door. “Damn, Mark, I’m actually kind of impressed.”

“So…” you look into Mark’s eyes, “does this mean you’re ready?”

He nods. “Yeah… I’m ready.”

“Are you sure about that, church boy?” your fuck buddy asks. “Do you want us to put up a cross and see if it falls down as a sign that God thinks you’re a sinner?”

Mark takes a deep breath, and his eyes shift to Hyuck over your shoulder. “Fuck God, and fuck the cross.”

Your lips part in shock, and Mark takes that moment to grab your face and kiss you. It’s the hungriest kiss you’ve had from him so far, and you melt into his embrace, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and pressing your chest to his own.

His tongue explores yours, as confident as ever, and his hands move down to your hips, needy and rough. When his palm slips down to grab your ass, your moan loudly, all consumed by this new Mark.

“Shit, dude,” Hyuck whispers from behind you. “Guess I should stop calling you church boy.”

Mark lets out a groan, and then he’s tossing you onto his bed. A squeal of delight escapes you at the roughness of it all.

“I wanna taste you,” Mark states, breathing heavily as he looks down at you with dark eyes.

“Then taste me,” you say simply, already grabbing at your pants to push them down.

Mark helps you tug them off, and then his own fingers are hooking in the waistband of your panties, tearing them down your legs with one rough motion.

“Oh my God, Mark-” you gasp, shocked at his sudden change in attitude.

The man who gets on the bed between your legs isn’t the same man who had whimpered while he fingered you two weeks ago. He’s not a soft church boy worried about boundaries, he’s a confident man who knows what he wants. And what he want is you.

You can’t even take a moment to breathe before Mark’s pressing his tongue against your pussy, hands firmly grabbing at your thighs while he licks a stripe of your most sensitive area.

“Fuck,” you groan, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair.

His response is a moan that sends shivers through your body, his lips suctioning around your clit like he’s a seasoned pro. There’s no hesitation or worry about correctness, there’s only a pussy deprived man who seems to know exactly what to do to have your toes curling as you drag them across his back.

You’ve had good oral sex before, Hyuck’s particularly skilled in this field, but as wild as your fuck buddy is, he’s never been feral like this.

Mark’s tongue is unpredictable, lapping at you and pushing into your hole, teasing your walls as he rubs his nose against your clit. “Shit, Mark, you’re so good-”

“Better than me?” Hyuck asks.

You hate to admit it, but when a strangled “Yes!” leaves your lips, it only makes Mark go harder on you.

You have no brain space to focus on Hyuck, your eyes closed as Mark’s tongue pleasures you like no one ever has before.

It’s like he knows your body already, as if he’s divinely guided-

The thought has your pussy throbbing, and as if he senses your need, Mark lets go of one of your thighs, adjusting so he can slip a finger into you while his tongue returns to your clit.

“Shit, just like that-” you gasp, legs quivering over his shoulders.

Another digits slips into your wet hole, and more moans leave you as the church boy finger fucks you even better than he did last time.

You’re consumed by Mark, completely, and it feels like Heaven to get lost in the pleasure he’s providing you.

You apply a bit of pressure on his head, wanting him to go harder on you, and he rewards you by sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking the sensitive bud.

“Fuck-” you moan, pushing your hips up toward his face. You’re already so close to cumming that it’s almost insane, and you trust that this time, nothing Hyuck could do in your periphery would prompt Mark to let up on you.

He seems Hellbent on getting you to the edge, and as his fingers crook up to stroke your gspot, you know he’s going to accomplish his task with flying colours.

“Sounds like she’s close, dude,” Hyuck muses, reading your reactions like the back of his hand.

When you turn your head to open your eyes, you find Hyuck has his cock out, and he’s stroking it, gaze fixed on the man between your legs.

There’s something so… fulfilling about being watched like this. To know that Hyuck’s just as turned on as you and Mark, even though he’s taking no part in your pleasure.

Hyuck has a nice cock, and the sight of his fist wrapped tightly around it has even more lust coursing through your body.

To have both men worshipping you in this way- it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

“I’m gonna-” you stutter, licking your lips as the pleasure builds between your legs.

“Cum for me,” Mark groans against your pussy. “Please, angel, I want you to cum.”

The ‘please’ is the cherry on top, as is the petname that usually only Hyuck ever uses on you, and combined, they throw you over the edge.

You cry out, rutting your pussy against Mark’s face while he tongue and finger fucks you through your orgasm.

The church boy lets out sinful sounds, and you can tell he’s enjoying being used like this, enjoying making you come undone on his fingers. Your pussy is throbbing around him, and his unrelenting digits continue stroking the spot that has you tinging with overwhelming pleasure.

“Mark!” you nearly scream, overtaken by the kind of ecstasy you’ve never felt before.

“Fuck, dude,” Hyuck breathes, “you made her squirt-”

You’re almost twitching when Mark finally pulls his tongue from your clit, and his fingers slow before slipping out of you. You open your eyes to watch him lick them clean, and he lets out a deep groan, clearly enjoying the taste of you.

You need him to fuck you, like you’ve never needed anyone - even Hyuck - to fuck you in your entire life.

“Please,” you whimper. “Mark-”

“Let me get a condom,” he states, sitting up-

“No!” you reach out to grab at him, locking eyes with him as you state, “I want you raw.”

It’s the first time today that he looks unsure. “I don’t-”

“I’m clean,” you insist, “and so are you-”

“Bruh, just raw dog it,” Hyuck says. “Trust us-”

With one last look between your thighs, Mark relents, and he gets back on the bed, tugging off his shirt and his pants while you work on getting yourself naked.

As soon as you’re both bare, Mark is laying his body over yours, pressing you into the bed while his lips move feverishly against your own. You tangle your fingers in his hair, enjoying the feeling of his cock trapped between your bodies, rubbing over your clit as he rocks his hips.

“Please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Inside-”

Mark pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as he looks into your eyes. His gaze shifts down, and he reaches a hand to grab the base of his length, teasing it against your pussy.

You moan loudly as he toys with your clit, and then he’s testing the head of his cock against your aching hole. The tip slips just inside and you whimper, only for him to pull back, then do it again-

“God, Mark-” You dig your nails into his shoulders, throwing your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes.

He pushes his cock deeper inside of you, and you both let out groans of pleasure. His mouth returns to yours while he slowly sinks into your pussy, until his hips are flush against your own.

“Fuck,” Mark whimpers, twitching from the new sensation.

“Told you raw was the way to go,” Hyuck says, as if he’s the most helpful person in the room.

Both you and Mark ignore your fuck buddy, and Mark takes a test thrust that has you both gasping.

“Just like that,” you encourage him. “Fuck, you’re doing so good-”

His lips return to yours, and the kiss takes your breath away as he begins to find a slow pace. Each thrust is deep, intentional, and in some odd way, this doesn’t feel like fucking. Fucking is hard, fast, fevered- but this is different. This is more like making love.

Mark sucks on your bottom lip, and he adjusts one of his hands so it can come up to grab at your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple and making you shiver. Your body reacts, pussy throbbing around Mark’s cock, and he groans into your mouth.

“Feels like Heaven,” he whispers, massaging your boob with a loving hand.

Your skin tingles at his words. You can take the church boy out of church, but you can't take the church out of the church boy.

His pace is getting faster, and each thrust has the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach. It’s insane how this is Mark’s first time- it sounds like he hadn’t gotten far with the last girl he’d had under him before the Jesus picture incident-

He’s an absolute natural, and each brush of his lips against yours has you feeling closer to him than ever before. His cock fits perfectly in your pussy, and the sounds continuing to escape him tell you that he feels just as good as you do.

“I’m not-” Mark gasps, kisses moving to your throat. “I’m not going to last long-”

“That’s okay,” you assure him, gently rubbing his back. “I’m proud of you.”

He groans, sucking on your neck. Mark’s hand moves down to your hip, anchoring you to the bed while he ruts into you faster. You know you’re close, but it can be hard to cum without clit stimulation, so you sneak your own palm down your abdomen, fingers seeking out your most sensitive spot.

You both groan when you make contact with your clit, and Mark’s breath is hot against your throat. “You close?” he asks.

“Almost,” you nod, rubbing soft circles around your clit while Mark’s cock slides in and out of your pussy.

“Ya’ll better cum quick or I might bust a nut just watching.” Hyuck’s voice makes you laugh, but the laugh quickly becomes a moan as Mark fucks you harder, fingers digging into your hip.

“I’m so close,” Mark whispers. “Please, this feels too good-”

“Mark,” you whimper, loving how sweetly he talks to you while buried balls deep in your pussy.

“Please, angel, I can’t hold on much longer-”

Your skin tingles at the idea that he’s working hard not to cum, that he won’t allow himself to get there until you can reach your high with him. He’s such a soft boy, the most perfectly wonderful man you’ve ever fucked-

“I’m gonna-” you bite at your lip, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of ecstasy that you’re so close to reaching-

“Cum with me,” Mark begs. “Cum with me, angel, cum-”

The desperation in his voice is what finally sends you over the edge, and you gasp as your core clamps down on him. Mark echoes your sound of pleasure, groaning loudly in your ear as his fingers dig into your hip.

You can feel him filling you up, and it makes you extra sensitive as you ride out your orgasm, clutching his shoulders like a lifeline.

To Mark’s credit, he fucks you through it, hips only faltering slightly before the end.

When you’re both done, you pull your hand away from your clit, and Mark all but collapses on top of you, breathing heavily as he buries his face against your neck.

You can hardly have a moment of peace with Mark before Hyuck’s pulling at his shoulder. “My turn,” your fuck buddy insists. “Come on dude, I’ve been waiting forever-”

A laugh bubbles out of you at Hyuck’s antics, and with a loud groan, Mark gets off of you. There’s a dazed look in his eyes as he rolls onto his back in the small twin bed next to you. You wonder if he’s going to just lay there-

Hyuck’s not having it, and he reaches down to scoop you up in his arms, tossing you onto his own mattress.

“Fuck, angel,” Hyuck looks down at your body. “How do you want it?”

You consider it for a moment, and then roll onto your stomach, lifting your hips as an invitation.

Hyuck groans loudly. “God, you’re perfect.”

He’s straddling your legs not a second later, grabbing your waist to tug you up a little bit more while he glides his cock between your closed thighs, grazing your pussy.

“Shit, this is going to be so good,” Hyuck mutters to himself, using one hand to wrap around the base of his cock and guide it to your entrance.

He moans as he slips inside. “Fuck- I’ve never banged you using another guy’s cum as lube before, but shit, angel, I could get used to this.”

His words make you feel dirty, sinful even, a little like a whore- but something inside of you actually enjoys it.

“Hyuck-” you whimper at how good the position feels. With your legs closed and your ass in the air, things feel more snug, and the angle has Hyuck hitting a sweet spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“I know, angel,” Hyuck assures you. “Feels fucking fantastic.”

His breath is hot against your back as he begins rutting into you, and you grab onto Hyuck’s pillow, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne that has perfumed the material.

“You look so good like this,” your fuck buddy says, and the slapping of his hips against your ass is making you go crazy. “I’m never going to get used to the way you look with my cock buried in your perfect fucking pussy.”

Your grip on his pillow tightens, the praise going straight to your core, which throbs around him.

“Yeah, I know you love it when I praise you. You just love being made out to be an angel while doing dirty shit an angel would never do.”

He knows you so well it almost hurts. And when he talks to you like this, it makes you wonder why he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. Although, if you had been his girlfriend a few weeks ago, you would have never propositioned Mark, and the idea makes you sad.

You open your eyes, looking over at the church boy you’ve come to enjoy spending time with.

Mark’s watching you, and as Hyuck fucks you harder, you have to break the eye contact in favour of pressing your face into the pillow. Your sounds are just getting too loud, even for a frat house.

Your pussy feels like magic, to have been fucked by Mark and now Hyuck- you know you’ll be cumming again soon, whether you want to or not.

“I can feel you clenching, angel,” Hyuck laughs, as if reading your mind. “So this is as good for you as it is for me.”

“So good,” you confirm, which only prompts him to fuck you faster, gliding in and out of your cum lubed hole easier than ever before.

“Watching Mark have you first was torture,” Hyuck tells you. “I was so close to busting multiple times- but I held out, because we both know you’re going to love being filled with us both. Dirty fucking angel.”

You whine at his words, so close to the edge you can almost taste it.

“Don’t be shy,” the man fucking you announces, “cum on this cock. I know you want to.”

Your skin tingles on the cusp of pleasure-

“Be a good little angel and cum for us.”

There’s something about the word ‘us’ that just does it for you, and you let out a loud gasp as you fall apart. Hyuck echoes your sound, fingers digging into your hips as he reaches his own release. He fucks you even harder, groaning while your pussy clenches around his twitching cock.

“Just like that, just like that-” he pants, encouraging you while he rides you through your highs.

You’re not sure how long you cum, but when Hyuck finally slows to a stop inside of you, you think you might just pass out from all the pleasure you’ve received in such a short time.

Your fuck buddy leans over your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder that moves up to your neck, and you tilt your head to give him better access.

“That’s our angel,” Hyuck muses softly in your ear.

You find yourself smiling. It’s the happiest you’ve been in months.

Nothing else matters, all there is right now is safety and love and acceptance… and maybe a little bit of filth.

When Hyuck pulls out of your pussy, you feel yourself immediately begin to drip, and you do your due diligence, shifting your hand under your body to collect the fluid so it doesn’t ruin Hyuck’s bed.

Your fuck buddy grabs a few tissues, and then he’s sitting by your thighs, spreading your ass cheeks so he can get a good look at you while he groans at the sight.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, gently wiping your abused hole, cleaning you of his and Mark’s cum. “I don’t think you even know how hot you are.”

He’s probably right about that, but you’re sure that if you keep doing this with him and Mark, they’ll make you learn.

When Hyuck’s done with his very basic aftercare, he flops onto the bed behind you, back to the wall while he cradles you to his chest. His lips return to your shoulder, and the soft kisses make you whimper from sensitivity.

Then- something is falling on you, and you jolt, eyes snapping open-

“Shit,” Hyuck groans, and you realize the soccer poster has slipped off the wall and onto your bodies.

Your gaze immediately goes to Mark, and you see a look of shock in his expression. “Oh my God-”

“It’s not God,” Hyuck assures you both. “It’s probably just Jeno fucking some chick on the other side of the wall.” As if to prove his point, your fuck buddy bangs the wall three times, and a moment later there are three returned bang noises. “See? Totally just Jeno fucking.”

Mark doesn’t look very convinced, and he rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling while he runs his hands through his hair.

“I hope this fucking poster isn’t going to stop you from joining us again next Sunday,” Hyuck says as he pushes the symbol of Jeno’s sex life to the floor.

“Next Sunday?” Mark turns to look at you both.

“Yeah, next Sunday,” Hyuck repeats. “You do want to cum again, don’t you?”

The church boy lets out a deep sigh, but then he’s nodding. “Yeah.”

“Perfect, then it’s settled,” Hyuck grins against your shoulder.

Your fuck buddy is something of an enigma, and you’re never quite sure if you’ve gotten him figured out. He’d started this whole thing being reluctant to allow Mark to join, but now, it seems as if he relishes the thought of having Sunday dick appointments with his best friend.

Although, as you stare at the pretty church boy in the bed across from yours, you really can’t say that you mind.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I just love Markhyuck?

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🔮 preview. “I’m bad?” Hyuck gasps in shock. “Says the people fucking in an accesibility washroom?” He has a point there, and even Mark lets out a chuckle while he presses his lips firmly to your neck, his hips beginning to thrust so he can glide his cock in and out of your wet pussy.“I expect this from her, but from you, church boy?” Hyuck shakes his head while leaning back against the locked door, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m still shocked by how sinful you’ve become.”

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, threesome, hand job, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, mention of fingering and pussy eating, praise, some degradation with affectionate use of ‘whore/slut’, the constant ‘sin’ mentions, slight cumplay/leaving panties on after having 2 men’s cum in you, bathroom sex, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel. (mark’s) church boy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2k I teaser wc. 270

🌙 staring. Haechan & Mark x afab!reader

bonus

It’s been something like four months since you and Hyuck invited Mark into your unconventional relationship, and so much has changed since then. Having battled for a long time with perceived self-worth, it seemed that the inclusion of a friend within the relationship was all Hyuck had needed to realize his deeper feelings for you, and feel comfortable enough to share them.

Now, Hyuck’s having the best sex of his life with his two best friends in the entire world. Despite Hyuck’s growth, however, it’s clear that the person most changed by your relationship is none other than the OG church boy himself.

Hyuck had thought he’d been horny when he entered university, but it feels as if Mark’s pent-up energy has made him significantly hornier.

Sitting in class, knowing you and Mark have a spare right now… well, Hyuck can only imagine what the two of you might be up to. As the lecture gets particularly boring, Hyuck pulls out his phone, opening snapchat maps to see if he can pinpoint you and his roommate.

Hyuck’s not shocked to find you were both active on snapchat ten minutes ago, in a building closeby. He’d never been one for maps, but since you and Mark had started fucking, Hyuck had been forced to learn all feasible sexcipade locations on campus. If he’s not mistaken, you and Mark are in one of the single occupancy accessibility bathrooms on the first floor of the arts building, and the thought makes him swallow thickly.

With one last look at his boring teacher, Hyuck grabs his backpack and he slinks out of the lecture hall.

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sleepyangelkami · 3 months

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You having a secret crush on ellie and you keep it to yourself but she finds your diary one day and she can't help herself so she reads it when you go to the bathroom

DEAR DIARY e.williams

☆ WORD COUNT - 3.4K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - you and ellie have been best friends for as long as you can both remember. she was the artist, you were the writer. you both respected one anothers hidden sketchbook and diary. until one day you're taking much too long in the shower and it's just... sitting there! ellie can't help herself and she finds out a little secret.

☆ WARNINGS - snooping? tinsey bit of angst if you can even call it that, touch starved reader, sort of loser!ellie a little, lil crying, petnames, use of y/n like once, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

for as long as you could remember, ellie had been your number one. she was your best friend in the entire world, you told her everything and she told you the same in return. okay maybe not... everything. there was one thing you'd been having an awful hard time keeping to yourself. though, you were sure it was much better in than out.

you and ellie were like an orange and black cat, you were fire and ice, the sun and moon, a writer and an artist.

ellie drew a lot. you'd seen multiple of her drawings before. you remembered the first time she'd doodled a frog onto your arm during a boring lecture from tommy and maria. she gave you a confused look to your state of shock. but you were merely surprised. sure, you knew she could draw. but you didn't know she was that good.

you were the writer. ellie was well aware of this. whether you had your laptop propped up on your knees, writing away or a pen in hand scrawling letters around the little pages. ellie always thought your handwritting was nice. it was much better than her fat chunky lettering that everyone always seemed to have trouble reading. she'd always watch the way your pen would dance across the page, so easily and smoothly. she was almost jealous.

you'd both grown to understand the boundaries of her drawings and your writing.

two things were off limits. one, was her big black bulky sketchbook that she often brought around to your house or sat under her arm. two, as your pink journal. she'd seen it once, questioning you what book was falling out from your locker drawer. you were honest with her. you told her it was your diary, the book you cherished the most, the book she could never read.

at first, ellie was a little taken aback.

sure, she knew everyone had their own secrets but it was you. you told ellie everything, or so she thought.

"oh, thank god." she spoke, pushing her jacket off as she walked into your house, right through the front door. the snow from outside decorated the crown of her head and the tip of her nose. "i was looking everywhere for that." discarding her wet boots at the door. "thought i lost it."

"nope." you chimed from your place at your kitchen counter. your stools had been the very ones joel had built for you. well, not for you. he really built them for anyone but when no takers raised their hand, you sort of felt like you had to. ellie laughed at you, stating nobody would want to sit at your kitchen counter ever again. "right here."

ellie soon made her way across the kitchen, taking the sketchbook from your hands softly. "you didn't... look at anything, did you?"

you shook your head from side to side. "'course not, els." that beloved nickname that had her cheeks turning pink. "'s the same way i wouldn't want you reading my diary. i wouldn't look at your sketchbook like that." god only knew what ellie williams was drawing on the cream coloured paper.

she breathed a sigh of relief, believing you. "okay, thank you." though she still had a gnawing feeling at the bottom of her stomach. what if you did? i mean, you wouldn't do that much less lie to her afterwards. but what if. once the thought entered her head, she had a hard time getting it to leave again.

"wanna watch a movie?" you questioned, placing your chin on your hands that had been propped up by the elbows onto your kitchen counter.

ellie sat herself on one of the white stools, not the wooden ones joel had made. "whatcha have in mind, sweetheart?" it wasn't often that ellie came over for less than a day. i mean, you two were practically attached together by the hip. if ellie was at your house, and even just for something as small as to collect the sketchbook, she was more often than not staying over.

you hummed, your lips pressed together. try as you must but you never were able to play off the stammering and flustered appearance as she called you those pretty names. but that was sort of the whole point, she liked the way your cheeks heated up. "something christmassy." you spoke. "like the muppets or something."

the girl merely raised a scarred brow at you. "it's november."

you huffed out a sigh, rolling your eyes. "'s never to early for christmas, els."

that was enough for ellie, she supposed. after this short interaction in the kitchen, you both ended up sat atop your living room couch, you fishing around with the remote. thankfully, she'd agreed on the muppets christmas carol, and you were not about to give up the oppertunity to watch your favourite movie with your favourite person.

a hand came down to your side, gently rubbing up and down gently. suddenly, the buttons on the controller seemed hazy and you blinked not once, not twice but three times, a breath falling from your lips. her fingers were so long and pretty, gently soothing the bare skin from underneath your shirt, barely hitting against your stomach. it wasn't much but for a touch starved girl alike you, it was enough to have your stomach in knots, your mind blurring into one big watercolour.

ellie seemed to have taken notice to the way your entire demeanour changed, her brows barely moving. "something wrong, baby?" you couldn't tell if she were being serious or not. perhaps it was because everything seemed hazy but truly, you couldn't distinguish whether or not she was trying to fool around with you or if her words had really been spoken with such innocence.

did she know what she was doing to you?

you cleared your throat, bee stung lips rolling. "lets jus' watch the movie, els." pressing what you assumed was the start button and watching as the screen lit up. avoiding the question completely.

you'd missed the way her lips curved up into a smirk.

of course, ellie williams was well aware of the effect she had on you.

you see, you'd been hiding this 'crush' on your best friend for quite a long time now. but it was times like this that you swore she knew, she had to. of course, she had to be aware of the way you stumbled upon your words around her or the way your face seemed on fire when she used those pretty nicknames on you. that was the thing, she called you the names, nobody else, not even those fuckbuddies of hers.

it begged the question, where did you stand to her?

you'd been best friends for so long now, you were sure she merely called you these things and seemed so impossibly close because she was comfortable with you. otherwise, there'd somehow be a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why she treated you so differently. though, the bigger part of you, the one consumed by romance novels and love letters, the one that consumed romantic films as if it were food, that part of you wanted to believe it was because you were different. well, not you necessarily. you didn't want to be different to all the girls she fucked, well, you didn't really care. you just wanted ellie's feelings for you to be different.

you didn't want ellie to look at you like you were one of those girls that'd spend the night then leave by morning without so much as a breakfast or goodbye.

you wanted her to look at you like you were worth a million stars. the way you looked at her.

you'd been enamoured by her since the day you'd met her and it appeared as though it were obvious to just about everyone other than her. your best friends dina and jesse had instantly picked up on it when you were kids. it was a wonder to both you and them how ellie still hadn't found out.

but even when dina and jesse brought it up, whether there was a teasing tone etched to their words or perhaps they were asking a serious question, you did exactly what ellie told you to do in every other situation. deny, deny, deny. probably the only time you ever took on ellie's advice.

the one person or thing, i should say, that actually knows about this little 'crush' on the auburn haired girl was the little pink notebook tucked away in the side drawer of your room, right next to your desk.

seeing as it was merely ink to a page, you didn't have to hide. you didn't have to become flustered the way you did when talking to ellie and you didn't have to lie the way you did to dina and jesse. you could simply breathe again.

it was the thing you admired most about this little book, the freedom.

you could say anything you wanted about anyone you wanted and nobody would ever know. it'd never leave the little pink book. besides, the only person that knew about your diary was ellie and you trusted her enough not to look through it. the same way you'd never pick up ellie's sketchbook and look through it.

not only because she asked but because you too know what it's like to have something of yours worth so much value. not in money, of course, but in a sense that it truly was yours and nobody elses.

"yes i could." you bit back to the auburn haired girl that sat atop your bed. the movie had ended hours ago, you'd even thrown on another one. this time, ellie got to choose and as always, she chose a horror. you hated horror movies and yet every single time, without fail, ellie was throwing one on.

"no you couldn't." she rolled her eyes. the current debate was whether or not you would be able to survive the scream movies. you were sure that you would, without a doubt but ellie wasn't so sure. "you can barely sit through a horror movie let alone be in one."

"they're just not interesting." you all but pouted, your stomach leaning against the bed as you looked up at her, tight lipped smile on your lips. "they always have the same plot and they're so... gory." it wasn't that you were scared of them necessarily. don't get me wrong, sometimes you're halfway behind ellie, screaming in her shoulder at what you're watching but even then, you still wouldn't choose to watch horror movies even without all the jump scares.

"yeah, yeah." she rolled her eyes again, she seemingly always did that when you were around. "just say you're a pussy."

you narrowed your eyes at her. "am not."

"annabell." the one word sent shivers down your spine.

"that's different." you defended. you hated the movie more than anything else in the entire world, probably even more than you hated ellie's silly jokes (you loved them really).

she cocked a brow. "how so?"

"because!" you exclaimed, flopping onto your back. "that's a scary doll that'll break into my house while i'm sleeping and―i don't know find some really creepy way to kill me. but ghostface?" you huffed out a giggle. "I could take him on."

this time, ellie tilted her head, a smirk on her lips. "really?" as if she didn't believe you at all.

you frowned at that, did she not think you were strong? you liked to believe you were strong, strong enough to take on ghostface? perhaps not. "i could take you on." you scoffed, looking at her arms.

although you wish you hadn't. the way they flexed under her shirt was enough to have your stomach rolling. her arms were the very thing that had you squirming, they were so defined and toned, along with her stomach, showing you what true muscle she had. your head felt nauseous merely looking at her.

she was getting closer to you, watching as you observed her, eyes never leaving her body. "that so?" teasing voice.

but you didn't respond with words, a mere "mhm." falling from your lips though it sort of sounded like a mix between a hum and a whine, you were failing so horribly at keeping your little secret inside.

"show me then."

you'd done this with ellie before, giggles falling from the bedroom door as you attempted to pin ellie down but right now felt so different. the air was off and the tension was rising.

at first, you tried to play it off. you playfully grabbed at her wrist, trying to push her onto the bed. usually, she'd let you win. she loved to see that victorious smirk on your face after she let you beat her. in the back of your head you'd know, though. you could never beat ellie.

but this time, she didn't let you win.

this time, she flipped your wrists and then you completely. your eyes widened when you realised how strong she was. you always knew she was strong, don't get me wrong but never had you been pinned down by her with such force behind her hands. you felt your face heat up and your stomach swirl as the girl landed above you, her head looking down at you with a smirk playing on her lips.

this time, she won.

"whatever." with a little shove, you manged to push her off. she let you, grinning as she sat back on the bed, pride swelling in her chest as she watched you flusteredly try to hide your face. "i have to go shower."

"good." she joked, watching you get up from the bed. "you fucking stink." she watched you grin and stick your tongue out at her, she did the very same in response, watching you enter your bathroom with clothes that had been sitting on your chair now in your hands.

and then, she was alone.

you'd done this the other day, about a week ago and everything changed. it was the day that ellie did the very thing she swore she'd never do and yet she did it anyway.

she just couldn't help herself.

when you were in the bathroom, showering, she'd reached over to the nightstand to look at the photograph you had on it, you and her, icecream on her nose and smeared on your cheek. a week ago, she'd grinned at it, thinking it was the most heartwarming thing she'd seen in months. then, her eyes had glanced to the little pink book that lay beneath it.

a month ago, she'd swear she'd never go near the thing, ever.

a week ago, she opened it and her eyes scanned the page.

she hadn't had any bad intentions, not really. she was just curious as to what you wrote about, what you were keeping so hidden from your dear, beloved best friend. and when she started, she couldn't stop. she soon realised that the lovely words scrawled across the page weren't about how the sunlight peeked through the clouds or how the rain fell into the puddles collected on the ground. the words were about her.

soon enough, she'd made herself believe that if the words were about her, surely, she should be allowed to read it, it was only right.

she waited until the batrhoom door closed before she reached over to the side of the bed. she knew it was wrong, so wrong, it was an invasion of privacy and she knew you'd probably burst into tears if you'd seen it. but you know what they say, curiosity kills the cat.

she placed the book on the bed, attempting to pick up where she left off.

i just can't help but like her!! what does any of this meannnn??? you don't touch someone like that as a friend, you don't call your 'friends' names like that, it's not normal!! i'm reading into this. i always fucking do this, i read into it and then bam! that's it! i'm gonna loose her to this stupid crush. it's not a crush, i think i'm in love with her. no, i can't be. it's a silly crush and it'll be gone in a day. EVEN THOUGH IT'S BEEN YEARS!! i hate myself and the only option is to throw myself off of a fucking cli―

"els, i think i left my―" she'd never shut something so fast in her entire life. ellie's wide eyes shot up, looking at you standing in the front of the bathroom doorway. "w-what are you doing?" you'd barely registered what'd happened, your eyes already burning.

"shit." there really was no way of defending herself. you'd caught her red handed with the book sitting on the bed. "darling, i didn't―"

"you read it." you deadpanned, feeling the tears begin to well up in your eyes. "you read it, you promised me you wouldn't read it!"

but ellie was already standing from the bed, discarding the book completely. "i know, angel, i know, i'm sorry i jus―"

she was attempting to race to the other side of the room, get to you and presumably comfort you. she couldn't stand the tears in your eyes. "do you know?" that you've been helplessly in love with her the past four years and running? her silence gave a response but not one that you were particularly happy with. "do you know?"

her voice was a meak whisper. "yeah, baby, i know."

humiliation, embarrassment, shame,

all you could feel.

you'd been helplessly and hopelessly in love with ellie for as long as time yet never have you truly worried about it getting back to her. dina knew but she'd never squeal, neither would jesse if he knew what was good for him.

that little pink book didn't just know briefly of this 'fleeting crush' it knew everything, every minor detail. ellie consumed the pages, every pen stroke had her name on it. you were sure that the book knew more about this crush than you could ever grasp.

"hey, hey, don't cry." she was up in your face, hands attempting to hold your face, soothing you gently. "hey, i'm sorry, i'm sorry." she kept repeating everything but nothing could stop the way your lip wobbled and your eyes filled to the brim, the dam breaking as a fat tear rolled down your cheek. "okay, just―"

ellie was panicking. she knew how you could get, once you started crying it was damn near impossible to get you to stop. the way your lip trembled served as a constant reminder that she had been the one to put you in this situation, she had made you cry.

before you could even thin, there was a big black book being shoved in your hands. you didn't think to look down, mind to foggy and far away but ellie was already opening it up for you. "angel, look, see?" finally, you pulled your eyes away from the little pink book on your bed, eyes trailing down to the sketchbook. ellie briefly flickered through the pages, your brows pinched together. were they... drawings of you? "i do it too, see?" had anyone ever put their heart on the line merely to get you to stop crying? no. then again, nobody else had ever been quite like ellie williams.

you sniffled, glancing at one of the pictures. it looked so real, as if you were looking at yourself right now, eyes shut and lips sort of smashed against the pillow. "am i sleeping?" you sniffled, mouth sort of dry.

ellie found herself a dark crimson. "well―yeah." she only now realised what she'd done. she just wanted you to stop crying, she didn't think of what she was doing to herself, outing herself like that. then again, it was only right as she'd outed you before.

you swallowed thickly, wiping the tears away with your sleeve. "'s really stalkerish, els." you mumbled and she couldn't help but grin at you.

"i'm really sorry." her voice low enough to have you glancing up at her, straining your ears. "i shouldn't have read it."

you nodded your head. "you shouldn't have." but you couldn't help but feel a little weight lift off your chest. she knew now, at least you'd no longer have to hide it.

once again it left you wondering where you stood.

ellie could see the way your eyes went sort of foggy, blocking her out. she wondered what you were thinking now. "y/n?"

finally, you pulled your eyes away from the ground, looking at her perfect green eyes.

"i love you too."

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

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donutz · 2 months

Text

Yandere Catnap x female Smiling Critter cat reader

Request from Wattpad-! Here you go Buttmens(💀)☆

Being locked up in these cells is insufferable.

Catnap and I can’t do anything.

We both operate on sleeping. So we both have the red gas. We both used it, it was built into our system. Yet we end up into these cells for it. Apparently, it causes violent nightmares. From Catnap’s gas. Neither the workers nor I know if my gas causes nightmares.

They still put me in containment. Plus, I was similar to Catnap, not approaching the kids. So they were all wary about me and that gas product.

Even when Catnap and I are locked up, we still communicate. Not verbally. Telepathically, you could say. We intertwine our tails to communicate. Our tails are very long so it’s not hard.

Catnap’s planning to kill the people in this place. To work with Experiment 1006, seeing him as a god, and he’ll save us. Considering Catnap is just a kid(Hmm… I wonder why I bolded, underlined, and italicized the word kid… Hmm…)

You’d think he’d be joking because he’s a kid. But, considering who Catnap is, he’s not. At random times of the day he’d whisper, “THE PROTOTYPE WILL SAVE US.” Or something like that.

I’m not sure if I’ll follow Prototype—

“Hey guys…”

The sound of your bright friend’s voice interrupted both of your thoughts.

“Uhm. A kid drew both of you, they were wondering if you were going to come back…” He gave you two the kid’s drawings, it was sloppy, but you appreciated it.

“Do you… Know, when you two are coming back…?” You said no, while Catnap didn’t answer.

“Oh…”

You reach your paw out the cell, and put your finger on Dogday’s head. You then move it to his ears, petting him.

“We’ll come back, Dogday. Eventually.”

Moving to the underside of his chin, you give him scratches.

“Mm.. Okay!” His tail was wagging pretty fast, as he is a dog.

Then you gave him a small poke on his nose, “Now you go on and make the kids happy, okay?” You said.

“Mhm! Bye you two!” He waved his paw, signaling his goodbyes.

Normally, from you doing that to someone. Catnap would get pretty jealous. But it’s Dogday. So it’s okay. Catnap trusts Dogday, he knows he wouldn’t do that. Not to Catnap.

Though you could still see the jealousy on his face. He gave you that spooooky scare, silently communicating on why you did it.

“It was because I knew he needed some comfort Catnap. We’ll stay together until the end.” (Not in the romantic adult way, like the way when kids got little crushes on each other or somethin. The type you’d see in little kids shows, it’s rare, but it’s there. I will NOT make the reader feel that way about Catnap).

Then he stopped looking so jealous.

Now it’s the day. The day Catnap will act out, he’s already out of his cell, because he snuck the worker’s keys. Then he let you out.

“Do you… Want to kill with me…?” He asked.

You weren’t too sure. Not the critters, not the toys. Not any of the toys. Just the bad adults and stuff.

“Only the bad adults..” You answered, you weren’t sure if he’d accept the answer, but thankfully he did. He then left.

You were alone now.

‘I should alert the critters.’ You thought.

They were all in a room, then you rushed into it.

“YOU ALL NEED TO RUN. GET THE KIDS TO A SAFE PLACE. SOMETHING BAD WILL HAPPEN ANY SECOND—”

Screams. Men and women, kids. They were all yelling and screaming. Out of fear, not of joy. The critters were confused? What were you talking about? Why did they hear someone scream? And why wasn’t it from joy?

“GET THE KIDS. NOW.” They were all asking questions, but followed along. Well, Dogday mainly did, as the leader he multitasked. Getting the critters and kids safe. Though it wasn’t very successful.

You had to run. Run over to kill the ‘bad adults’. Like you said you would.

A few minutes later, you were managing to get the kids to a safe place while looking for your targets. You found it. The man who tortured and teased you and Catnap.

You can’t go back on this now.

You scruffed him with your paw and hesitantly ate him. Your pupils dilated. The taste was wonderful. You didn’t care about the kids anymore, you killed them. Threw them roughly to a wall, stomped on them, y’know, to put them out of their misery before you ate them?

You still had somewhat of a heart. Even killing all of these innocent children.

Ugh. That sounds gross, the adrenaline wore off for a second, and you could see the murder you caused.

All the blood, dead bodies. That was because of you! Catnap's so proud of you for doing such a good job!

He's quite surprised that you even got the courage to kill people. You were on the nicer side, trying to not have Catnap escalate things in his cold head(Even at his young age).

So to see you murdering people?! It was very entertaining.

You were looking at the bodies. Just staring. Then you saw Catnap. He walked up to you.

“Good… Job.” He praised.

Your pupils dilated from that. He rubbed his head against yours, cuddling with you slightly.

You could hear his purrs!

You cuddled back, purring. Just you two being cats. Extracting all of the— blood. That's spread around the place.

You're just a cat ^_^.

After the hour of joy, Catnap and you were just searching over the place, making sure there were no survivors. Though, Catnap sped away, possibly looking for someone.

You hoped Dogday was safe.

10 years later, you now ‘worshiped’ Catnap.

The way you thought about Catnap is the way Catnap thought about the Prototype.

Sadly, Dogday didn't believe in the Prototype. So he's… Chained up. You comfort him at times, Catnap doesn't really let you be around him. But you know he won't do anything, as long as he's watching.

Other than that you two were the cuddliest kittens ever!!!

Such a cute cat duo!!

You two would be a star if you didn't murder people.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #smiling critters #female reader #yandere #yandere poppy playtime #catnap #yandere catnap #yandere catnap x reader #yandere catnap x female reader #yandere catnap x female smiling critter cat reader #smiling critter cat reader #female smiling critter cat reader

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gretavanlace · 1 month

Text

Hush

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only Minors do not interact

Warnings: graphic sexual content, dirty talk, choking, light degradation, praise, slight dom/sub/switch dynamic, language, etc

Josh is vocal.

That is certainly no secret.

Anyone who has watched him strut about a stage, microphone in hand, knows that.

Off stage, he talks incessantly about both the things that matter to him, and the mundane. Things he is passionate about. Things that light fires within him and drive him to create and pack this world as full of his heart as he possibly can. Arbitrary ideas and notions. Strange ponderings.

Pontification, he likes to call it.

He’s also vocally boisterous when agitated. He loathes waiting, and will mutter complaints near your ear in line until you’re willing your eyes not to roll. A phone call to vent about the antics of one brother or another from the studio is a regular occurrence and can be counted on just like death and taxes.

“Samuel was even later than I was,” he might huff, “and now Jake’s guitar needs to be restrung because fuck this whole world if he has to use a backup. I hate them, and I want to come home to you, light of my life, keeper of the stars, goddess of all that is— oh, we’re ready…gotta go.”

Josh murmurs in his sleep, sings in the shower, talks himself through menial tasks, hums in the grocery store, carries on one-sided conversations with the cat who simply chirps along while swirling around his ankles.

At least twice a night he snatches you from drifting off to sleep with a question: Do you think I should call my mom more? If I miss her, she must miss me. Or, Did I ever tell you about that time that Jake ate shit and fell in the lake? I was thinking about it today, and…

Random thoughts and idle musings he can’t help but verbalize, you hear them all. Mostly. The ones you aren’t privy to, fall upon the nearest ear - but he’s so fucking charming even a stranger is happy to play sounding board.

Josh is also expressive when you’re wrapped up in soft, linen sheets…or wherever else he’s decided he can no longer wait to have you.

Whispers of devotion swelling like a gentle breeze across the hum of your pulse when he makes love to you. Filthy, dirty, blush-inducing declarations when he’s fucking into your trembling body like he’ll never touch it again.

And you love it…all of it. But now - with your visiting sister slumbering in the guest room on the other side of the wall - is certainly not the time.

“Baby, please…” his mouth is sucking gently along your collarbone as he grinds into you slowly, friction hard and constant against your greedy, swollen clit, “let me fuck you faster…c’mon, I need it.”

”What you need, is to be quiet,” your voice is a stern whisper, but your hands are tender in his hair.

He could easily set a pace as brutal as he desired if he felt inclined to disobey…but, ever the sweetest switch, he has opted to play nice tonight.

”I’ll be quiet,” he promises. It is a lie he truly believes, and to prove that point, you clench around him and draw forth a pitiful groan from deep within his chest.

A swift pinch at his side serves as punishment ”Shut. Up.”

”Fuck you,” he sounds deliciously desperate, “You did that on purpose. Squeezing me with that beautiful pussy…goddamn.”

”What’s going to happen if I let you make me cum? Hmm?” Your mouth falls into a delicate pout as if you just feel so sorry for him, “You know how tight I get. How I just hug your cock all snug and wet…”

”And warm,” he adds, lost in it, daydreaming in the dark of night and twitching inside the embrace of your cunt, “Soft as satin, sucking me right in…oh my god, baby, please.”

He begins moving with more purpose, dragging the head of his cock against that lovely little spot that will render you incoherent if you allow it to.

”Oh my god, please,” you mock quietly, “Look at you Joshua, what a whiny baby. What are you begging for? Pussy? Is that what you need?”

He nods frantically against your sternum, as though he doesn’t trust himself to look up at you.

You feign confusion wickedly “But you’ve got that. You’re already inside me…”

“Faster,” he breathes, biting and mouthing at your shoulder now, “Need it faster, and harder. It’s too slow, I need more.”

Clicking your tongue like he is a poor, pathetic sight to behold, you shake your head, “Slow down.”

”No, please don’t make me,” he slows, as instructed, but trails off with a whimper.

So, maybe there’s no ‘like’ about it, maybe he really is a poor, pathetic sight to behold. Yes, you decide, that’s exactly what he is…

…so why not push him even further?

With a swift tug on the roots of his curls, you issue an order ”Stay still.”

Despondent and mournful, he groans into the crook of your neck and grabs at your hips so tightly you’ll be admiring raspberry bruises in the mirror come morning. “C’mon, baby girl…lemme take it. I fucking want it.”

If he were looking at you, he’d see the devilish gleam in your eye. Aren’t you an awful witch tonight? “What? Don’t you like it when I keep your pretty cock warm for you?”

He flexes hard inside of you, simply to gain even a hint of friction. “You’re being so fucking mean.”

”Mean?” You coil around the throbbing length of him and he shudders out the tiniest sound, “If I was mean, I’d lock your pretty cock in a cage and fuck your face all night.”

For a moment, he shirks his submissive edge and hisses in your ear, low and slow, “Liar. Not with little sister in the next room…you couldn’t keep quiet with my face between your legs if someone fucking paid you to.”

In response, you shove him back and roll until your thighs are locked around his waist, the crown of his cock nestled against your clit as your hips swivel heated circles.

”Does that feel good, baby?” You’re taunting him cruelly while, in contrast, lovingly reaching up to smooth the furrow from his brow. “Does that just feel so good?”

”Wanna put it back inside,” his eyes squint shut and anyone who didn’t know better might think his expression is that of suffering. “Perfect fucking cunt, so tight, so…”

”Shh,” you quiet him with a hand wrapped around his throat, relishing the way his adam’s apple slides against your palm when he swallows hard, “shut your mouth for once.”

He’s staring up at you, wide-eyed and needy, like you painted the stars in the sky, gorgeous and glittering, just for him…and how you wish that were true. How you wish you could give him something so profound. Something worthy of his light.

”I won’t make a sound,” his vow sounds out, a cross between the honesty he wishes it to be rooted in, and the lie he knows it to be. “C’mon baby, please…fuck me sweet.”

Does he really want it sweet? Or is he simply aware that that’s all he is capable of quietly handling?

Likely the latter.

Your fingers have found your nipples, twisting and tugging on them as they tighten into pink pebbles that send shivers crawling down into your stomach with every pull. His eyes lock in on you, watching you tease them as his breathing kicks up into a frenzy.

“You’re pushing it,” he warns, grip pulling you down closer as he rocks his hips up to meet you. “Keep it up and I’m gonna fucking take it. Be a good girl now, baby…I’m done with your shit.”

”Yeah?” Your eyebrow raises in silent challenge. Does he have it in him tonight?

“Yeah.” He nods, licking his thumb to swirl much too gently across your clit.

”I think you should just behave and be grateful for what you’re—“

Stunned and dazed, the room blurs around you as you’re flipped and tossed until your cheek is pressed against the cool, crisp sheets. They smell of him, and you breathe Josh in until your lungs ache while his cock teases at your entrance from behind.

His body folds over yours until his lips sweep the shell of your ear, “You’ve done it now, baby girl. Better be quiet, yeah? Not a sound.”

With a swift snap of his hips, the silken glide of his cock fills you full as his palm presses against your lips to muffle the high-pitched moan that gasps out of you.

”Now who’s the whiny baby?” his perfect teeth sink into your earlobe and tug until it blooms with heat. The moan that seeps into his soft skin causes his lips to curl into a smirk you can feel. “This is what you wanted, you think I don’t know that?”

He has begun moving at an excruciatingly slow place, the head of his cock dragging gently inside you just right…but you need more.

”You think I didn’t know that you wanted me to just fucking take it all along?”

You nod urgently, tangling your hair against the pillowcase. Of course he knew, he knows you better than you know yourself. There are no secrets to be hidden away when it comes to Joshua. He hunts each and every one down like glittering treasure with ease…your body his map, the pools of your eyes ciphers he decodes without even trying.

His tongue is dancing its way along your jaw now, springing chills to life upon your flushed skin ”Tell me how good my cock feels and I’ll fuck you full.”

Another woeful sound shakes out of you and a rumbling, gravelly laugh huffs warm against your cheek, “My poor, sweet baby can dish it just fine tonight, but she can’t take it? Is that it?”

With a shhh that makes you feel weighed down heavy with lust, he lifts his palm away from your mouth. “I can take it,” you promise in a hush, “Please…I can take it, I swear.”

He is so still inside you, but the familiar stretch is enough to send a tremble tripping up your spine, spider-cracking like a jolt of electric pleasure. “But can you take it quietly? Can you be a real good girl or should I gag you like a whore?”

”I’ll be a good girl,” you breathe, relishing the sound that slips out of him, a cross between famished desire and worshipful devotion.

“Yeah?” He’s enjoying this little game too much to wave goodbye to it just yet, “You’ll be a good girl if I give you this cock?” He presses in so deeply there’s nothing left for him to give, “You’ll take it quietly and squeeze it nice and tight? Soak it with your little wet cunt when I make you cum?”

He can feel you clenching already, twisting around him like a fist, milking him, pulling him in, starved for more.

”Yes, yes, yes,” you chant softly, begging for him to get on with it, “Just fuck me, Josh…please,”

There’s that sinful mouth of his again, ghosting over your ear, “Just fuck me Josh,” he mocks in a velvet whisper, “Please.”

A sob escapes you and turns the apples of your cheeks pink…he echoes the sound back to you and fans the flames of your delectable shame.

”Quiet now, baby…” he reminds you, tone taunting and laced with self-satisfaction, “You just bite down on the pillow if it gets to be too much, and I’ll bite down on you.”

You tighten around him at the mere thought of it and tug an achingly gorgeous grunt from deep within his chest, “You like that? You want me to bite you to keep quiet? Mark you up all pretty?”

”Fuck…” you reach back and grab for him, fingers sinking into the curve of his waist, begging for it with your entire body.

You can’t seem to manage much more, but it’s enough for him, and with a swift pull back, he snaps his hips hard and fast and sets a relentlessly feral pace in motion.

The head of his cock, thick and suede-soft, kisses your cervix with each inward push, driving a wild sound out of you that you smother into the pillow, tongue dragging against the worn cotton as though it were his mouth.

His teeth are peppering your back and shoulders, gnashing his own moans way down deep into your flesh where you will secret them away forever. He gifts each sound to you on a gorgeous, stinging platter and you only want more, more, more. It is never enough with him…you are gluttonous for whatever he sees fit to offer.

”You feel so fucking good, baby,” it comes undulating across your cheekbone like a warm, languorous breeze, “So fucking wet, I can feel you all over me. You’re gonna make me cum.”

He grows impossibly hard within you and that, along with the filth he is sighing into the night and the drags of his teeth, sends you careening over the edge you had no idea you were so close to. You explode around him, and his weight grows heavier atop you as his thrusts lose rhythm.

“That’s it,” his praise is clipped and winded, “just - fuck - just like that. Keep going, so tight, messy pretty fucking pussy, make me cum, baby, please…make me fucking cum.”

He’s babbling like a brook you want to lie beside and listen to for the rest of your life. So beautiful. So Josh. But so quietly, and you know how difficult it must be for him, how hard he must be trying, and you love him all the more for it.

With a final, vicious bite, he coaxes a hiss out of you that makes him see stars as he lets go, fucking himself deeper and deeper as he rides it out, moans pressed into your glazed, shivering body like flowers in between the pages of a book.

And still, you only want more. You want his jaw to lock, his teeth to break the skin, to draw blood, to scar you…soft pink, raised marks tattooed by his kiss to remind you.

A long sigh flutters your hair, and your eyes drift closed at the soothing lilt of the sound as his fingers begin to card through your hair.

”You thirsty, baby?” His nose nuzzles at you, drawing forth a lazy smile that is half smashed into the pillow.

“Yes, but stay a little longer.”

He cuddles down into you, cheek to cheek, the weight of his body keeping you warm and safe in the silence.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @profitofthedune @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @jakeslovehandles @jakesgrapejuice @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #fanfic #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf fic #josh kiszka #josh kiskza smut #gvf josh #josh kiszka fic #josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka x reader #josh gvf #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut

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sterlingsilver-starlight · 5 months

Text

Talk Too Much 💘

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Female Reader

Genres: Hurt/comfort, angst, drama, fluff, romance

Content Warnings: flashbacks of emotional abuse (reader has emotionally abusive mother), self-harm (briefly graphic), implied suicidal thoughts, brief strong language (mild throughout), intimate moments (very steamy makeout session, but nothing further)

Word Count: 3195 words

Summary: When Reader excuses herself to the bathroom, Seonghwa begins to grow suspicious as minutes turn into an unusually long absence. Can he unravel the truth behind her melancholy, and perhaps something deeper?

Inspirations: During the sadder parts, “Kamihitoe” by Uru and this slowed/reverbed version of Lolo Zouaï’s “Desert Rose” were my comfort. And then for the cute parts, BLACKSWAN’s “Cat & Mouse” :)

(I love the title GIF for this 🤭 but I also am still recovering from the Arriba one…I swear, I will not be the same when the full song drops in a week 😩🥵) I had something like an epiphany while writing this…the comforting words resonate on many levels, and I had to remind myself that people like that do exist out there. Even if there is someone in your life who throws harsh words or vibes your way, that’s not to say someone who does the exact opposite might not cross paths with you, too ✨🫶🏼

Also please note: This is in no way supposed to represent or depict the actual Park Seonghwa; this is just created for storytelling/entertainment purposes only :D

A hard swallow, followed by the relentless jab of another burgeoning stomachache. You set your fork down again, barely scraping the potatoes at the edge of your plate.

“Hwa, I…I don’t feel too good. I can’t eat this right now.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile as you got up from your seat. “It’s alright. Just…let me know if you need something. Okay?”

You offered a small smile, biting your lip. “Y-yeah. Okay.”

The bite dug deep enough to draw blood, but you tasted nothing like iron on your tongue. It was a flavor you had become all too accustomed to, one too bittersweet to fully enjoy or shy away from.

As soon as you were out of your friend’s line of sight, you bolted down the hall for the bathroom, only slowing down once you’d gone inside and shut the door.

A click at the knob. A snap of the fingers, idiosyncratically, to distract yourself from the sudden echo the lock gave. Did he hear that?

You hoped to God not.

Seonghwa was your most trusted confidant, but even the strongest of bonds could harbor skeletons in the closet, so as far as you were concerned, it would need to stay that way until you were able to get over this on your own.

Slumping against the door, you let yourself slide down to the ground, hugging your knees as they bunched up against your chest.

You didn’t know what you would ever do if he found out. About the thoughts, about the self-hatred…

Heck, let alone the self-harm.

Seonghwa was the twinkling star in your life, lighting up any room he entered, constantly finding ways to make you crack a smile from absolutely nothing. He was too precious for this world, you were sure of it.

Which is why, on this otherwise fine and calm evening, you found yourself yet again questioning why in the hell he put up with you as much as he did.

What if you were just fooling yourself? What if this persona you felt from your very core was nothing more than an act, masquerading from the demon that had hidden inside you from years long past?

A silent cry threatened to surface. You took a sharp breath and reached in your pocket, fumbling around until you felt what you had been looking for: a rusted metal nail file.

The lump in your throat made you feel guiltier. It’d been mere days since you’d promised yourself that this wasn’t going to be an option…

Again.

But though time could heal wounds, it could only erase so many still embedded within your subconscious, still playing like a broken record during your moments of uncertainty and vulnerability.

“Do you ever shut up?! I swear, one more word and I’ll rip your tongue off!”

You bit your lip harder, genuinely wanting to taste the pain. What did it matter anymore?

“Sure, keep doing that shit. So we can all feel sorry for you and tiptoe around your stupid feelings? I don’t think so!”

You gasped with every memory, tears blinding and blurring your bearings, the file now slashing oh-so elegantly through your flesh like a knife through butter.

“Slam your door again and I’ll make sure your head is the next thing that slams against the wall!”

You almost didn’t notice the crimson streaming down your arm, or the way it cascaded onto your other hand, dyeing the creases of your palm in a heartbeat, while numbness continued feeding your indifference.

Maybe there is no purpose to my life. Maybe I’m just meant to be a casualty and —

“Y/n?” You jolted, the three knocks on the door vibrating through your skull.

But you said nothing, afraid even a single syllable would give away your current state of mind.

“Y/n?” Seonghwa repeated, the worry carrying in his voice.

Panic kicked in and you started hyperventilating. Much to your chagrin, however, that only alerted him more.

“Okay, I-I’m coming in.” You heard the twists and click of the knob — darn it, I forgot he has keys for the place — and hastily shuffled over to the adjacent wall as he squeezed his way into the bathroom.

A sharp gasp hushed within the small room. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene before him: the rusted nail file still in your hand, the blood-stained arm, the haunted look on your face — it broke your heart, to have him see you like this.

What you didn’t realize, though, was just how much his heart was breaking.

“Hwa, I…I’m sorry.” You hugged yourself tighter, wanting nothing more than to be a turtle hidden inside its shell.

“Y/n…what happened?” His voice was laced with worry as he carefully approached you.

You tried to conceal the evidence, quickly slipping the file back into your pocket and attempting to wipe away the blood with the hem of your sleeve. But the damage had already been done. “I…I just had a little accident, is all. N-no big deal,” you stammered, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked away.

He crouched down in front of you, gently lifting your chin to meet his eyes. “Y/n, don’t lie to me. What’s going on?”

A lump formed in your throat, and for a moment, you debated whether to spill your darkest secrets or to continue this facade. But when you saw the hurt in his eyes, you knew what your answer must be.

“I…I’ve been struggling, Hwa. There’s this darkness inside of me that just won’t go away,” you whispered finally, trying not to cry mid-sentence.

His expression softened, and he pulled you into an embrace. “You don’t have to face it alone, Y/n. I’m right here for you, always.”

The warmth of his hug felt like a lifeline, a tether grounding you in this moment of many that felt overwhelmingly chaotic. Tears streamed down your face as you clung to him tightly, slowly but surely releasing the weight that you had been carrying alone for far too long.

Seonghwa pulled away slowly, his hands holding yours gently. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? And then we can talk about this, together.”

You nodded, rubbing your thumbs against his in return. “Okay.”

He helped you to a standing position, and from there you both walked over to the medicine cabinet: you leaning slightly on the sink countertop, him removing a roll of gauze, bandages, and a few creams. Grabbing a nearby cloth to run it under warm water, you inhaled nervously. As he began tending to the wounds on your arm, still streaked in raw red, you hesitated, grappling with the storm of emotions brewing deep down. The bathroom felt like a fragile sanctuary, and you were on the verge of shattering its peace with the weight of your confessions.

“Hwa,” you began hesitantly, “I’ve…heard things. About myself. Terrible things that echo in my mind every day.”

He looked up at you, eyes brimming with a warm understanding. “It’s okay. Tell me as much or as little as you need to.”

With a shaky breath, you started to unravel the web of painful words that had been haunting you, from the cruel insults and relentless belittlement at home to the internalized hatred that had since taken root in your heart.

“I’m a failure. That’s what she says. My own blood mother.” You shuddered. “That I’m a disappointment, a burden…that her life would have been better if not for the presence of such an ungrateful bitch like me…t-that I ruin everything around me.” Your voice wavered as you stopped to catch a breath.

Seonghwa’s expression tightened with anger. “Y/n, believe me when I say you are none, and I mean absolutely none, of those things. You are strong, kind, and worthy of love. Don’t believe those lies. Please.”

You just shook your head. “I can’t accept your kind pity, though, Hwa.” Tears welled and clouded your vision as you continued. “She said I should be grateful that anyone tolerates me at all, that I’m lucky to have friends because I don’t deserve them…that I’m not good enough for anyone out there.”

His eyes softened with empathy. “Y/n, you’re more than good enough. You’re fucking incredible, and I…I care about you deeply.”

Your eyes widened at his choice of words, confusion and hope written all over your face. “Why, Hwa? Why would you care about someone like me?”

He sighed, setting aside the cloth, and cupped your face with his hands. “Because you’re not just someone, Y/n. You’re a remarkable person. Your strength, your kindness — it shines through even in your darkest moments. And…” He chuckled slightly. “I like you. More than just as a friend.”

A gasp caught in your throat, and time became still within the room as his confession hung in the air. Seonghwa’s eyes searched yours for a response, but you remained silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

A spark of worry flickered across his face. “I-I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said —”

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “No, Hwa. I’m honestly really glad you did. I just…I need a moment to process everything. It’s a lot, but I really appreciate your courage to tell me that.”

His shoulders relaxed, a relieved smile breaking through. “I understand. Take all the time you need.”

He resumed cleaning your cuts, all the while as you couldn’t shake the startling but exciting realization that maybe, just maybe, someone as wonderful as Hwa could see past these insecurities, could see you for you.

An almost eerie silence hung between you two, broken only by the sound of running water as you rinsed off spots of leftover blood. Hwa glanced at you, debating whether or not to break the ice.

“To be honest,” you admitted in a voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt good enough for someone like you.”

He scoffed lightly, covering your hand with his. “Y/n, you’re more than enough. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

His words lingered in the air, a poignant moment of vulnerability shared in the dimly lit bathroom.

And then something shifted.

With a playful smirk, you couldn’t help but bring up your insecurities, caught in a suddenly desperate vying to test the waters and see how he would take it. “Come on, don’t be silly, Hwa. I mean, look at me!” You raised an eyebrow at him, the hint of a smile teasing at your lips.

He took the bait. “Okay, and? What about it?”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “You gotta be kidding. I mean, for starters, I’m not even skinny, my face is rounder than the boba in that milk tea you were swirling around the other day” — he broke into a fit of laughter at this, prompting you to punch him gently on the arm (“Hwa, I’m being serious!”) before resuming your, he thought, rather dramatic speech — “and my body is far from what’s considered attractive these days.” You sighed, clenching and unclenching your fists before inspecting yourself through the bathroom mirror. “Especially with these…” You gestured vaguely to your rounded backside and thick thighs.

Hwa’s low, throaty chuckle reverberated in the bathroom, his eyes never leaving yours. “Y/n, you really think any of that matters to me?” He shook his head, his gaze intense. “You’re focusing on things that turn me on more than you could possibly know.”

To say you were surprised — curious, even — was an understatement. “W-what do you mean?” you dared to ask.

He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Your curves, the roundness of your face, that body you seem to underestimate so much — they’re all things I fantasize about more when I’m around you.” His words sent a thrill down your spine, and you felt a warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach.

“But why?” you managed to stutter out, genuinely baffled.

Hwa pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning you up and down. “Because, Y/n, it’s those very things that make you uniquely you. There’s…an allure throughout, if I’m being honest…and your body is nothing short of perfection in my eyes.”

He paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And let me tell you,” he continued, snaking his fingers across one of your thighs, massaging it with his thumb, “these parts of you aren’t just attractive. They’re downright irresistible.”

Your breath caught in your throat, desire rushing through your veins as he leaned in again, his fingers tracing patterns that left your skin tingling. “I think about you in ways that would make you blush,” he admitted, his voice a low murmur. “You’re beautiful, Y/n. In every way imaginable.”

With that, he closed the distance between your lips, initiating a kiss that held the weight of his confession. The bathroom seemed to vanish into the distance as Hwa’s lips kept meeting yours in a slow, tantalizing dance, each kiss a revelation of shared desire. His hands, warm and possessive, explored the curves of your body with a deliberate sensuality. Fingers traced the contours of your back, leaving a trail of trickling sensations in their wake. As the kiss deepened, his touch became more fervent, a silent promise of passion yet to unfold.

Your hands found their way into his soft, tousled hair, fingers threading through the strands as you pulled him closer. His tongue prodded your bottom lip playfully until you indulged him, allowing the sensation of his tongue to slide against and around yours, igniting a fervor that sent electrical currents through every nerve ending.

The room seemed to get hotter and hotter, but nothing could have curbed the chill in your spine by this point. Hwa’s touch was both gentle and confident, a melody of desire that crescendoed as his kisses lingered longer and he began sucking your tongue slowly, making you moan ever so softly into his mouth.

Your own hands mirrored his movements, traveling across the edges and ridges of his chest, feeling the rhythmic beat of his heart beneath your touch. The bathroom echoed with intertwined breaths and whispered promises.

As the intensity built, you couldn’t help but straddle his lap, your bodies pressing together with an urgency that mirrored the passion between you. Hwa’s lips trailed from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses. Moans continued escaping your lips as you felt his teeth grazing gently down the side of your neck. You clung to him, lost in the intoxication of the moment.

Your heartbeats all but synchronized as his lips found their way to your collarbone, his whispers of passion mingling with your soft gasps. He pulled back slightly, eyes looking deep into yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a velvet caress that sent shivers down your spine. He leaned in to place gentle kisses on your earlobe, his breath sending a flutter of anticipation through you. “I want you to feel cherished, desired, and free from any doubt about your body,” he whispered finally, his tone laced with sensual liberation.

His hands, like flames against your skin, caressed the small of your back. The room was filled with the harmony of your shared desire, moans and breaths alike embellishing the melody sounding strong.

As sweat dripped down your foreheads, the intensity reached its peak, and with a shared understanding, you both began to ease out of the fervent exchange. Hwa’s lips lingered on yours for a moment, a final note in the passionate composition.

His arms wrapped around you, nestling you within the sweet scent of his aroma, heaving heavily, slowly, as you both took a moment to catch your breath. You could spot the glimpse of a tender smile dancing on his lips. “See, Y/n, you talk too much,” he teased, his eyes alight with affection.

You chuckled finally, feeling a warmth enveloping you. “Maybe I do,” you agreed, “but I think I like it that way.”

Hwa’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he smirked at you playfully. “Well, you better, because I enjoy every word,” he smiled, leaning in to peck you briefly on the lips.

As you both settled into a cuddle, an air of contentment permeated within your space. Hwa’s fingers traced soothing patterns on your back as he spoke. “You know…I think we should have a date tomorrow. I want to take you out. Just the two of us.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the idea. “A date, huh? Where are we going?”

Hwa’s playful grin widened. “Somewhere nice, but you better promise me you won’t just order a small appetizer. I want you to enjoy the food, Y/n.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Alright, alright. No small appetizers. Got it. But you’ll have to deal with me talking your ear off about how delicious everything is.”

Hwa leaned in, stealing another quick kiss. “I can’t wait. And besides, I enjoy every word, remember?”

The banter continued as you both playfully argued about your plans. Hwa grinned mischievously, glad that you were cutting loose for a change and genuinely enjoying yourself now. “And promise me, no salads as the main course. We’re going for the good stuff if this is a date.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Excuse me? Salads are healthy and delicious.”

He chuckled. “Healthy? Yes. Delicious? Debatable. We’re going for flavor explosions, Y/n, not the world’s best landscape on a plate.”

You countered with a smirk. “Okay, first of all, tabbouleh is to die for. And maybe I like my explosions with a side of greens.”

Hwa pretended to gasp, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. “You’re breaking my heart. And here I thought we had a connection.”

You burst into laughter, eyes watering within seconds. “Oh, we have a connection, alright, but my connection with tasty salads might just outdo it this time.”

He pouted. “Fine, have it your way. But if that’s how it’s gonna be, I’m ordering the biggest, heartiest dish on the menu just to torture you.”

You grinned. “Challenge dutifully accepted. I’ll enjoy my dish while you tackle your food mountain. We’ll see who’s satisfied in the end.”

Hwa leaned in, whispering. “Well, just so you know, if you end up trying a bite of mine, you might never go back to salads again.”

You smirked at him. “We’ll see about that. You can’t deprive me of my greens forever, you know.” You pretended to think hard for a moment. “I know, I’ll revolt! I’ll revolt and you won’t know what’s coming to —”

He pressed his lips against yours in a sudden, actually sweet kiss. When he finally pulled back, he was grinning slyly from ear to ear.

“You were saying?” he teased.

You snorted. “Well, I was going to say that no matter how tempting your ‘food mountain’ may be, my love for salads will endure. Just like my love for you, even if you try to sabotage it with impeccably irresistible dishes.”

He tried and failed to suppress another laugh. “You talk too much.” You grinned in satisfaction.

“Maybe I do, but you love it.”

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kisakis-boyfriend · 7 months

Note

Aah whoops! My bad, Genshin Impact was the series I had in mind for the Halloween costumes. But if there’s another series you’d prefer or already have ideas for I’d be happy to read that instead :)

No no, Genshin is perfectly fine! I'll do 2 characters for each category, thanks to tag limitations... This will also be in a modern AU, if that's all right ^-^

Most complicated costumes

Scaramouche/Wanderer for sure. Most people would expect him to not even bother with something so childish, as he would probably put it. But if you tease him a bit he'd cave and design something that ends up putting every other costume to shame. He's like a peacock fanning out it's gorgeous feathers and drawing the attention of everyone around. And you had better keep your eyes on him, and only him for the rest of the night

KAVEH. My god this man is going to go all out even if he must pull multiple all-nighters to finish his design. And YES, he WILL be designing his own costume. He's also probably going to cry if people don't like it...please keep him away from the alcohol if this is the case and compliment the hell out of him. Validate this poor soul's hard work and effort, he deserves it

Laziest Costumes

Alhaitham 100%. If you think for even a second that Alhaitham is going to dress up for some holiday, you'd be very mistaken. Even if you beg him to (or force him in some way) he's going to pick the cheapest, most low effort option available. He might literally pull the sheets off of your bed and dress as a ghost...

Layla, but not by choice. She really wanted to wear something cute it's just...she kept forgetting about it and she never had the energy to pull something together... Ends up borrowing an unused pair of cat ears and drawing on whiskers with eyeliner right before showing up at a party 😿

Sluttiest Costumes

Heizou. Though if he was supposed to attend a party, he might cover up a bit until you have some alone time~ After all, his body is a special privilege for your hands only and showing himself off in front of tons of people might invite some unwanted attention. He'd probably go for something that shows off his midriff and thighs, maybe some fishnets too?

KAEYA. He's the type to wear a sexy nurse outfit or something, mainly just to tease you...with pretty thigh highs and garters accentuating his legs, his chest or maybe his back exposed. Kaeya just eats up the expressions you make when you finally see what he's wearing, flirting with you the whole night by using awful pick-up lines and puns based on the costume he chose

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

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f9clementine · 12 days

Text

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enchanted to meet you ⋙ 24. the amulet pt. 3

⋙ written part included 『••✎••』

Minho’s heart lurches, watching you dangle in San’s grasp, little cat eyes dazed and confused. He knew better than anyone that you were probably very lost, mind racing to catch up to the sudden shift to being a cat. His own transformation had been a blur, kicking his fight or flight instincts into high gear as he had booked it out the front door, leaving a shocked Innie behind.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” San declared, holding kitty you a little higher as he forced Minho’s attention back to him. “You’re gonna go get me the amulet and no tricks this time. Or else Y/n’s gonna stay a cat for a long, long time. Do you understand?”

Minho gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm. “Just give it up at this point, Choi. You don’t have the upperhand anymore. Let her go and you can just walk away.”

“You’re wrong, Lee. I can’t just walk away,” San sneered, giving you a tiny little shake as he continued to hold you aloft. “Not without that amulet. So, I suggest-”

It seemed the sudden jolt San gave you snapped you out of your daze. With a sudden yowl, you swiped up, dragging your claws alongside the hand holding you up, drawing blood. San let out a hiss of pain, dropping you. Minho darted forward to try and grab you, but the second your paws hit the linoleum, you were gone, a little furry bullet out the door.

Minho let out a curse, about to follow you out the door but first, he turned to San, who was cradling his bleeding hand and looked about to follow as well.

Not gonna happen.

Without a second thought, Minho raised his fist, striking San directly in the face. He winced as his knuckles began to throb from the impact, but watching the taller man crumple to the floor without a sound was satisfying enough to make it worth it. When San didn’t move, Minho realized he hit him hard enough to knock him out.

Even better.

“That's for kidnapping my girlfriend and turning her into a cat.” Min spat, even though he knew there was zero chance of getting a response, before turning on his heel and running out the door.

He watched as you ran down the hallway before pursuing after you.

Minho ignored his phone's rapid beeping, focused on following you as you fled for your furry life. “Y/n, c’mon!” He called, watching you ignore him before adding ‘psspsspss’ sounds, which you also ignored.

“I’m getting so sick of running through this school, Y/n,” He mumbled, turning the corner after you into a hallway ending in a door to the outside.

You slid to a stop in front of it, your tail extremely fluffed up as you paced back and forth, kitty mind trying to figure out where to go.

Minho slowly approached you, holding his hand out as he kneeled down to your level. “Y/n… c’mon jagi, come here and we’ll get this fixed okay?” He spoke to you quietly, watching your ears twitch back and forth as he did. “You make such a pretty kitty but I’m sure you want to be human again, right?”

You took a tentative step forward, slinking low to the ground before taking another step.

Minho let out a relieved sigh and fought the desire to lurch forward to grab you, knowing you’d be calmer if he let you come to him. “That’s it, that’s my girl. We’ll get you right as rain again, okay?”

You were finally within reach, little nose sniffing along Minho’s fingertips, taking another small step closer before your fur was suddenly standing on end, hissing at something over Minho’s head.

Before Min could react, he watched a hand suddenly reach into view, lifting you by the scruff again.

“Woah, Y/n’s a cat now? What did I miss?” Wooyoung asked, glancing from you to where Minho rose to his feet.

“Give her back. God, I’m so sick of you guys kidnapping her, I swear to god.” Minho complained, reaching out to take you back but Wooyoung stepped back, pressing you to his chest as he looked around, frowning. You let out an annoyed sound, wriggling in his grip to no avail.

“Where’s San then?”

“Somewhere knocked the fuck out. Hopefully with some brain damage.” Minho took another step forward, trying to keep his hands steady as he reached out to tug you back into his arms. “He probably needs help. So give me Y/n and I’ll tell you where I left your boyfriend.”

Wooyoung hesitated, glancing between you, who was still struggling in his arms, and Minho, weighing his options. “Okay, fine,” He said after a beat, holding you out to Minho. “Tell me where-”

Both men jumped as the door behind them suddenly burst open, a tall man in a dark coat striding in.

Wooyoung gulped audibly, quickly pushing you into Minho’s arms before backing up further. “Seonghwa hyung, h-hey…”

Minho glanced between Wooyoung and Seonghwa, deciding to keep his mouth shut and instead move out the way as Seonghwa kept advancing on Wooyoung, a furious look on his face.

“Wooyoung, I am going to kill you.” Seonghwa growled, reaching out and grasping the younger man by his shirt, pulling him in close. “I am going to kill you and San both for all the shit I’ve been hearing. And then Hongjoong is going to kill you after I’m done.”

Wooyoung let out a nervous chuckle, holding his hands up in defense. “Hyung, it’s not that bad. A-and you know why we’re doing this-”

“You were told,” Seonghwa cut in, “to wait. We were working on a solution that wouldn’t involve grand theft and fucking kidnapping.” He looked up from Wooyoung, glancing at Minho before looking around. “Where is the poor girl that you’ve dragged into this?”

“Uhm, she’s here.” Minho answered, raising his arms where you sat content, seemingly enjoying watching Wooyoung get chewed out by his hyung.

“...That’s a cat.” Seonghwa deadpanned.

“Ah, yeah, it’s a long story but San turned her into-”

Seonghwa let out a loud curse, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Wonderful. And here I thought this couldn’t get any worse. Where’s San?”

“I-I was about to go get him,” Wooyoung explained, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder. “He’s apparently knocked out in a room somewhere. Minho was about to tell me where.”

“We’re going to get him and we’re going to go back. You’re going to leave the amulet behind. I don’t care.” Seonghwa gnashed, cutting off Wooyoung who looked like he was about to complain. “We’re leaving before-”

“Before the Enforcers get here?” Everyone turned their heads to see Hyunjin and Felix standing in the hallway, Hyunjin with a rather smug look on his face. “They’re already here, so…”

“San’s on his own. Let’s go.” Seonghwa grabbed Wooyoung by the back of his shirt this time, pulling him close.

“No, but-” Wooyoung sputtered, upset as he let the older man pull him. “I can’t leave him!”

“You can and we are. You and San knew what the risks were and you did it anyway. Maybe they’ll go easy on him but you and I are leaving.” Seonghwa glanced at Minho, letting out a little sigh. “I’m sorry for how the idiotic members of my coven have behaved. I hope you can get it all fixed.”

Seonghwa mumbled a few words as Wooyoung hung his head, dejected. A ball of light quickly rose from the ground, swirling around them and before Minho could blink, they were gone.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Hyunjin called out as he closed the distance between them, Felix trailing behind him.

“Yeah, we’re okay… mostly.” Minho sighed, readjusting you in his arms. “But Choi San is the world’s biggest asshole.”

“You’re kidding me!” Felix exclaimed, eyebrows raised high. “This day has been extremely fucked up.”

“I’ll say.” Minho shrugged, glancing between the two. “You still have the amulet, right? Let’s change her back quickly.”

Hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “About that… I don’t have the amulet.”

“What? Where is it? Who has it then?” Minho demanded.

“We gave it back to the Blackpink Coven.” Minho looked up to see Chan heading down the hallway, Jeongin leaning on him as exhaustion was evident on both their faces.

“I…” Minho trailed off, lost for words as he looked at you in his arms. “Then how do we reverse this? Go back to square one with trying to figure out what spell it was?”

“C’mon, let’s meet up with the others.” Chan said instead, nodding his head towards the doors. He and Jeongin passed by Minho and after looking over his shoulder, Jeongin leaned in towards Min.

“Channie hyung has a plan. Just play along.” He whispered, taking a second to pat you on the head before heading through the doors.

Minho frowned, watching Hyunjin and Felix follow suit before trailing outside after. He followed them around the school, heading to the parking lot where he could see groups of people standing around.

One group he recognized instantly as the Enforcers, the men standing around dressed all in pitch black, down to their sunglasses. He recognized the man sitting on the ground in between all of them, his arms cuffed behind his back as his face was beginning to swell from where Minho had struck him earlier. “They arrested San quickly.”

Hyunjin glanced over his shoulder at him, nodding. “It was crazy; they all ran in and there was so much yelling. Especially when they found San in that classroom.” he winced, remembering it. “It was… a lot.”

Minho nodded, pulling his attention away from the Enforcers and San, instead heading towards he could see Changbin and Jisung talking to a woman with long dark hair. “Who’s-” He started to ask but was interrupted by Chan.

“I can’t believe that someone would curse Y/n!” He declared loudly, everyone in the parking lot turning them as they approached. “That’s awful!”

“WHAT?” Changbin yelled, abandoning his conversation to run over, “What did he do to Y/n?!”

You mewed pitifully in Minho’s arms, tail waving sadly.

“She can’t go to school if she’s a cat! What the hell?!” Changbin lamented, turning to glare at San where he sat, returning the stare until one of the Enforcers lifted him up by his arm, escorting him away.

“We’re unfortunately going to have to wait until the Enforcers can tell us what curse he used before we can change her back, too.” Chan sighed heavily, and Minho frowned, wondering why they were putting on such a show until the woman from earlier walked up, followed by Jisung. “Jennie, this is Y/n, the girl who’s roommate stole your amulet.” Chan said and Minho blinked, realizing who she was.

“I can’t believe the nerve of some covens, y’know?” Jennie rolled her eyes, a hand on her hip. “Theft, murder, kidnapping, and a transmutation curse? Like, when is enough, enough?” She bent down a little, looking you in the eye as she spoke. “Poor thing. I can’t imagine how scared she probably is.” She looked up at Minho, “And you’re the boyfriend, right? Chan explained how you found our amulet and instead of returning it, ran off to rescue your girlfriend.”

“I… uh, well…” Minho stuttered, wondering how to respond when she suddenly flashed him a grin.

“Love makes fools of us all, right?” Jennie reached into her pocket, pulling out the amulet. “I’ll do you a favor, so you don’t have to wait for the Enforcers to speak with Choi San. To be honest, I think you’d be waiting a long time for them to get the info for you. That man is severely cursed so that’s going to be their main concern.”

“San’s cursed?” Felix asked, glancing around the circle that had formed.

“Oh, like I’ve never seen. That explains why he’d go to such lengths for the amulet,” Jennie shrugged, “I just can’t say with what exactly. But they’ll figure it out and then work out how exactly to sentence him. That’s out of our hands, though. But in the mean time, ready?” She held up the amulet and Min nodded, stepping forward.

He watched as Jennie whispered something to the amulet, the center of the stone lighting up before engulfing it completely. She lowered it, letting it dangle over your forehead before the light increased, so bright that everyone turned their heads and closed their eyes.

The weight in Minho’s arms suddenly increased and he grunted, surprised as he turned his attention back to you.

You blinked up at him, arms around his neck as you waited for the streaks of lightning to clear from your vision. You were both quiet for a minute before you let out a small smile, “Hi, Min.”

Minho almost fell to his knees in relief, instead clutching you tighter to him. “Hi, jagi.”

“Oh, damn.” Jennie exclaimed and both of you turned your attention back to her. “It cracked!” She held up the stone and you squinted, but you were able to make out a crack racing through the once smooth stone. “Wow, what kind of curse did Choi use to use that much energy? Or maybe it’s been going nonstop for a while?” She mumbled the last part to herself and you watched as the Skz coven exchanged worried glances before Chan let out a little laugh.

“I-I mean, they probably kept trying to break into Y/n’s apartment, so it was probably on a lot. But hey, let’s give Y/n some space. She’s probably crazy exhausted.” He put his hand on Jennie’s shoulder, gently steering her away as he continued to ramble.

“Thank god for Chan hyung’s charisma or else we’d probably would’ve been busted a long time ago.” Hyunjin mumbled and Jeongin nodded in agreement.

“It comes with the old age.” He snickered and Hyunjin joined in, the two drifting behind Chan and Jennie.

Minho turned, leaving what was left of the group, still carrying you, and walked over to the building, sliding down the wall until he sat on the ground, groaning a little. “I need a nap.”

You giggled, sitting up and pulling away from him as you started to shuffle out of his arms, “You definitely earned-” You stopped as you felt his arms tighten around you. “You can let go of me, Min.”

He shook his head, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder. “Nope. Not gonna happen for a long time.”

“Oh yeah? How long is a long time?”

Minho shook his head again, turning to peek at you with one boba eye. “I was thinking forever, to be honest.”

You blinked, feeling your blood rush to your face as your cheeks burned. “I… that’s a long time.” You mumbled.

Minho nodded, reaching for your hand and threading his fingers through yours. “The longest… unless you don’t want that?”

You shook your head almost violently, “No, no, I-I do, I promise.” You gently squeezed his hand, entranced as Minho gave you a huge smile, his ears bright red through his hair.

“Good.” was all he said before leaning in, gently brushing his lips over yours. His lips were warm and soft, even though they were a little chapped from the day’s exertion, but felt so perfect over yours. You expected your heart to maybe stop, but instead you felt relaxed, like this was where you were meant to be.

Soon you both pulled away, noting his lips were a little swollen and his cheeks bright red. You couldn’t help the little giggle you let out, knowing you probably looked exactly the same. Min chuckled, ducking his head into the crook between your head and shoulder. You took your free hand, gently running it through his hair.

You sighed, "I gotta say, I'm exhausted." You muttered, eyes fluttering shut.

"Getting kidnapped and turned into a cat will do that to you." Minho replied and you looked up to catch his gentle smirk.

"In that case, I definitely deserve to sleep in tomorrow."

You watched as Minho grimaced, the tips of his ears turning red. "About that..." He trailed off awkwardly and you sat up, tilting your head to catch his eye. "I kind of destroyed your room looking for the amulet. Your bed is in pieces and I pulled up the floor boards to find the amulet." He finished, shaking his head. "But I'll put it all back together as soon as we get ba-"

"It's fine." You interrupted, settling back against him with another sigh. "I'll just sleep in your bed tonight."

You felt him stiffen, his head turning to look at you. "W-what?"

You shrugged, unable to help smirking a little. "It wouldn't be the first time, after all."

Minho groaned quietly and you could practically feel the heat radiating off him as his blush deepened. "You're going to be the death of me, jagiya."

"So that's a yes then?"

You felt his hand tighten on your waist, before a soft kiss was placed to your forehead. "Whatever you want."

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THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR YOUR PATIENCE! I'm so sorry it's been so long for me to finish this chapter but I'm so excited to finally be able to post. There's just the epilogue which I've had planned since I first came up with this idea so that'll be easy peasy (and won't be another six months before it gets posted)

Tag list: @mal-lunar-28, @kpopsstuffs, @cassidymb121, @brooklynie, @owotalks, @honey-pop, @hanniemylovelyquokka, @chlodavids, @abbiestearsricochet, @maexc, @seungmyynie, @brinnalaine, @kalopsian-thoughts, @jiisungllvr, @asherthehimbo, @pinxeajin, @vampcharxter, @jluvselandabs, @bettybeako, @borahae-reads, @raehawthorne, @yongbbokkie, @skzhoes, @lauraliisa, @meloncremesoda, @cutiespaghetti, @beaann, @thesassy-mia, @sclassstay, @twobluegoldfish, @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad, @hyuneyeon, @hyunniethepooh, @thecararcticmonkeys, @sunnibearr, @miserablywasted, @feybin, @inniescandy-01, @autumn-lv, @mushrooms-moon, @mae-is-cute98, @bada-lee-ily, @amelee23, @caravm, @sunshinessky, @skz-streamer, @realrintaro, @urmomma0324, @redstayrosie,

also I couldn't tag a lot of names on my list 😓 if you were on the tag list and changed your url, please let me know so I can update it!

#stray kids #stray kids smau #stray kids fake texts #skz smau #lee minho #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x reader #lee know #enchanted to meet you smau

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morewittepain · 24 days

Text

Toxic! Lute x fem! reader

Warnings: Semi-toxic relationship (Lute is bad at emotions), slight NSFW if you squint, LONG drabble

A/N: This one's not a request, just ramblings from my brain. I love toxic yuri and I love love love the song Casual by Chappell Roan so ofc I combined them. 💞

Being in a relationship with Lute would not be all sunshine and rainbows. Generally, Lute is a pretty blunt person and she doesn't have a good hold on her emotions, so if she managed to become interested in a person she would not be very good at dealing with that.

Once you became an Exorcist, she hadn't even realized she was staring until Adam started to point it out. She'd watch you train, watch you kill, and she'd be blushing bright gold the whole time — even worse when she got teased for it. And she would deny, deny, deny until it was too much to bear.

This would go on for months until she subconsciously starts to use her power to her advantage, barking out orders just to watch you carry them out in training, and projecting a bit too harshly when you mess up. She pushes you to do far too many push ups than humanly (angelically?) possible. She uses you as an example to all of the lower level Exorcists and berates you for making her look like a joke when you slip up or fumble with your sword skills. She spars a little too rough, knocking you on your ass over and over. She doesn't know how to cope with feeling things, so obviously the next best option is to bully you until it goes away! (Spoiler alert: it doesn't.)

And god is she PISSED about it. She's supposed to be a leader, untouchable, not some hopeless romantic too fixated on one of her trainees to focus on literally anything else. Though, when she shifts her focus to instead lashing out, she starts to fumble even more with her work.

You point it out one day in sparring, snickering about how she seems to care more about insulting you rather than watching her footing, and boy is she absolutely fuming. She literally drops everything and leaves the training center altogether.

You're not as stupid as she seems to think. You notice almost immediately how much she stares at you, and how much harder she seems to be on you than everyone else, and it's almost... cute? The way Adam taunts her every time she gives you an order, the way her wings flap aggressively, and the blush that spreads across her cheeks. So you purposely play into it. You fall when she jabs her sword into your practice armor and you make an effort to show off the arm muscles she can never seem to stop gawking over while you work. At the end of training, you pull off your shirt on occasion, ringing the dampness out all while in nothing but shorts and a sports bra, flapping your own wings only to draw more attention. While a bit more brutal than most budding relationships, it's all a game of cat and mouse. And damn if you're not winning.

It gets to be too much. You're sparring well after your designated training hours, both soaked with sweat and wearing furious expressions as you dodge the other's attacks, when you finally swipe her feet out from under her and knock her down completely. "You know," you say teasingly, "the way you're looking up at me makes me wonder if you're plotting my murder... or you're just horrible at flirting." But before you can get another word out, she's kicking her boot hard against your calf and pulling you down on top of her.

Like... literally on top of her.

She grabs you by the neck with a look of pure fury, and to your surprise she's absolutely attacking your mouth with the same aura of rage. Your lips move against each other aggressively, and she manages to flip you over and pin you to the padded floor mat with one hand gripping your shirt. She doesn't seem to quite know what she's doing, but she manages to bite your lip until you think you can taste blood — and she tastes it too. And it's the biggest rush she's ever had.

When you pull away, you grin, licking your lips. "What's wrong, lieutenant? Was it my form or my stance?"

Lute is panting hard, but she manages to spit out, "Your footing is weak," as she stands back up to grab her things. Because while she usually would choose fight, when it comes to romance her first instinct is to fly.

It goes like this for a while. You look forward to practicing one on one all day, beat the ever loving shit out of each other, and then fall into an even more aggressive make out session.

Then it blossoms into ducking into supply closets after particularly long days so she can pin you against the wall and take out all her frustrations.

It's always, always in secret though. You try to grab her hand in front of someone and she immediately drops it. You touch her shoulder and she shoves you off. You come within two feet of her and she's using her wings to nudge you to the side. Now that she's got you in private, she starts to pretend like you don't even exist in public.

When that yearly Extermination Day rolls around, she breaks off from the team of Exorcists and you quickly follow after, swishing your sword protectively.

"Leave me alone."

"I'm just doing my job."

"Yeah, well you're doing your job too fucking close to me."

"You didn't seem to mind me being close when—"

She backs you up against the side of a tall building, shrouded in the darkness of the alleyway. She uses the tip of her spear to hold you there, pointed precisely at the base of your throat, although not actually touching your skin in any way.

"I don't know what you seem to think we have going on, but let me spell it out for you," she hisses. "There is no 'this.' This is nothing, got it? We are nothing."

You swallow hard, but all you can do is nod and let her walk off, leaving you alone in the darkness. You don't kill many demons that night, but when you return to heaven to report back to Adam, you lie about your success. The praise is nice for supposedly killing a hundred demons when in reality the number was probably somewhere in the twenties, but it's quickly overshadowed when you notice Lute purposely avoiding your eyes.

Still, the next day she's pulling you back into the supply closet. She's attacking your lips while you dissociate with blank eyes, just barely kissing back, and she even manages to slide a hand beneath the waistband of your shorts.

It's not like you want the encounters to stop, because despite the realization that you're nothing more than a cheap way to blow off steam, it does feel good to feel desired in some way... it's just that... maybe things would be easier if this never started in the first place.

You never go to her place, but she shows up at your door on occasion. You let her push her way through, into your room, and you fall back onto the bed without a complaint. You let her kneel down in front of you. She doesn't ever strip for you, and she never lets you get her off, but she goes at you with little mercy like the whole thing is just another power trip to boost her ego.

It's not until you finally put a stop to it that she starts to even realize that she's hurting you in any way. She asks you to stay behind to spar one afternoon and you turn her down, telling her you're too tired and sore. She tries to drag you away from a meeting into an empty room and you shrug her off. She knocks on your door and you just turn your music up to drown out the noise.

Lute has a hard time with emotions like we've already established. She can't understand others' and she can't even pinpoint her own. She's been so shut down, so focused on being a soldier for so long that she can't recognize any feeling other than anger, fury, and... whatever she feels when she looks at you. As for what's going on in your head, she'd always assumed you were on the same page. That this was some sort of unspoken agreement that what the two of you had was just a casual... fling? She didn't know the word for it — someone you find so uncomfortably attractive, but can only bring yourself to kiss to quell the equally powerful feeling of pent up frustration.

But now you're the one shutting her out. At first she's furious. She starts leaving you out of training regiments and meetings to get back. She lets you fend for yourself. But there's just something about that look on your face... it's almost numb. The light has drained from your eyes. You look like a walking corpse. And she's slowly starting to realize that it's all her fault.

She's not really sure how to cope with that fact. She doesn't like getting personal or opening up. She shivers at the thought of a sappy conversation. And apologizing just feels so, so weak. So she asks Adam on a whim one day, keeping it as vague as possible.

They're alone, silently sitting across from each other while Adam speeds through his lunch and she simply stares at her own with no appetite. She looks up, finally mustering up the courage, and asks, "Sir... hypothetically, what would you... I don't know... Fuck." She bites her lip to keep from kicking herself. "What would you do if you hurt someone and you felt bad about it."

Surprisingly, Adam laughs so hard he nearly spits his drink all over himself. "You feel bad about something? You have a heart? Am I talking to a clone or something?" But when she doesn't answer, he just shrugs. "I don't know, get her flowers or something. Chicks love that shit."

Lute feels her lungs deflate right then and there. "How do you know it's a girl?"

"Lute, come on. You have an undercut. It's not rocket science."

And maybe she should be offended, but she doesn't really have any other option than to take his advice. So she stops by a florist and picks out a random bouquet (maybe she should pick something sappy, like flowers that remind her of your eyes, but she's still terrible at this) and knocks on your door once again. There's the tell take sign that you're ignoring her, the muffled music's volume increasing enough to make anyone go deaf, but after about five minutes of banging on the door you finally give up and open it.

You're both completely blank-faced, but she's nervously scratching the back of her neck as you start to close the door again. "Wait!" she calls, sounding pathetic to her own ears.

Your scowl only deepens in the doorway. "Look, Lute. If you think a few flowers are going to make me forget about everything just so you can get in my pants again, you're—"

"I'm sorry," she blurts out sheepishly. She wants to gag at the words and subconsciously steps on her own toes to quell the overthinking. When you don't say anything, she says again, "I'm sorry. I'm, uh... not good at feelings."

"I'll say." The door creaks just a few more inches, but she stops it from shutting completely with her hand.

"Don't make me say it again," she mumbles. "I just... I'm..." She draws in a long, deep breath. "I've never done this before — liked someone — and I don't like emotions, so I guess I hurt you on purpose, and I'm... sorry."

With an eye roll, you take the roses. "You're shitty at apologies too," you say, but then you catch a glimpse of her bashful expression and something feels almost genuine. You sigh. "Just don't drop my hand next time and we'll call it even."

Lute keeps that promise. Despite the nerves that rattle inside of her, the overwhelming feeling that everyone is watching, that she's giving into something she shouldn't, she doesn't just grab your hand the next day. She wraps a wing about you, squeezes your hand gently, and kisses you on the cheek with a dark blush spread across her face as she walks you out of the training room, out onto the busy streets.

"Maybe your swordwork isn't all that bad."

"Oh, shut up," you hiss, but there's a small smile creeping onto your lips.

#adam the lesbian ally #hazbin hotel lute #lute x reader #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin #hazbin hotel fanfiction #x reader #lute smut #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x you #y/n #vivziepop

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zaynmirrors · 2 months

Text

A/N: hey y’all! I really want to incorporate more of their back story, but if y’all are interested I can always do a prequel! Taglist is open! Do y’all want chapter songs?

JUST US

Chapter 3: I remember everything

When Daryl returned to camp with his small haul of squirrels and rabbits, he expected to be greeted by his wife. However, she never appeared.

“Y/n!” He shouted, looking through their tent that looked untouched and had been for hours. He walked into the heart of camp and looked around. His wife is nowhere to be seen. Everyone stared at him. He scowled as Shane came over arms out, like he was already ready to diffuse the wild animal.

“Daryl, now listen to me man” Shane started, Daryl knew then something was wrong. His breathing became harsher as the emotions sank in. Fear, anger, anxiety. He felt them all at once.

“She dead?” He asked though he was afraid of the answer. Daryl didn’t really see a point going on without her.

“Her and Merle got separated” Daryl lunged forward, trying to grab ahold of Shane, but ended up in a chokehold by some guy he didn’t know.

His other half was missing. Lost in a world she had no idea how to survive. One he was trying so hard to protect her from. He couldn’t bear the thought of this new world tarnishing his love.

“I’m going to look for them,” he said strained, the arm around his throat making it hard for him to speak. He patted the arm to signal he was no longer a threat. He was carefully released.

Glenn looked at him and spoke, “I’ll go with you”. Daryl nodded, appreciating the extra hands. He was coming back with both of them. The officer, Rick, and Daryl had agreed to tag along too. As well as T-dog.

Daryl readied the box truck, that was brought back from the last excursion. He listened to the hushed argument between Lori whom his wife had become somewhat close, and Rick. It was the argument of a married couple.

He and y/n hardly ever argued, but he’d remembered their first. It was over a dumb cat, he smiled to himself at the memory. She’d brought home this orange poof of a cat from work.

Daryl wanted nothing to do with the small creature and swore up and down he was allergic. Y/n ended up winning their argument. They’d kept the cat and named him Norman. He loved that cat, though he’d probably never really admit that. Not to y/n anyway. Even if he had shed a small tear when Norman got sick.

“You ready?” Daryl spoke to the volunteers, Glenn made his way to the driver's seat, and Rick to the passenger seat. T-dog chooses the latter and sits with Daryl in the back.

The group of men made their way through the department store quietly. Not wanting to draw any unwanted attention.

T-dog led the way up to the roof, the heavy chain and lock he’d placed on the door still intact. He thanked any god listening, the last thing he wanted was to face Dixons’ wrath. Using bolt cutters he clipped the lock. Rick pulled off the chain as Daryl pushed open the door.

He was met with nothing, no sign of either of them. His lip quivered. The handcuffs Rick had told him about on their drive back to the city dangled from the metal pipe, swaying in the breeze. The side that had been cuffed to Merle was open.

“Fuck” Daryl said, voice quivering. Now back to square one, he began looking around the roof for any sign either one of them had left.

T-dog weighed out his dilemma, speaking. “Dixon, I’m sorry” This earned him a look from the tracker, and continued, “I was supposed to get them but there were too many geeks, and I-“

“You mean to tell me, this is your fault?” T-dog nodded. Daryl clenched his jaw, debating on putting a bolt through his scull but was distracted by a flash of red out of the corner of his eye.

He turned fully and saw an x on the back of a door on the other end of the roof. He walked over and gently ran a finger through it. Lipstick. That was his girl.

Daryl ducked into the doorway, the others following behind him. They descended the stairwell and were met with a small arrow in red lipstick signaling to the left.

Every few feet another arrow would indicate which way to go. Until the group came upon two dead walkers. Neither of them looked like Daryl’s wife or brother.

His wife wouldn’t have been able to kill so brutally, this was his brother's doing. Y/n would’ve been precise and less messy. Merle had found humor in positioning the arm and finger of the dead body to point in the direction they needed to continue.

Music played softly around the pair as they swayed. A slow, sad country song but they didn’t care. Nor did they care if they had onlookers.

Daryl rested his forehead against hers as they continued to sway. “I love you” he spoke so quietly she wasn’t sure if she’d heard it at first.

“I love you” she replied, a small smile playing on her lips. Daryl smiled and pulled her impossibly closer, gently dipping her backward. This earned a laugh to erupt from y/ns throat.

“Congratulations” Joe, one of the long-term patrons of the bar said passing by the two. Y/n replied with a thanks and stared at her now husband.

He raised an eyebrow at her, the side of his lip quirking upwards, “What?”. Daryl brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

The memory faded as y/n heard shuffling from outside her hiding place. She had been hidden in the cabinet for what felt like days. It was hot, and she was certainly dehydrated.

She sat still hearing the broken glass crunch under heavy feet. This could be it, her final moments. She prayed to any god listening that it would be quick and painless as the cabinet door swung open. The sun burned her eyes causing her to squint.

A voice etched forever in her mind spoke, “I gotcha” Daryl crouched down to look her over. Tears stung in her eyes as she took in his face. She stumbled out, her legs forgetting how to move from being stuck in a sitting position for days, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

His arms enveloped her, holding her close. Taking in the notes of citrus and sweat. How she could possibly still smell like her shampoo was beyond him. “Where’s Merle?” He asked, still holding onto her, refusing to let her go.

She shook her head, “I don't know, he told me to hide in here” Daryl sighed, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Though he knew his brother was tough as nails and could survive this world more than his wife could.

“Let’s get you back to camp” he spoke, standing, making her stand with him. Scooping her into his arms choosing to carry her rather than let her walk.

Daryl wanted nothing more than to look for his brother but his wife looked worse for wear. He also knew his brother could make his own way back to camp. So, he took his wife home.

Chapter 4

Taglist:

@nameless-ken

#daryl twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #twd #daryl imagines #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl smut #rick grimes

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vampirzina · 3 months

Text

Jam

dialogue w. cottagecore!reader & havik

╰ ❝ clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. ❜❜

tw: gender neutral, no y/n, sfw, mdni, friends to lovers, angst, blood, insecurities, oneshot

notes: idk what this is, n i know this dynamic is a big hit or miss but i just think it’d be kinda cute.., set when havik gets burnt.

masterlist

The rocking chair reclines; you toss the wool over your thick wooden needle.

The rocking chair keels over; you knit it into the rest of the pattern.

Occasionally Pinky, the cat, sniffles or stirs in the pool of the morning sun that frayed out through the sliver of glass in the front door, like a spotlight. She slowly blinks at nothing, groggy. You have to cut her some slack; keeping the freshly clean wooden floor company all morning is tiring for a lone cat.

It’s comfortable, here.

For a moment.

You hear two thumps and an audible sound of discomfort, before the rickety wooden door is burst open—Pinky, ears flattened to her head and tail puffed, bounds away and towards you. You abandon knitting entirely, but you don’t get up… Yet.

“Dairou?”

He slams the door so hard that it opens again, the walls shaking with the force of his fury. Havik holds his face in his hands and if it weren’t apparent by now, looks hurt. A splotch of red escapes his wound to hit the floor; you cast all of your knitting material to the side to get up and help.

You knew of his life outside of your quaint little world, but this is the first time he’s ever come to you like this. Any of his bruises or cuts are brushed off at his request, but should he try this time to keep you away, you won’t listen. Your hands dirty with his blood just trying to pry his hands away, and—

You gasp, hands flying to cup your mouth as you step back. You don’t know how long you stood there, but you have to yank yourself into reality to fix this, and swallow down the squeamishness from the spook at the back of your throat.

It was only a peek, but you saw it—Havik’s face was marred by something, something strong enough to skin away his mouth to his nose and leave nothing but burnt flesh and bone.

You haphazardly search the living space as it gets dirtier and dirtier, and Havik’s sounds of pain have died into a low hiss and growl every then and again, but he watches you through the gaps in his fingers. It must hurt to speak right now. You pick a cloth to sacrifice.

“Gods, um, um,” you don’t know how to give the dampened cloth to him if he’s holding his face, so you tuck it in between his bicep and arm. “Clean yourself up. You’re getting blood all over the place.”

You scoot out the nearest chair at the table for him to sit as you scurry to your bathroom. It’s not much, but there’s an aid kit in there; you’ll make do with what you have in there.

By time you come back, the rag in Havik’s hands is so heavy with blood, that simply moving it from the table he set it on to the sink left a mark. You hiss at the sheer spots left on your table, drawing a thumb over it to smudge it out. Ultimately making it worse makes you sigh.

Havik, however, is silent. Deathly silent.

He can’t look you in the eyes though.

“What happened?” you just wanted to know, but it’s obvious that you’ll go without, as you inspect his wound. “The gods must be tired of me calling their name in vain, but… Gods…”

You both stay in silence, staring, looking everywhere else but each other. It’s you who breaks it, realizing that the wound is not going to heal itself. “Can I?”

Dairou only grunts, his face scrunching—you would have backed off if he didn’t make a snide remark at you. “You’ve been staring all this time, I’m surprised you even ask.”

You mumble an apology, and get to work.

You do the best you can, at least to do away with most of the blood, but the redness won’t go away for a while. You’re surprised he’s even still alive, as you work on helping him. It’s unclear to Havik just how badly you’d be stricken with torment if he’d actually died.

Once you finish, you step back and admire your work with clasped hands. “So? …How do you feel?”

“Terrible,” Dairou responded in annoyance; but the restrained kind of it. He didn’t want to upset you further. Your bandages having been wrapped in a way that’d let him breathe and speak.

“Well,” you started, a bit forlorn at his seemingly indefatigable anguish. “Maybe a little less terrible?”

Dairou took a while to answer that one—he looked at you from the seat. And then, “Whatever.”

You look away when he looks at you, and if he could somehow, he’d frown. It’s unbeknownst to you that he’d been vying for your attention ever since he’d mashed your fresh strawberry garden into jam, something he’s come to both regret and love. But you look so… Unsure of him. Like you’re afraid.

“You…” he comes back to at the sound of your voice intruding his ears and shrouding his thoughts. “Should bathe, or something. There’s a change of clothes you left here. And ‘cause I think you don’t want to talk about it, you can just… I don’t know… Go or… Stay…”

“You’re bloody yourself,” Dairou pointed out, and he wasn’t really wrong—it was his blood, staining your cheek and fingers and turning the air from stale to coppery. It’s a new sight he found he liked, but needed to keep to himself. “And your home… Filthy.”

“From the blood, I know,” you peer down at your fingers, and shamefully you hide them. It looks like jam yet so far from the real thing as it turns a dark brown hue from oxidation. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll clean up.”

Dairou stood. You were right, sort of—he didn’t want to talk about it—not because it’s too soon. It was out of fear of what you’d might think of him now that he’s been scarred like this for the rest of his life. Would you still want to want him around? Do you find him hideous? Can you even look at him? These things don’t just go away with a shower.

But for a moment as he steps out from the spare room in your cottage and smells the sweet scent of warm food in the oven, it wanes. It reminds him of the very reason why he loves you in the first place.

Indiscriminate, is what he’d call you. Loving, even.

“Ah,” you perked from where you were mopping the floor, noticing him at the corner of your eye and watching as he moved to sit in the same place again. “Are you staying?”

“…Where else could I go?”

Oh. And ow.

That hurt. It wasn’t even really meant to be an insult, as the way he said it was in defeat, but it strung your heart strings the same way it would if he’d said something mean. You sigh, “Dairou…”

He loved it when you said his name, but not like this.

“You are the only person who can see me like this and care, not be afraid,” Dairou went on, his tone wrapping itself in grief and confusion. “How?”

“What do you mean, ‘how?’ You’re still my friend, and even if you weren’t, why leave you in pain if you thought to come to me to fix it?” you’d stop sweeping now, the inner corners of your brows curved upwards in offense. “You got hurt. Why do you expect me to abandon you?”

Because he felt like he was now undeserving to be in proximity to a beauteous person—and yet it doesn’t come out—you feel it. You were smarter than that and this conversation is taking a turn for the worse because of the tension bubbling up.

The wooden mop in your hand gets rested against the nearest wall with a hefty ‘thud’, and you come to stand before him, closer than the last time you assumed the position. To Dairou’s surprise, you scoot up a chair to sit adjacent to him.

You reach over to take his hand in yours for him to look at you, rubbing there. “Dairou, whatever happened, I’m sorry though it’s not my fault. But… That doesn’t mean I’m going to be afraid of you. It’ll take some time to get used to, but I’d never hate you. In fact, it’s always been the opposite.”

Dairou freezes. He stares.

Had you… Crossed a line now? It gets uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, very quickly. You begin to regret even saying anything like this, but it was out of paranoia of losing him to some silly argument that you said it. The corner of your lips downturn, and with a breathy apology and averted gaze you begin to pull away—but his grip on your hand keeps you.

“Maybe I read the room wrong, and–and maybe you don’t really feel like that back or this is a bad time to have said something like that–bemarriedtoyourworkforallIcarebut–that’s just what I feel, and even if you let me down now it won’t take that feeling away from me,” you ramble, still unable to look at Dairou as the rare look of adoration glazed over him. “…I think.”

You feel small.

His chest could burst, right about now. But he felt if it did literally, he’d truly succeed in spooking you for good this time. Dairou intertwines your fingers first, before lifting yours to his mouth. For a moment he forgets he can’t kiss without lips; so he settled for just having your skin against where they used to be. Dairou would find a way to kiss you even if he were headless. He inhales your scent and shuts his eyes.

This is the most tender you’d get from someone so tormented like Havik.

“If only you knew how bewitching you truly are,” he breathes against your skin, “Foolish thoughts of doubt trump something I thought so obvious.”

“And that’s?” your voice is hoarse and like sandpaper when you swallow.

“Want. My want for you,” Dairou’s moved your hands away from his mouth to caress his cheek. “It’s selfish, borderline primal, but I won’t hold it back. How could you be so stupid?”

What a backhanded confession—but it’s a semblance of reciprocity from Dairou nonetheless. You let out a sheepish laugh, your stick-straight posture slumping in relief, and he lets out a low rumble when you embrace the touch he coaxed with the back of your hand. It’s a savory moment, but it doesn’t last long when you realize where you were. Dairou’s face twists when you suddenly pull away.

“I made food, and,” you cast a glance over your shoulder. “Now that the air is clear between us, I have something to give you.”

He doesn’t get to ask what, you’ve already disappeared into the lounge room. Dairou doesn’t wait for long, though, and you come back with a sweater in your hand. Giddy, you narrate, “It’s for you.”

It’s the sweater you were knitting before he barged in here with his wounds. He’d seen you working on it a few times, but it was for him all this time?

The harbinger of chaos is like a serene sea in your hands.

#mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #havik x reader #havik x you #vampirzina

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theostrophywife · 1 year

Text

the art of punishment.

masterlist

(azriel x reader)

author's note: it's been entirely too long my loves. after weeks of life getting in the way, i finally got the chance to sit down and write and this is what came out. enjoy xx

song inspiration: streets by doja cat.

The dungeon was squeaky fucking clean.

You spent the better half of the day scrubbing the filth and grime from every surface, polishing every weapon until they were gleaming, and washing away the blood, saliva, and gods knew what else had been covering the decrepit holding cells. The task had taken hours and despite your Fae strength, the strenuous cleaning had taken a toll on your body.

You winced as your knees cracked against the concrete floor, wiping and wiping until the entire thing sparkled and gleamed, its surface clear enough to see your reflection.

“You missed a spot.”

Leather boots came into view and muddied your mirrored image. You inclined your head to find the shadowsinger sneering down at you. A sarcastic retort crawled its way up your throat, but you tampered it down. Tampered down the fiery temper that put you in this position in the first place.

A smirk tugged at Azriel’s lips as he watched you bite your tongue. The satisfaction from verbally lashing out at the spymaster would be short lived and Azriel would no doubt jump at the opportunity to draw out your punishment.

Cleaning the dungeon was your penance for matching headfirst into a scuffle with a few raiders who were foolish enough to drift near the Velaris coast. The shadowsinger had commanded you to stand down until he could send reinforcements, but instead of waiting for backup you disobeyed his direct orders and though you’d made the pirates regret stepping into Night Court territory, Azriel had been pissed.

You were well aware of your impulsive and brash tendencies, but even taking your willful disposition into account, the shadowsinger had always been harder on you than the other spies in his employ. If any of your other colleagues pulled the same stunt that you had, you seriously doubted that Azriel would put them on cleaning duty. Suspension and a stern talking to, maybe. But then again, none of your fellow spies had ever stepped out of line as you had. They were too afraid of the spymaster to do so and for good reason.

In the short time you’ve worked with Azriel, you quickly figured out why his very name evoked such fear in Prythian. The shadowsinger was cold, lethal, and downright punishing. You’ve seen grown males piss themselves at the mere sight of the infamous spymaster knowing the world of pain and torture that awaited them in this very dungeon. Some begged for their lives while others prayed for mercy. Azriel granted them neither.

You might be reckless, but you weren’t stupid. As hard as it was, you forced yourself to keep your mouth shut and cleaned the speck of dirt by Azriel’s feet.

“Will that be all?” you asked. You didn’t meet his eyes as you spoke, keeping your voice low and steady to hide the wrath and rage coiling through your veins.

But Azriel didn’t have to see your face to sense your fury. He knew you well enough. Knew which buttons to push, knew which taunts to utter to awaken that fire within you.

The shadowsinger hummed as he surveyed the room, darkness wafting off his tall, statuesque form and curling through those great, mighty wings. If he wasn’t such an asshole, you’d consider the Illyrian warrior beautiful.

That sharp, piercing golden gaze fixed itself on you, taking in your kneeling form, your sullied leathers, and the cracks and cuts on your hands and knees that were already beginning to heal. Azriel paused as he beheld your burning gaze. It was like gazing into a crackling hearth and he wanted nothing more than to feed that growing flame.

So he stayed silent. Waited until your fury lashed out at him like a delicious wave of heat.

“Well?” you gritted out, clenching the rag in your hand so tightly that your knuckles were bone white. “Are you just going to stare at me the whole night?”

And there it was. A glimpse of the feisty female that he enjoyed rousing so much.

“Perhaps I’m just admiring the sight of you on your knees before me.”

You scoffed. “Get a good look, shadowsinger. I’m sure the memory will come in handy when it’s just you and your hand at night.”

Despite all your bravado, the dark, low chuckle that left the shadowsinger’s lips sent goosebumps skittering through your skin. The seductive timbre of his laughter held nothing but promise. A promise to make you regret the words you’d just uttered.

“I see that your punishment has not made you any wiser,” Azriel remarked, zeroing in on you like a predator sizing up its prey. “Shall I add the House of Wind to your cleaning duties?”

You rolled your shoulders and tilted your chin up in defiance. Perhaps it was unwise to provoke the spymaster, but you’ve had enough. If he had a fucking problem with you, then he could come right out and say it.

“Do it, if you must.” You stood to your full height and though you barely reached Azriel’s shoulders, you didn’t balk from his intimidating stare. “But no amount of punishment will make me regret my actions. I did what I thought was right.”

“That’s precisely the problem, isn’t it?” Azriel snapped as that cold, icy rage he kept hidden clawed its way to the surface. “You jump into things headfirst, consequences be damned without a single care for your own safety.”

“Please,” you sputtered out. “Don’t pretend you give a shit about my well-being. This is clearly some fucked up power trip because for some godsdamned reason, you seem to have a problem with me. If Arin or Zoya pulled the same stunt, you’d give them a slap on the fucking wrist.”

Azriel crossed his arms. “It’s not the same.”

For some reason, that sets you off more than anything else. You had no idea what you’d done to deserve this treatment. You worked just as hard if not more than any of your fellow spies. You trained relentlessly. You executed missions flawlessly. You lied and spied and schemed so well that even the High Lord had given you recognition.

But still, none of your accomplishments seemed to please the shadowsinger. You didn’t know what was more infuriating—the fact that Azriel neglected to notice how much you busted your ass off for the Night Court or the fact that you wanted him to notice in the first place.

As stupid as it was, you marched directly into Azriel’s path and stood your ground.

You looked up at him with fire burning in your gaze. “It’s not fucking fair.”

Something dangerous flashed across Azriel’s eyes, disturbing the mask of indifference he’d perfected over the years. “What’s not fucking fair is how terrified I was when you charged into danger without waiting for anyone else.”

“Don’t fucking patronize me!” you shouted, poking at the plate of his impenetrable armor. “You know damn well that I can handle myself, shadowsinger.”

“But I can’t!” Azriel gritted. His booming voice echoed through the cell, bouncing off the walls and rattling your bones. You’ve never seen him quite like this. “I can’t fucking handle myself. You’re right. If anyone else had done what you did, I probably wouldn’t feel this fucking furious, but it’s different with you. It’s different because it’s you.”

You had enough sense to back away from the shadowsinger. To give him space and let that icy rage thaw, but it was much too late for that. Azriel stalked towards you, the golden flecks in his eyes flickering in stark contrast against the familiar greens and browns.

The lit torches lining the walls cast a furious slash of scarlet and gold across his handsome face. “Do you even know why I push you harder than everyone else? Why I train with you until your palms are bruised and your knees are skinned? Why I won’t be satisfied until I’ve drilled it into that stubborn head of yours that your life is not something to play around with?”

With your back pressed against the wall, you gasped as the cool concrete brushed over your skin. It did nothing to suppress the heat unfurling through your body, which only burned hotter under Azriel’s gaze.

“Because for some godsdamned reason, you hate me.”

Azriel’s laugh was dark and cruel, void of any emotion. “If only it were that easy.”

The spymaster was a blur of darkness, moving so quickly that you didn’t even register what he was doing until he had you caged between his arms.

“Do you know how terrified I was when I found out that you disobeyed my order and went up against those raiders all by yourself? I’ve never flown so fast in my godsdamned life. And here you are, accusing me of hating you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Then allow me to make it crystal fucking clear for you,” Azriel snapped.

An argument sat on the tip of your tongue, but it never made its way out. The shadowsinger dipped his face lower, his lips grazing yours as he let out a shaky breath. Any resolve he might’ve had evaporated as soon as your gaze dipped to his mouth. And then you actually whimpered and the sound alone snapped the last thread of Azriel’s self control. In one swift move, he unleashed all of the pure, unadulterated desire that he’d spent so long fighting against.

Azriel surged forward and kissed you. You could taste the tension and desire on his lips as they moved seamlessly against yours while you twined your arms around his neck. He growled into your mouth and you tugged at his locks, pulling him down as his hands roamed your back.

The kiss was its own battle. It was a continuation of your bickering, but instead of words the weapons were your lips and tongues and hands. The shadowsinger was rough and unrelenting. Kissing him felt similar to sparring. Neither one of you refused to yield as tongues danced and teeth clashed.

You hated to admit it, but Azriel was a good fucking kisser.

You couldn’t tamper down your moan as his lips grazed your neck, leaving marks in his wake as he sucked and nipped at your flesh.

“Wait,” you breathed, pulling away from Azriel. “So you don’t hate me. This whole time…you were worried about me?”

The shadowsinger chuckled softly. “The best spy in Prythian and it took you that long to figure it out?” He grazed your jaw with his teeth. “You’re losing your touch, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll be lucky to even feel anything after you made me clean this disgusting dungeon.”

Azriel squeezed your waist, pressing his midsection against you. “Serves you right for nearly giving me a heart attack and for being such a stubborn, unapologetic brat after the fact.” You rolled your eyes and the shadowsinger lightly pinched your hip in response. “It's clear that my punishment wasn’t severe enough. You don’t appear to have learned your lesson.”

You tugged at his locks roughly and nipped at the sensitive spot below his jaw. “To be honest, I’m a little disappointed. I expected more from you, spymaster.”

The dark chuckle that slipped past Azriel’s lips was gruff and husky, caressing you with lethal promise. “Oh, you’ll regret that sweetheart.” His cool breath fanned through your overheated skin as he whispered in your ear. “I’ll have you begging for mercy by the end of the night.”

You thought that the shiver that snaked down your spine was of your own volition, but as the cold whisps of Azriel’s shadows curled through your wrists and ankles, you realized with a start that your words had struck their mark and hit a nerve. The shadowsinger sized you up like a predator stalking its prey. By the gods, you were really fucking in for it.

Good.

That’s exactly what you wanted.

Years of stealth training couldn’t prepare you for how fast Azriel moved. He was barely a dark blur in your periphery as his shadows swallowed him up only to reappear behind you. Azriel grabbed your wrist and transported you to the far end of the cell. From the brick wall hung metal cuffs usually reserved for the traitors and enemies unlucky enough to find themselves down here, but tonight you were the one being tied up and chained in this dungeon.

You released a shaky breath as the cold metal pressed an icy kiss upon your skin. In tandem with Azriel’s shadows, you were fully secured against the wall.

The shadowsinger cocked his head to the side, admiring his handiwork. “Is this more of what you had in mind, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Close, but not quite. It’s a good start though.”

Azriel hummed as he traced the outline of your cheek, dragging his rough, calloused fingers along your jaw and by the corner of your mouth.

“You have such a smart mouth,” he observed, brushing the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip. Azriel eased your mouth open as your lips formed a pink, pout ‘o.’ “I can’t wait to shut you up.”

Your breathing hitched and the shadowsinger took note of the change, a sadistic smirk blooming on that exquisite face.

“You like that, don’t you?” He tilted your chin up and you held it out in defiance even as his golden gaze bore into you. “I’m not fooled by this angelic face for one second. You may play it sweet for everyone else, but I know deep down the dark fantasies that play over and over again in your head. I know, because I think about them too.”

Arousal pooled in your core and soaked through your panties. Had it not been for the shadows spreading your ankles apart, you would have rubbed your thighs together for any sort of friction.

“Tell me what you think about,” you breathed. “I want to know.”

Azriel caressed your cheek, chuckling under his breath when you instinctively lean into his touch. “I think about you,” he says, lips ghosting over the shell of your pointed ear. “Just like this. Chained to the wall. Restrained by my shadows. Completely and utterly at my mercy.”

The shadowsinger caressed your cheek, softly kissing a path down the column of your throat while his hands trailed down your torso. Your eyes fluttered close as shallow breaths echoed through the walls. Azriel unbuckled the leather straps at the front of your armor, tossing it to the side and leaving you in nothing but a lacy black bra.

He nipped and sucked at the valley of your breasts, etching his claim on you as though his lips were a paintbrush and your skin the canvas. Azriel unbuttoned your pants next and they fell to the floor, exposing the matching black panties that were already soaked all the way through at this point.

Rough, calloused fingers danced over your breasts and hips and waist and thighs, exploring every inch with careful scrutiny.

“Such a pretty sight,” Azriel declared with awe and reverence. “It’s a shame that I have to punish you for being such a brat.”

He gripped the inside of your thigh and you bucked against his hand, desperate for any friction you could get.

The shadowsinger gripped your hips in place and gave you a stern look. “Do that again and I’ll leave you hanging in this cell until morning.” He tilted your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes which were nearly black with lust. “I decide when and how to touch you. Do you understand, sweetheart?”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. You were so turned out that you couldn’t even form words.

Azriel gripped your hips, leaving bruises in his wake. “I asked you a question,” he said sternly.

“Yes, sir.”

“Not so tough now, are you?” Azriel stated with a smirk, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra.

He released your breasts, kissing over your chest until his hot breath fanned over your stiffened peaks. Azriel looked up at you through thick, dark lashes and smirked before wrapping his lips against your nipple. He sucked harshly, flicking his tongue over your hard nub while you keened.

The sound of your whimpers went straight to his cock. He wanted to fuck you so badly, but Azriel wouldn’t give you the satisfaction. The shadowsinger intended to make you beg for it first.

He continued his assault on your breasts, his teeth grazing against the soft flesh and leaving marks all along your chest. Azriel licked a path down to your navel and then he kneeled before you, his face inches away from your soaked care. He toyed with the waistband of your panties, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive area before he wrapped his lips around the fabric and kissed you through the lace.

Azriel lapped you up, his saliva mixing with your slick as he tortured you through the thin barrier. You wanted your panties off so you could feel his mouth, his tongue, his lips on you, but he only held your hips down and laughed as you whimpered above him.

“What’s wrong, love?” He nuzzled against your mound with his nose, tongue flicking along the inside of your thigh and teasing underneath the lace. “Does my pretty girl want me to fuck her with my tongue?”

You nodded almost instantly. Azriel chuckled at your eagerness, a hint of wicked intent flashing through those stunning eyes.

“Beg for it,” he said softly. “Beg me to eat you out. Beg me to make you come on my tongue. Beg me, bunny and make it sound pretty.”

“I’m begging you to put your mouth on me. Fuck me with your tongue. Feast on me until I cum. I need to feel you,” your words were rushed and desperate, conveying the urgency of your need with every clipped syllable. “Please, sir.”

Azriel grinned up at you. “Now that’s more like it, bunny.” He kissed you through the fabric again, but this time, as he wrapped his lips around your mound, he hit down harshly and the sharp sensation on your clit made you cry out in pleasure. “Hold on tight, sweetheart. I’m just getting started.”

The chains snapped into place as you attempted to touch Azriel, momentarily forgetting about the restraints. He chuckled in amusement, “I get to touch you all I want, but you’re only allowed to watch. You’re entirely at my mercy, remember?”

With that, he yanked your panties down and discarded them behind his shoulder. Azriel gave you no warning before his wicked tongue circled around your clit, flicking at the sensitive bundle of nerves while you bucked against his face. The shadowsinger slapped your ass and forcefully gripped your hips in place.

“What did I fucking say? Stay still or I’ll stop.”

You gasped from the impact of the slap, shaking your head. “Please don’t. I’ll be good, I promise.”

Azriel looked up at you through dark lashes. There was nothing but lust and desire burning within his gaze. “You’re so pretty when you grovel, bunny. I might just let you cum because you asked so nicely.”

“Oh yes, please.”

He chuckled before diving back in, licking a stripe along your slick folds. You were wet, so fucking wet that you were practically dripping all over Azriel’s lips. The sounds you were making were absolutely filthy and your moans only grew loader as he fucked you with his tongue, slipping in and out of your tight hole as he made you loose and pliant with his wicked mouth.

You’re shaking as Azriel’s scarred hands clamp down on top of your thighs, guiding your pussy over his mouth and moving your hips to a steady rhythm while he devours you with fervor.

Heat unfurled in your belly and you could feel Azriel pushing you to the precipice of your orgasm. It was close, so close, you could feel the cord of tension stretch taut like the bow of an arrow, ready to notch and loosen, but the feeling deflated when Azriel suddenly pulled away. Your eyes snap open in confusion, desperation written all over your face as you watched the shadowsinger gather your juices from his lips and onto his sticky fingers before sucking up every last drop. He moaned and it echoed through your entire being, the sound traveling straight to your cunt which clenched from the absence of Azriel’s tongue.

“So close,” you stammered. “I was so close.”

Azriel smirked. “Too fucking bad.” He stalked towards you and one of his shadows darted out to lift your chin. “I hope you don’t think that I’d give in that easily. It’s going to take a lot more than pretty words for me to let you cum.” You whined, causing the shadow to grip you even tighter. “Don’t fucking whine. You acted like a brat and now you’re getting punished like one. Deal with it.”

The shadowsinger circled you, sizing you up like a predator does to its prey. “Now spread your legs, bunny. I’m not done playing with that pretty little pussy.”

You swallowed down your pride and obeyed his command. For once in your life, you didn’t blurt out whatever rude remark that was brewing in your mind. You didn’t stand a chance against Azriel. You fully believed that he’d follow through on letting you hang in this cell if you disobeyed him.

So you spread your legs, earning a pleased smile from the shadowsinger. He rewarded you with a kiss, a hot and searing kiss that ripped the breath from your lungs. Azriel pushed his tongue past the seam of your lips as he tilted your head back, prodding inside of your mouth until your teeth clashed from the pressure.

Azriel massaged your breasts, fondling your chest and pushing your tits up as he grinded his hips into yours. You let out a filthy moan and he cursed, pinching your nipple between his fingers.

“I love your hands,” you confessed, whispering the words into his mouth. “They feel even better than I imagined.”

“You’ll like them even more when they’re inside of you, bunny.”

As if on cue, his fingers dipped lower, the middle and pointer digits spreading your arousal over your slit. You fought the urge to buck against his hand as Azriel watched his fingers disappear inside of you. His gaze flickered up to your face just in time to see your lips part.

The shadowsinger smirked before dipping down to suck the sensitive flesh below your ear. As he kissed you, Azriel’s fingers picked up the pace. With two fingers inside of you, his thumb circled your clit and made you shudder into him. Your head fell slack against his broad shoulder, but a whip of shadow titled your chin up.

“Don’t hide your face from me, sweetheart.” His voice was low and rough, its husky tone ensnaring you. “I want to watch you come undone.”

Azriel pinned you with his gaze as he curled his fingers inside of you, drinking in the flush of your cheeks, the hitch in your breath, the sweat glistening against your skin. He could tell that you were close by the way your moans echoed off the dungeon walls. The shadowsinger smirked, slowing his movements just as your orgasm was beginning to build again.

A sob racked through your chest. You were so close. “Please,” you murmured. “Please, Azriel.”

The shadowsinger brushed a tear that had tumbled down your cheek with his thumb. “You’re so pretty when you beg, bunny.” He kissed your temple, the gesture surprisingly sweet and intimate despite the wicked smile on Azriel’s face. “Maybe I should draw out your punishment a little longer so I can savor the sweet sounds of you pleading to let you cum.”

“Please,” you cried out. “I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll be good, I promise.”

A dark chuckle skittered over you. “I doubt that, sweetheart. But since you asked so nicely, I’ll go easy on you this time.”

You nodded in agreement just as Azriel picked up the pace once again. He captured your lips with a searing kiss, the rhythm of his tongue matching the pulse of his fingers. You felt that familiar feeling building in your core and you moaned into Azriel’s mouth as he curled his fingers within your walls.

The orgasm came hard and fast, hitting you with a white, blinding heat as stars swarmed your vision. Azriel held you up as you slumped against him, his fingers sliding out of you covered in your own juices. The shadowsinger lapped up your arousal before tapping your lips. You parted your lips and sucked his fingers obediently.

“Good girl,” he said in a gruff voice.

Shadows released you from the chains and wrapped you in a dark cloak before depositing you directly into Azriel’s arms. He carried your trembling body as though you weighed nothing. Inky tendrils swarmed the both of you and swallowed you whole.

Moments later, you found yourself blinking against the soft glow of faelights. Azriel gently set you down on a mattress—his mattress, you realized as you took in your surroundings. You’ve never seen the inside of Azriel’s room before, but it looked exactly as what you might’ve expected. Sleek and elegant with touches of dark wood and rich velvets that felt like a reflection of Azriel himself.

You watched curiously as Azriel disappeared beyond his bedchamber. The sound of running water filtered behind the door and the shadowsinger was at your side once more, cradling you bridal style as he carried you into the bathing room. He set you down on the marble floor, his gaze filled with a loaded question as he tugged at the cloak draped over your shoulders.

You held his stare as you let the fabric pool to the floor. The shadowsinger drank you in with appreciation and led you into the marble tub. The water was warm against your skin, making you hum in pleasure.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” you asked.

The shadowsinger grinned. “Eventually,” Azriel said, perching on the edge of the tub. He lathered salve onto your shoulders and massaged the tension out of your muscles. “Consider this a lesson in patience. Since you have virtually none.”

“If all of your lessons end in a massage, then you’re easily my new favorite teacher.”

Azriel chuckled. “Was this part of the fantasy too?"

“Kind of,” your eyelids fluttered close as he lathered a lavender scented paste into your scalp. “Though you were wearing less clothing in my imagination."

The shadowsinger gently squeezed the side of your neck and grazed his lips against the column of your throat.

“Patience, sweetheart. I’ve waited all this time to have you and I intend to savor every second of it.”

“I’ve never been good at savoring,” you teased. “I prefer to devour.”

You raked your nails against his bicep and tugged him close, your lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Azriel gripped the back of your head and gently tugged, his hazel eyes flashing dark as he smirked.

“Good thing we have all night,” he murmured against your skin. “And all morning. Maybe the afternoon, too.”

You grinned. “What about training?”

“Fuck training,” he replied cheekily.

“I’d rather fuck you instead.”

The shadowsinger shook his head in amusement before peeling out of his leathers. You gaped at the sight of him, naked and bare and looking as though the old gods themselves sculpted him out of marble.

“We’re savoring, remember?” Azriel taunted as he sank into the warm bath water, his wings flaring behind him. He pulled you into his lap and curled his finger through a strand of your hair.

The shadowsinger kissed you gently, soft and sweet. You leaned into him, sighing. Maybe you could get used to the concept of savoring.

You hadn’t even realized that you’d said the words aloud until you met Azriel’s amused gaze.

“Good,” he said, kissing your cheek. “Now that I have you, I have no plans of letting you go.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a greedy little batling?”

“No,” Azriel mused before lightly sucking below your ear. Your breath hitched in response. “Tell me more about how greedy I am, sweetheart.”

“That's not fair," you whined. "You're playing dirty and you know it. Azriel.”

He flashed you a wolfish grin, relishing the way his name rolled off your tongue. His shadows danced in response as though they enjoyed the sound as much as he did.

“You have no idea,” Azriel whispered. “But you’ll find out exactly how dirty I can get when it comes to you.”

Whatever witty response died in your throat as Azriel pinned you against the marble tub and grinded his hips into you. The instinct to reach for him, to claw and grab and covet pulsed through your veins but the look on Azriel’s face made you pause.

Eyes like melted gold darkened with lust as he tilted your chin up.

“I plan to take my time with you,” Azriel murmured, littering kisses along your shoulders. “And you’ll enjoy every second of it. Do you understand, sweetheart?”

Patience had never been your strong suit, but for this male, for Azriel, you were more than willing to play.

You smiled sweetly, a wicked gleam sparkling in your eyes as the shadowsinger flashed you a predatory smirk. “Yes, sir.”

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