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#so if you see it and have any thoughts tomorrow... do tell
lani-heart · 2 days
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|| series masterlist || next // previously ||
genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> kang yeosang x reader warning(s) -> smut, slight dollification, first time ?, oral ( receiving ), fingering, words -> 2.1K
abstract -> "Do you want to say yes? In being my mate?"
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yeosang's perspectvie
“I don’t know why you haven't made a move yet,” Wooyoung told me and I sighed. San and Wooyoung have given me the push to make her my mate. 
I wasn’t keen on sharing her… in fact, if I didn’t respect them I would try to keep her to myself. That idea just seems selfish now, especially after helping me. 
“You’re also in pre-heat” San said and I scoffed. I know it is getting worse as the days go by. Soon I'll have to trap myself in my room.
“Unless you decide on a heat hotel?” The suggestion made me sick. “No way, I’d rather masturbate my whole heat,” I said and they laughed at me...
“Yeosang, are you ready to go yet?!” I heard as I saw my little angel now in the outfit I picked out to take me to that stupid kennel. I may have told her in case I should get heat suppressants. 
“Good luck with the hormone pills,”
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“Are you sure you want the pills? I could set up an appointment for a hotel?” she asked and I fought off the urge to ask her to help me. Everyday it was getting more difficult with her scent and presence only making it harder for me. 
When we made it to the stupid facility I was taken into the doctor’s office. The one who doesn’t like me… because I bit him. 
Asking me questions of how im settingling, if there's any abuse, and my options of heat. “You don’t seem so sure of the pills” he said and I sighed. “I dont have another option” I said and he nodded. “You aren’t fond of other hybrids aren’t you” he said as he typed away. 
“No.” I said and he sighed. 
“Heat suppressants have side effects you know pretty well. You’ve been on them a lot, so a lower dosage is recommended but it won’t help your heat too much. You’re not fond of hybrids but you do well with them, I would recommend a heat hotel for you” he suggested and I didn't want it. 
“Though it is your choice as well as y/n’s,” he said and I didn't say another word as he led me back outside. “The pills should be ready in the morning tomorrow, good luck,” he said as she signed for my pills.
“Although, I would recommend looking into private organizations. With your social status and Yeosang being a purebred hybrid you could get him a mate” he suggested and I was frozen. A private mate… I've heard of these before. They suggested these… to my previous owner. 
“Oh? Yeosang, do you want a mate of your own?” she asked me and I wanted so badly to tell her yes. I wanted her to be my mate. 
I couldn’t answer.
“Yeosang, are you okay?” she asked and cupped my jaw to get my attention. “It was just a suggestion, but the pills will be ready tomorrow” he said and she nods as she grabs my hand to lead me out. 
“Yeosang, what happened?” she asked and I sighed.
“When did you realize you liked San?” I asked and her face heated up. “San? Well, I never thought of a romantic relationship with him. I wasn’t even looking for one, but his heart was coming up, and… he asked me to help him and asked me to be his mate. I realized I didn’t mind it…” she said and I chuckled. “How about Wooyoung?” I asked and she sighed. 
“If i’m being honest? Wooyoung was my crush during my school days, he was always taking care of me and in all honesty I always thought I wanted a boyfriend like him” she said and I smiled. They knew each other the longest… It was cute. 
“How about me… do you see me in any way like that?” she asked and she said nothing. “Yeosang, I don’t want you to think–” “Cause I like you. A lot actually, I think I liked you since you sat at the stupid apartment complaining that there was nothing in the fridge but strawberries, chocolate, and whip cream. '' I said and she stopped walking. We were now in front of the apartment building and she looked at me stunned. 
“I don’t want to intrude into your relationship with them… which is why I want to be on suppressants," I said and she sighed. “You’re my pretty hybrid, and I love you but I can't betray them,” she said and I chuckled. 
“Then talk to them”
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I didn’t know they didn't talk to her about it. 
I thought they suggested it and she just didn’t mention it to me. She has a big heart… I know she’s loyal to them. San even told me how she didn’t want to tell him her feelings for Wooyoung while she was his mate. 
I heard a knock. 
“Hello, angel,” I said and she opened the door, peeking in. “Can we talk?” she asked and I nodded. I was lying down when she came into my room looking nervous and looking anywhere but me. 
“You talked to them,” I said and she nodded. “San always does love leaving his scent on you… even if he wants me to tell you how I feel” I said and she chuckled “Since you’ve met me then?” she asked and I nodded. 
“You’re a pretty girl,” I said and noticed how her cheeks reddened. “You’re a pretty hybrid,” she said and I felt my tail move slightly. “Do you want me to help you?” she asks and I had to try hard not to jump on my desires. “Do you want to help me?” I asked and I could tell she was flustered.
“I would be your mate,” she said and peeked up at me. Those innocent eyes of hers will kill me. 
“If you’d like,” I said and she sighs. “How does it work? With other hybrids… they wouldn’t be your mate if you… uhm” she said and I laughed. “You’re right… but I like you. My body knows that so the desire in my head to claim you is there, do you want me to claim you as mine?” I said as I knew I stood up in front of her. 
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she asked and I smiled. 
“I don’t want you to tell me you like me and regret it,” I said and she looked up at me. “I don’t think I would… I just don’t want you to think of me like her” she muttered and I scoffed. 
“How could I ever mistake you for her?” I said as I lifted her chin to look at me. 
“Do you want to say yes? In being my mate?” I asked and she looked up at me nervously and nodded. 
I’m gonna ruin you for them.
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no one’s perspective
“My beautiful angel, you're mine and i'm yours,” Yeosang said as he started pushing you on the bed to tower over you on his bed. He reached up to kiss you… it wasn’t desperate or fast. A soft and slow kiss that escalated almost like Yeosang wanted to savor your taste. 
All while his hands wandered off your hips higher until he reached your rib cage just below your chest. “Such a lewd sight for such an innocent thing like you… maybe I shouldn’t be calling you angel after this” he teased you. “So pretty… especially when I dress you up in these dresses and do your hair. You’re almost like my doll” he said as kissed down your neck to your cleavage and now to the waistband of your panties. 
“You’ve ruined them” he teased as he put a finger onto your clothed clit. A dark wet spot was visible to him and the more he touched the more you squirmed under his touch. 
“I need you to concentrate,” he said as he now gripped your hips tight and looked at your eyes. 
“I can edge you over and over again until you cum so hard you see white, or I can make you cum over and over again until you scream for me to stop,” he said, only adding to the wet spot on your panties. 
“Then again… you three were virgins so I don’t expect you to know too much,” he said with a smirk while you avoided his gaze. “I think i want to see these eyes of yours filled with tears”' he confessed as he put his hand on your neck just below your jaw so you could look him in the eyes. 
“What do you say, angel?” he asked and you smiled softly at him “I trust you,” you said and in Yeosang’s mind, he just wanted to ruin you. 
You made a mistake. 
He immediately dove down to your clothed pussy and licked you through the fabric he chose. He doesn’t want to admit it but he’s just as much of a pervert as San and Wooyoung. 
Wooyoung was easy to fluster… especially since recently Yeosang has been showing you what underwear to wear with certain clothes. As much as it was awkward for him to do so… it was normalized. 
Yeosang would sometimes tease the two saying what pair he chose for you to wear today.
Now being able to taste you through the pair he did choose this morning was making him harder than he’d like to admit. 
“Can I take this off, doll?” he asked, testing out what you were comfortable with in which you nod and he takes off your panties and bra leaving you bare. 
He kissed you pressing his body against yours as he groped your chest making you moan and whine into the heated kiss as he forced you to taste yourself.
When he finally pulled away a string of saliva connecting the both of you, he started marking you. Making sure that the mark he was making was gonna be seen by your two other mates. 
Everything for him was blissful… he never felt the need to actually want to enjoy having sex with people, but you weren’t just anyone. As he now lowered to suck on your breasts. His hands now lowered down to your clit. 
Not being able to control your moans and whimpers as he barely even toyed with you was music to his ears. His main goal was to stretch you out… despite having mated with Wooyoung who just like him was a canine he needed to make sure you weren’t gonna be in pain. 
He knew some people liked the pain… but he couldn’t imagine doing that to you. 
“If everything becomes too much, tell me to stop, okay?” he asks you and you nod as he now lowers himself to the source of his lust. Licking up your entrance into your clit was a lot more pleasurable than you expected. 
So when he pulled away you couldn’t help but whine, frustrated by the lack of contact. However, he pressed the tip of his cock against your clit. Moving slightly to add pleasure to your clit and coat you with his pre-cum. 
He looked at you waiting for permission. “I trust you, Yeosang” you stated confirming his thoughts as he slipped in slowly at first only the tip of his cock teasing you. Even though you weren’t a virgin and he didn’t need to fear hurting you, he wanted to make sure he didn’t cause you any pain from having to adjust to him. 
Slowly bottoming out has you gasping for air while he leaned down to meet your face. “I don’t even want to move… you feel so addicting” he confessed as he marked your neck some more. 
He started moving slowly, thrusting into you slowly with very little force to make your body bounce just slightly. It was enough to make you whine out and show him your frustrated expression. 
“What's wrong? I can pull–” “No,” you said while lifting your legs to wrap against his waist. He chuckled as he placed his hands on your chest and he started thrusting out of you, eventually leaning back at an angle that made you feel something that neither San nor Wooyoung achieved. 
Moans getting louder when he was pushed out and a gush of liquid squirted out of you… he only chuckled leaving you confused at what happened while he lowered down to lick up your mess and finger you. Hitting the same spot… “Yeosang… no don’t–” you couldn’t stop him when it happened again and he rubbed your clit through it. 
You were starting to get tired… you came twice times and he hasn’t came once. 
Deep in thought he slapped your clit lightly to make your body jolt and you to look at him shocked with a sharp moan. 
“What are you thinking about?” he asked and you sighed. “Are you enjoying–” “Never ask me that, I can go for many more hours… I just want to have fun with you first” he said sadistically. 
“I wanna corrupt my little angel” 
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please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3
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yournextbimbogf · 2 days
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I heard this soundgasm audio about a friend! Bartender x listener and i cant help but to think about it being Miguel ૮꒰ ˊᗜˋ ꒱ა
“What can i get for you today?—” Said miguel when he used his almost robotic tone. He had a smile plastered on this face as he cleans a empty beer glass. Suddenly at the sight of you he grins at the sight of you sitting infront of him.
“Ahh its just you.” he says in a sarcastic tone yet again, you were his best friend since Highschool yet ever since he got this job he has seen you as more.
“Don’t gotta use your fake voice all the time you know?” You argued back holding back a chuckle. Suddenly his hands fly up as he’s quick to defend himself.
“Hey! It’s not my fault i thought i saw a new costumer” he belted out in a defending tone, after all you were his best friend and his best costumer.
“Like your not excited to see me.” you say in a teasing tone back at him. Before he can even reply back he pours you a shot of tequila before sliding the glass across the wooden table. As the glass touches your hand you instantly drink it as you shake your head from the usual sour taste. Miguel finishes cleaning up the dirty glasses as he places them into the sink.
“Hey i saw you on that dance floor and i promise you were bending your back like there’s no tomorrow.” He says while chuckling slightly, all though it was cute seeing the way you danced and laughed. He sees you covering your face in embarrassment as you giggle too. He knew he wasn’t the one to talk, he couldn’t admit he was Atleast staring at your body for a good minute.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t like it though.” You blurted out without a thought in mind. You immediately back track your words before your eyes widen.
“But i did though so what now?” Miguel blurted back. All you personally wanted to was just grab his uniform and kiss him, you didn’t know if it was the alcohol talking or yourself. So you decided to pass the silence by doing what you always wanted to do. You grab his collar and kiss him, a couple of moments later he pulls back before saying.
“Look, if you want to do this i want you to tell me that you do.” He sees you nod your head and sighs yet again.
“I’m serious, i care for you and i don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” He insisted. He didn’t want you to feel any sorts of uncomfortable.
“Yes Miguel i want to do this.” you say this with a smirk.
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Now here were you two. Panting and sweating like there’s no tomorrow. The sweet smell of sex is clouding the room as he kisses all the way to your neck til he stops at your pussy.
“May i?” He chimed before taking off your panties and licking your clit. His fingers slip inside you as you can feel a big wave of pleasure hitting your body. You feel yourself on the verge of cumming
“Mi Reina, cum for me.” After he said that, that instantly sets you over the edge and you moan loudly. He smiles genuinely before standing up. He can tell by the look on your face that your hiding something that you want to say, so he tilts his head in confusion.
“It’s nothing i jus’ wanted..you know?” You say gesturing that you wanted to have his cock too. He unzips his pants and lets out his cock. Your eyes slightly open at the length.
“This is what you wanted?” He spoke in a almost mocking tone. He comes closer to you and slaps the tip onto your pussy before sliding it in. Right away he groans at the sight of your cunt hugging him like a glove. He starts to move and kiss you. He bucks his hips into yours while his tongue finds his way inside your mouth. He pulls back and kisses your neck, he starts to make hickeys on your neck while he’s still inside you.
“F-fuck, oh god miguel! I’m cumming” you stammer out in pleasure, as you do you feel a hand rubbing your clit. Miguel’s eyes shut as he feels your pussy tighten around his base. He instantly cums inside your pussy leaving you with a full feeling. He pulls out his cock and he watches the sight of your pussy dripping with his cum. He smiles before telling you something.
“I know i can’t believe i’m saying this but..I’ve had feelings for you since i got this job as a bartender. I love your smile, your hair, your eyes, i love everything about you.” He finally tells you after keeping it a secret. He sees you smile as you spoke in a soft tone.
“Miguel you could’ve taken me out first?! i’m playing but I’ve liked you too.” He grunts in fake annoyance before plopping down next to you and pressing your head into his chest and sighing.
“You are the most perfect one aren’t you?”
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and btw tysm for the banner @saradika-graphics ≽^•⩊•^≼!!
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viperwhispered · 3 days
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Rest
Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.
At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 
However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.
You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.
So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.
It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.
At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.
“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.
Of course.
It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.
You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.
“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.
“Yes.”
“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”
“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.
Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.
“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.
Really, when did he get so tired?
And how did you not notice it earlier?
You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.
Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.
You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.
Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.
Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.
“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.
Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.
“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”
“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.
Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.
But sometimes you really wish it would be.
Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.
Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.
“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”
You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.
“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”
Still, Jamil frowns.
You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?
“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.
And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.
“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.
It seems he has accepted his fate.
You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.
And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.
Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!
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doe-eyed-fool · 2 days
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Prey | Chapter Three
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Alastor x Fem!Reader
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"Mimzy! How's my favorite flapper girl?" Alastor greets the shorter woman as he strolls into the lounge. Mimzy was at the bar, in the middle of a drink when she saw Alastor. A bright smile found it's way to her face. "Alastor! What brings you by?" She asks before turning her attention to the bartender. "Hey, a round of whisky for me and my good friend here." She tells him. 
Alastor took a seat next to her. "I actually wanted to speak to you about a friend of mine. You know her, Y/n L/n. She's looking for work, you see. Something new, something that can really turn her mundane life around."  He explains. "Oh?" Mimzy raises an eyebrow. "You suggesting I let her preform? She good at singing and dancing?" She asks. "I can't just let her preform, just because you like her." A small smirk fell on her face.
Alastor decided to ignore her teasing. "She's as good as they come." He says. "Listen, I'm going to level with you Mimzy. I've been trying to get Y/n out of her unfortunate situation for a while, and every time she refuses my help. Stubborn one, she is. But this is something she's actually willing to let me help her with. I promised her I'd at least talk to you about it. But I assure you, if you give her the chance, with time, she will be brining in all sorts of people to your lounge."
Mimzy hummed as she thought about it. "I guess there's no harm in letting her try." She shrugs. "I've only met her a maybe twice, but she seems like a decent gal. And I trust you Al, if you say she's good, then she must be."
"Excellent! She'll be ecstatic to know you said yes." Said Alastor with a grin. "I haven't said yes, yet. I said I'd give her a shot. She'll have her answer, once I see her in action." Mimzy corrects him. "Now, while you're here..." She hands him a glass of whisky. "Let's enjoy the rest of the evening, shall we?"
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You walk inside your apartment, exhausted from today's shift. Lot's of people came in, and you were kept on your toes throughout the whole day. Right now, you wanted nothing more than to just sleep. However, the knock at your door would prevent you from doing so. With a groan you walked to the door and opened it, annoyance clear as day in your face. Upon noticing who was on the other side, your mood quickly shifted.
"Alastor?" 
"Good evening, Y/n. May I come in?" Alastor asks politely. "I have wonderful news, you just have to hear." You nod your head and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. Shutting the door, you approach Alastor with curiosity. "What is it?" 
"I spoke with Mimzy tonight, and she said she'd give you a chance." He tells you. You almost couldn't believe it. Almost. Of course Alastor could get someone to go along with what he wanted. Rarely was there a time someone refused to hear him out. And now, thanks to him, you might actually have the chance to achieve your dream. 
"Al, you mean it? She wants to give me a chance?" You ask. Alastor nods. "I suggest you tell your boss, you wont be making it in tomorrow. Because she wants to see you first thing in the morning." 
"What?" You gasp. "But that's so soon!" 
"The sooner the better, no?" Alastor chuckles. "I'm sorry about the short notice, but she wouldn't accept any other time. She's a busy gal, she says." 
"How am I going to explain this to my boss?" You ask worryingly. "I could always explain it to him." Alastor smirks. "Explain that you're moving on to bigger and better things. Explain how he was always a slimy, no good excuse for a man, and you deserve better. And how-"
"Ok, Al. I get it." You chuckle. "But no, you don't have to do that. I'll talk to him." 
"Oh, Y/n. Always wanting to do things the hard way." Alastor shakes his head. You just shrug. 
"Thank you, Alastor. Really, I don't think I could have done that on my own." You say with a soft smile. "Anything for a dear friend." Alastor tells you. Your smile fell slightly and you felt a light stab at your chest. You ignore the feeling and continue. 
"Well, I should probably get some rest. Big day tomorrow, right?" 
"Indeed! I'll get out of your hair." Alastor says as he makes his way to the door. "I wish you all the luck int he word, Y/n. And I'll be there, right by your side for your audition tomorrow morning. I promise." 
"Thanks Al." You say before yawning. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Y/n." 
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You smooth out your dress as you briskly walk to Mimzy's lounge, your heart was beating wildly in your chest, and not just from your fast pace. You never felt more nervous, today could be the day that changes your life completely, you have to be perfect. Nothing could go wrong today, it just couldn't. 
As you approach the lounge, you saw Alastor waiting just outside of the door. He gave you a wave as he saw you. You smile weakly and hurried to his side. "Morning." You greet him breathlessly. "Good morning, Y/n. Today's the big day!" Alastor says excitedly. You only nod your head, hands shaking by your side.
"Nervous?" Alastor offers.
"Terrified, more like it." You tell him. "Oh, Alastor. What if I do terribly? I would have wasted yours and Mimzy's time, and just make a complete fool of myself." You say with a shaky sigh. "Come now, you'll do just fine." Alastor said, placing a hand on your trembling shoulder. "How did your boss take the news?" He asked.
"Well, I didn't say I was quitting. Just that, I had somewhere important to be and couldn't stay for my shift." You then grimace. "The look on his face made me want  to curl up and die. He didn't say much, but I could tell he was upset with me." 
"Psh, he can be upset all he wants. He should feel grateful he didn't say anything to upset you. Otherwise, I'd be down there right now." Alastor mutters, his tone dipping low. "Anyhow!" Then his tone was right back to the usual liveliness. "Let's show Mimzy what you've got!"
Alastor leads you inside the lounge, there wasn't anyone in this early, so it was entirely empty. Aside from Mimzy, who was having a smoke at one of the tables nearest to the stage. When she noticed the two of you, she puts out the cigarette and stands from her seat. "Morning, you two. Come on over." 
You and Alastor approach Mimzy, all the while, she kept her gaze firmly on you. "Hm, yeah, just as pretty as I remember her being. Good start." Mimzy says as she checks you over. "Real question is, can you sing?" 
"Y-Yes ma'am." You nod. "Yeah? I'll be the judge of that, sweetheart." Mimzy smirks. "Now, get on up there." She points her thump at the stage. You exhale shakily and glance at Alastor. He brushed his hand on yours and nods. You walk towards the small set of stairs that lead to the stage, and climb them. You approached the microphone and held it gently. It was just two people, Mimzy and Alastor, and yet it felt as if the whole world was watching. 
"I've got a song picked out for you already." Said Mimzy before nodding towards the man at the piano near the rear of the stage. "I hope you know it." The music began to play, and thankfully you did know this song.
You swallowed a lump in your throat and bean to sing along.
I'm sentimental, so I walk in the rain I've got some habits even I can't explain Could start for the corner, turn up in Spain But why try to change me now?
I sit and daydream, I've got daydreams galore Cigarette ashes, there they go on the floor I'll go away weekends, leave my keys in the door But why try to change me now?
There was a point in the song, where you had found yourself becoming less tense. Your eyes closed, and instead of focusing on who was watching you, you look back on your memories. Memories of your parents and yourself, when you were younger. Singing along to songs on the radio with them, the sound of their voices, their faces.
Why can't I be more conventional? People talk, people stare, so I try But that's not for me, 'cause I can't see My kind of crazy world go passing me by
So, let people wonder, let 'em laugh, let 'em frown You know I'll love you till the moon's upside down Don't you remember I was always your clown? Why try to change me now?
You slowly open your eyes as the music died out, and once again it was just Mimzy and Alastor watching. Mimzy was the first to speak. "Alright. I think I have my answer." You felt nervous all over again, heartbeat picking up in your chest as you await her answer. 
"You seem a bit tense, but I guess that's normal for your first time singing in front of folks. But you'll have to handle your nerves when you sing in front of people for real. A nice voice doesn't pair well with a stiff performer." She starts. "But, I think with some practice, you'll be doing just fine. I expect a lot more folks in here now that you're gonna be singing on my stage." 
"D-Does that mean I...?"
"Welcome to showbiz, kid!" Mimzy smirks. You smile brightly at her words, looking to Alastor, you noticed he was just as happy as you were. "See, what did I tell you?" Alastor shrugs. "She's a natural." 
This was really it, you would finally make something of your life. You could finally follow your dream. And it was all thanks to Alastor. You figured you should do something nice for him, after all, he's been so kind to you for all these years.
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drapopia · 1 day
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hard day's work
pairing: papa emeritus ii x reader
warnings: some small mentions of getting hot and heavy, the usual mention of secondo and the reader having a healthy sex life
summary: For a man who boasts of a plush king sized bed, Secondo surely loves falling asleep in an armchair with a good book, to the despair of his back the next day.
word count: 1.4k
authors note: whoa buddy, here's another ghost drabble! i have a hard time with secondo's personality, especially in softer, domestic spaces. i just hope i've done a sort of okay job? with time comes improvement! hopefully ya'll enjoy it, feedback is highly appreciated! :)
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The room is silent, save for the hum of the central heating and the occasional flip of a page. 
Well, it’s almost silent. Secondo sits in the corner of the room in his armchair made of lush velvet, a dark green that stands out against the muted gray robe he wears. You can see the slow rise and fall of his chest, his head reclined back against the chair at an angle. You can tell that if you don’t wake him soon, he’ll wake up tomorrow with a grumble and a hiss, and you would have to rub the knots from the base of his neck with a coo and a kiss. Not that you mind, but you don't want him in pain, even if he enjoys the feel of your hands on his sorest spots. 
His hands rest on his lap, the book he was reading was slowly but surely slipping out of his hands. His breath is still light and even, a far cry from the usual deep snores he lets out when he’s checked out for the day. From your spot on the loveseat across the room, you can see his nose twitching in the cold air. Although being curled up in the fleece blanket on the couch is appealing, the thought of leaving him in the cold, even while dozing, makes your heart twinge in distress. How many times had he roused you from your sleep after a long movie, picking you up gingerly and tucking you into your shared bed? You couldn’t count, you couldn’t help but feel comfortable around him. You always had, even when you first entered the Ministry. 
With a sigh, you pull yourself up from your sitting position, walking as quietly as possible towards him. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you got closer to him, standing beside and gazing down at him. His face was bare of paint, his eyes only holding a small smudge of black at the tightest corners of his crows feet. His nose was still twitching with the rise and fall of his chest, his breath light and slow. As quietly and gently as possible, you reach for his book to pull it from his loose grasp. Your hands close around it, and mark it to keep his place. Turning it over, you inspect the cover with a small smile. He was re-reading Crime and Punishment. You had teased him many times about it, how he would scoff and roll his eyes about his distaste for older Russian literature. How he felt it went on and on, was repugnantly repetitive, self pitying and obnoxious. But here he was, turning the pages once more of a book he ‘despised’. 
Shaking your head, you turn towards him once more and place your hand on his cheek. You feel the harsh contours of his face, thankful that you couldn’t feel any tension in the apples of his cheeks. This week had been hard on him so far, and it was only Wednesday. You had found him earlier in his office when you stopped with a teeny-tiny quick pick-me-up espresso. While he had thanked you with a kiss and a light squeeze of your hand in his, you had seen the way his shoulders remained bunched with tension, how his hands had a tremor as they held the tiny cup in his hand. And now here he was, as docile as the lambs he spoke of in his captivating sermons at Mass. 
Leaning forward, you press a kiss to his cheek and pull away a fraction, noticing the way his eyelids twitched and his small mustache scrunched up. Smiling, you pepper kisses on his cheeks, as delicately as you can muster. A soft huff of breath hits your neck from where you’re positioned. 
“Cara, what are you doing?” He murmurs, a ricochet of heat hitting your stomach at the deliciously rich timbre of his voice. A large hand, free of his gloves and comfortably warm, hits your hip. You pull back slowly, meeting his gaze as he blinks his syrupy eyes to clear the sleepiness. 
“You know you can’t sleep here, you’ll be groaning all day tomorrow. This armchair doesn’t look all that comfortable, to be quite honest.” You whisper softly. 
“That’s what you think.” He says quietly, the corners of his lips barely noticeable and curling into an almost imperceptible grin. Secondo was more permissible, a tad bit more open when he was slowly slipping from sleep. His eyes held a softness, his words losing their bite. And while you loved the cold charm of him in the day, it always made your heart skip a beat to see him so delightfully unguarded when he woke to the sight of you. 
You pat his chest softly with your hand, raising up with a soft puff. “Come on, we’ve gotta get you into bed.” Your lips turn up at the corners at his small huff of exertion, extending your hands in an inviting gesture towards him. He slides up the armchair, stretching out slightly as he grabs your arms to pull himself up with a groan. And just as he rises from the chair, his arms come to wrap themselves around you, gazing down at you. 
He looks at you, a fond smile on his face. Without the guards of papal paint or his sunglasses, his face was so kind. So much easier to see the way the creases on his forehead melted, the way his eyes crinkled with barely concealed adoration. “Shuteye? I suppose we could.” He rasps, leaning in to press a kiss against your lips. HIs accent was deliciously thicker in the throes of sleepiness, and you felt the hair on your neck rise. 
You return the kiss, your lips moving in a well practiced synchronicity. But unlike the passionate nights you shared and the lascivious words he would whisper in your ear with no shame, there was no heat behind the kisses you were exchanging now. Even as his hands curled behind your back, tracing the curve of your spine with dedication and reverence. You smile against the kiss, breaking it as you pull back. 
“Come on,” you whisper and press a kiss to the tip of his nose before he could scoff in mock distaste. “I’ll warm up the heating blanket, maybe give you a back rub? Read you some more of that delicious Russian literature you like so much?” You say teasingly, grabbing his hand and walking towards your large bedroom the two of you found respite in every day. In each other's bodies, words, and simple gestures. 
“I hate Dostoevsky, you know this.” He grumbles, ambling beside you to wrap his arm around your waist and pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as your feet hit the plush carpet of your room. 
“Of course, of course. And that’s why you fell asleep with it in your hands.” You smile, rolling your eyes. You reach the bed, pulling back the duvet. Slipping in with a sigh, you pull the covers up to your neck and nestle in, much like a rabbit in its burrow. 
Secondo slips off his robe, completely naked. Before you can admire him, he slips into bed beside you and pulls the covers over himself. Maybe tomorrow you can catch a quick peek, but for tonight, you'll be content with the heat of him beside you.
“I had to bore myself, send myself off to sleep, no?” He leans back against the pillows, gesturing lackadaisically for you to lay against him. You shuffle closer to him, his warmth a soothing balm to the unease of the day. 
“Just come curl up with me instead, problem solved.” You murmur, and Secondo chuckles at your comment as he leans over to flick off the lamp on his nightstand. 
“What do you think it is we’re doing here, amore? I want you here with me, not the dreadful pages of a self pitying bastard pouring his heart out.” He says softly, his eyes falling closed. Papa is still tired, the rise and fall of his chest becoming more even. Your hands reach out instinctively, patting his tummy with as much care as possible. 
“That almost sounds like an ‘I love you’, Secondo.” You say quietly, the tease barely noticeable under your exhaustion, feeling your own eyes slip closed under the weight of the darkness over you both. His hands pull you closer, his chest hair a cushion on your cheek. 
“I do love you.” He says softly, the soft silence around the two of you relaxing the both of you quicker than you’d like to admit. “Now shush, amore.” He says firmly, but with no bite. You smile to yourself, and all you hear is the soft breathing of your Papa, your best friend beside you. 
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capricornlevi · 2 days
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"i'm telling you, it was his first word!"
you roll your eyes without any malice, sitting back in the couch with your arms folded. you meet erwin's gaze again, convinced that you're right in assuming he's trying to soften the blow of missing your child's first words.
"i know you're trying to be sweet, 'win, but i know it wasn't. and that's okay! there'll be other words! words that i won't be at work for."
with your son tucked carefully in his arms, the baby sound asleep and blissfully unaware of the ramifications of whatever syllables he'd gurgled an hour or so before, your husband smiles down at you with the sort of adoration you never thought you'd receive.
"it was. i heard it. ma-ma, clear as day," he claims, assured and unyielding.
you laugh, just quiet enough to not wake the baby from his slumber. "he's been throwing "da" at me all week, 'win. he's not pulling ma-ma out of nowhere."
"want me to wake him?" erwin offers confidently. "because I'm not above doing that."
you raise your eyebrows. "so you'll be up until three a.m. when he can't sleep?"
"gladly," he responds as if he means it, "if it will convince you."
you stand up, beaming as you wrap your hand around erwin's waist, peering in to see the smooshed-up face of the little infant resting against his chest.
"i'll just have to call in sick tomorrow," you suggest in a whisper, "and we can spend the morning settling this once and for all."
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stars1997 · 2 days
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Lover Boy - Part 1
Warnings: None
Pairing(s): Jeremy Swayman x Fem!Reader
Summary: Y/N Ullmark gets a job with the Bruins as their new photographer. They haven't seen each other in a few years, some things have changed. What happens when her brother's best friend develops a crush on her?
“Hey guys today’s media day as you know, we gotta get our roster shots. We have a new photographer so do me a favor, be nice to her, she’s ullmarks sister.” I heard Brad Marchand say from inside the locker room. A series of cat-call whistles went off in the locker room before I heard my brother clear his throat. I roll my eyes. Here we go, I think to myself. “Completely off limits to every single one of you. Don’t even think about it.” He says. The whistles continue and I let out a laugh a little louder than needed. The locker room went silent. “I guess I’ll come in now,” I said, stifling the giggles from seconds ago. “As you guys know I’m Y/n Ullmark, your new media girl. So if you guys could suit up and head out to the hallway in 20 that would be great!” I say, and just before walking fully out of the locker room, I saw someone I recognized, Swayman. The last time I saw him was when he first got signed and became best friends with my brother. He looks a little older now. We locked eyes, he gave a smile and a wave which was returned before I headed to the hallway to set up. I set up my camera stand, the lights, and the background as the guys were lining up. A few of the boys jokingly hit on me, but I took it lightly. I could tell I was going to love this job. I was down to the last two guys which were Pasta and Sway. After photoing Pasta it was just me and Sway in the hallway. “Y/n, it’s been so long. How was school?” He asked. “Ah, he speaks. School was awesome but it definitely had its ups and downs. I’ve been keeping up with stats, you guys have been doing really well. Are you excited to be in net for the rangers game tomorrow? I hear they’ve got a new bruiser, Matt something?” I asked while fixing the lighting for his photo. “Matt Rempe, yeah I’ve heard of the kid. Make sure you get my good side tomorrow. No bad angles.” He joked. I laughed and playfully pushed him into position for the photo. I snapped a few good headshots for the roster and some full body for the Instagram, which I now run. Most of the photos weren’t usable since he kept making silly faces at the camera but those were the photos I knew the fans would adore. After taking his pictures he walked back to the locker room and I started putting away the lights and backdrops. This took longer than I thought it would. Almost all of the boys had left by the time I was almost done putting it all away. “Hey, Y/n do you need any help with all of that?” Sway asked from down the hallway, walking out of the locker room in jeans and a flannel, while putting on his hat, flipping so it's backwards. “Oh no its okay, I’m almost finished.” I responded with a smile. “Are you sure, its really no bother.” He said. “Y/n, is this guy bothering you?” My brother asked, stifling a chuckle as he walked down the hallway towards us. “Hey Bubba, Sway asked me to go get drinks with him, would you mind putting the lights and tripod in the closet?” I asked my brother sweetly, watching Jer’s face drop into a puzzled expression out of the corner of my eye. “Wait, what I-“ My brother started. “Thank youuuu.” I interrupted, grabbing Sway's hand and pulling him toward the exit. I turned around to see my brother still standing there shocked. “No need to worry bubba its just as friends, promise.” Once we walked about of the arena I let go of his hand. “Alright tendy, where are you taking me for drinks?” I asked as we make the short walk over to his truck. “Well, since I don’t have much of a choice I was thinking Brock’s bar. Have you ever been?” He asked unlocking the doors and opening his own. I opened mine and grabbed the handle at the top to pull myself in. “Oh come on Jer don’t act like you don’t love my company. I’ve been once or twice but I don’t really remember those nights honestly.” I joked, and we both laughed at the hard truth while he started the truck.
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marydiva-17 · 3 days
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I will take care of her
female Jake and kiri + grace and sully family
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A year had passed since the time of sorrow of the battle with the RDA, and life had started moving on at a good pace. Jane had taken part in the eyes of ewya, giving up her old human life for navi life. That was not the only joy that came to her as she became a mother; this year, happiness filled her and Neytiro. When they had thought life had stopped giving blessings to them, it seemed like we were not done yet, as something new was coming to them.
Jane " I wonder why Norma and Max had called us here"
neytiro "She didn't say anything to you"
Jane " No she didn't"
tsu'tey "You two are friends you are always talking with each other, and seem to know everything so far"
Jane "Well yes we do know some stuff but not everything all the time, like we didn't know about spider"
tsu'tey "Yes that is true"
Jane " don't worry we are here now everything will be explained shortly" The tiro had finally arrived at the human base soon being greeted by, a few humans waiting for them as they lead them to lab.
Jane " norma we are here"
norma " good wait what of the children"
tsu'tey " don't worry we left them in the care of mo'at and one of care takers"
norma " good well we had been checking on grace avatar"
Jane " yes we kept on here in the lab"
norma " well yes we did but there was something we came across today, that you all most see right now" The group soon walked towards grace avatar to see she was pregnant.
Jane " grace avatar is pregnant"
max "yes she is pregnant and we don't know how"
neytiro" we maybe can see her videos if she was with anyone from the clan or any of the other clans"
Jane " That something we don't even know and if she did have a relationship, she might not have shared it in her logs"
Jane " is the child health"
norma " yes the baby has a good heart rate and is in perfect health"
Jane " good"
tsu'tey " this is miracle"
Jane " yes it a miracle and mystery"
neytiro " how you and norma some other avatar had kids how is mystery"
max " well only some of the avatar seem to have chance of having kids and know grace, had dead we didn't know until now"
Jane " what are you going to do about the baby"
neytiro " it will be born navi it will be raised by the people"
Jane " yes you are right as I don't think it will be human that much"
norma " well we have time until the baby be here"
Jane " good" the room had fallen silence as everyone was trying to find out what they were going to do next, for grace and her unborn baby.
That night
Jane " he asleep official"
neytiro " good he always loves your lullabies and stories"
Jane " thank you but he also loves your lullabies and stories as well"
neytiro " my Jane I wish to talk more about grace baby"
Jane " I want to talk about the baby as well"
neytiro and Jane " I think we should take the child in" the couple soon looked at each other and soon laughed a bit, as they looked at each other.
Jane " I want to take in grace baby she was there for us and I want to be there for her baby as well, she going to need a nice and loving family and I think we can do that"
neytiro " yes grace was the best and we should honor her, by become her child family along with her as well"
Jane " yes we can tell tsu'tey and norma tomorrow I know they will like to raise the child, but they have their hands full already"
neytrio " I think they will be happy for us and our kids will need aunt and uncle like them " Jane soon smiled at her husband and kissed his check, they had talked a bit more about the soon to be new family member. Soon everything had been discussed with everyone and soon agreed in to the end, as Jane and neytiro had prep their home for their new child.
Time later
Jane " aww you are so cute baby girl you remind me so much, of your mommy"Jane is holding baby kiri in her arms looking down at the girl as the little girl looked up at Jane.
Jane " our little kiri" Jane had lowered her hand towards kiri who soon wrapped her small hand around, one of Jane fingers making Jane smile.
neytiro " she already love you"
Jane " yes she does she our special girl" Jane was looking at the family she had made a on pandora, and she was very proud of what she has here.
neytiro " when she gets older will tell her more about grace"
Jane " yes we will our baby girl will know she very special family here, and that will be here in person and sprit as well"
neytiro " yes that is true" the couple had soon smiled at each other, as they look at their kids. That night the family spelt near each other, Jane was going to give Kiri all the love she can but also tell her about Grace as well. Grace was there for her when she was at her lowest and now she, going to be there for Kiri.
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476b · 4 months
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.
#ooouuuugghhhhhhh ive spend the last hour making myself sad :(#whyd i have to go catch feelings for someone who Could Not Give A Shit lol#its a blessing that im moving or i would probably just slowly kill myself for the next year#watching him Very Obviously like someone more than me lol#worst part is everyone knows im just some sadsack sidepiece#and like we were never 'together' so idk wtf im upset about!!!#i could go out and do just as much as he does!!!#but i guess i just wish it had been different and that i had gotten closer w everyone else before i had to leave :(#because now i really feel like i could have been spending way more time w everyone if i had stopped waiting for him to invite me to things#he never invited me to shit anyways!! i was ALWAYS the one to ask 'hey are you free sometime'#EVERY SINGLE TIME#killing him with hammers in my mind#i deserve so much better and i KNOW that but hes hot and smart and has such cool friends#and i just really wanted to be part of that group so badly#and i dont have any relationship expirience i dont know how all of this is supposed to Work i just#i dont know i guess i thought it would be different#anyways im seeing him again tomorrow for what might be the last time#and i wont tell him any of the things i should bc ill see his stupid beautiful face and forget everything i wanted to say#you know this mother fucker wont even help me move? more than an entire year together and he flat out says no to helping me#and i know for a Fact he'll never come visit me#and ill probably drive my stupid little ass down two+ hours just to see him#you know hes got at least two guys willing to drive hours just for him#i need to meet this other guy so we can unionize#cus i guarenteeeee hes probably treating this guy not much better than me#and i say probably the last time bc now itll be reliant on him actually making a fucking effort to see me lol#or itll just be at shows and stuff#not like itll make a big difference cus we onky saw each other once or twice a month ANYWAYS#actually makes me so angry why did i spend so much mental energy on this guy#ILL FIND SOMEONE IN ALBANY WHO ACTUALLY FUCKING LIKES ME JUST YOU GUYS WAIT#btw if i know you irl... ignore this... its shameful...
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lisxdumbr · 9 months
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I feel so abandoned lately.. it's like I'm a little girl and today is my first day of school and I know no one once again. sigh
#vent in tags?#so aheem. yeah it happens that my friends and i always play together#but when one of us can't make it none of us play because we want to be together yknow#but it happens that today I wasn't going to be able to join. and one of my friends just went-#”oh nevermind. the two of us can join to advance and you can come another day when you're able”#and i just ? idk it kinda freaked me a bit because it's the first time they say that?#but well i agreed because idk. my first thought was that they were very excited to play or something. but it did make me feel a bit. uneasy?#and yeah i tell them that i may be able to join around 11 but they just. ignored my messages#and i waited for them to reply but the reply never came#and i still opened our disc server to see if they're there and yeah. they're talking. they were projecting something a while ago too#and idk it's not that deep but i do feel a bit bad. if it had been any of the other two we would've agreed not to play till another day#but the very first time this happens it had to be with me as the subject#I've always had a rooted social anxiety that i thought i had overcome in the past but i don't think i have#my thoughts are spinning and i feel bad and the recent friendship paranoia i got is not helping#if i was normal i would probably join the vc and ask them directly why they aren't answering my messages but I'm not brave enough#so i guess I'll play alone tonight and tomorrow we'll see#but i feel very sad and lonely right now#:(#vent#rant
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shmpxx · 6 months
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CURSED SPIRIT — y.o
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⛤ curse! yuuta okkotsu x fem! reader
yuuta okkotsu being your one and only curse.
cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. multiple orgasms. groping. dry humping. public sex-ish. fingering. slight oral (f. receiving). overstimulation. thigh fucking. somnophilia. possessiveness. yandere tendencies. mentions of violence. +18!
wc: 1.2k
a/n: inspired by @deviants-forest work! etc. (go check it out) also happy kinktober! :)
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Curse!yuuta who creeps up your back, his hands finding your waist and his lips tickle your ear as he’s whispering how much he needs you on a subway train to home. “Not now…” you whisper over your shoulder to him trying not to be noticeable by others who crowded you and payed no mind, too busy on their phones. You bit your bottom lip when he presses himself against your ass in one movement already having your blood rush like crazy. You try to keep your composure like nothings bothering you but yuuta’s hard on humping into you desperately, whining in your ear and his cold hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boob. “need you ‘s bad” he was always touchy, could never keep his hands off you.
Curse!yuuta who doesn’t mind your sorcerer friends as long as they don’t get too close. Your friends can sense the heavy weight of cursed energy from you, even if they got close it was too much to bare sense yuuta was around, the air would fill thick and negative. You could barely go out with them to eat without his fingers buried in your cunt and playing your clit. They would ask you if you were okay when your head is down on the table but you just excuse it as you were not feeling well for a second but yuuta is grinning ear to ear, amused how your well your taking his slender fingers, curling them inside and you can’t help but squirm in your seat acting like your stomach is just hurting though you were about to orgasm. “Please yuuta..” you whisper to him “Come on you can cum on my fingers..” his raspy tone sending you shivers down your back.
Curse!yuuta who watches an “old friend” hug you, his hands in places that shouldn’t be. After you would praise yuuta for staying calm but yuuta would give shake his head only because you would be upset if he did anything and simply gave you a warning “Next time I’ll break his arm” “You can’t be serious” you sigh, you always knew he was.
Curse!yuuta who clenches his fist watching some prick try to flirt with you in front of him knowing he can’t be seen. Even the second time you reject him you can feel yuuta’s anger grow by the second that in any moment he would take action. “I-i have a boyfriend-“ praying yuuta doesn’t get violent “I don’t see him?” His hand coming up to touch your shoulder now he’s on the floor shouting in pain, blood from his broken nose all over his hands, shaken up that he didn’t see anyone hit him? Was he going crazy? “Pathetic” Yuuta mutters luckily he held back a lot, he could do so much worse and this wasn’t the first time.
Curse!yuuta who gets anxious that you might hate him when you get into arguments. He feels like he can’t exist without you, he’s nothing without you and the thought of you hating him makes his heart sink and scared that he’ll be all alone. He didn’t care about anyone else he just needed you. The amount of times you got tired of telling him not to hurt people and you could handle the situation yourself. He’ll plead you not to hate him and apologized excessively. “We can talk about this tomorrow” his stomach sinking by the tone of your voice that it will all end up to you hating him. He couldn’t stand the feeling.
Curse!yuuta who wants to let you know how much he loves you and how much he needs you, praying you don’t leave him or hate him. He glares at you in your sleeping state though he can’t wait til tomorrow he needed you to know now. “Please don’t hate me” “i love you so much” as he’s softly kissing your neck on each side, peeling your panties off. The cold air makes your cunt clench at his sight. He’s kissing the inner of your thighs sweetly and his lips makes contact with your pussy and a small whimper emits from your mouth. “Yuuta” you utter half sleep thinking it was only a sex dream, you were a heavy sleeper at that. he’s burying his lips between your folds trying to get more like he was so starved. If he can just make you feel good you won’t be mad at him and you can forgive him.
Curse!yuuta who can’t wait any longer, his dick pulsating through his pants even how much he gets drunk off your pussy, he loves the taste of it every time but he’s rutting against the mattress. Brings your thighs together to slip his cock between, throwing his head back letting out quiet moans as his cock is rubbing against your clit between your thighs. Your eyelids almost twitching open. He spreads your legs apart and sinks his dick into you watching your pretty lashes flutter at the sudden pleasure of you being spread apart. “Yu..?” You begin to stir awake, he kisses your lips before you start to fully take consciousness. “I don’t want you to hate me” “forgive me please” as he’s thrusting harsh inside you and swallowing your lips. By the time your walls were the shape of him every time he used you so it was easy for him to slide right in, you were made for him and he was made for you was the thought that brought him comfort. His fingers entwines with yours, his cock continuously rubbing hard in your insides. “Yuuta!” You moaned beautifully in his ear, your hand clawing at his back, yuuta loved it, it didn’t hurt him because you could never hurt him he didn’t mind it.
Curse!yuuta not wanting to stop, he’ll never get tired of cumming and filling up your pussy. You’ll be overstimulated begging him to stop it was awfully much to handle, you couldn’t cum anymore but you did as he’s plunging his cock in your abused cunt. The choke sobs and sounds of squelching filled the room “Need you-need you tell me you love me…please f-forgive me..ah!” Rubbing your clit increasing more nerves. “I-i love you yuuta! Ah-I really do! I could never be mad at you” Your words lifting weight off his chest still pounding into you. Holding you in a warm embrace to finish inside you. When he did filling up your womb one last time with his string of cum, your nails dig into his back letting your last orgasms crash into you. You let out a cry into his shoulder, your body trembles.
Curse!yuuta who needs constant reassurance you’ll never leave him, placing gentle kisses on each part of his face. Even though he’s nothing but a curse to you, being invisible to the outside world, Has a hard time showing remorse it’s just what he does to protect you, he somewhat doesn’t know that but knows he can be a bit possessive he just can’t help the urges of anyone getting close to you or worse even laying a finger.
Curse!yuuta bending you over the counter in the morning as you were trying to make yourself breakfast, last night was rough you were a bit sore but yuuta still misses your pussy. “Just a quick one I promise! I miss you so much! I’m just displaying my love for you—“ he pushes himself inside your worn out cunt from last night once again, you whimper at the feeling each time he rolls his hips when his balls slap against you. His hands reaching to your tit, massaging it in his palms. You don’t think you could ever break the curse from yuuta okkotsu.
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tender-rosiey · 4 months
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hiii 😭 I REALLY LOVE UR GOJO X YN SO MUCHHH 😔😔 I was also wondering like maybe what if y/n has a wound, like any where 🥲 it could be either on her back, arms, legs but she doesn't wanna tell gojo abt it and she hides it, then he will find out about it either she winces when gojo hugs her, starts wearing long sleeved clothes or her shirt lifts up while sleeping 🤧 TYSMM❤❤
strain — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: I am honored that you like my works, love! hope you enjoy this as well 🫶💕🫶 also happy birthday to the man, the myth, the legend: gojo satoru!! (it’s still his birthday in my country so hush I am not late)
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you are more than a capable sorcerer. in fact, you are one of the strongest in the field.
however, like anyone else, there are some moments where things get a little out of hand, and you come back bearing a rather long slash on your left arm.
but since it’s pretty late, you decided you will bother shoko about it in the morning. that is how you’re finally in your home, with satoru nowhere to be found.
you frown lightly at the fact that he is still out there fighting curses, but a part of you feels relieved that you don’t have to explain your situation right now.
the night should pass by smoothly, and you will go to shoko tomorrow: a fool-proof plan!
so you do what you can to sanitize the wound, and cover it until you can get it treated properly. you also take the chance to indulge in your favorite snack as a good job treat.
after finishing your food and tidying up for the day, you’re finally in bed, all-cozied up and avoiding anything touching your wound as much as possible.
a deep breathe in, a deep breathe out, and you slowly drift to sleep.
not much time passes before satoru’s familiar footsteps echo throughout the house.
your husband has an abundance of energy.
but it seemed like today’s missions have drained him a bit more than normal, so he skips eating anything and heads straight to your shared bedroom.
his heart softens, and his muscles relax upon the sight of you tucked in bed. he walks to press a small kiss on your forehead, quickly changing into his pajamas and settling right by your side.
he stretches a bit and turns to spoon you as per usual, eyes closing in contentment.
but you wince, even if adeptly, and it sends alarms ringing through his head.
he jerks up, and his hand is instantly placed on your arm again, softly. there is an ever so faint change in your expression as your eyebrows furrow, and he has never pulled his hand away so fast.
he keeps debating in his head whether to wake you up or not, but he swiftly settles for the former.
he needs to know what happened. so he, regrettably, nudges your sleepy form, “y/n?”
you groan, but, nonetheless, you reply, “…what?”
while satoru often likes to base theatrics around his every move and phrase, but he also knows when to get straight to the point, “did you get hurt on today’s mission?”
you’re no longer half-asleep, and you quickly sit up, eyeing your husband. knowing there is no escape nor denial, you fidget with your fingers and nod slowly.
then you hurriedly utter, “but I was going to see shoko first thing in the morning; I promise!”
he nods slowly, holding your hands in his own. you’re left to look him in the eyes. satoru’s eyes being exposed makes him feel so vulnerable, or at least that’s how he is with you.
you can see every wrinkle, and every crease; you can see what he is thinking about in real time. he has long given up hiding anything from you, and, besides, it feels fresh to just let go.
but right now, as you look into his eyes, you see them swarming with confliction, pain, and worry.
he doesn’t scold you about not going right now because he knows that you will tell him that you either thought it wasn’t a big deal or that you didn’t want to bother shoko with it.
instead, he settles on a hushed whisper of “can I see it?”
you throw him a confused look, “why? I am getting it treated tomorrow anyway,” then you smile, “it’s not going to permanent if that’s what you’re worried about.”
he shakes his head, “it’s not that; I just—“ he takes a deep breath then looks at you pleadingly, “just let me see it.”
perhaps it’s to silence his thoughts and to show him that you’re truly okay, as okay as you can be.
you’re still alive, and that’s what matters, he thinks. nevertheless, he feels the need to see just how serious is the wound anyway.
reluctantly, you slowly take off your jacket to reveal the poorly bandaged gash on your arm.
he looks up at you, asking for permission because even if he needs to see it for his own selfish reasons, he has to put you above anything and everything else.
you nod, giving the free reign to slowly take off the bandages. you can barely hold back any pained noises, but you can’t help the wincing of your body.
satoru’s frown deepens, and with every move, your husband’s heart aches. it goes like that until the wound is finally unveiled.
you feel satoru observing the cut so intently that you look away. satoru curses everything that he can think of, and never has we wanted the ability to heal others more than right now.
he straightens his back, “that’s a deep cut, y’know.”
“I know…”
“you also realize that the wound could’ve hit your chest and inevitably heart, right?”
you huff, “listen, if you’re going to give me a lecture or keep making me feel bad about it then I will have you know—“
“you could’ve died.”
you notice the strain in his voice, so you turn to finally look eyes with him. he looks pained, so hurt, maybe even terrified at the fact that there was a chance that he could’ve lost you.
your expression immediately becomes that of sympathy, “but I didn’t, and dwelling on the fact that I might’ve died will only bother you for no reason,” you hold his hand, “I am here and alive, aren’t I?”
your husband sighs, resting his head on your right shoulder, “you’re hurting my poor little heart whenever you put yourself in danger like that.”
a giggle escapes your lips, and your hands naturally find their way in his hair, fingers gently carding through, “whatever shall we do.”
“if things went my way then you would just stay home looking all pretty like you always do,” he states, and you roll your eyes.
“well, they’re going my way tonight, so—“ the clock strikes twelve, “happy birthday, silly boy.”
his eyes widen and he pulls away to look you in the face. he blinks dumbly then looks at what’s in your hands: a cupcake with a candle.
a wide grin of unbridled joy appears on your husband’s face. his eyes shimmer in the moonlight as he laughs, “I really didn’t expect it this time!”
“you outdid yourself, pretty girl,” he hums, hand caressing your cheek.
“I still have a lot more things for you,” you beam with pride. satoru can’t contain himself anymore, and he pulls you into a loving embrace.
“I love you so much,” he murmurs beside your ear, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck.
you pat his back, “I love you too, ‘toru,” you laugh, “but you’re pressing on my wound, and I think I am just going to cry and not because of overwhelming love.”
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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vampieteeth · 4 months
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finnick odair is tough. you know this. you have seen him endure more than you could ever imagine; have watched him take and give beatings like it was easy— seen him swallow fear and be brave where others couldn’t be. thus, you know finnick is tough, and then some. body of iron, mind of steel.
he is ever so soft with you, though.
you can’t help but smile as he presses his face into your neck, large body engulfing yours as if he has momentarily forgotten his size. he smells like the coast from where he has just returned from: like fresh air and salt and sand, the golden pearls almost as bronzed as his skin— as smooth as the hair he asks you to play with. it’s the only way for him to fall asleep, he says, your delicate fingers pulling through his curls, weeding out the waves; scratching against his scalp.
he’s beginning to doze. the corners of his lashes are kissing together, his breath is deep and slowing by the minute. though, he’s insisting that he’ll manage for just a little longer, mouth pressed against your skin in a half-kiss that isn’t meant to mean anything other than he loves you. it tickles— though you do your best not to laugh. finnick’s hardly ever this relaxed these days: you don’t want to disturb him when he’s so peaceful.
you don’t think he’d ever complain though, with how he behaves like you’re the one who hung the stars.
“love you baby,” he says suddenly, his voice permeating your thoughts like amber droplets of thick honey. he squeezes his arms around your middle, subsequently pressing you tighter against him. his heart beats against yours. this is his favourite way be, he tells you. “wanted to say it before i fell asleep. ‘m so tired.”
it’s a sweet and sincere sentiment. one that arrests your chest with an extremity of fondness you didn’t know you could feel.
“you took a longer swim than usual today,” you remind him, pressing your lips to the crown of his head. he hums in agreement. “no wonder you can hardly stay awake.”
“the water was warm.”
it was. the sun had shone over the water, the first twinkles of a long awaited summer. finnick loves the water more than anyone, and it was no surprise that he had spent half the day wading and swimming; diving; collecting seashells; playing games with the children who were fascinated with his ability to never tire.
if only they could see him now, you think to yourself, running a hand against the naked skin of his back.
“i know baby,” finnick melts into you at the pet name. he likes it when you’re sweet on him. “it’ll be warmer tomorrow. i’ll come with you; it’ll be nice to finish my book in the sun.”
finnick makes a noise that is probably meant to be affirmation. he kisses you again. it makes you warm all over.
“i love my studious girlfriend,” finnick whispers.
“she loves you too.”
and it’s truer, and more sacred, than any holy oath.
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lina-lovebug · 2 months
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Sharkboy and his Shadow
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Percy Jackson x fem! reader
Background: reader is the only child of Nyx, and has grown up with Percy. After being claimed, lots of kids are afraid of her, and reader feels alone. To 'help' Percy see the error of his ways, Luke and Annabeth come up with a plan.
_ _ _
"(Y/N) (L/N), daughter of Nyx, the Personification of Night, and Queen of Tartarus."
Ever since that day, (Y/N) had never felt so alone.
She grew up with Percy, always being by his side, and she felt lucky enough to see him be claimed by Poseidon. She was happy for him, and understood his rage at the same time.
But when she was claimed? There were no kids staring in awe or clapping or congratulations. There were only whispers amongst them, and stares of horror.
Because no one ever thought that Nyx would have a half-blood child.
She's Nyx. She keeps to herself, away from the affairs of Olympus and mortals.
So no one wanted to make friends with the forbidden girl.
Luke was still friendly, but it became obvious that he wasn't interested in being friends like before. Annabeth, however, still stayed by her side. She was the only one to congratulated her, and decided to explain to (Y/N) what this means now.
Not only was being a child of The Big Three forbidden, but being a daughter of Nyx? That meant more danger for everyone, and she'd become the main target for any monster who wanted her dead.
And to top it all off, she thinks Percy is avoiding her.
She hadn't seen him since she'd been claimed. She had seen him briefly during most days, but when she'd look and see him staring, he'd quickly move his gaze to the ground or the sky.
"If I thought that being a half-blood was so lonely, I'd never have come."
Annabeth felt bad for the girl, "it's not a choice, (Y/N). Nyx chose your dad for a reason."
"And yet all she's sent me is a fucking knife!"
(Y/N) yelled as she threw the dagger her mother sent her into the fire. Annabeth gasped, quickly retrieving the dagger with a stick.
The black dagger hadn't been damaged.
Before Annabeth could lecture the girl on damaging gifts from your Godly parent, she saw the tears in her eyes.
(Y/N) was angry. She'd been so angry that she started sobbing, sinking to the floor of her own empty cabin. Annabeth held her.
"I miss my dad," She sobbed, hiccuping, "I'm so alone. . .I miss Percy."
"Seaweed brain," Annabeth cursed.
Annabeth knew why Percy had been avoiding her.
Because he liked her.
Percy confessed this to Annabeth. He said he knew how important being claimed was to her. How she'd be the most sought after half-blood now.
And feared endangering her if he stayed too close.
"Tell you what?" Annabeth pulled away, "tomorrow, we'll have a girls night. I'll take you to Aphrodite cabin, and Silena will do your hair and dress you up."
She sniffled, "I doubt any of those girls want me there."
Oh, Aphrodite girls were secretly cheering (Y/N) on. They knew the consequences of having a powerful female figure in your life, but one that chose to never be present much.
"Silena does, and whatever she wants, the girls will follow."
(Y/N) didn't get much sleep that night, tears coming and going, and she only managed to find sleep when she thought of how Percy used to hold her. When they'd have sleepovers and she'd have a nightmare, Percy would always hold her until they fell asleep.
That's why she thought she was holding herself.
But her eyes deceive her.
With wide eyes, she jumped up but her head banged into the top bunk. The mystery boy awoke, asking if the girl was okay.
"Luke?! When did you-?! How?!"
"You're bleeding, (Y/N)," Luke ignored her sudden panic, helping the daughter of Nyx up. She checked her head and found some blood.
"What the fuck. . ."
Luke quickly dragged her to the infirmary, but not without notice. The few half bloods that were awake gasped, seeing Luke Castellan leaving the Nyx Cabin with (Y/N) in his arms.
And so did Percy.
"Hey, hey! What happened?" Percy called after them, catching up but hearing Percys' sudden urgency made her want to cry. He's been avoiding her for two weeks, but now he's worried?
"Put your hand on my shoulder," Luke whispered to her, and she gave him a look of confusion.
"Just do it, pretty girl," With an awkward blush, she nodded and, as a result, pushed herself closer into his chest.
"She hit her head. She'll be fine, go tell Chiron," Luke dismissed, leaving Percy with more questions than he had answers.
Why was Luke in her cabin? When did he get there? Why were you hurt?
Did he spend the night?
That last thought made the son of poseidon wish he hadn't been avoiding you all this time. It made him angry with himself that he let Luke become interested in you.
"So why were you in my room, Luke?" (Y/N) asked, holding an ice pack on her throbbing head.
"I left early this morning to check on you, and I know that Percy wanted to do that this morning. So, I figured that sharkboy might get a little jealous if he saw me in your bed," He explained with a shrug.
"Jealous?" She questioned with a scoff, "he's been avoiding me like the plague since I've been claimed."
"Did you think that because you've been claimed that he's avoiding you, or that he's avoiding you because he's scared he'll attract more monsters to you?"
"Luke, I don't have time-"
He cut her off, "it's bad enough that Percy got claimed the second day he got here. He's a forbidden child. Now, the girl he's been crushing on since diapers is the number one target of every monster out there."
"He. . .he doesn't like me like that," I said, feeling my face heat up.
Luke quirked his brow, "that's seriously what you got out of that?"
Despite her frustration and anger towards Percy, she could never despise him so much that her feelings would fade. She still cared about him and ultimately feared that her feelings couldn't be reciprocated.
"Look, if he doesn't seem interested or even the slightest bit jealous, I'll let you know," Luke knew Percy well.
In fact, Luke endured countless hours of listening to how Percy adored (Y/N). How Percy first realized that she wasn't just his best friend, or at least that's not what he wanted her to be. He wanted to be the one she sought out each morning - be the one she could lean on. As capable as she was, he still wanted to help her as much as he could.
He'd lift the entire weight of this off her shoulders if she asked.
(Y/N) had the beauty of the stars and Percy could spend the rest of his life happily staring at her.
"Okay," She nodded.
_ _ _
"Wait, I have two different outfits?"
"Of course!" Silena expressed, bringing out the second one, "this one is for our picnic tonight."
It was a gorgeous white dress that sagged off the shoulders, flowy and the top decorated with several types of flowers.
"Oh, okay," (Y/N) nodded, completely unaware that there would be no girls' night.
Just a really good plan to help force these desperate lovebirds together.
"If this doesn't get him staring, then he's blind," Silena concluded before popping on some lip gloss onto the daughter of Nyx. She could admit, she looked very pretty but her stomach became a bundle of nerves when thinking about how Percy may either ignore her and or she'd finally unblind herself to the longing looks of the son of Poseidon.
She walked out of Aphrodite cabin right as lunchtime came, and she received multiple stares as she made her way.
"How's your day been?" Luke came up behind her, swinging his arm around her shoulders.
"Honestly I still think you're crazy," She confessed, "Percy doesn't-"
He pecked her cheek without warning before whispering, "Look ahead".
And she has never seen Percy look so angry.
He clenched his tray with the fury of a God, denting it even as she looked at him. He quickly looked away, retreating back to his cabin.
Oh my God's. . .
"Percy likes me."
"Now, tonight-where are you going?!" Luke shouted as she chased after him.
She flung the door open to see his sea blue eyes filled with tears. "Oh Percy."
"I'm sorry I haven't talked to you," He immediately confessed, walking towards her, "I would never be scared of you. I'm scared of what my presence will bring to us. I'm already a target, and I didn't want to risk your safety. But I let Luke get close enough to. . ." He stared into her eyes, "I've liked you since we were eight, and I'm sorry I let my thoughts get ahead of my feelings."
"It wasn't my idea," She couldn't stand to see her sweet boy cry, "Annabeth wanted to make you jealous, make you regret ignoring me, but I didn't believe that you liked me. I never thought that you saw me as anything more than a friend."
(Y/N) grabbed his hands, "I like you, Percy. Gods, I've liked you since the first time you shared your mom's cookies with me. You're so kind, you're selfish beyond any God, and you're the sweetest. I was scared that my mother being Nyx might have pushed you away."
His hand came up to her face, "not even the Gods above could separate the two of us."
His eyes glanced between her eyes and lips, hesitating.
"Kiss me, Percy Jackson."
And he did.
The kiss was something out of a movie. She could feel the amount of love he had for her, one hand remaining on her cheek while the other held her hand. She leaned into him, and he seemed to chase her lips as she pulled away for air.
"Not everyone can breathe underwater," She reminded him with a smile.
"I think we might lose a friend tonight," Percy said, and (Y/N) frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"Luke put his lips on my girl. I'll provoke single combat," He pulled out riptide, and her eyes widened.
He gave her a quick kiss on her lips, "if you don't see me tonight, I'm drowning him."
"Percy!" He ignored her calls as he ran outside, running straight towards Luke, who laughed before realizing that Percy wasn't stopping and started running too.
"Is that Percy?" Grover asked as she walked outside, hearing the shouts coming from the forest of Luke trying to calm down Percy.
"Yup. Call Chiron, he might water board Luke."
But after Chiron managed to stop Percy, they spent the rest of the night in his cabin exchanging kisses and unexpectedly receiving a gift from her mother.
"What's this?" She questioned as the owl flew off, the small package being addressed to both Percy and her.
"From your mom, it looks like," He opened it up, and a necklace with a Triton pendant fell out. Just as he picked it up, it transformed into a black Triton that was covered in black shadows.
"Holy shit!" Percy breathed out as (Y/N) grabbed the note that fell out.
"Oh Gods," seeing her reaction, he bent down and read the note.
"Oh," He observed the Triton, "well. . .at least we know she cares."
Break my daughters heart and I'll kill you with that very Triton,
From your mother, Nyx.
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ennysbookstore · 29 days
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Ugh, As If (Hongjoong x Reader)
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Summary: Hongjoong is not someone you should be attracted to, especially considering everything that’s on your plate in your final semester at university. Unfortunately for you, he has some sound suggestions for helping you cure your insomnia…
Word Count: 11.13k
Genre/Warning: one-shot, punk!hongjoong x feminine!reader, enemies to lovers (kinda), smut (MDNI!!!), dom/sub dynamics but not super fleshed out, inexperienced!reader (never mentioned, but alluded), bondage, sensory deprivation, spanking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dacryphilia, biting, reader has insomnia, overuse of the word sweetheart, reader loves pink (it's me, I'm reader lol), implied aftercare, Jongho cameos
Author's Note: Released one day early bc I have midterms tomorrow lol. I actually have five midterms this week guys... five (!!!) I'm very exhausted and just want a tatted!hongjoong to take care of me, is that too much to ask for??? But in all seriousness, this took a ridiculously long time to write with classes and life, so I'd love for you guys to let me know what you think 🤎🤎🤎
🎧 playlist 🎧: mark: golden hour 🎸 harry styles: kiwi 🎸 5sos: easier (live from the vault) 🎸 aly & aj: potential breakup song 🎸 jooyoung: fountain 🎸 ateez: propoganda 🎸 woodz: love me harder
This is a work of fiction, and it is not meant to be a realistic representation of any real person mentioned in any way, shape, or form.
Your rapid footsteps come to an unexpected stop in the middle of the crowded sidewalk. People behind you mumble words of annoyances before walking around you. 
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you say, incredulously turned to who you thought was your friend. 
“You know I wouldn’t normally do this to you, right? Just this one time, please?” your friend begs. With her situationship still on mute, she looks at you with pleading eyes. Her eyes flicker down to her phone. He’d been on mute for just a beat too long, but when her eyes look up to your unusually angered ones, her attention is fully brought back to you.
“What the actual fuck, dude? You said we’d hang out tonight… without any distractions,” you look down at your outfit. The anger dissipates into sadness. You’d slipped on the loveliest pink sweater for the brutal January winds and even did your makeup.
It wasn’t typical of you to want to be on the streets of your college town, especially on a Friday night. There was an exam next week you had to study for, and it's neatly printed and stapled practice test was waiting to be completed on yet another sleepless night. But here you were, excited, dressed up, and ready to try something new. 
Down the street, a group of already drunk frat students are loudly stumbling out of a bar. With a sigh, you look at her phone. He hadn’t hung up on her yet. The distant setting sun reflected prettily against your sweater under your hefty coat, and the thermal leggings you’d worn under your matching pink skirt felt ridiculous now. Your hair was getting tousled in the cold wind. What a wasted outfit, you think. 
“Whatever, go have your fun, but just drop me back home first,” you tell her with another defeated sigh.
“What! Come on babes, I’ve already paid the fees for the class! At least one of us should go,” she whines with tugs at your arm. You could hear the desperation in her voice. He still hadn’t hung up, but you definitely would’ve by now. She knew her time was running out and the tugs became more eager. 
You didn’t know shit about leatherworking, but it had become your friend’s newest obsession for the week. And you were totally fine with going to a workshop and trying it out for her sake, but not alone. Not without her. 
Now extremely impatient, she starts pushing you towards the entrance of the leather shop. “I’m sure you’ll have the bestest time, and I can’t wait to see what you make! I’ll make dinner for the rest of the month and be your personal driver until the end of the semester. I love you so much, I’ll see you back at home! Bye, babes!” The excited words hurriedly stumble out of her mouth faster than you’re able to catch them, and you don’t have a chance to say anything back before she’s left you on the welcome mat at the inside entrance of Outlaw Leather. 
From inside, you watch her unmute the call and speed down the street back to her car. With an irritated huff, you shrug off your coat and observe the inside of the shop.
Shelves were stacked high with hundreds of rolls of leather. Some were plain and beige, while others were shimmery and textured with patterns. Leatherworking tools and machines were hung on one side and opposite that, an array of electric guitars lined the wall. Behind the register, there was a massive framed poster of David Bowie wearing a leather jacket with a cigarette hanging from his lips. How stereotypical. 
Between some of the shelves, you spotted middle-aged men contemplating their choice of rubber mallets while an overwhelmed younger employee was helping them decide. 
You whip your head in either direction, and very quickly, on the exposed structures in the ceilings, hanging from one of the pipes, you spot a printed sign that says “HERE FOR A CLASS?” which points further back into the expansive shop. 
Following the sign, you’re led to the surprisingly opened interior of the back of the shop. The setup of the wooden lab tables resembles a kindergarten class, but with one quick view of the sharp, jagged tools and annoyingly bright neon orange lighter in the middle, anyone could tell otherwise.
With your coat in hand, you take a seat at a fairly empty table far away from the demo lab. From the six stools at the table, only 2 were occupied by two elderly women deeply engaged in their conversation. The tables near the demo lab were filled with bright-eyed beginners observing the array of different tools at the table. 
The older women at the table seemed content in not getting to know you better, and you didn’t feel like moving tables. So in your boredom, you take out your phone to open the document of the practice test you’d saved beforehand. You wait for your phone to load, and when the struggling bar refuses to load nothing more than the first page, you slip your phone into your pocket with a heavy sigh. 
You start to spin in your seat, taking in the leather pieces that hang on the wall. There was an array of bags, belts, and wallets, but what caught your attention were the corsets. Most of them were black, but a couple were a dark, deep red. 
As you keep spinning, your legs bump into someone else’s, and you come to a stop. One warm hand rests against your thigh as it holds on to the bottom of the cushioned stool.
“Careful, sweetheart,” a warm voice rings above you. When you look up, you’re met with teasing brown eyes. 
“Sorry,” you quietly apologize, but he’s already moving past you and all you can do is look as he makes his way to the demo lab.
You weren’t one to care for appearances, but he looked fashionable. It wasn’t easy to make an apron look good, but the deep brown leather that hung around his neck was delectable on him. His bleached blonde hair was swept back, and you find yourself wanting to count each of the dangling pieces that hung from his ears. He brings one hand to brush his hair back, and on his pretty hands, you spot varyingly colored fingernails. On the tips of his fingers, you see climbing vines of ink extending to his arms from under his white button-up.
As if he can sense your eyes on him, he turns your way and shoots you a toothy grin. You quickly look down at the bare table and readjust your pink sweater. In the crowd of simple linens and leather jackets, a fuzzy pink sweater stood out like a sore thumb. With yet another sigh, you smooth down the fabric and don’t turn back towards the handsome, aproned employee until he begins the workshop. 
“Good evening, everybody. Nice to see some familiar faces, and to the rest of you,” his eyes catch yours and a smirk decorates his lips, “welcome.” He walks behind the demo lab and places his palms flat on the table. “My name is Hongjoong, and I’ll be guiding you through the workshop today. That’s my assistant, Jongho,” he points to the guy you’d spotted earlier on your way in. Jongho sends a short wave to the class. “Should I be busy, he’ll be more than happy to help you. Now, who’s ready to get this show on the road?”
As he begins to demonstrate, people stand to hover around Hongjoong’s table. From over an older lady’s shoulder, you watch him confidently slice through the sheet of leather and explain what you were making. 
You were signed up in an intermediate class to make a tool roll. A tool roll. You didn’t own any tools, save from a double-sided screwdriver the previous apartment renters had left behind, and you knew for certain your friend wasn’t one to hide tools in her bedroom. What the hell am I supposed to do with a tool roll?
Nonetheless, you watched Hongjoong’s demo carefully. If you had to make a tool roll, you were going to make the best goddamned tool roll you could. Maybe you’d even actually get around to buying tools for it. 
Hongjoong’s thin fingers expertly flatten the cut leather into his desired shapes. Then, he began to stitch a pocket shut. Turning the leather in his hands, he cuts off the excess string and pulls a lighter out of his apron. His thumb runs over the grooved gear, and a tall flame appears before him. He lights the ends before pressing them into the leather. He passes the leather around for everyone to observe as he answers someone’s questions. 
When it finally arrives in your hands, you’re impressed at the neat and straight stitches he’d done in such a short time. Two perfectly circular black dots are stamped into the leather where Hongjoong burned the end of the stitches. You run your thumb over the hardened thread and pass the piece along. 
When the unfinished tool roll is back in his hands, he takes a fork-shaped tool from his apron and drops it into the pocket he’d just created. “There you go,” he says, rolling the leather and showing it to the rest of the class. “That’s the jist of it. Obviously, you guys are gonna have to stitch in a lot more pockets.” With light laughs, everybody disperses back to their tables and begins to work on the leather Jongho had passed out.
Maybe sitting so far away from the instructor wasn’t a good idea, and it was definitely too late to move now. The beginners near the front kept Hongjoong from venturing further back into the classroom where you sat, utterly confused, and Jongho was proving to be frustratingly useless, not straying more than a couple of feet away from Hongjoong’s side. With a downturned face, you look down at your uncut leather and decide it’s better to start than being left behind. 
Taking a silver pen and ruler, you measure out the areas of the leather you wanted to cut. After double-checking, you take the pizza-cutter-looking tool and stand to cut along the soft lines you’d left on the dark brown hide. You hold up a rectangular piece of leather in your hands, feeling proud.
Next, you pick up a tool that looked similar enough to what Hongjoong had used and start marking the leather. Standing up, you begin to mark the folds of pockets. As you forcefully start pressing into the hide, you’re surprised when a thin string of leather comes up with it. That didn’t happen when Hongjoong marked his leather. Your eyes widen, but you’re already several inches down the length of your leather and decide it’s too late to stop. 
In your speechless state, you’d failed to notice Hongjoong standing at the corner of your table. “That’s an advanced technique,” he says with a laugh, and you feel your cheeks warm. “But you probably want to use a scratch awl for this part,” he adds. 
Great, I’ve successfully made a fool of myself in front of the cute leather guy. 
Boys were not on your radar, and for good reason, you think. You’d seen too many freshmen caught up in the new freedom that university provided them, reveling in the alcohol and hookups, only to turn around and get their hearts broken by a boy that doesn’t know any better. Grades slip, moods worsen, and next thing you know, they’ve wasted thousands in tuition. 
Your friend had become the most recent and most unfortunate example. Granted, you were seniors right on the cusp of graduation, but that didn’t stop her from behaving like a naive freshman. That could not and would not be you. Never in this lifetime. 
But, that didn’t stop you from having crushes on obviously attractive people. 
Hongjoong looks around the table, and when he fails to find an extra scratch awl, he pulls his own out of his apron. “Here,” he hands you a tool sleeker than the used and abused tools at the table. “Let’s leave the advanced techniques to the experts, shall we?”
You want to roll your eyes, but the embarrassment is overbearing and all you can do is take the scratch awl from Hongjoong’s hands. Thankfully, he’s called over by the more eager students in the front, and you’re left holding on to his tool in your palms. 
The deep dark brown of the wooden handle feels cool between your fingers, and with a cleared throat, you begin to mark the leather again. Hongjoong’s scratch awl is sharpened and glides across the leather smoothly. You spend an ample amount of time hunched over the piece of leather marking out even pockets. Slipping Hongjoong’s scratch awl in your skirt pocket, you grab a spool of brown thread and two needles. 
After a couple of mishaps, you think you’re really getting the hang of the saddle stitch. Pulling the thread taut, you double-check the back of your project to find a neatly aligned row of brown stitches. Not once did you go through the thread. With a satisfied smile, you flip the leather back over to the front and snip off the additional thread. 
You look for the neon orange lighter on the wooden table. When you finally look up, you find the rest of your tablemates have already completed several rows of stitches. You spot the lighter near the edge and grab it before drawing your attention back to your piece. 
Don’t bring yourself down, dumbass. It’s literally your first time trying this. This is an INTERMEDIATE class. You breathe in and nod at the voice in your head. 
With the lighter in hand, you copy Hongjoong’s movements from the demo. Nothing. You run your thumb over the grooved gear and roll it down. Again, nothing. 
You sit up straighter and crack your neck. Thumb over gear, run it downwards quickly. Nothing!
“Need help?” Hongjoong’s voice pulls you away from your frustrated actions. He’d rounded his way into the back of the room again and had been watching your amusing struggle for a few moments now. He leans across the table, elbows resting inches away from your hand. You try one more time before dropping the lighter in his outstretched palm. 
“I think something might be wrong with it,” you tell him without meeting his eyes. It was absolute bullshit. You knew it worked. He knew it worked. Your elderly tablemates, who’d used it ample times prior to you, knew it worked. 
You hear him jokingly scoff before closing his hand around the lighter. Rolling it between his fingers, he waves it in front of you. When you finally look at him, you wish you hadn’t.
With a knowing smirk plastered on his face, he holds the lighter some inches from your face. He places his thumb over the gear and runs it down quickly, pressing the red tab into the metal of the lighter. A quick flame appears and behind it, you can see it reflecting in his dark eyes. 
He drags your leather closer to him and burns the end of the wax threads. The ends of the brown thread glow yellow before quickly turning black. With a quick flick of his wrist, Hongjoong uses the bottom of the lighter to press the ends down into the stitches, and you can’t stop staring at him. 
You’re not sure, but as his eyes bounce between the burned and flattened ends, you think there’s glitter on his lids. Your eyes flicker down to his exposed arms. His long sleeves have been rolled up, and you're finally seeing the details of the ink that's decorating his skin. The black painted on his fingernails is neat, not crossing into the pink of his skin. He’s so pretty. 
With a smug smile, he turns your piece in between his palms. “Well, would you look at that? Looks like it’s working just fine.” But he’s also so cocky, so in response, you snatch the piece back with a mumbled thanks.
You keep your head down and focus on stitching the other side of your first pocket into the leather. When it comes time to cut the excess thread and burn the ends, you end up asking one of the ladies at your table, who sympathetically helps you. 
Before you know it, Hongjoong’s complimenting everyone on doing a great job and wishing everyone a good night. You look down at the singular pocket you’d managed to stitch into your leather. It seems as if there are endless sighs encapsulating your body, as yet another one escapes. You shove the leather into your bag and slip on your coat as the workshop begins to empty.
“Hey!” 
You turn and find Hongjoong leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He tilts his head and takes in your outfit. Under his gaze, you feel silly in your cream thermal leggings, pink sweater, pink skirt, and even pinker winter coat and shift your legs as Hongjoong moves to stand in front of you. With an outstretched palm, he says, “My scratch awl.”
Your eyes widen, and you pad the pockets of your skirt. Hongjoong watches your bag slip off your shoulders as you search one pocket, and then the other. The last thing you wanted was to look like a thief. You knew Hongjoong could tell you were only a novice, but you prayed he could also tell you weren’t planning on doing more leatherwork than you’d done today and his scratch awl would be of absolutely zero realistic use to you. 
Feeling the smooth wood under your skirt, you pull out the scratch awl from your pocket and place it in his palms, wordlessly. Being attracted to him was bad, but being embarrassed in front of Hongjoong was worse, you decide. 
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says with a deep smile. “You know, a girl really should know how to turn on a lighter,” he shrugs as you’re readjusting your bag over your shoulders. You roll your eyes and turn to the front door. “See you soon!” he shouts just as the door closes behind you. 
Yeah, right.
*****
“So, how was the class?” your friend slyly asks, sliding down into the empty seat next to you in the lecture hall early the following morning. At your fiery eyes, she slides a warm coffee towards, “Hey! Look, I came with a peace offering!”
“Fuck you,” you tell her with a sarcastically sweet smile, taking the coffee from her hands. Digging through your bag, you finally pull out the unfinished piece. 
She plucks the piece from your hands. “Hey, look at this! Couldn’t have been that bad if you ended up making a… a…” she hesitantly turns the leather in her hands. “Sorry babes, but what the hell is this supposed to be?”
“It’ll become a tool roll,” you shove the piece back in your bag. “Eventually,” you add, leaning back into the lecture hall’s uncomfortable chairs. 
“Eventually? So you’re going back?” she asks, pulling out her laptop.
“God, no. The instructor was a dick.” Failing to mention the fact he was also hot as hell, you continue, “But I’m sure I can figure it out on my own.”
You were naturally inclined to be determined. It was easy to rely on people and just as easy to be disappointed by them. So if there was work to be done that you could do by yourself, you would do it by yourself. 
The rest of the day passes as every day before it. You stuff as much information as you can down your throat, and when you get home, you print off practice worksheets and exams to prepare for the following week. 
As you make your way through the packets of paper, Hongjoong’s piercing gaze flashes across your mind more often than you’d like. You know, a girl really should know how to turn on a lighter. You cynically shake your head. What good would knowing that information do? You weren’t going to be stranded on an island anytime soon. A lighter would be the last thing on your mind should a nuclear war break out. Besides, you knew how to light matches. What more could you possibly need?
Taking a break from the practice exam, you pull the unfinished tool roll out of your bag. You knew at the very least you’d need a spool of thread and a needle to finish it. Looking online, you’re left more confused than when you started. Threads have different thicknesses? You run a finger over your stitches, unable to gauge a sense of thickness. Minutes into researching the needles, you slam your laptop shut and figure it’d be better to suck up your ego and begrudgingly give Outlaw Leather another visit.
With sleep no longer on your radar, you print off another practice exam and flip through the pages. Sleepless nights weren’t new to you. In fact, it was an unfortunate fact how common they’d become. Leaning back in your chair, you decide to take a walk to the convenience store underneath your apartment to grab some snacks to accompany your late-night studying endeavors.
The fluorescents of the store shake the remnants of sleep that were lingering, and with a sigh, you rummage through the selection of packaged foods. Creating a combination of possibly the most heart attack inducing foods and pain medication, you fill your basket to the brim and make your way to the register. 
The convenience store clerk starts scanning the myriad of late night snacks and pain killers. As you’re watching the total climb higher and higher, you flick your eyes to the plastic container in front of the register lined with standing lighters. 
A lighter would be more useful than matches during an apocalypse. You could reuse it several more times than a wooden matchstick. With a scoffed laugh, you roll your eyes. Hongjoong’s cocky stare still irritated you. But the other part of you feared he was right; you should know how to light a lighter just in case an apocalypse was on the radar. 
With a shake of your head, you card through the patterns, find one decorated in pink and red hearts and place it next to your unscanned items. “I’ll take one of these, too.”
*****
Several sleepless nights pass by before you’re eventually too frustrated looking at the incomplete tool roll sitting pathetically on your desk. On the following Friday after classes, you walk into Outlaw Leather with a mission in mind: Get some needles, get a spool, and get the fuck out. 
“Back already, sweetheart? Did you miss me that bad?” Hongjoong calls out from behind the register. 
You were better prepared this time around. You had straightened your back and smoothed out the ruffles in your pink skirt before stepping foot inside the shop. “Please, you’re like the stereotype personified. If I had to take a guess, I’d say your shitty motorcycle’s parked out back, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is,” he steps closer to you. “Want me to take you on a drive sometime?”
“Ugh, as if,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. 
“Okay, sweetheart,” Hongjoong says, his smile never faltering, “Why are you here then?”
You unzip your backpack and take out your leather roll, and maintaining eye contact with Hongjoong, you toss your unfinished piece on the counter. “I have to finish this. It doesn’t look the way it should, and I need it to look the way it has to. Besides, I don’t have any of the supplies I need to make any progress myself.”
Hongjoong picks up the leather and runs his fingers along the groove of your stitches. Suddenly, the self-conscious shame creeps its way up to your cheeks. Looking at Hongjoong’s finished and polished pieces on the wall was more than enough to feel incompetent, and you can’t help but wonder how silly he thinks you look mocking an actual expert like him with your badly cut and sewn tool roll. 
But if he does think you’re mocking him, he doesn’t mention it, instead saying, “It doesn’t have to look any certain way, you know that right? What I did during class was just a template. You’re supposed to customize it.” When you don’t respond, he observes your piece with a sigh and adds, “But I guess I can get you headed in the right direction.” He rounds the register and holds the piece out for you to take. 
You follow him as he weaves through the store, picking out a pair of needles and a dark brown threaded spool. As he explains the differences between the sizes of needles and thickness of the thread, you try to follow along as best you can. The sleep you’d gotten the night before was abysmal and classes had been an absolute horror today, but you don’t think you can go home only to stare at an incomplete project that definitely should’ve been done by now.
“Thanks, I’ll just do it at home,” you take the spool of thread and the needles from him and turn towards the register. 
“You know, the labs are meant for people to come and work at,” he says. The mischievous look takes over his face as he adds, “Besides, we don’t want you taking another trip down here in your pretty skirts now, do we? The weather isn’t very forgiving these days.”
You look down at the thread and then your outfit. If you went back home and your friend saw you with a spool of thread hunched over this stupid piece of unfinished leather, you’d never live it down. And it was chilly outside. And you didn’t want to go home only to be distracted by your assignments. “Okay,” you tell him. Hongjoong points you to the back of the store with a toothy grin, and you take a seat at the empty lab tables and watch him linger for a moment before turning back to the register with a smile.
It takes you some time before you’re able to get in the groove, but once you’ve marked out the remaining pockets on the leather, you take a deep breath and start sewing. And as the hour passes, you think you’re doing quite well, stitching in pocket after pocket, until you’re not.
“Joongie!” a shrill voice calls out from the front of the shop. In clicking shoes, a not-so modestly dressed girl comes running into the store. After pushing past a confused Jongho, she sprints towards Hongjoong. 
“Hi,” a sweet giggle rumbles in his throat. He holds his arms out, and the girl finds her away into them, settling her jaw over his shoulder and ruffling his hair. “Alright, alright,” he says, pushing his hair back. “Ready to get your measurements taken?”
The girl nods, and Hongjoong leads her away to what looks like an office which just happened to be so unfortunately in the direct line of your vision. 
You try your hardest not to look or listen to them, forcing your eyes down on the half-sewn pocket, but when the girl shrugs off her fur coat, you can’t help yourself. She’s dressed in a tight black cropped tank top that surely does nothing to protect her from the cold. She tosses the fur coat over a chair and laughs at something Hongjoong says. There’s a low ringing in your ears, and momentarily, you’re glad you can’t hear their conversation.
You watch Hongjoong take a measuring tape from a desk drawer and frown as he wraps it around her waist. It deepens when he measures the curve of her breasts next. All while happily conversing with her, he takes a final measurement of her hips. 
You look back down at your nearly finished tool roll and sigh. An unfamiliar emotion bubbles in your chest, and you think you certainly must look ugly. Your head aches from being in a frustrated frown all day, and you think the beginnings of blisters are forming on the pads of your fingers from pinching the thick needles for hours on end. 
It was jealousy. It felt misplaced and dirty in your system, like a bottomless pit eager only to take and never to give. Here you were sitting in your own misery, shaming a girl that you’d never met and judging her clothing. You zone back into the row and diligently stitch along the line. 
When you finish the row and decide to take a break, your eyes and ears find their way back to Hongjoong’s little office. 
“What color?” he asks her.
As she’s slipping her coat back on she responds with, “Hot rod red.”
Hot rod red. She wanted the corset to be hot rod red. Hot? Rod? Red? Would you ever have the nerve to wear something so daring? Probably not. You turn back to your unfinished roll, and with an angered vigor, you start stitching again. 
The girl leaves giving Hongjoong yet another tight hug and ruffling his hair, but you’re still sitting on the uncomfortable stool, sewing away a storm. Your neck is in a world of pain, begging for a release, but you’re adamant on finishing.
The shop is quiet, and after taking the girl’s measurements, Hongjoong has been locked away in the office. The sun has since set, and besides Jongho’s occasionally sweet voice conversing with customers or humming along to the quiet radio, the silence in the store leaves you in a focused trance. Just a half-hour before closing, you finish burnishing the final corners of the roll.
When you stand, you want to immediately sit back down and sleep against the rough grain of the lab table, but you place one foot in front of the other and make your way to the register where Hongjoong is now seated.
“Not bad,” he says, with a cocky smile. He looks at the tool roll clutched tightly between your hands. He sees the leather cinching around the stitches but chooses to not tell you your stitches are too tight when he notices how exhausted you look. Your shoulders are slumped, head low, and fingers are red. The smile disappears from his face, and just as you’re grabbing your receipt from his hands, he stops you, rounding the register. 
“Whoa, hold on a second,” he says, taking your hand between his. He looks at the reddened and raw pads of your fingers. “You should’ve worn the protectors, sweetheart. Come here,” he takes your hand and leads you to the sink near the back of the workshop. 
Cool water runs over your fingers, and you sigh, letting your eyes shut momentarily.
“What are you thinking about?” Hongjoong asks, studying your finally relaxed face.
“An exam I have next week,” you lie, opting to omit the truth. And it wasn’t entirely untrue. You did have an exam next week. You should probably print off a practice exam when you get back. 
“God, you need to shut that brain of yours off and get some sleep,” he says, no malice in his voice.
You open your eyes and watch the water splash over your fingers. “Yeah, that’d be a real miracle,” you reply with a scoff. 
“Have trouble sleeping?” His grip on your hand loosens. 
You shrug while curling your fingers under the gentle stream of cool water and respond, “Only since the last semester. Probably just stress. I think I’m good now.” You take your hand from Hongjoong’s and shake off the dripping water.
“Hold on,” Hongjoong bends down and open the drawer underneath the sink to pull out a first-aid kit. He flips the kit open and grabs a tiny tube of cooling gel. “I went through like a dozen of these when I was starting out,” he sighs, squeezing out a little green gel. When you slightly wince, he sighs again and gently spreads the gel over the pads of your fingers saying, “Just wear the protectors next time, okay sweetheart?”
You probably weren’t coming back here. You probably won't run into Hongjoong again. You didn’t think any more leather projects were on your radar, and your friend had already moved on to a different hobby. 
Nonetheless, you watch Hongjoong’s fingers run over yours, spreading the gel, and nod.
*****
You were back.
Now that you were finished with that god-forsaken tool roll you had no tools for, your life should’ve continued on normally. You should’ve gone straight to the library after your classes to get started on a presentation that was due next week. You should’ve. You knew you should’ve, but here you were standing outside the entrance of Outlaw Leather a week later. 
You couldn’t think straight at all for the past week, although that may have been due to the lack of sleep. When you found your feet taking you downtown to Hongjoong’s shop, you tried to justify your need to be there. Now, at the entrance, you still had nothing. 
Taking out your lighter, you run your thumb over the grooved gear and run it down. A flame appears. You let go, and it disappears. With some late-night practice and tutorials, you were eventually able to figure the lighter out. You repeat the process over and over again while internally debating whether or not you want to go in. 
Eventually, Jongho’s peeking head appears through the slightly opening door. “Are you planning on coming in or are you just gonna stand there?” You take a shaky step towards the entrance of the shop and let Jongho hold the door open for you with a small thanks.
During the early evening, the shop was quiet with a few lingering customers. With padded footsteps, you make your way to Hongjoong’s office, no clear indication of why you were gracing him with your presence on a Thursday evening.
He’s sitting at his desk, sketching out a pattern for a project you can’t make out. You stand for a moment, watching his laser-focused eyes following the graphite of pencil. His downturned lips and furrowed brow soften up his rough features, and you can’t help but think how cute he looks when he’s not smirking. 
At the thought, you shake your head and clear your throat to get his attention. 
The chair swivels around, and his signature smirk makes its way to Hongjoong’s face. “Thought you’ve already finished the tool roll?”
“That’s not why I’m here.” Why AM I here?
Twirling the pencil between his pretty fingers, he leans back into the chair. “Oh? Then how can I help you, sweetheart?” 
You say the first thing you could think of, which unfortunately for you, ends up being, “I want a corset.” I do?
“You do?”
“I do.”
His smirk only deepens as he turns around to pull a sheet of paper out of one of his drawers. Attaching to a clipboard, he hands you the sheet and turns around to stack the sketches into a pile. “Fill that out, and we’ll get started.”
You look down at the sheet. A large portion for it is for Hongjoong, requiring specific measurements, but the top portion is for you. 
Thankfully, Hongjoong’s turned around and clearing off his desk when your eyes widened comically at the listed price without any special embellishments. Fuck it. You start filling in your name and address. 
“I’ll take your measurements today and have a guide ready to go by tomorrow. When you come in tomorrow, I’ll double-check my initial measurements and see how they fit, and then I can start. That sound good to you?” He leans against his now cleared desk.
“Yeah,” you tell him, not looking up from the clipboard. Having mercy on your bank account, you decide to forgo any embellishments and hand the clipboard back to Hongjoong. As he’s scanning your information, the cockiness splattered across his features has you believing this is resting face.
“Okay sweetheart, let’s make you a corset.” You nod at him, awaiting his next instructions. He stares at you, the twirling pencil in fingers slowing when you stare back. His smirk deepens. “The sweater’s gotta come off.”
You had clearly not thought this through. You just had a simple bra under your thick knitted sweater, and you didn’t have an extra camisole or tank with you. You tug at one of the stitches on your sleeve, “Can’t you measure over the sweater?”
“No can do, unless you want to pay me to make something that’s not going to fit you,” he shrugs. 
You look outside the door of Hongjoong’s office. Jongho was restocking some inventory, and the few customers inside had their back turned to you while deciding how much of a roll they wanted to cut. At your hesitancy, Hongjoong’s teasing takes a break, and with a gentle voice, he asks, “Do you want me to close the door?”
You nod at his offer, and he steps in front of you to click the door shut. As the door closes, the room opens up, and you’re able to spot an unmade queen size bed in the corner. 
“You sleep here?”
“Sure do,” he says, hands resting on his hips. With a deep breath, you lift the sweater over your head. Hongjoong’s next remark catches in his throat when you’ve pulled off your adorable pink sweater and are left in only with an equally adorable lacey pink bra that wraps snuggly around your chest. He shakes away the interrupting thoughts before saying, “You are standing in my bedroom, after all.”
The conversation distracts you from the chill you feel standing almost naked in an attractive guy’s bedroom. Holding the sweater in your crossed arms, you ask “This is your bedroom?”
“Yeah,” he says with a little laugh. He rounds your body and grabs the tape measure from his desk. You hold your breath when he takes in your covered torso. “The sweater’s gotta go all the way, sweetheart,” he says, rolling his desk chair between the two of you. 
With a pout, you hang your sweater over the back of his chair, and let your arms dangle at your sides. Hongjoong rolls the chair back to its spot and steps closer to you. The fire you had in you retires to the back burner when Hongjoong’s scent fills your nose. He taps your elbows with a quiet, “Arms up,” as he steps even closer to round the measuring tape around your body. 
The tension is palpable, and Hongjoong has dove headfirst into getting accurate measurements in silence. Normally, you wouldn’t mind it, but he smells like a godly combination of spice and leather, you’re embarrassingly horny now, and you’re standing partially naked in his bedroom.
Taking a look around his room, your eyes flicker over a wall of pictures, some polaroid, some printed, some cut out from magazines. On his desk, there’s a half painted shoe next to a fully painted shoe. Many more clothing items are hung near or around his desk with patches cut out from the fabric of the arms and the back. 
When you turn to look back at his bed, you’re surprised at how comfortable it looks. While it's clearly unmade, the plaid gray sheets look clean and homely. The pillows and duvet are well used, and the thought of taking a nap here sounds a little too nice. 
“Your room doesn’t match your aesthetic,” you tell him when the cool plastic of the tape measure makes contact with your hot skin.
You feel Hongjoong’s breath against your neck when he tightens the tape around your waist. “Oh, yeah? What’d you expect my bedroom to look like?”
With a light shrug, you ponder out loud, “I don’t know, I thought it’d be more edgy and less… wholesome.” You nod at the smiling pictures of him on the wall.
Hongjoong quickly follows your trailing eyes and laughingly scoffs again. “So, just because I work with leather, you expect me to sleep on a cow hide or something?” You’re embarrassed at what you’ve implied and shrink in on yourself. “You’re so tense. It’d help you to relax,” Hongjoong laughs with a light poke at your hips. 
The fire finds its way back to you at his relentlessly teasing tone. “I don’t want to relax, I want a corset.”
To measure your hips, he kneels on one knee and looks up at you. “Mhm, and what are you going to do with a corset?”
“Wear it,” you answer down at him, brows furrowed as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
“What, and mess up your cute sweater numbers? I don’t think you would, sweetheart,” he says, standing back up. “Besides, I don’t really think it matches your aesthetic,” he says, throwing your own words back in your face.
It should’ve been off-putting and unattractive, this behavior. You should’ve been rolling your eyes and cringing at his words. But instead, your nipples were hard, and you were praying they weren’t visible through your bra.
“I will wear it,” you say with stuttering confidence. 
“Mhm,” Hongjoons says, writing down the measurements onto the slip you’d filled out earlier. “What color?”
“What?”
“What color do you want it to be?”
The words hot rod red are begging to fly out of your mouth, but if you were going to be paying for a custom corset, you figure it should at least be to your liking. “Can you do pink? Like this kind?” you ask, pinching the fabric of your pastel pink sweater between your fingers.
The corners of Hongjoong’s lips curve into a smirk, and he nods, writing it down on the checklist. “Yeah sweetheart, I can do pink.”
*****
The next day, you walk into Outlaw Leather much later than you were supposed to. Just as Jongho’s turning you away while pointing at the hours posted on the door, Hongjoong emerges from his office. 
“I’ve got this, man. You can clock out.” And with a wave from Jongho, you and Hongjoong remain in the empty store. 
Hongjoong quietly leads you to his bedroom. “You can wait in here, just give me a couple minutes to close up.”
His room looks cozier with the harsh tube light turned off, letting only the golden glow of the few lamps illuminate the space. His bed’s still unmade, but it looks extra comfortable in soft yellow light.
On his desk sits a thick strip of black-dyed leather. Taking it in your hands, you feel the rigid strip fold under your touch and run your fingers along the textured front. It felt cool and rough, but you stroke the strip between your fingers nonetheless. 
“That’s not for you, sweetheart. Although, I’d be happy to make you one,” Hongjoong’s voice startles you, and you turn to see him in the doorway. His eyes flick down to your hips, and you gently place the belt back on his desk, warmth pooling in your stomach.
“Sorry,” you wipe your hands on your pants and look at the pink leather in his hands. 
The tint on the leather is a delicate pastel, just like you asked, and the cut of the hide has your breath hitched. The stitching in the corset is delicate, but striking. Even in your awe, you were confused. The corset looked finished, polished and ready to wear; even if there were adjustments to be made, you were sure there wasn’t much he could adjust now. 
Nonetheless, you grab the edges of your sweater. When you slip it off over your head and hang it on his chair, you miss the disappointed look that fleetingly flickers across Hongjoong’s face. You’d worn a camisole underneath your sweater today to save yourself from the embarrassing predicament you’d put yourself in only yesterday. 
Moving behind you, he orders, “Arms up.” Hongjoong wraps the corset around your waist and pulls you flush to him, closing it. You gasp in a surprised breath when your back collides with his hardened chest. “So, so tense, sweetheart,” he breathes into your neck, and you can hear his smile. Goosebumps rise up your back, and you don’t respond to him, keeping your breath held. “Is this too tight?”
“No,” you swallow the collecting saliva in your mouth. Hongjoong backs away, slipping the corset away from your torso.
“Alright,” he moves around your still body, laying the corset next to the black belt and adds, “I’ll condition the leather, and it’ll be ready for you to pick up tomorrow.”
Well, that was fast. “Thanks,” you send him a short smile and reach to grab your sweater off the back of his desk chair, hiding your disheartedness. You wanted to stay longer and do something, you didn’t want to go home. You wanted to stay in this room and not think about your assignments or exams. Over your shoulder, you look back at Hongjoong’s bed.
“You know, I read an interesting article the other day,” Hongjoong’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.
“Didn’t peg you as a reader,” you say, but when you catch Hongjoong looking stupidly sexy rolling his big, beautiful eyes at you, you add, “What’d you read?”
His hips lean back into his desk, arms crossed over his chest, shrugging, “It wasn’t much, but it did say something about how beneficial orgasms are at helping insomniacs.”
You freeze, and your eyes widen. Of course, you’d already known this. After the first couple of sleepless nights passed, you did extensive research trying to find the best remedy for yourself. 
Relax your body. This can be done through a variety of different methods. To most effectively and efficiently relax your muscles, let your body experience somatic arousal.
You’d shut your laptop and settled on trying aromatherapy and meditation instead. When days turned into weeks, you’d gotten desperate and brought a tiny vibrator which you carried around. Just in case.
“Yeah, I know,” you say with a sigh. The tiredness that ran through your body had dissipated the shame you’d usually felt, and you reach into your bag to pull out the hot pink vibrator and dangle it in front of Hongjoong’s face, “But if this hasn’t been able to get the job done, I don’t think anything will.”
For a moment, the shock is vividly apparent on Hongjoong’s face, and the shame in your body is ready to resurface with a vengeance. But just as quickly as it comes, it disappears when Hongjoong’s face twists into a smirk. The same cocky smirk you’d been using to get off in these past few weeks. 
The smirk turns into a mocking pout as Hongjoong snatches the vibrator from your hands. “You poor thing. How many orgasms do you give yourself every night?”
The warmth in your cheeks spreads down your neck and pools in your stomach. “Uhm, I— just one, usually,” you say, looking down at the floor of Hongjoong’s room. 
You hear him scoff and look up to see his haughty attitude return. “You think one orgasm’s going to put you to sleep?”
“Yes?” you respond incredulously. The mixture of emotions swirling through your mind were doing a great job at confusing you, but never did you think you’d stand in Hongjoong’s room while he judges how you choose to cure your insomnia.
“One orgasm is hardly going to do anything, let alone relax you enough to sleep,” Hongjoong says, polished nails thumbing through the settings on the vibrator. “In fact,” he says, stepping much too close to you, “I’m willing to bet you’ve never even experimented with the higher settings.” His soft breath fans across your face, and you look away from him, focusing your attention on anything else in his room.
You hear a chuckle rumbling from his chest as your silence proves him right. His thumb gently grabs your chin, and he redirects your eyes back to him, asking, “Would you like to?”
You dryly swallow and stare at him. Fuck it all to hell. You eagerly lean into his lips and kiss him fervently. When you feel his stupid, cocky smile against your lips, you press harder and let your teeth teasingly sink down on his lower lip. Accomplished pride blooms in your chest as he gasps and pulls away.
“You know the color system?” When you nod, he pulls you closer, “Yes or no?”
“Yes,” you breathlessly respond, and his lips are back on yours. Hongjoong roughly grabs at your hips, slipping his hands under the thin pink camisole. He pushes you towards his bed, and when your knees collide with its frame, he pulls away again.
“Sit,” he orders, and you follow. With your hands on either side of you, you look up at Hongjoong from his plaid gray sheets excited, enamored, and eager. Hongjoong releases a shuddered breath at your pliant eyes before he kneels in front of you.
Today was exceptionally cold, and you’d opted to overgo your pink skirts in favor of a pair of thick pants. Hongjoong’s hands bunch at the material to tug it down your legs, and you back up further onto his bed and raise your hips in effort to help him. Once they're off, he tosses them carelessly onto his floor and pushes you to lay back against his pillows. 
Other than your pants, Hongjoong made no effort to remove any of your other clothing, letting his lips slot against yours once again. His hand finds the warm flesh of the skin between your thighs, and with the other he caresses your jaw. Unable to keep away, you reach for his neck and feel the dangling silver of his earrings tickle your fingers.
“You’ll be good for me, won’t you sweetheart?” His request is soft and whispered against your lips, but at your delayed response, his roughened hand kneads your thigh harder. “Won’t you?”
You pull away from him to answer, “I will,” and try to chase after him, but much to your disappointment, Hongjoong leans back.
A low buzz comes from between his fingers, and you realize your forgotten vibrator was still in Hongjoong’s hands. At the noise, you feel yourself getting wetter, your underwear now uncomfortably clinging to your skin. 
Squirming to adjust yourself, your thighs close around Hongjoong’s hands. He smiles at the action and takes his hand away from your jaw. “Hands.”
Confused, you stop your squirming and bring your hands between your bodies. His hands wrap around your wrists, pushing them above your head and pressing the vibrator over your underwear in one quick motion. 
A surprised whimper escapes your lips. The tight grip of his hands feels so good around your wrists, but the stimulation from the vibrator felt torturously low over your cotton panties.
“Feels good, right sweetheart?” He wiggles the vibrator over your clit and laughs lowly when you roll your hips to meet his movements. “This is what you’re used to, isn’t it? Level 1?” It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build even if the buzz of the vibrator was dull. 
Usually, this process would take you much more time. It’d have to be well into the night, your roommate fallen asleep long ago. The work at your desk should no longer have the capacity to take any more of your attention, and sleep should be the last thing on your mind. You had a playlist, a hot celebrity’s shirtless picture, and most importantly, privacy. 
But the woody smell of Hongjoong’s cologne, his calloused hands at your thighs, and his cocky self-satisfied smile had you close in no time.
“Please, please,” you ask, rolling your hips. Hongjoong presses against you and holds the vibrator down, and you whimper pathetically.
“Gonna cum already?” Hongjoong asks, devilishly smiling down at you. “That’s okay, sweetheart. Go ahead and cum for me.”
And you do. With your eyes closed, you let your head fall back against Hongjoong’s pillows and slightly tug your hands in his grip. Your orgasm comes quick and hard, the buzz finally falling away from your clit. 
Catching your breath, you open your eyes to look up at Hongjoong zeroed in on the sight between your legs. Unfortunately for you, you now feel more awake than you’ve ever felt and letting the reality of the situation sink in, shut your legs. 
Hongjoong doesn’t let your actions faze him, and instead, he moves to rub the skin of your hips. “Felt good?” You nod, but before you could let your overthinking thoughts interrupt him, he adds, “I bet it did, but look at you. There’s a mess in your cute panties, and I can hear your heart beating from here. I’d barely call this relaxed, barely enough to get you sleeping.”
“I—” You knew that, but you truly thought one would do the trick. Instead, your hips felt stiff, and the stickiness in your underwear was begging to be taken care of. I want more, I NEED more. Collecting your rambled thoughts, you look back at Hongjoong who’s patiently waiting for your explanation. “Can you help me, please?”
An evil smile overtakes Hongjoong’s face and makes you clench disappointedly around nothing. “Of course I can help you, sweetheart.” You can feel yourself gushing, breathing out a sigh of relief when Hongjoong moves down to take off your underwear. 
“What a pretty mess you’ve made,” he says, hungrily looking at the result of your first orgasm. Your arousal leaked through your underwear, and you just know you’ve stained his sheets. Your cheeks warm with embarrassment, but you still whine, wanting the panties out of the way.
Catching your intentions, Hongjoong simply laughs, grabbing the vibrator once more. It comes to life again, this time loud and more aggressively. Level 2.
Level 2 was uncharted territory. The night you’d gotten the vibrator, you’d turned on each setting while twirling the device between your fingers. 1 was fine, it felt low and steady. But having 2 turned on for only a minute numbed the pads of your fingers. You’d avoided Level 3 out of sheer fear, never even letting the setting touch your fingertips. 
Hongjoong doesn’t take your underwear off, no matter how much you squirm. Instead, he rubs your slick through your panties and wet his lips as he lets the vibrator rest against your thighs.
Slowly, he trails the pink bullet closer and closer to your pussy. Frustrated at his pace, you raise your hips in search of the vibrator. “You said you’d be good for me, sweetheart,” he teases. When he asks for your hands again, you give them away at record speed, only prompting more teasing. “I told you I’d help you, and I will,” he says, pinning your arms tightly above you.
The smile decorating Hongjoong’s face is dangerous, and then you realize you would do anything he asked you to. Here, in his room, on his bed, you were ready to become what you avoided so well for the past four years.
At your hitching breath, he nestles the vibrator onto your clit, the stimulation making your head spin. Letting him take away your arms felt good, too good, and when you tug against them, his hold only tightens, making you gush. 
“How’s Level 2 feel, hmm?” Hongjoong asks, kissing up your neck. It felt good; you know it did. It was stronger and made your leak with need, but the presence of your underwear was too overpowering.
With a newfound devotion and growing distaste of your wrecked panties, you tug again. “Joongie, please,” you whine. “Take them off,” you plead. 
As the nickname falls out of your lips, Hongjoong’s eyes darkly narrow and his smile falls away. Again, much to your disappointment, he lets your arms go. Moving the vibrator in slow, calculated circles, he takes his free and hooks his thumb under the waistband. 
“You come into my store, looking all pretty in pink, like a fucking angel, and you know what it makes me want to do, sweetheart?” You shake your head, and at the motion, the humming of the vibrator falls away from your clit. You feel a swift slap against your thighs. “Do you know what it makes me want to do?” Hongjoong enunciates for you, placing the vibrator back onto your clit, pressing down harder this time.
“No, I don’t know,” you breathlessly respond. Your thigh feels like it’s on fire, and you know your underwear is beyond saving. The stinging from the slap only builds your orgasm faster when Hongjoong speaks again. 
“It makes me want to ruin you,” he says, letting the band of underwear snap against your hips. “Will you let me ruin you?”
You’d think you would have learned your lesson by now, but you nod yet again and feel another slap against your other thigh. “Yes, I will! Please ruin me, please!” you beg as your second orgasm crashes down on you. 
Hongjoong turns the vibrator back down to Level 1 and leans in to give you a deep kiss. Your breath feels like it’s been knocked out of your lungs, and you let Hongjoong explore, letting him take more and more of your air as you ride out your high on his sheets.
You let your hands tangle in his hair, and you pull him closer. Bringing your knees towards your body, your knee grazing against Hongjoong’s hardened length, prompting you to pull away. 
“You okay, pretty girl?” You barely have time to register the new pet name before Hongjoong’s peeling your ruined underwear off. When the cool air of his room finally touches your exposed, wet pussy, you shiver before it’s quickly replaced with a moan when the vibrator makes contact with your clit again.
“Yes, but I…” you start, eyeing the unfinished belt on his desk before flicking your eyes back to him, “I want more.”
“Fuck,” he laughs following your line of sight. “Is that what you need, baby? You need someone to take your control from you? Be mean to you? Tie you up?”
You nod desperately. You feel like you’ve never wanted anything more, just letting Hongjoong give while all you do is take.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he gives you a quick kiss. Making quick of your response, Hongjoong gets off the bed and laughs at your poor state as he takes the vibrator with him. Taking the black belt from his desk, he hovers momentarily over your form, taking in your blown out eyes and panting chest. Your hardened nipples poke over your camisole, and there’s a glittery sheen of sweat across your collar. 
Hongjoong’s cock strains against the material of his pants at the sight of you so fucked out for him, but he quickly files the feeling away for later. Gliding his fingers between yours, he pushes them up to the wooden rails of his headboard, wrapping the leather of the belt and securing it around your wrists.
The leather feels cool on your steaming skin, and when Hongjoong has you tied up, you feel oddly relaxed, glad your hands are restrained, leaving yourself for Hongjoong to give you as much as he thought you needed. 
He leaves a soft kiss on the sides of your arms and trails downwards. Over your camisole, he places open kisses on your nipples, and you arch off the mattress, hungry for more. You wanted Hongjoong everywhere on your body, all at once. 
As the vibrator is back on your bare pussy, he bites at your nipple, his tongue wetting the thin material. Your eyes shut tightly in ecstasy, and incoherent words are tumbling out of your mouth, begging Hongjoong to not stop when he moves to give the other nipple the same treatment.
His deep laughter reverberates in your chest. “I don’t plan on it. More?” 
“Yes, please,” you ask through whining gasps, and he listens, trailing his kisses up to your neck. Sneakily, he ups the level on the vibrator, and the sudden, intense pleasure of Level 2 on your overwhelmed clit feels exhilarating, making your eyes cloud over with dark lust. 
“You’re such a good girl, asking so sweetly to be ruined,” Hongjoong says into your neck, biting little marks into the skin. “Poor thing, hmm? You just want a good night’s rest, right sweetheart?” 
“Yes,” you sob, that’s all you wanted. You thrash against the bed, feeling insatiable. You hear the switch of the vibrator click again. Level 3, and it’s brutal. The vibration is unforgiving in its strong rhythm, and the way Hongjoong is pressing it just right onto your clit doesn’t help.
“Just want someone to shut that brain of yours off, fuck you dumb?”
Yes! You want to cry out as he plucks the thoughts from your mumbled mess, but the words never find themself and you choose to cry out pitifully instead. When the first tear rolls down your hot cheeks, Hongjoong’s dick painfully hardens in his pants. 
Behind the haze of your eyes, Hongjoong finds your thoughts leaving as your orgasm builds. He wants it all gone, all the exams and assignments melting away into nothing. Eager to please, he stuffs two fingers deep into your wet walls, and all it takes is a small, gentle curl of his fingers grazing against your sweet spot and you’re cumming with a soft cry.
The vibrator’s taken away from you again, but his fingers remain in your pulsing pussy, still curled deliciously. The phantom buzz of the ruthless Level 3 is still present on your clit, and you can feel another orgasm building from nothing. The sensitivity feels like a well-intentioned punishment, but your brain feels fried from the onslaught, ready to retire for the night.
Hongjoong splays his hand over your thigh, pushing them out of the way and takes in the mess he’s left at your weeping pussy. A wet patch of your dripping arousal and your pretty, swollen cunt throbbing around his fingers has him swallowing down his desire. “Okay, sweetheart, just one more. Can you take one more for me? I’ll put you to sleep, I promise.”
“Joongie, I can’t anymore,” you tell him through sobs, tugging at the belt. White spots are dancing in your vision, and you seriously think you’re going to pass out. Not that you would mind.
“Don’t you wanna sleep, pretty girl? I thought you wanted my help,” Hongjoong mocks from between your legs, cruelly curling his fingers upwards. At your desperately broken cries, with a softer voice, he travels up to kiss the shell of your ear, whispering, “Color?”
His gentle voice grounds you enough to let you respond, “Green.” You’re sure whatever else you’re saying makes no sense, but your legs part anyway, wanting everything Hongjoong wants to give you. 
“That’s my good girl,” he sends you a sweet kiss on your furrowed brows before he scissors both of his fingers inside of you, pumping and curling steadily. The pleasure has you releasing a stream of steady tears, slurred requests echoing in his room. 
His fingers are gone too soon, but feeling his hand at your jaw, you open your eyes. His fingers are dripping with your slick, and with wide eyes, you shamelessly lean forward and take them in your mouth, tasting yourself. Your tongue swirls around tasting the effects of Hongjoong’s efforts. 
“Fuck, you’re so precious, sweetheart,” you catch him saying as he takes his fingers out and wraps his hand around your throat. Your heartbeat quickens, but Hongjoong doesn’t apply any pressure, simply letting his hand rest around your throat as he pulls you in for a kiss. 
As his tongue explores once more, you roll your hips up, grazing his cock. You’re not sure how he’s able to stay so composed, not wanting or expecting reciprocation, but you grind upwards once more in hopes to relieve him a little. 
The pressure of hand just slightly increases, and he releases a deep, guttural groan, pulling away from you and pinning your hips into the bed, “Not tonight, pretty girl.” He leans back and lets his teeth graze his previously left marks, sucking them darker.
Trailing his hands up your body, he squeezes at your breasts under your camisole and nips at your exposed tummy. You’re grateful for him giving you time to recover from your back to back orgasms, but in this time, you feel your body’s pleas begging for sleep. Your eyelids were drooped, the exhaustion of everything weighing down on you. Your lethargic arms tugged at the belt, wanting to run your hands through Hongjoong’s hair. 
At your frustrated whine, Hongjoong looks up from your tummy to find your lips folding into a cute pout, and he sends you a sweet smile. Moving back, he kneels in front of your tired body. With his cool hands, he grabs the underside of your thighs and pushes them back, head dropping down to your delectable pussy. Shooting you a smug grin, his tongue attacks, sucking away at your far too sensitive clit.
Feeling your thighs tense in his hold at the pleasure, Hongjoong moans into your cunt, sending delicious vibrations up your body. His warm tongue flicks back and forth, spelling out something into your pussy. In your unfocused trance, you try to make out the letters and let out a hiccuped cry when you realize what it is. S, W, E, E, T, H, E, A, R, T. 
He takes a break to suck at your clit, nipping and licking away. And it feels heavenly, different than the vibrator, better than the vibrator. You find yourself thinking you might never need it again when Hongjoong groans against you as you roll your hips into his face. You don’t think you’d ever feel this good, afraid of becoming addicted to the drug-like euphoria. 
Your last orgasm comes quickly, Hongjoong’s tongue making quick work with your overstimulated clit. You come with a strained cry, trying to close your trembling legs around Hongjoong’s head. 
You let all your thoughts and worries fall away, jerking against Hongjoong’s bed, rutting yourself onto his tongue. Your sharp whines and tiny cries do nothing more than make Hongjoong irresistibly want you, but flicking his eyes up to your obliterated form, he falls back, choosing to caress your shaky legs through your orgasm. 
You’re not sure how, but you feel weightless and heavy at the same time. Your eyelids refuse to open, and on your exhausted limbs, you can feel Hongjoong’s warm breath peppering kisses onto the heated skin as he undoes the belt around your wrists. You feel him gently place tender kisses to each wrist, whispering soft words of praise, before sleep overtakes your body. 
Sometime later, your heavy eyelids blink open when you feel a warm rag against your thighs. “You can sleep, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you,” Hongjoong’s deep voice says, lulling you back into a well-deserved deep sleep.
Author's Note II: What'd you guys think? There's actually a nearly completed scene I wrote for this fic that just didn't fit into the actual story, but I'm thinking of releasing it as a bonus sometime in the next few weeks (wink wonk) so definitely look forward to that :) Thank you so much for reading, much love <3
taglist: @arafilez
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erwinsvow · 11 days
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“stay away from her, rafe,” his sister’s voice comes from behind.
rafe resists an eye-roll, staring out across the pool of tannyhill and in particular, you, his sister’s friend, sprawled out on a beach chair with your nose in a book. he’s seen you before, around the house, usually unable to meet his eyes and flushing at anything he’d say. he didn’t pay much attention before, since you were almost painfully shy and skittish to the touch— definitely too shy for him—but he’s starting to change his mind. 
he watches you lower the book to your chest, covering your flimsy blue bikini and looking up to see where the noise is coming from. you catch rafe’s eye for one second, taking in the fact that he’s staring right at you, and you panic, bringing the book right back up to hide your face. he smirks, until sarah speaks again.
“seriously rafe. don’t even look at her. she’s way too nice for you, anyways.”
“shut up. not doing anythin’, and i don’t have to listen to-”
“sarah!” ward’s voice comes from inside. she walks back inside, telling rafe to leave you alone one last time. he stays out there, minutes passing by quickly, until he notices you glancing up at him again. you walk over in his direction, and even in your demeanor he can tell sarah was right, that you’re so shy you can’t even find the nerve to approach him, and you hover in front of the backdoor, trying to peer inside to see where your friend went.
“need somethin'?” rafe asks you, and he notices your entire body tense up. you turn around slowly to face him, but you stare at your feet while you speak.
“um, i’m sorry. sarah was gonna bring me home.” you look up quickly and then look back down. he thinks it’s cute, though he’s sure he once thought it was annoying. he wonders if you’re like this with everyone. “it’s almost curfew so i should-”
“well sarah’s occupied.” you meet his eyes finally, your own wide like coins, taking in his words. “get your stuff, kid. i’ll take you home.” 
“oh, you don’t have to-”
“get your ass in the car. come on. i don’t have all day.” you comply quickly, gathering your book and bag, not even looking for sarah again, which he likes a little too much. you climb into the passenger seat of his truck, but keep your gaze locked out the window. it’s not until he pulls infront of your house that you speak.
“thanks, rafe,” you mumble quietly. he turns to look at you, but you’re sniffling with quivering shoulders.
“you cryin’?” he’s actually confused—unsure of what he did, if anything. he thought driving you home was something that would make you happy.
“no,” you get out, in between a sob. “i didn’t mean to bother you, or m-make you mad.”
“mad?” he asks, staring at you curiously. rafe thinks maybe he should have expected this, or seen this coming. gears start turning and clicking into place, the way you play with the hem of your dress and keep your head down. you were more messed up than he thought. he chooses his next few words carefully. “and what did i say…to make you think that? hm?”
“y-you said you didn’t have all day. and you sounded upset.” rafe tries to think back, but he hasn’t felt upset with you at any point in the last hour. he exhales, laughing a little. he thinks he could have a lot of fun with you, with the way you behave around him. the very thought of you talking to some other guy like this makes his blood boil. 
“well, m’not. not mad or anythin’ else, okay?” you look back up through watery eyes.
“really?”
“no, kid. not at all. you walk around thinkin’ everyone’s mad at you all the time?���
“i-i don’t know. i guess. you just scared me.”
“well i’ll try not to. get inside. i’ll see you tomorrow.” you climb out, picking up your bag and adjusting your dress. before you turn to head back, you peer in through the open window at rafe. your gaze darts around, finally settling on him.
“tomorrow?”
“yeah, tomorrow. i’ll swing by. g’night, kid.”
“goodnight, rafe.”
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