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moinsbienquekaworu · 1 year

Note

i am about to sleep but i wanted to ask what your favorite poem is? will you tell me about it? what you love and why it’s your favorite? do you like any of its translations? i love you. i hope you have a good day 🥰

(⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠) beloved thank you for the question!!! As per usual I am incapable of choosing just one of a thing, so I actually have two favourite poems, one in french and one in english (because poetry in french and in english can be pretty different since the codes and models and expectations aren't always the same!) They're the two poems I can recite and know by heart haha.

The english one is Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, by Robert Frost. I really like the last stanza (like everyone else) but also just the way when you say it out loud it does feel like a quiet moment watching the snow fall all on your own. I found it recently accompanying a fic (two different fics actually but the second time I knew it) and it entranced me!

The french one is Chanson d'Automne by Paul Verlaine. It's a classic in France, some of its lines were used as a signal for saboteurs during WWII and there's an urban legend it was used to signal the landing in Normandy. I personally had to learn it by heart in primary school (I think in 4th grade?) and it just stuck with me. I like it for the way it feels to me and the images it evokes, but also just because it was the first poem I learnt by heart and being able to recite a poem is an easily overlooked comfort of life (insert those posts and quotes about art being vital and what we need to be able to turn to in dark or light times)

Other poems I like include Remords Posthume and L'Albatros by Baudelaire, Le Dormeur du Val by Rimbaud, Le Déserteur and Je Voudrais Pas Crever by Boris Vian, Funeral Blues by W. H. Auden, and Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath. The french ones I studied in school, and I found the english ones on my own (I feel like I found both in Johnlock fics?? but I might be wrong about Funeral Blues, it's been years) I included english translations where I could for the french ones, and they're not necessarily incredible but they should let you get the vibe. If one of them speaks to you I can try to explain what makes it tick! My personal anecdotes with those because that's half the fun: we had to analyse Remords Posthume for literature class with my best friend K, and what's really cool about it is the last line, "et le ver rongera ta peau comme un remords", because it plays on the homonymy between ver, the worm, and vers, the line of poetry, meaning she will be devoured physically by worms since she'll be dead but also that his verses, his poem, will make her feel remorse; I like the albatross analogy because I was a weird kid who felt comfortable with books but not with my peers; Le Dormeur du Val is extremely extremely sad and beautiful and I think Rimbaud was a very interesting guy; technically Le Déserteur is a song and not a poem but I first saw the text without knowing that so for me it's a poem forever now, and I love talking about the original versus final ending thing; the YouTube channel Le Mock did an excellent reading of Je Voudrais Pas Crever and it's a jewel, I love it so so much; Funeral Blues was the first english poem I ever liked (or maybe read honestly) and I wrote it on the cover of my 10th grade english notebook (because the teacher was great and said that if we forgot to do our homework he wouldn't punish us if we could recite a poem for him, so I wrote it down and tried to learn if by heart in case I forgot my homework); and Mad Girl's Love Song features in a fic I read a few weeks ago and I just think it's neat. I probably forgot some but those are the ones I remember right now (edit: ADA LIMÓN!! I FORGOT ADA LIMÓN!!! Accident Report in the Tall, Tall Weeds (the I can't help it, I love the way men love poem) hit me in the chest the first time I read it and it's so so good)

My favourites (and most of the poems I like actually) are pretty popular because I'm not really into poetry that much on my own. I get attached to poems once I see how they work inside and analyse them, but I don't sit down and decide to analyse some poem from Les Fleurs du Mal at random because it feels like homework, and I don't go looking for poetry because I'm very hit or miss (I get bored at long winded descriptions in those 4-part 7-pages poems and a lot of things trip up my instinctual Pretentiousness Radar™, and while it's not necessarily accurate it does turn me off poems). So I just stay with the basics, but that's fine, because the comfort of carrying poems with you is there whatever the poem is y'know?

Also question, do americans learn poetry in school? I assume you must analyse some in literature class, but I don't know if you learn poems when you're young. I know we also do lots of La Fontaine's Fables, though I personally never did, but learning poems to recite in primary school is a thing almost everyone has done here I think.

#i just like. literature and literary analysis. when it's like poetry and it rhymes. when there's literary devices for a reason.#i'm an english lit major for a reason!!!#thank you for reminding me of what i like in literature my classes are so boring it's hard to remember sometimes #also the sheer joy of explaining poems i like to people who don't know them #like i could not explain le dormeur du val to a french person because they already know it and associate it with boring literature classes #but you don't! because you weren't forced to spend hours of lit classes on it in 8th grade whether you liked it or not!#it's like - yes they're well known poems but they're popular for a reason y'know #oh an honorary poems are some songs. like mistki's songs? that's poetry. that's just poetry!#it's like le déserteur - it's a song but isn't it poetry too? when the text follows the same rules? when you can analyse it the same?#actually all because of you feels like a poem too. if you know what i mean?#and dans ma ville on traîne by orelsan reminds me of a primary school poem - l'école by jacques charpentreau #it's all poetry and it's so cool and i love it #OH and racine's plays. they're not Poetry poetry - they're plays - but they rhyme in their entirety and follow a specific pattern #that's poetry!! that's just poetry!!!!#if you want me to get phèdre out and read you some racine i would be delighted to it's so nice to listen to #there's a rhythm to it and it becomes much easier to understand once you say it out loud - like shakespeare #anyway. LITERATURE.#wow i have a ramble tag now #wow i have an asks tag now #i love the way men love indeed

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inblurtub · 12 days

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lovingly siesta | a smau | part 2

pairing(s): youngest sister leclerc!reader x f1 grid (platonic), youngest sister leclerc!reader x lando norris

warnings: no face claim, age gap (25-18), protective charles leclerc, super softie pie lando, ooc

need part 1? click here!

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc and 25.485 others

yourusername while i were pluto-ing 🌌 midterms hit harder than i thought

view all 2.395 comments

user24 i have said it once and i’ll say it again, i missed her being little so much🥹 she is now a college girl with a boyfriend

user26 sis i think we go to the same uni—

arthur_leclerc too bad you don’t go for racing

yourusername every family need a smart ass girl and that is me arthur_leclerc just because you are the only princesse in the family😨 yourusername fair enough

user22 so nobody gonna bring up the 2nd picture?? i’m hungry for context😭

user24 yeh not even charles?? must be my delusion🤯

user29 listen to me, if he wasn’t lando then he couldn’t be anyone else

yourusername posted on their stories

↳ charles_leclerc ma princesse, i wish you all the best with lando, but if he ever hurt you don’t hesitate to tell your brothers. we’re gonna beat his ass real quick

yourusername i know sharl🫶🏻 i love ur three so much that i can’t say enough💓

↳ landonorris WE DID IT

yourusername YES WE DID IT landonorris now i can take you out and treat you meals any time i want😈

↳ arthur_leclerc use protection🙂

yourusername DO NOT spill shit out like that with your verified account🙂 but i will if we really do it

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 194.326 others

yourusername my fighter🫶🏻 what a wonderful race that was, start to think that i’m your lucky charm! tagged landonorris

comments on this post have been limited

carlossainz55 join the dinner will you😉

yourusername only if @/charles_leclerc allow charles_leclerc as if i have the choice to refuse😒

oscarpiastri he is giggling and kicking feets right now

landnorris osc u are not suppose to expose me! yourusername @/landonorris we have a deal, you can’t interfere

landonorris i love that i look damp through your camera

yourusername what a cutie you are landonorris yes i am🤭

landonorris

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 467.289 others

landonorris just helped her in a song that she wrote about her sweetheart

comments on this post have been limited

landonorris minions and none-minions people, be ready for “not-so-single era”

charles_leclerc she wrote a whole song about you what a privilege

landonorris i’m the only one, she got 3 of you guys

yourusername and a bside track exclusively for u🫶🏻

landonorris WHAT BABY DON’T DROP THINGS SO CASUAL😭 I WONT BE READY yourusername :) gotta keep it hush just for the right moment

mclaren can she come to the garage next weekend😉

yourusername nuh uh im still a ferrari girl you know

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lewisvinga · 5 months

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karma | pierre gasly x fem! reader

summary; after changing the lyrics to a song during a concert, fans speculate who it might be until a shocking hard launch

fc; yunjin huh

warnings; none (?)

notes; requested !

masterlist !

liked by yourbestfriend, username, and 1,849,278 others!

yourusername: thank u sm nyc 🍎🩷such an overwhelming luv n support from my fans, ily all❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

username: BEST SINGER ITW

username: my goat

username: the orange hair 😍

username: mother is mothering

username: no one talking abt the lyric change in karma?????

yourbestfriend: when ur bff is the most talented singer >>>>

yourusername: when ur bff is the most talented designer >>>

username: 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰😍

username: the orange hair n the green outfit, she ate

username: ok but who is the guy in the race car, y/n?? WHOOOOO

liked by pierregasly, yourbestfriend, and 2,002,0297 others!

yourusername: me n my vroom vroom boy❤️‍🩹🏎️

tagged; pierregasly

pierregasly: ma jolie fille🥰 [my pretty girl] liked by yourusername !

pierregasly: i love you❤️

yourusername: n i love you💗💗

username: PIERRE GASLY???

username: omg it was pierre?????

username: imagine being pierre and going on twitter to see ppl saying that your gf is dating one of your closest friends 😭😭😭

username: i am not complaing tbh

username: we lost her to a vroom vroom boy 🕊️🕊️🕊️

yourbestfriend: can your vroom vroom boy hook me up w paddock passes????

yourusername: cmere vroom vroom boy pierregasly

pierregasly: i got you 🫡

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 1,504,038 others!

pierregasly: karma is my cute orange haired girlfriend🍊🧡

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: BF🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

yourusername: i luv u my vroom vroom boy 😣💗

pierregasly: & i luv u my orange girl 🧡

yourusername: yo we’re cute

pierregasly: duh💅

username: i’m living for this

username: now that i’m thinking abt it, they really are perfect for each other😣

username: my fave singer n fave driver, I AM WINNING🙏🙏

charles_leclerc: now people know that i am NOT dating y/n

pierregasly: yes you’re not.

yourusername: my french bff🤞🤞

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one scenarios #f1 scenario #formula one social media au #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly smau #pierre gasly social media au #pierre gasly scenarios

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wondernus · 4 days

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— WHY HIM?

SYNOPSIS: armed and ready at 4am, you approach your locked front door to confront the group of loud strangers trying to break into your apartment

PAIRING: fiancé!lsm x reader

GENRE: fluff, humor

TAGS: food mention, inebriated characters, post-bachelor party, brother!hvc

WC: 1.75k

MESSAGE FROM NU: hii long time no see :3 posting a dk oneshot to let you know i'm procrastinating on my final paper draft by drafting a hefty dk soulmate au i've been thinking about writing for a while. also dedicating this fic to @wongyuseokie the la to my ma

A perfectly peaceful Friday night goes to waste when you shoot up from your bed in a panicked state. It’s not the usual cat wanting to leave your room at five in the morning kind of scratching sound that lures you to open your bedroom door in a half-awake state. Instead, shuffling sounds out front and an insistent metal-to-metal sound, which you can only infer as someone trying to break into your apartment, cause you to become extremely vigilant.

Seokmin isn’t picking up his phone, but you keep his line ringing just in case he does. Doubtful that a pair of scissors can do as much damage to the head as a giant wok can, you head into the kitchen to pick up that giant carbon steel wok that you can never seem to fit into any of your kitchen drawers as a form of physical backup before you quietly approach your front door.

However, the fear that once overwhelms your body soon turns into a sigh of exasperation before you can even position yourself to look through the tiny peephole. You can clearly hear the familiar voices on the other side of the door and match each voice to its respective owner. Feeling relieved, you drop the wok on the cubby by the door and hang up the phone.

“Look, I opened it,” the man who was trying to open your door slurs with a dopey smile on his face. He doesn’t seem like he’s talking to anybody in particular. “I’m a fucking genius.”

Almost immediately after that statement, he falls forward and faceplants a couple centimeters away from your indoor slippers. Slumped to the side of his face is his hand that holds a small metal keychain between the thumb and index fingers. It’s a souvenir nameplate keychain from a family trip to another country a few years back whose design reads “Vernon” in all caps. You realize that the man near your feet didn’t even try opening the door with the key.

The actual owner of the set of keys lies on his left side while his entire body is propped against the bushes in front of your place. His legs are still surprisingly in a crisscross position, but you think it’s because his jeans restrict him from being able to unravel from the position. And when you see earbuds plugged up your brother’s nose while his mouth acts as some sort of impromptu speaker for whatever song he has playing through his earbuds, you consider the option of leaving him outside for the rest of the night. What’s even worse is that Joshua, although a little out of it, sits next to his younger friend and bobs his head to the music while lethargically reaching into his brown paper bag on his lap to grab some greasy fries. You think your brother is asleep, but you don’t know if him becoming a speaker happened pre-knocking out or post-knocking out.

“Do I want to ask why you guys are trying to break into my place at 4 a.m. in the morning or should I be concerned that only half of you guys are here?”

“Actually.” the man underneath you groans while he slowly gathers enough strength to sit upright. There is a nasty red mark on the side of his face that he doesn’t seem to know of and mind. “Saying ‘4 a.m. in the morning’ is redundant.” He points at nobody in particular with the same hand holding your brother’s set of keys and stares past your calves.

“Since you’re sober enough to be smart with me, I need your help dragging Vern and Shua into my place before the neighbors wake up and call neighborhood watch,” you gruff before stepping out of your house slippers into the sandals you keep near the door.

It turns out that there are more people scattered about the front of your place.

There is a car parallel parked against the sidewalk with what looks like two people in the car. Someone picks themself off the small grassy lawn on the other side of the bushes and trudges towards the car while pinching their temple.

Wonwoo nods at you when he passes by looking completely sober. Yet, for somebody who usually looks well-put-together, his hair is a mess while the top few buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned…no, missing. What remains are the threads that once attached the buttons to the dress shirt. You notice that he grips three different neckties in his hand but still his loose around his neck. Nevertheless, Wonwoo kicks off his dress shoes, steps over Jeonghan, enters your front door without saying a word, and knocks out on your sofa before his legs can make it onto the cushions.

You turn back to your brother. Joshua wipes his fingers on his pants before he squats on the other side of Vernon to help him up.

“Up,” you tell the both of them.

“I can’t breathe,” Vernon whines while allowing the both of you to help him stand. “My nose isn’t working.”

You sigh and yank the wired earbuds by their cords and out of his nostrils and let them drop before the older man helps his friend into your place. Bending down to grab the bag of fries that Joshua forgot, you see a disturbing amount of hair poking through the crevices of the leafy bush. Someone was dumb enough to black out in the bushes and you can’t tell who it is even after peering over the bush to look at the other half of the body.

“Jeonghan,” you hiss at the man who is trying to discreetly walk back to the car.

He looks back at you and mouths “what” while shrugging his shoulders.

You point at the head in the bush.

“It's Jihoon,” he snorts. He takes the paper bag from your hand and walks back to drop it in the wok that you put to the side before walking back to you. “I think he was supposed to give Vernon his keys but tripped and never got back up. Come to the car with me.”

“Why are you guys here?” you whispered. “I thought that you guys had the entire night planned out.”

“We had the entire night planned out. But then DK started crying and we had to end it early because he wouldn’t stop crying. And then all of us sobered up to try to help him but then it just worsened, so we drove here to get you to get him to stop crying. Some of us couldn’t deal with not being able to solve his problem and just started drinking again.”

“Is that why Jihoon is in the bushes?”

“Well, he never was the patient type,” he hums.

A quick look into the car immediately gets you to understand why someone like Jihoon would end up so drunk that he would dive headfirst into some bushes.

There are dozens of used tissues balled up and overflowing in the tiny hanging trashcan attached to the back of the passenger seat in Wonwoo’s car. There are a few in the laps of the two men sobbing next to each other in the backseats, and you make a mental note to help Wonwoo sanitize the inside of his car before he drives away in the afternoon. Seungcheol releases Seokmin’s seatbelt and looks at you with an apologetic smile on his face.

In all of the years you’ve come to know Seokmin, you have never seen his eyes this puffy.

“Sorry for showing up at your place unannounced. That must have scared you. There was a lot going on,” Seungcheol murmurs to you while giving you a quick hug. “We were making toasts to his future during the party until Vernon made a comment.”

“What did he say?” you asked him, shocked that your brother could even make a comment that would bring your fiancé to such a state.

“It wasn’t bad.” Seungcheol stepped aside from the open car door to let you squat next to your lover. “He just congratulated you on getting married but this dumbass took it the wrong way because he didn't mention Donkey Kong over here in the sentence and thinks you’re getting married to someone else.”

“Someone else!” Seokmin chokes out in a sob while slumped over on Soonyoung’s shoulder. “Why him? Why not me?”

You grab a tissue from the tissue box on the center console and dab at your future husband’s face. The traces of his tears wet the thin paper, and you can feel the heat of his skin through the tissue. With the same hand, you push the bangs stuck to his forehead and his eyelids to the side. You don’t mind that he doesn’t seem to know that you’re there taking care of him.

“Aww baby,” you coo. “I’ll get married to you, don’t worry.”

The familiarity of your comfort seems to lure your fiancé to sleep. A little further from you, Soonyoung continues to sniffle while his eyes are closed. You turn to Seungcheol and Jeonghan with your mouth open and eyebrows scrunched together.

“He’s a drunk crier…” Jeonghan’s words doesn’t leave you guessing anything. “And also Minghao opened his mouth during the bachelor party.” He scratches the back of his head as a sign of stress and embarrassment before looking at Seungcheol and cocking his head at the two knocked out in the car.

Jeonghan has the easier job of coaxing Soonyoung awake to walk him into your place. Seungcheol, on the other hand, takes it upon himself to swing the entire weight of your limp boyfriend like a large sack of rice over his shoulder.

“Do you need me to help with anything?” you ask him.

You don’t know what time it is anymore. The sky is getting brighter, and the temperature is warming up. Your partner looks finally peaceful in his sleep.

“Nah.” Seungcheol softly brushes your request aside. “We’ve already caused enough trouble for you.”

“I feel like I should be the one apologizing,” you joke while trailing behind Seungcheol just in case he needed any help readjusting the body.

“You don’t have to apologize for him.” His words are sincere. “He loves you, you know. He cried his heart out just because he loves you. There’s nothing to apologize for. To be loved is to be cared for. Go back to bed, we’ll probably wake up around dinner time.”

“Do you think anybody grabbed Jihoon?”

#seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seokmin imagines #seokmin fluff #svthub #seokmin x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #dk imagines #dk fluff #dk x reader #wondernus imagines

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charlesslut16 · 1 year

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-morning routine-

summary : when charles sees you doing your bathroom routine, he wants to join...

PAIRING : charles leclerc x fem!reader

WARNINGS : translated french, badly written

TAGS : tagging you both because you made me publish this fic @mrshavertz and @sophihavertz

masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sunshine peeked through the curtains as charles woke, the warmth indulging him, making the driver want to lay in bed all day. He rolls over, "bonjour-" the bed was cold and empty.

Charles could hear the humming of you singing to the song on your phone, the bathroom door slightly open, so that he could see you there. "What are doing up already, ma cherie?" he calls out to you, pulling himself out of bed.

You couldn't hear him over the music you had playing, as you did your makeup.

Leaning forward over the bathroom sink gentle strokes with your wet towel before you continue your routine, your eyes finding the eyes of charles, your boyfriend of 3 years, in the mirror as he comes in the bathroom, a smile on his face. "Hi baby," you smile at him, continuing to wash your face.

"good morning," Charles wraps both of his arms around your waist, his large hands lay across your stomach and your own free hand comes down to rest on his.

The two of you look at each other in the mirror with love in both of your eyes. His large hands covering your lower stomach with his head on your shoulder.

"Combien de temps avons-nous avant de devoir être à l’anniversaire de Lorenzo?" He asks you, giving you a kiss on your shoulder and standing up straight again. How much time do we have before we have to be at Lorenzo's birthday?

"Je pense que nous avons encore 2 heures. Arthur prend toujours son temps et est en retard la plupart du temps." You say to him, going back to your morning routine. .I think we still have 2 hours. Arthur always takes his time and is late most of the time.

"You think I can join you, doing your bathroom routine?"

"If you keep standing there, absolutely no."

Charles smiles, peeking your cheek and siting behind you on the bath tub, waiting for your instructions. Firstly, you give him a wet towel to wash his face.

In the meantime, you put your cleanser on. Charles puts the wet towel on his side, and you come to him and put cleanser on him. Then both of you put your serum on and your face oil. As it seems, charles loves both of them. After that, you moister your and his face.

Then you give him a kiss on his lips and tell him you're finished. He pouts, but you give him a kiss again and he smiles. You go back to your place in front of the bathroom sink and as you want to go there, charles stops you.

You look at him confused, as he goes out of the bathroom to come back with a stool. He puts the stool in front of the bathroom sink, sits down, and signals you to sit on his lap to continue your morning routine.

You do not hesitate and sit down on his lap. His hands sprawled across your stomach and his head laying in your neck. Throughout you're doing your makeup, he gives you some kisses on your neck.

While you were doing your makeup, charles asked you what you put on your face, how you use it and why you use it. You couldn't stop smiling as charles cutely asked you the questions.

As you finished your makeup, you looked up in the mirror seeing charles looking at his phone with his free hand, as his other was now holding you sit steady on his lap.

You tap charles tight, to signal him that you were finished. As charles looked up and saw that you were finished, he let go of you, so you could stand up. While charles when to put the chair away, you cleaned the bathroom sink from all your makeup utensils. After that, you went in your shared bedroom to pick out what you wanted to wear.

3 minutes went by and charles came back to find you looking through your shared closet to chose your clothes for Lorenzo's birthday party. You had 1 and a half hours until you needed to be at the restaurant.

"As-tu besoin d’aide, mon amour?", asked charles and went up to you to sling his arms around your waist. Do you need help, my love?

"Oui, je ne sais pas quoi porter", you say and with a loud sigh. Charles looks at you with a smile and steps away from you so he could help you find clothes to wear. yes, i don't know what to wear.

Some minutes later, he is finished with looking through your clothes and has decided that you should wear jeans with a white blouse and his jacket, wich makes you smile like a child.

He gives you the clothes and goes to look what he should wear. In the meantime, you go in the bathroom and put your clothes on. When you're finished, you go back to your shared bedroom to find charles putting on his rings. You go up behind him, give him a kiss on his cheek, and put your own jewelry on.

After that you sit on the bed and put your shoes on, until charles asks, "Alors, c’est votre routine matinale?" You nod and ang go pack on tying your shoes. As you see a shadow before you, you look and see charles standing there with a smile on his face. So this is your morning routine?

"Oui, tu ne le vois pas parce que tu es toujours éveillé devant moi.", you say and stand up to give him a kiss on his cheek. Yes, you don't see it because you are always awake before me.

He smiles back at me again, puts your hand in his and walks with you out of the bedroom and out of the house to his car.

So, to say this, today was a great day and a even better morning.

#charles leclerc #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc ferrari #f1 fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc drabble

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somnambulic-thing · 1 month

Text

Watershed Moments || part I

Masterlist Part II || ao3

Eddie Munson x Reader || E 18+ [demi!Eddie x 'tomboy'/gender-nonconforming!bi!reader]

childhood best friends to lovers, no Upside Down, canon divergent

Words: 3.8k

Series Summary: Watershed Moment is a term most people use for big events. Such events that mark historical turning points of great significance and shape the course of humanity; events that cause the printing presses of the world to run hot and make it from the front pages of newspapers into history books for the following generations to study. Opening the passenger door of Eddie’s van on a rainy Friday evening is exactly that. You're in love with your best friend. How many of those pivotal moments have there been in the past decade that have led you to this point? And what happens now?

Themes/Warnings for this chapter | pls check Masterlist for general tags: ||fluff, pining, angst, hurt/comfort, implied/non-graphic domestic abuse, child abuse: physical and mental, child neglect, dysfunctional family dynamics||

large parts of the fic will take place in the characters teenage years

A/N: I wrote this almost a year ago then got very precious about it and stopped in fear of fucking it up. I've decided to release it into the world before the layer of dust gets so thick that I can't find my way back to it anymore. Around half of it is already written in various states. This is a queer story at heart, even though you might not find it in explicit terms we'd use today to label and describe things.

Friday the 8th of May 1987

The music announces his arrival.

It always does.

It’s the reason you leave your window ajar whenever you’re expecting him; no matter the time of day, no matter the weather.

The faint notes of shrieking guitars slowly turn into recognizable music as you slip on your shoes and look for your keys. Going by his choice of song, he must be in a good mood and so you descend down the stairs in a hurry to meet him.

He’s picking you up to go see a movie like he had done countless times before.

You hook your fingers under the door handle, the metal smooth from years of doing so, and pull, rousing the familiar creeeeek of the hinges, expecting to get into the car with the boy who had been your best friend for over a decade, and suddenly find yourself staring into the face of the man you love.

Just like that.

There is a dip in the cushion of the passenger seat, perfectly molded to your ass and right there, he had placed a gift for you.

“Surprise,” he says with a smile that melts the sidewalk under your feet, gesturing at the book that’s waiting for you but there is nothing on this planet, or any other, that could bring you to pull your eyes away from his at this very moment.

You see him almost every day, had seen him not quite twenty-four hours ago, had talked to him on the phone this morning and it had been the same as always; he was Eddie.

Your Eddie.

And as you hold on to the door, waiting for the world to stop spinning so violently that you fear it could launch you into outa space, you realize that nothing about that had changed and still nothing was the same.

Just like that.

Eddie tilts his head, one hand still gripping the steering wheel, the other waving.

“Squash calling pumpkin, do you copy?” Eddie says in a deep, silly voice and the sweet sound of your childhood nicknames brings your realization full circle.

You are in love with your best friend.

“A-affirmative…”

“Ah, there you are. Will you get in here now? You’re getting wet.”

Oh, if you only knew.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you climb into your seat, carefully taking the book into your hands like it held the secrets to the universe between its covers. You yank the passenger door close absentmindedly, the slam echoing as loud in your ears as your own heartbeat and you wait for Eddie to complain about it but he doesn’t. Instead, you can sense him looking at you while you stare at the book in your lap.

And that really had been it, right?

What had made the truth about your feelings for Eddie hit you like a load of bricks; it was in the way he looked at you. In his giddy excitement to make you happy, his confidence that he absolutely would because he knew you so well and in the fact that you would look at him the same way if your roles were reversed.

That you do it all the time.

And just like that, it scares the shit out of you.

“H-how…” you start, but fail to find the right question. Your voice sounds brittle to your ears.

But Eddie chuckles, moves in closer and puts his chin on your shoulder, just like he always does. As if his silly little gesture hadn’t just changed both of your lives fundamentally and irrevocably.

“You mean,” he clears his throat and puts on an impersonation of your voice that’s infuriatingly remarkable. “Oh, Eddie, my precious Eddie, how did you get your brilliant and highly skilled hands on the new Stephen King novel that came out just two days ago?” His breath against your neck is warm and you just know that he’s pursing his lips in a silly grin.

“Yeah, that,” you swallow and then you give him what he’s after. A smile. Because no matter how flustered you are, you just can’t help it. “And I don’t sound like that.”

“Oohhh yes, you do,” he croons and the bass in his words vibrates through your bones where it’s already part of your marrow. You want to turn your head and kiss him. “It’s adorable,” he says and sits up, leaning back into his seat.

You huff out a laugh. “Do you compliment yourself in my voice a lot when I’m not around?”

“Something has to get me through the dreadful hours of the day where I have no access to your praise.”

It’s casual when he says things like that, and while Eddie starts the car and pulls into the street, you try to remember if it ever made you feel like combusting before.

Of course it had. All the time.

“Rick had some business in Indianapolis and I asked him to get me a copy,” Eddie explains into the silence, glancing over at you. “Seatbelt, pumpkin.”

“You… you didn’t have to do this…” you say instead of Thank you, Squashboy! instead of You’re the fucking best, Munson! instead of any of those soft things you would have thrown at him without hesitation just ten minutes ago and put on your seatbelt as he ordered, hoping he wouldn’t smell your confusion like the emotional bloodhound he was around you.

But Eddie laughs. “And listen to you whine about it until Hawkins’ dusty ol’ bookstore catches up with the modern world? Yeah, fat chance.”

“It would just have been a few weeks… tops…”

“A few weeks too many of seeing you mope. I’m not strong enough for that shit.”

You open the book on the first page to occupy your hands, which are begging to be buried in Eddie's hair, with something safe but, oh, the endeavor fails horribly because, of course, he left you a note inside and you should have expected it. Your fingertips trace over the familiar flow of Eddie’s handwriting with an infinite tenderness that’s meant for his cheeks.

for my little monster, can't wait for you to read this to me. - your doctor E.

“If you want to,” he adds softly.

I want to whisper every word of it into your mouth.

“This is the second book of the series, remember?… You wouldn’t understand a thing.”

“Incorrect,” he says solemnly, stops the car at a red light and almost jumps into your face with an open, all-teeth smile. “Surprise!”

“You… you read the first book?”

“Correct!” he bites his lip, excitement tugging at his cheeks. He’s so close. You could just lean in to taste him and for a moment you think that maybe he’s waiting for you to do so as he hovers there, big brown eyes roaming your face until a cacophony of horns pulls him away from you. “Fuckers,” he mumbles as he starts the car again and picks up the conversation where he’d left it: “And lo and behold: I liked it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I know, I know… I’ve given you speeches about why King doesn’t do it for me and all but you kept gushing about this Gunslinger book and how different it is and…” Eddie shrugged, “I thought I should give it a chance aaand it turned out you were right about it.”

You’re everything.

How did I miss this?

And what does it mean that I did?

“Hey, uh, are you alright?” he throws several quick glances at you, brows drawn together; all the joy, all the mirth gone.

Just like that.

Don’t you fucking hurt him!

“Why?”

“Why?” Now it’s a full-on frown. “Well, you’re… quiet. Which, you know, is totally fine with me generally, but I just told you, uh, that I read your favorite book and liked it after being a grump about it for months and—”

“Eddie?” A sigh.

“Y-yeah?”

“Wanna skip the movie, go to your place and start this?” you say softly, holding up the book. “Maybe get some snacks on our way?”

No hesitation.

“Hold on!” he cheered and you know that voice and that frantic look over his shoulder and—

“Oh no!” you huff as you scramble to clutch at something. “No nono no…”

—then the U-Turn thumps you against the door while Eddie laughs like he’s fueled on pure adrenaline.

“Fucking hell, Munson, slow down,” you shout over the wild cackling and he does. “If you kill us before I finished that series I’ll whip your ass!”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart,” he says with a grin and your pulse speeds up; eight little words and your rabbit heart races faster than from the prospect of possible death caused by Eddie’s poor impulse control. You watch him in awe as he forces himself to calm down, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, head bopping to their rhythm. “That was fun.”

“Yeah,” you try to sound distraught. “Such fun that you’re taking years off my life every time you do shit like that, you maniac!”

“But I’m giving them back to you by making you laugh. So it doesn’t count.”

***

1976

It was the October of your eleventh Halloween when the Munsons moved into the ground-floor apartment.

You just bought the first pumpkin of the season and couldn’t wait to spend the rest of the day drafting out a spooky design to carve into the tough orange flesh.

Impatient to start, you burst through the door and were halfway up the first landing when you saw the skinny lanky boy fumble with a box that looked way too heavy for his frame if the strain of the muscles in his arms was anything to go by.

Spinning around, his eyes were wide and alert, maybe even afraid, before he saw you on the stairs, relaxed a little and turned away to get on with opening the door.

“Here, I’ll help you,” you said, placed your pumpkin on the floor and rushed to his side.

“N-no, t’s alright, I'm… I got it—“ His words were swallowed by a loud thump as the boy swayed, barely saving the box from tumbling to the ground by wedging it between the door and his skinny chest.

“Don’t looks like it,” you quipped, ready to snatch his key to assist when—

“What the fuck are you banging against that door?“

— the door disappeared in a blur and a big angry man appeared in its place. The boy barely caught his balance before the box could slip again.

“Sorry Dad, sorry I didn’t—“

“Inside, Eddie!”

Eddie’s head whipped around to you, face scrunched in worry, his skin had turned a pale grey and you were sure to see the faint yellow remnants of a bruise high up on his cheek.

“Eddie!” he snarled and without another word Eddie pushed past his father, his backlit silhouette vanishing through a door on the left in a small hallway.

“Who are you?” the man almost barked at you.

Refusing to sound afraid, you introduced yourself. “My family lives on the second floor - welcome to the neighborhood, Mister…?”

“Munson,” he said briskly, but less angry and held out a large sweaty hand for you to shake. You did with reluctance. “Polite of you to swing by and say hello but we’re busy here, so if you don’t mind.” And with that, he closed the door.

You didn’t mind. You didn’t mind one bit.

Well…

“Oh,” your mother said when you told her everything, still heaving from running up the stairs like you were on fire. “But the boy probably just fell off his bike. You know how boys are, honey, don’t you?”

Suddenly, there was an itch in your own scraped knees; somewhat of a guilty sensation that added confusion to the upset.

„I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about,“ she added with a thin smile.

And you wanted to believe her, wanted to believe her so badly but your mother hadn’t seen the look in the boy’s - Eddie’s - eyes when you startled him.

Those same eyes were faintly red and a little puffy when you answered the knock at the door half an hour later.

“Hi,” Eddie said in a jolly tone that only increased your confusion. “You forgot your pumpkin.”

“Oh shit!” You hugged the pumpkin to your chest like you were reunited with a friend and glimpsed a first faint preview of that blinding smile you would eventually come to love so much on Eddie’s face. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Your, uhm, father called you that.”

“Right,” he swallowed, smile snuffing out like a candle. “Right.”

There was a silence filled with a thousand questions your mother would deem inappropriate to ask a stranger so you settled for an apology.

“Sorry, if I got you in trouble.”

“What?” Eddie drew his head back, frowning. “No, no. You didn’t, no trouble at all. Dad ’s just— you know, stressed with the moving.”

“Oka—“

“Have to get going now,” he laughed hollowly and backed away, “so much left to do.”

“See you around, Eddie,” you could only call after him as he hurried down the stairs, his reply echoing back up to you.

“See you around, pumpkin.”

But you didn’t see Eddie around much. Not at home and not at school either. He was a year above your grade - you figured that out soon enough - but it almost seemed like he was skipping about half the week on a regular basis. The few times you met him sneaking through the house like a shy cat, he was covered in grease or paint, carrying himself like a man who came home at the end of a fifty-hour workweek. He never talked much, never asked for your name, always called you Pumpkin.

You, however, saw a lot of Mr Munson; going in and out the building several times a day, often in the company of equally grim-looking men, sometimes with a woman with big brown eyes which gave her away as Eddie’s mother even before she introduced herself to you. She had wonderful long brown hair and you asked yourself if Eddie’s buzzed scalp would sprout in this deep wavy brown or his father’s dirty blond if he was to let it grow out.

You also heard Mr Munson. A lot. Especially at night, and a few weeks in, your parents started to doubt that Eddie and his mother were simply on the clumsy side.

Halloween finally arrived and you proudly placed your final piece of fine pumpkin craftsmanship out the front door, waiting for your father to come down to light the candles like you did every year.

“Hey, Wednesday.”

You turned towards the open door and Eddie slowly peeled out of the shadows of the hallway, hands behind his back and a careful smile on his face. His voice was soft and timid. The next time you would hear him talk, it had already started to break.

“Eddie,” you smiled and tilted your head. “You watch the Addams Family?”

“Duh,” he said and fully stepped into the beam of light falling into the hallway. “Looks, uh, nice… the costume, I mean… self-made?”

“Yeah, my mother helped me make it. What are you going as?”

One hand left his back as he bowed his head and scratched his scalp. “M’ not… allowed to. Dad thinks it’s… a waste of time… and silly.”

“Shit,” you mumbled, an awkward silence fell between you. “Uhm, what would you choose? If you were allowed?”

“Huh?” his face lit up slightly as he entertained the thought. “Frodo, I think.”

“Who’s that?”

“Who’s… who’s Frodo?” The disbelieve in his eyes was comical, almost theatric. “That part of your Wednesday act? Making cruel jokes and shit?”

“What are you talking about?” you chuckled and raised your hands to the sky in an equal amount of theatrics.

“The Lord of The Rings? Never heard of that?”

“Oh, yeah, but never read it or anything... my mom thinks it’s not appropriate… for a girl.”

“Shit,” he huffed. “And I thought my life was sad…” And what was meant as a joke, darkened his face like an eclipse, pulled his gaze away from you and into the distance before he shook his head to chase it away. “I, uhm, was wondering… I made a thing? For, uh… you know?” he pointed his chin at the decorations lined up beside the doorstep.

“Oh!” you called out in excitement. “That’s what you‘re keeping behind your back?”

“Uh, yeah…” he pinched his eyes shut. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“No,” you said and Eddie cracked open one terrified eye. “If it’s funny, I’ll laugh! You’ll just have to join me…”

“Uhm, uuh…”

“Let’s seeeee!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus…” Eddie took a deep breath and revealed his work with slightly trembling hands you chose to ignore for his sake. It was a butternut squash and Eddie had carved a swarm of bats into the surface.

“Oh!” you said again but this time in awe.

“I know it’s not… good or anything, not like yours and I think I got the wrong kind of, uh, pumpkin because, like… you can’t get a candle in there— stupid thing ‘s like solid fucking concrete and I get it when you don’t want it out here—“

“Are you insane? This is so good!” you stopped him and snatched the squash from his hands.

“Wait, really?”

“Uh-hn,” you turned it around to take in every little last bat. “Must have taken you forever… butternut squash really is tough!”

“That’s what it’s called?” he said, rubbing the back of his head, a deep blush tinting his whole face bright red. “Had no idea…”

You stepped to the side, already busy figuring out how to rearrange the display to integrate the squash. “We just pick one out together next year… if you want. I can show you the right ones.”

“Nah, don’t want to bother you… it’s fine.”

Hunkering on the ground, your white thighs forgotten, you paused and looked up at Eddie in genuine confusion. “Why would you bother me?”

“I… don’t… dunno…”

The squash was in the perfect place and you stood up, dusted off your hands on the back of your black skirt and put a careful hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s cool, Squashboy, really.”

“I…” Eddie’s face went through a plethora of emotions in seconds but he settled on a silly grin. “Did you just call me, Squashboy?”

“Would you prefer your Squashness? Or… uhmm… Lord of the Squash?— t’s a bit of a mouth full but if you insist…”

“Shut up,” Eddie threw his head back and laughed; it was loud and wild and echoed through the staircase. “That’s sooo stupid.”

There were footsteps coming from inside as someone was descending the stairs and next to you, Eddie turned into cold hard stone.

“T’s probably just my dad,” you tried to comfort him, sure you knew what this meant by now. “He’s coming to light the candles.”

The steps grew louder and Eddie’s skin was this awful shade of grey again.

“Eddie? Are you o—“

“I have to go,” he gritted out through his teeth, turned and hurried down the street in jerky steps.

“Hey honey,” your father said, appearing in the doorframe but you were still looking after the skinny boy in the too-big clothes rushing down the street, a thick knot in your chest. “Is that the Munson boy?” your father’s voice was casual, but not casual enough.

You looked up into a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?… Oh, nothing. Just got lost in thought for a second.” He finally looked down at you again, clapping his hands together. “I’m here to light some candles.”

What usually was one of your favorite rituals on Halloween was clouded by that awful shadow that kept creeping over Eddie’s face again and again. You decided to share your loot of candy with him when you came back; it wasn’t much but it was something. You’d just have to wait until Mr M was out of the house or whatever, but you could think about that later.

But when you came back home, Eddie was gone.

Nobody was telling you anything but after one week of lurking around adults when they didn’t pay attention gave you enough to piece it together.

There had been a fight. A bad fight and your father finally called the police. It took two deputies to get Mr Munson out of the house and into the back of a police car. Deputy Hopper gave him a good kick in the back of his knee to help him the rest of the way. Nobody on the block had seen that occur though, should anybody come around to ask. When the dust had settled down a little, Mrs Munson was nowhere to be found, so Deputy Hopper came back to collect Eddie.

The Munson’s rent had been paid for all through the next week and in the middle of that week, you saw a tall man whose features reminded you of Mr Munson carrying a big box out of the front door of your building. He crammed it into the back of a car already filled with other stuff and drove away before you could take a look at the front to see if Eddie was on board.

A few days later, men in blue overalls came to clear the rest of the ground-floor apartment. You lingered on the first-floor landing, observing a family’s life getting ripped out of this house like a rotten tooth from a jaw. When the blue men went outside for a smoke, you slipped inside. There wasn’t much left of what made a home a home; a potted plant, some kitchenware and— a breeze moved the curtains in the main room ever so slightly but enough for you to spot a little figurine hidden in the far corner of the windowsill. A small man with a knobbly nose and dirty feet.

You took it home with you.

And when one day you saw the tall man who looked a little like Mr. Munson from your window, you almost jumped in front of his car to make sure Frodo finally made it back to Eddie. That was what the other Mr. Munson called the little guy.

“I can’t believe it,” Eddie’s uncle rasped, “been lookin’ for this guy all over town… thought the clean-up crew dropped it off at some thrift store or church with the other stuff or somethin’. Thought he was gone for good.”

“Tell Eddie I said hi,” you beamed. “And that I saved him some candy.”

general taglist:

@bettyfrommars @dr-aculaaa @deathbecomesthem @songforeddiemunson @raccoonboywrites @jo-harrington @lunatictardis @skrzydlak @moonbeamsandmayhem @slutforstabbings @eddieslooneymoonie @chaoticgood-munson @storiesbyrhi @mrsjellymunson @the-unforgivenn @thecapricunt1616 @allthingsjoeq

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #my writing #watershed moments #Eddie Munson Angst #Eddie Munson Fluff

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ilovemattsturn · 6 months

Text

Don't be a baby

pt 2

Matt sturniolo x fem!reader

minors do or do not read in not your mom or dad♡

this is my first smut I've written in MONTHS. so if you hate im never writing again. (this is a warning for emi)

warnings: smut, overstimulation?, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys. be responsible), pet names (baby, ma, darling, ect.)

(listened to this song while writing this.)

"matt please!" I whine as matt keeps thrusting into my wet core

"shut up and take it cmon ma, you know you wanted this you slut" he says as smirking but I can't hear him due to me being close to my second orgasm of the night

the loud music in the background playing as I feel the beats pulse with my head as I look at matt as he kept on groaning as he made every thrust harder

"fuck matt im gonna cum" i warn him listening to his pathetic praises and whimpers come out of his mouth almost between my every moan

he begins to use him thumb on my clit making me reach my climax even quicker.

"i know baby, i can tell. go ahead darling cum on my dick. show me how good i make you feel. ma you take me so good" he groans out but as he finishes his sentence the knot in my stomach starts unraveling and I start cumming

"SHIT MATT IM CUMMING" I scream as he fills me up with his cum. the warmth of his cum into my cold core makes me desperate for more

"me too baby, god you don't understand how much i love this" he whimpers out as his thrusts slow down but he doesn't stop

"I loved this so much" I tell him as his slow thrust start overstimulating me. "matt I can't its too much!" I moan out loudly making him stop his thrusts and pulls out letting all the juices fall onto the sheets as I sit up

"finished only two times, expected more coming from you, you know" he says as he enters the bathroom leaving me dumbfounded on the bed. weak on the knees considering I was fucked dumb by matt.

"matt im sensitive you know" I let him know for the hundredth time. already annoyed by his stupid comment

"yeah, next time we do this Don't be a baby"

he says as he walks out the bathroom and back into the crowded living room.

------

A/N- I couldn't take myself serious writing this so pls leave tips and requests if you want! sorry this is so short I got lazy (emi didnt want this)

tag list 🎀

(dm or comment to be added)

@sturniolosluvv @strniohoeee @sturnphilia @recklesssturniolo @sillysillymatt @daddyslilchickenfingers

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo imagine #chris x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut

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eminems-skittles · 6 months

Note

🏃‍♀️ - for the writing game :)

drop an emoji and character in my ask box and i’ll write a blurb based off whatever song comes up on my playlist

song: tennessee orange by megan moroney

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader

a/n: my french is a mix of 2 years of high school french, duolingo, and google translate so it may not be the best!

tagging: @jackhues

orange

“when are you going to tell your brothers?” lando asked quietly as he pressed soft kisses to the column of your neck. he had snuck into your room after everyone had stopped caring about his whereabouts.

“soon, baby,” you promised, your hand going to tangle in his hair.

“when’s soon? wanna see you in orange not red on sunday,” he huffed, his lips coming up to kiss the shell of your ear.

“lando, if i tell them before the race, charles may just drive his car straight into yours and i don’t want to go visit you in the hospital,” you groaned, kind of pushing him off of you. he looked at you and shook his head.

“it just feels like you don’t want to tell them,” he admitted.

“i want to tell them so bad, lan, i just don’t want you to be on the receiving end of any of their anger or anything,” you sighed, bringing a hand up to his face. he turned and kissed the palm of your hand. “what if i told maman instead? tell her now and then charles and them later okay?”

“okay,” lando agreed, a smile taking over his features. “thank you, love.”

the brit leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling you close to him.

the next morning, you decided to go to breakfast with pascale. nerves shot through you as you figured out what you were going to say to her. you knew she wouldn’t have as big of a problem with it as your brothers but her reaction still had you worried.

“what is it?” your mother asked after you had been spaced out for several minutes.

“maman,” you started. “i’ve got some news.”

“quoi?” what? she asked, her eyes scanning your face.

“i’ve met somebody,” you trailed off, looking to her face for a reaction. she nodded, silently telling you to continue. “he’s got blue eyes. he opens the door and he won’t make me cry. he treats me so good, maman.”

“ma fille, qui est-ce?” my daughter, who is it? pascale asked, her hand coming across to the table to hold yours.

you huffed before answering, “lando. but don’t tell charles yet! he’d lose his mind if he knew. but i’m going to be wearing mclaren orange at the grand prix.”

“c’est marveilleux, y/n!” that’s wonderful! pascale said, smiling brightly at you. “when are you telling tes frères?” your brothers

“soon.” you promised. “real soon.”

“bien, bien,” good, good she pauses before saying, “mclaren orange…charles may not like that.”

“je sais, maman. je sais,” i know, mom. i know. you said laughing. “i’m scared for lando.”

pascale laughed at that. “moi aussi, y/n. but he’ll be okay. charles is going to be happy for you.”

#cassie’s masterlist #masterlist #{ cassie’s writing games}#writing #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando x reader #formula one blurb #formula one x reader #{ lando norris }#{ formula one }#100 #200

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xerotiny99 · 20 days

Text

The Lewd Rituals of a Typical Day // Our Precious #6

The Lewd Rituals of a Typical Day. (Our precious #6)

M.list | Previous | Next

Pairing: main - Park Seonghwa x Reader. Side - Reader x Jeong Yunho, Reader x Kang Yeosang

Warning (for all parts): smut, hardcore smut, soft dom!seonghwa, dom!yunho, dom master!yeosang, sub!reader/slave!reader, breast stimulation, teasing, biting and marking, DD/LG, seonghwa has a feeding kink (does not overlap with fat fetish), praise kink, food play, unprotected sex, fingering, cock warming, thigh riding, nipple play, bits of master-slave dynamic, rough sex, manhandling, cum play/cum shot, dirty talk/degradation (just know yunho has a filthy mouth), size training (vaginal), etc.

Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable or triggered by any aforementioned tags. Not proofread.

Gist: it's the weekend and you finally get the time to spend it with your so called "boyfriends".

Total Word Count: n/a

Taglist: @t3kandson @therealcuppicake @sebastianswhore13 @solisyeah

[a/n:] thank you so much for 190+ followers. really appreciate it.

Part Two [6.2]: Down on My Knees - Kang Yeosang x Reader

Warning: master/slave dynamic, slave!reader, master!yeosang, wax play, use of Ben wa balls/kegel balls, use of ropes, rope bondage (hojojutsu tie), deep-throat/throat fucking/blowjob, cunnilingus, etc.

Song rec: Drip by Black Atlass

Gist: Yeosang gives you a glimpse of his eccentric kink. Let’s say, he’s one intimidating man behind all the innocent facade he puts on.

Word Count: 11,122

How did you end up in this position? Kneeling in front of him, arms bound with a thick rope and held behind your back, and the seemingly innocent ruse he paints on; in his make-believe world, you're supposed to be looked down upon, and he's supposed to have the higher ground to assert his dominance. He wasn't fooling anyone with his charming demeanor, and you indeed hadn't been fooled by his undisturbed personification. Who knew, Yeosang would be one of the wild ones, the kind who are quiet and gentle, who speak less and listen to others talk, the ones who make their opponent believe they know everything about them when in reality they know nothing about them.

The two of you were trapped in a trance of silence, both taking up the empty space adjacent to the bed. A little further into his room, you and Yeosang were both busy with your own things; he eyed you like a predator would eye his prey, and somehow, it seemed to arouse your worst tendencies. A strain in your forearm aches against your posture, making you curl your back into your stomach, and the hemp rope bites into your skin, creating irritated scratches; Yeosang's tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth the moment he hears you whimper. You hold onto a breath of yours, until it's forcing its way out to blend in with the dense air of this room. The dread follows you, lurking in your mind; you could sketch out a rough outline of Yeosang's mind, of his needs. He needs control. He likes it a little too much. Which would explain why you were kneeling in front of him, with your arms shackled in some rope to restrict any movement of your body.

"Did I tell you to stop?" he growls, sighing a minute later, "from the top, again."

You groan, voicing your frustration, "I promise, I'll be good next time. Just let me continue. We've been over this for the longest time, I'm tired."

"Rules are rules, kitten." He rasps, lowering his voice down a baritone, "now, from the start. As I said before."

Exasperated, you straighten up and stare up at him. There he sat on a metal chair, hungry eyes trained on every movement of your body. He sits poised and stoic, putting most of his weight to the side as his elbow which rests on knee. His legs are crossed over one another, and he subtly keeps brushing his fingers under his chin as if he were to be in some deep ponder about life. For a man to be this ethereal, was a crime. And you wouldn't base your judgment on the fact that he was a man, but rather on how meagre his efforts were to delineate his grace. How can a man wearing a simple tank top and jogger shorts, appear this elegant?

Yeosang's lips curve into a silken smirk, almost like a trace of smugness caressing his face before stranding his mien with an unbearable hint of thirst. His soft brown eyes yearn for a taste, for a quick nibble of your bare chest which was on a hankering display. When his silence murmurs louder in your ear, you take a deep breath and scatter your attention across the floor; there laid sheets of black print, words etched in a continuum. Back to the first page, to the very beginning. You had read through the first page ten minutes before. There goes your ten minutes of hard work and patience.

This was a tortuous nightmare which seems to be never ending, a situation having you kept astray in a void of fear and anticipation, tickling every being of your flesh and bones. It doesn't matter how dedicated you are to him, he will find a way for you to lose, for you to give in to your ailing state of mind. So far, he had succeeded in making you feel small, belittled your presence.

Time stands still in this room; all air is knocked from your lungs when proceed to enunciate the first few words on the first page.

"We the undersigned parties, recognise and accept the submission of Moon Angel, hereafter called the 'slave' to Kang Yeosang, hereafter referred to as the 'Master', in a relationship of," you trail away, almost losing your voice, "relationship of voluntary servitude hereafter called 'slavery'."

In this blighted state of affairs, you're in a constant dilemma, whether you should've read and signed the contract beforehand, or not. To your better understanding, it would have been hundred times better if you had just taken out the time to read and sign the contract before. All this humiliation would've been avoided.

"Go on," Yeosang nudges you with a husky undertone laced to his words, "we've got a lot to deal with here, kitten."

Shaking your head, you swallow thickly to wet your sore throat before continuing, "by this instrument, Master agrees to direct, train and dominate, the Slave for Master's pleasure and benefit."

Why were you aroused by this? You'd hate to admit it, but you were soaking wet from reading this so-called contract, by picturing the words jumble up on a pretty risqué imagery in your mind. In an attempt to alleviate the strain in between your thighs, you squeeze them, quite tightly for your cunt to rub against your flesh. Yeosang doesn't let your venture go unnoticed by him; rather, his lips lilt into a haughty smirk, playing the descant game of tease in his head.

Regardless, you press your lips together and mumble, "the slave's tenure will begin on the day of signing this agreement and end on the last day of the twelfth month after the day of signing. A review will take place every three months."

"Do you have any doubts till now? Perhaps, some questions which have been troubling your mind?" he asks, relaxing back into the chair and spreading his legs wide.

"Not really." You respond; however you couldn't resist peeking at his cock when he spread out his legs like that.

You catch the glimpse of his erection protruding through the flimsy material of his shorts; gauging by the outline, you could tell he had an impressive size. Which doesn't really seem to be one of your biggest concerns at the moment. You should be instead, worried about what the future holds for you. It was easy to shrug off every possible leeriness you faced, up until he had asked you to fetch the contract from your room and meet him in his own.

Things went south. Quite quickly. Everything was a blur of moment, seconds dragging to something lesser than them, seizing to nothingness as time paralleled to nix. You entered his room, the dimly lit abyss of ambiguity and confusion; a queen-sized bed in the centre, draped in red silk sheets, and the curtains to the window stayed drawn together to filter out any natural light seeping in. His room was dark, and devoid of any unnecessary things. Even more peculiar, his room did not allow any sounds from the outside to saunter in and vice versa.

The entire aesthetic of his room was an enigma, an elaborate conundrum which would put anyone in a bewildering position. A desk remained shrouded in the dark by a corner, and two separate closets were bound to a side of the wall; one of them was locked with a silver padlock, and it also harboured quite a few intricate pieces of cravings in the wood. The other closet was basic, laminated with a much basic plywood. There was a door situated to the left side of the bed, presumably the bathroom, and to the right of the bed, was where the closets, and desk were located.

After spending the first few hours of the morning with Seonghwa, you were dragged by Yeosang to his room; on the way to his room, by the stairs, you came across Wooyoung who had then groggily greeted you before turning a side eye toward Yeosang. That, somehow, itched Yeosang in a wrong way and awoken something feral in him. He wrapped his hand around your waist and pulled you with him, not caring if you fumbled in your steps or were even capable of keeping up with his pace. First, he pushed you in your room, asked you (in a growl) to get the contract he had given to you and then he dragged you into his room. When the locks behind you clicked, your heart dropped to your gut.

Yeosang's sheer strength was enough to turn you on, enough for your cunt to start dripping at the thought of the other things he was capable of doing to you. He could easily manhandle you, throw you around like a puppet and bend you to his words. Inspecting your body then, he walked around you in circles, until he got too riled up to contain himself. He had ripped your shirt off your body, technically speaking, Jongho's shirt, and now it laid strewn on the floor in tattered pieces.

Many more things unfolded after that, he asked you sink down on your knees, he got himself a red-coloured hemp rope to tie your arms behind your back, and then he dragged a spare chair over in front of you and slid himself onto it. He sprawled the contract papers on the floor, for you to read through them, loud and clear.

And so here you are. In a probable dehumanising position.

"Your restraints aren't too tight, are they?"

"No..." your lips quiver, arms struggling in the hold.

They weren't tight or as uncomfortable as you thought they'd be; though, the rope was biting into your skin and chafing it every time you moved only as to little. You were quite astounded by Yeosang's preferences, and how he dabbled in the art of Japanese bondage called shibari. There's something about him you couldn't place your finger on yet. Regardless, the moment he started looping the rope around your arms and your back, you were crumpled down to pieces.

To Yeosang's eyes, you were a treat. He pities you for not being able to see how luscious you looked with the red ties scattered on your back, and around your chest; the rope did in fact loop around your forearms and crossed at the back, it formed an intricate pattern of a star with how it was tied. And in the front, it ran parallel to your chest, the rope running under and over your tits. Nothing could've stopped him from drooling at the sight of you; you on your knees, half naked and body shuddering ever so lightly every time he glared at you.

"The slave must reveal all appropriate thoughts, feelings and desires relating to servitude without hesitation or embarrassment," he states, clear and firm, "I'm going to ask you again. Are your restraints uncomfortable?"

"No," you reply, confidently.

"As a slave, what must you refer to me as?" he poses another question, still sounding resolute somehow.

"Master."

"That's my girl," he praises you, a smile breaking out on his face before he leans over to whisper, "I did not tell you to stop reading. Please, carry on. My patience is running out."

You take a breath of relief, knowing he hadn't tormented half of your being by forcing you to read everything from the start. But you were also transfixed by his words, by his presence. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you clear your head and proceed to read further on.

"This voluntary servitude may be renewed at the Master's discretion with the slave's consent." you take another breath in, and continue, "It is agreed that this period of slavery will be under the Master's direction and control and will be subject to the following conditions."

Yeosang hums along with you, "let us keep those conditions to ourselves. Why don't you read them in your mind and let me know if you have any concerns regarding them."

You take his suggestion well, spanning your eyes across the printed letters and comprehending them in your mind. As the time passes, the restraints start tugging you down; it was overbearing to hold the straight posture for all this time. Your arms had started to ache as well, going sore from having no freedom to move them around. However, you still held it in, held on the very little of your patience and dedication to get through this.

Reading the conditions, you could tell he curated his preferences perfectly on the paper. The conditions stated were beneficial to both parties; most importantly, they took the slave's gratification into consideration.

"Is everything understood so far?" he murmurs, peeking at you.

You raise your head and nod, "yeah. I think I got the gist of it."

Yeosang hums again, but his jaw clenches slightly and your gut knots itself, "I meant, yes master."

He smirks, "good. You're getting the hang of it." Tracing his thumb under his lower lip, he pulls himself off the chair and takes a few steps closer to you. He crouches down, his aura buzzing around with a certain heaviness, "I want to punish you for not obeying me. I had asked you way well in advance to read through this contract, hadn't I?"

"I'm—I'm sorry, I know should've done it—"

"—don't waste your energy on apologies, kitten. The time's gone."

His fingers pinch your chin and tilt your head further up, forcing you to meet his eyes; the dark, sullen, dour eyes of his show no emotions, not until a spark of lust and carnality breaks out. You gulp, audibly, squirming your thighs together to ease the tension between them. Beyond hope, you knew you had soaked through your shorts, you were sure Seonghwa's cum had slicked out all the way through along with your own arousal.

Dense air in the room leaves you to suffocate on your spit, while his lips caress the tip of your nose and drag along your cupid's bow. He presses a soft kiss against your lips, mumbling them in a haze of sheer want and need. When he pulls back, he adorns a scornful smile on his face, tugging his cheeks softly into his eyes.

"Get on your feet for me." He drags his words to a whisper, "now."

The authoritative tone flips a switch in you, turning your rationality off and switching on your submissive mind. He straightens up and takes a step back, watching your helpless-self struggle to get on your feet. You stumble while trying to bring yourself up from your knees, and the way your arms were shackled behind you, it seemed almost impossible.

Yeosang extended no hand for help, he quite enjoyed the show you had put on for him; a belittling chuckle is trapped in his chest, while his arms are folded over. He waits a beat, for a second to cross the threshold of your clumsiness before he leaps in and helps you up; there it was, his warm hands bracing against your waist, pulling you up on your feet and stabling your wobbly stature.

"Come here," he holds one of your arms and guides you to the chair; the contract sheets lay untouched on the floor, starting to flutter to the winds brought in by the ceiling fan. "Stay still, hmm?" he murmurs from behind you, his warmth painting an untamed desire on your back.

You nod, whispering, "okay."

Before you could voice your other concerns, his presence dithers away. Listening to some shuffles around in the room, you turn your head to find him unlocking the closet which had intrigued you before, the same closet with a silver padlock and intricate carvings on its wooden panels. The doors creak softly at the hinges when he opens them. Amid the pointless dark and silence, you observe him, noticing a soft glint of something metallic in his hands. You were unaware of what he had retrieved from the closet; bewildered, you continue to stare at him as he grabs a couple more pieces from the closet. Stricken by a haze of wonder and despair, you whimper under your breath. Tremors brush your skin, trickling your flesh with an ecstatic desire.

You press your lips together, preventing your needy groans from slipping past your lips; his footsteps ascend to you, while an object rattling in his hand. He stands in front of you now, fixing himself behind the chair to dump the things he was holding in his hands. As he is steadying himself back, you catch a glimpse of his smirk fleeting on his plump lips. When he straightens himself, you notice the objects spread on the chair.

A candle. A pair of what seems like, silver balls, alongside a small capsule-shaped button or something. And a silver plated lighter having a butterfly engraved on it.

A quick flick of lighter turns the flame on, he proceeds to light the candle; the wick burns with vigour, providing to the subtle morning light which had already begun to fade in from the window regardless of the curtains being drawn together. He sets the lit candle on the small desk, located next to his bed, right behind him. You must've failed to notice this one before, not that it matters now because you're too fixated on him, on his actions and what he tends to do with you.

"Ever seen this?" he muses, picking up the silver balls in his fingers.

Letting them dangle from his forefinger, he shows it off to you. It was your first time coming across them. The two marble sized balls were a half an inch apart from each other connected with a fine chain link; they appeared small and delicate.

"No," you mumble, "what are those?"

"Rin-no-tama," he pronounces it in a perfect harmony, and shrugs, staring down at the shimmering spheres hanging from his finger, "or orgasm balls." His eyes meet yours, "don't worry, they only create subtle stimulation. It's more of a teasing device than anything intense."

He strings out his words so casually, lips quivering with a vague smile. Taking a long stride around the chair, he comes to stand behind you; the balls clatter gently against his hand when he holds them by the long tail of chain adhered to the one of them. Your mind is a complete mush at this point, overridden with enthusiasm and anticipation. One of Yeosang's arms comes to tangle around your waist, while the other sneaks up your back and comes into your view. Right in front of your face, he holds the two orbs, their chrome shade alluring and intriguing.

"Open up," he whispers, nudging the balls closer to your lips, and pushing them till you're willingly opening your mouth. "Good kitten."

You moan at the praise; however, it's muffled by the tiny little spheres in your mouth; he continues to push them, trying to settle them deeper, and as he does, the tip of his fingers too sink in your hot and wet mouth.

"Cover them up nice and warm," he suggests, "they'll be going inside you."

Another desperate groan tempts to slip past your lips, but you bite down on it and continue to suck on the balls in your mouth. Yeosang's fingers plunged a little deeper than before, forcing the orbs further down your throat; he hums in satisfaction once he thinks it's enough. Offering a subtle tug on the chain he held onto, he pulls the orbs out and lets them dangle in front of you. They're slick with your spit; a thin layer coats their surface and translucent saliva strings adhere to them in a perfect curve. You squeeze your thighs together, melting at the thought of him stuffing those balls inside you.

"You get really eager, don't you?" Yeosang teases, slipping his hand from your waist to in between your legs; he slaps your thighs apart, and then proceeds to tug on your shorts. "Since it's our first time, I will keep it...easy for you."

As the last bits of his words dither in your mind, you had failed to notice how in one swift motion he had torn your shorts off of your waist. First the shirt, and now your shorts. Both laid littered in pieces on the floor.

"What do you mean—nghhhh!" your voice clamours to a moan, a sudden gelid sensation urging you to close your eyes and revel in it.

"Oh, you know," Yeosang grins, "take things slow with you." He bites down on his lower lip, addressing to you in a mumble, "relax for me, will you. Deep breaths."

Listening to him, you take a deep breath in, your anticipation pulsating past its limit. A second ticks, and he nudges one of the spheres against your folds, eventually dragging them along your slit to slip it in your cum-filled hole; the first orb stretches only so much, burning the pit of your stomach in a momentary heat. He tugs further on the dainty chain holding both of the spheres to have them fit snug in you. The warmth of his fingertips disrupts the peace in your heart; nifty tremors spread across your spine when he pushes two of his fingers in, delving them deep and gently pressing the balls further inside. If you could be honest, the cold sensation of the balls and the drifting warmth of his finger was wrecking your mind, giving you the sensory stimulus you needed so bad.

"Fuck—it's cold," you moan, rolling your hips down on his hand to let his fingers plunge further.

He clicks his tongue, immediately pulling his fingers out and offering one of your asscheeks a light squeeze. "You're not supposed to enjoy your punishment, kitten."

"I'm—I'm not," you stutter, knowing well you were lying to him.

"Really?" he emphasises, groping both of your asscheeks and spreading them apart, "the way you were grinding down on my fingers, it said otherwise."

"I just—I need something more to—need something more to feel..." you trail off, going speechless for the moment when the heaviness of the balls settles in your cunt.

"No, kitten," he slurs, "you don't need anything more."

Yeosang glances at his fingers, coated with your juices and Seonghwa's cum from before; he honestly has no problem with it, and speaking in all fairness, he's used to this kind of plight. Watching the translucent fluid coat his fingers, he lets his lips curve to a conceited smile before bringing his hand in front of your face. His other hand stays tangled with your waist.

He clicks his tongue and prompts you, "lick these off. It's yours and Seonghwa's...afters."

Eager, you open your mouth and let him stick his fingers in; a familiar salty and bitter taste coats your tongue, with tender underlying tones of sweet. Enjoying the warmth and the sloppy confines of your mouth, he thrusts his fingers in till he's knuckles deep. You lap your tongue along his fingers, nonetheless, sucking them clean. Offering a few kitten licks to you his rough fingers, you muffle a whine when he pulls them out with a vile 'pop' sound reverberating around you two.

"Such a good kitten," he muses, "cleaned my fingers with her tongue. She deserves a treat, she really does."

His absence leaves your back, which alerts you and prompts you to straighten up slightly. And with that subtle movement of your waist and your back, your walls to clench around the metal orbs. A curt whiplash of arousal crawls up your spine, making you hiss at the furor which spreads across your body, rather quite instantly. Yeosang's face comes into your view; a face worth admiring, a face you could never get tired off. His eyes nurture a sense of slumber, and his plump lips are seemingly too kissable to deny the urge. The gorgeous man in front of you, standing right behind the chair, which was stuck between you two, had dubious intentions inscribed in the brown specks of his eyes.

Leaning in close to you, he cups your face with both his hands and nudges the tip of his nose along yours; he traces it down to your lips, only for a hot second before ghosting his own on yours. In the next minute, his tongue darts out and swipes under your lower lip. A smile fleets on his face, his eyes glimmering with an untamed desire. The grasp of his hands surrounding your face tightens, holding your face in one place as he abates the distance between your lips. A brush. A delicate brush of his lips wanes you to a complete silence, and it soon blooms in your chest, slipping out of in you in the form on a whimper. Yeosang's lips start lapping up with yours, dwelling into a heated kiss which starts mellowing out every sane thought in your mind.

For the time being, struck with his lips and his hands, you forgot your hands were tied behind your back, you forgot about the rope nicking your skin and leaving red marks behind; you were immersed in the way his lips moved with yours, how he softly grumbled when you tilted your head and deepened the kiss. Breathless, you kept it going, you kept your lips on his while his tongue prodded past them. Yeosang pushes his thumb pads into your cheeks, forcing you to heave a gasp and allowing him to push his tongue in. The slickness of his tongue wraps around yours, tackling it in the further warmth of your mouth.

He moans, sounding it from his chest when you start sucking on his tongue. You push his sloppy muscle out of the way and shove yours down his throat. In the despair of your body, you're slithering beyond to caress the tip of your tongue against his uvula. When his gag reflex kicks in, he groans and pulls your face away from his.

Out of breath and panting softly, he smirks, "my kitten is so desperate." He pushes himself back, continuing in a mere whisper, "come on, we've still got five pages to read over."

Tugging you to the place where you were kneeling before, he forces you to get down; without much hesitation, you oblige to his demand and sink on your knees, the stray sheets of paper kissing your bare skin. The metallic spheres which were sheathed deep in your cunt, fidget with your walls and stroke your arousal. You gasp when the balls plunge in the steepest part, only for the time you were adjusting yourself on your knees.

Yeosang grins to himself, watching you squirm and struggle to keep your spine upright. Hunching over, you fail to notice him extending his hand to wind it around your throat; with a simple and steady jerk, he forces you to meet his eye, his lips encasing one of the most impish smirks ever. His fingers dig deep into your skin, denting it with his mere strength and painting it with little crescents of his nails. The more you stare at him, the tighter his grip becomes around your throat. You choke on your spit, mouth falling agape to the torrid desire of breathing. In all seriousness, his fingers and thumb were pressing against the right places on your throat.

"Eyes on me," he growls, "when you're with me, I want your eyes on me. At all times. Exceptions would be—" he trails off, "—when you're blindfolded, or in any position which makes it uncomfortable for you to look at me." Letting silence speak louder, he bites his lower lip and waits for you to answer. And upon getting none, he snickers, "what do we say, kitten?"

You couldn't really get your words out, not when his hand continued to clasp around your throat, tightening every second and causing your walls to convulse into each other. The worst part, however, was when you writhed to the enthusiasm of getting choked; every time your body shuddered against the floor, the balls inside you built your arousal to its brim.

Regardless of your throat turning dry, you croak, "yes master."

"That's what I like to hear," a smirk splays on his lips, while he loosens his grip on your throat. A sudden wave of concern washes over his tone, "you should let me know if I'm crossing any limits, Angel."

You shake your head, coughing, "it's—I'm fine—I'm fine, really."

"Are you sure?" he asks, a smile wavering on his face before it is replaced with a straight line, "next time we meet, we'll be setting our boundaries. You need to tell me what you're uncomfortable with and what you're okay with. Got it?"

Nodding your head, you weakly string out, "yes, master."

Yeosang seems satisfied with your answer and pulls himself back on his feet, letting go of your throat; he towers over your slouched shoulders, arms folded over his chest as he coaxes you with an encouraging jab of his head.

"Continue. From where we left off."

His footsteps descend down the meagre dark beside his bed; he grabs the candle from the desk adjoining it and carries himself back to you. For a minute, in your state of bemusement, you gawk at his veiny hand which wraps so delicately around the candle. And later when the minute of confusion passes you like a dream, you come to terms with what he has planned for you. Yeosang's lips curve slightly with every step he takes toward you, his eyes glinting with mischief and lust.

"I can't hear you, kitten." He teases, "I'm assuming you've had hefty breakfast in the morning. Gonna need you speak a little louder, kitten."

You shift on your legs, sitting with a comfortable posture, distributing your weight equally on your calves before his words lash on you and make you squirm, causing the balls to twist and turn around in your cunt. The budding tension in the pit of your stomach is too much to contain; if only there was something more to unravel you. Biting on a moan, you nod your head vigorously and swallow some of your spit down to wet your dry throat.

"The slave hands her," you read the next page in line, eyes tearing up gradually from the pleasurable ache pounding at the walls of your cunt, "the slave hands her training over to her Master."

"Hmm," Yeosang hums and displaces himself behind you, "go on."

You're too focused on the reading to notice anything out of order. "The Master may give his slave 'free periods', be it in the Master's presence, where the slave—the slave may express herself openly and freely."

"That's right," he hums, his presence warming up to your back when he leans over slightly, "hmm, carry on."

Heaving in a deep breath, till it convulses your lungs into each other, you proceed, "there will be no punishments applied during these free periods. However, it is understood that the slave will continue to address her master with respect—ah fuck you."

A hot sizzle crawls down your back, trickling further and farther on your skin; the hot sensation traces a mere inch, and it dissipates to a steady streak of coldness. Muffling a whimper, you give yourself a little time to comprehend what had happened.

Candle. Wax. Hot wax. Hot wax on your skin.

You draw your shoulders in, and then roll them out, focusing on reading. As if you could really concentrate on the task at hand, when he is fixated on pouring the melted wax on your flesh. The burn of the candle grows intense on the crook of your neck, while his other hand lingers up and down your spine, dipping down the curve and then pulling back up.

Yeosang clicks his tongue, "you know the rules, kitten. From the top. Again."

You despised hearing those words, those exact words which caused you so much torment and frustration; if you could, you would pick yourself up the floor and leave, but sadly the contract states the otherwise. The contract states a lot of things, all of the phrases are now ingrained in your brain. Of course they would be, you've read them countless times. Even so, with all that you've read and spent your time reading, you hadn't gotten to the end of it yet.

"Please," you whine, "you caught me off guard." Squirming on your feet, your knees itch with an urge to unfold yourself from your position. Though even when the thought of you doing that crosses your mind, the balls in your cunt move, and wreck your body with the soaring pleasure. "Let me read, let me continue. I can't go back and read it all over again. I'm tired."

Yeosang sucks on his teeth, "fine. Let's put a stop to this. Don't worry about the reading for now, just relax yourself and take deep breaths whenever I tell you to."

From the back, he pushes the contract papers aside and they scatter further away on the floor. You're steep in anticipation, partaking in the little games he was playing with you. And to your surprise, he loops one of his arms around your waist and pushes his chest into your back. His other hand, holding onto the candle, comes in your view for a meagre second before it drifts down your chest. Peeking over your shoulder, he directs the candle towards your collarbones, right by the centre. As the wax on it melts, a few drops trickle and trail between your tits; you hiss at the burn, throwing your head back onto his shoulder and closing your eyes shut.

"Does it hurt that bad?" he chuckles, "you're such a pathetic liar, kitten. I know my way around this, the wax isn't even that hot, is it...?"

You press your lips together and nod, whimpering, "but it—but it scares me to not know where and when you'd..."

As you trail off, he chimes in, "when I would drip hot wax onto your skin, hmm?" he stifles another chortle and presses his lips against the crook of your neck, "well kitten, that's the whole point of it, isn't it? You anticipate, live in the thrill—doesn't that get you all hot and bothered?"

His hand which had been around your waist, slides down your lower abdomen and belly to trace circles on your mound; you bite back another whimper because his cold fingertips urged to graze further down to rub your clit. Pressing in circles, his middle finger dips along your slit, the sensation making you mewl. When he presses a little harder, the walls of your cunt tighten around the ovoid device fit snug in the deepest part of you. Yeosang groans the moment he feels your juices and Seonghwa's cum coat his sleek- long finger. He rests his forehead against your shoulder, containing his very urge to shove two fingers into your puffy cunt and saw you out as you deserved to be.

"Yes—yes, it does." You squeak, catching up on your slipping tongue and the hitching breath.

Speaking of truth, you were certainly beyond bothered. This session was dragging on in a painfully slow pace, and you wondered if this is how it's going to be with him at all times. Though, you couldn't completely deny that you were enjoying yourself, just as much as he was by toying with you. Yeosang doesn't utter another word and his warmth strays off your back; the intensity of the candle grows stronger on one of your tits, and before you could react to it in anyway, a good and hot wad of wax trickles down your fleshy tit and taut nipple. Pressing your lips together, you prevent yourself from whimpering to the searing heat, but it soon cools off and hardens around your skin, moulding perfectly.

"Yeo—" at the verge of spilling his name out, you catch your tongue but it's too late, the sweltering wax is already leaking down on your chest.

"I do not recall giving you the audacity to call me by my name." His chuckle is long lost in your ear, "you need to learn, kitten, that, bound in these four walls, I'm your master. Do you understand that, or I do need to fuck it in your brain?"

You swallow the prickly lumps forming in your throat, and nod with an eager look, "yeah, yeah—I understand, master."

"Such a good kitty, she deserves to be treated, doesn't she?"

The nods of your head grew softer but still remained eager; as your foreboding anticipation would crash over you, Yeosang trawls the candle across your chest and continues to do so until he's painted perfect rivulets of crimson wax on your skin. Alluring shade, intricate patterns branching outward on your skin, it was a piece of art how the melted wax framed your chest. You tilt your head to catch a glimpse of the red streaks, captivated by his work. Yeosang grumbles a string of incoherent words, sounding a little off in his satisfaction; you keep yourself from whimpering his name, and shift about on your folded legs. There it was a blinding spark of tightness roiling in the pit of your stomach.

"Please, please, please..." you chanted in your haze of desperation, wanting to be relieved of your misery.

The man leaning against your back, clicks his tongue; his presence starts to dither, the warmth cascading down to a cold breeze of nothingness. He's off and up, the candle disappears from your line of sight, and it fills up with tears. You may not like to admit it, but you were really close to letting go of all the tension in the pit of your stomach. A simple nudge would be enough for you to come undone. Though, in the darker side of your mind, you couldn't foretell any of Yeosang's further moves. Sullen in the state of stillness, you take a deep breath and let the nifty moments roll out. And to your surprise, you find Yeosang placing the candle back to its rightful place; he turns on his heels, the meagre light illuminating a haughty curve of his lips.

"If my memory serves me right," he drags his words into a whisper, "I remember Seonghwa boasting about the head you gave him."

"Is it true, Angel?" your brows scrunch together in bemusement. "I would need to know it for myself, how well your mouth takes me in."

You gulp. Audibly enough for his smirk to lilt on his lips, stretching into his cheeks. "Say ah, kitten."

He prompts you with a mocking tone, having stood in front of you now. You tilt your head up, raising it high to meet his ambiguous eyes, drifting further apart into the dark intentions of his words. Without hesitation, you slack your jaw and open your mouth; all sounds are stuffed back into your throat when two of his fingers push inside your mouth. Pressing the pads of his fingers against your tongue, he pushes them further into your throat. The calloused yet soft skin of his fingers leaves an eerie sensation on your tongue, but you gulp it down and begin sucking on them.

"So warm and soft. Can't wait to have this mouth around my cock," he grumbles, throwing his head back slightly, "you know what, kitten? Why don't you show me what you can do with your mouth. Fuck my fingers first and then I'll decide whether this mouth deserves to have my cock in it or not."

A part of you was extremely pushed into this corner of desires and arousals; it wasn't just a dream for you, and even if it was, you were living it. Did it happen every day that you'd stumble upon an innocent man, seemingly unbothered and unfazed by mere interactions around him, only to find out he's much filthy in his mind than he shows himself to be? No.

Yeosang's way of teasing and slurring his words was turning you on more than you had ever expected. You squeeze your thighs tightly for your cunt to detangle the tension it was sparked with it. Though, it only made matters much worse because your feeble actions had made the balls inside you to create tremors in the pit of your stomach. Contemplating his words, you start sucking harder on his fingers and hollow your cheeks to constrain them in your warmth.

"Fuck," yeosang grunts, peeking at you through his half-lidded eyes, "wonder why I made you—fuck, kitty—" you lap up your tongue around both his fingers, pushing the tip over and under, "—should've ruined this mouth instead of making you read a pathetic little contract."

You hum in response, the gentle vibrations stifling around his fingers. Noticing, he coos, "aww, you agree too, kitten?" his lips curl, menacing a thrill in your stomach, "hmm, I need to know if you deserve my cock, or not."

Taking that as a challenge, you become determined and suckle his fingers deep in your throat; he doesn't resist and pushes into you. There's spit leaking out of your mouth, trickling down your lips and staining your chins with perfect opulent rivulets. He's caught admiring how you had started to choke on his fingers, screwing your eyes shut to help you alleviate the discomfort. You weren't exactly put in a state of unease, but you knew you'd take some time to get used to it. Yeosang's fingers weren't as sleek or long as Yunho's. They were rather girthy and veiny, taking up the entirety of your wet mouth. He keeps scuffing them on your tongue, fingernails digging in your fleshy muscle as he drags his fingers out of your mouth. The moment he's gotten them out, you cough, urging it all from your lungs before lurching forward.

"I'm convinced," he states, licking the fingers which were just shoving down your throat a second ago, "your mouth was made to please a cock."

As the wispy tones of his words dissipate in the air, you hear the soft scuffling of his shorts being pulled down; you peek back up, ravenous gaze creeping up his feet, thighs and then to his exposed pelvis. His shorts and briefs pool around his ankles, and he takes only a meagre second to step out of them. The next thing you know, his silly little tank top is discarded next to the pile of his bottom wear. Honestly, you wondered why he even wore that nifty tank top when it covered almost nothing of his chest.

"Master..." you spluttered through your chest, scoffing up the bits of spit and drool strings coating your chin and lips. "...be a good kitten—suck you off."

At this point, your brain was a mush. A complete mess of carnality, oozing past every limit. You felt lightheaded, and it wasn't because you had been staring, or slobbering at the sight of his cock resting against his lower belly, but because of the two very prominent and pronounced balls moving on about in your cunt. Realisation hits you harder than you thought it would; the balls kept rolling and screwing you over inside, painfully edging you to your orgasm. But they never pushed you to the very end of it.

"Yes, kitty. Patience," Yeosang lulls his words, "I'm just as eager as you to ruin this pretty little thing."

You watch him, helplessly, as he uses one of his hands to wrap it around the base of his cock. He gives it a few pumps, dragging his palm along the shaft to the reddened tip. While his other hand eases up to cup your jaw and his thumb hooks into your lower lip. His fingers rest under your chin, and his thumb prods at your lower jaw; you willingly let your mouth widen.

"Be a good kitty, hmm?"

You nod, shifting yourself on your knees to crawl closer to him. The stinging ache of your bounded arms was starting to turn forgettable. It was all too sudden, easy even, to forget about the pain when you were focused on something else. Here, getting your throat wrecked by him and his cock. Yeosang's size was impressive, really impressive; you don't find any joy in comparing lengths, but he'd easily be two inches above average.

"And I heard from Jongho that you..." he trails off, tugging up at your jaw to force your eyes on him instead of his cock. "...you like staring at—is that true?"

You want to shake your head and deny his petty allegations, but his thumb hooked in your mouth keeps you from moving even an inch. He pumps his cock a few more times before aligning the tip against your mouth. Having propped it opened with his thumb, Yeosang slips into your sloppy warmth without any effort, sinking down on his hips and pulling his hand away from your mouth. You feel the stretch on your lips, not much, but it's still there to remind you how well he had stretched your mouth open with his cock.

A lowly growl peeps from his chest, and he bottoms out in your mouth; soaked in your wet and warm spit, he closes his eyes shut and bites down on his lower lip. "Let me—fuck, so—kitten's mouth is so fucking warm—fuck, kitten, let me know if I can move or not."

You don't really have any mode to indicate him you were ready; so, you push your tongue to the top of your mouth and lick up a stripe under his shaft.

"That's a good kitten," Yeosang smirks, tangling the fingers of his both hands into your hair and pulls you away. "Gonna take my cock deep in her throat, isn't she...?"

With only his tip in your mouth, you rub your tongue around it and he growls which rings out to a chuckle, "fucking hell. Seonghwa was right, this tight little thing can really take a cock in."

He starts pushing on his hips, and you willingly swallow his cock. Reaching deep enough, the tip of his cock brushes over the roof of your throat, triggering your reflex gag in an instant. You choke on your spit but continue to slug his cock further down in your throat. A moan strangles itself in his chest, his mind going numb to the tightness and the warmth of your throat. Yeosang hurls his head further back, his neck arching to a perfect curve while his eyes stay shut tight; you peek up at him, your own gaze shining with tears and innocence. A tiny fracture in time coaxes him to compose and turn his attention on you. You're stalked by his predator-like eyes, every movement, every blink of your eyes, every breath you hitched out of your nose; at a point, you were starting to suffocate on his cock.

"Good kitty," he praises, his voice startling you a bit as it turns softer and melodious. "Sucking my cock so well."

He lets his cock stay buried in your throat for a minute more before pulling back, not completely out, however. You moan in response and flatten your tongue under his shaft, keeping it unmoving for a while. Yeosang fists his hands in your hair, guiding your head down on his cock to let it plunge deep again. The pace of him toying with your head is, steady and slow, easing out every time you gagged or choked on his cock the moment it reached your throat. One of his hands disentangles from your hair and traces around your throat; his thumb pushes right under your jaw, feeling a faint bump of his cock through your skin.

"Can you feel it, kitten..." he growls under his breath, "can you feel my cock—ah fuck—can you feel my cock bulging around your tight little throat?"

You groan, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him in deeper. He gets the answer he was hoping to get; his other hand still twined in your hair, lowers your head on his cock till your nose is scrunched up against his pubic bone, his soft and tender skin tickling your lips and nose. He was well groomed.

"That's more like it," he whimpers, tightening his grip around your throat to exert an additional pressure; it constrained the walls of your throat around his cock, tensing up your muscles. "A pretty mouth for my use."

You really wished you could voice out your pleasure as well. Though, that becomes a lost possibility when he starts thrusting himself back and forth in your mouth. You keep your cheeks squeezed around his cock as the pace of his thrusts picks up. Yeosang's lips part when a hoarse moan slips past them and his eyes screw shut at the feeling. One of his thrusts falls out of rhythm and he slips out of your mouth; glancing down at you, he clicks his tongue, and you eagerly wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You lower yourself, without needing to be pushed by him. Struck with passion, he rolls his hips into your face and his cock is back in your throat, snug and warm.

When the tip of his cock brushes on your tongue, you taste a slight hint of bitterness from his precum and swallow it down. Spit dribbles out of your lips when he pulls his cock back, slithering onto your chin and further below; he clenches his jaw, the pace of his thrusts surging and continuing to be more spontaneous. He kept plunging his cock deep into your throat, kept your head steady by intertwining both of his hands in your hair. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes; his ruthlessness and roughness were too much for you to handle. You push your conscience through it, squirming in your place when you are struck by the heaviness in your cunt; the balls, they shuffled along your puffy cunt and teased a knot in your gut. Yeosang's hips rattle against your face, every time he pushed you down, your nose would get rumpled by his pubic bone and that would leave you no chance to breathe. Your lungs burned with the need in your chest, your body slowly starting to convulse to his animalistic lechery. With his every thrust, your chest would heft out, and the puddling streaks of wax would fall off your skin and onto the floor. He would go harder, he can, and he was about to; you knew it well, tears stain your cheeks and drool drips down your chin, drop by drop, eventually falling onto the floor. Clinging onto the last breath you scoured to take, you shift on your knees and the orbs fitted snug in your cunt, give your gut a little nudge to make you cum.

You were close. So damn close. It was starting to turn into a painful endeavour than pleasurable; you were gagging on his cock, strangled by his relentless and aggressive thrusts, and forced to choke on your spit because he won't pull out. Your mouth was a paradise for him, the tightness, the warmth, the way your tongue slopped under and over his shaft, it was all driving him wild. Amid his thrusts, you feel his cock twitch, indicating you he was close to his edge too.

Puffing out a guttural moan, Yeosang heaves a sigh and pulls himself out of your mouth. Sweat covers his body in a thin coat, glimmering against his skin; his hair sticks to his forehead and face, cupping around his cheeks as he pants and becomes too breathless to form words. Aching suffocation makes you cough out the spit which had been trapped at the back of your throat; your body wants to collapse; you want to lay down on the floor and roll into a ball to compose yourself. Regardless of the lethargy and stinging strain on your lungs, you look at him with teary doe eyes, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out for him.

"Such a dirty little kitty, wants to make me cum, does she?" he mumbles, a smug smile curving his lips and his hands slipping off from your hair. "Then she better fucking swallow what I give her." A mild throb nicks at your neck from being angled in an uncomfortable position, though you could care less about it; slotting yourself in the similar position as before, you shudder when he rubs the tip of his cock along your lips, and cheeks. You were lost in the ecstasy of your lewd mind, your arousal only minutes away from coming undone; the connection between your rationality and tongue had been severed, you knew you were about to spew nonsense for him.

"Want to make my master cum—make him feel good," you voicelessly utter, your breath fanning over his cock, "kitty will...kitty will swallow what her master gives her."

"Hmm, that's a good kitty," he grunts, nudging his thumb on your chin, "open wide now, kitten."

You do as he says, loosening your jaw and opening your mouth wide for his cock to slip right in. This time, he wastes no time in plunging his cock directly in your throat; his thrusts pick up the instant you start gagging on his cock, the tip submerging deep in your warmth. With his concise and sharp thrusts, your body rattles to his force and the rope shackled around your arms bites down into your skin. One of Yeosang's hands is back into your hair, though this time he collects every strand in a makeshift ponytail and guides your head on his cock by holding onto it. His other hand grabs your jaw, his fingers slamming tight across your cheeks; he presses them hard, compressing the space in your mouth to his cock.

"Ah, yes—fuck, kitten—a really good—ah, fuck, such a good fucking pocket pussy for my cock."

A few more rough and aggressive thrusts send you into a sensory overdrive, a nightmare breaking past the bounds of your mind and coming alive; you were aching with an intense urge to let go of the knot tautening in your stomach. You were on the verge of breaking down into tears and sobbing—hell, you had already started crying. Hot tears exude from your eyes, trailing perfectly down your cheeks and ending up on his fingers; your cheeks were still squished by the way. Yeosang was using your mouth quite adeptly, rutting his hips like an animal and pushing your head against his pelvis. You were so done, so tormented by the spheres clinking around in your tight cunt that you couldn't contain it anymore. You're the first one to fall apart, your body trembling to shambles and your mind fogging up with the aftermath. Your juices pool down on the floor, creating a splash with its sound resonating in the room filled with Yeosang's grunts and moans. Panting to the terrible weakness taking over you, your chest heaves up and down, erratically, your lungs screaming in need for air.

"My kitten made a mess on the floor," he grumbles, peering at the floor where your arousal, mixed in with Seonghwa's cum pooled, "such a bad kitty—fuck, such a bad kitty to relieve herself on the floor." biting back on his moans, he shudders as he continues in his raspy tone, "but my kitty did so good—pleased her master—fuck, so good—pleased her master so fucking well. She–she fucking deserves a treat."

Yeosang's cock twitches in your mouth; his eye had been fixed on your body all this while, learning every detail and habit about it. He admired your ability to gag on his cock, he liked the way your body convulsed in itself when you came, and he loves the fucked up look on your face. Sweat, tears, spit, covering every inch bit of your skin and giving it a shine; besides, your eyes, shrouded by darkness, a tinge of lust which shows how drunk you are on his cock.

"This face—ah, this fucking gorgeous face—next time, I'm taking a picture—fucking keeping it to myself to jerk off to." he's so breathless as he blabbers out.

That was the breaking point for him, your face, the stretch of your lips around his cock as he plunged in and out, and the eerie pleading in your eyes. As a sadist, he doesn't need anything else to feel him lose himself; he just needs your tears, your vulnerable moans and your tormented eyes. One more time his cock twitches in the deepest part of your throat, and suddenly warmth starts trickling down; his load floods your mouth in waves, spurting and gushing all over in your mouth.

He lets go of your cheeks and pinches your nose instead; his other hand still held you back in a ponytail, slowly and gently tugging on it to push you away so he can slip out from your mouth. When he pulls out, a few strings of spit and cum stay linked with your lips and the tip of his cock.

"Swallow." he sternly utters.

The clasp of his forefinger and thumb on your nose tightens, leaving you no choice but to breathe in through your mouth; eventually, you swallow down the entirety of his load. Bitterness of his cum makes you gag, but you still push through and once done, open your mouth wide to show him you had guzzled every last drop of him.

"Such a good little kitty," he whispers and let's go off your nose; he takes a step back and watches your body lurch into itself. You tired, catching up on every lost breath and it amused him how helpless you seemed, coughing, panting, face covered in bits of his cum and spit.

"This isn't over yet, kitten. Get on your feet." He commands in a stern voice, shaking up your body and getting you on your feet. "Sit here."

You find him standing behind the chair, his lips slightly curved. Finding his intense eyes swelter on yours, you somehow manage to stand on your wobbly legs and stumble to the chair. Instead of sitting like a normal person, your knees give in and slump down on the chair, earning an amused yet belittling chuckle from Yeosang.

"Seems like my kitty is tired." he muses with a pout on his lips, stepping around to kneel in front of you. "Don't worry, I'll take care of her."

Muttering almost incoherently, he lets a smile hook onto his face, his cheek fluffing up slightly at one side. Yeosang's eyes hold yours, keeping you arrested in the motion while you try to sit properly on the chair; the light caresses of his fingertips follow up your knees and eventually graze past your inner thighs. He spreads your legs apart, humming in satisfaction at the sight in front of him. You bloomed like a flower, your folds wet and slick; remnants of Seonghwa's cum still showed slight traces around your mound and slit. Yeosang drools, a wad of spit rolling out the corner of his lips.

"Such a pretty little cunt," he rasps, pushing himself closer to you, "a pretty pussy to devour."

The sheer waves of his warm breath ebb over your mound, shuddering your body and making you lose your mind. You throw your head back, arching your neck and lurching behind into the support of the chair. Yeosang whistles lowly, palming his hands further up your thighs and letting them rest too close to your cunt. He uses his thumbs to spread your folds apart, admiring the pretty pink flesh obscured by the limpid texture of Seonghwa's cum. Without any warning, Yeosang dips his head down, fluttering kisses on your abdomen and going lower to your belly. His lips graze your mound, and his tongue slides out, the tip pushing along your slit.

"Fuck—master, please—ah, Yeosang, feels good," you let his name slip past your lips, mentally cursing yourself at the fuck up.

Yeosang acknowledges your little mistake, by nibbling down on your clit with his teeth; it's a gentle nibble, but his teeth sink quite nicely to give you a whiplash. "Strike one, kitty."

"M'sorry," you mumble your head and close your eyes shut, focusing on the way your body had started melting under his breath and tongue.

Flattening his tongue, he laps up your slit and folds, his thumbs stretching you out and propping you open; he gives you soft licks, lapping up Seonghwa's cum. He swallows it down, whatever that he could scour from your pussy. And in a sudden rush, his tongue slithers to your hole, prodding and pushing inside. You tried to hold onto your own hands, your nails digging into the flesh of your forearms; the rope was nowhere near loosening, and that was awful already — but the urge to just tangle your hands in his hair and push his head down, was almost getting the worst of you.

"You'll have to get used to it, kitten," Yeosang huffs out, pulling away slightly only to bury his face back into your cunt; his tongue continues with the abuse, protruding into your hole and lapping up on your walls.

"I know," you breathe out, drawling on your spit and peeling your eyes open to peep down at him. "Oh, fuck," keeping your words to yourself, you stare at the man, absolutely turned on.

His head was between your thighs, his fingers pushing and stretching you out, while he devoured you like you were his last meal. You really did wish to push his head down against your cunt, help him reach to the deeper depths of your warmth. Yeosang's tongue thrusts in and out, toying with the metallic chain of the orbs which were fit inside you. The latter half of the chain dangled out; one of his hands disappears from your inner thigh and holds onto the little dangling chain, while his other hand rakes to your cunt. Giving you no time to comprehend, he slips two of his fingers inside, pushing and curling them to his pleasure and unravelling you.

The placid yet unruly thrusts of his tongue nudged the balls every time, and his fingers did too. You were already lightheaded from your prior release, but as he continued to plunge and shove, the tension for second release started building up in the pit of your stomach. To add to your arousal, Yeosang pokes the tip of his nose along your slit, pressing hard.

"Feels so good, Yeo—master," you quickly correct yourself, a heavy moan gliding across your tongue and making you bite down on your lips. "Hmmm—so fucking good." Your words are left to muffle by your clasped lips.

Yeosang takes it as a nod at encouragement and picks up the pace of his fingers, shoving them in deep and pulling them out painfully slow. His tongue curls inwards, pulsating against your g-spot.

You mewl, "yeah, fuck—right there."

Mumbling against your skin, Yeosang doesn't spare you any mercy. Finding a rhythm, he sticks to it, ruthlessly sawing his fingers through your cunt and his tongue surging deep to tighten the knot in your gut. Only a minute passes, and you clench around him; the metallic balls in you stimulate your release, alongside his fingers and tongue. This was too much, too much to bear; your body spasms one more time before relaxing and untying the knot. Easing out on the tension, your second release floods over you and forces a loud moan from you. All air is knocked out of your chest, sending pleasurable tremors down your spine and readying you for the aftermath.

You peek at Yeosang, who continued to lick and nibble on your cunt before pushing himself back; his skin shines under the limited light of the room, his nose, lips and chin are coated with a thin sheet of your juices.

"You taste phenomenal, kitten." He says, gathering himself together and composing himself on his feet. "Although next time, I'll be wrecking this sweet cunt with my cock."

Shuffling around, he drapes his tank top over his chest and pulls his briefs up; he looks around and clicks his tongue. "Ah, the part I despise the most. Cleaning."

"I don't think I'm in any shape to help you."

"Don't worry, I'll do it later. Let's get you a warm soak first."

"Seems bout right."

You're too fucked out of your mind to comprehend his words, but regardless, you heave a chuckle and close your eyes to let the silence and darkness flow through your mind. As time passes, Yeosang helps you with the aftercare; he prepares you a tub of warm water and pulls you in with him. Your back rests against his chest, while he rubs soothing circles on your thighs, lower belly and arms. Towards the end of the soak, he suggests brewing you a cup of hot tea, to relieve the soreness of your throat.

Once you were out of the tub, he pulls one of his sweatshirts over your head and offers to cuddle you. So, you spend most of your morning in the bed with him, his warm embrace sticking to you like a comforting blanket, while the two of you talk about useless things.

"So..." you trail off.

"So?" he squeaks, confused.

"Doesn't a master need to exaggerate his ownership over his slave?" you ask, biting your lip as you rest your head on his chest.

He snickers, his arms tightening around you and pulling you close, "he does. But what are you insinuating?"

"I've read it in books before, you know. How—how a master—"

"Do you mean collars and all that bullshit?" he instigates, gazing down at you. "Angel, I am not fond of the idea of showing off my possession over you. Besides, all of us here are sharing you with each other. I've always thought of it as unnecessary."

"Oh," you drawl on a breath, "I understand. It makes sense."

Reading the sulky pout on your face, Yeosang chuckles and shakes his head, "but if you want to wear my mark on your body, perhaps exhibit yourself as my slave with pride, then I can get you something."

"Really?" you peer at him, your eyes sparkling at the suggestion.

"Why not?" he muses.

"What are your thoughts on piercings?"

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#kang yeosang #kang yeosang x reader #kang yeosang x y/n #kang yeosang x you #ateez #ateez fanfic #kang yeosang smut #ateez smut #ateez x you #ateez x reader #atz #smut #kang yeosang ateez

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presidentlokis-hornyhelmet · 11 months

Note

Pavitr x reader

Reader having her period PLEASE 😚

My Little Heat Pack

Summary: It's that time of the month for you. Cue mood swings, cramps... and misunderstandings. Tags: Misunderstandings, Mood Swings, period, Pre Menstrual syndrome (PMS), menstrual cramps, Pav being a sweetiepie A/N: Sanam means smth like sweetheart or lover idk: Meri jaan = my life (pet name)

Also read on AO3

"I hate it, i hate it, I hate everything!", you snap.

It's been like that for a week now; you've been all snappy and angry and sobbing at something someone said for no reason. It was petty and you hated it but you couldn't control your emotions. It was a fucking mess.

And then, there's your stomach, cramping at the most inopportune times. It was that fucking time of the month. It didn't help you had PMS either, which made it all the more worse.

Pain flares in your lower abdomen, joining the one in your knees. You curl on the bed hugging the pillow with a heat pack on your tummy, hoping the pain goes away. The bloating and the blood flow throw your mental peace into a blender, skin feeling annoyingly hotter. The bra hurts your sore breasts and to add insult to injury, pimples had shown up!

With your lower back killing you, you just want to roll over and sleep, feeling exhausted. Moaning in pain, you reach for your phone and put on some music. At least that will make you feel better.

________

Pavitr sat on his bed pouting like a sad puppy.

Since last week you've been behaving weird and even though he only began to date you a month ago, he feels he should at least know if you were mad at him.

Were you mad at him? He had no clue what he'd done to make you upset, worried that he somehow fucked this up.

It began last Monday when he threw his arms around you in greeting.

"Sanam!", he'd yelled in your ear, trying to lift you up for a spin.

You squirmed in his arms and removed yourself with a polite smile, leaving him with a lame excuse to walk with Gayatri.

Since then you two have been sticking together. You usually do, but now it seems like you don't want him around, finding excuses to run away from him and it made him sad.

He decided to give you space, thinking you were in a bad mood. (And, in a bad mood you were). Either way, he was sure you'd feel better by the end of day.

His hope wilted when Pavitr found you looking increasingly irritated as the day progressed, as if you were annoyed with anything and everything. You were cursing more than ever! You had been lying down the whole day, occasionally clutching your stomach and when he asked, you replied you were fine, which made him more worried.

Alarms went off in his head and he grew all the more concerned when you won't hang out with him.

Why were you avoiding him? What did he do wrong?

He thought back to the last week and what he did that might've upset you, in vain. He got up, pacing in his room as a hundred scenarios ran in his head -nothing helpful. It was frustrating.

Lost, he went to find Maya aunty for advice.

_______

Music had started off good enough but right now you were in "I hate being a girl" mood, and the song currently playing wasn't much help. Rain splattering against your window managed to calm you down a little, though; you've always loved the rain.

"Knock knock."

You startle as you see Pavitr sitting on your window pane, surprisingly not wet. "Pav?", you sniff, eyes watery, "how did you-"

"Magic", he says, stepping into your room. He tenses seeing your tears tracks. "Sanam, are you crying?"

"Arcade", you explain, "That song is so sad.."

Pavitr smiles in relief and hands you a tissue, kissing your forehead after. You watch him, curious as he takes off his hoodie and reveals a grocery bag from inside it.

"I come bearing gifts!"

Gifts? Vaguely, you recall snapping at him earlier and an apology is on the tip of your tongue when the cramps come again. Fuck fuck fuck!

"Shh, it's okay, I'm here", he says in a soft tone, running his hand over your tummy. His touch is like magic and you instantly feel better.

"Wow.. my cramps stopped!"

Pavitr blushes hard at that, words abandoning him as he tries to speak. Giving up, he reaches into the bag instead.

"Chocolate? I read it makes you feel better during these times."

Just like that, your mood soars as you eye the sweets. All types -milk, coconut, strawberry, dark chocolate, a couple of snickers' and mars bars. Beneath it you find a tub of ice cream, assorted sweets and then some.

Pavitr just chuckles as you greedily munch on the candy and refuse to share.

"How did you know what to bring?", you ask when you've had your fill.

He rubs his neck shyly, "I thought I did something to upset you and that's why you won't talk to me. So I asked Maya aunty and she said about.. this... I did some googling to find out what would help."

Your heart practically melts, eyes tearing up in joy. "Aww, you're such a sweetiepie, Pav. I'm sorry to make you think that way. I didn't realize it."

"No need to apologize, meri jaan. I just want to help you. Speaking of..", he trailed, looking hesitant, "may I cuddle you? I heard it helps ease the pain."

You grin nodding and lie down in a spooning position, welcoming him. Pavitr is more than happy to oblige and wraps his arm from behind, rubbing your tummy in soothing circles. The pain in your abdomen and private parts rapidly becomes more bearable with his presence.

"Stay like this?", you plead and he grins his approval. You snuggle closer, sighing as your body finally relaxes. He really is what you need!

"Mmm.. you're my little heat pack."

Pavitr smiles seeing you slowly nod off in his arm, not ceasing his rubs when you shuffle in your sleep. He places a soft kiss on your cheek and tucks a loose strand behind your ear, amused when your lips twitch up slightly.

Pavitr smiles as his extra sensitive hearing catches you mumble his name in your sleep, cooing over you.

"You're little heat pack."

_____

Hope you enjoyed it! Reblogs & comments appreciated <3

#pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr prabhakar x you #pavitr x you #pavitr x reader #spider-man: across the spiderverse #pavitr fluff #spiderman india

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babygirl-riley · 8 months

Text

Lies Pt. 2

It’s been a few months after you quit the Task Force. You go out with friends to a dancing club, little did you know 141 would be there celebrating.

Warnings: angst, depression, anxiety, mental break downs, fluff, smut, interrupted sex :(, happy ending

A/N: Here are the people who asked for part 2! So little tag list I guess 🫶🏻 @fullmoon-84 @kerst666 I tried to do the others in the comments in part 1 but wasn’t working!

“You look good as the day I met you, I forgot just why I left you.”

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst list

pt. 1 Alternative Ending

It has been an emotional rollercoaster for you, it felt amazing to not be in the task force. Finding a small ma and pa shop to work for. However, you felt empty. You would look around your apartment to see where Simon would be. Where he would sit and drink his tea. Or hold you close in the morning. Or wrap his arms around you while cooking. None of that was there.

You wanted to call Price and ask to come back but pride came into your veins. You didn’t want to look ridiculous after the whole ordeal. That was almost 6 months ago. 6 months ago quitting the team. 6 months ago not seeing Simon. 6 months of healing.

Fortunately what came with the ma and pa shop came with friends. They didn’t know you were an SAS before, they only know the made up story of moving from the US to here in England. Throughout the time with them they would invite you out to the city, clubbing to little lunch ins.

Tonight was the night of bar hopping and dancing. It is a much needed one for sure. You wore a tight red dress, that would make out your body shape. Little short up to your thigh but it was needed. Heels and hair down. Simple make up. The usual. When getting to the bar, the air was filled with positive energy. People grinding on each other to just casual talk with drinks.

You usually don’t dance with anyone but the girls you go with. You couldn’t look at any other man without seeing Simon. So men was off the table. The first round of shots got you into the nice buzz, rocking your hips to the rhythm of each song. Laughing and dancing with your friends it was a good time.

Until one of your friends disappeared with drinks and a man. “Y/n?” Your eyes snapped open and was face to face with Soap.

Your friends looked over at you with curious eyes. “Soap?” You said hesitantly, immediately looking around.

“It’s been a while.” He hugged you tightly before smiling over at the friend. “Old co-worker yeah!”

You nodded smiling. “Yeah we used to work together.”

The girls smiled huge. “That’s fun you both knew each other.”

“Yeah,” Soap said staring. “Simon is here.” You snapped your eyes at Soap. “He’s over there.” You followed his finger towards the direction he was pointing at. There he was, sitting next to Price at the bar, back facing away.

Your heart dropped thinking of all the days and months that you had healed go into the drain. The want of talking, touching, hearing him flooding back. “He talks about ya.” He said. “Should go talk to him. We here celebratin’ but he mostly will want to talk.”

You nodded once before looking at the girls who encouraged you to go. They all scattered off as Soap dances with one of them and the other two left with each other. You slowly walked up as the fast rhythm and your heartbeat became in sync. You heard Price yelling over the music before barely looking over his shoulder to see you.

His eyes widened but his smirk was bigger. “I’ll let ya two catch up.”

Simon glanced behind him as well. His eyes dropping as he of course wore a balaclava mask. Before Simon said anything Price was gone and Gaz disappeared. You both stared at each other for a moment, Simon couldn’t believe his eyes. You were gorgeous as the day he lost you.

His hands became clammy, his heart raced, his mind frozen. Simon didn’t know what to do or say. Neither did you. You bite your lower lip trying to find something. “Uh hi.” You whispered.

Simon didn’t hear you from the music but he saw the words form on your mouth. “Come sit.” He asked gently but loud enough to hear him.

When you got closer he smelt that beautiful scent he had been missing. The musk of vanilla and trees, he wondered if it was from your perfume he enjoyed. Then he wondered if you were already with a man that loved that scent too and wore it for him. His mind couldn’t think straight, after the months he tried to heal so the you gone has been…well…not so good.

His anger would take over and his patience was thin. Especially with new recruits, eventually Price had to switch Soap and him so he could have a break from training. Sent him on short leave and missions to keep Simon occupied. Price knew that it broke Simon’s heart even if Ghost didn’t let him see that.

Yes Ghost. Ghost was the impatient and angry ball of hate. Simon was cornered into a small room trying to fight the urge to cry. To scream. Ghost had to protect Simon from the heartache. He couldn’t let Simon fall apart now, he had to be focused for the team.

Now you sat there next to him everything tumbled. Ghost was frozen as Simon poked through, Ghost trying to put Simon back into place. Simon tried was terrified, he had almost had a handle on it but now you’re here. He wanted to hold you. Touch you anything to know you are back.

“I can see you’re mad at me.” You said as a glass was handed to you.

Simon snapped his head over realizing you asked something. “‘M not.” He said shortly, smacking himself for being short.

“Right.” You said softly drinking your glass.

You saw right through him, he was hurt. In pain like you are, wanting each other but didn’t know how to handle it. Simon knew that as well, you read him better than he did himself. “Fine I am.” He mumbled shooting his whiskey back. “I’m bloody upset you left without another glance.”

You frowned, you could have given him a chance. It was just too much for you, all the heartache all at once. “I had to.”

Simon looked over at you and frowned underneath his mask. He knew that. He would have done the same thing. “I know.”

You looked over at him eyes glossing from tears threatening to leave. You looked away just as fast as you looked over at him. Complicated. It always has been complicated for the both of you. Hiding your relationship to this. You sighed. “My place is close here, we can probably talk better there.”

Simon glanced over, they could barely hear each other. He wants you back but for what cost? Simon sighed and nodded. “‘Ight.”

With that you both left, you made sure to text the girls you were leaving. One of them wanted all the details after. That made your eyes roll knowing what she actually meant. However, you know better not to play that game. The walk to your apartment was quiet, it usually was between the two of you, sharing the best company. This time though it was different, awkward silence, you wanted to say something but waited until both you settled into your apartment.

Simon was felt sad when walking in, remembering the things they used to do causally around the apartment. You took your heels off, his eyes wonder to your ass, quickly he looked away. He doesn’t need to stare, it’s been months, and who knows if you have moved on. He wondered in more looking at anything a miss or something newer.

Like a man. Clothing. Scent. Items. Only to be left with just your scent, clothing, items. His eyes landed on a bracelet on the book shelf near your door. The one that he gave you. The one that his mother wore. He reached out to grab it, holding it, he was surprised you still had it. “I didn’t want to get rid of it,” You spoke softly, making him turn. “I wanted to give it to you but…it was the only thing I had of you.”

Simon looked back down at the bracelet. The words ringing in his head, it was the only thing I had of you. He sighed quietly placing it back down. “Tea?” You asked already having a pot on the stove.

“Ya still have…” He paused watching you wiggle it in the air. He smiled softly before huffing in amusement. “Didn’t get rid of a lot did ya?”

You scoffed. “No.”

He walked over to your island and sat on a bar stool. “Why did you leave?”

You froze as you stared at the mugs for a moment. “You know why.”

Simon glared for a moment before inhaling deeply. “‘Ight why didn’t ya give me a chance?”

“Because you lied,” You sighed calmly stating the obvious. “You broke a promise that you did not keep. To protect me. Instead you hurt and lied to me.”

“Ya know better than anyone that I wouldn’t do it if it didn’t mean something.” He said softly.

“And I didn’t mean anything?” You said, noticing the venom slipping in. You winced at the statement, you knew it was rude. But how long you have been wanting to talk to him. Wanting to know everything. All the pain you had.

“You know that isn’t true.” He said his stern voice also coming through.

You turned leaning your back against the stove. “Really? I get it best for the team or the mission. But everyone Simon? Everyone knew but me and Samson. I was the only one grieving for you. Wishing I had did something to prevent it. When the whole fucking time it was.”

Simon didn’t say anything for a moment. “It was for the mission I had to in order to get Samson out. So we could get closer to the Russians, sometimes we have to sacrifice things in our work.”

You laughed rolling your eyes. “Sacrifice things? No this was not a sacrifice this was a hoax, a mock. That’s how it felt. You all used me for my feelings, you all knew that it would have broke me. So why did I not give anyone a chance because I can’t go through that heartache again!”

He stood up once your voice raised, Simon shook his head. “It was never a hoax! It was never meant to be a hoax!”

“But it was,” You said standing your ground. “You may not want to accept it Simon but it was. Instead of stating that it was wrong you make it a valiant effort for the team!”

“Ya right I make it so bloody valiant for everyone! I didn’t care ‘bout how ya felt! I didn’t try to beg Price not to do it over and over,” Simon was now out, all the pain and feelings that he had suffered came flooding out. He ripped his mask off throwing across the room. “I didn’t stop ‘em from hurting ya! I didn’t walk in when you wailed! I didn’t…”

Your ears rang, watching all the emotions leaving Simon’s body. Your heart broke, you didn’t think that he would say or even show the feelings. You reached out to place a hand on his cheek, feeling your anger being cooled as you watch him flinch.

Simon didn’t expect you to touch him, especially when yelling at you. He has never yelled at you. He stopped talking feeling your soft hands on his stubbles cheek. He was heaving a bit, didn’t realize that tears spilling from his eyes. “I’m sorry.” You whispered once it felt like hours of no talking.

Simon sighed closing his eyes, he shook his head. “I should be s’rry, I left you behind.”

“We left each other behind.” You whispered again walking forward placing your other hand on his cheek. He grabbed both of of your wrist closing his eyes. The feeling of warmth radiated through his chest as you stroke your thumbs across his cheekbones.

“I never meant to hurt you.” He whispered as you stood on your tippy toes. Kissing his tears that started to fall.

“Shh.” You whispered as his hands fell to your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him close. Your noses touching each other softly. “I never wanted to either Simon.”

You both stared at each other, he glanced at your lips. Both of you slowly moving ever so closer to each other. You begged for him to kiss you, to place his lips against yours. Feeling each other’s feelings, show each other how much you missed each other. “Can I kiss you.” He whispered.

You nodded once as he closed the gap as his kiss gently pressed against yours. At first it was soft gentle. Like it was the first time you both kissed, then his hands squeezed at your hips. You brushed your tongue along his bottom lip, begging for access. He opened his mouth and next thing you knew if you both were clawing at each others clothes. Mouths fighting for dominance, teeth clashing, lip biting.

He backed you into a wall as he hoisted you up to give a better access to your neck. Simon sighed as he bite your neck before kissing it softly. “I missed you, I missed you so fucking much.” He whispered grinding up to your clothed cunt.

You gripped his blond locks. God how you missed him, his touch, his voice, fuck his kisses. You both grinding on each other like fucking teenagers, gripping areas. “I need you Si.” You whispered as his hands rolled up your dress up to your lower abdomen.

Simon smirked as he looked over you. “We got to take this,” He started to push it up more moaning as he noticed your breast had no other covering. “Let’s take this off ya?”

Before you knew it, he wrapped his hands around your back before tearing the back. You gasped. “Simon! This was my favorite.” You snapped laughing as it fell to the floor.

His eyes looking over your body as he placed your legs down. “I’ll get ya another one,” He started to get to his knees, softly scraping your hips to your thighs, then your ankles. “But first I am gonna treat ya.”

You bite your lower lip has he rubbed his hands up your thighs, kissing your inner thighs. Sloppy messy kisses. He bit hard into your thigh causing your eyes to roll. “Stop teasing.” You whined holding his hair.

Simon smirked, god how he loved hearing that desperate tone. “Yes ma’am.” Your eyes rolled as his tongue made a strip from your needy hole to your clit.

You groaned out lifting your leg over his shoulder as he helped you, placing it gently before making circles on your skin. He moaned as he licked your cunt slowly. “Fuck how much I missed your taste lovie.”

You sighed as one of his fingers probed your entrance. He pushed his middle finger inside of you, goood how he wanted to cum right there. He could tell that you were tight and he thought how his dick would feel inside you right now.

And god how you forgot how his fingers felt, without his cock it made you feel whole. He started to slowly pump his one finger in and out of you before adding the second one. You gasped as he sucked on you clit making you basically squeal with delight.

Simon looked up at you, watching your back arch, eyes rolling back, your hips grinding on his mouth. It was like he was in a dream, god the noises you made for him made everything stir inside. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” He mumbled slurping your juices as he watched it slowly drip down his wrist. “I missed ya, fuck. Taste so fucking good.”

The words were going straight to your core, you started to reach anywhere on him. The coil in your stomach getting tighter and closed for your release. “Fuck Si don’t stop please please please please!” His fingers pumped harder and faster, hitting that fucking spot that made your toes curl. His lips sucked you clit as you screamed his name over and over again.

Simon moaned as you gripped his hair and stilled as your orgasm hits you hard. You kept gasping trying to recollect yourself, your mind hazed, your body buzzing with delight. You heard Simon slurping your release, making you moan. Your ears were ringing and the tea pot…

The tea pot! You snapped your head over to the pot that was screaming for someone to grab it. You quickly detached your leg from his shoulder as his hand pressed against you abdomen. “Let it scream love.” He kissed your thigh, you chuckled leveling down with him.

“Simon Riley saying to leave the tea alone,” You teased, watching his eyes, which was blown with lust and love. You kissed his lips tasting yourself on him, swiping your tongue in his mouth. “Let me set it aside and then we take care of you.”

#simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost #simon ghost x you

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forlovvers · 4 months

Text

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ get a guitar!

pair: heeseung x f!reader | genre: uni!au, strangers2???, meet cute | warning(s): profanity | wc: 800 | synopsis: in which heeseung is absolutely floored by you and decides a little white lie won’t hurt to gain your attention.

lynne’s notez🗒️: first heeseung post did anyone cheer

heeseung sat on the bustling train, jay’s guitar case nestled between his legs to keep it from sliding everywhere. jay is the only person he’d know to forget his guitar on the big day of his music presentation. he fondles with the worn out handles, absentmindedly tapping his fingers to the beat of the song playing through his airpods.

another person squeezes next to him on the train seat and heeseung really wishes he would’ve just ubered. that thought is instantly wiped from his memory when someone taps him on the shoulder and he turns to see you. the wind is knocked out of his lungs and heeseung swears the angels start singing when you make eye contact.

you’re so pretty heeseung feels the need to reach out to touch you to make sure he’s not dreaming, although you certainly are dreamy. but he does not do that, instead, heeseung plucks his airpods out and gives you his full attention.

“do you play?” you ask, gesturing to jay’s guitar case. there’s something about you that makes heeseung become at a loss for words, so he nods without a second thought— even though he can’t play for shit.

“cool, i’m headed to my music comp class right now.” you grin, showing him your guitar case. it’s denim and theres a sanrio character keychain that hangs from the zipper. heeseung can’t remember which one it is, but he only thinks about how it slightly resembles his friend, jake.

“do you have a favorite guitar?” you ask. once you notice the confusion across his face, you clarify. “like acoustic or electric?”

“oh yeah, i mostly play acoustic.” he manages to get out. “what about you? what do you prefer?” he asks, unconsciously leaning in towards you to hear you better. the busy train was not getting in the way of his chances with you. he’s close enough to smell your perfume and count the freckles on your face, but he stops himself. he’s nearly planning your wedding and yet he doesn’t even know your name.

“i play acoustic too,” you say, liking that you two already have something in common. you look up and realize that you’re one stop away from your class, a small puddle of disappointment filling your gut. you couldn’t even talk to the cute boy on the bus in peace.

you clear your throat, “my stop’s coming up.”

“oh.” it seems like cute bus boy is also disappointed because his lips flip into a tight frown before he tries to cover it up with a light smile. “let me walk you to your class,” he quickly offers.

“are you sure? do you have somewhere you need to be?” you ask hesitantly, not wanting to get in the way. the boy shakes his head, brushing off any of your concern. once you’re sure, you agree and let him walk you to your class.

campus is much more beautiful than usual today. you aren’t sure if it’s the nice, sunny weather or the cute boy walking next to you to one of your favorite classes. either way it looks like your awful week is looking up.

the walk to class is filled with silly questions and short conversations about each other but you don’t necessarily mind. you reach your class and stop slowly in front of it. “so i guess this is where we part ways?” you say, watching as he shoves his hands into his pockets.

“oh yn, thank god you’re here!” jay comes from out of the class, interrupting your moment with the cute bus boy. jay smiles at the bus boy and quickly grabs the guitar case from him and thanks him. he then turns to you, “do you wanna practice before we go up?”

“wait a second,” you look back and forth between the two. “that’s your guitar?”

“yeah why?” jay grabs the other end of the case and shows you the name tag where he’s messily written his full name.

“okay, you can head in. i’ll be there in a sec.” you tell him and although theres many questions turning in jay’s head, he shrugs it off and goes in anyway, shooting heeseung another “thanks bro.”

“so, you don’t play the guitar?”

“i guess i just wanted to impress you.” he admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his nape. he can’t seem to look you in the eyes. you aren’t sure if its because he’s embarrassed or shy, either way he’s still cute unfortunately.

“you can make it up to me by taking me out for dinner tonight,” you decide finally and the biggest grin breaks out across heeseung’s face.

“i’ll learn a song on the guitar and serenade you too,” he suggests, grinning ear to ear. long story short, heeseung very much serenaded you that night.

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4rcaneye · 6 months

Text

paring: jack harlow x f!reader

summary: there’s always been a spark between jack and his hometown friend. will tonight be the night to change all that?

tw: smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP GIRLIES), p in v sex

word count: 1,584

you were one of jack’s best friends growing up in louisville. he was coming back home for a performance and invited you backstage to watch. now you’d always had a thing for jack, but it just never seemed to work out between the two of you. mostly because you were afraid to ruin the friendship that you’d built. tonight you were scared that those feelings from childhood would come back to haunt you.

you watched on the tv backstage as he performed his last song of the night. you couldn’t help but admire how good he looked. he had on his signature wife beater and gray pants. the way his shirt hugged his toned body was enough to drive you wild.

he finished his last song and thanked the crowed before he headed on backstage. you felt your heart skip a beat. you weren’t sure if you could stay composed with him looking this good.

you heard the backstage door creak open and jack walked over to you.

“hey ma.” he said smiling as he pulled you into his arms.

you’d always loved jack’s hugs. they were intoxicating and always left you wanting more. he made you feel like nothing else in the world mattered but the two of you.

“hey.” you said smiling as you pulled away from him. “you were really great out there tonight.”

you meant it. you’d always loved listening to him just do his thing. you were one of his biggest supporters growing up. the two of you used to drive around listening to beats and jack would freestyle. music was always so important to him and it made you so happy to see him get to do what he loved.

“thank you pretty girl i really appreciate it.”

he said flashing that gorgeous smile that he’s so famous for.

pretty girl?

your mind was spinning. this man had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it.

“oh of course.” you stammered out trying to regain your composure. “you know how much i love watching you perform.”

“well i’m glad you enjoyed it.” he said smiling. “it’s so great to be back home i really missed you.”

“i missed you too j.”

a comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you stood looking at each other.

“well i’m going out to the club with urban and the boys after this if you wanna come?” jack said breaking the silence.

“oh i don’t wanna ruin your night by tagging along.” you said with a sigh.

“but i want you to come.” he said grabbing your hands with a smile.

he was always so good at this. making you feel like you were the only girl in the world when you knew that wasn’t true. jack had many women at his disposal, and you weren’t really in the mood to see them throw themselves at him at the club.

“it’s late j.” you said. lightly rubbing your thumbs over his soft skin.

“so?” he said challenging you. “it’s friday you don’t have work tomorrow.”

he was right.

you also knew that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“ugh fine.” you said with a fake dramatic sigh.

“YES!” he said doing a little victory dance that made you laugh.

“well come on let’s go before i change my mind.” you said as you walked out.

* * *

you arrived at the club with jack.

you couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine. you were overly aware of how short your dress was. it didn’t help that jack’s hand rested on your lower back leading you through the crowd.

girls were fawning over him and saying the wildest things as you walked passed to the vip section.

jack pulled you in close. “don’t listen to them. i only want you.”

only want me?

there was always tension between you and jack but tonight was just a different level. you didn’t know how to respond to him so you just dismissed what he said.

“okay well..let’s go dance. i didn’t come here to not have fun.” you smirked.

once the two of you hit the dance floor jack grabbed your hips and pressed you up against him.

surprising? yes. unwelcome? no. you didn’t mind feeling his chest on your back or the way his fingers dug into your hips. you liked that you could hear him singling along to the songs and the way his lips brushed over your ear.

you two spent the whole night together and you had a really good time with him. one thing was for sure, jack really knew how to party.

* * *

as you were leaving the club, you realized that there were more people with you than when you came. you turned around to ask jack what you should do.

“you can just sit on my lap ma it’s fine.” he said as if he read your mind.

he put his hand on your lower back and led you toward the car giving you no time to protest his idea. you didn’t know if you could handle being so close to him after all that happened at the club, but it was too late to back out.

* * *

the car started and you instinctively draped your arms around jack’s shoulders.

his hands snaked up to your waist pulling you even closer to him.

“so where are you sleeping tonight?” jack whispered playfully into your ear.

“i don’t know, where do you want me to sleep?” you replied confidently.

“mmm preferably in my bed.” he said slightly squeezing your waist.

“oh i know you would love that.” you said rolling your eyes.

“no i really don’t want you to go home.” jack said seriously. “i want to spend more time with you.”

you wanted to chalk it up to drinking at the club but the truth was that both of you were sober. jack really meant what he was saying and you weren’t sure you could resist.

“okay we can cuddle for a little bit. only for a little while though j and then i have to go home.” you said softly running your fingers through his curly hair.

“okay.” jack said gently looking up at you with his big blue eyes.

* * *

you arrived at his house and jack gave you some comfy clothes to change into.

in the back of your mind you knew you weren’t going home. i mean how could you? you were all cozy in his clothes and he was treating you like a princess.

“come here y/n.” jack said motioning for you to lay in the bed with him.

you crawled in and settled into his arms. reveling in how warm he was and how safe he made you feel.

you turned around in his embrace and now were faced with his crystal blue eyes. something got into you and you were feeling very bold.

“you know..” you said reaching up to run your thumb over his lips. “you’re really pretty.”

jack chuckled and slid his hand down to your waist squeezing it every so slightly.

“i’m glad you think so.”

oh god you wanted him so badly in this moment.

he looked so perfect. the way his hair curled, his eyes, and his full lips. the way his arms and chest looked in the wife beater he had put on for bed. he was irresistible.

jack pulled you in even closer to him.

“i want to feel you.” he whispered quietly in your ear.

it hit you what he meant and your brave bravado was starting to crumble.

“look..” jack started pulling you into his lap. “we don’t even have to do anything i just want to be close to you.”

your fingers danced around the hem of his boxers as you sat in his lap slowly moving your hips in a circular motion.

“then get close to me.”

taking that as his green light, he carefully took his shirt off of you. you felt goosebumps as his fingers gingerly ran across your skin. next came your bra. once it was off he left open mouthed kisses on your chest causing you to moan.

the sounds you made where music to jack’s ears. he loved knowing that he was making you feel good. he wanted to be the only person that made you feel good.

“lift your hips for me baby.” jack asked before taking your panties off.

you leaned in to kiss those pink lips of his and he started to massage your clit. moaning into the kiss you reached to pull his cock out not wanting him to have the upper hand.

jack watched as you gave him a few tugs and swirled your thumb around the tip. you sat up on his lap and guided him inside you causing you to both moan.

“i know baby i know.” jack said as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck kissing you. “you’re doing so well.”

his cock was splitting you in two but it felt so good and you just couldn’t stop. jack was running his hands up and down your back in an attempt to help you relax. you felt your eyes growing heavy as you listened to jack’s heartbeat and breathing. it was very calming and it felt good to be with him like this.

“shh ma i got you.” jack cooed in your ear. “go to sleep.”

#jack harlow smut #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow

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patrophthia · 1 year

Text

cruel summer | regulus black

pairing: regulus black x reader

genre: fluff, song fic, love confessions (?), regulus is a attention seeking piece of shit (affectionate), clingy reg, not beta read

wc: 1.1k

this is request ! i’m sorry it took so long, i hope you liked it!!

tag: @tr4ppola

Your favourite pastime activity was lying. Little white lies, that is, lies that were so obvious that everyone knew not to take them seriously. Like saying you were a muggle whilst you cast a complicated spell, or saying that you had once dyed your hair a colour that you swore to never do, or saying that you were —in no ways, involved with Regulus Black whatsoever.

Sneaking around though, was on the other end of your favourite things to do. You like Regulus too much so you let that factor slide through.

It's as if you only ever see him during the quiet nights where no one could ever spot you. You know that that isn't how a normal relationship should function but the red flag tends to look white when you look at it through rose tinted glasses.

More often than not you feel like you earned him, a (semi) bad boy who was wanted by everyone in school. He was a shiny toy with a price and you know damn well you bought it.

The meeting spot is different this time, a room within a room in the room of requirement. He'd only told you to meet him at the room of requirement at ten and you showed up right on time only to be met with confusion.

In front of you were a set of doors, circling around you as you stood over stained glass rings, blue merged with pink then pink into purple where the centre of the room was. Instead of figuring out how to find him on your own, you call out to him, "Regulus?"

"Down here," he replies, you look down onto the glass pane and furrow your brows when he is nowhere to be found. "Stand at the centre, sweetheart."

You do as you were told, watching as the glass dips under your weight; you can hear the mechanics working, it unlocking steps for you to take. Once you finally meet Regulus, you cock your head to the side with a teasing smile. "An oddly complicated way for just a booty call."

Regulus frowns, "this isn't a booty call, ma chérie." He moves towards you, and you let him place his hands on your hips. "I just missed you."

You roll your eyes and Regulus thinks that while the devils may roll their dice, he was sure angels spend their time rolling their eyes at him and his behaviour. But then again, what doesn't kill him makes him want it more. And you were just that.

Opposite does attract after all.

"You shouldn't miss me so often," you fixed him a look. "My friends are starting to suspect where I go so often."

It's his turn for Regulus to roll his eyes, albeit more elegant and poise then you ever did. "This is your fault," he groans, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "We wouldn't have to be doing this if you just told everyone about us."

Regulus had decided to keep your relationship a secret at first, wanting to test the waters and after the first few months went smoothly. So smoothly that he'd found himself smitten with you. He wanted everyone to know, he knew that it was weird for him to claim you but he'd like people to know that he wasn't willing to share.

But you think a lot, way too much at times, and decided that no, you do not want people to know about the two of you. Because, you wanted him all to yourself, you liked him too much for other people to know.

"I'm sorry, my love," you say first, a hand reaching up to brush back his outgrown curls. "I promise it won't be for much longer."

Contrary to popular belief, Regulus Black was a clingy person, so touch starved and clingy that you pressed a kiss on the top of his head for good measure.

He stills for a moment, obviously planning something before he presses a kiss to your neck and pulls away. "Would you still love me tomorrow?"

"What?" You splutter, confused on why he decided to bring tomorrow up. "Of course, I do."

"Thank you, mon amour. I love you too." He says before asking. "My game's tomorrow, you're coming to see me right?"

"I always do," you tell him and he smiles. "Why are you asking me this?"

He makes a face. "Just trying to make sure my girlfriend won't run away before my plan unfolds."

Slytherin were losing, and the longer you watched Regulus not even trying to seek out the snitch the more you realised that he was throwing the game on purpose.

You stood up from your seat in the stands and found your way to the railings. "OI! BLACK!" You call out and he turns to you distractedly. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THE SNITCH IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU."

He turns away, looking uninterested. "I can't see a thing, sorry."

You were starting to get annoyed now, confused on when Regulus had gotten this kind of attitude but you chopped it up to how being dramatic more often than not runs in the Black family.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" You yell, your voice loud despite the hundreds of others also yelling the same thing at him —albeit with a little more colourful words than you were using. "WHY AREN'T YOU PLAYING?"

"I want you to tell them," he says instead of answering your questions. You're a bit confused on how you can still hear him over the sound of support from the other where their Seeker was actually doing the job. "I want them to know."

"KNOW WHAT." You began to yell when it dawned on you. He wants you to tell everyone about your relationship. "ARE YOU CRAZY?"

He shrugs. "Do you want me to win?"

Knowing how pouty he could be if he didn't, you steel yourself for what's to come next. "REGULUS BLACK." You yell and you can see the other team's seeker dive towards the snitch. "I DON'T WANT TO KEEP SECRETS JUST TO KEEP YOU FOR MYSELF ANYMORE."

The crowd goes quiet, waiting to see the scene unfolding before them. Of course it was another Black brother hoarding the attention all to themself, creating a scene as they stole the spotlight from everyone else.

So you prepare yourself, screaming for what it's worth. "I LOVE YOU. AIN'T THAT THE WORST THING YOU HEARD DURING A GAME?"

The other team's seeker loses sight of the snitch, audibly gasping at your confession towards his rival. The snitch continues its way around the pitch.

"NOW PLAY THE DAMN GAME SO PEOPLE CAN KNOW HOW COOL MY BOYFRIEND IS."

The snitch finds it way a few feet above Regulus' head, you want to laugh at how this was playing out. The snitch was just invested in this as everyone else.

The snitch holds his spot and everyone watches with bated breath because, one, the game seems like it was nearing the end, and two (the much important reason they were watching) was that they wanted to see how Regulus would react.

His eyes look up from his broom and meets yours, it took him a few seconds before he broke away. Looking up, grinning like a devil at his now second prized possession (with the first being his chérie of course).

He reaches his hand up, easily snatching the snitch with a breath-taking grin. He clutched onto the snitch tightly, and a second wave of anxiety hit. What if he'd mistaken something else for the snitch amongst everything that had just happened?

Finally, Regulus unclasped his fist, letting the snitch hover above his palm. And as the game officially reaches its natural ending. The announcer's voice started up.

"It looks like Black has gotten the win this round," the announcer says first, their tone playful. "And would he be a black brother if he didn't get the girl as well?"

And then, since you had always been outgoing, so outgoing in fact, that everyone in the castle knew of you and your habits. So just to be sure, the announcer adds, “this isn’t one of your lies right?”

You can’t help but smile at that, Regulus had always found your smile infectious so, naturally, he found that it was useless to even try hiding his smile from you as he awaited your answer.

“Why would I lie to you about this?”

— from bee: i hope you liked this! and is what you’d imagine when you’d sent in the request! feed backs/reblog/notes are appreciated!! :]

#regulus is a cutie #regulus black x reader #regulus black x yn #regulus x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black fluff #regulus black imagines #regulus black x female reader #regulus black scenarios #regulus black humor #regulus headcanon #Spotify #🧳: my writing

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