I’ve Been Seeing A Lot Of Anti-Nazi Ones, Which Is Great, But I Felt Like We Needed One To Show Our

The gentle love between two doves

Character: Reggie Mantle x male reader

Universe: Riverdale

Warnings: Suicide, murder. Just, all in all, read at your own risk. Very sad.

Reggie’s stride no longer had his almighty confidence. His eyes watered and lost their usual mischievous twinkle. The thick black hair he has always been proud of hangs in his face: all shine gone. His eyeballs were red from crying, and his face was sunken.

Everyone who saw them could only pity him. He had brought this upon himself. If happiness wasn’t enough to keep him safely in the hands that nurtured him with love after the beatings he got from his father. What else could keep him at one’s side?

He walked the corridors of the schools. Every laugh reminded him of his love, the one person he could always count on, who gave him life whenever dark thoughts clouded his mind. Each passionate voice triggered memories of heated arguments that could only be resolved with equally heated kisses.

Nobody dared to look into his eyes. Those who knew the reality looked at him with pitying glances, but for those who didn’t just look away in hatred for him, the wish that everything should be different was strong in their eyes.

His heart ached for the love he once received. But he destroyed it, jumped on the heart that once could do nothing but smile. 

Nobody knew, not even Reggie himself. Although he should have, whenever his eyes averted from his love, for a split second, he could see the smile he so adored disappear. A cold, sad expression replaced the warm, friendly one he had become so much accustomed to.

In the end, none of your hours-long conversations gave him any clue to what might happen. Now the world was cold and empty after breaking the one person he vowed never to hurt.

He could only walk to class slowly, afraid of the judgmental eyes of his teachers. But before he could reach that place, a girl he barely knew gave him an envelope without saying a word or looking at him.

Confused, even irritated, he opened it without a second guess. Shockingly, it was a letter from you. Your perfect, rounded handwriting, which should never have been archived, gave it away. To confirm, he smelled the paper. Mahogany, as always. You always bathe your letters or even small notes you gave him with this scent. In your words: “Everything I love smells like mahogany!”. You even gave him perfume with this scent to show how much you love him.

For a very brief moment, a smile appeared on his suffering face. However, everything changed when he read it. His tears, which had dried for about an hour, flowed again. Tear after tear fell on the letter. A kind of confession, an explanation for many things. Even for your untimely death by your own hand.

Anger grew in him again. Not this time at the thought of your selfishness in doing that one thing that couldn’t be restored, but of himself and his idiocy. He’s never seen the pain behind your smiling eyes, never questioned the silent tears that sometimes randomly rolled down your cheeks, and never wondered about the strange sores that sometimes appear on your skin.

You told him everything that happened and that he was a reason for you to live on, hoping to work through your problems with a lot of therapy in the future. Until then, you would plan to bite through your pain. But then everything fell apart when the book was found, and Reggie could no longer deny it.

But you also told him that he wasn’t the reason you did it, but breaking up with him took away a cause for you to keep going through the mud of your existence.

However, what Reggie broke was the main reason you did it. It made him hate himself even more that he had never suspected anything like this.

Then suddenly, a thought came to him. He hurriedly threw away his backpack after taking out paper and a pen. Just to run out to his car, where he wrote a letter himself. Also, a letter of confession explaining everything about how the book came about. His parents’ abuse, the pressure he was under, and their even stricter rules after he came out to them. His father even went so far as to send him to a conversion camp. He then forced him to have intercourse with women until he could do it without any help and only did it with women. At least, that is what he let his father believe.

He wanted to tell you everything once you both finished school and were out of this hell hole. Not once was he mad at Betty for making it public they all deserved it. But he was angry at himself, disappointed that he never told you, in particular, because he knew that you would’ve understood and would’ve helped.

At least he could do one thing right. He drove to Betty’s house and knocked on the door, which her surprised mother answered. Reggie gave her both letters without many words and asked her to write a story about them, but only tell the truth.

As he walked away, she began to read, tears streaming down her eyes as her hand cupped her open mouth. Reggie looked like a ghost behind the wheel the last time she saw him.

Later that night, the news broke the tragic story of a young man who killed another man by driving him into a tree, killing both of them on impact. Before the investigation could be completed, Betty’s mother came out the next day with your and Reggies story, Reggie being the one killing the man the day before. It attracted all media attention.

In addition to the written statement from him and you, he also gave her his mobile phone. With all your chat logs, even some recorded phone records that he secretly took of the two of you, but most important were the pictures, the thousands and thousands of pictures.

She later wrote a book about your love story, which began when you met on a playground, where you hit him with a plastic toy. Instead of crying, he took it from you and hugged you. You two were made for each other, and everyone could see it. Even Reggie’s parents confirmed this after the public backlash they experienced, which they could never escape. However, your parents took their own lives shortly after your older brother’s misdeeds, which you described in your confession letter, were proven true. However, before they could reap the consequences of their actions, in this case doing nothing about their elder son’s misdeeds towards you, even though they knew what was going on, they took the easy way out. It was he that Reggie pinned against a tree with his car.

Betty’s mother later wrote an entire book about the love you shared with Reggie and stuck to the truth as Reggie wanted her to do.

It triumphantly topped the best-seller charts for over a decade, made several films and even a decade-long series, with the help of Betty’s mother, who gathered all the information and built your story of how it would have happened if you had gotten out of this town.

It didn’t stop people watching after Season 3 when the announcement was made that it would all be fiction from that moment on, considering both you and Reggie were already dead.

Betty’s mother even built a mausoleum in your honor, far away from the town you both had died in, at a place you both wanted to move to, where the earth is always green.

Each year, hundreds of thousands of couples, widows, and everyone in between visit your mausoleum, bring you their own stories and share the love that could never be as pure and strong as the two of you shared. Many had rightly deduced that you knew of Reggie’s actions all along but just wanted to bite the time until you both could put it behind you after leaving that rotten town and therefore had even more respect for you.

But once it became public knowledge, there was no hiding. Now pain-free, sleeping peacefully next to the love of your life, you were happy. For the first time in your existence, you were happy.

The day Reggie arrived at your soul’s resting place, you ran into his arms in tears. He apologized so many times, in response, all you could do was kiss him and lead him far into the distance where the two of you could live the life you two ever wanted, with no more tragedy, just the love story you both.

[Masterlist]

? // roberto ferri // mothering by ainslie hogarth // rainer maria rilke // ? // planet of love by richard siken // a self portrait in letters by anne sexton // indian summer by ron hicks

ⓘㅤ 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐌 ⠀⠀( 你将是我的！)

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 “ ✉. Being an exotic dancer can have its perks, making the bar owner obsessed with you is one of them.

⠀،،⠀Genre. ’ Suggestive, fanfiction, drama, Mafia! Heeseung x Stripper!malereader.

( 𝒄/𝒘. )───Alcohol, drugs, half-baked sex, blood (mild).

The club was at its peak, lights flickering across the space as bodies swayed to the rhythm of the music. Among them, one figure stood out—[...]—whose lean frame and hypnotic movements drew every gaze. He wasn't just another dancer; he was a living work of art, though he always kept an emotional distance. His job was to dance, nothing more. He wasn’t the type who sold himself for a few hours or minutes. If they wanted his company, they’d have to settle for watching, because his body was his own, and it wasn’t for sale.

Even so, he couldn’t shake the weight of Heeseung’s gaze from the VIP section—a stare that seemed to burn from across the room. It was impossible to ignore. Heeseung had a presence that consumed everything around him, like a predator surveying his territory. His striking face, chiseled jaw, and dark eyes made him stand out even more. But what truly made him intimidating was the effortless control he had over everything around him. As he smoked his cigarette, shirt slightly unbuttoned with a silver chain glinting under the dim light, he seemed to command not just the room, but the situation itself.

[...]—flirty but always mindful of his professionalism—continued his routine, his movements perfectly calculated to captivate but never invite anything more. It was a delicate game, one he knew how to play. Every spin, every glide of his body along the pole was a statement: "You can look, but you can't touch." But when his eyes met Heeseung’s, something shifted. That man had a silver tongue, one that had likely brought down people much tougher than [...] was used to. And worst of all, Heeseung knew it. He knew [...] noticed him and relished the power it gave him.

When the show ended, [...] stepped off the stage with the same grace he had climbed onto it, his eyes locked onto Heeseung's. He knew this moment was inevitable. He had watched Heeseung for weeks, aware that this man wasn’t like the other patrons who frequented the club. Heeseung was dangerous—not just for what he could do, but for what he represented. A man like him didn’t just have money and power; he had the ability to destroy lives with a smile.

Heeseung rose from his seat in the VIP section and approached with the same calm demeanor that defined him. Every step was measured, as though the world revolved around him. When he finally reached [...], he wasted no time.

“How much for the night?” he asked, his voice smooth but firm, as if he already knew the answer. His gaze never left [...]’s, not for a second.

[...] met his eyes, knowing that anyone else would have crumbled under his game, but not him. He couldn’t afford to fall so easily. Even though Heeseung tempted him with that silver tongue and overwhelming presence, [...] wasn’t the type to sell his body. Not for anyone, and certainly not for money.

“I don’t charge for my time—just for my dance,” [...] replied, his tone playful but firm, making it clear he wasn’t for sale. His smile was a double-edged sword, teasing but with enough distance to let Heeseung know he wouldn’t be easy to get.

Heeseung smirked slightly, as if he had expected that answer. His eyes narrowed as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, and the air between them grew heavier. “I’m not interested in what you charge, [...]. I’m interested in you,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the noise of the club. “And trust me, it’s not about the money.”

[...] kept his composure, though he felt the pressure of that gaze. He knew Heeseung wasn’t the type to take no for an answer easily, but he also knew how to handle these situations. His body was his business, and no one was going to claim it.

“Heeseung, you’re the kind of man who always gets what he wants, aren’t you?” [...] said, his tone teasing but measured. “But there’s something you need to understand. I’m not part of that ‘everything’ you can snap your fingers and get.”

Heeseung’s smile widened just a fraction, as if he was enjoying the challenge. He took a step closer, invading [...]’s personal space without hesitation. “I don’t bend for anyone, [...],” he said, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. “But I’ll give you a chance to reconsider. I’m not a man who waits around too long.”

The tension between them was palpable. [...] may have been flirting with the idea, but he knew Heeseung wasn’t like the other men he’d dealt with. This man was determined, serious, and behind those dark eyes, there was a world of danger that [...] couldn’t even begin to imagine. And yet, there was something about Heeseung that pulled him in—something that made him want to know more.

[...] smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Two hours. That’s all you’re getting. If that works for you, great. If not, I’m sure there are others who’d be happy to dance for you.”

Heeseung held his gaze, never breaking eye contact. “Two hours will do for now,” he said, his tone low and controlled. “But trust me, it won’t be enough for either of us. There’s more between us, and you know it.”

As Heeseung stubbed out his cigarette and stepped back, [...] couldn’t help but feel like he had just entered a game far bigger than he had anticipated. A game where Heeseung always seemed to have the final word. But one thing was certain: [...] wasn’t about to give in so easily, no matter how tempting this man was—the man who, with a smile, could burn the world for the right person.

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The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension when [...] finally walked in, making Heeseung wait over thirty minutes. It was deliberate—every second of delay was part of the game, a way to stretch Heeseung’s patience even further.

Dressed in something bold and borderline obscene, yet undeniably elegant, [...] sauntered toward him with slow, calculated steps.

The room—an exclusive, high-end suite known as the Crystal Room—was built for moments like this: low lights, velvet couches, and an unavoidable air of intimacy. It wasn’t like the other club rooms, this was reserved for the high rollers, the VIPs who craved a more personal experience. But tonight, [...]’ focus was locked onto his sole audience: Heeseung.

Heeseung lounged on the couch, watching him, his presence as commanding as ever. In one hand, a crystal glass of whiskey, and between his fingers, a cigarette that he lazily brought to his lips every now and then. His white shirt was undone just enough to reveal his chiseled chest, a silver chain dangling over his skin.

His piercing gaze had never once left [...] from the second he’d entered the room.

“Made me wait, didn’t you,” Heeseung’s voice was low and gravelly as he tilted his head slightly, taking a sip of whiskey. His eyes glinted with desire, but there was an edge of frustration too.

[...] smiled, knowing full well the effect he had on him.

"I just wanted to make sure you were ready for what's about to happen," he teased, his voice dripping with seduction as he moved with fluid grace through the room.

Slowly, [...] began his routine, spinning around the pole in the center of the room with movements that left little to the imagination. But it wasn’t just the dance that captivated Heeseung—it was the way [...] shed his clothes, piece by piece, each move a promise of passion.

First, he undid his leather jacket, letting it slide gracefully to the floor. Then, in one smooth motion, he pulled off his tight shirt, revealing his sculpted torso.

Heeseung’s gaze darkened, and he shifted in his seat, spreading his legs wider as his fingers played with the rim of his glass and the buttons of his shirt.

[...] could feel the shift in the air, the way the tension built with each step. His hips swayed slowly, his body arching, drawing closer to Heeseung only to pull away again. The game was clear—the seduction, the tease, the unspoken promise between two bodies that craved each other.

Heeseung, for his part, couldn’t stop readjusting in his seat. With a slow gesture, he began loosening his cool, his eyes never leaving [...]’ form. "You're killing me, you know that?" he muttered, undoing more buttons, exposing his entire chest.

[...] smirked as he spun around, letting Heeseung take in every angle. "Killing you? I thought you liked a little foreplay," he teased, though his eyes remained sharp, focused.

Heeseung let out a dry chuckle, his fingers undoing the last of his shirt buttons, fully revealing his toned chest, that silver chain catching the dim light.

“You know damn well what you’re doing,” his deep voice dripped with desire. "But come here... I don't want you dancing so far away."

Before [...] could respond, he felt Heeseung’s strong hands grip his waist, pulling him onto his lap. The contact was electric, their skin brushing as Heeseung’s breath became heavier. “Dance here,” Heeseung commanded in a tone that left no room for argument.

The contact was immediate, and the heat between them grew almost tangible. [...] slowed his movements as he settled on Heeseung’s lap, feeling the tension in the mobster’s body as he let out a soft groan.

“That’s better,” Heeseung whispered, his hands roaming over [...]’ hips, tracing his body with a mixture of possession and admiration. "Right where I want you."

As [...] moved slowly on him, Heeseung closed his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the feeling of having him so close, his usual control slipping away bit by bit. His hands traveled up [...]’ waist, over his back, until they reached his shoulders.

[...] met his gaze with a seductive smile, grinding slowly against him, creating a friction that only made the tension between them grow. "You like that, huh?" he teased, enjoying the rare vulnerability he saw flicker across his client’s face.

Heeseung’s eyes opened, locking onto [...]’, and for a moment, everything else faded. The room was silent, save for the soft music playing in the background, heavy with unspoken promises.

“It’s not about liking it,” Heeseung whispered, his voice a mere breath as his hands cupped [...]’ face, giving his cheeks a firm squeeze. “It’s about the fact that you’ve got me wrapped around your finger. Completely.”

The heat between them was building with every motion. [...] continued grinding on him, his hips moving slowly on the dominant’s lap, each brush a reminder of the rising desire.

But despite the closeness, there was an ongoing power struggle—a silent game where, no matter how much Heeseung tried to dominate, he couldn’t hide his vulnerability in front of the man who had him hooked.

Heeseung let one hand slide down [...]’ back, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone with his reputation.

“Quit playing games with me,” he whispered with a dangerous smile, his eyes a mix of frustration and hunger. “You know how badly I want you…” His breath was hot against [...]’ ear, causing the dancer’s skin to tingle.

Feeling the intensity of the moment and the growing ache between his legs, [...] leaned forward, his chest brushing against Heeseung’s, his breath hovering just over his neck. “Then why don’t you take me, boss? If you want me that bad…” The challenge in his voice was clear, but so was the invitation.

Heeseung’s gaze darkened, becoming even more intense as his hands gripped [...]’ hips firmly.

“You’re too damn good at this, shit..” he growled with a crooked smile, pulling him closer, eliminating what little space was left between them. “But I’m done playing... tonight, you’re all mine.”

Heeseung held onto [...]’ waist with a possessive grip, his fingers digging into his skin as the brunette’s heart raced even faster. The room felt charged, each passing second deepening the tension. Heeseung’s eyes dropped to [...]’ lips, darkened with desire, and with a sudden decision, he closed the gap.

The kiss was rough, desperate, a crash of lips that had been waiting too long. There was no gentleness, only a raw, primal need that had been building throughout the dancer’s teasing.

Heeseung grabbed [...]’ face with one hand, his thumb pressing firmly against his jaw, holding him in place. The kiss was intense, as if Heeseung wanted to claim every inch of the boy mouth, a hunger he could no longer contain.

The mobster’s tongue skillfully invaded [...]’ mouth, drawing a soft moan from the dancer as Heeseung’s lips moved with more wild urgency, the taste of whiskey and nicotine flooding his senses.

[...] could feel his own body reacting with a growing need, his hands finding their way to Heeseung’s shoulders, clutching at his shirt as the heat between them swelled, unstoppable.

Heeseung let out a low growl, his lips never leaving [...]’, as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Every movement was ravenous, like he wanted to devour him whole, and with every passing second, the control he prided himself on was slipping away.

His fingers trailed down [...]’ back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake until they reached the edge of his pants. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you,” he murmured against his lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to whisper those words before diving back in.

[...] could hardly think, his body trembling under Heeseung’s dominance, feeling the growing pressure of the mobster’s arousal beneath him. His mind clouded with desire, overwhelmed by the way Heeseung kissed him, touched him, made him feel like the only thing that mattered in the world at that moment.

Heeseung’s hands, quick and confident, slid lower, gripping his ass firmly. The touch made [...] gasp, his body instinctively leaning closer to Heeseung, craving more of the fire that consumed them both, burning hotter with each passing second.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

The room was filled with fragmented sounds,

[...]’s muffled moans blending with the steady rhythm of their bodies colliding.

Heeseung had taken complete control of the situation, his body moving with a wild precision as he thrust into [...] again and again, showing no mercy.

The stripper's body quivered under each thrust, his skin tingling, marked entirely by Heeseung's fingers digging into his hips and buttocks, leaving clear reddish traces that would take days to fade.

[...] lay on the bed, his chest pressed against the sweat-soaked sheets, his hips elevated in the air, fully presenting himself to Heeseung. His hands tried to grip the sheets, but he could barely hold on as every movement from Heeseung made him lose any semblance of control over his own body.

He was completely disheveled, his hair plastered to his forehead, and his skin flushed a deep red, a testament to the pleasure consuming him.

Heeseung, on the other hand, was focused on every movement, his gaze locked on how his cock plunged in and out of [...], marking him deep within, claiming him in a way that left no doubt about who was dominating at that moment.

“Look at you… taking me so well,” he growled through clenched teeth, his hands gripping [...]’s ass harder, pulling him apart with a force that only heightened the pressure and pleasure. “No one else will have you like this… only me.”

[...] tried to respond, but the words slipped away. He could barely form coherent sounds; his moans mingled with broken gasps, and every time he attempted to speak, all that came out was a faint stutter from his own lips.

His body was so sensitive that each thrust left him breathless, his mind completely clouded by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him.

Heeseung's movements grew more aggressive, his rhythm unyielding as he pushed deeper and deeper into [...], harder each time. The sound of skin slapping against skin grew louder, echoing with each wave that rippled across the passive's flushed cheeks, resonating in the room.

[...]’s muffled moans became sharper, his body unable to contain the impact of each thrust, his nails clawing at the sheets as he felt his mind unravel under the pressure.

“I'm going to fill you… until you can’t think of anything else but what we did tonight, how this ass took my cock...” Heeseung murmured in a deep voice, leaning over [...]’s body, his hot breath colliding against the stripper's sweaty back.

Heeseung took one of [...]’s hands and slid it down the side of his body, squeezing one of his glutes tightly, eliciting a stifled moan.

The sensation of Heeseung's touch, combined with the marks he left, made [...] feel completely possessed, invaded by an overwhelming wave of desire he couldn’t ignore. Every time Heeseung’s fingers sank into his skin, it felt like the heat inside him intensified, as if the fire burning between them would never extinguish.

The rhythm quickened, and [...] could no longer hold back; his climax had arrived once more. His moans turned into a constant echo, his body trembling beneath Heeseung as he filled him again and again.

His mind was lost in pleasure, every fiber of his being focused on the intensity of the thrusts, on how Heeseung claimed him without reservation, without mercy.

Finally, when the climax seemed imminent, Heeseung let out a low, deep grunt, gripping [...]'s hips tighter, moving with a brutal rhythm as he pushed one last time with a depth that made him groan in pure ecstasy.

[...]’s body tensed, his back arching from the pleasure of being filled. His mind went blank, his legs shaking from pleasure as his breathing became erratic, releasing soft sobs.

Heeseung, still moving, leaned down to gently bite the skin of [...]’s shoulder, leaving one last mark, a final claim over his body.

"You’re mine, forever," he whispered in a low voice, his lips brushing against the chestnut’s ear as they both collapsed onto the bed, their bodies exhausted yet satisfied, illuminated by the dim light of the moon that still enveloped them.

After a few minutes, Heeseung slowly withdrew, his breath still heavy as he pulled out of [...] with one last deep sigh.

As he exited him, the wet sound and [...]’s faint whimper made him smile with pride.

He watched as the boy’s hips sank heavily onto the bed, too weak to hold themselves up after what they had shared.

[...]'s skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, the muscles in his back taut and trembling as Heeseung gazed at him, utterly pleased.

His eyes drifted downward, darkening even further as he noticed his seed slowly leaking from [...], sliding down to his balls. The sight before him was living proof of his dominance, a testament to how he had marked and claimed the boy’s body during those hours when he had pushed him to his limits again and again.

Heeseung's smile widened, tinged with a mix of perversion and satisfaction at seeing the result of their wild passion.

“You look gorgeous like this, completely filled with me,” he murmured in a gravelly voice, his warm breath caressing the nape of [...]’s neck as one of his hands glided gently down his sweaty back.

He caressed the curve of his hip, making sure to feel every trembling muscle, every trace of exhaustion he had left on his body. “I can’t help but smile when I see you so wrecked... knowing I was the one who left you like this.”

[...], exhausted, could barely move. His body trembled with the remnants of pleasure and painful bliss coursing through him, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

Every muscle ached, every part of him marked, not just by Heeseung's hands and lips, but by the brutality with which he had put him into positions he had already lost count of. His mind was foggy, barely aware of where he was.

During the nearly three hours they had spent together, Heeseung had explored every corner of the room. He had flipped [...] over the sofa, pushed him against the wall, laid him across the center table, and finally returned to the bed, each time with overwhelming intensity.

In each of those moments, he had brought [...] to the brink of ecstasy, only to stop just before he could fall, prolonging the pleasure until the dancer's body could no longer withstand it.

[...] let out a low moan as he tried to move, but his body didn’t quite respond. His back involuntarily arched as Heeseung’s trembling hands still caressed him, now with a softer touch, as if savoring the calm after the storm.

The marks from the thrusts still throbbed on his skin, and he felt the heat inside him starting to cool, though the sensations remained as intense as moments before.

Heeseung, still wearing that arrogant smile, watched as [...]’s body surrendered completely.

“You’re beautiful like this... completely mine,” he murmured, leaning down to gently kiss the base of [...]’s back, right where the marks from his hands were still visible. “There’s not a single spot in this room where I haven’t taken you... not a corner I haven’t fucked.”

[...] could only nod weakly, his breathing labored and his mind lost in fatigue. Exhaustion was overwhelming him, but he still felt the echo of pleasure in his body, a constant reminder of what had just happened.

Heeseung slowly lay down beside [...], watching as his body still trembled slightly from what they had just shared. With a cigarette perched between his lips, he took a deep drag, letting the smoke drift through the dimly lit room.

[...] lay on his side, palm pressed against the bed, eyes closed, barely able to move, his body spent after hours of intense passion.

Heeseung exhaled slowly, observing how the stripper weakly shifted, his marks visible on every inch of his skin. His fingers gently brushed against [...]’s back, tracing soft lines on his skin, provoking a faint shiver.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Heeseung asked in a low tone, stroking his body with an unusual tenderness for someone like him.

[...] let out a soft “Mmh...” in response, too exhausted to formulate words but making it clear he was still aware of every caress.

“I hate you...” [...] murmured, his voice weak but filled with satisfaction. “Look what you’ve done to me... my whole body is covered in marks, I can’t even move properly.”

A wider smile spread across Heeseung’s lips, letting out a low, husky laugh. “You hate me? A few hours ago, you couldn’t stop saying how much you loved it when my cock was inside you and how big it felt,” he shot back, his tone playful but satisfied. His hands squeezed [...]’s hips tighter.

[...] rolled his eyes, hiding a smile at the corners of his mouth. “Mmh…” was the only response he could muster.

Heeseung regarded him with calculating eyes, relishing the control he had over him. "What a hypocrite..." he whispered, his voice laced with a teasing tone as his fingers glided down the curve of [...]’s back.

[...] let out a shaky sigh, too worn out to argue, too caught up in the moment to fight against the pleasure still coursing through him.

Heeseung continued to watch him in silence, his hand grazing [...]’s skin with a gentler touch this time, as the tension in the room began to ease.

Heeseung broke the silence again, his tone turning serious. “I want you to stop dancing.” His words were direct, shedding the softness of their previous intimacy. “I don’t want anyone else to see you. I want you to be mine and mine alone.”

[...] slightly widened his eyes, though he didn’t respond immediately. Heeseung pressed on, never breaking eye contact. “I can give you everything you want. You wouldn’t need this job anymore... If you want it, I can give you the whole world.” His fingers continued to trace the young man's skin, his cheek flushed from the agitation of the past few hours.

[...] merely smiled, letting out a soft sigh, shifting slightly closer to the taller man’s touch, though it was clear he was listening intently.

“You really... Would you really give me everything?” he murmured, his voice weak but curious, his eyes squinting again from the tender caresses he was receiving, fighting to stay awake.

Heeseung nodded slowly, though [...] didn’t see him. “Everything you want... Just say the word.” His tone was almost hypnotic as he continued to soothingly stroke the weary boy's face and body.

The room fell into silence after that, filled only with the gentle sound of [...]’s breathing. Heeseung watched him sleep, his expression softening as he kept caressing him, waiting, fully aware that [...]’s answer would take time to come.

“Just think about it.”

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ݁⠀⠀،،⠀⠀메모 ! ㅤ⸻ㅤ I honestly just wrote this idea while listening to this song by Amaarae. Although I didn't think I would add smut either... anyway, I'll do the second part later.︐⠀📍⠀

⠀𝒊. ⠀─⠀ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara⠀𝄒

. . . ₍⠀아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>⠀₎⠀ ִֶָ

˖⠀⠀ ݁⠀©⠀،،⠀If you liked it you can like, follow me or reblog!!

Tbh this isn’t how I exactly look like but it’s how I want to look like and sadly I can’t right now :(

Personally as a kid I wasn’t the most happiest but I’m getting there slowly as a transmasc.

But oh well 🤷🏽

New picrew chain idea: yourself vs what you looked like as a kid

Free for anyone to join in

Link

anybody got a good ao3 male reader like long fanfic recommendation? Like im talking about 10 chapters because every time i try to search I just find 1 chapters and i don’t know how to not get one chapter stories on ao3. 😭😭

Good shit 👌

I NEED A TASTE OF YOU (not proof read)

Fetishizing She/Her, She/They, Females DNI

Murdoc x Male reader x 2D (Seperate)

Smut Headcannon

Blood Kink, Marks, BDSM, Smut, Fluff

MURDOC

- Murdoc definitely seems like a person who would be rough in bed. He’s possessive wanting to claim you so people know your his.

- This man would totally bite you and have bite marks, scratch and hickeys all over you and you make you flaunt them. But I also feel like he would like a few hickeys and scratches on himself in return.

- Holy hell is Murdoc into BDSM? Yes, this man would have you tied up on the bed post dominating you. You’ll be crying with pleasure and be begging for his dick.

- He’s a huge tease especially if you’ve been a bad boy, It would be to the point that you have a cock ring on while he’s railing you from behind. He would fuck you dumb and you’d like it.

- I feel like he’ll have a blood kink but only if your into it and if you are expect a lot of cutting. But he would still be caution to not cut too deep or on a vain or something.

- Good thing about this man is that he has a soft spot for you and the aftercare you get spoiled. A bubble bath with him while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. Rubbing your back the next day while treating you with breakfast in bed and some cuddles while watching shitty horror movies while laughing.

2D

- 2d is a softie and would be soft in bed. He would always check up on you if he thinks he’s too rough.

- He is a GOD in bed, this man is slow but sensual, he’s defiently a dom in bed but would 100% let you be a power bottom and just ride him on some days.

- If you want to do something kinky he would gladly like marking with a ton of hickeys alll over your body like your neck, chest, ass, just spots where people can see and spots where he personally can see.

- One of 2D’s favorite thing is to just eat you out like a goddamn lollipop and he enjoys the faces and moans you make while he does it. He would ask for you to just sit on his face and just suffocate him to death with your ass.

- 2D’s blow jobs are to literally die for, he goes down on it. He’s just majestic in made and he fucks like a GOD. Like honestly he gives your more pleasure during sex basically meaning he likes to give rather than receive.

- 2D’s aftercare is something to die for like this man would spoil you and apologize if he thinks he went too hard on you. Expect a lot of cuddles, a heated blanket, and more cuddles. He wouldn’t let you lift a finger for anything and he’ll do anything for you. A glass of water? Already got it right here. Cookies? Yes. And that’s all he would do for you

Original

I wouldn’t mind honestly

KSKSJSLSKSKLASIIS OKAY GENOS-

I'D NEVER SAY NO TO U 🤚

Tagging: @kingkyoujurou @presidentmonica @laudthingcat @kampfkuchen85 @cherrykamado @bxbycake @happygoluckyalexis @tonaken + anyone who wants to <3

Well, this is awkward

*Leaves*

Yup, it is

*Leaves as well*