#YOU SHOULD NEVER LIFT YOUR HAIR THAT MUCH IN ONE NIGHT I AM BEGGING YOU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starryevermore · 10 days

Text

the house of snow (16) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: coriolanus gets to enjoy you.

word count: 1,725

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, oral (f receiving), fluff, pet name (petal)

Coriolanus picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and carried you to his room. Your room, he decided. To hell with these separate sleeping arrangements. He was not going to let you out of his sight ever again. All of this time apart only made you more anxious, made more uncertain of his feelings for you. If he had to be attached at your side for the rest of your life just to remind you that he cared for you, he would do it. He would do anything for your love.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips. You kissed him harder, as if you could taste his love if you tried hard enough. “I love you than a thorn loves its rose.”

“Are you the thorn to my rose?”

“I am whatever you wish me to be.”

Coriolanus kicked the bedroom door behind him and carried you over to the bed. He set you down on the edge, then dropped to his knees. He reached up your skirt, grabbing the edge of one stocking and pulling it down, then the other. Your hand gripped his hair, pushing him closer to where you wanted him to be.

“Patience, petal,” he laughed as he removed your underwear. “I want to enjoy this as much as you do.”

He pushed your skirts up, leaving you fully exposed to him. He had half a mind to rip the dress right off of you, but that could wait. He truly did want to enjoy this. You had finally opened up to him, told him your worries and your fears. Coriolanus wanted to reward you for that. Wanted to show you that all would be well if you trusted him.

You let out a whine as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses up your beautiful, plush thighs. Ever since your wedding night, he had been craving your legs wrapped around his head. If you had continued to ice him out, he would have dropped to his knees and begged for your forgiveness in the only way he knew might get you to respond to him. This was better, though. For you to open yourself up to him.

When he finally reached your core, he couldn’t hold back any longer. Coriolanus wrapped his lips around your clitoris, giving it a harsh suck. Your hips lifted off the bed, grinding down on his face. Your hand, still gripping his hair, tugged harshly on his roots. A moan escaped his lips. Oh, yes, this was exactly what Coriolanus wanted. His pretty little petal behaving so good for him, letting him worship you as if that was all he was made to do.

Coriolanus wrapped his arms around your hips, urging your legs to rest on his shoulders. He felt your ankles lock together, one of your heels digging into his back. Perfect. You were so perfect, so responsive to him. “I love you,” he said as if it were prayer before he pushed his tongue in.

You were so fucking wet for him. He had barely done anything, and yet you were dripping. He collected your juices on his tongue, savoring the taste, committing it to memory. Though he planned to spend every night for the rest of his life between your legs, he never wanted to forget this. If he should ever lose his brilliant mind, if he should never be as intelligent as he is now, he wanted to remember what it felt like to eat your cunt like it was his favorite meal.

“Coryo, ah—” you cried out, tugging harder on his hair. “Too much—”

No—not enough.

Your thighs trembled. You were so close. Coriolanus swiped his tongue along your clit, moaning as you closed your legs around his head, trapping him there as you chased your high. They only slackened after you came undone with a shout. He pulled away, pressing another kiss to your thigh, before sitting back, admiring the mess you had become.

“I love you, petal,” he said.

You offered him a sleepy smile. “You keep saying that.”

“And I will keep saying it until you believe it.” Coriolanus crawled up your body. When he laid over you, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “And I will keep saying it long after.”

“I didn’t know you could be so sweet,” you confessed.

Coriolanus huffed out a laugh, then kissed you again. “Only for you. Everyone else can think what they wish of me.”

You reached up, carding your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered shut. He loved how much you touched his hair. Could he make you play with it forever? What would his advisors think if he demanded you attend every meeting with him just so you could pet his hair? “You don’t mean that. You don’t become king by letting people think whatever of you.”

“No, you don’t become king like that. But when you are king…The only thing that could get you removed is doing a piss poor job. And we both know that I’m too brilliant for that.”

You giggled and pulled him down for another kiss. “So egotistical,” you tease.

“I’ve earned it. I have an intelligent, beautiful wife. I am clever. I am King. What else could a man dream of?”

You hum, sliding your hands down his chest. You pull at the end of his shirt, untucking it from his pants. Coriolanus’s brows pinch together. “I am sure you could dream of a few things.”

He says nothing, watching as you move to undo the buttons of his shirt. But when you move to push the fabric off his shoulders, he stops you. “What are you doing, petal?”

“I…Did you not do…that, because you wanted to make love?” you asked.

Coriolanus shook his head. “I ate your cunt because I wanted to.” You looked away. He put two fingers under your chin, guiding your gaze back to him. “Were you only going to fuck me because you still think its your duty?”

You blinked up at him. “My mama said that a wife should make herself available for her husband.”

“That might be the case in her marriage, but it will not be in ours. I will only, as you say, make love to you if you want it as much as I do. I will not, I cannot, settle for anything less.”

“But, you’re a man.”

“So?”

“Aren’t men supposed to want these things?” you asked. “My mama said that men only care about their own pleasure. Why should it matter what I want?”

“Am I like other men, petal?”

“Well, no.”

“Then why should you think I would be like them in this regard?” Coriolanus paused. He sat up, resting on the backs of his legs. He took your hands, also pulling you into a sitting position. “Is this why you ran on our wedding night? Because you didn’t want me to force you?”

You looked away. He tried to chase after your gaze, but you were stubborn like an ox. “I didn’t know I could bleed from it. I thought…I thought laying with you had made me unable to discern pleasure from pain, and that terrified me.”

“Oh, petal,” Coriolanus cooed. He pulled your head against his chest. You relaxed in his hold. “All women bleed from their first time. It has nothing to do with pain. Did I hurt you that night?”

“No.” Your voice was muffled against his chest.

“I want you to tell me if I ever do. I only want to lay with you if you are enjoying it as much as I am. More than I am, preferably. ” Coriolanus titled your head up so that he may look into your eyes. “Do you understand? I…I will admit that I may have forced you into this marriage, to a degree, but I don’t want any part of your love, of your affection to be forced.”

Your eyes searched his. Oh, how he wished he could read your mind. He wished he could worm his way inside, figure out why you think the way you do. Had he not made his intentions with you clear? Had it not been so obvious that all Coriolanus wanted was your love? Perhaps he had spent too much time slithering his way to the top. Perhaps he forgot what it was like to show someone his hand.

Coriolanus pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, my pretty petal. You consume me. And I hope that, one day, I can consume you in the same way.”

You were silent for a long moment, your eyes still searching his. Were you trying to read his mind like he was for you? Were you trying to peel back the layers of his brain, trying to find some hidden deception? You wouldn’t. This was the most honest Coriolanus had been in a long time. “What if I told you, you already do?”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, petal.”

“But I do mean it. You confuse my thoughts. I spend every moment trying to understand you. When I wake in the morning, I wonder how you’ll change my perception of you. When I go to bed, I let myself believe that you truly do love me. That it’s not all some façade you’ve crafted to marry a perfect Queen. When I dream, I let myself be that Queen.”

“Petal…”

“I don’t know that I can say I love you,” you admitted, “but you make me feel things I could never dream of feeling. You consume me. You say you burn for me…I don’t think I knew light until I began to know you, truly know you. If that’s love, I don’t know. But you have wormed your way inside me, and I don’t think I can ever let you out.”

Coriolanus combed his fingers through your hair. “Then don’t.”

You sucked in a breath, leaning into his hand. “I won’t, but only if you hold me.”

“Yeah?”

“I deprived you, us, of that on our wedding night. I don’t think I would like to do that again.”

“Whatever you wish for is yours.”

And as he laid back, and as you settled yourself in his arms, Coriolanus decided that this was the happiest he had ever been.

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

136 notes · View notes

teaandransacking · 1 year

Note

In response to the Lockwood x reader smut I think that the “we might die tonight” concept is good thank youuuu

Hi! I hope you like this.

fever dream high in the quiet of the night

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x female reader ~ Words: 1600 ~ content: heavy petting, swearing, sexual tension

a/n: let's agree that Lockwood is 18 or over for the purposes of this fic, ok? ok thanks.

The room is very still around you.

You wish Lucy and George were here, but they’re back at Portland Row, recovering from rapier wounds. Barely a scratch, Lucy insisted, but Lockwood won’t have anyone working unless they’re at full health.

That should count you out, really. You’re never at full health around him. He’s as distracting and frustrating as he is magnetic. You could just as likely kiss him as punch his stupidly handsome face. Most of the time you think you’d choose to do both simultaneously.

Lockwood eventually shrugs off his coat. You’re in the third (?) sitting room of this manor house in Surrey, waiting for the clock to strike seven. That, according to your clients, is when the Visitors arrive. It’s quarter past six - you’re always early, and for once, Lockwood is, too.

“Getting comfy, are we?” you snark.

He folds his long body into the armchair, and you have to resist looking at his lap. You could easily curl yourself up on it.

He lifts one shoulder in a half shrug. “We should rest while we have the chance. We’ll need our strength later, especially with our reduced numbers.”

You swallow. “Yeah. We’ve got this, though.”

He meets your gaze and nods one, decisively. “We’ll do admirably.” He stretches, and you almost miss it - the tiny wince that passes over his face.

He’s still in pain from the gunshot wound.

It was months ago, but-

Your throat goes tight to think of it. How you and Lucy and George closed ranks around him. How his eyes seemed so dim when he finally opened them. How limp he was.

You must make some sound of disquiet, because his eyes narrow and as always, he sees too much. “Are you all right?”

“Fine.”

He smiles, a little. “I’ll allow that I don’t know a huge amount about girls, but I do know when when they say fine like that, they’re far from it.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “You’re a massive hypocrite, you know that? You force Lucy and George to stay at home and rest, and meanwhile, your shoulder isn’t even fully healed.”

Something flashes across his face - vulnerability or pain, you can’t tell. “It’s fine.”

“Oh, and now who’s insisting they’re fine when they’re not?” You hiss, stalking over to him.

He stands from the chair, his face murderous. “You do not get to be in charge here. It’s my name on the door. I am responsible for all of you.”

“Yes! A job that, might I remind you, you cannot complete if you are dead!”

The word comes out in a sob and, startling yourself, you crumple against him.

His arms come around you instantly, and he gently tugs you down into the chair, urging your legs up so you are curled in his lap. You panic for a second but manage to arrange your rapier so it doesn’t stab either of you.

“You have a fucking death wish, don’t you, you prick,” you try to snap, but the seeing as you’re half-crying, the words don’t have the desired effect.

“Believe it or not, I fear death much more these days, now I have the three of you,” Lockwood says softly, pressing a kiss to your hair.

You freeze, and something in the air crackles.

You’ve never been alone together like this before. There’s always someone else in the house, or you’re walking somewhere - Tesco, Arif’s shop - and suddenly the yawning pit of need that constantly lives inside you around Lockwood opens its maw and begs.

“Can’t you just stay home just once?” you murmur into the soft, clean cotton of his dress shirt. “Just stay safe, for fucking once.”

“I’d be a pretty poor agency head if I did, darling.”

It’s the first time he’s used the endearment and it turns everything inside you to liquid.

You lift your face and see that he’s gazing down at you, his dark eyes lust-blown, and he’s so tempting and so close. You slide your hand up his chest, cup his cheek. “Every time we do this, we court death. And I don’t want to die before we’ve had the chance to live.”

He inhales sharply at your words, and then his hands - warm and rapier-callused - cup your face and he captures your mouth a kiss.

It’s soft and sweet at first, then hungrier, deeper. Your tongues tangle. He tastes of bergamot and marmalade and it’s both exotic and comforting, and his mouth is pliable and delicious. You have limited time, so despite the fact you could kiss him for hours, days, you want more.

He makes a sad little sound when you break the kiss, and that alone makes you want to dive back in.

Instead, you shift upwards, move to straddle his lap. When you next look down at him, his gaze is fixed on you, his eyes as black as night. He looks at you as if you personally hung the moon and every single star, and it’s heady, these feelings he always stirs inside you.

His hands slide down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his, and oh. He is definitely as into this as you are.

His throat bobs as he swallows, and then he says, thickly, “Dreamed about this. Being near you. Like this.”

Your heart clenches. “Me, too,” you admit. You glance at the door. You’ll have to go out there soon. Endanger your life. Lockwood will protect you with his. You know it without a doubt.

“Hey,” he begins, and then he whispers your name in that low, buttery smooth voice. “Just be here with me. Don’t think about anything else.”

You almost snark back that he finally has a good idea, but this moment is perfect. You don’t want to ruin it, so you dip your head and kiss him, let your hands start to work on the knot of his tie. It slides through your hands, silky smooth, and then you’re deepening the kiss, plundering his mouth while your slip one, two, three of his shirt buttons through the tiny eyelets, then spread your greedy palms over the smooth, warm skin of his chest.

He groans into your mouth, and it’s a powerful thing, to rob Anthony bloody Lockwood of words, but then you find that any possible clever quip is stolen at your own mouth as his hands burrow under your jumper and cup your breasts through the bra. You arch into his touch, and he mutters something like “perfection” against your lips as he caresses you.

You grind into each other on the wide, soft armchair. He’s hard where you’re soft, and the pressure is exquisite. Impatient, you reach behind yourself, under your sweater, to unclip your bra, and when Lockwood feels the cups release and your bare skin against his, he swears, low and guttural, and making him come this undone makes you feral for him.

He pushes the hem of your sweater up, breaks the kiss, and then sets a hand under your bottom, urging you up so he can put his mouth on your breasts. His face is just a little rough from half a day’s stubble, and the tiny hurt grounds you as he lavishes attention on one breast and then the next, while the push and pull of pleasure makes you dizzy. You fist your hands in his hair, and it’s warm and silky.

You arch your back, pressing into his mouth, and all you can think is yes and don’t stop, and he doesn’t. He is nothing if not thorough, but then it’s not enough, and you’re impatient, every iota of you on fire. You unsnap your jeans and almost rip open the buttons, taking one of his hands from your chest and shoving it right where you want it.

To his credit, Lockwood is a fast learner - he can’t have become the UK’s youngest agency head for nothing, you suppose - and he finds your clit after a only few fumbles, quickly learning which movements make you cry out and press into his hands.

You’ve wanted this for so long that you’re soaked, and it doesn’t take long before that tell-tale sensation begins to coil in your belly.

“Say my name,” he murmurs against the curve of your breast. “Please.”

And he circles his finger over you twice more and you come like that, squirming against him, breathing his name - his first name - and he sighs as he works you through the orgasm, until you’re shuddering from it.

You drop a kiss on his forehead, and you’re about to ask if you can return the favour, find out what he likes, how he tastes, Christ that’d be hot - and the clock strikes seven.

Lockwood withdraws his hand, pulls your jumper down.

“This is not over,” you whisper.

He flashes that megawatt grin. “Not by a long shot.”

And reluctantly, you break apart and get ready to face whatever is behind the door in this old house.

But you’ll do it together.

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood and co fanfiction #tumblr request

663 notes · View notes

deathmetalunicorn1 · 11 months

Note

Yandere Apollo with Boa Hancock!reader. Apolo is interested in reader and she rejects him but this doesn't stop him.

-You were stunning, beautiful, you were the moon to his sun! Your radiant confidence in your looks and your skills as a leader were both so attractive, you were truly a queen!

-However, you were also very, very popular. Men and women alike adored you, worshipping the ground you walked on but you ignored them, treating at least the men like they were beneath you, while you were softer on women, showing Apollo what a kindhearted woman you were!

-You were also insanely powerful, an incubus tried to hit on you, begging you to be with him, “Please my queen, I’ll do anything!!” your roundhouse kick to his face, turning half of his head into stone which started to crumble away startled many around you.

-You set your feet apart, one hand coming to your hip while the other lifted and you bent over backwards to look at the sky, looking down on him, “Don’t speak so casually to me, you trash. I am an empress, not a mere queen!”

-Apollo looked at you as if you hung the stars in the skies for him, head over heels in love with you, but noticed that you always refused anyone who were bold or brave enough to ask you out.

-Of course, Apollo knew it was because you just hadn’t found the perfect man…yet!

-When he first approached you, a giant bouquet of the most gorgeous red roses, kneeling before you, “My beautiful Empress Y/N, would you become to moon to my night sky?” you kept walking right on by, “Don’t talk to me.”

-He froze, turning pure white in shock, even his roses turned white, stunned that you snubbed him- Apollo- so easily!

-He was quick to bounce back to try again, but every single time you rejected him, not even bothering to look in his direction. But with each refusal he only grew more and more enraptured with you.

-Apollo did his research, following after you carefully, as he had been almost spotted by that snake of yours numerous times, he learned the things you liked, what skin and hair care products you liked, flowers you were fonder of than roses, he wanted to make you fall for him by showing you how attentive he was to your needs.

-He then started up again, approaching you with your favorite brands, trying to win you over with presents and trinkets, but you could see the look in his eyes, it was much like the look in other people's eyes, a look of want.

-You would not be swayed by this god, as he didn’t have your heart, and when he approached you again and was actually bold enough to grab your hand, he only barely dodged your kick that took out a brick wall with ease, fury in yours eyes.

-He took that interaction that you didn’t like to be touched, but of course you wouldn’t, you were perfection! And nobody should be able to touch perfection!!

-That is…until he saw you with Sasaki Kojiro, a man much older looking than you, and Apollo froze, seeing you look like a pure maiden, blushing cutely, looking away from Kojiro while holding your cheeks, your eyes were bright and the smile on your face was so genuine that Apollo fell in love with you all over again!!

-Fury built up inside of him like the flames of the sun, seeing you actually holding Kojiro’s hand, little hearts surrounding you like you were head over heels in love with him.

-Apollo couldn’t understand it, what did you see in Kojiro that he didn’t have, Apollo was handsome, any woman in Valhalla would do anything to be with him! Kojiro was goofy, not at all elegant, he was covered in scars, while Apollo was the peak of perfection from top to bottom!

-WHY DID YOU WANT KOJIRO AND NOT HIM?!?!

-Apollo was infuriated, seeing you look so happy with another man; however, he wasn’t upset at you, never at you, you could do no wrong.

-His anger shifted to Kojiro, the man who took you away, he felt his blood pressure rising, glaring at Kojiro. He inhaled deeply as his eyes closed.

-Kojiro needed to go, but he couldn’t do anything with you around, or you would get upset with him, and Apollo wanted you to come to him for comfort when you found your ‘love’ dead.

-He needed to be careful.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror kojiro sasaki #ror apollo

260 notes · View notes

blossom-hwa · 2 years

Text

these endless summer nights | k.sy

inspired by the song endless summer by cashae. you should give it a listen :) also I am experimenting w new fic layouts so sorry if everything’s a little different atm 💕

Pairing: Hoshi x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, university!au, summer romance!au

Triggers: allusions to sex (nothing graphic), drinking

Word Count: 7k

This summer feels endless, spent in each other’s arms.

Yeonjun (TXT) Ver. | Seventeen Masterlist

You got me wrapped around your finger

Every moment I see you

At the end of the night I’m begging please, don’t go

When you wake to summer sunshine streaming through the slats of your window, the first thing you see is the mop of hair that is decidedly not yours sharing the pillow beneath your head.

“Oh my god.”

The sleeping boy doesn’t awaken, which gives you a moment to process the embarrassment of having spoken to no one at all, as well as relive the memories that brought you to this moment right here.

A party you weren’t supposed to be at but that Seungcheol invited you to anyway. Drinks, music – conversation over a thumping bass with people you had just met, some games where you learned too much and laughed too loud. Someone’s hand on your knee as you spun a bottle, giggling like a teenager, then sharp eyes smiling into yours and that same hand drifting up to touch your cheek as you leaned in, mind abuzz and lips tingling as people cheered in the background –

The boy in your bed right now, soft breaths still fluttering gentle against your skin.

This time, as your eyes drift to the hair spread across your pillow, you don’t say a word. Instead you lift a hand from the rumpled sheets to touch the mop, running your fingers lightly through the soft strands. It was styled last night, you think – artfully windswept like he’d spent the day at the beach nearby, those sharp eyes crinkled into the smile he greeted you with as he laughed under the sun.

“Isn’t it a little weird to be touching a stranger’s hair while they’re sleeping?”

The words that burst from your lips are a lot stronger than oh my god this time.

Dark eyes blink open, already narrowing into that laughing smile you were remembering just moments prior. And as his gaze meets yours under the light spilling through the window, right after you had just started to calm your heartbeat, you have to take a moment to catch your breath again.

“I think I touched a lot more last night,” you finally say. He’s still so close, hasn’t bothered to shift away or move at all from his place against the pillow. If you wanted, you could give in to the lingering urge to press closer, closer, and have those lips against yours once more.

When he laughs, raspy with sleep but bright as the sun, the urge only grows stronger.

“Fair enough.” He shifts, then, letting the blankets slip from his bare shoulders. “So what happens now?”

What happens now, indeed. Not kissing, probably. But you don’t want to part from this sunshine boy either, don’t want to leave behind the messy hair and blooming smile and strong, gentle touch you remember he used with you last night, hands soft and warm against your skin.

Maybe for another one night stand you would’ve showed him the door, bade him a polite goodbye and never thought about him again. But today, as you shrug off the blankets, letting them pool around your waist...

You smile back.

And as he stares up at you with sunlight dancing in his eyes, you dare to believe he finds your grin as beautiful as you find his.

“I’m kind of hungry,” you say. “Breakfast?”

Starry eyes under moonlight

Then you lean in and can I

Take this moment to say this feels so right?

Breakfast does happen. Not in your apartment because you haven’t gone grocery shopping yet and Soonyoung – that’s his name, the name of the boy made of summer sunshine – agrees that he’d probably like something more substantial than cereal, but at the little café down the street. Coffee and pastries, maybe more expensive than you’d have liked, but worth it for the little sparkle that lights in Soonyoung’s eyes when he bites into his chocolate croissant, and worth more for the words that fill the air between you two as the morning passes on.

Lunch happens too, then, after you walk with Soonyoung to his place where you sit on the couch and play with his orange cat, Horangi (“He’s like a little tiger!” “He’s an orange tabby, Soonyoung.”) as he changes in the next room. He pays this time for the street stall food, greasy and delicious and worth every cheap penny, and then there’s a park nearby that Soonyoung mentions and your heart jumps a little to see the hope in his eyes as he looks at you. As though he feels the same way, doesn’t want this – whatever this is – to end.

The sky is blue and the grass is green and Soonyoung shines bright against the sun with every word that falls from his lips, every laugh that echoes in the open air. And when you look at the time that’s passed, hours whiled away since the moment you touched his hair under the morning sunlight, and tell him that you really need to go grocery shopping or your roommate who’s coming back tomorrow might actually kill you, he insists on coming, and then insists on helping you carry the bags back to your home.

“You really didn’t need to come with me to do something as boring as grocery shopping,” you say, dropping your bags on the kitchen floor.

“But I wanted to.” He giggles in this silly little way that makes your heart flutter ridiculously, and that kills any residual argument that might have found its way to your lips.

Putting away groceries turns into making dinner and that turns into the two of you sitting at your kitchen table, sharing from the several dishes laid across the top. Soonyoung’s cheeks bulge like a chipmunk, or a hamster, or just one of those little animals that store food in their cheeks, and when you admit that this is the reason why you’re giggling, he just shrugs. “The food’s really good.”

You may be able to cook, but your simple dishes are absolutely not worth the way he’s shoveling food between his lips. You let him know as much.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shoves another spoonful into his mouth. A stray drop of sauce lingers at the corner of his grinning lips. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.”

Your only response is to wipe the sauce away, failing to hide the smile threatening to split across your face.

Soonyoung insists on helping you with the dishes and then spends more time distracting you than actually washing. You splash water at him in retaliation and then your cackles fill the apartment as he screeches, swiping soapy droplets from his face. He sits himself on the counter and cracks jokes until your sides ache with laughter and you can barely hold yourself up to place the last dish away to dry, and when you meet eyes with him again, you can’t help it when your gaze falls to his lips once more.

You walk him out when he admits he needs to go, an early dance practice tomorrow that he can’t miss, and even though you know you couldn’t afford to spend another late morning in his arms because of your own schedule, the urge to grab his hand, ask him to stay, beg him not to leave almost overwhelms your throat when he turns to you under the pale moonlight outside. His eyes look like stars against the dark sky.

“Today was nice,” he says first, voice softer than it’s been the entire day. Moonlight glitters on his face and still he shines as though the sun were still in the sky.

“It was,” you breathe, and that’s all the cue either of you needs to close the gap between your lips.

He kisses like a dream, playful and serious all at once, an arm sliding around your waist to bring you closer, closer as your own hands rise to his cheeks, caressing the soft skin. He’s gentle and he’s strong and he’s everything that urged you to stay with him all day when you would’ve left anyone else that morning without a second thought.

“Text me when you get home,” you say when you pull away for air, hands still gripping those of the boy made of sunshine.

“I will,” he promises. “I’ll see you again.”

It’s so easy to laugh with him, fingers intertwined as though neither of you will ever let go. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Eyes on you, eyes on me

Can’t let go, ‘cause it’s all I need

He’s a dancer, the boy made of stars and sunshine. Which you knew – that first night he’d mentioned an early dance practice he needed to wake up for – but somehow that knowledge still doesn’t quite prepare you for what you find when you show up to his studio a few days later, a response to the text he’d sent earlier that morning (I’m free after my practice today! ends at 5 :3).

Soonyoung, sweat plastering dyed hair to his forehead, limbs like water as he spins in front of the walls of glass and mirrors. The look in his eyes freezes you in place – electrifying, you think, like the dazzling flashes of lightning that strike during the beachfront storms – and you stay there, rooted in place even after the music has long stopped playing and Soonyoung has turned to you, those very same eyes crinkling into the sunshine smile you’ve grown to miss over just these past few days.

“Y/N!” He bounds over, arms outstretched, and you almost fall into them before he suddenly drops them, embarrassment shading his cheeks red. “Oh, uh – I’m pretty sweaty, sorry I forgot –”

“When were you going to tell me you could dance like that?”

Soonyoung’s mouth closes. Opens. Closes again. His ears are red too, now, and if you weren’t still in shock over the last few moments of your life you might’ve been laughing with the affection welling in your chest.

“I – um – let me shower,” he finally says, voice a little higher pitched than you remember it. This time you do laugh, at his voice and the pout that settles on his lips at your first giggle. “I’ll be done soon, promise.”

He comes out ten minutes later, hair damp from the water, and you resist the urge to run your fingers through it as he leads you through the glass studio doors. “You’re really cute when you’re shy,” you say instead, smiling as his cheeks return to the same light shade of pink they were earlier. “I would’ve thought you’d be used to this kind of compliment by now. You’re… that was insane, and I was only there for a minute.”

The sun is still bright at five seventeen pm on this warm summer afternoon, and its rays seem to frame Soonyoung’s pink face like a painting, a living painting of a boy born from sunshine. But no painting could capture the moment when he looks at you, eyes shy and sparkling, and says, “Yeah, but it sounds a little different, coming from you.”

Eyes on you, eyes on me

You find an empty bench in the park, sit there and talk about everything and nothing all at once as the sun plays between the trees. Dappled light falls on Soonyoung’s face and as his hands wave in the air, animating the unfortunate story he wants to tell you about his roommate and some murderous pigeon (he’s my best friend, he says, you’ll love him when you meet him, and it doesn’t escape you that he says when and not if, like he sees you in his future with no room for uncertainty), you can only laugh and nod and stare, unable to pull your eyes from his warmth, a sunflower following the light of his smile.

When the sky starts to turn pink and purple, the remnants of day fading into night, you finally stand from your perches on the bench. Soonyoung takes your hand on the way to the convenience store under his apartment and holds it as he pays for the packets of ramen you tote back to his place. Horangi the cat greets you two at the door and you let go to give him the attention he desires and deserves, but the lingering warmth of Soonyoung’s fingers stays pressed to your palm long after.

There’s no party tonight, but there is convenience store ramen and half a bottle of wine Soonyoung finds in the back of some cabinet. There are no wine glasses – I broke one and my roommate broke the other literally a week later at the exact same time, you’d have thought it was planned – so you use mugs instead.

You laugh at the setup when it’s finished, cheap wine and cheap ramen laid out like a feast. So does Soonyoung, warm giggle brushing against your neck as he sidles up and takes your hand in his again naturally, so naturally, like they belong together.

This time, he doesn’t let go.

Can’t let go, ‘cause it’s all I need

(When you wake up in the morning, legs tangled together beneath rumpled sheets, you’re still holding hands.)

So pull me closer, closer

While we still have time

The last wall between you crashes down with the passing of that day, a wall of casual touch and affection that you didn’t realize you could have built so strongly in such a short time – but Soonyoung is different, different in the way you seem have to known each other, known each other’s bodies and minds even before you met. He knows how to kiss you slow and deep, knows how to hold you close to his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat against your skin. He knows when to tangle your hands together and when to squeeze to let you know I’m here, I’m still here, I’m not going away anytime soon.

Days with him feel like years and seconds all at once. Time passes in scenes, in moments – you’re at the beach in one, splashing each other in the waves, and the next he’s loafing on your apartment couch as type away at the kitchen table nearby. He’s dancing down the street, movements exaggerated for your laughter, and then he has you pressed gently to the wall, lips swallowing the last giggles on the tip of your tongue. One summer night after another, endless – Soonyoung is forever, you come to believe, eternity in the graze of his hands against yours, in the moonlit sparkle of his eyes under the night sky.

And let me hold you, hold you

On these endless summer nights

When he holds you, it feels as though you swim among the stars.

So pull me closer, closer

One hot evening in the middle of July, Soonyoung calls you as you’re leaving the lab to the setting sun outside. “I’m dyeing my hair again.”

“… Now?”

“I’m going white blond,” he continues as though you never said anything. “You wanna help?”

Your feet immediately go to turn in their tracks, heading for the bus stop in the opposite direction. You pause though, wary of the sudden movement – because you like Soonyoung, like him so much, but there’s still that little residual fear that you like him a little too much and that won’t be good for you or him in the long run.

You talked about this with Joshua and Seungcheol, though – told them how you felt about Soonyoung, how you’ve never felt this way for anyone else before, but that you were worried things were moving a little too quickly to be safe. For all their usual joking around they’d listened carefully as you spoke, and when you were finished, they had advice to give.

“Is moving too fast the only thing you’re worried about? Or has he… done anything, I guess, to make you feel uncomfortable about being in a relationship with him?” Joshua had asked.

“I’ve never been uncomfortable with him,” you’d said, and even as the words left your mouth you knew they were true. There have been moments of miscommunication that made things pause, of course, but uncomfortable? Never. “It’s just the speed, I guess.”

“Well, you say you’ve never felt this way about anyone else.” Seungcheol had shrugged. “If you click so well with him, I don’t think it’s fair to use other relationships as a golden standard to hold him by.”

Which was – fair. And true. Their words settled your misgivings and you’d told them as much, gratitude in your smile. Of course, Seungcheol had immediately claimed best man rights when you and Soonyoung inevitably get married or whatever because “I’m the one who invited you to that party so I was basically your matchmaker,” so maybe Joshua was the only one who deserved your gratitude.

So when Soonyoung calls that day, after that initial pause, you let your feet guide the way to the other bus stop and scoff into the phone. “It’s funny how you still think you need to ask.”

While we still have time

Seokmin opens the door when you arrive and immediately points to the bathroom. “Tell him not to make a colossal mess, please.”

You laugh and so does he, because if there’s one thing you both know about Soonyoung, it’s that he does what he wants how he wants, and like the hurricanes that sweep the beach, only rarely can anyone divert the path of destruction that follows. But that’s him, Soonyoung, his power and passion lighting the world, destroying it as it stands only to build it up anew.

“Seokmin says not to make a mess,” you tell him anyway as the two of you cover every open surface in preparation for whatever chaos will follow. “He said please.”

“No promises,” is all Soonyoung says, the summer sunshine grin splitting his face even as the sky grows dark outside.

He’s wearing an old t-shirt, a ragged towel stained in many colors slung around his shoulders. It’s clear he knows what he’s doing by the way he handles the dye, mixing it and then carefully applying it to his hair with the confidence of someone who’s done this sort of thing many times. He obviously doesn’t need you for anything other than cleanup, maybe – especially not with your complete absence of knowledge in the art of hair-dyeing.

“Why’d you ask me to come?” you ask when the dye job is done. His hair is white blond now, just like he said, and he looks as handsome as ever. You really want to kiss him.

Soonyoung blinks. “Were you bored?”

“No!” And you weren’t – watching him dye his hair was an experience in and of itself and you can’t deny your pride in being the first to see him with the new color. “I just… didn’t do anything to help.”

He shrugs, then, cheeks puffing out with his smile. “You didn’t need to help,” he says, going back to wiping down the counter. “I just wanted you here.”

And let me hold you, hold you

You cook for him and Seokmin later that night when your heart has stopped skipping beats and your brain has calmed down because Soonyoung is abysmal in the kitchen and Seokmin has been tired these days. It’s made a little difficult, however, by the way Soonyoung can’t seem to keep his hands off of you for even a second.

“Are you ever going to let go of me?” you ask at some point, amusement rippling across your words as you attempt to maneuver yourself around the tiny kitchen, one Kwon Soonyoung hugging your waist from the back with his nose nuzzled into your neck.

Soonyoung looks up slightly, meeting eyes with you in the faint reflection of a metal pot. His newly dyed hair almost seems to glow in the light overhead sparking off the metal. It seems he embodies the brightness of the universe no matter what, the sun, the moon, the sky, the stars, and in that moment as his smile widens, you know – you know –

You love him.

And maybe if you hadn’t had that talk with your friends, you’d be freaking out right now about love coming too fast and being unsure whether or not this was love or infatuation or something else that would burn too bright and too quickly, leaving you scorched in its wake, but today you only find yourself sinking further into Soonyoung’s hold, smiling back at him in the reflection.

If this is love, it’s more beautiful than anything you thought it could be.

On these endless summer nights

When Soonyoung still doesn’t answer, you nudge him with your shoulder. “Are you?”

His head ducks down, burying his nose into your neck again. “No,” he says, and you can feel the sunshine smile on his face warm against your skin. “Never.”

My god, you think as he sways you side to side, his arms never once falling from their place around your waist. I love you so much.

(Endless summer nights)

(When Soonyoung drops you off at your apartment the next morning, Joshua the token disgusted roommate says he’s never seen a grosser couple than the two of you. Seokmin, despite having sworn that he is the epitome of a sweet summer child, agrees wholeheartedly.)

Skies have never been clearer

Grass has never been greener

And the feeling gets stronger, each and every time

Soonyoung wishes – really fucking wishes – he remembered how you two met. The exact way, not just the generic we saw each other at a party and kissed and one thing led to another and we ended up in the same bed. He wants to remember the moment you met his eyes or he met yours, what he said to you that ended with his hand on your knee as you spun an empty glass bottle in the center of a rowdy circle, what led to the smile on your face as you leaned in to kiss him, the yells of the crowd blurring to background noise in his ears against the soft pressure of your lips.

But there is one thing he does remember, a memory that he will always treasure – waking up to you the morning after, your fingers running soft in his hair, and his first coherent thought being that in your presence, all the colors in the world only seemed brighter.

The sun was spilling through the windows, light spinning gold onto your face and body still half covered in the sheets. He’d said something dumb and you’d freaked, he knows, a litany of curses spewing from your lips, and that only made him laugh because you looked so cute, flustered in this way.

I think I touched a lot more last night, you’d finally replied, raising one eyebrow.

To Soonyoung it felt a little like a challenge. The eyebrow raise was what did it, finished off the perfect retort to whatever his dumb mouth had decided to say. He remembers half of him wanted to egg you on, say something else to prolong this verbal ping pong match, but there was the tiredness still pulling down his eyes and the tipsily hungover headache behind the bridge of his nose and the knowledge that even though he might want to learn you, to know you more than just the blissful last night, he might be overstaying his welcome. One night stands are one thing. Staying after is another.

So he’d laughed, then, almost on reflex, and conceded your point. It was a good one. And he’d asked what would happen next, because that’s all he could think about then – overstaying his welcome, possibly not overstaying his welcome, getting the opportunity to maybe talk with you more than you did last night and preferably not over alcohol spiked drinks, and he was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t catch your mouth opening to speak –

But he saw the smile blooming wide across your face as you slipped from the blankets, the way sunshine turned brighter against your eyes and cheeks.

And in that moment, nothing in the world could have made him look away.

Locked in you and I can’t find

These emotions so can I

Take this moment to say this feels so right

There’s – something about you, Soonyoung thinks, something indescribable, a je ne sais quoi if he’s feeling fancy – a quality to you that seems to breathe life into everything you see, everything you hear, everything you touch. The sky looks bluer, the grass greener when you walk by his side in the park, your laugh spilling music into the air as he tells you about the unfortunate tale of Seokmin and the murderous pigeon.

He is an impulsive person. Comparatively, at least, to most of the people he knows. But even Soonyoung can’t believe how easy it is to talk to you, to laugh with you, how much he wants to stay by your side despite only having known you for a matter of days – it’s moving fast, even for him.

He tells Seokmin this on a day you aren’t over. His roommate, his best friend just looks at him and asks him one question. “Do you think it’s a bad thing?”

He pauses. Thinks. Horangi the cat purrs in his arms, and idly Soonyoung recalls how much his cat loves you too.

“I don’t think it’s bad,” he finally says, long and slow. “I’ve just never felt this way about someone before.”

Books speak of soulmates, of red threads connecting one part of a soul to another, of birthmarks left by a past love’s kiss, predestined fate pulling lovers together slowly, surely. Soonyoung knows it well, has seen it mirrored in so many dances and stories, has felt the love expressed by all sides of the equation in the presence of a truly happy couple or throuple or anything beyond or in between. He knows it. Has felt it.

But only now does he believe it.

You are the sun, perhaps, and Soonyoung a planet pulled into your orbit by a brilliant smile accompanied by an outstretched hand so warm with gentle light that he couldn’t possibly refuse. There’s no way he could tug himself away.

Nor does he think he’ll ever want to.

“It’s cheesy to say,” he says, every word weighing heavily on his lips. “But if soulmates exist, something tells me Y/N would be mine.”

There’s a mildly disgusted look on Seokmin’s face that mixes strangely with the oddly genuine expression in his eyes. But despite the embarrassment beginning to tint Soonyoung’s cheeks pink and his ears red –

Something in him rings certain that his words are true.

Eyes on you, eyes on me

Can’t let go, ‘cause it’s all I need

He knows it, knows that it’s love, this one night stand turned summer fling that will turn hopefully into something more – he knows it’s love when he shows up to your university still sweaty after dance practice to listen to a talk you’re giving about something he has no chance of understanding.

You’d mentioned it offhand on the way to your apartment, groceries laden on your arms and his. A little presentation on the work you’ve done so far this summer, barely ten minutes in the entire conference but still something to acknowledge what you’ve managed to complete. “It’s an opportunity, anyway,” you’d said, but even then Soonyoung could tell by the little tremble in your words just how much those ten minutes meant to you.

“Can I come?”

The words had left him on reflex, and only when you looked at him strangely did he realize what he’d said. And by then it was too late to take it back, but he didn’t want to, even when you admitted that all the science and math talk might honestly bore him to sleep. “What day is it?” he’d asked, and put the event into his calendar (right after a dance practice, but that would be fine) before helping you carry the groceries up to your apartment. “I’ll be there.”

Sweat still trickles down the side of Soonyoung’s face by the time he finds the university building and then the appropriate room. He gets a strange look from a security guard and several well-dressed adults who must be conference attendees, but he ignores them as he slides into a seat in the back. You stand at the podium, looking oddly relaxed for how jittery you were yesterday when he saw you, and he remembers the reassurance he’d tried to give before he dropped you off at home.

This is your work. You know it better than anyone ever will. You’ve done everything you can to get this far, and this is your moment to shine. Take it and run with it.

People say that science and the arts couldn’t be more different, one logical and rational and the other fueled by the imagination. But as Soonyoung watches you speak at the front of the room, not a waver in your voice as you look steadily out at the crowd, all he can think is that this is, at its barest bones, a performance. A culmination of your work presented to a crowd of those who understand, just like Soonyoung’s recitals on stages in front of thousands.

Soonyoung doesn’t understand your talk. Well – there are parts he gets, things that ring a few bells from high school and college gen-ed courses that he’d long forgotten until now. But even though you explain things well, this is a performance prepared for experts in your field, not laypeople like him, just like how his auditions are tailored to things that the judges will understand but not the general public. By all counts, you should’ve been right – coming here should have bored him to pieces.

But your eyes glow with a low, steady flame Soonyoung hasn’t seen before, embers rising from ashes as your voice brims with fire, passion in every perfectly-enunciated word, and he is – electrified, probably, that’s the only word that could even hope to encompass how he feels in this chair, listening to you speak.

That’s it, he realizes when you’ve finished talking, applause filling the room as you smile at the crowd. That’s it. Love – listening to your passions even though he doesn’t understand, falling for the fire in your voice and the determination in your eyes as you calmly answer question after question. This is love, built and grown and carefully tended over the course of these endless summer months –

You step off the stage to another round of applause, and the only thought echoing through Soonyoung’s brain is I love you.

Eyes on you, eyes on me

He finds you in the crowd after the last speaker has finished, surrounded by a few other people who look far more professional than he does. You nod and laugh to one of them, ask something to another and promise something else to a third –

Then you see him, and the way your face lights up could rival all the stars in the galaxy.

Soonyoung smiles, shaking his head slightly – don’t let me interrupt, keep talking to who you need to – and it looks like you understand because you go back to your conversation, but as soon as the last person slips into the crowd you turn to him, walking over with sure, giddy steps.

“You came!” you say, a breathless smile swept wide across your lips. “Did you see me?”

“Of course,” Soonyoung manages to answer around all the emotion still pressing tight against his heart. And as you wrap your arms around him and he pulls you as close as he can into his chest, all he can think is –

Can’t let go, ‘cause it’s all I need

Even in a room of thousands, I would still only to see you.

So pull me closer, closer

While we still have time

Soonyoung doesn’t usually wake up before you, a result of combining his preference for sleeping in as well as the fact that his schedule generally starts later than yours. Sometimes, though, like on this early August morning, his eyes blink open before dawn. And while that’s usually a curse because Soonyoung very much values his sleep, if he happens to be in the same bed as you when the dawn wakes him, he’ll take it as luck, good luck in this case.

He teased you the first morning you woke up together, said something about watching him and touching his hair while he was still asleep. But he never meant it, really – or at least he definitely doesn’t mean it now. Because being able to pull you close in your slumber and feel your breath flutter peacefully against his skin is the greatest gift the world could have given him in return for the indignity of waking up early.

You shift a little in his arms and Soonyoung can tell you’re about to wake up by the way your eyes flutter once, twice, before you curl into him a little more. “Isn’t it a little weird to be watching a stranger while they sleep?” you mutter, eyes still closed.

Soonyoung pouts exaggeratedly as you blink yourself awake, but he knowingly destroys the effect by bringing you closer. “After all this time, how could you say we’re still strangers?”

And let me hold you, hold you

On these endless summer nights

A sleepy little laugh that’s more of a sigh falls from your lips that Soonyoung would kiss if you weren’t so particular about morning mouth. “No,” you admit, snuggling into his chest. “I think we’re a lot more than that, now.”

Soonyoung kisses the top of your head. “I’m glad you think so too.”

So pull me closer, closer

You take a beach trip one weekend when the sun shines hot and bright and not a cloud dots the blue, blue sky. Jun screams and Joshua looks on in disgust and Seokmin yells as you rub sunscreen into Soonyoung’s back, but Soonyoung can only laugh as you stick your tongue out at everyone who dares mock the two of you and threaten to throw several handfuls of sand at them.

“And put on sunscreen!” you yell, waving the bottle menacingly through the air. “Unless you want to get burned to high hell, by the sun and by me!”

God, he loves you so much.

While we still have time

The sun’s too hot so Soonyoung sprints into the water the minute you’re done with his back, screeching as the sand burns his feet. You follow behind, apparently, and Soonyoung only realizes that you’re here too when you plunge into the ocean with a splash that sends water flying all over him.

Spewing saltwater, Soonyoung turns around to face your doubled-over figure shaking with laughter. Which is a good thing, because you don’t notice him coming towards you until it’s too late and both of you have toppled into the water.

There might be tears in Soonyoung’s eyes when he comes back up – between the saltwater and the sun, he’s not sure. What he is sure of, though, is that you’ve never looked more beautiful than now, surrounded by the sparkling blue ocean and the shining hot sun, cackling in his arms.

And let me hold you, hold you

You build a bonfire, because Jeonghan likes arson and Seungcheol is generally willing indulge his boyfriend’s criminal tendencies in a controlled, contained sort of way, and also because it’s the typical sort of thing to do at the beach even if you aren’t teenagers anymore. As the sun sets on the ocean, you lean your head on Soonyoung’s shoulder with a little sigh. Firelight glows off your face.

Soonyoung turns around to meet your eyes with his. Then, in full view of all the single people around and in full disregard of their groans, he decides to meet your lips too.

On these endless summer nights

(“Mm, salty,” he says, pulling away.

You slap his shoulder. “You’re disgusting. Why would you say that?”)

(Endless summer nights)

(Soonyoung grins. “And yet you’re still here, letting me be disgusting to you.”)

(Endless summer nights)

(“Yeah.” You lean against him again, rolling your eyes as the fading sunlight flickers across your smile. “I guess I am.”)

Don’t think I’ll feel this way

Again when the night is done

Summer always ends. Soonyoung knows this. Time always flows no matter how static it seems, but as August winds to a close, he still can’t help but feel a little shocked. Where did the time go from the start of June and the party where he met you, all the way until now at the end of August as you sit on a bench by the beach, holding hands as the sun begins its descent beneath the waves? It’s as though the last three months were no longer than a second spent in your arms.

His head rests on your shoulder, your hand raised and combing through his hair. A comfortable silence has filled the air and Soonyoung can feel sleepiness settling over him in waves the longer he sits there, basking against your side.

“Summer’s almost over,” you say, almost to yourself. If Soonyoung wasn’t so close, he might not even have heard you.

“Mm.” He opens his eyes, turns just enough to look up at you. “Back to school.”

“Ugh.” You both laugh, but this time Soonyoung feels a little uncertainty ripple through the air where only comfortable silence had reigned prior. Clear as day, he sees the question hanging invisible in front of you as the sun sinks further behind the ocean.

What does that mean for us?

“I think this summer was the best one of my life,” Soonyoung admits quietly. Your eyes shift downward to meet his, still sparkling even in the fading light. “And I can’t deny it was because of you.”

Slowly, the hand on his head comes down. You take his fingers between yours, lacing them gently together. “I agree.”

Soonyoung sits up, never once breaking contact with your hands or your eyes. You look back steadily, softly, like you love him as much as he loves you. Something he’s almost certain might be true.

Only that hope keeps him from bailing right then and there, cracking a joke and leaving this charged atmosphere behind.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is…” He swallows hard, forces himself to keep meeting your gaze. “This wasn’t just a summer fling for me. If it’s okay with you, I don’t want this to end.”

The summer never ends with you, oh it’s just begun

When Soonyoung says this to you, his eyes earnest against the setting sun, you have to remind yourself that this is real. That the summer wasn’t a dream, that Soonyoung wasn’t a dream, that everything he just said to you was – it was real. It was from him. It was true.

It wasn’t just wishful thinking that he felt the same way as you.

With this realization bursting warm in your heart, you curl your fingers into his. Look up into starry eyes.

And smile.

“What do you mean, end?” you say, and the grin blooming across Soonyoung’s face rivals all the beauty of the sun and the stars and the moon combined. “We’re just getting started.”

So pull me closer, closer

While we still have time

You go back to your place after and since Joshua’s out for the night, Soonyoung takes the opportunity to cuddle you full and well on the couch as a white noise movie plays in the background. You can’t stay long – both of you have things to do early tomorrow – but where he might once have felt a sense of urgency with the knowledge of the ending summer looming in the near distance, Soonyoung finds it a little easier to relax this time.

You have all the time in the world, now.

When the movie is over, you poke his side. “Up.”

He whines. “Don’t wanna.”

You poke more insistently. “Up.”

In the end Soonyoung stands, but only after he essentially forces you to pull him up off the couch and then off the floor. You’re smiling, though, a laugh barely repressed in your throat, and Soonyoung can see it very well as he kisses you once more.

He pulls back to look into eyes that hold a galaxy of stars, and in that moment, the words build up and spill out before he can even think to take them back.

“I love you.”

For a moment, you just blink. Soonyoung feels himself starting to panic – it wasn’t planned, it wasn’t discussed, maybe he said it too soon because even though you did agree that you wanted this, maybe you weren’t ready for that sort of declaration just yet –

“What a coincidence.” You raise a hand to his cheek as a slow smile spreads across your face. “I love you too.”

And let me hold you, hold you

On these endless summer nights (on these endless summer nights)

(You walk him out of the apartment after that, but you linger on the street. Soonyoung doesn’t leave either, just stands there with your hands in his even as the moon begins to rise higher in the sky.

“Text me when you get home,” you finally say, an echo of that second night.

Soonyoung pauses. Squints. “What do you mean?” he asks, looking at you with those soft, moonlit eyes. “I’m with you.”

His fingers squeeze yours, summer memories glittering in his smile.

“That means I’m already home.”)

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for Seokmin and his pigeon problem. no I will not elaborate)

458 notes · View notes

xleeleeboox · 2 years

Text

Smoking with Eddie for the first time

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Warnings: smoking, thunderstorms, first time high

Just a little thing about smoking and staying the night with Eddie

731 words

————

- You and Eddie have been friends for pretty much the entire school year

- you hang out go to parties smoke play games watch movies and study

- just some things that best friends do together

- or at least that’s what it seemed like

- you never really had any other friends like this before

- definitely not like Eddie

- but you like Eddie

- and Eddie actually likes you too ☺️

- he’s your only friend right now 🤡

- And what friends do is help each other study, so you tutor Eddie for history and math since you share those classes together

- You two started bonding from there and moved on to hanging out with no studying

- at that point you and Eddie have gotten closer

- soon he asked you to stay and smoke with him

- that is where you two ended up now

- in Eddie’s trailer with a joint between your lips you take a hit and start choking 🥴🥴

- “Woah woah here’s some water” Eddie says

- He is laughing at you of course lmao

- “I remember the first time I smoked the first hit was fine but I choked on the second one it really kicked my ass” he chuckles at the memory

- “😒 Thanks that doesn’t help” you choke out

- “Don’t be embarrassed”

- “I am”

- “Why”

- “NOBODY LIKES CHOKING??”

- “Not nobody”

- 😦

- You just look at him, don’t even know what to say

- “Ew”

- The clock is getting blurry

- “I think I’m feeling it now Eds”

- “Yeah? What’s it like?”

- “ like I can actually feel my heartbeat in my chest and my head is tingling a little bit“

- “Everyone is different”

- I lay down

- I’m really feeling it as I stare at that clock and I space out thinking about it

- thunder rumbles in the distance

- Eddie gets up getting some drinks and he hands you a beer

- you don’t need beer

- you need water

- cottonmouth duh

- “Ew no im getting water”

- You are stubborn, that’s what Eddie likes about you

- You know what you want, you don’t fuck around either because clearly you don’t have any friends if your with him on a Friday night

- In his trailer

- In his room

- Getting high with him

- Eddie didn’t even charge you and he probably never will

- Unless you end up smoking a lot with him lol

- Spoiler you do 😬

- You move to get up but your legs are like jelly

- so you kind of take baby steps

- it’s hard but manageable so you make it to the kitchen with no new bruises yay

- Mission accomplished

- lightning strikes scaring you tho

- then of course Eddie has to sneak up behind you

- But he wraps his arms around your middle, somehow still scaring you even more

- sometimes you both are more than friends, like when he does things like this 🦋🦋🦋

- but you’re not complaining now, who would 😩

- “Eddie I need water not beer 😒”

- “Here”

- He goes to reach for a cup in a cabinet and the bottom of his shirt lifts up 👀

- you know that he doesn’t work out but he still looks pretty good, like his tummy?? i love

- he reaches to put some ice in the cup and you stare at him as he fills it up with water and hands you the glass

- He debated on making you beg for it 🙄

- but when you grab it you borderline chug it and he laughs, glad that he didn’t make work for it

- Eddie grabs your hand and carefully leads you to his room again and it starts hitting harder

- You obnoxiously toss yourself on his bed and curl up into his blankets lol

- “Eds, I don’t like the storm it’s so loud”

- “maybe you should spend the night, sweetheart” 🥰 I swoon over him

- He was gonna make you stay anyway

- you mumble “mhm” and turn around to face him

- really just to steal all of his warmth to get stimulation

- he was actually the best that comforting you

- his hugs are amazing, wrapping both arms tightly around you rubbing your back,

- playing with your hair,

- telling you stories with his deep voice, even making character voices too

- and it puts you in a trance and you knock out

- rain hitting the window, the soft bed, his heartbeat, his warmth, him holding you, playing with your hair

- It was perfect

- You definitely get high with Eddie again

—————

#stranger things eddie munson #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #stranger things #Eddie Munson imagines #stranger things imagines #Eddie Munson smut #bat!eddie #perv!eddie munson

144 notes · View notes

rexxdjarin · 2 years

Note

You asked for anons and to be honest I am sitting here (anonymously) thinking about how I want Cody to fuck me through my third orgasm of the night and not let up despite my little whimpers and my hands clawing at the sheets- all with a smug smirk on his face as he absolutely fucking devastates me.

So yeah. ✌🏽

omg omg omg omg the cody about to LEAP out of me once again. I love this man. I love this man as the filthiest, smugest, most in charge dom ever because it just suits him. IM- piaejroiajgaji ok..

"Ah- yeah that's good Darlin'. You're such a good girl for me, aren't you? Three's not enough. I can feel it." He growled from deep in his bare chest, lifting your bare leg high in the air to press his center flush with yours.

You whined as his lower abdomen rolled perfectly into your oversensitive clit, still reeling from orgasm number three. The trail of hair leading to the base of him tickled you, even the slightest of touches spurring you on for more.

You were insatiable just as much as he was. He'd never found someone who could keep up with his appetite quite like you could. Three, four, five times a night was a common occurrence for the two of you. Though it probably sounded insane to some people. You knew your neighbors hated it.

Your muscles burned, coil in your lower belly clenching, just begging for him to pry you open deeper. "Not done unless you cum, Sir." You flirt between needed gasps of air. His fingertips dragged down the length of your thigh, gripping hard enough to leave bruises pressed into the gentle skin.

"That's my girl. Always thinking of me. I should reward you for that..." He thought aloud, placing a well struck slap to your ass. You half yelped, half whined at another tingling sensation joining the others that had already wracked your body. He flashed a toothy grin, clearly impressed with himself for having you needy and begging for more underneath his touch.

"Cody." You groaned, tipping your head back into the pillows and bucking your hips into him. "Deeper, baby, deeper. I'm aching, please." He chuckled, immediately leaning forward over you and spreading your legs around the width of him. The change in position had his length spearing into exactly where you needed him. With one hand, you fisted your sheets until your knuckles turned white and with the other you dug deep red scratches into his shoulder blades.

"Fuck..yeah that's what you wanted. Like that huh? I know you've got another in you cyar'ika. Be a good girl for me, scream my name and I'll fill you up so good next time. Can you do that for me? Say it. My name.." He ordered, the dark lust in his voice drawing more and more out of you as he pistoned into your insides.

"CODY!" You cried, your entire body seizing up as his hips pounding into you and the orgasming rocketing through you tore you apart around him. His arm slid up your back and he lifted you off the mattress, resting his forehead on yours.

"That's four, pretty girl." He laughed maniacally, pressing a kiss against your lips that was far gentler than his mid stroke persona. "Let's make it five?"

Well, who were you to defy the Marshall Commander?

#commander cody thot #commander cody x you #commander cody smut #commander cody x reader #asks and thots

89 notes · View notes

bibblelevi · 2 years

Note

maybe 28) receiver has had to wear a gag or muzzle as punishment for disobedience, sender finally decides to let them out of it and test their submission, combined with ❝ come here. sit in my lap and tell me what you want, [chosen term for sub]. ❞? up to you which levi it's about, if you decide to use them :)

A/N: Since one of these prompts was already used, I gave it a very minor tweak. Hope that’s okay and that you still like this anon :)) thx guys for hyping me up to post this i truly needed it. i will now be logging off the rest of the night and maybe my life

Kitty! Switch! Levi x Owner! fem! Reader

Prompt: ‘receiver has had to wear a gag or muzzle as punishment for disobedience, sender finally decides to let them out of it and test their submission.’

Warnings for switch Levi (submissive to somewhat-mean-dominant), hybrids (kitty! Levi), pet play, collar, use of muzzle, restraints/bondage, lingerie, punishment, orgasm denial/edgeplay, begging, one spank, some mommy kink, degradation (“slut”) and humiliation.

His ears are flattened over tufts of wavy black hair, and his tail involuntarily taps the floor. He can smell you where he sits, knees digging into the carpet, wrists strapped to his thighs.

The sound of the toy whirrs quietly, his eyes never leaving the steady up and down motion of your wrist. You hold the silicone vibrator to your panties until a visible wet spot stains the fabric. Until the potent smell of you is too much to bear.

“Come on,” he growls through grit teeth. His fingers curl, but when he lifts his hands, the short chains jerk his wrists back to his thighs.

“No. I said no touching, Levi. This is what happens when you break the rules,” you snap, your breaths heavy.

Your nipples are pebbled, breasts ridiculously soft-looking. Even if he wanted to put his mouth on your body, he couldn’t. Not with the clunky metal contraption barring away his lips, tongue, and teeth. He can speak and whine all he wants, but no matter what, he can’t lick you. He can’t taste you. He can barely even touch you.

“I said I was sorry,” he insists. The chains rattle, and he rises off his haunches, only to lower himself down at your glare. “I am sorry. Take this thing off and let me make it up to you.”

You click off the vibrator despite not yet reaching your release, and you lean over. You strip your panties, then open yourself to him, and his eyes immediately glaze over at the sight of your exposed sex. Your clit is swollen, entrance quivering. Your fingers slide into the grates and yank him forward, tearing him free from his trance, until he’s perched between your legs. You turn the vibe onto low and touch it to your swollen clit.

His expression shifts, the frown lines between his brows smoothening over. He whimpers, “That’s not fair. L-let me… I want to…”

“Shhhh,” you hush as you jostle the cage around. The leash dangling between his pecs sways back and forth, brushing the lacy hem of the panties you personally picked out for him. “Should I get the bit?”

“No! No,” he shakes his head. “I can be good.”

“Hm, I don’t know. Lately, you’ve been a very bad boy, Levi.”

“I… I know. I’m sorry. I was just jealous,” he says quietly. “I don’t like it when you bring other men around the house. They look down on me, and they don’t know you’re mine.”

You scratch gently behind his ears, then drag your hand down. Your fingertips trace the leather strap of the muzzle, all the way around to the front. He looks rabid with the cage covering half his face, and it wrenches a near-painful throb from between your legs. Pink lace and black leather suits him too well. It’s unfair.

You hook your finger into the collar encircling his neck and thumb the D-ring where the leash is clasped. The cute bell jingles whenever he moves, adding another layer of humiliation to his punishment. Wherever he goes, whenever he moves, you’ll know.

“You’re so possessive, it’s cute,” you tease. “And they don’t look down on you, Levi. They’re actually jealous of you.”

His ears perk, and he lifts his chin. “What?”

You smile, your thumb tracing his eyebrow. His gray eyes look like melted steel and sliced diamonds, flooding you further with boiling heat. “Yes, they’re jealous of you, honey.”

“Oh,” he hums. Already, you can tell it’s getting to his head.

“Mm-hm.”

You let out a loud, airy exhale, and lean back into the couch, mindlessly dragging your fingers through your messy cunt. Your arousal coats your fingers, and you reach out and smear it over the grate, a feline-like smirk stretching over your mouth when he starts to poke his tongue at whatever morsel he can get. He whines, thighs snapping together. His cock strains against the delicate pink fabric, swollen balls cradled in lace.

“Please,” he begs again. “I learned my lesson. Take it off.”

“I said a full twenty-four hours with the muzzle,” you remind. “You’re not even halfway there.”

“But this is torture. Please,” then he whispers, “Mommy.”

You sigh. Levi knows your greatest weakness and never fails to exploit it to get what he wants. He’s smart like that, so you can’t blame him. Instead, you pat your thigh. “Fine then. Come on. Sit on my lap and tell me what else you want, baby.”

It’s amusing watching Levi scramble up from his spot on the floor. Leather cuffs encircle his wrists and thighs, latching them together, so he has to stand without the aid of his hands. Eventually, he straddles you and attempts to nuzzle his caged nose into your neck. He wriggles around impatiently.

You don’t let him suffer for much longer, he’s far too precious to you. So, in a gesture of goodwill, your fingers sweep along the buckle at the back of his head and release the leather straps. The cruel device pops free. Angry red marks draw straight lines on his face where the leather-lining dug in. You caress them with your thumb, then lean in for a kiss.

The sound of chains clink, and the little bell on his collar chimes as he plasters his mouth over yours. He moves fast, tongue delving past your lips, tying with yours.

“The cuffs. I want them off. So I can touch you. Please,” he demands next, the sudden assertiveness warming your cheeks.

Gullibly, you obey, also intrigued by whatever plan he has cooking. The leather straps remain around his thighs, but the ones around his wrists come undone, one by one. He kisses you once more, this time with a hand positioned over the front of your neck, and then he guides you onto your stomach.

“What are you up to, Levi?” you ask, your wrists touching at the small of your back. Lightweight fabric—the sleeve of your shirt, maybe?—securely joins your wrists, until they’re cinched and the knot and excess fabric is tucked away from your flailing fingers. You’ve forgotten how good he is with rope, it’s been so long.

Silently, he jerks the cinched “rope” and beckons you into position: your breasts pressed into the couch, ass up, lifted off your calves. Pussy exposed to your precious pet.

A fist forms in your hair and yanks your head up, forcing your back into an uncomfortable arch, and as you blink, a flash of silver pans across your vision. Your heart thunders. The muzzle is forced over your mouth, leather straps fed around the back of your head, fastened the moment your face is shoved back into the cushion.

“Fucking—Levi!” you cry. You shake your head back and forth, trying to remove the device, but he’s strapped it on too tight. It doesn’t move an inch.

“Shut up. Or do I need to get the bit?” he sasses, using your very words against you. A slap lands on your ass and makes you whine.

You shudder and succumb to the ache, your wetness rubbing off on your inner thighs.

A soft whirrrrr fills your ears just as the vibrator presses against your clit. You writhe in your restraints and position, pushing back into the sensations, only to whimper when he lowers the speed.

“Levi, nngh, don’t tease!”

“I’ll do whatever I want,” he says. “I’m not the one who should be punished.”

“What—“

“I know damn well who I belong to. You’re the one who’s forgotten.”

He taps the vibrator against your pussy, over and over, holding you at the brink. Your thighs tremble, and you groan, snapping them shut when your release evades you yet again. He rips your legs apart with ease, not allowing you that smidge of relief.

“So, I’m just going to have to remind you. Mommy,” he says mockingly.

“Levi, baby, I know I’m yours. I-I know.”

He snickers, “You’re just saying that to get what you want. Now, I’m going to go get the bit, and you’re going to be here, ass up, waiting for me to come back.”

“Yes, yes, o-okay.”

“And if I see you rubbing your thighs together like some greedy slut, then I’ll punish your fucking pussy, too.”

He grabs the grate of the muzzle and jostles you, same as you did to him, and your eyes glaze over. “I understand,” you moan out.

Sure enough, when he comes back a second later, you’re right where he left you, waiting.

#levi ackerman smut #levi smut #levi x reader smut #levi x fem!reader smut #aot smut #aot x reader smut #snk smut #hybrids tw #kitty Levi <3

193 notes · View notes

jupitaaaa · 1 year

Text

Kaveh's punishment

Summary: Kaveh argues with Al Haitham, who loses control and punishes him.

Warnings: yelling, dub-con/non-con, hate sex, hair pulling, edging/orgasm denial, toys, name-calling, spit, teasing, begging, brief cock warming, nipple play, slapping, blow job's, marking, aftercare, hand job, crying, sweet ending

Personal note: This originally was a role play me and my best friend did because we were bored. We liked it so much that we decided to wirte it into a fan fic and post it.

I also apologize if there are any spelling mistakes I'm dyslexic!🥲

Word count: 4755 words

Kaveh was standing outside the house he shared with Al Haitham, banging against the door. "Maaaannn!" He exclaimed in annoyance because he forgot his Key again.

Menawhile Al Haitham was inside, sitting on the couch rolling his eyes at Kaveh, who is still banging against the door.

As Al Haitham openes the door he looks at Kaveh with a annoyed expression "Did you forget your key again Kaveh?!"

Kaveh pushes him out of the doorframe and enters the house, "I did NOT forget them! You probaply took them again!"

Al Haitham only scoffs at his response. "Oh I did not and you know that very well Kaveh! You just can't admit that you keep forgetting it!"

"I will not admit things that are not true!" Kaveh sais as he letts himself fall down onto the couch "And put your stupid books away! They are everywhere!"

"Put them away yourself! You're the one who lives here pretty much rent free! Oh and by the way a new month started, It's time you pay for your part of the bill!" Al Haitham sais as he towers over Kaveh's figure on the couch. Kaveh looks up at him, crossing his arms. "I should put YOUR books away!?" He argues and ignores the part where Al Haitham mentions the rent while turning his head away.

Al Haitham grabs his chin roughly. "Don't ignore me! You know the consequences!" Kaveh rolls his eyes and slapps his hand away.

"I told you I will pay you once i get this big job! I am so close to get it and I would already have it if you would let me work at night!!!" Kaveh yells as he getts of the couch. Al Haitham watches him and yells back, "You know very well how important your sleep is! I don't want to have to put up with your grumpy attitude in the mornig!" Kaveh sighs at his words

"Well, im just grumpy since you can not clean up! You are not living here alone!" Kaveh gets up, grabbing his case and walking away to his room, slamming the door shut. Al Haitham follows him with angry stepps, opening the door again harshly.

"YOU DO NOT SLAM MY DOORS! YOU LIVE HERE BASICALLY RENT FREE SINCE YOU CAN NEVER PAY OFF YOUR PART OF THE BILL!" Al Haitham screams at Kaveh, to which he only turns around in shock. "CALM DOWN YOU DICK! I COULD HAVE ALREADY PAYED IF YOU WOULD LET ME WORK!" Kaveh yells back as he walks up to him. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING A DICK?!" Al Haitham yells back.

"IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE HERE?!"

Al Haitham scoffs at Kaveh, "You are such a pain in the ass!" Kaveh lifts an eyebrow at his words, " Me? A pain in the ass? Bet you never had a pain in the ass if i already hurt you there!?"

"Oh really, are you really being cocky with me now? How about i show you what a real pain in the as feels like!" Al Haitham yells at Kaveh,which he only laughs off. " I bet you can't! I believe you don't know what you're talking about." Al haitham walks up to him, making Kaveh back away until he feels the bed hit his legs.

Al Haithem pushes Kaveh onto the bed, to which Kaveh getts surprides and even a bit scared. "W- what are you doing?!" Kaveh exclaims with fear in his voice. Al Haitham can see and hear his fear. " You always talk big, but can you actually do it?" He sais while towering over Kaveh. Kaveh quickly realzes what he means and shock builds up all over his body. "You can't mean that seriously!"

Al Haitham looks down on him. "Oh I'm very serious, kaveh!" He sais, leaning down, now towering over him. He starts kissing Kaveh's neck.

Kaveh lets out a surprised gasp and turns red, " A-al Haitham! A-are you serious??" Kaveh lays his hands on his shoulders, pushing his nails into them. Al Haitham scoffs, "I won't repeat myself again Kaveh! I am very serious!" He sais with annoyance while ripping off his shirt and trailing kisses down his chest. Kaveh looks down, blushing and gasping louder. He lays one hand onto Al Haitham's head and claws himself into his hair. Al Haitham letts go of him and takes of Kaveh's pants, leaving him fully naked under him. Al Haitham openes his pants just enough to let his hardened cock spring out. "This is all your fault!" He whispers to Kaveh angrily.

Kaveh can only stare at Haitham's cock and turn bright red.

"I mean... we c-can talk about this!!!" He sais while swallowing nervously.

Haitham grabbs his hair and pulls his head up to his, now inches away from each other. "There is nothing to talk about here Kaveh! I have told you often enough and you can't seem to understand it this way, so i'll have to fuck it into your dense head!" Haitham sais with anger lingering in his voice and yanks Kaveh's head back, letting go of his hair.

Kaveh openes his eyes widely, scared of what Al Haitham just did. He unerstands that it would make no difference now when he would pay him back everything. Kaveh was searching for excuses to get out of this situation but couldn't find any. Al Haitham flipps him over on his stomach.

"Just behave for me!"

Al Haitham spreads his cheeks a bit, revealing his tight hole and licks his lipps at the sight. Kaveh blushes at this and hides his face in the blanket underneath him. He waits, scared for the first move from the other man and every second that passes feels like a minute. Al Haitham spitts on his fingers, spreading the liquid around his hole. "For fucks sake!" He whispers to himself as he ligns himself up to Kaveh's hole.

Kaveh turns his head to get a look of what hes doing. He bites his teeth together at the feeling of Al Haitam ligning himself up and grabbs the blanket tightly. Al Haitham ramms himself into Kaveh, letting out a sigh at the warm feeling of Kaveh's ass. He doesn't wait for him to adjust to the feeling and starts rocking his hips back and forth.

Kaveh lets out a screaming moan. He hoped for a little gentle gesture but when Al Haitham started to move he pushes his head into the bed, trying to silence his moans. Al Haitham grips his hair tightly, pushing him deeper into the bed. His other hand moves to his hips and pushes them up to get better acces. His movements get faster and harder wich causes a growl to leave his throat. When Kaveh hears his growl he starts to laugh through his moans into the bed. Al Haitham notices him laughing, slapping his ass as hard as possible. "What are you laughing at huh?! Who is the one getting fucked here? I guess i wasn't clear enough!" He sais as he stops all movements and pulls out again.

"If you move one bit it'll only get worse for you!" He commands as he leaves the room to get something. Kaveh turns around and his eyes follow him. He wipes away tears of pleasure and yells "HEY COME BACK!!" Al Haitham returns after a view seconds with a box in his hands.

"Well, since you find this so funny," he drops the box on the floor, " i'll have to make this less amusing to you!" He sais and pulls out a pair of handcuffs from the box on the floor. He puts them on Kaveh's wirsts behind his back. Kaveh grinns widely "I knew that you weren't a boring person Haitham~" He looks over his back at the cuffs. " And just so you know... I have been waiting for the moment you loose controll!"

Haitham looks at him with a raised eyebrow. "Oh really? well then I suppose you should make the most of It and enjoy this becouse it probably won't happen again... and I'm not going nicely on you!" Haitham whispers into his ear and pulls something else out of the box. He reveals a black Ballgag to Kaveh and moves to put it over his mouth.

"Maybe you'll shut up like this!" Kaveh widenes his eyes at the sight of the Ballgag. He tries to grab it so he can't put in on him but his hands won't budge in the chains. "Don't say you don't enjoy this yourself!" Kaveh moves his head around so Al Haitham can't put the gag on him.

"I never asked for you to be gentle!! So why would you make me shut up!"

"Stop fucking moving!" Haitham complained, struggling to put the gag on kaveh but manages to do so in the end. "Oh im enjoying this a lot! I'm having a great time! But maybe I should fuck you real slow and gentle since you seem to enjoy this too!" Al Haitham smirks down at him with evil eyes. Kaveh squnts and rolls his eyes. He tries to talk but nothing comes past the gag "Mpff-....mhpff-!" He sighs into the gag.

Al Haitham chckles at his try to protest, "What? having troube talkng? But tell me, what do you think of me fucking you gentle and slow... very slow? Or would you enjoy this too becouse you are such a slut? Oh wait! I forgot, you can't talk!" He sais with a chuckle. Kaveh lifts an eyebrow and tries to talk, only being able to make incoherent noises which no one would be able to understand. He shakes his head. Al Haitham looks at him with amusement in his eyes, "Aww look at you! Trying so hard with no avail! I almost feel bad!" Al Haitham sais as he ligns himself up to his entrance again, pushing in all the way, resting his cock there. kaveh lets out a squeal with a heavy sigh.

He looks over again and tries to move his hips. Al Haitham grabs his hips at this, "What do you think you're doing?! You have no say in this! You brought this uppon yourself!" He scolds him. Kaveh tries to argue back but fails due to the gag. He lets his head fall onto the bed in exhaustion. Al Haitham starts to move his hips again, slowly. "You like it like that? Is that what you wanted?" He teases.

Kaveh bites into the Ballgag and moans quietly. He knows that if he shakes his head, Haitham won't pick up his pace. Al Haitham laughs at him, "You know i might make you pay the rent like this! Since you are such a slut this will be how you pay the bill from now on!" Al haitham decides as he takes of the gag from kaveh's face so he can talk again. Kaveh swallows the spit that was collecting in his mouth the entire time and breathes heavily. "A-alright then... but don't call me a ahh~ a slut!" Kaveh sais trying to sound uninerested. Haitham can only smirk at his words. "Oh don't deny that you love it!"

Al Haitham starts to move faster again, hitting Kaveh's prostate, to which Kaveh moans out loudly,

"I-i willhh deny lies!! Mhmmm~!" Al Haitham looks at him, knowing very well how much he enjoys this. "It doesn't matter how much you deny it it's the truth! You are a filthy slut!" Kaveh bites his teeth together, "If thathhh~t's so... then why do you do this? Huhhh?~" Kaveh moans into the blancket," Y-you seen to enjoy this too!" Al Haitham smirks at his words, "I mean i never said that I wasn't! But at least I can pay my own bills!" Kaveh growls at him with anger and lust in his eyes. Al Haithams movements quicken, making the bed slam against the wall.

He grabs a chunck of his hair and pulls his head up. Spit is running down Kaveh's mouth and more lust builds up with every thrust of Al Haithams hips against Kaveh's ass. "N-nowhhh~ Don't be ahhh~ gentlee~!!" kaveh tries to say. Haitham looks down at his fucked out expresion with a satisfied look on his face. "Ahh Fuck~!" Al Haitham curses as he can feel Kaveh clench around him. Kaveh can feel his legs start to shake and his vision gets blurry. "J-just a biiiiittt...~" Kaveh begs. "Are you close already? Well im not done with you yet!" Al Haithams movements slow down with his words, almost fully stopping again. Kaveh looks over his shoulder with a mad face. "What are you doing?" He asks as he can feel his orgasm fade away.

He tries to make Haitham move again but fails. "I'm giving you a punishment! What else did you think?" Al Haitham now fully stops every movement, letting his cock rest. His hands move up to his nipples, playing with them. "I did tell you that i'm not going easy on you, did i?" he asks with a teasing tone. Kaveh bites his lip and tries to shake him off, " Mhmmmmm~ P-punishment, that is s-something mhmm~ else!"

Al Haitham laughs at his statement, "Well it seems you never got a real punishment, since you enjoyed them all, didn't you? Becouse you're a slut! And you enjoy being punished! But i do feel honored to be the first one to put you in your place!" Haitham sais as he moves his hands down to Kaveh's rock hard errection.

Kaveh moans, he can feel himself leaking onto the sheets. "You are ahh~ younger so you should still pay me some respect!" Kaveh tries to grab his hand to stop him but can't move them becouse of the restrictions holding him back. " What if I tell them about this?! Mm...~" Kaveh threatens. "Tell who? You do know I am the acting grand sage! I have a higher position than you! You can't tell me shit!" Al Haitham sais as he starts to strocke Kaveh's errection, moving his thumb over his tip. Kaveh moans at the feeling, Ahh~♡ Ahhhlhaithammhh mhm...!"

Al Haitham can tell that he's trying to surpress his moans but fails miserably. he strockes him faster and starts to move his hips again at a fast pace. "Yes, just like that! Let everyone hear you so they all know how much of a slut you are!"

Kaveh gets angry at Al Haitham for caling him a slut again. He wants to talk back but is quickly interuptet by his orgasm builing up again, Ahhh~ fuck!!" Al Haitham smirks at how he tired and failed. He moves even faster now, " Tell me, do you want to be able to walk tomorrow?" Kaveh nods heavily at his statement, clenching his cheeks as he cumms. A loud moan leaves his lips as he squirts cum all over the sheets below him.

Al Haithams face scrunches up. "Did you seriously just cum?!" he pulls out of him and turns him around on his back, slaping him in the face. "DID I FUCKING ALLOW YOU TO CUM?!!" He screams at Kaveh with pure anger in his eyes. Kaveh's eyes widen in fear, scared for his life.

His whole body shakes and the part that Al Haitham just hit turns a bright red. A tear running down Kaveh's face, finally understanding that he realy wasn't joking. "I-i.. I'm sorry..." kaveh whispers with a hurt voice. "Oh now you're sorry? i didn't know you know these words! Is my punishment this effective? I guess i should do this more often then!" Al Haitham sais as he slapps him accros the face again.

"But since you interrupted me, I'll have to start again!" Kaveh stares at the grinn on Haithams face after the words left his lips, with a red hitted face. "P-please... not like that... Open my cuffs... please!" Kaveh begs, trying to back up. Al Haitham moves to the box again, taking out a vibrator. He pulls Kaveh back and inserts the Vibrator in his hole, letting it rest there.

"You talk to much!" He sais as he grabs the Ballgag, putting it back in Kaveh's mouth. He turned the Vibrator on with a remote. Haitham takes a step backand and looks at Kaveh with a disgusted look. Kaveh bites the gag and tears run down his face. He looks at Haitham with a begging look on his face trying to clench the vibrator out. "Look at you, It's amusing to see you struggle against the restraints!" Al Haitham walks back up to him again, taking his cock and strocking it again. Kaveh moans into the gag

"mhmmmpf~ gnnnn~" He looks down him and tries to push him away with his knees, but due to the vibrator his legs are to shaky.

"How much longer will you try until you realize that it's pointless?" Al Haitham asks as he strockes his cock faster and faster, setting the vibrator to the highest setting.

Kaveh gasps loudly and screams out moans. He want's to answer but knows that he's right and it's pointless. Al Haitham keeps his movements up but suddenly stops, turning the vibrator off. "You know what, I got a better idea!" Kaveh takes a deep breath at his words, scared what he might do.

Al Haitham sitts Kaveh up at the edge of the bed, taking off the gag. "You don't deserve to cum again! But I do!" Kaveh nods and just wants this to go by as fast as possible. He does not dare to speak a word but with just a quick look at Kaveh's face you can tell that hes affraid.

Al Haitham smiles at him, "What are you so affraid of? You look so pathetic!" He grabbs Kaveh's chin roughly, opening his mouth. For a short second Kaveh thinks about bitting his hand but the thought quickly leaves his mind as he thinks about what might happen after that. Kaveh looks up at him as Haitham leans down to him and spitts in his mouth. "Don't even think about doing something that you'll regret!" Al Haitham warns him and doesn't even wait for Kaveh to swallow his spit or respond and starts to hammer his cock into Kaveh's mouth. Kaveh starts to chocke as Haitham fucks his face. Tears build up at the corners of his eyes.

Kaveh closes his eyes and tries to work with his thounge but Haitham is to fast for him to do anything besides just sit there and take it.

Al Haitham lets his head fall back and moans out, "Fuck yes~" Hands now both at the back of Kaveh's head, grabbing his hair tightly. He moves his head faster and sighs out. Kaveh can feel his tip in the back of his throat, making him chocke even more. He tires to back up a little but the tight grip Al Haitham has on his hair makes it impossible. Al Haitham can feel his orgasm grow closer as he keeps fucking Kaveh's mouth roughly.

Strings of curses leave Al Haithams mouth as he looks down at Kaveh.

Kaveh looks up at him with tears running down his face. He gags one last time, making his throat tighten up. Al Haitham moans at the feeling of his tight throat. He can feel himself cumming in Kaveh's mouth filling his throat up.

He looks down at him to see the look on his face as he cumms.

His eyes widen at the feeling of Haitham filling his mouth up. Kaveh swallos as Al Haitham removes his cock with a smirk.

"Yess~ Just like that! Swallow it all. I don't want you to waste a single drop!" Al Haitham cooes.

Kaveh's eyes are red and his mouth is covered with drool. Al Haitham removes his hands from Kaveh's hair and gives him a light slap on the cheek. He moves over to uncuff Kaveh after running a thumb over his lips, taking the cum that was resting on the corner of his mouth and shove it into his mouth. "Congratulations! You just payed your part of the bill fully for the first time." Kaveh licks his thumb clean, not sure how to respond to his words. Kaveh moved to touch his wrists, hissing at the burning sensation the marks leave behind, after he was uncuffed.

"Can you stand?" Al Haitham asks with a smal hint of concern in his voice. Kaveh nods and stands up but his shaky legs make it hard for him.

"Can you leave me alone now...?" Kaveh asks, not sure if he's allowed to talk again. Al Haitham sees how he struggles and helps him stand. He doesn't say a word and walks them both towards the bathroom where he sitts Kaveh down and starts running a bath for them. Kaveh just watches him, not sure why he would do such a nice gesture after everything that just happened. "Thank... you." Kaveh whispers.

Al Haitham looks over to him.

"It's Ok! I know that you have it rough sometimes and I'm sorry for getting carried away just now!" He moves over to Kaveh to help him stand up again and walk towards the bathtub with him. They step into the bathtub and Al Haitham lets Kaveh rest against his chest, softly strocking his hair.

Kaveh listhens to his heartbeat, not knowing why Al Haitham would do such a nice thing. "Still... thank you for the bath..." Al Haitham enjoys the moment of being in the tub with Kaveh. In secret He actually realy liked the architect. "Please there's no need to thank me!"

Kaveh rests a hand onto Haitham's chest and moves to look up at him.

"I think we should talk about this..." Kaveh sais as he moves his hands to the water to play with it. "You know I can't move out and... we will see each other every day.." kaveh sais with concern in his voice. Al Haitham sitts up to look at him with a worried look, caressig his cheek. "Yes, i know! I don't actually want you to move out anyway." Kaveh gives him a surprised look at his words.

"Y-you don't? why did you say oherwise then... always?" "Becouse i believe that you don't like me very much and just pretend to be nice to me becouse i let you live here." Al Haitham sais with a sigh.

Kaveh looks now directly into his eyes, "That's not true! I would never live with someone I hate!" Kaveh blushes a bit at his own words, "So don't say that!" Al Haitham's eyes widen at his words, "Really?

I thought that since we are pretty much always arguing." Kaveh looks down. "I know... I am sorry but sometimes I just can't stop... I like you and this is how i show it..."

Al Haitham holds his face gently. "It's Ok! I do like you too... a lot actually!" Kaveh looks at him with a surprised look and red cheeks. He lays his hand on his while his eyes wander to his lips. Ofcourse Al Haitham notices him lookin at his lips and licks them, slowly inching forward to his face, closing his eyes as he kisses him softly.

Kaveh's heart starts to pound against his chest as he kisses him back. He can feel a strong feeling of love on his lips, wich still carry the taste of his cum from earlyer.

Al Haitham tries to hold the kiss as long a possible, breaking it when they both runn out of air. He rests his forehead against Kaveh's, breathing heavily. Kaveh can only think about the kiss just now also breathing heavly. He lays a hand on his chest again, slowly running it down under the water.

Al haitham looks at him a bit surprised, " Kaveh, what are you doing?" He asks softly. kaveh leans in to his ear whispering, "Just relax... my love." His hand reaches to his V-line and traces it slowly with his fingertips.

Al haithams eyes widen as he letts out a low moan, "Kaveh~~." Kaveh blushes at his moans and starts to kiss his neck gently. His fingers move from his V-line to his inner thigh, moving closer to his middle. Haitham shutts his eyes, letting his head fall back against the tub and giving Kaveh all the room on his neck that he could possibly get.

Kaveh starts to leave small hickeys all over his neck. His hand reaches to his dick, slowly grabbing it. "Why did you never tell me that you like me?" Kave whispers as he starts to move his hand to his tip to lay a finger on top. Haitham moans out at his touch, " Because ahh~ because I didn't think you'd like me back~" He breathes out.

Kaveh smiles softly and kisses his neck again. He grabs his dick hardly for a short second and his other hand moves to let the water drain out of the tub.

While the water runs out he caresses his upper body with kisses, moving to his nipple.

He slowly starts to lick cricles around it and starts to trail kisses down.

Al Haitham moans out Kaveh's name at his touch, "Kaveh~~ nghhh~~!" His moans sound like music to Kaveh's ears, different from the moans in the bedroom.

He kisses his way down to his stomach and lower. He stops at the base of his cock, seeing it throbbing for care from the architect. His tounge ran along the base while his hand grabbs his balls gently. Kaveh kisses his shaft gently and licks his way up to the tip while he never stops looking up at Al Haitham.

Al Haitham looks down at Kaveh, moaning all over the place as he rests his hand on Kaveh's head lightly. "My god Kaveh~." Kaveh smiles into his work, looking at his dick again.

His one hand masages his balls while the other one grabs his shaft. He kisses the tip and looks up for a reaktion from Haitahm before he fully takes his dick in his mouth fully. He moves his head up and down slowly while his thounge takes care of his tip. After a short while he starts to move faster, grabbing his balls harder. His eyes fill with tears of joy and they both enjoy the moment. Haithem can't stop maning his name, twitching at the feeling of kaveh's tounge taking care of his tip.

"Kaveh~ you don't have to do this~." Al Haitham sais between moans of pleasure, feeling a bit bad about his previous actions. Kaveh lets go of his dick to answer, "Oh... but I want to do this... I finaly know that you like me back and that is enough for me!" He sais before taking him back into his mouth, moving his head faster this time, moving his hand against his head on his shaft. whith his other hand he moves to touch himself. He moans into his work, Al Haitham feeling the vibrations of his voice on his tip. he licks over his tip and takes him deeper into his mouth again.

Haitham looks down at Kaveh, moaning louder every time the vibrations of Kaveh's moans hit his cock. Kaveh smiles into the blow job as he moves faster. His tip touches the back of his throat and he clenches his throat together. He starts to move his hand on his cock and moans at the pleasure of sucking him off and touching himself. Haitham's head falls back again as he can't stop moaning. "Fuck~~ Kaveh~ fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

Al Haitham lets out chains of curses and moans as he can feel his orgasm grow closer. "I'm gonna cum~~!" He letts the older one know. Kaveh closes his eyes and starts to suck on his tip. He moves his thounge over it feeling the pree cum. Haitham squezes his eyes shut and moans loudly as his orgasm washes over him, squirting his cum in Kaveh's mouth for the second time today. Kaveh stops moving and licks hip tip clean, looking up at Al Haitham covered in sweat. He kisses his way back up again and rests his head against his chest again. Kaveh closes the drain again, letting the tub fill up again. Al Haitham breathes heavily as he kisses him and strockes his hair again softly.

I love you Kaveh~! I mean it!" "i love you too, Al Haitham♡!"

#alhaitham #kavetham #kaveh x alhaitham #roleplay #filthy

10 notes · View notes

sab3rto0thed · 7 months

Text

i dreamed of you again.

you were you except your face kept shifting. you tended to like the guise of the boy that asked for my number at a convenience store. he said we should go hiking. we didn't talk after he learned i was eighteen and he was twenty-three. you were never above shit like that.

you were reciting richard siken to me, in the dream; which is an irony that i find exhausting. over and over again you said love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. it's like a religion. it's terrifying. no one will ever want to sleep with you.

i woke because my spine was scraping the mattress. i could feel the gristle of it, the roughspun hues of my skin. my body was still a little foreign to me, though i was learning what she knew.

it was deep in the night but the light creeped under the frame of my bedroom door. i walked with heavy feet, making no sound, across the wooden floorboards.

there was a girl curled up on the couch, surrounded by the dim light of her house. she kept asking you to come over. she said please. she knew how to beg.

during the summer, you took her hand and turned her palm up to the sun to check for splinters when you were both done lifting heavy wooden splints. during spring, you held her tight in the backseat of any car she wanted, an either/or situation. in autumn, you slung her around by her ankles and kissed her neck. in the winter, you checked for scars on her wrists.

i didn't eat for weeks, she murmured.

you should have called me, you told her. i would have come over. i would have made you something.

she should have said you never come when i ask you to. my hope would have just killed me.

she didn't say it, but you both knew it was the truth.

the poem is called litany in which certain things are crossed out, i told you. you head was turned. you didn't listen, unrepentant.

i bashed your face into the wooden floorboards. i am still talking to you about help. i still do not have these luxuries. that was what i told you. another quote from the same poem. you would laugh at me. you were always sick in the head.

there is a girl curled on the sofa. she is sick and starving. you know exactly who hit her and where they placed their palms. you want to be the next one to put your fingers around her throat. you are both unrepentant in nasty ways.

love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love, you said. you slipped a few pills down my throat when you kissed me.

when i was laying with a different boy, i told him about you. he stroked my hair. i can imagine that.

he liked me so much. he thought my eyes were pretty. you never took more than a glancing hit, but i knew everything about you. the white scars on your knuckles. your blue jeans that never fit. your hips, too thin. the one truth we had in common.

you ruined me.

sometimes, you dream. my head resting against your thigh. your foot on the gas. crashing the car.

when i was littler, i would wake in a cold sweat, my spine against the mattress. i was thinking about god. i would run to my mother.

that was how it was, on that couch. when i thought about you, i was terrified, slick with sweat, my spine protruding from my throat. it was just you and me. there was no one else that could break the sound barrier.

i made a friend that had suffering rearranged the right way, with all the correct letters. but he had your laugh and your voice, your endearing sense of humor. the other night, i saw a boy that looked at me a second too long. he had the sharp cheekbones, the messy hair.

i want to be brave, but i feel so small around you. like a little kid.

hi, sweetheart, i would say to you. i would cut.

i take the girl from the couch. she is very small. she hasn't eaten in days, and no one is checking in on her.

come on, sweetheart, i tell her. let's go to bed.

we go back to bed, and our spines don't scrape the mattress clean open. you never come, but others do. they don't try to choke her.

you will die before me. if i have no other gratification, i have that.

2 notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 3 months

Text

episode 1: old scars and future hearts [fast times and fast nights]

featured: kelly piquet, max verstappen, daniil kvyat, jupiter nightshade, venus nightshade, roxanne castle, fernando alonso

word count: 3498

kelly piquet and max verstappen? no, there was a time — for several years — that it was kelly piquet and daniil kvyat. while they were never on the grid simultaneously, they were always together, be it when daniil was in the toro rosso or red bull, or kelly when she was in the williams or the red bull. it came as a shock to everyone when they announced their split. because, well, they have a kid: a bright, beautiful and sweet girl named penelope. what business did max verstappen have being involved with red bull driver, kelly piquet, right after the end of that relationship?

kelly piquet (red bull driver): daniil and i split a very long time ago. we are doing great at co-parenting penelope. she understands that we no longer live in the same house. she has handled it very well up to now, even with the addition of max into our little family. it should be a good sign, but it's kind of worrying, realistically.

→ daniil’s apartment, january 2024

penelope lies across the sofa with her head on daniil's lap as they watch the program on the television screen. penelope lifts her head and turns to lie on her stomach, resting her cheek on his clothed lap and looks up at him.

"are you coming with mummy and me to bahrain?"

"aw, p," daniil sighs, brushing away the hair that's fallen on her face. "you know i don't work in formula 1 anymore, right? i race other cars now."

"yeah," penelope sighs. "but you used to come with me to mummy's races."

"uncle max will take you with him," daniil laughs. it's funny because they'd just had this same conversation last night right before she fell asleep. perhaps it was the sleepiness taking over her and now she doesn't remember the conversation ever happening?

or maybe she's asking one more time for good measure.

penelope purses her lips and raises an eyebrow. "uncle max isn't my new daddy, is he?"

"do you not like him? i thought mummy said you were getting along well?"

"i do." she scrambles to sit up and sighs, throwing her head back. "what am i going to do while mummy is racing? what if i get bored? there's no one to play with!"

"silly!" daniil laughs, hands grabbing her stomach to tickle her. penelope shrieks, shrivelling up into a ball as she tries to fight his hands. "uncle max will be with you!”

max verstappen (head of rbr advertising, kelly piquet’s boyfriend): the goal isn’t to be her dad. she already has one, so that’s not what i’m here for. but we do get along well! she’s a very lovely kid.

daniil kvyat: p always talks about max and how much fun he is. she’s always liked him in the red bull garage, so there’s no hard feelings there.

→ max’s condo complex, january 2024

“maxie!” penelope shrieks, throwing her arms around max’s legs.

“oh, hey, mate,” daniil greets him with a handshake and a hug. “how’s everything been?”

max smiles. “pretty good!” he looks down at penelope. “did you have fun at your dad’s, p?”

penelope nods before running into his apartment. “yeah! we went to the water park!” she holds her arms out. “where’s the cats?”

“p, be gentle with the cats!” daniil calls out into the apartment before looking at max apologetically. “i’m sorry, mate. she really missed the cats. even begged me to get one so that she’d have cats in two homes.”

max presses his lips together. “it’s a trap. don’t get cats, mate. they’re amazing, but god.”

daniil laughs, handing max penelope’s bag. “i seriously considered it for a while! but i won’t be around much, so it seems cruel.”

“i know what you mean,” max grins. “i saw you’re driving for prema this year in wec! congrats, mate!”

“it’s exciting! how’s the red bull car?”

max shrugs. “haven’t seen it yet. next week, maybe. right before the public launch.”

daniil sighs. “well, i’ve got to run. i’ll see you next weekend to pick her up! be safe!”

daniil kvyat: we’re all adults. no reason to harbour feelings just because he’s with my ex-girlfriend.

❝do you think penelope will try and be a racer herself like her mum? or do you reckon she’s got no interest in the racing scene like both of you?❞

kelly piquet: preferably not! [laughs] it’s such a cutthroat sport — i’d prefer if she didn’t subject herself to this kind of stress. but i’ll support her if she wants to.

→ daniil's apartment, january 2024

penelope jumps off the couch. "can we watch tv?"

daniil walks out of the kitchen with two cups, both filled with orange juice. he walks over to the small girl cuddled up on the couch in her pyjamas with a stuffed kangaroo. "what do you feel like watching, p?"

"can we rewatch one of mummy's races?" penelope asks, slowly moving to hang her head at the edge of the couch. "i want to watch the one where she's racing against auntie jupiter."

daniil kvyat (prema driver for wec, kelly piquet's ex-boyfriend): p has been very fond of jupiter since they met in the garage of the red bull a couple years ago. to p, jupiter is the world champion of her era. she loves roxanne, sure, but she sees jupiter in a whole different light. jupiter and i are on good terms – doesn't really matter to me if p spends time with her.

kelly piquet: actually, i don't want my kid around jupiter. i don't need my sweet baby taking after her recklessness.

jupiter nightshade (red bull driver, 4-time world champion): baby penelope, oscar and i love playing with hot wheels in my garage – i let her win all the time. oscar, though, is quite ruthless.

oscar piastri (mechanical engineering major at the university of bristol, jupiter nightshade's boyfriend): [giggling softly with a hand over his mouth] it's funny. i'm the reigning champion in our hot wheels competition. p doesn't mind, though. she's a good sport.

→ silverstone gp, 2023

jupiter sighs, dropping to her knees as she wraps her arms around the young girl. penelope scrunches face face as her hands come up to cover her eyes. behind them, oscar pumps his fist into the air, hopping over to the pair on the ground.

jupiter whirls around slightly, swatting at her dancing boyfriend. she shoots him a glare and gestures at the sobbing girl in her arms.

he clears his throat and wipes the smile from his face. he purses his lips together as he faces the crying girl. "aw, p! i thought you said it was okay if uncle ozzy won?" oscar coos, tapping her shoulder lightly. "do you want to play a second round? i'm sure i won out of pure luck."

penelope peeks from jupiter's shoulder with a hand on her lips. "yes."

oscar piastri: that's what she said to me when we first started playing. how was i supposed to kn– [throws his arms into his lap and sighs heavily] i'm not very good with kids.

kelly piquet: oscar, i like. he's an honest kid. he's the kind of influence i want p around. but i don't know... him with jupiter? she's a bad influence on him. but for some reason, i can't keep p away from her.

→ bahrain, pre-season testing, 2024

max walks into the red bull racing home, a bag over his shoulder with a tiny hand wrapped around his. he looks down at the younger girl and shakes her hand. “excited to visit mummy at work?”

penelope, with one hand on the railings and the other locked in max’s, stomps up the stairs as she hums happily. “yes! i wanna try on mummy’s new helmet. and the car! yeah, her car!”

he laughs, grabbing both her hands and lifting her into the air for the last few steps. he puts her down at the top of the steps and drops her hands. “we can watch from mummy’s garage with uncle christian!”

“you mean grandpa christian!” penelope giggles with a hand in her mouth. she whirls around towards the long hallway stretch and screeches. she takes off, screaming for her auntie jupiter, stopping right by her door.

“p, shouldn’t we find mummy first?”

max could hear kelly’s relentless reminders to him this morning before she had left their hotel room. make sure penelope doesn't find jupiter. but she is a five-year-old: there is no way he will drag her into the politics of everything.

“but we’re already here!” she balls her hands into fists, winding her arm back to start knocking on the door.

but the door opens before she can try and grab jupiter’s attention. a taller figure towers over her, immediately swooping her up into their arms. “baby penelope!”

she screeches and writhes in laughter when fingers dig into the side of her stomach. “auntie jupiter!”

“i thought i heard your tiny little feet against the floor,” jupiter giggles, promptly putting her back on the ground. she drops to her knees to meet the girl’s height and keeps a hand on her back. “how have you been? did you miss me?”

“is uncle ozzy here?” penelope cranes her neck to try and get a glance inside the room. “i brought cookies!”

jupiter looks behind her, finding max smiling at her politely with a paper bag in his hands. “we bought them on the way.”

“uncle ozzy will be here later,” jupiter smiles. “did you enjoy the holidays?”

“yes! i had two christmases!” penelope beams, holding two fingers up to emphasise her point. “i had so many presents!”

jupiter tilts her head. “what new toys did you get?”

penelope’s eyes widen, shaking excitedly in her arms. “i got a new hot wheels set. can we play later?” she grabs the sleeve of jupiter’s shirt. “please? with uncle ozzy? i won’t cry this time.”

the driver laughs. “of course! i spent christmas with uncle ozzy in melbourne. he’s got this koala stuffy that we bought for you; i’ll give it to you later, okay?”

penelope claps, nodding. “okay!”

jupiter nightshade: my dislike for piquet has absolutely nothing to do with baby penelope. daniil and i were teammates a while back, so that also helped, i guess. and how can you not love baby penelope? she is absolutely adorable and delightful! i've got two siblings of my own – both considerably younger than i am – so that experience really helps with my budding friendship with penelope.

venus nightshade (sophomore ferrari driver): my name is venus nightshade – i'm jupiter nightshade's little sister. this is my second year in formula one and i drive with ferrari.

→ monaco gp, 2023

mercedes team radio sonnet pham: it looks like they're going to sacrifice little nightshade

❝venus nightshade, the pole sitter for the baku track finds herself crossing the chequered flag in p5 after a late pitstop. while her teammate, veteran, natalia bunbury won the monaco gp, with fellow rookie, aella gutierrez just three seconds behind in the mclaren.❞

venus stands by the red bull racing home, hands over her eyes as she looks up hopelessly at her older sister. “i don’t understand. i could have converted that pole to a win.”

“they didn’t pit you when your tyres have deteriorated?” jupiter presses her palm against her forehead, pushing her hair away from her face. she has a hand on her hip as she turns away to start pacing. “that’s so stupid! christian never would have missed that!”

“i had no grip on the track so i spun out at the corner.” the younger girl drops her head with a frown. “i’m sorry.”

jupiter halts where she is. she turns around sharply and raises an eyebrow. “why are you apologising?”

venus, with tears in her eyes just sighs. she looks away and turns away from jupiter. “i feel kinda hopeless. i can’t go against the team.”

“yes, you can,” jupiter scoffs with a raised eyebrow. “do you want me to talk to them? fred’s gonna get an–“

“piter,” venus sighs tiredly, shaking her head. “don’t. i’m already talked about enough because i’m related to you.”

“but venus-”

“jupiter,” venus repeats her name in a firmer tone. jupiter finally takes a look at her younger sister and there’s a certain assuredness to her that makes her stand down. “don’t do anything. stay out of this.”

the red bull driver’s shoulder slumps slightly with a soft sigh. she holds her hands up to surrender to venus’s wishes. “okay.”

but when you know you’ve got the power to make at least one person’s life better, you’d do it, right? especially when that person is your little sister trying to make a name for herself in the same sport you’re in? you’d want to see her succeed as much as you have.

→ bahrain gp, 2024

“what the fuck, jupiter! i told you to stay out of it!” venus shrieks, throwing her arms into the air. “i’m only a rookie – what right have i got to demand being prioritised over nat?”

jupiter rolls her eyes with an exasperated sigh. “i didn’t tell fred to ‘prioritise’ you. i told him to get his shit together before he loses a good rookie.”

“that’s the same thing!” venus runs her hands through her hair, laughing dryly as she tugs at her roots. “i told you to stay out of it! that’s something i can only say if i can prove to the team that i’m worth considering for the long term.”

“you’ve proved yourself enough,” jupiter answers, shooting her sister an incredulous stare. “you’re almost always on par with nat every weekend. i was trying to help!”

“well, you didn’t! now everyone thinks i’m trying to use my world-champion sister for an easy way out!”

“who said that to you? tell me.”

“jupiter! you don’t get it!”

jupiter nightshade: i was just trying to help her out. i mean, it’s been an ongoing problem with ferrari, right? i can’t speak for nat, but now that my sister’s on the team… how could i have not?

venus nightshade: it’s not the imagine i want everyone to have of me. i want to be respected and climb my way up just like everybody else. i don’t want to use my relation with jupiter to get there.

roxanne castle (aston martin driver, 2-time world champion): i get where venus is coming from, but also jupiter’s side of things. when i started as a rookie, nando was already a driver in f1. he tried his best to make my transition into the sport easier by pulling strings and doing whatever he could. sure, i got a lot of flack for it, but in his eyes, he just wanted to help.

❝reports say that roxanne castle and fernando alonso were avoiding one another at the paddocks today. could the rumours that fernando was pulling strings behind the scenes come to fruition? is it safe to say that it’s coming between their relationship?❞

❝some staff members of ferrari say that they heard screaming and fighting coming from fernando alonso’s driver’s room.❞

fernando alonso (2-time world champion): just wanted to see my wife (then girlfriend) succeed. [shrugs] what did you expect me to do?

— breaking: fernando alonso announces retirement from formula 1 at the end of the 2023 season.

— breaking: daniel ricciardo to drive for aston martin in 2024

— breaking: red bull junior driver, charlotte miller, promoted to the alphatauri team after ricciardo’s departure

→ abu dhabi gp, 2023

❝this is your last race in your very long career in formula 1. how do you feel?❞

fernando slightly frowns, glancing at roxanne at the far end of the couch. “pretty good, actually. but, i won’t disappear altogether — i’m helping aston martin with car developments and other things with the car.”

he hears an exasperated sigh from the other end of the couch. he moves slightly and laughs at his wife rolling her eyes.

“she is not very happy with my retirement.”

roxanne picks up her mic and wipes a tear from her eye. “i like being teammates with him.”

fernando grins. “i think i will miss her more than i miss racing.”

→ parc ferme, abu dhabi, 2023

❝we bid goodbye to yet another racing legend, fernando alonso. there he is, embracing his teammate and wife, roxanne castle right by their cars.❞

roxanne pulls away, tears now falling out of her eyes. “i’m going to miss you, my love.”

“i’m not going anywhere,” fernando laughs, cupping her cheeks. “i will be with you in the garage!”

“not every weekend,” roxanne frowns. “it’s what i’ve gotten used to.”

“mi amor,” fernando pulls her into his arms again. “do not worry. i am your designated bag holder every time i am here.”

it’s not easy, as they’ve reiterated numerous times, to be romantically involved and be racing one another on the track. somehow, they did manage to see it through — they’re married now, duh. but fighting on the track in separate teams is different from being teammates.

— breaking: fernando alonso set to replace sebastian vettel in aston martin

roxanne castle: it was a pretty good transition. i think if we were teammates when we were younger, we never would have gotten married.

fernando alonso: she’s right. when i was approached by aston martin, i thought it was a joke. i mean… putting me up against my wife? that has got to be some kind of twisted prank, right? but at that point in our lives — and career — we were mature enough to separate it from our marriage.

racing alongside one another… does that remind you of somebody else?

— f3 prema drivers, aella gutierrez and logan sargeant, teammates turned lovers?

— breaking: aella gutierrez in the running for top 3 in the drivers’ championship after singapore gp podium

but that’s a story for another day. fernando’s decision to retire, allegedly, wasn’t taken seriously by roxanne at first especially after his performance with the team.

roxanne castle: it’s unfair. when he told me he was thinking of retiring, i didn’t think he meant now. i tried to convince him otherwise but he said he is very sure about this decision. i will miss him, definitely. we were together almost every weekend — no, everyday — for the past 18 years.

→ spain, february 2024

roxanne comes up behind fernando, pulling his shirt down his arms. she wraps her arms around his torso and hums. “i will miss you this weekend.”

“mi amor, i wish i could come with you,” fernando sighs, turning to face her. he watches as she takes a step back, pulling down on his shirt as she starts buttoning it herself. “but they need me at the factory this weekend instead of the paddock.”

“i know,” she sighs tiredly. “it’s just going to be so weird walking in without you.”

fernando laughs. “i know. i feel weird not being there with you.”

roxanne tugs on the shirt and straightens it out for him. “you’ll call me in the evening though, right? then you wouldn’t feel so far away.”

fernando alonso: when i made the decision to retire, all i could i think of is that it’s time to open up a spot for a new rookie… like seb did last year. i’ve had a good run.

he’s right. for once, it actually ended up with a rookie getting the seat. alphatauri is taking a chance on junior driver, charlotte miller, to drive alongside yuki tsunoda this year. kelly piquet’s contract expires at the end of the season; they will all be fighting for that second seat alongside jupiter nightshade.

charlotte miller (rookie, alphatauri driver): i’ve just entered the sport so i don’t really have much high expectations for myself getting that seat. but, i will be working towards that goal to the best of my ability this year.

❝2023 f2 runner-up, charlotte miller, will be joining us on the track as an alphatauri driver. the question is will she wind up being the better choice instead of liam lawson, red bull reserve driver, and boyfriend?❞

@cashtons-wife @darleneslane @angsthology

#max verstappen x oc #fernando alonso x oc #logan sargeant x oc #formula one oc #f1 oc #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x oc #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke ftfn

27 notes · View notes

222hopelessromantic444 · 1 year

Text

My angel pt.2

Tw: not much blood anymore, still some angst but a happy end dw

"Wait y/n-" now realising what he had said, he stumbled his way after you, "You know I love you right? I love you more than anything- you can't leave me- what am I supposed to do without you?"

"I don't know- maybe get a life or something? Look at you- Jared you look awful. You are breaking my heart every single time you leave this fucking apartment. I can't trust you anymore." your once loud and angry voice getting more and more silent towards the end.

The room went silent for quite some time, the air being as thick as ever and the soft familiar tune of the radio from across the room could be heard again. With wobbly stepps Jared carefully made his way to you, giving you time to stop him in his tracks. Now, only centimeters between you two, his hand made it's way to your cheek.

"I'm sorry. I mean it." now even tears leaving his eyes. "I know I've been distant lately and I know I left you alone a lot. But I still love you okay? You are the best thing that ever happened to my life and I'm a fool for treating you the way I did. If I could take all your pain go away I would. I would do anything for you. Even if it meant leaving you for the better. But I'm beginning you to give me another chance. If I fuck it up this time you'll never have to see me again but please, please let me try to do better. Because if I had to live a life without you, I don't know if it would be worth living at all. You are my everything. My angel, my world, the reason I should get up in the morning. Please, y/n I'm begging you."

Word for word, all the anger that you kept inside, all the worries and the empty feelings that keep you up at night left your body. It felt like a heavy weight being lifted off of your mind and thrown out of the kitchen window. "You won't leave?" your voice now weak and raspy from all the yelling and almost a little bit naive.

"Never again. I'll get better I promise." a soft smile made it's way to his bruised lips, making him flinch a little bit at the sudden movement, which only left him to smile even more. You couldn't hold back a quiet giggle.

You really loved him. You loved his stupid jokes, his unnaturally blonde hair, his voice when he sang you to sleep whenever you had a nightmare, his goofy smile whenever he watched you do the most normal things. To him you were perfect. Just the fact that you choose him, a school drop out with no future, made him want to change for the better.

To change for you.

"I still hate you, silly." a sheepishly smile now even creeping onto your lips, "Sometimes you're really unbelievable." you added, your hands now resting on his shoulders, while he lowered his to your waist.

"I know- I know. But I'll do better. I'll be the best boyfriend you've ever seen, just wait- tomorrow I'm making you breakfast in bed and we will spend the whole day together watching TV and talking about how awful it must be to be a professional broom advertiser like that one guy on channel 5." his eyes glowing at the thought of spending time with you.

"Sure of course." you laugh at his comment, gently pulling him onto the couch. "But get well first okay? I'll get you some ice and if you don't fell better tomorrow I will call an ambulance- even if it's against your will, honey. Now sleep well 'angel face'."

"What have I done to deserve you. I love you. Sleep well darling." he said before calmly leaning in, placing a kiss on your forehead.

#angel face fight club #angel face #angel face x reader #fight club x reader #fight club

6 notes · View notes

blossom-hwa · 2 years

Text

these endless summer nights | c.yj

inspired by the song endless summer by cashae. you should give it a listen :) also I am experimenting w new fic layouts so sorry if everything’s a little different atm 💕

(note: this was originally posted for svt hoshi but I thought the concept fit yeonjun will enough with a few tweaks for character/personality - this is NOT plagiarism!)

Pairing: Yeonjun x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, university!au, summer romance!au

Triggers: allusions to sex (nothing graphic), drinking

Word Count: 7k

This summer feels endless, spent in each other’s arms.

Hoshi (SVT) Ver. | TXT Masterlist

You got me wrapped around your finger

Every moment I see you

At the end of the night I’m begging please, don’t go

When you wake to summer sunshine streaming through the slats of your window, the first thing you see is the mop of hair that is decidedly not yours sharing the pillow beneath your head.

“Oh my god.”

The sleeping boy doesn’t awaken, which gives you a moment to process the embarrassment of having spoken to no one at all, as well as relive the memories that brought you to this moment right here.

A party you weren’t supposed to be at but that Woooyoung invited you to anyway. Drinks, music – conversation over a thumping bass with people you had just met, some games where you learned too much and laughed too loud. Someone’s hand on your knee as you spun a bottle, giggling like a teenager, then sharp eyes smiling into yours and that same hand drifting up to touch your cheek as you leaned in, mind abuzz and lips tingling as people cheered in the background –

The boy in your bed right now, soft breaths still fluttering gentle against your skin.

“Isn’t it a little weird to be touching a stranger’s hair while they’re sleeping?”

The words that burst from your lips are a lot stronger than oh my god this time.

When he laughs, raspy with sleep but bright as the sun, the urge only grows stronger.

“Fair enough.” He shifts, then, letting the blankets slip from his bare shoulders. “So what happens now?”

You smile back.

And as he stares up at you with sunlight dancing in his eyes, you dare to believe he finds your grin as beautiful as you find his.

“I’m kind of hungry,” you say. “Breakfast?”

Starry eyes under moonlight

Then you lean in and can I

Take this moment to say this feels so right?

Breakfast does happen. Not in your apartment because you haven’t gone grocery shopping yet and Yeonjun – that’s his name, the name of the boy made of stars and summer sunshine – agrees that he’d probably like something more substantial than cereal, but at the little café down the street. Coffee and pastries, maybe more expensive than you’d have liked, but worth it for the little sparkle that lights in Yeonjun’s eyes when he bites into his chocolate croissant, and worth more for the words that fill the air between you two as the morning passes on.

Lunch happens too, then, after you walk with Yeonjun to his place where you sit on the couch and play with his pretty white cat, Mochi, as he changes in the next room. He pays this time for the street stall food, greasy and delicious and worth every cheap penny, and then there’s a park nearby that Yeonjun mentions and your heart jumps a little to see the hope in his eyes as he looks at you. As though he feels the same way, doesn’t want this – whatever this is – to end.

The sky is blue and the grass is green and Yeonjun shines bright against the sun with every word that falls from his lips, every crinkle-eyed laugh that echoes in the open air. And when you look at the time that’s passed, hours whiled away since the moment you touched his hair under the morning sunlight, and tell him that you really need to go grocery shopping or your roommate who’s coming back tomorrow might actually kill you, he insists on coming, and then insists on helping you carry the bags back to your home.

“You really didn’t need to come with me to do something as boring as grocery shopping,” you say, dropping your bags on the kitchen floor.

“But I wanted to.” He giggles in this silly little way that makes your heart flutter ridiculously, and that kills any residual argument that might have found its way to your lips.

Putting away groceries turns into making dinner and that turns into the two of you sitting at your kitchen table, sharing from the several dishes laid across the top. Yeonjun’s cheeks bulge like a chipmunk, or a hamster, or just one of those little animals that store food in their cheeks, and when you admit that this is the reason why you’re giggling, he just shrugs, his lips pouting around the mouthful. “The food’s really good.”

You may be able to cook, but your simple dishes are absolutely not worth the way he’s shoveling food between his lips. You let him know as much.

Your only response is to wipe the sauce away, failing to hide the smile threatening to split across your face.

Yeonjun insists on helping you with the dishes and then spends more time distracting you than actually washing. You splash water at him in retaliation and then your cackles fill the apartment as he screeches, swiping soapy droplets from his face. He sits himself on the counter and cracks jokes until your sides ache with laughter and you can barely hold yourself up to place the last dish away to dry, and when you meet eyes with him again, you can’t help it when your gaze falls to his lips once more.

“Today was nice,” he says first, voice softer than it’s been the entire day. Moonlight glitters on his face and still he shines as though the sun were still in the sky.

“It was,” you breathe, and that’s all the cue either of you needs to close the gap between your lips.

“Text me when you get home,” you say when you pull away for air, hands still gripping those of the boy made of sunshine.

“I will,” he promises. “I’ll see you again.”

It’s so easy to laugh with him, fingers intertwined as though neither of you will ever let go. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Eyes on you, eyes on me

Can’t let go, ‘cause it’s all I need

Yeonjun, sweat plastering dyed hair to his forehead, limbs like water as he spins in front of the walls of glass and mirrors. The look in his eyes freezes you in place – electrifying, you think dazedly, like the dazzling flashes of lightning that strike during the beachfront storms – and you stay there, rooted in place even after the music has long stopped playing and Yeonjun has turned to you, those very same eyes crinkling into the summer sunshine smile you’ve grown to miss over just these past few days.

“When were you going to tell me you could dance like that?”

Yeonjun’s mouth closes. Opens. Closes again. His ears are red too, now, and if you weren’t still in shock over the last few moments of your life you might’ve been laughing with the affection welling in your chest.

The sun is still bright at five seventeen pm on this warm summer afternoon, and its rays seem to frame Yeonjun’s pink face like a painting, a living painting of a boy born from sunshine. But no painting could capture the moment when he looks at you, eyes shy and sparkling, and says, “Yeah, but it sounds a little different, coming from you.”

Eyes on you, eyes on me

You find an empty bench in the park, sit there and talk about everything and nothing all at once as the sun plays between the trees. Dappled light falls on Yeonjun’s face and as his hands wave in the air, animating the unfortunate story he wants to tell you about his roommate and some murderous pigeon (he’s my best friend, he says, you’ll love him when you meet him, and it doesn’t escape you that he says when and not if, like he sees you in his future with no room for uncertainty), you can only laugh and nod and stare, unable to pull your eyes from his warmth, a sunflower dutifully following the light of his smile.

When the sky starts to turn pink and purple, the remnants of day fading into night, you finally stand from your perches on the bench. Yeonjun’s takes your hand on the way to the convenience store under his apartment and holds it as he pays for the packets of ramen you tote back to his place. Mochi the cat greets you two at the door and you let go to give him the attention he desires and deserves, but the lingering warmth of Yeonjun’s fingers stays pressed to your palm long after.

There’s no party tonight, but there is convenience store ramen and half a bottle of wine Yeonjun finds in the back of some cabinet. There are no wine glasses – I broke one and my roommate broke the other literally a week later at the exact same time, you’d have thought it was planned – so you use mugs instead.

You laugh at the setup when it’s finished, cheap wine and cheap ramen laid out like a feast. So does Yeonjun, warm giggle brushing against your neck as he sidles up and takes your hand in his again naturally, so naturally, like they belong together.

This time, he doesn’t let go.

Can’t let go, ‘cause it’s all I need

(When you wake up in the morning, legs tangled together beneath rumpled sheets, you’re still holding hands.)

So pull me closer, closer

While we still have time

The last wall between you crashes down with the passing of that day, a wall of casual touch and affection that you didn’t realize you could have built so strongly in such a short time – but Yeonjun is different, different in the way you seem have to known each other, known each other’s bodies and minds even before you met. He knows how to kiss you slow and deep, knows how to hold you close to his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat against your skin. He knows when to tangle your hands together and when to squeeze to let you know I’m here, I’m still here, I’m not going away anytime soon.

Days with him feel like years and seconds all at once. Time passes in scenes, in moments – you’re at the beach in one, splashing each other in the waves, and the next he’s loafing on your apartment couch as type away at the kitchen table nearby. He’s dancing down the street, movements exaggerated for your laughter, and then he has you pressed gently to the wall, lips swallowing the last giggles on the tip of your tongue. One summer night after another, endless – Yeonjun is forever, you come to believe, eternity in the graze of his hands against yours, in the moonlit sparkle of his eyes under the night sky.

And let me hold you, hold you

On these endless summer nights

When he holds you, it feels as though you swim among the stars.

So pull me closer, closer

One hot evening in the middle of July, Yeonjun calls you as you’re leaving the lab to the setting sun outside. “I’m dyeing my hair again.”

“… Now?”

“It’s gonna be blue,” he continues as though you never said anything. “You wanna help?”

Your feet immediately go to turn in their tracks, heading for the bus stop in the opposite direction. You pause though, wary of the sudden movement – because you like Yeonjun, like him so much, but there’s still that little residual fear that you like him a little too much and that won’t be good for you or him in the long run.

You talked about this with Wooyoung and San, though – told them how you felt about Yeonjun, how you’ve never felt this way for anyone else before, but that you were worried things were moving a little too quickly to be safe. For all their usual joking around they’d listened carefully as you spoke, and when you were finished, they had advice to give.

“Is moving too fast the only thing you’re worried about? Or has he… done anything, I guess, to make you feel uncomfortable about being in a relationship with him?” San had asked.

“Well, you say you’ve never felt this way about anyone else.” Wooyoung had shrugged. “If you click so well with him, I don’t think it’s fair to use other relationships as a golden standard to hold him by.”

Which was – fair. And true. Their words settled your misgivings and you’d told them as much, gratitude in your smile. Of course, Wooyoung had immediately claimed best man rights when you and Yeonjun inevitably get married or whatever because “I’m the one who invited you to that party so I was basically your matchmaker,” so maybe San’s the only one who deserved your gratitude.

So when Yeonjun calls that day, after that initial pause, you let your feet guide the way to the other bus stop and scoff into the phone. “It’s funny how you still think you need to ask.”

While we still have time

Soobin opens the door when you arrive and immediately points to the bathroom. “Tell him not to make a colossal mess, please.”

You laugh and so does he, because if there’s one thing you both know about Yeonjun, it’s that he does what he wants how he wants, and like the hurricanes that sweep the beach, only rarely can anyone divert the path of destruction that follows. But that’s him, Yeonjun, his power and passion lighting the world, destroying it as it stands only to build it up anew.

“Soobin says not to make a mess,” you tell him anyway as the two of you cover every open surface in preparation for whatever chaos will follow. “He said please.”

“No promises,” is all Yeonjun says, the sexy summer sunshine grin splitting his face even as the sky grows dark outside.

“Why’d you ask me to come?” you ask when the dye job is done. His hair is bright blue now, just like he said, and he looks as handsome as ever. You really want to kiss him.

Yeonjun blinks. “Were you bored?”

He shrugs, then, cheeks puffing out with his smile. “You didn’t need to help,” he says, going back to wiping down the counter. “I just wanted you here.”

And let me hold you, hold you

You cook for him and Soobin later that night when your heart has stopped skipping beats and your brain has calmed down because Soobin is abysmal in the kitchen and Yeonjun is tired after dealing with his hair. It’s made a little difficult, however, by the way Yeonjun can’t seem to keep his hands off of you for even a second.

“Are you ever going to let go of me?” you ask at some point, amusement rippling across your words as you attempt to maneuver yourself around the tiny kitchen, one Choi Yeonjun hugging your waist from the back with his nose nuzzled into your neck.

Yeonjun looks up slightly, meeting eyes with you in the faint reflection of a metal pot. His newly dyed hair almost seems to glow in the light overhead sparking off the metal, an ocean under the sun. It seems he embodies the brightness of the universe no matter what, the sun, the moon, the sky, the stars, and in that moment as his smile widens, you know – you know –

You love him.

And maybe if you hadn’t had that talk with your friends, you’d be freaking out right now about love coming too fast and being unsure whether or not this was love or infatuation or something else that would burn too bright and too quickly, leaving you scorched in its wake, but today you only find yourself sinking further into Yeonjun’s hold, smiling back at him in the reflection.

If this is love, it’s more beautiful than anything you thought it could be.

On these endless summer nights

When Yeonjun still doesn’t answer, you nudge him with your shoulder. “Are you?”

His head ducks down, burying his nose into your neck again. “No,” he says, and you can feel the sunshine smile on his face warm against your skin. “Never.”

My god, you think as he sways you side to side, his arms never once falling from their place around your waist. I love you so much.

(Endless summer nights)

(When Yeonjun drops you off at your apartment the next morning, San the token disgusted roommate says he’s never seen a grosser couple than the two of you. Soobin, despite having sworn that he is the epitome of a sweet summer child, agrees wholeheartedly.)

Skies have never been clearer

Grass has never been greener

And the feeling gets stronger, each and every time

Yeonjun wishes – really fucking wishes – he remembered how you two met. The exact way, not just the generic we saw each other at a party and kissed and one thing led to another and we ended up in the same bed. He wants to remember the moment you met his eyes or he met yours, what he said to you that ended with his hand on your knee as you spun an empty glass bottle in the center of a rowdy circle, what led to the smile on your face as you leaned in to kiss him, the yells of the crowd blurring to background noise in his ears against the soft pressure of your lips.

I think I touched a lot more last night, you’d finally replied, raising one eyebrow.

To Yeonjun it felt a little like a challenge. The eyebrow raise was what did it, finished off the perfect retort to whatever his dumb mouth had decided to say. He remembers half of him wanted to egg you on, say something else to prolong this verbal ping pong match, but there was the tiredness still pulling down his eyes and the tipsily hungover headache behind the bridge of his nose and the knowledge that even though he might want to learn you, to know you more than just the blissful last night, he might be overstaying his welcome. One night stands are one thing. Staying after is another.

But he saw the smile blooming wide across your face as you slipped from the blankets, the way sunshine turned brighter against your eyes and cheeks.

And in that moment, nothing in the world could have made him look away.

Locked in you and I can’t find

These emotions so can I

Take this moment to say this feels so right

There’s – something about you, Yeonjun thinks, something indescribable, a je ne sais quoi if he’s feeling fancy – a quality to you that seems to breathe life into everything you see, everything you hear, everything you touch. The sky looks bluer, the grass greener when you walk by his side in the park, your laugh spilling music into the air as he tells you about the unfortunate tale of Soobin and the murderous pigeon.

He is an impulsive person. Comparatively, at least, to most of the people he knows. But even Yeonjun can’t believe how easy it is to talk to you, to laugh with you, how much he wants to stay by your side despite only having known you for a matter of days – it’s moving fast, even for him.

He tells Soobin this on a day you aren’t over. His roommate, his best friend just looks at him and asks him one question. “Do you think it’s a bad thing?”

He pauses. Thinks. Mochi the cat purrs in his arms, and idly Yeonjun recalls how much his usually reserved cat loves you too.

“I don’t think it’s bad,” he finally says, long and slow. “I’ve just never felt this way about someone before.”

Books speak of soulmates, of red threads connecting one part of a soul to another, of birthmarks left by a past love’s kiss, predestined fate pulling lovers together slowly, surely. Yeonjun knows it well, has seen it mirrored in so many dances and stories, has felt the love expressed by all sides of the equation in the presence of a truly happy couple or throuple or anything beyond or in between. He knows it. Has felt it.

But only now does he believe it.

You are the sun, perhaps, and Yeonjun a planet pulled into your orbit by a brilliant smile accompanied by an outstretched hand so warm with gentle light that he couldn’t possibly refuse. There’s no way he could tug himself away.

Nor does he think he’ll ever want to.

“It’s cheesy to say,” he says, every word weighing heavily on his lips. “But if soulmates exist, something tells me Y/N would be mine.”

There’s a mildly disgusted look on Soobin’s face that mixes strangely with the oddly genuine expression in his eyes. But despite the embarrassment beginning to tint Yeonjun’s cheeks pink and his ears red –

Something in him rings certain that his words are true.

Eyes on you, eyes on me

Can’t let go, ‘cause it’s all I need

You’d mentioned it offhand on the way to your apartment, groceries laden on your arms and his. A little presentation on the work you’ve done so far this summer, barely twenty minutes in the entire conference but still something to acknowledge what you’ve managed to complete. “It’s an opportunity, anyway,” you’d said, but even then Yeonjun could tell by the little tremble in your words just how much those ten minutes meant to you.

“Can I come?”

Sweat still trickles down the side of Yeonjun’s face by the time he finds the university building and then the appropriate room. He gets a strange look from a security guard and several well-dressed adults who must be conference attendees, but he ignores them as he slides into a seat in the back. You stand at the podium, looking oddly relaxed for how jittery you were yesterday when he saw you, and he remembers the reassurance he’d tried to give before he dropped you off at home.

This is your work. You know it better than anyone ever will. You’ve done everything you can to get this far, and this is your moment to shine. Take it and run with it.

People say that science and the arts couldn’t be more different, one logical and rational and the other fueled by the imagination. But as Yeonjun watches you speak at the front of the room, not a waver in your voice as you look steadily out at the crowd, all he can think is that this is, at its barest bones, a performance. A culmination of your work presented to a crowd of those who understand, just like Yeonjun’s recitals on stages in front of thousands.

Yeonjun doesn’t understand your talk. Well – there are parts he gets, things that ring a few bells from high school and college gen-ed courses that he’d long forgotten until now. But even though you explain things well, this is a performance prepared for experts in your field, not laypeople like him, just like how his auditions are tailored to things that the judges will understand but not the general public. By all counts, you should’ve been right – coming here should have bored him to pieces.

But your eyes glow with a low, steady flame Yeonjun hasn’t seen before, embers rising from ashes as your voice brims with fire, passion in every perfectly-enunciated word, and he is – electrified, probably, that’s the only word that could even hope to encompass how he feels in this chair, listening to you speak.

You step off the stage to another round of applause, and the only thought echoing through Yeonjun’s brain is I love you.

Eyes on you, eyes on me

Then you see him, and the way your face lights up could rival all the stars in the galaxy.

Yeonjun smiles, shaking his head slightly – don’t let me interrupt, keep talking to who you need to – and it looks like you understand because you go back to your conversation, but as soon as the last person slips into the crowd you turn to him, walking over with sure, giddy steps.

“You came!” you say, a breathless smile swept wide across your lips. “Did you see me?”

“Of course,” Yeonjun manages to answer around all the emotion still pressing tight against his heart. And as you wrap your arms around him and he pulls you as close as he can into his chest, all he can think is –

Can’t let go, ‘cause it’s all I need

Even in a room of thousands, I would still only to see you.

So pull me closer, closer

While we still have time

Yeonjun doesn’t usually wake up before you, a result of combining his preference for sleeping in as well as the fact that his schedule generally starts later than yours. Sometimes, though, like on this early August morning, his eyes blink open before dawn. And while that’s usually a curse because Yeonjun very much values his sleep, if he happens to be in the same bed as you when the dawn wakes him, he’ll take it as luck, good luck in this case.

You shift a little in his arms and Yeonjun can tell you’re about to wake up by the way your eyes flutter once, twice, before you curl into him a little more. “Isn’t it a little weird to be watching a stranger while they sleep?” you mutter, eyes still closed.

Yeonjun pouts exaggeratedly as you blink yourself awake, but he knowingly destroys the effect by bringing you closer. “After all this time, how could you say we’re still strangers?”

And let me hold you, hold you

On these endless summer nights

A sleepy little laugh that’s more of a sigh falls from your lips that Yeonjun would kiss if you weren’t so particular about morning mouth. “No,” you admit, snuggling into his chest. “I think we’re a lot more than that, now.”

Yeonjun kisses the top of your head. “I’m glad you think so too.”

So pull me closer, closer

You take a beach trip one weekend when the sun shines hot and bright and not a cloud dots the blue, blue sky. Wooyoung screams and San looks on in disgust and Soobin yells as you rub sunscreen into Yeonjun’s back, but Yeonjun can only laugh as you stick your tongue out at everyone who dares mock the two of you and threaten to throw several handfuls of sand at them.

“And put on sunscreen!” you yell, waving the bottle menacingly through the air. “Unless you want to get burned to high hell, by the sun and by me!”

God, he loves you so much.

While we still have time

The sun’s too hot so Yeonjun sprints into the water the minute you’re done with his back, screeching as the sand burns his feet. You follow behind, apparently, and Yeonjun only realizes that you’re here too when you plunge into the ocean with a splash that sends water flying all over him.

Spewing saltwater, Yeonjun turns around to face your doubled-over figure shaking with laughter. Which is a good thing, because you don’t notice him coming towards you until it’s too late and both of you have toppled into the water.

There might be tears in Yeonjun’s eyes when he comes back up – between the saltwater and the sun, he’s not sure. What he is sure of, though, is that you’ve never looked more beautiful than now, surrounded by the sparkling blue ocean and the shining hot sun, cackling in his arms.

And let me hold you, hold you

You build a bonfire, because Beomgyu likes arson and Soobin is generally willing indulge his boyfriend’s criminal tendencies in a controlled, contained sort of way, and also because it’s the typical thing to do at the beach even if you aren’t ratty teenagers anymore. As the sun sets on the ocean, you lean your head on Yeonjun’s shoulder with a little sigh. Firelight glows off your face.

Yeonjun turns around to meet your eyes with his. Then, in full view of all the single people around and in full disregard of their groans, he decides to meet your lips too.

On these endless summer nights

(“Mm, salty,” he says, pulling away.

You slap his shoulder. “You’re disgusting. Why would you say that?”)

(Endless summer nights)

(Yeonjun grins. “And yet you’re still here, letting me be disgusting to you.”)

(Endless summer nights)

(“Yeah.” You lean against him again, rolling your eyes as the fading sunlight flickers across your smile. “I guess I am.”)

Don’t think I’ll feel this way

Again when the night is done

Summer always ends. Yeonjun knows this. Time always flows no matter how static it seems, but as August winds to a close, he still can’t help but feel a little shocked. Where did the time go from the start of June and the party where he met you, all the way until now at the end of August as you sit on a bench by the beach, holding hands as the sun begins its descent beneath the waves? It’s as though the last three months were no longer than a second spent in your arms.

His head rests on your shoulder, your hand raised and combing through his hair. A comfortable silence has filled the air and Yeonjun can feel sleepiness settling over him in waves the longer he sits there, basking against your side.

“Summer’s almost over,” you say, almost to yourself. If Yeonjun wasn’t so close, he might not even have heard you.

“Mm.” He opens his eyes, turns just enough to look up at you. “Back to school.”

“Ugh.” You both laugh, but this time Yeonjun feels a little uncertainty ripple through the air where only comfortable silence had reigned prior. Clear as day, he sees the question hanging invisible in front of you as the sun sinks further behind the ocean.

What does that mean for us?

“I think this summer was the best one of my life,” Yeonjun admits quietly. Your eyes shift downward to meet his, still sparkling even in the fading light. “And I can’t deny it was because of you.”

Slowly, the hand on his head comes down. You take his fingers between yours, lacing them gently together. “I agree.”

Yeonjun sits up, never once breaking contact with your hands or your eyes. You look back steadily, softly, like you love him as much as he loves you. Something he’s almost certain might be true.

Only that hope keeps him from bailing right then and there, cracking a joke and leaving this charged atmosphere behind.

The summer never ends with you, oh it’s just begun

When Yeonjun says this to you, his eyes earnest against the setting sun, you have to remind yourself that this is real. That the summer wasn’t a dream, that Yeonjun wasn’t a dream, that everything he just said to you was – it was real. It was from him. It was true.

It wasn’t just wishful thinking that he felt the same way as you.

With this realization bursting warm in your heart, you curl your fingers into his. Look up into starry eyes.

And smile.

“What do you mean, end?” you say, and the grin blooming across Yeonjun’s face rivals all the beauty of the sun and the stars and the moon combined. “We’re just getting started.”

So pull me closer, closer

While we still have time

You go back to your place after and since San’s out for the night, Yeonjun takes the opportunity to cuddle you full and well on the couch as a white noise movie plays in the background. You can’t stay long – both of you have things to do early tomorrow – but where he might once have felt a sense of urgency with the knowledge of the ending summer looming in the near distance, Yeonjun finds it a little easier to relax this time.

You have all the time in the world, now.

When the movie is over, you poke his side. “Up.”

He whines. “Don’t wanna.”

You poke more insistently. “Up.”

In the end Yeonjun stands, but only after he essentially forces you to pull him up off the couch and then off the floor. You’re smiling, though, a laugh barely repressed in your throat, and Yeonjun can see it very well as he kisses you once more.

He pulls back to look into eyes that hold a galaxy of stars, and in that moment, the words build up and spill out before he can even think to take them back.

“I love you.”

For a moment, you just blink. Yeonjun feels himself starting to panic – it wasn’t planned, it wasn’t discussed, maybe he said it too soon because even though you did agree that you wanted this, maybe you weren’t ready for that sort of declaration just yet –

“What a coincidence.” You raise a hand to his cheek as a slow smile spreads across your face. “I love you too.”

And let me hold you, hold you

On these endless summer nights (on these endless summer nights)

(You walk him out of the apartment after that, but you linger on the street. Yeonjun doesn’t leave either, just stands there with your hands in his even as the moon begins to rise higher in the sky.

“Text me when you get home,” you finally say, an echo of that second night.

Yeonjun pauses. Squints. “What do you mean?” he asks, looking at you with those soft, moonlit eyes. “I’m with you.”

His fingers squeeze yours, summer memories glittering in his smile.

“That means I’m already home.”)

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for my txt obsession they’re going to kill me fr)

282 notes · View notes

scaramouche-bully · 3 years

Text

— ☆ Overstimulation headcanons

Includes: Xiao, Childe, and Scaramouche.

[ Top ] Gender-neutral reader

Contains: Overstimulation, dacryphilia, coming untouched, multiple orgasms, humiliation, fucking machine, masochisms + sadism.

— ☆ Overstimulation headcanons - Ningguang and Zhongli 🐑 [ GN ]

— ☆ Overstimulation headcanons - Kaeya and Venti 🐑 [ GN ]

— ☆ Wrecking headcanons - Childe 🐏 [ Female ]

[ masterlist ]

You can probably guess my tastes and who I like to bully most (✿◡‿◡) I am open to writing these again but with a bottom reader.

— ☆ Xiao

He will do anything to please you. He wants to be your good boy, even when he’s wailing and begging you to stop because it’s too much, so if you want to keep going then use him to your hearts content.

His chest is so sensitive that he can cum just from having his nipples played with. He’s incredibly embarrassed about it and it’s made even worse when you want to see how many times you can get him to cum just from touching them.

Pulling and twisting his pink nipples even when he’s crying for you tostop. He says it hurts and yet his twitching cock leaks pre-cum non-stop. His hands are gripped onto your wrists but he never pushes you away.

Xiao throws his head back, his body seizes, and then he’s cumming. His hips are bucking as he lets out an embarrassingly loud moan as you softly coo as you hold him gently. Playfully continuing to rub small circles around his nipple as he shakes and cries into your neck.

“Good boy, that was orgasm three wasn’t it?” you gently ask as Xiao shudders away from your touch and yet remains in your lap. He’s still riding his high so his body is so sensitive but he manages to nod. He never forgets to count. It’s cute that he tries so hard but if Xiao can still think coherently then the night isn’t over. Xiao eyes widen as he yelps when your hands return to his nipples and you twist them hard.

“Ahh...! Mm..I..I just c-came! Wait--ah!” Xiao sobs out as he pleads with you that he can’t. He’s spasming as his body conflicts with his mind of being good and shying away from the overwhelming pleasure. But you don’t stop, not until you see his cute cock twitch, his eyes rolls back, and his tongue loll out as he cums a fourth time that night. He’s shaking as he desperately clings onto you for comfort as he tries to stay coherent. He’s so cute you can’t help but baby him a little.

“There there. You did so well Xiao. What number are we at now?” you ask but Xiao can only whimper nonsensically as he sobs, “Oh? You can’t answer me properly? Then I guess we have to start back at zero then.”

— ☆ Childe

A brat that can take pain. He’s a open masochist so go wild, he’ll probably thank you in the end. Whenever he challenges you to a fight and you kick him down, he’s already cumming in his pants like a teenager.

He loves being held down as you jerk him off, even when he’s crying after his third orgasm and his cum is so thin he might as well be squirting, you just keep going.

His whole body is tensing all over as he chokes on air but he loves it. The soft praises you coo into his ear and the punishing actions melt his mind and he turns into a heated mess.

When you finally fuck him, he’s tongue is out as he pants like a dog. He doesn’t care if it hurts or not, he’s so desperate for release as he slams his hips down. One more time. Make him cum one more time.

His hole is fluttering, spasming around you with each and every thrust you pound into his body. His head is thrown back as his thighs quiver as he tries to lift and drop himself back just to have you ram into his prostate but you keep purposely missing. Just to drag out his suffering a tiny bit longer.

“Nn! Ahh! N-no! Not this..ngh...!” Childe is crying out as he stars back at you with teary eyes as he drools all over himself. It hurts, it hurts so much. He wants to cum but his cock is spent and you won’t give him that last push over the edge.

“But isn’t this what you wanted Childe? To be pushed to your limits and even further? Don’t tell me you’re giving up right now,” you grin down as you hoist his legs up higher and pull out until it’s just the tip kissing his hole. Holding him in place for a few seconds and then slamming into him, sheathing fully into him. You curse under your breath when Childe's walls tighten up that you can’t move at all as he spasms as he squirts out the last of his cum. Just when you think it’s time to take a break, you feel him rock softly back. If he should be praised on anything it should be his recovery time and he can see the amusement in your eyes. He grins cheekily despite the wrecked looked he’s sporting as he says, “One more. I want one more.”

— ☆ Scaramouche

Scaramouche is such a whiny bitch. On the outside, he loves to boss everyone around and act so pretentious because he believes everyone is useless. It’s annoying.

Strapping him to a fucking machine as you watch him get absolutely wrecked is your compensation. He’ll cuss you out in the beginning but leave him there for a few hours and he turns into a mess.

The machine is ruthless as it abuses his prostate and he has to sit there and take it. He’s drooling all over himself with heart eyes that you can’t help but take a picture for the road.

He’s crying and trying to grab onto your clothing when you tell him you’re leaving, you can’t just leave him like this. Oh, but you can and you will.

When you finally come back, Scaramouche has collapsed onto his stomach as the fucking machine ruthless continues to slams into him. His eyes have gone hazy as his lips part to make horse moans every time he’s fucked into. There’s a small pool of his cum sitting between his thighs that’s been smudged over his stomach and his little cock is still leaking pre-cum.

“Have you been enjoying yourself Scara?” you ask as you run your hand through his sweat matted hair. He whines as he attempts to nuzzle back into your warm palm but it only makes the machine abuse his prostate harder. He’s far too gone to reply to you as he pants harder, his eyes blown wide, as he cums for the nth time that night. It’s so thin that he might as well be squirting as he cries from the mind-breaking pleasure.

“P-Please,” he manages to spit out, “..no...n-no more..”

His face is a mess now, the tears he had tried to hold back are flowing freely out of his eyes and drool is leaking out of his mouth. His hole keeps clenching and unclenching and he feels like he’s losing his mind. You’ve kept him down here for hours as he’s sorry. You ponder the thought for a bit before you have mercy and turn the machine off. Scaramouche instantly collapses as he babbles out thank you’s as you give him a sweet kiss to his forehead. He did so well.

6K notes · View notes

queenxxxsupreme · 2 years

Note

If you are willing to write for Netflix!Eskel, may I ask for one shot where he, rest of Wolves and his crush are spending time at the keep and she is tipsy so he teases and flirt with her a lot. After she feels she has enough alcohol, he decides to walk her to her room and she maybe tries to be playful and kiss him. He lets her do as she pleases but in the end he doesn't take an opportunity of her drunk state and takes care of her. I beg you for this one. I need some dark and cocky Eskel. I hope my request is not too chaotic, English is not my mother language.

A/N: I apologize so much! I told everyone this would be out 2-3 days ago and that did not happen. This takes place before the events of s2, I’m convinced Yenn’s been to KM once at least (they might have mentioned if she was or wasn’t in the show but I didn’t pick up on that) There's a note at the very end about Netflix!Eskel's taglist so please read if you're interested :)

Warnings: 18+ as there are adult jokes and that sort of thing, Netflix!Eskel is a bit vulgar, intoxicated!reader, nothing outside of canon for the show or the game

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: You spend the night drinking with the wolves. The youngest one seems to have your attention, for better or worse.

***

You poured ale into two large jugs, watching as the dark liquid rose towards the brim on the first one.

One of the doors to the kitchen creaked open, but no footsteps followed. You glanced over your shoulder to see Eskel entering the kitchen silently, his eyes intently focused on you.

“You’re far too silent, witcher.” You turned your attention back to the ale.

“Perhaps you just don’t listen well enough, witch.”

You grinned, shaking your head a little.

“Perhaps we should put a bell around your neck like we do the goats.”

He snorted in reply. The dark haired witcher came to stand to your right, placing his tankard down on the counter rather roughly.

“Have you no patience?” You looked over at him, furrowing your brows. “I only just came back here to refill the jugs.”

“I have plenty of patience.” He reached across the space in front of you to pick up one of the jugs. “You are taking far too long.”

Eskel brought the vessel to his nose and sniffed the liquid inside before deciding it would be okay to pour into his drinking tankard.

“Are you always so paranoid about your ale?” You placed our hand on your hip.

A smirk tugged at the scarred corner of his lips. He lifted his tankard as if to drink from it but paused for a moment.

“Only when the pretty witches have their hands on it. Can never trust the pretty ones.”

You held his gaze for a few moments as he drank the ale, your heart racing and something in your stomach stirring.

Once you were able to gather yourself, you picked up both jugs and turned for the door.

“Don’t worry, witcher. The potion will only make you shit your pants until sunup.”

He almost choked on his ale, coughing as it got into his lungs.

***

The room erupted in laughter as Coen shared a story of a contract he had done with Lambert wherein Lambert ended up covered in wyvern feces.

You sat at the very end of the long table with Triss next to you. Across from you sat Eskel, who seemed to be staring at you. He had one fist propped beneath his chin, his other hand holding tightly to his tankard. Icy blue eyes appeared to be studying you like some old Elven painting.

You cleared your throat and folded your arms on the table as you turned your attention to the youngest witcher.

“Is there something I can help you with, witcher?”

He let out a light sigh, his hand beneath his chin falling to the table.

“I am just wondering how a hellbeast can hide inside such an incredibly beautiful being.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You are a terrible flirt.”

“Whoever said I was flirting?”

“You’re flirting alright. You’re awful at it.”

“Shut the hell up, Geralt!” Eskel roughly elbowed the White Wolf in the side.

You grinned, taking a sip of your drink.

***

You listened as Triss and Yennefer spoke about Aretuza. Or was it Ban Ard? You hadn’t been paying very good attention to the topic. You only gave your opinion when you heard something interesting.

You were probably on your third glass of wine, and you were definitely feeling its effects. Your skin was warm and tingly, and you felt an overall buzz.

Your eyes were set on the witchers across the room. They had moved tables to play a card game a while ago, leaving you three ladies to chat about whatever you wanted without worrying about their nagging. They always liked to nag and whine about something.

“Eskel was very…. interested in watching you earlier.” Yennefer’s violet gaze found you.

You perked up upon hearing his name, turning your head to look at your fellow sorceress.

“He did, didn’t he?”

“Looked as though he was contemplating leaping across the table and devouring you.” Triss giggled.

“If only.” You sighed, turning your attention back to the witchers.

Though Eskel was looking down at his cards, a smirk pulled at the left corner of his mouth. The scars that gnarled that side of his face made the smirk appear almost sinister. But even in your dazed, drunken state, you knew better. He always had that stupid smirk on his face when he was up to no good.

You stood to your feet and left the table.

Eskel pretended to ignore you as you sauntered around the table full of witchers.

“She’s hunting.” Lambert commented. “Circling her prey like a proper she-beast.”

“You expect anything less from a sorceress?” Coen chuckled.

They were teasing you, and you knew this. But you paid them no mind. You were all too focused on Eskel.

You took a seat on the bench between him and Lambert, your back remaining to the table they were playing on. You leaned on one elbow, your eyes focused on the dark haired witcher.

Now it was your turn to gaze and stare at him.

You admired his side profile, the way his dark hair was pulled back but a few pieces still managed to fall around his face. You sat to his right, so you couldn’t see the scars that covered the left half of his face, but you could see another scar all on its own beneath his right eye.

“Is there something I can help you with, witch?” Eskel didn’t take his eyes off of his cards.

“I’m only looking.”

“Hm.”

You smiled innocently as he turned his head to meet your gaze.

“You’ve got stunning eyes.”

“Your breath is sweet.” He wrinkled his nose. Once again, his attention found those stupid cards in his hands. “Too sweet.”

“I’ve been drinking that wine Triss brought. It tastes amazing.” You began to twirl a piece of your hair around your finger. “I think it said something like peaches and honeysuckle on the bottle.”

“Have you come over to just stare at me and play with your hair?”

“Perhaps I am bored and need someone to keep me company.”

Eskel snorted but offered no glance in your direction.

“Y/N, sweetheart? Why don’t you be a doll and go get us more ale?” Lambert pushed an empty jug in your direction.

With a flick of your hand in his direction, the jug exploded.

“Fetch your own ale, asshole.”

The witchers erupted into laughter.

“Feisty isn’t she, Eskel?” Coen chuckled.

“Feisty is one word for it.”

Your eyes found Eskel once more. He didn’t seem interested in your presence.

Bastard.

You stood to your feet and reached across the table to grab the jug you hadn’t destroyed. As you did so, you uttered an incantation under your breath that would turn their stupid cards into beetles.

As you walked away, shouts and curses came from the table.

“She’s going to poison the ale!” Lambert shouted.

“No, she won’t.” Vesemir waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “Someone find us another deck of cards.”

***

As Lambert and Coen went to search for cards, Eskel slipped into the kitchen.

You stood on the other side of the kitchen with a mug of what he could only assume to be alcohol of some sort in your hand. Your opposite arm was crossed under your bust. Your brow was furrowed, and you appeared to be thinking.

Your eyes flickered up to watch the wolf as he walked around the table. His blue eyes glided over the containers of liquor and alcohol before he decided to look up at you.

“What’s with the sour attitude?”

“I don’t appreciate being made to look like an idiot.” You kept your eyes on his as he closed the space between you until he stood toe to toe with you.

“Oh, you did that all by yourself, doll.” That stupid little smirk came to his lips. Your eyes flickered down to that smirk momentarily.

“Did you fill the jug?”

Any hope you had at whatever spark there may have been between you and the young witcher diminished. He was no different than any other man you’d come across.

You met his gaze, your shoulders falling in defeat.

“Yes.” You murmured. You pushed yourself away from the counter, set on leaving the kitchen when he stopped you. His large hand clasped your upper arm.

“Where are you going?” His tone changed, softening as he noticed a sudden shift in your mood.

“To bed.”

He furrowed his brow, confused.

“So soon?”

“I’m done for the night, Eskel.”

“I thought we were having fun.”

“I did too, until you ignored me out there. You seemed far too interested in that fucking card game.”

Eskel looked down at you for a few moments.

“If you wanted my attention, witch, all you had to do was ask.”

Your heart beat a bit faster.

“I thought I made it clear when I came and sat next to you.”

“You could’ve sat on my lap.”

That was the Eskel you’d been looking for earlier.

You rolled your eyes at him, trying your best to hide a smile that wanted so desperately to spread across your lips.

“I think I’d make a rather comfortable seat.”

“Shut up, witcher.” You picked up the jug of ale and began to head for the door.

You could feel him walking closely behind you, his breath hot against your ear.

“Or perhaps there is something else you’d like to be sat upon tonight?”

“You’re a pig.”

“Perhaps, but your heart just started beating a little faster, witch.” He pushed the door open for you but offered you a narrow passage.

You slipped pass him, taking the jug to the table that now contained witchers and mages.

“What did you put in it?” Coen asked as he took the jug from you.

“Chort piss.”

Lambert and Geralt barked out a laugh.

***

Midnight came and went. Yennefer went to bed first, then Triss, then Vesemir.

Coen, Geralt, and Lambert were playing some sort of drinking game while you and Eskel sat at the end of the long table. The two of you had actually been having a pleasant conversation- though you were positive that was because you both had been drinking. You were far more intoxicated than the witcher. You couldn’t hold liquor nearly as well as he could, though you didn’t spend your free time drinking like he did either.

You hummed as you lifted your glass to finish off the sweet wine you’d grown to love.

“What is it you’re drinking?” Eskel asked. He had one elbow propped on the table and that hand up by his mouth. His thumb pressed to his lips as he watched you with a little bit of an amused look. You had definitely loosened up after the last few drinks and he was enjoying it.

“Wine.” You answered proudly, tilting your glass as if to show him. “Triss brought it from Toussaint. It’s…. I can’t pronounce it right now but in the morning I will tell you.”

“Why in the morning?”

“Because the name isn’t making sense in my head.” You almost rolled your eyes at him but the action made you dizzy. You placed your hand down on the table as if to steady yourself and you closed your eyes for a few moments. “Did the room spin for you as well, witcher?”

“No, it did not.” Eskel chuckled.

“Fuck.”

“I take it they don’t teach you to manage your drinking at Aretuza.” He took a drink of the White Gull in his tankard. You opened your eyes to meet his gaze.

“We aren’t filthy like you. We’re taught how to serve kings.”

“Well, I think you did a fantastic job at that. Didn’t you kill your king?”

Even drunk, you knew better than to run your mouth about that situation.

“That, dear Eskel, is a conversation for sober minds.” You spoke quietly, brushing your thumb along the brim of your glass. “And it is late. I’ve drank plenty for the rest of the week. I should be going to bed.”

You stood up and stepped out of the bench. The bottom of your dress became snagged on the bench, causing you to stumble.

“Whoa there, Y/N!” Lambert chuckled, reaching a hand out as if to catch you but if you were to really fall, he would have been too far away to reach you.

“Drank too much, Y/N?” Geralt raised his brows.

“Of course she did! She can barely walk.” Coen gestured to you.

“Ah, fuck off.” You waved a hand dismissively.

Eskel finished off his drink and then moved around the table to walk with you towards the door that would lead to the stairs.

“Are you following me, witcher?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t, then you are going to end up at the bottom of the staircase with a broken neck.” He pushed the door that led out of the dining hall open for you.

“I can walk just fine by myself.” Almost as if on cue, you didn’t pick your foot up high enough and you stumbled.

“What was that about walking just fine?”

“You know what I think?” You looked over your shoulder at him as you started up the first step. Since you were looking over your shoulder, you were moving a lot slower up the stairs.

Eskel placed his hand on your back as if to guide you up the stairs and make sure that you weren’t going to accidentally step too far to the left and go off the edge of the stairs. Being that there were no railings, it was particularly unsafe for unsteady folk to travel up and down the stairs.

“No, witch. I do not know what you think.”

“I think you just wanted to get me alone.” You giggled. He grinned a little.

“If I wanted you alone, I have other ways of doing so.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do, witcher.” You hummed. “You just wanted to get me- get me all alone so you could get your hands all over me.”

Eskel couldn’t help but laugh aloud.

“Perhaps I’ll have to get you drunk more often, witch. You’re fun when you aren’t being such an ostentatious little thing.”

“Osten- Ostentatious.” You hiccuped. “You think I’m that…. that word?”

“I think you’re a lot of things.”

“Like what?” You stopped at the top of the stairs to face him.

He looked down at you, blue eyes searching your face for a few moments.

“Well…. I don’t know that telling you those things would be worth it tonight.” Eskel stepped around you and started down the hallway. With a simple sign, the torches on the walls lit up.

You shivered as you felt the sudden shift in chaos in the hall. Even intoxicated, you could feel the power of his magic.

“Why not?” You hurried to follow him.

“Because you won’t remember any of them come morning.”

“But I’ll remember them tonight-,” You tripped and found yourself falling towards the floor.

Strong hands caught your arm and your waist, preventing you from hitting the stone floor. Eskel kept his hands on you as he made sure you were steady on your feet. You, however, had other plans. You leaned into him with almost all of your weight, giggling like a little kid.

“I’ve never seen you so clumsy, witch!” Eskel grunted as he shifted his hold on you.

“You’re awfully strong. And you smell…. surprisingly well.”

“What did you expect me to smell like?” He settled with one arm around your waist.

“Hmmm. Perhaps similar to that of a beggar from Novigrad.”

“I should’ve let you wander up here by yourself.”

“No! No!” You laughed, your hand finding his hand that rested on your side. “It’s just a pleasant surprise that you smell better than that, wi-witcher.”

“Are there any other surprises that you’ve learned tonight?”

“You’re quite warm.” You squeezed his hand. “And…. And you feel quite comfortable.”

Eskel furrowed his brow. He wanted to ask what you meant by ‘comfortable,’ but he was almost afraid to.

“Yennefer always says that Geralt tells her out of all you witchers, you’re the warmest.”

“A side effect of the mutation, or so Vesemir says.”

“Hmm. A lovely side effect to- side effect to have here at the keep when it’s so cold.”

Eskel came to a stop outside of the door to your room. His hand left your side, making you frown.

“Perhaps you could keep me warm for the night.” You boldly suggested with a smile, moving to stand in front of him.

“Perhaps.” He gave you one of those sideways grins as he looked down at you. “But not tonight.”

“What? Why?” You demanded, no longer smiling innocently at him. Instead, you furrowed your brow and almost scowled.

“Because you aren’t in the right state to be making that decision.”

“I…. don’t know what that means, witcher.” You poked a finger into his chest. Your hand lingered there, palm flattening out against his chest.

“It means not tonight.” He allowed you to keep your hand on his chest, letting you admire the muscle beneath his tunic while he spoke to you.

“Well…. What if I want to tonight?”

Eskel sighed.

“Do you remember how you suggested I sit on your lap earlier?”

“That offer has passed, witch.”

The frown that came to your lips nearly hurt his heart.

“It’s late, Y/N. You need to sleep.”

Your eyes flickered up to find his. Your hand had trailed from his chest up to his shoulder, then around to the back of his neck. Your fingers absentmindedly played with his dark hair.

Your gaze seemed glued to his scars, almost like you were mapping them out.

Eskel knew that was what you were looking at. With strangers, he’d curse them out and perhaps even start brawling them. With those he knew, the looking or staring didn’t bother him. But with you, he felt both self-conscious and comfortable at the same time. How was that possible?

You reached your hand up to cup the left side of his face, fingertips gingerly brushing along his cheek. Then you leaned up on your tip-toes to kiss his scarred left cheek.

Eskel was frozen in place. He didn’t want to move, to do anything more or less as he was the sober- or more sober one -between the two of you.

You looked down at his lips as if you were contemplating your next move.

“It’s late, Y/N.” He murmured, reaching for the handle to the door to your room.

You turned your head to see where he was reaching, blinking a few times when everything became fuzzy.

“Will you keep me warm for the night, witcher?”

“Not tonight.” With his hand on the small of your back, he guided you into the room. “You’ve got plenty of blankets and a fire for that.”

“But that isn’t what I want.” You tried to fight against him, but it was no use. Not only was he stronger, but you had practically no balance and the placement of his hand on you was perfect. He could make you go wherever he wanted.

“Then tomorrow when you are sober, we can talk about what you want.” Eskel gave you one final shove towards your bed.

You let out a rather loud drunken giggle as you hit the bed, collapsing on to it.

“Good night, witch.” Eskel made his way out of the room, pulling the door shut behind himself.

You watched the door for a few moments, tucking your hands beneath your head.

“Good night, witcher.”

A/N: I am keeping Netflix!Eskel and the regular Eskel that I've always written for separate as far as tags go. So if you want to be added to Netflix!Eskel's taglist and you've already filled out my taglist form here, just leave a comment or send me an ask! If you'd like to be on any of my other taglists as well as the Netflix!Eskel one, go to this link to fill out that little form as it helps me stay organized :)

#netflix!eskel #netflix!eskel x reader #netflix!eskel fic #eskel x reader #eskel x reader fic #eskel fic #the witcher #the witcher eskel #the witcher netflix #twn s2 #twn eskel #twn 2 #kacey answers

449 notes · View notes