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cr4yolaas · 2 months

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the weight of words — alhaitham x mute! reader

notes: based off of this tiktok i found a long while ago featuring a poem that serves as the base for this fic <3 i feel like this is very poorly written / rushed and it lacks a good flow but i wanted to get it out asap bc i didn’t have any more energy to write it LOL

tags: italics represent handwritten notes, reader is implied to be rlly smart / top of the class, implied depressive episode (reader), self deprecation (reader), fluff → angst → fluff, may or may not be an inaccurate rep. of mute individuals, ooc alhaitham, not proofread

this was a little more irksome than he wanted to admit.

at the very top of the akademiya, far away from prying eyes, sat a student bathed in sunlight. from a distance, he observed. you held a book in one hand and an apple in the other, while your legs dangled off of the ledge. he couldn’t discern much from your backside.

but what bothered him the most was that you were seated in “his” spot. the spot he always crept away to during lunch, mainly for its isolation and breathtaking view.

without hesitation, alhaitham approached you. he tapped on your shoulder and stared with an intensity akin to the blazing sun in june. “excuse me,” he began. “i normally sit here. i would greatly appreciate it if you moved to another place, as i’m most accustomed to this spot.”

a silence washed over as you stared up at him. your lack of response left him annoyed — did you find this funny?

however, as you set down your book and snack gently, alhaitham found himself surprised for the first time in a while.

a notebook sat on your lap as you wrote rapidly. the man watched quietly.

i’m afraid not. there are countless other spots up here, and i just happened to get to this one first.

a sigh slipped from his lips. while he wasn’t unfamiliar with stubborn personalities around campus, this particular interaction seemed to interest him more than it irritated him. alhaitham nodded and sat beside you, much to your surprise.

he listened as you flipped your page and began writing again, this time taking up less space on the paper.

why do you like sitting here? you passed the notebook to him.

he wrote much slower in comparison to you, however, his handwriting bore an elegance you had not seen before, as if each letter carried a song in the ink. you found it beautiful.

the lack of noise.

his short response made you smile — simple and straight to the point. another thing you deemed wonderful.

he did not hand the notebook back to you, but instead, continued to write. i dislike unnecessary sounds. they serve as useless interruptions. up here, i find that in comparison to the chatter of students, the ambience is soothing. alhaitham placed the notebook in your lap gingerly and looked into the distance, his gaze absent yet his thoughts reverberating.

you continued this back and forth with him for the entirety of the lunch break. the lines engraved on your palms spilled over with ink smears, and you found your dominant arm growing weary. you did not write your goodbyes on the paper, therefore leaving your conversation unfinished. you left with a smidge of warmth in your heart and a smile on your face in hopes of meeting him again the next day.

from afar, you could see the way he sat leaning slightly more towards one side, and the occasional tapping of his fingers against the table as he wrote. he drank from a small mug of what you presumed to be coffee, but rather than holding the handle, he gripped the cup from its mouth. another intricacy that piqued your interest.

he noticed your stare after a few seconds, eyes of jade and clementine meeting yours. without a word, he relocated to your table, sitting directly across from you. “hello,” he greeted softly. “i didn’t know you frequented this place either.” his gaze flickered over to your notebook peeking out of your schoolbag, and when you pulled it out to respond to him, he found himself getting uncharacteristically excited.

i don’t, actually. i wanted a change of pace, but i’m not sure how much i’m enjoying it. you pushed the book across the table to him.

is it too loud to study? that’s surprising.

you looked up at him questioningly for a moment before jotting down your reply. i’m not studying. i’m just here to read. his lips upturned noticeably at your words, an expression you wished to carve into the crevices of your memory for eternity. he was painstakingly beautiful.

alhaitham didn’t respond for a handful of seconds, instead opting to look outside the window to his left. strands of sunlight draped themselves onto his perfectly crafted face and fell between each strand of hair. a view that compared to the one at the top of the akademiya.

a conversation of short responses — ranging from questions about your darshan, to your favorite season, to the books you enjoyed reading — ensued, the evidence splayed onto the paper. you appreciated his company, for it was rare that anyone sought to talk with you.

he asked another question, his curiosity seeping out endlessly. why do you communicate like this?

a thin-lipped smile etched itself onto your lips. the ink of your pen ghosted atop the paper, your hesitation evident. i was born mute. i have no voice, therefore i cannot communicate in a normal manner.

you grew increasingly anxious as he looked at you with an expression that was terrifyingly unreadable. your hands rested atop the notebook, keeping it away from him for reasons you didn’t understand quite yet.

“that’s okay,” he spoke, the baritone of his voice cutting through your shared silence. “i don’t mind it. actually, i think i prefer it. over the grating voices of the other scholars i know, at least.” he went on about his senior, a friend in kshahrewar who apparently could never keep his mouth shut in his presence. you merely listened, soaking in his words and absorbing each syllable that spilled out of the cracks between his teeth. your confession rendered you utterly silent, but seemingly, he paid no mind.

again, your conversation ended without a proper goodbye. your notebook sat still on the table. moments after his departure, you stayed in your seat, contemplating the complications of this newfound acquaintance.

alhaitham’s life revolved around routine and quiet. he needed both to go about his day in an efficient and satisfying manner; otherwise, he would end up feeling rather unfulfilled and bothered.

perhaps that is why he found himself so drawn to you. in comparison to many of his classmates, who were incessantly obnoxious and needlessly talkative, you were quiet, not just vocally, but in every other aspect. your handwriting was consistent and each letter looked just as neat as the other. your responses were similar to his in that they were direct and honest. and, oddly, you radiated a warmth that he could not see in anyone else.

his next encounter with you wouldn’t be for a handful of days. he knew you were a student, thus resulting in his confusion — he had never seen you around campus until that day.

he ran into you during one of his lectures. you sat right beside him in a seat that wasn’t usually occupied. he began to question you with pen and paper, as usual.

since when were you enrolled in this class?

i always have been. this isn’t a necessary class for my darshan, it’s just an extra period for me to increase my credits. i don’t come to class very often.

he quirked a brow up. you fiddled with your pen.

interesting how i haven’t heard of you until now. alhaitham smiled softly at your muffled giggle, one that he had not heard until then. the noise swarmed his chest with a lightness he could not replicate.

you might have fallen too soon.

alhaitham was a simple man, yet alluring all the same. you had snuck away his perfections and imperfections in a different notebook. for instance:

3 - straightforward and direct

21 - prefers tea over coffee

44 - can’t sleep without a weighted blanket

your ever-growing infatuation for him began to blossom in the cavities of your stomach, and soon, it would infect everything above. you could not bear it — nights spent in solitude, where he would discuss his interests (which were minimal) until you fell asleep; afternoons spent in comfort, where you would share a slice of cake to celebrating a particularly difficult exam. he consumed your very being, the neurons that invoked muscular response and the veins that carried your blood here and there; all of it was him. and yet, you could not meaningfully share this with him, your silence embedding your heart in a crevice far away.

it seemed that he got to it first, anyways.

alhaitham asked you a simple question — if you were capable of speaking for a day, what would you say? he had begun carrying his own memo book to conversate — another addition to the list.

you sat in silence for a brief period before writing, every thought and feeling and idea that has ever encountered my mind would leave my lips.

he wrote, then i will give you just that, and more.

when you began dating alhaitham, you found that he was much more eager to “speak” to you consistently. he would write in his same font and present to you a variety of inquiries, ranging from plans for the day to what you wanted for dinner. he was the epitome of a loving man, a far cry from the tales of coldheartedness and brutality you’ve heard of him. and yet, something began to gnaw at your lungs as he did so.

alhaitham was your voice to speak through — he was the monotonous ramblings, the heavy whispers, the gentle laughs; he held all of those for you. seemingly, life became far more breathable.

but your love was just as restricting as it was kind. to speak is to suffer, but to not speak at all is beyond that — it is torture. nights were spent staring at alhaitham’s sleeping figure, questioning whether he truly felt the affection you expressed. gifts, contact, quality time; what good was it if you could not do something as simple as converse with him? it extended beyond him, as well — for reasons unknown, it grew increasingly difficult to communicate with your new professors and classmates, the downturns of their lips as you pulled out a notebook gut-wrenching. you questioned if alhaitham felt the same.

you began to spiral.

a rapid set of knocks arrived at your door at a questionable hour. the sun hung high in the sky, albeit obscured by your curtains. a soft buzz rung in your room.

“i know you’re inside,” a voice spoke from the other side of the wood. he knocked again.

you made no move to open the door, nor to approach it, nor to get up from your bed. in response, the hinges creaked and heavy footsteps neared.

“why have you locked yourself in here?” alhaitham asked, his tone indiscernible. you didn’t see it, but you heard him shuffling around your bedroom. “where is your notebook?”

it was silly. he spoke as if you could respond, and you weren’t sure if you were supposed to be sorrowful or upset.

he pulled the blanket from off of your head, his face indifferent as he witnessed your disheveled state. “i’m not sure what’s going on, but i can assure you i will wait until you’re well enough to speak to me again. i will always wait.” alhaitham set his own memo book and pen beside your pillow. a warm hand held yours, a signal of reassurance. “please get better as soon as you can.”

he turned around to leave, and you could not bring yourself to reach out for him. what would you do? would the words crawl out of your throat, akin to a miracle? or would you plead at him with desperate eyes in hopes he’d read your mind? you did not know. every instance would inconvenience him in some way — that you could not bear.

you did not step foot outside for another week. alhaitham (and kaveh, much to your surprise) had left meals and gifts next to your door, all of which remained untouched. you were in stasis.

each thought had been replaced by a fog so asphyxiating that it had drowned every word the moment it rose to the surface. a bubbling exhaustion boiled in you. you wished to speak, to express anything at all, to apologize for inconveniencing those around you, and to apologize to alhaitham for putting him through such an obstacle.

as if sensing this desire, he arrived at your dorm again, this time with a more gentle appearance and a large bag behind him.

you reached out for the notebook he placed beside you a week prior. why are you here?

he kneeled down beside you, paying no mind to your disheveled appearance, and spoke softly, “i’m sorry.” if it were fitting, he would have laughed at the instantaneous furrow of your brows. “i should’ve realized. and in failing to do so, i have failed you.” alhaitham took the notebook and pen from your grasp, and with an unrivaled delicacy, he held you.

“i would give up my own voice if it meant i could spend an eternity with you,” he began. “i do not care if you lack a voice of your own. you’re still embedded in my heart all the same.”

you had not written to him for days. and yet, he understood everything. he read the words displayed in your features with a familiarity no one had demonstrated.

758 - willing to help me heal.

alhaitham sat across from you, his back hunched over his work and his face framed with a mix of feather-gray hair and wispy sunlight. he wrote with an unmatched fluidity, as if time were escaping him.

he let out a sigh as he set down his pencil and sat up straight. “why must you sit with me if you’ve finished this assignment weeks ago? it’s as if you’re mocking me.”

it’s entertaining. he grabbed the notebook from your side of the table and wrote haphazardly, contrasting his smooth technique before.

it’s really not. i feel as if i’m being ridiculed and observed under a microscrope. it’s horrible, he teased.

you’re smart, anyways. you’ll survive.

afternoons in the akademiya’s library were once suffocating and exhausting. to be surrounded by peers who could only sneer and misjudge and question was unpleasant. now, as you sat with your lover in a soft silence, you felt at peace.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin angst #genshin fluff #genshin smut #genshin impact angst #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham angst #alhaitham smut

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thatbitchery · 4 months

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& ladies remember outside your leveling up circles if anyone asks you eat at the drive thru, it's burger & fries, you prefer sweatpants and spend your time watching Turkish Thai dramas and your sexual orientation is pretty kpop boys. Your goal in life is to get married and stay at home and your hobbies are flip flops and watching gmmtv, you're the most basic average Jane there is out there you just dress up because mom makes you. What have we said about keeping your competition feeling safe? In competitive environments so school and office and your local communities and especially your family you're couch potato potato so you're not available because new series just dropped- do you want to cause unnecessary friction? Keep your level up to yourself and your level up groups people are herds herds herds with that crabby crabba crab mentality so any sign you could leave the herd behind is a trigger to Crabb crabbb crabby pull you back into the bucket. Human beings are animals before they are people when will you understand this? Why would you scream in the face of a tiger? Do you want to get bullied? What happened to moving in silence.

Keep your workouts out of social media and your trips to the dermatologist to yourself, your paycheck is between you and your bank and stay away from the brands unless everyone in your group is wearing them so brands are just the average. Why would you sabotage yourself like that? Why would you go telling anyone your goals? Do you want to get laughed at? Haven't you learned your lesson? Hasn't your mother, your own mom, judged you for wanting to be better? Even though you're not in competition? Then why would you tell Betty from HR when it's literally the most competitive environment out there? Do you want to ostracize yourself? Then don't create drifts with your herd and level up in the shadows, when your current friends see you eating healthier its omg lol why? Then the answer is actually I took a blood test, autoimmune diseases are around the corner you don't know how badly I need McDonald's rn but life first. You're dressing elegant lately- girl stop my mom is insufferable she's making me these conservatives please. You look nicer- I'm on birth control, I had that acne issue. I feel the weight creeping up lol. You're taking more classes? Gosh yes there's this scholarship thing I need so you know. Your posture is better lately- baby girl stop my back was on fire last week leave me alone I was dying like- it's never because you're bettering yourself. Never. Ever. As long as they're concerned couch potato potati potata average Janey.

Human societies are competitive in nature especially among women because resources are so scarce and we know this and herd mentality makes us detest people that place themselves in positions to have better access to these so once you start getting better its underhanded compliments and what's app groups and side glances as you walk, learn to keep people comfortable and do you in the background, don't buy into whatever self soothing we are all good people bs you're being sold, we are only as supportive as you're below us once you start doing better your own sister and best friend have a lot to say. Move in silence & keep your life away from public view and have believable excuses for what you can't always hide & find a way to say you're better than me. Why cause unnecessary friction?

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candycandy00 · 3 months

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The Doll House - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Covered in scars and left totally numb by your abusive previous owner, you’re considered an “unsellable doll”. That is, until the Doll House takes you in and Sukuna becomes your trainer.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Sukuna’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m not keeping the same tag list as before, since this part deals with darker themes. I will resume the tag list after Sukuna’s part is finished! So if you want to be tagged in this one, please specify!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. BDSM. Erotic Torture. Needles. Reader is covered in scars. Everything that happens between Sukuna and Reader is consensual but there is mention of abuse by a previous owner. Divider by @benkeibear!

“That’s all you’ll give me for her?”

“I think this is a generous offer, all things considered.”

You’re sitting in a plush leather chair in the office of the owner of the Doll House while your father argues with her about pricing. It’s been going on for thirty minutes now, your father growing more agitated while the owner remains calm and firm.

“Sir,” the owner begins, leaning forward slightly over her desk, “there are two major issues with your daughter. For one, she has a previous owner. Most of our clients consider that a deal breaker.”

“She was just with that guy a little over a year!” your father retorts, his face slightly red.

“I’m aware of that. But that leads us to the other issue.” The owner pauses and glances at you. “Your daughter’s scars are quite prominent. They’re very hard to ignore.”

There’s a hint of an apology in her eyes. It’s unnecessary. You know better than anyone that you’re disfigured. Scars of various types and sizes cover over half your body, including a sizable portion of your face.

Your father is sweating. “I‘ve heard some clients have weird tastes, that they actually want… people like her.”

The owner leans back in her chair. “It is true that we sometimes get unusual requests. But it doesn’t happen often. She would have to be given highly specialized training, to emphasize that unique aspect.”

Your father’s face lights up. “Then do that!”

The owner looks from him to you, then says, “I need to speak to her privately before finalizing the purchase.”

“What? Why?” your father asks.

“It’s a routine part of the interview, I assure you,” the owner replies smoothly.

Your father hesitates, but then stands up from his seat. He gives you a stern look, a warning look, and then he’s out the door.

The owner’s face seems to soften slightly. “How do you feel about this?”

You shrug. “I don’t feel anything. I haven’t in a long time.”

The owner looks at a laptop sitting open on her desk. “Let’s go over a few things in your file first. It says here you were sold on the direct market on your eighteenth birthday. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“You were with your previous owner for sixteen months before being removed, during which time he breached the contract by doing permanent harm. Hence the scars.”

“Yes,” you answer again.

“And I see that your father sued your previous owner, collecting quite the hefty sum for your suffering.”

You nod.

The owner closes the laptop and looks at you again. “And I’m guessing your father already blew through that money, despite only two years passing. So he’s selling you again. How many other doll shops has he taken you to so far?”

“Three.”

“Any offers?”

“None,” you say, eyes lowering toward the floor.

The owner sighs. “If I don’t take you, he’s going to sell you on the direct market again, isn’t he?”

“He already tried,” you tell her, “but he said the offers were too low. If no shop will take me, he’ll probably go back and take a low offer.”

The owner grimaces. “He’s a real sick fuck, your father.”

“I know.”

“Do you want me to take you on?”

You think for a moment, then say, “It doesn’t matter. I can’t feel anything anyway.”

“When you say that,” the owner says, “do you mean physically or emotionally?”

“Both. I’ve been numb for nearly three years now.”

The owner picks up a silk fan from her desk and lightly taps her chin with it as she regards you. After a few moments, she says, “Alright. I’ll take you. I’ll make a slightly higher offer to your father, one he would be foolish to refuse. And in light of your unique circumstances, I’m going to add two extra clauses to your contract. The first is that you will have the option to change trainers if the one I assign to you is too much for you.”

You nod. “And the second?”

“All dolls sold through the Doll House are allowed to come back within one week of being purchased by a client, if they provide sufficient reasoning. In your case, I’m extending that to two weeks, and you don’t have to provide a reason. I’ll take you back, no questions asked, if you feel like your owner isn’t right for you. However, I would advise you not to abuse this privilege.”

“I understand.”

“Alright then. Let’s get your father back in here and finalize the sale.”

******************

Sukuna grins when he sees the message on his phone: “I have a new doll for you to train.”

He’s at home, in his swanky, upscale apartment in the city. Though he enjoys his alone time, he very much enjoys his work at the Doll House as well. Unlike the other trainers, Sukuna doesn’t keep a near constant flow of new dolls. He understands why of course. His training produces a very specific sort of doll that only a specific sort of client wants. But he trains enough dolls to keep himself well paid, and the work is incredibly satisfying.

The standard training time is six weeks, which is exactly the right amount of time for Sukuna to thoroughly enjoy each doll without getting too bored with them before they’re handed over to their owners. He can’t imagine why anyone would want to keep the same doll for ten whole years. He knows he’s not alone in this thought, which is why doll rental services have been growing in popularity lately.

He packs a few things into a small duffel bag. He keeps plenty of clothes and personal items in his room at the Doll House, so he only has to pack lightly for the six week stay. He’s in a good mood as he turns off the lights and locks the door.

When he arrives at the Doll House, he finds a rather interesting young woman sitting in the welcome room. Interesting because half her pretty face is covered in scars, as well as what’s visible of her left arm. Just how far do they extend? He’s looking forward to finding out.

She glances up at him, but gives no reaction. Strange. Most new dolls look terrified, or at least nervous, when they see him for the first time. It’s probably the tattoos that frighten them. Sukuna is well aware that they make him look like a Yakuza member, or some criminal from a past era. But he so enjoys the way people instinctively shrink back away from them.

The owner meets him in the welcome room and ushers him into her office. All trainers are briefed on their new dolls, except in unusual circumstances. But the owner looks troubled today, meaning this doll has a story. But he supposes the scars made that obvious already.

Sitting in a chair across the desk from the owner, Sukuna places one elbow on the cushioned arm and props his face up with his hand. “So? What’s the deal with little Miss gloomy out there?”

The owner is tapping keys on her laptop, then he hears his phone chime from his pocket. “I’ve sent you her file. You really need to read over it. She has a complicated history.”

“Give me the short version,” he says, making a mental note to at least skim the file later.

“Previous owner who abused and tortured her, shitty father who’s sold her twice now, and… she can’t feel anything.”

That last part captures Sukuna’s attention. “What does that mean?”

“She’s completely numb, both physically and emotionally. I’ve read over her medical reports, and they’ve concluded that there’s no significant nerve damage. The scar tissue dulls her senses in those areas somewhat, but they don’t leave her totally numb like this. And she can’t feel anything in the unscarred areas either.”

“Meaning it’s psychological,” Sukuna says.

The owner nods. “It’s clearly a defense mechanism. Her body and mind simply shut off all sensation in order to cope. And that’s going to be her biggest issue as a doll. There are plenty of buyers who would find the scars exotic, but a doll who doesn’t react to anything? No one wants that. And if we don’t eventually find a buyer for her, she’s going to get passed around from one scumbag to another on the direct market for the rest of her life.”

Sukuna had little interest in the doll’s sob story, but he was intrigued by the fact that she couldn’t feel anything. “So you want me to fix her? Make her feel again?”

“Yes. I figured if anyone could, it would be you. But be careful. She’s already been shattered. I don’t need you grinding up the pieces.”

Sukuna stands up and heads for the door. “Don’t worry. I’ll reforge her,” he says with a smile, “in a way that pleases me.”

***************

The man covered in strange black tattoos introduces himself as your trainer. He’s handsome, well-built, and dressed like a man far too rich to be working here. A few years ago, you might have been attracted to him. Your heart might have fluttered at the thought of him touching you. But now? Now you feel nothing as he tells you to follow him to his room.

He opens the door and walks in first, turning on the lights as he goes. You follow behind him and look around. The room looks like someone converted a fancy hotel room into a dungeon.

The deep red carpets and expensive looking furniture contrast with the various… devices around the room. There’s an X shaped table, harnesses and chains hanging from the ceiling, and a wall of leashes, whips, rods, and other such items along the left side of the room.

Ah, so he’s this type.

You’re not surprised. Actually, it makes sense. Give the girl who can’t feel pain to the trainer who tortures his dolls.

The man, who said his name is Sukuna, is watching your face, looking for a reaction. He won’t find one. But instead of seeming disappointed, he’s grinning.

“My specialty is probably obvious,” he says, to which you nod. Then he goes over to the wall of tools and toys, taking something small and shiny from it. When he returns, there’s a silver, claw-like item on his right index finger. Without a word of warning, he approaches you and quickly swipes the claw over your exposed right forearm.

You look down, curious, to see a thin red line appear on your skin, small drops of blood beading along it before sliding down. You watch the blood with no expression for a moment before looking back up at Sukuna.

His grin is wider than before. “You really didn’t feel that,” he says, not a question but a statement. He’s standing in front of you, staring at you, when he says, “Let me ask you something, and think hard about your answer. It’s going to determine how the training proceeds.”

You nod.

“Do you prefer being this way to how you were before?”

You blink as the question settles into your mind. You’ve never really thought about it before, but do you prefer being numb? It’s helped you block out the hurt you felt upon being sold off by your father, being abused by your owner, but it also blocks out any joy.

“I… I don’t know.”

He’s looming over you, looking down with an expression you can’t quite place. Is it desire? Pity? Disgust? Or have you lost the ability to distinguish them?

“Do you want to feel again?” he asks, something about his deep tone telling you to answer honestly. The sheer intensity of his presence is overwhelming you.

You can still remember when you felt things. You can remember a poor but happy childhood when your mother was still alive. Even after, when things got worse, there were still moments of happiness. Watching movies with a friend, eating cheap snacks from the convenience store down the street. A kiss from the boy you had a crush on in high school. You miss these feelings. And once you realize that, your answer is clear.

“Yes, I want to feel again.”

“Even if what you feel is pain?” he asks.

An emotion you haven’t felt in years bubbles to the surface, startling you so much that your voice cracks slightly as you reply, “Yes! I’d love to feel pain again. I’d love to feel anything!”

A smile spreads across his features, and his hands move to your shirt. “I’ll make you feel again,” he says as he pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it aside. “But it will only work if you want it.”

“I… I want it,” you say, realizing with some measure of shock that you’re already feeling emotions you thought long dead.

He removes the rest of your clothes, leaving them strewn about the floor. Then he stands back to look at you. Completely bare before him, you don’t feel embarrassed. Shame is yet another emotion you can’t seem to feel anymore. But there is a strange prickling sensation on your skin as his eyes rake over you, taking in the scars that form a map of your suffering.

“It’s like a work of art,” he says, his gaze lingering on the left side of your torso. The words make you feel something else, but you’re not sure what that is. Your own emotions have become unfamiliar to you.

He leads you over to the X shaped table and lifts you onto it, then spreads you out on it like a meal. He slowly attaches the leather cuffs on each end to your ankles and wrists, still watching your face for any sign of fear.

There is none. You’re starting to feel things for the first time in three years, but fear isn’t one of them. If he can bring back the girl you once were, one who could laugh and smile and feel, then you’ll accept anything he wants to do to you.

Once you’re secured to the table, he stands back and unbuttons his shirt. When he slips it off his shoulders, you get a full view of the intricate tattoos on his body. They’re beautiful, the way they move and twist with his body’s motion.

He steps back to the table and runs one large hand over your arm, trailing it down toward your chest, where he squeezes your scarred breast. You can’t feel it, so you don’t know if he’s squeezing hard or not, but when his fingers lightly slide over your nipple, a tingling sensation blossoms there. What was that?

Did he notice that you felt something? You don’t think you visibly reacted in any way, but he’s smiling as if he knows. His fingers suddenly pinch your nipple, and you feel pressure, but little else. He maintains eye contact as he leans down and runs his tongue over that same nipple, then wraps his lips around it. You feel it again, that pleasant tingling. It reminds you of something, but you can’t remember what.

His hand moves to your other breast, where his fingers grope and pinch. You feel this a little more, and your breathing quickens slightly. That’s when he stops abruptly and goes over to the wall again. This time he returns with a rolled up velvet pouch, which he unrolls to reveal a group of very long, very thin, shiny silver needles.

He pulls one out and holds it up for you to see. “Let’s see how numb you really are,” he says. Then he grips your scarred nipple between his finger and thumb with one hand while using the other to bring the needle closer. He looks up at your face, perhaps still searching for a trace of fear. Finding none, he pushes the needle in, sliding it sideways through your flesh.

Your breath hitches as a new sensation hits you. This… this is pain! You haven’t felt it in so long, you’d almost forgotten it. When he grips the other nipple, the one with no scar tissue to dull your senses, you almost flinch. He grins up at you, as if he’s reading your mind. He leans down and licks the nipple slowly, awakening it to sensation, before plunging the needle in.

This time you gasp, your arms reflexively tugging on the restraints. You felt that! Not as keenly as a normal woman would, but far more than you’ve felt anything else in years. It hurt. It still hurts as his hand squeezes your breast, his tongue running over the needle imbedded in your skin. But you welcome the pain. It’s far more preferable to no feeling whatsoever.

Then he steps back again, and walks around the table to the bottom, where he moves in between your widely spread legs. His hand moves to your pussy, kneading it gently for a moment before his fingers slip inside your folds, finding you clit.

You draw in a sharp breath as he strokes it, feeling the pleasure so strongly that it’s almost as if you were never numb. Your previous owner had ignored your clit, having no interest in giving you pleasure, so these sensations were entirely new to you.

When Sukuna uses his fingers to spread you open and leans forward to lick your quivering clit, your body nearly jerks off the table. He rises up and looks at you. “Not so numb down here, are you?”

You can only gasp out shallow breaths.

His thumb begins stroking you again as he speaks. “I don’t care who your previous owner was.” He reaches over and pulls one more needle from the pouch, his tongue running over you again, making your nerves come alive. “I don’t care if you’ve had a thousand different owners before me.” His thumb and finger pinch your clit, holding it in position. Your heart races as you wait, now holding your breath. “Because now,” he says, gliding his tongue across the glimmering needle in his hand, “you belong to me.”

He pushes the needle into your clit from the bottom and out the top, so slowly that you feel every single bit of it. Your body bucks from the table, your arms and legs jerk against the cuffs, and a loud scream erupts from your mouth as you feel excruciating pain for the first time in three years.

It’s wonderful.

Tears spring to your eyes, and you cum on the spot, weeping and shuddering. You were certain you would never experience an orgasm again for the rest of your life, but here you were, riding out the insane pleasure while Sukuna’s tongue prodded your clit, licking over the needle stuck there.

**************

Sukuna watches his doll as she sleeps peacefully in his bed. She passed out not long after the “training session” was over, just as he was unfastening the cuffs on her wrists. He carried her to his bed and laid her there, and now he’s looking over her scarred form once more before covering her.

He’s surprised by the progress they’d already made, but he can’t get too comfortable.

Because he noticed it. When he pulled the needles out of her, which should have hurt, she didn’t even flinch. He’d squeezed one nipple afterwards, before beginning to uncuff her, just to test it. This should have made her scream, given how sore she should be, but she had no reaction at all.

Meaning she’s numb again. The awakening of her senses was only temporary, and wore off after she came down from the high of her orgasm.

Sukuna smiles. He certainly enjoys a challenge, and it’s clear to him that his job is far from over.

Tag List:

@akaotv

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk x reader #x reader #jjk smut

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cowboyfromh3ll · 6 months

Note

gonna keep the shy reader hcs party going and kindly request how arthur, john, and charles (and any other characters you might have added) would tease her once they’ve been together for a little while. who likes flustering her the most and who would get away with it the longest before she realizes he’s doing it on purpose 👀 as for the smutty part, what’s their favorite ways to rile her up before taking pity and giving her what she wants (i imagine some would be nicer than others lol)

Shy!Reader HC Ft. Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Charles Smith (Smut)

Y'all love your shy reader hcs

Warnings: smut

Arthur Morgan

I feel like Arthur wouldn't be too big of a tease but when he is, they're very non consequential things

You fell off your horse? You were hunting together and missed the shot by a lot? You hurt yourself trying to do something daring on a job? He'd be like omg come over here lemme fix it for you baby

His goal is never to make you feel less than or somehow incompetent with his teasing

But oh you got syrup all over your face and hands? You buttoned your shirt incorrectly? You snort when you laugh? He's gonna keep going until you're blushing and giggling at him to stop

Even if there's nothing wrong with your outfit he'll go over to you and find SOMETHING to fix

Will spend an unnecessary amount of time fixing your collar or scarf

It'd probably be pretty easy to tell what he's trying to do, not very slick

Would compliment you to try and make you blush but he just ends up making himself blush

If you're insecure over something he'll make sure to compliment that aspect of you over and over again

Flirts with the idea of marriage and kids one day and that'll have you SWOONING

Sometimes he'll rub your belly when you talk about it and it'll make you CRUMBLE

NSFW

Oh he's gonna be such a big tease, and he'll do it perfectly

Does it in a way that can be passed off as accidentally and goes unnoticed by anyone else but you

Rubs his crotch on you while making his way past behind you

Subtly brushes your thigh or ass with his hand

Kisses up your neck until you're all hot and bothered and pulls away before saying he's gotta do something

If y'all are sitting around a table in a group setting he'll have you on his lap so you can feel him harden. Keeps playing poker like nothing

If you're sitting next to him he'll place his hand on your inner thigh but never moving it close enough to where you want it

His favorite way to rile you up is to touch you all over during make outs then never going past that

Takes pity on you when he sees you get genuinely frustrated, thinks it's hilarious though

Charles Smith

He's so subtle with it that you wouldn't even catch it until a few seconds later

You gotta think about it before you truly get it

You could complain about how hot it is and he'll recommend you take off your clothes

Oh you say your backs hurting? Charles recommended course of action is visiting him at his tent tonight so he can fix it wink wink

You'll actually show up and he'll actually be surprised you haven't gotten it yet

Will give you a massage nonetheless

Would take you a while to pick up on it and that's the beauty of it to Charles

Would do things without the intention of making you blush but if he notices something does he'll keep at it

You like it when he plays with your hair? Then he'll braid it and put flowers in it and rave about how beautiful it is

Hands you flowers and tells you it reminded him of you

Makes you little trinkets and objects and says the most flowery things about how he tried to make it a fraction of how beautiful you are

NSFW

Like his aforementioned forms of teasing, he'll do just that

In fact, in times where you do catch on, he'll pretend like he never meant it that way and you're the one who's trying to get something going

Will give you THAT LOOK when you're together in public and you BOTH know you won't be able to do anything for hours

During make outs he'll rub your inner thighs or ass or sides but never touching you where you need it.

His hands are very light, his touches never heavy handed

He'd give in real easy to you. Just pout or give him puppy eyes and he'll give in

Even being bold enough to tell him what you want will have him in a trance

He's a giver so he can never deny you for too long for his own satisfaction

John Marston

Oh my God his teasing definitely goes too far

I don't mean that in a cute way I mean he probably ends up hurting your feelings because he does not know when to stop

Sucks at flirting

Your shy nature just makes it more awkward

But once you get used to his failed attempts at being coquettish you'll be able to recognize when he's trying to flirt

Is probably super obvious when he's trying and when he's successful he'll actually make you blush

His successful attempts are probably unintentional. Says something he won't think will land but is surprised when it works

Excuses himself for a moment and celebrates a few feet away before turning like normal

He has like a time to cool down on successful flirting. Only successful once every three days or something like that

Tries to compliment you but it comes out awkwardly and stiff

If you say something back slightly flirty he's gonna blank and not know how to continue from there

As soon as he approaches you and says "uhh.. hey" you already know what he's trying to do

Opposite of Arthur so he WILL tease you for falling off your horse

Awkwardly hugs you and pats your shoulder if you cry while apologizing profusely

NSFW

Can't rile you up for too long without exciting himself

Keeps his arm on your lower back and dips his fingers inside your waist band

Type to pull on your overalls (if you wear em) and lets them snap back into you

Will come up behind you and rub his stubble into your neck before whispering filthy things into your ear

Likes it when you put up a little playful resistence

If y'all are sitting down somewhere together he'll put his hand on your ankle before running it up under your skirt

Ends up giving in mostly because HE can't take it anymore and is too excited

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption 2 x reader #van der linde gang x reader #writing #red dead fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader smut #john marston #john marston x reader smut #john marston x reader #charles smith #charles smith x reader #charles smith smut #charles smith x reader smut #john marston smut

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mikavlcs · 1 year

Text

Absence Persistent

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: You’re physically affectionate with everybody except for Wednesday, and she’s determined to find out why.

Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday, yes that is indeed a warning

Word count: 2k

Notes: another late post lol. this a joint request, hope you guys enjoy! (especially you mom)

Masterlist

Physical affection was something that, for the most part, annoyed Wednesday.

Contrary to what many believed, she did not hate it (though if you asked her, she would certainly say she did). She simply didn’t crave it the way so many others did. It was fine in small increments but after a while, it made her uncomfortable.

So while she wasn’t against the very occasional, short-lived hug from those she was close with, it was just something she deemed unnecessary. Something she could easily live without.

Wednesday still tolerated it from a select few people. Namely her family. Her mother was still kind enough to stay at arm’s reach most of the time, but her father was overbearing even when he was trying to tone his affections down. Pugsley was allowed small 10-15 second hugs because he was weak and he needed it.

Enid somehow wormed her way onto that list of people, mostly because she just couldn’t help herself. She was allowed a maximum of 30 seconds worth of physical contact per day, and once that was spent, Wednesday had no qualms about shoving her off.

Though you were close with Enid, you fell into the same category as her mother—seeming to understand and respect her need for personal space.

It was one of the things that drew her to you at first, something that eventually made her (marginally) more willing to close the gap between you two emotionally and allow you behind her walls piece by piece.

She was half convinced that after confessing your feelings, you would switch on her. That you would want to hold hands or hug or, god forbid, cuddle.

However, that didn’t happen. Even after your romantic relationship with her began, you never expected affection from her. You still maintained that distance.

When you sat next to her during class or lunch, you made sure there was ample room between you so your legs or arms never touch hers. While studying, you sat across from her, textbooks and worksheets taking up the void between.

It was amazing, easily one of her favorite parts of your relationship. The fact that you respected her space without any complaints only made you more attractive in her eyes.

Aside from the occasional kiss, you existed in a completely separate space from her. Always. And she liked it that way.

But then her own mind started to betray her.

It started small, with an insignificant observation. Wednesday had always known that you enjoyed being touchy with people you cared for, but over time she began to notice just how much casual physicality you had with your friends.

Walking shoulder to shoulder with Yoko between classes, getting piggybacks from Xavier, giving high fives and fist bumps to Ajax, leaning against Bianca during conversation at lunch, ruffling Eugene’s hair while harvesting a hive together—the list was endless, and it was frequent.

And only when she noticed this did it occur to her that you had never so much as brushed against her before, not even accidentally.

Wednesday found an ache forming with each subsequent act she witnessed, the gratefulness she felt about you keeping your distance slowly souring.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, Enid was a particular point of contention in this aspect.

See, Enid shared your propensity for physical affection. It was one of the reasons why you two were such close friends.

You and Enid were always physically connected in some way when you were together. Linking arms, holding hands, resting your head on her shoulder or on her lap while you gossiped about whatever trite drivel Enid put on her blog recently.

Wednesday hated it. She hated having to be subject to your constant physicality, seeing the two of you so unabashedly happy to be in one another’s presence, to see you so open in displaying it. But worst of all, she hated the way it made her feel in turn.

Jealousy wasn’t something Wednesday was used to feeling, especially toward someone as non-threatening as Enid. But the feeling itself wasn’t even the worst part, it was the way it fed into her burgeoning insecurity.

The desire to feel your skin on hers spread like a malignant cancer, slowly poisoning her mind, body, and soul.

She grew to hate the ever-present space between you two, silently wishing you would bridge the gap and brush your shoulder or arm against hers in the halls, intertwine your fingers between hers while studying, or wrap your arms around her in the solitude of your dorm.

Anything to alleviate the growing want within her.

But she could never find the words. Try as she might, Wednesday just couldn’t find the right time, the right place, the right circumstance. And on the rare occasions that she did, her voice caught in her throat, whatever words she had on her tongue dying in the face of the seemingly insurmountable chasm between you and her.

So she could only sit, wait, and watch from across the rift until her emotions finally boiled over and pushed her into action.

Weekly study sessions were something Wednesday routinely looked forward to.

It was a tradition that began mere months after she met you. At first, she simply needed a study partner and no one else was willing to go at her (completely reasonable) pace except for you.

You, who said that very first day that you would always go at her pace, a sentiment that you continued to echo even now, months into your relationship.

Usually, these sessions would be in the Weathervane, tucked into her favorite booth in the back corner together for hours on end, talking about so much more than schoolwork. But recently, having the table separating you from her was agonizing; it was like a physical manifestation of the distance between you.

She couldn’t deal with it anymore, so she began inviting you to study in her dorm. It wasn’t quite as pleasant as the café but she was willing to sacrifice comfort to get even an inch closer to you.

And yet, she was no closer than before.

Because even now, you were staying away from her. Keeping the books between you as you sat across from her on the floor. Even without the physical barrier of the table, there remained an immovable expanse of space between you that she just couldn't get rid of.

You were so close yet still so far and Wednesday could no longer take it.

“Do you not care for me as much as you do your friends?” Not the most articulate way to put it, but it was to the point, and it effectively got your attention.

Your head shot up with a whiplash-inducing urgency, brows furrowed and eyes wide with a concern that permeated your tone. “What? Of course I do, Wednesday. Why would you think I didn’t?”

“It’s just-” She cut herself off, her point not quite coming together correctly. Wednesday never struggled with her words. She was a writer, after all. So the sudden trouble she was having annoyed her greatly. Stubbornly, she started again. “You always…touch them. You said yourself that it’s how you show that you care for someone, but you never touch me. You never show me that you care for me like that.”

“Wednes-“ you began, but she didn’t notice, plowing on with her thoughts.

“Did I do something? Have I upset you? Do I repel you somehow?” The way her voice shook at the end nearly made her look away, the sudden show of insecurity exceedingly humiliating. But she needed to know what was wrong.

“No, no, you haven’t done anything to upset me,” you said, shaking your head quickly. The words did little to ease Wednesday’s mind.

“Then why don’t you show me the same physicality you show them?” she asked, voice lowering to a near whisper.

“Well, I’ve seen how uncomfortable you get whenever Enid tries to touch you too much. So I tried my best to avoid any contact with you so you didn’t begin to resent me for subjecting you to something that you hate,” you sighed, posture deflating slightly. “I just didn’t want to do anything to drive you away from me.”

Conflicting emotions coursed through Wednesday.

The revelation that you were constantly abstaining from something you loved for her was…undeniably sweet. But it was also terrifying—the fact that you were willing to change something so fundamental to yourself as the way you showed love for her perceived comfort.

Wednesday had never met anyone outside her family that cared for her so much that they would alter their behavior for her benefit. And, admittedly, she wasn’t sure what to do now that she had.

In the end, all she could muster was a distantly mumbled, “I see.”

Almost immediately, she was swept back into her head, conflicted again.

On one hand, this was completely uncharted territory. Hugging Enid of her own accord once was one thing, but wanting to do things like that with you constantly was something else, something unfamiliar. Something that, if she was honest, she wasn’t sure she was aptly prepared for.

But she was Wednesday Addams. She had stood up to Tyler after his betrayal, faced Thornhill alone in the crypt, looked Crackstone right in the eye during the final battle without fear. She prided herself on never letting insignificant feelings like fear stop her from getting what she wanted.

And Wednesday would be appalled if she allowed herself to be defeated by something as menial as this.

Fingers twitching, she braced herself to reach out to you, but you were already moving before she could.

Her eyes followed you as you stood, abandoning your open textbook on the floor and offering her a hand. She stared at it for a moment then slowly brought her hand to yours, inhaling against the electricity that coursed through her as you pulled her to her feet. You tugged her over to her bed and laid down, pulling her down with you.

You took a moment to situate yourself into a comfortable position on your side before winding your arm around her, softly pressing her back to your chest.

Wednesday was frozen, tense in your arms as she took in the situation.

The newness of it was overwhelming in a way she couldn’t hate. Her heart raced at the sensation of having you literally wrapped around her, your hold on her waist tender and firm and entirely disruptive to her state of mind.

Any coherent string of thoughts was muddled by the feeling of your thumbs stroking her stomach, the way she could feel your chest rise against her back, the steady beat of your heart reverberating through her, contrasting her own.

“Relax, Wednesday.” Your words vibrated against her back, and she found herself complying before she even fully realized what you said.

She allowed the feeling of your all-encompassing embrace to still her turbulent thoughts, letting your warmth seep into her bones and calm the frantic beating of her heart.

Minutes passed before she dared to slip her hand down yours, interlacing her fingers with yours like she wanted to do for so long. A soft breath against her neck made her shiver.

Wednesday wanted to stay in this moment as long as possible but again, her body began to betray her. Exhaustion weighed down on her, drooping her eyelids with an alarming frequency. Staying awake was becoming more of a challenge by the second, but she was determined to escape the hold of her sudden enervation.

As if you had a sixth sense about her situation, you shifted lightly, slipping one of your legs between hers.

“Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,” you murmured, the light slur in your words indicating that you too were close to succumbing to the call of slumber.

“Promise?” she asked, uncaring of how childish the question was.

The soft laugh you let out tickled the hair on her neck. You tightened your hold on her waist, properly resting your forehead on the back of her head. “Yeah, I promise.”

Satisfied, Wednesday closed her eyes, the bliss of your touch being her last thought before she was finally lulled into a dreamless sleep within your embrace.

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega

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hyewka · 1 year

Text

love me | c.bg

synopsis; maybe starting a sexual relationship with a friend that is so clearly in love with you isn't the best idea you've had in a while, but god knows how much longer you could stay sexually frustrated with your boyfriend...and plus, he offers himself to you! how could you refuse?

or in which your best friend so graciously offers to satisfy your very stale sex life.

warnings; sub!gyu, dom!reader, fwb, sensitive gyu, thigh humping, gyu cums in his pants, infidelity!!! not proofread, i had no direction for this whatsoever lol

You couldn't hide the way your mouth fell open at your best friend's suggestion, so out of left field you couldn't help but laugh before fully processing the fact that he was serious.

"What."

"Don't look at me like that! I...I don't know, you just keep complaining, so I was just like, why not. I mean, I don't mind." You still gape at him, the way he was so casually on his phone as if he didn't just ask you to use him for your sexual pleasure.

And as if he didn't just completely ignore the fact that you had someone you've already committed yourself to!

Like he's reading your mind, Beomgyu speaks up again, looking at you this time as if attempting to persuade you. "It's not cheating if we don't kiss."

You would've laughed again at the bogus logic if this wasn't the situation that it was. You're a doting girlfriend, you admire your man, but it's been years and there hasn't been a single improvement made in the bedroom. You've tried the talking, guiding, everything!

But it seemed no matter what, you were left high up dry. You were sexually incompatible with the man you wholeheartedly believe are in love with.

You haven't been wanting to come in terms with that, choosing denial. If you follow through with Beomgyu's offer, it would be like actually admitting to the doom that is threatening your otherwise perfect relationship.

And the fact that it's Beomgyu, your best friend...makes you a little hesitant. You're not an idiot, at least about Beomgyu. Hes never been fond of your boyfriend, or... any of your boyfriends for that matter. You had a hint of why.

He continues when he catches the way you were at least giving it a thought. "Just saying, I'm your friend...and, and I obviously want the best for you. And he's obviously not making you happy with his sloppy sex skills."

You narrow your eyes at him, offended with the unnecessary jab--your lovely did not lack in the sex field, he just...didn't know how to use his tools...correctly.

"I don't want you stuck living like a nun for the rest your life," You wince-- for the rest of your life? He awkwardly purses his lips. "You know...like, if you end up marrying him or something."

You turn away from him, brows furrowed as you pondered. You definitely aren't prepared to be in a sexless marriage.

Choosing to take a glance to him one more time-- he was attempting to seem nonchalant, but you pride yourself on knowing him more than he knew himself.

Beomgyu wasn't the hardest person to read anyway, at least not with his eyes puppy-like, long fringe gently brushing over them, showing that he was eagerly awaiting a response from you.

There was no way you would do this...right?

---𓆩♡𓆪

Getting comfortable on the couch, rewatching your favorite most beloved sitcom while having your best friend's face buried in between your legs...is a unique experience. One you've been revisiting for a little too long now, to the point the pain of his nails digging into the flush of your thighs doesn't faze you anymore. You instead liked it, the way he got so worked up over making you feel good.

It's not like you haven't tried ending it. Every time you told Beomgyu it was over, that you were done with whatever you had with him, he'd somehow find a way to convince you with just one video.

Usually faceless as he focused his phone camera on his crotch, clearly hard as his bulge is outlined through his sweats-- palming it as he whined, saying oh how he just misses you. You miss him too right?

You'd feel your jaw tick whenever he mentions your boyfriend in his silly videos, but the irritation is quickly left at bay when he finally takes his dick out, sniffles heard in the audio-- frantic as he jerks off, his red swollen tip already leaking. Gosh, could he be any more indecent?

You weren't really in the place to judge, because every time, your thighs would rub together in attempt to get rid of the heat surfacing in between, eyes focused on every detail on your phone.

He never made it easy, especially when he'd use his eyes against you by the end, a flash of his face being the highlight of the short thirty seconds, brows pointed upward as he whispers his final 'miss you' through a pout.

Fuck, what a weakness. His eyes.

Especially now, when he makes sure to look at you as he sloppily ate you out, with those same doe-eyed look, tears making his long lashes prettier.

You place your hand on the messiness of his hair, playing with strands before you look away from his eyes, focusing on the scene you've watched a hundred times before, a fond smile making way onto your lips. It's the one your boyfriend declared it being you guys's 'official' show-- which you hadn't minded, it was funny.

You still end up chuckling at the jokes you've already seen, the delivery never failing to make you tearing up from pure laughter. But it seems like that pisses Beomgyu off, as he whines against your pussy, tongue working to get your attention again. When it's clear that that was a failed attempt, your eyes still focused on the TV, he raises his head. "Are you bored?"

You tear your eyes away to the boy, tilting your head at the sudden question. His lips were glistening, red, forming a pout, clearly insecure. You huff out a laugh through your nose, "That's such a stupid question."

"No it's not. You're focused on the stupid show and not me!" You roll your eyes, unfortunately for you, everyone has flaws, Beomgyu not being an exception-- his was and has always been his tendency to crave full attention on him.

"Am I ...am I not making you feel good?" his voice this time is softer, craving to hear a denial to his insecurities.

You sigh, another weak spot. When Beomgyu's voice cracks in attempt to swallow his tears, your heart cracks.

You're quick to soak up his insecure figure. "Beomgyu, no. Of course you're making me feel good." You feel him calm down, body releasing its previous tension. He rests his head on your tummy, allowing you to play with his hair again, "Yeah?"

"Mhm," you hum. In attempt to lighten the mood a little, you tease, "Am I allowed to watch my show now?"

He nods against your shirts fabric. You smile, your eyes going from him to the TV screen. He just lays his head on your tummy, watching the show with you, arms around your waist. It's strangely intimate, but you dismiss the feeling.

He eventually goes back down on you, and you make sure to turn off the screen, providing him with your full attention. Beomgyu was always good with his mouth so it's no surprise he got you to finish. What's surprising is that he ends it there-- no reason for you to scold him for trying to take more than he was allowed.

"Good boy..." you murmur into his hair, you mean it. Though you were prepared for it, you weren't really in the mood to deep clean your couch again.

Your lids are heavy, almost drifting to sleep but sure enough, you feel Beomgyu's lower half moving against your leg. You think he's just shifting his position so you ignore it, but you quickly learn its something less innocent than that. "You're going to stain my couch again?"

Maybe Beomgyu didn't have his self control in check after all.

He suddenly stops and you try your best to not laugh-- it's like he was caught stealing something. "Go on, as a sorry for not paying attention to you. You deserve it."

He whines against your neck as if to thank you before his hips start rocking against your outstretched leg, quickly turning frantic as his breathing gets heavier. In an attempt to not make this further than it had to be, you never let Beomgyu enter you, only giving him the option of getting off from your thighs.

He audibly complained to you before, but he quickly learned to comply if it meant you wouldn't stop this relationship, adjusting to pathetically humping your leg. You've always been disapproving of his attempt to give you hickeys, it was rightfully risky, but Beomgyu was a horny dog, not able to control the urge to start sucking on the flesh of your skin.

You didn't have the power to stop him, especially when he knew all the right places to nip and slightly pull, choosing that you'll have to cover it up well later. His mind is eventually too cloudy to focus on giving you hickeys, whining with his head buried between your chest. Which makes it easier for your attention to be caught by the sudden light of your phone.

You reach out for it on top of the small coffee table in front of you, disrupting Beomgyu's rhythm for a second, but he doesn't fail to pick it up again-- it's cute, how he gets so worked up.

Your current mood is soured when you see a text notification from your boyfriend, your eyes then immediately travelling up to the time. Shit.

You have to finish this fast before he starts suspecting. You bite down on your lips, still staring at the text that reads, 'When are you coming?' Fuck, how could you forget about the date?

"Y/N...pay attention to me." he whines, making you spare a glance down on him. Beomgyu's head raises, with sniffles, flashing you his puppy eyes. You sigh, discarding your phone before you decide to quicken this-- instead of just laying there for your body to be used, you trail your hand up his shirt.

He shakes his head whimpering, hair messy over his eyes, but you ignore it. Your calloused fingers on his bud sends Beomgyu's head to overdrive, and you know it. Your thumb brushes over the puffy pink of his nipple, and it was over for him.

You catch the hot tears running down his cheeks for a split second before his head falls, hair over his face, humiliated as you continue to rub. "Baby...you're so pretty." you coo, getting his hips to fasten against your thigh, his slender body shaking.

His breathing strains against the fabric of your shirt, whines from the back of his throat, and you feel warmth spread between your legs, signalling that he soiled his pants. But he doesn't slow his movement, still humping your leg. Bad boy.

You're about to scold him but his incoherent whispers become louder, and now they're more than clear to your ears. "I love you, I love you, I love you so much."

You squeeze your eyes shut-- fuck. "Beomgyu..." you try your voice soft, but he's not willing to listen, shaking his head again, sniffling. He tightens his hold around your waist, "I won't let you go. Just forget about him, please forget about him. I love you so much."

In response to your silence, he raises his head from your body meekly, his dark eyes made bright and sparkling with sweet, needy tears, face flushed. "Love me too...please?"

God, what have you done.

----

#txt smut #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu smut #beomgyu x reader #txt hard hours #sub!txt #choi beomgyu smut #sub!idol

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httpsserene · 6 months

Text

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟲: 𝗴𝗲𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲 𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲 & 𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀/𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: george has created a serious problem. you two have been dating for over three years, and he fed from you the first time about three months ago. the problem lies within the fact that he conditioned you to orgasm every time he used you as his glorified high-class wine bottle. on second thought, that’s a pretty good problem to have; his thirst is sated, and yours is as well. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. not beta read. vampires. dubcon (from the inherent plot). safe, sane, and consensual though. coming untouched. no penetrative sex. implied sex. blood drinking. biting. mention of multiple orgasms. unnecessary world building. the grid & mercedes knows about george being a vampire. hickeys/love bites. bruises. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 4k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: george russell x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: prey • the neighborhood

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: i guess i got too into the plot and lost myself in the exposition. i was originally going to delete the beginning ramblings of setting the scene and what not, but this would be like 500 words if i did that. for some reason, the entire grid knows george is a vampire? i couldn’t find the brainpower to explain who he’s hiding it from or how that would work in f1. the kink is more of the inherent tension from drinking somebodies blood. lol, anyways have fun reading 🫶🏽

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cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

george had gotten enough schooling to learn what classical conditioning is. pavlov conditioned dogs to salivate at the sound of a bell ringing; a conditioned response. george may have done the same thing to you–he made the mistake of making sure you orgasm as he bites and drinks from you. now every time he feeds from you, you cum, even if there’s no sexual build-up at all; it could be the most bland feeding session and the minute his venom enters your bloodstream, you can’t fight it—he’s pavlov-ed his girlfriend. he should’ve never allowed himself to feed from you.

when george first met you, he was enamored with you from the start. after every morning run, he would end at a local coffee shop and you would already be cozied up in a corner seat working away on your computer. you smelled delectable, george quickly picked up on that. he was thankful the barista had already memorized his usual order, because he really wouldn’t have enjoyed explaining why his canines had elongated into fangs. he couldn’t handle the way your blood was calling to him and left the coffee shop as soon as he got his drink, running into several people on the way out. you would be in the coffee shop on two out of the three days he came in, and he would be a serious hazard to any customer who came in during the five minutes he was there. it was like this for two months and twelve days (not that he was counting or anything), until you weren’t in your seat one day. george sighed in relief, shoulders relaxing and the fixed grimace in anticipation sliding off his face—what he didn’t expect to feel is disappointment at the lack of your appearance and addicting scent. he dismisses the emotions, convincing himself that he’s just used to the constant repression of his instincts around you. he even takes the time to engage in small talk with the baristas; two months ago he was well-invested into their lives, he has a lot of catching up to do. he allows himself to be forced into a seat at the counter to drink his coffee and indulge in a few pastries that are definitely breaking his diet. it’s an off day for him, his only plans are to stream in the evening with the usual quartet, so he can afford to dine in this morning…and indulge in catching up on the coffee shop gossip, he’s only a man, alright?

george is halfway through his cup of coffee and laughing along to a story about how this adorable kid tried to buy hot chocolate with monopoly money when the entrance door jingles open. he chokes on his sip of coffee, almost spraying it over the counter in surprise as you walk up to the counter. he turns to look at you ordering at the register, to confirm he’s not imagining your presence and—you look amazing. you’re wearing flared black trousers with a short-sleeved, white, collared shirt tucked into them, elegant gold jewelry accented against your brown skin—you’ve dressed up today. it’s different from the usual hoodie and headphones george sees you wearing in that corner nook of yours; at least that’s his excuse for why he ends up staring you down. after finishing your order, you head towards your usual seat and end up making direct eye contact with george, because the universe hates him. he sees your attempt at a polite smile and his cheeks burn red at being caught, and jerks his head forward breaking his stare. he hears you continue to walk past him, and the barista stares at him disbelievingly, “mate…you fumbled that.” george stutters through a denial, but then he hears your footsteps stop—and he knows you haven’t reached the corner seat yet. he picks up on the sound of you turning on your heels and heading back in his direction, and he drops his head into his hands, resigned.

“ah! someone’s taken your seat today,” the barista in front of george calls out to you—george narrows his eyes at the man in warning, “come sit at the counter then; you can tell me what you’re all fancied-up for.” the barista glances at george with a smirk, and he swears this may be the first time he bleeds a human dry.

you laugh and sit at the counter, one seat in between you and george. and george sighs in relief for the second time today; you’re wearing perfume and it taints the smell of your blood, enough for him to not start salivating, at least. its silent for a minute, and george can feel your awkwardness radiating.

“so…” you question teasingly, “not in a rush today, then?”

george turns to look at you, shocked that you’re even talking to him—he never figured he’d be in a conversation with you. while your voice may have been teasing, your eyes are soft, warmed with kindness, and george melts. he manages to muster a tease back in your direction, “no, not today. but, look at you—in business casual attire, i was starting to believe you only knew how to dress in sweatshirts?”

you roll your eyes at him, and a smirk replaces your painfully polite smile, “ah? today must’ve not been the only day you’ve been staring at me, if you’re so familiar with how i dress…even though we’ve never spoken to each other before.” george’s mouth drops open at you checking him, and he can hear both baristas giggling behind the counter. and at that moment, george is pretty sure he fell in love with you right then—even though he didn’t have the balls to ask you out for another month and a half.

for those weeks, every time george came to the cafe, you would wave him over to your table with a bright grin and invite him to sit down across from you. even on days when he really couldn’t afford to be late, he’d find himself sitting down to chat with you. instead of being early to zoom meetings with the mercedes team, he started being on-time, often enough for lewis and toto to comment on it. his only response to their gentle prodding at the change in his behavior being, “i added another mile to my morning run,” when he really was spending those minutes talking to you after his run. after he built up the courage to ask for your number (platonically, of course), he would show up to the driver’s briefings a few minutes late, rushing in yet tapping away on his phone struggling to hide the smile on his face. for all of his superior senses, he doesn’t notice how his grid mates stare at him like he’s lost his mind; eventually, one of the officials calls him out when he glances down at the notifications popping up on his phone screen for the fourth time in five minutes, “mr. russell, i am sure that whatever you find so interesting on your phone can’t be more important than our discussion about track conditions, can it?”

george flushed red (he knew he shouldn’t have fed until later) and stumbled through an apology. after the briefing ends, the drivers start teasing him for being ‘so unprofessional,’ and lewis doesn’t help when he reveals how george has started being late to mercedes team meetings, too. charles pretends to faint, alex gasps in horror, and lando’s eyes light up at the opportunity to be a gremlin.

“boysboysboys,” lando grins, gathering everyone’s attention, “i think it’s finally happened.”

george sighed, over the dramatics already, “what’s happened, lando?”

“you’ve managed to get yourself a girlfriend!” lando shrieks, his high-pitched laughter hurting george’s ears.

george flusters, and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, “she’s not my girlfriend!” and, he’s only made it worse.

alex’s eyes widen, pointing at george in shock, “oh my god—so you are talking to a girl!” george groans and spins on his feet to leave the room, ignoring the jibes and teases of the grown men behind him.

later that night, his hotel room is infiltrated by almost half the grid (including fernando, for some reason), all seeming to rally behind their common goal of getting george to ask you on an actual date. they debase all of george’s points about why he shouldn’t ask you out—the main point being that he’s a fucking vampire—and ask him the one question that he’s been refusing to acknowledge, “you can smell how she feels—does she smell like she likes you?”

george hisses at them half-heartedly, more like a frazzled kitten than a terrifying monster, “yes, i’m already aware that she’s interested in me—that’s the problem! i’ve already led her on this whole time, and she doesn’t know that she has a crush on an undead, immortal, vampire!” the room quiets at his outburst, and he can only groan and drop his head into his hands.

“so just tell her,” max states bluntly, not looking away from the fifa game he’s beating charles’ ass in. george stares at max, appalled.

“let her make the decision for herself, right?” max starts, pausing the game to look at george, “for some bizarre reason she likes you for who you are,” george scoffs, “so, just tell her from the jump—you’ve already led her on enough, so give her the opportunity to decide whether or not if she should date your lame ass.”

the vampire stares at max disbelievingly, “that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

the red bull driver shrugs, ears turning red under the surprised stares in the room, and quickly un-pauses the game and scores on charles. the monegasque screams dramatically, and the tense air is broken. george shakily sighs, anxious, and pulls out his phone to ask you on a date. originally, he was thinking about asking you through a text, but with almost every driver in the room disapproving of any way he goes about wording it, he bares his fangs at them, and steps out of his own room, to call you.

the phone doesn’t even complete the first ring before you pick up, and a pleasant, “hi, georgieeee,” slips from your mouth; he can hear how you’re smiling through the phone. he banters with you for a minute, listening to how you're singing praises about his performance even though the actual race isn’t for another day. when the conversation dies down, he blurts out the question, “do you want to go on a—“

“i would love to go on a date with you!” you cut him off, eagerly, “i mean–sorry, yes. i would like to go out with you.” george laughs, relieved and comforted by the fact that you’re as gone for him as he is for you. he can’t even bring himself to be mad when he hears the men in his room raucously cheer.

and when george took you out for brunch to the same cafe, ignoring the baristas’ proud expressions, he realized he had nothing to worry about. the conversation flowed easily, he made you laugh and you made him laugh, and most importantly, he didn't think about draining you dry like a caprisun. you’ve ditched the cozy outfits and dressed up again—dressed up for him—and george is out of his running attire and fancied up; and you make a off-hand comment about how unnatural this feels, and george is reminded of the one important thing he was supposed to tell you. time has flown by so quickly while the two of you were hidden away in your preferred corner seat, and it’s become mid-afternoon. george surveys the surroundings briefly and is shocked to find that it’s only the two of you, and the baristas in the cafe; it’s the perfect time to tell you.

when george states that he’s a vampire, you obviously think he’s joking, “well, you’re not burning in the sunlight, georgie–so i don’t believe you! i am afraid that if this is a kink of yours, i don’t see a second date in the future.” he tries to smile at your joke but it ends up as more of a grimace, and he exposes his fangs for you to see. he hears the breath catch in your throat, sees your eyes widening in shock, blown-out pupils shrinking in fear, hears your heart beginning to race in your chest, blood rushing in your veins, and smells your scent souring.

“george russell,” you whisper yell, glancing around anxiously, “what the fuck! i believe you—you shouldn’t do that in public! what if someone else saw?!” and that’s when he realized that sure, a small amount of your fear was from the confirmation that he is a supernatural being—but mainly that, you were afraid for him. and at that point, george knew that he could allow himself to be vulnerable with you.

and after three years together, he fed from you for the first time. a lot of planning went into the initial feeding: after the end of the racing season, a trip away just for the two of you, george would satiate his thirst with his usual blood donor supply, he wouldn’t drink more than six ounces from you, you’d eat a full meal and be properly hydrated, and of course, he’d drink from you when you orgasm. the bite hurts in the beginning—george has been told many stories from feeders—and the most common distraction to the pain is a simultaneous orgasm. you were apprehensive yet extremely willing to allow george to drink from you, and told him that you trusted him completely—you even sat through his numerous clinical rundowns of the plan without complaining.

however in the moment, george diverted from the script. instead of having you cum once, george forced three orgasms out of you and bit you on the last one. he practically mauled your neck, chest, and hickeys throughout the night, as if he was teasing himself with the indents on of his teeth on your body before he bit into you. you couldn’t figure out if it was the venom from his bite or the multiple orgasms that had you floating pleasurably. george couldn’t deny that seeing you covered in love bites and his actual fang marks didn’t provoke a hidden possessive trait in him. the love bites he left on your body would fade within a few days, the bite mark would fade in around two weeks—and you told george explicitly that if he ever wanted to feed from you again, he’d be more than welcome to do so.

the vampire always thought that he was the one who was at risk for getting addicted to your blood; his greatest fear being that he wouldn’t be able to resist sucking you dry. however, it rapidly dawned on him: you’re the one who formed an addiction.

george always made sure his thirst was properly sated with his usual blood bags before he drank from you. over three months, he’d consistently make you cum whenever he bit you, whether it was with his fingers, cock, mouth, thigh, etc. but he never quite realized that he conditioned you into cumming whenever he bit you, until the singapore grand prix.

singapore was hot. it wasn’t hell on earth like qatar, but it was still fucking hot. and then, he crashed. as he made his way back to the mercedes garage (stomping under the force of his self-deprecation), he became increasingly aware of the tingle in the back of his throat; he’s hungry, he needs blood. he ignores his race engineer asking if he needs medical attention, and asks for a ‘juicebox,’ the codeword for a blood-bag. only to find out, he had his last one yesterday after qualifying—the hotter race weekends have him draining his supply quicker than usual. the vampire whimpers, and suddenly he’s bombarded by you speeding over from the back of the garage. you’re tugging his face down to eye level, worriedly asking if he’s hurt, but george can only register how alluring your blood smells. contrary to popular vampiric-belief (if that’s a thing, he has no clue), blood does not smell sweet. it smells metallic, and the overall scent is affected by water content and ph-level; you smell velvety, and absolutely perfect to george.

the vampire briefly reassures you that he’s fine, before he grabs you by the hand and turns to toto. george begs his team principal to postpone any of his post-race interviews for as long as he can so he can get a brief feeding in with you before he loses his mind any further. toto cuts george’s pleads off immediately and allows him to do whatever he needs; the brit's temper is short enough already, if your blood can calm his mouth toto will personally send you a brand new g-wagon.

george pulls you along to his driver’s room, slowing when he hears how you’re tripping over your feet two match his speed. he shoves the door open, but kindly guides you with a palm on the small of your back into the room, before he steps in and slams the door shut, locking it with a quickness. he speedily sits on the edge of his couch, and pulls you onto his lap, staring up at you with wide, pleading eyes.

“love,” he starts, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip, “may i drink from you? i should’ve been smarter about preserving my supply, usually i’m more careful about it, but i think i was just overager with everything this weekend. i’ll only take a small sip, just enough to hold me over until we fly back home, yeah? i mean, if you’re uncomfortable, i will not drink from you. i should be able to wait—”

you cover the vampire’s mouth with a hand, and smile softly at him, “yes, georgie, you can feed from me. the whole point of drinking from me was to have me acclimate to the feeling for rare situations like this, yes? i’m okay with it, you can take as much as you need from me.”

george stares at you for a few seconds, for some reason, he’s surprised at your easy allowance, before he’s shaken out of his stupor by you waving a hand in front of his face.

“i won’t be able to make you cum—i need to get out there as soon as possible,” george rambles out.

“ok,” you state, looking at him oddly, “i’m pretty sure i’ll be able to handle it, and if not you’ll know before i do.”

the brit asks if you’re sure one last time, before he effortlessly stands up with you in his arms, spins around and places you on the couch, sitting you where he was. the vampire kneels in front of you, and parts your legs gently, before tugging at the waistband of your pants for permission. you’re still reeling from his easy manhandling (you forget about his superior strength, he never makes it obvious), and how he fell to knees for you—the duality of his actions has you embarrassingly hot. you lift your hips up allowing george to tug off your pants, and you see firsthand how he loses his train of thought.

when george brings you along to a race, he avoids leaving marks in a visible spots, so unfortunately for him, your neck and torso are complete bruise free; the humid weather in singapore meant that you would be wearing tank tops or cropped shirts, so he can’t risk someone seeing a smidge of a bruise on your body; they wouldn’t understand. although, george could take his fill of marking you up on your thighs. the dark skin of your inner thighs is mottled with bruises from his lips and indents of his teeth, all in various stages of healing observed by the various shades of purple they’re colored in. george slowly presses a finger into one of the marks and smirks when a strangled gasp escapes you from the pressure. if the vampire wasn’t so focused on the scent of your blood, he’d probably notice how that motion alone already had you wet.

george buries his head between your thighs, close enough that you can feel the exhales of breath from his nose over your panties. you shift, squirming away from the feeling—this is about giving george blood, which he needs for sustenance, not for you to get turned on at, you try to remind yourself. the brit halts your movements, his hands flexing around you only slightly. you try and buck your hips away to test his grip, and you don’t move a single centimeter. you glance down, making eye-contact with your boyfriend, and the teasing smile he’s hiding behind your thigh has your heart rabbiting faster, even though you roll your eyes at him. george begins to lick and nip across your thighs searching for the best spot to pierce your skin, and you are trapped in your own mind. you’re at the mercy of an immortal being, you have no chance of fighting him off if you needed to. of course, you’re very aware that george wouldn’t lay a finger on you, but your hindbrain runs off of instincts, and it’s telling you george is a predator and you’re clearly his next meal. the adrenaline thrumming underneath your skin causes you to start breathing a little heavier and you manage to wrangle the instinctual fear away to relax under him. george startles you from your thoughts when his cold hand leads yours to rest on the nape of his neck, and he pauses when he feels you jump underneath him.

“hey, you can still say ‘no’ if you’re not ready for this yet. there’s no pressure, love,” george reassures you. the calming tone of his voice has no judgemental lilt, and his words soothe you enough to double-down with your agreement.

“thank you for doing this for me, love. as soon as we get back to the hotel, i’ll take care of you properly–i promise,” george praises you, “now, remember, this won’t take any longer than ten seconds. if you need me to stop beforehand, pinch the skin on my neck and i’ll stop, okay?”

you swallow, clearing your throat, “yes, george. can we start already? my nerves will scare me away if we wait too long.”

george nods, hands petting at your waist reassuringly, before he focuses back on your thighs. his nose tracing along your sensitive skin for a few more seconds, until he stops and nuzzles at a spot almost on the underside of your left thigh, close enough to your pussy to have the fear fade under the anticipation of pleasure. the vampire kisses at the spot three times, before he lets his fangs slide out with an audible shlick. he presses them gently against you skin for a few seconds before he bites down.

the pain isn’t from the invasion of his fangs, but from the spread of the venom. it burns as it spreads through your bloodstream; you imagine this is what boiling alive feels like. the feeling is immense but fleeting. the initial bite has always been paralyzing, but when george takes the first pull of blood, the venom must have reached your brain and taken effect, because the pain instantly switches to an immobilizing amount of pleasure. the scream that was originally building in your chest transforms into a keening moan, the burning pain no longer present.

you feel your core tightening as george continues to feast on your blood; thighs trembling in pleasure, eyes rolling back overwhelmed, and toes curling. it’s happening so quickly, quick enough that you don’t register that you’re cumming. waves of pleasure crash over you unendingly, and you’re unable to figure out why. every drag of blood george takes ruins any chance you have to think. the pleasure is so catastrophic that you don’t even register when george releases the bite.

the vampire can only stare up at you in awe as your mouth parts, drool beginning to leak from the corner of your lips, your eyes slamming shut, and face scrunching from the force of the orgasm he ripped out of you. george soothes the bite closed with careful sweeps of his tongue, allowing you all the time you need to come back to him. he softly sucks a few more marks into the meat of your thigh before he fights himself away from cradle of your legs, brushing a kiss on your cunt over your panties.

the vampire slides his way onto the couch next to you, pulling you into his arms to allow you to shake through the aftershocks in his grasp. he presses kisses to your forehead, while he murmurs praises freely. while his mouth is running in one direction, his thoughts take a completely different turn.

he’s ruined you for any other person. he’s trained you to orgasm with a simple bite of his fangs. your body has correlated the painful spread of his venom with pleasure. george has tied you to him for the rest of your life. this is a huge fucking problem. his mind starts racing; if that’s the case he either needs to work that out of you, or he can never feed from you in situations like this again. you’ll be useless for the rest of the day, your brain has turned into jello. he needs to make sure that he manages his blood supply properly in the future, so he doesn’t have to drink from you where the media can discover how gone you are.

george has no idea how he would go about un-training your…pleasurable…response to his bite. on second thought, george doesn’t want to change your newfound reflex. if anything, it’s like an equal exchange. the vampire satiates his thirst, and you satiate your thirst. george coos at you adoringly when he hears the near inaudible moans your breathing into his neck—yeah, he thinks you’ll agree with him when you’re aware enough to do so.

he finds himself tracing the fresh bite mark with a thumb, groaning when your hips grind against him in return. he fumbles his phone out of his pocket to tell toto he needs at least another twenty minutes.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld@buendiabebeta@butterfly-lover@lana-d3l-rey@dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj@miahgonzalez16@jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic@sweetpiccolo-blog@my-ylenia @zaynzierulez@reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane @inloveallthetime

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minustwofingers · 1 year

Text

exoplanet p. 4.5

second half of exoplanet part 4!

pairing: ellie williams x reader

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: PLEASE READ! mentions of nsfw content (read at your own risk), violence, explicit language. also a lot of angst. ellie is still kind of a dick but not quite as much.

a/n: haha. isn’t it sooo funny how i said this would come out almost 12 hours later and then i posted it? i need to hit the hay early asf today if im to be frank w you guys so here it is now. i want to thank you all for the sweet and kind messages and comments i’ve been getting—they’ve been fuel for my writing!! also, i’ve got a better idea of how i want to end it now, so i’ve got a pretty good outline for what’s going to happen. expect around 3 more parts (one of which may or may not be an epilogue from ellie’s pov). as always thanks for reading!

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4.0 (first half of this part)

playlist inspired by exoplanet!!

wc: 6.5k

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower

enjoy x

Dina’s sudden reappearance in your life was turning into one of the best things you had going on. When you were done with work, instead of loitering about Joel’s home and hoping to run into Ellie, you’d knock on Dina’s front door and spend your afternoons gossiping and trading stories.

She never asked so explicitly about Ellie again, but you could tell that occasionally she wanted to.

“Guess whose birthday it is this weekend?” asked Dina one day in late April. The Wyoming sun was hung high in the sky, and the weather was steadily becoming warmer. The temperature was stuck at a breezy 60, and a part of you wondered just how hot it would get over the summer.

Terranova rarely ever got over 70 degrees. Would it be hotter than that? Would you even be here to see it?

“Yours?” you guessed casually, pushing away the ever-present question of how long you’d really be in Jackson.

Dina snorted. “No. Not quite. You just missed mine, actually. I’m a December baby.”

“Jesse?”

“No.”

“Joel?”

“Nope.” Her mouth popped on the p.

Your heart thudded. “Uh—Ellie?”

Her face split into a wide grin. “Yes! It’s her 20th. Isn’t that crazy? She’s ancient.”

“Wow!” you said, coaxing faux enthusiasm into your voice.

You and her had kept seeing each other at night, long after Joel had turned in. It always proceeded like clockwork—she’d come knock at your door, you’d fall into her bed, and then you’d leave.

You’d thankfully avoided any of the embarrassing stuff that you’d done the second night—no more unnecessary sensual face touching and whispers of her being a good person. You wanted to, though. There was so much that you ached to tell her, so many words that threatened to spill from your lips that you just barely managed to keep at bay.

The worst part was the way that nothing had really changed between you two beyond what transpired every few evenings in her room. Each morning, you’d wake up knowing that you were in for another day of pretending like she didn’t know what it sounded like when you whined and begged and told her where to touch you. Like you didn’t know how her mouth tasted.

“I want to get her a present,” Dina was saying. “I do something for her every year, but I want this birthday to be a little different—given that she’s made it two decades and all, you know.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you.”

Dina’s eyes sparkled. “I know! Do you want to help? If you do, I’ll tell her it’s from you, too.”

“Actually,” you said, wheels in your head turning, “That would be amazing. I have no idea what I’d get her otherwise.”

“Great.” Dina leaned back, nabbing her backpack from the ground and fishing through it until she produced a map. She unfolded it and began gesturing over the marks. “I found an abandoned bookstore in this area outside of the wall.” She tapped on a dot that she’d made, situated a fair ways away from the wall and on the opposite side of the town as the dam.

“So we’re going shopping?”

Dina laughed. “Yeah. 5 finger discount, too. The only problem is that we might need to kill some baddies to qualify, but once we clear our way, it’s home free.”

“Right,” you said, fear creeping into your bones at the thought of having to fight off the infected. You’d only been on a few patrols since you’d been shot, and each had been totally unnoteworthy. You’d yet to actually shoot your gun at anything. “You—you do know that I’m not actually that good of a patrol partner, right?”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Dina, waving her hand dismissively. “I can take care of us. Plus, we haven’t seen infected in this area for a while. This is a pretty remote area—tough to reach unless you know what you’re looking for.”

“So, when are we going?”

A glimmer appeared in her eye. “Now?”

“Where are you going?”

Ellie stood, her arms crossed as she leaned against the opposite wall. You were grabbing your patrol things, slinging your backpack over your shoulders and pulling on the gray sweatshirt she’d given you.

“Out with Dina,” you said, slightly breathless from moving so quickly. You hadn’t been expecting Ellie to be home—normally she was keeping herself busy picking up extra patrol shifts and helping Joel. It had been an unwelcome surprise to run into her, sour faced and serious while you were trying to get ready.

“Out where?”

You shrugged, trying your best to look nonchalant. “Dina said she wanted to show me something.”

She was silent as you finished lacing up your shoes, but you could see her watching you from the corner of your eyes.

“I’ll be back in time for tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you offered snidely, hardly realizing what you’d said until it had left your lips. It had been a low blow. It had been nasty. You weren’t sure why you’d said it.

“That’s not—” She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” You stood up, feeling deflated. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

Ellie sent you a tight smile. “It’s fine.”

You walked back to Dina’s feeling heavy. That was how most of your interactions with Ellie seemed to go nowadays—awkward, stiff, and remarkably unfriendly. You weren’t sure what changed. And she was still fucking you, which didn’t make much sense.

Sometimes it felt like she was distancing herself on purpose. But that had to be wrong, because why would she do that? You obviously liked her. She wasn’t the one at risk of being hurt.

You and Dina took off by foot as the sun began to set, well-armed with both weapons and navigational equipment. Well—Dina was, at least. All you had was the small gun Ellie had given you. Dina was doing all of the heavy lifting.

The forest was quiet, interrupted only occasionally by songbirds and the sound of wind rustling through the leaves. Spring had hit Jackson suddenly, the underbrush exploding in volume and flowers blooming everywhere.

As you two walked through the woods, chattering mindlessly and generally enjoying each other’s company, you made a mental reminder to return to the forest to pick up a makeshift bouquet of flowers. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to swoon over things like that, but even the most unromantic people could recognize the gesture of flowers. You were sure she’d at least put them in a vase.

Eventually the path Dina was leading you on opened up to a heavily overgrown street, a small decrepit strip mall hidden away in the shrubbery.

“Here!” said Dina cheerily. She jogged forward, scrubbing the moss off of the door to show a book icon on the filthy glass.

“And you said that there’s no infected here?” you asked, your fingers wrapped nervously around your gun.

“Of course I did,” said Dina. “Do you think I’d take you somewhere that was infested?”

The glass shattered as a body came crashing through the door, thrashing and clicking in a mass of bloody limbs as it took Dina to the ground.

Your finger squeezed the trigger before you could think, sending a spray of gore into the air as Dina forced the thing off of her and stood, panting.

There wasn’t even a chance to breathe. A piercing shriek cut through the air before three more followed the first, not paying any mind to the jagged edges of the broken door that grabbed at their mutilated skin.

“Fuck!” Dina’s knife went swinging through the air, slicing and jabbing at the creatures in front of you. They fell in quick succession, but there was more rustling and screaming from inside. Far too much rustling. “Run!”

She didn’t have to tell you twice. Despite the fact that you’d never been a track star in school, you bolted quicker than you’d even known possible. Your backpack banged against your back as you sprinted down the road, ducking into the brush and making a break for it with Dina right on your tail.

The walk there had taken close to 30 minutes. Your sprint cut that in over half. You and Dina ran in stride, with her lagging behind to send off a few shots to ground the runners that were quick enough to keep up. The clearing you appeared in all the way back in the winter flashed by you in a second, and within another few moments, you were both resting against the wall, chests heaving as you both picked off the stragglers that had come out of the forest to investigate.

By the time the last gunshot rang out and the final infected slumped to the ground, you were shaking uncontrollably, your gun vibrating in your hand.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” said Dina, equally breathless though significantly more composed as you two walked through the entrance, getting concerned looks from the people who were manning the gate. “I’ve never seen so many in that store before. I don’t understand. It was clear the last time I went.”

Before you could respond, someone stepped into your eye line.

“What the fuck did you do,” seethed Ellie. Her eyes were wild, her lip curled in a manner so derisive you began to wonder if you’d ever actually seen her angry before this.

“Chill, Ellie,” said Dina. “Y/N and I were just going to try and pick something up for your birthday. There were…a few more than what I was expecting. But it’s fine. We handled them. She did great.”

Ellie looked at you then, and you could feel her taking you in. Her eyes rested with accusation at the way that your hands were trembling. “You’re so fucking stupid, Dina. You knew that she’s never done this before. What the fuck is wrong with you, taking her out like that?”

“It was clear the last time I was there!” Dina spoke with her hands, waving them through the air in emphasis.“There wasn’t supposed to be any. I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t purposefully try to get us killed.”

Ellie sent her another scathing look before turning her attention to you. “And don’t even get me started with you.”

You blinked. “What?”

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” she snapped.

Dina sent you a wink and disappeared down the street in the direction of her house.

“I was thinking of your birthday, actually,” you said delicately. “We were going to get you something from the bookstore.”

“That is not an excuse to go get yourself killed!”

You held up your hands in mock surrender, which looked really stupid considering how hard you were still trembling. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the original plan. Can we not do this right now? I’m still trying to, uh, process what happened.”

As if to punctuate your point, the next step you took nearly sent you to the ground, your knees wobbling.

Ellie’s hands were at your sides in an instant, solid and steadying against you as you regained your balance.

“Sorry,” you said again, lower this time.

“How many?” Ellie asked. Her voice was softer now, almost resigned. She hadn’t let go yet.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “After the first three or four, I lost count. They just kept—” You winced at the memory of the wet sound that they made hitting the ground. “They just kept coming.”

“You did them a favor,” said Ellie, stepping back and to your side as you began to walk forward. Her hand stayed posed on your forearm. “It gets easier.”

“I don’t know if I want it to get easier,” you confessed.

“Well, how about you start by never doing something that fucking stupid again.” Her words lacked any venom. “Don’t you ever go out without me again, okay? Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?”

You gave your trembling hands a look. “I can take a guess.”

Ellie walked you back to Joel’s house, helping you out of your jacket and unsubtly checking your skin for bites. Or at least that’s what she said she was doing. She couldn’t seem to stop touching you.

You headed back up to your room to get changed as Ellie shut the front door and was off to finish her work with Tommy. As you leisurely made your way down the hallway, you noticed that something was off—the hallway closet was slightly ajar.

The memories of your first night there came floating back to you, images of Ellie shutting the door before you could see inside emerging to the forefront.

It wouldn’t hurt to look, would it? It was probably nothing.

Your hand wrapped tentatively around the handle, pulling the door open so slowly that the old, rusty hinge fell silent.

It wasn’t what you were expecting. It wasn’t what you were expecting at all.

It wasn’t really a closet—there were a few shelves, but no hangers. In their place, there were stacks of textbooks with old, dated covers of the stars, planets, and physics. The back wall was plastered with drawings of constellations and calculations in Ellie’s messy scrawl, reminiscent of the leftover scrap paper from when you sat your physics exams and did your problem sets.

The memory of Ellie staring at your textbook re-emerged to hit you with full force. No wonder she was interested in it. THIS is what she was going to say that she wanted to study when you’d asked her.

A slow smile crept onto your face as you thought about her upcoming birthday.

You knew what you were getting her now.

Preparing for Ellie’s surprise party was a full day’s worth of work. You and Dina had convinced Maria to give Ellie enough things to do that she’d stay out of the house for the majority of the afternoon. You felt kind of guilty that Ellie was being put to work on her birthday of all days, but Dina just shook her head.

“It’s Ellie,” she said. “She lives to act all macho and patrol and shit. This is probably an extra present to her.”

You two had located some flour, sugar, eggs, and butter and were hard at work baking a cake. It was tough going without a real recipe, but you’d grown up with a mother who loved baking, so you tried to do it from memory.

The result was a rather lopsided looking monstrosity that you and Dina had attempted to salvage through the liberal application of the thin icing you’d managed to whip up using milk and powdered sugar. It didn’t work, and you two didn’t wait long enough for the cake to cool before frosting it, so it melted in puddles and made the cake soggy.

“Fantastic work,” said Dina, wiping her hands on her front as you two surveyed the final product. “Really incredible, Y/N. You should really consider a career change.”

“Shut up,” you said, snorting. “Ellie’s gonna hate this.”

“She’s going to think it’s hilarious,” Dina corrected. “I’m sure it can’t taste too bad, right?”

You shivered. “Don’t say that.”

The decorations and gathering of presents were thankfully an easier challenge, and before you knew it Joel’s living room was fixed up to look obnoxious as possible, with a tacky “HAPP BIRTHDAE ELLIE” strung up in blood red reflective plastic (you two couldn’t find any Ys) above the fireplace. “Happy 5th Birthday!” balloons filled the ceiling, their gaudy purple color clashing horrifically with the red of the lettering.

“This is just awful, Dina,” you said. “Ellie’s never going to speak to us again.”

“You need to chill,” Dina responded. “She might act grumpy all of the time, but I know her, and I know she’ll secretly like this.”

7 rolled around quickly, and with it came the guests.

First was the unsurprising Jesse, grinning and carrying a satchel that had a makeshift card attached to the top labeled “Ellie”.

Next came Astrid, Bonnie, and Greg—all of the patrolmen that were roughly around your age. You hadn’t spent all that much time with them, but they’d always been fun.

Last came a girl you’d never seen before.

“Hi!” she said, extending a hand and looking at you through a fringe of choppy black hair.

“Hi!” you said, taking her hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “I’m Cat.”

“I can’t believe you two haven’t met before,” said Dina, swooping in to stand beside you. There was something written on her face—something that looked kind of like worry.

“I can’t either!” you said good-naturedly. “How do you know Ellie?”

Dina cringed.

Cat just smiled wider. “Oh. Ellie and I go way back.”

“Cat, why don’t you go help me in the kitchen? I need to finish plating some stuff,” said Dina.

“Sure!” Cat sent you one more winning smile, following Dina with a bounce in her step.

Something felt deeply off about that interaction, but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. You’d never seen Dina so eager to get you away from someone. Maybe it’d just been a coincidence?

You didn’t get a chance to dwell on it further, because Ellie was opening the door.

“Surprise!” Everyone in the living room yelled upon seeing her.

Ellie blanched, her eyes landing on you for a moment before she cast her gaze to the rest of the room. “What’s this?”

“Your birthday party,” said Dina, appearing from the kitchen with a plate of crackers and other appetizers, Cat in tow. “You didn’t think we were just going to let you turn 20 without embarrassing you just a little bit?”

“Those are the most hideous balloons I’ve ever seen,” said Ellie, crossing her arms.

“Thanks,” you said, beaming. “I picked them out myself.”

Much to your surprise, her lips lifted until she was smiling back. “You’re such a loser.”

“Okay!” said Dina, clearing her throat and stepping in between you two. “You two can flirt later. I’ve been slaving away in the kitchen for an entire day. Let’s eat.”

You shut your mouth, blushing uncontrollably as your eyes lifted. Ellie’s cheeks looked uncharacteristically pink and her eyes were fixed on your shoes.

Dinner went by quickly, with everyone trading odd stories about patrolling and their life before Jackson. You learned that Dina had actually been born in New Mexico and that Astrid was from Oregon. You heard all about how Jesse and Greg came across an old mall a few miles out of Jackson that was so full of infected that they could hear them scratching at the doors and clicking even before they were within eyesight of the building. You told some stories about your life in Terranova, about studying and your family.

“What the fuck is this?” asked Ellie once Dina had reappeared, carrying your sorry excuse of a birthday cake. Time had not treated it well. The first layer was almost entirely slid off, and the cake looked damp from the melted icing.

“It’s your birthday cake,” you said. “We, uh, tried. I don’t have a cake recipe memorized, and it was harder than I expected.”

The candles Dina attempted to stick into the cake kept falling out, the structural integrity so weakened from the melted frosting that chunks were coming off.

“Let’s just pretend that there’s 20 candles,” said Dina finally once the top layer of the cake finally split in half.

“Right,” said Ellie, snorting.

Dina led a very enthusiastic rendition of the Happy Birthday song that ended in cheers and hollers as Ellie dramatically lowered her head to the cake and pretended to blow the “candles” out.

No one touched the cake, but you couldn’t blame them.

Next came presents. Jesse went first, giving Ellie a satchel that held a bunch of cleaning equipment for her patrol rifles. Dina had found a t-shirt that said “Enemy of the State” in goofy comic sans lettering, and Ellie was unsuccessful in holding back her giggles at seeing it.

“Dina, this is so stupid,” she said, but there was no venom in her tone, just amusement.

It was your turn next, so you leaned across the table to place the small box in front of her.

“Please tell me you didn’t almost die getting this one,” said Ellie, giving you a suspicious look.

“Not at all,” you said. “I accidentally brought it from Terranova.”

Her nimble fingers untied the flimsy ribbon you’d haphazardly wrapped around the tiny brown box, lifting the lid off and peering inside.

“It’s a…rock?” Ellie frowned, pulling it out and holding it in her hand.

“You got her a rock for her birthday?” Cat asked you from her position to your right, her eyebrows raised.

“It’s not just a rock,” you said. “It’s a moon rock. Like, from the moon.”

Ellie froze, her eyes saucers as she stared at the rock balanced in her palm. “What?”

“I told you I studied astrophysics,” you said casually. “One of my professors let me borrow it because my research supervisor wanted to take a look at it, so it was in my bag. And I never had the chance to give it to him, obviously. So it’s yours now.”

“Holy fuck.” She turned in over, her fingers running across the surface. “This is…wow. Oh my god.”

“That’s so cool, dude,” Jesse said. “Like, insane. I didn’t even know that those were a thing.”

“There’s only a couple in the world,” you added. “And even fewer that are still reachable. The rest are…well, out here somewhere. Terranova only has a few from our own expeditions and the professors who managed to grab what they had when they moved.”

“This one’s from me,” said Cat, leaning forward and placing an envelope in front of Ellie. “It’s not as cool as a moon rock, but I thought you’d like it.”

Her fingers slid under the tongue of the envelope, ripping it open and pulling a piece of paper out.

“Good for one more free tattoo,” Ellie read out.

Cat sat back, looking awfully pleased with herself.

“Cat was the one who gave Ellie the one on her arm,” Dina explained to you.

A memory pricked at your consciousness, dating back to your first patrol with Ellie.

An ex had given her the tattoo on her arm.

The girl who had given her tattoo was Cat.

Cat was her ex.

That makes so much sense you realized with horror as you remembered how Cat had told you so confidently that she and Ellie went way back. Of course they did. They used to date.

“Where’d you go?” asked Dina, bumping your shoulder.

“Sorry,” you said, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Just, uh, tired.”

When you looked up, Ellie’s eyes were on you, her lips slightly quirked.

You looked away, instead focusing on the placemats that Dina had set out. Cat was so different from you—so peppy, so confident, so loud. No wonder Ellie didn’t want anything more than what you had now. Whatever Ellie had seen in Cat had nothing to do with you.

The night ended with you all sitting on the couches in the living room with Dina mixing drinks so strong that you were wondering if she was trying to kill you.

“Jesus Christ, Dina,” you said as you watched her pour. “What is that? 90 percent vodka?”

“I prefer to call it efficient,” Dina corrected.

It burned going down your throat and you fought back a cough as you placed your glass back on the coffee table. Ellie was right next to you, her thigh barely brushing against yours as you moved.

Cat was on the other side of the room, seated next to Jesse and Astrid. You were internally very proud that Ellie had chosen to sit next to you instead. Her arm rested on the back of the couch behind you, and even though it couldn’t have meant all that much, you couldn’t help but wonder if it at least meant something.

You were just halfway through your cup by the time you started to feel really and properly sloshed. Your voice sounded tinny in your ears, and from the way that Ellie was laughing at anything anyone said, you had a sneaking suspicion that she was somewhere around where you were.

It wasn’t long before everyone had excused themselves and wished Ellie a final happy birthday—it was getting late and quite a few had early shifts the next day.

Dina was the last to go, saying goodbye and sending you another look as she pointedly stared at the arm rested behind you.

For a few minutes, you and Ellie just sat in silence, hearing the fire crackle and the sound of her softly breathing.

Then she spoke.

“How did you know that I’d like the moon rock?”

“Oh.” You blushed. “Don’t be mad. You left the closet door open the other day—you know, the one with all your space textbooks and everything. It was an educated guess.”

“So nosy,” she tutted.

“But you do like the rock?”

She smiled. “Yes. Thank you.”

You reached forward and polished off the rest of the drink that Dina had made you, feeling the liquid fire slide down your throat and settle in your stomach.

When you turned back, you could see Ellie staring at you, her auburn hair glowing in the firelight, her pupils blown wide, and her eyes slightly unfocused. She’d had more than one of the drinks that Dina had made, and it was really showing.

“You’re so pretty.”

You froze. Out of all the things you expected her to say, that was nowhere on the list. The words had left Ellie’s lips like a compulsion, raw and honest.

She hadn’t stopped looking at you, but her eyes were wider, her cheeks red. She hadn’t meant to say it, you realized. Now she was embarrassed and flustered, and it was all because of you.

It was the boldness of being tipsy that made you move towards her, pulling your legs up until you were seated on your knees in front of her.

Ellie didn’t move apart from wetting her lips, her eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth.

When you kissed her, she melted into you. The arm that had been draped over the couch behind you dropped to your back, your own hands sliding into her hair and tightening at the back of her neck.

She gasped as she felt your nails scrape against her, and you took the opportunity to lick into her open mouth, tasting the vodka on her tongue as it slid against yours.

To your surprise, her hands didn’t creep up your shirt or dip below the waist of your pants. They stayed static, one glommed onto your back while the other clutched your jaw as she let you kiss her, over and over again.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was something about it that felt different than your usual nighttime meetups. It felt more—vulnerable, almost, that Ellie was kissing you just to kiss you, not with some other agenda.

The grandfather clock chimed, indicating that it was almost midnight. You pulled away from her for a second, panting as you caught your breath. A string of saliva suspended between your lips, snapping as you waved a hand through it and flushed.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

She just smiled.

“Is Joel going to be back soon?”

As if to punctuate your point, the front door banged open, the man in question pulling his jacket off and turning to see you both. You’d thankfully managed to get off her lap before he saw.

“Oh!” he said, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. “I wasn’t expecting you two to still be awake.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Ellie, scratching the back of her neck. “We’ve just been…talking.”

“Good party?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad. Tommy and Maria wish you a happy birthday, by the way. Though I’m sure you knew that.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Well,” said Joel, giving a sigh that only old men could recreate, “I’m off to bed. You two don’t stay up too late, huh? You’ve still got work tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” you two chorused.

Once Joel had disappeared into his room, you turned to look at her.

“That was close.”

“Yeah.” Ellie laughed nervously, picking at her cuticles. “Um—do you want to move somewhere else?”

Something deep in your chest ached. Sure, you’d be okay with spending another hour or so feeling her hands on you as she made you finish, but a part of you had really liked just touching her for the sake of touching her—kissing her just because you could.

“Sure,” you said. “Just give me a chance to change.”

When you knocked after switching into more comfortable clothes, the door swung open to reveal a significantly more nervous looking Ellie than you’d seen in a while.

“Hi,” you said shyly.

“Hi.”

You stepped into her, pressing a tentative kiss to the corner of her mouth. When she didn’t react, you pulled back.

“Is everything okay?”

“Do you want to stay over?” Ellie blurted out, her eyes wide and afraid.

You balked. “Uh, what?”

“You don’t have to,” she said, her eyes dropping to the ground. “I’m sorry. I know we’re not like that. I just thought that—maybe, I dunno, just this once—”

“Yes,” you interrupted. “Please. I’d really like that.”

“Right. Good. Okay.” She took a deep breath, then laced her fingers through yours to lead you to her bed.

When your mouth found hers again, it was just like on the couch—no intentionally rough or overtly sexual touches, just gentle brushes against your skin and the weight of fingers tangled in your hair as she pulled you further into her.

For the first time since you confessed, you didn’t sleep together. When you two finally tired out, you flopping down on the pillow first, Ellie’s head came to rest on the expanse of skin between your shoulder and your neck, your arms coming around her.

It was strange. For someone so deadly and tough, Ellie suddenly looked so small and fragile curled against you, the rise and fall of her chest synchronized with your breathing.

“I’m sorry Cat was invited,” Ellie said, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed into your neck.

“What do you mean?”

“I should have told you what her name was. That must’ve been a nasty surprise.”

Her foresight and understanding made your heart ache, deeply. How was it that she could say all these things but not want anything more with you?

“It was alright,” you said. There was no conviction in your tone. “I wouldn’t have expected you to tell me.”

Ellie was silent for a few beats. You knew she was thinking, though; you could feel the flutter of her lashes against you as she blinked.

“How long do you think it’ll take for you to forget me?”

You paused. “What? What do you mean?”

Ellie shifted against you, one of her arms draped over your chest. “I mean, when you go back.”

“Ellie,” you chided, bringing your hand up so you could run your fingers through her hair. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if I’d ever just leave you behind. If I go back there, I’m finding some way to bring you with me. So, no. That’s not even a valid question. I’m never forgetting you.”

In truth, you hadn’t even begun to consider what you’d do if—when—you were found. You’d been so focused on trying to fit into your new life here that your past had largely just faded into the back, shrinking in the horizon. What you did know, at least, was that even in some dystopian future without Ellie, she’d never be off of your mind.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I’m not,” you replied, tapping her shoulder. “I mean it. You’re stuck with me.”

Her diaphragm vibrated as she let out a short laugh. “Oh, the horrors.”

She fell silent as you kept threading your fingers through her hair, letting your nails scrape against her scalp. The hand that wasn’t draped over your chest had crept up, her thumb rubbing back and forth as she traced the outline of your jaw.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I can be such a sad drunk sometimes. It’s pathetic.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed, your other hand lightly dancing up and down her back. “I think it’s sweet.”

She snorted. “You would.”

Then, after a few more seconds of silence: “You really weren’t jealous?”

“I never said that.”

“So she did make you jealous?”

You flicked her shoulder. “Fuck off. Of course she did. Happy?”

“Thrilled.”

A few moments later, she spoke up again.

“Can you promise me something?” Her voice was deceptively casual.

“Anything.” You’d give her anything she wanted.

“Promise me that you’ll take the first opportunity to go home,” she said softly. “Promise you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I’ll take the first opportunity to go home as long as I get to have you around, too.”

You couldn’t see it, but you knew she was rolling her eyes. “Not good enough.”

“You want me to leave that badly?” You weren’t sure if you should be hurt.

“Of course not,” she responded. “I just...I don’t expect you to wait around here for me. I don’t want you to. I want you to be safe.”

“I feel safe with you.”

“Will you just—fucking—say you’ll go?” Her voice sounded raw, tired.

“Fine,” you said. “I promise.”

Your words were empty. You couldn’t promise her that. She had to know that. But would it matter? If you never had to make that choice?

In retrospect, you weren’t sure when you drifted off. All you remembered was the warmth of Ellie gathered up in your arms, her measured breath blowing across your exposed neck as you felt the slow, marching rhythm of her heart.

When you awoke to the early morning sunbeams streaming in through the window and warming your face, Ellie was passed out cold on top of you. A few unruly strands of her auburn hair had ruffled upwards overnight, sticking to your cheek and threatening the seams of your lips.

You’d never been happier.

As you thought, running your hand gently up and down the length of her spine, Ellie’s breath hitched.

You froze, thinking you must have woken her.

Then she made a quiet snort. She took another deep breath in, whistling as it went. Her next exhale was louder and caught in her nose.

You did your best not to laugh enough to wake her.

Ellie snored, even though she wasn’t that loud. The part of you that was still intimidated by her was shrinking by the minute. If only you had known in the beginning that after a long day of bullying you she went back to her room to honk shoo the night away, you never would’ve let it bother you.

She jolted awake, blinking rapidly as she pulled away and looked up at you.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” she said groggily. “It’s—” She twisted in your arms, squinting at her desk. “It’s 6 in the fucking morning. Shut up.” With that, she flopped back down on top of you, laying one arm over your torso so she could shove it the space under the pillow beside your head.

“You shut up,” you heard yourself say.

Ellie smacked your shoulder, not even bothering to lift her head.

“You snore,” you said, quieter this time.

“I don’t.”

“You literally do. I was there when it happened.”

She was silent for a few moments. “Really?”

You pressed your lips to her forehead instead as you trembled from the laugh you were doing your best to rein in.

“Oh, god,” groaned Ellie. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“I thought it was cute.”

“You think everything I do is cute.”

“And what about it?”

You settled back in, wrapping your arms around Ellie as you tried to drift back off.

“Do you hear that?”

Her voice was whispered.

“Hear what?”

“That sound.”

You let go of her and sat up, your eyes unfocused as you tried your best to tune into whatever Ellie was talking about. Out of the corner of your vision you could see her staring at you with big, nervous eyes.

It took you a moment to notice it. No one could blame you, really. It was hardly a rarity to hear the sound of a plane when you grew up in Terranova.

“That’s a plane, Ellie,” you said, reaching out to cup her face. “It’s fine.”

“A plane?” She frowned, still blinking bleariness out of her eyes. “I’ve never heard one before. Joel told me that they stopped being used after the government officially fell.”

“That’s not true,” you corrected. “There’s some in—”

A puzzle piece clicked into place, and with it came a sense of underlying dread. But you shouldn’t be dreading it. It’s what you were hoping for after all, weren’t you? What you’d been praying for since you’d arrived?

“Let’s go outside and look,” you said, nudging her side. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” You were hoping it was nothing.

Ellie followed you, pulling a throw blanket from her bed and draping it around her shoulders like a cape. She looked so cute like that. You wanted to bite her. Not, like, in a weird blood kink way. Just in a…you didn’t know how to describe it. Better leave it there.

A lump formed in your throat.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe this had nothing to do with you.

The air was tepid and pleasant against your bare skin as you two quietly opened the front door and crept onto the porch. The town was quiet. No one was awake at this hour, not unless they were down by the stables or doing night watch.

There was a sliver of pink and orange hanging over the tops of the mountains, no doubt remnants of what had been a spectacular sunrise. There were still snowy caps on the highest peaks. You hadn’t known that mountains could stay so cold for so long until you’d come to Jackson.

The lump in your throat grew larger.

“Shit,” said Ellie, leaping down from the porch and onto the road. “Do you see this?”

The plane was no longer in sight, but the swirling papers that hadn’t been on the road the night before were left as evidence.

“They must’ve dropped them,” said Ellie excitedly, snatching one from the ground and bounding back up the steps so she was next to you. “What do you think this says?”

You smiled sadly. “Why don’t you read it?”

She unfolded the envelope, ripping open the top and dumping the contents out in her hand.

“Oh.”

It was a picture of you. It’d been taken months prior at your family’s Christmas party. You’d worn glittery silver eyeliner and curled your hair. The upper half of your body was in view, clad in a rich red fabric that landed right below your collarbones. A string of creamy white pearls were clasped around your neck, matching the teardrop pearls that hung delicately from your ears.

HAVE YOU SEEN HER?

There was no other text, but you did notice a divet at the top right corner in the shape of a small oval.

Terranovan security. Of course.

Wordlessly, you pressed your thumb into the mold, holding it there for a second as the parchment recorded your print.

Then a paragraph formed at the bottom, ink slowly leaking into the paper.

COME TO THE COORDINATES LISTED BELOW AT EXACTLY NOON, MAY 15TH. A LIFT WILL BE WAITING TO ESCORT YOU.

You’d been found.

final a/n: sorry not sorry this was the original cliffhanger that i was planning for part 4 all along. you guys are incredible for still sticking around and reading even though this is getting lengthy as hell. anyway i hope you guys enjoyed this sort of different side of ellie before we reach the final act. the plot is abt to reach its peak and i’m hellaaa excited to share it with you. okok let me know what you think! it might take me around the same time it took me to finish part 4 to get part 5 out considering how sick i am/how much i have on my plate, but i promise it’s coming :))

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams self insert #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x oc

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changbunnies · 4 months

Text

Crave, Part 2 (18+)

♡ Pairing: Romantic Demon!Hyunjin x Human Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: supernatural au, demon au, age gap relationship typical in monster fucker fics, coworkers to lovers and love triangle vibes :')

♡ Word Count: 6.5k

♡ Summary: "The more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and pain." - Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy. In which Hyunjin, a demon from the nine circles of hell, finds himself impossibly infatuated with the very human he once set upon himself to destroy.

♡ Warnings: this is a part 2! read part 1 here, more immoral behavior and thoughts + ideas from hyunjin ofc, supernatural abilities, themes of possesiveness and jealousy, more talks of sinful acts / feelings from the perspective of a demon, reader's age is not specified but it is implied to be at least mid twenties.

♡ Notes: sorry ya'll it took longer for this to come out than i intended, i wasn't feeling well so i was resting ;v; and tbh i still don't feel well but i really wanted to keep writing so i powered thru to get this done!! this part is story focused but dw, explicit smut is coming next <3 the focus here is building up their relationship so that the smut feels like a natural development and they aren't just instantly in love lol i hope you enjoy it!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

How do you make a human fall in love? A question that is perhaps simple in theory, but Hyunjin hasn't wooed a human in centuries, and much has changed since he last blended in with society. In the modern age of technology, sin is at the most rampant it's ever been. The common man can access all manner of sin from the palm of his hand with a single device, and it has made the act of integrating into human society an unnecessary practice for demons.

There's a plethora of human sin to feed from at any given moment, and obsolete is the need for a demon to blend in with the humans that walk the earth, no longer required to be a snake in the community garden just waiting for their moment to strike and consume. Though an outdated method to obtain their wants, integration with humans can still be done, if only the demon in question wishes to do so- and as Hyunjin has come to realize, he does if he wants to win over the object of his desire.

Despite how long it's been since Hyunjin walked among them, he wasn't ignorant of modern human culture; he still had to be well-informed if he wanted to be effective and efficient in sowing the seeds of sin in feeble minds, after all- his work in the second circle required such knowledge, and it was also a benefit when it came to deciding which soul he would drink from to sustain himself.

He knew perfectly well how to use most modern technology, knew how to dress in a manner that was unique to his own tastes but suited the trends of the era, and whatever "pop culture" knowledge he lacked, as it was called by humans, he could blame it on things such as "preferring to stay off social media," or "not watching much tv or playing much games," and most would take it as a fair, reasonable enough excuse, even if the person asking questions of him could not relate to his answer.

In the last century especially, most of Hyunjin's public outings were limited to a few hours at most, spending that entire time scoping out who'd sustain his cravings the most. Nightclubs in particular were an easy place for Hyunjin to get a quick fix of the lust he needed, sustaining him well enough when his preferred love-drenched lust was still being built to its peak.

Despite all his experience in human matters, there was something that posed a problem for him initially. Since moving into your lavish suite, you worked from home- a luxury Hyunjin assumes you have from a high ranking position within whatever company you work for (especially if this is the kind of place you can afford to live in on a single salary.) But if you only ever left the house long enough to run errands, how was he supposed to meet you organically? And further still, how does he meet you in such a way that makes contact with you consistent, that makes you want to talk with him and be in his presence?

He could, theoretically, stage a meeting, pretend to be a neighbor entering the building at the same time or "accidentally" bump into you while shopping for something he has absolutely no use for, only to then charm you the moment your eyes lock with his. The problem with that approach is that charming you defeats the purpose of what he wants; for you to have genuine, real love for him, and only him. And asking you out after meeting you just once, in a situation where you have no reason to connect with him further, could be uncomfortable or off-putting in the eyes of women. What woman likes to be hit on by a stranger while she's grocery shopping?

Hyunjin's human form is attractive, sure, but looks can only carry him so far when it comes to making a woman fall for him. His appearance is useful for one night stands, but he needs to show you more substance than that if he wants you to desire him beyond the physical- and he was sure based on his observations of your character that you weren't vain or superficial enough to fall for him based on looks alone.

Thankfully, he didn't have to ponder on these questions for much longer, because only a few short days after you finished all your unpacking and decorated your apartment to your liking, you returned to work. He could tell easily enough what your destination was when your routine suddenly deviated; for the first time since moving in, you had turned on a repeating alarm for 6 A.M, and your choice of business casual clothing and subtle, office appropriate makeup told him all he needed to know.

Hyunjin followed you there, naturally; presence hidden, lingering in the shadows with the intent to best establish how to infiltrate your work environment. As he expected, you held a high ranking position inside a corporate office- head of human resources for one of the many subsidiaries of some conglomerate Hyunjin had never heard of, as typically there is no need or reason for him to be well versed in human's business dealings.

Becoming someone you work with directly would be the best route, he was sure. Whether on equal ground or as someone answering to you on a team, it was the option that gave him the most opportunity to create a connection with you, and maybe be the start of one of those sappy office romances that humans seem to enjoy in their media.

It was fine if there were no employment openings- it'd be simple for Hyunjin to create one by exerting his influence over a human's mind. He'd pick out whomever you liked the least, someone who bothered you either overtly or simply by being an inefficient worker, and he'd take their place. He could plant the idea of a career change, a desire to move across the country, or simply get them fired should the gentler, subtle approach be deemed too time consuming for Hyunjin's taste.

Of course, Hyunjin knew jack fucking shit about how your job truly works or what would be required of him if he was on your team, but that was fine too- it would be easy for him to fake his performance when necessary, and charm any who questioned his work abilities. He wouldn't enjoy lying to you directly if there was ever a need for it but, well.. The ends justify the means, don't they? And while he wouldn't charm you for love, certainly it wouldn't hurt to do so to make him appear a better worker than what he would be in reality, right?

No matter what his hypocritical justifications were, he’d do anything necessary to make you his, even if it meant having to lie at times. It was a foreign feeling, being conflicted about lying when typically lying came second nature to a demon, but he supposed his infatuation for you is what makes it feel different. Is that why truth was considered a godly virtue? It was the first time in his life that just the thought of lying, before it could even be an act done in the first place, felt.. wrong.

Maybe because on some subconscious level he recognized that love woven from lies isn’t true, no matter how much he’d wish it to be. Even if you fell sincerely in love with him, would it still satisfy him to have gotten there based on tricks and lies? When he determined that the answer to that question was a firm “no,” he vowed he would do his best to keep lies far from his lips when it came to you, even if that made his goal more difficult to achieve. Strange, how this was easily the most human he’d ever felt.

In a way, it is almost natural to feel this way, to be met with internal conflict for the first time in ages; most demons are born directly from human sin, after all. What is he, if not the physical manifestation of a human who has fallen from perfection? More powerful than a mere human though he was, his proverbial soul still held an innate inclination towards sin, the struggle with temptation and decadence inherent to his very being, as hypocrisy and corruption went hand in hand with sin, hand in hand with the very human condition he would oft wrongfully deny he felt.

And that wasn’t the only human emotion that came to him when he watched you at work for the first time. Most of the morning was spent rather uneventfully, Hyunjin’s time dedicated entirely to scoping out the environment and determining where he’d best fit within your corporate world. He observed the people on your team, who was designated where and what their duties were, keeping track of what feelings and opinions you had for whom, looking out for who he would be able to effectively replace.

Without warning, he sensed it, felt it, tasted it- love, seeping out of your pores, heart suddenly alight and a smile that should be reserved for him lingering on your lips. Jealousy pricked Hyunjin’s skin before he could even fully process the scene before him, a deep fondness in your eyes as a man that Hyunjin could only assume was from another department approached you with a smile of his own.

Shit. It was expected that he would find out who you loved eventually, but he didn’t anticipate that it would be here, in the very environment he was setting up to be the stage for your romance with him. The man asked you questions and talked in ways you’d expect to hear between friends or coworkers- “how’d the move go?”, “are you settling in well?”, and “you should invite me over sometime!”

It was the last statement that made Hyunjin’s eye twitch with suppressed anger, not much liking the idea of the person you’re in love with being alone with you in your apartment. Every time you giggled at something he said or blushed when the man held your gaze, it nearly made him sick with envy. Fuck him, he didn’t deserve you, Hyunjin thought, I'm better than him in every conceivable way, that should be me.

This man didn’t love you the way you loved him; Hyunjin could tell, could feel the platonic affection that radiated from him. And instead of being happy about the implication that Hyunjin would have no rival for your affection when he pursued you in earnest, it almost made him more pissed off. This guy didn’t even know how fucking perfect you were, didn’t seem to notice the way your eyes sparkled with affection, how your heart raced when he hugged you, or the bashful smile that lingered when he invited you to share your lunch hour with him.

He’s a complete fucking idiot for not being head over hells for you- you, who’s only sin is lust, who is beautiful, intelligent, humble, and positively radiant in presence without even realizing just how much value she truly has. It’s okay, he has to remind himself, it’s a good thing his one-sided rival doesn’t share your sentiment; because when Hyunjin shows you how beautiful you are, treats you with the reverence you deserve, your heart would surely shift to beat for him instead. He’ll make sure of it.

You let out a sigh as you comb through the next resume that found its way to your desk, exhausted from the amount of interviews you've conducted today. This was probably your least favorite aspect of your job if you were being honest; being the head of human resources put you in charge of all recruiting efforts, scanning through countless applications to determine who was the best fit for the company, but you never enjoyed doing it.

It always makes you feel guilty to determine someone else's worth based on a flimsy piece of paper and interview first impressions, where nerves are almost always at their peak as the person sitting across from you makes their best conscious effort to impress you. It is also not a job you can delegate to someone else on your team, unfortunately; your place at the top of the HR department made all hiring decisions entirely up to your own discretion. And apart from the guilt of knowing you couldn't hire everyone that walked through your door, it was so tiring to go over the same questions multiple times a day with a myriad of strangers.

Hwang Hyunjin was the name of the last person you'd be interviewing today (much to your relief) and you hoped he'd be the person to wow you in the end, as you have lukewarm feelings to who you've met thus far. Despite the impressive credentials on most resumes you reviewed, none of the people you'd met seemed to be a good long term fit for the company; some of them would likely only be good as temps, needing to be let go unless they showed substantial improvement in the areas they were lacking in.

It was a terrible thing to judge someone based on whether or not they were able to calm their nerves or had enough charisma, but when working for corporate conglomerates you can't afford to be meek. It was okay to be shy and reserved in your personal life, many people in the office were, but for the sake of professionalism you're required to have the ability to put meek tendencies aside. If the interviewee couldn't speak with confidence, then you had reason to believe they'd crack under the daily pressures of speaking with representatives of other departments or when handling sensitive negotiations.

Unfortunately, you don't typically have the luxury of giving applicants the benefit of the doubt or the ability to give them the opportunity to change your first impression of them. You take a glance at the clock hanging above the door to your office, opposite of your desk; it's just a few short minutes until you meet your last applicant, and you pray he'll be the person you've been looking for. Despite how desperate you are to fill the hole in your team after Mina's extremely abrupt resignation and move out of the country, you still don't want to hire just to fill the gap she left- you want someone capable and confident on your team.

You take one last passing glance at the man's resume, making sure you're familiar with his education and work history, not wanting to be mistaken on any of the details listed. A short succession of knocks are heard on your door a few moments later, and you look up from the resume you're rereading to see Nayeon opening the door just enough for her head to come into view. "M-Ma'am, H-Hwang Hyunjin, uh- he's here for his interview," she speaks in a timid voice, face flushed the brightest pink you'd ever seen on her.

Your brows furrow ever so slightly in wonder and concern at her out of character demeanor; Nayeon is among the most confident and well spoken employees on your team, and you've never known her to stutter or appear so off kilter. "..Right, send him in," you say after a moment, wondering if her attitude shift is due to the stranger you'd be meeting shortly; if that is the case, you'll have to talk to her about it once the interview is over- you wouldn't want to hire someone the people on your team are uncomfortable around.

She nods and opens the door further, the silhouette of the taller man coming into view just slightly behind her. "Right in here," she mutters, stepping to the side and motioning for Hyunjin to enter your office. It becomes immediately apparent what the reason for Nayeon's abnormal behavior is; Hwang Hyunjin is easily one of the most beautiful men you've ever seen in your entire life.

Black hair that just begins to touch his shoulders tucked neatly behind his ears, a few strands left untouched to frame his face, accompanied by wide circle glasses that seem to further enhance his beauty. He's dressed well, his suit modern and sleek but not overly formal for the setting, his accessories tasteful and understated, as they should be in an office environment- just a simple, long chain necklace and small, almost dainty hoops on his pierced ears.

The reason that a man this gorgeous would even be applying to work here when he could easily make a fortune being a model is beyond you. You're quick to correct the initial surprise on your face, hoping that the man you'll be interviewing didn't notice how struck by his beauty you were when he stepped in. And how could you even know that he did notice you had a reaction to him- and not because of any overtly obvious expression of attraction, but because he could hear the beating of your heart with his inhuman ears, its steady rhythm taking a sudden, erratic jump the very moment he first stepped through the door.

Nayeon is quick to close the door behind Hyunjin once he has stepped fully inside your office, leaving you in privacy for what will likely be the most difficult interview you have ever conducted, and not for the reasons you would've otherwise expected. "Have a seat," you speak clearly, as if your heart wasn't stuttering just mere moments ago, motioning for Hyunjin to take one of the chairs sitting opposite of your desk. "Pleasure to meet you, Hyunjin," you say after he's taken a seat, politely holding out your hand to shake his.

"Likewise, ma'am. I'm grateful to be considered for this position," he responds with a smile so effortlessly charming that you have to once again remind yourself that this is a professional setting and you shouldn't be thinking about how handsome the potential new addition to your team is. If you were a worse woman with lesser morals, you'd hire him on appearance alone- his flawless skin, plush, soft, almost inviting lips, and the little mole that sits daintily under his left eye are all positively bewitching to look at.

You collect yourself after a brief mental scolding, deciding to get straight into the most pertinent questions you have once he's settled in his seat, opting to waste no time in getting straight to the point. While this approach does make the interview more tense for the applicant, you find it best to go about it this way to make sure they're truly ready for the sort of discussions that will be expected of them should they get hired. You don't expect perfection, but more accurately determination- if they can maintain a confident air about them under pressure, that's typically a good indicator to you they'll be a good fit for your team.

Equally, you don't mind if they stumble over their words a few times throughout the course of the interview as long as they show the ability to bounce back from any slip ups. Error is expected at some point, as we are all human- you just want to assess their ability to come back from a mistake when speaking, and to see if they are able to maintain their composure in situations that may not be the most ideal or comfortable.

The ease at which Hyunjin answers your questions has you convinced that he's perfect. He speaks confidently, coming across as self-assured and charismatic, not at all stuttering or faltering when you ask him to speak candidly with his own words. You appreciate a well rehearsed answer of course, but you like to ascertain whether or not the person you're considering for the job is able to maintain confidence when not using an internal script or reciting their memorized resume.

Some struggle to do so, losing confidence in themselves the moment they are expected to go off the cuff, while others find it to be a trick question of sorts, as if you're baiting them to say a flaw that would place them out of consideration for the position they're applying for. What you value most on your team is adaptability- it's okay to falter for a brief moment, as long as they are able to collect themselves quickly and continue where they left off. And Hyunjin's ability to do just that is utterly astounding.

He has an almost effortless sort of confidence and charisma about him; something unique and special that you don't often see, a state of being that isn't learned, but rather is innate to who he is. Even when he briefly pauses or lets out a small "hmm" as he thinks about his answer to your question, it never feels like he's struggling to find his answer- more accurately, it seems that he already knows what his answer is, and is just pondering on the best way to phrase it before speaking.

It seemed that even his unrehearsed, unfiltered answers were nearly perfect, his ability to speak leaving you almost in awe. Truly, in the year and a half it's been since you were promoted to head of human resources, you'd never conducted an interview where the person you were speaking to seemed this effortlessly natural and comfortable in what is otherwise a tense situation. Honestly, you'd be a fool not to hire him right on the spot- his ability speaks for itself, and you're confident that any weaknesses he has can be corrected quickly and easily with more experience in the work environment.

So you congratulate him, smiling as you once again hold out your hand and welcome him as part of your team. And Hyunjin smiles too as he takes your hand in his, knowing that this is just the start of what is his grand plan to make you his.

In the months it’s been since you first hired Hyunjin, he’s come to learn so much more about you than he did just lingering around in your apartment, and with that has come an even deeper appreciation and desire to have you. Your good nature, which he knew you had from little interactions at shops and cafes, was now able to be fully seen by him- from the way you cared about your team, treated them like equals despite the fact that you were their superior in rank, and how you encouraged and fostered true friendships between everyone on your team.

You held so much sincere care for everyone around you, and you lead with compassion and kindness at the forefront. If someone was sick, having an off day due to mental health, or simply felt the pressures of life weighing them down, you always met them with compassion, encouraged them to get better, and never made them feel bad about themselves for any small slip ups that occurred while they were struggling with something.

Of course, in this line of work it’s vital that they show up always ready to do their utmost best and show others the best versions of themselves, but you weren’t some militant manager that expected people to always be at 100%. It’s unrealistic, and hypocritical to expect perfection, so instead you always did your best to accommodate them when they were low, and that consideration resulted in your coworkers and employees having a great deal of respect for you, and caused them to always put in their best effort.

By extension, your care for your team resulted in equal care towards you, and it seemed they greatly missed you when you were absent due to your move. They had fine enough leadership while you were gone, sure, but it wasn’t the same without you- the one who made them feel comfortable, secure, and made them want to perform well at their jobs. What Hyunjin felt watching you was something akin to pride- and it was strange, as he had never felt pride for someone else before, usually not even for himself.

He just liked seeing you succeed, if he had to guess; he liked knowing the woman he desired was not only beautiful in body but also in soul, just as he suspected her to be when he first came to put aside his anger and truly know her for who she is. What a happy accident it was, that he happened to be gone when you finalized your move to suite 13; because otherwise how would he ever have known what it was like to care about someone other than himself? To understand what it is that makes a human God’s greatest creation?

He gets it now, he thinks- why God prioritized humanity, why he loves them despite how flawed and drenched with sin they are. And again, it occurs to Hyunjin how hypocritical he was before, and continues to be even now, how foolish it is for him, the very embodiment of sin, a being who is supposed to uphold depravity and ruin, to be infatuated with you, who is the very image of benevolence.

Hyunjin got to see so many new sides of you, sides that didn’t make themselves known within the 4 walls of your apartment, sides that made him fall for you more and more. A demon can’t experience love the way a human does, but he thinks this is the closest to love a creature like him will ever have. Obsession, longing, desire.. Isn’t that all a manifestation of love? Perhaps one does not need a true heart and soul to experience what love is, maybe all that one really requires is feeling.

Most sins are a feeling- lust, pride, envy; all are an emotion you feel strongly within your gut, a natural reaction that cannot be prevented from pricking your skin or making your stomach twist. It’s innate, woven into the DNA of every creature with higher understanding. With all that mind, who is to say a demon can’t love? Maybe it won’t be felt in the same way a human feels it, but if love is a feeling, and sins are a feeling, then what truly prevents him from knowing love?

As equally as he learned about you and himself, he also learned about the man you had developed feelings for- Yunho. According to Nayeon, who was apparently a wealth of information when it came to the subject, you met Yunho in college and have been friends with him since. You grew quite close in your time studying the same major, and as fate would have it, you both ended up working for the same conglomerate after college.

While you ended up here, promoted to head of the department when the opening became available, Yunho worked for a different subsidiary within the same building; so while you technically worked for different companies, you shared the same CEO, and had ample opportunity to meet and talk during the company lunch hour and maintain the friendship you had in college.

Well, he imagines you would’ve still been friends with Yunho regardless of where the two of you ended up in life after graduation, but still seeing him daily certainly didn’t help you get over the college crush you had on the man. And you had tried to move on- you’re not stupid, you know Yunho doesn’t feel the same way as you, but your relationships never worked out as you’d hoped, and you’d always be left still battling your unrequited love for your best friend.

Though you are always professional, it was obvious, at least to the other women in the office, that you had deep feelings for Yunho. They could always tell in the way your face changed when he was near, displaying a timid smile that only ever showed up for him, the flush on your face subtle but recognizable to those who knew you well.

And by extension, it became increasingly obvious to the rest of the office that Hyunjin was down bad for you, and hated seeing you with Yunho. His face too always changed when Yunho arrived, though in an entirely different way from you- Hyunjin would be positively seething with jealousy, always failing to mask the frown of disapproval when Yunho stepped into your office to talk and invite you out for lunch outside the building.

And Hyunjin, who was always a gentleman anyways, was even more so when it came to you- holding open doors for you when walking somewhere together, carrying stacks upon stacks of heavy paperwork so you wouldn’t have to do it, memorizing the way you liked your coffee so he could get it for you and you could focus instead on your work. The only time Hyunjin ever wasn’t smiling, it was when you were giving your affection to Yunho, and it was painfully obvious how bad he wanted you.

If Hyunjin was trying to keep his feelings a secret, well.. He failed to do so at every turn. Everyone in the office could tell how he felt, and while they would never admit it, most were just waiting for the day he’d ask you out, as it seemed to be more and more inevitable that he would. Some who had been your coworkers since long before you were even promoted and knew of your unrequited feelings, hoped that Hyunjin could be the person to finally give you the happiness you deserve.

Even you yourself began to suspect that Hyunjin liked you as more than a friend or coworker, because why else would he go so out of his way for you? Why else would his face change whenever he saw Yunho? You can still remember the way his smile dropped when Yunho stepped into the room when you were having lunch with your team, how Hyunjin subtly clenched his teeth and tightened his fists, how he’d practically glare at the man before replacing his expression with the most forced smile you’d ever seen him have for the sake of professionalism.

Were you being delusional? To say Hyunjin is fucking gorgeous is an understatement- he’s practically ethereal. And while you wanted to move on from your stupid school girl crush on Yunho that continued to grip you all these years later, wasn’t it too much to fantasize about Hyunjin being the person to finally make you happy? He could have anyone, and you couldn’t understand why he’d want you of all people when he could easily bag someone more impressive than you.

You did well for yourself, but you didn’t consider yourself particularly desirable.. Maybe years of unrequited love and failed relationships made your confidence tank more than you realized, at least when it came to love and romance. And while there were other couples in the office, you worried it’d be unprofessional of you to date someone who you are technically the boss of.. Shouldn’t you be more concerned about the power dynamic instead of worrying about whether or not you were desirable enough for Hyunjin to want you?

God, you really needed to get your priorities straight before you did something stupid; and certainly you were just reading too far into things. But still, while your feelings for Yunho didn’t go away, you still couldn’t deny that your heart would race whenever Hyunjin smiled at you, couldn’t ignore how goosebumps would erupt on your skin when his hand lingered on yours as he handed you a perfectly made cup of coffee, couldn’t help but linger on the the thought of what a perfect lover he must be.

As if sensing you were thinking of him, you hear a knock on your door, breaking you out of your thoughts and seeing Hyunjin crack open the door. “May I?” he asks, and you smile politely with a nod, motioning for him to enter your office. “Hey Hyunjin, what’s up? Need something?” you ask and he shakes his head, sitting on the chair in front of you. “Nothing work related, though I do want to ask you something,” he replies, and immediately your mind wanders to delusional territory again, though you quickly try to shut it down.

“What is it?” you ask, trying your best not to fill your brain with the thought of Hyunjin making a move on you. Be professional for God’s sake. “I was wondering,” he starts, looking at you with that charming smile that is so natural to him and you always have to stop yourself from folding over, “If you don’t have any prior obligations today, would you like to have lunch with me?”

Oh no. He’s adding fuel to your delusional fire. “Just us?” you ask, trying to mask your hope or the way your heart is picking up speed. You really want to be chill about the invite, but you really can’t help but hope the invitation means something more. He’s perfect, how could you not? You’re only human, after all. Isn’t it natural to want someone this fucking beautiful to want you?

“Yes, just us. You don’t have to consider it a date, but.. I would be happy if you did,” he smiles, head tilting to the side in an almost playful display, and your heart jolts. He’s not just playing with you, right? He wouldn’t, would he? But you have to ask, “You make it sound as if you want me to consider it a date. Are you saying you like me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, ma’am,” he replies without hesitation, confidence fully on display. It’s as if the possibility of you saying “no” has never crossed his mind. Well, you’d probably be confident too if you looked anything like him; you don’t imagine he’s been rejected often. And well, you certainly won’t be the person to hit him with his first rejection either; you’ll have to ask a third party to handle the necessary paperwork if things go well between you and Hyunjin, as the head of the department can’t approve and oversee her own consensual relationship agreement, but it’ll be worth it, you think.

After all, if someone this beautiful and seemingly perfect wants you, why deny yourself the opportunity? Even if it doesn’t work out, maybe he’ll be the person to finally help you get over your stupid crush on your best friend that’s been going nowhere for years. Apart from his beauty, he’s always been chivalrous and attentive towards you, a true gentleman in every sense of the word. And even if it's only for a brief time, you think he can make you feel happy, desired, truly cared for.

You’re about to tell him you’d love to, when your door unexpectedly clicks open, your eyes moving past Hyunjin to see Yunho standing in the doorway. Hyunjin immediately scowls, having half a mind to rip him apart once the day is over, though he does his best to temper his aggravation. Can’t let himself lose face in front of the one he loves after all; he’s not sure you’d still be up for a date with him if he displayed his jealous, possessive tendencies this early on (not that he did a very good job of hiding them to begin with.)

“Shit, sorry- am I interrupting a meeting?” Yunho asks, and Hyunjin rolls his eyes, turning his gaze back to you instead. “No, nothing like that,” you answer, shifting your gaze back to Hyunjin, who for the first time looks concerned that you’ll turn him down. It’s subtle, but his eyes are softer, nearly pleading, though he tries his best to not display the desperation that lies underneath- the desperation for you to affirm that you like him too, that you want to go on a date with him, that you want to give him a chance.

“Oh, good,” Yunho sighs in relief, knowing that sometimes your work bleeds over into the lunch hour. He glances at Hyunjin, a slight frown forming on his face. He’s never spoken to the guy, but Yunho would have to blind to not notice that Hyunjin hates him for seemingly no reason. “Well, uh- I’ll let you get back to whatever talk you’re having. I’ll see you for lunch when it's over?” Yunho asks, and you can see Hyunjin swallow, hands tensing as he waits for your reply.

Please don’t reject me, his body practically screams, and you almost can’t believe that the confident man that you know is looking this nervous over potential rejection because of you. “Thanks, but I’m actually having lunch with Hyunjin today. Maybe next time?” you answer, smiling at Hyunjin to reassure him that yes, you are going on a date. No, you won’t be picking Yunho over him, despite the history that lies there.

Relief instantly spreads through Hyunjin, and he returns your smile, his confidence returning as if it’d never left in the first place. “Oh,” Yunho blinks in surprise; that’s.. unexpected. You’ve never prioritized someone else over him before. Huh. He feels.. strange. Jealous..? No, that can’t be right. Why would he be jealous? Hyunjin stands, offering his hand to you, which you accept before you stand yourself.

“Are you ready, ma’am? I know this cafe you’ll just love, but we have to hurry if we wan’t to make it back before the hour is over,” Hyunjin smiles, turning away to face the door, and subsequently, an almost bewildered looking Yunho. You miss the way Hyunjin shoots your best friend a smug, almost triumphant smirk; a smirk that says I’ve won, she’s mine. And even as Yunho watches the pair of you walk towards the elevator, hears you tell Hyunjin he can call you by your name when it’s “just the two of us,” suddenly he feels incredibly stupid.

Even as he’s left standing there, watching the elevator doors close with just the two of you inside, he can feel his gut twist as Hyunjin shoots him one last smirk, one that affirms something Yunho is just now realizing- there was a reason Hyunjin hated him. All this time, Yunho was a rival for love, and he just lost the race without ever having actually participated.

He scoffs, laughing at himself in near disbelief. What an idiot he’s been, and what a moment to realize it. He knew you had a crush on him, but what did he expect? That you’ll always be there, just waiting for the day he’d finally miraculously return your feelings after all these years? Of course you’d move on eventually; and maybe Yunho didn’t want to admit he found your infatuation with him to be a comfortable ego boost, now hit with the epiphany that his newfound jealousy over the loss of your affection is ugly and twisted.

And truly, Hyunjin had him beat. Somehow, he knew that this was the end of your feelings for him. How ironic it is to lose due to his own complacency, his expectation that you’d always be there no matter what relationships you found yourselves in. How arrogant and selfish he’d been, assured that no matter whom he slept with or pursued, you’d be there just waiting for the day he’d finally ask you out. And now Hyunjin has you, and he’s certain he’ll never let you go.

#skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #skz smut #hyunjin smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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bonezone44 · 7 months

Text

Too Depraved 4 TV (ages 56+)

Joel x afab!Reader x Ezra x Tommy

Word Count: 2500

--I'm not doing my usual set-up for fics, LOL! This is F I L T H. It's "Daddy Joel", "Uncle Tommy" and "Uncle Ezra."

oral (m & f receiving), fingering, p-in-v, creampie

special thanks to : @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for the idea and @toxicanonymity for 'Uncle Tommy' and also @iamasaddie for sharing a Tommy photo this morning. We're all going to burn in hell together. 🙏😘

++++++++++++++

“Uncle Tommy and Uncle Ezra are downstairs watchin TV,” says Joel. “Why don’t you go join ‘em and I’ll meet you there in a minute, alright?” He stomps over to the fridge, thoroughly dismissing you.

The two men’s eyes light up as you make your way down into the basement. The room is small and cramped. The walls are wood panels and the floors are cold concrete. There’s a wall of boxes on one side of the room next to a computer desk. The computer is off and the monitor is black. You’ve seen Uncle Ezra use it the most, selling electronics on eBay and watching funny videos. Anytime Uncle Tommy was around, he was lounging on the couch, much like he is now, with a beer in his hand.

“Hey there, sugar,” greets Tommy as he puts his beer down on the coffee table in front of the TV. “How ya been?”

“Fine,” you say, shifting awkwardly. You look at the thick, plush couch, unsure where to sit. The recliner is open, but you know that’s Joel’s.

Ezra finishes his beer and tosses the can into the trash by the computer desk. It’s close enough to be difficult to miss. “You wanna come sit down, baby?” asks Ezra, patting the space between him and Tommy. “Uncle Tommy and I were just watchin the game.”

“O-okay,” you respond and follow suit. You can feel their hungry eyes watching you. Your skin burns. You keep your legs in close and your arms are crossed protectively over your stomach. You feel your shoulders up by your ears. There’s dampness between your thighs.

“Ain’t seen you in a while,” says Tommy as he shifts closer to you. “Joel been keepin you all to himself, huh?”

“I don’t know,” you answer.

“Yeah, that’s Joel for you.” Ezra chuckles, his eyes lingering on your body. “I find his possessiveness unnecessary, though Uncle Ezra understands why he would be wary to allow his pretty pet to wander without her leash.” His warm, calloused hand finds the bare skin of your thigh. His thumb rubs back and forth. “She is quite the prize, don’t you think?” he says. “Uncle Tommy?”

Tommy grins. “She’s somethin special,” he murmurs, his body shifting closer.

You feel crowded. The heat from their bodies, the smell of beer on their breath, ‘Uncle’ Ezra’s hand gently stroking your thigh. The ache in your cunt.

“Curious,” Ezra says as he scoots next to you, causing you to gasp for air as his body is now pressed along the entirety of your left side.

“What’s that?” says Tommy, whose eyes are locked onto your face, studying your every response and expression. His own hand finds your other leg, smoothing up and down your thigh, inching closer and closer to the billowing heat between your legs.

“Curious as to what or … who–” Ezra traced his nose along your temple. “–could have swayed Joel’s selfish nature.” He hums and it’s as if your entire body vibrates in harmony with his vocal chords. “He is not a man to acquiesce easily.”

“What? You think she asked for it this time?” Tommy eyes you curiously. His hand slides from your thigh, cupping your mound over your shorts. You feel his amusement as you tense and gasp with your eyes closed. “Wasn’t us just beggin for a taste?”

Ezra smiles. “Little pets get hungry, too, Uncle Tommy.” Ezra’s finger glides along the bottom of your chin. You open your eyes to see his, hazy and warm, looking back at you. “This one looks ravenous.”

“Only one way to know for sure,” says Tommy, biting his lower lip. He slips his hand under the waistband of your shorts and you tilt your hips forward instinctively, guiding his searching fingers to their imminent goal. You moan as two fingers graze your entrance before sliding between your folds. Tommy laughs. “Oh yeah,” he says, lightly toying with your clit. “She’s starving.”

“Is she now?” says Ezra. “Methinks Uncle Ezra wants a taste, as well.” His mouth finds your neck as his hand finds your breast. His teeth gnaw into your skin–his tongue laving. His fingers dig into your flesh. You feel his hard cock pressed against your side.

You gasp and moan, overwhelmed by the sensations. By their body heat blanketing your sides. The TV is on low and in the back of your mind, you can hear Joel stomping around upstairs. You don’t know how he’ll react when he finds out the two men have begun without him. You don’t know what to say. You couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to. And you really really don’t want to.

“Let’s get ‘er out of these clothes, Uncle Ez,” says Tommy.

“Don’t know why she bothers wearin anything anyway,” says Ezra.

The two men strip you like a doll. Ready and eager to play with you how they please.

Goosebumps rise on your skin briefly before they’re back on you. Ezra sucks on your nipples, toys with your breasts. Tommy’s hand stays between your legs. He slides a finger inside of you, slowly breaching your entrance and pushing it as deep in as he can. He wriggles it around a couple times then pulls it back out, spreading your slick around your lips. Your skin sticks to the pleather of the couch. You can’t bring yourself to check, but you’re certain there’s a wet spot beneath you, glistening in the bright light of the TV.

“Think he’ll let us fuck ‘er this time?” asks Tommy.

Ezra pulls back from your breast. His lips are plush and wet. He hums. “Let’s see what she wants.” His eyes find yours. “What do you think, baby? Hmm?” His eyebrows are high in his forehead. “You want Uncle Ezra and Uncle Tommy to fuck you? You want us to put our cocks in that tight little hole?”

Tommy laughs and plunges two fingers inside of you, stroking your walls, making you writhe and gasp. “I think she likes the idea.”

Ezra chuckles. “I think so, too,” he says. “I think she wants Uncle Ezra and Uncle Tommy to stuff her full and leave her hurtin.” He grins. “I wonder how long it would take for her muscles to recover from such a pleasurable incident.”

“Weeks, prob’ly,” Tommy groans, pressing his hardness into your side. “If we do it right.”

“How’s that sound, baby?” asks Ezra, his lips pressed against your cheek as his fingers pluck your nipples. “Want Uncle Ezra and Uncle Tommy to tear up your little pussy?”

“HEY!” A loud bellow stops everyone in their tracks.

Your eyes open wide to see Joel stomping down the staircase. He’s wearing the same jeans and denim button-up as earlier, but it looks like he’s combed his hair back and away from his face.

“What the hell is goin on?”

“Oh, come on, Joel,” moans Tommy, his fingers no longer curling inside of you. “What’d you expect?”

“I expected you to fuckin wait,” he snarls. “Two grown goddamn men can’t keep it together for five fuckin minutes.”

Ezra began. “If you would, please, Joel, give audience to our–”

“Don’t you fuckin start with me.” Joel points at Ezra. “I don’t have time for your fuckin diatribes.”

Ezra rolls his eyes with tight lips.

Joel doesn’t say anything else. He simply kneels in front of you and tugs your hips forward, tossing your legs over his shoulders. His mouth latches onto you. He tongues and sucks your pussy lips, flicking over your clit and diving into your entrance. His tongue is moving so fast and his fingers are bruising your skin.

You stare down at him with your eyelids barely open. Your mouth is open and moaning.

Joel slaps his brother on the leg and gestures at you.

Tommy sighs. “Oh, thank god,” he murmurs.

Out of the corner of your vision, you see Tommy stand up and unzip his jeans. He pulls his pants and underwear off completely before climbing back up on the couch, standing haphazardly on the cushions.

“Alright, sugar.” He says with a grin. “Open up for Uncle Tommy.”

You comply, not sure how you’re going to maintain your focus with Joel eating you out so voraciously.

Tommy slides the tip of his cock back and forth on your tongue, before tapping it a few times. You keep waiting for him to shove the whole thing in–you’re braced for it. Readying your throat. But instead he teases you, teases himself. Tommy holds your head in place and you flick the tip of your tongue onto whatever surface of his cock that he’ll give you.

Your mouth stays open and you can feel saliva spilling out the edges of your mouth. You’re getting hungry for it. Desperate for him to fill your mouth and throat. You try to push your head forward and suck it in already, but Tommy’s grip is tight.

He laughs. “What’d you say, Uncle Ez?” He taps your tongue with his cock. “Ravenous?”

Ezra chuckles, his hands groping your breasts while Joel is still between your legs. “Downright famished for some cock, isn’t she?”

“It would appear so,” says Tommy, mocking Ezra’s cadence.

You start panting, your body trembling. Heat is building up from between your legs and quickly. Joel’s tongue works against your clit with a wet clocking sound. He’s a silhouette in front of the bright light of the TV. Your orgasm hits you like a punch and you keen loudly–just in time for Tommy to finally fill your mouth.

“Kinda tickles,” says Tommy, laughing at you while you moan on the comedown.

Joel pulls his mouth away from you. “Hurry up and get whatcha can,” he says to the two men. “‘Cause once I start fuckin’ her, you’re not gettin anythin else.”

Ezra’s eyes go wide and he rushes to remove his pants. Tommy’s satisfied enough to glide his cock in and out of your sloppy mouth.

Ezra settles himself between your thighs. He holds his cock, thick as a can of Coca-Cola, against your entrance. He moves it around in tight circles to help stretch you out. “Uncle Ezra has been dreaming of this day, precious,” he says, licking his lips. “Dreaming of–” he thrusts in a little. “--sinking myself into this–” he thrusts in a little more. “--hot, wet hole.” He pushes himself in deeper and deeper and slowly more deeper until he’s in you, full-hilt. He looks up at Tommy. “So hot and wet,” he grins. “She’s tropical.”

Tommy and Ezra start laughing. You can’t see Joel, but you hear him huff.

Your body is exploding in pleasure from Ezra’s slow strokes against your stretched out walls. It didn’t take long for the hurt to give way to warm goodness. You’ve been so focused on sucking off Tommy that your jaw and neck are sore and aching. Your fingers are braced into the cushion beneath you as you try to maintain some kind of composure, lest you sink into the couch and away from Tommy’s salty member.

You get lost in the haze of Ezra’s thrusts and the taste of Tommy. Fire and sparks dance across your skin and you can feel a second orgasm building up inside of you. For a moment, your breasts feel cold and bare, but Ezra leans forward and begins sucking the skin of your neck. Ezra begins murmuring filth as his thrusts pick up in pace.

“Uncle Ezra takes good care of you, don’t he?”

“You like Uncle Ezra’s big cock?”

“You want some of Uncle Ezra’s hot seed?”

Your second orgasm hits hard and Ezra has to quickly pull out. He pants and moans as he jerks himself off and finishes on your stomach. He falls to the side of the couch with a dazed look in his eyes.

“My turn,” Tommy grins and pulls himself from your mouth.

But as he begins to situate himself between your legs, he’s interrupted.

“Too late,” says Joel.

Tommy curses.

Joel shrugs at his brother. “Y’all took too long.” He stands up from the recliner, still fully clothed but his pants are tented. He walks over to your limp body. “Come on,” he says and pulls you up, guiding you back over to where he was before.

You stand on shaky legs while Joel unzips his pants and pulls them down his thighs. He plops into the recliner and pulls you on top of him. For how thick Ezra is, Joel is thicker. You slide down his length with a whimper.

“That what you needed, baby?” He coos with soft eyes as he rolls his hips upward. “You needed Daddy Joel?” He asks with a nod.

You nod back, relishing in the feeling of Joel inside of you. Your hands cradle his face, thumbs scraping along his scruff. You lean in and kiss him, hot and heavy. He moans into your mouth. You glide your hips up and down, stroking his length with your wet cunt. His broad hands are your asscheeks, tugging and pulling your flesh apart as you slowly ride him. His mouth tastes so good, you wanna swallow him whole.

You hear Tommy jerking off behind you. He and Ezra are murmuring low to each other on the couch. You wonder if Ezra is jerking off, too. You like to think he is.

Joel pulls back and stares into your eyes. “Come on, baby. Bounce on Daddy Joel’s cock. Come on.” He punctuates with a smack on your ass. You pick up the pace. “Daddy Joel loves his baby’s sweet little pussy,” he groans and smacks your ass again. “Gonna fill that pussy up,” he grunts. He starts thrusting upwards into you, meeting your bouncing hips. “Gonna make a big ol’ mess o’ that tiny little pussy, baby.”

“Daddy Joel’s gonna fill you up–gonna fill you up,” he groans and his fingers dig bruises into your ass.

Your body is a blur of pleasure and movements and hot sparkling heat expanding and billowing out until it’s so so tight and then it SNAPS–your cunt clenching around Joel’s cock as he comes in thick, heavy spurts inside of you.

He groans, long and low as he continues to roll his hips. His come trickling out the edges of your used pussy as you sit in his lap. “Good girl,” he sighs and brings a hand to your breast to pinch and tease your nipple. “Good little pussy.”

You don’t hear the two other men behind you, so you assume they finished, too. You’re briefly disappointed you didn’t get to fully experience Uncle Tommy’s cock, but it was enough to taste it.

You curl into Joel’s chest as he wraps his arms around you and kisses your crown.

++++

Author's Note: NO ONE LOOK AT ME !!!!!

#joel miller x reader #ezra x reader #tommy miller x reader #uncle!ezra

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saerotonins · 10 months

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lap princess

ft. kujo jotaro x gn!reader (the usage of princess is only for the sake of the title)

content warnings: fluff, modern!au, 3taro w/ less trauma LOL, suggestive themes if you squint, reader likes to watch some kdramas, characters are aged up to 18+, not beta read

wc: 775

notes: am i projecting? yes maybe...

you always like hanging out with jotaro in his room.

sometimes you two watch movies as to pass time, read books together, or most of the time, just bask in with other's presence.

jotaro had invited you over for some company and you knew that meant that you were going to be lying away either on his floor, or his bed. you have no complaints because that just means you get to spend time with each other albeit in silence.

this isn't a problem the two of you would think about. jotaro is a natural listener. often choosing to open his ears to whatever hyper-fixation you decided to dwell on, current interests, or even shows that you were currently watching, sometimes even opting to share some of his thoughts or even humming as to let you know that he was engaged to whatever you are talking about.

caged around his arm, you watched some k-drama on your phone while jotaro reads on his pocketbook on his free hand. the warmth he provides felt comforting, for someone who acts so cold, together with his tough exterior, he's surprisingly a great alternative for a teddy bear. although you might argue that he is better.

shifting from his hold, you began to lie down on the free space on his bed when he stopped you.

"what are you doing?"

"i'm just going to lie down a bit while i watch."

just as you were about to let your head hit the pillow, you suddenly felt both of jotaro's hands on either side of your head. your mouth was ready to complete until you realized he moved your head somewhere.

his lap.

despite the bold move, you don't have it in you to tease him. like his arms, his lap feels so warm, so soft despite his muscly build.

jotaro went back onto reading his book when he felt you squirming, trying to find the most comfortable position to lie down while watching on your phone. his breath hitched, his legs were crossed and coincidentally, he placed your head near his—

"(y/n), quit moving" jotaro felt his face turn beet red, thank the gods your attention was on your phone or else you would've seen how flustered he was.

"hold on, i'm trying to be comfortable," you argued back.

he finally let go the breath that he didn't know he was holding back when he see you settled on his lap, holding your phone to your side.

the silence was comforting and relaxing. jotaro likes to spend his time with even if it's only this simple. so mundane, yet so fulfilling, he thinks.

some minutes later, he felt a soft thud on his bed, he looked down and saw your phone lying flat on his bed, with your eyes closed and quiet snores accompanied by the voices of the ongoing drama from your phone. a small smile evident on his lips as he pulled his comforter on your body, providing you more warmth, he then paused the show on your phone so you can sleep in peace without any disturbance.

"jotaro! y/n! i bought some sna-" holly's voice came to a halt as soon as she opens her son's door, revealing the adorable sight before her.

jotaro's free hand gently patting your head that is placed on his thighs while his other is holding the book he's currently reading. your soft snores along with the quiet whirl of his room's air conditioner enveloped the whole room.

sensing the open door of his room, he looks away from his book and sees his mom wearing a giddy smile and tray full with homemade snacks and drinks. a slight smile formed on his face as he puts his index finger over his lips, as if playfully silencing his mom. holly then pursed her lips, hiding a playful smile while tiptoeing through jotaro's room. she then carefully and quietly placed the tray over the kontatsu to avoid making unnecessary noises that might get you out of your sleep.

after making sure that all is well, holly tiptoed once again to exit jotaro's room, not forgetting to send a small wave to jotaro and your sleeping form before finally closing the door.

it's like times like these when jotaro felt the most safe and allow himself to be vulnerable. the normalcy and domesticity that you provided in his life serves as a surprise but certainly welcomed. he likes that he knows that you're always by his side, always eager to help him in ways that you can and offer him your company.

even if it's just you laying on his lap.

#julie's world #jotaro x reader #kujo jotaro x reader #jotaro fluff #jjba fluff #jojo's bizarre adventure fluff #jjba x you #jjba x reader #jotaro x you #jojo's bizarre adventure x you

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stxneflxwers · 1 year

Text

Delirium

⋯⁂ Summary: Sleepless nights are ever-consuming. So, what can they do to help you?

⋯⁂ a/n: Repost, get your repost over here! (This was originally posted on my other account (@rosenongrata), that's all lol)

⋯⁂ w.c: 275 (zhongli) — 287 (alhaitham) — 280 (tighnari) — 281 (cyno)

⋯⁂ characters: zhongli, alhaitham, tighnari, cyno.

⋯⁂ cw: sleep-deprived reader, fluff, cuddling, alhaitham being an ass (normal), gn reader.

Zhongli

⋯⁂ Zhongli is the quickest of them all to notice your sluggish movements and slow responses. Is also the quickest to pester you about if you've slept or not. Turns out you haven't—which he already knew—he simply wanted to..."double-check." (Really, he just wants to hear you admit it, he wants you to admit to needing help.)

⋯⁂ He offers many things, fresh tea included. He collects many different teas, sleepytime ones specially reserved for a certain sleepyhead that he frets over all too often. He loves you truly and deeply, but sometimes he swears you'll give him a heart attack one day (even if he's completely incapable of such a feat.) He wants you safe, sound, and content—is that too much to ask for?

⋯⁂ Is not against the idea of taking care of any chores around the house that you were planning on doing today. In fact, he prefers it this way. He wants you to relax as much as you can. Hell, even if you were fully rested, he would still happily do chores for you. He hardly minds these menial tasks—he finds them quite relaxing, actually. It brings him a strange sense of normalcy in his historic heart.

⋯⁂ If you still haven't fallen asleep at the end of the day, he'll rest beside you in bed and pet your head. His hands are soft and warm—not that you mind, of course. He hums old little tunes to you, and at this point, you can't force yourself to stay awake any longer. He can't help the smile that breaks out on his thin lips, and he certainly can't keep them from kissing your cheek, either.

Alhaitham

⋯⁂ Quick enough to notice how odd you're behaving, easily piecing the puzzle together that you haven't been sleeping well enough. But, being the way that Alhaitham is, he lets you try to push through the day as if nothing is wrong. He waits until you nearly collapse to catch you and scold you for pushing yourself far too hard. He does have a stupid smirk on his face the whole time he scolds you, though. It makes his scheme obvious, but he doesn't care.

⋯⁂ If you are not at home when you almost kiss the floor with your face, he'll carry you back to your abode. The first thing he does is tuck you into bed and commands you actually to sleep this time around. But when you whine and make grabby hands at him, the cold exterior around his heart cracks a little. He almost sighs at how cute you look right now, so he stays…for now.

⋯⁂ He'll grab you most things you ask for unless he deems it unnecessary to your journey into a dreamless land. Otherwise, he settles himself on the edge of the bed, thumbing through another one of his wordy books that makes any sane person's head spin. He knows you're glaring at him, but he ignores you. That is, until you whimper again—begging him to cuddle you to sleep. It's alarming how quickly he caves into your little demand.

⋯⁂ You giggle when he tucks himself in next to you, immediately slinging your exhausted arms around his frame. He smiles. A genuine, almost sickeningly-pure smile. He loops one arm around you to pull you closer than ever before, his free hand moving to pet your head with slow and sensitive strokes.

Tighnari

⋯⁂ Immediately demands that you go lay down, even if you had just gotten up out of bed. Tells you he'll stay with you for the day, to ensure you fall asleep. Scolds you for too long about how dangerous the side effects of sleep deprivation are. He cares about you all too much to see you fumble around like an idiot, struggling to do basic tasks.

⋯⁂ Otherwise, he's already picking your brain about what has been keeping you up at night. Too much work? Noisy mind? Simply not tired? He'll do all that he can to craft a good cure for you to aid you in falling asleep. If you attempt to fight back, he can and will sass you mercilessly. He doesn't care to listen to your arguing, he knows he's right and he knows you know that he's stubborn.

⋯⁂ He doesn't mind taking off his ranging for the day. Well, he may complain about it later, but he truly treasures every bit of time spent with you—even if you're half-awake or sick. He does like to take care of you, but he wishes you would be more perceptive about your needs. And if you ever need his help, he's happy to provide it.

⋯⁂ If you ever grow so tired to plea for cuddles, he'll chuckle and ask you a very simple question, "Will you sleep if I give you a good snuggle?" He's a devil in disguise sometimes. But, there's no doubt about it that he does enjoy cuddling you as much as you enjoy cuddling him. His steady breaths and cozy warmth eventually lull you into a peaceful slumber, held close to his chest with protective arms.

Cyno

⋯⁂ Is quite literally already shoving you back into bed and tucking you in. He doesn't need to verbalize his demand, not at all. You pout and he takes none of it. With a fold of his arms, he now verbally commands you to sleep. He may not be the gentlest, but it's still clear as day how much he cares for your well-being.

⋯⁂ He doesn't know medications, cures, or anything of the sort like that very well unless they're patch-ups for battle. Sleep medication? What's that? Oh well, he does his research (by accidentally interrogating others a little too roughly). He does find the perfect medication for you, buying a little too much of it right away before returning to your side.

⋯⁂ Prepares the medication and forces you to take it if you make a complaint about it (if you try to lie about being allergic, he will know, so don't bother). If you do happen to be allergic to any of the ingredients in the medication, he goes back to do even more research. He won't stop until he's certain that you're cozy, comfortable, and sound asleep.

⋯⁂ He quietly thinks up jokes to tell you while you try to sleep again. They're all terrible, by the way, in case you weren't sure. Admittedly, he still finds it awkward to lie in bed by your side, even if you beg for it. He's so used to spending his days and nights alone. He's easing into the idea of it, though, especially when you take a hold of him in your sleep. He chuckles and presses a goodnight kiss to your forehead, letting you hold him for as long as you'd like.

#🌠— my works #💕— multi #💕— zhongli #💕— alhaitham #💕— tighnari #💕— cyno #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #alhaitham x reader #tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #🌠— fluff

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txtmetonight · 4 months

Text

The Lovers of Auradon

call summary ⋆ ★ Jake is the upcoming king of Auradon

or Jake as King Ben

pairing *. * Jake x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Fluff, Angst, Crack

warnings *. * Headcanon format, crude language, basically copied the plot of the movie except changed the characters lol, bad grammar

call duration⋆ ★ 1.7k

a/n*. * Jake as King Ben was giving me such a big brain rot, I felt like I was melting from the inside out oml. Also, I watched a 15-minute recap on the movies just in case but I'm also really lazy so I think I may or may not have accidentally left out some details. Oops.

taglist ⋆ ★ @kflixnet

✭ Upcoming King Jake! who lives a perfect life in Auradon. The very handsome son of the beauty and the beast, he was truly a sight to see, with pure flawlessness

✭ He’s such a pretty thing and lucky guy yet so humble that no one has it in their hearts to hate the guy

✭ Upcoming King Jake! decides that the Isle of the Lost deserves a chance because it’s the right thing to do, and whatever the young prince demands, it happens in a snap of a fingers

✭ And so here you are with your three other friends, the group known as the lucky four

✭ Yet no one knew that after much fight with your mother; maleficent, you four had come on a mission to steal the fairy godmother’s wand, to truly prove how evil you could be

✭ The candy in the fucking limo amazed your eyes, but you would never tell anyone that as you roll up to the awaited castle, eyes sparkling in amazement that you try not to show

✭ Upcoming King Jake! who falls in love with you at first sight; you’re so stunning that he can’t speak, and all he can do is stare at you, which you find weird but brush off–the residents of this island must be a kind of unusual

✭ Plus, you can’t be distracted by his good-looking features! You’re here to make your mother proud by stealing that damn wand that she insists on!

✭ Heeseung, the son of Cruella, Yunjin the daughter of the evil queen, and Beomgyu the son of Jafar all accompany you into the castle, ready to cause much trouble that was needed...though you all knew that deep inside your hearts the real truth

✭ Upcoming King Jake! who can’t stop asking about you or rather even stop talking about you. You’re all that he thinks about, and he finds it in him to befriend you–and it’s not just because of that funny feeling in his stomach that flutters every time he talks to you.

✭ Yunjin thinks it’s cute, but you find it quite annoying, and now diverting as you all just had failed to grasp the wand in your sly hands, and now you must create a new plan from now on

✭ Which is quickly formulated once Yunjin herself–a girl of gossip comes forward with new details that the wand was going to be next to the beauty and the beast and their lovely son, during his coronation

✭ And the most important part–whoever his girl would be for that night, stand right next to them too and next to that wand

✭ Heeseung warns you not to follow through with whatever you were thinking and Beomgyu quickly nods right after, but what would they know, they’ve been enjoying this stupid lifestyle while you wither away in the fear of your cruel mother!

✭ Though recently you’ve found yourself being plagued with Upcoming King Jake! in your dreams–the way that he smiles brightly or the twinkling in his gorgeous eyes...

✭ You shake your head of the thoughts and stand your foot on your plan with a wicked grin, cause who were you if you didn’t shake a bit of trouble

✭ “(Y/n) you can’t seduce Jake like that! He’s too nice to be part of your fucking scheme! Is there really nothing else?”

✭ “Nada” And with that, you skip down to the kitchen to bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies, ones filled with a love spell that would enchant the prince to fall in love with you

✭ But only if you knew that the cookies were unnecessary and that he was already head over heels in love with you, and would’ve done anything in a heartbeat for you

✭ Ho-Hum

✭ Upcoming King Jake! soon announces his love for you at a game, half fueled by the magic in the food he consumed and the other half his true feelings of love for you, and you think that you feel your heart skip a beat for a second

✭ You don’t notice the heavy blush that slathers your face, but the other three definitely do, and they snicker in silence

✭ The first date he takes you on, you realize your mistake; you’ve fallen in love with the young prince

✭ The way that he looks at you like you held the whole world, the way that he holds you with the most utmost gentle care as though your mother hadn’t committed the largest heinous crimes known, the way that he doesn’t even acknowledge your stupid fucking parents really hits the home run for you

✭ With him, you’re just (Y/n) (L/n), not the daughter of maleficent, or some kind of evil girl, you’re just a young woman in love with Sim Jaeyun

✭ He speaks to you through the silence of your own words, his fingers slowly wrapping around yours while he guides you through a lake...and for the first time in a long time, you let a genuine laugh leave your mouth

✭ Upcoming King Jake! decides that your giggle is gonna be the tune he better hear when he enters heaven and that you look so fucking good with your hair slathered back wet droplets slithering down your face

✭ He’s liked you forever and he won’t ever let you go he also concludes

✭ While you're in distress in your dorm, crying your poor eyes out to Yunjin, sobbing about your shocking revelation that she pretends to be surprised to be about

✭ Everyone could see it from a distance away about how much you really pretended to dislike the prince

✭ You feel so guilty for charming Upcoming King Jake! like that and you come to a decision to make an antidote for him after the coronation

✭ And possibly run away and never turn back again–you’re afraid that staying with your ‘lover’ could potentially drag you through a deeper rabbit hole

✭ Dates after date, you learn more about your boyfriend with wide eyes that can’t help but flit to his very tempting lips occasionally

✭ -Anyways coronation doesn’t take long to arrive and before you know it, you’re being fitted into an alluring (sexy) dress with colors that make you pop and a shape that really brings out your figure–Yunjin truly knows you well

✭ The other two boys–your boys take hip hip hooray at you, and you carefully smile at them, hugging them the moment they get close, you’ve missed them

✭ They lead you down the winding hallways where the other students cheer in delight and envy at you. Streamers of gold and blue trail down the walls, there are balloons everywhere and couples dance at the ball music that echoes outside in the open

✭ “Fuck you’re so pretty, I think I’m gonna hurl”

✭ Those are the first words of Upcoming King Jake! utters to you, whimpering when you take his hand so he can assist you into the pearly carriage, grip snaking to your waist to make sure that you didn’t trip–or at least that was his excuse, you just knew that he wanted to feel you up

✭ “And you’re so handsome, and I’m gonna faint” You gulp, absolutely enamored with Sim Jaeyun, fixing his crown as you try not to kiss him...maybe it’s time to tell him the truth

✭ “I–Jake I’m so sorry, but I’ve put something in those cookies I gave you in the beginning of our relationship. You’re not actually in love with me”

✭ You shove the antidote snacks right into his mouth just after, afraid of his response while you well up with silent tears that you try to wipe away discreetly

✭ But the translucent drops on your face are caught softly with cradling arms that turn your reddening face to the side

✭ Nothing in the world mattered to you two, just all you saw was each other and the sparks that flew when King Jake! closes the gap between your lips, so soft and warm your head is going fuzzy...omg

✭ You just kissed Jaeyun...no he kissed you but why?

✭ It seems as though he can read your mind because he quickly answers you, nuzzling his nose against your cheeks

✭ “I know you put that stupid spell on me. It washed away after our first date when we took a dip in the enchanted lake, but I’ve always liked you–since the very beginning when I first laid my eyes on you.

✭ You believe that you’re about to melt from his intense gaze, so what’s the best next thing to do?

✭ Kiss your lover once more on the lips

✭ Too bad your evil mother has stopped your carriage midway, grabbing the wand from Yuna the fairy godmother’s daughter who had just gone rogue from anger

✭ And too bad it’s up to you to stop your mother from her rage, so you step out of the vehicle, magic thrumming deep in your veins as you battle your mother

✭ In that moment two crucial events take place; one you settle to be good and two, King Jake! thinks you’re really fucking hot when you’re angry and fighting your parent

✭ Blah Blah Blah, in the end, you drive that wretched woman away by turning her into a lizard and everyone cheers in joy–you’ve just saved the kingdom!

✭ And guess what? King Jake! just fell more in love with you as he tumbles out of the carriage, pulling you into a tight hug, in front of his parents the crown on his head slipping which you fix, landing a kiss on his cheek

✭ King/Boyfriend Jake! thinks that vexation looks good, but happiness looks so much better with that gorgeous smile that you throw at him...gosh he’s actually about to hurl because of you

✭ He can’t stop kissing you and luckily you don’t think you mind

And so, if happily ever after did actually exist, you and King Jake! wouldn’t have broken up because of your urge to be evil once more, but luckily fate drew breath instead. So he searched for you, because his hearty truly couldn't let you go. He soon learned the ropes of being evil and got almost fucking died because of a few pirates...arghh and then got seduced for the second time! Which you save him from with a true love's kiss, and then he watches you fight again, and for some reason finding you in your element is really stupidly kind of sexy for him.

And that’s why he asks you to marry him outside with a bunch of people watching, kissing you deeply when you accept the ring.

The end.

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