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#He /is/ always prepared at least on my blog.
lollixp0p · 3 months
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The Video (18+)
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Pairing: Best friend!Hwang Hyunjin x afab!reader
Genre: Smut (MDNI), bit of feelings
Word count: just under 3k!
Warnings: Idol!au, subby!Hyunjin, slightly perv!reader, recording, (maybe a bit dub con because he doesn't mean to send it but reader watches it anyway), mommy kink, masturbation (both but separately), Hyunjin fantasizes about reader, reader fantasizes about Hyunjin, lmk if I missed anything!!
Summary: Hyunjin finally gets some alone time after weeks of hard work and decides to use his time to... relax. The next day he ends up sending you something on accident that sets off a big change in your lives, with or without either of you really realising.
Note: My first ever fic!! :3 Inspired by a video I saw on phub. (@cbini (Ems isn't on Tumblr rn she still wanted to be tagged so I hope it's ok), @comet-falls, @hyunsvngs, @mnwrld and @skz-hell lmao hello everyone, writing blog reveal!!😁 here's this fic I've mention to all of you as an anon<3 (depending on who you are I'm either ❄️anon, 🐾anon or sounding anon😳)). To anyone reading this please give me literally any feedback (comment, reblog, anything!), I want to know if this is good or not since it's my first fic🙏😣
Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!
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It's been exactly three weeks since Hyunjin's had any time for just himself, though it feels like months at this point.
Recently everyone's been running around like headless chickens and between vocal trainings, dance practices and the studio, there hasn't been much time to just relax and recharge. Preparing for a new album really is the busiest time of an idols life.
There hasn't even been time to see family or friends, which is common during busy spells like this, but always dissapointing to think about. Now even more so, with how much he's been wishing to spend time with you, one of his closest friends... who also happens to be his crush. Not that he'd ever let you know though, not in a very long time.
It feels almost like a blessing, getting back to the dorms from practice late in the evening and realising... he's got the place all for himself, at least until his roommates get back from the studio.
Changbin had messaged him earlier, telling him that they'd probably be there well past midnight, so there was no use waiting up for them. To him though, this was the very opposite of an issue. With that much free time, he'd definitely be able to... make himself comfortable, so to speak.
See, not having time to relax also means he'd basically had no time to get off. The best he'd been able to do had been quick little sessions barely once a week in the shower right before passing out on his bed from the exhaustion of working hard.
The realisation that he'd be able to do anything he wants during his time alone is enough to get his dick twitching in his jeans and he decides the shower can wait until later.
Hyunjin goes to his room and locks the door after himself even though he's alone, it's just become a habit after so many years living with his members. He sets his bag down next to his bed and thinks through his plan.
Hyunjin has a little secret, which is that he loves recording himself do dirty things that range from more vanilla to much less vanilla. Something about the thrill of being recorded even if no one will ever see it just... makes him so fucking horny.
He opens the camera of his phone, puts it to video mode and presses record. Moving his hand off the lense and setting it down where he normally sets it, on the carefully placed pile of books on his desk, he sits down on his bed.
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", Hyunjin sighs with a pout and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He knows the camera won't see it though because he's made sure the stand, his pile of books, is at a level that cuts off his head perfectly.
Hyunjins hands run down his body slowly and he exhales deeply, just loud enough to get picked up by his phone. Once they reach his jeans he unbuttons them, unzips the zipper, then pulls the jeans down just enough to expose his underwear. Hyunjin pulls his shirt up over his stomach to be held in place under his chin, rubs his hand over his bulge and hums.
It's been so long since the last time he's been able to take his time making himself feel good. It's almost embarrassing how quickly he's getting hard.
He takes his dick out his boxers and then spits on the palm of his right hand. It's dirty and wet but it just turns him on even more. He grabs his dick with the hand and slowly moves his fist up and down, to spread the saliva and precum all over his dick to make the slide easier and wetter but to also get himself to full hardness.
"A-ah, ohh... that's so good... Feels-fuck, feels so good", Hyunjin sighs. It really won't take him too long to cum, he just knows it. He's been pent up for far too long.
He tries to think of something to help his issue and immediately thinks of you, no matter how embarrassed or dirty it makes him feel.
When you first started showing up in the dirtiest corners of his mind he felt so ashamed. Now it doesn't matter to him anymore. You'll never find out so why feel bad?
He continues to move his hand on his dick while thinking of you. The last time the two of you had time to hang out together you'd worn the lowest cut shirt he'd ever seen on you. He had tried so hard to act normal around you but whenever you bent down he'd been able to see into your shirt.
"Haah, fuck..." , he squeezes himself a little harder at the memory. Everytime you moved he could see your bra poking out from the top, black and lacy. The entire time he'd been doing his best to not bust in his pants. Oh, what he'd give to be able to see your tits. They always looked so soft and they'd probably fit perfectly into his palms.
Whenever the both of you would hang out at yours, watching movies and just hanging out, you never bothered to wear a bra. Why would you? It is your house where you want to be as comfortable as possible.
The feeling of laying down on your couch watching a movie with you on top of him, in just a t-shirt, will end up driving him mad one day. Everytime he'd felt your nipples poking into him he'd almost moaned out loud.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!", he lets out pathetically, moving his fist faster. God he just wants you to use him, to do anything you want to him. The thought makes him whine desperately.
One of the most common fantasies for him is you on top of him using him to get off, not caring about if he's close or not. You'd sit on his face and ride it until you cum. He could probably cum untouched like that. All he'd need was tasting you and seeing you cum, just for him.
All the sudden he remembers the phone recording him and he shudders. He imagines what your reaction would be to seeing him like this. Would you be disgusted or delighted? Would you tell him what to do and how to touch himself? Maybe you'd touch him... He hopes you would.
"Mommy... please touch me, aah- oh!", he runs his thumb over the head of his cock just right and his thighs twitch but he keeps them open, in perfect view to the camera.
Throwing his head back he imagines you riding him. You'd be so tight and wet around him. Maybe you'd tie his hands behind his back so he wouldn't be able to touch you... he'd really like that. You'd feel godly around him, Hyunjin thinks.
"Fuck, oh fuck! Mommy I'm-haah, I'm so close, please!", his dick twitches desperately. You're so gorgeous, to him you're the sexiest person he's ever seen. He feels himself getting so close that tears spring to his eyes.
"Ah- 'm gonna... mommy, gonna cum...!", he whines out long and loud. It takes Hyunjin two more strokes to let go and he cums the hardest he's cum in weeks. He doesn't even register whispering your name. Hyunjin leans back on his left hand and keeps stroking himself through it.
The feeling is overwhelming, so much so that his thighs start twitching pathetically and the tears in the corners of his eyes fall. He's getting incredibly overstimulated but he keeps going, wanting to keep enjoying the feeling, just a bit more.
He squeezes himself one last time and suddenly everything on him feels gross and dirty. He's just had the best orgasm in weeks so it's no surprise that he came a lot, everywhere. He even managed to get some on his chin.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone. It takes a while for him to come down from the high, the twitchiness and the feeling of euphoria lingering in his body. Once he's capable of standing up again he stops the video.
With his body feeling like jelly, he takes off all his clothes, drops them into his hamper and prepares to shower, at last.
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Hyunjin wakes up to his alarm the next day feeling more refreshed than he's felt in weeks. He shuts off the still ringing alarm and quickly gets up from his bed to get dressed and go eat breakfast.
Checking the calendar on his phone to make sure he knows his schedule for today, he makes a note of one thing; he'd have a lot of time alone at the dorms today too, since he's only got a dance practice and a recording session today, which obviously means 3racha will stay behind to stress about their songs while Hyunjin can return early. Maybe this time he should continue the latest piece of art he's been working on after he gets back?
Hyunjin gets through the day well enough.
After eating breakfast he messages you a "Good morning pretty <3 please remember to drink water!" like every morning when he has time for it. He gets to the practice room only five minutes late, which is a record this early in the morning, because usually he ends up sleeping in at least ten minutes (which makes Chan scold him for being such a heavy sleeper).
He does well at practice, even though he ends up a little exhausted. That's nothing new though, with how hard they always work to be the best they can be.
The rest of the members leave to take a break but Hyunjin decides to stay behind to film the solo choreography he's been working on for fun. Once he's happy with how it's turned out, it's time for him to go record his lines.
The recording session goes smoothly, without hundreds of retakes and everyone's satisfied with the result. Afterwards they decide to order some take-out, as a reward for a job well done... and also because they're all feeling too lazy to even think about going to the dorms to cook.
While eating Hyunjin finally realises to check his phone again. "Good morning, take care of yourself too!! :)" is your response to what he sent earlier. It's nothing more than a kind response but it makes him grin to himself like the fool in love he is.
"Yaaah!! Hyunjinnieee, what's making you smile so beautifully?", Changbin leans towards him with his signature flirting-with-Hyunjin grin, mouth half full of rice.
"It's nothing," Hyunjin responds back to him cheeks red, "and don't talk with your mouth full hyung... Do you not have any respect?"
Changbin decides to drop it in favor of eating more delicious food.
"Oh come on... we wanna know!!", Han pouts at him from his seat on the couch in the room. Hyunjin shoves another mouthful of food in his mouth to avoid the embarrassement of explaining how a single text messaged from you manages to make his heart beat out of his chest.
Once Hyunjin's done eating he's free to go back to the dorms and just like he suspected the rest of his dormmates stay behind to work some more, although they all whine at him to stay to explain the previous mystery. He declines and they all keep their sad puppydog eyes on him until he's out the door.
He keeps texting you during his ride, all the way to the dorms. Once he's in his room Hyunjin decides to just change into some clean clothes. He's too excited to talk to you and get to painting, he can wash up later.
He lays in his bed to keep texting you and at some point your conversation changes from how your day's been going to talking about dancing and he mentions how he just today filmed a new choreography bit he's made for fun.
❣️:
Can I see what you've been working on? :)
I'm sure it's really good, you always are!!
Jinnie:
Well... since you asked so nicely😉
[video sent]
Quickly sending the video Hyunjin exits out the messaging app, feeling so giddy he can't help but squirm around on his bed. He still can't believe someone like you could be interested in seeing him dance.
It might seem like a small thing for most but he feels himself turning red just thinking about the way you look at him while he talks about something so important to him. It makes the butterflies in his stomach every time you're near go crazy. It's so attentive, like you actually care and are interested in his interests... and maybe even...?
'No' , he thinks to himself. There's probably no way you could ever actually be interested in him, not in the same way he's interested in you at least.
He leaves his phone charging and finally gets out of bed to go to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He'd need it if he wanted to stay up late to work on his newest art piece.
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Hearing the familiar 'ping' notification of receiving a message makes you open your phone again and just like you thought, Hyunjin had sent you the video of his latest masterpiece of a choreography. Not waiting a second you press the video just to see.... Hyunjin take his hand off the camera and set the phone down on the desk in his room he draws on. He sits down on the edge of his bed and says something, you aren't really sure what, because the volume's too low. In confusion you turn it up more.
Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair out his face, probably. You can't see it though, because the camera cuts his face perfectly off frame. Suddenly his hands run down his body to the button on his jeans. He opens it and starts undoing the zipper next. You just look at the video in shock. 'He isn't about to... to take them off is he?', you think to yourself, just as he pulls the jeans down enough to expose his white boxers and then palms his bulge.
Should you stop watching? Keep watching? How long has it even been playing? How long does it keep playing? While you wonder this you almost miss Hyunjin pull his hard dick out of his underwear and spit on his palm and... Oh God...
You've now done something you can never take back. The downright sinful view of his cock is something you don't think you're ever going to be able to forget. How do you even face him after this? After watching him grasp his dick in his hand and pump it a couple of times to spread the spit and precum around.
You exit the video, panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. Your other hand rushes to your face to feel your cheeks. They're burning and feel like you've been standing out in the sun for hours, when in reality all you've done is accidentally watch your best friend play with himself.
You struggle to decide what to do with the video and in the end save the video without much thinking, then delete the message of it and decide to notify him of his mistake. As long as he doesn't know you saved it, it should be fine, right?
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It takes Hyunjin less than 10 minutes to make and get the coffee. He returns to his room humming the tune of a song he's had on repeat recently. Setting the coffee down on the desk and taking his phone off from the charger he notices new messages from you.
❣️:
Uhm...😕
Hyunjin, I don't think you meant to send that.
He looks at his screen confused. What did you mean by that? He...
Oh God.
Did he send the wrong video?
Frantically opening the video he sent earlier he sees himself, in video, move his hand off the phone camera and set it down the desk near his bed and sit down. Oh no...
"Hmm... I hope the angle's good... It's been so long since I've had time for this", video Hyunjin sighs and reaches up to move his hair from his eyes. His head may be out of frame but he clearly remembers pouting while saying this. He watches himself slowly unbutton and unzip his pants, adjusting them so that his boxers are clearly visible in frame. In the video his hand drifts towards his crotch slowly, teasingly.
He quickly exits the video and promptly shoves his head under his pillow and yells. He'd accidentally sent the wrong video while hurrying to get a cup of coffee. How could he have messed up this bad? In his panic, it takes him a moment to respond.
Jinnie:
Oh god
I'm so sorry!!
Please don't watch that!
❣️:
Don't worry!!!
I stopped watching the moment you started unzipping your pants😖
I saw nothing, promise!🙏 It's been deleted already!! 
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Little does he know though, you'd kept the video. You're not really sure why, but subconciously your brain keeps screaming' to finish it later, of course'.
...
Fuck it, you don't think you can wait until later.
Taking a deep breath, you open your gallery to find the video he sent you. You hesitate for a second but press play anyway. You can feel how you're already soaking through your underwear but pay no mind to it yet.
You watch him do the things you've seen already, all the way until he spits in his hand... and you pause the video. 'Is it right to watch this? I mean, he didn't mean to even send it...', you think to yourself.
But the thought of seeing him touch himself, to hear him make the sweetest noises you could ever in your wildest dreams imagine him making drives you on.
Pressing play again you dip your fingers into your pants. You rub yourself over your underwear and oh my god... you can't believe the wetness you feel after less than a minute of watching the video. You focus on the phone you're holding in your other hand and finally move your fingers into your underwear to directly touch your pussy.
On your screen you see Hyunjin start to stroke himself faster, the head of his dick a dark pink, you can feel his desperation through the screen. Without thinking you move your fingers to your clit and start rubbing it in circles, aided by the wetness of your leaking pussy.
He moans out loud and even though you can't hear it through the fog in your head, you know he's desperate. You move your fingers down to your hole and dip two of them in. You're so wet you barely need to even stretch yourself out and then he does it.
"Hngh... Oh my god, please... m-mommy!"
You push your fingers deeper and your pussy lets out he lewdest squelch which in turn makes you close your eyes desperately in pleasure. 'Mommy? When he masturbates he calls out for mommy??', the thought makes you lose your mind. You think about what it would be like if he called you mommy in the throes of pleasure.
You want to make him follow every command you give him. The way he'd look up at you on his knees with you standing above him. Maybe you could make him suck on a strap? He'd look so ridiculously delicious with his mouth full, drool dripping down his cheeks.
You add another finger and start rubbing at your clit with your thumb at the same time. The feeling makes you whimper and imagine his hands on you, teaching him how to touch you perfectly. You're getting so close and you remember to focus your screen again.
Hyunjin looks absolutely disheveled. His dick is red and throbbing, you can tell he's getting close. His voice is another thing that gives him away. He's whiny and his voice keeps cracking every time he opens his mouth. Hyunjin bucks into his hand and moans.
"... mommy, gonna cum...!", he strokes himself twice more and then finally cums. You're so close it's maddening. All the sudden you hear him... whisper your name?
It makes you go off the edge and your entire body clenches and seizes while you silently cry out from all the pleasure you're feeling. Your walls suck in your fingers with how you're clenching around them. On the screen Hyunjin twitches violently, working himself through the end of his orgasm.
You pull your fingers out of yourself and slump down on your bed exhausted, but the last 20 seconds of the video that's now over haunts you. Did you hear him right?
You gather strength to pick up your phone again and rewind the video to the part where he cums and turn the volume almost all the way up. Admittedly you end up fixating on the way his dick looks and face twists in pleasure when he cums and then he says, or more like whisper your name. Your brain blanks.
"Fuuck... Did you-haah... did you enjoy that?", he chuckles to the phone, sits in place for a bit to properly come down and then gets up to stop the video.
You're wet, confused and you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. What do you do now? How can you ever face him normally after that... Does he feel the same way you do? Is he sure he didn't mean to send it?
It's all too much to think about, so you decide that instead of thinking about it you'll clean yourself up and... crawl into a hole where no one will ever find you. Probably. The only thing you know for sure is you definitely won't be sleeping tonight.
© lollixp0p 2024 | please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works
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iridescentblued · 12 days
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꒰୨୧꒱ — 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 !
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꒰୨୧꒱ — 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: geto x afab!reader
꒰୨୧꒱ — 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 && 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nsfw / 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni! geto is a college algebra math tutor && reader is failing, written in lapslock, geto is a tinie, TINIE bit of a perv (but we love him), not beta’d in any shape or form so please excuse mistakes, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks), piv, oral (f!receiving), use of pet names (kitten, angel, sweetheart), praise, reader calls geto ‘senpai’ until she doesn’t, size kink. wc; 8.5k
꒰୨୧꒱ — 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔. . .  this is my first fic on this blog and also my first jjk fic in my entire life so please go easy on me aha i tried to keep it relatively tame, but based on my plans for the future, this will not be a trend sjfigjsfgj. reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! ♡
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there wasn’t anything special about your case; at least, that’s what suguru had thought when he picked up your request before he met you. before he met you, you were just another student trying to demystify the painfully enigmatic art of getting through college algebra. before he met you, he had already tagged this case as another charity stint — a good way to get brownie points with the dean’s office and the mathematics and natural sciences department. in fact, thinking of all his tutoring cases as community service made them somewhat palatable, if not a little forgettable. he was quite sure, at the time, that you’d be in and out — both of the tutoring center and his memory. such was the case with most of his other tutees, anyway. 
he hadn’t expected you to be… well, you — a pretty little thing, with your sweet smile and your wide doe eyes. on the first day, you’d stood out; you’d arrived at the tutoring center’s lobby in a short dress, knit cardigan, and coquettish makeup, as if every fiber of your being were bidding the spring a solid farewell. multiple heads had turned, including his, as you came up to the front desk and asked for one geto suguru for college algebra. you were eager for summer, suguru had learned as you broke the ice little by little, in part because you looked forward to visiting okinawa with your family, but also because you were eager to get your first semester out of the way. that much, you had in common with most of his other students — almost all of the ones seeking help in college algebra only took it as a depressing core requirement of whatever degree they were doing. you, specifically, were focusing on fashion design; that very vividly explained your attention to your looks. this mathematics class was a thorn in your side, a mandatory thing that was simply supposed to get you through later business-oriented classes in your degree program. for suguru, however, college algebra had become the perfect excuse from the moment he’d laid eyes on you. 
the more time he spends with you, the more he thinks you’re exactly his taste. it starts off with little things he finds attractive, things he picks up while he’s watching you fill out the practice sheets he’s prepared for you on quadratic equations or while trying to get you to understand logarithms — your neat, tiny handwriting, almost like print; your habit of boxing your final answers in firm strokes, even if they’re hopelessly wrong; your colored tabs, cascading down the page side of your textbook. but as the weeks wear on, he sees all the little things in between — the way your long eyelashes quiver when you stop and close your eyes as you think for the answer, the upturn of your plush lips when you have the same answer on the practice sheet as he does, the deepening of your artificial blush with a natural hue when you realize you don’t know the answers to his gentle questions. he notices that you refuse to wear anything longer than a knee-length skirt despite the still-strong winds, notices that your tiny palms are always smooth and pink, that your hair always smells of coconut milk. these are things he can’t help but jot down in his memory — that was exactly what you were, after all: memorable. 
and the more he remembers about you, the more suguru wants you. yet he’s never made a move, never given so much as a hint of his interest, not only because there are prying eyes all around the building but also because you have never so much as shown a smidge of desire back. in fact, he has to wonder if you’ve ever thought of him in a different capacity — not as a tutor, but as a man. if you have, you’ve never made that obvious; you always talk to him respectfully, the little wall you’ve erected between the both of you remaining steady, and you never let your eyes linger on his face for longer than it takes for him to explain what you don’t know. suguru has had his fair share of female students, and in all of them, he’s seen the same kind of hunger — to few, he’s catered to their whims, if only to pass the time, if only for his own benefit. but you, with your ribbons in your hair and your sweet, sweet mouth, have never once shown that same kind of desire. 
he doesn’t know if it frustrates him, but he does know one thing — it makes him want you all the more. 
he wants you even now, as you sit across from him, dolled up as usual. even now, as your eyes take on a glassy sheen of defeat, your cheeks puffing out in the way that tells him you’re admonishing yourself once again, he craves you — maddeningly so. and he realizes that it doesn’t really matter if you're not the one to fall first, as long as he can still have you. 
“time out,” you beg, your fingers meeting the palm of your hand to signal a break. “my brain feels like it’s going to explode.”
“you just had a break ten minutes ago,” suguru reminds you, though there’s a lighthearted amusement to his voice that makes you smile sheepishly. “at this rate, you’ll be on more breaks than you’ll be taking the time to actually learn.”
“i’m trying,” you groan, your fingers curling against your forehead as you bump your head against your fist. “i just don’t think i’m cut out for this polynomial whatever — trial and error bullshit.” 
“you’ll hate me for saying this — but you’ll never know unless you keep trying.” 
“funny.” your sigh rustles the papers in front of you gently. “how do you do it, senpai?”
“hm?” 
“you’re not only good at this stuff, but you’re so good you’re able to take the time to teach people like me.” 
“strengths and weaknesses — it’s the natural way of the world.” suguru smiles gently at you, and he notes how his chest feels tighter when you return the sentiment shyly. “i could never do what you’re doing in your own degree, try as i might. anyway, you’ll get there. i won’t let you become my first ever failed project, you know.”
“i wouldn’t want to let you down either, senpai, but—” the back end of your pencil taps lightly against the surface of the table. “it just feels hopeless. i can’t focus on anything. it’s so… so abstract, and everyone here is talking all at once, and i don’t even know what i’m ever going to get out of this class in the long run.” 
even when you’re dejected, you look pretty; your bottom lip juts out naturally when you whine like this, and for a moment, suguru can’t say anything in response. he’s too busy wondering what your mouth would feel like on his — on him. when he snaps himself out of his brief reverie, he notices you’re looking around at everyone else — and he has to agree that with the noise level in this whole building, it isn’t the most conducive site for learning, especially when the learner is already so averse to the subject matter.
“i can’t help much in the way of it being too abstract,” he says kindly. “but it’s not a requirement for us to have our sessions here. i know it can be quite distracting, all these voices flying around, so why don’t you look for a place that better suits you, and we can start meeting there instead? the more comfortable you are in your environment, the better you’ll be able to absorb the material, i’m sure.” 
“you think?” your pencil comes to a slow halt as you refocus on him, a thoughtful light glimmering behind your gaze. “yeah — yeah, i actually wouldn’t mind that. then, i’ll look for a different place for us to meet, and we can start there next week. how does that sound?”
“whatever suits you suits me,” he responds easily. 
he lowers his gaze immediately after you flash him a blinding grin; there are far too many people here, as you both very well know, and if he keeps looking at you and your pretty little expressions any longer, he might just give them something to actually look at. 
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it had been your idea, not his, so why did suguru feel like he’d dragged you into a compromising situation?
you’d texted him over the weekend that your search for a new venue had been absolutely fruitless; every cafe and study space you’d been to was either too expensive or equally as packed with people, if not both. suguru had seen the preview to your message, but he hadn’t been prepared for what it read out in full when he’d actually opened it.
senpai, would it be too difficult to just meet at my apartment? i attached a map, so let me know!
it wouldn’t be too difficult; logistics-wise, it was walking distance from campus and almost directly across the train station he takes home. it also definitely promised an environment you were comfortable in, and you wouldn’t have to worry about excess noise from any other tutoring groups. no, the difficulty really only lied in himself — you two, all alone, would certainly mean his mind would be up to no good for the two hours every monday, wednesday, and thursday you would be together.
but for your sake, he’d try to rein it in, with the operative word being try.
your place is as neat and as pretty as you are; he doesn’t know if you’ve cleaned up for him, or if you’re naturally this organized, but he likes it all the same. it smells of toasted marshmallow and expensive perfume, and all your furniture matches. suguru supposes he likes that in a woman — someone able to care for herself, someone who cares about herself. and you’re always just as neat and pretty to match, with your hair always styled sweetly, your makeup always enhancing your features.
the problem is that now that he’s in here, where you live, and where you spend most of your time, suguru’s mind seems to wander too much towards thoughts about what you do in private. he rejects studying on the couch, not just because it’s bad for posture and concentration but also because he can’t help but imagine you pressed into the cushions by his hand. he suggests the small dining table you have, but on the second meeting at your place, he starts thinking about what you might look like seated on the table, your ass hanging over the edge and his face buried between your thighs. whenever you look up to ask him something, he drinks in your lovely, made-up face again, and starts wondering what your makeup would look like ruined before he interrupts that trainwreck of a thought with the answer to your question.
by the end of the week, suguru’s defenses are all but shot, and he realizes that this situation might be optimal for you, but it definitely isn’t doing him and his now constantly straining cock any great favors.
he supposes that your performance has somewhat improved; you’re less likely to trail off when you’re thinking and can actually do practice sets for a lot longer without all the noise and hubbub around you. your only real hindrance is yourself and your frustration; you have a habit of giving into your carelessness that sends you spiraling into despair, and it doesn’t help that when you press your cheek against the surface of your dining table and whine, the comfort suguru offers is noticeably delayed because he’s too busy thinking about his cock between your lips.
“my dad’s going to kill me if i fail this midterm,” you grumble, stabbing the practice sheet with your pencil; it skids sideways, and suguru robotically fixes it back into proper alignment for you, careful not to brush against the arm that’s folded inwards, supporting your chin. “he only agreed to let me take this degree because of the business aspect of it. as if i’ll need to know about—” you check the header of the worksheet. “domain and range when i’m doing actual design work.”
“you’ll never know what might be useful later on in life. i definitely thought this was nonsense back in high school — and then i got this job.”
“and now you’re rolling in dough?” you smile slightly. suguru chuckles.
“i’m a long way away from having myself a scrooge mcduck golden pool, but i make enough to get by very comfortably, thanks to this.”
“thanks to me, you mean.”
“you’re not my only student,” he snorts, pinching your elbow; you cry out exaggeratedly. “focus up. the hour’s almost over, and you should have finished with this much earlier.”
“can you leave it as homework?”
“not a chance.”
you blow out a sharp puff of air. “my mom used to do this thing where she’d give me rewards if i did well with my homework. i wish i’d still get something out of this.”
“what kind of rewards did she give you?”
“chocolates — candy, or sometimes we’d go out for milk tea together, if i did a particularly good job.”
“this is math tutoring, not a trip to the dentist,” suguru says, amused.
“a trip to the dentist would be more enjoyable,” you mutter under your breath, picking up your pencil and doodling an angry face next to the number you’re only halfway through solving. “this totally blows.”
“try to finish this before the hour’s up, and i’ll see if i can get you something nice. out of my own paycheck,” he stresses, prodding at your cheek to shift your attention back to the paper. he doesn’t miss the fact that your eyes light up, childish as the promise is.
he doesn’t know if that’s really what motivates you, but you do manage to finish the worksheet with a few minutes to spare before the clock hits seven, and that earns you some light, solo applause. it isn’t much by way of true praise, but you flush with pride all the same. suguru packs his things in silence as you get yourself a glass of water, and you see him to the door. only there does he notice your eager eyes, your expectant smile.
“what’s going through that pretty little head of yours?”
“are you really going to give me a reward? i did great today, you know,” you respond bluntly.
“you were serious about that?” he laughs.
“absolutely. i earned it.” you raise a slim finger, wagging it in his face. he trails it with his gaze, no shortage of amusement in his eyes. “next monday, i want something sweet.”
suguru takes in the sight of you, keeping your door open with your hip; he wonders if you know what you’re doing to him, what you’re asking of him — if you even know there’s nothing that could possibly be sweeter than you at this very moment. he drinks in the sight of your feigned haughty expression on your pretty features, the unnervingly low dip of your tank top, the tempting hemline of your shorts, and feels like you must be aware of what he’s going to do next.
“if it’s something sweet you want, you don’t have to wait until next week.”
he does it before he can think it through — surely, there’s nothing too harmful about a quick kiss? he angles your chin upward with his thumb and forefinger before you can even react to his words, and he tastes you like that for the first time. you’re just as soft and as sweet as he’d imagined, if not more so.
when suguru pulls away, you step back; there’s shock written all over your face, your mouth still hanging open slightly. your voice is gentle, shaky when you start speaking.
“senpai, wha—”
“see you next week. rest up over the weekend, or there’ll be consequences.”
he finds it easy to joke with you now, even after what he’s done — finds it easy to wave goodbye with nonchalance as he walks to the elevator, now that he’s gotten one thing out of his system. the look on your face, the growing blush across the bridge of your nose and your temples is indication enough for suguru to feel confident — if you hadn’t thought about him that way before, you were sure to spend the next few days doing exactly that.
it’s exactly a week before your midterm exam, and suguru notices you’re less than focused.
he’d let you stew over the weekend, not expecting much by way of communication; indeed, his phone hadn’t once been jostled by your texts. he’d taken that silence to assume that you’d been wrapped up in thoughts of the kiss he’d left you with, and you did not disappoint on that front; the next monday saw you fidgety, flushed, and constantly faltering in your words. you asked less questions, which normally indicated a problem, but today, he’d let it slide; you definitely had a little too much on that pretty little brain of yours.
he notices you’re still dolled up — your eyelids are shimmery, and your lips are glossy; you’re wearing a tennis skirt that hits all the right buttons for him, too. it’s true that you’re always pretty well-dressed and put together, but today somehow feels different. if before, suguru had always seen you dressed up simply to look good, today it feels a little more like you’re dressed up to look good for him. he knows it’s a little bit egotistical to assume as much, but he also doesn’t miss the side glances you throw at him when you think he’s not looking at you answering your textbook or the way your cheeks glow when you make the slightest bit of eye contact.
still, you try to focus as much as you can; it’s adorable, in fact, to see all your valiant efforts to appear unperturbed. he figures he’ll play along for as long as you will — what matters to him, after all, is that you’re in the game to begin with. you complain less today, focus on your worksheets, and suguru even manages to witness the sight of your forehead creasing up as you concentrate on a particularly difficult item. you’re adorable, in the kind of way that makes him want to pin you down and have his way with you.
you finish your work without a fuss today; you only actually asked for his help twice, which was a feat in and of itself. and again, when the session is over, you walk him to the door.
this time, when you linger, he waits; you’re clearly not good at hiding your true intentions, as it’s become clear you have something you want to say. as you try to piece your thoughts together, suguru reaches into his backpack’s front pocket and extracts today’s gift — an actual chocolate bar, albeit a rather run of the mill one.
“what’s this?” you ask, your thought process clearly derailed as confusion takes over your features.
“your reward. for a good job last week and today — you said you wanted one, didn’t you?”
“but i thought—” you stop yourself, your mouth opening and closing, suddenly wordless. suguru grins.
“not good enough? i picked that up from a convenience store on my way here, so it definitely isn’t anything special, but i thought it would at least be a good motivator.”
you’re turning red, and there’s turmoil in your eyes — he enjoys this, he realizes, the way he flusters you. if he had known this would be the result, he would have made a move much sooner. you shift your weight from one foot to the other, back and forth, obviously weighing out your options too. finally, you say, “alright.”
“you seem disappointed.”
“i’m not.”
“i’ll get you a better brand next time, if you really don’t like it.”
“it’s not that.”
“so what is it?” he doesn’t expect you to say it, and you don’t defy expectations; your bottom lip just quivers, and suguru chuckles low under his breath, stepping forward just past your doorway, just a little bit closer to you. “don’t tell me you wanted something completely different?”
you don’t say so, but he knows; he can tell by the way you tilt your head back, the way your lips part slightly, the gloss still trailing along the seam. he can tell by the way your torso arches just a little bit closer, almost like an accident. he can tell by the way your eyes bore into his, almost pleading.
“what you did last week…” you start, but your voice trails off into nothing soon after. he chuckles again.
“ah, that. i might have gotten ahead of myself.”
“was that all?” you press.
“and what would you do, if it wasn’t?”
“well — do you always like to play games?”
“i have a penchant for playing with my food before i eat it, if that answers your question.” he smiles down at your still-reddening face. “i was giving you a reward, as you wanted. i came up short on options then and there. you’ll let it slide this once, won’t you?”
“you did that just because i did well last week?”
“of course.”
“well, i did well today, too.”
“you did, and that’s why you have this.” he gestures to the chocolate bar in your hand.
“i don’t want this.” your voice is stubborn now, heated and frustrated, and you stuff the chocolate back into his hand. you must not like having to ask for something so blatantly — it’s too bad suguru wants to hear it in those exact words.
“tell me what you really want, then.”
you’re still unable to find the words, but your hands do the talking for you; they press into his shoulders and give you leverage to tiptoe until you’re just close enough to his lips. but you don’t close that gap, your mouth quivering only inches away from his, and oh, suguru wants to toy with you, but you’re just too irresistible this close to him. his warm palms press against your jaw, keeping your face steady as he closes the gap, and this time, he doesn’t just get a brief taste of you — suguru claims your lips with the thirst of a man who’s stumbled upon an oasis in the desert.
you must have thought about this moment long and hard over the weekend, because the nonchalant side of you that’s turned a blind eye to him is completely gone; he drinks in your soft noises and short, breathless gasps — all signs of your eagerness — until he’s drunk on the taste of you. the deeper the kiss gets, the less you can keep up, but you try, and suguru always likes rewarding your efforts, his wide tongue taut and flush against your tiny one in the sweet, warm cavern of your mouth. he licks every inch of it, leaves the mild nicotine taste of himself there, before he pulls away slowly. your eyes are still closed when he creates distance, fluttering open in a happy haze a few seconds later.
“good enough for you?” he murmurs, tucking a soft lock of hair behind your ear. you hum in assent through your dazed smile, and suguru knows he won’t be the only one looking forward to this coming wednesday.
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you’d done really well today.
suguru’s proud of you — prouder than he’s been of most of his students in his career here at the university, actually. you’d finally answered a worksheet almost perfectly, save for a couple of numbers where you’d forgotten to round up, and those things are absolutely negligible at this point (by his books, anyway). you’ve been on your best behavior yet, avoiding all forms of complaint, and he knows fully well why, but he won’t criticize you for your hard work all the same, no matter the motivation behind it.
in fact, you’ve done so good that he doesn’t wait until he’s about to leave to give you your sweet reward — which is why, twenty minutes before he’s meant to go, he’s got you on your couch, your legs spread, each one hooked over his shoulders.
truth be told, you’d been good way before the lesson had started; you’d answered the door in a crop top and the tiniest pair of shorts you’ve dared to wear yet — all clothes that you couldn’t yet wear outside yet, given the weather. selfishly, suguru is thankful for this fact, and if he had to list down other things he’s thankful for, just off the top of his head, it’s that you no longer meet in the tutoring center and that your apartment’s walls seem thick and well-reinforced.
“senpai, don’t tease me.” your silly little whining voice makes its first appearance of the day, but all suguru does is smile — it’s an almost wicked expression, set firmly between your thighs. “you said i did really well today. don’t tell me you’re backing out on rewarding me?”
“not at all, sweetheart,” he hums, pressing a small kiss to your inner thigh. he likes seeing you shiver at the contact, likes the way you’re chewing on your lip in what appears to be slight agitation. “just thinking of how much of a reward you deserve.”
in all honesty, suguru would like to take every bit of you now; you’re already so ready for him, anyway. he can smell the faint perfume of your arousal, can see the way you’re anticipating the most from him, and a part of him doesn’t want to deny you of that. the larger part of him has dreamed of burying his cock into you, anyway, and why wouldn’t he do that? but something also tells him to wait — or, rather, to make you wait, to make you want him just a little more.
and so, he decides.
his mouth finds your skin again, pressing kisses up your thigh; they get wetter, hotter as his mouth moves up, until his nose and lips are buried against your clothed core. you squirm in response, but his grip on your thighs keeps you relatively steady, even as his tongue presses against thin fabric. the wet muscle pushes sharp against your tiny entrance, the tip meeting slight resistance against your shorts and panties, but he finds a way, burying half his tongue in alongside damp cloth.
you’re already wet like this, and so needy that it might be possible for suguru to get you off just like this, still clothed, but the hunger in him spikes once you call out to him.
“senpai, please…”
with a groan, his fingers yank the fabric aside, exposing your pussy to the warmth of his breathing. it’s as pink, as pretty, as tiny as the rest of you, as fuckable as he’d imagined it would be, and he wastes no time in pressing his tongue flat against your folds, dragging it up in a wide, messy stripe; the muscle only tenses when it bumps against your clit, his tongue flicking upwards to tease it.
you’re so reactive, even at the slightest things — you whimper, you squeeze your eyes shut, you squirm. you’re begging to be fucked, and suguru’s cock is strained tight against his jeans, but your taste is so addicting that he can’t help but dive back in. his tongue eases between your folds now, spreading them apart until they’re lewd and sticky with his saliva, and the nub of your clit has grown so pronounced now — so pert and lovely that he can’t help but purse his lips around it and suck with excess force.
“senpai — f—fuck,” you mewl; you almost sound tearful. “f—feels so good…”
suguru wants to tell you how fucking good you taste, how beautiful the sounds you’re making are, but his mouth is too busy; his teeth rake down your cunt lightly, earning him a jerk of your hips, and he has to place pressure down on your thighs again to make sure you’re still enough for him to slip his tongue into your cunt.
he can tell even just by that how tight you’d be around him; your walls are warm around his tongue, and there’s a pressure against the muscle that tells him how good it’d feel for his cock to take its place. as if to simulate his desires, he presses his tongue deeper in, fucks you shallowly with its wetness until your whimpers become little sobs, broken and choked back. his thumb drags across your slit then settles against your clit, and he can feel the thrum of your pulse against the pad of his finger, beckoning him. he complies, easily, thumb tracing circles around the nub that start off slow, only for him to ramp up the pace alongside his tongue.
you’re easily at fault for that; the way you whine for him, call him senpai, tell him how good it feels over and over — why wouldn’t he want more of you?
he’s not sure which of you really earns the sweet reward today; you cum on his tongue, your cunt trembling against his mouth and your fingers threaded into his hair, but he’s the one who comes out licking his lips like he’s had the best treat of his damn life.
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come the middle of next week, suguru finds himself face to face with a test paper — one already clearly marked, with a number circled on the top-right corner. ninety. a stellar grade for anyone, and especially for you. 
you know it, and you look absolutely triumphant; you’re practically shining as you perch on your little dining table, your perfectly manicured finger jabbing at the score in emphasis. 
“flying colors, wouldn’t you say?” 
“color me impressed,” suguru replies smoothly, a genuine smile of pride tugging at his lips; he turns the page over, scanning your responses. you still draw your parabolas a little on the small side, making them a bit difficult to discern, and you’ve still got the habit of not rounding your answers up, but this is tremendous work, and he’ll be the first to praise you for it. “your dad must be filled to the brim with joy now, right?”
“i haven’t told him yet. you were the first.”
“well, i’m proud of you, sweetheart.” 
“proud enough to give me a reward?” 
he looks down at you in feigned thoughtfulness. here you sit, back in your little tennis skirt, looking up at him with hopeful eyes under those long, curled lashes. for someone who spent the first half of this semester acting ostensibly nonchalant, you’d very easily shown your true colors soon after — not that he really minds. in fact, he’s taken a decided kind of liking to how eager and willing you’ve come to be. 
“we’ve only just started our session, though,” he hums out, an idle thumb grazing his chin as he watches your expression turn from bright to cloudy, the beginnings of strategy darkening your gaze. it’s not like he wants to say no; he has no real intention to. but seeing you squirm in want makes him feel good about his decision to hold out a little longer — never mind the ache in his cock even then. “don’t we usually leave the rewards for a later time?” 
“i was thinking — since it’s the start of a new lesson —” 
“we wouldn’t want you falling behind from the start, would we?”
“i promise i won’t,” you pout. “i promise i’ll put in my best effort next time.” 
“next time? sweetheart, don’t tell me you’re thinking to get off scot-free today…” suguru trails off, his hand falling to the nearest surface it can reach — which, logic seems to dictate, is your soft, milky thigh. he feels you tense under his palm, and he bites back a smile, keeping his expression level. “i just don’t know.”
your small hands grip at the front of his shirt, and he hears you, for the first time, doing something he’s always wanted to hear you do. 
“please, senpai?”
how could he say no to you? he hadn’t really planned on it, had only wanted to see you do this, but it’s still too much and beyond his expectation — your misty gaze, your quivering lip. it’s almost laughable that you don’t think he’d notice the way you shift yourself so that his hand, still warm against your thigh, slides up your skin, the hem of your skirt bunched up in the junction between his thumb and forefinger.
suguru chuckles — isn’t this exactly where and how he’s always wanted you? “how could you ask me like that and expect me to refuse, angel? in that case, i have no real choice but to dedicate all our time today to your reward.” 
your breathing hitches — in anticipation, in desire, in excitement — as his hand continues its trail upward, deliberately now, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. his head dips down, rests into the crook of your neck, and he inhales the thick, sweet scent of your perfume, your shampoo, of you and all that he’ll take from you. 
“just remember, you asked for this,” he murmurs against your skin. “so i’m going to take every bit of you until there’s nothing left for anyone else.” 
you’re so willing, so ready even before he can get his full bearings; your hips are rising slightly off the table, and suguru feels like it’s you that’s telling him to move faster. he tugs down your panties, letting gravity take its course until they’re a tiny puddle of fabric on the floor, and he slots himself between your legs. like this, you have no choice but to spread, and you do so without hesitation, your knees locking against his sides as he pulls you in for a tight, hungry kiss. there’s that taste of you he loves, that clean, sweet buzz that draws him in, and his hands are bruisingly tight on your waist as he reclaims your lips. 
you already look dazed when he pulls away, which is always cute, but a little unfair — suguru wants you to be aware still when he takes you, and damn, if he doesn’t want to take you right fucking now. he kisses you again, harder and more demanding, as if willing your attention back to him, while his hands explore you — run up your thighs, fingers brushing against the plush curve of your ass. it’s not enough, not by a long shot, and he’s pushing the waistline of your skirt up your stomach with his hands, letting his warmth transfer onto your skin; he chuckles as your stomach sucks inward at his touch, just as you let out a gasp against his lips.
and he wants desperately to hear that noise again; in fact, he wants to know what you sound like in every capacity. his mouth works down your neck, pleased to find that suckling wet and languid on a spot just above your collarbone has you writhing and whimpering. are you sensitive or touch-starved? whatever the reason, he wants to draw all of that out of you, his hands drawing back down to hook under your thighs. suguru drags you to the edge of the table, until your bare cunt is flush against the front of his jeans, and he lets you feel him — a brief tease of what’s to come. 
“i’m s—so wet already,” you whisper, as if he doesn’t know — as if you know it’s exactly what he wants to hear anyway. “senpai, please, i need you.”
“not that,” he murmurs, his teeth grazing your collarbone as he speaks. “not senpai. suguru. call me suguru, angel.”
“s—suguru,” you exhale shakily, and it’s music to his ears — as if the last thing holding him back from you had shattered. 
“that’s it — what a good girl,” he purrs, his hips rocking forward against your pussy before they retract, leaving just enough space for his hand to slip between. slender fingers trail down your folds, sticky and slick. “you are all wet for me, aren’t you? ready to take me deep inside?” 
even the way you nod, a tiny movement of assent, drives him wild, yet a part of him still wants to test the limit of your patience, his middle finger stretching to circle your entrance. 
“wouldn’t want to shock your tiny little pussy, though, would i? will you let me stretch you out first, kitten?”
“yes,” you mewl, sounding almost tearful. “anything— anything, please.”
suguru drinks in the long, drawn-out keen you set free when his digit sinks into you; he’s already felt your walls against his tongue, but a small part of him is still surprised at just how tight you are. that same part nags that he might not fit easily into you, but whatever that voice is is easily drowned out by a more assertive promise — he’ll make it fit. 
“can’t tell you how much i’ve wanted to feel your pretty little hole around my cock,” he presses on, his finger pushing deeper in; he feels you tense a delicious kind of tightness, as if it’s almost too much for you. is it? “ever since that first day you came into the tutoring center, dressed up all cute — did you do that on purpose, sweetheart?”
“yes,” you admit, breathless; the syllable is lengthened into a weak moan as suguru pumps his finger into you, slow, deep strokes that tease your tacky walls open. “wanted — wanted to make a good impression…”
“and you did, didn’t you? kept looking so sweet for me, so pretty every single time — got me thinking about all the ways i wanted to have you. got me so fucking hard every time we’d meet — is that what you wanted?”
suguru doesn’t give you much room to respond, but he can make his own answers to appease himself anyway; he reclaims your lips, already eager for another taste of you, and you comply with the same amount of desire, your soft whimpers melting against his teeth. in the space of pseudo silence, wet, messy noises, he manages to tease another digit into you, and you cry out against his lips as it pushes in, joining the first in how deep it reaches. he absorbs that too, takes in every minute sound you make, relishes the way you pulse around his fingers. even without the noises, he can tell your pleasure’s heightening, with the way you clench around him, your hips rocking pitifully as you’re eager to rut against his palm. 
“look at you now.” he’s selfish, but he doesn’t care — he wants to ruin you, and if the telltale squelch of your cunt as he fucks his fingers into it isn’t indication enough, then the way your mouth hangs open as he pulls away, letting his name fall freely from your lips, definitely is. “legs spread, all desperate to feel good for me. what a needy little kitten you are. this good enough for you, angel?”
you shake your head, only to squeal as he pulls you closer, his fingers shoving deeper into you; your hips are re-angled, allowing him to brush the pads of his digits against the rough, sweet spot, and he feels triumph bloom in his chest as you throw your head back, teary eyes squeezed shut.
“no, no, no,” you babble, and he can see the bob of your throat as you swallow hard, clutching at sense to make words. “want — need your cock, want to cum on your cock so badly, suguru — want you to fuck me, stretch me open, please —”
“greedy, aren’t you?” he murmurs, leaning in to nip at the spot he’d left reddened above your collarbone. “go on then — show me how much you want it. show me what a good girl you are, and cum on my fingers.” 
“but—” 
“come on, angel,” he urges above the squelching noises, increasing surely in volume. his fingers meet resistance when they spread apart inside you, but all it does is create a delicious friction that has you squirming in his hold. “don’t hold back. let me see you fall apart.” 
and you do, so prettily, your eyes rolling back and your voice unrestrained. suguru’s fingers ride you through your orgasm, pumping deep and steady despite how slick you’ve gotten, your juices coating his hand and wrist. he watches the flush rise to your neck, stopping at your cheeks, watches the heaving of your chest, the shine of your skin from a thin sheen of sweat, and he doesn’t want to let you come down from this high, but his cock is aching — practically bursting from his jeans — and all he can do is make the silent vow that the next time you look like this, he’ll be balls deep in you. 
“that’s my girl,” he coos gently, watching the tension slip from your shoulders; his free hand is at the small of your back quickly, easing you down as your torso falls back, and you’re laying on the table. “pretty little thing, aren’t you? cumming so sweetly for me.” 
“suguru,” you groan out weakly, your tiny hand clasping around his wrist. “cock — i want your cock, please—” 
“can’t wait?” he’s indecent for sounding amused, but even that does nothing to stay his arousal; how eager you are simply makes him want you all the more. “okay, angel — since you asked so nicely.” 
a slight twinge of disappointment runs through him as he pulls his fingers out, but it’s quickly buried by the feeling he gets once he gives you a clear sweep of a once-over; how slutty you look, still half-dressed but already half-ruined, your thighs shaking in an effort to keep them open for him, the remnants of your last climax still leaking out of your hole. the sight of you has him so distracted that unbuttoning and unzipping his pants feels like a fever dream of an act; he barely notices what he’s doing until he’s already bare in front of you, and alertness has crawled halfway back into your consciousness as you push yourself up on your elbows to look at him.
“it’s so—” you have the decency to blush, though there’s a pleased look on your face that tells him you’re not really embarrassed. “i didn’t think you’d be this big.” 
“does that worry you?”
“i’ve never had anyone… this big.” pride blooms in his chest — good, he thinks, because if he can’t be as memorable as your first, then he’ll take being the most in something as a prize. “i don’t think — will it fit?”
“does it matter?” he chuckles, and your blush deepens. “no matter what — you’ll take all of me in, won’t you?”
you chew on your bottom lip, as if considering your options, but to suguru, there’s really only one choice — the correct one, and you make it when you nod your head. 
“it’ll feel good, though, you know,” he muses. his hand wrapped around his base, he lines himself up with you, the tip grazing against your folds. “even better than just now.”
with just a little more pressure, he has his shaft flush against you; his girth sits against your slit, the tip pressed against your clit, and he starts to rock his hips — into his fist, against your cunt. your hips quiver, and a shiver runs through you as your pleasure spikes again, but he can tell it isn’t enough. your bottom lip is back between your teeth, and your eyes are flitting between his face and his cock. suguru reaches out, eases your lip out from between your teeth, strokes it gently, almost tenderly. 
“say it,” he commands in a soft, silky voice. 
“fuck me, suguru,” you breathe out, barely missing a beat. “fuck me, fuck my pussy, please.”
and if you ask that desperately, he’ll waste no time; he draws his hips back, dragging his cock down until he’s aligned with your entrance. his eyes are trained on your face, even when he pushes in, so that he can take in your expression — the widening of your eyes as his tip breaches the first wave of resistance, the way your mouth falls agape as his fingers dig hard into your flesh. he’s never seen a prettier sight in his life.
“stretched you out already, but you’re still so fucking tight,” his voice is a soft, melodious croon, a stark contrast to the way he’s forcing past your tightness. “tight and wet, like a good girl.” 
“so big,” you whimper, your fingers stretched far enough to tickle the front of his shirt. “can’t — can’t take it.” 
“of course you can, angel.” suguru doesn’t give you the time to brace yourself fully before he’s rocking his hips in a little more sharply, his cock now halfway into you. your fingers curl into a little fist, immediately flying back to block the noise from your mouth. “ah ah. don’t get shy on me now; you’ve been so noisy for me all this time.”
but he doesn’t really mind the way you clap your palm over your mouth to muffle your high-pitched squeal as he thrusts in fully, the adjustment period after the last movement close to nothing; he’s too busy focusing on how good you feel around him, how warm and wet your insides are. this is heaven, easily, and suguru wants to stay here for as long as he can. 
“god, you’re fucking tight,” he repeats, an appreciatory gaze running over where you’re joined. his thumb stretches over your folds, rubbing them — something of an apology, perhaps, although all it does is stimulate you more, and you shiver at the extra contact. “how deep is it, baby?”
“can feel you here,” you mumble out, your small hand pressing just above your pelvis. he feels the tightness multiply as you place pressure, even just for a moment. “your cock’s so much deeper than anyone else.” 
your hand falls away, limp, as he draws his hips back; you inhale, long and deep, before letting it out as a broken moan when he pushes back in. it drives him crazy, to start off this slow, when all he wants is to find a pace that has you sobbing, but the resistance of your pussy against his length isn’t easy to ignore. suguru works you open, his jaw set and his grip tight against your frame, and it isn’t long before he’s picking up speed, the slap of his flesh against yours fueling him exponentially, mingling with your cries, steadily increasing in volume. 
“that’s it. let everyone hear you,” he eggs on, his thumb now circling tight around your clit; your legs are quivering, threatening to close, but he keeps you steady, one arm wrapped around your thigh. his thrusts grow rougher, more deliberate, and when he looks up from where you’re joined back to your face, he sees your expression as a mixture of incredulity and ecstasy. a thin line of drool hangs from the corner of your mouth, your pretty pink lip gloss smeared, and fuck if he doesn’t want to make sure you look like this every single time he comes over. “let them know who’s fucking you good, angel.”
“su— suguru!” your voice hitches, lilts up as he presses in at a different, deeper angle, and he almost cums right then and there from the way your walls pulse around him. “your cock feels so good, fucking me just right— more, god, more—” 
he complies without hesitation, gathering both your thighs and pushing them closer to your chest; you look even lewder like this, folded in half with your sopping cunt presented to him like it’s all his to take, and it is, isn’t it? there’s an increase in the intensity, the vigor in which he pumps his cock into you, and he knows he’s brushing repeatedly against your spot by the way you’re blubbering his name out in a way that suggests you sincerely think no one else in this building can hear you. 
“that’s my girl,” he hums approvingly, though there’s a thickness in his voice that has him sounding a little more strained. “such a good girl, with your cunt all nice and sloppy for me. do you like it when i go this deep? does it feel good when i fuck you where no one else can?” 
“yes!” you sob out, your hands crumpling the end of your skirt up into tight fists. “suguru, i— cum, i need to cum again, please—”
“i’ve got you, kitten,” his tone is reassuring, a stark contrast to the rigor of his hips. “don’t have to hang on for me, you know; always love seeing you fall apart.” 
“m’close, so close, closecloseclose—” 
“let go, then,” he urges, his blunt nails digging into your flesh. “let me feel that sweet cunt cum on my cock.” 
you comply without hesitation, though if you’d done it willingly, he can’t really tell; he has to pin your hips down to stop you from bucking up and causing him to slip out, and you writhe against him as you sob in ecstasy, your walls fluttering before they clench. stray tears leak from your eyes, squeezed shut, and suguru wants nothing more than to eat you up like this — broken, fucked out. 
you’re not even fully down from your high when he feels it — that sudden wrenching in his gut that tells him he’s about to follow suit. with a low groan, he peels your thighs apart again, lets you watch him as he bullies straight into your leaking hole. your voice is a staccato, punctuating every deep, sharp thrust into you, and it’s exactly to that melody that he wants to get off. 
“tell me where you want it, angel.” he doesn’t trust his voice, sharp and short as it is now. “should i mark your pretty face? your stomach?”
“want it against my pussy,” you whisper out, and suguru almost loses his mind as he watches you spread your folds apart with your forefinger and middle finger, inviting him. “make a mess of it, senpai.”
he’s barely able to pull out before he’s spilling against you; he ruts against your slit, coating your folds and the insides of your thighs in thick, creamy white. you hold your legs apart for as long as you can until they start to tremble, and he catches them and gently eases them down. 
when you sit up to kiss him, you’re still demanding; he feels your hips rock closer, your sticky cunt pressing against the underside of his cock.
“not enough,” you murmur against his lips, and suguru chuckles as you bind your hands around his neck. 
“don’t worry, kitten,” he hums back. “we’ve got all afternoon.”
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atrwriting · 4 months
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games and other fun — rafe cameron x reader
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HAPPY NYE FUCKERS HERES A TOXIC MAN THAT SHOULD DEFINITELY BE LEFT IN 2024 BUT NOT ON THIS BLOG HAHA
this is the hottest rafe scene and if you disagree i think ur silly
as always, warnings: smut, daddy kink, choking, slapping, dom!rafe, alcohol consumption, p in v sex, unprotected sex (please for the love of god wrap it), talk of drugs
anyways… here’s games and other fun:
the summer you got hot was coincidentally the same summer you moved to the outerbanks.
the climate was hotter than back hot, but… so were the men.
you and your friends had moved for the new adventure, and thankfully you had found a job in your field pretty quickly. while your friends looked for jobs in their field, they acquired jobs at some of the restaurants, bars, and catering gigs in town.
that was how your best friend met topper.
when she first told you the story, the blush on her cheeks had never been brighter. him and his buddies had been out that night — at the bar she worked at. almost immediately, topper started flirting with her. she claims she played it cool, but from her giggling you can tell that she was excited to talk to him as he was to talk to her. you were so, so happy for her.
…until she mentioned how he had a friend.
“absolutely not,” you stated, shaking your head,
“why not?!” she demanded. “the friend said you were cute!”
you raised an eyebrow at her. “you showed him my picture?”
she nodded. “he was cute! i swear!”
you sighed. “what’s his name?”
“kelce.” a mischievous smile began to play at her lips. “him and topper want to meet us at a party their other friend is throwing this weekend.”
“did you meet that friend?” you asked. “do you think he’d be cool with us coming?”
she dismissed you with a playful wave of her hand. “rafe’s a kook. they wouldn’t be kooks if they didn’t show off their wealth to the whole island.”
you laughed. “okay, fine — i’ll go, but who the fuck names their kid rafe?”
only the richest man on the entire fucking island did, apparently.
you were excited to meet kelce, but you couldn’t help but be curious as to who exactly rafe cameron was. your friend didn’t meet him, neither of you looked him up, but then again — there was a double date to prepare for.
your best friend had gotten ready together after the work day. bikins under levi cutoff shorts, crop tops, and sandals were sported, but the main event was how somehow you both mastered the beachy blowout and natural makeup look in this humidity. once you were done, you both caught an uber and headed straight for the cameron residence.
it was fucking massive.
there was no other word.
and, honestly… it was like something out of project x.
strobe lights, music blasting, and loud laughter and screams. your best friend was more of the partier, so she didn’t look too phased — but you? you were fucking bright-eyed. you hadn’t experienced anything like this before, and even if the date didn’t work out… at least there would be other things to occupy you.
once the uber had parked in front, you spotted a man waiting on the front stoop with his phone in his hands. your friend typed a quick text, hit sent, and through the window you watch the man on the front stoop smile.
place your bets now, you thought. that’s definitely topper.
and that he was.
when you both had met him on the front stoop, he engulfed your friend in a cute hug. afterwards, he extended a smile and his hand to you, and you shook his hand appreciatively.
a man that knew boundaries and manners… fuck yes, bestie.
he led you both inside and you had to stop your jaw from dropping. the party looked crazy from the outside, but nothing could compare to the absolute mayhem that was occurring inside. pong, lines being cut on a few tables, people jumping into the pool from the roof… you name it.
“this is awesome,” you spoke absentmindedly to no one in particular.
“i know,” topped laughed. “kelce’s around here somewhere... drinks?”
he led you both to the kitchen. if you were being honest, you knew that topper and your friend would hit it off pretty quickly and you didn’t want to cock-block them. you were hoping that kelce would find his way to you so you both could have your own fun, and leave your friends to their own devices.
…that was until topper started trying to call kelce over. topper, a bit drunk at this point, didn’t really get the memo from his friend that was turned around, basically back into the corner… that kelce did not want to be disturbed. in fact, when kelce finally got the message, he ripped away from whatever had caught his attention, and turned towards topper’s voice angrily. when he turned away… there was a petite woman pushed into the corner. she seemed very pissed off that kelce had broken their kiss.
who could blame her? he was hot.
no one could blame you for being a little upset, but you wouldn’t tell anyone that.
topper was at a loss for words. you almost felt bad.
letting the liquor provide comic relief, you spoke, “she’s hot. can’t blame him.”
topper laughed and then stuttered, trying to find the words to fight the embarrassment of the situation. even drunk, his manners were impeccable. his and your friend’s eyes revealed a mixture of guilty and sympathy, and you couldn’t deal with how uncomfortable it made you feel. your first instinct was to pretend it didn’t bother you… and if other people ignored your pain, you could too. it gnawed at you in the back of your throat — a rock lodged in your esophagus. your voice was tight, your cheeks were hot, and frustrated and embarrassed tears were pickling at your eyes.
“guys, don’t worry about it,” you laughed, trying to brush it off. “top, where’s the bathroom?”
maybe you couldn’t save yourself from embarrassment, but you could save them from secondhand embarrassment. once he directed you, you gave them both a smile and set off.
if you were being honest… it did hurt that had happened. it was fucking embarrassing. nothing horrible, but combined with having drank in a while, and you were already tipsy? you were feeling emotional, and that wasn’t a good luck. you needed a few minutes in the bathroom to cool off.
you texted your friend that you were going to find the pool after and that she shouldn’t wait up for you — you wanted her to have fun with topper.
you were barely in the bathroom for a few minutes when you heard banging on the door.
“hurry up!” a gruff voice from the other side of the door called.
you shut the water off and brushed away the loose tear. your eyes were red, and your face was a bit puffy, but you figured you’d be fine. you’d probably never see the guy on the other side of the door anyway.
as you opened the door, he went to bang on it again. with his weight forward, he accidentally stumbled into the bathroom while you were still in it.
“sorry, dude, uh —“ he rasped, standing before you and staring awkwardly down at you.
“you’re good…” you spoke, before trying to brush past him.
he caught your upper arm.
“woah, dude,” you laughed hesitantly, trying to step away from him. “i’m leaving, don’t worry.”
“sorry —“ he let go of your arm, still peering down at you. “you’re crying.”
“what? no,” you faked a laugh. “heat got to me s’all. needed some air.”
he eyed you. “never seen you before. not from around here?”
“no,” you shook your head. “my friend and i were invited.”
“by who?” he asked, raising a brow.
you took a step back, not particularly enjoying the third degree in a small space. “this guy she likes… topper.”
his eyes widened, almost in realization. “yeah, yeah… he told me about that. said there was another girl… for kelce.”
you laughed, but with a slight scoff in your voice. “he’s a bit… preoccupied at the moment. with someone else. i was going to go play pong after i… saw.”
“knew he had a pretty girl coming, and did that? guy’s a dick.”
you laughed, and shook your head — brushing off his comment. “‘m sure he’s fine. i don’t know who his friends are — not really in the mood to talk shit about someone i don’t know.”
“sweetheart, he’s one of my best friends — guy’s a dick.”
a smile played at your lips as you raised an eyebrow at the man. “and who are you?”
“the owner of this house,” he replied. “i’m rafe.”
you smiled, and introduced yourself as well. “i’ll, um — leave you to it, then. see you around.”
you turned to leave, when you heard him say your name. while peering down at you, he spoke, “nah… let’s mess with him.”
you shouldn’t have been excited… but you couldn’t deny that you were.
rafe led you back into the kitchen and you smiled at your friend. topper turned to look at you, and his eyes immediately perked up when he saw rafe walking directly behind you.
you greeted them both, but barely before rafe had picked you up by the hips and placed you on the counter next to your friend. you bit back a squeal at the motion, but rafe had leaned against your side as he cracked a beer.
topper turned to you. “i don’t know how you found him, or how you got him out of the woodwork… but the man barely comes to his own parties. nice job.”
you laughed, and let topper and your friend continue their fun.
“so…” you began, turning to rafe. “if you don’t come to your own parties, how do you have fun at things like this?”
a smirk played at the corner of his lips. “they’ve been kind of boring for me, lately, i don’t know… i’m usually in the corner somewhere, smoking.”
sarcastically, with a grin, you asked, “are you telling me i can’t convince you to be my pong partner?”
he laughed, shaking his head. “you could convince me to do a shot with you.”
mischief danced in your eyes. rafe was quick to notice, and the look in his eyes matched yours.
he immediately went for glasses and liquor.
“and you got him to lay off the snow?” asked topper, mouth wide. he looked back to your best friend, grinning. “you’re both coming to the next one.”
rafe poured four shots and handed them off to topper and your best friend. they smiled and laughed to themselves before linking arms, and taking their shots.
“i like to take mine a different way,” rafe rasped, eyes peering down at your lips. “especially since my boy kelce has been staring us down since i put you on this counter.”
a smirk was beginning to form on your lips. in a sultry voice, you asked, “are you suggesting we give your friend a show, rafe?”
you stared into his piercing eyes before he spoke. his lips were parted, and he almost looked hungry. the heat was getting to the both of you making a shiny sheen of sweat glow because of the strobe lights. his eyes were focused on you, and really on you. it threw you off how rafe could have so many things going on around him, barely knowing you — and you were the apple of his eye. the next words rolled off his tongue like sugar, “that’s exactly what i’m suggesting, sweetheart.”
your teeth sank into your bottom lip as a blush rose across your cheeks. with a boldness you were a stranger to, you lifted your shirt above your head to reveal your string black bikini that barely hid your chest.
you figured rafe was lying about kelce — but that was until you saw him and the girl separate, and were now closer to where you and rafe stood. kelce had thrown a few glances your way every now and then, but now? now he was blatantly ignoring the girl next to him as he stared at your rack and rafe.
you threw back your shot, bending your chest towards rafe. you looked back to him with a smile on your face, and plucked his shot from his hands. holding your beasts together and placing the glass in your cleavage, you threw him a wink. rafe’s gaze darkened — and you knew you were in for it.
rafe rested a hand on your waist before he dipped his head lower. his lips wrapped around the circumference of the glass, and threw his head back with ease. your eyes drifted downwards to his broad shoulders, the thickness of his neck, and the muscles in his arms….
oh… you were in for it, alright.
before you knew it, rafe placed his glass down and connected his lips with yours. a whine of surprise rose and died in your throat after rafe placed both of his large hands on the warm skin of your waist. you held rafe’s strong jaw in both of your hands as you kissed him back, letting your tongue dance at his bottom lip.
“you’ve been too sweet to me tonight,” you whispered against his lips. “when are you going to let me be sweet to you?”
“fuck…” he rasped, stealing another kiss. “as soon as i know kelce knows what he missed out on.”
you laughed. “he’s been staring, rafe, come on…”
rafe had wrapped his arms under your ass and hoisted you against his chest. your hair cascaded down around you both, shielding the rest of the party goers for how your lips couldn’t leave his.
“if my dick wasn’t so hard right now — i’d shove it in his face more,” rafe spat. “teach that prick a lesson about how he should treat a beautiful woman.”
you giggled against his lips. “another time — please, rafe. i need you.”
a deep growl went off in his chest, and he let you swallow it whole. rafe kissed you once more before he swung you over his shoulder, one hand firmly planted on your ass to keep you steady, and began walking towards the upstairs.
laughing, you raised your heard to wave goodbye to topper and your best friend — who were laughing and happy for you as they waved back.
with each step towards an empty room, you giggled at rafe as he was cursing at people who got in his way. he kicked a couple of people out of the room before he let you fall onto your back on the bed. your giggles died within you as he began to crawl over you.
“what if i wanted to ride you, baby?” you whispered, running a thumb along his cheek as you bit your lip.
he kissed the inside of your hand as his eyes never left yours. “no, sweetheart — never had such a sexy woman below me. i’m taking my fuckin’ time.”
“taking your time?” you asked. “you’re the host of the party.”
“fuck ‘em,” he spat, capturing your lips once more.
rafe’s movements were much more dominant than in the kitchen. the privacy of the four walls and closed door allowed him to cage your body in and wedge the front of his hips against yours. you hooked your ankles behind his lower back, pulling him into you with a grinding motion. little whimpers left your lips as the friction from your jeans hit your clit in the perfect motion, making you shiver in rafe’s arms.
“want those pants off, daddy,” you rasped. “don’t make me wait.”
“call me that again and i’ll give you anything you want, sweetheart,” he spoke, his hands immediately darting for his belt buckle.
you tore off your and rafe’s pants and rafe made quick work of taking that skimpy bikini off your breasts.
“i almost told you no when you asked to go upstairs,” he spoke, his hands slowly sliding up your stomach. “i wanted to make kelce so fucking jealous…” the palms of rafe’s hands rested on the swell of your breasts, thumbs drawing circles on your nipples. “wanted him to realize that the chick next to him had nothin’ on you… that i was the one to have you… wanted to see the realization in his eyes….” his thumbs and pointer fingers began rolling your sensitive buds in between each other, drawing sharp breaths from between your lips. “but i think you were right, sweetheart. don’t want anyone to see what’s mine.”
“yours?” you let the pads of your fingertips slide down the length of his chest and stomach. you kept your eyes locked on his, provoking him. “no man’s ever been able to make me cum before. what makes you think you’re different?”
he raised an eyebrow, darkness covering his irises. he was silent for a moment, studying you. you kept your baiting look on your face, but inside you grew worried.
rafe’s hand held your jaw in his, thumb prodding at your plump bottom lip. “gonna be a brat for me, that it?”
you shouldn’t have — but you did anyway. “and what’re you gonna do about it?”
an evil smile crept up on rafe’s perfect face. he let go of your chin and got off of you. you were curious as to what his goal was, but that was until he got himself between your legs. you laid back against the bed, and when you looked up — you realized there was a mirror on the ceiling.
you gasped at the sight. your hair was as crazy as your skin was flush. your eyes were as wild as rafe’s, and he stared back at you with darkness and lust all wrapped into one.
“you see that, sweetheart?” he asked, staring back at you. “sight that almost made me take you right there in the kitchen. you gonna be good for daddy, and let me show you how i’m better than all of those little boys?”
your teeth sank into your bottom lip as your cheeks blushed. “yes, daddy, please.”
“so polite,” he rasps, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. a whine brews in your throat at the affection. “open your legs. let me see that pretty pussy.”
on command, you parted your legs for him. rafe slid one large hand down from your knee to the beginning of your tanned thigh. you watch as his hand cups your mound, and you shiver at the feeling.
“oh… just so soft for me…”
his voice was like caramel as it rolled of his tongue. smooth and sweet. he looked at your pussy like he fucking adored it, there was no other way to put it. when his head finally dipped and his tongue nudged itself at your clit, you leaned your head back against the pillows.
“you like to hide, huh?” he spoke, eyes wide at you as his tongue dripped in between your folds. “not tonight, darlin’. you’re watching me.”
you lifted your head up and watched as his tongue slid into your entrance, and rafe began to nudge your clit with his nose. you gasped at the feeling — completely unaware that was even a thing someone could do, let alone be good at.
“fuck…” you quietly gasped, folding your lips over each other.
rafe replaced his tongue with two fingers — sliding them in and out and curling at the top. a low hum began to build as you fought to keep your eyes on him. the hum was deep and warm, filling your rib cage. you didn’t want to scream, afraid of being too loud or too much for rafe… but keeping your eyes open was enough of a fight. when his perfect, plump lips made contact with your clit… you couldn’t help it. you let out a loud sigh as your vision began to glaze over.
“i wanna do everything i can to this pussy,” rafe bit, sucking at your clit. “smack it, lick it, fuck it, anything i want… just so warm and sweet.”
“…fuck…” while only one word, your voice had never broken so much. rafe’s words were so sensual and mind numbing it was hard not to lose yourself in the moment, free to completely enjoy the sight and feeling of one of the hottest men you had ever seen put you on a pedestal and fucking worship you. his tongue, velvet, was working its way around your clit like it wanted your thighs to clench and wrap around his head. “i’m so close, rafe…”
“that’s it, baby, yeah.” the slurping sounds from below you were pornographic. your hips were jutting up and down to meet his lips and fingers as he plunged inside of you. your hands had found the sides of his head, sad there wasn’t any hair to hold back. “you wanted to be a brat before, now what? blame all of those little boys? now look at you — too fucked out to care. dirty fuckin’ girl.”
he was right. your boldness had left you with your sanity. the low hum had now spread throughout your body until it was everywhere. a soft, quiet vibration could be felt in every one of your limbs until you sure you were shaking. a cocky bastard like rafe — you should’ve wanted to deny him your orgasm, the metaphorical trophy. however, every fiber in your being was telling you he deserved it. his tongue, his lips, his nose, his fingers, his eyes — they wanted you to finish all over his face, and they deserved it. every last drop. every bit of it. every. fucking. bit.
“you scared, baby? don’t get shy on me now.” he had now raised his face where now only his hand was on your pussy. with a concerned, focused look on his face, he dipped two fingers into your entrance as his rough palm was working your clit. “you want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”
you shut your eyes for a little longer than you should’ve, but opened them back up for tears to collect in the corners of your eyes. the approach of an orgasm was like a current in water, sucking you under. there was no fight and there was no giving in. it was heavy, fast, and hard — drowning where you head had no chance of staying above water. your body was being pulled every which way as your brain fought to remain present, in control. through your glazed over eyes, you could see rafe smirk.
“oh — i don’t think my girl’s listening to me, is she?” his taunting voice was sending you up a wall. the rat bastard — making you feel so good and then demanding that you respond as if your mind wasn’t mush. he moved himself so he was now hovering over your body, balanced on one arm. “i know you can hear me. come on, baby — you wanna cry? do it. fuckin’ cry for me, darlin’.”
you weren’t sure why you needed permission — but something in your insecurity snapped that allowed you to let out one singular strangled moan in your sand paper throat. it was whiny, and soft, and most of all — fucking pathetic. you could see in rafe’s eyes he loved it.
“been so good for me, letting me play with you,” he whispered against your lips as he continued with his hand. “seeing this little body give in — wanna see how far i can go. can’t wait to split you on my cock.”
“let me cum on your cock, rafe, please…” you spoke through your tears. “need it so badly. please let me…”
“can’t cum without a cock inside of you?” he asked, immediately sitting up and undoing his pants. “finally allowed yourself to be a whore and ask for what you want… lettin’ me use that pussy…”
you were nodding furiously, tugging at him to come lay on top of you once more. he batted your hands away, confusing you.
“nah, lay back,” he spoke. “…because i know you want me to use that pussy, don’t you?”
“yes, yes,” you cried, voice breaking. “just want you to use me — fuck, please, rafe…”
there was that smirk again — before he dove in.
rafe had pushed your legs against your chest and held you there as his cock slid easily inside you. since you were denied a very close orgasm — your pussy had never been wetter. it was like your slick was causing him to slide further and further inside so he could be buried in there. with every thrust, your pussy tightened around him — and rafe let you know.
you stared up at the mirror on the ceiling as you watched rafe’s muscles flex. his shoulders and back — holding you down, making you take every thrust. watching his glutes tighten and release with every thrust sent shivers up and down your spine. however, nothing, not one single thing, could compare to the way rafe’s arms flexed around your head and body — holding you in place.
“fucking love your cock, daddy,” you whimpered in his ear. “so, so deep. feels so good it hurts.”
he groaned against your ear, straining to fight against the pleasure. his thrusts began to pick up strength and speed, refusing to give in before you do.
“can tell it hurts, baby — pussy sucking me in like she’s never cum before,” he gasped, his own voice threatening to break. “just needed someone that knew how to work you, huh? give you what you needed? fuck you like the slut you are?”
you dug your face into the crook of his neck, feeling lost in his words and embrace. “slut for your cock, daddy — fuck, just like that. just like that — right there!”
one of his hands reached up to grab a fistful of your hair, and yanked you back. with parted lips and gritted teeth, rafe forced himself against your throat and began to suck on the soft skin. the strain of the position took away what last bit of control you had. you were completely at rafe’s mercy — and you didn’t mind. the head of his cock was pounding against that spot inside of you. your brain and the lower half of your body were working in tandem — acting like they had never had an orgasm before, but that wasn’t the case. no — they had just never had an orgasm like this before. the kind where you are completely out of control, unable to get it back, and under the hands of a man who took such good care of you. maybe you should’ve been scared because you barely knew him, but you weren’t. he wanted your orgasm as much as you did — and you let your naivety get the best of you.
“never wanted to breed a pussy so fuckin’ badly,” he spat against the skin of your throat. “she wants my cum so badly, doesn’t she? sucking me in — what else?”
incoherent. that’s all you were. rafe’s hips smacking against yours, cock hitting just right — there was nothing that allowed you to stay present and sensible in that situation. you were all his, under his control.
“be mean,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut. “be mean to me — and i’ll cum. fucking christ — please.”
“pussy like this, dirty as you are —“ he spoke, trying to fight his own orgasm. “no one should touch you but me. i own this pussy. me. no one can fuck you like me, that right?”
it was like music to your ears. your pussy was being split open and fucked raw — so dirty, so naughty, so wrong. yet, you were both grasping onto each other like there’s was nothing else in the world. rafe was working his cock into your pussy like your orgasm was his, and his alone. he —
he got tired of waiting for a response. he lightly smacked your cheek, and wrapped a hand around your throat.
you couldn’t be surprised — because your pussy only got wetter.
“you’re gonna fucking cum for me,” he spat against your eyes. “that’s mine. all mine.”
you caught a glance of what you looked like in the mirror above — a mess. a fucking mess. your face was covered in sweat, spit, and tears. your hair was everywhere, just like there was a flush all over your body. you saw the way rafe’s veins in his neck and forehead tightened and protruded as he spat dirty words against the side of your face.
“give it to me,” he spat through gritted teeth.
your eyes couldn’t leave the mirror. it shoved you farther and farther into your trance that you couldn’t look away. couldn’t move. couldn’t think about anything else.
“it’s yours, it’s yours…” you cried, throwing your head back.
your hands immediately came up to dig your nails into his back. your back, arched, pushed your tits into rafe’s face. his face, in awe, couldn’t help but suck a nipple into his mouth as he watched your body fucking shake. there was no more low vibration — your body, every limb, had fully succumbed to shaking and crying.
“pussy so tight,” he gasped. “fuck, fuck, fuck…”
through the mirror, you watch both of your orgasms hit you at the exact same time. with one snap of rafe’s hips, the muscles of his ass tightened where his pelvis locked with yours. his back and shoulder muscles went taut, rippling with the bout of adrenaline running through his veins. with rafe’s body holding yours down, he stopped your body from spasming. your skin was prickly to the touch as your blood was pumping, pumping, pumping. the walls of your pussy squeezed around his cock as strangled gasps pushed past your lips, and were swallowed by rafe.
against your lips, he whispered, “never letting you go now, princess.”
you giggled softly, shivering. “is that so?”
“yeah,” he mumbled, kissing you. “you’re fucked.”
- - -
happy nye here’s some smut HAHA love yall
-L xoxox
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unsolvedjarin · 6 months
Note
I was going through a Charles video that mentioned him blacking out in the car at some point. Since I’m a sucker for angst, I was wondering what it would be like for mentor!Seb if it were the reader in that situation instead. Perhaps the season before the one he retires? And maybe we could see more of the reader’s friendship with Charles? Only if you feel inspired by it, of course.
Either way, thank you for sharing your fics with us. They are my favorites and I’m really grateful for having found your blog.
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gif by luchitohamilton
EVERY UNIVERSE.
pairing: (mentor! sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader) (charles leclerc x teammate! reader)
summary: qatar is a difficult, hot, and taxing track. that along with you having food poisoning, well…that might not end too well for you. thankfully you can always rely on sebastian and charles to be there for you.
word count: 4k
note: can you guys tell i took inspo from mark webber throwing up in his car and the qatar race this year? it was so sad to watch everyone seem so tired especially lance and logan. anyways, the plot kinda got away from me at the end, i do apologize but the seb feels were too intense 😵‍💫
content warning: car crash, mentions of throwing up, inaccurate depictions of food poisoning
part of this series but can be read without!
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“Ready?”
A familiar voice makes you turn around from your pre-race preparations. “Depends on what your definition of ready is.”
Charles smiles, “I know it’s our first race in Qatar but c’mon, it isn’t that bad.”
“Isn’t that bad? I might melt in the car! Doesn’t help that I almost missed this one because of food poisoning.”
“Ah yes, how could I forget that,” he teases. He couldn’t forget it, because you’d been complaining about it endlessly for the past three days. You had food poisoning because Mark Webber invited you to lunch on Thursday, and accidentally gave you something dodgy. You’ve yet to forgive the man. “Well at least you’re starting from P4. Lets you fight for P1, no?”
“Against Lewis and Charles? Please. In my dreams, maybe. Plus, you’re starting P3, asshole.” You retort, turning back around to put your balaclava on. The second it’s on your head, though, it gets pulled off, and you look behind you for the perpetrator. “Charles give it b– SEBASTIAN!”
The Aston Martin driver gives you a grin before hugging you tightly, lifting you off the ground a bit. You didn’t expect to see him before the race, but the surprise was definitely welcome.
“Oh but if it was me I would have gotten scolded,” Charles mutters, but his complaints were left unheard.
“Just came to wish you luck before the race starts. P4! You’re going to get a podium, I’m sure of it,” Sebastian beams, letting you go from the hug.
“That’s what Charles said too. He was more delusionally optimistic, though. Said I was gonna win.”
“Because I believe in you! Is that so bad?” Charles complains from the side, his comment ignored once again.
“Well maybe Charles is right— you could win. Meanwhile I’m starting in the midfield, again.” Sebastian complains, groaning a little bit.
“Oh cheer up Seb, you survived Ferrari for 6 years, you’ll live.”
He lights up a bit at your joke, moving to say something before an Aston Martin mechanic shows up outside the Ferrari garage. He wasn’t allowed inside, but it was obvious he was looking for Sebastian– who also wasn’t allowed inside, yet mysteriously got in. Nothing to do with him being friends with your mechanics of course, yeah, totally not.
“Ah shoot, well it looks like they’re looking for me,” Sebastian sighs. He starts to walk away before he pauses and moves back towards you, “Hey, stay safe, okay? New track, it’s dangerous. I know we’ve done practice and quali but you can never be too careful. Plus, it’s sweltering hot. Hydrate.”
You roll your eyes fondly, “Yes, dad.”
His face scrunches up a little, “Don’t ever call me that again, I’m not that old.”
“You could barely work my Instagram the other day! All I asked was for you to open Lewis’ stories!”
“Psh, whatever. I have to go, see you after the race, yeah?” He asks, giving your arm a quick squeeze. You nod, murmuring a goodbye to him. He wishes Charles good luck too, before saving his engineer from the Ferrari mechanics blocking him.
“So he can pull your balaclava off– which you hate, by the way, let me remind you– but if I even try adjusting your helmet straps so it’s safer you slap me off?” Charles speaks up, making you break eye contact from the Ferrari garage doors.
You roll your eyes at him with a smile, “You have got to forget that. It was one time. And it was a soft slap to the shoulder!”
“The point still stands,” he retorts, making you give up on the conversation.
“Whatever, Charlie. Just get ready for the race. Stay safe, okay?” you say, putting your balaclava on again. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving, a sign of good luck between the two of you. It makes you smile a little before you hop into your car.
Okay. Qatar. New track, new conditions, but still the same old you. You could do this.
The lights go off one by one, and you grip the steering wheel with anticipation like you always did. Race starts still made you nervous no matter how long you’d been racing. One light goes off…then the next…then the third…the fourth one follows…and then…
“AND IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!”
The first few laps were a breeze, maintaining your position in fourth despite Fernando being on your tail the whole time. You noticed the car was slightly hotter than usual, but decided to ignore it and chalk it up to new changes in the engine.
Around lap 25 you started to feel a bit dizzy and sick during the sharp corners, cursing yourself internally for having such bad timing with the food poisoning. “Charles is 0.200 seconds ahead, feel free to overtake,” your engineer buzzes through the radio.
“Copy,” you reply, not really paying attention, still feeling sick. You overtake Charles with ease around the outside, him not putting up much of a fight because it would have taken both of you out. Now you just had to maintain this position for…dear god, 32 laps.
“Lewis 5 seconds ahead, focus on tire degradation instead.” Your engineer’s warning goes unheard, though, as you noticed the cockpit was getting way too fucking hot.
“The car’s burning up,” you say into your radio, getting only a simple “Copy, we are checking,” back.
“Okay, Y/N there are no problems with your engines, I repeat; no problem.”
What? That’s impossible. You felt like you were melting in there. “Are you sure? Can you ask Charles if his car feels like the sun too?”
“Negative, focus on the race.”
Oh you were going to kill them one day– if they don’t kill you first. A few more laps passed in those horrible conditions before turn 5 rolled around and as you swerved your car, you started to see black spots around your vision.
That can’t be good, you think, having to close your eyes for a second before shaking your head and snapping yourself back into the race. Thankfully Charles had pitted earlier and had a 3 second gap to you. “I don’t feel too well.”
“Copy. Is it the car?”
“Well it’s definitely part of the problem.”
The next few turns were torture, your head bobbing around as you faded in and out of consciousness through the fast corners. Charles was catching up now, and you knew if you didn’t do something soon, he would pass you.
You wanted this podium. You needed it. If you got P3 you would grab P4 on driver standings.
There was a slow corner coming up that was a good overtaking spot, and so you had to defend.
As the turn came around– faster than you expected– the extreme heat of the car, your headache, sweat, food poisoning, and dizziness came together and you suddenly felt light, as if you were flying, before a jolt knocked you out of your consciousness completely.
You were out for less than a minute, but that minute counted for everything. You completely turned into Charles, him having to swerve onto the gravel just so you wouldn’t crash into each other. Your car, however, still had more speed in it, and you were headed towards the wall on the very far side of the gravel.
Thankfully, the rough rocks had shook you awake enough that you were able to swerve away from the wall extremely last minute and only take the tail and back wheel of your car out.
The next few seconds were a blur.
You still felt faint, but could hear a muffled voice headed towards you. You knew the back of your car was completely ruined and you were out of the race, and you put your helmet in your hands in disappointment. You were having such a good run before this happened. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The muffled voice running towards you was closer now, and you registered it to be Charles. He was saying something but you could barely hear him with how your ears were ringing and how the seat of the car was still hot.
The man quickly realized you weren’t hearing him, and opted to come closer and lift your visor up. “Smoke. Car. Get out!”
He didn’t need to tell you twice. You pushed yourself up but barely, Charles having to lift you up by your shoulders. Once out of the car you completely collapsed on the floor, only having your teammate catch you.
“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you say drowsily, still fighting the urge to pass out.
“Safety car is coming, stay with me now,” he replies, tapping your helmet so you stay awake. You were grateful your friend was there with you.
On track, however, Sebastian had just been informed of what went down. “What the fuck? What happened?”
“L/N completely turned into Leclerc. Driver error, push on for P9.”
Sebastian hated how his engineer sounded like a robot reporting a technical statistic. He saw the aftermath of the accident for a split second, and it didn’t look like your car was in good shape. He worries about what shape you were in. “Are they okay?”
“Safety car is coming out for L/N and to crane the car, but other than that they seem fine.”
“Injuries?”
“Please focus on the race, Sebastian.”
“INJURIES!” he shouts into his radio, annoyed. He wouldn’t be able to focus on the race until he knew you were alright.
“Uh…L/N seems to be out of it and on the floor, but they’re okay. They’ll be fine, Seb.” His engineer adds the last statement to reassure the man. He knew you meant a lot to him. Seb nods to himself in the car, carrying on with the race. The faster this finished the faster he could get to you.
The safety car came out and they all slowed down, Sebastian finally being able to take a second long look at the accident. Your car was still there, the smoke coming out of it being extinguished by a personnel. Sebastian thinks he ought to have a word with the Ferrari mechanics after the race. He then notices you, on your knees in the gravel, only being kept up by a driver he can only assume to be Charles. Sebastian thinks that should be him there supporting you, but at the same time he’s glad he wasn’t the one who you nearly crashed into. He couldn’t have it on his consciousness that he could have hit you.
“‘m sorry for ruining your race,” you mumble, still being held up by Charles. The man shakes his head, “It was ruined before that, don’t worry. My engine was acting up.”
You knew he was lying to make you feel better, his engine was completely fine. He was headed for the podium earlier, his first in a while. And you completely botched his chance to get it. The thought makes you sob a little, along with the fact that you ruined your own race.
Crying wasn’t the greatest thing to do, though, as it only made you more lightheaded. Charles notices this and takes your helmet off for you, despite your protests pre-race. You were grateful that he did, though, as the second he took your helmet and balaclava off you felt like you had a breath of fresh air for the first time.
“Better?”
You nod, unable to speak. You still felt dizzy and sick. Charles felt annoyed that the safety personnel were taking so long to get to you, waving them over to walk quicker. Squinting your eyes a little, you find them with some health personnels, and you sink a little lower into the gravel.
“God not again,” you groan, remembering the events that unfolded back in Spa. You did not need to go to the medical tent. As you attempt to get up, however, you fall back down as your vision blurred. Looks like medical tent it is again.
The rest of the race went particularly well. Lewis won the race and Fernando got his first podium since 2014– which you reminded yourself to congratulate him for once you were out of the medical tent– and Seb ended up P9, a position higher than where he started. That would usually be a mediocre result but with his shitty car, you were pretty impressed.
“Water?” A familiar voice makes you look away from the TV screen in the room. Charles sat beside your bed, holding a plastic bottle of water. You nod and take it from him, chugging the cool liquid down.
“Sorry again for ruining your race,” you say as you finish drinking. Charles shakes his head, “Stop apologizing. You passed out, that was no fault of yours.”
“You passed out!?” A loud concerned voice makes both of you snap your head towards the door of the room. Sebastian stood there, still in his race suit like the both of you, a shocked look on his face.
“Is that what happened? You passed out mid race?” He asks again, but this time softer. He walks towards your medical bed– which you insisted you didn’t need– before putting his hand on your forehead to check if you had a fever. The action makes you giggle, but Sebastian had a serious look that shut you up quickly.
He shakes his head with a sigh, “You have a bit of a fever.”
“Any other fun observations?”
Sebastian didn’t seem to be in the mood for your wit, though. “You could have been injured. Just a few meters and you could have fully hit the wall. If you were just a few seconds late waking up you would have–”
He shuts his eyes and stops himself. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened anymore. His voice got wobbly during the end of his statement, making you realize that he was stopping himself from crying. You absentmindedly sit up and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.
“I’m here, Seb. And I’m fine. Look at me.”
The older driver does, slowly opening his eyes. You squeeze his hand a second time, a soft smile on your lips. “I’m here. And look, I’m completely fine. You’re not getting rid of me that quickly old man.”
Seb lets out a chuckle at that, moving to hug you tightly.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he mumbles into your hair. “Why did you even pass out?”
“I was already a little dizzy before getting in the car because of the heat but I tried ignoring it. The car was overheating too and it made me dehydrated, I think. My drink pouch wasn’t a lot of help either when the water was steaming hot. Plus…” you trail off, not really wanting to talk ill of Webber.
“Mark gave her food poisoning when he took her to lunch,” Charles butted in, making you give him a look. You forgot he was in the room.
“Mark? As in Webber?” Sebastian asks, Charles nodding in response. “The bastard.”
“Oh c’mon Seb, he just wanted to treat me to lunch. It’s not like he poisoned my food on purpose.”
Seb sighs deeply before agreeing, “You’re right. Sorry. I’m just– I don’t know.”
“I get it. I mean, this is my second time at the medical tent in three months. Makes you think how accident prone I am,” you joke. Sebastian laughs, and you’re glad you got the worried look in his face away.
“The one in Spa was completely your fault, but we may have to pin this one on Mark,” Seb teases. You shoot him a grin, “Yeah, we can say that.”
Before you could talk more, though, a PR person from both Ferrari and Aston Martin came in to fetch Charles and Sebastian.
“What about me?” you ask, getting up from your bed. It wasn’t like you were injured or anything, you were just a little sick and had a bit of a stomach ache. You’d already thrown up earlier, so you felt pretty normal now.
“Sorry, we have orders to keep you here.”
You scoff, “Please. What can they do if I walk out?”
Before the Ferrari PR agent could reply, though, you were already out the room. She stands there helpless, making Sebastian and Charles chuckle to each other before following you. You were always stubborn when you wanted to be.
The second you’re out of the medical tent, camera flashes overwhelm your eyes. You walk past them as you always do, but the contrast of the light to the night sky makes you a bit lightheaded again, having to hold Sebastian’s arm for support. He moves your hand from his arm to his own hand, interlocking it with yours and pull you through the crowd. There were no words needed to be said, he always knew what you needed. You’re starting to think he can read minds.
Once past the annoying lot of cameras, you make it to the media pen where at least they pestered you in a more civil way. The interviewers were all over you and Charles, looking for some inside scoop on ‘Ferrari drama.’ Turns out, the media thought you tried to purposely take Charles out a la brocedes style. Because of this you had to clarify to every person you talked to that, “No, I did not try to take Charles out on purpose. I passed out. We’re good. Yes, we’re still friends.”
Once that was all over, you headed over to the Channel 4 area to give a certain someone a piece of your mind. “Mark Webber.”
The man turns around to the mention of his full name, smiling when he notices who it is. “Y/N! Glad you’ve come and joined us! We’re on in about five minutes, we can do a segment about the crash but if you wanna talk about something else on screen that’s fine too, we can–”
“You gave me food poisoning!” you butt in. “I cannot believe you.” His coworkers give him a look, as if they were holding in a laugh at him being scolded.
Mark stands there with his mouth agape, unsure what to say. “Wasn’t that three days ago? Are you sure it’s me?”
Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Yes, I’m sure it’s you. It started three days ago, and guess who I was with when I ate something unusual three days ago? Oh right, it’s you!”
He pauses for a moment before bursting into laughter, trying to cover his mouth to no avail. “Sorry, it’s not funny that you almost crashed, I’m glad you’re safe, but– ha!– I cannot believe it was because of the dodgy Indian food!”
You gave him a shove, trying to act mad, but the smile on your face betrayed you. His laughter was contagious. “You are such an asshole.”
“Awh cheer up,” he gives you a side hug, ruffling your hair a little. “Sorry for giving you food poisoning, mate. I’ll make it up to you, whaddya think about lunch on me tomorrow?”
You escape his side hug when you hear him say that, “Absolutely not! I’m never trusting you again with food recommendations.”
The statement makes him laugh again, and you chuckle along with him. Hard to be mad at someone who didn’t do it on purpose. Sebastian walked over to the two of you, having watched the interaction from afar.
“Look who’s coming over,” Mark mumbled, making you notice Seb trying to pretend to just ‘bump’ into the two of you. “Still competitive ‘till now, eh? Don’t worry, I’m not trying to out-mentor you,” Mark says out loud, grabbing the attention of the German.
Seb tilts his head with a faux oblivious look, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grabs you by the arm and ‘discreetly’ pulls you over to his side. ‘No idea’ my ass.
The Australian scoffs with a grin, “Whatever you say mate. Listen, I gotta get back because our feed is going live in a few minutes, but you two take care, alright? Nice to see you again Seb.”
“You too, Mark.” Sebastian replies, this time genuinely. While the media knew the two drivers were now on good terms, they didn’t know just how close they had gotten. The two went bowling at least once every two months just to catch up with each other, you being there for half their competitions– yes, they still competed. Apparently that sense of wanting to beat your former teammate does not go away. So far this year, Mark’s been winning.
Before Mark completely walked away, he looked back at you for a second, “Oh, and, I am happy you got out injury free from that nasty crash. Genuinely glad you’re okay. Sorry that my dodgy food contributed to your sickness.”
You wave him off, “It’s fine, Mark. It’s not like you could’ve known I would get food poisoning. Although, next time maybe check online reviews.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, waving you a goodbye as he ran to his coworkers who were already getting impatient.
You shake your head with a grin, “Well at least that’s over with.”
Sebastian slings his arm around your shoulder, “True. So want to get dinner?”
“Absolutely not. I think I’m done with food for a good while.”
“Well you have to eat something,” he insists, as you both walk through the paddock. “How about we get room service?”
“Eh, it’s late, I don’t really want a repeat of Monaco 2019.”
Monaco 2019 was when you and Seb got room service at 10pm because you didn’t check the time. Safe to say the staff weren’t very happy with that. You both felt so bad while eating that food.
“We can just get McDonalds then,” you suggest.
“McDonalds?” Charles asks, popping out from god knows where.
“Jesus, where the hell were you hiding? The atoms?” You ask.
“I was here the whole time.”
“You were not,” Sebastian comments. Charles simply shrugs, tagging along with the two of you, not caring that he was obviously third wheeling a moment. “So McDonalds?”
You roll your eyes, “Yes, McDonalds. But you’re paying because you’re tagging along.”
“No fair! Sebastian is richer than me!”
You both give Charles a look at the same time. Charles thinks it’s eerie how alike the two of you were.
“Charles,” Sebastian starts, patting the Monegasque’s back with one arm with his other still slung around your shoulders. Your accident made him very clingy, but you weren’t about to tell him that. “Let me phrase this as nicely as I can; you are from Monaco. You are rich.”
Charles lets out a sigh, “Fine. I’ll buy the food.”
You clap, “Fuck yeah! Food on the rich man!”
“We have the same salary in our contracts?”
“Shh, that’s not important,” you say, shushing Charles. “Food on the rich man! Although, we may have to go to the hotel right after and just get take out. I can feel Mark’s Indian food from three days ago still fighting with me.”
Charles is the one to roll his eyes this time, “I’ll get the car so we can get there faster, your highness.”
“Thank you, Lord Perceval.”
“Don’t call me that!” he shouts, already walking away to the parking lot.
That left you and Sebastian alone again, just enjoying the company of one another, walking slowly down the paddocks. There were few people now, most having gone back to their hotels to call it a night.
“You know, I’m glad I found you.”
The words make you look up at the older driver, who you find smiling at you. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean obviously we would find each other, there’s only so many drivers in Formula One. But I mean I’m glad I found you in this life.”
“Do you think we don’t find each other in other lives?”
Sebastian pauses and thinks for a second. He’s thought about the other career paths he could have taken throughout his life– other lives he could have lived. He knows there’s no logical way, but he thinks he still would have found you in those lives. The thought makes him smile to himself.
“No, I think we do.”
“Well then good. Because me too,” you reply, giving him a smile of your own. “Why did you suddenly think about it though?”
Sebastian shrugs, “I don’t know. I just felt suddenly sentimental. Feels like a chapter of my life closed but I’m not sure what or why.”
Little did he know that he would start contemplating retirement a few weeks after that.
“Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Whether we find each other in other lifetimes, I mean.”
Seb raises his eyebrow, him now being the one confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean we’re both here now. Enjoying each other’s company. Why bother thinking about versions of ourselves in other universes when we’ve got each other in this one?”
Sebastian gives you the most genuine, softest smile at that. “I love you, I don’t tell you that enough.”
You scrunch your face, “Ew. Sounds like a love confession. Sorry but you’re too old for me.”
“You know what I mean. I love you but not in that way. That’s just gross,” Sebastian says, hitting your shoulder.
“Relax old man, I’m just teasing,” you giggle, trying to avoid his hit. “Love you too. Ew. Sorry, not great with verbal affection. Pretty sure that just made me throw up a bit, and that’s not even with the help of the food poisoning.”
Sebastian just shakes his head, “Okay c’mon now, Charles will be annoyed with how slow we’re walking.”
Later that night, the three of you watched a cheesy romcom while sharing a shit load of fries and chicken nuggets. As you carried on through the night you thought to yourself that despite the hardships of F1, the crashing, the disappointments, the injuries– it brought you a second family you never thought you’d have. And you wouldn’t trade it for any other universe.
Although, maybe a universe where you didn’t get food poisoning.
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 10 months
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Pairing : idol!Lee Minho x F!Reader TW : pregnancy ; unplanned pregnancy ; Minho is a jerk ; general angst ; fluffy ending ; Word Count : 6.3k Request : AHHH THANK YOU!! im happy that you like my request🥺🥺🥺🤍 hm bang chan would be good! he’s my bias after all HAHHAH buttt honestly speaking, i’d more than love to read about seungmin’s, minho’s or felix’s too <3 take your time!! A/N : the Minho gif came from this blog!!
Late… You were rarely ever late. You always kept track to make sure that you were on time and this month was no different. The little alerts had gone off from your calendar, and it’s not like you were under a lot of stress or anything that would cause any shifts… You were just… Late. 
The first day hadn’t exactly bothered you as much, the second day began to worry you, but now you were a week in and you still hadn’t gotten it and you were starting to panic… At least to yourself. Your boyfriend, who was usually just as on top of your monthly cycle as you were, was busy with his own schedule, making sure that he was prepared for the group's next big comeback. He didn’t have time to worry about something like this… That’s why you did your best to keep your panicking to a minimum when he was around. It’s not like you knew for certain anyway… Not yet at least. 
“Going to the store… Need anything?” You asked from the doorway, already slipping your shoes on. He was sitting on the couch, he looked so comfortable, you didn’t want to bother him by even letting him know where you were going, but you also knew that if you left without a word it would worry him. 
He looked up, running his hands through his hair as he let out a small yawn before shaking his head no. “You want me to go with you? You know that I don’t like you carrying a bunch of bags in by yourself, especially if I’m literally right here to help you do it.” He was already starting to get up off the couch, but you held your hands out, waving them at him before motioning for him to sit back down. 
“Lady things… I have to get lady things. That’s all. Just one bag.” You held up one finger, and he slowly sunk back into the couch, watching you grab the keys off the hook. He was clearly questioning you, the way you reacted, his eyebrows lowered and his eyes narrowed as he stared, and you didn’t want him to think too hard about it so you quickly ran over to him and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you, I’ll be back soon.” 
He hummed against your lips, and you felt the corners of his pull up before you pulled back, his hands firmly grasping your waist. “Love you too, babe… Be careful. Call me if you need anything… Okay?” You nodded in agreement before backing up and going back to the entryway, going back to putting on your shoes before going out the front door and taking a deep breath. You had dodged a bullet there… But there was a bigger one coming, the size of a missile, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to dodge it now. 
You sat on the edge of the bathtub, the tests lined up along the back of the toilet, all of them face down. Thankfully Minho had been called into work at the last minute, and while he had been grumpy about it, you promised him dinner when he got back home and that had made him calm down enough to not question why you were trying so hard to get to the bathroom so quickly. 
The five minutes that it said it would take on the box felt more like 30 as you watched the timer on your phone slowly countdown. Your legs were bouncing nervously and you tried to focus on literally anything but your phone and the little white sticks that would inevitably decide your future. You couldn’t be pregnant… Right? Of course, there was always the chance… And it’s not like you and Minho had used protection the last couple times that you did it. Not that the both of you were trying… But with his busy schedule, the last thing that the two of you thought of was making sure to keep things like this happening. Whenever you had the chance to be together, you both were going at it… And that’s why you were sitting where you were at right now, chewing nervously on your fingernails as the timer on your phone got to 3… 2…1…
You stopped the alarm before it could go off and flipped the sticks over. Your breath had been held the entire time, and once the sticks were turned, it felt like you were going to be sick. Bright pink double lines seemed to be staring up at you, perfectly contrasted by the bright white of the stick. This wasn’t what you wanted to see, it wasn’t what you wanted at all, at least not right now… But here it was… The answer to your question as clear as a neon sign in your shaky hands. 
Even with the tests, it took you another five minutes after staring at them to really comprehend what was going on, to truly let it set in that this was not a dream and you truly were pregnant. It’s crazy though how, you had always wanted children, it’s not like the thought of being pregnant was inherently bad for you, it’s just the fact that it was so unplanned and you weren’t sure how Minho would take it. He had never said anything against you having his children, he even seemed to get slightly excited when the prospect of it was brought up… Why were you worried? The both of you knew that you were each other’s person, there was no one else that either of you could see each other even tolerating. He’d be fine… Maybe a little bit shocked at first, but fine at the end of it all. 
The front door clicked with the undoing of the lock and then the sound of keys jingling as he pulled them from the keyhole and pushed the door open, the entire time your head had been perked up to watch him come in. 
Dinner had been prepared, the table set, the pot on the stove set to a low simmer just to keep the food hot when he came in. You wanted everything to be perfect for him, his mood would… should be just right for when you delivered the news. “Dinner smells amazing, darling.” He commented from the front landing, pulling his shoes off before falling down onto the couch beside you and immediately pulling you close to him. “Have you eaten yet?” He murmured as he hugged you tight against him, his face buried in your hair. 
“Mnn nn…” You mumbled out your answer against his chest, pulling back enough to look at him. His eyes had bags underneath, he looked tired, but other than that he seemed happy, he looked happy. “Do you want to go eat now?” You chirped, the nerves kicking in now, knowing that if you followed your own plan, you’d be telling him very soon. 
“Yes please.” He practically groaned, his head falling back before his arm was pulled away from you and he got up off the couch, grabbing your hands and pulling you to your feet as well and then ushering you to the kitchen. “So what did you do today? Looks like you cleaned a lot… You didn’t have to do that. I like cleaning with you.” He pulled his chair out and sunk down into it as you transferred the pot from the stove to the middle of the table. 
“You were called in so randomly, I didn’t want you to have to worry about anything else when you came home…” You gave him a small smile as you sat across from him, moving the spoon in his direction so he could eat first. “Did they work you too hard today?” 
He snorted softly as he lifted the spoon, filling his bowl with the soup before looking up at you. “As hard as they usually do, yup.” He commented through his chuckles as he took a bite, his eyes closing and a muted moan coming through his closed lips as he chewed. “You must’ve worked yourself very hard today, this soup is amazing.” 
You sighed softly, your cheeks rising slightly with a smile as you thanked him quietly. “I have uhm…” Your heart was beating so loud, but you knew that you had to tell him, this wasn’t something that you could just hide from him until the baby came out in 9 months. “I have news… to tell you…” 
His eyes lifted from his bowl, his chopsticks pausing just outside his mouth as he stared at you. “What is it? Are you gonna come to the comeback show?” He asked, and you nodded in agreement to his question although that wasn’t the news that you were going to tell him, but you had been planning on going. “Perfect. I’ll do way better with you there, darling.” 
“I have… more news to tell you.” You whispered, dropping your hands from the table to nervously rub your thighs, your palms becoming sweaty just from the buildup to this. His eyes were bright as he looked at you expectantly, waiting for the news to leave your lips. “I’m… I’m pregnant.” You breathed out the words, your heart frozen as you waited for his reaction. 
He blinked once… twice… the sparkle in his eyes fading every time they closed and reopened, his smile slowly dropping until his lips were set in a straight line. “Okay… And?” The reaction was… definitely not what you had expected. You didn’t even know how he was feeling, his words, his face, it gave you no answer. 
“I just… wanted to let you know…” You murmured, dropping your eyes back down to your soup bowl and finally taking the first bite. He was still looking at you, you could feel it even, and then he let out a sigh, his chopsticks hitting the edge of the bowl had you slowly glancing up at him. 
“Picked a really good time to tell me… I have so much going on already and now I have to worry about this.” He grumbled and your eyes wavered as you tried to process what he was saying, what he was talking about. It’s not like he was the one carrying the baby, there wasn’t even anything that he had to do right now. 
“Just… pretend I didn’t tell you…” You looked back down into your bowl, stirring the vegetables as you shook your head. “I’m sorry… I should have waited until after the comeback.” 
He ran his hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair. “My entire life is busy, Y/N. I don’t have time for a kid, I don’t have time to worry about this.” He motioned to you, but his hands were slightly lower and you knew that he was talking about the baby. “I won’t be able to sleep, I’ll… I mean… What the fuck.” 
Now you were blinking blankly at him, your heart frozen in the deepest pit of your stomach. “Wh-What do you want me to do? I’m… I’d wake up with the baby… I’d take care of it… I don’t… I don’t know what you want me to do. I thought…” Your breathing was becoming heavier and you shivered under his intense gaze. 
“We’re not married… hell, we’re not even engaged yet! What will the company think? Do you know what they’d do to me? They could kick me out of the group! And my family… Oh my god. I already have three cats to take care of and… I can’t do this.” He pushed away from the table, going straight to the door, not even putting his shoes on, just picking them up off the floor and heading out the door like he couldn’t wait to be away from you, leaving you at the table gasping for breaths as tears streamed down your face. 
Minho had gone to the dorms, going to his only hyung for advice on what to do. Of course, Chan was more level headed then any of the other guys would be, he saw things from every direction, every perspective, and after listening to his advice for over two hours, Minho knew he had made a mistake. He had been with you for two years, not on and off, a straight two years, he was absolutely head over heels for you. It’s not even like he didn’t want children, he did, and he wanted them with you. Having it all laid out for him like that, it really opened his eyes. 
Two days, he only stayed at the dorms for two days and one night, giving you the time he assumed you’d need to calm down because he was sure that you’d be angry at him. He couldn’t even imagine how you must’ve felt and he’s been kicking himself over it every hour, every second of every day. He had tried to text you, just to check up on you to see how you were doing, but you didn’t respond. He understood. He had tried to call you at night, he listened to each ring until it finally went to voicemail, and that too, he understood. You didn’t want to talk to him… He’d just have to suck it up and deal with it. 
Street lights illuminated the road as he drove back home, and he was sure there wouldn’t be dinner waiting for him like there was the night that he had left. Of course, he shouldn’t be expecting it, he shouldn’t be expecting anything of you after what he had said. He was expecting you to still be there though, that was the one thing he hadn’t been prepared for. The house completely empty of your physical presence, yet the pictures still hang on the walls. You had been there, but you were gone now. A thorough search of the house only proved what he already knew. 
His phone was immediately pulled out, texting you again to ask where you were, and when a response didn’t come in within five seconds, he was calling you and leaving messages until your voicemail box was full. Were you doing the same thing he did? Maybe you were just going to be gone for a day or two and then you’d be back. He sent one more text. “Darling, I’m home. I know you’re upset, but I want to talk to you. I’ll wait for you.” 
And wait he did, for a day, then two, then a week… Then a month, then two, then three… You weren’t coming back. He had called your parents and they had told him that you weren’t there, although he was sure they were just lying for you considering they didn’t sound worried. They were covering for you, you didn’t want to see him. That didn’t stop him from going over to your parents house to try to see you though. Every time he did, the door would be cracked open, just enough for someone, anyone but you to peek out and tell him that you weren’t there. 
He was getting pissed, especially during the one trip he made during the winter, six months after you had left without even a single word spoken to him since, your snow boots clearly sitting on the front porch. “Just let me fucking see her! I know she’s here!” He shouted, slamming his fists against the door to try to push it open, but your father pushed against him and swiftly locked it, leaving Minho a frustrated crying mess on the porch. 
The worst part was not knowing what was going on, not knowing how you were doing, not knowing how the baby was doing. Were you still even pregnant? He hated not knowing, but the worst part was that the one thing he did know was that it was his fault that all of this was happening. 
He became absolutely ruthless during practice, laying into anyone that messed up a routine, yelling if someone simply even misstepped. He couldn’t help it, it felt like he was in shambles, his entire life was falling apart. He was going to be a dad, that much he knew, but he didn’t know anything else and that made him feel worse. 
“You need to calm down.” Bangchan said as Minho stood off to the side, breathing heavily after practicing as hard as he could, the only thing that kept his mind off of you. “Have you tried calling around the OB’s? Maybe they’ll tell you which one she’s at and you can meet her there.” 
“That’s fucking stupid.” Minho muttered, running a hand through his sweat drenched hair. “They’re not going to give me that information, you know that. She doesn’t want to see me anyway… I’m gonna have a kid in a month… if it’s not already here yet… And I don’t know anything about it.” He was huffing, it almost sounded like he was hyperventilating. “Just leave me alone… I want to be alone.” 
“You’re being hard headed. Have you tried to talk to her at all?” Bangchan foolishly questioned, and Minho whipped his head in the leader's direction, his jaw set and his fists clenched at his sides. 
“The fuck kind of question is that?! Of course I’ve tried to talk to her! I’ve almost had the cops called on me at her parents house because I tried to get in. I’ve tried everything!” He shouted, pushing against Chan to try to get him to the door. “Leave me the fuck alone. I want to be alone.” 
There was nothing else that Chan could say as he was literally being shoved out of the room. He knew this couldn’t go on any longer though. Minho could barely even sing, they were in the process of recording a new album and it seemed like he would read into the lyrics of every single song and find a way to attribute them to you. He’d start crying and having to take breaks, but his dances were almost violent… He was becoming violent. 
You sat in the rocking chair in the nursery that had been set up in the guest room at your parents house, looking over the ultrasound pictures of your daughter that was bound to come out any day now. Your parents were out right now, both of them working while you were on your break from working at home. It was one of the many perks of your job. When you had gotten further along in your pregnancy your boss told you to just stay home, allowing you to take your work laptop home with you. 
Just as you were about to head back into your room/office to get back to work, the doorbell rang. The last person you thought it would be was Minho, he hadn’t tried to see you since December and it was February now. It had been almost 2 months since you’ve heard his voice shouting from the other side of the front door. That’s why you got up as fast as you could, waddling your way down the stairs and pulling the door open. 
“Jisung?” You said, although it was more of a question as you stared at the sheepish man on your porch. “What are you doing here?” You looked around, checking to see if Minho was there as well, but Jisung shook his head as if he could tell what you were thinking. 
“He’s not here. It’s just me.” He said, and then you felt his eyes scan over you, slightly bulging when they landed on your stomach. “You uh… You’re like… Pregnant pregnant. When are you due?” 
You rolled your eyes, leaning against the door and shaking your head at his question. “Why are you here? Seriously… I don’t need you to be Minhos minion. He chose this, he left, he didn’t want her so he doesn’t get me.” Jisungs lips parted into a small ‘o’ and you mentally cursed yourself for letting that small piece of information loose. 
“It’s a girl? Wow… a niece…” He whispered, but he let out a small sigh. “I’m not here for Minho. I’m here because of Minho. He’s being an ass, he’s actually scary. Not even I can calm him down, and he went off on Chan yesterday.” He seemed so nervous being there and, after 2 years of being with Minho, you knew the rest of the guys just as well as you knew your boyfriend. Jisung surely wasn’t enjoying this, and you felt bad for him. He had come here on his own to try to talk to you, to save the rest of the guys from Minhos rage. 
You stepped back from the door, letting him through and showing him to the living room. “Let me just tell my boss that something came up…” You sighed, waiting for him to sit down before waddling into the kitchen and texting your boss. Out of all the guys, you knew Jisung the most, you had hung out with him and Minho the most, you were closer to him than any of the other guys and that’s why you felt a little less uncomfortable with him being here. “Do you need anything to drink? Water? Tea?” You called from the kitchen and he shouted out a ‘no’, but you still grabbed two cups and filled them with water before returning. “What’s he been doing?” You asked, letting out a little grunt as you lowered yourself down into the chair. 
Jisungs hands moved out as if to help you, and you shook your head, letting out a little giggle once you were settled in. “He’s… He’s vicious. He yells at everyone and he’s so short fused… It’s scary. He’s scary.” His hands slid over his face before his palms slapped against his lap. “He misses you and he’s angry with himself and he’s taking it out on everyone else. We don’t know what to do… just… Can you talk to him? Please?” 
You knew that this was coming, you knew the request was going to come, but you didn’t know things were this bad for them. You felt awful, and it’s not like it was directly your fault, but you were the only one that could fix things. “Fine…” You relented, taking a deep breath before holding your hand out. “Let me use your phone, I left mine in the kitchen.” Jisung nodded, about to get up from the couch, but you shook your head. “No… I want to use your phone. I don’t want him to know my number.” You pushed your palm out further and Jisung looked a little dumbfounded at your persistence but let it go, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing Minhos number. 
“He’s her father… What if he wants to keep in touch with you to know about how she’s doing?” Jisung asked quietly as the phone rang. It was put on speaker phone in the center of the table so that you both could talk and you both could listen. “I think you should let him have your number.” 
“He said he was too busy for this life, again, it was his choice and I’m just following through with it. I’m doing him a favor.” You hissed, not wanting him to hear you immediately just in case he did answer. “He can’t just say what he said and then decide later that he messed up.” 
“It wasn’t decided later though, it only took two days for him to come back and realize he screwed up. You were already gone.” Jisung retorted and your mouth snapped shut as you leaned back further on the couch, your arms wrapping around your stomach to cradle it. 
“You don’t understand what it felt like… for him to just decide that he didn’t want this and walk out… that hurt, Jisung. He put the company and the group first, and fine… he knew you guys longer… I get that… But this is a child and it’s my child… and I’m gonna protect her.” You whispered, a soft sigh flowing through your nose as you looked at the phone that was still ringing in the middle of the coffee table. “He’s not answering. This was pointless. I think you should go now.” 
“For fucks sake, I thought you’d give up if I didn’t answer on the first three rings.” Minhos voice rang through the speaker and the sound of it had your heart stopping. He sounded so… angry. You had never heard him sound like that before. “What do you want? Make it fast, I’m busy.” 
Jisung looked at you but you shook your head, motioning for him to talk first and he rolled his eyes, leaning forward to be closer to the mic. “I’m uh… I’m over…” He looked to you and you shook your head faster, your eyes wide, knowing that if Jisung said it right now the call would end and Minho would be racing over. “How are you feeling right now? I was wondering if you wanted to go meet up for coffee or something?” 
Minho scoffed loudly and you heard the light shuffle of his feet and heavy breaths, he must’ve been practicing again. “How am I feeling? Like shit, Jisung! I don’t know what’s going on, I don’t know what she’s doing, I don’t know anything about the baby. Does she still… Is she still pregnant? Did she have the baby? Did she have to do it by herself? I don’t know shit and I’m losing my fucking mind. So no, I don’t want to meet up for coffee, I don’t want to do anything.” 
Jisungs teeth gritted together nervously as he stared at you, but you were silent, your eyes staring down at the little waves that moved in your stomach from your daughter kicking. “She didn’t have her yet…” Jisung murmured, and your eyes widened as they shot up to look at him. “What? What am I supposed to say?! You won’t say anything!” He practically shouted at you and you felt your chest tighten as angry tears threatened to fall. 
“What am I supposed to say!? I haven’t talked to him in 8 fucking months!” You shouted back, your face falling into your hands as you took a deep breath. You heard nothing from Minhos end though, an incredible silence coming through the speakers before he cleared his throat. 
“Are you… there? You’re with her? Is that Y/N?” Minho stammered, and then you could hear a gust of wind as if he were running, and you knew that if he was, he’d probably be at your front door in an hour or less. “When… Why are you there?! What are you doing there?! Why are you with her?!” 
You rolled your eyes at his screaming and Jisung threw his hands up in disbelief, letting his head fall against the back cushions of the couch. “Because you’ve been an asshole and they came to me hoping that I could cure you of that.” You answered and you heard Jisung snicker to himself at your response. “What crawled up your ass? Why are you taking it out on them?” 
“I…” Minho started and you heard a car door open and then slam shut as the engine roared to life. “Well wouldn’t you be pissed if you had a baby and you haven’t gotten to see a picture and ultrasound… I haven’t heard a heartbeat or anything! I’m pissed!” You heard the phone hit the steering wheel as his car peeled out of the parking spot. 
“Don’t hold your phone and drive, idiot!” You scolded and as if on command you heard the phone get thrown onto the passenger seat. You huffed loudly before speaking. “You walked out on me, you chose your job. I wasn’t going to force you to be a parent when you clearly weren’t ready to be one.” You explained, and you heard him groan loudly through the speaker. 
“I was gone for two days! You were gone when I came back! You’ve been gone for 8 fucking months!” He screeched, and then you heard him slam on the brakes as horns went off all around him. Your heart stopped momentarily before he started ranting out curses at whoever had messed up on the road. “I thought we’d be able to talk about things but no! You went to your parents house and had them lie to me! I almost had the cops called on me just to see you!” 
You quickly covered your mouth to stifle your laughter, remembering the look of shock on his face as you watched from the top window. “Well you tried to punch through the door! You scared my dad!” You said between giggles, and even Jisung started to chuckle now. 
“It’s not funny! Do you know how many restraining orders I would have broken to see you and the baby?!” He screeched, but even he seemed to be calming down, the lengthy breath he let out shook with silent laughter. “So how are you feeling?” 
The sudden shift in tone had you pursing your lips, hating to admit to yourself that you missed him. You missed the goofy bickering, the way he cared about you, the way he’d look at you as if you were the only woman in the entire universe. “I’m feeling- What the hell?” The line went dead before you had the chance to finish, and you knew how Minho drove when he was in a hurry, your heart lurched into your throat as you moved to get up off the couch. “H-Help me up…” You reached out your hand to Jisung who began to panic when he saw you. 
It’s not like you knew the first thing that you were going to do, but you were gonna go out on the road to look for him, to make sure he was okay. “Yeah… Yeah I’ll get your shoes just… Hold up…” Jisung stammered, looking around the room cluelessly until you pointed to the little cupboard box near the entryway and he rushed over, grabbing the first pair of shoes he saw. 
The click of the front doorknob turning had you immediately defending yourself and Jisungs presence. “It’s okay dad… I’m gonna be back soon. I have to go find Minho… I think… I’m worried about him and I still love him and I want him to be a part of her life…” You explained breathlessly as you tied your shoes before sitting up once more and turning to look at the door. 
There Minho stood, his eyes squinted with the cockiest smile as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Never heard you call me dad before… I don’t know if I like it or not yet.” He teased, toeing his shoes off next to the door before walking over to where you sat. “I’m glad you still love me though, woulda been weird to have to take you on all the first dates over again with the baby in the stroller.” The teasing tone was gone when his attention turned to Jisung who was sitting on the floor next, having helped you put your shoes on. “Did you really come here just to tell her I’ve been an asshole?” 
“Uhm… Yeah? Because you were being a really big asshole. Needed that shit to stop, so I went to the only person who would be able to stop it.” He motioned towards you with both of his hands, the usual Jisung smile on his face as he did. “And aren’t you happy? I mean, if I didn’t come here you probably would still be trying to get past her parents and you would have missed the birth of your daughter. So, I feel like you should be thanking me. And even if you won’t say it out loud… You’re welcome.” He pushed himself up off the floor, patting your head before walking over to the door and letting himself out. “I feel like you two have a lot of catching up to do, so I will be leaving. See you later!” 
Now that Jisung was gone, it felt like the comedic relief that the two of you needed had left as well, leaving an awkward film lingering in the air as you and Minho stared at each other. “You uh… you look like you’re really close. How much longer?” He asked nervously now, lowering down onto the arm of the couch to get a better view of you and your stomach. 
“About two weeks…” You murmured, swallowing thickly as you thought about it. “I’ve been going to the lamaze classes and doing the little breathing exercises to get ready… It was just hard to be at the classes since I was the only one there alone.” Minho nodded slowly, his heart aching at the thought of you going through all of this by yourself. “Her room is all set up though… Me and my dad worked on it for a while… I kept getting tired.” 
“So… you’ll be staying here?” He hated that… You and his daughter being so far away from him. It took him an hour to get there from the office, and his house was another hour in the opposite direction. He didn’t want to have to drive two hours just to see you and his baby. “I… You know… I didn’t know that she would be… A girl… But… I’ve been hoping and preparing… I’ve got a room set up for her too. It made me feel a little better… I even got the clothes and the diapers and stuff.” 
Your thumbs twirled around each other as you looked away from him. You knew that at some point it would need to be brought up, you just hadn’t had the chance to really prep what you were going to say to him. “I love you, Minho… But I never planned on going back to you.” You heard the sharp gasp be pushed from his lungs at the revelation. “It wasn’t to hurt you though… I know how important your job is to you. I was doing it to protect you, to protect the guys. I wasn’t going to hide her from you, or keep her from you forever… But I needed to get myself used to doing this on my own so that I didn’t feel like I had to depend on you. I was doing it for me… For her…” 
He slipped off the arm of the couch to fall on the cushion beside you, his hand hesitantly raising before lowering it down on your stomach, his thumb lightly brushing along the fabric that hung loosely over it. “My job is important… But it’s not more important than you, and it’s definitely not more important than her. One day the group is going to be done… And sure, I’ll still have the guys, but I don’t want to be the one sitting around while they all have families of their own… I don’t want to be the one alone while knowing that I do have a family… I just pushed them away. I don’t want you to do this on your own either… You shouldn’t have to. I want to be here, Y/N. I want to be her father… And I want to be your… Your husband.” 
Marriage had never been a topic that the two of you went too far in depth into when it got brought up, you both would ever so lightly touch base on it and then quickly move onto the next topic. It’s not that you didn’t want to get married, it just didn’t seem like an important thing to do during the two years that you had been dating. The only time that it had been seriously brought up was during that talk eight months ago that led to this.
He pulled the box out of his pocket, chuckling softly to himself as he looked at it. “You know… I brought this with me every single time I came to try and see you…” He commented as he opened it up, revealing a thin silver band with the smallest diamond on top. “There’s no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with, no one else I’d rather be starting my family with. I don’t care what management will say, I don’t care what anyone says… I don’t care what happens, as long as I get to be with you and her… So please… Will you say yes? I want to at least try to do this the right way…” 
You sniffled softly, looking down at your hand that the ring was supposed to be placed on, wiggling your finger, it was so easy to imagine what it would look like once it was slipped on. “You make it so hard to hate you, Lee Minho…” You mumbled, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your shirt before letting your hands drop back down to your sides. 
“That should be a good thing, darling. I don’t want you to hate me.” He grabbed your hand, placing the ring delicately on your finger, the fit was perfect, made specifically and only for you. “I want you to love me as much as I love you… And if you’re still unsure… I promise to spend the rest of my life making sure you’re happy, and you’re comfortable, and you know that you’re loved by me.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand before leaning in to kiss you softly, the feeling opening a floodgate of memories that had tears rushing faster down your cheeks, and he worked quickly to catch each and every single one before they had the chance to reach your chin. “I think I’ve got about 8 months worth of catching up to do before the two weeks are up… You think we got enough time?”
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vamp1reflesh · 24 days
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。・:*˚:✧。 Princess Treatment with Jaemin
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☆Contains: ̗̀➛mentions of food, sfw and nsfw content, Domestic!Jaemin, Jaemin dressing Reader up
(A/n) : repost from my other blog (@angel1kisses ) I had originally posted it on with added content!
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Sfw
☆Jaemin physically can't stop swooning over you — Just woke up? Jaemin is already kissing your face and cradling you in his arms , asking you in his morning voice if you want to eat breakfast in bed or by the table. If you want to eat in bed , he'll happily go into the kitchen and be a male wife, making breakfast for the two of you before serving it in bed. If you want to eat by the table , he'll gently pick you up and carry you to the table before setting you down on one of the chairs — he wouldn't want you to trip from walking in a half asleep state. He finds it extra adorable when one of his cats will climb onto your lap and make biscuits on your thighs whilst you just pet them with a sleepy smile. ☆If you'd complain about your feet hurting from walking around in your high heels, he'd take them off for you before picking you and carrying you while your heels are dangling off his fingers. ☆When you just got out of the shower , Jaemin has already prepared towels for you whilst you were showering — it was normal for either one of you to come into the bathroom whilst one was showering since the two of you never minded it , plus Jaemin also sets out your skin care stuff so you wouldn't need to get them out from the shelves yourself. ☆Jaemin absolutely loves taking care of you , but what he also loves is drying your hair for you and styling it. He usually would put your hair into cute hairstyles with small ribbons or other accessories. ☆It's also the little things he does , like pulling your socks up when they roll down , taking your hand and placing soft kisses on the back of it , volunteers to do your nails for you, making your bed for you , doing the laundry for you, tying your shoes for you, sometimes even picks out outfits for you, the list goes on and on. ☆absolutely adores dressing you up as if you were his personal doll, his favorite doll. Always buys cute dresses or skirts for you ,he loves the contrast when he wears all black whilst you wear soft colored clothes. ☆when you're studying , he will come by every hour to either kiss your forehead, help you or just to give you a small snack. ☆He calls you names like "Princess" or "Doll". ☆Jaemin has like 3 different folders of you in his gallery with at least over a thousand pictures he took of you. He just can't himself , how can he not take pictures of you when you just look so pretty?
Nsfw
☆absolute Service Dom , will do anything you ask him to do — you want him to eat you out? His face is your personal seat. You want to be on top? He'll put his hands on your waist to help you move on his cock. You're needy and just need to get stuffed by his fingers? Don't worry , Jaemin's got you. ☆he loves silk ribbons so he would sometimes tie pastel pink colored silk ribbons around your neck and wrists , around your neck just because you look so pretty like that and around your wrists when he punishes you by not letting you touch him. It's also his go to fabric when it comes to tying you up. ☆he wouldn't like to hurt you but if you want his hand around your neck or if you want him to be rougher , he will do so .But when aftercare comes, he will kiss the spots where he grabbed you too hard and murmur soft apologizes against your skin. He'd also run you a bath with oils added into it, most of those baths turn into soft sex whenever you ask him to join you. ☆Another thing he loves is watching you struggle to take his cock , cooing at how cute you look when you look at him with teary eyes, his hand would caress your face gently whilst he eases his cock inside your cunt. Yes , he does feel a little bad but at the same time , he gets so aroused just by thinking about how you always struggle to take him. ☆But that's what foreplay is for. Not only is he a service dom , he's a pleasure dom as well. He spends so much time with fingering you or eating you out that it almost feels like hours until he'll push his cock into your pretty little cunt. He may or may not intentionally or unintentionally overstimulate you during foreplay , sometimes he just gets so drunk of the feeling of your pussy hugging his digits so tightly while he stretches you open or of the taste of your pussy when he eats you out.
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Note
Hi! Can i ask for a self aware twst when the reader surprises adopted Silver as their son. Like just pointing at him and saying 'you are my child now' with Silver, Lilia and Sebek. Hope you have a good day!
Hehe. Anon, you know what you are doing. In fact, I would say you even want the chaos. And for that I love you come here so I can hug you.
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, Diasomnia chapter spoilers (Lilias part, maybe Sebek), religion, violence, isolation, kidnapping, obsessive behavior
Lilia Vanrouge/(Platonic) Silver/Sebek Zigvolt-Adopting Silver
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Oh ok. Cool cool coolcoolcoolcoolcool
Well, at least that one room dedicated to you in the form of an altar can now be used for more practical uses (finally)
When Lilia heard you say those words and point at his son, he fell from the chandelier he was dangling from
Not only did he have to navigate through not accidentally telling his son that he was the blood related son of an enemy general and that exactly this general killed Malleus mom
But also that he had now a second parent that also happened to be god
Mhm totally normal
Conversations to strangers about his family were already playing out like this in his head:
Hi, I am Lilia Vanrouge, yes the one in your history book, this is my son Silver, yes he looks like a certain knight, and my lovely partner and also parent of this lovely human, yes, FU**ING GOD THEMSELVES
Ah yes, sitting in church will totally not be awkward after this
Bro legit sits you down with a pen and paper, asking you to sign the marriage certificate
Asks you what flowers you want to have on your wedding. Doesn't matter if you are a woman, man or identify as something else, he is planning that
Also has already planned out how to get you into the Valley of Thorns without anyone noticing
Because no matter how devoted he is to you, he will always be too greedy to share your attention with someone else
You could have said this as a joke or some other protective instinct towards the silver-haired male but all that man's father hears is a marriage proposal
Lilia is just happy that you feel some sort of positive way to his family member (makes things easier when you are stuck in that cabin)
I mean, he did see Silver as a present from you, a child meant to bring him back to the light after being so long in the shadow of war
And now the three of you were together! How lovely!
Which would mean that you planned this all along. Dear Overseer, if you liked the idea of you being a family you could have just told him so
He will be the best partner to raise a child together you could dream of
And should someone dare to interrupt the perfect, peaceful life you three (plus two more) had, he wouldn't mind swinging that sword again
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Wait what?
What do you mean with that?
Are you sure you want him to be your son? Really?
Apparently he was not the only one surprised since he could hear the thud of his father falling to the ground behind him and Seek screaming somewhere behind him
Be prepared for a silver haired knight to look at you with the biggest puppy eyes and ask "Do you really want me as you son?"
Critical hit! Someone call a doctor. I think the Valley of Thorns god can be killed by cuteness
After that he is glued to your side (even though you have to part sooner or later since he is not living in Ramshackle)
One morning you woke up to the guy standing there with some food being like "I made some food."
Like where the Heck did he even get the keys for the dorm? (He broke in through a hole in the ceiling)
Silver always comes running to you whenever he does something and wants praises
Once he was best in one of his classes and he stood there with the report like he could turn into a dog and get headpats from you any second
But, as I am sure you are aware of, this is a blog with yandere themes and we have to say goodbye to the fluff at some point
That sword training comes in handy is all I'm saying
I mean, he has probably enough strength to break someone's leg with his bare hands by simply applying some pressure
And that one Diasomnia student that tried to take his son-status away from him was found again in a not-so-compatible-state-with-life kind of situation
I'm letting you imagine what happened
Like Lilia he is ready to burn everyone who dares to interfere with your little family
The forests of his homeland are pretty though so no need to worry about the appearance of your surroundings once they bring you to your new home (who needs social interaction anyways?)
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A second of silence
And then the screaming started
“OH HOW KIND OF OUR OVERSEER! TO SHOW A MORTAL THEIR KINDNESS AND CARING SIDE!”
Seek would be lying if he said that he wasn't surprised
You, aka the Overseer, aka some higher being, AKA GOD, were known in the Valley of Thorns to be kind and caring, yet also distant and never approaching others directly
But then you literally adopt someone, making that person someone in your inner cycle?
Well, if Sebek knew one thing then that those Priests were going to have a crisis as soon as they learned about this
Totally not jealous
He would try to get closer to you since, apparently, you did allow others to get close to you
But he was happy as long as you were
After all, he was now the (not-so-official appointed) shield of the Valley of Thorns, something he got passed on by his grandfather
So of course he couldn't be family with you
That didn't mean he couldn't “help” you
Someone intruded on that dinner you had with Lilia and Silver?
Ouch… that punch must have hurt
Whenever Silver or his Father had to interfere because someone else came too close then they were some incredibly slick (looking at you Rook) or lucky person
Don't let his loud mouth fool you
This crocodile has done unmentionables in your name in order to make things easier for your new found family
For what? Oh you know, becoming his neighbor back home… forever
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yuujispinkhair · 4 months
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Sin for Me
You know that dating Yakuza King Sukuna means he is often busy with work until late at night. But that doesn't mean you can't drive to his fancy downtown office and take his mind off work, at least for a little while. -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event (closed). @skunaskitten requested "Sin for Me" by TWNTYFOUR & 7INK. Omg babe, thank you so much for requesting Yakuza!Sukuna!! I miss him so much, and this song is so sexy and fits him so well!!
Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, sex in Sukuna's office, dirty talk, creampie, daddy-kink. This story is set in my Yakuza!Sukuna Universe, but you don't need to read that to understand what is going on. Sukuna is the Oyabun of one of Tokyo's most powerful Yakuza clans, and reader is in an established relationship with him. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
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Your heart flutters as you stride down the large hallway of the fancy downtown office. It's long after sunset, the city is wrapped in night, a million little glittering lights lighting it up. And you feel on fire as you approach the heavy wooden double door at the end of the hallway.
The door to the office of the King of Tokyo's underworld. Sukuna's door.
Your man, your lover, your whole world since you met him.
Sukuna is a busy man, always giving his all and always so passionate about everything he does. So intense. He is still in his fancy office at eleven p.m., going through his documents, maybe preparing a new contract, or maybe signing someone's death sentence disguised as a business e-mail.
And you were feeling rather lonely in his penthouse, all alone, sitting on the luxurious leather couch, watching TV, and waiting for Sukuna to come home.
You know he doesn't do it to anger you. He would never do that. But he tends to forget about the time when he is busy with work. And a man like Sukuna has a lot of business to deal with. He is the King, after all.
You can't deny that it's incredibly sexy how dedicated he is to his work. Passionate and ambitious. Just like he is in bed.
But enough is enough. You are here now to take Sukuna's mind off work.
You feel exhilarated, a mix of adrenaline and lust pumping through your veins as you push open the double door to Sukuna's office. You can feel the sinful caress of the red lace lingerie you are wearing beneath the luxurious black coat.
Everything you wear was bought by Sukuna in the fancy designer boutiques of the city. The city that belongs to him.
You are already ruining those expensive panties, already so wet just at the thought of the Yakuza King's maroon gaze traveling over your body.
He is sitting at his mahogany desk, a glass of vodka in front of him, his suit jacket abandoned, his black tie loosened, the upper buttons of his red dress shirt open, revealing some of his buff chest and the sexy tattoos that mark him as the King of Tokyo's underworld.
A pair of beautiful maroon eyes lands on you. An elegant eyebrow gets raised. An amused smirk lifts one corner of soft pink lips.
"Decided to provide me some company, my love?"
You smile at him while your heart beats wildly in your chest.
"Yes, I couldn't let you be here all stressed and alone, could I?"
You lick your lips nervously as you slowly unbutton your coat and then let it slip off your shoulder and fall to the floor, revealing your red lace lingerie to Sukuna's hungry gaze.
His smirk grows bigger. He lets go of the pen he was holding and leans back in his leather chair, maroon eyes never leaving yours as he says,
"Then come over here, angel, and sin for me."
You smile at him and start walking toward him, but his low, velvety voice stops you,
"Uh uh, not like that. Take it all off for me. Be a good girl for Daddy. Leave those panties on the floor."
You can feel your pulse even in your pussy, wild and excited, so turned on by being here in Sukuna's office late at night, the nightly city twinkling outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the King's eyes on you, knowing he wants you. And you are eager to please him, eager to obey his every command.
Sukuna looks like a sexy devil, sipping his vodka while watching you, his cat-like eyes trailing slowly over your body as you slip out of the lacey bra, moaning softly when you feel the air brush over your naked tits. You look at Sukuna with your heart racing as you let your hands slide down your sides, hooking your fingers in the luxurious fabric of your red panties.
Your breath quickens, and Sukuna's eyes flicker to yours.
"Yes, just like that, my good girl. Take them off. Show me your pretty pussy."
You feel light-headed with those maroon eyes on you as you push down your panties, letting them drop to the floor before you step out of them, leaving them behind as you slowly make your way to Sukuna's desk.
He watches you with his burning gaze, taking you in as if you are his prey or the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes upon. Maybe both at the same time.
You are so wet for him, so aroused by the situation, pussy creaming up so much that you feel it on your thighs as you slowly walk over to Sukuna.
The moment you have reached him, his strong hands grab your hips and pull you on his lap. You gasp, so turned on by being in his lap like this, wet and completely naked while he is still fully clothed, smirking at you like the devil that he is, his large hands so warm on your bare skin, his thumbs gently caressing your hips, making lust pool in your stomach.
But he isn't just the devil. He is also your lover, your man. His lips capture yours in a kiss that's equally passionate and tender.
"Kuna…"
Your voice comes out as a needy whimper when one of his hands slips between your spread legs to rub your wet swollen clit slowly, making your hips buck against him, smearing your cream all over his luxurious black suit pants.
You can hear the smile in his sexy voice when he says,
"Yeah, kitten?"
"I want to make you feel good… please… let me.. let me take your mind off work."
"I know, sweetheart, I know. And I guarantee you that you are very successful in your mission. I can't even remember what work is."
Sukuna pulls away from your lips to grin at you while his right-hand rubs those delicious slow circles around your clit, and his left hand opens his belt and pants. You moan softly when he frees his fat long cock, so gorgeous, so perfect, and all yours.
He gives it a few lazy pumps while he looks at you through his long black lashes,
"Come sit on my cock. Ride Daddy until every last trace of stress leaves his body."
His maroon eyes sparkle at you, his low voice soft like a caress, velvety and full of desire, as you gulp hard and lift yourself up enough to position your soaked, twitching pussy over Sukuna's swollen cockhead, slowly lowering yourself onto him, gasping when you feel his thick tip splitting you open.
You cry out softly when you sit down completely on him, taking his whole hard length into you, so deep, so perfect, making you feel so full. Your head is spinning, clit pulsing wildly. You could so easily get lost in pleasure. But you remind yourself why you are here. To take care of Sukuna, to help him de-stress, to help him forget about work. To spoil his gorgeous cock until he can't think anymore.
You lift yourself up again, moaning at the feeling of that veiny cock gliding through your wet heat. Your hands link behind Sukuna's neck, fingertips caressing the stubble of his undercut, and you look deeply into his eyes, gasping, when you sink down again, taking his gorgeous cock all the way into you again, clenching your hot cunt around him.
The low groan falling from Sukuna's lips is all the reassurance you need.
You moan his name as you bounce on his fat cock, riding the King thoroughly on his fancy office chair, taking him in so deep anytime you sink down on his lap again. Clenching around his fat cock, pleasuring him with your wet, hot cunt, spoiling his gorgeous cock like he deserves after a hard day at work.
Sukuna's large hands are on your naked ass cheeks, kneading them softly but not doing anything else, letting you take control, giving himself to you. Letting you ride him and take care of him just like you said you would.
His lips trail over your tits which jiggle in front of his face. His teeth graze over your hardened nipples, tongue flicking over them, making you cry out in lust.
And your horny cries get joined by Sukuna's low moans as he lets his head fall back against his leather chair, hands tightening on your ass, muscular tighs flexing beneath you as you feel his orgasm approach.
"Ah! Yes!! Oh Kuna, please cum in me, Daddy!"
A low growl escapes his lips as his eyes close and his hips buck, impaling you deeply on his gorgeous fat length. You can feel him cum in you, can feel his cock throb in you, shooting his hot seed into you in several strong bursts.
And you are spurred on by Sukuna's orgasm, riding him so sweetly through it, milking Sukuna's cock lovingly until he has given you every last drop of his hot seed. Fucking all the stress out of him. Serving the King of Tokyo's underworld like only you can.
You tumble over the edge a second later, crying out Sukuna's name loudly as your pussy shudders around him, and your cream gushes onto his cock and his fine suit pants, giving him your all too.
His large hands knead your ass gently as he slowly rolls his hips, fucking you through your orgasm, his lips claiming yours in another passionate kiss, kissing your lips and licking your tongue until your pussy stops spasming around his gorgeous cock.
Sukuna doesn't let go of you even when you pull away from your long kiss. His strong hands are sprawled over your hips, keeping you in place right where he wants you, on his lap, on his cock.
The nightly city is glittering beautifully outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, but you only have eyes for Sukuna. He looks so beautiful, his hair slightly ruffled from your fingers running through it, his maroon eyes filled with love, and his handsome face relaxed.
The smile on his face is so attractive and boyish that it makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. A soft laugh escapes his lips before he tells you in that warm, velvety voice,
"Thank you, my love, for helping me take the edge off after such a stressful day. You're so good for Daddy."
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AAAHHH YAKUZA KING SUKUNA MY LOVE!!! It was so comforting to write for him again after such a long time!! Thank you so much for requesting him!! I hope he made you happy too 💗
Comments and reblogs would be sweet!!
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bad268 · 6 months
Note
Hey. I love your blog. It's amazing. Is it possible for you to write about actress reader x colby brock. Like they are each others favorite and Sam and colby invite her to one of their investigations. Like in one of her interviews found out that their her favorite YouTubers and colby might ask her on a date?
Thank you so much 💗
Tweets (Colby Brock X Actor! Reader)
Fandom: RPF/Sam and Colby & Co.
Requested: Clearly (I had a little too much fun with this one lol)
Warnings: none.
Pronouns: First person (I/me)
W.C. 1087
Summary: An unearthed tweet leads to shocking revelations (with a best friend's intervention).
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
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~~(^@/Colby's insta from November 16, 2023)
It all started with a resurfaced tweet from 2015…
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I can’t say it was a lie, but it was before my big break, and I didn't have a manager running my social media accounts 24/7. I was just a normal teenager on Vine with time to kill. And now, I thought it was coming back to haunt me, pun intended.
That was until I received a DM from Colby himself asking me to be a part of their yearly tradition, Hell Week. At first, I was starstruck, but I would have been crazy to decline.
So that’s where we are now: preparing for the Conjuring House. A place of extremes. A place I told myself I would never go to because of how insane it is, yet here I am. And, of course, it’s going to be for a week. 
I was invited to Sam and Colby’s place to go over the specifics of the trip. I had just finished filming my latest movie, which was coincidentally being filmed in Las Vegas, so as soon as my scenes were wrapped up, I set off for their house.
By the time I got there, everyone else who was invited was already there. At least, I assumed with the number of cars in the driveway. I was still in stage make-up, but thankfully, I had changed into something more comfortable before I left the set. I grabbed my backpack before jumping out of my car, locking it, and walking up to the door, ringing the doorbell.
Almost immediately, the door is being opened, and I am face to face with Colby. After a beat of us just staring, speechless, at each other, I cleared my throat. I chuckled nervously before saying, “Hi, apologies for being late. Filming ran a little longer than I originally planned. I hope I didn’t hold you all up too long.”
“Nah, don’t even worry about it,” he dismissed quickly as he stepped aside and ushered me inside. “Come in, and I’ll show you where you can put your stuff. You’re staying and going with Sam, Seth, and me to Rhode Island, right?”
“If that’s still alright with you guys,” I replied, walking in step with Colby up the stairs. “I don’t want to impose on your personal spaces. I can go home, just say the word.”
“I would never kick you out,” he laughed, leading me down the hall and stopping just before the end. “Here is your room. There is a bathroom attached. It’s right next to the closet, and if you need anything, my room is right there.” He paused as he pointed to the room at the very end of the hall. “I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. If you need anything, let me know.”
“I’ll feel bad if it’s the middle of the night, but I will keep that in mind. Thank you,” I replied as I walked in to set my bag down on the vanity. “I’m just going to take my make-up off and meet you guys downstairs if that’s alright.”
“No problem,” he said, “We’ll be in the living room and we’ll either order food later or go out. We’ll see how everyone feels.”
“Ok, cool, thank you!” I said enthusiastically as he left down the hall. I closed the door over as I walked deeper into the room. I grabbed out my micellar water, cotton pads, and hydrater before walking into the ensuite to clean my face. As I set them on the counter, I noticed a piece of paper.
It was a printed screenshot of Twitter. A specific tweet from Colby in 2016 read, “Give me a chance y/n.” The back of the paper had its own handwritten note.
“You have been Colby’s celebrity crush for years. I know you posted a tweet in 2015 asking if he was single, and I don’t know if it was a joke or not. I didn’t show him the tweet, but I can say he’s single now if that tweet is still true. Please just get him to shut up. -Sam”
I chuckled at the note before quickly cleaning my face to head downstairs. Everyone was sitting on the couch or on the floor facing the TV. Everyone except Colby. I glanced around the room, trying to find him, only to see him standing in the kitchen. He was looking through the fridge, so I walked up behind him.
“Can you hand me a water?” I asked, startling him in the process. He jumped up straight, sucking in a quick breath as he snapped around to look at me. “Did I scare you or is that residual energy from the Conjuring House?”
“No, I just…” he trailed off for a second. “Yeah. I wasn’t expecting you down here just yet.”
“Kinda like how you didn’t expect me to see this?” I teased as I pulled the paper out from behind my back. Colby’s eyes grew wide as his jaw dropped. He stammered, trying to come up with a reason behind it, but he could not get a cohesive thought out. “Don’t worry. I’d give you a chance.”
Colby stopped entirely. I could see the gears turning in his mind before he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He opened his eyes, immediately meeting mine as he reached out to take the paper from my hands, setting it on the counter. He held my hands in his as he closed the distance between us. 
“Y/n, will you go out with me?” Colby whispered as he bit his lip in nervousness.
“Of course, I will,” I whispered back as a smile spread across both of our faces. 
“How about after this meeting we get out of here and do mini golf and dinner?” He offered, leaning his head down to rest our foreheads together.
“I will take you down,” I laughed as I leaned more into his body. “Truth be told, I’m great at mini golf.”
“Okay, lovebirds, we get it,” Sam interrupted from the living room. “We get it.”
“Shush, Sam,” I quipped back as I snapped my head to look at the group on the couch, still holding Colby’s hands. “You’re the one that left the note in my bathroom.”
“Wait, there’s a note?!” Colby shouted as he immediately let go of one of my hands to flip the paper over, reading through the note. “Sam, I told you this in confidence!”
~~~~~
© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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earthtooz · 1 year
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x : I KNOW I LOVE YOU ! :*+゚ all or nothing, i want all of you!:
aka moments that the bllk boys knew they loved you ! ╰┈➤ with nagi, itoshi rin, and reo mikage !
warnings: gn!reader, no pronouns, mentions of food in all three, swearing in rin's + he's kind of mean but like that's just who he is and i don't want to fix him for it <3, fluff for all 3, sickness in nagi's, i think that's all the warnings, lmk otherwise!
a/n: last fic of 2022, i gasped when i saw that photo of beomgyu BYEEEE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH tumblr deserves to see him!!! reblogs appreciated :( the ratio of reblogs to likes is so sad sometimes so pls, if you enjoyed this fic, pls take the time to reblog - no matter how small or big ur blog is!!! rblgs is the best way to motivate ur favourite writers + help their works circulate around this site so always pls consider reblogging!
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NAGI SEISHIRO: knew he loved you when you took care of him when he was sick.
nagi stirs awake with a groan, immediately engulfed by an insufferable warmth that caused him to kick the covers off his body.
as he shuffles to get comfortable again, he registers sounds coming from his kitchen, something he doesn't bother to investigate because he's hit by the dryness of his throat. glancing to his bedside table, there sat a glass of water that was practically calling his name, an offer he couldn't resist as he downed the drink in four seconds.
he then cringes at the stinging of his head.
so the headache still hasn't passed. what a pain.
he wants to go back to bed, to give in to the comfiness of his pillow and return to dreamland where his head wouldn't kill him. but, with the clanging and sizzling coming from the kitchen, it wouldn't hurt to check out what was happening, right?
dawdling out of bed, he slowly but surely makes his way to his door, opening it quietly before heading out into the kitchen, where you stood by the stove.
you were dancing to your playlist that was faintly playing in the background whilst tending to the pans on the stove top. one had eggs and spam, the other was boiling some instant noodles.
what were you doing here?
he's shortly flooded by recollections of what happened hours prior. nagi had invited you over to spend the day with him at his apartment but minutes before you arrived, he felt light-headed and dizzy. when he opened the door for you, he practically collapsed in your arms, and that was where the memory ended.
the fact that you stayed rather than simply going home to let him take care of himself warmed nagi, filling him with a feeling that he forgot long ago.
something like comfort.
"oh my god!" you exclaim, placing a hand to your chest at the sudden sight of a 6'3 man looming at the entrance of the kitchen. "sei, don't do that!"
turning off the fire, you quickly make your way to him, placing the back of your hand against his forehead.
it's still a little warm. he thought he just had a headache, did he have a fever? is that why he collapsed?
he should be grateful that he's not him taking care of himself.
"how do you feel?" you ask, brushing his hair back from his skin. he pouts slightly, leaning into your touch.
"my head is killing me," he murmurs, about to slouch on to you when you abruptly step away to fish for something in a plastic bag on the counter.
at the lack of your touch, he groans to protest, but you show him a small box you bought. painkillers.
did you go out and buy him stuff whilst he was asleep? just how good are you? what did he do to deserve you?
"take two pills and i'll prepare your food for you," you tell him before grabbing a bowl, a plate and chopsticks. nagi simply watches as you plate the goods, his stomach aching for your food whilst you sprinkle some nori over his ramen. the fried spam and eggs smelled divine.
soon enough, you sit him down at his two-person dining table before ambling away to clean up.
he misses you even more when he takes a bite of his food. nagi hasn’t had anyone take care of him in so long, not in the way that mattered at least. sure, he wouldn’t trade the world for reo and all he gives him, and he's thankful to his parents for the funds they've given him, but you take care of him because you want to. there’s no ‘dream’ you’re gaining using him as an asset, everything you've done, you've done for him to feel better.
and when nagi combines all the ingredients together in one bite, he’s filled with the love that homemade food provides, even if its just instant ramen with a little more nutrients. 
it’s more delicious than his ‘win’ yoghurts could ever be and nagi can’t go back now.
when you return, the white-haired beams at you as you take a seat beside him, your chin leaning into your palm as you brush a hand through his tangled locks. 
“how are you feeling, sei?” you question softly.
“amazing.” he says before digging back in. 
his eagerness causes a small laugh to slip and nagi perks up at the delightful sound, watching the way your nose crinkles and your lips part. then, he grabs some noodles and offers them to you, a gift you gladly take, humming at the taste. he does the same for the egg and spam and as he watches you with adoration in his eyes, he can't help but be overfilled with love.
“thank you,” mutters nagi.
“you’re welcome. now eat up and feel better, genius.” 
his words of gratitude have far deeper meaning than you realise, but nagi has a while to show you just how thankful he was for you.
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ITOSHI RIN: knew he loved you when your company was something he didn't get tired of.
at 10 am, there’s a knock on the door to rin’s apartment.
he’s knows who it is before even greeting said person, and when your smiling face appears on the other side of the door, rin can’t help the excitement bubbling in his chest, signified through the small smile he tries to fight down.
“hi rin,” you greet, stepping forward to press a kiss against his cheek. that smile of his widens. 
“hello.” 
the dark-haired opens his arms expectantly and you drop three hoodies on them, all of them were his and freshly washed. he rolls his eyes.
“i wanted a hug,” scoffed rin.
“oh,” you laughed before throwing your arms around his torso, staying there like that for a few moments before separating. “anyhow, i should probably get going. i’ll see you-”
“why aren’t you staying?” he asks, coming off as more of a demand.
“because we didn’t plan for it?” 
“you should stay and watch a movie.” 
“aww does rinnie not have anything else to do?” you say with a mocking tone, but it’s all lighthearted and fun, especially when he pulls you in his apartment and locks the door behind you.
“shut up. go pick a movie.”
approximately ten minutes later, you’re curled up on the couch with rin lying over your body, peacefully splayed with his chest resting on your sternum whilst you absentmindedly play with his hair, too engaged in the movie. 
rin, on the other hand, didn’t find any enjoyment in your choice at all. “why the fuck are we watching ‘it’?” he asked, shuffling a little, causing you to stifle a giggle due to his movements. 
you shrug. “it just popped up. thought you liked horror movies.”
“horror movies that aren’t shit.” 
“touché. now shut up, i want to watch.” 
he grumbles something before relaxing into you again, more focused on the sound of your heartbeat than the events of the movie. eventually, the even beats lulls him into a light slumber, fast asleep despite the way it sometimes speeds in anticipation.
you, on the other hand, realise that he’s fallen asleep due to the slight wheezes he lets out, not loud enough to border a snore, but not peaceful enough to simply be breathing.
when the movie finishes, you shake him lightly to stir him from his sleep and when you meet his slightly hazy gaze, you feel a little bad for waking him. 
“the movie’s done, i should get going now,” you mutter, setting your hands on his shoulders as to push him off, but as soon as you announce your plans of leaving, rin holds on even tighter to your body. “hey! get off!” you try your best to push him away despite your laughter that ripples through the air.
“you should stay for lunch,” suggests your boyfriend, who rests his chin on your sternum. his eyes were practically pleading for you to agree, shining with hope.
he’s lucky you have nothing to do today, and that you were hungry.
when you roll your eyes and put your hands up in mock surrender, rin can’t help but smile a little, giddy at the idea of being able to spend more time with you.
hold on- since when was he happy at the idea of spending more time with anyone?
“shall we eat here or out?” you asked, your hands resuming threading through rin’s hair again. it was so smooth, what did he use in it? smelt nice too. 
“here. too lazy.”
after a few minutes of deciding what to eat, the delivery showed up rather quickly at his apartment. when you both settled down to eat, rin couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander, unable to help but think about how nice it was to be in your company and simply exist. he wants to do this for the rest of his life. 
you seem to have other plans. 
“so,” you begin, plate now empty. “i’m probably going to head home now-”
“wait, what? no.”
“no?” 
“i paid for lunch, you should repay me by keeping me company.”
with a huff, you cross your arms. “okay mr athlete’s salary, i’ll transfer you-”
“-can’t you just stay a little longer?”
“ask nicely.”
“can’t you please just stay a little longer?”
“if you insist,” you sigh dramatically, batting your eyelashes at him jokingly. rin scoffs. “what do you want to do?”
you actually ended up doing nothing for the next few hours, simply scrolling on your phone whilst laid on rin’s lap. he’s resorted to watching some past recorded matches, sometimes of himself, sometimes of other notable soccer athletes. 
the sun was now beginning to set and having been here since 10 am, you were beginning to feel bored out of your mind. 
you were also beginning to feel as if you were burdening rin with your company so, with a yawn, you begin to sit up. the athlete pauses his video and looks at you curiously. 
“i should get going now,” you say, rubbing your eyes.
“what?”
“i said i should get going now,” you repeat.
“no, no, i heard you the first time,” he mutters, a little bite in his tone. “why?”
“cause we’re not doing anything? plus i’m bored out of my mind and need some fresh air.” 
“then we can get fresh air together, you don’t have to leave yet.”
“you’re real insistent on keeping me here, guess you just like me too much, huh?”
rin leans in closer to your shit-eating grin, placing a hand on your cheek to press a fleeting kiss to your lips, one that leaves you wanting more. 
then you find yourself on the rooftop of his apartment complex, one that overlooks the beautiful horizon of tokyo and leaves you breathless as you gaze over the beautiful sight of the sunset colours bleeding together. with itoshi rin by your side, it feels even better.
leaning on his shoulder, you were not aware that your boyfriend’s eyes were admiring you instead of the sunset before you. he takes his time breathing the sight of you in, how beautiful you look with the hues of orange painting your skin. 
it’s funny. rin feels so purposeful with you, like he was made to be by your side and nowhere else.
maybe he should ask you to move in.
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MIKAGE REO: knew he loved you when you cared about him, not his image.
he's not used to this, the feeling of being adored for who he was rather than what he was. you don't like him because he's rich, that he was a spawn of a billionaire, you don't like him because he's a talented soccer player either. you like him because he's funny, unique, generous, and despite his self-centred upbringing, ironically selfless in his own way.
the trained smile and behaviour that reo plasters on every morning crumbles whenever he's around you.
he greets you at the park you agreed to meet up at and you return his wave with a smile, pulling your scarf down from your mouth where you were attempting to warm yourself from the cold.
"hi," you mumble, dancing a little from side to side to shake the jitters of the cold away.
"hi, i didn't keep you waiting too long, did i?" he asks.
you shake your head. "no, i just forgot some extra layers. i thought my gloves were in this coat too but i must have been mistaken."
reo frowns at your ice-bitten demeanour, feeling a sudden urge to wrap you up, give you all his warmth and shield you from the winter weather.
"anyways," your voice breaks his thoughts. "have you eaten yet?"
he widens his eyes a little in shock, taken aback by your question, one clearly asked out of care and affection. you were the one freezing your ass off due to your own negligence yet you had the nerve to ask if he had taken care of himself.
instead of asking about the latest product mikage corporations released- a news segment that was taking the business world by storm, you ask reo if he had eaten.
strange. he feels strange. it's nice.
"no, not since breakfast," he coughs after his mouth had caught up to his mind.
you tug at his arm gently, "then c'mon, there's a nearby 7/11. i hope they have sweet potato, we can get two for the both of us!"
the purple-haired can't fight the smile that tugs on the corners of his mouth, obliging happily with your requests as he allows you to pull him in the direction of the store. before you could leave the park, however, reo skids to a stop, dragging you back to him.
ignoring your curious gaze, he nimbly goes to take the wool gloves off of his hands. when one is off, he swiftly grabs your wrist to thread your fingers through the fabric, all whilst you actively ignore how warm reo's hands are and how soft they are when they encompass your wrist. his fingertips leave trials of fire burning on your skin but you don't jump back from the sensation. instead, you let it happen.
his gloves are a tad bit too big for your hands, but you feel warm immediately. whether that's a direct result of the gloves or not, you don't really want to know.
"this okay?" asks reo, gaze meeting yours. you try to trick yourself into believing that the softness of his expression was because of the wind, and that the snow was playing tricks on your eyes.
swallowing thickly, you nod. "won't you be cold?"
he wriggles his fingers slightly before shrugging.
with a small chuckle, you grab his bare ones and bundle them together with yours, a weak attempt at sharing warmth.
but, reo appreciates it nevertheless, smiling at how focused you seemed to be when caring for him.
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ozzgin · 3 months
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Heyyy just checked your masterlist and saw that despite you being into obey me! fandom, you don't have a fic. I'm married to Solomon in my mind so how about a situation where the reader (fem or gn your pick) is equally in love with this old man and begs him to recreate that time potion which made him immortal. Oh? Did i mention i want him to be a yandere? Please do that as well ^^
I love me my morally grey wizard ;)
I have 3 unfinished drafts for Diavolo, Barbatos and Satan on my Wattpad, but it was around the time I started getting Baki related requests here so I haven’t had the time to continue them. This goes for everyone reading, if you see a fandom title with no works you can always request something! :) This blog is only a few months old and I wasn’t writing much before (twice or thrice a year if I was generously inspired), so the variety is rather limited still. (I also finish requests at the pace of a snail, sorry about that)
Yandere! Solomon x Reader Headcanons
Featuring your fellow human classmate and now soon-to-be husband who couldn’t be happier about your wish to spend an eternity with him.
Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior
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It started rather subtle. Just idle curiosity at first, a mere feigned surprise that was quickly swept aside for more important matters. Sure, Diavolo bringing another fellow human to the Devildom, especially one without any powers, was at least mildly intriguing. Your situation was as tempting as a puzzle to fiddle with in between tasks. Beyond polite offers to help you handle the new challenging environment, Solomon was not planning on prying further. Then the surprises begun to queue one after another. To think that you had barely learned your way around and somehow still forged a contract with one of the devilish siblings. Then another. And another. Fascination crept its way in and the greatest sorcerer found himself begging to learn more about the mysterious (Y/N).
Naturally such fascination should’ve had an intellectual grounding and nothing more. What is it about you that has caused such a ruckus across RAD? All he needed was an answer. Yet he discovered much too late how embarrassingly involved he’d become. Childishly clutching his D.D.D. in the middle of the night, wondering if you’ve already fallen asleep, and grinning when the screen lit up with a response from you. Cancelling all plans the instant you’d ask - casually - if he wanted to join you after class to check out a new café. No, of course he had nothing else to do. Yes, it’s definitely a lucky coincidence that he’s always available when you want to hang out with him.
Once he accepted he was madly in love with you, he began fretting over all possible obstacles. The demon brothers, life after RAD. He’d never engaged much with other humans and his charisma only covered superficial pleasantries. How was he to properly convey that he’s - mildly put - obsessed with you to the point where rejection won’t be taken lightly? Uh oh. Closer to a threat than a confession. Thankfully the Heavens were gracious and you immediately returned his affections. No need for potions or hexes (not that he would’ve…he had them prepared just in case). He remembers it to this day, years after, the wide, innocent smile that you so generously bestowed upon him. Almost like a premonition, he knew you’d be the person to marry. Something he never considered in his long, lonely life.
You lazily lift your hand and admire the ring again. Solomon is quite clumsy and forgetful, but he goes all out for the things that matter. The proposal had been planned to a dizzying amount of detail and you couldn’t believe how much thought he put into it, with many aspects you otherwise assumed he’d forget or omit. Yet staring at the intricately carved band adorning your finger now, you can’t help the pang of melancholy blooming in your chest. Solomon lifts his gaze from the book he’s reading, sensing your discomfort. “Something bothering you?” He inquires with a hint of worry in his voice. “What happens after the wedding?” You demand, turning to face him. “Oh my. I personally prefer to focus on the present.” He answers with a chuckle. “Sure, because you don’t have to worry about your future. It’s mine that will end at some point.” His eyes widen and his hands are suddenly cold. He’s been so entranced by your company that he didn’t even entertain the idea of a potential end to it. He almost strokes his cheek to soothe the hard slap of your words, leaving him in a frightened stupor.
Oh no. No, no, no. Within the blink of an eye he finds himself standing before the alchemy shelves, rattling the bottles for the right ingredients. You didn’t even need to mutter a word. He knew exactly what you’re thinking of. How shameful of him to have caused you this distress in the first place. You’re young, and time for him has lost its human meaning, so your mortality hadn’t crossed his mind this entire time. He would’ve found a solution for it later, most certainly, but he didn’t expect this postponement to make you so anxious. His lips are quivering and his slender fingers are visibly trembling. Partly from the fear of almost failing you as your future husband, partly from the excitement of what’s about to come. He always imagined there’d be nothing more beautiful and precious to witness than you in your wedding attire as you tie the knot. But now? Oh, how ravishingly tempting and seducing, the fact that he can listen to the mundanely repeated words of “Til death do us part” and stare down its meaning until there’s nothing left of it. Not quite. Not for you two. The veil will be lifted and your face will radiate eternity.
After all, nothing will stand between him and his fated soulmate. What’s death to a wizard of his caliber?
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Hihi! I went on anon cause my main blog is strictly sfw, but I promise I'm an adult(29). Anyways, I had this idea of Ascended Astarion teasing Tav/Reader in front of a mirror. He can't see himself, but loves the way Tav/Reader shudders under his touch and them getting more and more embarrassed because all they can see is themselves getting riled up by seemingly nothing, but when they look down, ofc they see his hands working magic across their body.
Lol ty for the clarification and ask! I've been needing some nsfw practice!
Ascended Astarion nsfw under the cut, 18 + warnings. Like this is not implied smut. It is smut, graphic. Possessive, obsessive, manipulative, bad vampire man who loves you. As much as he's capable of. Morally gray human Tav from the start to here. It's only downhill from here baby, m/f angle. But if that doesnt fufill the dream let me know and I can make a gender neutral/ gender nonspecfic no prob! And probably less intense too because this is angsty~~~
Like I went ham, this is a whole ass fic now💀
You frowned at yourself in the bedroom mirror, adjusting your hair for the umpteenth time. It still didn't look right, despite what felt like hours of practice that you'd put into the intricate style.
You sighed as let one of your braids fall down, dissatisfied with what you saw. You didn't exactly look the part of an all-powerful vampire's consort, or at least not with the company you've recently been keeping. But it turned out a significant part of taking over Baldur's Gate was trenched in politics, meetings, balls, social events created for the sole purpose of mind games.
It was exhausting, or at least it was for you. But Astarion seemed to take to it like a duck to water. This life suited him, one of power games and subterfuge, and more often than not, murder. Not that you minded. You were just happy that he was having fun. That he was finally free after all of those years of torment. Even if he was using that freedom for… less than savory ends.
But despite his goals, you had sworn to him that you would never stray. And you intended on making good on that promise.
You just wished that he didn't insist on you being there for all of his "business". You hadn't realized how literal he had been about the whole sitting in his lap plan. It had taken a half-hour conversation to even convince him that no, you would not be doing so in the nude. He still hadn't given up on convincing you off that plan, but you highly doubted that it would help with your current level of heightened insecurity.
Maybe you were worrying for no reason. It wasn't Astarion who made you feel out of place. Well… it was, but not because of anything he did. Just… who he had become. He was so different now, so much colder to everything and everyone but you. More calculating, less forgiving, and just perfect for working with the most dangerous individuals in the mortal plane.
You seemed to be the only living thing he could relax around anymore, the only person who could soften him. It was strange really. You used to remember his softer side, before the ritual. The way his heart would hurt for children and animals alike, despite his failed attempts to hide it. His soft spot for Karlach, those who were brave and brazen, always willing to do the right thing despite the risks. The kind smile he used to have, reserved for beautiful things like the sunrise, the sunset.
Gone, all of it. It was a fact that you didn't like to think about. What you both gave up, things could have been; there was no point to it anyway. It was over. You gave Astarion the choice, this is what came of that. So here you were, obsessing over your appearance in preparation for a meeting with a high-ranking devil.
How things had changed.
You had no idea if you would ever find a way to match up with the company he kept around these days. Maybe it was your own fault for surrounding yourself with otherworldly creatures, but it was hard not to feel inadequate.
It didn't help that whenever you even slightly alluded to that insecurity, Astarion was more than ready to remind you of your… "options".
"You can join us whenever you'd like my treasure," Astarion would say with a creeping grin, "Just one bite, and we can be sure you'll be mine forever. Would that be so bad?"
It was a tempting offer, one that you kept insisting on refusing. You loved Astarion more than anything. But… you wanted that love to stay your choice. An obligation you maintained of your own free will. It's not that you didn't trust him… but to be a spawn had too many implications for you to handle.
"What has you pouting sweet thing?"
You startled when hands suddenly settled on your hip, gripping through the thin fabric of your nightdress. You looked back, relaxing the slightest bit to see Astarion smiling down at you, amused at the fact he'd managed to sneak up on you through the mirror.
"You said you weren't going to do that anymore," You whined as you leaned back into him, your eyes turning back to the mirror. You could see the fabric of your slip indented under his hands, ghost-like without his actual image reflecting back.
"I lied," Astarion said simply, leaning down to breathe you in from the crook of your neck, "Now what are you thinking about pet? I can tell something's on your mind."
You bit your lip, debating for a moment if you should tell him or not. But it's not like he would let it drop, and he was way too good at being able to tell when you were lying. Might as well come clean.
You sighed, "I don't…I don't know if I'm cut out for this."
You expected him to huff at you, maybe even laugh. But instead, the grip he had on you tightened, hard enough to make you gasp. You could feel his fangs scraping against your delicate skin, scratching hard enough to cause pinpricks of blood to bead out.
"And why would you ever think a thing like that?" Astarion asked, his voice harsh and low, "Where else would you be if not by my side hm? Please, enlighten me."
You gulped, your heart rate starting to pick up. You hadn't meant it like that, "That's not what I meant-"
"Then what else could it have meant?" Astarion shot back, his hands digging into you, surely ready to leave finger-shaped bruises. Suddenly he was using that same grip to drag you backward to the bed, effortlessly settling you between his spread legs.
All while managing to still be right in sight of the mirror. You could feel your cheeks redden as his hands started to wander, unceremoniously tugging down the straps of your nightdress to reveal your chest. That was another thing about life after the ritual that had been a surprise, just how different Astarion's sex drive was. It's not like he was a prude before, far from it, but now he was insatiable. Always ready and willing to touch you whenever the urge struck him. Often enough for you to eventually come to the thrilling, if not slightly disturbed realization, that… he was training you. Training your body to always want his touch.
And tonight was no different. You could already feel yourself getting wet, and he had barely done anything yet. But then suddenly he was pinching your nipple harshly, hissing in your ear, "I expect an answer when I ask you a question darling."
You bit back a moan, trying to remember what you were even arguing about as he started to play with your breasts, "I-I didn't mean it like that. I just… I don't want to embarrass you."
It was humiliating to admit but it was true. Not many people of Astarion's caliber insisted on a singular lover. There were so many people after him now, people with more power, more beauty, and grace. You didn't match up. You couldn't.
"Nonsense," Astarion dismissed, his hands wandering down to tear off more of your clothing, "Look at you. You were made for this life. Made for me. You're gorgeous."
The compliments mixed with the harsh feeling of his hands ripping your nightdress in two was quite the experience. You could feel his own hardness pressing into your backside, twitching as he threw your ruined clothing to the side.
Then he was gripping your chin, forcing your head back up to stare into the mirror in front of you, "I said look."
You obeyed, eyes widening at what you saw. It was so strange to see yourself like this, fully exposed with your legs spread apart, flushed and panting. It nearly gave the illusion that your very image was what was causing the wetness between your legs, instead of the invisible man toying with you.
You swallowed, your throat dry as Astarion's hands wandered lower, a feather-light touch tracing up and down your slit, "You are everything. The sole reason that I'm the man I am today. There is nowhere else you should be than right here."
"But-" You gasped, your words interrupted by a sharp slap to your inner thigh. You could see your skin start to redden in the mirror, a perfect imprint left in it's wake.
"Darling, are you questioning my judgment? What on earth made you think that was a good idea?"
You frantically shook your head, moaning when his fingers delved deeper, playing with your slick folds, "I-I'm not. I didn't- I'm sorry."
You whined as he roughly pinched your clit, his other hand moving upward to do the same to your heaving chest.
He was starting to grind his hardness against you, a tease of more to come as he murmured in your ear, "There's my good girl. Was that so hard?"
You shook your head, gasping as he finally dipped his long fingers into your cunt. You were already so sensitive, humiliatingly close in a matter of minutes.
"So gorgeous," Astarion sighed, staring straight ahead to the sole image of you, whimpering as he finger-fucked your pussy, "So needy. Can you see how wet you are pet?"
You could, you were leaking around his fingers, that needy, intense feeling getting more and more intense by the moment. It was so embarrassing seeing yourself like this, enough so that you snapped your eyes shut.
A bad idea. Astarion tutted at you, landing another sudden and hard slap to your thigh, "None of that. I told you to look. Or else."
You snapped your eyes back open, watching yourself whimper and gasp as you were played with, the harsh movement of his hand jostling your breasts. You weren't going to last much longer, not with the image of you being taken apart, the feeling of him inside you, the mean edge to your love's words.
"You're such a silly little thing, aren't you?" Astarion growled, fucking you harder and faster. You were so close, but you weren't stupid enough to come without permission. Not after what he did the last time, "Doubting me. Do you really think I don't know what's best for you? What's best for us?"
"No," You whimpered, your hips arching backward to rub harder into his erection, "You're right, I-I'm yours. C-Can I come now? Please?"
"Beg me and maybe I'll think about it," Astarion meanly laughed, relishing in the gush of slick his harshness coaxed from between your legs, "Beg and apologize. Apologize for doubting us. For doubting me."
You could barely get the words out through your own gasps, tears prickling in the corner of your eyes, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean it!"
"Good girl," Astarion huskily laughed, using a clever thumb to rub over your swollen clit, "Now tell me you love me."
"I love you," You said easily, meaning every word, "I love you more than anything.
"Tell me you'll never leave me. Ever."
There was something else behind that promise. An obvious implication that your fucked-out brain was too distracted to see.
"Never," You promised, reaching back for you him. You curled your fingers into his hair. pulling his head down to press his mouth against your throat. An open invitation, "I'll always be with you."
Astarion groaned against your skin, his fangs so close to piercing, "Precious pet, how could I ever want anything else? Come darling, you've earned it."
Then he was biting you, the brief flash of pain the perfect trigger for you to fall over the edge. You came with an embarrassingly high-pitched whine, slumping back into Astarion as he drank from your throat.
You looked as much of a mess as you felt, the stickiness between your thighs glistening in the light. You watched yourself, whimpering as Astarion slipped his fingers out. Just to tap them against your lips, forcing them into your mouth to suck on.
You moaned around them, light-headed as Astarion popped off of your throat. You sighed as he licked at the wound, enjoying the brief moment of rest. You weren't naive enough to think that you were done yet. Not when Astarion was still hard, his cock pulsing against you.
"See?" Astarion huskily laughed, licking the blood off of his lips while he played with your tongue, "You're perfect. Perfect and mine."
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suiana · 4 months
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Hiiii! I discovered your blog recently and I’m loving it!!!!  
Can I request a yandere who’s your younger brother best friend? (you’re both adults ofc)
He always had a crush on you but you always brush it off as some innocent little crush until your parents and your brother went on vacations (you couldn’t go cause you had to work) and he offered to stay with you so you wouldn’t be alone. And in the middle of the night he gets in bed with you while you’re sleeping and touches you
I'm sorry if this too specific 😅
(yandere younger brother's best friend x gn! reader) (cw: implied nsfw+stealing+drugging+slight somno, yandere stuff, manipulation)
you know the weird feeling you get in your gut whenever you sense something off?
yeah, you're currently feeling it.
and it's weird because... you're home alone. well not alone, your younger brother and his best friend are home.
but they're playing some game, holed up in his room so technically you're alone. so why are you feeling a sense of dread? did you leave the stove on? did you forget to submit some assignment? were you going to get killed?
...
nah, that can't be it.
you must just be overthinking. everything's fine after all.
maybe you're just tired. what you need is sleep.
so that's what you did, you turned off the television, walked to your room, got in bed, and went to sleep.
but when you woke up a few hours later, the feeling of anxiety only increased.
you woke up in cold sweat, shivering in your bed as you looked around. nothing was off, nothing at all. but why was your body on high alert? why?
your eyes took in every crevice of your room, trying to see if there was an intruder of sorts. nothing. wait, were those a pair of eyes in your closet? no way.
you blink several times and they were gone.
...maybe you need a drink. yeah, a drink.
you got out of bed, hand clutching your phone as you walked to the kitchen. pouring yourself a glass of water, you nervously scrolled tiktok to ease your nerves. but it didn't work. if anything, it only served as a reminder of how quiet the house was, even with the presence of two other guys-
what was that?
nervously turning around, your eyes were wide open as you prepared for the worst. that sounded like glass breaking! what if someone broke in- oh, it was just your younger brother's best friend...
you immediately let out a sigh of relief, not even bothering to notice how his hands were clenching around something that look oddly like your underwear and how his cheeks were flushed way too red for this cold weather.
"you scared me."
you laugh, drinking your glass of water as your brother's best friend chuckles awkwardly in response. well, at least the weird feeling in your stomach seemed to disappear. not totally but it wasn't as present as it once was.
"uh, sorry about that. just wanted to stretch my legs."
he stuffs his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, looking away from your face as he chews on his bottom lip. you smile at his response, shaking your head slightly as you walk back to your room. he was always awkward around you. this behavior was normal.
"yeah, don't worry about it! remember to tell my brother to drink some water, yeah? you too!"
you remind with a slight grin before patting him lightly on the shoulder. he flinches at the contact before calming down. huh, was he on edge too? he never flinches... especially when you touch him. weird.
whatever, maybe he was feeling extra paranoid today too. you soon got back into bed, laughing at your paranoia as he weird feeling in your stomach seems to gradually disappear.
and you even managed to fall asleep not too long after! how amazing!
and irritatingly convenient. it's almost like you were considerate for him and his obsession with you.
he soon slips back into your room, crouching beside your bed as he stares intently at your figure. his cheeks are flushed as he gently strokes your cheek with shivering fingers.
ah, you were so adorable when you got all scared and worked up. and he even got a front row seat to your fear through the gap of your cupboard! shit, do you know how hard he had to hold himself back from moaning out loud at the sight?
but it doesn't matter anymore. not when you were fast asleep.
god you looked so sweet like this, all passed out and vulnerable...
it was a little hard to get your brother to drink the intoxicated drink but the fact that he got to see this... ah, it was so damn worth it.
his hands trail down to your pretty lips, playing with them before he stops. his head drops as he lets out a soft sigh. his pants were painfully tight right now...
he then looks back at you, chewing on his bottom lip. you... wouldn't mind, right? he wouldn't be doing anything to you so... he's just doing it beside you!
if anything, it should be fine because you two would be dating soon anyways! it's fine... at least it's what he tells himself.
it's fine.
he repeats as his hand goes to undo his belt.
it's fine.
he mutters as his hand clutches your bed sheets.
it's fine.
he moans as he strokes your face.
yeah, of course it would be fine. you were meant to be his after all. he was just doing what any boyfriend would do when their significant other turns them on!
but it wasn't enough.
he shouldn't do more. he knows it. but... he can't help himself. he'll just touch your cute face a bit more... and stain your sheets a weird white...
and he's sorry that he's doing it but you were just so pretty! if anything... it's your fault! how dare you tempt him even in your sleep.
don't worry, it's not like you'll remember his touches when you wake up... plus, he didn't even do anything too drastic so... it's not that bad, right?
as long as you didn't suspect him, everything would be fine.
so just don't think too much and... don't listen to your gut, okay?
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thexianzhoujade · 24 days
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YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN HER | genshin impact fanfiction. zhongli x gn!reader — angst, hurt/no comfort, hanahaki disease, mentions of blood, gagging, death, decomposition, dealing with grief and guilt. not proofread or edited.
idle chatter. this is also a reupload from my old blog... i'm such a thief gasp <3 library waiting list. @lovingluxury @dumbificat @starryshinyskies @ryuryuryuyurboat @ainescribe @bfjax @soleillunne @sangoqueenkoko
aventurine's addition. "alexi will forget if i don't remind her - here is the link to 'you're not her,' the first part of this angst."
the scene haunts him vividly. it creeps into every crevice of his mind, every nerve that has harboured all the knowledge he could ever acquire over these past centuries; it affects his psyche. in the darkness behind his eyelids - should he be brave enough to dare let his eyelashes sink shut - he sees every detail left of his beloved - you.
the guilt eats at him, nagging at his bones and tearing at his flesh, leaving only remnants of searing pains when he can't help but blame himself that he let it get this far - that he even let it happen. it was something so simple that he could avoided, at least that's what he tells himself. zhongli isn't stupid, not when he's walked teyvat this long and seeked enough knowledge for his own curiosity - albeit never comparable to that of the dendro archon. he knows it couldn't have been avoided, for that is why the guilt rips him apart so brutally.
but yet there is one simple way it could have been avoided. he should have never fell in love with you. the thought aches his heart and he finds his grip tightening around the tea cup in his hands, paled knuckles concealed by his oh-so-familiar gloves. amber eyes resembling the cor lapis native to his own country close shut and the horrific scenes creep back in.
the man admits to oversleeping that morning, the comfort of familiar bedsheets drowning him in a warmth incomparable to anything else. his routine with you was a simple one; he was always the last to bed but always the first to rise. zhongli used it as an excuse for you to never see his bare skin, the dark tones that cover his large hands and fade up his arms, decorated in veins of golds and oranges. he would get up and dressed, pulling black gloves over his hands before your eyelashes could even flutter open.
that was the way your relationship had ticked for the months it had been ongoing. that was the way zhongli kept his deepest secrets locked away, thinking it was for the best; it wouldn't cause problems if you knew, you was a mortal. zhongli knew he was facing the sandglass of time when it came to your life in the first place. is that what shattered the sandglass so soon? ending your life with a severed tie that happened too early, taking you from him when he was least prepared?
the bed was empty by the time zhongli awoke. the first fleeting thought that crossed the geo archon's mind was his secrets, his hidden gems - had you seen it all? had you left him? the second thought to cross his mind was in regards to your safety. he was certainly no fool, he knew he had enemies even with the lack of people who knew his true identity. you never rose before him and at least he would have expected you to wake him.
zhongli has traced the corridors and winding paths of your shared house many times. he's taken the stairs so much they're worn from the use of you both - and your guests, when the likes of xiao, hu tao or your friends come to visit. in every footstep, the man has memorised every inch of the house; every painting, every vase, every floorboard and in these steps he takes routinely, he knows the house is never this silent however there's no proof of a break-in. there's no distress, no signs of damage or disruption.
the earth has taken your body for its own in the span of a few hours, vines creeping across your body as if to tie you to the ground. celestia forbid someone tried to give you a proper burial, your clothes and skin stained in a dark red as the blood that flooded out of your mouth hours ago begins to oxidise. it paints the grass surrounding you and in the summer heat of the liyue sun, it creates a foul stench that suffocates the garden you'd spent so much of your time in.
there are flowers beginning to bloom on the vines tethering you to the earth, in shades of white so pure, it pales in comparison to the glaze lilies that had damaged your internal organs so ferociously. the sweet floral scents create a bitter tang in the air mixed with the metallic waft of blood and the unforgettable smell of the unavoidable rot your body was going through in the heat. this is what undeniably lead him to find you.
it makes him gag, turning his head away the second he steps outside into what is usually the clean air of liyue's countryside. his eyes fall to the pile of wilted glaze lilies you'd compiled in the far corner, hidden behind an apple tree you'd been growing. it's beginning to finally bear its fruits. zhongli notes that you will never see your apple tree's first harvest.
it feels as if he's stabbed in the chest when he finally musters the courage to look at you - or rather, what he thinks is you. your cheeks are sunken and your skin is beginning to tighten against muscles and bone, this isn't the you he remembers kissing goodnight last night. this isn't the you that would pepper kisses on his face when he expresses how tired he is after his shifts at the wangsheng funeral parlour.
this isn't who he fell in love with. this wasn't the human he should have never fell in love with because by gods, if there was anyone zhongli should have known to trust the least, it should have been celestia. he was a fool for thinking he could ever get away with loving a mortal, even after faking his death and attempting to step away from the title of the geo archon. he was still immortal up until his eventual erosion. he had still seen centuries past and people die around him.
was this celestia's curse upon you for his own regretful actions? the things he shouldn't have done and most certainly shouldn't have said? the sultry whispers and lingering touches that he knew was wrong from the start? but he loved you. he knew he loved you.
the scene of sharp branches coated in blood twisting and turning out of your mouth is unpleasant and the grass surrounding you is a distasteful red as he falls limp to his knees beside your growth - your corpse. his hands, free from their gloves, fumble with leaves and vines, attempting to pull them clear from your face in his shaking grasp as his thumbs gently wipe under your closed eyes, caked with dry blood.
your name falls from his parted lips when bitter tears sting his eyes for the first time in centuries. there's a raw emotion ripping him to the shreds and that was long buried in the depths of his very being - grief. it swallows him, forcing a choked sob from him as he hunches over what was his lover. he closes his eyes, holding his breath to keep from breathing in that sickening, overwhelming stench as he tries to remember your face from last night.
those distinct features he'd fell in love with, the glitter of your eyes and that smile he loved oh so much - he recalls the times hu tao managed to draw that smile onto your face with her mere presence. zhongli gags at the thought of having to tell her and the others about your death. does he lie again? you passed away in your sleep - but where has lying got him in the past? here.
why hadn't you told him? had baizhu been behind this too? after all this time he assumed the doctor could be classed as a loyal friend, zhongli realises that he was wrong. if he hadn't of kept it a secret, could zhongli have saved your life? the archon grimaces. this is not the time to be doubting the security of the relationships he has with the people around him. even as he contemplates the reasons you kept your disease secret from him, he runs over every thought of loving you.
to him, he would never love anyone or anything as much as he loved you. nothing could ever be comparable to his love for you; not even after all these centuries of aimlessly wandering teyvat and not even for all the future centuries that he would continue to walk, heartbroken and grief-stricken without you by his side for even a few more years.
you should have been her.
⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹
© thexianzhoujade 2024. | reblogs appreciated | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.
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lorelune · 6 months
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hell is a hound without a chain
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|| blade x gn!reader || M || yandere wolf hybrid blade || wc: 3.8k  || ao3 ||
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A bite is quite a burden.
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minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni
a/n: folds hands man ... hybrid blade is sure something. i chewed on this au for a minute because truly hybrid blade is such a flavor. a toothy one. enjoy loves!!
CW: dark content, hybrid AU, wolf hybrid blade, yandere blade, reader is not a hybrid, biting, claiming bites, caretaking, victim blaming, injured reader, references to reader drinking casually
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You ache.
Your neck hurts.
It’s hurt for the past few days, and you imagine it will continue to hurt for the next several weeks, considering that Blade is not allowing you to heal in any meaningful capacity.
You sit on the bathroom counter, a bit teary-eyed, with Blade standing between your legs. A scented candle sputters on a small shift. Blade’s tail swishes. Annoyed. Ears twitching and jaw locked. There’s a first aid kit open beside you and it's running low on gauze and antibiotic ointment.
You sniffle as Blade pats at the wound on your neck. He’s being… gentle. For him anyway. The contact and disinfectant still sting and you hiss at the sensation and jerk away.  
Blade stills.  
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"I’ll bind you again." His hand cups your jaw— too tightly. "Would you like to force my hand?"
"No, n-not really.” You sound pathetic. You want to cry. You probably will. "It hurts. I'm sorry."
Blade sighs but doesn't press you. He trades the disinfectant for a slather of ointment and prepares a gauze pad. The piece he cuts is larger than normal. It’s the size of his palm. You suppress the urge to feel for the wound on your neck and check its size and depth. You haven't gotten a good look at it yet. Judging by the red stain soaking down the front of your shirt, it’s a worse wound than normal. 
Blade has made it a routine to freshen the bite mark on your neck at least once a week. He always sinks his teeth into the same spot while other, less severe marks decorate your throat and shoulders (and chest and stomach and thighs, but those are easier to dismiss.) The mark he worries the most, the one that you know he associates with some animalistic claim, is on your side, broken flesh splitting where your neck meets your shoulder.
...
You first... 'earned' it after leaving Blade to his own devices for a weekend. 
It was just a beach trip with a few friends. Kafka encouraged it— you needed to stretch your legs. ‘Bladie’ as she so affectionately referred to your hybrid, was more than capable of taking care of himself. He was doing so long before you came into the picture and formally offered your home up to him. Besides, he’d had several months to settle into your home, hadn’t he? Kafka goaded you into accepting a “well-deserved” break. Himeko seemed... hesitant about the arrangement at the time. She warned that hybrids can get a bit prickly about being left alone, even if they are independent. 
("They tend to hold grudges.")
The trip was a mistake. 
It had been a lovely weekend. Kafka had thrown her card down for a beachside cabana at a resort. Drinking sweet fruity cocktails, lounging in the sun, and generally relaxing. It was... nice to be out and not worried about Blade. He knew where you were. He had a phone with an internet connection that he knew he could use, and he didn't bother to contact you. You figured he was enjoying the break from his typical vigilance. Perhaps he was enjoying not having an owner to stalk around and guard.
You were wrong. Wildly.
The moment you arrived home (you hadn't even set your bags down—), Blade was on you. Pressed into your own door, he growled and spat that you smelled “wrong”. You asked him what he meant— you nervously joked you could take a quick shower and make dinner. Whatever he wanted. Your voice had trembled, and your breath had started coming too quickly. 
His gaze pierced you a moment later, a growl ripping from his mouth, lips curling back. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the way he grabbed your jaw, jerked your head to the side, and buried his teeth in your neck. He covered your mouth with his palm when you screamed. Muffled any shout or cry for help. You knew Blade was strong, but you hadn't ever realized how strong. You were immobilized between him and his teeth and the door.
By the time he withdrew and lapped at the wound he'd made, you were sobbing, scrambling to get away, run, shut yourself in your room, and try to figure out how the fuck to handle this situation—   but Blade hadn't let you far. He cleaned the wound first with his tongue, then a damp rag, then dressed it properly as has become routine. He carried you to bed and curled around you. Arms locked around your waist, legs tangled. It would’ve been sweet if he was your lover.
(But, he is not. He is a wolf you foolishly allowed into your home.)
The reality of your situation began to sink in then. Slowly. Bit by bit. 
Blade freshens the bite about once a week, give or take. If he's feeling antsy, it's less. If you're more compliant, more tethered to home, or dare to take him in public with you, he leaves it alone. Allows it to almost heal before digging his canines into the rapidly thickening layers of scar tissue.
It's awful of him, but you don’t think he'll ever stop now that he's intent on marking you. You had been stupid to think of yourself as anything other than a claim to him, hadn't you?
A few tears drip down your cheeks as Blade secures the dressings. He dabs them away with the side of his finger, careful not to scratch you with his blackened claws. He brackets you in on your sides. He tips his forehead against yours and deflates.
"Bed," he says. It's something akin to a request. He'll take you there, anyway, but being given a warning feels like a luxury.
"Okay." Your voice is quiet. Scratchy from shrieking against his palm less than an hour before.
Blade scoops you up and ferries you to bed. He pauses to throw an extra blanket onto his... nest (even if it's on your bed). It’s a quilt he favors, worn through but soft. His preference for it would be endearing under different circumstances. 
He runs a hand through your hair, trailing his touch down to the wet collar of your shirt, “You need to change. You’re dirty.”
As is routine, he pulls your shirt off as you squirm. You lightly shove at his chest, if only to make yourself feel better. Resist a little for your own pride, despite knowing it’s useless. Your modesty doesn’t matter to Blade (not if it’s just him and you in the room. He’s permitted himself to your skin in the most non-traditional ways.) Regardless, you aren’t bare for long. He replaces your shirt with his own. It’s warm and too big. His frame is almost inhuman, and it gapes around your shoulders.
Blade cajoles you to the headboard and lets you fuss a bit along the way. He sits behind 
you and settles you between his thighs. The knit blanket is pulled over your lap and his arms wind around your waist, unyielding. Locking you there. Blade tucks his face into your neck on the... less injured side. He scents you there with a half-there growl. 
You rub at your puffy eyes. Your chest hurts.
"You need to rest." Blade tells you. He tells you this often. He's more in tune with your physical state than you are these days, so you appreciate the reminders. You feel half out of your body. 
"... Oh yeah?" you laugh, voice wobbly. "I should, huh? Don't I need to make dinner?"
"Unnecessary." Blade replies. He squeezes you. "You need to rest, first. I will prepare a meal."
"... Sure." Blade doesn’t do particularly well in the kitchen. "I can rest, then cook, okay? If you can wait that long? Otherwise, I can cook then rest later too—"
Then Blade really growls. It’s the kind that you feel between your ribs and makes you go stiff. His mouth opens, too hot against the fragile skin near your neck, and the points of his canines rest. Idle. You start to shake. 
"You will rest." Blade tells you. "I... went too harshly on you. You are weak. You need to rest. I will cook so you do not need to. I cannot guarantee that it will be any good, but you should not be on your feet."
You laugh. something rotten curls in your belly.
There’s care in the way that Blade speaks about you. He rarely speaks in such a forward way— it’s hard for him. You can hear how he struggles between certain words. How the sentences are harder for him to construct. The sentiment of care is not easy for him. This makes sense— as he is a wolf that has you in his jaws. There is not care in slaughter. An animal’s claim is just that. A claim. Baseless. Primal. A twitch that follows an instinct, maybe. 
Hearing him say things that could be kind makes you want to vomit.
You dig your nails into Blade's forearms. His hold constricts.
"Why would you care?" You snap. "Don't act like you give a shit about my wellbeing, as if you didn't just take a fucking chunk out of me."
It's the wrong thing to say. You know this. It’s better to not anger him. But it's hard to care when you’re this tired and worn down. Self-preservation is an afterthought. You feel spiteful, terrified tears burn your eyes. You wait for a wolf’s violence as Blade tenses and goes still behind you.
Preparing for the kill, you presume.
Instead, however, his mouth closes, and soft lips press into your throat. No teeth. No apparent ire. No mouthy attitude. And he stays quiet. Somehow drags you closer into the solid, warm line of his front. He is solid, maybe a little softer than when he first moved in with you. 
"My mark on you is protection, even if you do not realize it." Blade tells you. You figured as much, but it doesn't justify it. "Anyone who smells or sees you knows that you are claimed."
"Yeah, so everyone knows I've got some bully of a wolf at home, ready to tear my throat out?"
(You've read his file, you know he's capable of it.)
"I wouldn't." Blade's voice grates, low and angry. “I... I wouldn't. Not to you."
"If you say so."
"I mean it." He punctuates it with a kiss. He's half-hard against your lower back and you swallow. "I... I do not know how else to convey to you that you are cared for. That you are mine."
(You’re not sure you believe him. There are other, crueler ways he could. On your more anxiety-ridden nights, you’re grateful that Blade’s touch hasn’t strayed there. Never. He hasn’t ever touched you like that, with that part of him. Anything below your neckline is all teeth and tongue. Violence is his language of physicality, you've found. Pleasure he seems foreign to.)
"I'm yours?" You dig your nails in and his tail slaps the bed. good. You'll bear the consequences later. Best to get it all out of your system. "When did I agree to this?"
Blade thinks, for a moment. You doubt he'll be able to find when you did agree because you haven't.
"You allowed me into your home. Bed. I wear a collar with your name on it when I must leave this place." Blade tells you. His hand cups your chin, turning your face toward his, and his nails tease over your cheeks. "What did you think all of that meant?"
Your stomach drops. 
"... A kindness?"
“An offering." He corrects. He noses into your jaw, scenting again. His touch drifts under your soft shirt, resting over your tummy. "One that was accepted."
"Oh."
It hits you. All of it. Awareness is like being dunked in ice water, suffocating on it, and throwing it back up. Kafka had once warned you that hybrids think so differently from humans. You figured the differences would be... obvious. Easy to sort through.
You were, once again, so wrong.
You want to tell Blade that that's not what you meant. That you opened your home and heart because he was a beaten down stray who clearly needed a home— one where he was the only one of his kind. Where he had the attention he needed to thrive, and the space to do so too. That you signed your name on the necessary paperwork not as a proposition but as a gesture of care. 
In the same moment, you realize that even if you do tell all of this to Blade, it wouldn’t matter. This misunderstanding has been steeping for months beyond your control. You feel stupid. Foolish. So naive it hurts. There’s a bite mark dug into the flesh of your neck that will never really scar. If Blade can help it, it will never fully heal. You’ll bear it bloody... forever. 
“You smell wrong.” Blade huffs against your neck. He squeezes over your hips, rubbing little circles into the soft flesh.
Can he smell when you’re upset?
Probably. Blade always got particularly cagey when you would return home from the rare trip into the office. You were always exhausted, on edge, and overstimulated from a full day of endless everything. Blade would follow you around on those days, never letting you out of his sight. He’d wrap you up in blankets from his bed. Shove you in his clothes. Hand-fed you in his lap despite the fact his hands were too big and arthritic. 
Was that care? 
(So, so clearly.)
You don't realize you're on the verge of tears until you open your mouth to speak and nothing comes out but a wounded, awful cry. Like you're the pained animal and not Blade. 
"Hush." Blade tells you. He smooths your shirt— his shirt over your front, over your chest in a way that makes your breath hitch and squirm uncomfortably. He’s burning hot against your back. "You are safe. You can rest now."
Is that care?
Tears slip from the corners of your eyes. They’re angry, tired, and sad all at once. You try to suck them down the best you can.
Blade pulls you at you, sinking you into the sheets. He spoons you, flush against your back, hot and soft in all the ways that matter. You bury your face into your pillow when he runs a soothing, clawed hand up and down the back of your neck.
For a moment, you consider your options. It’s immediately overwhelming. Defeating. 
You know that there is nothing you can do about your position. You could rear up, slap Blade, and scramble for the door. There are organizations. Sections of government that handle situations like this. You might be able to get to your phone. At least text someone that things have gotten out of hand.
You also know that Blade would not allow this. He'd not allow you out of bed, let alone this room. He'd have you pinned, belly to the bed with a hand dug into your hair to brace you there. He'd let you squirm and kick and scream. He'd bruise you in return— leave his own marks. another set of molted hickeys across your shoulders.
He'd probably push at the freshly bloodied claim on your neck too. Never mind that he just patched you up. 
It's hopeless, and the knowledge hits you so hard that you feel winded. You scramble against the bed to grab onto the sheets, and you cry. It’s in your chest. You sob and cry so hard it hurts. The sounds you are making are ugly and broken. The feeling between your eyes is burgeoning into an acidic headache, and your mouth is somehow dry even as you get spit on the soft sheets. 
Despair is not beautiful. It’s toxic and infecting. 
Despite this, Blade does not move away. He is steadfast, and curls overtop of you. He hushes you with his simple, curt words and a low rumble in his chest that's hard to identify. It soothes something in your hindbrain you wish you could kill. His lips press into your hair. His touch is solid, bruising, but not maiming
Violence... shouldn't be comforting.
And yet— yet it is. When the tears come slower, and morph into hiccups as you desperately try and catch your breath, Blade... helps, you realize. His mane of hair spills over your face, like a curtain to darken the room. His hand slips to your front, under your shirt once more so it's his palm against the clammy skin of your chest.
"Breathe." He tells you. It's a command. "Like this."
His hand strokes up and down, in time with his own slow, deep breaths. There's the terrifying edge of his claws, blackened and sharpened, but they never cut in enough to gore. Only enough to remind you that they’re sharp— to maim, to protect— (what’s the difference to a wolf like him?) You're drained, and you can only follow his lead, sucking in breaths that become more steady with each one.
There's nothing left in you by the time you settle. You're wrung out, emptied and so tired. It's clarifying, maybe. As Blade pets you into sleep, you shakily bring a hand to press over the covered, weeping wound in your neck. A full moon of teeth marks. Even the light touch aches.
Blade nips at your hand, nosing it away. 
(How terrible, really. To be cared for by a beast who believes love and violence are one in the same. How terribly idiotic of you to not notice. How... cruel of Kafka for never connecting the dots for you. You’re sure she must’ve taken note, at some point, of Blade’s claim on you and its implications. She was once in your position, but knowing her own disposition, Blade never took her like he’s taken you.)
(Himeko probably noticed as well. But, she’s the type to only step in if she thinks she can make a difference. She has her own self-preservation in mind, and you can respect that. Mostly. Perhaps she saw Blade’s claim taking shape and realized that a Wolf’s bite is not something she had the claws to interfere with. She has her own hybrids to take care of. You ignored her words of caution in the beginning when she first offered them.)
(It’s hard to fault her.)
(And how can you fault Blade for his instincts? Perhaps you were too kind. You lacked caution— self-preservation— whatever you wish to call it. You put your own soft throat in the line of Blade’s bite. In retrospect, it’s frighteningly clear. It guts you. Over and over. The only thing that tethers you is Blade’s touch and breath against your neck. A reminder.)
(A reminder that you are his to tug and push and pull as he pleases. That he’ll leave bite marks where he desires, never to gore, but to show that you’re... protected.)
Isn’t there something alluring about that? 
It makes you shake all over again. It makes you muffle a fresh sob into your pillow and you beat your fists against the mattress. Blade lets out a growly word or two you can’t make out as he pins your wrists to the mattress.
It makes sense, now, why Blade always wanted to accompany you out on errands, if only to growl and bark at anyone who looked at you too long. You had thought he was just poorly socialized (partially true) — but he was snapping at strangers to make sure no one even thought of looking at you for too long. Let alone touch. Pursue. 
You have a hazy memory of a night at the cocktail bar. Kafka had asked you to come alone— ‘girls night’ again. Blade had given you the cold shoulder when you told him sheepishly that you’d be leaving him at home. Whatever alcohol dulls the memory, but you can recall Blade had thrown you over his shoulder the moment you had come home. You swayed and slurred your words and Blade looked ready to gut you. He threw you in bed, tore off the pretty dress that he had said was “far too revealing” and shoved you into one of his sleepshirts without listening to a single one of your protests. Your fighting and punching didn’t deter him— it didn’t make him any more aggravated. 
(“You’re stupid.” Blade had told you, roughly wiping a soft cloth over your face. Makeup smears on the fabric. “Why are you out in the dark? How did you get home?”
“... You’re silly. I took a cab.” You tell him with a frown. You bat at his ears and Blade grabs your arms with such force you’re scared they’ll break. 
“You’re reckless.” Blade had growled in your ear. “Do you know what you invite when you’re in this state?” 
“... A hangover?” 
Blade had stared at you, fuming. The next moment, his teeth were embedded in your neck and a pillow was shoved over your face as you wailed. Your vision swam as he pulled away, lips and chin smeared red. 
Blood stains his teeth as he drags you up by the collar, and spits— “Do you know how many men would eat you alive like this?”)
You realize now that there was an implicit— “And I’m not there to keep it from happening.”
There’s comfort in it. You feel disgusting, but the roiling behind your eyes is cut by how warm Blade is behind you. That he’s good at patching the wound on your neck, and attentive when you let him be. 
If you really can't escape Blade and your mutual incidental claim... maybe it could be okay. There’s some assurance that Blade will not gore you, only tenderly hurt for the sake of some instinct you will never feel, but are coming to understand. He is honest too. His words are solid. He is too straightforward to mince his words. They are never a riddle. There's safety in being underneath him as you are now. 
There's safety in him. You almost cry again. He'll hurt you but never rend apart into pulp as you know he could. He'll sink his teeth in but as a claim. His slaughter is accompanied by care— for you. Slaughter inflicted on others is instinctual violence born from different baser needs. It hits you, like a blow to the chest, that whatever brutality he could inflict on you, is only a fraction of what he would inflict for you.
"Oh," you say, so softly, as you realize. You feel foolish all over again. 
Blade makes a contented sound against your nape. Mouthing at you. His palm is settled at the base of your throat. "Your kind can be so slow. Now rest."
You laugh, blurting it out into your buttery sheets. There are specks of blood dotting the cream fabric, new and old. Fresh and faded. 
You'll have to restock your first-aid kit.
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dokidoki-muffin · 6 months
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Tickletober Day 27: Monster
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Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom | Link x Zelda
This is a collab with the lovely Ginny @otomiyaa 🥰✨ (previously @otomiya-tickles) We've been working on this for a while but given the recent circumstances we decided that I will post both, the two artworks and fic, on my blog as one. You can also read it on her 👉 AO3!! Word count: 1173
Zelda rubbed her eyes. How long had it been? Her stomach answered the question with a loud growl. Right. Past lunch time. For hours she had been sucked into her books and notes, investigating her latest discoveries about Hyrule and the Zonai. It was always like this when she was spending time at home, at her cozy shared house in Hateno, together with Link.
Speaking of Link… 
“Link, I think I might say yes to that lunch offer from earlier,” Zelda called out to Link who had been busy downstairs. She had heard him prepare lunch, turned down his offer to eat together despite the delicious smell. She had heard him eat, then the distant sounds of him rummaging around, and she kind of forgot that somewhere, in between all those moments, Link had announced to her that he would be going on a hunt. 
Not that the knowledge of his plans could have prepared her for the sudden sight of a… monster. Though, not a scary monster.
“Link?!” Zelda covered her mouth and literally held back a laugh. Barbarian armor. The most hideous Lynel mask she had ever seen… Link was looking absolutely hilarious.
“W-whahat are you dohohoing?” Zelda blurted out, failing to muffle her laughter as she continued to admire her boyfriend’s “monster attire”. 
“Going on a mission,” Link reconfirmed. He spread his arms. “Do you think they will fall for it?” he asked.
Well, one person was literally falling and it was Zelda, sinking to her knees as she couldn’t stop giggling.
“You look ridiculous hahaha!” she laughed. Monster Link cocked his Lynel head and scratched himself in a totally uncharming way.
“Do I?” he asked, and he slowly approached her. Eep! Zelda could immediately recognize his mischievous mood, but she couldn’t really do anything but laugh hysterically. Although, if that was laughter… Well, she wouldn’t know what to call what came next from her very own mouth. 
Squealing, shrieking, howling, whatever. But it was definitely loud. All because Link calmly lowered himself on top of her, straddling her while his fingers unleashed a merciless tickle attack on her poor stomach and sides. And Zelda happened to be very ticklish. 
“LIHIHINK! Ahahaha nohoho!” With the crazy mask that stared at her with its ugly eyes, and the relentless tickling on her lower torso, Zelda was suffering from a double laughing fit right now, and it was taking all her breath away.
“AHhhehehe Liiiiink whahaha!” Zelda cackled. Her hands failed to pry off her boyfriend’s hands that crept under her blouse, moving the fabric up to tickle her bare tummy and sides. Link’s monster act was definitely better than the looks of it. He remained quiet and proved to be an excellent tickle monster, with speedy fingers that carefully tickled their way from Zelda’s stomach all the way up her ribs and under her arms.
“EEEHEHEe nooooo Liiiink!” Zelda cried, but monster Link was serious about his little revenge - at least, that was what she thought it was. One does not simply laugh in the face of the Hero of Hyrule. 
“I gihihive! Plehehease!” Zelda laughed hysterically as Link kept scribbling persistently at her sensitive underarms. She could hear him break character under his mask: a playful giggle. Link finally stopped his attack on her and sighed. He still sat on top of her and watched her with that silly mask.
“It was that funny, hmm?” he commented when Zelda greedily caught her breath, blushing like crazy. Zelda nodded tiredly.
“Yeah,” she wheezed. They both giggled softly when her stomach suddenly growled again.
“Ah. Right, lunch. Late lunch,” Link muttered. It was so funny to hear him talk, still with that silly mask on. 
“I will get you something warm to eat,” he offered gently, moving off her, as he grabbed his mask.
“So, you’re staying around a bit longer then, Mr. Monster?” Zelda said teasingly, getting up as well and watching him walk to the kitchen.
Link nodded. “Yes, yes, I can stay a little longer. We can eat together first, and… uh…” Zelda watched him fiddle with the mask. He was tugging it, looking like he was trying to take it off, but… Zelda snorted once again.
“Wait, are you stuck?” she asked when Link continued to struggle with the ugly beast covering his face. Link shook his head wildly.
“Stuck? No, no. I just - I can’t get it off,” he muttered. Zelda slowly approached him with a smirk on her face.
“That’s the meaning of ‘stuck’, Link,” she said, and she wiggled her fingers from his exposed underarms down his sides. A delicious shriek filled their little house. 
“Hehehey! Nonono,” Link giggled nervously, stepping back and tumbling to the floor. Zelda followed him down and had him right where she wanted him for a nice and fitting payback.
“What’s this? Could it be that the tickle monster is in fact… ticklish himself?” Zelda sang, attacking Link’s tummy with fast scribbles. That’s one thing the barbarian set did well: it exposed his tickle spots and sensitive bare skin well. Way too well.
“Zehehehelda! Nohoho I’m sohohorry!” Link was quick to apologize for his tickly prank. He continued his attempts to take off the mask, flailing his free arm and kicking his legs. Link was so ticklish it was actually funny, but also the cutest thing in the world. Zelda smiled fondly, but went back into battle mode when she managed to snatch Link’s hand that tried to defend his tickle spots.
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“Now I got you, little monster,” Zelda said, holding his hand tightly while her other hand tickled Link’s exposed underarm. 
“HAAAaaahh!” Link’s loud screech must’ve scared the birds away around their house, and Zelda laughed along with him. Link, who wasn’t usually this vocal, now officially sounded like the monster he tried to be.
“Convincing,” Zelda said with a smile. 
“Just one more time,” she encouraged. It didn’t matter if Link would stake his attempts at taking off the mask. She tickled his armpit and drew out the loudest most precious squeals.
“Zehehehelda ahahaah! You wihiihin hahahha!” Link laughed. It was never a competition to begin with, but Zelda decided to accept his words of defeat. She grabbed the mask and tugged it off Link’s head. 
Link let out a tiny wail in pain when the mask got finally unstuck, probably stripping his head from a hair or two, but he let out a sigh of relief. Zelda admired his bright red face, and she giggled. The mask still between her hands, she leaned down and kissed his lips. And Link kissed her back.
“Let’s eat,” she suggested when they moved apart, and Link nodded.  “G-great idea,” he said with a cute blush on his face. The mask stayed off, for now, and Zelda was more than pleased to enjoy Link in his cute barbarian outfit a little longer before he would leave for his hunt. She couldn’t stop smiling. Well, well. Maybe this whole monster dress up was something they had to do more often!
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