#THANK YOU. FALLS TO MY KNEES AND WAILS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morgana-ren · 9 months

Note

i love angst, and i love your writing, but please, PLEASE, i beg you, could you write some hope of tav ever returning now that the imbecile, has realised the error of his ways 🥺😭 (either way, thank you so much, for all your astarion writtings, it has made me feel things, the angst is real and my masochistic heart loves it🥲)

First part of the story HERE

Common complaint I got on that one! So I fixed it just for y'all. This ending is much less sad and much more sappy, so here is the comfort you need after all that angst!

"Darling, will you smile for me? Just once more. Please--"

He feels her cheeks in his palms, the soft skin against his battle-hardened callouses. Desperation cradles his unbeating heart, and for a moment, the emotion is far too much. A searing flame after centuries of frost. A bonfire in a blizzard. It hurts-- it burns--

"My love, I just need you to--"

"Anything my lord, anything at all for you. Simply command me and I will do anything you ask."

"No, I can't-- I-- I won't do it. I won't. I won't!"

"My lord?"

Her head cocks, turning slowly to look upon him, but her eyes-- they are empty; beetle-black and hollow. Her smile is uncanny as a painted doll, her movements disjointed and inhuman. Her teeth are stained crimson with blood, dripping, dripping, ever dripping down, never swallowed, only pooling.

She is light as a feather as she slips away from him, her skin marbling into a sickly gray before ash spreads across her body as a disease, smearing her form into nothingness. Only her face is left untouched, pretty as porcelain, unflinching and unfalling save a small crack that splinters down from her forehead down to her eyes, revealing inky black abyss beneath.

"My lord-- Oh, my tender, vicious lord. I can feel your anguish-- your hunger. Devour me to be whole once more--"

Her blood smells of rot and she--

She is too far gone to save. Too far gone to ever be saved.

"I won't!"

Whirlwind. Pain. Confusion and dread and seeping anguish. A maelstrom of rage and all-consuming despair swelling from within his soul—

—his soul?

The world around him falls away, a wicked tornado thrashing him about, his mind howling in the eternal winds--

And suddenly he is in a chair.

Not a throne. A chair— and a rather uncomfortable one at that.

"What in the hells—"

His vision spins, nausea curling his gut into a wicked tide of sickness barely restrained by his teeth. He tastes stale blood crawling up his throat, threatening to overturn onto the faded rug beneath him.

"Did you see what you wished for, little spawn?"

The voice takes him by surprise. It is not hers, but another, less familiar voice. The wailing animal in his head retreats to a dull roar as his memory creeps back. A brightly colored tent assaults his vision, piecemeal rugs and odd, foreign trinkets abound on makeshift shelves, and before him sits a strange old woman, hood pulled heavy over her straggling gray hair.

"I-- What was that?"

He sees her cracked, aging lips upturn, gnarled hands placed protectively over a strange orb on the table touching his knees. "I have shown you your future, vampling. Was it to your liking?" Panic rises within his stomach again, and though he does not breathe, he clutches his chest. The smell of incense clogs his nostrils and again, the wave of sick threatens to spill forth. Wretched taste of metallic, aged blood sits heavy on his tongue, all sensation too much-- all of it too much.

"No-- No, that cannot be it!"

"This is your path, Pale Elf. The road you walk. The power you seek is well within your grasp, but as I told you before, it will cost you everything."

He vehemently shakes his head, denying it. Denying it before her and all the Gods.

"You told me upon entry that no price was too great for your reward. Do you still agree with this sentiment?"

"No! Not-- not her. Not her. Not that! I couldn't--"

"You can and you shall, sure as the moon follows the sun. You will have everything you ever wanted, but cost of this ritual is plain before you. You cared not for the many souls left to your mercy that are crushed beneath your tyrannical fist in your ascension, but what of the sole one that resides in your heart?"

Her. The light of his life. The air he breathes. The sun on his frigid flesh, the warmth that melts his icy heart.

"No," He hisses, trying to stand, but ultimately unable to muster the strength. "I won't! There-- There must be another way. Show me!"

"There is no other way," She says, solemnly. "It is inevitable."

He swallows down the information like a boulder lodged in his gullet. Her words echo endlessly in his mind, bouncing off the walls and lodging shards of ice directly in his soul.

"What if I-- What if I don't ascend? Tell me, what if I don't?"

She smiles again, teeth flashing through her thin lips. "That is another path, little elf." "I need to know. I-- I need certainty. I won't do this to her, but I--" He pauses, grappling with everything in his mind, desperately flitting about to absorb it all. "If I am going to forgo this, I need to be certain. I need to know that I can protect her, that she will be safe--"

But the woman simply shakes her head.

"Everyone must choose. For some, the path is dark, but for you, you see more than most will ever have the comfort of knowing. I can offer you nothing more. Should you initiate the Rite, you know this will come to pass. I can tell you nothing more if you choose to not. The future is yet unwritten, and the quill resides in your hands." "Then why can I not have both!" He slams a fist on the table, clawing at the soft wood. For the first time in ages, tears prick at his pale lashes and frustration wells a knot in his throat. "Why--" "Because one path is wholly your own, while the other is a tangled web, such is the nature of deals with the Hells. You will get everything you ever wanted and lose everything that made it worth having."

His head slumps, defeated and miserable. Silvery tears slide down the curves of his cheeks, even as he attempts to bite them back. He thought he would find comfort in knowing the future, but all it has given him is utter horror.

"Despair not," She continues. "Yes, you will wither under the sun, an eternally cursed dweller of the night, but all is not lost, is it? The one you love, will she stray from your side?" "I wanted her to have better than that," He sniffles, needling his lip with a fang. "I cannot brave the sun, but her-- She deserves better than that-- better than me."

"And what of what she feels?"

His brows furrow, and he peers up at the woman from tear-beaded lashes.

"You are a night walker; it is in your nature to be selfish. But love is not selfish, little vampling. You must fight your nature, your inherent self-loathing, or your love will always find the fire. What of what she desires?"

"She loves me," He says with absolute certainty. "And I--" "Do you love her?"

"Yes," He hisses, almost insulted that she would ask. "More than anything. I'm here, aren't I?"

"Then the rest matters naught. If you love her, you will allow her the agency to choose-- something you deny her as an ascendent. You must grow past your own follies. To love is to be vulnerable, and you must allow both yourself and her this freedom."

They are hard words to swallow, and yet, he feels the truth resound in them. She would not leave his side, even as he tried to force her to understand. Even as an instrument of his manipulation and schemes came to light, she stood steadfast with him, hand entwined in his, ready to face the fire together.

"I-- I need to know she will be safe."

Again, the woman shakes her head. "You cannot. You must fight fate if you wish to overturn it. You face dire odds, though throwing the dice in your favor now will doom you later should this outcome be the confirmation of your fears."

He sighs, face crinkling as he sniffs once more, summoning the willpower to swallow down the agony of his choice. He finds the strength in his legs to push himself upward from the chair, weak and shaking as a newborn fawn as he does so. "I will do whatever I need to. Anything."

"Then you may yet see this through."

He can hear the fanfare of the circus outside, the bawdy bards strumming away on their lutes and banging on drums, the elated screams of the children and their parents. Facing the light now seems impossible, but he must find his way home to her-- he has to be with her now now now--

"The coin first, boy."

He snaps out of his delirium only long enough to fish his hands into one of his pockets, bringing out a coin. Aged and neglected, the sinister engraving of a skull peers up at him from his palm, ruby eyes gleaming in the light as he tosses it into the woman's knobbily-jointed hands.

"Best of luck to you, night-child," She tucks it away. "We may yet meet again." "No offense, but I hope not."

"Me too, Little Star."

He pays little mind to the bustling streets and bursting taverns of Baldur's Gate, his feet carrying him back to camp as swiftly as his body will allow. It takes him until sundown even as he damn near jobs, ripping through the tree line and into the ruins with the intensity of a man starved.

"Astarion!" Karlach greets him, trying to wave him over. "I've got a bet with Gale about--" "Where is she?" Astarion immediately cuts her off, looking around frantically.

"Who?" Karlach raises a brow.

"Who else?" Wyll crosses his arms, looking intrigued at Astarion's intensity.

"Oh! In her tent, I think. Why? Gotcha a special something' in town for her, eh?" Karlach tries to rib at him, but he pushes past her without a second glance.

"Bet it's a fancy new dress he needs to tear off of her immediately," Karlach rolls her eyes before returning to her business.

He bursts into her tent to find her hunched over a book, tongue poking from between her teeth, as she scans over the page. This only lasts a few seconds before he scrambles onto the bed, squeezing her as tightly as he can manage, burying his nose into her hair, tears brimming in his eyes once more.

"Woah, hey!" She laughs, carefully setting her book aside, trying to discern what in the hells he is mumbling endlessly into her neck.

Need you-- need you-- love you-- can't lose you-- don't ever--

She hushes him, realizing something has gone terribly, terribly wrong, kissing his head and tugging him close. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She tries to cup his cheeks and bring his face up but he adamantly refuses, hard-swallowing the urge to bawl into her shoulder with every ounce of willpower he has. All he can manage is to cling to her, half sobbing, visions of that terrible future swimming in his head. He cannot let it come to pass, he will not--

And she holds him, cradling him in her arms, hushing him gently. Her face creases with worry, running her hands through his silvery hair as he pulls him into her lap.

"Little Star, what's wrong? You seem so upset. What can I do to make you happy, my love?"

"Is it done?" Ulma leans down as she enters the tent, carefully dodging the intricate tassels of the blanket strewn over the entryway.

"It is," The strange old woman replies, still rubbing the coin with her worn thumb.

"And?"

"I showed him nothing but truth," She says quietly. "I did not manipulate his vision. Only channeled it."

"That tells me nothing. I need to know if our children are safe."

"I cannot tell you this, Ulma. You know of the ways of our tribe; our relationship with these magics." Ulma's lips purse, her exasperation evident in her humorless expression. "I need to know--"

"His reaction was genuine. That was not my doing. He knows the price of power. I cannot tell you if he will pay it regardless," The old woman's head lifts, a slight mischievous smile playing on her lips. "But I can tell you what I think."

"And what do you think?"

"I have seen his soul-- the heart of it. I believe you will see our children yet. He will spare our heart to spare his own in kind. It beats in that woman," Her eyes twinkle in the low candlelight, a genuine smile widening across her cheeks. "I believe he can find redemption yet."

#morgana and friends #astarion #astarion spoilers #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #heh that last one messed yall up huh #heres a fix for it #SUPER sappy FYI #SO ENJOY!#I don't usually write sap (or angst) so I am bad at this #sorry its bad fellas #I GENUINELY could not think of a way for him to fix him becoming her cazador so uh #have a retconn #call this a fast fixer upper lmao

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cherry-leclerc · 9 months

Text

fucked-up little thrill ☆ cl16

genre: pwp but also porn with plot (the best of both worlds!), humor, she truly is a maneater in disguiseee

word count: 8.3K

There’s a difference between warning and danger - you happen to be both. Though, Charles only sees the green light, go. Well, we can all imagine how this will already go.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+...oral (m and f receiving), fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, riding, slight cry, unprotected sex

inspired by this and this !

“She’ll mess with your head, man. You’re going to wish she had never looked your way.”

“I told my mom about her. Crap, I bought her an engagement ring after a few days of knowing her.”

“Four words: Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

“Do you know how fucked in the head you have to be in order to willingly go after her? Fucking pathetic. Sure, I did the same, but hear me out-”

Despite the warnings, he didn’t pay them any attention. He thought he was going crazy for sure when he saw two guys on their knees, begging: Run, just do it. And whatever you do, don’t look back.

Charles wasn’t even listening.

The nights were beginning to get warmer, yet there was still a slight breeze. Spring was rolling in. What an innocent season to meet the wildest card Charles has ever dealt.

“...then she laughed so hard that, Jesus Mary and Joseph, my heart went bananas! Y’know what I did next? I asked her, ‘You want a slice?’ I meant the tiramisu, guys! She thought I was talking about myself! T’was the most embarrassing thing. Made me look like a bloody narcissist.” Lando whined as he leaned onto the table to hide his face.

George snorts. “Ah don’t worry mate, I would gladly take a slice.” Lando groans, further rubbing his forehead onto the table. So much so, that it began to squeak.

“Alright, calm down before you shed your skin off. It wasn’t that bad.” Alex voices, as he pops a curly fry into his mouth.

“Easy for you to say! You basically have the person you’re going to get married to! You’re safe.” The Brit pouts. He then lifts his head up and wipes away a single tear. Everyone explodes into laughter.

“Muppet, c’mon we were kidding! Weren’t we just fooling around, Charles?” Carlos wiggles his eyebrows at the Monegasque. Charles rolled his eyes playfully.

“Yes, of course we were joking,” he starts. Lando looks up, seemingly feeling better as everyone began to agree. We were just playing around!

“Then again, how did you even fall for a girl like that?” Charles finishes his sentence.

“Argh. You don’t get itttt,” Lando wails in defeat. “When you meet a girl like that, you don’t question it. You just thank God for sending her your way and then BAM! She just walks out of your life.”

Hm - Charles thinks to himself as he takes a sip of Martini - naive, naive little Lando.

Charles met you that same night he was out for dinner with the boys. He was waiting for his car from the valet; shooting Joris a quick text.

"Sorry," he overhears a soft voice, but still didn’t pay much attention.

"Sorry? You’re sorry? We both know goddamn well that you’re sorry about nothing. Nada. Zeeerrrooo," a man's voice angrily shouts back, voice slurring.

Charles turns and sees a man running his hands through his blonde hair, walking back and forth in despair. Then, his eyes move to find you.

Standing tall in the tightest, shortest, black dress he's ever seen. So, the little black dress truly does exist. Glowy skin shining through from the lights decorating the outside of the restaurant. Your legs appear miles long, feet paired with your nicest set of heels, Joli Queen Glitter. Red fucking bottoms. Christian Louboutin at its finest. Rich jewelry sits on your wrists, fingers, and neck.

Even with all that in the way, all he notices is just how drop-dead gorgeous you are. Suddenly, his fingers get clammy. What the hell? His jaw was clenched. Literally, why? His pants were growing tight because oh God he was already har- Alright, now that’s just crazy, Charles. Get it together.

“Yes. Whether you believe me or not, I’m sorry. Maybe you just shouldn’t have set high expectations,” you spoke, looking down.

“Are you being fucking serious right now? You’re smiling? You think this is funny! Oh God, what the fuck is wrong with you, you crazyyyy bitch!” The man continues, sharply pointing his finger at you accusingly. He genuinely looks like he’s about to start crying for his mommy.

“Okay mate, I think that’s enough. Why don’t I call you a cab?” Charles speaks up from where he’s standing. You and the mysterious guy turn to look at him.

You shoot a smile as the man's eye starts twitching.

“Oh great! Great, great, great,” the man chants. “What an idiotic thing to believe that you hadn't gotten rid of me already! How could I not see it coming?” He drops to his knees and starts rocking back and forth. “On my dead hamster's birthday!” Levi, Charles later finds out, cries out to the sky. “Couldn’t this have happened any other day?” Charles cringes. “Call me that shitty ass cab, dude.”

So, you stand close by as Charles helps plop Levi inside with the help of the cab driver. They buckle him up and off they go.

Not before Levi pokes his out the window. “I swear I’m not being bitter when I tell you to fucking save yourself!”

Both of you are left there standing quietly. You pout your red lips as you pull out your phone to call a cab for yourself.

“Need a lift?”

Glancing around silently, you sneak a look at Charles. Handsome, you ponder, just a tiny bit. Outrageous lie. You quickly scold yourself for being so untruthful. This man was the most beautiful kind you’ve seen in your entire life.

“Take it that was your boyfriend back there?” He taps his fingers against the wheel.

“Mmm. Hardly. No, he isn’t - wasn’t - my boyfriend by any means. Some guys just instantly assume stuff over any girl that pays them any ounce of attention.” You lazily trace shapes onto your thigh. You tug your dress down a bit, licking your lips. “Thanks for helping me out back there. It was really sweet.”

He notices the way you never look up from your lap as you’re speaking. It’s kind of endearing, just how soft you can be. “Don’t mention it…it was…no problem.”

He walks you from his car to your house. It's small, pastel yellow with a mailbox that reads; No more love letters. Seriously. “Cute,” he comments. You blush.

“Oh, that. Sorry, I live with my two best friends and they wrote that as a joke,” you ramble as you click your heel shyly. “They said it would help out with my, and I quote, ‘secret admirers.’” You let out a tired laugh as you finally build up the courage to look at the man standing right in front of you.

“To be honest, that makes sense.” He tilts his head a bit, analyzing your eyes. “Beautiful girls should receive beautiful letters.”

Tongue tied, you stare back with a pleased smile.

“This is so unlike me, but would you like to go out some time?”

Easiest question ever asked.

A few nights later, he finally decides it would be a good day to take you out to dinner. Testing went well and the car was finally on the right track. He took this as a good omen.

“How long have you lived in Italy now?” you quiz, as you bring your Shirley Temple closer to your lips.

“Oh, um, for quite a while now. I mean it’s really only for work. I go home any chance I get.”

“Sweet. Where are you from?”

“Monaco.”

Your eyes grow wide with excitement. “Really! Monaco is so beautiful!” Your childlike squeal makes him smile brightly.

“Have you ever been?” You sadly shake your head, hair bouncing back and forth. Soft floral fills the air.

“Nope, but I wish to one day. I just know I’ll love it so much…” You trail off. “It’s just that growing up my favorite movie was Monte Carlo. Would beg my mom to play it any chance I could.” Maroon coats your cheekbones. He furrows his dark brows in confusion.

“Monte Carlo? You know, starring Selena Gomez?” His soft features pinch together. “...Leighton Meester? Katie Cassidy?” You desperatelyspit your words, trying to assist. He continues shaking his head. Never heard of it.

Your mood grows sulky as you pout. Leaning back, you finally take a sip of your drink. Oh, well now I really want something stronger than this.

“I would love to watch it some time though!” Charles tries as his voice cracks. He winces.

“Sure!” Though, you're not looking at him anymore. Your eyes are trained behind him. He’s about to turn around and ask if you’re fine, when you finally speak up. “I think I’ll go to the bar for another drink. Be right back!” He huffs.

You weren’t back for almost too long. Finally, deciding to go look for you, he stands and takes long strides all around the dark restaurant. When he finds you he sees you’re not alone.

A man in an all black suit seems to be your new company. You giggle as he appears to slide some type of business card to you. Just as you're about to grab it Charles strolls over to you both.

“Is your drink finally ready?” he asks as he wraps a protective arm around your waist. You flinch. You hadn’t even seen him walk over.

“Charles!” you shriek, as you crumble the piece of paper into the palm of your hard, hurriedly. You pray that he hadn’t noticed, but he had. Something inside of him told him not to ask. “I was actually on my way back. Did you need anything? A drink?” you ask, furrowing your brows attentively.

“No, thank you, amour,” Charles warmly replies, looking into your glossy eyes. You truly were the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“My apologies for getting in the way.” The man extends his hand out to Charles. “Aiden Quinn, pleasure to meet you.”

Charles may be upset that Aiden ruined his date, but he wasn’t keen on being rude, so begrudgingly, he shook his hand. “Charles Leclerc.” See, normally Charles isn’t the type to throw his name out like that expectantly, but he felt as if he had a point to make. He did, though. I was here first.

The man grins ear to ear, nodding. “Yes, that’s where I know you from. I knew you looked familiar. Formula 1 driver, right? Ferrari?” He points with a knowing smile.

“Scuderia’s number one driver, yes.” His grip around your waist stays secure. Meanwhile, your eyes are open to their fullest. Surprisingly, you had no idea.

“Certainly. I’m one of the team's ambassadors, actually,” Aiden challenges. Charles clenches his jaw. “When you have million dollar businesses all around the world, you try to find a place to help. Ferrari really needs it at the moment.” You’re equally as shocked with Aiden as you are with Charles.

“Well then, I’ll make sure to dedicate my next podium to you I suppose." You shift uncomfortably. This reminds him you’re there. With him. Ha! Take that, Quinn! “Anyhow, I would love to chit chat with fellow fans, but I must say we have to get going.” He holds your hand firmly as he leads you out.

“Goodbye, Aiden!” you beam as you depart ways.

“Formula 1 driver now, is it?” you curiously ask as you look over where he has one hand over the steering wheel and running the other calmly through his hair.

“Thought you knew.”

“I had no clue! Zip!” you shriek as fling your arms through the air. He laughs as he pulls into an abandoned parking lot.

“In the mood for something sweet?”

“Grazie mille,” the Monegasque says as he's handed cones of freshly made gelato. Smiling, he makes his way back to you. Hands you per requested raspberry, as he keeps his lemon one.

“Molto gentile.” You inspect and nod your head in approval. Just hearing your tongue curl in Italian has him swooning. You take a lick and release a soft moan. “So sweet. Best I’ve ever had,” you declare as you continue enjoying your treat innocently.

Charles gulps, trying to cool down. “I told you it was the best.” He shoots a wink over to Luca, the owner, for keeping the shop open for a few more minutes.

“You scared me a bit back there.”

“Pfft. With that Aiden guy…I’m sorry about that–”

“God no. Honestly, I completely forgot about that,” you mutter. “I meant with that whole, ‘In the mood for something sweet?’. Thought you were like the rest.”

The 25 year old keeps quiet for a minute. He gathers his thoughts before settling with, “I promise I’m not.”

“Keeping my fingers crossed you aren’t.” You look around with twinkling eyes. “You know, a date I once had asked me-”

You want a slice?

No.

“It shocked me how straight forward he was being. It wasn’t even our second date! I barely even knew the guy.” You frown at the memory. “Then he blamed it on the tiramisu.”

I meant the tiramisu, guys!

God no.

“Never saw him again,” you finish as you finally focus back on him. A pale Charles is all you find.

“Woah, are you okay?”

“Yes! I’m so good! You look lovely! Did I mention it already cause if I didn’t then call me the worst date ever!” He begins nervously laughing. His gelato dripping all over his arm.

“I think you did.” You smile as you hand him a few napkins. He returns the gesture, thanking you. “And don’t worry about it, leave that spot for Lando. Now he might take the crown.”

Charles let out a groan.

Charles went back and forth deciding whether he should reach out to you. He liked you. A lot. Nonetheless, he was hesitating because he just couldn’t do something like that to Lando. The Brit was as bummed out as one could get. So, it's settled. Bye bye baby.

“Of course. Tonight at 8,” your voice confirms on the other side of the line. Charles celebrates with a quick dance.

“See you then.”

He decides today that he wants to switch things up. Do something that would make him stand out from anyone that came before him.

“Monaco?” Leaning on the hood of Charles' car, you feel you have to be dreaming. He nods his head lively.

“I could show you around, y’know be your personal tour guide.”

“You should have warned me! I don’t have anything ready!” you yelp as you hold your hands over your heart, frantically. He would be more worried if it weren’t for you smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

“We still have time. Come on, I’ll help you pack.”

When you make it to Monaco you’re greeted by a young guy wearing glasses, driving a Ferrari Pista. Charles and him fit in a quick embrace before they turn their attention back to you.

“Ah yes, this is Joris. He’s one of my closest friends,” Charles states as you warmly reach for a handshake.

Reciprocating, Joris says, “Very nice to meet you.” You smile, returning the greeting. “Must say, you are just as beautiful as Cha had mentioned, if not more.” You blush as Charles clears his throat awkwardly.

“D'accord, mec. Pas besoin de le dire au monde entier,” Charles mutters. “Thank you for picking us up.” Joris nods, carrying your luggages. You share a quick goodbye before he finally makes his way to another car. “That’s also one of my very good friends, Marta.” You smile and wave as they drive off.

Monaco definitely met your expectations. Everything just captivated your attention so much that you wouldn’t be surprised if you started to drool.

“Holy shit. Your home is absolutely stunning!” you gasp. He wheels your bags in as he exhales.

“Merci. Make yourself at home.”

Thankfully, the flight was quick so you both have plenty of energy to go out for a late night snack. He takes you to his; Favorite place in the world! You’ll see.

A little stand sits in the corner of the street.

“Lou makes one of the best crepes. Trust me, I’ve been a loyal customer since my school days.”

A little old lady is attending to customers, but stops as soon as she spots Charles. “Charlie! Chérie, je ne savais pas que tu étais de retour!” She makes her way around to hug him.

“Des projets de dernière minute, mais j'ai juste envie de manger une de tes incroyables crêpes,” he replies, as they pull away.

“And who is this pretty girl?” she questions as she looks at you, standing there patiently.

“Oop, hello. I’m a friend of Charles.” Lou smiles teasingly.

“Charlie, tu es là pour me dire que tu vas te marier?” Lou suddenly looks over the moon.

“Non!” he quickly shouts, so suddenly, you and Lou both jump a bit. Tight lipped, he apologizes.

“Like she said, we’re just friends."

The next morning after breakfast he recommends you bring something you can swim with. Skipping your way to his room, which he is kindly sacrificing for you, you roam through your luggage until you find a baby blue bikini.

“You don’t get sea sick by any means, right?” He looks over at you with scrunched brows underneath a pair of glossy black Ray Bans. You shake your head.

“Great.”

You make your way to a tiny boat before he helps you settle in. You grab his hand softly as you step into it. A single touch of electricity seems to link your fingertips. It catches you both so off guard that he lets go of you so swiftly, you don’t even notice as you plunge into the water.

You let out a quick yelp before you go underwater and his hands fly to his head in embarrassment. You resurface with wet hair covering your face.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” he apologizes before extending his arm out for you to grab. Pushing your hair out of your face, you giggle.

“It’s okay, I got it.”

Once you independently get on the boat, he unties the rope off the deck and takes a seat himself to drive you both to the unknown destination.

“Pretty please, can I know now where we’re going?” you squeal with puppy eyes.

Lord help me, he thinks before replying. “We’re going to a little island I love. Îles de Lérins.” You look ahead, nodding patiently. “It’s beautiful, you’ll see.”

When you arrive it’s easy to understand that there doesn’t seem to be that many people. You basically have the place to yourselves.

He helps you off, not dropping you this time. There’s a small trail you both begin to take. It’s something peaceful, the moment you’re in. You almost wish to fit it into a snow globe.

“My parents would always bring my brothers and I here all the time during summer when we were younger,” Charles confesses.

“You have brothers?”

He turns to look at you, then continues ahead. “Yes. Two.” He kicks a rock out of his way, but something you didn’t know was just how clumsy this man child could be.

“Ouch!” you groan in pain as your hand flies up to your nose.

“Jesus! What’s wrong with me today? Are you okay? I’m so sorry!” He runs to you all panicky now.

You take it back. Break the goddamn snow globe.

You try tilting your head back to ease the blood pouring out your nose before he gently grips your face to gain your attention. You scrunch your eyes, sun suddenly blinding you. Quickly, he takes off his glasses and places them over your eyes. As you open them you notice he’s shirtless. He places his shirt on your nose to clean you up. You flinch a bit.

Instantly, you’re thankful for the sunglasses because wondering eyes were all you could give him. His lean muscles were just begging to be praised.

You shake your head before taking the Puma shirt from him. “Thanks,” you mutter as you focus on a nearby tree. “Starting to think you might hate me or something.”

“Of course not... I could never hate you!” His voice cracks in nervousness. You snicker.

After a bit more wiping, you are as good as new. You both decide to take a dip while the water feels good. You strip from your Levi shorts and t-shirt. Dipping a toe to test the temperature, you shoot him two thumbs up.

The ocean feels so fresh and silky against your skin. You can’t seem to remember the last time you’ve enjoyed someone’s company like this, even if they almost ruled you to the ends of Earth. Two fingers press against your neck. You spring one eye open and you see Charles biting down on his thumb. He relaxes.

“Sorry, I thought you crossed the line to the afterlife.”

You tread water to stretch your legs out. “I’m fine.”

He takes this time to note things he hadn’t paid attention to before. Like how your lashes pin against your skin since they’re wet. Or how a tiny bit of freckles are sprinkled on your nose. He curses himself for not having seen it any sooner. Pretty was an understatement. You were extraordinary.

A few hours later you guys are back at his house sharing a pizza. Pepperoni, you both loved a classic.

“There’s no bruise,” he points out almost proudly. You shoot a playful scowl. He walks over to the T.V. and clicks the remote. “Monte Carlo?”

He loved it, the way you said he would. He especially enjoyed watching how much you loved it.

“This movie was too ahead of its time,” you confirm as you dig your feet under the blanket you had curled into.

“Well at least Grace and Theo got their happily ever after,” he pronounces. You shoot an impressed look. “What? I was listening.” You crawl up next to him and pat his cheek. His dimples pop out from how hard he’s smiling.

He can’t help it the moment he reaches to cradle your face to press your lips together. He can’t help but let a moan slip out when you finally kiss him back.

Finally, he picks you up to adjust you on his lap, which you comfortably settle into. You feel him underneath you so clearly you can’t help but move your hips. He feels so good.

The heated moment continues as he wraps his hands around the curve of your ass. You pull away as your lips move down to his neck. He almost gasps the moment you lick down his throat. It doesn’t help that you’ve been keeping your hips in motion.

He almost passes out the moment your lips move to his ear and ask, no, beg; Let me taste you, please. How could he ever deny such offer?

Making your way down to your knees, he adjusts himself on the couch. He thinks to himself that if he were standing he would’ve made a fool out of himself because just the sight of you in front of him has him choking on his own breath. You just look so pretty.

You tug his shorts down, along with his boxers, and bite down on your lip as you grab his cock, softly. He has to stop himself from jerking into your hand. Precum sprouting from his tip. You can’t wait as you take kitten licks. Fuck, he whimpers. The sound of his voice makes you squeeze your thighs together.

Wrapping your lips around him, your hands reach to balance yourself against his thighs. You moan at the feeling of having him inside your mouth, drooling all over his lap.

This itself, is too much for Charles and thinks he’ll barely even be able to survive as his head turns against the couch' pillow with closed lids. You start bobbing your head and one hand flings down to jerk off what you can’t reach. He groans at the feeling.

You start off slow but suddenly start picking up your pace. He opens his eyes, dazed, to catch a glimpse of you on your knees and this sight is something he won’t be able to forget even if he tried. With glassy eyes, you look up at him. You make a show of releasing your lips from his cock as you lap your tongue along it. Before going back at it, you twirl your tongue a couple of times around his tip before giving it a quick suck, then deep throat him.

He grits his teeth as if to help deal with any of this but when you start toying with yourself he lets out the loudest whine he’s ever produced. You look up smiling, grazing your teeth lightly along him and he hisses at the feeling. Proudly, you fit him back into your mouth.

“God, your mouth feels so fucking good,” he manages to get out before you solely start jerking him off.

“What about my hands?” you seductively tease. The sounds coming from both your hands and his cock should be considered a sin itself. He groans as he looks back to make eye contact with you.

“Your hands too, baby.”

He knows he’s close the moment you twist your wrist perfectly. So so good. You know he’s close when he begins to twitch underneath your fingertips.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” he chants as you continue your dirty movements. He makes sure to look at you, focused, eyes drawn to his cock.

“Cum for me, Charles,” you coo as he finally bucks his hips into your hands and hot cum shoots all over your face. You wickedly smile as your lips reach his cock to continue swallowing the rest that is being released. He grabs you face to pull you off him and hauls you once again onto his lap. He’s about to kiss you before you pull away and point at the mess on your face.

You wipe two fingers along your face and bring them to your mouth to clean them off. A pop is released when you let go. He shudders.

This is the moment, Charles realizes, he’s so screwed.

When you make it back to Italy you realize that all you’ll have are a few fleeting moments together. With Charles going back to racing and you continuing your online classes, you’re both bound to be booked.

Though, Charles just isn’t ready to let you go. And a fucked up man will make fucked up choices when due.

So, he strings you along with him to the Miami GP. He realizes there’s a strong chance you might bump shoulders with Lando, but to be completely honest, he was past caring. He was completely smitten with you.

You wear your white summer dress as you are sprawled on his hotel bed. You’re a mess.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whimper as Charles fingers slip in and out of you. He’s feverishly kissing down the side of your thighs, bites left in between. You groan in slight pain as you tug on his soft hair. This man has brought out the moon and stars, for you.

“C’mon baby, look at me,” he whispers as he paints you with hickeys in between your legs. Somewhere no one else will ever be able to catch a glimpse of. You nod your head as you look down to find him gripping your dress over your thighs, eating you out like a starved man. You shut your eyes as you release a few soft pants, the heels of your feet press deeper against his Ferrari polo.

“Open you’re eyes.”

You shake your head. You wish you could look at him, you really wanted to, but it’s just too much take in. You wanted to make this last.

But Charles was greedy. He wanted to taste you. He stops everything all at once. You let out a cry. Fuck him.

You bring your arms around his neck, loosely, as he kisses your shoulder. “Why’d you stop?”

“You weren’t looking at me.”

With all your strength you open your glittered eyelids.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos as he picks you up and sits you at the edge of the bed. You look down at him confused as he gets on his knees in front of you.

“If you can’t look at me, then you’re going to have to look at yourself,” he directs as he begins to push your dress back up your waist. You lean against your elbows as you realize what other than Charles is in front of you.

A shiny glass mirror.

With a slightly open mouth you’re about to protest before Charles picks up right where he left off. He spits on your clit before rubbing it. You bite down on your bottom lip so hard, you draw blood.

“Don’t tell me I have to get you to moan now?” Charles stares at you with furrowed brows. You shake your head no before he kisses your knee. “Good.”

He makes sure you look straight at your reflection before he curls his fingers inside of you. You mewl at the touch. Your legs beg to bring him closer.

He lets out a light chuckle before repeating his motion. With sleepy eyes, you stare at the way your legs rest against his shoulders. You had painted your nails bloody mary a few nights before, in support of him and his team. Your face all fucked up singly by Charles’ long fingers and delicate touch, red lipstick all over your mouth from how heavy your make out with Charles had been.

To him, you looked like an angel.

You squeal as he presses his nose against your pussy. You grind against his face. He pulls away and you whine, looking at him desperately.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he reassures you as he moves up to kiss your cheek and then your pouty lips.

“Cha, please,” you beg hopelessly. He grins as he pushes your hair out of your face and runs his thumb across your lips trying to clean you up a bit.

You take a chance and wrap your lips around his finger, and you begin to suck. Expertly, you swirl your tongue. Eyes look back at him, almost challenging. He lets out a strained groan.

With all the willpower he has left, he removes his finger from your mouth. Nicely wet, he presses it back where you needed him the most.

“Thank you, baby, you shouldn’t have.” You cry out at the sudden size of his thumb now being inside of you. He switches out his thumb for his middle and ring finger. You throw your head back. All the back and forth almost has you blacking out a few times. Charles gives you a quick peck, fingers building speed, as he pulls your dress down a bit to release your plump tits.

Now he’s at a loss for words. Quickly, he regains his composure and starts sucking on your left nipple, legs squeezing around his waist as a reflex. One hand flies to the back of his head as one makes its way to cup his cheek adoringly.

He moans against you, sucking hard before moving his attention to your right nipple. The way you’re wailing against him has him painfully hard against his jeans.

“Yes, God yes right there, Charlie,” you let out as you grind against his hand. He detaches his lips from your chest as he smiles up at you.

“I’m right here, baby. Cum for me, yeah?” You let out the most pornographic moan as you finish around his hand. Tears make their way down your cheeks. Cleans his fingers, he shuts his eyes satisfied, before he towers over your body, pressing kisses all over.

You giggle. “That tickles." The 25 year old’s heart doubles in size at the sound of your fucked out voice.

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up before the race?”

The race results weren't the best Charles has had, that’s for sure. Head hung, he makes his way to his motorhome. There he finds you on the tiny little bed, curled up, watching the rest of the ongoing interviews. As soon as you notice him you jump up to your feet and walk to him.

It's almost as if you knew how down he was feeling when you wrap your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. He instantly feels better as his arms swaddle over your shoulders, chin atop your pretty hair.

“You did good,” you mumble. You press a faint kiss on his suit before looking up.

“I fucked up. I got P7.”

You frown at him before holding his face between your soft palms. “P7 is good, what do you mean?” He just shakes his head. “You’ve never heard of seven being a lucky number?”

He scoffs, but not at you, never you. More at himself. “Lucky?”

You pull away and sit back on his bed. “Oh yeah, seven bring all the luck in the world!” you squeal, as you plop on the bed. He laughs lightly as he lies beside you.

“Guess I’ll just take your word for it.” He hums with his eyes closed.

You turn on your side as you try to memorize his face. Like the small mole that sits on the left side of his face that makes him even more handsome, if anyone asks for your opinion. You scold yourself for not having noticed it before. As if to fix things, you name it one of your favorite things about him.

“You should. Things will get better, you’ll see.”

For once, he really believes it.

You both are walking out of the Ferrari home when you're suddenly stopped by someone calling Charles’ name.

“Hey, Charles! Great race man!” A familiar voice rings through the air before you both have a chance to turn around. Both you and Charles, unknowingly of one another, want to make a run for it.

“Thanks, Lando,” Charles replies as he prays he might not notice you. But a girl as beautiful as you can’t go forgotten.

“Holy shit it’s you!” Lando wails as he instantly recognizes you from dinner a few months ago. You cringe. What the chances?

“Hi,” you squeak as you hide behind Charles a bit. You had no idea Lando was a Formula 1 driver too. You ought to do your research better next time.

“Mate! This is the chick I was telling you about over dinner last time!” Lando says, eyes almost popping out of his face from the shock he’s in.

“You don’t sayyyy.” Charles tries to hide it, though inside he’s freaking out as if he’s broken every FIA rule in the book.

“Hey, I want to say sorry for that night, I should have been more clear,” Lando begins to spill his apologies, as all you can do is silently stand there, accepting them all.

“Of course. Long forgotten,” you comfort the Brit. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy.

“Charles, I’ll wait for you outside, alright?” you utter as he nods. Once you walk out, he turns to Lando frantically.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was the same girl you were upset about!” he tells him. Liar. “You must be mad at me and I get it-”

“Nope.”

Charles stares back, caught off guard by Lando’s response.

“You’re not?”

Lando rolls his eyes. “I’m not. I just hope you realize what she’s capable of.” He leans in closer to Charles’ ear and Charles leans in too, expectantly. “I’ve heard stories, man…”

Charles immediately pulls away. “Okay, we’re done here. Bye mate!”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

But Charles knew you better. He saw the way you looked at him. The way you felt. You were different. Fuck your following reputation.

“Ready?”

When you got back from Miami, something had shifted. He couldn’t quite name the moment it had, but he was sure of it. He didn’t care though. He would put up with just about anything as long as that meant having you around.

“And then he told me to test the car again, said it was fixed. Fixed my ass!” Charles tells you over FaceTime. You were sitting in your bedroom, painting nonsense on a canvas. You wore some old overalls with loose space buns. Strands of hair would hit the paint from how messy it was.

“No way,” you say, not looking up. Charles smiles fondly.

“You look lovely by the way.” Though, you don’t seem to catch his affirmation for you. Your eyes are focused on something out of frame, in front of you. A quick smirk appears on your face but slips so fast that he almost begins to think he’s imagined it.

“Thank you, Charles,” you reply with a much bigger smile now. “Hey, how about I meet you at your house at 9? I’ll cook you a nice meal, promise.”

Like always, he knows he shouldn’t ask and also knows he can’t say no to you.

“I’ll be waiting.”

That night when you step into his house he notices things he wishes weren’t there. Like how your hair was a tad bit messy or how there were light bruises on your neck. He knows those didn’t come from him. He’d always been mindful to mark you in places no one else could admire, just him. Something bugs him knowing someone has seen them already.

“I’m so sorry I’m late." You rush in with bags from the nearby market, the one just around the corner from his flat.

“No worries. So, what will we be cooking, my little chef?”

That night you seem so infatuated by him, he truly thinks this all was his imagination. Maybe the wind blew your hair on your way here; he should have offered to pick you up. Maybe he forgot he had also marked your neck; he’ll make sure to be more careful next time.

He wraps his arms around your waist as you cut pieces of basil. Giggling, you turn around to peck his lips. Craving more from you, he lifts you up onto the kitchen island. He stands in between your legs as you stare up at him, ever a vixen.

As you lock lips, he picks you up, you yelp all giddy. He makes his way over to his bedroom, your lips lingering on his neck, he almost drops you from how good it feels.

“Careful, don’t need another wack in the face,” you mumble from his neck, light spirited. He rolls his eyes at your comment, but yeah, he should probably focus.

Finally reaching his room, he kicks the door open so hard, it flies and instantly makes a hole through the wall. You gasp as he groans.

“Fuck it, it’s fine,” he murmurs as he takes you to his bed where he drops you. You giggle as your hair covers your face, he makes his way to hover over you and brush it away.

“You know I would do anything for you?” he asks, tenderness lacing his voice.

You stare back at him with bright and eager eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

He smiles as he leans down to kiss you and you instantly melt into the mattress beneath you. He kisses you so fast, so hot, that it has you feeling lightheaded. I’ve been kissed before but never, ever, like this, you think as he slips his tongue as a quick trick. You moan with pleasure. He smiles into the kiss.

He picks his head up to get a good look at the angel the universe had ever so nicely sent his way. He caresses you gingerly. “Are you sure, chérie?”

You nod up and down eagerly, ready for more he’s willing to give. You are so desperate you would gladly take anything as long as it's from him. A flash of sadness strikes your face before it’s replaced with a warm smile.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he comforts you as he begins to take a step back. You quickly hold onto his veiny arm.

“I want to,” you confirm. You bring him back to you as you kiss him for the millionth time that night. Even that would never be enough.

His hands make their way to slip your dress off. Once you're left in your matching lingerie, you push him on his back and straddle him.

“Holy shit,” he nervously laughs as you started to unbutton his linen shirt. He pulls his arm out as you sloppily brush your lips down his smooth chest, fingers tracing his firm abs. Then, as you’re about to pull his pants down, he grabs your hands firmly. You glance at him, confusion written all over your face.

“Ladies first,” he teases. You roll your eyes, but still slip out a quick, okay, before settling under him once again. He kisses down your neck gently as you hum out, finding peace with his lips hovering your body. Every new kiss he places on your soft skin makes you feel thousands of butterflies. You’d never experienced something like this before, you’ve never felt so flawless.

Clumsy fingers roam your back as he unclips your bra then strips you from your panties. Seeing you completely bare has his dumbstruck. This is something he could easily get used to.

His hands make their way to squeeze your tits, your head digs deeper into the mattress as you release a soft whimpers. Charles grows harder by the second, already getting rid of the rest of his clothes as quickly as he can.

He tugs you closer to him by your legs. A laugh rolls past your lips. Resting both arms by either side of your head, he pushes into you. Synchronously, you both let out a moan. You dig your nails into his shoulder as he grips onto the sheets.

You feel so tight around him that it takes all of him not to lose control. You throw your arm over your face, face scrunched.

Putting his feelings aside, Charles leans down and plants a kiss on your arm. “C’mon baby, not again. Look at me.”

“I can’t…,” you cry out weakly, “...too big.”

“You just have to adjust,” he reassures you as he begins to move in and out of you. Your arms fly up to his neck and you grab on tight, as if he’s keeping you ashore. You moan loudly.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers as he thrusts deep inside of you. Your velvety walls feel like home to him and he never wants to leave.

You squirm when his cock hits your sweet spot. You yell into the nothingness and your grip on his hair tightens so much, he groans at the sensation. His hips pick up speed, and suddenly, he’s kissing you again. You whine into his lips, needy for more. Harder.

As if he could read your mind, that's exactly what he does. Your lips form a silent O as you stare at him with eyebrows drawn together. He just feel so fucking good.

“Fuck baby,” he groans, voice deep. You shiver at the sound. “God, you feel so good, you’re doing so good,” he praises you as he now looks into your eyes. You wail in response, too fucked up to form any kind of sentence.

“I love you so much,” he announces so suddenly, you almost push him away. He keeps moving rapidly as he makes out with you eagerly.

As you kiss him back you realize something scary; you love Charles Leclerc. You think you’ve loved him for a while now, but having never been in love, you didn’t seem to notice the feeling. But you do now.

“I love you, too,” you murmur against his lips. When he pulls away you notice you’ve never seen him smile so big. You like being the reason behind it.

He immediately pounds into you harder, not holding back anymore and you’re both a mess. You moan so loud, you’re almost embarrassed but Charles seems to love it.

“If you love me,” he pants, “then tell me his name.”

He continues normally, but you swear you feel your heart stop. There’s no way.

“What are you talking about?” you manage to spit out, but the way he’s handling your body has you seeing stars.

“Please,” a desperate look flashes across his face, “just tell me his name.” His watch covered hand makes its way to your clit and he pushes his finger against it. God, his fingers are so-

“There’s no one.” Liar. “There’s just you.”

With that, you flip him over so now you’re on top of him. Hastily, you start to ride him, making sure to move your hips just the way he likes it. His head falls back against the bed frame as his fingers dig into your hips. You bite your swollen lips in slight pain, but also, just by looking at his current state.

Cheeks slightly pink with sweaty hair covering his face. Long disheveled hair that you pressed him not to trim quite yet. What a sight for sore eyes.

“Please,” he chokes out, “just tell me his name and I swear I’ll never bring it up again.” He opens his eyes to look up at you. His voice hitches when he sees you hopping on his dick, tits bouncing up and down. You throw your head back and circle your hips much harder.

“Fuck.” Charles gasps as he reaches up to attach his lips to your chest. He licks before softly biting down against your bud. You exhale sharply. He then lays back and holds onto your hips harder before helping you move on top of him. Wrapped around him, the motion between both of you picks up so fast you start shaking your head no.

“Yes, amour, say it. Please just tell me before I lose my fucking mind,” he grunts as he stares down at your juices as they make the filthiest sound against his own.

“I swear Charles, I promise, that I have never loved anyone the way I do you,” you confess as you sink your nails against his chest, red marks instantly mapping themselves down.

“Beautiful fucking liar.” Charles smirks as he moves his fingers against your clit rapidly. With that, your walls clench around him as you cum so hard around him he can’t help but follow. You moan loudly as you fall against his chest as he groans lowly.

Trying to even your breathing, you grab onto his hand. Instantly, he brings it up against his lips. Just the touch of his makes you want to ride him until you can’t no more.

You meant what you said that night. Though you both should have known better. Being naive can’t always last forever.

“Then she left a note saying it’s best we just remain friends,” Charles reveals a few nights later over dinner. Everyone shares glances of empathy to the distraught Monegasque. Even Lando.

“It’s alright man, you’ll be over her before you know it,” Lando states as he shares a knowing smile. Charles bites down on his tongue knowing all this pent of anger wasn’t towards Lando. Not even for you.

He would like to say that he learned his lesson and that he should have listened to everyone, all the warning signs that glowed above his head. But he knows damn well he would do it all over again if given the chance. He would say, do anything, to change your mind. To make you stay, but people like you never settled.

Moping, Charles changes the topic as he begins asking how everyone’s break was. He didn’t really care, but he tried to pretend.

Out of breath, Oscar rushes over to the table. “Sorry I’m late,” he says as he sits down in between Lando and Charles.

“No worries, mate, Charles was just filling us in on his expired love life,” Daniel fills in, nonchalantly. Charles immediately shoots a dry frown. Daniel shares an apologetic shrug.

“Oh. That sucks man,” the young Australian replies as he gulps down some water. “Speaking of love lives, you guys won’t believe it! I just met the prettiest girl of my entire life just now outside of the restaurant!”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

Winter's King 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: this one came out of no where.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s uncharacteristically grim on the plains of Debray. Rains pelt the tall green grasses, flattening them in a slanted downpour that dims the horizon. Clouds blot out the daylight and lend to atmosphere of unease in the warring lands.

Behind the castle walls, one can forget about the bloodshed staining the counties red, though it is all the dukes and his audience can speak of. The lords that bluster through those gates, sometimes at the toll of morning, some in the black swathes of night. You can’t count them all, you can name even fewer, but they come anon and leave just as brusquely.

A peel of thunder shakes the land and a dark line limns the curve of the horizon. What appears first as a storm cloud advances quickly through the fields, appearing more clearly to the naked eye, distant nonetheless. Men. Another party fast on the approach.

The alarm goes up at a man’s holler. Ethred, man at the gate hollers to the other men in mail. Niam peers out from the vantage of the tower and calls back down. A hush falls and bodies scurry all around, metal clinking and boots crunching. There’s something amiss. Something you can’t quite place.

You turn away from the window, the steam rising from the basin in your hand swirling around your head. You carry on down the corridor, wool skirts around cautious steps as you balance the swaying water in the vessel. You approach the lady’s door and give it a rap with your knee. Merinda, another handmaid, opens it from within.

You enter without a word and place the basin on the vanity table. The duke’s daughter preens herself with a painted fan, fluttering her lashes at her reflection as her curls spill down her long back. She tilts her head this way and that. She snaps the fan shut and puts it down, touching her soft brown cheeks with a devilish grin.

“Do you know what father mentioned last eve?” Jazlene asks with a vain flutter of her lashes.

“What did he mention?” Her mother, Lady Rezlyn prompts lazily as she plucks another cherry from a dish heaped in fruit.

“A husband,” the daughter grins coyly at herself, “it is well due, isn’t it, mother? Who do you think it might be? Lord Gai, perhaps? He is young still.”

“Perhaps the Earl of Mesafin,” her mother taunts back to a disgusted gasp.

“Do not,” Jazlene pouts, “I could never... I am much too pretty for that haggard beast.”

“Well, then, who might you have, precious?” Rezlyn goads.

There is a clamour in the hall that keeps the younger of the woman from answering. She rolls her eyes and darkly glare at the door. You peer back behind your shoulder as a wail goes up carrying her father’s name; ‘Lord Dustan!’

“What is all that?” Jazlene whines, “as if it isn’t enough with the rain and the winds. It is summer!”

“It’s always summer in Debray, darling,” Rezlyn scoffs, “otherwise I’d have never married your father. Pray you don’t hook yourself a winter lord.”

You peek over your shoulder as you stand near the door, in your vigil, awaiting your next order. You face the ladies again as the elder continues to feast and the younger fusses over her thick brows. You scrunch your lips back and forth, a habit that often has your jaw aching.

Jazlene turns to narrow her eyes at you, “what is it then? What has you making faces?”

You bow your head, appeasing her ego, “my lady, there were men coming. A party approaching from the north.”

“There are always men,” she shakes her head, “who was it then? Anyone I should wear silk for?”

Her mother laughs, “I warn you, daughter, that trite tongue will not endear any husband.”

“I do not know, lady,” you answer.

“Ugh, useless, must I work as my own handmaid?” Jazlene tisks, “come, pin my hair. Merinda find me a gown. Mother... wipe the dribble from your chin.”

“Eh, watch yourself,” Lady Rezlyn rises and wipes her lips with her sleeve. She wears muslin in a dark shade of burgundy, embroidered with little copper finches. “Or hope you marry above me before you lash that tongue at me.”

Jazlene merely trills with laughter. You take the pins and work at twisting her fine curls into place. Merinda brings to her a dress of teal satin and is promptly shooed away, “something pink. It brings out my bosom.”

You ignore her bawdy jest as her mother harrumphs. You work in quiet tandem with the other handmaid. You add a touch of paint to the lady’s cheeks and kohl around her eyes. You tint her lips with pigment and she pushes out her lips at the mirror. You help Merinda dress her, pulling the noble daughter’s corset tight enough to leave her lightheaded.

The pair of ladies, elder and younger, leave the chamber with you at their skirt tails. They sweep through the corridors with chins up. They are queens in their own minds. Their fine dresses and sparkling gems are untouched by the disparity of war. The lives lost are squares on a game board, tawdry talk for men in their studies.

“Lord Dustan,” Lady Rezlyn mimics the earlier call for the lord of the castle, “my husband. Dear, dear husband!”

The women go to the banister and look down upon the great hall as the flurry continues below. You and Merinda loom behind, not daring to stand at a level with the pompous nobles. You have never volunteered yourself for their impetuous lashings.

“Woman!” Dustan booms back up, “do not trouble me now.”

“Oh, has another lord come? Perhaps a suitor for our lovely daughter--”

“Cease!” The duke demands hotly, “now is not the time for womanly games.”

“Tell me it true, husband, she will be an old maid before you find a suiting son-in-law--”

“Go away to your chambers. Now. The men who come are not to be trifled with and you lot do trifle overly much!”

“Bah! Oh do not be so uncouth!” Rezlyn decries.

“Father, please, is it a husband?”

“Go before I send my guards up to put you away like thieves in a dungeon. Hear me when I warn you that this does not concern you. Not as yet,” Dustan snarls, “you would spoil this war with your puny concerns.”

“Ugh,” his wife puts her hand to her forehead, “he does tax me. All I ask of him is to take care of us, daughter. As any husband should.”

“I should have your lips sewn shut!” Dustan rebukes hotly, “be gone before I find a tailor.”

The women share an aghast look. The turn back to flutter away in their skirts. You and Merinda follow them to the drawing room, closing them in as they fall onto the velvet cushions. Jazlene reclines dramatically on the chaise as her mouth mopes on a sofa.

“Shall I be alone forever, mother?” Jazlene snivels, “why won’t he let me marry?”

“He only wants to find the right man, that is all, darling,” Rezlyn coaxes. “He is overprotective and that is good for it means he will find a husband for you with a similar bearing.”

“Such sweet words cannot convince me. He punishes me. When all my lady friends have wed and borne a whelp or two, I remain with the dust and stone.”

“Do not be theatrical,” Rezlyn girds, “you are silly.”

“I am not silly, mother. I am afraid. I am twenty and three and I have no suitor. I have only a war butchering any man who might have my hand. Why must this go on? Why must I suffer for the gripes of stubborn kings.”

“We cannot fear. This war will be won and you will have a knight for a husband. Isn’t that better? To have a warrior you can be proud of than some bookish lord in his tower?” Rezlyn stands and moves to sit with her daughter, petting her as she cooes, “oh my beautiful, no man can resist you. You will see.”

⚔️

Some hours pass with the restless women, pacing and chattering, about careless things beyond marriage and war. Like needlework and a banquet that should be had upon the truce. Would that the day would come sooner.

You and Merinda stifle yawns that pass between you. The act is contagious as you stand in the tedium of the wealthy and wait for a duty to be called upon you. The hours you spend watching the women preen and swoon make you envy the stable boys and the shit shovelers.

The noise beyond those walls continues. You heard the moat open and the clopping hooves of horses, even the clatter of carts. The voices had since hushed but footfalls carried back and forth. The wordless activity betrays an air of impatience, almost of nervousness. As the ladies within mirror the sentiment.

Finally, as the windows darken and the candles burn brighter, a knock shakes the door. The ladies snap their heads around. Merinda is asleep on her feet as you move first. You open to a man in grey and black waits on the other side. He is not Lord Dustan’s.

“The duchess and her daughter,” he garbles through a mouth that sounds full of salt.

You dip your head and look to the ladies in question. There is a tension, of unease, of unknowing, of excitement turned to dread. This is not as it has been. There is not call to the dinner table. There is no buoyant introduction of a lord Dustan met as a young scamp. There is silence and fear. Has someone died? Has a battle been lost?

The women emerge and greet the man with niceties and tight-lipped simpers. He does not pay them heed as you and Merinda exchange looks. You trail after the ladies but the man stops. He turns back, a hand on the pommel at his waist, and sneers, a furrow in his brow.

“One of ya,” he grits.

Jazlene says your name. She must’ve noticed Merinda swaying on her feet. If she even cares so much about a maid. You keep your head down and follow as they press on. Down the corridor and around the duke’s study, recently deemed his war room. You’ve never been within. It is not the domain of women.

The grey and black soldier thumps on the door. Mother and daughter clasp hands. Even they can sense the unusual frigidity. The door opens from within. It is Lord Dustan. He wears a serious look on his lined face. The ladies are beckoned in and the soldier nudges you after them as you hesitate.

Lanterns light the space from the desk at the rear of the chamber. The large table draped in maps, wooden horses, and little wooden pucks stands central on a thick rug. A figure stands behind it, head down as his burly and broad silhouette seems to sop up the shadows.

The ladies follow the duke to stand across from the man. His head is down as he slides a horse along a road on the map. He stops it and grips it tight. He looks up and the lantern light dances on his features. You suck in a breath, as the rest do, stunned by his appearance.

His hair is white, his eyes are a goldish yellow, pupils deep pools of black, and his square jaw is just as thick as the rest of him. You have never seen a man like him before, but you have heard of one. Of him. King Geralt of Rivia.

You stand in similar confusion to the ladies. Their silent confoundment is broken by Duke Dustan as he nears the table. He sniffs and presses his fingers to the table top.

“Your highness, my wife, Lady Rezlyn, and my daughter, Lady Jazlene,” he introduces.

The women glance at each other then curtsy to the white king. He watches them dully. You fold your hands, taking it in curiously. It is rather something to witness the scene. You are so unimportant as to not be a part of it.

“Your highness,” the recite, “it is...”

“An honour,” Dustan finishes for them, “of course it is. We fondly welcome you and your allyship. We hope that we will be essential in ending this war. In helping you attain the peace you have so valiantly fought for--”

The king raises his hand to silence the lord. You can’t help but quork your head. Allyship? But King Geralt, he is of Rivia, he is of the hinterland, he is the one who invaded the summer country and bid it his own. He is the foe. That is what they told you.

“Enough...” the king speaks in a silty tone that scrapes in his throat. His eyes wander over the women and narrow. You wince as your own meet his golden irises and you shy away, putting your chin to your chest. That’s a mistake. “...words.” He slaps his hand down, “you do not win wars with words.”

“Yes, your highness, you are correct. I know it well. It is why I invited you here. It is the very reason I made my entreaty. You have my men, they will win this war for you.”

The king is hardly impressed by the fact. He looks back to the table and moves the horse further before turning it back. He knocks it over and stands completely straight.

“And the daughter of Debray, your highness. To have a wife of summer’s blood, men will bend the knee. If you show them you do not mean to eradicate but to join with them,” Dustan moves to stand closer to his daughter, “isn’t she a fine queen for a fine kingdom?”

Jazlene swoons and falls against her father. She’s fainted. Rezlyn grabs onto her other shoulder and you peek up at the chaotic scene. You come forward to help, snatching a pillow from the single couch, and you place it under Jazlene’s head as they lay her down on the floor.

A shadow shifts as Dustan and Rezlyn fuss over their daughter, fanning and calling to her. You look up as darkness clusters over you. You see the king staring down at the scene. No, not them. He staring at you. Before he can reprimand you, you put your head down.

You must quit that lest you find yourself at the wrong end of a switch.

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt of rivia #dark!geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #winter's king #au #medieval au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series

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hyunsvngs · 5 months

Text

𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 - han jisung x fem reader

wc: 1.3k

sw: MDNI. SMUT, mommy kink, sub jisung, dom reader, jisung’s bendy, anal fingering (m rec), dirty talk, multiple orgasms (m rec), handjob, cumplay, like 2 seconds of vaginal fingering, feminisation, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

he’s so sweet, your boy.

jisung lays beneath you with desperate eyes. he’s naked, cock hard and chubby between slender thighs. his feet are cosy in pink, fluffy socks, and you’re naked next to him. he keeps staring at your tits.

“how bendy are you, my love?” your fingertip trails over jisung’s nipple, dusky and pebbled against his chest. he shivers with anticipation, and then seems to process your question, and his hands move to the pits of his knees.

“sungie’s super bendy, mama,” he grins, and to prove his point, he bends his legs to his head. jisung is super bendy, it seems, and his lithe body contorts until his knees hit his shoulders. the process raises his body off the bed a bit, exposing the beautiful pink pucker of his hole and the way his balls rest above it, heavy and full.

he always gets so leaky when you play like this. his cock rests leaking like a damn faucet on the bottom of his tummy, pubic hair coated with it, and you run your fingers over a dribble of precum. his cock jumps at the feeling of your hand being so close, but you simply coo and slap his balls lightly.

“a-are you gonna play with me now, mommy?” jisung whimpers, and you nod soothingly, kissing the mole on his cheek. he stays in position for you, pliant. jisung can be a brat, sure, but when he’s in his good boy headspace, it’s so easy to be nice to him. his lips part with a shaky breath when your hand moves upwards, hovering just over the tip of his cock.

“how could i not play with you, baby? look at how pretty you are,” you soothe, and jisung smiles, wide and toothy. the smile instantly falls to let out a pornographic moan when you wrap your hand around his cockhead, stroking fast and hard with his precum as lube.

“ah- uh, uh, oh- mommy, mommy, ‘s so- oh, oh, your hands-“ he babbles, fingers paling where they cling onto his knees tightly. “oh, you’re so- mommy. mommy! you’re so hot!”

“thank you, baby,” you hum, pecking his nose. “does that feel good on your little cock, sungie?”

“mm- yeah, yeah,” he nods, hips canting upwards. he’s going to cum soon. he never lasts long when you play with him like this, but you can usually wring two or three more out of him before he’s tapped out. “mm, my cock, ah- oh, god, my balls, my balls! mommy, please!”

you’d spank him for being ungrateful in any other situation, but something about your plaything’s chocolate pleading eyes has you reaching down with your spare hand to cup his balls. your hand is warm around it, and you feel his balls tightening in your hand when you run your thumb over them.

“ah! fucking- hnnnnfg, mommy, mommy, am i good? mama, am i good? please-“

“you’re good, you’re the best boy,” you say, voice level and soft. when you press a kiss to the mole on his neck he moans, and when you suck his skin into your mouth he wails. his body is bouncing on the bed, impatient and needy, and the dripping cock in your hand has you feeling a little nicer than normal. “mm, d’you wanna cum? do you wanna shoot it in your mouth, princess?“

“i- oh, is that why-“

“oh, yeah,” you giggle. his eyes roll back into his head, breath stuttery and heaving. “that’s why you’re bending for mama. i wanna lick your cum out of your mouth.”

“i can- i can- mama, i can do that! please touch my- please, please, my pussy-“

your finger slips from his balls, other hand still pumping frantically at his cock, and you rest it on the puckered skin of his asshole. just the pressure has him seizing up, head rolling against his pillow and tongue lolling out. he looks dumb with it, drooling all down his cheek, and when you force your finger inside unlubed and raw he’s cumming. it sprays upwards, and jisung raises his head, keening through an open mouth as you aim his cum onto his tongue. he’s dirty with it, sticking his tongue out further and grinding down onto your fingers.

when he’s done, tongue sufficiently covered in it, it’s only a brief moment before he’s dropping his legs and lunging towards you. he pushes his cum into your mouth, desperate, and you suck his tongue clean to hear him whine. it’s messy, spit slicking to your lips and dribbling to your chins. jisung’s hands grab impatiently at whatever he can reach.

“fuck- mm, fuck- mama, i want-“ jisung huffs, his fingers pressing between your legs. you’re naked for him, have been since the start. your folds are soaking with your arousal, hole clenching with need. “you want me? you- i can get hard again, fuck-“

“give it to me, baby, c’mon,” you moan, and he nods, flipping you over to rest on your back. his body looms over you, chest pink with his flush and you giggle as he pushes his cock into your pussy. he’s still a little too soft, despite his cock chubbing up again from your kissing, and he whines through the overstimulation. “thaaat’s my good boy. oh, my pretty baby.”

jisung nods, and you feel him shift just slightly forward. his cock hardens with the movement, and then he’s nodding again, as if to motivate himself. he huffs out a breath and you wait, silent, and then his hips are bunny fucking into you.

“oh, fuckin’ pussy- shit, ‘s so good, ‘s so good, baby, mommy, my baby, oh-“

“you like mommy’s pussy, baby? nice ‘n wet?” you coo, thighs resting apart for jisung to fuck into you. you’re so wet your pussy squelches and dribbles with every thrust, and the noises only make jisung louder. the bed squeaks with his thrusts. “mm, you’re so good. fuckin’ me so good, honey.”

“yeah? yeah? it’s good?” he babbles, hands scrabbling on the sheets to find purchase to fuck you harder. you moan when he finds what he’s looking for, and his knees kick like bambi on ice to try and get closer to you. “my- my cock’s sensitive, mama, it’s-“

“sungie, baby, don’t call it that,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. he’s breathless, only moaning in a confused tone at your statement. “that’s a clit, baby, not a cock.”

jisung positively sobs. his head falls to your chest, eyes finally overflowing with tears as his hips don’t stop with the excessive pace. “i love you- i love you, mama, mom- mommy, i love you-“

“yeah, sweetheart, i love you too,” you reply halfheartedly, pussy finally tingling with the beginnings of an orgasm. your lover only fucks you harder when you moan, drooling on your tits messily and delirious with it. “d’ya like scissoring me, baby? you’re gonna make me cum, dirty little princess.”

“y-yeah? yeah! yeah, m- i- princess is gonna make you cum, i am,” he sobs, nodding, and you run your fingers through his hair. it’s tousled from your activities and you pull on the back, making him let out a wet, high pitched noise. “please! please cum, please cum, i g’ta cum!”

“i’m gonna cum, princess, i’m gonna cum, keep fucking me, just like that,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. with a particularly well timed thrust you’re shaking and cumming, pussy gushing and squirting over his cock, and jisung can’t help but cum.

his cock spurts inside of you, less than the last time but still a lot. jisung always cums a lot, and hard, like he’s doing now - his socked feet kick against the bed with it, eyes rolling back into his head and fingers gripping your hips desperately.

after a few seconds pass, he’s still shaking on your chest like he can’t help himself. his hips kick, once and then twice, and he giggles delightedly. “‘m still cumming. feels s’good, i- ah!”

“let it all out, baby,” you coo, hand running over his shoulder. he giggles again, nodding, happy and delirious.

he’s so sweet, your boy.

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Text

no face, no case • eren jaeger x black !fem reader

who knew that a simple picture posted on your Instagram could cause so much controversy? Oh…if only they knew the origin of it.

themes: just some nasty ass vacation/hotel sex, marriage proposal, marking (from the reader), foot play, drunk eren, back shots, overstim, slapping, choking..yktv

📝: sliding down a wall thinking about Eren and his influencer wife again like ughhh…this is just a little short drabble I’m totally not using an excuse to avoid finishing the full fic..never 🌚

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰──── ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡

48 minutes ago

10,076 likes

location: Santorini, Greece

not exactly the reaction you were expecting to garner for a simple photo. A mere picture like the countless hundreds of others that could be found on your instagram feed..except it wasn’t!..and granted, it was nothing for you to crack one hundred thousand in a day but this?..was for a whole other reason. Reasons that had sent your entire following and the rest of the of the internet into a frenzy. Your texts practically imploding and notifications gone off the rails.

blogs like TheShadeRoom scrambling and breaking their fingers trying to post about the salacious snapshot posted from (reader’s social media name). What photo? Just a selfie taken from a ceiling mirror of the Katikies hotel room..

swaddled by crinkled white sheets and a man with long hair, tan skin, a tattoo on his right shoulder blade with various scratches on his back as he lie on top of you. Your right hand splayed across his skin and your ring finger glistening with a giant rock.

right now, you were the number one trending topic on Twitter..timeline ablaze with speculation of who was asleep in your bed. But in a not so distant past, he was wide awake, contributing to the mess you both lie in..

one hour earlier….

“F-fuck! Baby…you fucking me so good!”

the words spilling from between your drool stained lips, head tilted backwards courtesy of his fist clutched around the Brazilian wavy bundles cascading to your thin waist. The same hand held the diamonds of his buss down AP gleaming under the dimmed lighting, kept you reigned in as he tugged (y/n) back against his cock.

each inch filling you repeatedly and only getting deeper as those strokes intensified. Your thick, plump ass bouncing off the v-line of his chiseled six pack, moving fluidly like water as he pumped you full.. “I can’t help it..this pussy ‘s good, babygirl..and you creaming on my shit too, goddamnnn.”

that whiny wail coming from none other than world renowned artist and your fiancé, Eren Jaeger. Although that last part was to remain a secret until the two of you were ready to pop out and share that with the world. For now, you were celebrating your newfound engagement with passionate, rough and filthy lovemaking.

he had flew you out to the island on a last minute, spur of the moment getaway to celebrate the release of his long awaited EP and its success. Little did you know in the midst of a toast at an intimate candlelight dinner, would he fall to one knee, brandishing a small velvet box and ask you to be his wife. Without hesitation, you accepted and now, fast forward and you were being treated like his dirty little slut!

“..and imma get to fuck you like this for the rest of my life..oh shit..” so helplessly and needy rutting his hips into your bouncing backside. That tight grip of your cunt and milky cream, thanks to a thumb resting in your asshole, slathering him made it hard to keep his composure. Oh, he was so pathetic and fucking sexy as he hovered over your body.

but he always got like this with alcohol in his system. Shots of Dusse exchanged in the hot tub had led to the dark liquor coursing your veins and bringing out your nastiest sides.

from letting him dangle your head from the edge of the mattress and sloppily fuck your throat into oblivion as you drank his cum like water or sitting atop his face and gliding your pretty pussy across his lips until he sucked your sensitive clit to a squirting climax..going for rounds and rounds to give each other insurmountable pleasure. Beating your poor little walls sore with that big dick and he still was going! Now, you were hitting your second winds and it was as if he was trying to break the bed in the process.

“Aaah! Erennn..right there, you hitting my fucking spot!…gonna make m’ come all over this dick!” hearing your sweet voice cry out like that that done nothing more than to fuel his raging fire. Roping a hand underneath your thick thighs to massage your little bud;

coffin tips of the long acrylics brushing gently against your folds. Meanwhile, he had arched your back to its highest point and began pounding that dripping heat. Your mouth cradling a fluffy pillow in front of you as tried to muffle those moans but it was to no avail.

reaching across, Eren grasped that white linen and tossed it to the floor before folding himself completely over (y/n)’s back that he proceeded to mark with light kisses. Heavy full balls slapping against your slit and making your legs quiver in the process. “Then let me hear it, baby. Tell me how good it is..who that pussy belongs to.”

there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind from the way he had you clawing at the sheets and nutting all over his shaft but something about hearing it just inflated his ego. Tugging at your throat now, he’d pull you towards him to hiss in your ear as he spanked your ass. “I said let me hear that shit, mama..don’t get quiet on me now.”

without having to repeat himself twice, you’d mutter in a choked out whimper, glaring up at him with fluttering eyes and answer: “..mmm, you daddy! This pussy yours..” satisfied and quite full of himself, your future husband smirked and pulled you into a searing kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth where he drew out a trail of saliva when you parted.

in an almost lightning fast motion, he’d pull out slightly only to flip you over onto your back and fold your legs up; curling your thighs in his muscular, inked up arms. Both knees burrowed into the the memory foam, sinking down as he gathered his stance one more time. Gripping the shaft of that stiff cock, he’d tap the head against your messy sex..coaxing out more of that stickiness he craved. He couldn’t stop until you were pumped full of his nut either so with that, he’d push that thick length through your walls until you could feel it resting at the pit of your stomach.

emerald green eyes locked into your own as he stared down at your face, watching the reactions change by the second as he pinned you down and stuffed that tight pussy with every inch he could offer. Thrusting gently for only a second to slow his pacing. In that short minute, he’d glance down to spot your feet plastered to his chest…

a gold anklet with his initials and white painted toes planted to his skin. To quell your shaking, Eren slid them into his mouth and suckled as he continued to feed you deep strokes. Flicking his tongue over your instep and ankle as well.

“Oooh fuck…you know how much I love that shit, baby..”

There was no time for him to go slow..he couldn’t handle it right now..it felt too goddamn good. Suddenly, a slight bulge started forming at the base of your tummy near that dangling belly button ring…and you’d push him back almost immediately. Big mistake.

rather than holding those legs back, your throat became the next resting place of his large hands. His thumbs brushing the sides of your face at the same time.

“Move your hands, baby. Or I’m only gonna get deeper..don’t you dare try to keep this shit from me right now.” Sucking his teeth, trying to keep himself from coming right there but it was all but impossible when he’d begin to drum out small splashes of squirt from your little hole. It’d spasm and clamp every time he’d pull out and go back in. You couldn’t stop and he didn’t try to stop it either. Just slapping those nine inches against you to make it worse. “Squirt on that shit, baby. Don’t hold it from me..” giving you light taps to the cheek to bring you back to consciousness.

Eventually though, he couldn’t keep up either and those rhythmic strokes slowed to more sporadic ones as his larger frame fell cast over you. Digging your nails deeply into his muscular back, adding to the collection of scratches from earlier;

keeping him close while he hit his final stride. You’d squeeze at his base and it caused faint gasps to erupt in your ear. With his long brown locks gliding over you, (y/n) cupped that handsome face and pulled him into a searing kiss to help ease his mind. “..c-can’t hold it..’m gonna come, princess! I’m coming in this pussy—“ the last words he uttered before you’d feel his stroking come to an abrupt halt and along with a loud groan, his entire load was emptied into your womb.

“Mmmm…yes. Come in me, daddy..let it out.” Encouraging with sweet nothings and slow rubs to his back. He was pumping for nearly an entire minute until you felt it come to a stop and he was left an overwhelmed and overstimulated mess…completely spent and at your whim. He hadn’t been this vulnerable in a very long time and he couldn’t believe that this was future. Fucking this beautiful woman every night until the day he died. Exchanging kisses and breathy ‘I love you’ ‘s in a moment of passion, you’d fall into one another’s grasp and soon after, he’d fall off into slumber.

gently caressing him, you’d place a soft peck to his temple..happily thinking about the fact that he was yours forever now. And just to capture the occasion, you’d reach over for your phone, grabbing the device from the nightstand. Tilting it up, (y/n) let the camera take a couple stills of your half nude bodies. It was a night you’d cherish forever and true enough, the world wouldn’t know who was responsible for that happiness until you were full and well ready.

but a little teaser wouldn’t hurt.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══ ══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖

if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! please check out some of my other stuff in the masterlist. Likes are appreciated but reblogs would mean the world and help me out a TON! Also, considering leaving a little something in the tip jar if you’re feeling extra generous! 🫶🏾

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unboundprompts · 2 months

Note

Any prompts for a hero/ similar figure being confronted by villain, or any other horrified character, about them making the choice to save the city/world and not their SO/ loved one?

Love your prompts btw. Please and thank you!!

Prompts in Which the Hero Chooses to Save the World instead of Their Loved One

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

"What did you do?!" the Villain wailed, stopping his fighting to fall to his knees. "I had to save everyone," the Hero answered, raising their fists to continue the fight. But Villain was on the ground, staring up at Hero as if he was seeing them for the first time. He never thought that Hero would sacrifice their lover. Their lover that was never really in harms way. Their lover that Villain was just using to keep them distracted from his plan. Hero was supposed to save her. Hero was always supposed to save their lover in the end.

"You let him die," Villain said weakly. It wasn't even a question at this point, just a mortifying statement. "It was for the greater good," Hero said. "No," Villain shook their head, "this wasn't the greater good. This, this was murder."

"You had to do it," the villain repeated, mocking. She threw up her hands in anger. "You could have saved them! But you just let them die! And what for?"

"Did you even love her?" the Villain asked, voice soft and brittle. "If you loved her, you would have chosen her. You would have chosen her every time. No hesitation."

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

#writing prompts #creative writing #dialogue prompt #writeblr #prompt list #story prompt #ask box prompts #hero and villain prompts #hero and villain #writing prompt #angst prompts

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kitten4sannie · 9 months

Note

Hi congrats on 3k :)

Soo I’ve been thinking about sub Mingi quite a bit lately and if we’re going to get spooky lol what if he’s a clingy ghost that haunts and constantly comes around when he wants your attention and body? ;) Picture this: it’s 3 am and you wake up out of your sleep to see him gingerly pulling at your sleep shorts with a cute lil pout <3 He’s whining and pleading, “Y/N, can you please fuck me? I’m so lonely </3”

hehe thank you ^-^ 💞 ALSO EXCUSE YOUUU – NEEDY ?? SUB?? GHOST?? MINGI ???? 👁️👄👁️ i’m literally on my knees for you and this concept anonnie rjwjhw i hope i can deliver something worthy of this thot provoking ask <33

⛧ seance smutfest ⛧

w.c: 2.1k

warnings: pouty subby baby boy mingi :((, big dick mingi, also he’s a ghost so he has ghost? features? lol, dom! reader, reader’s kinda mean ngl jssjs, so many pet names omg, some possessive language, light degradation, teasing, begging, praise, some pet play dynamics (everyone lets say thank you to @lemonhongjoong for making puppy ghost min a thing <3), drooling, brief mutual masturbation, grinding, cum eating, brief oral (receiving), doggy style obv, overstim, multiple creampies

Your roommates tend to keep to themselves these days — most notably when the sun goes down. They can’t bring themselves to tell one another about the things they’ve been experiencing without sounding like they’re crazy.

How could they possibly explain that they feel like they’re being watched when they’re taking a shower and laying alone in their beds? That they hear their names being whispered into their ears just as their eyelids grow heavy enough for them to drift off to sleep? How could they possibly let anyone know about the howls and wails they hear coming from somewhere in the house late at night?

How could you tell them that it had one of the most complicated, yet simplest answers? The answer being the (very needy) apparition that had appeared in your room for the third time that week. At 3 am, no less. A groan tumbled out of your dry throat as you tried to blink away the darkness and make out the figure that hovered above you.

“Y/N…wake up, so you can fuck me…” he whispered in a deep, breathy voice, the edges of his words thick with desire.

“You can’t keep doing this, Mingi…” you croaked, feeling the odd heaviness and simultaneous lightness of his body pressing into yours.

The ghost frowned, his head lowering slightly. “But I need you.”

You grimaced, your cheeks growing warm. “I need sleep.”

He whimpered, his fingers already pulling down your sleep shorts past your hips, looking down at you with an intense, unwavering gaze, his bluish plump lips forming a signature pout. You could already feel his heavy cock pressing into the side of your thigh. “Y/N, please. I’m so lonely.”

The fire inside you was lit — just like that. This was why you were never able to say no to him. The ghostly brat was so good at begging for your attention and body, you couldn’t possibly deny him. Though, he would have to work for it.

“If you want me so bad,” you began somewhat mockingly, feeling his cold hands settle on your hips for a moment and squeeze them slightly, a trail of goosebumps immediately forming where he touched you. “Then you’ll just have to get off in front of me first, ghostie.”

“D-don’t call me that,” Mingi murmured, blowing a few strands of whitish blond hair out of his eyes, biting his lip at your proposition. He would’ve blushed if he were still alive. “…Call me yours…”

“You know what, Mingi?”

“What?” he whined, his head drooping more, his bottom lip jutting out just enough to make you fall further underneath his spell, though you were determined to get the most out of this paranormal encounter.

Giggling softly at his reaction, you took his hands and slowly ran them up along your curves, up and under your hoodie until they were just underneath your breasts, feeling his fingers press slightly into your ribcage. He stared hard at you in the darkness, the whites of his eyes practically glowing as you gazed back at them with your own half-closed ones. “I’ll call you mine as soon as you cum for me. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you play with your cock?”

Mingi throbbed inside his sweatpants as he pulled at the drawstrings, letting them fall until his long, veiny cock sprung out and curved up into his lower abdomen.

You smiled at the sight of it, your eyes trailing his thick length until you settled on the flushed, pronounced tip. “That’s a good boy.”

Mingi bit back a moan, his cock twitching on its own, the head leaving a strand of pre-cum behind when it made contact with his lower abdomen.

Sighing softly, you couldn’t help but give in and stroke your ego a little. “That’s all it takes, huh, Min? A little praise and you’re ready to spill your load for me?”

“Yeah, it makes me feel really good,” he answered in an oddly shy manner, despite his hand already closing around the base of his cock and jerking upwards, another thick bead of pre-cum oozing out of the bluish tip. “Fuck, I need you so bad."

You licked your lips, letting your hand slip down into your panties to rub your wetness around. “What do you need exactly, ghost boy? Enlighten me.”

“Need to be inside you. Need to fuck your cunt. Feel it squeeze around me when I fill you up. And, fuck–” He groaned harshly, his eyes centered on your moving hand, whimpering at the sounds of your slick, his wrist beginning to hurt from how roughly he was pleasuring himself. "Nnngh, does it feel good, Y/N? Knowing I’m gonna cum just for you?”

“It feels really good, Min,” you breathed out, rubbing your clit in between two fingers, tilting your head to the side, some of your hair falling into your eyes. “But, you know what would feel even better?”

“What?” he inquired as soon as the words left your mouth, his own mouth starting to hang open to let drool drip out, his cock throbbing away.

“If you rubbed your cock on my cunt, Minnie.” You smiled at the mess he was already becoming for you, lowering your panties just enough so that he could make out the slick glistening on your folds. “Do you want that?”

An airy whine left Mingi’s lips, his hips already starting to move on their own, practically using his hand as a fleshlight. “Yes, please.”

“So obedient,” You giggled, reaching out to run your index finger up along his stiff length, watching it twitch a bit once you swiped your finger up and over his cockhead. “And so sensitive. How cute.”

Mingi seriously would’ve turned into a tomato at this point, but you didn’t have to know that. He simply pouted and rutted himself against your upper thigh, getting his pre-cum all over it, pleading for you until you eventually tossed your panties to the side and spread your thighs apart for him.

“Get to work, Min,” you purred, running your fingers through his shaggy hair.

Like a dog hearing the dinner bell, he sprung into action, resting his hands near either side of your head, his chilled body flush against your heated one, his cock already rubbing deliciously along your cunt, more pre-cum leaking out of the tip. “Feels so good, so good, so good–”

“Aww, look at you, getting all worked up for me. What a needy boy.”

“Need you so bad,” he reassured, blowing a few bangs out of his eyesight. “Wanna fill you up.”

Wiping away a bit a sweat from your forehead, you couldn’t help but to let out a few breathy moans, the tip of the ghost’s thick cockhead sliding against your clit in a way that sent electricity through the rest of your body. “Cum for me and i’ll let you inside, Min, I promise…”

Mingi suddenly pushed himself up and grabbed onto your hips, thrusting forward so quickly, the springs in the mattress began to creak underneath the both of you, your combined slick allowing him to steadily bring you to your peak. “Gonna…cum…for you, Y/N…”

“Yeah, that’s it, just like that,” you praised breathily, feeling your lower half getting lifted up from how desperately he began to fuck himself on your wet cunt, your head dropping back when your high took over you, barely able to listen to all of the whiny moans that began to leave Mingi’s drooling mouth. “Such a good boy, my good boy…”

“Your–nnnngh–good boy,” Mingi echoed weakly, his body shuddering, his fingers leaving bruises in the flesh of your hips, holding you still as he left spurt after spurt of his release on your already dripping cunt and lower abdomen.

Once Mingi lowered your body back down on the bed, you ran your fingers through the warm liquid he left behind, giggling softy at the sound of his heavy panting and the sight of his pretty glistening lips when he licked his cum off of your fingers without you having to ask, his spit dripping down them. “What a naughty boy you are.”

“Just for you,” he nodded, trying to lick up the saliva that had dripped down his chin.

“Oh, sweetheart, you want to fuck me so bad, you’re going to drool all over yourself?” Your eyes sharpened, knowing you were about to reignite his fuse. “Are you a puppy or something?”

Mingi let out a shameless moan from your words, his previously half-hard cock coming back to life and throbbing steadily. If he had visible pupils, they would be blown out by now. “Yeah, I’m a needy puppy…I need my Master’s cunt.”

“Then, clean up your mess, puppy,” you chimed, his title for you giving you so much satisfaction you almost came right then and there. You spread your thighs apart, sending an inviting smile his way. “And then you can fuck your Master dumb, okay?”

Mingi’s mouth was on your cunt before you could take another breath, his wide tongue collecting your juices and his own cum as he brought it up and down your cunt. “Mmm, fuck…”

“Good puppy,” you praised, your cunt pulsing around his tongue once he shoved it inside along with two fingers that slowly spread you apart, almost losing your composure from the way he began to vigorously tongue-fuck you. “Fuck, what do you think you’re doing, Min?”

“ ‘M just cleaning up my mess,” he moaned against your cunt, swiping at your clit with the tip of his tongue, making you throb again. “I wanted to get you nice and stretched out for my cock too. Don’t want to hurt my Master.”

Mingi’s filthily adorable words drifted through your lust-drunk mind, encouraging you to spread your hole open for the sweet spirit, gazing up at him. “I’m ready for you, puppy. Come and get it.”

You couldn’t remember how long you had been there for, taking Mingi’s cock from behind, your thighs trembling underneath you, the side of your face squished into the cum-soaked mattress, your sore wrists being held taut in the ghost’s tight grip, your throat growing more and more dry every time he sunk back into the tight heat of your cunt. You didn’t even have to worry about your moans being heard by your roommates. Mingi’s moans were much louder, much more whiner than yours.

Poor Mingi couldn’t help it. It just felt so good being balls-deep in such a tight, warm hole he could fuck and fill until he had no more cum left to empty out inside you. His eyes wandered down your back, fixating on the milky liquid that dripped down his length, slamming himself into you until it got pushed back inside where it belonged. “Gonna cum, gonna fuck you so full, it’ll be dripping out of you during breakfast tomorrow,” he warned in a weak, breathy voice, massaging and squeezing your hip with his free hand.

“Do it, Min, fuck me so full,” you cried out, feeling your entire body begin to shudder and throb with pleasure, catapulting over the edge along with Mingi once he began to slowly fuck his load into you until it joined the others still coating your used inner walls. “One more time, baby, fill me again…”

“ H-hold on…’m too sensitive…right now,” the ghost informed in between pants, idly licking at the drool that wanted to leak out past his lips. He let go of your wrists to wipe at his mouth, not prepared for the way your cunt suddenly clenched around his length.

“One more, Minnie, you can do it,” you encouraged through slurred words, lifting yourself up so that you could began to drive yourself back onto his cock, growing wetter just from the filthy squelching of your combined cum, Mingi’s sudden gasps, and his equally cute high pitched, airy moans. “That’s right, feels so good, huh?”

“S-so good,” Mingi choked out, running his hands up his body and holding onto himself periodically, hyper-fixated on the space where your slick bodies connected, whining each time you slammed yourself back onto him and took his cock inside as far as it would go. “Oh my goddd…you’re gonna make me cum again.”

You looked back at him, admiring the way his glistening lips were stuck in an ‘o’ shape, the way his eyebrows were screwed upwards, the look in his teary, half-closed eyes that told you not to stop. “Cum for me, baby, come on, give it to me,” you moaned out, fucking yourself on his cock until you clamped down on it, your own release spilling out of you and down your inner thighs.

“Y/N, fuck…!” Right on cue, Mingi let out a shamelessly loud wail, a few tears escaping his eyes, as you fucked him through his intense orgasm, milking his cock until he unloaded every last drop into you.

You were brought out of your cloudy headspace when Mingi’s body landed near yours on the mattress, suddenly compelled to wipe the remnants of tears away from his drool-stained face. “What a good ghost boy you are,” you whispered teasingly, yours fingers resting against his clammy cheek, rubbing it gently with your thumb.

Mingi squished his opposite cheek into the pillow, not knowing that it was flushed with a deep blue hue. His eyes crinkled at the edges, giving you a wobbly smile.

“Your ghost boy.”

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suguru-getos · 1 month

Text

//fractures// geto suguru x f!reader // chapter 2

🔗-> part one

warnings: hurt-comfort, mentions of wounds, mentions of stitches, guilt, complex emotions from suguru, panic attacks, reader is in a dark headspace, fluff too!! 🙂‍↔️💅🏻

story summary: being a monkey is the norm except when you're captured by geto sama because he needs money from your parents. however, you may just have to suffer a little extra because of the forced thinking about the right and wrongs... you're putting him through. the affection you’re forcing him through…

chapter summary: suguru tends to you after the whole ordeal caused by him, still conflicted & somehow tortured with the way his heart pangs at your condition. 🩷

a/n: please comment down below if you want to be tagged in the taglist <3 thank you ‼️ it's so evident that i'm just writing this for my own silly liddul heart TT_TT

an hour, at maximum. an hour had passed from when geto left your bleeding, tattered body on the bed. the mark of 'MONKEY' with deep, gashing cuts and the way your blood oozed out of your injured, broken skin was haunting his very core. he did it majorly for himself, just to remind himself that you're one. you're nothing but a monkey and monkeys shouldn't have the freedom of life. monkeys are filthy- monkeys breed curses- monkeys are disgusting and vile- monkeys-

his own feet betrayed him quickly when he found himself running for your room. the cream colored satin bedsheet stained with blood. your foot prints stained with blood directing towards the bathroom. his can feel his heart sink at the sheer amount of blood loss. jaw clenching and a soft wave of anxiety which ripens with every passing moment hugging him. did you… die? no, no its just been an hour-

he rushes to the bathroom door, watching you lay limp, holding a piece of gauze in your bloodied hands. you must have passed out by trying to give yourself first aid. he falls to his knees, tears in his eyes seeping through at the sight of usual color in your lip faded to discoloration. you look so peaceful when you sleep. he finally notices the wound inflicted by him on you, it was looking lethal. a striking reminder that you were a monkey and he was, well, a monster.

he doesn't understand what's happening, he was pretty clear that he needs to irradicate the whole human race, he has to. only those with superior selves, who can withstand not creating a curse should be allowed to live. how will he achieve this milestone when his heart weeps at the sight of one pathetic little human half his size losing consciousness.

his bulky and sturdy arms wrap around your body, hugging you closer to him and taking you to his room. your room was a blood bath anyway, he needs to ask the servants to clean it up. gently placing your body atop the plush mattress of his room, he took out his first aid kit, good thing you had been passed out. your wounds are deep and require stitches. he can't bear any more of your screams now without breaking like glass. his mind has already decided to punish him with repeated rings and episodes of your cries and wails when suguru did this to you. he wishes they could stop - he wishes they never stop. he needs to be punished.

bringing your wrist close to him, he decides to stitch those gashes up, watching your face every few seconds. you were knocked out cold, not an expression on your pretty face. he feels like it’s a win, when you'll be awake, at least you wouldn't see the word 'MONKEY' engraved on you… then again, it will scar, and it will scar bad. "you're pathetic" he hums at your sleeping form. "fragile, useless, powerless, pathetic." he adds on, the sentence more a reminder to his own self rather than for you. you're not listening to this anyway. "I could snap your neck like a twig and you wouldn't be able to defend yourself. anyone I call my family could." he sighs, fuck - he's tearing up again. you almost look dead over just an anger tantrum of his. he really needs to be very careful. you're like a little bunny who could die at the slightest bit of carelessness.

a few hours pass with suguru holding your hand, observing the crests and troughs of your sleeping face, how your chest barely heaves but still reminds him that you're alive. he couldn't be more glad that you're alive. he hates that. he hates that it brings him joy that your heart is still beating. he hates that you are bringing him joy and copious amounts of guilt.

"geto sama!" nanako gleams from outside his bedroom door. he wipes his tears at the sound of his adopted daughter's voice. "yes? what is it?" he hums from inside. "the monkey isn't in her room!" she pouts from outside, and suguru gets up to open his door. the teenager watching you lie down on geto's bed with a face of confusion. why were you laying down on 'their' geto sama's room? you- a monkey- the look of disgust in her face is inevitable.

"relax, nanako." he hums, "we need to return her to her parents after 9 days." he responds with his usual close-eyed feline smile. "yeah, but why is she here?" she pouts, "she's too pretty for a monkey though-" a frown envelopes her face. "I agree." suguru looks at you momentarily, a moment of longing and guilt erupting from the depths of his heart before quickly snapping out of it. "I got angry at her, and punished her." he continues, while nanako could see with the way the gauze bandage on your forearm was inflicted with dark reds of blood, that you indeed, were punished. "what did she do?" she asks instinctively and suguru gnaws at his lower lip.

nothing. you did absolutely nothing.

"well, she is a monkey after all." nanako adds, shrugging. "her purpose is as our 'money collecting monkey', isn't it?" she asks him, and he faintly nods. "well, if she really made you angry, geto sama. I suggest you can kill her after getting the money!" she chirps as if it was the most normal thing to say. suguru, on the other hand, feel sickened to his stomach at the thought. "hmm. I need some time alone, nanako" he declares, watching the teen leave his room and locking his door.

he's quick to grace himself in the sanctuary of your presence though, hand back holding yours. "just nine more days of you here, monkey." he reminds both of you. "then your parents will come and get you and this wouldn't exist." he smiles, a sadness spreading across his face.

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

you don't wake up for one and a half days. the exhaustion on your body, the lack of nutrition and the loss of blood demands rest. AND, geto suguru is absolutely tweaking!

he sat next to you, watching you gently, leaning beside you against the headboard. you didn't wake up. he hasn't showered, hasn't gone out of his bed. his family thinks its weird, but they don't push him. suguru is a tantrum king after all, and a pissed off suguru chan is best avoided. the next morning, you're awake before noon. suguru hasn't budged, he has declined all his meetings, all his catch-ups, everything. why? he doesn't know that now, his mind doesn't give him the time to reason for any of it right now. the hollow pit of anxiety that was created was now a bottomless one. he wanted relief from it, he wanted to see you awake! shoko- maybe he needs to talk to shoko-

you shifted a little and his attention is immediately diverted to you, looking at you with the biggest sigh of relief possible. "ah-" a pained whimper escaped you, it hurts everywhere. your ribs hurt, you can barely breathe, tears sting your eyes as you groan, trying to get up. the lack of iron in your body making you dizzy. "good morning, it's afternoon now." suguru hums, just 7 days with you. why is he counting days like a mad man in prison?! before you could process anything, your eyes widened when you heard his voice, heart fluttering out of your very chest and breathless pants echoing in the room. you gripped your chest, it burns, your lungs burn from the lack of air your body can't get due to the whole panic of it all. what will he do? will he hurt you again? fuck- your head hurts, everything hurts- "plea- please" you gasp out, the veins in your forehead strained and popping as you began wailing again. shrieks and cries of pain and panic.

suguru doesn't know what to do about it, he needs to hug you close and tell you it's going to be okay. he wouldn't hurt you. he feels sorry- you don't have to break apart like this- does he even deserve to say that?

instinct… he is just acting on his instinct now.

"breathe with me, ssh~ listen, listen, little one. look at me, breathe with me. deep breath in- come on- follow me-" his voice is soft, but you're inconsolable. you have your very own instinct, the instinct to flee from him. the instinct to run away from him. you struggle against his hold and choke on sobs, leaning away. suguru is quick to pull you back to him, your head against his chest, soft head pats coming after. "ssh ssh ssh~ nothing's happening, no one's going to hurt you." he echoes it repeatedly. "that's it, that's it…" his own rapid heartbeats turning calmer and calmer as your shoulders slump back in exhaustion. you stop resisting after a few minutes, letting him hold you softly.

"just seven more days, and you'll be home." suguru hums to comfort you.

"I hope you die." you mumbled with equal hatred to his comfort. may as well be killed instead of spending seven whole days with him… "I hope everyone you ever knew dies, and they die in front of you." you spit out in your venom laced tone after calming down, trying to lean away from suguru's hug.

"and? who will kill them? you?" he is almost amused, but nothing you say with outweigh his guilt right now. "let’s get you cleaned up and get you to a doctor." he announces. he still has 7 ol' days with you after all.

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songmingisthighs · 2 months

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Wanbelyn

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. lxxiii - nAWt

neurosurgeon!hongjoong × reader

buy me coffee ?

genre : dad!au

rating : mature; crude jokes and filthy language

warning : medical situation

wc : 1.6 k

where love and peace is held, i never expected for this to happen. i planned and i planned, i expected, and i hoped, but it was never you. you held what i wanted hostage to make room for you, the thing that i needed but has no means of acceptance. deny me, live your best life.

"Thank God you're here, go- go there! I'm trying to get ahold of (y/n)'s cousin!" Wooyoung hissed frantically as he rushed to the nurse's station.

The first thing Hongjoong noticed was chaos, in one section of the ER. Usually, as bad as 'the emergency room' sounded, there wouldn't be this much commotion so it caused him dread when saw people rushing accompanied by the sounds of his son crying and his nanny trying to calm him down. It not a good sign when patients screaned loudly to no end and it was never a good sign when healthcare providers act frantically.

His legs took him immediately to his son's bed where the little boy was thrashing against the doctor and nurses who were trying to examine him but failing as they didn't want to hurt him accidentally. "Kijoong!" He called out, rushing to his son's side who upon noticing him, wailed louder and tried climbing onto his dad. "God, what happened?" Hongjoong asked the ER doctor who sighed, "The boy fell and we're trying our best to see if there's anything wrong with him but he's being difficult. As you can see, he had a couple of scratches and bumps due to the impact but since he fell off of the elevator, we wanted to make sure," he said. Hongjoong's eyes widened at the revelation and his heart dropped to his stomach, "What the hell did you mean he fell off the elevator?" Kijoong, who was already calming down slightly from his dad's presence, got pulled back slightly so Hongjoong could examine his condition only to see that he didn't look bad at all considering the description of what happened, "H-how did he fall? Where's-"

Hongjoong's words were cut off by the sound of the curtain being pulled back to reveal your form, looking like you had gone through hell and being held back by the nurses who wanted you to remain still. "That's not what happened," you stated, shifting your gaze from Hongjoong to glare at the doctor, "You're making it seem like he was running amok all by himself so let me tell you what actually happened." The nurses tried to get you to lean back but you shrugged them off and even tried to sit up but the pained look on your face as your body started to fold proved you had rather major injuries.

The way you winced caused Hongjoong to let go of Kijoong, knowing that he had to make sure that you were alright much to Kijoong's disappointment and he let it show by screaming for his dad. Hongjoong told him that he'd be right back soon but Kijoong kept wailing, watching as his dad started to conduct a neurological examination on you. "Fuck, what the hell happened, (y/n)? W-why-" he was trying his best to see your pupillary reaction but you kept trying to push him off, "You go tend to your son, Hongjoong, please, I'm fine!" And that ticked Hongjoong off, "Fine? Fine!? Look at you!" his eyes started to water when he looked you over. You had a small bandage over the corner of your left forehead, nasty long and deep scratches on the side of your left arm that looked red, inflamed, and still slightly bleeding, and the left side of your pants that was rolled to your knees, revealing friction burns and bruises added with two broken fingernails. "You looked like you just fought a fucking bear, (y/n), this is- you're not okay! You need my help!" he scolded, shutting you up momentarily and the sternness of his voice caused Kijoong's wails to momentarily stop. "What happened?" Hongjoong asked, this time slightly softer.

After a moment and with a deep breath, you told him. "Kijoong ran past me after his session with Mingi, I didn't even get to ask Mingi about the assessment because I knew I had to get him and I did. I got Kijoong but he tried getting away from me," you said, pausing to take a shaky breath as you eyed Kijoong, "He was trying so hard to get away from me and all I could think about was getting him away from the escalator but then he pushed me and lost his footing." Hongjoong subconsciously settled to sit by your side on your bed which seemed to trigger something in Kijoong as he began to call for his dad, calls that fell on deaf ears as Hongjong was too focused on listening to what happened to you and his son while his brain was trying to assess the possibilities of internal injuries in you and his son. "So I did what I could think of first and dove right with him, I grabbed him and try to shield him from the impact, I'm sorry," you hiccupped, getting emotional as you felt guilty for letting Kijoong get hurt. Hearing you say that, Hongjoong chuckled tearily and grabbed your face in his hands gently, "Sorry?" he smiled, "You saved his head from cracking open like coconut, (y/n), you did what you thought you had to and you did it so well," he said, really grateful for you and your actions. Your shoulders slumped in relief over realizing that he wasn't mad at you nor did he blame you for the incident.

Meanwhile, seeing you two in such a state, Kijoong grew even more agitated and had even tried to claw the nurses and doctor off fo him, He wanted to jump in between you and Hongjoong and he wanted to do it right then, no more delays, In his childish mind, he there was nothing more important and no other situation is as important as this one. In his childish mind, he had to do something for his dad who had done so much for him. But being held back like this was preventing him from doing anything about it, from doing what he wanted. And no matter how much or how loud he shouted, no one was taking him seriously and it was infuriating, it was frustrating.

And then it happened.

Within a split second, Kijoong's eyes rolled back into his head and his body tensed, his jaw slackened and his fingers curled into tight fists. The voice that wailed loudly suddenly stopped which caught the attention of Hongjoong but by the time he got a good look at Kijoong, Kijoong was already spasming on his bed.

It was then that another hell broke loose.

Hongjoong let go of you almost instantly and rushed to Kijoong's side, not that you could blame him. In fact, at that moment, you suddenly didn't care about anything else, not even about yourself or your injuries as you ripped your IV off and rushed to Kijoong's other side. Though they could have helped, you shooed the doctor and nurses away, getting to immediate work of putting Kijoong in the position he should be in as he rode out his episode.

"Why? Why is it back now- he was doing just fine," you muttered to yourself. Somehow, in this situation, you were able to assume your role well as the caretaker while Hongjoong was doing his part as the concerned parent but still trying his best to keep his composure calm. Or, well, as calm as he could because what kind of a parent would just be okay seeing their child in such a medical situation.

It took a while but Kijoong finally came to. His body stopped spasming and his eyes rolled back to their normal positioning, his muscles relaxed and he began testing his vocal skills again. "Dad, daddy," he called, whimpering with tears slowly brimming in his eyes. "Hey, bud," Hongjoong smiled leaning in to hug his son gently, "I was so worried seeing you like that, are you okay? How are you feeling?" Although his dad was talking to him, he couldn't help but block his voice and focus on seeing you, Or, more specifically, your hand that was resting on Hongjoong's shoulder.

The next moment shocked everyone as Kijoong jumped up and pushed your body away with such strength that it made you stumble back, hitting the nearby tray which caused you to wince when your injured side got the brunt. "GET OFF MY DADDY!" he yelled loudly, his face growing red and although you were already at a considerably further distance, Kijoong was advancing on you like an animal before Hongjoong got a grip on him. "Kim Kijoong, what is the matter with you? You don't talk to an adult like that, you don't talk to (y/n) like that!" he scolded which didn't bode well for him as Kijoong began thrashing in his grip, screaming for you to leave his dad alone and for you to go away at the top of his lungs. His screams echoed through the area and the next and it frightened you- no. It broke your heart to hear him saying that he didn't want you around, telling you to leave. The usually sweet boy had turned on you and you didn't know what you did.

Despite your injuries having yet to be properly checked, you stumbled back and staggered out of the ER, as if listening to Kijoong's instruction.

"Hey, hey, hey, where are you going?" Wooyoung called, slamming the nurse's station phone to end his call before rushing to you, "Excuse me, miss, your cousin is coming so you need to keep your ass- hey!" you didn't listen to him, maybe you couldn't but who cared? You simply walked out, leaving Wooyoung worriedly following you but not before he stopped in Hongjoong's line of sight, mouthing 'what the hell?' but not waiting for a reply.

As much as he hated to admit it, Hongjoong didn't know what happened or what was going on and it was worrisome. It felt like a subtle afternoon breeze had crumbled his concrete castle down and there was nothing he could do to salvage anything. Worse of all, it felt like he had managed to hurt you all over again but this time, he couldn't go to you.

Fantastic.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

taglist :

@strawberry-yeo @luvt0kki @allisonleannn @dinossaurz @khjcs @blackb3ll @aloverga @at1nys-blog @itsbeeble @potatomountain @axo-l0tl @green-thots @intancollins @galaxypox @11glitch11 @maddiebabyxoxo @alyssajavenss @mirror-juliet @gxlden-bxbyy @charreddonuts @dreamlesswonder86 @mayonnaisehoeshit @kodzukein @teenyfinds @dear-dreamie @mitchloveswriting @soobiverse @satsuri3su @phenomenalgirl9 @guess-monst3r @dimeb29 @ka-ni-ma @yayaistime @angelicyeo @kyume02 @thedistractedwriter @surveilenceysystem @ateezourstars @aursmrt @mismatchfluffysocks @puppyminnnie @nycol-ie @yungilia @writingbarnes @worcesheshestershiresauce

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tongue-like-a-razor · 1 year

Note

hi babe, I have a request not sure if you are taking but- I was wondering if you could do something like Bradley's little girl, goes to the doctor to get a shot, and Bradley's there to comfort her while she's crying

Aww this was a such a cute request, I just had to do it! Thanks for sending it in :D

A Little Pinch

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Wife!Reader

Summary: Rooster tries to hold it together for the sake of his daughter while she gets a shot.

CW: needle (not graphic), fluff, dad Rooster

WC: 875

Masterlist

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Bradley mutters, holding your daughter in his lap as he kisses her head. “I’m right here and I promise you’re going to be okay.”

Your daughter is bawling in anticipation of the needle the doctor is preparing but you know that this shot is going to hurt your husband more than it will hurt her.

Rooster looks up at you with tears in his eyes as he pats your daughter’s head. “It’s going to be quick, sweetheart,” he says gently, trying to console himself just as much as he is trying to soothe her.

Your daughter shakes her head and turns on his lap, burying her face in his chest. Rooster gives you a desperate look, wrapping his arms around the little girl to comfort her. In his big arms, she feels safe and her sniffles grow quieter as her breathing steadies.

“You’ll have to hold her arm down tightly so that she doesn’t move,” the doctor says, approaching the three of you.

Your daughter begins to wail anew, thrashing in Rooster’s embrace. “No!” she screams.

Rooster takes the beating without so much as a wince, looking on at her sympathetically as he tries to unstick her hair from her wet cheeks. “Sweetheart,” he whispers, taking her face in his hands. “I know you’re scared, and that’s okay. Being scared is natural. It’s important to be scared sometimes so that we can avoid danger, right?”

You daughter nods, sniveling.

Rooster smiles at her. “But you trust daddy, right?”

She nods again.

Rooster sighs. “It’s going to be a pinch,” he tells her honestly, in response to which your daughter lets out a whine. “But it won’t last long!” Rooster continues. “Remember that time you fell off your bike and scraped your knee?”

Your daughter bobs her head up and down, crying a little harder.

“It won’t hurt nearly as much as that, okay?”

Your daughter whimpers quietly.

“We’re going to count to five, and then it’ll all be over, okay sweetheart? Will you help me count?”

Your daughter sighs shakily, but her crying has subsided. “I can count to twenty,” she says between sniffles.

Rooster chuckles. “I know, you little smarty pants,” he responds, ruffling her hair. “But the pinch will only last until we count to five. How does that sound?”

Your daughter nods again, then sniffs softly as he turns her back around on his lap.

“I’m going to hold on really tight and I won’t let go, okay?” Rooster mutters in her ear.

“Okay,” she agrees.

“Ready to count?” he asks.

“Ready.”

You smile at your daughter as she looks up at you and hold out your fingers as the two of them begin to count.

“One, two” - somewhere between one and five, your daughter starts to scream, but Rooster holds her tightly and continues counting - “three, four, five.”

“All done!” the doctor says.

Your daughter is crying while Rooster cradles her in his arms. “It’s over, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“That hurt!” your daughter wails.

“I know, baby. I know.” He stands up, holding her firmly to his body. “But you did it! My brave girl, I’m so proud of you!”

Your daughter hugs him back. “That’s it?” she cries. “Is it over?”

“It’s over, princess,” he whispers, blinking back his tears as he kisses the side of her head.

You stroke your husband’s arm as the doctor puts a Band-Aid on your daughter. Rooster looks like he’s about to pass out which is, on the one hand, a little funny considering his profession and the amount of stress he faces on a daily basis, and on the other, making you fall in love with him all over again.

Rooster puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, still holding your daughter at his hip. “You okay?” he asks you gently.

You bite your lip and smile at him. You seem to be handling the situation much better than your husband, and you wonder whether it’s because you feel as though he is suffering enough for the both of you. “I’m okay,” you say. “Are you okay?”

He blinks wearily. “I think I’m okay,” he responds. “I might need a lollipop or something.”

You chuckle as your daughter chimes in, “I want a lollipop!”

“Oh, you definitely deserve a lollipop,” Rooster says happily, waving at the doctor as the three of you exit the office. “You probably deserve some stickers too. Maybe a trip to the toy store?” he says, turning to look at you hopefully.

You daughter starts bouncing in excitement on his arm. “Toy store! Toy store!”

You shake your head with a laugh. “Sure,” you reply.

Rooster lets out a giant sigh as the three of you step outside. “I’m so glad that’s over,” he says.

You smile at him warmly. “You were very brave, too, darling,” you say.

Rooster puts a hand on your daughter’s back to hold her up as he leans over to give you a kiss. “It wasn’t easy,” he mutters against your lips.

You laugh. “Well, I’m proud of you.”

He grins at you. “I probably deserve a treat, too,” he says with a wink.

“Daddy! You’re getting a lollipop!” your daughter reminds him.

Rooster Tag List:

Please feel free to let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in Rooster fics/if you no longer consume Rooster content <3 The rest of the tags are in the comments!

@simp-for-fictional-people

@ollyoxenfrees

@iamabeautifulperson18

@living-in-my-imagination88

@wintercap89

@mavrellover91

@gingerbreadandpaper

@lonelywitchv2

@cashwheelersgirl89

@callsign-jupiter

@kindablackenedsuperhero

@everything-i-love-in-life

@malindacath

@rosiahills22

@wandering-wah

@olliepig

@m1llydins

@emilyniamh3679-blog

@footwatter

@books-for-summer

@harper1666

@coffeeaddictedmay

@diabeticgoth

@katiebby04

@problematic-420

@wishfulhope

@elizabitchsshit

@inarabee

@boringusername3

@zombiedixon89

@izz-ayes-world

@ratedtvpg

@mak-32

@sunnysofia

@a-nostalgic-disaster

@aaliyahjovel

@anyonehaveanyorangeslices

@bcon24

@lovemesomevesey

@daydreamingalways

@gerudolivinliv

@emilybradshaw

@olivethenerd16

@kaitlynw011

@l-rexter45

@xoxo-lyss

@beebslebobs

@dracosluvbot

@peoniarose

@annedub

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toomanyideasandfandoms · 3 months

Text

I actually had random motivation to write a small thing for Death Seeking Creator so here *throws at the wall* I'll post more if I feel inspiration.

Small warning, I tried not to be too explicit with the deaths. But who knows if I succeeded so apologies if you're squeamish with blood and such things.

~~~~~~

It's the same thing every time.

They wake up, a scream tearing from their soul as tears fall down. They could barely taste the bile that threatened to eject from their empty stomach, causing them to wheeze and cough to prevent it. But soon laughter bubbled up, their hands clutched their head as their voice croaked as more and more giggles erupted.

It could barely be recognized as laughter as their hoarse voice screamed and wailed out to the darken clouds as rain pelted their golden scars and tattered cloth. Thunder could be heard as they finally lose their breath, coughing as their body forced them to calm down from their fit of insanity.

As they breathed, their mind could only think back to how they ended up here.

They had chosen to travel through the desert, since that's all they could do when waking up in such a desolate place. They had hoped to come across a group of mercenaries or even scholars that could help them. But instead all they met was the blood red eyes of the character- nay, the person they once cherished and adored.

They couldn't remember his words, only the coldness in his voice as he looked upon them in disgust and animosity. They didn't even have time to process as he grabbed their throat and stole their breath, pinning them onto the hot sand as they stared back up in shock. Then they saw his face morph into unbridled rage, releasing them as if their skin burned his. They didn't have a chance to recover once the spear pierced them.

It's the same thing every time.

They slowly stood, feeling the rain hit their skin as they looked up into the endless sky. Their ears picked up movement from within the forest they now reside in, a wide grin now beginning to rise. They turned to face a familiar pair of glowing eyes, once that held a familiar rage.

“Oh my! It's been awhile Barbat-” They cut off as the arrow flew towards them, hitting its mark.

A scream rips out as they fall onto their knees, clutching onto the arrow piercing their heart. Blood pools out of their mouth, their airways flooding from the liquid.

Laughter bubbles up again, their veins filled with euphoria as they see the black spots in their vision. The rain pours harder, practically leaving marks against their brittle skin. But they couldn't hear it as their own voice drowned out the thunder. Their grin was wide, almost manic as they opened their arms out to the enraged god before them.

“Oh thank you! Thank you for such a wonderful feeling!” They cried out in happiness, babbling at how euphoric their pain feels. Their hands, now gripping onto the arrow, drive it further into their body. They wail as it brings about more pain, tears trailing down their cheeks. Or was it tears? It was impossible to tell for either party because of the rain.

They giggled as they coughed out a small puddle of blood, no longer able to hold it in. The golden color glows warmly against the cold grass, sparkling as if stars had been placed inside it. They laugh louder, babbling about how the lack of air has made them hallucinate, not paying attention to the horror on the face of the god.

They could hear him yell over the rain, feeling his hands now force their face to meet his. They wheezed at his expression, gurgling out words of mocking. Their blood poured out as each word was said, their eyes shining wide. They could feel his hands quickly grab theirs, attempting to rip it away from the arrow, but it only made them rip said object out. More blood pooled around them as they cried out from the pain.

They couldn't breath, their wide grin softening into a small smile as the darkness finally took hold. They paid no mind to the screaming from the god, nor his words of pain.

Thunder boomed as they went limp in the now weeping god's arms.

It's the same fucking thing every time.

#sagau #genshin sagau #death seeking creator #cw death #cw blood #sagau x reader

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dollsuguru · 3 months

Note

Hello! You can totally ignore if this isn’t up your alley but you could write something about suguru watching reader from afar while they grieve him for leaving? Either it’s super sad or twisted cause he feels happy that you love him enough to grieve him

I also could send in nsfw requests if you want those too

“the choiceless grief that drove him underground.”

contents: f!reader, mentions of guilt, stalking, & mass murder. both characters express grief in different ways. bit of callous/twisted suguru, a nod to his dacryphilia as well. mainly angsty but i guess at the core of it… it’s sweet? w.c: ~ 1.4k

a/n: rem, i owe you my life & then some! :’) thank you SO much for the concept idea! <3 i love delving into the twisted/not-so pretty parts of suguru so i hope you enjoy! :D

the premise of the situation is quite… haunting.

to mourn a friend, (‘a lover’ — his voice gently admonishes from the back of your mind), who isn’t dead.

he still roams around the aether — akin to a ghost. and here you are, grieving a corporeal phantom of your past.

both you and suguru have a penchant for nostalgia, him moreso than you. it’s why he’s here now at the foothills of mount mushiro, camouflaging himself into the shadows of the night, depleting his own cursed energy so there’s not a single trace of him left. he stands there in a vantage point hidden behind massive japanese oak trees, a lonely specter peering wistfully at his dearly beloved.

ex-beloved, rather, he should say.

it was of his own volition anyways.

your lack of cursed energy leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he remembers why he despises you so. the healed x-shaped scar on his chest burns and he wants to give you a matching one on your heart, as a reminder. you’re worse than a curse, he forces himself to seethe. heavenly restriction, huh? nothing heavenly about you…

a sick part of suguru wants to finally see you shatter — to watch someone as powerful as you break down and wail with such unbridled anguish, to hear your sorrowful screams pierce through the night sky like a gunshot wound to the head. something about imagining the way your tears would stick to your lashes makes his heart beat unbearably fast from within his ribcage. from sadness or intrigue, he doesn’t quite know…

he just selfishly craves to be the cause of it. to have you drown in tears of melancholy & be sundered by it like a tsunami of eerie desolation — to be plagued with devotion and corruption. just like him.

he wants you to get on your hands and knees and prostrate yourself to him — to lower yourself at his feet.

beneath him.

where you should be.

to apologize for being you. to apologize for coming into his life. to apologize for making him fall in love. to apologize for being his greatest curse. his greatest regret.

(regret for loving you or regret for leaving you… he’s not sure, yet. he’ll decide when he’s of more sound mind.)

yet all he gets is… just you… sitting there. expressionless.

suguru huffs quietly, his low-lidded gaze is heavy with fatigue and slight boredom. his soft exhales turn into smoky vapor in front of him, evaporating within seconds. he tediously redirects his amber irises back at you, observing you like a science experiment, scrutinizing your every move… only if you had done something, of course.

he notes that your stony face betrays no emotions, your body is rigid as if in living rigor-mortis. he surmises that the only thing that differentiates you from the zen statues around you is the gentle wisps of your hair across your face courtesy of the cold wind, crisp due to the night air.

before he realizes it, suguru’s fingers involuntarily twitch.

muscle memory.

(the same fingers have brushed against the plush of your cheek, caressed your hair & gently moved the strands away from your face. soft finger-pads outlined your lips gently, the shape of your cupid’s bow committed to memory. suguru figured the name was quite apt… he found himself wholly enraptured & in love.

hit by eros’ arrow the very moment he laid eyes on you — his lighthouse. his demise.)

a slight sniffle breaks suguru out of his reverie. he snaps his head back up at you, pierced brows furrowed and bright ochre eyes wide. he ignores the pang in his chest, his shock overtaking his senses leaving him paralyzed.

are you…?

your reddened eyes flit towards the foliage where suguru hides behind, and you softly rasp out a tired sigh. your lack of words are far more frigid than the midnight air, causing an ice cold shiver to run through suguru’s spine.

forcing the constriction in his throat back down, he exhales shakily, in a state of utter shock.

right.

heightened senses. superhuman physical capabilities. you always knew where suguru was before he ever knew where you were. a relationship of mutual indulgence — you pretend you don’t see him, and he pretends that you don’t know where he is at all times. as if you haven’t memorized his scent, his mannerisms, his soul. as if you couldn’t recognize him through physical vibrations alone.

just pretend you don’t see me now… indulge me one last time… please.

muscle memory.

you look away.

you focus your gaze towards the skyline of bountiful forest green trees, impeccable eyesight zeroing in on a tree with a heart carved around both his and your initials upon the espresso bark. the same tree where you had rested your head on suguru’s lap while he read his favorite books to you. the same tree where you had both shared your first kiss. the same tree where you had found out from a dear friend that suguru had murdered a whole village — some bullshit about him wanting to create a world with no curses. no non-sorcerers. no you.

you once playfully joked to suguru that you loved him more than he loved you. you remember the way his fists clenched at his sides, the furrow in his brow coupled with the immediate narrowing of his eyes, along with the slight snarl in his lip and voice pierced your soul as he resolutely scolded you — no one could ever love as deeply, as passionately, as genuinely as he loves you.

loved, rather, you should say.

what a fuckin’ liar.

…

in a blink of an eye, you disappear.

like a ghost.

you leave suguru alone to his own futile devices. he figures it’s fair, to indulge you one last time too, allowing you the ‘last laugh’, though he knows there’s no victors in this sick game that’s being played. he’s walked away from you before, it’s only fitting you do the same to him now.

his feet drag him to where you were hunched over before, his brain unable to catch up to what his body is doing. something glints in the moonlight, there in your stead, atop the plush green grass.

he crouches down, picking up the small photograph. the faded polaroid feels far heavier in his hand than he would think. a delicious shiver runs down suguru’s spine when he realizes his fingertips are touching where yours have touched. the bitterness that found its way in his mouth in the beginning washes away, leaving only a sickly sweet flavor that surrounds his mouth like pillowy cotton candy.

it’s one he hasn’t seen. you must’ve kept this with you all this time, he muses.

a photo, a candid, of him.

the pink sakura petals offered up a beautiful backdrop after a mission you two took in kyoto. back then, his smile was genuine & unbelievably wide — pearly whites on display, his pierced cherry red lips matched the camellia red blush that painted his cheeks — no doubt from your flirtatious comments about his beauty. his eyes were squinted, a photo you took of him while mid-laugh. he pushed his bangs aside while speaking to you, wanting to give you his full attention. the promise ring on his finger glinted in the sunlight along with the silver hairpin you gifted him moments before you took the photo, its amethyst gem dangling above his bun. a beacon of light.

a sign of devotion, of unending love. a promise.

suguru’s heart feels a bit heavier than he would like it to, yet the soft smile that graces his features is the most genuine form of adoration he’s exhibited since his defection. inundated with grief, you still held on to him.

an anchor of your past. a plague of your present. a welcoming calamity of your future.

“you still love me too, huh?” he softly whispers into the night, a sad smile on his face.

he gazes up at the moon. it looks quite beautiful tonight. he silently hopes you’re staring at it too.

thinking of him the same way he’s thinking of you.

#geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #if it’s in a jjk au TRUST my readers will ALWAYS have heavenly restriction… it’s just so delicious coupled w suguru’s character arc #my writings #personal

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jaehymrk · 3 months

Text

low tolerance, you say

trent alexander arnold x fem!reader. fluff. Being drunk with fruitful intentions.

One thing Trent realized while dating you was to literally not put alcohol and you at the same place, at the same time. But, not many people know that aspect since you and Trent do not go out often, staying home in each other's presence.

Many people not knowing your low alcohol tolerance is absolute shit is what made Trent's job hard tonight. After picking up your call, he became more alert noticing it was not your angelic voice; rather greeted with a huskier male tone but was relaxed immediately as the person from the other line claimed, "She had way too many drinks to handle, but if the address is right. We are outside your house. Please take her away from me."

Every fiber in Trent's bone eased up. Rushing down wearing his flip-flops, frantically opens the door to see your male friend followed by three other girlfriends move you out of the car. His eyes darted on your fragile limping drunk legs almost giving out, Trent could not help but chuckle at your friends trying to keep you well.

"My boyfriend is here." You screamed loud, your eyes squeezed your eyes to scan your boyfriend coming out from his front yard to pick you away from the world for the night. Trent walked toward you, but you ran behind your friend's car.

You sat down on the road, hiding your face on your lap. Trent glanced at your friends in question since some of your drunk actions are still concerning and confusing. He is not surprised, just picking up pieces real quick.

With no words exchanged, Trent walked behind your friend's car where you were crotched down hiding your face. He bent down on his knees to meet your eye level. "What's wrong, baby?" He whispered in the shell of your ears, his fingers slowly cupping your face to glance up at him.

"You are not angry at me?" You tilted your head, clenching his hand which was settled on your face. Trent stared at your eyes slowly shutting themselves before you shook yourself up. His nose wrinkled to force himself from laughing at your drunk gesture.

He shook his head, "Never, princess. Come, let's go home." Trent gently lifted you from the ground. With his single action, you enveloped your body securing your arm around his neck. Trent silently thanked your friends for dropping you off. You shifted your head safely on the arc of his neck, eyeing your friends. "I love you guys, thank you for tonight." You waved your hand.

Trent laid you down on the sofa. For you, the whole world was spinning. It was even worse than the roller coasters you enjoyed back in some of those expensive amusement park. This cycle was endless, even if your body knows you are home, your eyes and mind are not helping at all.

"Trent, are we sure we are back home?" You asked with your eyebrows furrowed. Your hand waved around but was beaten around by the air, not being able to hold Trent. With no answers returned, you took matters on your own hand.

Standing on your own feet to only fall back on the sofa. Your legs had given out all the energy. In the spinning world, you had resulted that Trent was just a hallucination. With that, you wailed loudly, eyes shut as tears sprinkled down your cheek.

You covered your eyes with your forearm, thinking you are alone in this whole world and the person you love, is not even real. It was just a fragment of your imagination. In between your thoughts and your sobs, you paused. Wait, you thought, Was I not drunk? You removed your forearm away from your eyes, soaking in the cozy and humbling living room in front of you.

Before you could process everything, the face of the man, you swore you dreamt of popped in front of you. "You are real?" You whispered, your fingertips reaching out to draw out his face.

Sun-kissed skin, doe-eyes, and the perfect plumped lips you wish you could ju-

"Please stop eye-fucking me."

He also speaks. "Yes, I speak." He spoke, shaking his head, pulling you forward to sit on the sofa. Trent sat in front of you carrying your makeup remover, a few clothes to change, and a blanket.

"So you are my boyfriend?" You hesitated to ask, not sure how you bagged a hot scrumptious-looking boyfriend. Trent leaned on his knee, using his elbow as leverage to stare at your drunk swollen eyes and pink lips that has been abused too many times by you with the continous biting.

Trent nodded, "We have done way too many times, princess. For now, please do as I say." You raised your eyebrows, and a line formed between your eyebrows in question. You gave him a lopsided smile, "So how do you want me?"

"On your back."

You froze. Being drunk does not mean you did not understand the intention of his words. Trent snorted cockily, "Are you serious? Let me remove your makeup." He asked, waving his hand and gesturing you to lay down on the sofa so he could remove your makeup.

So lying down on the sofa, you did. Trent sat on the edge of the sofa near your arm as he leaned forward to press the wet wipes onto your face, forcefully closing your eyes after every aggressive wipe.

In silence, Trent removed your makeup. Giving you enough time to admire his face closer once again. Up close, he . . seemed so familiar. All the small freckles that are not spoken about, the light wrinkle settled on his forehead, and the vein that pops out on his temple. With it all, Trent was simply so beautiful.

"We should definitely have babies." You said breaking the silence. Trent paused his action with his third use of makeup remover wet wipes. He lazily smiled, grinning ear-to-ear. You glanced upward to the ceiling as the tension was peaking its roof.

Trent clicked his tongue, "I don't know. Don't you think we should get married first?" He proposed, his eyes twinkling with the hint of mischievousness but your mind was too hazy to process through what he was saying.

"Then why are we not married yet?" You curiously asked, your arm finding its way to his neck pulling him closer to your face. "Or we can just do everything the opposite. I heard there are many people who do that." You justified your reason on wanting kids, slurping on your own words.

Trent giggled hiding his face on the nape of your neck at your utter misery and cuteness. He had the urge to pull his phone and record the amount of random crap was coming out; it is the same routine when you are drunk.

"I am serious though." You softly laid down your guards. With mind intoxicated and eyes about to give out to the lights. But this, you know, Trent was the man you want your kids grow up calling father; it is not a dream so hard to not want considering how dearly Trent is to you.

He removed his face away from your neck, coming face-to-face. "Baby, you are drunk and we have spoke about wanting kids and getting married like hundreds of times when you are drunk." He confessed trying to retrieve back to his original position to finish off your leftover makeup.

You pulled him forward caging him in your arm. "Then ask me tomorrow morning when I am completely sober if I still want to have your kids, Trent. I will say yes." You dared, eyes not fazing away from Trent.

Your eyes glanced down at his lips, "And I swear if you stop me from doing this, I will say no." You threatened before pressing your lips against his. You moaned loudly in his lips pulling him closer. Trent moved to straddle his legs as his hand shifted under your shirt.

Your hand itself tangled to pull his sweater off his body. He tsked away, continously shaking his head. "Let's do this tomorrow, baby. Let's go back to bed." He insisted only for you to shake your head whining, already missing his lips on you.

"We can only stop this operation if i accidentally vomit."

"What operation?"

You shrugged your shoulder, "To have your kids."

#jaehymrkwrites #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagines #trent alexander arnold scenarios #trent alexander arnold x you #trent alexander arnold fic

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nctstar · 7 months

Note

idk if u write for tbz but if u do can i request haechan and sunwoo smut pls! if not gamer! hyuck and renjun would b great ILYYY

hi! this is so late I'm sorry :( I don't write for tbz! but definitely for nct. I tried my best with the gamer aspects but I am not a gamer so...ANYWAY I tried my best, what can I sayyy :D hope you like ily too <3

do i seem familiar?

The softness of his lips erupted on your mouth, shutting your eyes, letting him taste you. He slipped his tongue inside, and you gasped. Pulling away, you wanted to whine, beg, anything to taste him again. He brought one hand to your face, stroking the side of your jaw. “What’s your name?”

“_.” Your brain was yelling at you to stop, but you couldn’t help yourself. You leant it, letting your lips passively feel his. “It’s _.”

“Good girl.” That alone would have made your knees fall apart, but you stiffened, sighing gently. “I want to know what name I need to be moaning tonight.”

pairing: hyuckren x fem!reader (no hyuckren ship)

other members: none

word count: 5k

genre: SMUT bro what can i say

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! reader is a streamer/cam girl, reader and hyuckren speak in korean and english throughout and sometimes don't understand each other but everything is consensual! mention of breasts multiple times, threesome, breastplay, use of whore and slut, profanity, degradation (not too crazy), dom!hyuckren, bit of thigh slapping, fingering, squirting, being held down + manhandled, begging. oral (male receiving), praise kink, intense orgasms, double penetration, rough sex, crying during and after sex, tiny bit of overstimulation (not really), finishing inside, kissing, alluding to aftercare at the end (very important!)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic.

a/n: lowkey i think all my smuts are a little bit similar to each other haha. ALSOO the italics in quotations are things said in korean, and non-italics is english, hope that's not confusing.

y_3to3: you look so pretty today baby <3

A flood of messages inundated your screen, aggressively drowning out the simplicity of the one that had caught your eye. Much like a passing quiet comment as you walked down the street, or even less – a whisper of a thought, someone who knew too much, or not at all, the thought begging to be heard.

Your face felt hot under the mask, your eyes threatening to water at the light radiating off your many monitors. The red dot blinked, one, two, matching your heartbeat. Camera on.

“Thank you!” You responded as you fixed your top, a skimpy strappy corset top, your chest bursting at the seams as the old push-up bra did its work. You were suddenly nervous, as if he could really see you. Past all the screens, the messages flooding into your inbox, the red, blinking light.

You wondered what the other men would think knowing you and y_3to3 had met. Would they cry? Wail? Beg on their hands and knees in front of you – in front of him? Would they get aggressive? You hadn’t really thought of that. His handsome demeanour, your soft skin, the way your body just melted under the heat of his body…it was not something you could resist by thinking logically.

“No game today, guys. It’s Halloween! I thought we could just chat for a while!” You fought the urge to itch the strap underneath your right armpit, becoming more and more aware of how uncomfortable the bra was. Smiling through it all, you continued. “Uh, can anyone guess who I am?”

The messages didn’t stop coming, but nobody was answering.

You coughed awkwardly, readjusting yourself in your chair, sneaking glances in the mirror behind your camera to check what you were showing off. Damn, you thought, seeing your boobs pushed together, the pouty pink lips and the doe eyes staring back at you, I look like a whore.

New member. The notification caught your eye. No one had really added themselves mid-stream in a while now, not anybody new, at least.

“Hey, welcome!” Your voice came out hesitant, the same paranoia that always overtook you filling your senses. What if it was your mom, or your boss?

You gulped, but there was a message waiting for you within seconds.

해찬: 마스크걸?

Shit. You didn’t know how to read Korean, only learning how to speak bits and pieces here and there.

“Uh…” You were nervous, not wanting to make a fool of yourself, but also having this sudden urge to accommodate the stranger that had dominated all of a sudden. “My Korean is not great. And I can’t read. But, thank you.” You cringed at the sound of your own voice, and almost wanted to end the stream right then and there. But then, they replied.

해찬: you speak very good.

A weird warmth spread your stomach, and you couldn’t help yourself. “Thank you, uh, I’m not sure…oh gosh, I guess I have to Google Translate your username! That’s embarrassing.”

해찬: my name is hae-chan.

“Oh, n-nice, nice to meet you.” His forwardness took you off guard, mainly being used to men who had never spoken to a woman in real life joining your chat, timidly hiding in the shadows until they got a glimpse of cleavage and couldn’t hold it in anymore. You gave a small smile, one that would please everyone, but also hide something extra for the people you liked and wanted.

y_3to3: he said you’re mask girl. it’s pretty obvious.

y_3to3: you don’t need google translate. i can do it for you. and more. if you want.

Your heart pounded, suddenly quietened by this virtual conversation. Your eyes read the letters over and over again, until the texts rose on the screen.

해찬: yeah, so can i. i just thought she could read korean. my bad.

Your head swam, not knowing how to process all this. One had itched to turn your camera off, suddenly feeling really vulnerable and exposed. That blinking red light kept relenting in the background.

You clapped your hands together. “Guys, it’s kinda getting late! You guys need your sleep, and so does your Mask Girl!” You ignored the men who moaned and groaned at it being only 11pm, and how you didn’t even dance for them tonight, or spill water down your shirt. “Until next time, okay? Stay safe, everyone!” Your voice felt too perky, like it was out of a Black Mirror episode, unsettling and uncanny.

The red, blinking light went off, and you sighed. A million thoughts entered your brain, but they were all immersed in the fog of tiredness that took over your body. Legs moving at their own accord, you stumbled over to your bed, ripping the mask off in the process. As your stomach pushed up on the already too-tight top, you felt breathless as you lay at the foot off your bed, but you closed your eyes, listening to your muscles screaming for rest. “Renjun, his name was Renjun, I think…” You whispered, feeling a little crazy, a little like a witch or a little girl trying to manifest the attention of their crush they looked at for 2 seconds. He hadn’t taken his mask off, but you had felt him anyways. Inches sheathed inside you, thrusting in time with your moans. “Fuck.” How could you want someone that bad? Is this what those lonely men in your dms felt like?

Nevertheless, the memory of the smell of expensive cologne, hands roaming limitlessly on your uncovered body, dragon-like eyes watching you as you fell apart – all of it let you dream restlessly, your body twisted uncomfortably on your bed, your computer droning in the background and the makeup remaining untouched on your face, skincare be damned.

∞

You hadn’t seen his face before today, and you kind of hated yourself for agreeing to meet him again. He was mask-less, and you quickly realised he had a face sculpted by divine forces themselves, sharp, meticulous, perfect. Enough to ruin your life in a heartbeat.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Renjun? I-I’m sorry if I’m not pronouncing that right.”

He nodded silently, and you fought the urge to hold your breath, his skin shone even under the crappy lighting of the PC bang. An awkward silence ensued as your brain scrambled for the right words, not only to say but the ones that would be grammatically correct in Korean. “Thanks for inviting me here. Should we find a place now?”

“Are you hungry?” His eyes searched yours, and you felt the pull you had that night at that hotel room, last night as you read the message, he had boldly hit send on for the world to see.

“No.” You shook your head, trying not to smile in an off-putting way. You prayed he hadn’t noticed the pimple on your face, and your anxiety made sure you were thinking about the fact that you had done your makeup differently every second since you had left the house. It looks good. On camera. Not in person. You kinda look like a slut. But in a good way? Too much blush. Should have worn lashes. Should have worn makeup like the day he felt compelled to take you to a hotel and f-

“I brought my friend. Do you mind?” He looked nervous now, or maybe he was nervous the whole time? You weren’t sure. As you thought of other things, you didn’t process the fact that he had asked you a question.

“Is this her?” You could have sworn you had heard a voice, but Renjun didn’t react to it, and you wondered if it was another voice in your head. “That’s okay, right? Or if you don’t want him here-“

“Him?” Another person was definitely a little unexpected. But you swallowed the little shock you had and tried to reply normally. It’s not that bad. It won’t be awkward. At least he didn’t say she – HAH!

“No, I mean, that’s okay!” Your voice was started to travel upwards to an obnoxiously high pitch, and you willed it down again. “Is he here?”

“Renjun-ah, I already found a place for the two of us. You didn’t tell me she was-oh.” The unidentified voice stopped as soon as the man stood in your line of sight. The first thing you did was use all of your willpower to prevent your jaw muscles slackening and letting your mouth drop wide open.

Holy fuck. He is so hot.

“Donghyuck.” He nodded so slightly it could have easily been missed. Your brain on overdrive at the sight of two of the hottest men you had ever encountered in front of you made you momentarily mute, and it was like Donghyuck picked up on that. Smirking, he looked down, muttering cute.

Oh my god, what is happening right now…

“This is my friend…maybe we better sit down somewhere else?” You nodded, forcing yourself to hum in response so it didn’t seem like you had gone brainless suddenly. You tried to contribute to the visual search, looking around, but your ears heated up at the realisation that Donghyuck was staring you up and down. His black rimmed eyes, whether from makeup or lack of sleep, danced across your body before resting on your facial features, making your stomach start doing backflips. You pointed at an empty row, desperate now to sit down. “There. That works, right?”

“Sure.” The English rolled off Donghyuck’s tongue in a way that indicated it wasn’t his first language, but he was oozing with confidence regardless. You finally met his gaze, fire erupting in your throat as he smirked directly at you.

Minutes later, for some reason, you were seated in the middle of them – Renjun on your right, Donghyuck on your left. The nerves were being pushed aside with a sort of familiar comfort as the game, one you had played multiple times on stream, one you were famously good at, started up. Colours flickered across your shiny eyes as you stared, unblinking.

When you started playing, you might as well have forgotten about the last twenty minutes of your life. Your fingers sprung across the keys, words erupting out of your mouth without permission. At one point, Donghyuck’s character and yours fought for an entire five minutes, both of you getting so close to finishing before swapping over, going at it repeatedly (that’s what she said). At the last minute, you prevailed. You heard him curse loudly as the character fell to the ground, red blinking letters taunting him, filling his screen. “Oh, she’s good.”

“Mmm, she is.” The emotions that had raced through your body moments ago was fighting this newfound adrenaline in your system, and you wondered what to say next. What to do next. Your hands were getting clammy, cold. Your right leg bounced on the seat.

“Again?” You turned to Donghyuck, unaware of the confidence that was taking over. He glanced at you before returning to his screen, rebooting the game. You were getting ready to turn back around, face your screen, when he said,

“Were you mask girl on camera last night?”

It’s like you could feel Renjun’s eyes widen. You were shocked, hairs rising on end. The anonymity that came with your job shattered with dangerous intent, and you tried to shake your head, to deny it. You were never a great liar.

“We hooked up once, Donghyuck. It’s not what you think.” The words pierced you, and you were frozen in place, like someone just superglued you to your seat.

“That’s not what I was saying- Look. Renjun told me what you do. And, you kinda remind me of the girl I saw last night.”

So any girl with tits is a cam girl to you? You wanted to say, but the language barrier and the decency that comes with being in a public place stopped you. And what if I am? Why are you asking me this?

“Why are you saying stuff like this?”

“No, I-“

“Donghyuck.” Renjun’s voice came as a warning, but that was when you noticed Donghyuck’s name on the screen, unapologetically butting into the conversation.

해찬

“Oh my god.” Both men appeared concerned, stopping their bickering. You felt one hand rest on your thigh gently, tentatively. “Sorry, are you-“

“You’re Haechan?” You turned to Donghyuck, and he nodded carefully, dark eyes locked into yours, blank, unassuming. Your stomach swirled with the remnants of the thin instant coffee you had swallowed minutes ago, Renjun’s hand on your thigh stilling your bouncing leg. “I just, well, I didn’t expect-“

“It was, um, accident. I’m not like other men.” You fought the urge to snicker at his endearing broken English, sounding completely like an incel but not intending too. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I was just curious. And Renjun told me he had met a cam girl, and, well, it kind of just made sense in the moment.”

You nodded, not sure how to react. You watched as Donghyuck’s hands flew as he spoke, his lips curled in, almost pouting, his features turning almost cartoonishly apologetic. It was so adorable, a stark contrast to the intensity of his eyes, the sharp edges of the hair that grazed his eyebrows.

Renjun sighed loudly, and you felt the warmth leave the middle of your thigh as he removed his hand from your body. He cursed silently, rubbing at his temples. “Sorry if this made you uncomfortable.”

“N-no, no,” You tried to be reassuring, but your voice shook, not for the reasons they had thought originally though. Here you were, your secrets out, quite literally in the middle of two men you had met in person that you weren’t sure if they were thinking the same thing as you – you needed them so bad – the hypersexual nature of your side hustle now glaringly obvious, threatening to break the taboos of a normal interaction. You shuffled in your seat, right leg itching to rest over your left. “It’s okay, um. You guys seem nice enough. Shall we get something to eat after this?”

One thing had led to another. One instance of Donghyuck swiping his card before you could even flick yours out. Let me. Renjun picking up a dessert you had said you liked in your streams maybe once. Them gesturing at your nose, realising the whipped cream had rubbed off. You licking your fingers with satisfaction underneath the white flickering lights of the convenience store. Tastes so good, wow. Donghyuck’s fingers grazing your hips as he pushed past you to open the door for you and Renjun. You pretending not to notice that Renjun was staring at your top, hoodie off to expose the crop you usually only wear at home, feeling embarrassed that there was a stain on the right arm. Wondering if he thought you were unkempt, unorganised. Wondering if that was a turn off…

“Wow, nice building.” Donghyuck’s hair shone as you looked back at him, your Hello Kitty bag slung over one of his forearms. You pressed your lips together, feeling a little vulnerable, maybe even a little scared. “Yeah, I get good money from, well. Maybe I should just quit my job!” Renjun laughed, but Donghyuck was silent, perhaps from not understanding, perhaps thinking about something else. You weren’t sure.

“Um, I don’t really have a dining room,” Your voice trailed off as you looked at the mess in your little kitchenette, the lack of a sofa or coffee table imminent in the blankness of the room. “Been kind of busy, didn’t really have time to…” You were more or less lying, more or less talking to yourself, forgetting that English was probably not the best language to explain things in right now. You nodded at no one in particular, before pointing at your bedroom door. “Should we…?”

Renjun had laughed audibly when stepping into your room, Donghyuck muttering cute once again but just a bit louder this time. You chuckled weakly, but your face started to burn, embarrassment leaking into your veins like a potent poison. The plushies and Sanrio merch made you feel more exposed than ever, and your eyes widened when you noticed your favourite orange dildo resting on the bed, as shameless as a naked lover waiting for you after a long day at work. “Uh, okay, um,” You began to babble, trying to quickly shove away the apparatus and praying it would grow legs and run away while they weren’t looking. “You can sit here.”

You bounced on the bed as the two men perched themselves next to you, you in the middle again. The plastic bags filled with random knick-knacks Donghyuck had swore you wanted crinkled as he bent over, tying a knot at the top. “You alright? You seem…nervous.” His nonchalant concern made you want to melt, want to lean over and start making out with him. What did you want, really? Why did you invite them here?

“Are you waiting for something?” Renjun’s breath tickled your ear, surprising you. You turned to face him. His scent the same as that night. Leaning over, his eyes darted back and forth from your lips to your eyes.

“_.” Your brain was yelling at you to stop, but you couldn’t help yourself. You leant it, letting your lips passively feel his. “It’s _.”

“Good girl.” That alone would have made your knees fall apart, but you stiffened, sighing gently. “I want to know what name I need to be moaning tonight.”

As if on cue, you felt one arm wrap around your middle, knee nudging your legs apart. You tried to whip your head around, but Renjun stopped you, pressing down on your forehead so your head rested on the back on Donghyuck’s upper shoulders. You whimpered. “Donghyuck…”

“Shh, it’s okay. I got you.” You both adjusted so you were perched on his lap now, staring at Renjun, eyes wide in anticipation. You felt Donghyuck’s hard-on press into the ridge of your lower back. Stifling a moan, you tried to slip up and down his lap, but felt a hard slap on your thigh when you did, your actions failing to go unnoticed.

“Whore.” You whimpered, feeling Donghyuck nibble on your ear, relentlessly but also with a slight care, as if tending to an animal at flight risk. “Take your top off, if you want this.”

If you want this. His words swam in your ears, and both men paused, waiting for you to act. The tension in the air was thick, but also, you realised, fragile, like a bubble of lust that would pop with the right words, if you didn’t consent. They would definitely leave. They would never mention it again.

But you shrugged off Donghyuck’s arms around you, almost drooling at the veins, the muscles that bulged even as he let go. You pulled your top off, one hand behind your back to unclip your bra. You could feel the surprise, the shock, before Renjun latched onto one of your nipples, your back arching and Donghyuck pulling you flush against him again. “O-oh…”

“You think you can cum just like this? Filthy girl.” You weren’t really sure what exactly he was talking about, but you understood cum and whore, and you shook your head. “Want more, pl-, ah, Renjun-ah!” He started leaving love bites down the middle of your chest, another hand flicking your other nipple. You squirmed. “Please, please…”

“Showing off her rack to any man who wants it, Donghyuck-ah, did you know?” You did understand that, and your eyes watered at the humiliation, simultaneously feeling yourself get wetter as you did. “Fuck, I bet she gets off on it.”

You shook your head, but you were moaning too, which didn’t really help your case. “Please, wanna cum, please, no more-“ You tried pushing Renjun’s head off you, to which he obliged, silencing you with a kiss instead. “Tell us what you want. Come on. Otherwise I’ll leave. We’ll leave.” Donghyuck wiped your tears with his free hand, making you suddenly melt deeper into his body, into his strong arms. You breathed in deeply, your bare chest rising and falling. “Mmm, I want, um, I want your fingers, please.”

“Like this?” Renjun buried one hand inside your pants, and you took it as a sign to lose them, the both of you awkwardly shaking them off. He pulled your panties down just enough before pressing his index finger onto your clit, swirling around, making your thighs tremble. “More, please, i-inside!” Your voice rose as he inserted one inside you without warning, your fluids now gushing out, exposing you. You felt Donghyuck move his head over your shoulder, to watch you, you thought. The thought was enough to feed the humiliation even more, not even registering Donghyuck slapping at your thigh repeatedly as you watched your hole constrict around Renjun’s fingers. Moaning, you tried to move your leg away, panties now sliding off your calves and onto the floor. Donghyuck tutted, wrapping his arm underneath your thigh to push it closer to your chest. “Rest your leg on his shoulder for me. Quickly.” You complied, submission clouding your senses. The new angle allowed Renjun fingers to travel deeper, curling near that spongy part that always made you reach your climax when you pressed your dildo against it. The warmth and spontaneity of real fingers was making you shake uncontrollably, tears springing to your eyes. “Oh, haah, fuck! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!” You sobbed, whining and trying to scramble away as Donghyuck pressed your thigh to your chest tighter, groaning in your ear as he watched you squirt all over Renjun’s fingers, damp spots sprouting on his pants as you did.

Your eyes were ringing, spots clouding your vision. You babbled incoherently, trying to catch your breath. Renjun pressed a kiss to your forehead, then to your nose. “You okay?”

“Mmm.” you managed to make out, wiping your tears. “Wow, that was…really good.”

“Open.” Renjun pressed his fingers to your lips, allowing you to suck the ends, tasting yourself. Donghyuck’s chest vibrated as he hummed in satisfaction. “Fuck, you think you can suck me like that, baby?”

You nodded, pathetically, like a bimbo, holding your boobs as you scrambled towards the floor. You heard Renjun groan and unzip his pants as your knees scraped the carpet, and you flipped your hair over one shoulder, hands pulling at the waistband of Donghyuck’s pants. He leant back, spreading his knees further apart so you could inch closer to him, one hand sneaking up and feeling the ridges on his stomach. “Eager slut.”

The bulb sprung out, meeting your lips, and you teased his slit carefully, batting your eyes up at him in a way you thought he would like. He raised one eyebrow, but you could tell he was flustered from the way his ears burned red. “You can tease me, but don’t cry later when I do the same to you.” You giggled, wrapping both hands around his thick length. Wondering how it would feel nestled all the way inside you, whether you would be able to feel it in your stomach.

As soon as you opened your mouth, planning to suck the tip first, salty precum already pre-erupting in your mouth, you felt something hard press against your now exposed, soaking core. On instinct, you tried to straighten up through your back, but Donghyuck gripped the back of your head instantly, keeping your face close to his leaking cock. “No. You stay here.”

“Renjun-ah…” A sharp inhale as you felt him push inside, warm and so tight, the inside of your thighs now completely wet. You began to moan, mouth open, letting Donghyuck push you on his cock, shutting you up immediately.

Renjun groaned, throat constricting with every word he spoke. “Take me so well every time. Fuck. So good.” Your moans disappearing, morphing into lewd choking noises as Donghyuck held you in place. Your eyes pleaded with him, and he released you, sending you flying backwards, coughing up a mix of saliva and his precum. He gripped your chin, watching your glossy eyes stare back at him. “Don’t do anything. Don’t even think, baby. This is what you need.” You could only moan in response as Renjun gripped your hips, body flopping down as he began to thrust into you faster and faster. The way your walls constricted around him was orgasmic, nails scratching at the carpet as if it would help you anchor your body. “Fuck, yes, oh my god…” Your moans turned into cries, and you felt your impending climax overpower your body. “Please, nggh, so much…” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling yourself lose control over your body.

Renjun pulled your hair so you were forced to look up. You squealed, chanting his name like a mantra. “Should I fill you up, baby?” You could only cry in response, core twitching without permission. Donghyuck brought his cock to your mouth again, cock prying your mouth open as you let your jaw slacken. Fully hard now, you gagged noisily. Renjun whispered praises in your ear as Donghyuck thrusted into your mouth, tears streaming down your face at the impact. “Good girl. Go ahead, cum for me. Cum for us.” You felt yourself fall apart, muscles paralysing as you came. Not long after, Donghyuck shot ropes of cum down your throat, swearing as he did. “You gonna swallow, baby?” No energy to nod, you brought one hand to stroke the back of his thigh, knees now sore against the rough carpet. As Renjun pulled out, you squeezed your thighs together, not letting anything leak onto the carpet. Donghyuck helped you up once you released him, carrying you bridal style to the bed, lips meeting yours once your back hit the mattress. “H-Hyuckie…”

“Oh fuck, baby. That’s such a pretty nickname. You wanna keep calling me that?” His eyes were roaming down your now naked body, your lower stomach glistening with fluids. He separated your folds with his fingers as you snapped your legs against his hand. He laughed as you shook your head desperately. “Fuck, wait, I’m sensitive! Wait a second…” Chest heaving, you watched as Renjun walked over to the bed, the outlines of his body now blurry from the tears and post-orgasmic bliss. “How are you guys hard again?”

Donghyuck responded by noisily kissing down your body. Unlike Renjun, he was sloppier, softer, more desperate. You craned your neck to watch him, feeling like you were having an out of body experience. Post two intense orgasms, every nerve in your body felt like it was singed at the ends. Yet, you wanted more. Your hips bucked up involuntarily, making you blush. Renjun pressed his thumb on your bottom lip, signalling for you to open your mouth. “You wanna taste my cock too?”

“Yeah…yes, please, I think…” Renjun laughed this time, stroking his length to its full hardness before pressing the head against your lips. At the same time, Donghyuck tapped your inner thighs, and, like a secret reflex, you let your knees relax apart, hips opening. You felt something unmistakably heavy rest on your exposed pussy, and you looked down to see Donghyuck’s rubbing himself up and down your folds. “Hnghh, Hyuck, oh, will it f-fit?” He looked at you with confusion, suddenly realising you had changed languages. Before you could answer, Renjun grabbed your chin and pushed his hips, letting his cock slip past your lips and fill your mouth. “Shhh. It’ll fit. Don’t you worry.”

“Fuck, noisy girl.” Your moans were vibrating around Renjun’s cock, making him thrust sloppily and deeply, one hand holding your head in place. You closed your eyes, feeling yourself getting filled to the brim, a feeling your tiny dildo could never come close to giving you. “Renjun-ah, she’s gripping me so tight. Fuck. We found ourselves a perfect little whore.” Talking about you as if you weren’t even there, mouth occupied, unable to speak, added to the humiliation tenfold and embarrassingly made you hornier than ever. As Donghyuck sped up his thrusts, the sounds of messy sex filled the room, riling up Renjun even more. Drool ran as far down to your breasts as he thrusted, one of your hands now gripping your boob for support. “You want me to cum all over those pretty tits? Hmm?” You nodded as much as you could with the little space you had, the visual of that almost sending you over the edge.

Donghyuck pressed one finger to your clit, making you slap Renjun’s knee so hard he pulled off with a surprised groan. “Fuck! Oh fuck, please, please…” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but Donghyuck pulled out, manhandling you as he pleased. Bending your hips, he pressed your thighs to your chest, pushing his entire length in as both your legs resting over one of his shoulders. This new position took your breath away, your mouth falling apart into a pornographic ‘O’ shape. Donghyuck’s eyebrows furrowed, and you felt him release inside you. Thumbing your clit, your hips jerked off the bed and you cried. “Oh my god! P-please, ah, I’m gonna, oh fuck!”

“That’s it, my baby. Soak the sheets for me.” With one final cry, you squirted the hardest you had ever done before, clit throbbing as you came down from your high. You felt Renjun gently move one arm away from your chest before cumming himself all over your breasts as promised, pleasured moans and stutters of your real name escaping him as he did.

My baby. You pulled Donghyuck near you, crying in his shoulder as he rubbed your back gently, bare skin against skin. “Shhh, you’re okay. It’s okay.” You felt Renjun pull your hand to his lips, kissing the back of your hand gently as you breathed deeply. “Good girl. You did so well. So perfect for us.”

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