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#also he looks so beautiful with all his hair up ;____;
utterlyazriel · 3 days
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let me keep you company
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a/n: a wee break from the doom & gloom of wtssf! it's unedited so i want no flack for that thank u <3 enjoy <3 wc: 5.1k whoops synopsis: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.
For the record, you had never met a Shadowsinger before.
You'd never even seen one. Sure, you’d read about them briefly in your studies and almost every Fae in Prythian had heard about them in whispers and rumours.
Rumours that increased more so when a Shadowsinger rose to become a hand for the Highlord, his own personal spy. Then became the spymaster of the entire Night Court for the next Highlord.
But beyond gossip and unfinished chapters within the scripts of your libraries, the knowledge of Shadowsingers is far limited. They’re rare. For all you know, Shadowsinger’s are a ghost— moving as a shadow, disappearing in and out of the darkness of the world.
You had never met a Shadowsinger before—so it makes sense that you hadn't an ounce of a clue what to expect.
Staring at him now, 6 feet something of pure muscle, you're a bit embarrassed at your own surprise.
Because he's probably— no definitely— the most beautiful Fae you've ever laid eyes on. His hair is tousled and dark, his glorious tan skin that's mostly hidden beneath the black of his fighter leathers, and his amber eyes that laid on you for only one long moment. Breathtaking is the only adequate word for him.
All that beauty and he's a Shadowsinger.
And it's not like you thought he wouldn't be like, well, any other Fae. But also... you kinda did? Mother, you should've known Freya was tricking you when she said they were all just shadow-y corporeal forms.
But she's also not entirely wrong there. There are dozens of wispy shadows that hover around him in constant motion, dipping and flying around his shoulders and if you look close enough, you can see how he seems to ripple at the edges. Shadows blur the edge of his very being.
You wonder if he can disappear into them all together, if that was one of the abilities granted with them. Does he control them? He must, you think, if the title is Shadowsinger.
But looking at him now, his beautiful face turned to face the Highlord you should definitely be listening to, they flit about almost absentmindedly, as though they have a mind of their own.
One curls up by his ear and you watch it, fascinated, more and more questions springing up in your mind— what do they feel like on skin? Do they make any noise? Is that what they're doing now? Talking to—
A sharp elbow jabs into your side, making you jump.
Your head whips to the side, an instinctive scowl almost overtaking your face before you plaster it over with a smile, realising your mistake. Your mentor, Sergei, clears his throat and smiles awkwardly ahead at Rhysand. You blink and take another moment to realise you've been asked a question.
"I'm— I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" You try not to sound as mousy as you feel but the question comes out as a squeak anyway. He is the Highlord of the Night Court after all. You suddenly feel very foolish for being so easily distracted.
Thankfully, Rhysand regards you with an easy smile. He's leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and his violet eyes dance with humour as he flicks his gaze over to where you had just been staring.
"That's alright. Azriel is a piece of eye candy, I can't blame you for staring," He all but purrs, a hint of mirth pulling at his lips as he casts another glance at his Spymaster. You're taken aback by the casualness of his words.
Rhysand continues. "I was only saying that for the duration of your stay, you'll be hosted in one of my homes, the House of Wind. You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"
A smidge of fear pinches at your stomach because, honestly, you aren't overly keen on the idea. But you know better than to turn down the generosity of a Highlord.
You take another glance at the wings of his Spymaster and General and pray that it's not too high up.
"Not... much." You answer honestly.
There's a chuckle from the side of the room and your head swings around at the noise. It's not the Shadowsinger, though he looks as though he's politely trying not to smile, his chin ducked. It's the General, just as beautiful as his brother but in that more rugged way.
He flexes his wings out a bit, showing off their mighty wingspan. "We'll rid you of that fear in no time."
You try for a smile but it might be closer to a grimace.
"Fantastic." You say, not managing to put all your enthusiasm into the word like you hoped.
Another sharp jab of Sergei's elbow in your side. The Shadowsinger, Azriel, huffs a quiet laugh, his amber eyes flashing up to steal another look at you. You try your best not to fluster.
It's going to be a long two months.
As Sergei's apprentice, you're expected to shadow him through his allowed time within Velaris.
Which means if he goes to the library, you go to the library.
There's just one problem; the library is down in the city and your temporary home is up in the mountain. The quickest way down is with wings.
Rhysand— or just Rhys as he had told you to call him— had relayed the information that you could ask either Cassian or Azriel to escort you if you didn't wish to take the stairs.
Cassian, the General, had been the one to fly you down and back the first couple of times you had asked and you weren't in any particular hurry to relive the experience.
Cassian was nice and he was more than friendly but seemingly incapable of understanding any fear of heights. You weren't sure if that was just the only way to fly— swooping and dropping fast enough to make you shriek— but it certainly seemed to be Cassian's way.
Which leaves you with the option of either asking the Shadowsinger or taking the stairs.
You get down about two hundred steps before you start to regret your decision. But, also, how in the Cauldron were you supposed to ask him to take you? (Never mind that you had asked Cassian quite easily, albeit very nervously.)
Oh, hi Shadowsinger who I can't stop staring at for both your abilities and your handsome face—care to sweep me into your arms and carry me places?
As if, you snort to yourself.
You take the thousand stairs all the way to the bottom and trot towards the enormous library, pretending your thighs aren't aching with overuse or that you're out of breath. Thankfully, the library itself isn't too far from the House of Wind, carved into the same side of the mountain.
As expected, Sergei is less than pleased with your tardiness.
"Sorry," The word rushes out of you in a wheeze, probably too loud for the library, as you scuttle in the entrance. A few priestesses turn their heads to look at you and you cringe, raising your hands in apology. "Sorry, I'm sorry,"
You focus back on your mentor and try to catch your breath, all while you explain. "I took the stairs and it took—" You huff out a breath. "—way longer than I thought."
Sergei's face softens a bit at your explanation, his face taking on a pitiful smile. "Still not enjoying the flying?"
"You are?" You ask in response. The thought of Sergei, your old-Fae mentor, swept up in Cassian's arms as he dips and dives makes you chuckle just a bit.
Sergei shakes his head as if to change the topic of conversation, deciding you've wasted enough time already. He turns, beginning to head further into the library and you follow behind him closely, eager to brush over your early morning fumble. The cavernous structure within the mountain yawns out ahead of you and you get all of two moments to wonder just how deep down it goes, when—
"You did not ask for a ride this morning."
Azriel steps up beside you, seemingly from nowhere, his steps falling in time with yours with ease. You jump, startled, and your footsteps falter for a moment. You're relieved to say that you only make one embarrassing noise in your surprise.
"I— oh, it's— I mean, I just..." You trail off, feeling flustered. "...like to walk."
You chance a glance up at him. He's wearing that same polite expression from yesterday, as though he's trying not to laugh and you get too caught up in the swirlings of his shadows to remember to be properly embarrassed. Both of you walk in tandem behind Sergei, slowly descending into the lower levels of the library.
"If you insist," He says, his voice low. It sends something warm down your spine and you pray he doesn't notice how your body temperature is definitely climbing.
His amber eyes pin you with another look, his lips twitching into a small smile. "However, if Cassian is giving you trouble, I would be happy to provide a smoother ride."
You flounder for a moment. You don't want to get anyone in trouble.
"I— he's not giving me trouble," You stammer.
Azriel smiles a little wider as if he can tell how polite you're trying to be. He slows to a meander and you realise only after you walk past him, it's because Sergei has stopped himself, turning down one of the many aisles.
You skid yourself to a halt and turn back, praying your flaming face isn't as obvious as it feels. You're not entirely sure if Azriel is accompanying you today but you're sure that Sergei would've mentioned it if he was.
You dip your head in a strange, awkward bow motion. Then point to the aisle Sergei disappeared into.
"I'll be... going this way."
Azriel's smile grows, like you've told a joke, and he ducks his head. He peers up at you through his dark lashes and you wonder if anyone's ever told him how damn beautiful he is. Probably. You're probably the last in a long line of people. Mother, his eyes though.
"If you don't wish to make the hike the other way," He murmurs.
He extends one of his hands and you watch the dozen shadows swarm around it, one of them separating from the pack to dive to the ground. It shoots forward and spins around your ankle, almost happily. "Just let the shadow know. I would be happy to assist."
When you look back up, he’s already gone without a sound. You try not to look so surprised— you’ve seen someone winnow before but you’re almost certain that the way Azriel moved about silently was something else altogether.
“Y/n!” Sergei’s voice echoes down the shelves, reminding you that you’re still late. You throw a quick glance around to check but it's fruitless; you can’t see the Shadowsinger anywhere.
You turn and bustle down the aisle quickly, not wanting to keep Sergei any longer. It takes only a second to notice the sole, black shadow that dances along behind you.
Guess you have company.
Okay, so, the shadows are definitely their own little guys.
Mainly because you can’t imagine how Azriel would be controlling them when he’s nowhere in sight.
And this one shadow is being awfully helpful.
The first time you drop your quill, knocking it to the ground as you lean over one of the many intricately carved desks, trying to reach another book, you don’t even notice it fall to the ground.
In fact, you have no idea how many times it’s picked up your fallen quill that you’ve undoubtedly knocked over countless times— only that it had given you the fright of your life to have it hover before your face, gripped only by the wispy shadow Azriel left with you.
“Holy shit!” You gasp, your loud voice echoing in the quietness of the library.
Sergei's head whips up, his eyes narrowing at the intruding sound with evident disapproval. You quickly snatch the quill out of mid-air and sink down in your seat. Gods, the echoes in here were doing you no favours.
“Sorry,” You whisper. Your eyes dart down to the shadow that retreated to your side, flickering around your ankle more wildly. “Er, thanks.”
It feels a bit silly to give thanks to something you’re not sure can hear you. But you figure if it can pick up your quill, you're better off using your manners.
Sergei gives you a somewhat bewildered look and you try to appease him with an awkward smile. It works enough for him to continue his work but not without one more lingering glance of worry in your direction. Great. You're talking to shadows and your old-man mentor thinks you're a bit nuts.
The shadow continues its helpful endeavours, following you when you head down different aisles at Sergei's request. It dances across the shelves, dissolving occasionally just to puff back up somewhere else, pulling your attention this way and that. It's playful. Friendly.
You deduce by the end of the day that you know even less about Shadowsinger's than you had thought. The abilities and personality of just one shadow are uncanny; like a silent friend keeping you company. You imagine that Azriel rarely gets lonely with as many as he has. Maybe you'll ask him.
When Sergei and you wind back up the staircases and he dismisses you for the evening, heading into the city for his own further business, you stand at the mouth of the library and ponder if you'll be brave enough to summon the Shadowsinger.
The shadow is still with you, circling your wrist absently. You peer down at it and think of all those stairs. Somewhat nervously, you raise your hand and try to be as casual as possible about talking to a shadow on your hand.
"Hi." You start, trying not to feel foolish. "Um, well, I guess I'm done for the day. Could— could you, if he's not busy that is, uh, let Azriel know? I don't mind waiting if he is."
The shadow zips off barely before you can finish your sentence and your head swings to watch it go, disappearing somewhere to your left.
You can't help but be a little amazed at its speed—it must be an incredible networking system to have a thousand little spies running around for you. No wonder almost all Shadowsingers tend to end up in the same line of work, you think to yourself, still peering in the direction of the shadow when—
"Y/n."
Even though he's said your name soft and quiet, Azriel still manages to take you by surprise. You jump and turn, all in one motion.
"Mother!" Your hand holds over your chest, relief curling in at the sides as your fright ebbs away. "That was fast."
"You called," Azriel responds, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. He gives you an almost shy smile.
It makes you fluster a bit and you gesture to the exit awkwardly and wordlessly, if only so you don't have to come up with a response to his intense and endearing answer.
Together, you wander out from the library and creep towards the edge of Velaris. It's a beautiful city and more than deserving of its title, especially when viewed from the House of Wind. You turn and cast your eyes up the mountainside, your familiar nervous fear pitching up from your stomach.
Then you look at the warrior beside you, tall enough that he's got what feels like more than a head's height on you, with his wings reaching above even his own head. His jaw is sharp and his eyes are already on you as your gaze trails up his face. Fuck. He's really pretty.
Now you're nervous for an entirely different reason.
"We can still take the stairs if you wish," He says, his hand sweeping back to the path you had followed along this morning. His shadows move with his hands, a black vortex that whirls around and around. "I'd be more than happy to keep you company."
Mother, he's not helping you in the slightest, being so perfectly nice to you. You regard the stairs and think back to how many hours it took before your thighs stopped aching—and that was on the way down.
"No, we can- we can try flying again." You say, nodding to yourself as if it'll help quell your fear. It takes another moment to realise that means you'll be bundled up in his strong arms, held against his broad chest and you feel a little shiver run through your body at the thought.
Azriel notices it too, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "You're sure?" He checks.
You nod, not meeting his eyes, trying to keep your nerve. Flying is already something you're not keen on. Flying whilst being swept up in the arms of a Shadowsinger who you think is the most beautiful Fae you've ever seen? You send a silent prayer to the Mother that you don't do something embarrassing, like puking down his front.
"Let me know if you're uncomfortable at any time," He says softly and then he bends his knees slightly, one of his scarred hands resting on your lower back as the other scoops beneath your knees. He lifts you as though you weigh nothing.
It's impossible not to flush as you get nestled against his firm chest, your hands panicking for a moment as you try to think of a normal place to put them. Around his neck? On his chest? Either of them feels far too intimate for a man you've known only a week.
"You don't have to but I would suggest holding on," Azriel comments with a smile, his chest vibrating with the words. You nod, agreeing with him, but don't make a move to do so, only holding your hands out in front of you to indicate you're not sure where to put them.
The shadows adorning his shoulders move on their own, their friendly presence easing your nerves as they slither down to circle around your wrists. There's a gentle tug and you let them move your hands til they're wrapped around Azriel's neck, moving you much closer in the process.
Gods, your faces are close together. Another couple of inches and you could probably press your lips to his perfect ones—a thought that makes you fluster all over again. Was he getting prettier every time you saw him? For not the first time, you thank the Mother that it was Rhys with the daemaeti gift and not Azriel.
"Ready?" He checks, which is sweet. Cassian had just shot up into the sky the first time, without any warning.
You grip your arms around his neck a little tighter and then nod. "Ready," You say, quieter than intended.
You catch just a moment of Azriel's demure smile, your heart swooping at the sight, before you're both launched into the sky with one flap of his wings.
The noise that escapes you is one you're less than proud of, a squawky sound noise of panic that you bury into Azriel's neck. You expect him to laugh like Cassian had, not meanly but playfully, but instead Azriel's arms just tighten around you. As if he was assuring you that he would not let you fall.
By the time you're up at the House of Wind, Azriel making a far more graceful descent than his brother, you're less freaked out and more ready to point some accusatory fingers in the face of the Night Court's General.
That bastard had been fucking with you! The flight with Azriel proved as much, considering how much calmer and smoother it had been. You couldn't help but say as much as you were placed down from Azriel's hold, glad to be back on solid ground.
"I have some words for Cassian, Mother above," You ramble, straightening out your rumpled clothes from the flight. "Did he think I was kidding when I said I was afraid?"
Azriel smiles at your fieriness, his shadows calmer than they were in flight, moving about lazily. His eyes take a fleeting glance at the house behind you before focusing intently back on you.
"Cassian can have a strange sense of humour at times. He means well." He says. Then he grins. "I should like to see you tell him off— not enough people do."
You hmph. "Maybe I will."
You suddenly realise the closeness between you and Azriel, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. His scent of cedar and mist swirls around you, tantalizing and alluring in a way you've never known before. You take a step back to contain yourself.
"I—uh, well, thank you very much." You say, as sweet as you can. "For the ride."
Your eyes catch on one of his dozen shadows and you smile, observing them for a moment. "And the shadow. It was excellent company."
Azriel brightens, an expression of surprise crossing his face before he schools it away. He smiles, brazen and breathtaking. When he speaks, he sounds a little disbelieving. "You like them?"
You nod quickly, noticing how one of his shadows has snuck off again and circulates your ankle speedily. You laugh at the ticklish feeling of it against your skin.
"They're incredible." You breathe, meaning every word. "I imagine you must've ge—"
"Apologies, y/n." A smooth voice cuts in, Rhys stepping up somewhere behind you and stealing both of your attention. He dressed in more casual clothes than you last saw, but not quite Azriel's fighting leathers. "Azriel here is needed for some brief business. Do you mind if I borrow him?"
The way he poses the question, as if Azriel is yours, does something wonky to your heart. You flounder for a moment, stepping back and waving your hand in the direction of the Shadowsinger.
"Of- of course, by all means." You trip over the words and hope you don't sound too eager to escape his company. That couldn't be more untrue.
You turn back to Azriel and fix him with a smile, hoping it's not as nervous as you feel. "I'll... see you around?"
Azriel steals a glance to the side where Rhys awaits before he nods with another reserved smile. Hold on, is that pink on his cheeks?
"Let me know if you need any more help getting to and from the library. I'd be happy to assist."
And then with a quick nod to you, he walks off to join Rhys, his wings tucked in tight, careful to not nudge you. You watch them go, unable to stop yourself from letting your eyes wander down. Damn, all that training did wonders. What was that saying? Hate to watch 'em go, love to watch them leave.
Ahead, Rhys abruptly laughs and peers back over his shoulder, letting you exactly how well you had shielded those thoughts. You flush and scurry into the house as if it'll save you from the embarrassment of what's just happened. You only hope he won't pass the message on to Azriel.
It continues like that for the rest of the week.
Azriel carries you down the height of the mountain and leaves you with a promise that if you need anything, you can tell the shadow and he'll come to find you.
The shadow keeps its usual playful company. Beyond retrieving your dropped quills, it helpfully turns the pages of books for you. When you're focused on what you're writing, it nudges back any loose strands of hair. Once it even brings you a flower from Mother knows where. One single Lily of the Valley, left resting on your desk.
It makes you wonder; are all Shadowsinger's shadows like this? You can't help but imagine these niceties are shaped by Azriel's own soft nature.
Today, whilst you study in the vast caverns of the library, you get an unexpected visitor.
As you take your time scanning through the books in one of the vast aisles, you realise the Fae coming down from the other end of the aisle is none other than the Highlady herself.
"Feyre!" You greet warmly. The two of you had met before when she had taken duties in your home court and if it weren't too bold, you'd say you consider yourself good friends. Feyre smiles, glowing like moonlight, as she realises who it is.
"Y/n," She says your name sweetly and her hug is just as such. She pulls away, ready to inquire about your studies when she spots the trailing shadow behind you.
"Making friends, I see," She comments. Her eyebrows raise almost teasingly as if she's made a certain insinuation. You take a moment to notice what she's referencing.
"It's nice," You say, a defensive lilt to your tone. You hold out your hand and the shadow jumps at the opportunity to skitter around it playfully. "It's like a little friend."
Feyre smiles at your words but chuckles a little. "Except Azriel is anything but little."
You pause at her words, glancing down at the shadow and back up at Feyre. "What do you mean? I thought— they're not- I mean, aren't they...?”
You trail off, unsure of how to word the question you're trying to ask. Feyre smiles, her gray eyes glittering with mirth as she realises what you're figuring out.
"They're all his. Azriel's. He controls them." She tilts her head a bit, watching the shadow that drifts about your hand and wrist. "True, they roam a bit on their own but... Not like this."
"Oh," You murmur, thinking back to that first day in the library.
The playful shadow that lead you back and forth, picking up your quill and turning your pages. It was him, all along.
Something immeasurably warm starts to glow in your chest, a thread that loops through your heart and sends the valves into overdrive. Its warmth grows, something molten hot beginning to bleed in your chest— and it feels wonderful. It feels right.
"Oh," You gasp as you figure it out.
Feyre grins, watching you piece together what the rest of the inner circle has clued together from the very first day. She stands to the side and gestures to the entrance of the library with a tilt of her head.
"Go on then," She urges you.
For a moment, you think back to Sergei who sent you hunting for a certain manuscript Cauldron knows how long ago but the thought is washed away in an instant. You can feel it now, the strong tug in your chest. The connection that binds you to another.
You stride past Feyre, giving a quick thanks! and all but run up the spiral staircases, heading for the entrance. The shadow pings along with you and as you near the top, you look down at it and say through huffed breaths, "You better go get him."
He's waiting by the time you get there.
Against the setting sun, for a moment there's only the silhouette of him— a warrior with tall wings, the edges of him rippling like a mirage. He might just be one; an oasis in your life, the answer that you've been searching for for centuries. You can't believe you didn't notice.
Your footsteps echo on the marble as you march right up to him and Azriel watches you closely the whole time, his amber eyes soft but his expression hinting at his nervousness. Gods, he's wonderful. You can't believe he gets to be yours and you get to be his.
"How long have you known?" You ask because it's the first thing on your mind. You're nearly panting from the exhilaration of your sudden exercise, from the dawning future that's blooming right in front of you. He's your mate. Gods, how could you have missed it?
Azriel smiles, that same tentative one that's been driving you crazy all week. His wings give a little shake behind him, a giveaway of his nerves.
"I... suspected from the beginning." He chooses his words carefully, wary of how you might respond.
You can't help your little gasp, feeling even more of a fool. You curse, ducking your head before you glare back up at him, no real heat in your gaze. You have the urge to give him a little shove, just for keeping you in the dark.
"And you didn't think to tell me?"
One of his shadows spins up unexpectedly, dancing across your shoulders and tickling your cheeks gently. You startle in surprise but something sweeter curls up in your chest at the tenderness of its touch.
"Believe me," Azriel says with a quiet chuckle, his amber eyes darting over your face intensely. "I've been trying."
You melt. Eyes locked with his, you move slowly, letting your arms drift up to drape around his neck like they've done every morning and evening since he began flying you around. You realise acutely that Cassian's behaviour, his shoddy flying, had likely been on purpose. You laugh a little, eyes creasing shut in pure euphoria.
Azriel's hands find your waist and you can feel the slight tremble in them.
"In my defense," You murmur, pushing up on your toes. You're close, so close, your lips hovering just an inch from a kiss—his shadows go wild around you both. It makes you grin. "I had never met a Shadowsinger before."
"Yeah?" Azriel breathes shakily. "Disappointed?"
He says it like a joke but you can hear the note of sincerity in his tone. His hidden worry that he isn't all you dreamed of. It's nearly laughable how wrong he is.
This close you can see his long lashes and every shade of brown in his eyes. You wonder if you'll ever get used to how beautiful he is. Part of you hopes you never do.
"Not in the slightest," You say, nearly a whisper.
Then his lips are on yours, pillowy soft skin against yours, and it feels like coming home. He kisses you, kisses you, kisses you til you're breathless and the glow in your chest could rival the sun in its warmth.
He kisses you and every atom in your body hums and fizzes and comes to life — and all you can do is hold him tight and kiss him back, just as fiercely.
Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant and grin brazenly at Azriel, at your mate, happier than you've ever been. Faintly, you realise that you won't be heading home when the two months of your study are up after all.
Not when you have a man who looks at you so reverently, who kisses you like there's oxygen hidden in the plush of your lips, who holds you like there's nothing more precious in the world.
Not when you know that home is right here, in front of you.
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rjchocobi · 3 days
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HOLD STILL, PRETTY BOY, lee haechan
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♡ . . . synopsis ; when your pretty boyfriend can't seem to stand in one place for a moment for you to snap a picture.
♡ . . . genre ; haechan × idol! fem reader, oh so silly fluff, inspired by the pictures from inkigayo bts they posted that took my breath away, established relationship.
♡ . . . notes ; i've been writing a lot these past few days and i think i'm over my slump. but i always start overthinking and never end up posting anything. here's to the first post on tumblr! just taking baby steps till i can put together something that lives up to my standards.
p.s also, requests are officially open!
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"Lee Donghyuck, if you don't stop moving in the next second—"
Your exasperated yell does nothing but fuel his laughter as he ducks away from the frame of your camera, hands shoved in his pockets. Beside you Mark has given up wrangling his bandmate and stands under the cherry blossoms as you take a few stills of him.
All of your group members and theirs are spread around on the mostly empty street behind the SBS Open Hall. Beautiful pale pink flowers shower you with petals at the slightest wind blowing over them.
"Honestly, would it kill you to stand straight for a little bit?" You huff, putting the lens protector back on.
"I already have my whole day being filmed to be put on YouTube. I think I'm fine having a few minutes to myself," he says wittyly, making you pout.
It's not like he's wrong. He's just so infuriatingly correct about everything, and if you weren't such a sucker for capturing these moments, you would have been equally resistant to having a camera shoved in your face all the time.
"Hey, _____? Can I borrow your camera for a bit?" Jaemin's calls make you march over to him, handing over your precious Nikon DSLR with utmost care. Yet, if anything, he's the only one that understands your awe at such a whimsical sight.
You fish your phone from your pocket next, sheepishly approaching Donghyuck as he stares at the bright blue sky dotted with clouds. You can't take your eyes away from his face—from the sunlight peppering his skin in a delicate glow and making it's already lovely colour appear otherworldly; right down to the moles you loved to map constellations on.
Catching yourself before you could be found staring, you clear your throat. "Haechannie, can I please just take one picture? Pretty please?"
His eyebrows quirk up in amusement but he holds out hand towards you. You blink at it owlishly. "Only if we take a selfie together."
You smirk, seizing the golden opportunity to tease. "Oh, you looove me."
Contrary to what you expected—maybe a snarky reply or equal amounts of nonsensical teasing being reciprocated—Donghyuck only pulls you closer by hooking an arm around your waist, plucking petals off your curled hair. "That I do."
Feeling the familiar heat creep up you neck and towards your cheeks, you lower you head. "You're awfully sentimental today."
He scoffs. "What? Like I need a specific day to declare my overflowing feelings for my girlfriend." He pauses for a moment, staring at your dolled up face, a finger coming to press lightly on the gem sticker shaped like a star at the corner of your left eye. "You look really pretty."
You're practically beaming, soaking in this soft side of him you that adore just as much as his dramatics. "Yeah? You look very pretty, too. Now, hold still pretty boy and let me take a picture?"
"I guess one is fine." Donghyuck didn't let it show but you know he is flustered. Avoiding eye contact with such vigor was a telltale sign. You chuckle, going on your tiptoes to press your lips against his cheek, right as you click the shutter button.
Before you could pull back to inspect the product, he grabs the back of your neck, placing his pillowy lips on top of yours and you positively melt against him.
For all it was worth, you ignore the hoots and whistles of your friends to cherish these stolen moments wedged between hectic schedules.
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mayullla · 2 days
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Title: The Wedding is Today
Character(s): Viscount (Unnamed character/original work)
Summary: The wedding is today as you look at yourself in front of the mirror, wearing a white gown. Are you scared or are you broken? You weren't sure. Yet your time was limited till you become whole his.
Warnings/tags: Yandere Viscount x Fallen aristocrat!reader, F!reader, general yandere themes, manipulation (both physical and mental), power imbalance, forced marriage, loss of control, womb tattoo that is not sexual, forced servitude, 2k words
This is part two, click here for part one!
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Dressed in the most beautiful white wedding dress, decorated with lace and pearls, you looked at yourself in the mirror.
You had always dreamed of wearing a wedding dress; after all, it was something that you had always been told you would have. And you had always been fascinated by the idea of wearing a dress that was the image of purity and elegance. In the past, you thought you would have it with your ex-fiancé but instead of him you were to wed another man, someone so infatuated by you.
Even with carefully done hair and makeup, it could not hide your empty eyes.
Was this the result? It had been a long time since you last saw your face in the mirror. In that dark room, forced into the whims of that man, you didn't have much. There was no mirror there, just a bed, table, and desk, with most of your clothes and necessities brought by the silent servants.
Hollow eyes covered by a black cloth.
You felt weak, your body shivering as you pulled your eyes away from the mirror. Tears threatened to fall as you tried to hold them in, worried that you might ruin your makeup and irritate him, who only wanted perfection.
You didn't want this… you didn't want this at all.
You were marrying a monster.
Even if you wanted to escape, there was no way you could. He had made sure to snuff out all your ideas or thoughts of running away. That man had placed his hands all over you just to ensure that you could think of nothing but him, making sure you would never be able to run away even after you were finally let out from your prison. You still felt like a trapped bird.
Invisible chains locked your wrists, legs, neck, and hands, forcing you to dance to his orders. You could not stand up; it was as if something was holding your stomach down, a weight keeping you still on the chair as you waited for the time drawing near, challenging you to even think of trying. A white choker necklace tightened around your neck, making you conscious of every breath. Your back was straightened with a corset designed to keep your posture rigid, preventing you from even bending slightly.
He said that he had to make sure, after all, worried that you might hunch and cry while walking down the aisle, your face would be hidden with the white veil, but he just had to make sure of your shoulders and your back.
“Your tears are pretty. But if you don't give the crowd a happy cry then we shall keep most of that in private. Oh love, you are my precious and it is the same with your tears also. They should only be seen by me.”
Yet nothing could be as shameful as the womb sigil placed on your stomach the glowing ever so bright under the dark room when you were told to go to sleep late at night. A warmth it created that you didn't want. You would have preferred to freeze to death that feel this.
The viscount rambled about how much he adored you, his perfect doll, during the carriage ride, and how much you have improved in the past days that you stayed here. He commented on your suffering and how hard you were working just to please him. You flinched the moment he said that he could not wait to make it official that you were his. “In just a few hours my dear and all the world would know that you are mine forever.”
You didn't want to look at him. You didn't want to look at anyone.
“My lovely bride," his comments made you want to vomit as tears fell down to your skirt in the carriage. His hands touched your cheeks as he gently lifted your face. Your eyes met his, and not even a lick of pity or guilt was in them, nothing but obsession, lust, and thrill. "Aww… Let your tears out now, dear, so that later when they put on your makeup, you won't ruin it," he whispered as he moved his thumb to clean your tears from your cheeks. 
“I am the only one here with you right now. It is okay to cry.”
“My little dear is just so pretty. Sometimes I don't know if I could hold back later when you finally become fully mine." Lowering his head, you flinched again when he placed his chin near your neck, his hands wrapped around your waist. You could feel his cold skin against yours, hot from your emotions.
“I worry that I might just break you one day..."
None of the guests touched you when you arrived at the wedding hall only able to greet you with a bit of a distance; maids that worked under him had made sure of that. Small adjustments in the dress or helping you reach one place or another were all done by them. They worked efficiently, but you knew that their main job was to be watchdogs.
You could never stare into their eyes for too long, though. To someone who knew or who was sharp, it was obvious that the shine of life in them, meant to fool outsiders, still looked somehow fake.
You stared at the floor of the dressing room, zoned out. The music from the orchestra outside was loud yet muffled. You could hear people talking, enough to realize that the Viscount made sure that everybody attended just to see him put a lock on your finger.
In just a few minutes, you will belong to him, and you can do nothing to stop it.
It was difficult to breathe.
You didn't want to move at all when your feet started moving, tried to stop yourself when you felt a certain buzz in your core under your stomach again, warning you not to try anything.
You remember after all that time when you so desperately wanted to run away and were so close to doing so. Back then when the Viscount left the room without locking the door, you thought you could run away at that moment and that this was your chance. Even if your feet hurt from dancing the same steps for hours just moments ago, you forced yourself to move, so desperate to leave.
There was no one in the halls as you ran, careful not to cause any sound that would let servants or him notice your presence. And you were close… very close to the door to the outside.
Only to feel a shock in your core running through your whole body. It was like fire burning your skin inside out, licking your skin, leaving trails of fire that grew hotter and hotter. You fell down in the hallway, unable to move as waves of pain threatened to melt your body. You couldn't scream at all, barely a gasp.
The sigil on your stomach had reacted violently to your escape.
And the pain didn't stop, no matter how many tears fell from your eyes. No matter how much you wanted to escape from the pain, it kept you wide awake. The pain in your stomach was gruesome, while your veins felt like it was lit on fire. At one point, it did dull down, as if someone deemed that your punishment had been properly given… but you could not move, and he made sure of that. You covered your face and sobbed still feeling like every body part was burnt to a crisp.
Later, when the Viscount came back from a meeting and saw you on the floor he tutted at you… no anger in his eyes when he picked you up in a bridal carry. “My dear honey, you shouldn’t have done that. What if you had gotten hurt while running away?” He asked you with a smile, his grip on your leg painfully tight.
You received another punishment from the Viscount himself.
You watched him place a chain on your ankle, securing it to the bed. You flinched at his touch, whining when the cold metal touched your skin.
“I made sure to go lightly on you. But don't think it will be the same next time, dear,” he told you as he carried you to your bed, giving you pecks on your forehead while combing your hair as if to comfort you. “It will be even worse than this..”
Let me remind you that as long as you know that you belong to me, I will spoil you more than kings and emperors could ever do for their queens. But if you could not understand that, then we could only just fix it… and you already know what I mean by saying that.”
“Right, Love?”
“It will be your turn soon. Please get ready,” a servant spoke up. In public, they removed all their masks around their eyes. You had expected their eyes for a moment to be dead just as they were before, yet instead, you saw a liveliness that didn't belong to the person. “Please wait a moment, and we will finish up a few remaining touches,” the servant spoke in a cheerful voice, as other servants walked around with similar smiles.
You disliked how fake it was, but more than anything, you were scared that this would be what you would finally become if you even made the Viscount mad enough, pushing the thought that maybe you already were deep in your mind.
A long veil attached to your hair, the Viscount had a favor towards longer hair and told you to grow it if it was short. The dress was cleaned from any fold marks, wrinkles and small imperfections. 
A white bouquet held by another maid given to you.
Your hands took the white bouquet without listening to your fear and hesitation. Again, you wondered if you were broken, already a marionette that he sometimes called you.
Walking out of the bride's room, you stood in front of huge doors in the long hallway, your own eyes empty of any delight but hidden by the innocent white veil, sheer enough to see your face just a little. Your neck moved by itself when it heard the announcement of the bride, your chin being forced up as the doors opened. You could hear the clapping first, and as you started to walk down the aisle alone, you could see some nobles who once watched you be humiliated by your past fiancé and his girl. 
You didn't care about them anymore.
Your eyes moved to see in front of you, and you saw your parents, both smiling as you walked down the aisle, almost as if proud parents when in reality you knew it was a picture the Viscount wanted of something perfect.
Looking at the man again, watching you walk towards him with a satisfied smile on his lips, you could see the madness and obsession swirling in those eyes, knowing that you have been placed into a corner where all he must do is choke you even more.
Standing in front of him, you looked at him, the same sly smile on his lips as the day you first arrived at his mansion and fell into his trap. The marriage officiant continued to speak, yet most of his words you could barely hear as you were too deep in your thoughts. This moment, these last few seconds would be the last that belonged to you until it becomes official that you would be forever trapped and controlled by the man's obsession and delusions for you.
You heard the Viscount speak for a moment, bringing you out of your thoughts immediately. You had become too sensitive to his voice. You noticed the marriage officiant turn to you after hearing the answer of the Viscount and asking you the question, “Would you take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?”
Looking at the Viscount who stared at you lovingly yet at the same time knowingly, waiting to hear you say the words that will bind you to him forever. This breath would be the last that you breathe for yourself and not for him. He was a serpent, he had already bitten into your skin, letting poison seep into your veins. Any hope now would be too late. 
You closed your eyes, letting tears fall down your face.
“Yes… I do.”
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daycourtofficial · 1 day
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Amber eyes, looking into mine
Summary: Eris finds something in his study that triggers him into a frozen state of panic. Who better suited to pulling Eris from his past than his future?
Author’s note: I wrote this in under an hour so please be nice and if there are any typos, no there aren’t 💕 Also technically this is part of my gingerfucker series, but can be read alone and she doesn’t make an appearance, it’s all Eris and the baby okay byeee
TW: panic attack, mentions of being whipped and being burnt
Word count: ~1k
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A trade agreement sat on his desk, one that predates his tenure as high lord. Eris had found the document stuffed away in a drawer, abandoning what he was searching for as soon as he recognized it.
His father’s large, obnoxious signature at the bottom, the ridiculously high tariffs on imported goods. He could hear the whip in his ears, feeling his body tense with memory.
It was all too much. He had spoken with his father about the deal, wanting to give incentives for traders to come into Autumn rather than deterrents. Beron had laughed at him, telling him that everything anyone needs can be found in Autumn.
The night hadn’t ended there.
Beron had whipped him for having such a ridiculous idea in front of the other courtiers.
“No son of mine will appear so idiotic before others,” he had said, his voice ringing in Eris’s ears. 
Eris was seated in his chair in his study, but his mind was elsewhere. Down deep, deep in the dungeons of the Forest House, a trek he made many nights, his blood dripping through the house as he limped back to his own chambers.
Chubby hands grip the fabric of his trousers, a body too small traveling up his legs, climbing for what they love most in this world. Little feet find their footing on his thighs, hands leaning against his torso to support their weight.
Amber eyes look at him, searching for praise at the impossible task they just completed. 
His eyes.
What his eyes used to look like, before Beron burnt the joy out of them.
Eris is frozen in place, caught in a spiral of hatred and loathing by his son. His beautiful, wonderfully funny son, who looks at him with the love and adoration his mother looks at him with.
If his son knew all that he had done to prevent Beton’s ire, would his eyes still look for Eris in every room? Would his eyes still fill with tears, his lungs exhaling every breath at bedtime, unable to sleep without seeing his father one last time?
The spitting image of him, his mother finding an old portrait of himself at this age, his son a direct image of the portrait. Was this how he looked when Beron began his tirade of cruelty against his family? Did soft coos of a babe turn into wails at any contact with Beron?
All he had ever known was the flame, the flame within himself that refused to be extinguished, and the flames his father tormented him with for centuries.
He feels those flames on his skin, his own flame desperate to fight it. He feels the heat licking up his forearms, he feels it cascading down his back in waves, searching for every inch of unclaimed skin. He clenches his fists, desperate to bring himself back to reality. Instead, his breathing becomes more ragged, his jaw clenching.
He can smell the flesh burning off of him, feel his stomach churning, his throat filling with bile at the smell, so strong he could taste it.
Tiny fingers grip into his hair, yanking lightly, trying to find balance. The feeling jolts him back, back from the past, back from a place that doesn’t exist anymore. 
The babe stands in his lap, toes gripping his trousers as he tries to learn how to use them. A warmth so unnatural from something so young radiates off of his son. A tear splashes onto the little foot, which the babe immediately burns off. 
Giggles fill the room at his show of his powers and Eris is finally able to move again as he wraps his arms around the young princeling, so unaware of how the world can burn.
He holds him in a tight embrace, squishing his face into the tiny neck, breathing him in. He gives himself five seconds, clutching the clothes covering the babe’s chest.
Five.
He breathes in deeply, his chest heaving with sobs that escape his mouth.
Four.
It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. It had never been fair. Nothing was fair.
Three.
It took hours to kill Beron, centuries of scheming, and his presence was still felt throughout the court, throughout him-
He feels something cold and wet on his neck, tiny hands still gripping his hair, but his son is slobbering across his neck, his cheek, the movement tickling Eris’s neck. He laughs as he realizes that his son is mimicking how they make him laugh by blowing raspberries into his neck, his cheeks, his stomach.
He delicately pulls the face from his neck, leaning his forehead against his firstborn’s forehead. His eyes are wide with wonder. Everything is new to him and the worst thing he’s experienced is dropping his favorite toy in a mud puddle.
He looks at his father, not sure what to make of him, until Eris slowly smiles at him, his eyes lightening with fondness, catching a bit of the spark from his son’s eyes.
And the baby in his arms smiles back, grabbing Eris’s nose in excitement as he babbles noncoherent sounds. Eris stretches his legs out, sinking into his chair a bit, letting his back relax into the chair. Eris responds to the babbling, occasional hums and responses to whatever he was trying to convey to his father. 
Someday, the words would come. They would flow freely, spilling from his mouth in anger, in sadness, in disbelief. They would come more easily, small things setting off his memories and not allowing him to think of anything until they left him. He would share the burden of his memories.
Someday, the words would come. But not today. Today the incoherent babbling was enough.
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bro-atz · 2 days
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sun's out
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in which: you and seonghwa are on a picnic and, well, one thing leads to another.
pair: idol!bf!seonghwa/afab!gf!reader
word count: 1.5k
content: smut, public sex, unprotected sex (REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), nicknames (baby), some cockwarming, hwa feeds you strawberries, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: "for my beautiful partner of five years, maya" — @juyofans 2024; and @yunhoszn also requested to be tagged so here you are babes; also, if you're not imagining this fit while you read, you're not imagining right jsyk
networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @newworldnet @wonderlandnet
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Since he had a couple days to spare in between schedules, Seonghwa decided to make up all the lost time with you by taking you out on a picnic. He told you to wear your prettiest outfit and “make yourself look nice for him”— as if he had to tell you, but seeing the words on the screen from him made all sorts of shivers run down your spine. So, you did your makeup and hair all pretty, and you wore the cutest little sundress that you had been saving for a special occasion— a white one with strawberries all over it— and matching strappy heels before taking off.
The second you saw Seonghwa at the location he texted you to meet him at, you nearly foamed at the mouth. He, with his flattering, black tank top, wide cut black jeans, and black cowboy hat, was stunning. He was so stunning, in fact, you feared that if you looked right at him, you would go blind.
“Seonghwa!” you greeted from afar as you broke into a light jog to get to him.
You jumped into Seonghwa’s outstretched arms, the man immediately giggling as he twirled you around.
“Hi, baby,” he sighed into your ear. He set you down and held your hands as his eyes scanned you up and down, the tips of his ears starting to turn red as he said, “Look at you dressed up all nice and pretty for me… You make me so happy, you know that?"
A faint blush rose to your cheeks. Before you could even gather words in your head to respond, Seonghwa kissed your cheek and led you over to a large tree where he had spread out a picnic blanket, glasses, a bottle of wine, and a picnic basket.
The two of you sat down and talked in hushed tones while sipping on the white wine Seonghwa had expertly chose for your little picnic date, the two of you laughing, smiling, and enjoying the company. It had been so long since the two of you were able to experience a normal date instead of having to sneak over to the ATEEZ dorm or him over to your apartment— it was truly refreshing.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” you suddenly said, slightly startling the man. “I brought something for us.”
You went on all fours and reached for your bag— you had put it on one of the corners of the picnic blanket to keep it down— and started rummaging through it. You wanted to take polaroid pictures with your boyfriend, and you specifically set it aside to bring it for your date, but it seemed like you left it at home because it was nowhere inside your bag. You cursed under your breath and continued to rifle through your bag as if you would magically produce the camera, but that was obviously not going to happen.
While you struggled, Seonghwa, who was at first interested in what you brought, had shifted his attention elsewhere. You had crossed over in front of him, giving you a nice view of your chest, and his mouth was practically foaming when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra or pasties or anything. Fuck, he was rock hard, and he needed to do something about it fast.
You sat up and were about to complain to him about the fact that you left the polaroid at home when you took a look at his dazed face, confusing you slightly.
“Hwa? What’s wrong?”
“C’mere, baby,” he uttered, his hands patting his lap. “Sit.”
You shifted towards him, your legs on either side and straddling him before you lowered yourself slowly onto his lap, your clothed cunt immediately pressing against his stiff crotch— and that’s when you realized the situation. Your body started warming up when Seonghwa placed his hands on your thighs, his fingers slowly slipping the dress upwards, his hands beginning to pet your thighs.
“Hwa,” you breathed out as you tried to push his hands away. “Not here—”
“Do you know what you’re doing to me, baby?” he purred, his nose brushing against your ear. “There’s no way I can wait. I need you right now.”
His hands slid up the bottom of your dress and cupped your asscheeks before clenching tightly, your hands flying to his shoulders to support yourself as you suppressed every single raunchy noise that threatened to leave your lips. You heard him inhale through his teeth before he bit his lip and gazed at you on his lap with hungry eyes.
“Baby, bite down on this for me,” Seonghwa asked softly as he held up the front of your dress by the hem up to your lips.
You did as he asked, giving you the nicest view of your bare breasts, waistline, and tiny thong which was practically useless as it revealed practically everything. Seonghwa ran his tongue over his lower lip as he stared at your body, his hands quickly working on his belt and pants, his cock springing up the second he pushed his underwear down. Before you could formally protest further, he pushed your barely-there-panties aside and slipped his cock in to your soaking wet pussy.
“Wow, look at that,” he whispered teasingly as he felt you tense up around him. “You want this just as much as I do, baby. You’re so fucking wet.”
Seonghwa’s first swear word of the day made tingles run down your spine. It was true— you desperately wanted him ever since you saw him in the distance with that outfit on and the cowboy hat on his head, but it was the fact that he was going to fuck you in public that scared you.
“Don’t worry, baby. This is private property, and even if people show up, they’ll just think we’re being lovey-dovey as long as you stay quiet…” Seonghwa whispered as he read your mind (God, you loved that he knew you so fucking well). “Unless you want everyone to hear you being fucked like a whore.”
Another wave of tingles surfed over your body, making you grip his shoulders even tighter. Blinking through the blurriness of your eyes, you locked eyes with Seonghwa and saw his flushed cheeks and red ears. Your lips got dangerously close to his, only for him to tease you by briefly brushing his lower lip against yours.
“Baby, open up,” he breathed out.
Hesitantly, you opened your mouth, and instead of Seonghwa kissing you, he grabbed a strawberry from the picnic basket and stuck it in between your teeth. Not going to lie, you were confused as hell first, but when you sunk your teeth into the strawberries, you couldn’t help but want more. And so, with his cock deep inside you, you continued to sit on his lap like a good girl and be his cockwarmer as he fed you strawberries.
While he was feeding you, he didn’t hold the strawberry properly, making strawberry juice drip down your lips and chin, little pink dots covering your exposed chest. Without a second to lose, Seonghwa ran his tongue over the juice on your chest before licking a slow stripe from the center of your chest over your collarbones and up your neck and chin before kissing you, his lips and tongue making the remnants of the strawberries taste even sweeter.
“Hwa,” you whined into his mouth as he kissed you hungrily, your hips antsy as you gyrated them against his.
“I got you, baby.”
His hands cupped the underside of your ass and started assisting you as he bounced you gently on his lap, the contact of your hips against his making low, quiet noises. His nose brushed against your neck as he dropped his head, his breathing getting shallower as you rode him at a steady pace, his hips bucking upwards occasionally.
But that wasn’t enough for neither him nor you. You nearly yelped as he leaned forward, knelt, and sat on his knees, his arms wrapping around your waist. His hat fell backwards when you ran your fingers through his hair and tugged at his roots, bringing his head up to look at you. You pressed your lips against his and hugged him tightly as he moved your body with his own sheer strength, his cock somehow going further and further inside you.
“Fuck, baby,” Seonghwa hissed as he broke off the kiss and hugged you to him. “I’m cumming!”
With that, Seonghwa gave you one final thrust before his cock throbbed inside you, his cum spurting inside you and filling you up. His cock remained inside you as the two of you fought to regain your breath, the stars in your eyes immediately clearing— you were so close, but not quite there, filling you with disappointment.
Your gentleman boyfriend, though, knew that you needed just a little more. He smiled gently at you and left a little kiss on the tip of your nose before saying, “Tell you what, baby. If you can keep my load inside you ’til we get back to the house, I’ll eat you out and fuck you until you can’t walk, okay?”
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tags:
@k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia
@dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa @frobin4ever
@sanhwajjong @certifiedmoa @therealcuppicake @yuyubeans @hyunukitty
@startlinglyoongi @hyukssunflower @chewyhotteoks @bsehindu @alexwritesfics
@woomyteez @skteezcursed @yessa-vie @sanglix @minkilicious
@isiloiale @ywtfvs @nvdhrzn @khjoongie98 @jaerisdiction
@ninoshome1 apply for the permanent taglist here!
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lilsmv1 · 1 day
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orange cat - OP81
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Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
Summary: What happens your neighbour's adorable orange cat starts to pay you daily visits?
Word count: 1k
London welcomed me with its perpetually gray skies and damp weather, a stark contrast to the sunny shores of California I had left behind. As I settled into my new apartment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness for the warmth of home.
For the first few weeks, I hardly saw my neighbours, lost in the shuffle of unpacking and adjusting to my new surroundings. But one persistent visitor soon made himself known – a vibrant orange cat that would perch itself on my windowsill, peering into my living room with curious eyes.
At first, I found it amusing, but as the days went by and the cat became a regular fixture, I grew concerned. Surely, someone must be missing their furry friend. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I scribbled a quick note on a yellow post-it, explaining the situation and tucking it under my neighbor's door. "Your cat seems to be visiting me often," I wrote. "Just wanted to let you know in case you're worried."
Days passed, and I received no response. I wondered if my neighbor had even seen the note or if they simply didn't care about their wandering pet.
But then, one evening, there was a soft knock on my door.
Opening the door, I found myself face to face with a handsome young man, his expression sheepish yet friendly. He held a small box in his hands, the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting from within.
"Hey, sorry to bother you," he began, his accent unmistakably Australian. "I'm Oscar, your neighbor from next door. I just wanted to apologize for my cat bothering you. And, well, to say thank you for looking out for him."
I couldn't help but smile at his genuine demeanor. "No problem at all, your cat is lovely, I was simply worried you might wonder where he was" I replied, accepting the box of pastries. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Oscar" I replied, introducing myself as well.
"Do you maybe wanna come in? I can make us some tea or coffee and we could eat the pastries you brought?" I added.
"I would love that!" replied Oscar with a warm smile.
From that moment on, Oscar and I struck up an unexpected friendship. We bonded over our shared love for his cat and baked goods, finding comfort in each other in the big city of London, so far from our respective homes. Oscar told me all about his work as a Formula One driver, and I could not help but be in awe of how passionate he was. I, on the other end, told him about the teaching opportunity that got me to move here, and I would often tell him cute stories from my classroom.
As weeks turned into months, our friendship deepened. Oscar proved to be not only a generous neighbor but also a reliable friend. Whether it was helping me fix a leaky faucet or lending a hand with heavy groceries, he was always there when I needed him.
Our weekly movie nights, whenever Oscar wasn't out of the country, became a cherished tradition, a welcome break from our everyday lives. We'd take turns picking films, debating over classics and hidden gems late into the night.
But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, I couldn't ignore the growing feeling in my chest whenever I saw Oscar. He was kind, funny, and undeniably attractive – qualities that drew me in despite my best efforts to keep my distance.
One day, as I scrolled through Twitter during a lazy afternoon, I stumbled upon something that caught me off guard. Pictures of Oscar, smiling brightly alongside a beautiful girl with long blonde hair.
A pang of jealousy shot through me, surprising in its intensity. I realised then, with startling clarity, that my feelings for Oscar ran deeper than I had initially thought. But it was too late – I was now pretty sure he was already taken, and I had no right to interfere.
Unable to shake off my newfound jealousy, I began to distance myself from Oscar, avoiding our usual interactions and retreating into solitude. But my sudden coldness did not go unnoticed.
One evening, there was a sharp knock on my door, and when I opened it, there stood Oscar, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern.
"What's going on with you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with hurt. "You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."
"I'm not" I replied defensively.
"Come on, don't give me that bullshit" replied a rather angry Oscar. "You've been avoiding me. Have I done something?" he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability.
I hesitated, the weight of my emotions heavy in the air between us. But then, with a surge of courage, I found myself blurting out the truth.
"I... I think I'm in love with you, Oscar," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "And seeing you with someone else... it hurts more than I thought it would."
For a moment, there was silence, the tension palpable. But then, to my surprise, Oscar stepped forward, his eyes burning with intensity.
"God, you can be so dense sometimes" he breathed
"Hum, excuse me?" I replied, clearly offended.
"The girl you're talking about, that's my new PR manager."
"Oh..."
"I thought I was being fairly obvious as to how I feel about you." he said softly, reaching out to cup my face in his hands.
And with that, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a heated and passionate kiss, leaving me breathless.
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midnightorchids · 2 days
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I love you and your writing. It makes me so happy to read your works!
Imagine Jason having his s/o move in with him. Imagine all the possibilities.
Like arranging the furniture together, showering together, taking turns cooking.
Or taking power naps together. I love me some soft Jason.
Omg stop!!! You’re literally so kind! Thank you for sending all these little scenarios, I always have so much fun writing them. Also, my apologies for getting back to you so late, I hope this little blurb makes up for it, enjoy reading!
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Jason stares at the small key in his large calloused hands and then at charcoal door in front of him. This is it, he thinks to himself. He runs his hands through his hair and then shifts his gaze to your face, it’s beaming with excitement. Jason tries to hold back his smile, but finds himself unable to do so. He reaches over to your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
He’s waited for this moment for a long time. He’s dreamt of owning a place with you, of days where the both of you will go to sleep together and you’ll still be there in the morning. He’s dreamt of making you breakfast and kissing your forehead before you go to work or school and then have you come right back home… to him.
Jason’s emotional honestly, there’s something so tender and domestic about the idea of building a life together in this apartment.
The apartment, it’s not very big and the walls are an awful shade of grey. The paint is chipping in some places and there’s some obvious water damage. But none of that matters because it’s yours. It’s your home and that thought alone is enough for you and Jason to be happy.
You’re both sitting in the empty kitchen, unpacking your boxes and Jason can imagine spending the rest of his life here with you.
He takes a mental picture of the moment, tucking it deep in his mind and engraving it in his heart. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since he walked in through the door, he feels content, at peace.
You and Jason spent weeks scavenging through different vintage shops to find the perfect decor and furniture. There were countless trips to Ikea and multiple trips to the mall.
All of it was coming together now.
The thought of saying “our home” instead of “my house” made Jason feel giddy. He finally had a place to call his own with a person who felt like serenity.
Hours go by and you’re still working on getting your new place sorted.
You’re both sprawled out on the living room floor, putting together your new coffee table. There’s screws scattered across the floor and bubble wrap on the couch. There’s music playing on one of your phones as the speaker is still packed away in one of the boxes.
“This is so much fun! It’s like building life size legos,” Jason suddenly exclaims and you stare at him unamused, the hours of working finally catching up to you.
“Shut up Jay! You’re talking too much, I lost my page again,” you reply looking back at the paper manual in your hands, trying to find your page again. Jason looks up at you with a small pout.
“Don’t be mean, you know I’m sensitive,” he tries to say seriously, but the little smile on his face says otherwise. you shuffle over to his side on the floor and ruffle his hair.
“Aw I’m sorry baby, I’ll be nicer,” you say, realizing it might be time to take a break. “Should we postpone building furniture for a bit, I’m starving.” His face lights up and before you know it, he’s already in the kitchen gathering ingredients to make you soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. There’s not much in the fridge, but he’ll make do with what’s there.
You stare at him from across the room and this time, it’s your turn to click a mental photograph of the moment. He looks beautiful in your new kitchen, his hair’s messy, it’s in his eyes and he takes a second to push away the bangs. Then, he continues working away near the stove, humming along to the song playing on your phone. You can’t help, but admire him. You look forward to seeing him like this forever.
You make your way over to the kitchen and take a seat on the island counter, opposite to the stove. Jason tosses the final bit of ingredients in the pot and lets everything simmer. He looks over at you, leaning against the counter. He crosses his large arms against his body, his face soft and relaxed.
“I’m really happy, you know,” he says, grinning, and you scrunch your face into a big smile.
“I know Jay, I’m so happy too.”
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xiaosfavqingxin · 1 day
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Pillow Talks // OM! Brothers Aftercare hcs
Cw: none really, just fluff after a scene because aftercare is SO important, based on a convo i had with one of my bsfs (mentions of rough sex, bite marks and hickeys)
Gender neutral reader!
A/n: I'll work on the requests soon i swear!
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- Lucifer -
Man is so so gentle with you after it (in contrast to just a few minutes earlier)
PRAISE !!!!
Would definitely clean the both of you up and give you one of his shirts to cuddle into
After making sure you're alright and doing well he would brew the both of you some tea
Asks you if you would like to listen to a specific record and if not, he'd just put on something calming
Definitely spends quite some time in bed with you, cuddling and talking about everything and nothing, only going back to his work when he's 100% sure you're mentally and physically alright
- Mammon -
Would not give a single fck about the mess the both of you made, you're immediately wrapped up in his strong arms
He'd definitely would shower you with innocent kisses all over
Naked cuddles!! I repeat, naked cuddles!!!
Would also make sure you have everything you need, not leaving your side for more than five seconds though
Cracked jokes about what just happened!!!
Would probably spend hours just lying in bed with you, the both of you just scrolling through Akuzon, voicing out your thoughts about certain items you stumble across (he takes mental note of everything you mention to be to you liking )
- Asmodeus -
Spa time!!! Bubble bath especially!!
Would totally rant about how beautiful you looked earlier
Cuddles in the bathtub, facemasks and candles
If you would be sore anywhere he would totally massage it
Washes your hair and body for you, he just wants you to relax
When he dries you off, he'll wrap you in the softest towels and carry you to bed after he sprayed you with his perfume just so you still smell like him
- Satan -
would definitely question if he was too rough on you
Totally kisses any marks or hickeys that he'd left and brush over them gently
Cleaning up kinda is teamwork, until you curl up next to him, scrolling through ur DDD a bit
A book in one hand, the other arm wrapped around you, keeping you close
Makes sure to wrap you up in a nice fuzzy blanket too, he doesn't want you to feel cold after all
You fall asleep before him, but he eventually gets tired too, the book is now on his face, you still cradled in his arm, your DDD dropped next to you
- Leviathan -
Asks you if you enjoyed it and if you felt good immediately
Admiring all the love marks hes left on you
Cleaning up and then he seats you in his lap in one of his hoodies
Also quite literally SHOWERS you in kisses, extremely flustered
It's your decision what you want to do, rather its just cuddling, watching anime or him playing a a game, or even playing something together
Man is clingy asf, he knows that the afterglow is a quite vulnerable state so he keeps you as close as possible
- Beelzebub -
No doubt, this man carries you to bed after he cleaned your up. Bridal style. No exeptions.
Tucks you in carefully and would feed you your favorite candy from the jar in his room
Keeps you in his arms until you are fast asleep, then quietly goes to clean up the kitchen
Would totally kiss the bite marks he left, probably even lick over them apologetically
He finishes that cake you had started only for you to wake up to an almost empty plate of it, and a very sorry Beel
- Belphegor -
It takes him a while before coming down from his high, so hes perhaps a bit quiet at first and just keeps his arms wrapped around you, processing in silence
Veeeeryyy sleepy afterwards, but also cold
Will probably get another fuzzy blanket after wiping the both of you down lazily
Naked cuddles part II
Gives a lot of small tired pecks and pulls the blanket over both of you
Hes not gonna let go of you this soon, but that's okay, the both of you will take a nap first anyway
Heya everyone, this is it for today (kinda short im sorry) these are actually my first hcs posted on here, enjoy!!!!
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zyonsay · 3 days
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Js came back from a mental health break to see ZYON REQS OPEN !!! How about a Loscar x male reader smut? I don't know if you write for Logan Sargeant since you don't have him in your list so— 😭 if not you can change the driver to Lando I don't mind, but the three of them are drunk and playing drunk truth or dare and things take a turn - 🔥
I dare you LN4&OP81
Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!
Summary: A game of truth or dare between you, Lando and Oscar takes a turn...
Reader: Male
Warnings: Suggestive, NSFW, Dude-bro language, Horsegirl-ified reader because i said so
Now playing: 'Runway Walk' by Demrick
AN: Hey there! i FINALLY finished this and icl, not my best work. BUT i hope y'all can still enjoy this!
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Loud chants echoed through the dimly lit bar. Your team members had picked you up and were now parading you around. The bar only had limited access to your equipe of elite show riders, a few close associates along with other familiar faces. Apparently, it was your lucky day, because your best friend finally had time to celebrate one of your many wins with you. Lando and yourself had been friends since diaper times and stuck together ever since. Even though you both were inseparable, your careers were demanding and didn’t offer you much time to hang out. He was now a rising F1 star, and you fought your way into prestigious show arenas, your schedules were now filled with training, media appointments and various other events. But, whenever you did find time to catch up, you always had a good time together. Not so recently he had introduced you to his teammate, and “friend”, Oscar. He’s a sweet guy, his smile felt like a little piece of sunshine and the swoop in his hair reminded you of gentle waves in the ocean. The chemistry between Lando and Oscar was kind of obvious, but you didn’t want to assume anything. That was until Lando had drunkenly admitted to his situationship.
The loud music boomed trough the doors as you stumbled out into the cold night air. Coordinating your wobbly legs while giggling uncontrollably was difficult. Very difficult. Lando had noticed your struggles and wrapped an arm around your waist while dragging you to the nearest bench. Maybe if you were sat, you wouldn’t fall on your face. A soft breeze blew trough the city and a slight shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t actually cold, just refreshing enough. Lando had also sat down by now and leaned his head back while closing his eyes. Your gaze flickered to him, the street lanterns painted the contours of his face in orange hues. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the poetic mood you’ve found yourself in, but now felt like the right time to tell him how you feel. You’ve always loved him, but you were also scared of telling him, or anyone for that matter. Besides. You two had very busy lives and barely got to see each other, so how would a relationship work out? But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. Not when he was looking so beautiful. How do you say this? How do you confess your feelings without sounding like an absolute idiot. Gathering all your courage, your lips parted, and the first word was ready to leave them. “Y/n. I gotta tell you something.”, his eyes were still closed, and his head was still leant back. A frustrated sigh fell from his figure, and he shifted his seat. Now he was looking at you, God, those beautiful eyes. They were so sincere and looked like a fresh margarita at the beach. “I- “, his gaze avoided your own for a second before his eyes darted up to yours again. “I think I might be into men. Like in a gay way.” That was the most bro-dude way to say that, but it sure suits him. A small smile crept onto your face. “Thanks for trusting me.”, you grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Coming out to anyone is difficult, especially when you can’t predict how they’ll react. This was worth a lot to you.
“…and I sort of have a thing going right now,” Shit. SHIT. What? If it is some random dude, you swore to yourself that- “with Oscar.” Your brain must’ve short circuited right then and there. Your expression must’ve given your shock away, because Lando looked really worried all of a sudden. “…you okay mate?”, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. Quickly, you need to react, otherwise he’ll think you’re a weirdo. “Yeah, totally.”, you gulped, “I just didn’t expect you to start something with your teammate.” Absently, he scratched his arm. “Yeah, i gotta be careful. You know, with PR and stuff.”
Obviously, Oscar is also attending the afterparty. As much as you wanted to dislike him for getting together with your crush, he was so nice that you’d feel like an asshole. As sour as the taste in your mouth was, you were happy for them. They seem to fit together really well, and you couldn’t be mad because your best friend’s relationship is working out, that’s just rude. Nevertheless, the little touches they shared filled you with jealousy. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Just so you know, I have your favorite white with me. In case you wanna celebrate some more later.”, you could basically hear the smug smile in Lando’s voice. Tempting. Maybe you weren’t feeling so sour after all.
Without much care, you left your shoes somewhere in the hallway, while leading Oscar and Lando towards the balcony. Usually when you were travelling around for competitons, you’d rent a hotel room, since there wasn’t really any point in staying longer than you had to. But for the finale of your season, you wanted to enjoy the beautiful city, before departing again. While your Horse was being flown back to your home country, you decided to rent a holiday home. It was relatively close to the coast, so you’d hear the lively waves when opening the windows. Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of shuffling cards. More specifically, a deck of UNO cards. Wait what. Why was he shuffling an UNO deck? Where did he even get that from?
“Nah dude, put that back down.” Lando slurred while lazily swatting Oscars hands away. Disgruntled, but indifferent enough, Oscar put the deck of cards back down. “Wild idea: lets revert back to seventh grade and play truth or dare.”, Lando’s face lit up at that. In his mind, he was already going trough all the evil dares he could make you guys do. “We’re literal adults.”, Oscar deadpanned. For a moment, it looked like Lando was thinking about something. “Well, let’s make things more interesting. Every time you pick truth or won’t do the dare, you take off one clothing piece.” He held up one finger, so it was clear that you wouldn’t be stripping completely naked in seconds. That’s an awfully odd request, but with the taste of wine still lingering on your tongue, you could care less. And so, it begun.
“Y/n, truth or dare?”, his intentions were pretty clear, but you wanted to toy with him for a little. “Dare.”, you took another sip of the fourth or fifth Bottle of white wine, that you three have been passing around like biscuits. “An easy one to start with, do a handstand.” Hah, that was a piece of cake. Scrambling off the rattan lounge, you readied yourself to do a handstand against the wall. A free-standing one might be a bit too confident in your current state. With a swift motion you hurled your legs into the air and banged them against the wall, while you did your best to not flop onto the floor. Considering how dizzy you were, you did a good job. “Impressive!”, Oscar giggled. There was nothing to laugh about, the bastard was up next. “Truth or Dare, Os?”, he was quick to answer. “Dare.” Bingo. As rarely as you and Lando got to catch up, he does talk about Oscar often. This man doesn’t even know hoe much you know about him. “I dare you to whistle.”, his smile faded. He was ninety percent sure you were aware of the elephant in the room. He sighed before pulling his shirt off. “I can’t whistle.”
Admittedly, this was much more fun than you initially thought it’d be. It must’ve already been something past midnight, but you guys were chatting away on the balcony. By now, your and Oscar’s shirts and socks had gone, while Lando was barely left in his briefs. “Truth or Dare?”, Lando intently looked at you. “Dare.” Now you’ve gotten yourself stuck in his trap. “I dare you to kiss me.”, now that made you stop in your tracks. “Dude, I’m not a homewrecker.” Oscar’s hickory eyes had a playful glint in them. “I’ll allow it.”, he leant against the backing of the lounge, readjusting his seat. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest. This is what you wanted for so long, but this feels taboo. Nevertheless, you leant forward and slid a hand behind your friend’s neck. Pulling him closer your lips met his and a contempt sigh left Lando. You felt Oscars eyes on you, they were burning holes into your skull. After all you were kissing his fling right now. The world seemed as if it was melting apart into a big mess of colors, but that all stopped when Lando gently pulled away. With slightly shaky hands, you settled back into a comfortable sitting position. “Oscar.”, he hummed, “Truth or dare?” He exaggeratedly tapped his finger against his chin. “Truth.” He now looked directly into your eyes. “Why didn’t you have a problem with me kissing Lando.”, his eyes widened at your question. For a moment he seemed to think for a good answer, but instead of speaking up, he glanced over at Lando. The brit loudly gulped, it sounded almost comical, before speaking up. “So, the thing is…” His, whatever Oscar was to him, tapped him on the knee, encouraging Lando to speak up. “I like you. Like in a gay way.” Dumbfounded, you shifted your gaze from Oscar to Lando and then back again at the pale Aussie. “And you’re ok with that?!”, you pointed your finger towards Oscar. “You see, we actually wanted you to... join our relationship.” His tone was unsure, and he kept searching Lando’s gaze.
Now you were officially flabbergasted. This must be a fever dream, right? There was no way this was real right now.
Obviously, it was, because now you were sat here with Lando kissing down your neck and Oscar pressed up behind you, squeezing your thighs, hips and waist. You leant your head backwards against Oscar’s shoulder, whining quietly. You whispered sharply, “I dare you to take those damn pants off.”, while fiddling with the buckle of his belt. Oscar chuckled lightly before slipping his pants off and propping himself up behind you again. Carefully, you reached behind you and felt his hard member in your hand. With gentle motions, you began palming him as best as possible. Lando smiled against your neck, his eyes darting up to meet Oscar’s gaze. His tanned hand tugged on your underwear before swiftly slipping underneath it. You gasped at the tight feeling of his hand around your dick. Slowly but surely, he started pumping up and down, meanwhile he continued his artwork of hickeys along your neck and chest bone. Not wanting to neglect his hard cock, you wrapped your hand around it and pressed your thumb over the tip. He exhaled sharply. Oscar leaned in close to your ear. “You wanna suck them?” Stuck in an endless loop of pleasure and torture, you could only whine as a pathetic attempt at an answer.
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hewwokitti3 · 2 days
Text
Manifest
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JJ Maybank x reader
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this is literally the world’s most satisfying fic because i’ve always said im kitty in a bunny-esc disguise. It’s my first time taking this seriously and actually trying so feedback would be nice :3 also thank you to @dulc3vida and @rafeysdoll for pre-reading this.
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The lights in the grocery store are always too bright. Their fluorescent hum always poisons the air. You look at the frozen food, scanning the prices. Only interrupted by the boy who has been following you around the store for ages, asking about the most nonsensical things, “Okay, okay, wha'bout the bracelet? How’d ya u get that?”
You blink before answering, “oh umm… yeah i made it”
He hums in surprise- leaning in to look at it closer, snaking his fingers around your wrists to raise it to his level.
“ummm… a few years ago…” You say, tentatively pulling back your wrist, still focused on the foods in front of you.
“a few? damn. it looks pretty new. what’s it for?” He's leaning over you now, seemingly unfamiliar with the concept of personal space with how he's now twirling your hair around his finger. You pull your head back.
“just… wanted some jewelry…” You neglected to tell him it was because the girls back in elementary school made fun of you for not having any accessories
He pauses for a second, trying to find a way to continue the conversation, unfamiliar with having to put in effort- actual effort- into flirting, "so jus 'cuz?"
You nod “just ‘cause” he looks at you up close for the first time. He’s seen you around the island, vaguely remembering Pope mentioning you in passing but this is the first time he’s had a full conversation with you. To his credit, he HAS noticed you but now he sees the bags under your eyes, it doesn’t take way from your beauty but it does scream that you don’t sleep well.
“ya get much sleep?” he asks, he’s still staring at you. not to mention it’s the most he’s seen you up close. he’s seeing you, really seeing you, for the first time. his brows furrow ever so slightly.
“mmm? - i ummm.” You shake your head in surprise “Oh I just got off my shift at the club on Figure 8. So 'm a bit sleepy”
he notices your exhaustion, even with the make up and hair. it’s in your eyes, your demeanor, your speech. he crosses his arms and leans against the wall, letting that flirtatious edge to his tone fade a bit. “ya shouldn’t be workin' like that, ya know. ya lookin real tired ma” and he says it like he really means it. like maybe he actually cares, which is insane… but maybe he does.
“oh i- i need the money” or rather your mom does. She’s been sick and her care has been draining your bank account for years. Her benefits only pay for so much, especially since most of the money gets stolen by your biological father (sperm donor) who can’t even be bothered to show up consistently, only rearing his head from his hiding spot every month around payday.
his tone instantly changes again. he looks away, his body stiffening. he doesn’t try to hide that he’s upset, it’s all in his expression. “know ya need money kit, i’ve talked to Pope enough to know what’s up, yeah?”
“Oh” You shift from foot to foot. You remember Pope, he’s the only person who could outdo you on tests, mainly because you’re a sleep-deprived mess nowadays. But you give him a run for his money even so.
“yeah, sugar. m'not that stupid.” he teases even though he looks like he’s about to explode. “so ya really be workin’ all the hours you can, huh?”
You nod. 'Why was JJ Maybank of all people talking to me anyway, much less calling me babe' you think, 'it’s not like we’re in the same circle, our only connection, Pope Heyward, doesn’t seem a good enough reason to start a conversation in the middle of a grocery store'
JJ crosses his arms and leans against the wall again, tapping his foot as he considers. when he finally speaks he seems more frustrated than flirtatious, a notable contrast to his usual manner. “so, you’re like, barely sleepin’, right?”
You continue comparing prices in your head, getting food for the week “Umm… how do you know that?”
“Um… i have eyes,” he says, mocking you to a degree, as if this is obvious. “you look tired. how much you work every week?”
You blink owlishly, too tied and over stimulated for this conversation, “A lot”.
“hmm- so… lemme get this straight,” JJ reaches his hands out slightly making a frame with his fingers. “the boss knows ya got your mom to take care of," he pushes he hands out with every phrase, "plus- plus ya don’t get more than like, 4 hours of sleep a night, and you probably don’t eat much either ‘cause you’re, y’know… working and…” his tone trails off. Putting his hands down, “who does the work around your house? the chores?”
“i do” you mumble, face twisting in confused annoyance.
“i can tell.” his tone is like he just realized something. “ya don’t have anyone who can help you? no other family?”
Your hands tighten around the small cart you’re pushing around. Family. Truthfully, no. You don’t have anyone. A father (or rather sperm donor as you like to call him) somewhere that you’re sure of. An aunt who lives somewhere in South Carolina but in the grand scheme of things, no. You don’t have family. “No” You answer plainly.
“damn,” he mumbles as he watches you, almost like he didn’t realize he said it aloud. he’s staring right at you, he’s still and quiet. “and nobody, like, helps you with that? gotta just do it alone?”
Your eye twitches. Why do you care? you want to ask him. “Yep” you say instead.
“yeah, but—“ he pauses like he’s about to continue but then he stops himself. " okay okay, i have a question. n be honest, alright?”
You’re beyond caring at this point, scanning the items in your cart and calculating the prices in your head. 'Ramen noodles, pizza, a loaf of bread… i have to put something back' “Okay” you respond.
“how do you do it?” he shakes his head again and his eyes are intense. “i mean- really, how do you just do it? all this…” he shrugs and gestures to you, to your cart. “how do you just keep going when you’re barely sleeping, barely eatin’, working your ass off?"
You shrug “Don’t have another choice” You’re right of course, the breadwinner in your family, since 14.
his eyebrows rise again “who’s gonna take care of your mom when you get sick? what are you gonna do if you end up fucking passin' out or somethin' man?”
“Just gotta push through it” You sigh as you put back the frozen Pizza. A diet of bread and ramen noddles is gonna be it for me this week. $3.79.
he watches you do this and seems to be doing some mental math. he takes two frozen pizzas from the shelf beside you and tosses each one into your cart.
after he’s done, he crosses his arms again and stares at you. “so, you’re gonna work and work and work and put yourself through all this bullshit until one day you’re burnt out? is that the plan?”
“why’d you do that?” You ignore his question in favor of putting back the frozen pizzas, You want them, you really do but can’t afford them. or at least that's what you wanna tell yourself.
his eyes narrow. “cuz those pizzas probably have twice the nutrition value of the rest of your damn shit. you’re gonna need them if you’re gonna keep up that ridiculous work schedule shit.”
You eye him “well it doesn’t matter, I can’t afford them anyway”
“and why’s that?” he asks, but he already knows the answer. your financial struggles are pretty damn clear, especially to someone who’s aware of your situation.
“i just can’t okay!?” Maybe you could’ve been kinder, especially when he’s just trying to help in his own JJ way.
he watches you, his gaze boring into you. there’s no way he doesn’t get your financial struggle; that’s obvious. but he pushes anyway. “you can’t afford it? or ya can’t let yourself spend the money 'cuz of your mom?”
“both” You mumble as you make sure you have the money for the pitiful haul.
his eyes are sharp as he looks at you, fighting the urge to make you look at him, “no, i’m askin' you; why don’t you think you deserve these? you have to have a decent meal eventually or you’re going to hurt yourself in the long run.” He shrugs his shoulders as if it were the most obvious fact in the world, and he was the genius who discovered it.
His tone is sobering compared to his usual playfulness . “It’s not a question of deserve” You say as you roll your cart to the register “Can’t afford it. Even if i want to”
“but you could make room for it in your budget,” he says. “you can make room for them, but you don’t want to. because if you did, that would mean… spendin' money on yourself. Hmm? puttin' your needs in front of your mom’s, right?” He points at you while he speaks, shaking his finger as if he’s scolding you.
You’re silent at his words, opting to load the two items into the checkout instead.
he watches you in silence as you scan and pay for your groceries. he speaks again. “your mom gets her meds before you do, right?”
You freeze at that. your blood boils. You’ve only ever told one person of that detail. Pope fucking Heyward. That bitch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”
"think it’s pretty damn obvious what i’m talkin' about,” he says, his tone harsh. “you work your ass off, take care of your mom, and you’re lucky if you get to eat once a day. ya put her meds first, don’t you?”
You walk to my rickety bike. Rusty, painted pink by a kind neighbor, a small basket in the front “Why do you care?”
“why do i care that you are putting your life in danger to take care of a sick mother?” he repeats back to you. “why do i care that- that you’re starving yourself and running off of a couple hours of sleep a night to make sure that she’s alright? why do i care about that?”
“No one else does” You fumble with the nex- to-useless chain on the bike “You used to not care. Keep it that way” You swing your leg over the bike and take off, leaving JJ Maybank staring off after you. You don’t look back.
he watches you leave, frustration and concern etched in his expression. eventually, he sighs and mutters under his breath as he watches you round a corner. “goddamn it, kittycat,” he mutters under his breath. “goddamn it.”
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thank you for reading cuties!!! send ur thoughts bc I'm so nervy to be posting this AHHH but!!! But Im very proud of this lil fic because its my little brain child. (A lil bit inspired by @princessbrunette and @starfxkr for kitty!reader and I think one of them wrote about kitty meeting JJ in a grocery store and I thought it was the cutest shit bc who doesn't dress up to go to the store in case there's a cute guy) and thank you again to @dulc3vida and @rafeysdoll for helping me out KISSES!!!!
<3
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149 notes · View notes
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Fucking chuuya in moris room (the the the one with the big ass window and like, where 15 happened pls tell me yk what I mean) fucking him over moris desk while you can hear him approaching, and he’s trying to cover up his moans n shit, pls Nini understand me, I’m already struggling 🙁🙁🙁
But chuuya
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Literally pls I’m so atrocious for this little slippery twink Plsplsplspls please nini, more chuuya
Brooooo 😭😭 I literally love you <33
Dom!reader x sub!chuuya
Warning: exhibition, pegging (can be read as a dick), a little manhandling, hair pulling, degrading
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How did things turn out this way? Never would chuuya have guessed he’d do something this atrocious, this risky. All he remembered was agreeing to something, before you pulled him into this room. Even if he wanted to think about it, his mind was somewhere else, preoccupied and focusing on the scenario in front of him. Colourful lights shone through the huge windows of the room, lighting the room up and exposing everything. Soft pantings as well as the occasional yelp filled the huge chamber, there was almost an echo due to the size of the office.
The male arched his back, bending over the long and solid table. His hands gripping the other end of the desk, shoulders raised to his ears and torso flat on the furniture. Your hands were on his waist, holding him down. Some of your weight was on him, rendering him unable to move. There was nothing he could do in this situation, not when it was such a vulnerable and helpless position.
Chuuyas eyes rolled back when he noticed you pressing your hips against his, burying your dick even deeper inside him. His tongue hung out, droll dripping onto the table, dirtying it. “Such a perverted boy, arent you enjoying it too much?” You whispered into his ear, hands squeezing his waist gently. Another shudder coursed through his body, all those sensations were getting to him. First your delightful touch, then your beautiful voice casting spells onto him, as well as the pleasure of taking you whole.
He clenched, his entrance tightening around you while moans erupted from his throat. You pulled back before pounding into his wet and needy hole again, sending another shudder down his spine. “Aahh..! Fu-fuck..! You are the, mHmM- perverted one..- uggGh..” the male gasped, feeling the humiliating take over him. This was so inappropriate and.. embarrassing- ugh, his thoughts weren’t helping him at all. How did he even muster up the courage to do this in his boss’ room?
An especially rough trust pulled him out of his day dream, followed by a high pitched whimpers, “mhMM-aAAHHHhhnGn..!! Y/n..!” He gasped out your name, back arching even more now. The thought of doing this in the office of someone else was scary, het also arousing, he couldn’t deny that aspect.
Though he felt his heart dropping when he heard something from beneath the door, it sounded like voices. Not just one, but multiple. For a split second, he felt the world stopping. As if fate was playing a cruel game. When that second passed, all that filled his senses were immense pleasure provided by none other than you. Your dick kept hitting all his sweet spots, rendering him to a mess who can’t even think straight.
“Ah.. y/n..! So-someone, mhHHmnggh, is commMMIINngG..!” You paused a little too, caught off guard by his comment. Though instead of stopping, you leaned down and said, “then you just have to finish soon, chuuya, or else I won’t stop.” His eyes widened, were you serious..? It would make such a bad look and awkward if mori were to see him in such a state. What if Elise is with him too? How can you be so irresponsible!
What he didn’t know was that mori had a last second meeting today, you made sure that nothing will disrupt your alone time with your lover. There was no need to tell him yet though, maybe if he was getting really desperate. Instead to slowing down, you speed up. Both hands now grabbing his arms and holding him behind him tightly. “Remember what I told you, chuuya~ you wouldn’t want rumours to spread no?”
“Ah.. no, you are so-mHHMNngHhhh, meannnn..!” Hair stuck to his pretty and blushed face. Tears started rolling down his face when you pulled on his hair. Even though it was humiliating and shameful to the core, he just couldn’t not enjoy it. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth while he accepted your challenge. Nodding his head slightly as he mumbled, “keep going..! I luvve it..<3”
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Hiii! Anon here who asked
"2, 15, 21, 23, 42 and 65 smut prompts with Portgas D Ace, pretty please <3"
Can you just do: 2, 15, 24 and 42 smut prompts with Portgas D Ace and fem reader instead of everything else then? If no, that's also understandable <3
Also, have a lovely day!
p.s.: you deserve all the hugs in the world <333
be happy hooman :)
AHHHHHHHHHHH thank you for being so patient with my dumb ass, I really, really appreciate it. I'm going to assume that you meant 23 instead of 24 ((because that's what you asked for previously)) I hope that's okay! I hope you enjoy :D
Smut Prompts
Prompts 2 + 15 + 23 + 42
cw. smut, penetrative sex, body worship, light breeding kink, slight temperature play, squirting, creampie ((this is quite vanilla lol)), female reader
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Ace’s body was scorching hot to the touch. It felt like you were going to suffocate beneath him, bare body stuck against the sweat soaked bedsheet and the sweltering heat of Ace’s naked skin. You could feel the perspiration dotting your brow as every hair on the nape of your neck stood up in anticipation. Your breath hitched as you felt warm, large hands roam the expanse of your body, your skin prickling with goosebumps despite being bathed in the naked flames of a burning forge.
A warm hum stirred in Ace’s throat as he languidly rolled his hips, burying his cock deeper into the soused walls of your pussy as you trembled beneath him. Warmth tickled your spine and pooled rapidly in the pit of your stomach, your hands clasping the back of Ace’s neck as your fingers curled and pulled at the baby hairs lining his nape.
"You look so pretty" Ace murmured with a husky purr of your name. "So beautiful."
His large palms smoothed over your thighs and hips, slowly crawling up your body as he continued to bump his hips into yours. Your eyelashes fluttered over your burning cheeks, eyes threatening to slip close as the hot coil in the pit of your stomach twisted tighter to each wavering breath. You could hear your pulse drumming loudly in your ears as your heart fluttered wildly in your chest, close to leaping up into your throat as the tips of Ace’s fingers left a trail of fire in their wake as they danced along your body. They lingered between your sticky thighs, beads of slick rolling down the plush insides as he felt the place where your bodies were intimately joined in fervid rapture. Another soft hum stirred in his chest, the sound bordering on a delighted purr as his hands continued to roam your body. A spine-tingling shiver wracked your body when you felt a puff of hot air against the hollow of your throat as Ace dragged his bruised lips across your skin, lazily mouthing at your neck as he buried his cock deeper inside you.
"We fit together so perfectly" Ace breathed into the crook of your neck. "Like two puzzle pieces."
You whined his name as his hands squeezed the soft pudge of your belly, kneading at your flesh like a contented cat as your skin spilled between his digits. The tips of your ears felt hot as you twisted beneath him, his soft words of praise making your blood simmer hotly in your veins. His hands continued to paw at your soft stomach, thumbs dragging along the sensitive skin of your v-line as his teeth nipped at your jaw. Your hands tangled in his mop of dark hair, your chest heaving and soft tits bouncing as your pert nipples rubbed sensually against the hard muscles of his chest, your back arching as his cock carved a path deeper into you. You could feel the clap of his pelvis against the pearl sitting pretty at the top of your pussy, the bundle of nerves flushing to life from the delicious friction. Your tongue felt heavy as you tried to peel it off the roof of your mouth, throat bobbing as you swallowed thickly and tasted the desire in the back of your throat. You could barely think past the thick fog clouding your mind as Ace squeezed your belly yet again, his fascination almost maddening as another spike of pleasure left you feeling rather breathless. His voice vibrated against your skin when he spoke, tongue tasting the perspiration clinging to your skin as his pearly white teeth followed the path of his tongue.
"Want a put a baby right here" Ace said, the large palm of his hand pressing down on your stomach. "Will you let me?"
It felt like your insides turned to mush around the shape of his cock, plush walls fluttering around his girth as the pressure in your core started to bubble to the surface. You started to nod along to his words, fingers pressed hard into his scalp as you threatened to rip the roots of his hair out. A moan tickled the back of his throat as you mewled with bliss beneath him, legs loosely wrapping around his waist and ushering him closer as you dug your feet into the beautiful dip of his back.
"Please" you whispered hoarsely, voice straining at the edges. "Please Ace, put a baby in me."
You could swear the temperature in the room just skyrocketed and the blistering heat almost made you choke. Ace’s lips suddenly captured yours in a searing kiss, his tongue prying apart the seam of your lips as he whispered a litany of ‘thank you’ into the hot cavern of your mouth. His musky scent tickled your nose as you breathed deeply, a string of soft moans crawling out of your throat as he sucked your tongue into his own mouth. The pace of his hips only increased a fraction as he thrust into you, the tip of his cock grazing against the soft, gummy patch inside of you that made stars swirl in your vision. He jammed his thumb against your twitching clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves in tight circles as he continued to worship your body, praises of your name muffled against your kiss swollen lips like a prayer.
Your feet kicked at his back as the smouldering fire in your stomach was stoked into fiercer flames, the pressure intense and threatening to break something inside of you at a moments notice. You writhed beneath the hot press of Ace’s body, your pussy slobbering filthily around his cock as you tried to suck him deeper, desperate to feel him pressed against the raw nerve inside you that was about to snap. You parted from his swollen lips with a heavy gasp, a hiccup of pleasure stuck in your throat as tears pricked the corner of your dazed eyes.
"Ace" you whined. "Gonna cum. Gonna cum really hard."
Ace gently hushed you, holding your gaze with his bright stare as he rubbed soothing circles against your belly.
"It’s okay, pretty baby" he reassured. "I got you. You can cum."
You threw your head back into the safe confines of your pillow, your lips parted around a loud cry that echoed around your stuffy bedroom as the coil in your stomach shattered. Your pussy spasmed around Ace, your clit twitching violently against his rough thumb as your veins were flooded with white hot relief. Your juices spilled forth in thin, translucent threads, drooling around his cock as he continued to rut against you like a dog in heat. Ace fought to keep his eyes uncrossed as he groaned, your snug pussy squeezing him so tight as he smothered the head of his cock against the most sacred part of you. Your body continued to twitch in the aftermath of your pleasure as the push of Ace’s hips came to an abrupt halt, cock buried to the hilt inside of you as he came with a loud grunt. His cock kicked with each rope of his viscous seed that painted your walls, the heat his body provided occupying your hazy mind as you were filled to the brim. Your nerves continued to zap you as he pumped every last drop of his seed into your greedy pussy, your snug walls milking him until he was completely dry. 
The warmth overflowed and dribbled down your quaking thighs, your pussy still clenching tight around Ace’s cock as it kept your centre plugged and stuffed full. His hard pants mingled with your own laboured breathing, his clammy skin sticking to yours as wisps of dark hair stuck to the side of his freckled cheeks. He trailed wet kisses over your chin, trying to coax you out of your stupor and draw your gaze to him once more. Your head eventually tipped as you gazed down at him through lidded eyes, head still swirling up in the clouds as your nerves had yet to settle. Your grip on his hair eased as you massaged your fingers along his scalp, teasing the knots out of his wild hair with a warm smile. He rubbed his hands against your full, round belly, a hum of content bubbling up your throat as his hands worshipped your body. He rested his chin between the valley of your breasts, a wide grin lighting up his features.
"Are you full? Do you need more?"
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The creator had a child but refuses to speak:
Just between Us
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There is more than 1 person with star pupils in teyvat, tsaritsa. You work with one of them too...
Read also: Kaeya gets blamed for dainsleif's baby
Wc: 700
Giving birth is supposed to be a happy experience, maybe that is why you chose mondstadt, whenever you thought about the land that welcomed you it brought a smile to your face.
It was supposed to go smoothly in the cathedral overseen by Barbara and nurses, then next morning the archons would visit one by one and share a meal while planning how the next years would go. But seemingly a remark like ‘such odd pupils, like stars in the sky’ and an unfortunate passerby had you running to avoid a murder.
“Tsaritsa, let Kaeya go” you yelp as you run out of the cathedral and push the multitude of people circling them.
There were some knights pushing people away, just in case a slash of her sword would reach far enough towards the crowd to hurt civilians, some others trying to defuse the situation that came seemingly out of the blue, and seeing how the long haired woman didn't stop her slashes some people started dragging children away, already expecting a public execution.
Hearing your voice, people started moving away. Hoping for you to be able to save their beloved captain.
Some eyes started to wander to the cathedral door when a short blonde girl came out but stood by the arch, a newborn in her arms. The older adults would fawn over him on any other occasion.
A beautiful baby. A beautiful wide eyed baby. A star eyed baby.
Running up to her you grab her right arm, high in the sky and ready to strike down with a slash. Pulling her arm away gives kaeya enough time from the blows and slashes to properly stand up and put some space between them.
Now the few people who noticed started whispering and gossiping as they just now found the reason for her wrath. For both of them to have blue eyes would be a coincidence, maybe even his dark blue hair too, but his star pupils? That is almost a confirmation for anyone with eyes.
“Stop this I said!” Your voice comes hoarse enough that you can feel the itch in your throat, not used to you raising your voice to any degree tsaritsa's hold on her sword faltered enough for you to push it away.
“How could I! When he dishonored you and never dared to step up until proof was on his face” now without her weapon the only sharp thing she could throw at him were hurtful words.
“FIRST OF ALL, I was not ‘dishonored’ whatever happened I fully intended for and second how would you feel now if I told you he is not the father”
Her eyes widen and face pales to match snow as she asks, dread pooling in her eyes “was it…”
“No. It wasn't Pierro either” she sighs slightly calmer after getting assurance, some part of her never stopped doubting that meeting where she left you two alone for some hours. “But then… who?”
“Who it was doesn't matter. This child is mine foremost. Will you go inside and meet us for breakfast or do you want to keep up this fruitless manhunt?” you hold her hand, trying to reach her.
“My apologies, your grace… ” she closes her eyes and turns to the cathedral, the rest of the archons looking at her.
Now that you are sure she would go there you turn to Kaeya, a long but superficial slash going across from his ribs to his shoulder plus some dark spots where she digged her heels that would surely bruise badly tomorrow.
“Didn't expect such a workout this early”
“I am so sorry, I wouldn't have thought she would go hunting people down so soon”
He laughs a bit but shakes his head “it isn't like you told her to do it” but after he finishes speaking he looks into your eyes “so… star eyes”
“Yes, if you want you could meet him later… when the tsaritsa leaves” you joke making him laugh and he leaves to change clothes, his shirt almost slit out of his body.
Before you turn back to the cathedral you catch a blond head peeking from behind one of the pillars, familiar blue eyes making you smile.
Tonight you would leave a window open so someone could meet their child.
"Did you get tired already or do you have to burn any more energy?"
"shut it, don't act like you didn't want to kill him at first"
"I was about to do the same but you were already grabbing your sword"
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HII can u write a fic or blurb about lando with a west asian girlfriend?? like him obsessing over her hair and features, learning about her culture and stuff, tysm ily!!
+ I think I typed down west Asian in my ask but I meant east 😭😭 if I said it correctly ignore this pls🙏🙏
Note: it's okay! No worries 🫶
"You're so beautiful, Y/N", Lando said as he brushed your hair behind your ear, smiling at the way it cascaded and smoothly guided down his finger.
"Stop it", you blushed, trying to hide your face on his naked chest, suddenly feeling shy as you heard his compliments despite what you had just done.
"But you are!", he argued, "your hair is so soft, your cheeks are one of my favourite places to kiss your face, but these lips are my favourite one", he kissed you, "and I love nuzzling my face on your neck because I get to kiss all the way from your jaw to your cheekbones", he did as he said, moving slightly to accommodate your bodies.
"You're handsome too", you smiled, kissing all over his face and tracing an invisible line to connect his freckles and moles.
"Not as beautiful as you, though", he tsked, smiling before kissing your lips.
.
"Baby, I have a surprise for you!", Lando said as he heard you come back home from work, "close your eyes!", he said as he stopped you in the hallway, not wanting you to go into the living room on your own.
"Oh, this sounds fancy!", you smiled, kissing his lips in a small greeting before closing your eyes, "lead the way and make sure I don't bump into anything, please", you giggled as he took your hands in his.
"So, you know how you broke the bowls last week? And the mug a couple of weeks ago", he began and he could see the blood rushing to your cheeks.
"I didn't do it on purpose, and I went to the shop to get new ones, but the lady said their next order is only arriving later this week!", you reasoned.
"I know you didn't, beautiful", he said softly, "anyway, I thought this week's date night could be at home instead and we could do Kintsugi", he sounded unsure of the pronunciation but he still went with it as you opened your eyes, seeing bags of broken ceramic on your dining table along with other supplies, "I saved the pieces that broke because I wanted to do this since I saw those kits in the shop we usually go to", he smiled.
"I thought you just didn't want me to get hurt", you squeezed his hands as you looked at the set up.
"Yes, that's partially true, but I've also wanted to save it because I thought we could do this - and I didn't feel like going out tonight because I wanted you all to myself and I think we have enough pieces to keep us busy - thanks to your butter fingers", he joked.
"Hey!", you pulled on his ear, "it's not like I wanted to drop them - those bowls are my favourites! Your mother got them for my birthday!", you added.
"Let's give them a new look then, shall we?", he said, "but you'll have to teach me how your grandmother taught you to do it because I'm only so good with craft work like this", he smiled, kissing the top of your head before you got ready for a hands on date night idea.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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f0point5 · 11 hours
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As if you couldn't turn Max watching her breathe into a masterpiece, don't lie🙄 idk maybe they're driving around in her new car and they coincidentally see Elliot😂 would be a nice reprieve from *clenched teeth* freddie
Sooo.
I tried to incorporate a bit of Max watching her just breathe because it’s funny. But also Elliot. But also the car.
But also mostly I was just freaking out because the male perspective is so alien to me. This might suck. We’re going to be KIND if it sucks because I’m just a girl okay men don’t make sense to me.
Anyway, I’m deciding to name this one because this is what I was listening to when I wrote it.
✨set during winter break✨
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Call It What You Want To
“How do you take this long to get ready?” Max groans in frustration, dragging his hand over his face.
He’s been waiting 45 minutes. Not the longest he’s ever waited for you, but he’s been looking forward to this night out for two whole days. After everything that’s gone on in the last couple of weeks, and how none of that is likely to be resolved before Testing next week, he could really use a drink or twelve.
“I’m almost done,” he hears you call back, your tone telling him you’re unbothered by leaving him waiting. “Do you want everyone to think you have an ugly girlfriend?”
Max opens his mouth to reply but closes it just as quickly. What is he supposed to say to that? That no one on earth has ever thought his girlfriend is anything less than breathtakingly beautiful, so much so that it stopped him for thinking you could ever be his girlfriend more than once? That sometimes during a race he looks at the tv screens on the track in case you’re on camera? That whenever he passes the picture of you in his hallway he thinks he’d have hung it up even if he didn’t know you, because you’d still be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen? No. He’s not saying any of that. Three months is way too soon to let you know that you could use his balls as earrings. It’s not like you need a bigger head.
“I want my girlfriend to get to the club before it closes,” he shouts, stifling a smile. It’s been three months, but he still likes saying girlfriend.
“You’re such a drama queen,” he hears you say, your voice getting closer as you make your way to the living room. “We can’t all just put on a t-shirt with a funny saying on it and-“
You stop when you round the couch and finally notice him staring at your slinky black satin dress. Actually, he’s staring at the parts of you not covered by the dress, which gives him a lot to stare at. He might just give everyone what they want and quit driving if they could promise him he’d only have to lol at you in this dress for the rest of his life.
“What?” You ask him, which has him blinking furiously, trying to focus. You’re holding out a pair of heels to him, the ones you bought with the gift card his dad’s wife had given you for your birthday.
“Nothing,” he says, taking the shoes from you. He shifts off the couch to kneel in front you, lifting your leg to put the shoes on your foot and do up the buckle. “You look good,”
Above him, he hears you chuckle, and then your fingers run through his hair. You’re petting him like a cat, and he’ll be damned if he ever admits how close he feels to purring.
“Why does that still sound like it’s painful for you to admit?” You tease, using a bit more of your nails on the final run through of his hair.
“It’s not painful,” he tells you winding the glittering strap around your ankle.
It’s not painful. Sometimes it’s a lump in his throat, or a tightening in his chest. Sometimes, when he’s on one knee in front of you like he is now, it’s an urge to say something he can’t yet find the words for. But no, it’s not painful.
He finishes with your other shoe, squeezing your calf gently before placing a kiss on the inside of your knee.
“You’re just painfully gorgeous,” he says as he gets to his feet. “Can we go?”
You roll your eyes at him with with a smile. “Your car or mine?”
********************
He chooses to take your car. Every time he gets in your Ferrari, he thinks about Vegas. He drives it often.
He weaves through the streets of Monaco with one hand on your thigh, and he can’t remember where the fuck he was putting that hand before you.
“The thing is, unless the contract gets sorted next week, he’s totally fucked,” you’re saying as Max turns onto Avenue Princesse Grace. There’s a gaggle of people outside with their phones out. Simply fucking lovely. “You’re not listening to me are you?”
Max turns to you, squeezing your thigh as the car slows. “Of course I am, Engel. Do me a favour? Just say fuck again, a bit slower,”
“You’re twelve,”
“You would not have gone out with me at twelve,” Max jokes, slowing to a stop in front of Twiga as a valet comes towards the car.
“You were cute at twelve,” you say, “fourteen is where it started to go haywire,”
Before he can respond, you’re getting out of the car, and immediately the camera phones are focused on you. Max follows you out, handing the keys to the valet as he tries to ignore the feeling of being hunted. He wonders if they know he can hear every word they’re saying. He wonders if they’d like him to take their picture and post it all over the internet. He watches you slink through the crowd towards him, not even bothering to pretend you’re not being watched.
It’s ironic, he thinks, he brings the spotlight, but you’re the one who shines in it.
Inside the lobby, you head straight for the elevator while he talks to the woman at the front desk- it’s a well rehearsed routine. Lando isn’t here yet, typical. He asks if they can send over some St. Tropez cocktails and some gin tonics, and texts Lando to hurry up, before turning to join you at the lifts.
Except, he notices, you’re not alone. You’re standing by the lifts, with a big smile on your face, explaining something to a guy with a familiarly large head.
Max has seen Elliot around a couple of times. Monaco is stupidly small, especially in the winter when it’s nearly empty. The two men always studiously ignore each other, because what is there to say? Max doesn’t know if Elliot knows that you’re together now, and he knows it shouldn’t matter, but it does.
He didn’t hate Elliot in Austin, even though he’d planned to. But then they’d met and Max found he really couldn’t hate someone who was as smitten with you as he was, as he’d always been.
He finds that he kind of hates Elliot now, though, as he gets close enough to hear you giggle at something.
“No. It was actually okay, just cold, you know?“ you stop when Max places a hand on the small of your back, where you dress is low enough that he’s touching your skin. You turn to him. “Oh, hey. Is Lando here?”
Max shakes his head.
“Typical.” You sigh. “Max, you remember Elliot, right?”
“Yeah.” He says, and they shake hands. How are you?”
“Can’t complain,” Elliot says with a shrug. His shirt matches your dress. Fuck him.
“Well, you can if you want,” Max jokes, except it’s not a joke because he hates those Britishisms. If you want to say something just say it. And if things are fine and you have nothing to complain about why make it sound- he just doesn’t like the guy. And he doesn’t like that you liked the guy.
Mercifully, the lift arrives, and when it does, Max steps aside.
“You take this one,” he says, gesturing to the open lift. Elliot looks like he wants to refuse out of politeness in the way only English people do, so Max forces himself to put everyone out of their misery. “It’s the least I can do,”
It’s such a dickhead thing to say, but he can’t help but smirk, and it does the trick. Elliot gives both of you a tight lipped smile and steps into the lift, pulling out his phone as the door closes.
You turn to face him, his hand falling away from your back as you fix him with a quizzical look. He waits for you to chastise him for his comment, then wonders fleetingly if you’re comparing him, in his silly t-shirt and tight jeans, to Elliot in his perfectly crisp chinos. Then he finds himself staring at your lips.
“Oh, right,” you say suddenly, tapping his shoulder. “That’s what I was saying. So this builder says he’s ordered all the materials, but he has to no contract. And my dad…”
Max listens to you talk, winding his arms around your waist in a way he’s still getting used to, and you smile at him in a way he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. He promises himself then never to get angry with you when you’re getting ready. You’re worth the wait.
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hanjsquokka · 1 day
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han jisung × fem!reader , nsfw , oral (m receiving) , overstimulation , multiple orgasms (2) , semi-public , 0.6K words
wtf did i just write 💀 (very much inspired by this live)
also hi @lix-ables hehe
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you could hear him saying goodbye to his fans on the live, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. his eyes glanced up at you curiously when the door clicked open, eyes softening at your figure. you smiled in return but the lusty appeal in your eyes was a dead giveaway to what you were about to do, dropping to your knees in front of him.
“b-baby?” boba eyes widened in shock, he tried to stop you (did he though?) when your fingers gripped the loops of his jeans and started to tug them downward along with his boxers. his dick sprang out, the tip angry and red, leaking with precum and a prominent vein sticking out at the side.
“already?” you teased, taking him into your hands, pumping him a few times which made his hips jerk upward from the chair he was sitting in, face contorted as he tried to hold back those beautiful moans.
“fuck. baby we can't… anyone could walk in here…” even though he was mostly long gone, the rational part of him knew it was super risky. he had to go film a tiktok with felix and changbin. they were going to come looking for him sooner or later.
“please?” you swiped a thumb over the slit of his tip, watching the way he bit down on his lip.
a muffled whimper came from him before his own hand reached down and wrapped around his shift, moving himself to your mouth. he tapped the tip against your bottom lip. you gladly accepted, starting to suck him off. “fuck…” a shaky exhale left his mouth once he felt yours wrapped his cock, the sight of your pretty pink lips driving him crazy. his hands went to your hair, guiding you up and down. when he hit the back of your throat, you gagged and your eyes welled up with tears. he grunted when your free hand rested on his thigh, nails digging into the soft flesh as he throat-fucked you.
you pulled away from his dick, taking a gulp of fresh air and trailing kisses along his slick shaft, making him whine and writhe in his seat, desperate to have your warm mouth around him around. you obliged (for once), taking the head of his cock around your lips again, tongue sliding over the slit, making him buck his hips into your mouth.
you began bobbing your head up and down again, your scalp stinging from the iron grip he had on your hair. your saliva and his leaking tip added to the mess you were making, him barely able to contain the whiny moans anymore.
“gonna — fuck — gonna cum baby, please — ah fuck —” you felt his thigh tense up underneath your palm, and felt thick ropes of cum shoot down your throat. you pulled away with a pop, but wrapped your hands around his dick and started to move them up and down. “no — baby, fuck —” his knuckles were white as he gripped the armrest of the chair, body jolting with overstimulation, face flushed with arousal. “t-too much —”
“just give me one more ji, please?” you looked at him with puppy eyes continuing your actions. his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed and nodded, lips swollen and red from biting them to contain his sinful sounds. his second orgasm happened much quicker, body trembling as he came again, all over your face.
“fuck, baby you're nasty.” he was panting, but a bashful smile was on his face when he pulled you up to his face and kissed you, tasting himself on your lips. “i'm so going to get you back for this.”
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©hanjsquokka | copying, translating or republishing my work is strictly prohibited
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