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writerpeach · 21 days

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Studious Seduction

Oh My Girl Arin x m! reader

10k words

Thanks to @i-am-lifeform24 for help with editing

Part One | Part Two

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Read on AO3

"This seems like a bad idea, Miss Choi."

"It's a terrible idea, professor. Which is why we're doing it."

Without a doubt, there’s very little chance that you won’t be spotted here. Heading up a stairwell that leads up to who knows where is hardly ideal, especially with the sudden rain shower that's started to pour above, foreshadowing this bad decision made in tandem.

Yet, you’ve never been one to make the best choices. An inappropriate relationship with one of your students has to be ranked at the top of the list, wrong for a myriad of reasons—all that could get you fired. Still, it somehow continues unimpeded, knowing the risks, both of you doubling down even.

At this point, you’re not sure if you’re a bad influence on Arin, or if she’s a bad influence on you.

To make matters worse, today’s outfit of choice is this poor excuse for a school uniform that draws all your attention. A risky little ensemble that consists of a white shirt and black tie combo that only pretends to be proper, covering very little of her midriff, as well as this dark little pleated miniskirt so short it might as well not exist for how little of her thighs it hides. It leaves more of her creamy skin uncovered, and being her professor, you know it's not appropriate to look—yet you can’t stop yourself from doing so anyways.

And then there’s those dark frames on her face, the cherry on top that puts this whole thing together, that takes her from an innocent, responsible student more than invested in class, to this devilish vixen who struts into your office, demanding to be ruined, never taking no for an answer.

There’s almost no room for imagination, offering you such an obscene view when Arin heads up the stairs, purposefully walking in front of you with slow, deliberate steps. You can see the shape of her perfectly round butt cheeks exposed, her tight fitting thong doing anything but covering up delicious pale flesh. Of course, she knows exactly where your line of sight goes when you walk behind her, making an effort to shake her wide hips a little more with each step, giving you a shameless view of her tight, succulent ass.

This outfit is every dress code violation she could possibly make rolled into one.

But who's going to admonish her? You? Who can't even think logically at the moment when all your thoughts have turned to mush? Not a chance when all you want to do is slip your hand between her thighs too delicious to resist until she makes a mess on your fingers, the floor, and anywhere else that becomes collateral damage.

Right now, you have the perfect opportunity for exactly that. You’ve lost track of how many steps you’ve walked, but eventually, the stairwell comes to an end, with a set of metal double doors that leads up to the rooftop. As good a place as any other, you think, especially when there's little reason anyone else would want to venture towards the top level during this never-ending rainstorm.

“Here?” you question, when Arin presses your back against the cold wall just underneath the final level of the stairwell. A solitary gaze into her eyes is all you get before she wraps her hands around your neck and plants a heated, sloppy kiss on your lips. She nods in affirmation, but doesn’t give you the time to catch your breath, slipping her tongue into your mouth to make an attempt to taste all of you.

“It's really open here. Pretty easy to get caught," you tell her when she moves from your lips, placing wet kisses across your jawline, moving lower down to your neck.

"That's the point, professor." Arin places your hands firmly around her waist, leading you exactly where she wants your touch. Her legs spread a little further apart so you can push her skirt up, revealing just how tiny of a thong she's wearing. "I don't care if we get caught. Make a mess of me—"

She sighs when your fingertips press against her clothed core, so aroused you can already feel her slick leaking through the flimsy fabric. You add more pressure in response, rewarded with Arin's soft gasps against the sensitive skin of your neck.

"We could get in a lot of trouble, Yewon," you breathe out, barely paying attention to anything beyond this. In fact, you hardly care about what could go wrong either, so consumed with lust, one singular desire that Arin shares, and your fingertips ache to slip underneath these panties and sink right in.

"When has that ever stopped us before?"

She has a point.

This is risky as it gets. And that’s what makes it all more exciting.

Without wasting any more time, you slip a finger underneath the fabric of her panties, into her ridiculously warm cunt. A second one slides in right after, and soaked as she already is, barely puts up any resistance, the entrance of her tight little hole eagerly swallowing you up.

“Professor—“

A few strokes is all you manage before Arin throws her head back in delight, rolling her hips, moaning from nothing more but your fingers slowly pumping in and out of her needy cunt.

Arin clings to your shoulder as the tempo picks up, her other hand quickly traveling down your torso until it reaches your pants. She finds the button to your slacks right away, unzipping them to slip a hand inside your boxers. You let out a groan when she runs a gentle hand along the length of your shaft, slow and teasing—until she wraps her entire hand around it and grips you tight.

“Yewon..." A wave of pleasure rushes through your whole body. She's stroking your cock with such a perfect grip, slender fingers reaching down to fondle your balls, eager for what they’ve stored up just for her. Meanwhile, the sounds that come from her own throat as she rides your fingers become a necessary distraction, urging you to thrust into her a little faster, a little rougher—

"How many loads are you going to give me today, professor? I hope they're all as thick as they were yesterday—"

It's rather ridiculous, the things you hear come out of Arin's mouth. The demure looking girl in the front row, raising her hand up high, blushing just at the sight of you, now says the filthiest things when she's got her mouth on your earlobe and her pussy filled with your fingers. She's every bit the opposite of an exemplary student, but you suppose that's your fault, given you're the one who's trading straight A's for the roughest, raunchiest sex that almost always ends up with you finishing inside her.

But the way Arin sounds when she moans directly in your ear, riding your fingers so selfishly while they stay buried inside her cunt, it makes you forget all that. None of that matters. All that does is satisfying her needs and yours, and you won't stop until she's absolutely drenched your fingers, even if it ruins that pathetic pair of panties.

"Don't stop, professor. I'm so close…"

She's lost all inhibitions in her frantic desire to keep rocking her hips hard against your fingers. You can feel the tension about to snap, her walls squeezing the life out of your slick digits—all while she tries to keep a steady rhythm in her own pumping, giving your cock a good squeeze each time your fingers plunge to the hilt.

"Professor, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—" Arin’s breathing grows unsteady, heavy, and she gasps for air between every syllable that escapes her lips. You’ll do everything to oblige her, steadily thrusting, curling your fingers to find that sweet spot that gets her to moan the loudest until she lets go of your cock, clinging her entire weight onto you.

"You're gonna make me fucking cum—"

Nothing gets said in response, obeying Arin’s pleas, an uninterrupted stream of juices beginning to coat your fingers while she lets out one continuous moan, unable to speak coherently upon climax. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she nearly draws blood before the wetness gushes down your fingers, rendering her panties useless, completely ruined with all this sticky arousal.

Her walls flutter around you, this explosive orgasm lasting far longer than you expect—but you don’t let up, pumping away as she spills more, riding this out until it turns into a second one shortly after. And when you press your thumb firmly against her clit, right as she starts to come down from her high, the violent trembles in her body repeat, sending her over the edge a third time, forcing her body to shake against yours, another loud, shameless moan spilling out of her in overstimulation.

It's a wonder how the rest of campus hasn’t heard the screams echoing all the way down the staircase. Were it not for the rain pouring overhead drowning out her cries of pleasure, it would be near impossible for anyone passing by to not hear a thing. So you’re blessed by the rains, both above, and between Arin’s sticky thighs.

After it’s all said and done, she can hardly support her own weight when the sensation of your fingers inside her becomes too much for her oversensitive cunt, Arin’s sweaty frame nearly toppling over as she breathes heavily. Good thing you're right here to do what she temporarily can’t, clinging to your body, your hard cock still poking against her as you keep her upright amidst these intense aftershocks.

"That was, fuck—you've really outdone yourself, professor. I can hardly stand."

When you pull your fingers out, you can’t hide the smirk that spreads across your face with all this slick clinging to your fingertips as she leans on your body to take a breath. The praise washes over you while Arin unexpectedly grabs your wrist, bringing your soaked fingers, all the way up to her lips to fervently suck the delicious liquid off.

You intently watch her lick herself off you, tongue lewdly swirling around the length of each wet digit, making an effort to swallow all of her mess. Her lips glisten with spit and wetness, a ravenous look in her bespectacled eyes as she cleans whatever she can, tasting every drop of her delicious essence, staring at you seductively until nothing is left.

"Guess I don't need these anymore," Arin says after a pause, gradually recovering as she peels her drenched thong down her legs, letting it drop to her ankles before she slips it off, stuffing it into your front pocket. A cute little smile later, and she looks more than eager for what's next, unable to tear her gaze away from how hard you’ve been left thanks to her.

"I should finish what I started, don't you think, professor?"

You don't even get to answer when Arin drops to her knees on the cold floor, tugging your pants and boxers further down, freeing your cock that so desperately needs it—so desperately needs her. With a cute, light giggle, she spits onto your swollen shaft, pumping the entire length with her delicate fingers, a low moan rising in your throat as she pays extra attention to the underside where she knows you're the most sensitive.

Her slender fingers work up the length of your cock, coming back down with a grip so wonderfully tight. She’s so ready, so eager to have her soft lips around it already. You can practically see her salivating when she leans in a little closer to lap her tongue around your cock in one long, lazy lick, pressing her lips into a light kiss on the tip of your shaft.

“Yewon—“

You can’t hold in a grunt when Arin rubs your tip against her mouth, not opening up enough to take you whole yet, instead tracing her full, soft lips over your needy cockhead.

“Don’t you worry, professor. Gonna make you feel so good. I promise.”

The anticipation explodes all at once as she parts her lips, slipping the entire head of your cock inside. The moment her wet mouth makes contact with your shaft, you groan at the sudden warmth, a sharp contrast from her icy cold hands. She takes more of your length down, hollowing her cheeks, keeping an intense, erotic gaze while slowly bobbing her head up and down.

"Mhmph—" Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine as her lips slip further and further down, the tip of her tongue flicking against what hasn’t disappeared into her mouth. You can’t help but let out all types of unabashed moans while she guides more of you inside, spit dripping down to your balls as she slides deeper, until nothing of you is left to swallow up, the head of your cock hitting the back of her tight throat with ease.

"Yewon, fuck,” you say, nearly breathless, and the way Arin looks up at you with her mouth so proudly sealed around every inch—there’s nothing better. “I'll never get enough of your pretty fucking mouth.”

Arin hums against the length of your shaft at your praise, working more of her magic on you, lips getting down so devastatingly deep against your base. She’s oh so eager, so unwaveringly committed to covering every single inch in saliva. Her hot little mouth slides down effortlessly, bobbing her head back, each stroke just a bit sloppier, a little wetter than the one before, with zero intention of giving you a chance to gather yourself.

“Nobody gives a blowjob like I do, right, professor? Nobody can make you cum as hard as I can. I love being on my knees for you so much, being a good little slut for my professor. That’s what I am, aren't I?"

Nodding your head is all you can do, breath heavy in disbelief of how good this oral assault is, the enthusiasm on display really proving how much Arin enjoys having your cock shoved down her wet, inviting throat.

You’d sacrifice your entire livelihood for a blowjob like this.

It’s quite simple to lose track of how many times her talented mouth takes your entire length down, so good at pleasuring you it's impossible to find words. The way her wet tongue flicks against your slit when she slides off, only to have you plunging all the way back into the heat of her throat—it's far, far too good.

"I want you to cum on my face, professor," Arin tells you, so casually as she pulls away for a brief second before going right back to licking up the length of your hard cock, spitting all the excess saliva over the rest of you. Then she’s back to placing hungry wet kisses against each inch, her tongue making a slick path before she gives the leaking slit of your cock another teasing, torturous swirl. "I want all of it."

At this rate, you think you could blow a load anywhere she wanted you to, already so close to bursting just at her tongue lavishing your cock with these feverish licks. She has this way of making you feel so special, like worshiping your cock is all that matters to her, your pleasure the most important aspect in her life. Her greedy mouth proves just that, making you groan so easily, especially when she dips down to pay attention to your balls and slurps so messily on them like she wants your load at any cost.

A few lazy licks down your sack and you’re back down her throat—just trapped there helplessly as she holds you, her pretty mouth so goddamn overwhelming when she swallows as much of your length as she possibly can, not showing even the slightest hint of strain. Her full lips stay motionless when they slide right down to your base, gaze locked tight, making your cock throb within her tight, wet throat.

“Stay there, Yewon, shit,” you groan, hands clutching her head against your crotch to speed up the path to climax. Each second she remains there feels like absolute heaven, fostering all this unbearable bliss, all while those doe eyes speak for her when her mouth can’t—impatiently waiting, desperately wanting to empty your balls.

When she releases her lips from your length, there’s a sexy little gasp that comes with the messy string of saliva pulling her back down. Repeating the act, she plunges right back down, nose nestling comfortably against your abdomen, lips wrapped entirely around the base of your length. “Yewon, god, you know what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.“

"Oh, you’re gonna cum? Want you to paint my pretty face. Don’t you, professor?”

There’s no answer to offer other than what she wants, all thoughts drowned by another wet slurp when Arin once again takes every inch of you down her throat, the overwhelming warmth of her mouth suffocating your length. Then she rises, exposing your shaft to the cool air for only a moment until her throat tightens when you’re back down, fully sheathed.

Arin’s so dedicated to hearing you moan that these steadfast strokes show no relent, slurping from base to tip, hair all a mess as she bobs faster and faster, maintaining never-ending eye contact that’ll be the death of you.

“Need it. Need it so bad, your hot cum dripping down my face when I walk back down these stairs. Can’t wait to feel how thick and heavy a load you’ll give me.”

Her pace only begins to go into overdrive, picking up rampantly when Arin places her hands on your thighs for better stability, the hot slickness of her mouth far too much to handle. She takes every inch, all of you disappearing down, without needing to stop to take a breath, like she’s proving a point at how good she can get you off. There's no restraint as she bobs her head without inhibitions, sloppily, noisily, not even gagging when her throat delivers an unimaginable level of pleasure.

"Oh my god, Yewon, fuck—"

With each desperate stroke, you're so close to that edge, quickly approaching the inevitable. The tightness in your balls grows beyond your control, and there’s no time to think straight when her mouth feels this fucking good, almost there, absolutely about to—

"I'm gonna fucking cum, Yewon," you groan out just in time, with no qualms about how needy you sound. One last slow descent down to your base, then Arin pops your needy shaft from her mouth right when it seems you’re about to burst any second.

And looking as salacious as possible, she simply tilts her head slightly backwards, jerking you off while directing the tip of your cock straight at her face, eagerly anticipating the release that's about to cover her.

“Cum all over me, professor.”

You let out a strained, guttural moan the moment your first pearlescent stream shoots out, streaking across the bridge of her nose. These frantic strokes don’t let up, guiding your milky seed that unloads onto the perfect target—her glasses, coating the lenses in white and getting it all over her rosy cheeks. Another strand fires off as she shifts your cock downwards, a thick stream blasting across her parted lips that deserve so much of this load for helping you reach an explosive release.

She pumps, and pumps, until there’s nothing left, and by the time your orgasm winds down, Arin is a total mess, one you’ll never get tired of seeing your load plastered all over her. Her stunning features wear you like a proud smile, drenched in her handiwork, thick streaks that cling to her cheeks, those soft lips, and anywhere else it happens to land as she strokes your length to ensure not a drop goes to waste.

That look is all too familiar when the weight of your load starts to drip down, an orgasmic feeling that brings a grin onto her cum-stained face.

“That’s a big load, professor. Just what I wanted," she says as she removes her stained glasses, taking a nice, long lick right over the lens and making a show of the entire thing. "I think I'm obsessed. With your cum. It tastes so good, but looks better on my face."

"Yewon—you're ridiculous, you know that?" you tell her as she carefully slips the glasses back on, and wipes up whatever has run off to the corners of her lips, bringing her sticky fingers into her own mouth to slurp them clean.

"It's not my fault my professor's cum tastes so good."

But before she can even begin to clean off your cock, or savor what an absolute mess she’s covered in, the sound of footsteps nearby force her to stop mid-stroke, causing both your heads to turn with a shared look of panic. There's only enough time to tuck yourself back into your pants, but there's nothing to do at all about this massive load that's dripping all over Arin, nor what’s done a number on the stairwell.

"Get behind me, Yewon. Quick."

Arin nods and does as you say, scrambling to her feet, also making sure her thong is still tucked away into your pocket as you zip your pants up. The sounds of footsteps echo louder, yet there's only one real way to escape this stairwell, because you're not going out that door when the rain hasn't let up one bit.

When the moment those footsteps approach the stairwell entrance, they slow to a halt, making your heart beat faster. Arin moves fast enough to get behind you just in time, out of sight and behind your broad frame. And the two of you wait there, her body pressed against yours, trying to hold her breath, dreading to explain yourself to whoever just made this abrupt end to your fun.

"Professor? Is that you?" The voice sounds so familiar, but you can't quite pick it out, too muffled by the rain. But there's no doubt you've heard this voice before. It's certainly one of your students, so at least you won’t have to explain this to a faculty member. "What a surprise, seeing you here!"

Normally, you'd have all the time in the world for pleasantries and small talk, but this is the last place where you can do anything of the sort as you try to shield Arin. From who exactly, you have no idea as they walk into frame. Their name escapes you, not that you really care when all you want is to get out of this situation.

"Is something the matter, professor? Why are you standing there?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. I had some time between classes and came up here to check out the rain. It's not letting up is it?" You put on the best smile possible, knowing Arin can't be spotted right behind you. Luckily, your taller frame can block her body completely, and given how the area is poorly lit, there isn't much worry about the mess that's on her face at the very least.

"No, it isn't. We don't usually get so much rain this time of year, huh?" The unnamed student asks as she glances out the window, and for a brief second you fear the worst—but she doesn't seem to notice anything at all that shouldn't be there. "I didn't even bring an umbrella today either..."

"You might check the library, they'll have them."

"The library?"

"They used to offer some a few months back, but I guess everyone forgot. I'm sure they still have a few left."

"I might give that a try then, thanks. It's good to see you, professor."

When your student smiles and waves goodbye, heading back the stairs without another word, you're able to finally breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing the ordeal is finally over, despite taking years off your life. "Jesus, Yewon."

"That was close.” Her own breath stays ragged and heavy, almost completely forgetful to the mess you've left on her face that still glistens. "Good save. Really pulled that umbrella story out of thin air, didn’t you?”

“Whatever it takes. Hey, they might have umbrellas. I’ve never gone there except to rail you.”

Arin laughs, then suddenly remembers she still has your filth all over her. “Better go clean up I guess..."

"This was a really terrible idea."

"Hey, this was my terrible idea," Arin corrects with a grin that manages to shine through all the mess. "And I don’t hear you complaining about me giving you a nice, sloppy blowjob, professor.”

“I could never complain about seeing my favorite student on her knees.”

“I'll go on ahead. Maybe I'll see you later? For office hours?"

You say nothing more as you let her pass you to head down the stairs first, standing here a bit longer for your heart rate to calm before you too make your exit. You've got a class in under an hour that you haven't prepared for, and now how could you, coming so close from potentially losing your job. But yet, somehow, through all that, Arin was right—the rush of getting caught is exhilarating, but that was far too close for comfort.

✦ ✦

So after all that, logic would dictate that you should be a little more careful, that maybe you should stop having sex with your student in places you're bound to get caught—but logic went out the window the moment you bent Arin over your desk for the very first time. What else are you going to do though, take her home to your apartment where there's actual privacy, where you don't have to keep quiet?

That sounds so very drab and mundane, and you'd rather spend another ten hours grading papers than go the proper route. You don't even know what you would do if you wound up in Arin's bedsheets, having all the freedom to rail her for hours instead of the thrill of being in public where you have to be quick and quiet.

There's nothing wrong or unhealthy with this relationship. Not one bit.

You've told yourself on multiple occasions that you should dial it down a notch, not meet quite so often, or at least not in places that will put your career at risk. After all, your luck is going to run out one of these days, and the day could very well come when more than just a student catches the two of you, maybe one of the other professors, or god forbid the university staff.

And then it's all over for both of you.

Yet, there isn't a day when you don't seek each other out, find some empty closet, a vacant faculty office, or that spot near the back of the library that's so dusty that no one frequents.

The risk is almost as good as being balls deep inside Arin itself.

You can't exactly help yourself when she wears these slutty little outfits that practically beg you to rip them off her, nothing but the shortest skirts imaginable to class, where you have to stop your eyes from wandering throughout the entirety of the lecture.

Arin sits in the front row for a reason, and that's not to get a better view of the whiteboard. No, it's so she can spread her legs open when no one's paying attention, flash whatever sexy pair of panties she has underneath (or the lack thereof on occasion), and sometimes even play with herself so she can show off how wet she is.

Somehow, no one's really noticed how often you have her in your office, where there's less talk about class going on, and more your head buried between her thighs, or having her bent over your desk in some obscene position with her mouth stuffed by her ruined underwear and screaming through it.

With everything that’s transpired today, one would think you’d call it early and pack up. Not you though. Not even an hour has gone by since your close call, and Arin is in your office again, sucking you off underneath your desk while you work on grading papers—at least you should be, if only you could focus for more than a few seconds without this warm mouth slobbering on your cock.

"I bet none of your other students can deepthroat you as good as I can."

"You said you were going to be quiet."

"And you said you were going to fuck me, professor."

You haven't exactly broken that promise, it's more like Arin decided she wasn't going to wait until you finished, always finding an excuse to get in her favorite position whenever she wants to suck you off.

Luckily, for your students, you're going to be in such a tremendous mood after finishing in this girl's hungry mouth. These papers are downright horrendous—so fucking awful and unreadable it makes you wonder if you should intentionally pound Arin in your office with the door wide open, just so you’ll get caught, lose your job, and never have to deal with some of these students ever again.

Not even a few papers in and you’ve lost every ounce of focus, groaning while Arin empties your balls, her mouth right at your base when your spills right down her throat. With your fingers gripping the back of her head, it's impossible to not avoid bucking your hips into her pretty, sloppy mouth as she drains each thick shot from your pulsing cock, swallowing it all with pride to make sure there's not a single trace of your creamy release that hasn't gone directly into her stomach.

"All those students probably failed anyways," she tells you, letting the saliva fall from her lips as she shows off her empty mouth with a pleased smile, planting a nice, loud wet kiss on your tip before getting back up to her feet.

"Yeah? Including you?"

"Of course not, professor. We both know before you even look at my paper that I've got a perfect grade."

"Is that so? And what have you done to deserve that, Yewon?"

Before you've even gotten your pants back on properly, Arin is already claiming a spot on the edge of your desk, undoing her tie so that it hangs loosely around her neck, and then spreads those luscious thighs as wide apart as they can go, her gorgeous, dripping pussy on display without any underwear in the way. "I can think of a few things. Doesn't emptying you down my throat count for something?"

"Hm, I dunno,” you ponder, shamelessly staring between those delectable thighs at what’s all yours. “Maybe a few points. That'll get you a passing grade at best."

"Just a few? What about all the times I've ridden your cock this week alone, professor? And how many times did you cum inside me?"

"I've completely lost track, Yewon. I guess that'll get you at least ten percent higher."

"How generous of you," she retorts, tone all full with playful sarcasm, unbuttoning her white shirt enough so you can see the color of her bra. It's purple, just like the thong in your pocket that serves as a nice trophy. "Are you forgetting how many times I took your thick cock in my ass until you blew your load inside?"

"Does that really count if you beg me to do so every time you step in my office?"

"Oh no, you can't blame me for how much you love my ass, professor. That's at least twenty points."

"That's a little greedy, don't you think?"

"Absolutely not. If anything, I deserve extra for all those times I let you fuck my face," Arin suggests, spreading her legs further apart to give a clearer view of her bare cunt that’s glistening so beautifully, accompanied with a set of fingers teasing herself for your benefit.

"Again, you're forgetting the part where you keep dropping down to your knees and begging for it."

Arin can't help but smile, both at knowing you're right—and also how you can't take your eyes off the show her fingers put on when she rubs at her clit, getting wet so easily from playing with herself while staring into your eyes. It's the look on your face that drives her crazy and gives her the urge to show off even more, sliding two digits past her swollen lips into her tight hole, so eager to get herself off in front of you.

"What about now, profess—" she asks before a moan interrupts her words, leaning backwards to prop herself up so you can watch every bit as she fingers herself. "Does this count for anything?"

"It depends. If you can make yourself cum without my help, then maybe, that'll bump up your grade, Yewon."

"Twenty-five. For making myself cum right in your office," she manages between hitched breaths, pumping her fingers deep in and out, almost bucking her hips off the table at her own touch.

"Twenty. You're not there yet, Yewon," you correct, watching Arin roll her head back with her eyes shut, so beautiful when she's in bliss, achingly sexy how her slender fingers disappear knuckle deep into her own cunt. You've barely had any time to recover since emptying your load down her throat just a minute ago, but the mere sight is more than enough to have you as hard as the wooden desk she’s writhing on.

Arin reaches down to further unbutton her shirt, giving the full glimpse of her breasts covered up in that pretty lace as her tight frame falls back against the cold surface all splayed out. While this shameless girl continues fingering her pussy, you simply enjoy the view, stroking your cock every few seconds to spur her on. Every desperate moan and gasp from her lips gets louder, all that nectar trickling down between her spread thighs you’re dying to lick clean—but you won’t, because she has to do this on her own.

You let the lack of words exchanged linger in the air while Arin fingers herself a bit rougher, moving a bit more frantic, knowing all the signs from experience that she isn't too far from that much craved release.

“Professor," Arin breathes out, the quiver in her voice an obvious indication. Her fingers get so drenched, pulling them out from her heat for a moment to reveal how sticky wet they are as she groans, not bothering to hide how she slides them back in to curl right into herself. "Oh god, professor—“

When the pleasure becomes too much, when her back arches off the desk with breathless cries, there's no missing the split second Arin's entire body tenses up—thighs quivering, fingers buried so deep you can hear the wetness while she shakes on the desk from the intensity of her orgasm. It's a moment of euphoria that's only reached because you're watching so attentively, eyes glued the entire time as she rides her fingers long past completion, toes curling, moans echoing through your small office.

Even when Arin is finished, she's unable to regain her composure for more than a few ragged breaths, eyes still closed while the bliss hits hard, long after her high. And you savor every second of her looking so beautiful in this post-climax haze, an absolute mess on your desk that you’re thankful hasn't soaked into your papers.

"Fuck, that was too good, professor," Arin murmurs, slowly pulling her fingers out from herself, just to rub her oversensitive clit, borderline crying from the overstimulation. “It’s too bad it wasn’t your cock I came on.”

"Then maybe I should deduct points for that?"

"Hey, that's not fair… you just told me—I’d get points for making myself cum."

"I did, but—you would have earned extra for waiting for me to do it. Guess you'll just have to earn back those points another way."

"How exactly should I do that, professor?" Arin asks with the best faux ignorance possible, sitting herself up to scoot off the desk, then leaning down to wrap her slick fingers around your shaft. "If you bend me over and pound me with this cock until your cum is leaking inside me, would that be enough?"

"Perhaps. That would certainly help raise your grade some points.”

"Give it all to me then," she pleads, giving your cock a handful of languid strokes, just enough to leave a nice trail of her slick along the entire length. "Fuck a load into me, professor. Fuck your top student all over this office."

"Top student? Really?" You can't help but laugh at that, knowing full well Arin is certainly anything but. Far from it actually, not even top ten. "Then I better go find her then."

"Hey! Just shut up and give it to me already," Arin says with that pout still intact, keeping these strokes going on your cock that make you throb so easily, and you’re not sure who needs it more at this point.

"Fine, but not here. I'm tired of this place. Let's go somewhere else."

It's rather late into the afternoon, with the majority of classes for the day having ended already. That leaves enough of the campus vacant, lowering the risk of getting caught wherever you decide to take Arin—but the risk still isn't zero. Wandering around the university after hours isn't the best idea, especially when there are plenty of places for students to hang out, and worse, faculty offices open late.

So you keep it simple.

You keep several feet ahead of each other, heading up a couple floors to that really small bathroom by the science department that no one ever uses because it doesn't lock properly. There are much bigger and better bathrooms scattered about, so everyone usually forgets this tiny, shabby thing exists, especially late into the day. Not the most romantic spot, but it’s suitable, and keeps you from scouring the halls without having to dodge other faculty and students.

You enter first, flicking on the light, and do a quick scan around the room while Arin slips in, pulling the door shut as quickly as possible. There's nothing but a toilet, a sink, and a mirror, but most importantly it looks clean, which is the most important thing. It's not that surprising given that nobody really uses it to begin with.

It’s as perfect a place as ever.

Double checking the lock still doesn't work, nothing has changed on that front. Arin quickly moves to lean against the wall, and she’s already unbuttoning her shirt, all the way this time, to give the full view of those perky breasts without any bra to ruin the view. You're on her in a flash, claiming those lips with a kiss full of nothing but aggression to match just how badly you want to ruin this girl right now.

"Fuck me," Arin urges as she palms your bulge through your pants, impatient to get your cock inside of her. Her fingers fumble with the button to your pants, thoughts clouded with desire, and she’s so eager to release your aching shaft, to give it all the attention it so desperately craves.

You’ve got just a modicum of patience left to not let that happen quite yet.

Instead, with your lips still attached, you pick Arin’s slender frame off the ground, and guide her over to the sink, placing her there as gently as you can. When she settles down on the edge of the counter, there's no hesitation to shove that tiny skirt up past her waist, revealing her absolutely beautiful cunt still left glistening in the aftermath of her orgasm from a moment earlier, and you're just dying to fill her all up.

Still, somehow you hold back for a moment, to let it all sink in. The sight is divine enough, this privileged student of yours in this rather pathetic excuse for a school uniform, half naked, shirt wide open with her tits fully out, that barely-there skirt, and those sexy thigh highs that bring all the attention to her immaculate thighs that make you want to ruin her even faster. She knows that’s your biggest weakness, knows how weak in the knees they leave you whenever you get to slide them off with your teeth—but now they make her look like pure sin.

"I know you wanna get that dick in me," she says, voice so sultry, and her thighs spread obscenely wide apart, so that every inch of her mouthwatering cunt is put on display with not a drop of modesty—not like Arin even knows what that word is.

"Not yet. Haven't gotten to taste you today." As per usual, Arin’s been more than a little greedy, and it feels like she’s had her lips on your cock all day and this is the first opportunity to return the favor.

Any protest in those pretty eyes doesn't last when her hands wrap around your skull, drawing your face straight between her thighs that you have no trouble diving into. With your lips feasting on her cunt right off the bat, you give Arin all the attention she craves so badly, licking along the length of her slit, all the way up until your tongue starts flicking at her engorged clit.

"God, so fucking good," Arin breathes out, the silence in the empty bathroom getting cut with all her beautiful moans that ring out. For your efforts, you’re rewarded by her thighs locking around your head, as your lips get a tight seal around her swollen clit that has her grinding that delicious cunt all over your mouth.

"Professor!" she chokes out, while continuing this harsh grip on the back of your head while you slurp on her clit so mercilessly, every bit hungry to taste all those delicious juices that spill out. "Oh my god, professor, oh fuck!"

Your mouth doesn't quit, because nobody tastes better than Arin. You're an addict, every bit obsessed with this girl's cunt since the first time that you slid between these thighs. There's nothing you love more than this, her taste lingering on your tongue, all while these delicious thighs squeeze around your head, suffocating you perfectly as you eat her out with so much fervor she almost can't handle how good you make her feel.

"My god, Yewon—you taste so fucking delicious," you tell her between long licks, slurping on her clit without restraint to savor every last bit of her soaking cunt. "I can eat your pretty pussy all day. For hours and hours."

"I won't say no to that, professor.” Her desperate hands dig into your scalp to hold your face right there, exactly where she wants, where she needs, gasping when her hips grind down against you. "Fuck, your tongue is so, so good."

This is your favorite part about going down on her, being trapped between those perfect thighs that squeeze and tremble while you sloppily eat her out, drowning in her heavenly aroma and all this nectar, her delicious pussy that tastes even better the longer you indulge.

It's never enough though, no matter how much time you get to spend with your tongue buried inside her cunt, or how many times she cums all over your face—the taste of her is heaven, and you love turning this girl into nothing more than a whimpering, quivering mess who can’t even think straight.

"Just like that, professor, fuck, don't stop, oh my god, don't fucking stop, please—“

She whines so freely while grinding down hard against your hungry lips you can hardly breathe. Not that you have any problem about that, because you know exactly where Arin is, can feel those thighs vibrate all around you to know those limits are about to be surpassed, and you don't plan to let up for even a moment.

You ramp up your efforts in devouring her cunt without a moment to rest, your tongue all over her clit, sucking so harshly, so relentlessly, drowning in these delicious juices. It’s obvious how Arin's hips can't stay steady for a second longer, seconds from losing herself entirely. "Professor! Fuck, I'm so fucking close. Keep going, keep—oh fuck, right there, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck—"

Arin bucks her hips into your face with wild abandon, her juices smearing across your lips when you bring her to the verge of release, until she finally topples over completely.

Everything goes muffled while she keeps her thighs squeezed tightly around your head, violently trembling throughout her orgasm as you lick her through the entire thing. Like every other time you've brought her over that blissful edge, it's beautiful, turning your face into a mess, and you greedily lap up everything that freely spills into your mouth from her overflowing cunt.

When those thighs let off and relax, you look up at Arin's blissed out visage, completely enamored in the pleasure, shivering and trembling with a high-pitched squeal as you give her clit one more loud slurp for good measure. Your focus then shifts back to her messy folds, delving deep into them to clean up those juices she's gushing so profusely, a never ending stream of wet, sticky deliciousness.

"Fuck, your cunt always tastes so amazing," you mutter, lapping at the girl's slick covered thighs, getting out every drop that leaks out with a few soft licks. Arin stays motionless on the counter, looking straight up to the ceiling while her chest heaves, still seeing stars.

After indulging a little while longer, and spending all the time necessary getting those warm thighs mostly clean, there's only one thing left to do. Your mouth pulls away, but only so you can yank your pants down to your ankles, your stiff cock aching to get inside of her.

"Gonna fucking ruin you, Yewon. Hope you’re ready for me to wreck that tight little cunt."

"When am I not? Please, give it to me already," Arin desperately pleads, pulling herself from her haze to look at the throbbing length you're stroking as her eyes beg you to sink in and fill her up.

Sitting herself up on the sink, she keeps herself propped up with her hands planted behind her body, spreading her thighs apart as far as possible, with her wet cunt presented so lewdly and invitingly. "Shove that dick right in me, professor. Give it to me as hard as you can."

Without another thought wasted, you slowly guide the swollen tip of your cock past those drenched lower lips, groaning unabashedly when all this slippery warmth welcomes you deep inside. It's far too easy, how you slide into her, walls so dripping with arousal that allow this ache to dissipate when you effortlessly impale Arin all the way, right to the hilt.

"My god, Yewon, fucking love this tight pussy," you groan as her walls clamp down, holding you right inside that delicious grip with no plans to release you.

She's so soaking wet when you start pounding away inside, each thrust coated in all those messy juices as your cock bottoms out every time. Your deep strokes make full use of her open shirt, causing her modest breasts to bounce as her back hits the mirror with each hard slam. Arin clenches around you with such an unyielding grip as you pump in and out, loving how rough you are, how forceful your hips are, moaning louder and louder, still sensitive from the previous release.

“And I love being stretched on your huge fucking cock.”

There's not an ounce of mercy in your thrusts, just pure carnal lust taking hold. Her wet folds remain parted, taking the full length of your pounding shaft, every last inch driving into that slick little cunt without restraint. You take advantage of how her legs drape over the sink, grabbing her thighs, spreading them to give you more leverage to angle your thrusts deeper, and she kicks her heels off to give you even more control, allowing you to use her body however you please.

"It feels so good, professor," she says, while each thrust stays rough and deliberate, buried to the hilt in her wetness. "This cock of yours—is so perfect."

"That's because your cunt is made for it," you groan, sweat forming on her skin under your grip as your hips slam against her. It's absolute bliss, watching the way her entire body responds each time you sink in, hearing her soft whines that she’s unable to hold any back while getting fucked so mercilessly over this counter top. "You take my cock so well."

"Of course I do," she insists, the biggest grin on her face that gets interrupted with more moans. "I'm the professor's favorite student, after all."

"But definitely the worst one," you fire back, fingertips digging hard into her bare thighs all wrapped up in these sexy thigh high stockings as they jiggle with every relentless thrust.

"So—how many points is this?" Arin asks, bracing herself against the mirror when you pound into her even harder, every inch of your cock covered in her sweet essence.

"As many as you fucking want, Yewon."

"Then make it a thousand. I can use them on the next assignment, right?"

"Use them on whatever you want, the final exam even. So long as I get to cum inside you."

"Of course, professor. Fill me all the way up. Cum inside me as much as you fucking want," she says, and those tits bounce more hypnotically every time you pick up the pace, slamming deeper with more force each time. After every plunge balls deep, that tightness becomes more overwhelming, urging you to give your all, as if the sight of her all sprawled out and creaming on your cock isn't enough already.

It's merciless. And your hips start to reach their limit, but Arin's desperate cries of pleasure become so loud, that she has no choice but to muffle herself with her hand, almost forgetting that this seldom used bathroom is still right by the science lab—and anyone could be lingering around.

"Fucking fill me, professor. Empty your balls. Just keep—oh god, fuck, fuck," Arin whimpers, the limits of her body creeping up fast as your cock pistons so harshly in and out of her hot cunt. "Wanna milk every last drop right out of you, make you cum so fucking hard."

"Only if you’re good and cum on this cock, Yewon. Cum all over me, and I'll fucking fill this cunt up."

"Yes, god, yes," she says, practically falling back against the mirror while you brutally hammer into her at full force. She barely keeps the coherence when it all peaks, when you feel those impossibly tight walls clenching around your cock, borderline painful, forcing you to use every ounce of strength to not burst inside her just yet.

"Fuck, professor, this dick is so amazing—I'm gonna cum all over it, all over your fucking huge cock," Arin says as her pussy squeezes the life out of your cock with every impale in that wet, intoxicating heat. A flood of her fluids almost forces you out, an absolute mess that drowns your shaft in slick rips through her body without any care, and all you can do is fuck her through it.

Even when her orgasm subsides, and she somehow becomes tighter, wetter, easier to sink into, you don't show any remorse while fucking her tight pussy until you can't possibly hold on any further.

"You're close, aren't you, professor?" Arin gasps between collecting her breath as the pleasure begins to fade, watching the struggle you're going through to hold it back. "I know you are. Please, let me have all that cum. Blow your fucking load in me, let it all out."

That's all you need to be shoved straight over the edge, taking a few final strokes before that pressure builds up to a boiling point, and nothing’s going to stop you when you’re about to burst. “Yewon—“

Her name barely escapes before you’re throbbing, letting out all types of lustful grunts while her pussy smothers you in warmth, offering the best place for such a messy release of seed that shoots out, coating her insides the way she begs for.

Your cock violently pulsates until you’re left with nothing but orgasmic relief, unloading shot after shot deep inside Arin with the thickest spurts imaginable that empty into her warm little pussy. These tight, tight walls take every drop, welcoming such a huge load that’s even somehow stronger than what her mouth did to you earlier.

There’s no way you could do anything else with how delicious she looks on this bathroom counter. With whatever remnants of energy are left, you use all the power in your hips until they lose steam, remaining inside her euphoric cunt that refuses to relinquish you. You ride out wave after wave, each spasm pumping more cum into her, all this intoxicating bliss that feels like it’ll never end.

And truly, both of you wish it never would.

“Professor…” Arin can barely speak between breaths, riding this collective high that fills the room with heavy panting, and sweat glistens on whatever bare skin her revealing outfit offers. You’re right there with her, caressing her thighs, her messy cunt wringing out as much out of you as possible, like it doesn’t want your cock to escape, even after your entire load is buried inside that delicious warmth.

“Came so hard on you, professor, fuck... I love the way your cum feels when you push it deeper, all the way into my womb. Wanna keep it all here until you’re ready for round two.”

"You're fucking insatiable, Yewon," you sigh, dropping Arin's legs back onto the counter, which relinquishes the intense grip you’ve held, allowing her body a chance to relax. When your breathing returns to something somewhat stable, you lean over to give her a tired kiss, one that’s easily returned with whatever remaining energy she has.

“Can you blame me when your dick is this good? It’s only your fault I turned into such a greedy little cumslut.”

“Or maybe you were already like that before I even met you…"

"Yeah. Maybe."

Arin looks away as she starts to giggle, giving you a perfect chance to kiss that exposed cheek. When she glances back, you share an impossibly long stare, one that goes on far too long without words until you lean in for another kiss—

One that gets interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Custodial services, I'm here to clean up."

You must have angered some kind of god for this to happen two times in one day. Even worse, there’s no easy way out of this while you're still buried inside Arin, the least of your concerns as this creamy mess threatens to spill out.

"I, uh—need a moment. Spilled something on my shirt that won't come out. Be out in a bit," you blurt out, barely thinking while you look around at the poor bathroom that's been defiled. Arin can't help herself, covering her mouth to help from not immediately bursting into laughter as she fumbles to button back up her shirt.

“You’re such a bad liar,” Arin whispers, but you just roll your eyes at her, glancing over the sweat on her body that you’d no doubt be licking clean were the two of you not nervously waiting to see if this unfamiliar man outside will buy your story.

"No problem, sir. Take your time, I'll be back after.” The janitor shuffles his feet, and you listen carefully, wondering just how obvious the two of you were being. When you can no longer hear footsteps, you release the longest sigh, and slowly pull out of Arin, along with an utterly unreal amount of hot semen that spills out.

"Can't believe he bought that," Arin sighs while hopping off the counter, where more of your cum gushes out as soon as she stands up. "Can't believe you came so much inside me, either."

"If I recall, you were quite literally begging me not to stop."

"No need to be smug about it, professor."

Arin does her best to look presentable in the mirror and fix her disheveled hair, shirt only half buttoned, and skirt a complete mess, but it all seems so futile. There's no real way to hide how she looks after getting railed over the sink relentlessly, or the cum still dripping all over her thighs that she doesn't even bother to clean up.

"We should get out of here before he comes back," Arin says after giving her appearance a once-over, making any minor adjustment to try and fix how ruined she looks. "Shall I leave first, professor?"

The question has only one obvious answer, but you still can't form your lips properly to speak it. "Not so fast, Miss Choi."

"Oh? Am I forgetting something?" Arin asks while running fingers through her hair again. You step towards her, pressing into her back to wrap your arms around her tiny frame before planting a kiss on the side of her neck.

"Yeah—me. You're not leaving this room without me."

You notice her grin in the mirror as your lips graze her skin again, nipping right on that sensitive spot that makes her gasp.

"Don't tell me you're wanting to go again. After we almost got caught. Again—"

"No, not yet," you say between kisses, drawing closer and closer up her neck. "Need a little bit more rest for that."

"You poor thing. Did my pussy wear you out that much, professor?"

"You can barely stand upright as it is," you retort, taking your mouth away from her neck for a moment. Arin stifles a laugh that turns into a moan when your hand creeps up her skirt to touch her dripping folds still leaking your cum. "You need this a lot more than I do."

"Is that so? Well—fuck," Arin moans, unable to hide her body betraying her words as she grips the edge of the counter when two of your fingers slide into her without warning, pushing a mixture of her nectar and the load you pumped inside deep into her messy cunt.

"It's too bad I can't continue this," you say, and withdraw those fingers from Arin's clenching pussy that so desperately tries to keep them in to no avail. "Let's get out of here. But you're not leaving my side."

"If you insist, professor." Arin has no further words, fixing up her skirt while so much thick seed oozes beneath. "But isn't it a little risky to leave together?"

"Probably. But besides, even if somebody does see us, so what? There's not much they can do about it even if they can already tell what just happened. And what are you always saying—how much you love the risk?"

"Guess I'm rubbing off on you, hmm?"

"Not a chance, Miss Choi," you correct, causing that grin across her face to grow wider. "I'm just tired of sneaking around so much."

"Me too, professor."

You turn to leave, opening the bathroom door to poke your head around the corner. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be anyone around, only a couple of students you don't recognize standing nearby chatting, paying no mind as you and Arin sneak out successfully together.

“Where are we headed?” asks Arin as she settles in right next to you, something that's going to take getting used to.

"Dunno. Cafeteria is still open. Guess we can head there first."

"Not if it's still raining. It's a bit of a trek, isn't it?"

"My car's right out front. And if we so happen to take a little detour..."

"Now who's being insatiable, professor?" she asks, with this little teasing giggle in her voice.

“What? Who said I planned on doing anything with you other than grabbing some dinner? You know, I don't think you've had anything in your mouth today but my—"

"Professor!" Arin's not used to your conversation being this open, or being on the opposite side of being so flustered. "Save it for when we're not outside! Or better, the back seat. With the doors locked, preferably."

"As you wish, Miss Choi. Besides, but there's nothing I rather eat than your—"

She desperately covers your mouth to stop any further words from escaping as you head to the parking lot, surprised to see there's nothing but abundant sunshine now. Even more surprising is the fact nobody looks twice as the two of you walk together. Maybe it's luck, or maybe everybody here knows damn well what happens on campus between you two.

And maybe you'll stop sneaking around campus every day, finding just enough time to spend the last half of your lunch hour buried between Arin’s thighs while she tries to hold her moans.

But maybe you won't.

#kpop smut #reader insert #arin smut #oh my girl smut #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #kpop fanfiction

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yourgentlegirlfriend · 1 month

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hi :3

this shit is absolutely not proof read sorry

Leon being so attentive when you first start working at the station. The throbbing in his pants almost painful when he watches as somebody walks into the building and you lean over in those slacks, pushing your glasses up as you ask the person to sign their name on the bottom of a document.

Does he ever talk to you? Of course not. You were an angel though, your voice so sweet when you let out a “Goodmorning” everytime he walks through the wide double doors. He was to scared to talk to you because what is he suppose to say? He would stutter surely. Or maybe even accident check you out right in front of you- his last intention is to make you uncomfortable.

How long is it suppose to last though? Watching you glance at him, suddenly going on your break at the same time as him?

Well you couldn’t help yourself. It was rare to see such a young, handsome cop. Rookie or not he definitely had your attention. So you made a plan, but It was failing miserably and he never even glanced at you.

It’s pouring rain on friday night, of course It is. Every taxi seems to ignore you, tears of frustration building in your eyes as you wave at another and the water splashes up from the blacktop onto your skirt.

Leon walks out of the station, pulling his hoodie over his head to see you literally soaked and desperately waving down a taxi. It was a rough day for you according to the talk around the office, you spilled all of the coffee for the meeting all over the paperwork in the office room and got the lecture of a lifetime.

Leon walked over to you, clearing his throat as he pointed to his car.

“Let me drive you home, I’m sure you don’t live far.”

The first time hearing his voice and it made your throat feel stuck. Your head nodding as you followed Leon over to his car down the street. What a gentleman, he pulls open the door for you, waiting for your shivering form to slip inside before he shuts the door and gets in himself.

Immediately when starting the car he flips the heater on, looking over at you as he reaches in the backseat and hands you a spare jacket.

“You must be freezing. You didnt see the clouds when you went outside this morning?”

Leon chuckled which made you smile, you needed kindness especially today. The car ride home was Leon just listening to you ramble on and on about how favoritism runs the front office and how you wish you were brave like him to go into the field. You could’ve talked forever but of course you point to your small house, tucking your wet hair behind your ears as you look at Leon, reaching for your purse to pay him of course.

Leon shoves your hand away and shakes his head as he unbuckles his seatbelt, he jumps out of his car and runs to your side opening the door for you. You can’t help but blush when he holds his jacket above your head on the way to the door. Thankfully you were so cold and red he definitely didn’t notice. When you get to the door you dig in your bag for your keys, your shaking hands pushing the small key into the handle before you shook the door open, you looked up at Leon and walked inside insisting he came in.

“If you won’t let me pay you, at least let me make you some hot cocoa.”

Leon didn’t mind the wait. You basically begged him to let you make him hot cocoa but you had to shower first. Not even ten minutes passed and you’re walking into your kitchen where he sat at the kitchen table, a slight smile on his face when he sees the slippers you’re wearing, the cute silk pajamas that he so badly just wanted to rub his fingers over.

“Thank you so much, plus you shouldn’t drive home anyways look at It out there.”

You were right but of course you were. It was pouring, the wind knocking the bushes against your window and now lightning striking against the dark sky. Leon just nodded in agreement as you placed one of the cups in front of him. Steam rising to the top as you mixed it for him once more before sitting down across from him.

It was awkward at first, then Leon started to talk about some of things he’s seen on patrol and you’re suddenly cracking up. Both of your mugs empty and your fingers playing with the fabric on his arm as you start to talk about just how stressed you are. It’s obvious in your face, the frustration starting to make you upset as you rub your fingers into your temple.

Leon frowns slightly, his hand by instinct coming up to push the hair from your face. He doesn’t know what happened but he mumbled a quiet.

“Let me help you.”

Extremely bold of him and he was sure you were gonna kick him into the pouring rain. But suddenly he had you laid on the couch, your pajamas on the floor and your legs spread open by his hand while his other hand is three digits deep inside of you. He could tell you needed this so badly, the way your walls squeezed around his fingers. He could watch your face for hours if he was able to, your eyes closed like you’re concentrating on something as he pushes his fingers up in a curling motion, the pads of his fingers brushing against that special spot inside you.

His eyes are hazy when he repositioned himself, laying on his stomach and pushing your legs up as his tongue sloppily laps at your clit, your legs resting against his strong shoulders as his hands slide down to your thighs, massaging them as he looks up at you continuing to lap at your folds as his fingers continue to push in and out of you.

He notices your slight shaking, the quiet whines leaving you as you push at his hands and he can feel the way you flutter around his fingers.

“L-leon-“

Is all you can manage to get out before he’s lapping faster, his face pushing further into you. his fingers slowing down to a softer rhythm as he feels you gush around his fingers, shushing you quietly as you cry out his name, your breath heavy as he pulls himself back up, his lips pressing against yours.

Leon pulls himself away, being careful when he pulls his fingers out of you, kissing the side of your face as he does so.

“It’s okay, nobody at the station has to know.”

Leon smirks as he kisses the side of your mouth and pulls you up to lay against his chest.

#yourgentlegf #milascreams #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #lol hey #its comeback season #my bi monthly fic #smut #re2 x reader #re2 leon

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yuellii · 8 months

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When reticent rainfall restricted the outings of the common-folk, Neuvillette tended to blame himself for causing these complications.

But storms in the Court of Fontaine symbolized sadness; and such sadness, he noticed, matched so simultaneously with his own demeanor. Rain always resembled the frown on his face—downpours always dawned from his despair. The weather was only a weaving track through his withering tears.

So why, now, was it beginning to pour when he caught sight of you patting the head of a Melusine?

The sight was what those old romance books would describe as heart-warming; endearing, too. Your hand ruffling through her little head of hair ( especially one that he speaks his morning greetings to every day ) was a sight akin to sweet Fontainian desserts. Who would’ve thought that you’d grace him with your appearance during his morning routine? Such a pleasant occurrence—and yet, he still feels cold rain begin to land at the top of his head.

“Oh no!” you exclaimed in quite a silly manner, talking to the Melusine whilst not noticing his eyeful presence from the sidelines. “It’s drizzling, let’s take cover aside the building!”

A twinge of guilt settled in the Chief Justice’s stomach immediately, blaming himself for the rain. To make matters even more confusing, he just couldn’t figure out why rain was beginning to fall in the first place. Were these droplets not the resemblance of his tears? Pitiful feelings of sorrow from the Hydro Dragon—was this gloomy weather not the definite denotation of that?

“Don’t worry, my body is accustomed to water!” the Melusine waved off. Then, she tossed her little guard hat to you, ushering it into your hands. “But your body is not, so please take some cover!”

The working Melusine clearly liked you; Neuvillette’s heart might have skipped a beat. Rain started falling a bit harder.

“Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette!” the little Melusine suddenly waved, calling him over. You looked surprised to see him yourself, but he tried his hardest to rid of this sudden nervousness. Somehow, for some reason, it was taking him a bit of adjusting just to walk over to you. He sweared he’s never felt like this before. “Good morning!” the Melusine brightly smiled.

“Good morning,” he responded shortly, slightly ducking his head in a makeshift sort-of bow. The man joined the two of you underneath the overhang of this quaint shop, standing across from you such that the little Melusine stood in between.

The little one turned back up to look at you. “You know, the Chief Justice greets all the working Melusine’s every morning!”

“Every morning?” you repeated, almost like you were talking to a young girl.

“Every morning!”

There’s a gentle smile on your face as you look down at the childlike excitement radiating from the Melusine between you. And despite all this energy coming from the little guard, Neuvillette found it impossible to take his eyes off of you, instead. How kind you looked, staring down at her as you listened carefully to her words—Neuvillette might’ve been entranced.

“The Chief Justice is a very good man,” you spoke down to the Melusine, “isn’t he?”

“Very much so!”

Neuvillette could feel his chest tighten once again. The currently light drizzle suddenly had a random burst of a downpour.

He cleared his throat, “Thank you.”

You hummed, finally looking up at him. “The rain is quite peculiar today, isn’t it?” His cheeks suddenly warmed from the way you looked at him. He couldn’t quite tell what was different this time, for you always looked at him like this—such a look of normalcy. Every time he came to see you during work, you looked just the same. Just another human; But now, he might’ve felt a bit insecure. Archons, perhaps you made him a little sick. He did not reject your attempts at small talk, however.

“What makes you say that?” he asked in response.

“It’s still sunny, good Monsieur.” And when he looked up to the sky, he found that you were right. Water only fell from a few, light clouds. Otherwise, bright blue skies could still be seen. Following his gaze to the lightness above, you continued, “The rain seems to be a bit happier today.”

Happier… Happy rain…

Was it possible to cry from happiness?

He’s never heard of such a thing.

“Maybe the legendary Hydro Dragon is crying from joy right now!” the Melusine perked up, agreeing wholeheartedly with your comment. You immediately laughed at her statement, finding some measure of endearment in her enthusiasm.

And when you looked back down at the Melusine with such a kind expression—an expression that trapped all air in his lungs—he might find himself agreeing with you, too. “Crying joy,” you repeated with a smile in your eyes. “Oh, I bet he is.”

#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette imagines #neuvillette #genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin imagines

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clairdelunelove · 1 month

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itadori yuuji is the type to believe that giving his girlfriend "princess treatment" is the bare minimum

yuuji who, upon getting a glimpse of the gloomy sky, will immediately shed his jacket to give it to you. he genuinely checks the weather app on his phone just for you. actually, it doesn’t even matter if the weather is terribly stormy or rainy– if he glances out the window and sees the trees swaying from the wind then he’s handing you his jacket. call him dramatic but he doesn’t want his girl to be cold! can’t fathom the thought of how inconsiderate he’d be if he just let you waltz in the frigid air and become sick. just the idea of that happening to you has him nauseated. and if you sheepishly decline, murmuring a worried excuse that he’ll be cold and whatnot, then he’s got a couple tricks up his sleeve! “got this new jacket over the weekend,” he’ll casually bring up while the two of you are walking together, “it’s really soft on the inside! here, wear it and lemme know!” and before you know it, you’re bundled up in his jacket and he’s zipping it up for you with the sweetest smile on his face. just continuously dotes on you in the ways that count. and on the rare occasion where it’s pouring rain outside while the two of you are together, he’s surprisingly prepared. has a travel-sized umbrella tucked away in his pocket for this situation. it sometimes stuns you at how well he plans anything that revolves around you; once, he jokingly mentioned how his brain works overtime whenever he’s with you. “I’m, like, actually thinking when you’re around me, yanno,” he muses and the seriousness in his voice always pulls a giggle from you. he’s in charge of holding the umbrella over the both of you but because of the size, his uncovered shoulder is usually drenched by the end of it. tries to change the subject if you notice. “hey, that small shop is selling figurines!” “they had them last week, yuu.” not to mention that half a week later he definitely gets sick from being in the rain for too long but he won’t admit it because he’s stubborn. also, during the stormy season, he’s the type to advise you to wait under some cover so he can get the car. will guide you to a brightly lit spot on the sidewalk so you can safely wait for him. “wait here for me!” he calls over his shoulder and hurriedly jogs to where he last parked the car. yuuji is especially precarious in these situations. scrambles out of the car to open the door and carefully help you in. even if he’s moving quickly, his actions are always so delicate towards you. buckles your seatbelt while pressing a soft kiss on your cheek and, in the process, doesn't bother to protect himself from the rain. ends up with his pink hair sticking to his forehead, weighed down from water droplets, and you’re instinctively brushing it away from his eyes. and when you pull away, he considers that it’s worth it. so even if the chilly weather numbs your fingertips, you’re warm from the amount of effort yuuji goes through to ensure that you’re alright.

yuuji who vigilantly guides you through crowded places so you can have the best view. is aware that you become a bit anxious due to the amount of restless people that are rushing and swarming to their destination. and yes, you acknowledge that everyone has their reasons but it still causes you to panic. yuuji has a foolproof plan for the date to go well, though. he typically opts to whisper sweet nothings in your ear while leading you through the crowd. “gosh,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and leans beside you, “today's almost as beautiful as you are.” and the way his voice is reduced to a dreamy sigh is incredibly charming. makes your heart flip and your palms sweaty. you’re awestruck at how thoughtful he is and he’s so careful about directing you through the crowd. has a steady arm wrapped around your waist as he eagerly points to the direction where the fireworks are being set off. it’s a beautiful evening. hues of burnt orange and titian paint the sky, a perfect backdrop for the event that caused onlookers to buzz in excitement. but yuuji’s gaze never leaves yours. watchful for the possibility of someone standing too close to you. he will deliberately jab an elbow and warn them with a, “watch it, man. almost knocked my girl over.” but then he’s back to being your good-natured boyfriend. angles towards you with a considerably soft glimmer in his eyes when you tug him closer. he’s always beside you, never straying too far away from you– he couldn’t. even if the world tried to pry you from his arms, he’d raise havoc. that’s the type of person yuuji is. and his touch makes you feel so secure– safe. just a comforting weight around your waist as he gently guides you along. unfortunately, the event was more popular than you expected. you can’t see a thing, regardless of whether you teetered on the tips of your toes or not. a frown pulls at your lips and disappointment rushes through you because it had been your idea to spend the night here. better luck next time, you supposed. but as you turn to break the news to the blushy haired male, he’s speaking up. “hop on my back so you can see better!” and before you can retort, he’s dropping to his knees and motioning for you to get on. “hurry! they’re starting!” nudging you onto his back, yuuji easily maneuvers to give you a piggyback ride in hopes of providing you a better view of where they’re manually lighting the fireworks. while you’re squealing at the sudden change of position, he takes the time to smooth a courteous hand over the folds of your clothes and chuckles at your genuine shock. “better, right?” he asks. and he’s so brawny that the action is a breeze. you readjust your hold on his shoulders despite how flustered you are by how effortless it is for him to carry you, “it is! I can see now!” and when you press a sticky kiss on his cheek, he’s in bliss. likes the mark of gloss and lipstick that you leave behind. won’t wipe it off even if he gets teased for it later on. “only the best seat in the house for the best girl in the world,” he declares as your warmth emanates onto him and the sky is streaked in prismatic fireworks.

yuuji who wordlessly reaches out to shoulder any grocery/shopping bag that dangles in your grasp. for instance, if you’re on a little weekend date at the nearby plaza and the two of you are browsing then he’s full-on excited. his honeyed eyes light up whenever he recognizes the billboard of your favorite shop and he immediately knows that this’ll be a great day. adores shopping with you! sure, a couple of the customers might cast a strange glance at him whenever he pleads for you to try on clothes that he suggests. “please? I haven’t seen you in this color,” yuuji says, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice despite the close proximity of a store employee, “I’ll pay for it! my treat!” and he gets a bit dizzy while imagining you in all the frills and lace. just pretty, delicate fabric sitting on your soft skin that causes his fantasies to run wild. but he can’t be blamed! you’re drop-dead gorgeous to him! and if you lack self-confidence in how you look then don’t worry. yuuji’s perfect at reassuring you that you’re beautiful and he firmly reminds you that people are meant to wear clothes– not the other way around. eventually, his utter devotion to you eases your worries so it’s a huge win for him. loves that you trust him enough to let him decide on what you should buy! and once (yuuji) the both of you are finished paying and the retail employee hands you the heap of bags, you’re bracing yourself to carry them. because they’re all filled to the brim with clothes meant for you. but don’t even think about touching them! yuuji’s strong, calloused hands instinctively pluck them away from you. he balances the heavy load on a single, broad shoulder and uses his unoccupied hand to hold onto yours. and, surprisingly, he’s silent during the whole ordeal. like holding your bags was part of his duty of being your boyfriend. if you ask him his reasoning for it then he’ll shoot you a cheeky grin and chirp, “it’s easier to hold your hand like this!” and when he had first done this, you rationalized that this seemingly small yet significant gesture would be forgotten the more your relationship with him blossomed. nope. if anything, it’s gotten more apparent. the blushy haired male will even carry your purse around if you allow him to! never bats an eye to the quizzical stares or mocking laughs that he gets from it. he holds a certain standard for himself in regards to your relationship with him. and in all seriousness, he just wishes to alleviate the burden and inconvenience for you– no matter how meager it is.

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuji jjk #itadori x y/n #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk x reader

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kiztae · 9 months

Note

hi! if ur not too busy do u think u could come up with something for size kink w soobin? pls & thank you ! 💛

SIZE KINK — c.soobin

genre: afab!reader, very suggestive, brothers bestfriend!soobin, bulge kink, size kink (duh), making out, dry humping, dirty talk? that's probably it. wc: 1.8k [requested]

a/n: might be a bit short. hope you enjoy anon!

just like any other saturday, soobin came over to visit your older brother beomgyu and spend the rest of it playing games in his room. it wasn't new to find soobin in the living room, sitting in the couch and scrolling through his phone mindlessly.

it was only natural, considering he almost lived there with you guys with how often he’d come by. so when you crossed his path, you didn't really mind it and conformed to uttering a soft 'hi soobin' before stepping into the kitchen.

"hi y/n" he looks up with a raise of his eyebrows in acknowledgment, shutting off his phone and standing up slightly to move towards the kitchen island. "how's today treating you?" he inquires with a playful smile as he leans over the counter with his elbows.

“it’s treating me fine, soobin. what about you?” you say between yawns while pouring yourself a glass of water.

you had just woken up a few minutes ago, whenever it was sunday you allowed yourself to sleep in as much as you’d like. which is why you were currently standing in the kitchen, wearing your small pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt you found in your brothers room, at noon.

“so far, so good. but i have to say, it’s even better now that you’re here.” he adds boldly, looking down at the marble and then back up at you.

you could see his eyes glimmer mischievously as he ended his sentence, the two orbs dropping lower and trailing down your exposed collarbones, your chest that was exposing just about enough cleavage to help his imagination, and finally, your hands. everything about you looked so dainty and small, soobin couldn’t help but think about how adorable and weirdly hot he found it.

hell, he knew it was wrong to think about his best friend's little sister under this lewd light but it was just so hard not to.

“you really have a way with words don’t you? save them for the girls on your campus.” you grin in response, emptying the glass of cold water in your mouth and feeling the new energy flowing through your body.

if you had to be honest, it’s not like you hadn’t thought about soobin like that before. you were aware of how attractive he was and especially how close to your ideal type he proved to be. soobin was tall, handsome and a literal giant in proportions but also adorable and cute at times.

nevertheless, you pushed those thoughts away quickly whenever you remembered who he was to you. he was your brother’s best friend, he was older than you, he had many other things he could care about other than you… so why bother?

sure, it wouldn't be awful to have some fun with him, especially after not having any form of sexual activity in the past months (not even a kiss), but you were sure it was all not going to happen anyway. so, you tried your best to stay unfazed by his comments and approaches, figuring he was just teasing you.

“i’m not sweet talking you y/n. i’m—“ before he could continue, beomgyu walked into the room with a loud “you can use the shower now!”, signaling that you could start your morning routine and that he could get back to hanging out with his best friend.

“what are you doing here? you could’ve waited in my room man.” he says with an awkward laugh as he taps his friend’s back.

“well, see you around.” you bid your goodbye and go off to continue with your day, not bothering to finish the earlier conversation.

why was getting up suddenly so hard? some sort of heavy weight was placed on top of you, not letting you move up or even around in the room of your mattress. this was not like any other sunday morning. were you still dreaming? after squirming in place for a little more you opened your eyes slowly and looked around despite the hazy vision of your only recent wake up call.

moving around (if you could even call it that) helped you figure out two things: 1. whatever it was that was stopping you was laying half on top of you and pressing your side 2. it was breathing. as soon as you realized the second, you started kicking your feet up and turning around in a hurry like crazy.

"woah—! what the—!" the lump under the other blanket started to blurt out in panic, until it moved up and revealed itself. that's when you were met with a confused soobin with the biggest case of bed hair you've seen.

before you could process it, he swiftly took your wrists into his hands and pushed them against the mattress effortlessly, shifting completely on top of you to keep your legs caged between both of his on your sides with ease. finally, if he got kicked once more he was sure he would get bruises.

"hey—!" you shout against his defense before his right palm comes up to cover your mouth clumsily. it was ridiculous how much of your face his hand covered then, all of your jaw and part of your neck being hidden behind it.

"shhh. don't you realize it's super early in the morning?" he whisper-shouts back, frowning and staring into your eyes, finally.

you relaxed and twisted your head around to take in the room, noticing that it was indeed still dark and that the sunset hadn't even happened yet. once you took it in, you took in the sight of soobin, at last. he was breathing loudly, his hair messy, his shirt hanging low on his chest and his eyes waving around as he looked into yours.

"why are you in my bed?" you murmur with a confused frown once he removed his hand, your breathing starting to speed up when you realize the position you're in right now. god, you hoped he was still sleepy enough to not notice the pink blooming in your cheeks.

"i— i don't know. i thought i went into beomgyu's room after i woke up to drink some water... but i guess not." he trails off, his eyes dipping lower from your eyes to your neck, your disheveled hair, your shirt that bunched up and exposed your waist, until he came back up to stare at your mouth for longer.

"i guess not..." you imitate quietly when your gaze also lays on his pouty lips and then back to his eyes.

"i'm sorry y/n" he states in a more deep voice, his tone sounding hushed as he leaned in closer to you, the hand holding your wrist pushing further up and the other dipping the mattress on your side.

"huh? for what?" you mutter out in surprisement at the sudden apology, your voice breaking softly once you feel him get closer.

"for not holding myself back." he whispers back, his hand interlacing with yours and pinning it deeper into the sheets as he catches your breath in a swift kiss. the action earned a small gasp from you, your form stiffening under his hold briefly, unsure of what was happening, until you sighed into his mouth and leaned in.

he softly groaned in satisfaction once he felt you relax and open your mouth more for him, granting him permission to kiss you deeper. "i'm such a shit best friend aren't i? i just couldn't hold it in anymore." he comments as he leaves your lips for a second, the loss of contact already making you disappointed.

but he doesn't stop. his free hand grazes your side softly and grasps your waist roughly, another gasp coming from you that's quickly swallowed by soobin's lips on yours. his kisses are desperate, hungry even. it's like he doesn't want to waste a single second when he's kissing you.

his tongue dips into your bottom lip and then brushes against yours, the wet sound of it starting to get more noticeable as his mouth melts with yours. you weren't sure you expected soobin to get messy like this, saliva mixing with yours, kisses sloppy and needy, you were loving it.

soobin was heavy on top of you, he was making sure he didn't lay his whole body weight, knowing for sure he would crush you, but he was letting himself press against you just enough for you to be trapped below him. if he wanted to, he could do anything he wanted to you, easily. he could make you his personal ragdoll, move you around however he wanted, take you however he wanted.

as his mouth detached from yours to dip lower and start biting and nipping at your neck, the hand on your waist trailed up and stopped right before your breast. "can i? please.." he says in a hushed voice as he licks a small stripe on the bites he left, his breathing ragged already. following your nod he takes your breast in his hand, his grasp being enough to cover it whole. once he gets permission his hands start roaming around your body more and more, grabbing whatever he can. his palms kneading your ass, then playing with your nipples, grasping your hip tightly as he groans into your mouth between kisses.

"you're so small— i could break you if i'm too rough, couldn't i?" he purrs into your ear, biting your earlobe gently and grinning. he didn't know what got into him but seeing you so weak and helpless in his hold was driving him crazy, he never knew he was so big until now.

"you're just— too big." the whiny tone in your voice as you replied was what did it for him. how could you say that to him and expect him not to go insane?

"fuck, don't do that to me." he blurts out as he lets his head fall on your chest, his hands tightening around your hips. "i won't be able to stop." he warns before his fingers dig into your sides and he pushes himself against you, his giant bulge rubbing on your underwear harshly.

"oh my god— soobin, you're huge" you moan out as the shocks of pleasure hit you, your hips instantly jolting forwards to meet his. at this, he starts thrusting his hips harder and faster against you, rocking the bed carelessly.

"yeah? bet that if i fucked you, you'd have a bulge right here. wouldn't you baby?" he questions while rubbing your tummy right above where his dick was pushing into you. "i'd fuck you so deep, you'd feel it in your stomach." he adds with a smirk, looking right into your eyes as if to taunt you. he never once stopped rocking his hips against you, the tip of his cock starting to leak through his boxers and onto your panties, hitting you right with each thrust.

"then do it." you plead in between whines, taking his cheek in your hand and staring into his eyes desperately. "fuck me until you break me."

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heeliopheelia · 11 months

Text

𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒 ☼

genre: fluff

word count: 2.6k

an: i'm sorry for the length (especially the sunoo's one), hope that makes up a little bit for my absence :))

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

You jog up the stairs to Heeseung's apartment, soaked to the bones from the pouring rain. You rush all the way up the staircase, teeth chattering as you spot your boyfriend already waiting for you with his door open.

"Oh my god, I'm freezing!" You whine out as you throw yourself on his neck, clinging to his body in a poor attempt to steal some of his body warmth.

Heeseung yelps at the feeling of your wet clothes and pulls you inside the apartment, kicking the door closed behind him and wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Are you crazy? How could you walk all the way here in a fucking downpour?" He scolds you halfheartedly, rubbing his arms up and down your body to help with warming you up.

"Wasn't my fault! It came down on me like halfway here," you mumble into his neck. "I missed you too much."

You can hear him chuckling and he pulls away from you, grabbing you by the hand and giving one last look at your sorry looking self.

"Come on, let's take care of it."

You let him lead you to his bedroom and you stand next to him patiently, waiting as he digs through his closet in an attempt to find his warmest clothes.

"Alright, these will do, I think," he says and tosses the items on his bed.

He stands right in front of you and leans down to help you tug your wet shirt up to put his hoodie over your head next. It takes you both a hot struggling minute to take the soaked jeans off your legs but after a while you succeed and tug on a pair of Heeseung's gray shorts. He reaches down and pulls on the strings to tighten them on your hips comfortably. You feel so content with the feeling of the wet clothes finally being replaced with the warm, your boyfriend-scented ones.

"Thanks," you say and smile up at him, raising to your tiptoes to press a loving kiss to his jawline.

"You're very welcome," he responds, lips stretching out in a wide smile as well. He wraps his arms around your middle and pulls you closely to his chest before leaning down to meet his lips with yours.

PARK JAY

With a playful scowl, you shove Jay gently with your elbow. "That's not what I said, liar!"

"Yes, it is. You're just in denial," he teases back and flicks your forehead with a chuckle.

It's so late at night, you can almost see the sun rising above the horizon, yet neither of you feels tired as you just can't get enough of each other.

You haven't been on a date for nearly a month as both of your tight schedules prevented you from seeing each other for so long, so now that you finally have the time with him, you're going to make every minute of it worthy.

You're walking by the river, Jay's arm wrapped around your waist and fingers caressing your side gently. There's not a single soul apart from the two of you here in such ungodly hour and you bask in the silent flow of the river.

Jay's hand suddenly brushes over your forearm and he gasps quietly when he feels the sharp goosebumps covering your skin. He turns his head to you and is instantly met with your sheepish smile.

"I told you to bring a jacket," he scolds you. "You never listen to me."

You stifle a laugh at seeing your boyfriend so worked up. You raise your arm up and rub your fingers on the frowned skin in between his eyebrows. Grabbing his hand and wrapping it back around your waist, you try to force him to walk forward but he stubbornly digs his heels in the gravel.

"Oh, come on. It's summer! And the forecast said it would be warmer today," you say with a pout. "It's not a big deal, though. I'm not even that cold, let's go."

"You're insane if you think I'd let you walk around like that," he scoffs and starts shrugging off his own leather jacket.

"No! Keep it on, now you're gonna be cold!" You protest quickly but still let him wrap the warm clothing over your shoulders. "See? You're shaking like a leaf."

Jay only rolls his eyes at your teasing and pulls you close to him again as you finally resume walking. "Am not."

You giggle at him but then something comes to your mind. "Wait, I have a better idea! Stay still."

You stop Jay and walk around him, only to jump on his back and wrap your arms around his neck. He stumbles slightly at your unexpected weight on top of him but quickly regains his balance, placing his hands under your knees. You happily tuck your head in his shoulder and place a kiss to his sensitive skin, earning a satisfied huff out of him.

"See? Now the both of us are warm."

SIM JAKE

You ring the doorbell and wait for one of the boys to open the door. Jake has texted you about half an hour ago that he'd just come back from his football practice and that you should drop by. You don't need to be asked twice, so you grabbed some of your stuff and headed to his apartment.

You hear a voice calling something from behind the door before it opens and you're greeted by Heeseung's smiling face.

"Hi," you say and walk in as he opens the door for you widely.

"Jake's in his room," he answers your question before you even have the chance to ask it.

You nod your head with a smile. "Thanks."

When you walk into the pointed bedroom, you're greeted by the evening darkness — well, besides the light coming from your boyfriend's phone that's currently lying on his chest, most likely forgotten as the video playing on it put Jake to sleep. Shaking your head with a small laugh, you walk up to the bed and put his phone aside before settling up right next to him.

When you press your lips to his cheek softly, Jake wakes up and looks at you with dim eyes.

"Hi," you whisper with a giggle, hugging him with a smile on your lips.

"You're here already," he says, voice a little raspy. He pulls you closer and kisses your lips. "Sorry, didn't mean to fall sleep."

"It's okay," you hum before untangling yourself from his arms and getting up.

Jake points to his desk. "The shirt's there."

Just like you've done so many times before, you quickly change into the t-shirt that he left you and neatly fold your clothes on his desk chair. Dressed in a proper attire, you go back to the bed and immediately are caged by his arms that pull you closely to his chest.

"God, you look the best in my clothes," he mumbles as his lips nuzzle your cheek.

You let out a small laugh. "You think so?"

Jake hums and you feel his slim fingers stroking your skin underneath his t-shirt. "Absolutely. I would show you if I wasn't so damn tired, trust me."

PARK SUNGHOON

You reach your arms above your head, your hand meeting the soft skin of Sunghoon's cheek as you caress it gently. The two of you are cuddled up on his couch, trying to watch some sitcom but unsurprisingly ending up talking and bickering throughout most of the episode. You're wearing Sunghoon's hoodie that you've stolen couple hours ago. He loves when you do that. Seeing you in his clothes brings him so much warmth and giddiness, though he rarely says anything.

"You still have some of that popcorn left?" You ask, tilting your head backwards to take a glimpse of your boyfriend's face.

His hands are resting inside the front pocket of your hoodie, fingers absently drawing circles on your covered stomach.

"One would think you'd have enough for today," he teases with a snicker, his fingers curling up and tickling you gently, making you squirm with a strangled yelp. "You ate two bowls all by yourself. If you keep it up, you're gonna end up with a tummy ache."

You hum in agreement, settling back down on his chest. "I guess you're right."

You sit in silence only for a short while before Sunghoon asks suddenly, "I can make you a sandwich if you're hungry though?" He moves his head to the side to make it easier for you to look at him.

"Really?" You gasp from excitement, surprised at the kind act of your never-cooking boyfriend. "You'd do that for me?"

Sunghoon laughs and pinches your side playfully. "Am I really such a bad boyfriend that my girlfriend gets this excited over a sandwich?"

"You're the best one of a kind," you chirp, grinning up at him.

Sunghoon scoffs and leans forward to press his warm lips to your temple. "Fine. I'll be right back."

KIM SUNOO

You wake up as a sudden cramp twists your guts. You whine quietly, rolling to your side and away from Sunoo who's been holding you tightly for the entire night. You slowly open your eyes, blinking to adjust to the light coming out of the window as sunrise lights up the room thinly.

You turn around to face your sleeping boyfriend, only to end up gasping as your eyes land on the red stain on the bed. You quickly get up from the bed, head spinning from the abrupt movement. You tear up out of embarrassment, even if you know it's not your fault that your period started earlier than it was supposed to.

"What's going on?" Sunoo asks groggily as he takes in your panicked state in confusion. He sits up on the bed, concerned at the sight of your teary eyes. "Are you okay? What happened?"

You shake your head, knowing you're being a little dramatic but the fear of him getting mad or even grossed out lays a shadow over your common sense.

You speak up quietly. "I got my period early and stained your bed. I'm so sorry."

You watch as Sunoo's eyes drift down to the bedding before he clicks his tongue and stands up from the bed. You hide your face in your hands out of embarrassment.

"I'm sorry! I didn't-"

"Oh, come on, you really think I'd be mad at you for that?" He interrupts you and wraps his arms around you. "Please, don't cry, angel. It's not your fault and it's okay."

"But I ruined your sheets!" You whine out, hiding your face in the crook of his neck instead.

"You didn't ruin anything, silly! It's just a little blood," he scoffs and leans down to kiss the top of your head. "Hold on, alright?"

Relief rushes through your veins at his peaceful reaction, but then again, how could you ever expect anything else from your angel? You suddenly feel silly for overreacting like that but Sunoo doesn't give you a lot of time to overthink as he comes back with a pair of sweatpants in his hand.

"Here, get changed into these and I'll take care of the bed, alright?"

You nod your head before pecking his cheek and going to the bathroom to change. After cleaning up and tugging on the sweats, you come back to the bedroom and notice that he's already replaced the stained sheet with a clean one.

"See? Nothing happened, don't worry," he assures you one more time as he walks over to you and grabs your hand. He drags you over to his bed and crawls up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist and bury his face in your hair. "Now, let's go back to sleep because it's too damn early to be awake."

YANG JUNGWON

His thumb strokes the soft skin on your palm as the both of you walk down the park. You're just coming back from your date since it's gotten a little too windy to stay outside, so now you're on your way back home.

"No, she told me not to do that but I- God!" You interrupt yourself out of annoyance as your hood gets blown away from your head for like the hundredth time this hour. Murmuring under your nose, you tug it back on rather aggressively which makes Jungwon snicker quietly.

You keep talking. "So, as I was saying, I- Oh my god, I'm gonna lose my mind!" You cry out in defeat when another strong whisk of wind swipes the hood off the top of your head. Your boyfriends laughs louder now as he's been just wondering how much time will it take for you to finally lose it.

"You just can't get a break, can you?" He teases before stopping and walking in front of you.

You watch in confusion as he fixes the hood at your neck, then brings his hands up and tucks away the loose hair that wind has blown in your face. His grin is permanent on his face as he reaches his arms up and takes off his black beanie before tugging it over your hair instead. You instantly feel warmer and it's your turn to flash Jungwon with a smile now.

"Thanks," you say and run your hand through his thick hair to tame them a little.

Jungwon catches your hand in his and lifts it up to his face, only to end up pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "Just don't wanna have you sick by tomorrow."

NISHIMURA RIKII

"Loser!"

Your laughter echoes in Niki's head as another snowball hits him right in the shoulder. He sends you a playful glare before leaning down into the snow and collecting a fistful of it, only to respond to your sudden attack with a throw at your head. You duck down slightly and avoid the snow from smacking you right in the face.

"That was rude!" You exclaim, instantly throwing another snowball into his hood as he turns around.

Niki yelps and looks at you in shock. "How dare you?" He asks, trying his best to cover his smile. "You better hide cause I won't let that slide."

You listen to his words and jog a couple meters back with a giggle. When you turn around, you notice your boyfriend standing almost face to face with you, holding a pile of snow in his gloved hand. He comes closer to you without the intention to throw it at you and you gasp as you realize what he's about to do.

"Don't even try," you warn him, backing away from him. "You're not gonna rub it in my face, you clown."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I was you," Niki teases before launching himself onto you.

As you try to dodge him, you quickly start backing away with your hands protecting your face. Next thing you know, you're tripping over the curb of the sidewalk and falling back into the large pile of snow. You yelp as your body is instantly engulfed with cold. You try to push yourself up from the pile and instantly feel your hand freezing up as you forgot to bring your gloves from home.

"Geez."

You can hear Niki mumbling from above you before his large hands pull you up from the pile. When you're standing back on your feet, he starts to dust you off from the snow sticking to your clothes and hair. You smile at him widely, watching as he fixes the collar of your jacket with furrowed eyebrows.

Without saying anything else, he unwraps his scarf and places it around your neck instead, securely tying it and tucking your wet hair underneath it. At the end he slides his gloves onto your frozen hands and hides them inside his jacket as he pulls you closely to his chest.

"Thank you. Best boyfriend who?" You grin up at him and raise to your tiptoes to peck his jaw sweetly.

Niki flicks your nose. "Loser."

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19

#it's been sitting in my drafts unfinished for like a year now help #now i think im gonna write some angsty one #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen reaction #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff

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nataliasquote · 2 months

Text

Double the trouble | new families | n romanoff

Summary: the twins take a trip to meet new family members, but it doesn’t go as smoothly as Natasha wanted

Warnings: cute Mama Nat content

wc: 4.4k

Pairings: WandaNat

Note: I’m not a WandaNat stan, it’s never been my first choice of ship, so tbh I’m still questioning how I ended up with this pairing in this series. Which is why I focus so heavily on Natasha’s relationship with the twins, because it’s something I’m used to writing. Hopefully that clears up why my writing is so imbalanced x

-⧗-

Natasha would be lying if she said that the thought of what was coming today hadn’t kept her awake for most of the night. Wanda slept soundly by her side, unaware of the anxiety coursing through her wife’s body. The older redhead kept her eyes glued to the bedroom door, expecting one if not both toddlers to come running in in the middle of the night as monsters plagued their dreams. But it wasn’t weirdly quiet, which didn’t help to settle Natasha.

It was barely 5:30am by the time she had pulled herself out of bed and padded down to the kitchen, careful not to make any noise past the twins’ rooms. The sun had began to rise as she poured the first of many mugs of coffee, so Natasha wandered out onto the patio and sank onto one of the damp chairs that sat there. She loved the stillness of the morning, a start contrast to the usual chaos of her life. The air was crisp and fresh and just smelled like summer. Her favourite season.

A familiar set of footsteps echoed through the empty kitchen and Natasha smiled, looking over her shoulder just as her wife stepped through the patio doors. Wanda was definitely still half asleep, her hair mussed up from tossing and turning but she still looked as beautiful as ever. She carefully leaned down to give Natasha a kiss before looking out across the view their garden gave them. The house sat on the side of a hill, with the bustling city coming alive beneath them. They loved their location and wouldn’t change it for the world.

“How are you feeling about today?” Wanda asked, settling in the chair across from Nat as the cold stone beneath her feet started to get uncomfortable.

“I don’t know.” Natasha stared into the dark depths of her coffee, her eyes glazing over as she got lost in her thoughts. “That’s what scares me.”

Wanda softly touched her hand across the table. “The girls will be fine. Yelena will love them, as will Melina.”

“They’re not who I’m worried about.” Alexei had the biggest mouth and Natasha couldn’t shake the feeling that he would traumatise her babies. Especially Y/n, who had been really wary about guys recently.

“We can handle him, he won’t hurt them. He’s harmless Nat, except for when he talks. But you’ve got ground rules and Melina knows them, so I know she’s just as anxious as you are that he makes a good impression.”

Natasha just nodded but nibbled on her lip, not fully convinced. Motherhood was her favourite thing in the world, but it sure did attack her nerves and leave them frayed.

“Why don’t you go and wake the babies and I’ll start on breakfast. They can’t sleep for too long otherwise the drive will be hell.” A 7 hour drive with two 3.5 year olds… sounds like so much fun.

Wanda disappeared into the kitchen to get ingredients for breakfast whilst Natasha slowly made her way upstairs. By the layout of the house, the door to Y/n’s room was first. The twins’ rooms were conjoined but separated by a door, allowing them to have their own space.

The hallway light lit the way to Y/n’s bed and Natasha crouched down beside her youngest, stroking her messy curls out of her face as she slept. Despite having Natasha’s hair and eyes, the twins’ nose was definitely Wanda’s, and was Natasha’s favourite thing. Y/n’s tiny lips were parted and she slept peacefully, unaware of her Mama’s presence.

“Y/n, time to wake up sweetheart,” Nat said in her softest voice. She rubbed her daughter’s arm and smiled as the little girl frowned, her whole face screwing up. A small yawn escaped from her as she turned to face the one who disturbed her sleep, but all hard feelings vanished as she came face to face with her admittedly favourite parent.

“Mama,” she mumbled, reaching out with heavy arms. Natasha almost melted at the sight and gently scooped her up, the dead weight of her daughter making the task very inelegant. Almost immediately, Y/n snuggled into her neck and closed her eyes, falling back asleep in the comfort of Natasha’s arms.

Nat kept a strong hold on her before she pushed open the door to Isla’s room, surprised to see the little girl sat up in her bed. She’s clearly heard the noise next door.

“Mama,” was her response, her princess pyjama-covered body flinging itself out of bed and stumbling over to Nat to attach to her legs. “Wakey time?”

“It is wakey time, baby.” Isla’s curls were equally as messy as Y/n’s were, so Natasha didn’t even bother to smooth them down. “How did you sleep?”

“Good. Mr E kept me safe from the monsters.” Mr E was Isla’s stuffed elephant that she’d had since she was a baby. It was a little worn out but she slept with it every single night without fail. An adorable sight.

“He’s doing his job, I see.” Isla toddled over to free him from her tangled covers. “You hungry baby? I think mommy is making pancakes.”

“Pancapes?”

“Let’s go see.” With Y/n still fast asleep against her chest and Isla clutching onto her other hand, it was a miracle Natasha didn’t tumble down the stairs. She was very much relieved when Isla went running over to Wanda and Nat was able to hold Y/n with two arms.

“Don’t tell me she fell asleep again?” Wanda said with a laugh, helping Isla carry her sippy cup over to the table. She settled her toddler into her high chair and kissed her cheeks lovingly.

“Of course she did!” Natasha was leaning against the back of her chair with Y/n curled up in her lap, chest rising and falling almost in sync with Natasha’s heartbeat. “I don’t know if she slept well.”

“Is it mean to say I hope she didn’t?” Wanda asked, adding a ladle of pancake batter to her pan. “Would make our lives certainly a lot easier.”

“Mommy, pancapes please!” Isla announced, drumming her little fists against her plastic tray table. She kicked her legs eagerly in anticipation as the smell of fresh pancakes filled the air.

“Patience, baby girl. Mommy needs to cook them first.”

Natasha had successfully woken Y/n up for the second time, but this time the scowl on her small face did not let up.

“Hey grumpy girl,” she cooed, bouncing Y/n softly as though she was a baby. “Mornings really aren’t your thing, huh?”

“Here,” Wanda handed Natasha Y/n’s cup of milk, her go to in the morning. The twins had outgrown their morning bottles, but the comfort of warm milk at breakfast was something they both still enjoyed. “Hello grouchy,” she said with a kiss to her head.

Y/n did not stop glaring at everyone throughout breakfast, and Natasha and Wanda found it thoroughly entertaining. Her poor pancakes were being murdered by her tiny plastic fork and spoon, and with the combined mess of her squished raspberries, it sure looked like a massacre.

The plan was to drive to Melina’s in the morning and arrive late afternoon, just in time for the twins’ dinner and bedtime. This was the first time they would be sleeping in a different bed and both mothers were anxious to see how they would handle it. Hence the shortened night sleep.

Bags and car packed, twins buckled into their car seats and google maps yelling directions from Natasha’s phone, they were finally on the road. Y/n watched the world go by out of the window, the fluffy summer clouds catching her attention. She reached her hand up and stroked it through the air, trying to grab them.

Beside her, Isla was playing with Mr E, of course. He had one ear smaller than the other thanks to her teething phase, but she still cuddled him close and babbled to him quietly.

So far, so good, Wanda thought.

But she’d spoken too soon.

One hour. That’s how long they’d been on the road for before the sound of cries came from the back seat. There was still another 45 minutes before their first scheduled stop so Natasha kept driving, trying to block out the piercing screams behind her.

Wanda craned around in her seat, trying to pinpoint who was crying. But seeing Isla’s smiling face, she knew it was Y/n. She was sat directly behind Wanda’s chair which made the whole situation a lot harder.

“It’s ok, baby, it’s ok. Mommy’s here.” She tried her best to soothe her, rubbing her knee just about. But Y/n continued to cry and now Isla was looking a bit put out. The last thing the mothers needed was two crying toddlers.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Natasha asked, taking a small look at her daughter before she merged onto the highway. “Wands, can you-“

“I’ve got her, don’t worry.” She turned around in her chair more, trying to look directly at Y/n. “Don’t cry baby, what’s wrong?”

“My stuffy!” Y/n wailed, kicking her feet against the hard plastic of her seat. “My stuffy!”

Isla looked at her sister and then looked at the floor in front of her, spotting the familiar orange and black stuffed animal in the wrong place.

“Mommy she drop it,” Isla helpfully pointed out, gesturing down in front of Y/n’s seat. Wanda glanced down and sighed. Y/n had dropped her favourite tiger plushie onto the floor and out of reach, triggering her little outburst. The Sokovian reached behind her seat to grab it but failed; it was too far away. Y/n saw her unsuccessful attempt and cried harder. Her tiger was doomed.

“I’ll get it,” Natasha muttered, taking one hand off the steering wheel and reaching it behind Wanda’s seat whilst keeping the car steady on the road. She was such a typical dad driver, almost as if she were reaching back for candy.

“Nat no, you drive, I’ll do it. You really forget I’m a witch don’t you.” Natasha smiled sheepishly and retracted her hand, allowing Wanda to retrieve the toy with a few simple red wisps. She brought it to the front and dusted off and bits of dirt before handing it back to Y/n who seized it gladly and stuffed her face into its fur, her cries ceasing immediately.

“Noisy,” Isla said, making Nat and Wanda burst out laughing. Oh she was such a hypocrite even at the ripe age of three.

The gas station they stopped at luckily had a McDonald’s attached, which meant the twins struck up a chant for Happy Meals the second they saw their favourite restaurant. And luckily for Wanda and Natasha, their girls had a habit of falling asleep after lunch, so this was impeccably timed.

Two chicken nugget happy meals silenced the twins enough for the moms to get some peace and quiet. Natasha picked at her wrap whilst Wanda chewed on her fries, not overly fond of the burgers sold here. The restaurant wasn’t too busy, with it being a Wednesday, but Y/n and Isla still peered around at everyone who passed their table, making several elderly couples coo over their matching hair and outfits.

Wanda’s guilty pleasure was dressing them in the same outfit. She had to, before they got too old and refused. Natasha let her do most of their clothes shopping and each week she would return, squealing over the latest adorable outfit.

Y/n and Isla were comfortable but cute today. Black leggings and little grey sweatshirts with their newest pair of white converse. If Wanda was the clothes lover, Natasha was the shoes. Something about tiny versions of her own shoes made her heart clench and she just couldn’t refuse them. But of course there was a spare change of clothes on hand, just in case.

After another 5 hours of driving and stops, the SUV turned down a street that was incredibly familiar to the redhead behind the wheel. She drove slowly, taking in her surroundings. This place had never been associated with a happy time in her life, and receiving the news that Melina had bought the house again shocked her.

She cut off the engine in the driveway and felt Wanda’s hand slip into hers, giving her an encouraging squeeze. Wanda didn’t need to read her wife’s mind to feel the anxiety radiating off her, so she stepped up to be her rock and grounded her instantly.

“Where is this?” Isla piped up, her eyes glued to the window and the trees outside. Y/n was still half asleep but followed her sister’s gaze.

“Let’s go find out.” Natasha climbed out of her side and went to get Isla, whilst Wanda did the same with Y/n. The youngest was far too tired to want to walk, so she clung to Wanda’s cardigan desperately, wanting the safety of her mommy in this strange environment. But the second Natasha appeared she reached out, tiny fists grabbing at the air.

“Come on big girl,” Natasha groaned, taking Y/n from Wanda and settling her on her hip. “Let’s go see your aunt and grandma.”

Y/n didn’t clock what she said, too focused on playing with Natasha’s hair. Wanda held Isla’s hand tightly as the four made their way to the front door. There was a faint rustling once the doorbell was pressed and the door flung open to reveal a grinning blonde woman.

“They’re here!” She yelled, bouncing on her toes in excitement. “Natasha! You brought my babies!”

The redhead rolled her eyes. “Hello to you too Yelena.” Yelena barely acknowledged her sister, too busy smiling widely at the small red haired girl in her arms. “Are you going to invite us inside or are we going to stand here and freeze?”

“Yelena let your sister and her family inside!” A voice called from the dark hallway, making the blonde woman smile sheepishly and step to the side. Natasha tightened her grip around Y/n and stepped inside, focusing her attention on her daughter to keep her anxiety at bay. Walking into her childhood home had hit her harder than she’d expected.

Isla held onto Wanda’s hand as the family entered, suddenly feeling really shy in this new space. The interior was dark but weirdly comforting, the dated furniture only adding to the odd charm. Wanda could see how tense Natasha was just from the way she was standing and she wished she could comfort her.

The atmosphere was tense and awkward, and even the twins sensed it. Isla had stopped smiling and Y/n looped her arms around Natasha’s neck, pulling her closer. Nat kissed her hand and smiled reassuringly.

“How was your drive?” A dark haired woman asked, appearing in the corner of the room like a ghost. Pale skin, dark hair, Y/n was intrigued.

“Not too bad, a bit of traffic in the city but we got through it.”

“Mama who’s that?” Isla asked, holding onto Natasha’s pant leg whilst looking between the two strange women in front of her.

Natasha crouched down and placed Y/n on the floor, holding both of her girls by their waists.

“Ok girls, this is Mama’s sister,” she pointed to Yelena who gave a thumbs up. “And that’s your grandma. That’s my mom.” Y/n stared at Melina with hesitation. She could hear how uncertain her Mama was and that manifested itself in her own thoughts too. Even thought she was only two and a half.

“Who wants to give Aunt Yelena a hug?” Yelena sat on the floor and patted in front of her.

“They’re not dogs, Lena. They don’t just run over to you like that.”

Yelena frowned. “Well I don’t know! Fanny does it!”

At the mention of his name, the Akita perked his head up and trotted over to Yelena before settling down with his head in her lap. The twins’ eyes lit up at the sight of the dog.

“Doggy! Can we pet Mama?”

Wanda studied the scene in front of her. “Is he well trained, Yelena?” The blonde nodded and so did Melina. “Go on then girls. But be gentle.”

Y/n and Isla held each others hand and slowly approached the dog, completely missing the way Yelena grinned as they approached. She wanted to be the cool Aunt who spoilt her nieces and this was a win in her eyes.

“If you sit next to him he might give you kisses,” she said in her heavy Russian accent, gently pushing Fanny off her lap to let the twins take a seat. Y/n was more hesitant, letting Isla take Yelena’s hand first. The blonde crossed her legs and settled the small girl into her lap before holding out her arm for Y/n.

“It’s ok sweetheart,” Natasha encouraged when Y/n looked back at her moms. But that didn’t work. The youngest girl ran back to her Mama and pressed into her side, not trusting strangers like her sister did. She watched from the safety of Natasha’s arms as Isla stroked the Akita and giggled as his wet kisses tickled her cheek.

“Do you want to come with me and get a drink, Y/n?” Melina asked, smiling softly at the young girl with her hand out. Y/n looked up at Wanda and Natasha who nodded towards Melina, trying to get her daughter to detached herself from Natasha.

“You can’t stay with me,” Natasha said firmly, although her voice still had that gentleness to it. But Y/n really was struggling, and her change in voice made the little girl’s eyes well up with tears. Natasha glanced at Wanda with a sigh and quickly excused herself and Y/n back outside.

“What’s wrong, detka? Why the tears?”

“Just want you,” Y/n mumbled, rubbing her eye. Natasha shook her head and refused the toddler’s request for cuddles. “Mama!”

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” Her motherly instincts had hit the nail on the head and Y/n nodded. Not necessarily sleep-tired, but more from being in a new place. She just wanted to go home and be with her mamas but clearly that wasn’t an option. “Why don’t we see if grandma Melina has some milk or juice so you can have a nap.”

Y/n brushed against her lips with her thumb as she thought. “I get tiger?” Natasha allowed her to retrieve the forgotten stuffed animal from the car before they headed back inside to find Wanda sat on the floor giving Fanny some belly tickles with Isla.

Nat gave Y/n a small nudge of encouragement and watched as she toddled over to Melina, clutching her tiger for courage.

“Milk, p’ease?” She asked quietly,

Melina’s heart softened at her request and she glanced at Natasha fondly. “Of course, let’s go find some.” Offering her hand to the small girl who took it after a few seconds, they disappeared into the kitchen, Natasha following to loiter in the doorway between the two rooms.

Melina had picked Y/n up and sat her on the counter whilst she rummaged in the fridge to find a glass bottle of milk. She may act cold, but the second she’d found out the twins were visiting she had gone out and bought all the supplies she could think of. High chairs, plastic cups and plates, toys. You name it, she probably bought it.

And Natasha couldn’t quite believe it when she saw her ‘mom’ pull out a brand new cup with Y/n’s favourite princesses on it. The toddler smiled and accepted the drink, sipping on it carefully through the lid.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Natasha said, crossing her arms against her chest.

Melina shrugged off her comment, not wanting to be complimented. “I never got to do it with you.”

Natasha smiled a watery smile and crossed the threshold, gravitating towards the dining room window that overlooked the garden she knew so well. “You kept our old swingset.”

“Didn’t have the heart to take it down.”

“I used to love it so much-“

“You thought if you swung high enough you’d be able to touch the stars,” Melina cut her off, looking at Y/n fondly. “She looks so much like you.”

Natasha’s eyes lingered on the desolate swing set for a few more moments. If she looked hard enough she swore she could see tiny lights in the trees, dancing around the branches like forest stars.

“She’s got your heart too.”

Natasha wiped a stray tear and turned around, pressing her lips into a tight smile. “She’s my little miracle.”

“What happened with her?”

Natasha leaned her hands on the closest dining chair and sighed, not really wanting to relieve the moment that still felt so fresh in her mind, despite it occurring over two years ago.

“She had a heart defect when she was born and the doctors didn’t pick up on it right away. It was obvious that she was a bit smaller than Isla but they thought that was it. It wasn’t until a couple days later that she started struggling to breathe because her heart wasn’t working properly. I really thought we were going to lose her before we even brought her home.”

Y/n was oblivious that she was being talked about and she just sat there idly drinking her milk and fiddling with the technological watch on Melina’s wrist. She didn’t understand, but the sound of her Mama’s voice was soothing and made her eyelids start to droop slowly.

“Does she still have trouble now?”

Natasha shook her head. “Thankfully no. We still have to have regular check ups just to make sure it’s all ok, but the surgery seemed to have fixed the problem.” She couldn’t help but pout at Y/n tiredness as she noticed from across the room. “Would you mind making another cup for Isla? They could do with a nap before dinner.”

Melina happily obliged and sent Natasha back into the living room with a cup for Isla who gratefully accepted it. She leaned against Yelena as she drank it and the blonde woman held her carefully, her boisterous nature suddenly flipped 180 in the presence of a child. Wanda came to join Natasha’s side, having missed her even for those few minutes.

“Do you want to put them down for a nap?” Natasha whispered to Wanda, knowing that she felt very much on the outside of this situation. “I’ll go and bring the bags to our room.”

“Have the girls got their own room?”

“Yeah. Yelena offered to sleep on the couch so they’re taking her room and we’re across the hall. Like always.”

Wanda slipped her hand into Natasha’s and pressed a small kiss to her lips, wanting to keep it short and sweet. “Ok then, I’ll let Isla finish if you go get the stuff.”

After an almost-asleep Y/n was placed on Wanda’s lap, Natasha headed back to the car to start ferrying their bags back and forth.

“Isla, baby, it’s nap time,” the Sokovian cooed, only to be met with grumbles of protest.

“No, stay Lena!” Whining was a clear sign that she was tired, but Isla was a stubborn as Natasha and scowled hard, tiny face screwing up.

“I’m sure Yelena will come and help if you’re a good girl.” Bribery, the most effective parenting tactic. Isla turned around and looked up at Yelena with her big green eyes, completely melting the Russian’s heart and making her fall head over heels in love.

“Why don’t you show me your cool pyjamas, huh?” Yelena said, tickling Isla gently in the ribs. This got the toddler up and moving, pulling as hard as she could on Yelena’s hand to make her follow. Wanda chuckled and let Yelena lead the way up the small staircase to her room where two makeshift beds had been set up.

Natasha had worked speedy and already laid out a folded pair of pyjamas for the girls on each bed, and Isla ran straight towards hers, eager to show Yelena. She babbled away as the blonde helped her get changed, her sleepy state now a million miles away.

Y/n let Wanda get her changed and didn’t protest once, but the slightly frown on her face was a telltale sight that she still wasn’t happy.

“Will you read story?” Isla asked Yelena as she climbed under the covers, Mr E tucked safely under her arm. Yelena looked at Wanda for permission who just shook her head.

“We usually only do stories at bedtime.”

“Maybe later, soldier.” Isla frowned but accepted her answer and yawned. “Sleep well, little one.”

Both adults backed out of the room and found Natasha downstairs with Melina, their voices hushed as they talked.

“Are they always so different?” Yelena asked, plopping down onto the couch and almost hitting Natasha in the process.

“What do you mean?”

The blonde screwed up her face. “Well, Isla is so… you know, and Y/n is…” descriptive as ever.

“They’ve always been like that,” Natasha sighed, leaning her head on Wanda’s shoulder and smiling as their hands found each other.

“Y/n is her Mama’s girl,” Wanda said with a fond smile, no hint of resentment or jealous in her words. “But they’re so different it’s crazy sometimes. And Y/n has her moments, but she prefers to watch while Isla talks. Saves our ears, that’s for sure.”

“Speaking of talking, where is he?” There was bitterness to Natasha’s tone and Melina clenched her jaw, her hands coming to smooth over her black pants.

“I sent him away for the week,” she admitted, watching Natasha’s eyes shift at the news. “I didn’t think it would be good for the girls… or you.”

Natasha’s original hardened expression slowly softened and she bit her tongue to stop the tears building. Motherhood had made her soft and emotional, but she didn’t realise just how much.

“A mother always knows, Natasha. I’m sure you both would have done the same if it was the other way around.”

It was like a weight lifted off her shoulders and for the first time since they’d left that morning, she finally relaxed. Her girls were safely asleep upstairs, Wanda was grounding her by her side, and the family she had abandoned for years had welcomed her back with open arms.

Maybe these reconnections weren’t going to be so bad after all.

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #double the trouble au #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #wandanat #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x daughter!reader

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suiana · 5 months

Note

Hiiii! I discovered your blog recently and I’m loving it!!!!

Can I request a yandere who’s your younger brother best friend? (you’re both adults ofc)

He always had a crush on you but you always brush it off as some innocent little crush until your parents and your brother went on vacations (you couldn’t go cause you had to work) and he offered to stay with you so you wouldn’t be alone. And in the middle of the night he gets in bed with you while you’re sleeping and touches you

I'm sorry if this too specific 😅

(yandere younger brother's best friend x gn! reader) (cw: implied nsfw+stealing+drugging+slight somno, yandere stuff, manipulation)

you know the weird feeling you get in your gut whenever you sense something off?

yeah, you're currently feeling it.

and it's weird because... you're home alone. well not alone, your younger brother and his best friend are home.

but they're playing some game, holed up in his room so technically you're alone. so why are you feeling a sense of dread? did you leave the stove on? did you forget to submit some assignment? were you going to get killed?

...

nah, that can't be it.

you must just be overthinking. everything's fine after all.

maybe you're just tired. what you need is sleep.

so that's what you did, you turned off the television, walked to your room, got in bed, and went to sleep.

but when you woke up a few hours later, the feeling of anxiety only increased.

you woke up in cold sweat, shivering in your bed as you looked around. nothing was off, nothing at all. but why was your body on high alert? why?

your eyes took in every crevice of your room, trying to see if there was an intruder of sorts. nothing. wait, were those a pair of eyes in your closet? no way.

you blink several times and they were gone.

...maybe you need a drink. yeah, a drink.

you got out of bed, hand clutching your phone as you walked to the kitchen. pouring yourself a glass of water, you nervously scrolled tiktok to ease your nerves. but it didn't work. if anything, it only served as a reminder of how quiet the house was, even with the presence of two other guys-

what was that?

nervously turning around, your eyes were wide open as you prepared for the worst. that sounded like glass breaking! what if someone broke in- oh, it was just your younger brother's best friend...

you immediately let out a sigh of relief, not even bothering to notice how his hands were clenching around something that look oddly like your underwear and how his cheeks were flushed way too red for this cold weather.

"you scared me."

you laugh, drinking your glass of water as your brother's best friend chuckles awkwardly in response. well, at least the weird feeling in your stomach seemed to disappear. not totally but it wasn't as present as it once was.

"uh, sorry about that. just wanted to stretch my legs."

he stuffs his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, looking away from your face as he chews on his bottom lip. you smile at his response, shaking your head slightly as you walk back to your room. he was always awkward around you. this behavior was normal.

"yeah, don't worry about it! remember to tell my brother to drink some water, yeah? you too!"

you remind with a slight grin before patting him lightly on the shoulder. he flinches at the contact before calming down. huh, was he on edge too? he never flinches... especially when you touch him. weird.

whatever, maybe he was feeling extra paranoid today too. you soon got back into bed, laughing at your paranoia as he weird feeling in your stomach seems to gradually disappear.

and you even managed to fall asleep not too long after! how amazing!

and irritatingly convenient. it's almost like you were considerate for him and his obsession with you.

he soon slips back into your room, crouching beside your bed as he stares intently at your figure. his cheeks are flushed as he gently strokes your cheek with shivering fingers.

ah, you were so adorable when you got all scared and worked up. and he even got a front row seat to your fear through the gap of your cupboard! shit, do you know how hard he had to hold himself back from moaning out loud at the sight?

but it doesn't matter anymore. not when you were fast asleep.

god you looked so sweet like this, all passed out and vulnerable...

it was a little hard to get your brother to drink the intoxicated drink but the fact that he got to see this... ah, it was so damn worth it.

his hands trail down to your pretty lips, playing with them before he stops. his head drops as he lets out a soft sigh. his pants were painfully tight right now...

he then looks back at you, chewing on his bottom lip. you... wouldn't mind, right? he wouldn't be doing anything to you so... he's just doing it beside you!

if anything, it should be fine because you two would be dating soon anyways! it's fine... at least it's what he tells himself.

it's fine.

he repeats as his hand goes to undo his belt.

it's fine.

he mutters as his hand clutches your bed sheets.

it's fine.

he moans as he strokes your face.

yeah, of course it would be fine. you were meant to be his after all. he was just doing what any boyfriend would do when their significant other turns them on!

but it wasn't enough.

he shouldn't do more. he knows it. but... he can't help himself. he'll just touch your cute face a bit more... and stain your sheets a weird white...

and he's sorry that he's doing it but you were just so pretty! if anything... it's your fault! how dare you tempt him even in your sleep.

don't worry, it's not like you'll remember his touches when you wake up... plus, he didn't even do anything too drastic so... it's not that bad, right?

as long as you didn't suspect him, everything would be fine.

so just don't think too much and... don't listen to your gut, okay?

#suiana's sinners #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere younger brother's best friend #yandere younger brother's best friend x reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months

Text

Sweet Delights

Peeta Mellark x AFAB!Reader

Summery: It's a slow work day in District 12. With rain pouring down outside, who can blame you for wanting to indulge a little? Everything's fine so long as no one walks in... right?

Tags: Pre-established relationship, no use of y/n, pet names, reader has AFAB body/female pronouns, switch!Peeta, switch!Reader, edging, female fingering, teasing, count down, orgasm denial, blow job, face fucking, public sex, someone walks in, dirty talk, Peeta's a freak but he's sweet about it, praise kink if you squint, mentions of eating out, cum swallowing, cursing, post-Mockingjay but that's not really relevant, no reader orgasm this time around. Once again, I'm probably forgetting something.

Notes: I have to say, I did not expect Peeta to win the poll! And not to worry for everyone else, I'll get to all those characters eventually. (Derek girlies, I see you and I love you.) Thank you for your support on the last one, I hope you like this one too! Bon ABBA teeth.

•°《▪︎♡▪︎》°•

Peeta loves surprises.

Giving them, receiving them. If it's unexpected, Peeta is practically bouncing off his chair to figure out what to do with it.

It made everyday life sweeter. Slipping a note into his apron pocket when he wasn't looking for him to discover, finding a million more hidden in my apron. Little drawings hidden amongst everyday things, like the wildflowes Peeta likes to draw and place next to my powders and perfumes. But best of all surprises were the little pastries we would make when the days were slow and the other was watching the front of the bakery. Usually using scraps, because Peeta detests wasting food, but always delicious nonetheless.

The best innocent surprise, I should say.

Today was an especially slow day. Rain pounding down in District 12, making the roads thick with mud. It's a blessing for the hot ovens that fight against the cold seeping through the front windows. Although they're helping me more than Peeta, who's up front perched at the counter, insistent as always that someone needs to be watching the shop. "We won't hear the bell over the rain," he'd said.

I knew better than that. There were tells when Peeta wanted a surprise. He'd never just ask for something, always fearing rejection. Of course the minute I opened my mouth he was ready to do whatever I had even intrusively dreamed of so long as it meant love and praise. But to ask for himself? It's a whole different matter. So when he is insistent I work alone in the back, I understand that this is his own silent way of asking for some sort of surprise. And with the way his broad shoulders look in that pale yellow knit sweater, who am I to deny him?

I'm not one to deny him anything, quite frankly.

The best surprises of all are when we sneak up behind the other, always starting so innocently. Maybe while one of us is baking, maybe while one of us is simply dressing. With the quick slip of a hand, it doesn't take long before the other is panting and begging for release. Not that we always give it to each other.

Peeta liked sneaking up on me in private. Usually when I was in the back baking.

"What are you working on?" He'd usually ask.

"Custom order," I may answer with a smile. He liked my smiles, always said so.

"What are the details?" He'd ask. He'd put his hands on my lower back, rubbing soft enough to not disturb me while still working out some knots.

Then I'd prattle off details. This one is for so-and-so down on whatever-street-or-corner, they'd like a cake.

"For the Harvest Festival?" He'd ask. I'd nod, still focused on my task. "How many orders do we have for the Festival?"

"A good bit, it's our busiest time," I'd always say with a bright, soft tone to my voice. He'd chuckle, placing a small kiss on the back of my neck and pressing his hips against mine from behind, usually revealing his hard on.

"So, how many orders this year?" He'd ask. His hands would work at a knot, his breath hot on my neck, and his hips would roll ever so slowly against mine, taking his time to build both of us up.

"Ah, I think- I think 12?" I'd say, trying to focus on both him and whatever I was making. Cake. Right. Stir.

"12?" He'd ask. His cock would be deliciously hard, grinding against my clothed cunt just a bit harder as his hands would return to my hips, steadying me against him. "That's pretty good."

"Double digits," I'd say brightly, my voice breathy as I struggle more to focus. Cake. Stir. Hands, not hips.

But I'd always do hips instead, leaning back and tilting my head ever so slightly so he can see my enjoyment.

"You need to stir," Peeta would gently guide in my ear. My back would press against his front, his chin now resting on my shoulder.

"I know," I'd say softly. I didn't know shit.

He'd chuckle, one hand slipping to my front to cup one of my breasts.

"Need to get those orders out," he'd remind me. "You always seem so stressed about being on time."

"One of us has to be," I'd say. His hand on my hip would find the band of my pants, slipping past them and teasing me, sliding his fingers against my wet folds.

"Pick up the whisk," he'd instruct. My hands would shake as they obeyed, moving from being splayed across the marble counter to resume my task.

"Stir slowly," he'd say. His large fingers would slip over my entrance, coating himself in the thick lube now dripping from me. "You want to make sure the texture's correct."

It took such mental energy to balance the two things. Especially when he would finally sink in his middle finger, always going knuckle deep and twirling it around inside of me, making sure to leave no spot untouched. His other hand would pinch and pull at my breast, giving special care to make his fingers replicate the feeling of his soft lips wrapped around my sensitive nipples.

"What's the next order?" He'd ask. I could feel myself dripping down his hand, and I knew he loved this. Peeta would do whatever he could to make sure I was wet, even when he wouldn't go any further than simple teasing. I think he liked the idea of me always being ready. Not that he would assume. He always started out slow, and if I ever said no it was never a big deal. He'd simply continue talking to me and go on with his day perfectly fine. But if I was willing, he'd always massage or do whatever until he could feel my arousal himself. I think it's why he likes eating out best. Especially when I'd talk him through it, usually promising to cum down his throat while tugging his soft blond hair. His eyes would grow wide and soft at that, his whimpers increasing as he'd fuck me quicker with his tongue, grinding himself against whatever. It was a beautiful mess he'd turn himself into, desperate and begging silently as he clutched my hips.

"The what?" I'd ask breathlessly. I was tight around him, focused on how slow and sweet he was pumping in and out, twirling and wiggling his finger inside of me. His other hand slipping under my shirt, and his lips sucking gently at my neck, careful not to leave bruises.

"The orders, sweetheart," he'd gently remind me. "What's the next one?"

My lips would part, eyes fluttering shut as I tried to remember. His middle finger would pump out and then pump back in with the addition of his pointer finger, tearing a soft moan from my throat.

"Shh," he'd gently whisper. "We're at work."

He liked this little game. Ramping me up, forcing me to behave a certain way so to not tip off customers. If Peeta wouldn't immediately be arrested for it, something tells me he'd simply fuck me in the front room, bent over the register counter during business hours and just act like it's a normal thing. Such a sweet boy.

"I- ah- need to look at the book," I'd say. He'd roll my nipple between his two fingers, his other two fingers pumping slightly faster as his lips suck at the spot just under my ear.

"You have such a good memory though," he'd say. "You can remember. Just think."

That's a lie. I have a horrible memory and we both know it. But if I say I can't, he'll pull away. Sweet and gentle, he'll go get the book and place a million kisses on my cheek before leaving me to my work and dizziness.

Next order. Next order. That's easy. It's a tart with cream on top. Cream. God, I'd like his cock in my mouth right now.

"Next order. Come on, pretty girl. I know you know it," he'd softly encourage.

"I know it," I'd moan, my head tilted back and resting on his shoulder, fucking his fingers instead of working on the cake. He feels so good, so warm and protecting. Simply smelling the traces of dill and cinnamon baked into his skin made my mind shut off, my eyes growing tired from the feeling of safety.

"I know you know it," he'd say so sweetly. "You're smart, pretty. And you've got a delicious cunt I'd love to fuck over and over if I could," he'd say softly, placing warm kisses on my neck between each point. I was panting openly now, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried desperately to remember who ordered what.

His fingers curled inside of me, making rapid 'come hither' motions fast enough to steal a soft, sudden cry fron my lips. Peetas mouth found mine, swallowing my moans and giving me some of his own.

"I may have to count down, sweet girl," he'd warn me. His fingers had found my g spot, hitting and rubbing it at rapid speed. The cuff of his sweater is soaked from me, his hand sticky and coated. I shake my head quickly, moaning and gripping the counter as best I could to keep myself standing.

"I can remember," I whimpered. Peeta laughed softly.

"I know you can, sweet girl. But look at you, you're a total mess." His voice is sweet and kind, his eyes taking in my current state. "I can't have you all dumb back here during work hours."

He's sweet but he's cruel. God, he's cruel!

"I think there's berries in it," I stammered.

"Ten," he's start patiently, his teeth tugging at my earlobe.

"N-no, wait! There's- There's berries and there's..." I'm completely making this up. I have no clue what's next.

"Nine," he continued, knowing this.

"That's not fair, you started low on purpose!" I whined.

"Eight." He wouldn't argue. I was right.

"It's got- got cottage cheese frosting." I'm so close, so awfully close. I can feel myself clenching around him rapidly, my pussy swallowing his fingers quicker and quicker as I climbed closer towards the edge.

"Seven." Oh, God. This motherfucker.

"Six. Come on, good girl. You can do this," he'd encourage sweetly, kissing my cheek and trailing to my collarbone with said kisses.

"They wanted flowers on the top. Violets, I remember that!" That detail is actually true, surprisingly. The candy violets were always easy to remember because I loved them so much.

"Five." His other hand kneeded my breast, admiring the soft flesh and running his thumb over my stiff, aching nipple repeatedly. "Four."

"You're speeding up," I whined. "This isn't fair."

He let out a soft 'aw,' apologizing and speeding his hands to bring me closer to the edge.

"If you can come before one, I'll fuck you right here," he promised. "You can come before one, can't you?"

I nodded stupidly, moaning and panting as I sped up my hips, slamming down on his hand repeatedly. Cake details be damned, this is my mission now.

"Three." I'm so impossibly close.

"Two."

"Wait a minute, slow down-"

"One."

With one final, cruel, hard thrust of his hand he slips away, leaving me to almost crumple to the ground and opening my eyes to blink stupidly, trying to process what just happened.

"You okay?" He asked softly, his dry hand cupping my cheek and looking at me carefully with his sweet, hazel eyes.

A long, soft whine escaped me, batting my lashes as I lean against him and whisper as many 'please's as I can, pressing a dozen kisses all over him. He laughed softly, returning the kisses with whispered 'I love you's.

"Let me go get that book," he'd said. And that was that until that evening when he made up for it like he always did.

Now I was carefully removing a tiny apple pie made from leftovers meant specifically for Peeta. The rain was as bad as ever as I entered the front room, Peeta leaning on the palm of his hand while he struggled not to doze off. His long lashes flutter softly, his lips pressing against each other and his jaw a bit tight.

"Hi sleepyhead," I whisper, sneaking up behind him. He started a little, turning to look at me with the sweetest smile he has.

"Hi," he says cheerily, his voice just a touch gravely. His eyes glance down to the small treat in my hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Is that for me?"

"Of course it is," I say, placing it in front of him. "Figured you could use something to warm you up. It's freezing up here."

He chuckles. "It's not that cold," he says as he picks up the fork I'd placed next to the tiny pie and began scooping some up.

"Liar," I teased. "You're shivering."

He shifts in his seat slightly. "Not from that," he says, a small blush growing on his cheeks. He takes the first bite, then another, smiling and leaning his head against my shoulder.

"Thank you, dear," he says softly. He leans in for a kiss to which I happily oblige, cupping his jaw with my left hand. His lips taste sweet, the sticky apple and cinnamon tasting delicious on him. I swipe my tongue across his lips, stealing a soft moan from him as he allows my tongue access to his mouth, melting in my hands. His hand dropped the fork, accidently missing the pan and instead hitting the counter, but neither of us care. His hand comes up to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to silently ask me for more.

My other hand trails down to his lap, finding one of his hands already there, palming his stiff, clothed cock through his pants.

"Is this what you were doing when I came up?" I ask softly, pulling away from the kiss only a bit. He chases me, biting at my bottom lip to drag me back to him. That's a yes, then.

My tongue explores his warm mouth, tasting him while my hand traces the outline of his dick, pressing and flicking against the tip. He whines, bucking softly into my hand, desperate for more.

"Can you stay quiet?" I ask him, pulling away again. This time my hand on the back of his neck grabs his golden locks, holding him still as I look into his eyes. His cheeks are red as well as his lips, kiss swollen and damp. His breathing is heavy, his eyes blown out. Barely touched and already a beautiful mess.

"Huh?" He asks, his voice higher than usual as he tries to focus. His hand grasping my wrist, making sure to keep my hand where he can buck against it.

"If I asked you to, would you stay quiet?" I repeat gently, teasing him with kisses by leaning forward and pulling away. We both liked this.

"Yes," he said quickly. "Anything."

"Anything?" I ask, raising my brows.

"Anything."

Alright.

I press a quick, admittedly sloppy kiss to his lips once more before dropping to my knees and slipping under the counter. His brows furrow in confusion before he realizes what I'm doing.

"You can't!" He whispers frantically. "What if someone walks in?"

"That's why I asked if you could stay quiet," I say patiently. "Can you?"

He bites his lip, obviously unsure. His eyes dart between me and the shop door, thinking.

"We can wait," I offer genuinely. This seems to be the deciding factor.

"I'll be quiet," he promises eagerly. "I've got a pie I can shove in my mouth if I can't, right?" He jokes, his smile crooked and eager as his hands work quickly to begin freeing himself. He's excited alright.

"Right," I say, taking his hands away and undoing the buttons on his pants myself. "Just keep watch of the shop, alright sweet boy?" He nods, placing his arms on the counter and trying to resume his position.

I slip his cock from the confines of his clothes, pressing a soft wet kiss to the underside along a thick vein. A quiet whine escapes him, his hand covering his mouth. I'm not truly worried about him being quiet, no one is going to come in here during such bad weather. It's just an edge to help work him into a frenzy, knowing full well he never stays quiet. I'd thought I was vocal when we started our relationship, but Peeta easily takes the cake.

His cock is warm, half hard against my lips that trail his veins. My tongue slides from his tip to his base, barely any pressure on his skin. Grazing always works best to start out with. When I reach his base I lap at his skin, blowing soft, cold air against the wet spots to make him squirm in his chair. I focus on his base for a while, sucking, licking, blowing. Ever so gently I even bite just the tiniest bit, enough for him to notice the edges of my teeth along his red, pulsing cock. His voice is soft, panting quietly.

My tongue trails slowly up his cock, exploring different ridges and spots that make him whimper quietly, working my way back to his tip which is soaked with thick, warm precum. I wrap my lips around him, swiping the moisture away with my tongue in one round sweep. I relish in the cry it tears from his throat, the dozen little apologies he whimpers immediately after. His hand covers his mouth, and the other trails down to gently cup the back of my head. I smile around him, swirling my spit around his tip as I suck gently, pressing my tongue against the underside of his dick.

His fingers play with my hair, unintentionally tugging it and apologizing as he does. I simply squeeze his thighs and begin lowering myself, taking him until his tip hits the back of my throat, taking deep, even breaths to fight off the gags that threaten to escape me.

It's when my nose buries in his soft, curly hair at his base that the bell of the front door rings.

"Hi!" Peeta says a little too quickly, a little too brightly. "Welcome to Mellarks Bakery. How may we- I help you today?"

I'm frozen, his hand gripping my hair out of anxiety. If I pull away, we'll be done. If I stay here, Peeta may very well have to make good on his promise.

Although, acting has never been a challenge for him, has it?

The customer is describing a custom tart she wants made, then pulling out a long list and prattling about this, that, and the other thing. Her accent clearly shows her as a Capitol transfer, and these orders always take forever given that they still have a hard time releasing the concept of not over indulging. But this time I don't plan on complaining.

My tongue begins to move slowly, rubbing carefully along the bottom of his cock while I watch his face carefully. He's smiling at the woman who's still going down the list, his eyes glancing at me to confirm this is what we're doing. With a small nod from me, his hand casually covers his mouth once more and he resumes focus on the woman, his other hand now guiding my head slowly, carefully.

He pulls me to the tip of his dick, working me back and forth slowly on just that spot. My tongue works quickly, my lips wrapping around him tightly to help create proper suction around him while I suck.

"Do you have pumpkin?" The woman asks.

"W- what?" Peeta asks, clearing his throat. "Oh, pumpkin. I'll admit I'm running a little low, it's been a popular request since we don't grow them locally. I've requested more but I don't know if they'll be in in time, so if you want something that uses it you'll have to get it-" his voice cracks as I deepthroat him again, swallowing around him quickly before returning myself to his tip. He clears his throat. "You'll have to reserve it right now," he finishes. I can see him quickly scoop up some of the pie, shoving it in his mouth and trying to hide his blush. It's lucky for us how oblivious Capitol born citizens are.

His hand guides me faster, focusing on fucking his tip near the back of my throat since we both know full well how hitting the back of my throat isn't an option. We can't risk any noise gagging may cause since it may not be covered up by the soft music playing on the shop speakers, a gift from Beetee for the reopening.

His pace is fast, faster than it should be. He's close, smiling at the woman and acting as though everything is normal. His large vein throbs, precum spilling out of him with each new thrust into my mouth. My hand reaches to press two digits against the soft spot behind his balls, a sensitive spot that makes him cry and squirm.

His jaw tightens as I do this, his eyes darting down daggers quickly. I can hear coins on the counter, Peeta accepting the list and opening the register. With the loud 'clank' springing forth from the older device, he takes the chance to slam my face down fully on his cock, his fingers making the coins loudly shift around as he gives the customer her change. Tears spring to my eyes from the sudden force, swallowing around him as I focus on my breathing to recover. He promises the woman he'll do what he can and wishes her a good day, and she coos sweetly. She reaches across the counter, patting his cheek and calling him a sweet boy before turning and walking out of the bakery, the bell chiming at her exit.

Peeta looks down at me, smiling brightly. "Hi," he says with a newfound excitement.

I moan around his cock. He gets it.

"You okay?" He asks, his hands moving to cup my cheeks. I make an affirming noise, trying to smile. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" He asks, his thumbs swiping away the small tears dangling from my bottom lashes. I shake my head, swallowing around him. He moans softly, his grip tightening.

"Yeah, I kinda forgot you like it when I am, don't you?" He asks, beginning to slowly pump his dick in and out of the back of my throat. I moan happily, taking him as easily as I can.

"You know how hard it was not coming down your throat with that lady in here?" He asks. "I had to edge myself so that it wouldn't become known how much I like fucking your throat."

My cunt throbs at his words, his closeness making him willing to be more rough. He starts fucking my face in earnest, tearing noises from both of our throats as he loses himself.

"Can't do that again," he pants. "Next time I'm just taking you. I don't care who walks in." He's moaning openly now, his cock abusing me. I can feel him throbbing, twitching. There's enough precum it's all I can do to focus on swallowing and breathing.

"Show this whole District how much I love you," he babbles. "I'll eat you out on this fucking counter, I don't give a fuck."

I press my heel against my clit, grinding into it to relieve some friction as my hands steady my body against his thighs. The chair underneath of him creeks horribly. If anyone walked in now, I don't even think we'd have a small second to hide what we're doing.

"I love your fucking pussy," he rambles, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. "Love your fucking mouth. You take me so well. So eagerly."

I moan around him, spit dribbling from my mouth, hair stuck to my face. His balls slam against my chin, his wet curls pressing against my nose as he face fucks me like a rabid animal.

"I'm gonna cum down your throat," he announces. "Then you're gonna cum down mine. Again," thrust. "And again," thrust. "Until we don't even have to make dinner from how full we'll be." Goddamn, he's close.

His hands are rough, gripping my face. "Rub your tongue harder," he commands. I do, putting as much pressure as I can on his throbbing vein. He moans loudly, leaning forward and clutching my head.

"I'm coming," he pants, his voice high and tired. "Fuck, I'm coming-!"

His warm, thick load shoots down my throat, filling my mouth so much I cant breathe if I want to swallow it all.

"Such a sweet girl," he praises. "So sweet and good, eager to make me cum." His face is pressed against the cool counter, his chest heaving as he recovers his breath. His thumbs stroke my cheeks at different paces, small whimpers escaping him as I milk him dry with my mouth, making sure not a drop is left behind. When he's fully softened, I place a small kiss on his tip before tucking him back in, rebuttoning his clothes and patting his thighs one more time.

It takes a moment for me to rise, my joints stiff and my mind scrambled from the abuse it had just suffered. I stumble a little as I stand, Peeta's weak arms collecting my body and bringing me into a warm embrace.

"You're wonderful," he whispers, resting his head against my chest. I chuckle softly, placing a soft kiss on the top of his messy hair.

"So are you," I say.

He looks up at me, flushed and smiling at me with the most wonderful, lazy look on his face.

"Your turn," he says, finding a new wave of surprising strength and placing me on the counter.

"Peeta, we're still open," I giggle, batting his hands away.

"I know," he says. "Did you think I was joking?"

He stares at me, smiling and eager as he begins to part my legs.

This is going to be a long night.

•《♡》•

Whoever gets second place on the poll is who I'm writing next. Feel free to send in requests for characters/scenarios! See you next time, you degenerates <3

Masterlist

#josh hutcherson #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark smut #the hunger games peeta #peeta mellark #thg peeta #peeta x reader #peeta x you #peeta x y/n #peeta smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch

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prolifeproliberty · 6 months

Text

So I found out today that not everyone knows about breathing steam when you have a bad cough (especially bronchitis) or congestion. I talked to two or three people just today who didn’t know about it.

All you do is fill a bowl (like a soup bowl) with hot water (boiling or near boiling - pour carefully) and then sit with it at a table and drape a kitchen towel over your head and the bowl to trap the steam. Breathe deeply for about 10 minutes (or 3-5 minute chunks if that’s uncomfortable for you)

Bonus: if you have bay leaves, throw one or two in the bowl before adding the hot water. They really help clear you up.

This is best done at night before you go to bed, especially if you have a cough that gets worse at night or when you’re laying down. The steam helps soothe irritated tissues and clears out your sinuses.

It’s also really important to stay hydrated, and drinking warm or hot water can be much more soothing than cold water. Warm water can even aid in digestion if you’re having stomach issues with whatever bug you have.

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lovecoree · 6 months

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𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐊𝐓𝐇

pairing: painter!tae x black fem!reader

synopsis 🎱: taehyung doesn’t tolerate your attitude, especially when he’s not in his right mind for his next painting. punishing you is the only way for you to know he’s serious about that.

warning: SMUT ! mdni , oral ( m receiving ) , filming ( with consent ofc ) , huge d!ck tae ( yes this is a warning ) , reader is black coded , dom!tae , brat!reader , brat taming , let me know if there’s more !

a/n: this was an anonymous request, also my first time writing smut so it’s probably trash, but hope you enjoy

Taehyung was an amazing artist, the art ideas he had in mind came easily to him, wrist moving swiftly as he painted on a blank canvas, but today was a bad day for Taehyung. He couldn’t seem to stay focus nor come up with ideas that seemed new and interesting. Everything looked the same leaving him more angry and destroying countless of canvases— left ripped or thrown all across the room.

Taehyung was busy mixing up paints in a container with aggression, grey sleeves pushed up and veins protruding on his hands and arms, and glasses on the tip of his nose. He was pouring his anger out on mixing that he didn’t hear your footsteps nearing the door, not until your voice stopped all his movements.

“You’re still going at it” Your voice came out in a sarcastic tone as you took in the sight of the messy room and your boyfriend standing in the middle. Your voice got stuck in your throat when taehyung only turned his head and not his full body, eyes boring into yours as his expression was blank. “What do you want.” His cold tone was nothing new to you, you knew Taehyung can be cold towards you— or anyone when he’s angry about his work not coming out the way he wants it to be, but that doesn’t stop you from letting your true sarcastic comments slip out from time to time.

Your feet thud against the marble floor on purpose as you moved closer towards Taehyung, slightly kicking the half used canvases out of your way. Taehyung hated when you thud your feet, always telling you to pick your feet up when walking. He eyed your movements before slowly looking up at you with an intense look— a warning look that you did not take seriously. First mistake.

Folding your arms over your chest, wearing nothing but Taehyung’s grey shirt that’s oversized on you. “You’ve been in here for five hours, you promised me you’ll only be in here for two hours tae.” Which he did promise, the sincere promise he made right after giving you a kiss. Taehyung sighed as he fully turned his body around to face you. Small container and paint brush still in his hand tightly.

“Y/N sometimes promises are meant to be broken, you’ll be fine. I’m busy.” His blunt comment made you mad as you rolled your eyes. He didn’t tend to be harsh with his choice of words, but the lack of creativity and your sarcastic tone was making him annoyed. “Then why the fuck did you make the promise in the first place tae?” Taehyung jaw clenched as he looked at you with a hard glare. The bratty behavior and talk back is something Taehyung never liked, especially when you cuss. “What I say about cussing?” Taehyung stepped closer to you, towering over your body, but you wouldn’t waver. Second mistake.

“Boy I don’t care what you said, it’s my mouth. Now like I said fuck you make—” The gasp you let out as Taehyung finally broke his calmness, throwing the container of paint and paint brush on the floor— thank god it was washable paint. He gripped your neck pulling your body closer to his as you looked up at him. “Baby I told you I don’t tolerate disrespect or you cussing me out, apologize and I’ll let it slide.” Taehyung’s tone was deep, deep to the point you felt your panties start to dampen.

The look he gave you was telling you to utter something slick again, so what you do? Utter something slick again. “I’m not apologizing for shit.” Third mistake.

“That’s it take it all.” Taehyung groaned deeply glancing down at you as he gripped the back of your neck holding you still as he fucked your mouth. Loud gaging noises was music to his ears. “You look so pretty with my cock down your throat.” He smirked loving the sight of your tears pooling down to your puffy cheeks, spit and precum glistening on your chin and down on the floor, balls slapping on your chin repeatedly from Taehyung’s hard thrust.

“can’t bitch now, can you?” Tilting his head back, gripping the wooden table from behind him tightly as he bucked his hips. You looked up at him as you tried your best to breath out your nose, griping his thick thighs to slow his movements. “Nah, be the brat you wanted to be and take it.”

Taehyung’s girth had your mouth stretching painfully, but you enjoyed it. His tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly as you moaned around his length sending vibrations to taehyung’s cock causing him to moan. “Fuck baby, just like that.” He loved seeing your eyes filled with tears, made him weak in the knees. “S-Shit baby let me record you being good for me, hmm?” You nod your head yes as Taehyung stopped his thrust.

You could finally catch your breath as Taehyung slipped out your sore mouth. Cock drooping low from being to heavy to stand on its own. You hear him unlock his phone and pressing the record button. Gripping the base of his cock you stick out your tongue to let him slap his fat red tip on it. Pretty wet eyelashes blinking up at him as he slide back in, going back to his brutal thrusting.

Taehyung gripped the phone tight as he looked at the camera catching the pornographic scene. Biting his lip trying hard to suppress the smirk seeing you gag around him as he held you in place, nose hitting his freshly shaved pubic bone as he stuffed his cock down your throat. What felt like minutes he finally let go of your head causing you to pull back completely. Taking a huge gasp of air as spit connected from his swollen tip to your now puffy lips.

“You look a mess pretty.” You whimpered looking up at him breathing hard. He wanted to ruin you completely as punishment. Normally he would edge you on, but since you ran your mouth so much he decided to put it to good use. “Cock drunk already?” He slightly tapped your face with his free hand before gripping your jaw to look up at the camera.

“Apologies for being a brat baby and maybe I’ll go gentle.” Your hands rubbed up on his thighs as you looked up at him so pretty. “I-Im sorry for being a brat, it won’t happen a-again tae.” Voice practically raspy from the stretch, Taehyung smiled. “Good girl, finish me off.” He moved his hand from your jaw, allowing you to finally take control. His cock felt heavy in your hands as you jerked him off placing him back in your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth.

“Oh my— fuck you’re amazing.” To be honest this is exactly what Taehyung needed, from all the pent up stress he had today, fucking your throat was the only option in his mind to release it. “Fuck baby I’m close.” Taehyung’s moans turns into whimpers as you pulled away to jerk him off faster sticking out your tongue.

“shitshitshitshit.” Taehyung’s jaw dropped as his eyes rolled back, stomach caving in as thick ropes of his cum splattered all on your tongue, lips and cheeks. You looked pretty to him.

Taehyung turned the recording off, placing his phone on the table behind him. He watched as you scooped the remaining cum off your cheeks and lick your fingers clean.

“You are truly amazing baby.” Helping you up off the floor Taehyung kissed you passionately, tasting his own bittersweet cum. The kiss was sloppy yet loving. “No more distractions, ok?” Placing a harsh slap on your ass you smiled. “Ok.” You giggled as he picked you up bridal style carrying you to y’all shared bedroom.

#taehyung x black reader #black fem reader #bts x black girl #bts taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #smut #black reader smut #bts x black reader #bts fic #bts fanfic #taehyung #bts thv #kpop smut #bts smut #taehyung x y/n

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honeygrahambitch · 14 days

Text

"Since laryngitis is not contagious I told Will he should definitely come to work today. Especially now that the Ripper dropped a body. He doesn't need to talk much. He can do his thing and then write a report on it." Jack explained to Hannibal as they arrived at the crime scene. "No one gets hurt and we get even closer to catching the Ripper."

"It's quite cold today." Hannibal commented as a tiny snow flake landed on his palm. "Will agreed I suppose?"

"He did, yes. But we have only been texting so I am not sure what state he actually is in."

Will was already there, next to Beverly, looking around the crime scene, examining something in particular. He was so focused that he didn't even hear Hannibal and Jack.

"Will." Hannibal greeted him. To that Will and Beverly turned to them.

"Will can't speak. Like, at all. I am doing the talking for him today." Beverly explained. Will rolled his eyes helplessly. "He is not thrilled about it but I can do a pretty good job."

"He definitely should not force himself." Hannibal agreed, frowning in concern. If Will was not making any effort to talk then it definitely meant his voice was gone. His usual strategy of ignoring any symptoms he would have did not work in this case.

Jack sighed loudly, probably understanding that Will should have indeed stayed home to rest instead of standing outside in negative temperatures.

"He wants to say that your coat looks majestic, Dr. Lecter." Beverly commented. "Jack, I'm not allowed to say what Will thinks about you at this very moment. I really want to keep my job."

Will didn't protest to any of the things Beverly said and pulled out a little bottle of pills. Hannibal was wondering if Will knew that aspirin won't help that much with getting back his voice. Was his throat sore as well? Probably. Will wouldn't complain about stuff like that even when his voice was perfectly fine.

Hannibal wished he would know that kind of things.

He wished Will would allow him to care for him.

That is why as soon as they were done with the crime scene, he asked Will to get into his car instead of Beverly's. He wanted to open his mouth to protest but the stern look on Hannibal's stern expression made him abandon his attempt to force his larynx.

As soon as they arrived at Hannibal's place, he started making some tea in a navy blue kettle.

"Ginger and chamomile tea does wonders for a sore throat." He explained as Will followed him with his eyes around the kitchen.

Will felt partially powerless and partially grateful. He could admit to himself that other than popping pills, he usually did nothing about feeling sick. He mostly took medication to function at work, he wouldn't need those at home.

"Thank you." He whispered.

Hannibal felt something warm inside himself at hearing his voice for the first time that day.

"You should have told- well, wrote Jack that you are too sick to work, Will. Just so you know, I'm not expecting you for our therapy session tomorrow." Hannibal said as he moved the cattle away from the electric stove.

"No, I can do it." Will whispered a bit louder and coughed immediately after.

"Therapy implies having conversations. And by canceling your appointment I don't mean that I don't want to see you tomorrow. You should definitely come here for dinner." Hannibal went on while pouring tea in two cups. "Sitting with you in silence is not something that I dread."

Will smiled at that. When it came to the two of them, silence was indeed not an obstacle. There was always something to project and something to observe.

Hannibal added a generous spoon of honey in Will's cup and none in his own.

Will opened his mouth to say something more but he coughed again. Hannibal passed him a note book and a pen.

"We can pass notes."

"How romantic" Will wrote to that, earning a genuine smile from Hannibal. Then he kept on writing and then handed the notebook back Hannibal.

"Since I can't talk and you insist on having me around I can finally do what you've been asking me for ages."

"And what have I been asking you for ages?" Hannibal asked curiously as he gave Will the notebook.

"You can draw me in your sketchbook and I promise not to move or make any comment about how boring it is." He wrote back and raised his eyebrows, watching Hannibal's expression as he was reading his words.

"Are you sure?" Hannibal asked trying to conceal his excitement behind a satisfied expression. He was already picturing each pencil or charcoal he could use.

Will nodded.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal nbc #hannibal series #hannibal fanfiction

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orphicrose · 2 months

Text

The co-host (Alastor x femreader)

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

I’ve written like 5 other parts so do let me know if more is wanted

—-❥-----------

“Hello and good morning listeners!” The radio in every household beamed with that familiar Louisiana accent. Brightening up their breakfast and drowning out the commotion from out in the busy streets. “Today’s broadcast is brought to you by your one and only Alastor. Of course it is! When isn’t it” he finished his sentence with a friendly chuckle.

“Today should be expecting dry weather and a muggy air! Oh what wonders this country brings us, right y/n?” he beams over to a presence that lingers next to his. “ it sure does Alastor!” The second voice replied.

”silly me! Listeners, today I am joined by my new co-host, Miss y/n l/n! Get used to that name folks, she will be involved in your morning routine as much as I am. I’m sure of it” The radio was interfered with cracks and breaks in between words. Old piece of junk, never lasted long in hell. Especially when you buy it second hand from a drug dealer. The channel was lost, y/n desperately tried to get it back but was instead surprised with the voice of Jack from Jack the Ripper of bad news. His broadcast about sharing only bad news of hell. Which was basically everything that happened.

Y/n clutched at her radio, frustrated. It was the only piece of property they owned since falling into this shit hole. What makes it worse is she remembers everything. There was no peace after dying, there was an eternity of falling and waiting. Wondering what the afterlife may bring you, wondering if heaven and hell really exist. Then comes the spiraling questions of, what if i end up in hell? No i couldn't, i lived a good life. But if i do end up in hell, i will never see my family again. What if this is the end, what if just fall forever. Then, just as you think this is your life now, you hit the floor. But there is no warm welcome of friends, happy to see you and inviting you home again. Instead, cold glances, threatening gestures and a crowd of unfamiliar faces watching you from every direction.

Y/n had used her life experience to their advantage, struggles in life made their struggles in hell easier. It was almost the same, just without the morals, and friendly faces. She managed to land a job in a club for a while, that was enough to pay for hells equivalent of a studio apartment. Pay check to pay check was the new normal, which wasn't necessarily unfamiliar. The main difference now was, no one knew her name. But not for long.

The club she worked in was like any other club, just with less shits to give and more fucked up to get. It was a strange change from a loved media presence. But you gotta do what you gotta do. Over time, though, you make friends with the regulars. Especially when you're the one pouring the drinks. This particular day was just like the rest, except for a certain, unknown and unwanted guest to be welcomed into the establishment. Y/N spent her shifts pouring drink after drink, cleaning the glasses that were downed and then pouring more drinks. Occasionally having a conversation with a customer, few of them being pleasant or remotely normal.

"Gimmie a drink love" a slurred voice yelled from the other side of the counter top, his body slumped over like he'd been shot and arms wailing about like he needed to be.

"The usual?" Y/n offered a smile, before turning her back to him to grab a glass from the counter.

"You know me" His wrinkled face made an attempt at a wink, while the rest of his body fought for him to stay vertical. The drink was in his grasp in just seconds of asking. You learn to get quick in this line of work. "Hey, y/n, you noticed that creeper staring acha?" He gestured his head towards the booth in the very corner of the bar.

"No, but then again, all of you are creepers" She turned again, trying to get back to organizing the shelves but he was persistent. "if i'm not mistaken, that is the sin of the wraith ring"

"You probably are mistaken considering you're drunk as an old pimp, Travis." The mans attention span for Y/N quickly faded, and he found himself back on the dance floor. Spilling his new drink over everyone while he popped his head up and down in the crowd. He was bound to be back soon. Music was rattling the glass counters behind the bar, making it hard to hear anyone without having to shout. So when the man from the boot appeared behind y/n, she couldn't hide the fact she was startled. His professional demeanor was a contradiction to his chilling appearance. What could only be described as a Goats skull was in place of a human face, wearing an old red top hat that was supported by a pair of curvy horns. He carried a finely carved stick, complimented with a gold crows head on the top which perfectly fit the curvature of his hand. And his eyes, were just cesspits of nothingness. Y/n was trying their best to find some sort of life in this moving entity, but it felt as if there was none. Till he spoke.

"I'm aware you have been waiting for this encounter to take place, Miss L/N" Nothing could have prepared her for the breeze that his cold tone brushed over her.

"I don't know who you are, sir" If she wasn't careful, he might be able to hear the fear building up in her throat. If her suspicions were correct, though, then it would be even harder to contain.

"Yes you do, don't play games with me. I'm not here for that, I'm here for what i am owed." He paused, tapping his long nails on the wood countertop. The only barrier separating the two of them. "Your soul belongs to me".

An upbeat tune played in the background of the radio tower, accompanied by a soft voice humming along to it. Cleaning after hours wasn't a hard job, but it wasn't what she wanted to do. She wanted more. More money of course, that was an issue during the depression, but also a name. For people to hear her talking and to be entranced and want to listen, just like how Alastor drew in so many people.

"Oh, sorry dear. I didn't realize anyone was here." His voice startled her for a brief second, before her eyes focused on the man in the doorway.

"It's ok, i didn't even notice you where there to be honest sir." She responded with a smile, continuing to sweep the floor of the confined space. "What are you doing here? I thought the tower was locked till 6am for broadcasts."

"Yes, it is. But i enjoy the solitude from time to time." he still lingered in the door way, now hesitant to come any further and ruin the newly cleaned floor. "Y/N, isn't it?"

"Yes sir. I apologize, I'm usually finished sooner than this but i guess i was day dreaming" She laughed nervously under their breath. Now moving to the station to turn off the music.

"Leave it on" He stepped in the the room. "I like this song", encouraging you not to turn the music off as he sat down at the booth Infront of you. "And call me Alastor, dear, we are technically collogues."

She smiled agreeably, sitting down in the chair opposite. "Thank you, Alastor." she sighed as the seat melted into them, feeling as if they hadn't taken a break in years. There was a brief silence between the two, letting the music carry their unspoken conversation.

"Your voice" he began again, pausing while she hummed in acknowledgement. "You have a voice for radio. Your pronunciation, your tone, the way you present yourself. Is that why you got a job here?"

Their conversations lasted until the early hours of the morning. Laughing, chatting, listening and then yawning when they realized how long they had been up for. Y/n reminisced, missing the simple and easiness of Alastor's companionship. The familiarity and comfort of those times she had with him.

"your sole belongs to me" His voice echoed again, waking y/n up from their trance. Music from the club came beaming back into her head. "The running is over now. I'm calling my favor. Don't worry, you'll benefit from it, but you wont like it"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #x reader #alastor x reader #fem reader #Hazbin hotel x reader #romance #slow burn

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xiao-come-home · 6 days

Note

Making Boothill a new hat and now he's going to wear it everywhere. And if someone dares to insult or damage it? They better say their prayers.

Angry as f Boothill... Oh Lord help us all 🥶

OH HE'S NOT LETTING THIS ONE GO FOR A LONG TIME. It's probably not as bad when someone insults it - although Boothill just might almost break their jaw and throw insults at them (even though it comes out as "just what! Did ya say about my hat, FRECKLE!"), he'll remember that person till they, literally, die.

"Oh, we meet again. The stink that insulted my hat, from my beloved. Hope ya feel peachy (like shit) today."

Boothill truly loves the hat you made him - it's like a mobile piece of your heart he's able to move anywhere, especially if you aren't accompanying him that day! It reminds him of you, your smell, your love for him, and but most importantly—

Poof! Someone shoots a bullet.

It didn't harm Boothill - thank aeons - but his new hat falls on the floor, the now new, uninvited hole carved into it.

...But most importantly, your poured your entire heart into it, and await for him at home.

Boothill freezes for a while, throwing off the shooter, or - how the cyborg decided to call them - the victim; he bends down and picks up the hat, dusting it off carefully, his thumb trailing the outline of the ugly he from the bullet.

"Do you know what have you done?" Boothill's tone is cold like ice; he stands still with his back facing the poor person, his snowy hair floating gently against the wind. The person doesn't seem to answer his question, making him even more agitated.

"I said," Boothill almost growls, spitting out a bullet and turning around, "do ya know what have ya just done?!"

Crimson flashes in his eyes; the bystanders only hear rapid sounds of fired bullets, almost if they had their own mind and hatred to the person they're targeting.

Even though Boothill comes out victorious in this battle (duh!), he plops down on the couch defeated, sighing and clinging the hat to his chest. You kiss and cradle his cheek, feeling him nuzzle into your hand; he closes his eyes in content, but still feeling uneasy inside.

"Some donkey (dick) destroyed my new hat. So I taught them a lesson." He explains calmly and hands you the headpiece. He opens one of his eyes and observes you quietly, awaiting your reaction.

"It's alright - I can fix this for you," you answer gently, giving him a soft smile; your eyes examine the place of the unfortunate bullet that once went through. You can see the wide smile on his face in the corner of your eye, shortly after feeling the familiar, sweet warmth of his lips on your palm.

"But you need to get cleaned up first... There's blood on the entire couch, Boothill!"

#got carried away teehee #hc he loses his accent when he's very angry #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #boothill #.thirst

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psychedelic-ink · 8 months

Text

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋.

DAY THREE OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: priest au + “worship me. until i tell you to stop.”

pairing: priest!ezra x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, dark content

summary: after a breakup, you find solaca at the local church. there, you meet father ezra.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: dubcon, manipulation, brief mention of reader going through a breakup, reader having a brief anxiety attack, reader having confidence issues, loneliness, messy blowjob, degradation, leg humping, dirty talk, facial, power imbalance, dumbification if you squint, use of whore, religious themes, this is written for horny purposes only, priest kink, a lot of 'yes father's and 'forgive me father's

Comfort is what leads you to your local church.

You wouldn’t exactly say you’re a believer, but coming to the church and sticking wishing candles into the sandy surface was one of your finest memories from your childhood. You enjoy the chocolaty smell of the wooden benches, the stained large panes of the windows that cast vibrant rainbows upon the polished floor when the sun hits them just right.

When you sit on the bench, surrounded by a calm dimness and silent prayers, you feel contented, like the world outside doesn’t exist.

You feel lonely out there in the modern world, especially after your breakup, which was the turning point that led you to the adorned wooden doors of the church in the first place. It wasn’t a messy breakup, still, it left you in shambles. He’d moved on so quickly. Just picking up his clothes and throwing them into the bag before he left. It broke your heart if you’re being honest. He was never overly affectionate or necessarily cared about the things you cared about, but it was better than being utterly alone.

Just a little bit of comfort. That’s all you want. Just a sense of belonging.

Here at the church, the sense of commune affects you, even if you’re not exactly a part of it.

Sitting at the edge of the bench, you look up. The church is empty today due to the heavy downpour, there’s only one more person other than you. They’re busy in prayer so you don’t stare at them for long, not wanting to be rude.

Your eyes move away from the person, they linger on the confessionals. You always found the idea appealing in some twisted way. As if asking for forgiveness from some random man will solve all your problems. You never went it, always feeling too paranoid that someone might hear how stupid you sound.

The person finishes their prayer, and as they walk down the middle, you notice it was a youngish man, his hair stuck to his forehead. His steps echo, a second later the sound of his departure rings dull against the cold walls.

You rise slowly, eyes once again fixed on the booths. They’re barely noticeable thanks to how dimly lit the church is, and with no sun there’s little light to guide you.

You’re not even sure a Father will assist you when you open the door to the small space. It creaks loudly and your skin crawls. You’re hesitant, yet you still climb inside and take a seat. It’s small, dark, and smells overwhelmingly of wood. It’s oddly comforting.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself until you hear the door opening and closing from the other side of the booth.

“Welcome. I am Father Ezra, and I am here to listen, guide, and offer you the grace of God's forgiveness. As sunlit moments blend with shadows, so too do our lives weave intricate tales of both frailty and strength. With open ears and an open heart, I beckon you to unburden your spirit. When you're ready, please share your thoughts, knowing that your words are heard in the spirit of compassion and understanding.”

Your eyes widen at the sound of his voice. He doesn’t rush his speech, taking time as if every sentence is a story of its own. It’s so smooth, enticing, beckoning you to pour all the darkness that lingers around your heart. You’re surprised to find yourself wanting to hear more of that honey-dipped voice.

Father Ezra, you’ve heard his name before and from afar, even laid eyes on him. You can barely remember what he looks like now though. You certainly never heard him during sermons, you would’ve definitely remembered his voice if you had.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when you hear a creak and a soft flutter of a robe.

“Sorry,” you say, quick and silent. “This is my first time doing this and I didn’t really have a prepared thing in mind.”

His soft chuckle echoes—god, why does he sound so good?

“Sweet, lost, little bird, you do not need to rush it. You can start by introducing yourself. Tell me your name.”

A shudder that starts from your toes claws all the way up to your spine. All he did was ask your name, yet, it feels like he’s asking for something drastic like your life. You swallow around the know in your throat, lowering your gaze even though there’s no one that can see you.

You give him your name and something you can’t discern shifts in the air.

“What a lovely name,” he hums. “Now tell me, what troubles you on this rainy day.”

“Nothing specific,” a sigh parts your lips, and again, a creak comes through the other side. Your skin prickles. You can feel as if his eyes can see through the thin wall that separates you both. “I’m feeling a bit lonely. I—I went through a break up a couple of weeks ago and. . . I guess I can’t help but feel it’s my fault somehow.”

You wait for him to say something, but when he doesn’t, you continue.

“This might sound dumb—”

“There is no such thing,” you can almost hear the smile in his voice. “There’s no shame in asking for guidance and forgiveness.”

“There were these things. . . that he said about me. Things like I was too needy, too dependent, and too much overall. And I feel like it’s true because no one ever seems to stay with me,” you let out a bitter chuckle as tears begin to well in your eyes. “I don’t know why I’m like this, maybe—maybe God is punishing me for a sin I don’t know and i-if that’s the case, Father, I seek forgiveness.”

A breath. A low, violent exhale of breath. Your eyes flit to the grille, a pair of plush lips now visible through the tightly made slats.

“You ask for forgiveness, atonement, yet do you actually believe?” he coos, voice low.

“I don’t,” you answer a bit too quickly and blood boils under your nails. “I–I mean I don’t know.”

“How do you expect me to help when you doubt the lord’s existence, little one?” Despite the provocative question, you see the faint curve of his smile through the darkness. “Are you desperate?”

“I didn’t mean to offend,” you say quietly. The rain pour had begun again, drowning out the rest of the sound. “I’ve been coming here ever since the breakup. I enjoy watching people pray and smile, looking comforted. I just thought that if I did this, that comfort would extend to me as well. I’m sorry.”

“The comfort is fleeting when you don’t believe it to be true,” he murmurs, ignoring your apology. “If you seek guidance, I can help you understand better and maybe then you’ll receive the comfort and the forgiveness that you crave oh so deeply.”

There’s a mocking lilt to his tone that you decide to ignore. It feels only right when you had outwardly said that you didn’t believe in the man’s religion.

With an open heart, you accept his offer of guidance.

You visit his office almost every night.

You found yourself enjoying the church even more after hours. Ezra became a friend, which didn’t surprise you because that man had an essence about him that would charm the pants off of any devil that he might encounter. You guys did bible studies together and talked about other religions as well, and what it means to understand the words inscribed and given to the people. It was interesting to listen to. He would even give you assignments sometimes, telling you to read a specific paper or book. It felt like being at school again. He’d given you something you thought you had lost forever; A sense of purpose.

It didn’t hurt that he was a sight to look at. His dark brown eyes always held a certain mischief to them, lighting up in amusement whenever you said anything peculiar.

You knew it was cliche to have a crush on a priest, yet here you were, wagging an imaginary tail whenever he praised you for doing a good job.

But tonight is not one of those days you feel all giddy and excited to see him. You enter the wide halls of the church and take a sharp turn towards his office, all you sense is impending doom, your insides riddled with anxiety. You’re shaking, barely able to feel your legs as you walk.

When you enter, his eyes look up from the papers that lay in front of him, his gaze momentarily dropping to where your dress ends, then back up. His brows furrowing instantly at your heavy breathing, “Little bird, what’s wrong?”

“Everything!” you exclaim, heaving a breath. “Everything is wrong—I’m wrong—I—fuck—”

Ezra clears his throat in warning, “Language,” he says with a click of his tongue.

“Sorry, Father.” you look down in shame, your hands balled into tight fists as you fight the urge to pace around his office. “I just—”

He cuts you off, “Why don’t you take a seat and tell me what happened?” he smiles kindly. “And maybe you can stop shaking while you’re at it.”

You nod as you take a seat. Your heart continuously rams against your ribcage and you can barely breathe, your throat convulsing in agony. Ezra gestures to you to look at him. When you do, he takes a deep inhale, making a demonstration in showing how his chest expands and contracts, his hand following the movement as if on waves.

You breathe with him, the oxygen that fills your lungs calming you.

“Good,” he hums. “Now tell me what happened.”

“I saw him today. My—My ex,” you shook your head, reliving the moment. “He’s already seeing someone, which is fine if he was just honest about it. It’s some girl from work, the same girl I asked him about when he moved out,” a hiccup parts your sentence and you continue, your eyes dropping away from Ezra’s. “I said ‘is it her, do you like someone else’ and he said no. He pretended not to recognize me, even though his girlfriend did. I could see it in her eyes but he just walked past me, like I never existed.”

A sole tear trickles down your cheek and you wipe it away with your sleeve, sniffling. When you feel another, you repeat the motion, finding solace in the softness of the fabric. “I’m an idiot,” you say, still not looking at him. “What am I even doing here? I should try to face reality not escape it in some—some church.”

You hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. The church had helped you when you needed it most, it had given you Ezra, most of all. But you couldn’t help the words, you’re angry. Furious. You feel invisible out there, but here, here people recognize you, and ask where you’ve been when you came back the other day. It’s good to know that if you disappear some people would wonder about you.

Ezra’s voice rings in your ear, and without even understanding the words he’s saying, you’re looking up.

“Let’s try something,” he says probably again. “Come here.”

You’re slightly confused but obliged. He pushes his chair slightly back, making some room between him and the desk. Your eyes drop to the end of his robes, two shiny shoes peaking from underneath.

“Get on your knees.”

You snort, “Excuse me?”

“It’s going to calm you,” he says. “Do you trust me?”

Your lips part with a faint gasp, you don’t blink as your eyes search his. There’s a tranquility in his expression that makes your heart throb. “Of course, Father,” you get on your knees.

“Good girl,” he pats his thigh. “Now lay your head.”

You do so without question this time, appreciating the firmness of muscle under your head. A moment passes, awkwardness starting to settle in, then you feel his fingers touching the back of your neck and gradually they move up to your scalp. Humming a gentle melody, he starts to stroke your hair, massaging your head as he went along. A deep sigh comes from the depths of your lungs, your nerves humming, your rigid muscles finally relax.

“You’ve been doing so well these past couple of weeks,” he says, a hint of amusement lingering in his voice. “You’ve been learning, little bird, but you still have much to learn. The church is part of the real world, you haven’t been doing nothing.”

Listening to him so intently, he sends shivers down your spine, the thickness of arousal pooling between your legs. He drags blunt nails down your scalp and comes down to your nape to squeeze from both sides. You’re embarrassed of the moan that rattles your throat but he doesn’t seem to mind it. You lean closer, pressing your cheek further against his leg.

“Isn’t this nice?” he asks without needing the answer. “You, my obedient girl, listening and eager to please. You’ll always feel like this when you’re with me. No anxiety, no need to compete and try to accomplish something when all you want to do is. . . relax. . .”

His voice had dropped to a whisper, every word a gentle caress to your skin. Eyes fluttering close, you only focus on the ups and downs of his voice, your body reacting to every stop and turn. The fabric of your underwear dampens, your folds becoming slicker the more you inch towards him. You ache for your fingers—or better yet his cock—but he isn’t allowed to touch you is he?

You try to remember the lessons in celibacy but can’t seem to remember any of them.

Your tighs instinctively press together, the brief friction doing little in dousing the wildfires between your legs. You wiggle a bit closer, his voice nothing but a siren song now.

Ezra notices the constant movement, his fingers slip under your chin, and drags your eyes up to face him. Your breath hitches. The faint moonlight that trickles through the windows behind him cast his face in complete shadow, his features hardening with darkness. He slips his foot between your legs, the floor creaking under the sole of his shoe, “Now, why can’t you stay still when I’m trying so hard to soothe you, little bird?”

He lifts the point of his shoe, the leather pressing directly against your throbbing clit. A surprised whimper rips from your throat, your body shaking as he drags the leather tip down. Your insides clench with want, with a primal need that you can’t seem to understand.

You’re haunted by his words and the darkness that lurks in his eyes. Despite yourself, you press yourself up against his leg like some animal. You can’t seem to stop staring at him. And by the way he pushes his shoe further into you, borderline on almost being painful, you don’t think he minds either.

Your eyes flutter as he parts his robe, your gaze immediately drops to the outline of his cock that’s visible. Your mouth waters.

“Worship me,” he unbuttons himself with expertise but leaves it at that. “Until I tell you to stop.”

His leg still between your legs, you pull out his cock. The tip is an angry shade of red, precum dotting at the tip, without much thought you lean over and dip your tongue, tasting him for the first time. The taste of him coats the inside of your mouth and you swallow greedily, the blood rush to your ears muffling his voice.

“Such a sweet whore,” he hums. “You like sucking cock, don’t you?”

Dragging your lips down the length of him, you answer with him between your lips, “Yes, Father.”

“I really do enjoy it when you call me that,” his thumb touches your cheek as you finally take him between your lips, you allow out your cheeks and flatten your tongue against the underside of his cock. “All you needed was a little encouragement and now you’re the perfect hole for me. There’s nothing wrong with you, all you need is someone to take care of you.”

You hum in approval around him, taking him deeper while grinding against his leg, your dress rides up your thighs, your underwear nearly sheer in color.

“I can feel how wet you are. So needy,” he lays back in his chair and spreads his legs. “I want to feel every inch of your mouth. I said worship, if this is how you think that works you’re mistaken, dove.”

Your stomach churns at that. You want to make him happy—you truly do. You part from him, strings of saliva following the frame of your lips as you bend down closer to the floor, feeling the full shape of his shoe. You look up to him, the heft of his cock laying directly in the middle of your face, the scent of sex and him clinging to your nose. Opening your mouth, you lick between his balls, taking one into your mouth, you swirl your tongue around it. His eyes roll in pleasure, a thick drop of precome dripping to your forehead.

“That’s it,” he raps and guides you back up, lining the bulbous head of his cock against your lips. He pushes forward, cock filling your mouth then inching down your throat. Tears trickle down your cheeks, your throat convulsing as you try to accommodate to the width of him. You swallow and swallow, until your nose is buried into the dark curls that crown his length. You can barely breathe. “I knew you could take it all, little one. I know that mouth could do more than talk.”

The heavy palm of his hand moves down your throat, he feels the shape of himself through the skin. His cock twitches when it feels his hand, straining your mouth further.

He pulls out and you gasp for air, his grin is wide as he looks down at you. “I want to make a mess of that face,” with the rough pitch of his words, you roll your hips, your clit catches against his shoe and a loud moan spills from your damp lips. He clicks his tongue with annoyance. “Ask for forgiveness,” he growls, hand moving up and down his cock with hard strokes.

“For what, Father?” your voice is barely above a whisper. And you’re not sure why you asked when you’re going to surrender to his wants regardless of what they are.

“For being a whore,” he spits. “For talking about a past flame and for taking pleasure without permission.”

He watches with heavy eyes as you straighten yourself, his cock aimed directly at your face. You watch him with parted lips. His nail gently traces the vein that curls around the length of him, slick sounds filling the normally silent office. He swipes a thumb over his head and thrusts into his fist.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” you begin. “It has been two weeks since my last confession. I have behaved like a whore, talked about another man in the presence of the clergy, and taken pleasure without permission. I come before you seeking God's forgiveness and guidance.”

“Will you repeat your sins?”

“No, Father. Not unless I have permission to do so.”

His hand quickens, his grip tightening, “Do it then,” he snarls with a devilish smile. “Ask me permission to be a whore.”

Instead of a verbal permission, you part your mouth wide and stick your tongue out. His eyes widen with shock momentarily before understanding. He seems pleased and in return, you feel genuine jot for finally doing something right.

He grips your chin, pulling you away from his leg and directly between his thighs. It doesn’t take him long to go over the age—one, two more strokes and you feel the first string of white come spurting over your face. It drips down your forehead from your face. The sounds Ezra make are unhinged, his hips lifting from the seat as he moans openly into the air, defiling you and marking you as his. His seed feels heavy over your face and with your tongue, you catch a bit of it, moaning as you swallow.

Ezra hunches over you and you feel his tongue on your cheek, taking himself into his mouth, he presses his tongue into your mouth, forcing more of himself inside of you.

When he parts away, you’re dazed, all pretense of the life outside of this church gone.

“My sweet bird, so dirty now,” he purrs, this time he collects more of himself over his fingers and stuffs it into your mouth. Your eyes rolling you swallow over and over. “What do you say?” he asks melodically.

“Thank you, Father.”

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