#he’s here to shiver them Timbers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gyusrose · 28 days

Text

➵ you’re so vain -> l.hs

⚠︎ smut (mdni)

✎ jock!heeseung x reader, enemies to ?????, heeseung is rlly annoying, hate sex ;), hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation, backshots lmao. i think that’s it?

summary: attending a new school was supposed to be a fresh start for you, trying to be nice to everyone and have new friends, yet coming across lee heeseung threw all of that out the window.

(heeseung x fem.reader)

wc: 3.2k

——————————————————————————

your sweaty hands could not be gripping the steering wheel any harder. you wouldn’t call yourself “super shy” but when it comes to a whole new community of people, teenagers, hell yeah you are.

you had to move exactly at the middle of the year due to your mom’s work. they offered her double the salary at the other side of the city, who was she to say no to that? although you were going to miss your friends and the overall environment of your old home, you couldn’t just tell your mom ‘no’, either way her decisions are final.

you just got here two days ago, and to be honest, it wasn’t that bad. the worst thing so far is the fact that the nearest shopping center was 30 minutes away but you’ll live.

you didn’t except your first day of school to be so nerve-wracking. surely you’ll make some friends but who knows what people are like here. eventually, you saw the big navy blue sign with your school’s name on it. it was an averagely big school, bigger than your old one, which also meant more people.

the parking space alone was scary. it was huge yet already full even though it was still fairly early. you went around in circles around the parking lot, trying to find a vacant spot. fortunately you did at the second-to-last line.

as you tried to park, the limited space you had made it difficult to, having to back up and drive in constantly. as you reversed your car, you must have completely forgotten that you aren’t the only one there, feeling a small crash at the bumper of your car.

your eyes widened in panic. you looked back to see what you hit, and with your luck, it revealed at very nice black car, to which you’ve just hit. you tried to quickly get into your parking spot, hoping it was nothing serious, but then someone came walking up to you.

‘shit, that must be the owner’ you saw his red, rather handsome, fuming face.

you got out of your car to confront the first person interaction.

“hey look im so-“

“CANT YOU FUCKING DRIVE RIGHT? YOU HIT MY VERY EXPENSIVE CAR WITH YOUR THING, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

oh he was an asshole. you almost scoffed in his face. who does he think he is.

“it was accident that’s all, it was barely a scratch calm down man.”

“IT WAS DEFINITELY A SCRATCH LOOK AT IT! JUST BECAUSE YOU KEEP YOUR CAR LOOKING ALL MISERABLE DOESNT MEAN I WILL, DO YOU EVEN HAVE A LICENSE?”

lord take me back. you were so close to just leaving him there arguing with himself. but you didn’t want to make him even angrier.

“look im sorry! i can pay for the fix up if that’s what you want, i dont know what else to do?”

the boy scoffed and rolled his eyes at your statement.

“you think i don’t have the money for it? please, it shows you’re a newbie around here.”

“i didn’t mean it like that-“

“yo heeseung!! come on bro!” another blonde boy called from afar, hopefully ending the argument y’all were having.

“ watch your back new girl.” with one last glare, he left to join his group of friends.

you rolled your eyes. shiver my fucking timbers, you thought.

you took a deep breath before grabbing your backpack and making your way into school , hoping to never see his face ever again.

you thought that was going to be the end of it all. but oh boy were you wrong. soon you found out that heeseung is the captain of the football team, and pretty much the most popular boy in school. as cliche as it sounds, every girl would drop their panties if he asked them to.

people know he’s not the nicest person ( an asshole) yet they still look up to him. that’s angered you. how are all these people so dumb? just because he’s kinda good-looking? seriously?

over the course of a few weeks, you’ve managed to make some friends, your closest taehyun and Isa. although you tried to block the negativity, heeseung made it really hard. always giving you snarky comments when he saw you around, ridiculing you in front of other people. somehow always finding a way to run into you despite not having any classes together. except gym.

“ bro open your eyes, catch the damn ball!” he yelled from across from you.

you hated sports. even less could you play one, but you gotta do it for the grade.

“the ball was too high up dummy!” you retorted, rolling your eyes for maybe the 100th time in the class period.

if you hated gym before, you definitely hated it more now.

as the period ended, you decided to take a quick shower in the locker rooms since you couldn’t handle being all sweaty and gross throughout the day.

heeseung finished changing and was outside the locker room with his friends, chatting, waiting for the bell to ring. that’s when he may have accidentally eavesdropped the conversation between your two friends, he could barely the names of.

“where’s _____?” taehyun asked isa, noticing how you weren’t with her.

“she’s taking a shower right now, she told us to not wait for her.” Isa shrugged before taehyun nodded.

a beautiful idea popped in heeseung’s brain. it was too good.

he excused himself and sneakily waited by the girl’s locker room, waiting for everyone to come out. once he only heard the shower you were using running, he quietly entered the room. the bell had rang about a minute ago, so the gym was empty, only you and him. the gym teacher god knows where.

he saw his target and rapidly grabbed the pile of clothes sitting on the bench, a smirk evident in his face.

suddenly the shower stopped running, making heeseung hurry and exit the locker room.

the shower felt too good, you think you spent more time that you anticipated to. as you exited the shower tiles, you looked around for your clothes, which you remember clearly leaving them in the bench closest to the shower. you looked around the whole locker room, hoping you were wrong and placed them elsewhere. unfortunately, you couldn’t even find your damn socks.

your biggest fear has come true. you’re now naked, nothing but a towel covering you, this was more than just humiliating. you felt sad, mad, angry, embarrassed all at once. they’ve been stolen for sure, and you were more than sure on who did it.

grabbing your phone you called Isa, to see if she could help you somehow. and she indeed did. bringing you some spare clothes she had. thankfully, you always bring extra underwear since situations like these could happen. you just had to wait for isa for the clothes, yet the five minutes she took felt like five hours. unfortunately, passing period is over, meaning some students are coming in the locker room to change.

many of them just straight up stared at you. giving you weird looks as to why you were pretty much naked in the middle of the locker room, but none had the guts to ask you.

you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. lee heeseung won’t hear the end of it.

“LEE HEESEUNG!” you yelled across the field. he and his friends were siting down eating lunch outside when you spotted him after trying to find him after the stunt he just pulled.

heeseung knew it was coming, giggling with his friends as they heard you yell his name once again. “ oh she’s about to scold me now .” heeseung scoffed but still got up and went over to you.

“yes ma’am?” he said with a smile, you wish you could slap off but you’re better than that.

“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS?”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about..” heeseung tried acting innocent but failed as he just burst out laughing. you groaned, how on earth is that funny?

“cute panties by the way” he continued to laugh, not sparing a glance at your mad expression on your face.

“you’re such an ass, i hate your guts.” you said leaving him alone, laughing to himself.

“yo bro i think she actually got mad this time.” his friend, jake came over.

heeseung shrugged. “she’s so sensitive, it wasn’t even that bad.”

“i can’t believe he did that…” taehyun said as you told them both what had happened. Isa knew a little bit but not who did it.

“that’s fucked up, what’s he got against you so much?”

you shrugged. “i guess because i gave his car a little scratch, but i guess he took it to heart since he hasn’t stopped bothering me since. he’s a jerk.”

“finally someone who thinks the same as me!” taehyun said making you chuckle.

“then get back at him! you know the one thing that makes him who he is is that damn football.” Isa said.

you tried to be the bigger person this whole time, not paying much mind to his little remarks or pranks he pulls, biting back a little wouldn’t hurt right?

“you know what, you’re right.”

“lee heeseung, mrs. park wants to speak to you.” mr.jung said calling heeseung.

heeseung who was barely paying attention heard his name. his frowned at this. what on earth could she want to talk about with him? either way, he went to her classroom.

he entered the empty classroom to find his coach and mrs.park, waiting for him. what the fuck? heeseung was more confused now. maybe they were going to congratulate him for the good work this semester? his coach’s face said otherwise though.

“there you are, you may be wondering why you’re here..” mrs.park started. heeseung nodded, feeling uneasy.

“a student came forward, showing how you copied word for word her whole assignment, the one i assigned a week ago. i didn’t notice it at first but it’s very clear now, you may know how cheating is unacceptable in my class, i’ve decided to fail you in this assignment, plus you’ll be serving detention this whole week..” she turned to the coach.

heeseung’s heart started beating at a rapid pace, he’s never been caught cheating, and being failed on the assignment that was a big part of his grade, it means he’s most likely failing the class now. the rules for football stated that all players should be passing all of their classes if not, they’ll be dropped….

no no no, the lee heeseung can’t be dropped. he’s the captain! the star player!

“since you’re failing this class heeseung, i think you know what’s about to happe-“

“please coach! don’t kick me out, i’m the captain! what would the team do without me? i’ll get my grade up as soon as possible im-“

“calm down calm down, i’m not going to kick you out, it’s the middle of the season, but unfortunately you won’t be playing the next three games. if your grade is not up by then, then i will drop you. understood?” his coach stated earning a sharp nod by heeseung.

he’s glad he’s still on the team but what’s the point if he can’t play? he’s going to become a joke. the captain that’s a bench warmer. how stupid.

he left the classroom enraged. he knows exactly who did this.

“bro what? what do you mean you ain’t gonna play ?” riki said in disbelief at what his captain just said.

“some snitch told mrs.park that i cheated on the last assignment and coach suspended me for the next three games, and i got detention all week!” sunghoon unknowingly chuckled. heeseung looked at him with a glare.

“what? she got you good, what did you expect hee?” sunghoon kept laughing, making some of the others also laugh silently.

heeseung had nothing to say back, he just rolled his eyes. “tch, whatever.”

nevertheless, you were overjoyed seeing heeseung slouching on the bench. you couldn’t miss this once in a lifetime scenario. obviously you were the cause for it. heeseung asks Isa almost all the time for her notes or to straight up copy her. she willingly let you rat him out after what he did to you.

he can sense how all eyes were on him, but he just tried to block everyone out a focus on the game. he had a poker face on, but deep inside he was irritated . he saw how you were smirking and laughing with your two little friends. you knew what you were doing.

“ahh look who it is, the benchwarmer! “ you said chuckling as you made your way to heeseung.

after the team (barely) won, jake threw an ‘after party’ at his house. even though you don’t normally go to these parties, especially from those boys, you felt like a party would do good with your marvellous mood. something about seeing heeseung’s frowny face made feel over the moon.

“seems like cat got your tongue now huh? dont have anything to say-“

in a blink of an eye you were pulled into a room, heeseung’s fingers wrapped around your neck, pulling your face closer to his.

“what the fuck? heeseung-“

“shut the fuck up.” his hoarse voice caught you off guard. he was actually really mad.

“you think what you did it’s fucking funny? huh? almost getting me kicked out ? “ you’ve never seen him this enraged before. making you almost scared, yet….kinda turned on? no, you hate him, snap out of it! you told yourself yet the wetness in between your legs became hard to ignore.

you didn’t respond. “fuck, you’re so annoying, i can’t fucking stand you. i hate you.” he saw lowly. fuck that was hot.

you spoke before thinking. “then show me.”

not needing to tell him twice, heeseung pulled you completely in. your lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle, a fierce and consuming clash that spoke longing and raw need.

The kiss deepened, fueled by an unspoken urgency, their mouths exploring each other with a fervor that left y’all breathless. his grip on your neck becoming tighter.

“shit im gonna show you to fucking behave.” he said before pushing you into the bed forcefully. you may have discovered a new kink of yours. watching as he undressed himself and yourself rapidly. feeling his anger through every touch he gave you.

he rubbed through your folds before inserting two fingers aggressively. your body jolted at the sudden move.

“holy shit go softer dumbass.”

“aw you think i give a fuck? suck it up and take it since you think you’re all that.” his fingers pumped faster and faster making it hard for you to answer back to his stupid remarks.

“oh my god..” you tried to pull his hand away before you cum. not wanting to see you orgasm so easily yet.

“just fuck me already heeseung, or is your dick as tiny as your brain?”

heeseung looked darkly at you. that stupid mouth of yours can’t shut up will it?

he retracted his fingers put of you and took his boxers off. wanting nothing more than to prove you wrong.

shit. your eyes went wide at what stood in front of you. saying he was big was an understatement. it was like a zipper for your mouth. how was that thing going to fit inside of you?

“can’t say anything now, can you slut?” he pulled your legs down the mattress to have you at the perfect angle to ram into you.

heeseung ran his til over your folds, teasing his way in. making you aggrevated.

“just put it in for fucks sake!”

“tell me how bad you want it.” you shook your head, no way were you going to beg. no way.

“alright then, i guess im gonna go.” he said letting go of your waist, acting as if he was going to leave.

“okay okay! please fuck me, i want it so bad, i want your big cock so bad heeseung.” heeseung moaned at your words. he didn’t wait any longer and thrusted all of him in you.

you both moaned yet it was more painful for you. you’ve never had something so big inside you before.

“fuck yeah..” he said then grabbing your neck, slightly choking you. your hands went to his biceps, trying to find something to hold on to as the speed he was thrusting in became more hostile.

“fuck me harder, like the asshole you are.” you said in between breaths. heeseung took the challenge and thrusted violently. the skin slapping and wetness of your core could probably be heard in the party outside.

“of course a whore like you would like to be fucked like this.”

before you could respond he pulled out of you earning a desperate groan from you, but then your were flipped, now on all fours and before you knew it he was back in you again. gripping your hip with one hand while he pulled your hair on the other.

“such a tight pussy, you probably fantasized about this am i right?” he said in your ear. you shook your head through your moan.

“in your dreams lee, in your fucking dreams. fuck you.”

“i’m quite literally doing that.” chuckling, he let go of your hair and instead gripped your other hip, going in deeper, nudging your cervix literally driving you to an edge.

“fuck i’m cumming.” you cried out. never has an orgasm felt like this. heeseung was on edge as well, feeling you clench around his dick did it for him.

your climax rose over you, making you fall into the pillow while heeseung kept thrusting until his own organs came over him, pulling out and releasing his white ropes all over your back.

tiredly, he laid besides you in the strangers bed, not knowing what to say now.

you turned to him, smirking. “i think i may hate you even more now.”

1K notes · View notes

tacticaldiary · 10 months

Note

hi hello, if you have the chance, could u write a ghost x reader of an overworked/ burnt out reader who faints or something. just stressed out overprotective ghost to warm our hearts <3

thank you so much xxx

Bone Tired

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort ; Fluff

Ghost knows she's been pushing herself but he didn't think it was this bad. She nearly gives him a goddamn heart attack by collapsing right in front of him.

"Don't make me tie you to the bed."

"Jokes on you, I'm into that." She snickers at the long-suffering sigh he lets out.

Masterlist

Just because they weren't deployed on a mission didn't mean things were any less busy for them back at base. Drills, morning runs, training, paperwork, and more; there was always something to keep them busy.

"Focus." The low timber of his voice snaps her out of her thoughts, dragging her back to the present. "I would've incapacitated you three times by now." Ghost says with a frown. Or at least she thinks he's frowning under that mask. He sure sounds like it.

"Yeah, sorry L.T." She blinks, widening her stance and dragging her tired mind to attention. Everything just felt...off. Her clothes were too itchy, the bright fluorescent lights hanging from the room were too prickly, and the training mat under her feet felt difficult to get her footing into. Maybe she was catching a bug? She'd been feeling mildly feverish the past few days, after all, sporting a headache she opted to power through with painkillers.

Grunts and groans and jeers echo around them as others take their turn to spar with each other. She'd already lost against Gaz once, a rare outcome in itself, and now she was pretty sure Ghost was going easy on her. She's surprised she isn't face-first on the mat right now, actually.

Blinking away the knowledge that her arms feel like lead and her mind foggy, she lunges at him with her fist, an attack easily parried and side stepped by the man.

In all honestly, she's known for a while that she needed a proper break. A few days to herself full of nothing. The last op she'd been on had been long and gruelling, a solo one at that, weeks' worth of trekking through a mountain range far south in the cold to get to an isolated camp where their target had been laying low. It was a success, but she swears she can still feel the snow bite into her flesh if she thinks too hard about it.

The moment she'd got back there had been debriefings with Price to attend, files to be reported to Laswell, all the while keeping up with her usual routine and drills...

Her eyes widen as she's spun around, an arm circling her throat and pinning her in a hold.

"You're sloppy." Ghost clicks his tongue from behind her, and if she were any less exhausted, maybe she would have felt a shiver go down her spine.

Here, they were just soldiers, but in private? That's a whole other story. Their relationship had to be kept under wraps for a multitude of reasons, but Simon was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. Having someone who understood her work, who shared the experience and knew exactly what she was talking about, who knew the best ways to comfort and listen and advise her...it was rare.

A rare and beautiful thing, that's what they had. They helped each other grow, made up for the others weaknesses and blind spots.

But they weren't in private right now, so after she taps his arm to concede, he pushes her away, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Are you ill?" He asks tightly, eyes going up and down her body as if he could detect whatever was making her pause. She'd seemed fine the last time he saw her, but clearly something was wrong if she was this...dazed?

She shakes her head. "Just didn't sleep well last night." She lies through her teeth. She couldn't afford to be sick right now, couldn't afford the luxury of wasting time resting. She still had to report to Laswell, attend a meeting on what the next steps were to reach their targets close contacts. Then she promised Soap she'd hit the shooting range with him, and then Gaz asked her to help him with that paperwork he had to fill out...

Taking a step back, she stumbles a little.

It all bubbles up inside her, overwhelming and insurmountable, a mountain of work that keeps piling up to reach new heights and-

Was Ghost talking? She blinks, trying to get the ringing out of her ears. It was loud and annoying, and it made the headache she'd been sporting since yesterday stronger.

Ghost's eyes widen. He's definitely saying something. She hopes Simon knows she wasn't ignoring her on purpose. She was always good at reading him, so maybe if her vision would stop spotting and focus, she could actually see his eyes properly and figure out what was wrong.

In the end, the roaring in her ears becomes deafening, to the point where she squeezes her eyes shut. How easy would it be to just...stay like this. Just for one moment. To revel in the nothingness of the dark, where she got just one second of silence away from the list of things she had to keep doing.

Just one more moment.

Another step back, an unsteady sway.

She hits the ground hard, the last thing she hears being the yell of her name from that familiar, rough voice.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Bleary eyes blink themselves awake, squinting against the warm glow of the lamp by her bedside table. Groaning, she attempts to sit up, only to widen her eyes in alarm when a hand firmly pushes her back.

Instincts kicking in, her hand flies up to latch onto the wrist in a weak grip.

"It's just me." The low voice has her relaxes instantly, hand falling away onto the bed.

"Simon." She says, surprised when her voice doesn't come out as more than a whisper. "Where...what happened?" She winces at the throbbing in her head as she takes in the scene. Simon settled down in a chair next to her, a book laying open faced on her side table.

"You passed out." He says, plainly worried. "The medics said you fainted from exhaustion. Ain't that something to explain, love?" Now that he's ditched the mask, she can see the creases of worry in his forehead, the downwards quirk of his lips. "Damn near gave me a heart attack."

"Passed out?" She echoes, trying to remember. "I...guess I did."

She sure feels like it. Her body feels like lead, as if it's doing everything it can to ensure she stays in bed. Shivering slightly, she looks around for another blanket. When she reaches for the fluffy duvet folded at the foot of her bed, it's immediately snatched out of reach by Simon.

"Give it." She demands, reaching a hand out.

"You have a fever." Simon shakes his head, holding the item out of reach. "It'll break quicker this way."

"I'm fine." She protests, managing to sit up this time under his unimpressed stare. "I'm alright, Simon. Can't afford to be sick right now."

"That's not how it works." He sighs, standing up. "I thought I'd hurt you for a moment." She watches him walk towards the small table near the opposite wall, fiddling with something there while he talked. "Damn near took a year of my life away with how you crumpled onto the mat."

"It wasn't you." She assures him quickly. Some of the tension visibly drains from his shoulder in what she can only assume is relief. Needless as it is, she feels a little guilty. How long had he been thinking her passing out had been his fault? No, this was on her, on her busy schedule and-

Wait, what time was it?

Dread curls up in her gut as she slowly turns towards the small window. The lamp was on when she woke up, of course it was night.

"I was just tired is all." She says, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "But I'm as fresh as a daisy now, and I've got so much shit to do." She lets out an anxious, long breath as her brain kicks in, charting how much time she'd lost, how quickly she'd need to work to get it all done-

"I have that meeting with Laswell...I wonder if Price thinks I just didn't show up to his office..." She doesn't realise she's been muttering her thoughts aloud until Ghost cuts her off.

"You're not going anywhere, sweetheart." He declares over his shoulder. "Get your ass back in bed."

"I can't, there's too much I have to do today." She protests. "And I've already lost half the day-"

"I wasn't asking."

"Simon-" He turns around and she finally sees what he's been doing.

"Don't make me tie you to the bed." His threat is much less effective when he's holding one of her mugs that says 'Bad Bitch' in obnoxious neon pink calligraphy, the phrase surrounded by a flowery border. She'd got it for him as a gag gift for his last birthday and had cackled at the dead, unimpressed stare he fixed her with. It had remained in his room for a while before she'd snatched it, claiming she'd actually appreciate it.

"Jokes on you, I'm into that." She snickers at the long-suffering sigh he lets out. Her laughs morph into a deep chest-rattling cough that wipes the smile off her face and leaves her wincing.

Sitting next to her after tossing the pillow onto the mattress, he brings the warm mug of tea up to her. "Easy does it." He mutters quietly when she grabs it from him and takes a drink.

"Thank you." She sighs, handing it back.

"Talk to me." He orders, not unkindly. Simon wasn't someone who was all lovey-dovey, but he loved just as hard and much as the next person. Just because he didn't choose to flourish it with pretty words and smiles doesn't mean she felt any less cared for.

He was a man of action, through and through.

Little touches throughout the day, silent glances checking in with her. Staying by her side during missions, working in tandem and recognising when she needed space versus when she needed him near.

He was her other half, and it had been eating away at him that he didn't fucking realise she was this unwell until the consequences caught up with her.

Ghost won't admit the primal flash of fear that struck through him when she'd crumpled to the ground like that. He thought he'd hurt her while sparring, that he'd done something to make her pass out like that. Even after the medics cleared her and he carried her here, tucked her in and everything, there was still a nagging worry of 'what-if' in his mind.

The relief of hearing her confirm it wasn't him was tainted by the knowledge that he hadn't noticed her pushing herself.

After a moment of deliberation, she gives in, tucking herself back into bed and thinking for a moment. She tells him everything, tells him how she hasn't had a second to herself in these past few days, telling him about the load she has on her shoulders and the crushing time limit ticking down in her ears for every task she had.

He listens quietly, to his credit, doesn't interrupt her even when she trails off, having to muster up the energy to keep going.

The fact that talking tired her out to this degree made his heart twist uncomfortably.

"I didn't think I had a choice but to take it all head on." She finishes, stifling a yawn. She looks up at him for his response when he doesn't talk, finds him staring at her with a half-lidded gaze, a furrow in his brow.

"Why didn't you ask me?"

"Ask you what?" She asks, confused.

"For help."

That was...a good question. It takes her a second to come up with a sheepish answer. "I...I didn't think of that." She admits, drawing out another quiet sigh from him.

"You're going to be the death of me." He grumbles, but she can't complain when he's gently tugging her to the side and climbing in with her under the covers. "I've sorted things out with Price and Laswell. Do whatever else you need to when you're capable of not face planting into the mats again."

A warm feeling of gratitude washes over her, her heart warming with the kind gesture. It was so...it was so Simon.

When he tangles their legs together and tucks her into his side, she wrinkles her nose. "I'm all sweaty." She tries to argue, tapping at his shoulder half-heartedly when he lays down with her, a strong arm around her waist pulling her in.

"I've had your blood on my hands before, I don't think sweat is going to be a problem." She can hear his voice rumble low in his chest, right under where he head rests, and she hides a smile in the fabric of his shirt.

When he runs a hand through her hair, she practically melts against him.

Eventually, her shivering stops, replaced with a bone-deep warmth that nothing could chase away. Simon. The warmth of him, of his care, of his love. She'd take it over a heatpack any day.

His arms around her make her relax. Nothing would nag at her, drag her away to chain her to a desk under Simon's watch, that much she knows. Safe. Protected. The feeling was rare living the life she did with her job, but Simon made it so easy to believe that she was untouchable as long as she was with him.

Before she knows it, her eyes flutter shut and her breathing evens out, because goddamn did the bastard know exactly where and how to touch her to get her all sleepy and relaxed.

"Thank you." She mumbles against him, words half incoherent.

"Always, love." He rumbles back, brushing his lips over her head.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(16/07/2023)

2K notes · View notes

readychilledwine · 7 months

Note

can i please request something with azriel where reader has a voice kink? like when he whisper something in her ear her, she gets goosebumps and can’t focus, literally like his deep, dark voice turns her on. He could be asking about the laundry and she’ll literally blush bc pls it’s azriel. And he notices this immedietly 👀

I'm sweating. Are you sweating?

Whispers in the Dark

Summary - Azriel is ever the opportunist when it comes to using a recently discovered fetish against you.

Warnings - Auralism, dom/sub dynamics, implied smut/sexual situations, implied edging and teasing, Azriel being a daddy and playful

"What's wrong, starlight?" You could feel him smirking against your ear, his scarred hands running up and down your arms as chills broke out around them. "Why are you so distracted, hmm?"

Your eyes fluttered shut as he placed a kiss and then a gentle nip to your pointed ear. "Stop it," your voice was shaking. "I need to get this done for Rhys. I promised him I'd have his desk organized by the end of the day."

Azriel licked your ear before pulling away. "Fine. Have it your way." The shit eating grin on his face, the way he left the room without turning his back to you, all of it had wetness pooling between your thighs as you went back to organizing Rhysand's countless reports and separating them by who should be handling them.

Azriel had figured out three months into your relationship he could get you off on his voice alone. He had asked you one day about laundry and mending a shirt Cassian had torn turning a sparring matching, and he said it was your face that gave it way before the scent of arousal did.

He said you gave him that pretty glazed over eyes, mouth slightly parted stare he normally only saw during intimate moments. "That's new," he had said gently. "What am I supposed to do with information, starlight?" And the torture began.

He'd use that deep timber in hushed bedroom tones while asking you the most mundane things, simply to keep you on edge for hours at a time until you two were finally alone and that ache would become too much.

Then he'd use that same tone, praising you for how well you sucked or took his cock, how pretty you looked being obedient for him, blushing for him, and calling you the dirtiest names as he thrust into you long into the early hours of the morning.

He could get you off with his voice and fingers alone. And the cocky bastard knew it, too. Hed make you sit there, naked and backed against his chest with one of his long fingers circling your clit as he whispered in your ear all the things he'd be doing to you later, if you were just a good enough girl to cum.

Today was exceptionally horrible. He had been gone for month with nothing but his own hand to please himself with and the second he saw you in that pretty black dress, that blue topaz necklace dangling perfectly between your breasts, he knew he had to have you within the next few hours.

He had stopped at nothing. Sending his lust down the bond, sending his shadows to play underneath that tight dress, and finally pulling the last card he had, his voice. It'd been an hour of speaking to you about nothing and everything all at once. And now he waited, feet prompted up on his desk, truth teller in hand, and shoulders relaxed.

The second his shadows warned him you were coming, he set it out to look like he was working by pretending to read over some mission updates from the twins. You entered his office, shutting the door behind you with a soft click, and waited. "Do you need something, my starlight?" He smirked, hidden behind the report, as he watched you shiver.

You'd be here, caving to his every whim and nasty desire in a few minutes. The constant tug on the bond followed by wave after wave of arousal crashing down on him ensured that.

"I need you," your voice was laced with desperation. "Please."

Azriel continued speaking to you, that husky low voice doing exactly what he was intending. "I thought you needed to take care of Rhysand, hmm? I'm sure he can help you with your needs."

Your breathing had hitched, eyes slightly shut. He would not cave to you until you told him exactly what you needed. "I need your cock, sir."

"Oh? Is that so, starlight?" You nodded as he finally looked up at you and dropped the papers. "Then come have it and take what's yours."

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #az x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you

614 notes · View notes

xxshadowbabexx · 1 month

Text

Of Saltwater and Shorelines, Chapter One; Catching Prey

*to the tune of the sofia the first theme song*

You were a princess in the kingdom doing alright

Then you became a pirate overnight

Now you’ve gotta figure out how to do it right

So much to learn and see~

Warnings: kidnapping, angst, eventual smut, eventual romance, eventual fluff, slow burn, fem reader

The air was cold when you went to bed, wrapped in your silk sheets and satin gown- nothing but the best for the Kings daughter, after all.

You went to bed dreaming of a life containing more. Of cerulean blue skies and navy seas, of people who wouldn’t treat you like a bird; pretty to look at, odd to speak, and belongs in a cage. You dreamed of sand beneath your feet instead of those stiff pointed toe shoes and dresses that allowed you to breathe.

You really felt like Alice, trapped at a gloomy party when you should have been running wild in wonderland.

But you mustn’t worry, your white rabbit will be here soon enough.

He was right outside your door, after all.

You were too busy being subconsciously swept away in the land of make believe to notice how your door pushed open. If you had, you would’ve seen the largest man you’d ever met stalking towards you, a skeleton mask covering his face. You were too lost in dreams of what ifs and what could’ve beens to feel the scratchy cloth he places over your face. And then after a few seconds, you were even further gone.

•••

The first thing you noticed when you woke was your sore arms, and how they laid above your head. Instinctively you went to pull them down and massage out the kinks, only to find yourself unable. It was then that you opened your eyes.

You found yourself facing cerulean blue skies and navy seas. How ironic.

“About time the princess woke up, aye?” and your head spun around to be met with the prettiest deep brown eyes and skin clearer than yours. There was a smirk playing the mans full lips, as he awaited your answer.

“Uh… yeah, I guess so,” you mumble out, not fully coherent thanks to the shock.

“A shy one, are we?”

You frown. You weren’t shy you were… well mannered and polite. It’s not your fault women are expected to make themselves little.

“I asked you a question, girl,”

“S-sorry-“ you murmured, hating the weakness in your tone “you could say that I am shy. Now where are we going?” you choked out, wanting to seem strong and unafraid. But deep down you were shivering your timbers, no pun intended

The man before you hummed in response to your question, letting it go unanswered as he looked you up and down before smiling to himself.

“I suppose I should get the Cap’n then,” he said, to you or himself you weren’t sure. Then he left you bound as he walked out your peripheral.

You used the moments alone to gather your thoughts, unsure when you would next be able to.

You were clearly on a boat, so you can assume that man is a pirate- not the highest up since eh mentioned getting the captain, but a pirate nonetheless. You must’ve been take. while you slept, although you still weren’t sure of the why.

Pirates had been a trouble in the kingdom the past several years, but what did that have to do with you? You were just the princess, a mere decoration until your father passed.

Even then, who’s to say you’re in a bad situation? You were miserable in the palace, so maybe this will do you some good.

“It’s a bloody nice view, ain’t it?” came a deep and scratchy voice from your left.

When you turned you saw a beefy man, lined with scars like they were jewels. For someone so big you’re not sure how you failed to hear him coming- must’ve been too lost in thought.

“Yeah, it is,” you smiled, looking at his eyes and how they matched the sky, except they were tinted with wisdom, and just like the waves you could tell there was something dark waiting in the trenches.

“Donnae get me wrong, lassie, appreciate yer lack o’ screamin’, but ye donnae seem scared enough considerin’ yer predicament,”

You shrug the best you can with your hands still bound, “Adventures are fun,” you smile cheekily.

He grunts disapprovingly, but you don’t miss the sliver of a smile that graces his features momentarily.

“Well yer a lil pocket a sunshine, ain’t ye? Now c’mon-“ he says, pulling out a knife and cutting the ties to your wrists, allowing your arms to fall limply to your sides, “-we oughta get ye ready fer the day, now follow me, bonnie,”

You did as you were told, you were on a boat after all, there weren’t many places to go. He led you into a small room filled with men. You counted five total. The captain, the man you had spoken to when you first awoke, a curly haired ginger who was on the shorter but stockier side, a brooding man with his face covered by a skull that you prayed wasn’t real, and a scruffy looking man with mutton chops and a hat.

You swallowed. They were going to eat you alive.

“Well ain’t she a dime,” the ginger once smirks, causing your the captain to snicker.

“Yeah, she a real looker, isn’t she?”

You can’t help the way you move to wrap your arms around your torso, suddenly aware of how you looked. Hair tussled from vivid dreams while sleeping and the salty air from the waves. Not to mention your nightgown barely reached mid-calf and showed off too much of your chest to be appropriate.

But these people were pirates- scoundrel. What did they care?

“Alright hen, we donnae got none of the frilly dresses you an’ yer kind wear. They’re utter rubbish if ye ask me. Donna see how one could move in em an they donna look pretty on ye either. But we ‘ave got some trousers ye can put on, as well as a pretty new blouse fer ye too. Stole it off of the South Port special fer ye,” The captain spoke and you paused, eyes narrowing.

“I am not wearing stolen clothes,”

And he smirked, like a devil or a madman you weren’t sure, “Tha’s alright hen. But we cannae have ye workin’ in tha little rag ye got on yerself. So it’s either what we’ve got ‘ere for ye, or ye can work naked,”

Well you definitely weren’t doing that, so begrudgingly you took the clothes out of your captains hands, making a point to not look at him as you did so. “Where do I change?”

“Right here, princess,” the scruffy one spoke again.

You didn’t want to. Didn’t want these men to see you naked, and you debated arguing, but what point was there? Where else would you change? Out in the open where anyone passing by could see? No thank you.

You sighed as you bunched up your dress at your waist before pulling it up over your head. You heard someone wolf whistle as the sight of your breasts, and you made quick work of pulling on the blouse, momentarily tangling yourself in the strings that crisscrossed along your chest before settling into your trousers.

“We would’ve left the room if you asked, sugar,” the ginger spoke, causing blood to rush to your cheeks. But why should you be embarrassed? You scolded yourself. They’re the ones who ogled you as you changed, not the other way around!

“Ghost,” the captain commanded “Show ‘er ‘round fer me,”

Without a word, the man deemed Ghost grabbed you by the arm surprisingly gently, although you didn’t have time to dwell on it before he was pulling you away.

Series Taglist

@v1x3n

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #call of duty x reader #john price #simon riley #soap cod #johnny soap mactavish #cod soap #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #captain mactavish #pirate au

167 notes · View notes

chvoswxtch · 1 year

Text

carnal desire

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: after a long night defending hell's kitchen, matt seeks a release within you.

warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 3k

a/n: all of the warnings. every single one of them. all the kinks. this was purely me going feral over the black suit of sin. i refuse to apologize. happy sinning. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Any trace of guilt Matt felt about slipping through your window in the middle of the night vanished the second the purity of your scent enveloped him. The steady rhythm of your heart had lured him in like a siren’s song, and even though he could tell from three blocks away that you were deep beneath the blanket of sleep, he’d made up his mind that he would ask for your forgiveness later.

Matt carefully shut the window that you left unlatched just for him, keeping his footsteps light as he followed the familiar path from the living room to your bedroom. Removing his gloves from his hands, his fingers twitched at his sides sensing the soft silk slip that covered your body. His favorite. Matt had gotten it for you as a gift, and you had gone out and bought it in several more colors claiming it was the softest thing you had ever worn. Your skin was incredibly soft as it was, but covered in the fabric of silk…God that was something else.

Toeing his boots off by your door, he silently snuck around the bed to perch on the edge of it, removing the cloth mask from his face to set on your nightstand. He allowed his fingertips to trail faintly along from the top of your shoulder down to your wrist languidly, repeating the path in the opposite direction as he felt you begin to stir. He should feel bad about waking you up at such an hour, knowing you had to be up early for work, but his carnal desire couldn’t be tamed tonight, and the Devil wanted his fill.

“Wake up, sweetheart.”

Matt brushed his lips along the shell of your ear as he whispered, starting a trail of open mouthed kisses along your jawline. The feeling of his coarse facial hair tickled slightly, and even subconsciously, you leaned into his touch. Matt smiled to himself at this, always loving the way your body reacted to him. It filled him with a sense of pride and power, knowing only he could elicit that kind of reaction from you. He lightly grabbed your face in his hand to turn it more towards himself, leaning in to bump his nose against yours before placing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Come on, angel. Wake up for me.”

The labor of your breathing became lighter, signaling to him that he had gotten through to you. As you began to slowly wake up, you felt a blaze of warmth cradling your face, and realized the velvet timber of Matt’s voice wasn’t just echoing in your dreams; he was here. Blinking a few times, Matt’s shadowed form suddenly came into focus, and you instinctively grabbed onto his wrist.

“Matty?”

“Hi, pretty girl.”

Letting your eyes adjust to the darkness, you sat up slowly to face Matt, trying to get a good look at him with the aid of the glowing moonlight filtering in through your curtains. He didn’t appear to be in bad shape that you could tell, and his face was surprisingly free of blood and bruising. Placing your palm on his chest, a slight shiver ran through you feeling the heat coming off his body beneath the thin black athletic shirt he wore. As much as you wished he would wear something that could actually protect him from harm, you couldn’t deny how goddamn good he looked in the black outfit he wore. The shirt and pants clung to his body like a second skin, shaping every outline and ridge of muscle in his chest, showcasing his strong arms and powerful thighs, and curved perfectly around that glorious ass of his.

“I’m not hurt.”

There was a somewhat playful smile gracing the corner of his mouth, but the Devil was still nestled in his voice. Your lips parted slightly as you stared at him, trying to figure out which version of your boyfriend was sitting in front of you right now.

He slowly tilted his head to the side, most likely picking up on the increase in speed of your heart rate. He still held your face in his palm, staying quiet for a moment as he trailed the pad of his thumb along the entirety of your bottom lip.

“But I wouldn’t have woken you if it wasn’t important.”

“I don’t mind when you wake me up, you know that.”

Whatever remorse might have been swimming around in his conscience disappeared with those words. He loosened his hold on your face, only to let his hand fall slowly down the column of your neck, keeping his fingers loose and his hand open as he placed his palm flat against your sternum. He always gave you an option to say no before he let himself loose.

“Good girl.”

A quiet gasp slipped past your lips, and suddenly you were wide awake. You knew exactly who was sitting in front of you right now, and exactly what he wanted.

“What do you need, D?”

Matt cherished that the two of you knew each other so well, that words weren’t always needed. Sometimes he struggled to find the right ones, but you still knew what he meant anyway. You could read him almost as well as he could read you.

“You, angel. Always you.”

The aroma of your arousal beginning to leak between your thighs had him inhaling deeply, letting out a low growl that went straight to your core. His fingers began to coil around your delicate neck, trying his best to keep the Devil at bay until you granted him the key to unlock his chains.

“Then take me. I’m yours.”

God had never answered a single one of his prayers, but you always did, and you were the one thing the Devil and the man seemed to agree on worshiping.

Although you never voiced it outloud, you sensed that Matt had figured out just how much you enjoyed it when he let the mask of the charming Catholic lawyer slip and showed you the side of himself he usually only reserved for the wicked that lurked in the shadows. Matt was an exceptionally attentive lover, and your needs were always fulfilled, sometimes more than you could handle. But when he let the darker side of him take over…when he gave in completely to the Devil inside him and really lost control…well that’s when you and the Devil both got to have your fun.

Sex with Matt when he was in this headspace was usually hard and rough, not that you minded the slightest. He seemed to be hellbent on testing your limits, and you were more than willing to let him try and break you. You were just as curious as he was to see how far he could push you. It was like there was a relief he was able to find inside you that he couldn’t find out on the streets some nights, and if you were being honest with yourself, you preferred him searching for it within you where at least you knew he was safe.

But something about tonight seemed…different. As soon as you granted him your permission, something inside him flipped, and you could see it flash in his eyes like a comet darting across the sky.

There was nothing gentle about the way he grabbed your hair by the roots, forcing you onto the floor onto your knees as he sat on the edge of your bed, spreading his legs wide enough for you to fit between. He yanked your head back by your hair, causing you to let out a noise of surprise as you stared up at his shadowed features. This was definitely new, and while the way he tugged at your hair stung slightly, it was completely drowned out by the dull ache that had formed between your thighs and the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your own ears.

“You know what to do.”

Matt’s voice was huskier than usual, and it made you shiver despite the heat growing between your thighs. You weren’t sure if tonight had been a bad night, or he was simply testing your limits more than he ever had, but you were more than happy to comply. Your fingers made quick work of tearing open his belt, tugging his pants and briefs down just enough to free his cock. He quickly darted his hand out to grip onto your wrist roughly when you reached for him, making a tsk tsk noise in the back of his throat.

“No hands. Just your mouth.”

Without giving you another second to hesitate, Matt gripped onto the back of your head and guided your mouth to his aching cock, a slight hiss leaving his lips when the warmth of your tongue met the underside of his sensitive head. The saltiness of his precum coveting your taste buds made you moan, and he chuckled darkly above you as he shifted his hips upwards to slip more of himself past your lips.

“Always so eager to take my cock down your throat, aren’t you?”

All you could do was hum in response. You didn’t always get as many opportunities as you’d like to have him in your mouth. Ever the giver, Matt was usually the one with his mouth on you, and you usually had to catch him off guard or wait for him to get like this to get your turn. Sometimes it was so incredibly hard to convince the man he was just as worthy of pleasure, so when given the opportunity, you didn’t waste it.

Matt panted above you, letting out little groans of pleasure which only encouraged you to take him deeper into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks to suck him even harder until drool started to dribble down your chin. He liked it when you got messy, and based off the low growl that ripped through his chest, you knew he could smell just how much of a mess sucking him off was creating between your thighs.

“Shit, you’re pratically dripping onto the fucking floor right now. You like sucking my cock that much? Such a filthy little whore for me, aren’t you? You’d stay on your knees all fucking night if I wanted you too, wouldn’t you?”

Matt clearly wasn’t satisfied with the hum you gave him, because his hand was suddenly around your throat, nearly cutting off your air flow as he pulled your mouth off of him, bending down slightly so that your noses were merely an inch apart.

“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”

“Yes…yes, whatever you want.”

Your voice was hoarse and breathless as it came out, and an absolutely sinful smirk split across Matt’s lips as he cocked his head to the side with a low hum deep within his chest.

“Whatever I want?”

“Yes.”

“Open your mouth.”

Without hesitation, you parted your lips, to which Matt tightened his hold around your throat, causing your eyes to widen as he dropped his voice an octave lower.

“Wider.”

There was a hardness to his voice you had never heard before, and you whimpered as you opened your mouth as wide as you could. Without missing a beat, Matt suddenly spit into your mouth, giving your throat a tight squeeze.

“Swallow.”

Your eyes doubled in size at the act, and you immediately followed his command to his amusement. Matt chuckled darkly again, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he snarled.

“You pathetic little slut.”

Matt suddenly rose to his full height, pulling you up with him as he shoved you onto your bed roughly. He pushed your slip up your hips, ripping your panties clean off to toss behind him as he climbed onto the mattress behind you. Even though you knew he could smell the slick between your thighs, that didn’t stop him from bending down to spit onto your pussy, nudging your legs apart with his knee as he gripped onto your hips and easily slipped his cock within your warm walls.

A loud moan of surprise tore from your throat at the sudden intrusion. Matt usually at least gave you a warning, even when he was like this, but your eyes widened when your hazy brain abruptly realized something.

“Wait-”

A loud slap echoed throughout the room as a harsh sting from his palm came down against your ass, jolting your body forward and causing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“Shut the fuck up, and take it.”

A soft whimper left your lips as you gripped onto your sheets when he started mercilessly pounding into you from behind. It took everything in you to be able to focus enough to get the words out.

“Matt…you’re not…fuck…condom…”

Panic suddenly started to rise within your chest. You weren’t on the pill, and Matt hadn’t slipped on a condom. You knew it because you could feel everything. Every ridge of every single vein, the slope of the head, his entire cock was practically being imprinted within your walls. The heat from Matt’s body was suddenly everywhere as he leaned over you, his fingers coiling around your throat again tightly, his deep voice pouring into your ear as he growled lowly.

“No. You’re fucking mine, you understand? This is my pussy. It belongs to me. I’ll fuck it how I want, when I want. You’re gonna let me fill this tight little cunt up, and you’re gonna take every fucking drop like the good girl you are. And you’re gonna fucking leave it there, so everytime you move, you feel me. You understand?”

You should be concerned. You should be worrying about the implications about what this meant. What if you did get pregnant? What did that mean for you and Matt? Did he really want that? Did you?

But fuck it was so hard to concentrate on anything other than how good it felt to be getting fucked by him like this. Somewhere in your subconscious you decided that if Matt didn’t care, neither did you.

You could faintly hear his words in your ear, but from the way he was restricting your air flow, and the way the head of his cock kept hitting that spongy tissue within you with a vengeance over and over that made you see stars, you couldn’t answer. You felt like you were on the verge of passing out until his warm breath draped over your neck, his words echoing in your ear from somewhere far away.

“That’s it…fucking take it. Take it like I know you can. Fuck…you feel so goddamn good. You’re mine, yeah? C’mon baby, tell me. Tell me you’re mine. What’s the matter baby, huh? I fuck you stupid already? You gonna come on my cock like the pathetic whore you are?”

The headboard on your bed was banging against the wall so loudly, it sounded like it was about to go straight through. Everything in your room seemed to shake, as if there was a high magnitude earthquake happening, and even though it had been nighttime a few minutes ago, suddenly the sun was erupting right before your eyes, blinding you completely. You couldn’t see anything but pure white or hear anything but a faint ringing in your ears, and your body convulsed with an overwhelming sense of pleasure that brought tears to your eyes, every faint touch causing you to jerk away.

The soft lull of a gentle voice in your ears slowly brought you back down as warmth spread throughout your entire body, and you could just barely make out the gentle touch of someone’s palm cradling your face. After a few minutes of trying to catch your breath, you realized it was Matt’s voice whispering softly in your ear.

“C’mon baby, come back to me.”

Your body felt like it was buzzing with pure electricity coursing through your veins, and the slightest shift of his hips had you crying out in overstimulation, futilely trying to crawl away as tears slipped past your waterline. Matt shushed you quietly, allowing the warmth and weight of his body on top of yours to slowly calm you down, pressing soft kisses along your jawline and running his fingers through your hair to soothe you.

“Shh, it’s alright angel. It’s alright, just breathe for me. Are you okay? Was it too much?”

“I…I…don’t know. It’s…just…I don’t-”

“Shh, just relax. Let me hold you. Just feel me, honey. Focus on me. I’ve got you, okay?”

After a few moments of Matt kissing your cheek lovingly and delicately stroking through your hair, all the nerves in your body seemed to relax, and your eyes became heavy with exhaustion. A shiver coursed through you feeling the heat of his release starting to slip down your inner thighs.

“Matty?”

“Yes my love?”

“Stay.”

Matt chuckled softly, carefully detaching his hips from yours, causing you both to wince from the loss of contact. He quickly shed the rest of his clothes before pulling you into the safety of his arms, tugging the covers up around you while pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Where else would I go, hm? You’re here. I wanna be wherever you are, baby.”

“Matty?”

“Yes, angel?”

“We didn’t…you didn’t…what if-”

“Shh, we’ll figure it out in the morning. Go back to sleep, my love.”

“Matty?”

He couldn’t help but smile at the sleepiness in your voice, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as his arms tightened around you.

“What is it, honey?”

“Love you.”

Even as you drifted in and out of consciousness, you could feel Matt’s smile pressed against your cheek.

“Love you more, angel.”

There were a million questions floating around in your head, but exhaustion seemed to fill your blood like lead, and the comfort of Matt’s body heat coaxed you back into a slumber quickly. Whatever questions you had could be answered in the morning. At least right now, you could fall asleep knowing that Matt was safe, and he was with you.

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock smut #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil smut

677 notes · View notes

beefboyandbabygirl · 11 months

Text

Shiver Me Timbers! (18+)

pairing: pirate captain!seungcheol x siren!reader

genre: fantasy au, smut, pure smut with a fair amount of plot imo (MNDI pls), a little angst at the end

description: as seungcheol's ship drags up the shore, you watch from afar, eyes on the prize

warnings: PIRATE DIRTY TALK HELP, SLIGHT DUBCON bc hes u know a little under her spell, unrealistic ass transformation from fish 2 person, desperation, big dumb whiny cheol, bottom!cheol, kinda switch!reader, teasing, tiddie play, tiddie sucking, fairly graphic character death (drowning), seungcheol fucks yn like a ragdoll hihi, hes still bottom here tho, yn just has her tiddies OUT #progressive #2023

quotes from my proofreader: "I WAS WET!!", "he is soooo silly and sexy"

wordcount: 3.0k

“Anchor comin’ down!”

“Aye!”

There’s a mighty splash when the rusty anchor collides with the surface of the water. The chain clinks as it plummets, until it’s kicking up a storm on the sandy seafloor and the ship is safely secured. The Barbaric Seventeen is rocking like a mother rocks her young, gently swinging from the onslaught of waves from the North.

“Another safe map-navigation performed by the great Woozi!” Seungcheol speaks from where he’s perched on the head of the ship, one knee bent to sit his foot atop the wooden railing. He’s half bathed in sunlight, hot from the scorching sun over the endless sea. The shipmates clap and cheer, the odd clunk joining the cacophony from the members with missing hands. “Now go!” he commands, “Go find me my treasure, boys! It shan’t be much of a challenge for ye’s anyway!”

“Ye’s not comin’, Captain?” Mingyu calls from where the lot of them are crowding the planked deck, eyes squinted to stare at his silhouette in the sun. Seungcheol’s hat rustles as he shakes his head. “Naye, brother Mingyu. Today I will guard the Barbaric Seventeen,” he answers and pats the wooden railing like a dog.

The crewmates bugger off, one large group padding along the coast with their hooks and their scars and their swords in their belts.

“Don’t be tempted by pretty ladies out here, brother Jun!” Seokmin advises, gloomily. “There be sirens in these waters!”

“Don’t scare the kid, brother Seokmin,” Wonwoo snaps, standing on the other side of Jun, who looks at the two of them, lost and a little scared. “Sirens aren’t real.”

“Tell that to Jeremy!” Seokmin retorts, “RIP.” And then their voices are fading into the distance.

Seungcheol hardly notices their conversation, as he’s placed himself on a gathering of finely-churned sand, squinting into the sun-lit sea from the shadow of his Captain’s hat. His jacket, much too warm for the every beating rays above, has been discarded beside him, and now his chest peeks through a thin, muddied white shirt. Forever enchanted by the gentle breathing, the rise and fall of the sea, he’s quick to see you.

At first it’s simply a diamond-glisten under the surface of the water - Seungcheol knew the shine of gems, knew the way they reflected and captured the light - he half-sits up, biceps flexing as he peers in. Then, he catches the movement of something long and blue and scaly. The coasting water kisses his bare feet.

You’re smiling in the water, long, flowing hair like seaweed in the ever-turning tides. You’d spotted the ship miles back, and had followed discreetly under it. Now there’s a man alone on the shore, and you’re splashing your tail teasingly above the surface of the water, soft, rhythmic taps, beckoning him closer. Then you open your mouth and begin to sing.

Seungcheol’s stumbling to his knees, crawling on the sand. There’s a beautiful, intoxicating hum coming from the seafloor and he must, he must hear it for himself. Crawling until the water is reaching his chest, you finally strike.

Your head bursts from the water, splashing salty liquid onto the man, who’s gaping at the soft tunes from your ruby lips. You’re pushing your sopping hair back, eyes falling on him, sitting back on his knees now. You giggle, humming gently, when you lean into him. His eyes catch a diamond around your neck - the one he’d seen under the sloping water.

You’re the most beautiful woman - woman? - he’s even seen, and your chest is bare and glistening wet in the sunlight, and your cheeks are red and eyes sly. You’re leaning into him, hand brushing over his sculpted chest, poorly hidden from the soaked shirt, and you smell like the sea - you smell like home.

“Hi there,” you giggle, biting your lip at him. He’s so befuddled by you, he lets out a strangled moan at just the sight of you, before he’s recollecting himself.

“Hi,” he breathes, awestruck. He’s almost cute, you think, hip jutting into the wet sand beneath you. His eyes - unfortunately - sway downwards to your tail, and his eyebrows are furrowing. Wait a minute, he thinks, was this not what Seokmin was just talking about? “What are ye’s?” he asks, because something in his body is oozing fear, filling him like water cascades into a drowning man, and the spell is broken.

For an instant.

You see it immediately, the way the adoration leaves his eyes, and something reminiscent of disgust overtakes him at your fishy parts. Thinking fast, you grab his bigger hand in your own and press it to your chest. “Oh,” he breathes, flushing, and he’s looking at your chest, and the way it expands when you heave a breath to sing for him.

A song flows from your lungs and dances in circles around Seungcheol’s head. He can’t even remember what he was thinking about before, just feels his dick harden in his pants. Dazed and confused, the only thing grounding him is his hand, frozen on your chest and covered by your own. You smile, because he’s opening up to you like the shell of a clam.

“I’m a mermaid, silly. Don’t you want to touch me?” you whisper teasingly, emphasizing by shaking your chest and letting your tits jiggle right in front of him. He whimpers and nods, and you eye the hard-on in his lap, big and stretching the fabric of the pants to their limit. You look around, eyes catching the rock-quarry at the end of the beach, but seeing no one nearby. Then, you clumsily stretch yourself from your heavy, heavy tail, hand fondling him through the fabric. “You gotta pull me up,” you command, voice strained from the movement, and humid breath hitting his lips. He’s hissing and bucking into your hand, unable to comprehend your request.

“What?” he whines, panting and looking at your lips. Your tail is heavy as an anchor when on land, and the position is killing your back, so squeeze his chin between your fingers and grit your teeth at him. “Pull me onto land.”

He’s nodding dumbly and without even an ounce of effort, he grabs you by your waist and pushes the two of you onto dry sand. You’re immediately covered in a salve of small sand particles and moaning, really moaning, because this man is so big and strong, but so dumb, he had no trouble lifting you all the way onto land.

As soon as you’re out of the water, the diamond around your neck is glowing, turning hot against your collarbones, and Seungcheol is groaning, squeezing his eyes shut and holding a hand to shield himself from its intensity.

It stops, he sees the back of his eyelids darken and peeks open one eye, unable to help the little gasp that escapes him. You’re lying on your stomach in front of him and your tail is gone, replaced with soft human legs. Without a thought, he reaches over to touch the skin of your slippery wet new legs. You giggled at his dumbfounded expression, when his hand glides up from your thigh and squeezes your ass.

“You like it?” you chirp, and he chuckles breathlessly. “Aye.”

You push at him, crawling into his lap, all naked and soft and ready for him, hands on his chest, soothing the muscles. “That’s why we needed to be on land, silly.” You smile at him, sitting completely still in his lap, where your pussy is pressed into his crotch, and you’re nonchalantly, he feels foolish for being so beet-faced and nervous. “Well?” you begin, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “take off your clothes, dumbo!”

At your whim, he’s scrambling underneath you, shirt practically ripping, as he tears it off. His chest is so, so pretty - pale and defined and expanding into your hands. You watch him struggle with a fond smile, as you sit completely still on his crotch, even when he’s pulling his pants off. Your weight makes it damn near impossible to shimmy off. He doesn’t dare tell you to move though. Seungcheol feels like the luckiest man in the world, because your pussy is leaking onto his pants. Miraculously, he escapes the garments, and he looks up at you with a proud grin, as if he’d passed some sort of test.

“You did so well,” you coo, hand caressing his cheek and eyes shining in adoration when he nuzzles into your hand. Then your gaze drops. His cock is fucking huge and fucking red and pouring precum from the tip, oozing like blood from wound. “Let me reward you,” you whisper, satisfied when he whines and nods.

You press your thighs into his, hard, so he’s spreading his legs, a sprawled out starfish on a quarry-rock. You see his stomach tense at that, and he’s groaning. “Please, please, please.”

“Y/n. Grab my boobs.”

His hands find your tits immediately at your request, thumbs pressing into the areolas.

“Please, please, please, Y/n!” he’s yelling because it’s torture, and he’s throwing his head back to call out to God. But you’re the mightiest being present, and you push yourself up to teasingly run his cock through your folds, over and over, humming to the melody of your sticky pussy kissing his cock. “Please,” he cries.

“I don’t know,” you hum, rubbing yourself carelessly against his achingly hard cock. “I kind of like just this? Don’t you like this?”

“In, in, in!” he’s sobbing, arms flexing where they’re stretched out to hold your soft mounds, clinging to them for dear life. “Oh,” your voice is laced with fake sympathy, “Oh, you want in?”

“Please,” he gasps. You shrug in compliance, “Okay.”

Finally you pause your grinding, stopping his cock at once when you feel it, the sticky head of it creating tension at your slit. You sink down. Then you stop. The head of his cock is nuzzled in your warmth and you’re flexing your thighs to keep yourself on top of him.

“No, no, no!” he cries, bucking his hips upwards and shaking from the frustration, when your hand pushes his abdomen down. You pout: “I thought this was what you wanted? Are you not in?”

Usually, you can get away with fucking around with men in this manner, but it seems this time you’ve thoroughly miscalculated: In what felt like a split second, Seungcheol sits upright and removes his hands from your chest, anchoring them on your hips and bouncing you.

He’s pushing you down on his cock, and this time you’re the one crying out, utterly taken aback when, with seemingly no effort at all, he lifts your entire body weight and slams you down again.

He’s grunting and panting, completely enchanted by your body and your pretty moans. He grunts at the way your perfect pussy chokes his cock. You’re no better. You’ve lost all control of the situation, slipping into a cockdrunk haze and crying out again and again at the way his tip kisses your cervix.

“Beautiful, such a pretty girl, aye? Squeezin’ me cock so tight,” he grunts, and all you can do is cry, burying your head in the crook of his neck and kissing it feebly. “Mhm, ye better treat me nice next time? Hmm?” His voice is deep and baritone against the shell of your ear.

Your clit is like the x’ed out treasure on one of Seungcheol’s maps, when he snakes his hand down your soft body to rub it in messy circles. “Prettiest moans me ever heard. Say me name, sweetcheeks, say Seungcheol,” he commands and you can only comply, orgasm fizzing in your stomach at his constant onslaught.

“Seungcheol, Seungcheol, Seungcheol!” you chant as you cum, cunt squeezing his cock like you were trying to kill him. The image of your scrunched up, blissed out face and your pussy creaming on his shaft, has he himself cumming inside you, painting your walls with cum, white like seafoam. He’s rutting into you for a few last pumps, and crying into the valley of your breasts. Despite the sun burning into the skin of your back, you’re certain you see stars.

You’re breathing each other in, foreheads pressed together as you recover and smelling the stench of salt and vigor. Seungcheol is still enchanted by you, your beauty, your voice, and he’s trying to capture your lips in a kiss, when you snap your head, almost startled, and peering out to a quarry of rocks at the end of the beach. Seungcheol is still feigning for your lips, thumbs rubbing circles in your waist, when he asks you: “Are ye okay? Ye hear sumthin?”

“No,” you breathed, hesitantly ripping your eyes from the rock. You smile at him, and he leans in and you let him, but only for a peck. You’re pulling away, even when he chases your lips and whines. You giggle, suddenly slipping his dick out of you and laughing even harder when he bends over from the sensitivity.

“Come back, Y/n,” he cries softly and you’re falling standing up in the sand, just in front of the water, beautiful and stark naked and glowing in the sun. “You come to me,” you tease, but without hesitation Seungcheol scrambles to his feet to follow after you. He stops when he’s standing right in front of you again, eyes big and soulful and full of so much love for you. “I’m here,” he announces in a whisper.

“Come with me into the sea, Seungcheol,” you pout and bite your lip at him. “I can’t be here.”

“But-”

“No! It’s not safe up here. I have to go back in the water,” you make big eyes and run a hand up his big, muscular arm. “But you can come with.. My necklace can turn you into a mermaid, too..”

“Really?” he whispers, grabbing your hands and squeezing tight, simply overjoyed. He’s too dazed from his orgasm to realize what you’re asking him to leave behind. All he wants is you. You intertwine your fingers with his.

“Yeah,” you take a step back into the white foaming water, and once again your necklace begins glowing, so intense that Seungcheol once more has to close his eyes.

When they open again you’re lying in the water, still mostly out of it, and your bottom half is gone, replaced by the glittering scaly tail he saw before. You were so plump, so pretty, the way your tits bunched up in the sand.

“Help me, Seungcheol, push me into the water again,” you request weakly, arms flexing as you try to unstuck yourself from the sand that grabs at your heavy tail. “When will you turn me into a mermaid?” he asks innocently, leaning down to help drag you, still stark naked and pale body glowing in the sun. “Just- just when I’m back in the water,” you mewl, strained.

When you stop feeling the seafloor drag against your sensitive tail, you tug Seungcheol to you harshly. He falls next to you, panicked. “H-Hey!”

He’s only gone under the surface for a moment, before he bops his head over the water, black hair sticking to his forehead. Spitting out the salty liquid, pouting. “That was mean,” he complains, treading in the shallow water. You giggle, thriving in the cool slick of the sea, having missed the way the water hugs you, how it caresses and kisses and loves. That was why you needed to pay it back.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you pout. “C’mere. Let me make it up to you.”

Seungcheol paddles himself into you and you hold him into your chest, his nose and eyelashes prodding softly at your skin. You sigh when he begins licking at the smooth skin, hands pawing your waist.

“It’s such a shame,” you frown, looking at how pretty he is, as his plump, pink lips mouth at your nipple, lashes long and pretty over his downturned eyes. He hums questioningly, not stopping his ministrations on your chest. One moment you’re gently pulling the wetted dark locks behind his ear; the next you’re fastening your arms around him, and kicking your tail.

You’re underwater. Seungcheol flinches at the initial movement, then begins thrashing in your arms, when he registers that you’re underwater. You’re ignoring how painful, how strong his hands are when he punches and wriggles in your hold, only swimming deeper, deeper, deeper. The sunlight above, fragmented from the waves surface of the water becomes sparser.

He’s even paler in the dark. You see him perfectly clear, tugging and kicking. Maybe there’s even a small hope in his chest - a hope, that this is just a little joke, and that just a moment from now, you’ll grab him by the hand and pull him back to the surface. That moment doesn’t come. Everytime he tries to push himself up, your hand is there to keep him down.

It feels like forever, and it’s more painful than any other time you’ve done it. He’s humming groans from the lack of air and when he finally gives out to gasp for air, he chokes out the most haunting noise you’ve ever heard, bubbles trailing up from his newly-dead corpse. Finally he’s still against your chest. You pull him away with a deep frown and see his face, fully relaxed now and drained of color. You hold onto him by his shoulders, hoping to memorize his face, hoping to remember him.

Then you’re releasing him and he floats downwards, hair dragging upwards, almost as if reaching for you.

He’s just another rock in the sand, you try to tell yourself, as his body is cast away to the deepest, darkest quarters of the ocean. But it doesn’t feel that way. As you swim away, humming your siren song and reverberating in the dark, bottomless depths, you can’t help but feel that this time, your victim was not just a sandcorn; he was a bright, shining pearl.

#seungcheol x reader #s.coups x reader #scoups x reader #svt seungcheol x reader #svt scoups x reader #seungcheol smut #s.coups smut #scoups smut #svt smut #svt x reader #svt x reader smut

685 notes · View notes

sky-kiss · 7 months

Note

Hi there, it's me, your girl, knocking on your door and asking for a tiny fic if you take to this prompt 😊

Strip poker. Lmao no. But maybe. It'd just be Tav getting naked as they lose horribly to him.

Okay actual prompt, sorry. I love possessive Raphael, it shivers me timbers.

What if after he successfully gets the Crown with Tav's help. And Tav thinks they're done forever, and is sad about it during their hurrah meal (THAT HE PROMISED US BUT WE DIDNT GET IN GAME?), but Raphael is very much not done with Tav yet. But plays them along a little, delighting in how attached they seem to be to him.

But also, feel free to do the strip poker adjacent if that appeals more. 😉 Thank you my dear!

________

A/N: I’m going to be super honest, babe. I almost did the strip poker prompt.

________

“This, my dear, to a most successful partnership.” Raphael held up his glass, a beautiful crystal flute that seemed to catch the firelight; held it. Tav didn’t want to guess how rare it was, or how much it cost. Raphael seemed inclined to excess; the meal he’d promised so many moons prior reflected those beliefs. The first wine he’d served was centuries old; the second was even older. The gown he’d left provided, perfectly tailored, was set with enough jewels to sustain a small kingdom.

Tav smiled at his toast but could not find it in herself to respond. As fine as the night had been, it held a note of finality that sat heavy on her heart. It was the bow on his victory and his crown. After this, they’d go their separate ways.

It was objectively the correct course of action. Dealing with a devil of any sort was ill-advised; dealing with one so intimately bordered on suicide.

Raphael smirked at her, cocking his head to the side. The firelight caught him in profile, sharpening already fine features, casting his eyes in deeper shadows. He leaned forward. “My, has the cat finally caught your tongue? Here? At the end of all things?”

“Not in the least. Only tired.”

“I could send you back…”

“No!” The answer was far too quick. The devil arched a brow, smiling with teeth. He folded his hands in front of him, long fingers interlaced. Tav tried not to fixate on them, or the way his thumb shifted, stroking some invisible line across his wrist. “No, that isn’t necessary. It’s only…I supposed a part of me didn’t expect things to end so soon.”

“But it’s been months, my sweet. Are you not tired of the road? The violence?” Lower, a note of teasing crept into his voice. “My company?” Tav huffed. The adventurer sipped her wine to stop her immediate reply. The one the devil undoubtedly wanted. His eyes, bright as hellfire, glowed. “It should grieve me to leave you wanting, little mouse. You need only say that word and…” he snapped his fingers. The candles leaped with new liveliness before fading to a more intimate level. “We might find some new way to occupy our time.”

“You have hells to conquer.”

“And what is a conquest without dear friends?” He chuckled, and Tav fought the urge to shiver. The fireplace was far too large for the banquet hall. Avernus was naturally hot. The air in her lungs felt stagnant and overheated. “Admit it. You're curious. What will Raphael accomplish?”

“I don’t doubt you if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Never. I would not dream of slandering my talents or your good sense, pet.” He extended his hand, palm up. “But I would never force my suit. You are, as ever, entirely free to make your own choices.”

Tav pursed her lips. The little alarm in the back of her head was screaming. Run, it said, get far from here and far from him. She’d never been good at listening to those notes of reason. Raphael must have seen it too. The devil smirked, the right corner of his lips curling back to highlight the point of his fangs. “I wouldn’t…see us part ways. Not yet.”

“Mmm. And why not? Indulge this…inquiring mind.”

She sighed, shrugging. “Because I’m…fond of you, devil.”

“Good girl, honesty is always the best policy.” Gods, but he looked insufferably pleased with himself. Raphael leaned back, resting his chin in his palm. He drummed his fingers against his cheek. “It would be dangerous for you to stay, of course, and I could never endanger one so dear to me. Unless…” he let the sentence hang between them, full of potential and thoroughly premeditated. Tav could feel the noose tightening, the hooks he’d set in her flesh from their first meeting tugging at her soul. “A patron makes all the difference in the hells. Were you to swear yourself to me, you might remain.”

She laughed. “Is that all? Just put myself in your hands?”

“My hands, my lap, my bed.” His smirk took on a particularly feline quality. “Don’t look so surprised, pet. I kept the Emperor out of that lovely head. Did you think I hadn’t seen what was in it?”

He made a vague gesture with his left hand, and those lurid imaginings came forward. The dreams that had chased Tav into an uneasy sleep for months: his touch smoothing over her hips. His mouth on her breasts. Touching, and teasing, and…

“Enough.” She swallowed, head spinning. “You’ve made your point.”

“Swear you are mine, devote yourself to me, and I will give all your imaginings form. What is one mortal life compared to pleasure eternal?” He held out his hand again.

And Tav took it.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #my fic #asks #tav is drinking idiot juice bless their heart

309 notes · View notes

intothekuni · 4 months

Text

— then teach me

14 : feelings

after you typed that comment, you looked up to see scaramouche annoyed and fuming.

"something wrong?" you asked.

"look at childe's car," he responded.

you looked over and saw columbina making weird faces towards scaramouche. while you smiled, you felt eyes on you. the chatter from the back seat didn't stop but you felt some tension between you and the man you were gaining feelings for next to you.

"hm?" you looked up with confusion.

"um, is it alright if i uh, hold your hand?" he asked bashfully.

suddenly all conversation at the back stopped.

"sure" you responded, extending my hand to interlock with his.

"i ship not gonna lie" lyney suddenly screamed.

"shut the fuck up or i'm switching you with kazuha." scaramouche says, stopping at the red light.

"shiver me timbers."

"absolutely not, y/n, please text kazuha to switch with lyney, i'm gonna lose my shit"

"okay!!" you responded, taking out your phone.

when kazuha got into the car, he was greeted with the silence between the two of you and arlecchino trying not to lose her shit.

"what exactly happened here?" kazuha asked, slightly confused until his eyes trailed down to the conjoined hands, "oh good job scara"

"thank you," he quietly responds, before starting to drive again.

while kazuha was starting a quiet and simple conversation with arlecchino, you feel scara run his thumb over yours. you turned to look away in slight embarrassment as the song was playing "Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince" by taylor swift. in order to ease the unspoken tension between the both of you, you tapped his thumb once and asked loud enough for only him to hear.

"what do you usually listen to?" you asked meekly, slightly embarrassed and flustered from the amount of skinship that was currently happening.

"arctic monkeys, cigarettes after sex, uh chase atlantic, can't think of anymore right now." he responds continuing to look at the road.

"thought you might listen to rap and only rap"

"do you think that low of me?? i don't walk around with headphones in all the time either"

"tartaglia says you play arctic monkeys on full blast sometimes"

"that little shit."

"he also said you play the electric guitar, that's quite cool."

"thank you, i play acoustic sometimes too,"

"really?? by chance would you play for me?"

you watched as scaramouche stopped at another red light and his face flushes with a light shade of pink.

"if you want," he says looking at you

"really?? thank you!!"

scaramouche's pov

scaramouche watched as your eyes shined every time you talked about something you liked or if you got the answer you wanted. you're such a pretty person, thinking about it makes him want to throw up. although kazuha told him to give it a shot, he thinks you're too good for him. he thinks you're an angel.

the way you walk, how clumsy you are all the time, the way you eat all the food you hated first before savoring the food you liked, the way you batted your eyelashes, the way you look so concentrated when you take notes that makes you look so cute. it's all so ethereal to him. it makes him feel like a whole swarm of butterflies have been set free from their cage. it feels so pathetic. what is hap-

"scara, the light's green, are you okay? we can go after we drop them off if you want."

the way you looked at him made him want to fold and scream.

"shit sorry, i zoned out. its alright." he responded, pressing the gas.

this is it, he thinks. i'll confess today.

prev | masterlist | next

a/n : hihi! happy late new year~ wishing you great health and hope you get everything you want! stay safe everyone 🩷

taglist : @veekoko @alhaitie @featuredtofu @sakiimeo @neigesprincess @keiiqq @feiherp @tiredslepz @rosieyama @bananasquash @nnasv @mayuumine @kiokiee @beriiov @zukaaa @scaraandxiaoo @brain-r0tt @deepdinosaurwizard @bakugoumei-12

bolded + red = can't tag

112 notes · View notes

bomber-grl · 7 months

Text

Hiro Hamada + Artist reader

Pairing(s): Hiro Hamada x Gn!reader (no pronouns used)

He definitely asks you to draw him

Mostly to just get on your nerves but still-

He’d still want you to draw him even if it’s mostly all jokes and stuff

And if ur here reading this then ur most likely the artist of the family )

I see u

Anyway, he loves all your drawings

He’s always complimenting them and stuff

And if you’re into painting and stuff then he loves it even more

Honestly I kinda hc him as an artist too

And not like a young art prodigy way

But in a cringe 2012 tumblr art way

Just cuz he’s smart doesn’t mean he’s good at art 😭)

He mostly just draws mecha suits and his projects and stuff

He also just draws u and him with that one anime art style everyone had in the beginning of their art journey

Beautiful 😍/s

He always leaves these drawings in ur backpack/bag man

U just wanna open up ur binder or notebook? Well jumpscare cuz of the whiplash those horrendous ass drawing broski be making.

Most cursed thing ever…

U can never escape

Anyway

Going back to him wanting to be drawn

U do draw him at some point, just not w much effort

Atleast that’s the one you actually give him

And he put it in his phone case to display it😍

True romance guys

Anyway, he ended up finding out you actually draw him /srs and not /j

And bc he’s super nosey once he sees ur sketchbook he just open that shi up

So when he skips through a few pages

Low and behold those beautiful ass masterpieces

Either that or u unknowingly accidentally left a drawing of hiro behind and cass saw them

She was so proud and impressed by u that she showed hiro

Regardless of either scenario,

Hiro never thought he could be perceived as good looking but he’s not complainin

Then here comes living hell

He gets a huge ass ego and starts teasing u

Stops cuz u started ignoring him 😭

Eventually apologizes but only agrees to fully drop it if u give him one of those scrumptious drawings of him

He’s so annoying 😤(cute 🤭)

Eventually tries to casually bring it up but when u press behind his and knees and trip him randomly he knows to drop it

Embarrassing 🤭

But yea pookie bear loves your drawings

Real message sent to you by hiro, said in the third person)

Extra - def the type to draw cursed drawings of him as super buff or sum carrying u or vise versa w u as super buff and him all kawaii and shi

Timbers and shivered ✅

———————————————————————————

A/n: hope you liked :))

#gn reader #female reader #male reader #hiro hamada #big hero six #big hero 6 #bh6 #bh6 x reader #bh6 fanfiction #bh6 hiro #bh6 fandom #hiro bh6 #hiro x reader #hiro hamada x reader #bh6 the series #gn!reader

221 notes · View notes

transmascaraa · 3 months

Text

♡!200 followers special!♡

"A valentine's dance."

bf!gaming x gn!reader

author's note: this is basically the longer version of the gaming hcs in my last post aka the valentine's day special ALSO 2nd time ever writing a fanfic shiver me timbers😰 i hope it okay btw i'll draw my (genshin or whatever )oc/self-insert tonight cuz i have school in 2 hours and i have a bit of homework left lol

"thank you, lion dance boy."

You and your boyfriend, Gaming, have been dating for a few months now. He loved you very dearly, just as you loved him. You were an inseparable couple, like you were glued to eachother. But, the relationship that you had was healthy, and really sweet. People talked about your closeness to other people, in the streets. You've overhead them quite a few times now. You were a famous couple in Liyue.

A really special date was approaching. The 14th of February, Valentine's day. A day to show your loved one how much you love them, to give them a gift. It was a heartwarming "holiday", for most. Not everyone, but most. And as soon at it sttarted approaching, the streets were bustling with the names of you and Gaming.

Gaming, he planned a dance show for that day, that night. He invited everyone from Liyue, and even other nations! As promised, he would amaze them and make them smile. But that wasn't all that much important to him. You were.

The whole dance show was actually just made so he could give you a rose in a more romantic and surprising way. Yes, it was a surprise. He didn't mention Valentine's day to you for the whole day, but that night...

When it finally came, that night, you started getting ready. Putting on your best outfit, ready to be looked at and praised by everyone. Was it the outfit, or the whole night? Nobody knows. The outfit was one of Gaming's favorite ones for you to wear. Whenever you wore it, he ended up staring at you too much and blushing more than usual. It was interesting, really. How can such a simple outfit make a man's heart go crazy? Make his blood rush to his face, his cheeks? The human body and mind is really impressive.

As soon as you were done getting ready, you got your bag and went out the door. Going to see your precious boyfriend perform on such a special day.

When you got there, everyone had surprised looks on their faces, but positive ones. They got out of the way, and let you stand in the first row out of the thousands of people in the crowd. Like I said, the two of you were really famous there.

Then, music started playing, the crowd went silent. The lights went out. Rose petals started falling out of nowhere from the sky, making it much more beautiful to look at.

Soon, 3 different lights were on the stage. 3

The 2 of them started dancing. They were dancers. Lion dancers.

It was nice seeing them dance, so many moves and talent. It was worth seeing it.

Eventually they stopped, and the third dancer started dancing. He was Gaming, recognizable even in the night. Flawlessly dancing and moving across the stage, everyone was amazed.

A few minutes passed, and the lights turned on again. The 3 dancers bowing down.

"Happy Valentine's day everyone! Here's a rose to a special person in the crowd!" He threw a beautiful red rose to the crowd, and coincidentally, it landed right in your hands.

Smiling, you spoke, "Thank you, Gaming!" and the performance ended there.

After there were only you and Gaming left there, you read a note that was connected to the rose by a beautiful orange string.

"Happy Valentine's day, [name]!" and just as you read it, Gaming said it himself.

"Thank you again, lion dance boy. I loved the performance."

"You're welcome, it was dedicated to you alone. I'm glad you liked it."

~~~~~

YIPPIEEEE I REALLY LIKE IT

i'm not good at fanfics imo but ig i like this one

adorable gaming frfr

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #gaming x reader #gaming x you #gaming #genshin impact gaming #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #gaming x gn reader #gaming x gender neutral reader #⑅⁠čikonyxo's post🎭

86 notes · View notes

mhsdatgo · 1 month

Note

Alicent crowing aegon exposing her children to more risk than just letting rhaenyra became queen. Rhaenyra wanted that throne, there is no way she would have accepted those "terms", and alicent is 100% aware of this in the book and in the show as well. By crowning aegon she start a war and put her children DIRECTLY on the battlefield against people who were more experienced in war like daemon or ride dragon longer like rhaenyra and rhaenys amd consequently may control their dragon better. If you didn't want to consider a crash between two or more dragons, even if they were on a dragon against an army the danger is very high, look at rhaenys the conqueror or aemon the first son of jaehaerys, they were on dragon's back and yet both of them were killed by arrow. Not to mention that both in the book and in the show alicent spend years creating animosity with rhaenyra, If you TRULY believe that someone may hurt your children you do everything you can to maintain at least a civil relationship, and not constantly provoke them and then cry about how your children may be hurt by your stupidity. Because that what alicent has done in the book starting hating rhaenyra, pray viserys to name Aegon as heir and constantly share gossip to damage rhaenyra's image (with a 10 years old girl, meanwhile Alicent was a GROWN woman), and in the show the situation is not different. The truth is that alicent’s action were based on her own ambitious in the book and on her resentment to rhaenyra in the show, but NEVER in the interest of her children. In fact aegon never wanted to be king, he was forced by her and has to endure all the consequences while watching all of his family die

Ladies and gentlemen, here we have someone who quite literally didn't get a single thing about Fire and Blood.

See, anons like these are what makes my blood boil at the writers of HotD for making Rhaenyra appear like a saint which not only made most of the decisions she'll take from this moment onward out of (show) character (as far as character building and development goes) but also fucking boring.

I'm always one to listen to different points of view and interpretations of books as complicated as these, but something that has always bugged me is the way this fandom CANNOT DIGEST the type of tragedy that is just inevitable.

It was never about picking sides, it was never about sexism, it was always about kin torn apart by kin and their own flaws dragging them down. There was no way to ever avoid that and I cannot have a proper discussion about F&B with anyone who doesn't understand this first.

Moreover, just what do you think Alicent should've done? Shut up, be quiet, sit still and look pretty while Daemon's spies turned her children into bloody shreds? Allow them to be assassinated because of the threat they pose to Rhaenyra's claim? Does everything revolve around her? Is she some kind of Twilight Sparkle?

Let me tell you this: no woman would willingly step back and leave their children to their own devices when their own lives pose a threat to someone else's interests.

I have respect for Rhaenyra and her will to fight for what she believed was her birthright (although let's be honest, it was a feeling born out of nothing but the entitlement of a spoiled brat, it turned into a war of parents after one of each faction's children was killed) but I also have so much more respect for Alicent and her courage to bare teeth and claws and plan a coup to be allowed the upper hand and more possibilities of looking after her children if one of them is ruling. It's not "stupidity" it's awareness. And acting according to it.

It's true that Alicent has her own ambitions, but to say that they started growing in her when she was nothing but an 18 year old girl marrying a 30 year old man... Do you hear yourself? That's a girl getting graduated from high school. Oh shiver me timbers, we're scared of young adults here.

Everyone likes and loves and adores to talk about the way ALICENT was having beef with Rhaenyra as a 10 year old but nevermind Rhaenyra placing a bounty on two toddlers and one of them getting ripped apart because of it. Nevermind her refusing that bastard Corlys' advice to take Daeron as a hostage and demanding that he be killed instead. (Because this bitch was the #1 threat to her rule, but y'all aren't ready for that conversation)

She never "prayed" for Aegon to be named as heir, what she DID pray for was for him and Rhaenyra to be betrothed to one another. I hate Rhaegon personally, (no hate to any Rhaegon stan that reads this ♥️) but honestly this is the only marriage that could've MAYBE prevented the Dance. It started because there were two claimants to the throne. Just marry them to each other and the issue was solved. Both of them get crowned, no Dance, peace.

But noooooo, Viserys, the incompetent twat, as always had to act like an incompetent twat and be like "lol but they don't get along". IT WAS HIM WHO DOOMED HIS CHILDREN, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF HIS SONS AND DAUGHTERS. ALL. OF. THEM.

Everyone else acted as a consequence to the cluterfuck that the sick old man created. Namely, chaos. What else did you expect?

#hotd #house of the dragon #pro alicent hightower #pro team green #anti rhaenyra stans #anti team black #anti viserys i targaryen

110 notes · View notes

defectivevillain · 1 year

Text

took an axe and amended things

pairing: kratos x reader

reader’s pronouns: he/him

[reader with they/them pronouns here!]

warnings: canon typical violence, blood and injury

You’re venturing out in the forest when you come across a rather unusual sight: a young boy standing across from several Draugr. You initially think that your eyes are deceiving you. Even so, you move closer and realize that the kid seems to be in trouble. His only weapon is a bow and arrow; unfortunately, there are too many Draugr for the distance weapon to be of much use. You contemplate walking away for a long moment. Ultimately, you decide that you can’t leave him.

You take a deep breath and pull out your sword, lunging at the creatures closest to you. You manage to cut through a few of them. You’re preoccupied for a few moments, which causes you to lose focus and forget the boy. This mistake nearly costs you, as the kid lets out a chilling shriek. You immediately race over to him, shoving him aside. The Draugr that had been descending upon him lets out a strangled noise and plunges a clawed hand into your abdomen before you can react. A sharp burst of pain shoots through you and you quickly finish off the creature, before turning back to look at the boy. He looks mostly fine, save for a few scratches and scrapes. The kid stares at you with wide eyes, looking around for more Draugr before walking up to you.

“Thanks,” the boy says breathlessly, sending you a warm smile. The happiness quickly fades from his face when he sees the wound tearing through your abdomen. You try to muster up a calm expression, but it doesn’t seem to work very well. “Oh no…” The kid grimaces for a moment.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, stumbling forward as you try to take a step. Quick as lightning, the boy is standing at your side and steadying you. You can’t help but lean on him, despite knowing he’s a child who probably won’t be able to withstand your weight. Against all odds, though, the boy seems strong enough to support you. Before you can apologize and try to walk away, he slings your arm around his shoulder. The hand you’re pressing to your abdomen is slowly turning a dark crimson. The boy begins to walk forward and you have no choice but to clumsily follow.

“Our house is around here,” he remarks, leading you onwards. Your vision is blurring by the second, but you can make out a structure that looks like a house in the distance. Unfortunately, that distance seems rather large in your current condition. “Just hold on.”

The walk is long and painful. The cold air makes your chest burn and the wound on your abdomen isn’t getting better. You’re losing strength and gradually becoming dead weight for the kid to support. You idly wonder—through the painful haze you’re stuck in—what he’s doing out here by himself. Then again, he said our house, didn’t he? The boy evidently lives with someone else. Even so, should he have been all alone in the forest in the first place? You don’t think so.

Your thought process surrounding the boy only lasts a few moments, before it takes a backseat to the immense pain ripping through your body. Shadows creep across the corners of your vision. You stop in your tracks, grinding your heels into the snow to stop the boy from leading you onwards. Vertigo is hitting you out of nowhere, to the point where the ground seems to be spinning under your feet. You weakly grasp at the boy’s shoulder, but you can’t keep yourself standing. Before long, you’re crumpling to the ground. The kid lets out an exclamation and the world fades to a dizzying black.

You seem to waver between unconsciousness and wakefulness. There’s a loud thunk that breaks you out of your slumber, but you keep your eyes closed in the hopes that you’ll find rest again. Amidst the darkness, you can catch traces of conversation between the boy from earlier and another person.

“Boy, what did I tell you about strangers?” The voice you hear is deep and timbered; it sends a shiver down your spine.

“I know, Father, but-”

“A childish mistake. The moment you let your guard down to someone, they will swiftly destroy you.”

You eventually abandon the notion of rest and open your eyes to find yourself in a dimly lit room. Wooden beams stretch across the ceiling; the torches hanging from them are the only source of light. For several seconds, you remain still and stare up at the ceiling. Your balance feels lopsided, despite the fact that you’re reclined on the floor. Before you can even begin to push yourself up, there’s a quick glint of metal as an axe presses up against your throat. You look up to find a huge man towering over you. He wears a stiff shoulder guard, leather forearm wraps, and a belt across his waist. His eyes are steely and there’s a malicious aura radiating off of him.

“Get out of my home,” the man orders, pressing the axe further against your neck. You can’t stop the hiss that crawls from your throat when the metal digs into your skin. “Now.” There’s nothing but hatred in the man’s brown eyes. You swallow hard and try to push yourself up to a sitting position, while avoiding the axe at your throat. The slight movement hurts far more than you expect and you let out a strangled breath.

“No!” The boy from earlier exclaims. You glance to your side, only to find him sitting next to you. He places a hand on your shoulder and you realize that his grip is surprisingly strong. Now that the boy is closer, you’re able to see that he has clear blue eyes. He’s even smaller up close. Just how old is this boy? You’re not sure you want to know. “He needs rest.” You raise an eyebrow at the unexpected defense.

The man holding the axe glares at the boy, who stares right back. Admittedly, you’re impressed with the kid’s fearlessness—especially in the face of this brute in front of you, who’s holding a rather dangerous-looking axe. “Atreus.”

“Father, he saved me,” the boy—Atreus—interjects. At this, the man stills. His gaze falls to his son for a fraction of a moment, before he returns to glaring at you menacingly. “I was surrounded.” He continues. Your head is swimming and takes an immense amount of effort to focus on what he’s saying. “I tried to fight, but I was outnumbered… A Draugr got close and was about to strike me. This one was a lot faster than Draugr usually are, and I reacted too late… He pushed me out of the way and took the blow.”

The massive man is still staring at you with a scrutinizing gaze, evidently trying to find the fault in his son’s story. You grimace, half in pain and half in intense discomfort. For a few moments, there is nothing but silence. Then, the axe at your throat falls to the man’s side. You push yourself up to a sitting position and take a deep breath. Unfortunately, the conversation doesn’t seem to be over, as the man’s axe is still in hand.

“Why did you save him?” The axe isn’t pressed up directly against your skin any longer, but it still hovers menacingly above your neck.

“He’s just a boy,” you murmur, struggling to make sense of your thoughts. “I don’t know; I didn’t really have time to think about it. It just… happened.” The man’s eye contact is intense, so much so that you have to avert your gaze after a few seconds. Whatever this man is looking for, he seems to find it in your expression.

“He can stay until he heals,” the man says, hardly sparing you a glance before turning to his son, “You will supervise him.” Atreus nods and immediately turns back to you. His father glares at you one more time, before turning his back and walking to one of the other rooms. You stare after him in disbelief.

“Sorry about Father,” Atreus sighs, drawing your attention back to him. He seems to be making some sort of ointment to apply to your wound. “He doesn’t like people very much.” You shake your head, trying to reassure the boy that it isn’t his fault and that you don’t mind. You are a stranger in their home, after all. “This is going to hurt.” Atreus presses the ointment to your abdomen and you inhale sharply. It burns for a few seconds, before cooling pleasantly.

Feeling a sudden heat, you look up to find Atreus’s father lurking a short distance away. He looms next to a wall, hiding him from his son’s view. The man crosses his arms over his chest and stares at you with a strange expression—which morphs into a murderous look once he realizes that you’re staring back.

“What’s wrong?” The boy asks from his place at your side. He’s looking at you expectantly and you tear your gaze away from his father, who slinks off into another area of the house and out of sight. You bite your lip. Despite Atreus’s curiosity, you can’t bring yourself to betray his father’s actions.

“Nothing.” You say with a shake of your head. Atreus finishes preparing the bandages and begins to wrap them around your abdomen. The boy’s bandaging seems to be a bit clumsy, but you can’t bear to feel anything but grateful for his help—especially when he stood up to his father for you. “Thanks for healing me.” You decide to voice your gratitude.

“It’s my fault you got hurt in the first place.” Atreus murmurs, just quietly enough that it takes you a moment to realize you didn’t imagine the remark. You try to argue, but the boy has finished your bandages and he’s already walking away before you can entirely comprehend the statement. As much as you want to go after him, you’re essentially bound to the floor—your injuries are too grave for you to even try moving.

You fall asleep for a bit, until you’re woken by the eerie feeling of someone watching you. You dazedly blink your eyes open, only to have a mini heart attack when you see Atreus’s father looming over you. Is he here to kill you, now that Atreus isn’t present? You don’t get much time to wonder, before the man is speaking.

“That boy…” You can hardly let out a protest before his father gets down on one knee and tugs at your bandages. You let out a weak protest, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. He instead pulls off the bandages with an almost mechanical precision.

“I don’t even know your name, yet,” you joke weakly, trying to distract yourself from his proximity and the pain flaring up in your abdomen. As expected, the joke doesn’t register with the man. He looks annoyed at the mere suggestion.

“You have no need for it.” You stare at him. Your disbelief and mild irritation must show on your face, because the man looks back down at the bandages and steadily refuses to meet your eyes. For someone so intimidating, this guy seems to be almost… timid. Perhaps he’s just unaccustomed to social interaction. That would make a lot of sense, actually. His house is in the middle of the woods, deep enough that he likely doesn’t encounter many people. “Kratos.”

You raise an eyebrow and tell him your name, although you suspect that he doesn’t care what your name is. Sure enough, the man doesn’t even acknowledge your remark. His rather large hands are fiddling with the roll of bandages, and you’re almost tempted to help him out. You reach out, only for him to meet your eyes once more.

“If it weren’t for the boy…” The man’s eyes darken. He looks down to wrap the bandages around you. He tightens them a bit too fiercely, causing you to suck in a startled breath. Kratos looks up when he’s finished and levels you with a menacing glare. “I’d kill you where you stand.”

You gulp. His hands brush your skin for the briefest of moments, sending a wave of heat down your spine. It’s hard to focus when Kratos is so close to you. Thankfully, once he’s finished with the bandages, he gets to his feet and stares at you.

“For whatever reason, the boy has developed a liking for you,” Kratos states flatly. There’s an unconvinced look on his face, as if he can’t comprehend why his son even mildly tolerates you. You feel a little offended at that—are you really so insufferable to be around? “I expect you out of here the moment you’re fully healed.”

“Alright, thanks,” you answer, having half-expected a remark along those lines. The two of you are then locked in a pseudo-staring contest—as if you’re sizing each other up—for a few seconds before Kratos turns his back and walks away.

As you rest, your conversation with Kratos dominates your thoughts. Unfortunately, you don’t have much else to think about—your healing isn’t going as fast as you’d like. Time seems to drag on, especially when all you do is sleep or eat small meals. You’re amazed you’ve been given any food at all; although, you then realize that Atreus is likely hunting for you.

“I’m not who Father thinks I am,” Atreus remarks one morning, as he’s changing your bandages. He noticed his father’s adjustments and since then, he’s been fairly high strung. You remain silent and let him continue. “I’m strong, I’m smart. I’m capable.”

“You are,” you agree, happy to see the pink flush on the boy’s cheeks at the acknowledgement. Unfortunately, Atreus’s bashfulness doesn’t last long, as his eyebrows furrow and his lips twist into a scowl.

“Then why doesn’t he see that?” Atreus exclaims. You put a finger to your lips to get him to lower his voice, but the boy doesn’t seem to notice the gesture. “I don’t understand! He always leaves, he never talks to me or teaches me. He doesn’t even want me!” The boy’s voice cracks and your heart breaks just a little more.

“Atreus…” You bite your lip, feeling an overwhelming sympathy overtake you. You feel like you’re listening in on something you shouldn’t, despite Atreus’s voluntary disclosure of information. “I don’t know your father, but I know that you’re wrong. He does want you; he loves you.”

“How can you be so sure?” Atreus whispers. He sounds so unsure that you feel your eyes begin to burn. Is his father’s approval really so foreign to him? It doesn’t take you long to choose what to say next.

“Because I’m still here,” you answer. You hadn’t intended to tell Atreus about his father’s threats, but now, you think they’ll serve as evidence to your claims. “He’s keeping me here because you asked him to. If you hadn’t, I’d be dead right now.”

“That’s not true,” Atreus fires back.

“He told me as much,” you admit. Atreus’s lips part and he stares at you in disbelief. You take a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking again. “Anyway. Your father doesn’t seem like the type to use his words, but… his actions couldn’t be more transparent.” Atreus is silent at that. You frown, wishing there were some way to convince him. An idea passes through your mind and you decide to speak your thoughts. “I know I’m not your father, but-” you break off, “I am proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Atreus huffs, his ears turning red. You give in to the urge to ruffle his hair and he scowls dramatically, turning his attention to your bandages. You allow him to escape the conversation and the two of you soon change topics and talk about innocuous things. Eventually, Atreus leaves to hunt and you’re alone again.

You find yourself alone in the house rather frequently. You can’t bring yourself to be irritated with it—after all, you’re pretty much an uninvited house guest. Furthermore, it appears as if your wound is healing rather well… It should take only a few more days of rest before you’re ready to go home. A small part of you wonders if this cabin could be your home, if this father and son could be your family. You quickly disregard the concept.

Somehow, you manage to heal faster than you expect. Within a few days, you’re up and walking again. Almost the moment that you realize you can walk, you head towards the door. Kratos’s threats from earlier are living in your mind. I expect you out of here the moment you’re fully healed. You press your palm flat against the door and push, only for a voice to interrupt your thoughts.

“Where are you going?” You turn around, dread coiling in your chest as you find Kratos standing in the space you had previously occupied. He’s regarding you with wariness and skepticism. You frown at that, unable to dissuade your own confusion.

“Um… home?” If it weren’t for the boy, I’d kill you where you stand. You gulp. You had hoped to avoid an awkward confrontation—or even a fight— by slipping out of the house undetected. That was wishful thinking, apparently. For the next few moments, you’re frozen in the doorway as Kratos stares at you with a scrutinizing gaze. His arms are crossed over his chest and there’s nothing but frustration written in the lines of his tense shoulders.

“The boy likes you,” Kratos eventually says, breaking through the strained silence. Tension settles in the air. You’re admittedly not fully recovered, and your balance is a bit testy. You place a hand on the wall in a casual gesture, pretending that you don’t need the stability. Kratos seems to recognize what you’re doing regardless, as he reaches out. You resist the urge to flinch. His hand rests on your shoulder and there’s a strange look on his face. “Stay.”

You stay—not that your decision has anything to do with the relieved expression on Kratos’s face when you step away from the front door. That doesn’t run through your mind at all. You make your way past Kratos and sit down on the floor once more.

When Atreus returns home that day, he launches himself at you and hugs you before you can object. You smile and wrap your arms around him in return. The boy doesn’t seem keen to let you go any time soon. You look over Atreus’s shoulder, only to accidentally lock eyes with Kratos. His fists are clenched at his sides and he quickly turns away. Your chest burns as you return your attention to Atreus, pretending not to have noticed his father gazing at the boy with a remorseful expression.

When the two of you break apart, Atreus stares at you expectantly. You turn your head to the side in an attempt to avoid his gaze, but the movement draws a pained hiss from your lips. You grimace as pain flares up your back. You don’t think you’re quite subtle enough, because Atreus’s eyebrows furrow.

“Your back hurts,” the boy realizes aloud. Damn it, why is this boy so observant? You bite your lip and remain silent, not wanting to further incriminate yourself. Atreus seems to have his mind made up, however, as he looks at you. “Haven’t you been sleeping on the floor? That’s probably why. You should tell Father.”

“No thanks,” you say with a shake of your head. Your conversations with Kratos are awkward enough on their own. The last thing you want is to bring up your discomfort, especially when he and his son have been so kind as to let you reside here. “Besides, there isn’t another bed for me to sleep in or anything.”

Atreus stares at you with a rather complex gleam in his eyes. His mischievous expression throws you off, and you get the feeling that you should be nervous. “Father likes you, you know,” the boy remarks. You blink once, twice—convinced that you misheard him. Once you process the statement, you look at him in confusion.

“There’s something about you,” Atreus continues, “He doesn’t hate you as much as he hates everyone else.” You want to laugh, but the sentiment seems to strike true—Kratos clearly dislikes people. The portion of Atreus’s statement concerning his lessened hatred for you is definitely untrue, though. Instead of arguing, you keep quiet and let Atreus continue speaking. “Ever since Mother died, he hasn’t been quite the same. But he’s better, now that you’re around.”

“You think so?”

Atreus nods silently. You don’t know what to say; Atreus seems similarly lost for words. “It’s healing nicely,” he says, nodding at your wound. You look down at the warped scar tearing through your skin. That scar is probably going to be permanent, you realize with resignation. Atreus doesn’t elaborate on his previous remark and you spend the rest of the day thinking about it.

The next day, the strange interaction with Atreus falls to the back of your mind, as you begin to busy yourself with attempts at full recovery. You slowly begin to start walking around again, and before long, you’re able to walk around the house with relative ease. One day, you even walk outside to get some fresh air. You don’t realize how much you needed the sunshine, until you feel a smile breaking out on your face. The midmorning rendezvous gives you a bit more energy.

For a few days after your attempt at departure, you don’t see Kratos at all. You almost want to think that he’s avoiding you, but you recognize that notion to be rather self-centered. He’s probably just busy. You decide to remain patient. Your patience does eventually pay off, because Kratos ambles into the room you’re occupying and stops to stand next to you. You send him a small smile, which he doesn’t return. Silence dominates the air for a few more moments, before Kratos speaks.

“The boy says-”

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to call him by his name once in a while,” you interject. Kratos glares at you and you glare right back for a few moments, until you eventually get sick of the charade. The man raises an eyebrow, as if to ask: Are you done? You roll your eyes in response.

“The boy says your back has been hurting.” Kratos finishes, a note of something unreadable in his voice. You don’t dare to analyze the emotion beneath that remark.

“He’s too observant, sometimes,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. You quickly feel the need to defend yourself. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Kratos snaps. He looks askance and it almost feels as if he’s trying to pretend you aren’t in front of him. Despite the rather harsh statement, though, his eyebrows are furrowed and he seems more irritated than usual. “You’ll sleep in my room tonight.” A million thoughts run through your head all at once. What does that statement mean, exactly? Surely, he means you’ll sleep on the floor of his room. Perhaps there’s a plush carpet. Honestly, you’ll take anything over the hardwood flooring of the main cabin area.

“Okay.” You murmur, once you realize that Kratos is waiting for a response. His lips are pulled taut and he stares at you for a moment longer before walking away. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Thankfully, it’s only midmorning. You have the rest of the day to put the thought off.

Unfortunately, the day passes unusually fast. Before long, it’s beginning to get dark. Kratos doesn’t seem to be around, but his words from earlier still echo in your ears. For a moment, you contemplate sleeping on the floor in the main room again. You quickly dismiss the notion when you see Atreus pouting at you. Rolling your eyes, you allow him to tug you by the arm until you’re standing in Kratos’s room.

There’s only one bed. Thankfully, Atreus leaves and doesn’t insist on anything stupid—like sharing the bed with his father. You’re sure that you’d wake up to an axe pointed at your throat, and you’d rather not have a repeat of your first meeting. There is a fluffy carpet in the corner of the room and you shrug, before lowering yourself down to the ground and curling up on your side. It’s far from comfortable, but you’re so tired that you can’t find the energy to care. Before you can muse about your unconventional sleeping arrangements any longer, you’re drifting off into sleep.

Your sleep is rough for a little while. You hear bits and pieces of noise, but you’re never fully torn from slumber. Then, out of nowhere, you’re jostled and you slip into a weird void between slumber and wakefulness. You vaguely register an arm under your knees and another supporting your upper back. Suddenly, there’s plush material beneath you and you can’t stop the miniscule exhale that leaves your lips at the feeling. You swear you hear a huff of amusement, but you’re far too exhausted to ponder it.

You wake hours later feeling remarkably refreshed. It’s the first time since you resided here that you were actually able to rest. You push yourself up slowly, taking a moment to survey your surroundings. It appears that you’re in Kratos’s room. Wait. You’re not on the floor… You’re on his bed. You quickly throw the blanket off of you and try not to panic. He can’t kill you if he doesn’t notice—

“You were on the floor.” Fuck. You look up, only to find Kratos hovering in the doorway. He stares down at you expectantly.

“Well, yeah,” you frown, pushing yourself off the bed to stand across from him. “Where else was I supposed to go?” Kratos has a rather disbelieving expression on his face as he regards you. His lips part and he’s about to say something when there’s a loud rapping sound. The man whips around and stalks out into the main room. You follow at his heels, secretly grateful for the interruption. You weren’t quite looking forward to the awkward conversation surrounding how you ended up sleeping in his bed last night.

“What was that?” Atreus asks, emerging from one of the other rooms. You put a finger over your lips and then turn to Kratos, who is glaring at the front door hard enough to set it aflame with his gaze alone. The three of you are entirely silent as you wait to hear the sound again. About a minute passes and you’re about to relax when there’s another harsh noise; it sounds like someone is knocking on the door. Kratos turns around and stares at you determinedly.

“Watch the boy.” He demands.

“But-” You try to say, beginning to sense what is going on. Evidently, this visitor isn’t coming for a housewarming party. Whoever it is, they must be an enemy—if the vicious expression on Kratos’s face is anything to go by.

“Go.” Kratos snarls. Your heart is racing but you decide to obey him. Atreus seems like he wants to fight, but you place a hand on his shoulder. He sighs and walks a few steps until he’s standing in front of a pile of cushions and blankets. Atreus pushes them to the side, which reveals a sort of trapdoor mechanism. The boy tugs at it before lowering himself down into it. You take one final glance at Kratos, before following Atreus into the makeshift cellar. The moment you’re with Atreus, Kratos closes the trapdoor and Atreus and you are left in pitch-black darkness.

“Will he be okay?” Atreus voices. Within a few seconds of that question, you both hear a rumbling sound and raised voices. You can’t quite see Atreus, but you can hear his leg bouncing restlessly.

“Of course,” you murmur quietly. You’re sure he’ll be fine and you try to bring that conviction into your voice to combat Atreus’s nerves. The boy stares at you for a moment, before practically throwing himself into your arms. You embrace him hesitantly at first. As the two of you continue to wait with bated breath, you bring your hand up to the back of the boy’s head and cradle him close. He’s far too young to be going through all of this, you think to yourself.

You hear a loud crash and hastily put your hands over Atreus’s ears. He whimpers and you close your eyes, trying not to flinch as you hear inexplicable noises from above. A part of you wants to peek out from the trapdoor and see what’s going on, but you promised Kratos that you’d protect Atreus. Knowing that, you hold him close to your chest and try to wait for the end of the crashing noises.

Ironically, after all of that ruckus, there is… nothing. You have no idea how much time passes after those sounds. Your ears are buzzing and you anxiously await any sort of noise. After an immeasurable amount of time, you hear footsteps from above. Atreus clenches your shirt in a tight grip and you pull him closer. The trapdoor creaks open ominously, and you instinctively turn your back to protect Atreus. A few seconds pass, and nothing happens. You warily turn your head, only to find Kratos looming over the trapdoor. You let out a sigh of relief and relax your hold on Atreus, who peeks out from your shoulder and looks up at him.

“Father!” Atreus exclaims, relief evident in his voice. He steps up on the chest nearby and Kratos hoists him up.

“Atreus,” Kratos responds, staring down at his son. The boy launches himself into Kratos’s arms, murmuring things that you pretend not to hear. You smile at the sight, despite feeling a bit out of place; you vaguely feel as if you’re not supposed to be witnessing this rather intimate and private moment. After a few moments, Atreus releases his hold on his father and you accidentally lock eyes with Kratos over the boy’s head. There’s blood splattered all over the man’s face but he appears to be fine. Atreus moves away and Kratos extends his arm to you. You don’t hesitate to take his proffered hand, allowing him to loftily pull you up from the cellar. His grip remains, even as Atreus pulls the cushions and blankets over the cellar. In fact, Kratos’s hand rises from your hand to grasp your forearm.

“You alright?” You ask. Kratos answers with a huff that you’ve grown to associate with amusement. There’s something lingering on his shoulder and you move to brush it off. Kratos stiffens and freezes, a guarded expression rising on his face. Despite his evident wariness, he doesn’t push you away. You brush the debris off his shoulder and quickly explain. “Sorry. You had, um, some dirt.”

“You looked after the boy,” Kratos says, apropos of nothing. You blink at him for a second.

“Of course,” you respond. You glance over at Atreus, who appears to be doing something in one of the other rooms. He’s too far away to hear your conversation, but your voice comes out like a whisper anyway. “I care about him. And… you asked me to.”

There’s a vulnerability in Kratos’s expression—a sentiment you’ve never seen from him. His eyes are wide and shining with emotion. You’re almost convinced that you’re seeing things. Despite the uncharacteristically expressive look on his face, he doesn’t speak for a few minutes. “You were prepared to die for him.” Kratos’s eyes fall to the pile of cushions over the trapdoor, evidently referencing how he found the two of you. You had instinctually shielded Atreus.

“I mean, don’t give me too much credit; it’s what anyone would have done.” You ramble, feeling strangely off-kilter with Kratos standing so close to you. His eyes have yet to leave your face and his gaze demands your attention. You stare at him and he stares at you. Kratos reaches out and cradles your jaw. He swipes at your cheek with his thumb and you freeze in surprise.

“When you were about to leave,” Kratos begins, his hand falling from your face and down to the crook of your neck. His lips part as if to continue speaking, but no words come out.

“You don’t have to explain,” you say, noticing that his shoulders are tight and his posture has recovered some tension. Kratos has an utterly tortured expression on his face and you feel immensely guilty for provoking that feeling in him. “Seriously, it’s fine-” You try to say, only for the words to fall flat on your tongue.

“You knew how to handle the boy,” the man continues. “I was envious at first. I… never had that kind of relationship with my father, and it affected my own relationship with the boy. When you appeared, I thought you would take him from me.” It appears as if speaking so much is actively harming Kratos, as he winces and stiffens with every word. He looks profoundly uncomfortable and determined at the same time. You remain silent, despite the conflicting feelings roaring in your heart.

“You understand the boy, in a way I have never been able to. I couldn’t bear to hate you, not when you gave Atreus his joy back. He hadn’t smiled since his mother died.” That, you hadn’t known. Suddenly, your throat burns as you remember the smiles Atreus has given you. “I have failed Atreus again and again, yet I tried to rob him of the one person that truly understood him… because that person was not me. What kind of father am I, for envying what you have with him?”

“A normal one, I think,” you answer honestly. “Kratos,” you break off, reaching out to him. Kratos grabs your wrist before you can reach him, a resigned expression on his face. He’s beginning to bury his emotions again. The light is slowly draining from his eyes. It feels as if he’s slowly slipping away from you.

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Kratos says quietly. Your eyes catch on the bloodstains on his face and you begin to realize what he’s alluding to. Everything begins to make an absurd amount of sense: the giant axe, the ease with which he handled the unknown intruder, the entirely unaffected expression on his face as he ordered Atreus and you to hide.

“I don’t,” you acquiesce. Kratos’s hand is still on your wrist, but you manage to move your arm and clasp his forearm in return. “But that doesn’t matter—none of that matters. What matters is that you’re trying.” You take a deep breath. “Atreus needs you… and I do, too.”

Your eyes lock again and you realize that Kratos’s eyes are rather glassy. Is he crying? No, you must be seeing things. There’s an apology on the tip of your tongue but before you can speak, Kratos is tugging you towards him. You go along with the sudden momentum and, in the blink of an eye, he’s kissing you.

The gesture feels far too short, as a voice grounds you back to reality. “Finally.” You freeze and regretfully break away from Kratos, only to find Atreus staring at the two of you from his position in the far doorway. You feel extremely mortified and you try to salvage the situation by removing your hands from Kratos’s shoulders, but you fear it’s already too late.

“Boy…” Kratos trails off, evidently lost for words. Despite the fact that you’ve been found out, the man still hasn’t removed his hands from your waist.

“What?” Atreus asks innocently, a rather mischievous smile on his face. You sigh fondly at him, before beckoning him closer. The boy runs over and throws an arm around you, before doing the same with his father. Kratos looks startled for a moment, before he brings Atreus closer with his free hand. You smile to yourself as you’re surrounded by Kratos and Atreus—your newfound family.

#defectivevillain #kratos x reader #kratos x male reader #god of war #gow #gow kratos #gow x reader #x male reader #male reader #masc reader #transmasc reader #yuh yuh

388 notes · View notes

alohajun · 11 months

Text

TREASURE'S REACTION WHEN THEIR IDOL PARTNER IS SHIVERING AT AN AWARD SHOW

treasure x gn!reader | wc : 0.7k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, established relationships, idol au, fluff, use of pet names, mild cursing | request — hi so i really like your blog's i'm wondering if i could request so if i could my request is treasure reaction when their idol s/o is shivering at an award show take your time

JIHOON, JUNKYU, MASHIHO, HARUTO

💎 as soon as he saw you rubbing your arms and the goosebumps on your skin, he’d frown, kinda sad you couldn’t even properly enjoy an award show because of your outfit

💎 so he’d do whatever was possible to keep you warm

💎 the decision was simple, really

💎 his beloved was cold and he was going to give you his coat

💎 oh, he didn’t have a coat? you best bet he will make another member take theirs off and offer it to you

💎 he gave zero fucks if this would become the headliner the next day

💎 because honestly who tf in their right mind would make you wear such flimsy clothing in negative degree weather

💎 there would definitely be clips on the internet of him shoving his hot-packs into your hands because you kept refusing to take them

💎 “oh to be him or to be y/n, that is the question” exhibit a of the tweets of that night

💎 would even go the extra mile and inform the award show staff about your group’s members, if everyone of y’all are feeling cold

💎 will make sure you guys get enough blankets and hot-packs to keep yourself warm until the end of the show

💎 “just take the damn jacket, y/n. i don’t want you to get sick.”

HYUNSUK, ASAHI, DOYOUNG, JEONGWOO

💎 oh, your timbers are being shivered at an award show and you don’t know what to do except rub your arms to keep warm?

💎 well, don’t fear because your boyfriend is here

💎 xdjgsd jokes on you truly if you thought he went anywhere without a jacket on him

💎 he’s the type to wear some long-sleeved outerwear even when people are sweating buckets because he knows you get cold easily

💎 so this time was absolutely no different

💎 as soon as he saw you a few seats away, shuddering from the cold of the stadium, he would get down to work

💎 either he was already wearing an extra jacket or would have been carrying one around, waiting for this exact moment because he knew it would happen sooner or later

💎 he’d call for a staff member and hand them the jacket along with some extra hotpacks, telling them to give it to you

💎 as soon as the staff member came towards you with the items, you didn’t even need to ask to know who it was from—there was only one person who knew you this well

💎 you’d look around for your boyfriend, sending him a smile from afar until you could thank him properly when you next saw him

💎 “i will never know why you don’t wear long-sleeves when you get so cold easily. you are lucky i know you, love.”

YOSHI, JAEHYUK, YEDAM, JUNGHWAN

💎 i don’t think they’d proper notice if you are shivering because they are just tryna have a good time at the award show

💎 and if anything, yk that treasure have a good time at award shows

💎 but when you are able to just shoot him a text about freezing to death or you end up meeting him on the way to the bathroom, he’d definitely be concerned

💎 a lot of “are you okays” and “are you sures”

💎 doesn’t exactly know what he can do to help you, so he’d probably turn to his leaders for some idea

💎 listening to their suggestions, he’ll ask a staff member to provide you with some blankets and a hotpack — and will continue to check in with you for the night

💎 if he sees that you and your group are all sitting right under the aircon, he’ll ask his members if they are alright with exchanging seats with you guys before letting you know

💎 and if you end up exchanging seats, he'll be in full smiles for the entire night

💎 because you'd be sending him little "thank you" messages constantly, and it'd make him super content

💎 whenever he turned to look at y'all and see you guys fully enjoying the night, he'd feel accomplished, glad everyone is having a good time

💎 "i'm always down to help you out, okay, babes? just let me know and i will do whatever i can."

taglist — @kflixnet @xiaosimp3 @nanalovesyouuu @twntycm @heejojo @jaesvelvet @fightmegirl @koishua @lovethyfandoms2 @kpoprhia @woooooooosh8 @milkybonya @enhacolor @yunho-leeknow @candililac @willdieforbeidou @luvbrie @mui890mew @yogurteume @one16core @soobin-chois @odetoyeonjun @wonluvrbot @acciomylove @idkwatodoanymore @kyufilms @ily-cuz-i @acaiasahi @teuranghae (to be added, please send an ask or dm!)

MASTERLISTS | TAGLIST FORM

225 notes · View notes

jarofstyles · 1 year

Text

Flame 3- Ignite

Hello… here she is. 🫡 finally. Bffrry has arrived! Part 4 is on Patreon now.

It’s basically pure smut so 😁 enjoy! Sorry for the wait

Check out our Patreon!

—————-

She should have taken Harry seriously when he said it would be an addiction.

It fucking was.

It seemed like the man could barely go a few minutes without a kiss in her presence, and she couldn’t be bothered to lie and say she didn’t absolutely fucking love it.

His lips found her neck as she sipped her coffee, rubbing tiredly at her eyes. Last night was an outing with their friends for Adam’s birthday. They’d celebrated sober, though no one else was. No one batted an eye at Harry’s hand on her thigh or when he had dragged her to dance- but more so make out heavily on the dance floor with a memory that would stick far clearer than any of their others. The taste of lime and tequila on his tongue and his hand gripping her hips while she moved them was an aphrodisiac, her lips still tingling from the nip he had given it when her hand slipped under his shirt.

A weak, sleepy whine left her throat as his teeth grazed the curve of her neck, biting down lightly on the sensitive flesh. His newest thing had been hickies. Attempting them, at least, trying to see how he could mark her. The possessiveness he actually showed towards her had reared its head the night before in ways that had made her panties ruined. Of course, they’d been tipsy and as soon as they got home they passed out in his bed for a change and regretfully didn’t get too much else.

“Don’t like wakin’ up alone.”

The timber and rasp of his sleepy voice could have made her moan out loud. Y/N hadn’t liked leaving his grip this morning, needing to use the restroom desperately- and caffeine to soothe her grumpy nature in the morning. Leaving him behind has been painful considering she had been in heaven in that bed, her nighttime shivers gone from the furnace of a man that wrapped around her like a koala- but she really had to piss, damn it.

“Sorry.” Her voice was gritty from sleepy, but added into it the spark of arousal in her body from his morning voice and the lips making their rounds on her throat. “Had to pee. And you’ve got the nespresso machine.” She giggled, squirming lightly as he rubbed his nose back and forth on her shoulder. The strong arm around her squeezed her back into him, a quiet grunt leaving his throat as she could feel him against her ass.

Oh. Fuck.

Harry could hear the breath hitch in her throat as his length pressed up against her ass, letting her feel exactly what it did to him. “N’then you want to tease me in my own kitchen? do you know what it does t’me, seeing you in my kitchen, drinking from my mug, in my fuckin’ shirt?” Fingers fell down to where his shirt hit her legs, sliding underneath it. Large palms glided up the soft flesh of her belly, settling on her ribs. “Cruel, cruel woman. But I suppose I could expect that from you.” A deep inhale was taken as another shower of kisses was slowly pressed from shoulder all the way to her jaw, biting down on the curved line with a groan. He was slowly rubbing himself against her, not trying to push it too far without more communication but thoroughly enjoying himself.

It didn’t help that Y/N let out a sweet little sigh, pressing her ass back into him as silent permission. “Shouldn’t it soothe the territorial pup in you? Nearly thought you’d pissed on my leg last night to mark your territory.” She teased back with a laugh, setting the coffee mug down and joining his hands under her shirt. “Danced with me just like this… rubbing against me. So hard then, too. Kind of wanted to make you cum on that dance floor.”

God damn, she had a hold on him.

Since their arrangement had gone around, they hadn’t done too much- but one thing they had done was rub off on each other. Y/N had gotten off on his thigh, and much like this, Harry had humped her during a movie they had been watching. It seemed like since those times, they had a hard time prying their bodies off of each other.

“You could have.” The admission was a hum, rocking against her slowly. “Looked so fucking sexy, in that little dress and letting me kiss on you. Could have burst right inside my pants.” He had no shame, as he usually didn’t. Harry was a little shit and it only got worse with age, but somehow Y/N found it more endearing than anything.

“Mmm. Not sure if I want to venture into exhibitionship quite yet. But…” she rolled her head back against his shoulder, angling her head to the side. “I’m more than happy to make you cum like this. I robbed you from the bed.” The bleary eyed smile up at him nearly broke him. Hands right under her breasts and her sweet body pressed up against his, his cock throbbing with need for her, and she was an angel on earth. His lips smothered hers, mixing the taste of coffee and mint with a tender passion.

The cool marble of the counter bled through the thin shirt as Harry pressed her closer to it. Y/N wasn’t nervous when he touched her. She was exhilarated. It made her want to take things further than they had been before. The heat of her own cunt was taking over, the glide of his wet tongue over hers making her fuzzy, she wanted him to touch more. Taking his large hands and placing them on her bare breasts for the first time, she hummed against his mouth, squeezing her hands over his when she felt him throb against her ass.

Soft. So soft and warm in his palms, the perfect size for his personal taste. At the feeling of them, he exhaled sharply into the kiss and pressed her further against the marble. This was too good to be true, this was a hidden fantasy he had buried so deep coming to the surface and making his head swim with pleasure. The slow rocking relief of pressure against her ass through his sweatpants and the taste of her mouth, it was everything the man never knew he needed.

“Harry…” the whimpery, airy whine of his name made the man’s eyes roll back, kissing her a bit harder before pulling back. Y/N knew how to make him crazy and they had only just really begun to fool around. It was interesting to see how they could be the same old friends, with him irritating Y/N and playfully fighting to this. This needy, messy pair who couldn’t stop touching.

“Yeah, baby?” He cooed, pinching both of her nipples between his fingers. “Do you like having me touch you like this?” The lips slick with the remnants of their kisses smeared across her cheek as he pulled lightly. The action made her moan, pressing back further into him. It was overwhelming how well Harry's hands seemed to know how to touch her. Like they were meant to do so.

“So much.” Her tone was even foreign to her. Y/N had never felt so airy and bubbly before, so hot. She was in need of him, the pressure building between her thighs starting to be too much. “I love your hands. Love how you touch me. I just want more n’more. How are you so good at this?” The words floated out without her permission, making her flush a little bit at how needy she sounded.

“You can have more and more.” He smirked. “Whatever you want. It’s your pace, Y/N. You’ve been driving me crazy.” That was an understatement, to say the least. It dawned on him that this was dangerously leaning into couple territory. That this wasn’t just what friends did- but he was selfish in this and wanted to do whatever she allowed. He could pretend they were dating. In his head, that’s what he wanted. So having her melt like this for him, it was a dream come true.

Her normally prickly self melted down to a soft mush as soon as he got his hands on her. Being able to touch her like this soothed an ache he had been having for a long time. The warm flesh against his hands and rubbing himself against her ass, the hunger he felt for more of her, to own this feeling grew In his chest. “Y’can have me however you’d like. As much as I want to tug up this shirt and sink into you here… I think I want some breakfast.” He nuzzled against her neck again, the sloppy, wet kisses on her hot skin meeting the cool air. Her body shuddered under his touch.

“Yeah?” She leaned her head back and on his shoulder, placing her hands on top of his while they kneaded her breasts. “I suppose I can let you. Don’t want you starving or anything like that, now do we?” She angled her head to the side, catching his jaw with her lips. “Though you may deserve it. Think you tugged my hair a bit too much last night, brat.”

Harry let out a breathless chuckle, buzzing from head to toe as she spoke against his skin. This scene was something from his dreams, and Y/N had no problem teasing him in either. “You’re sayin’ it like it’s a bad thing.” His sigh was soft as she nipped lightly at his jaw, enjoying the slight sharp feeling of her teeth. “Messy look, but you moaned. So… don’t give me that.” He released her, turning her back in his arms so she faced him.

Y/N didn’t have a moment to reply before her lips were caught with his, melting right back into the groove they were going for. Of course, she loved giving him a hard time. Harry was a little shit and loved to make her want to pull her hair out, pun intended, but he really did make her feel the best she ever has. No hook up, no cuddle had ever felt more right. His lips covered hers and had a natural air of dominance over hers that she was surprised she liked so much. Usually, she was the one in control- but for now, in these intimate moments, Harry took charge.

“Shut up.” She mumbled against his lips, squeaking as she felt his hands collar her hips and promptly lift her up on to the counter. Y/N wouldn’t let him know how much she fucking loved feeling him manhandle her a bit. “Watch it! You could have smacked my head against the counter.”

“But I didn’t, did I?” He snarked back, pushing the shirt up her thighs. “Just bein’ a gentleman is all, got to get you settled before I dig in. Been thinking about tasting your cunt for ages.” The admission was soft in the air, his nose brushing hers. “And I’ve been a very good boy n’let you do as you please, even leaving me cold and alone in the bed. But I think I’m gonna go absolutely mad if I don’t have the taste of you on my tongue in the next 3 minutes.”

The words caused her head to spin slightly. Of course she had known there had been sexual tension sometimes, but to hear him say that he had been thinking about how she tasted for a while now? It had her flushing, heat tk the cheeks as the large hands massaged her thigh, kissing down her jaw to reach her neck. How was this real?

“So for once in your life, you’re gonna be a good girl for me and let me taste what I want. You want it, yeah?” He waited for her to peep out her agreement before continuing. “Good. Stop interrupting me then, don’t be a little brat, hm? All I want to do is taste and make you fall apart on my tongue.”

………

It wasn’t hard.

Y/N had imagined his tongue before. Wondering how he would be with it. Still, he was somehow exceeding expectations. Her hands carded through the damp, silky waves, chest heaving as her head leaned back against the cabinet. Warm hands held her thighs open, keeping her from squirming too much as his tongue coaxed her closer to her second orgasm.

Second.

Y/N had been more sensitive than expected, and simply put, Harry hadn’t had his fill yet. So he continued. Y/N wasn’t going to complain. The man had a smooth talking mouth, but by god, his tongue was a godsend. Sinful and sweet, her new favorite. Soft strokes of the hot tongue melting her before his lips found her clit, no shame involved as he sucked it into his mouth slightly.

“Oh my god, oh my god- oh my…” she choked on her words as his eyes kept his dark, hazy gaze on her own. The smugness was visible, but he was so serious in his craft that he didn’t dare pull away to smirk. Instead, he slowly began to thrust his finger inside of her. Feeling her clench wildly around it, pairing the rhythm with the soft suckling on her clit.

It was wet, messy, dirty, but so fucking hot it was ridiculous. Harry couldn’t get enough of her. As if nuzzling his face into her cunt wasn’t enough, his reactions to her had been good enough to feed her confidence for ages. His growl, his proclamation of how good she smelled, how she tasted better than he had expected? Y/N knew. She knew this was going to ruin her.

“You’re gonna make me cum again.” She moaned, the awed look on her face making him hum against her. That was the point. All he wanted to do. If he had it his way, he would spend the entire day down here. Between beautifully cushioned thighs, wrapping them around his ears and muffling out anything that wasn’t Y/N and her sweet moans and cries.

Harry merely smirked against her body, angling his digits to stroke against the spot that had her thighs trembling against his touch. There was no denying that this was enough to get him off. He was so hard it physically hurt, sensitive enough that he knew it would only take a few strokes to come to his end, but he was selfish in a different way. He wanted to take her orgasm again, feel it gush a bit against his tongue. Hear his name from her mouth as she melted into a puddle of pleasure.

Y/N wasn’t even aware of the problem she had started. The need he was going to feel. He wanted her, he aches for her before they’d even touched. Just being her friend was enough to make him happy. To get close like this? He was going to be selfish, to absorb every inch of way she gave to him. He wanted her, her heart was the end goal but he would take her body as long as it was offered. Harry was selfish this way, but he hoped she was the same.

The moment he felt her begin to come over the peak, he continued the efforts with a groan. Tasting her, feeling her body arch and watching as her mouth fell into that pleasured ‘o’, he was close himself. Her weakened whine of his name and the eyes on his as he laughed deliriously into her cunt, licking her up as she orgasm flowed before pulling up, wet face and all, to kiss her.

It was the messiest kiss she had ever felt, her head still spinning as she moaned at the taste of herself on his tongue. Stroking over hers, she clutched his face, palms damp with her own arousal as she was needy with it, feeling a bit drunk with her own orgasms to care.

“Can I cum on you- please?” He asked gruffly, reaching into his shorts and hissing at the throbbing he felt. “Please baby, where can I?” The desperation in his voice was new, something she found her sensitive cunt reacting to. He was never weak like this around her, never begged seriously, and fuck- it was hot. Seeing his slick face and dark eyes, flushed cheeks. This was raw.

“On my cunt. Do it.” She dared him, licking her bottom lip. “Go ahead, baby. You made me feel good.” There’s an intimacy to it. She couldn’t deny it. But feeling the tip of him brush her, her legs wrapping around his waist and encouraging him forward felt unbelievable. “Let go for me.”

With his face dipped in her hands, his mouth open and the beautiful furrow between his brows, Harry choked out a broken groan as he stroked off, letting go. It didn’t take long at all. In fact, just feeling the wet heat against his cock had made him crumble so fast it would be embarrassing if it was with anyone else. But it wasn’t.

It was Y/N. His cum decorated her cunt, the creamy strands making a mess of her as his legs got a bit weak, falling into her a bit as he got the last long stroke in before he got too sensitive.

“Fuck.” The silent petting of his hair had made it all the much better, dipping his face into her neck while he pecked tiny kisses to her sweaty skin, shirt falling off her shoulder. It was the quiet comfort. No awkwardness as he pressed a longer, chaste kiss to her mouth and used some tissue to clean her up, whispering apologies when she jumped.

The soft moment was over, however, when a loud grumble of Harry’s stomach lit up the kitchen and she had to giggle. “Thought you’d just had breakfast. Aren’t you full?” The kick of her heels against the cabinet and her messy hair taunted him, the swollen mouth begging for more kisses as he grunted, stepping back between her legs with a banana in hand.

“When you’re the meal?” He scoffed, hands grabbing her bare thighs with a squeeze. “I highly doubt it’ll ever be satisfied with just a taste.”

745 notes · View notes