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sincerelyneo · 2 months

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touch tank | l.hc

“he's so pretty when he goes down on me, gold-skinned eager baby”

💿now playing: touch tank by quinnie

❯ summary: Hyuck just can’t understand it. Why don’t you want to sit on his face?

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut

❯ words: 3.0k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, oral sex (fem receiving), face sitting, nipple play, male masturbation, brief hair pulling, mention of death as a joke, reader uses she/her pronouns, haechan always being pussy drunk agenda

“What’s the big deal?”

Your boyfriend asks the question nonchalantly - as though you’re being completely unreasonable - which in some capacity maybe you are. But it’s not your fault. He may call it unreasonable, you would call it being cautious.

“Well for starters I’m not particularly keen on the idea of me suffocating you,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

Hyuck doesn’t listen - that’s not true - he’s hearing you but he thinks your excuses are ridiculous. You can tell by the way he’s still trying to kiss the skin on your neck down to the centre of your chest, and teasing the neckline of your tank lower until the edge is resting along the tops of your breasts.

“You won’t suffocate me,” he promises, shifting down to nuzzle further underneath your shirt until the tip of his nose nudges your nipple, which has already hardened from just a few of his kisses. You shiver, gasping when his lips catch on your skin.

“Considering how wet I make you, I’d be more likely to drown than suffocate baby,” he teases, his smirk visible just before his mouth opens around your nipple.

He sucks gently, ever so sweetly, just light enough to make you whine. When he talks again, it’s right against your skin.

“And now that I’m thinking about it, it wouldn’t be the worst way to go, and I think it would be kinda hot to have that on my headstone.”

You scoff out a laugh, “you’re unbelievable.”

This time you feel his smile on your nipple right before he bites down softly, making your head fall back.

You know what he’s doing - he’s good at this - making you feel so fucking amazing that your mind goes foggy. So, you squeeze your eyes shut, shake your head, and try to regain your focus on the situation at hand.

“What if I fall over?” You protest.

The rebuttal sounds weak - even to you. And when Hyuck slips his arm around your waist and pulls until you settle onto your side; you know it sounds weak to him too.

He starts to suck another gentle kiss over your nipple before trailing down over your belly, pushing your top up in contrast to the lower he goes. You squirm when his lips touch your bare stomach, clenching your thighs together tightly to try and dull the throbbing that’s started in your clit.

“You won’t,” he replies, slowly. “It’s just like riding my dick, and you know how to do that pretty damn well.”

Your voice betrays you, and you whimper under your breath before you can even think to hold it back. When you look down at Hyuck, he’s smiling lazily at you, like he knows he’s already won.

“But that’s different,” you insist, keeping your legs closed tight when his fingers try to sneak between them. “Your dick is supposed to get wet when we have sex. That’s the whole point.”

“Who says my tongue doesn’t want that either?” He murmurs, curving his spine down to kiss along the band of your panties. You groan - half in frustration and half in arousal - when he succeeds in stroking a fingertip against your clit; he circles it lightly, using as much room as you allow him.

“C’mon,” he tries again, voice pitched low and inviting. He drags his lips down to where his fingers are and starts kissing there instead, increasingly persistent, nuzzling up against your clit through your panties until you give in and open your legs for him. When you try to tilt your body to lie on your back again, Hyuck hooks his arm around your thigh and pulls you towards him instead, “Not like that, baby, over me, c’mon.”

“Hyuck,” you whine; you reach down to get a grip on his hair, hiding your face in your now bent elbow.

He doesn’t bother with removing the barrier of panties just yet, sucking with enough pressure for you to feel it through them. You move your hips against his mouth in tiny motions, pushing forward against his lips, and you know you're already fucking soaking, you can feel it if you shift in just the right direction to meet his mouth.

Only seconds pass before Hyuck pulls you closer again, this time slowly rolling himself onto his back as well, but you resist swinging your outer leg over to straddle his face like he wants, digging your nails into his scalp instead.

Hissing at the pain, Hyuck arches his neck to lick along the crease of your thigh. He loses his patience, curling his fingers around your panties and tugging them down, “At least let me see you, yeah?”

You flush at just the thought of him being so close to you and paying so much attention, like he always does. He doesn’t waste another second before he’s pulling your underwear off your legs, and tossing them down at your feet.

He kisses the inside of your thigh and the line of your hip before settling firmly on his back, looking up at you hopefully. You groan again, fully out of frustration this time, and irritably pull his hair. “You’re not giving up then?”

“Nope,” he says. He looks more aroused than he usually does by now, his chest rising with his heavier breaths. “God loves a trier.”

“Wish he didn’t,” you mumble.

You bring both hands up to your face and push your hair away from your forehead, clenching your thighs again before shifting up onto your knees, watching Hyuck’s eyes move down between your legs as you settle over his face.

He isn’t subtle, spreading you with his thumbs and looking over you. Your muscles clench on their own when you think about what he might see. He swears quietly to himself, and you wonder if it’s visible how wet you already are or if he’ll have to feel it to find out.

“C’mere, babe,” he says, keeping you open, still watching between your legs. He looks up to your face when you squirm, “can’t reach, I wanna taste you.”

“God, shut up.”

You lean forward, putting all your weight on your hands that are braced against the mattress, and slowly spread your thighs wider, muscles shaking already. Hyuck moves his hands to your hips and helps you ease down, leaning up to meet you at first, tongue already waiting to press flat against your clit. You gasp in surprise and jerk your hips forward before drawing up again, away from his mouth, but he tightens his grip on you.

“Shh, c’mon,” he says, easy and coaxing, “relax and c’mere.”

You tense as he pulls you back down to his mouth, but he gives you warning this time, turning his head to let his lips trail along the inside of your thigh before slowly making his way between your legs again, kissing your clit gently. It’s easier this time, and you try to let yourself relax.

The position just feels dirty to you, your breasts hanging heavy where you’re bent forward, nipples brushing against your top. Hyuck’s hands soothing on your body, sliding from your hips up your sides and back down, and you let yourself moan quietly when he gives your clit another soft lick.

“Yeah, that’s better,” he murmurs; you echo him, a quiet yeah that sounds more pleading than you expect.

He hooks his fingers around where your hips bend into your thighs, lowering his head back to the mattress to encourage you to drop down even more. You feel flushed and hot along nearly your entire body, especially right between your legs when you give in and inch down further, seeking out his tongue again. With your head hanging down, it’s hard to look anywhere but his face; he looks back, fitting his lips around your clit when you reach his mouth. He sucks softly, tilting his head back more, and the first touch of his chin against your cunt makes you blush deeper.

For his part, Hyuck just sighs against you and closes his eyes, flexing his fingers on your hips and slipping his tongue over your clit while it’s inside his mouth. You gasp and dig your nails into the mattress, tempted to move a hand down to hold onto his hair. But you need both hands for balance, keeping yourself relaxed while Hyuck pulls you down closer to him with gentle little tugs.

Honestly, it feels nothing at all like riding his cock; with his cock, you know then that you can bear down with as much weight as you like, know that he’ll push right back up and meet you. Like this, you’re shaky and unsure of how heavily you can settle down over his mouth, and he’s hardly giving you a chance to think it through. He keeps his tongue flat against you but slides it down from your clit until he can push the tip inside your cunt just enough to tease. You moan softly and try to roll your hips forward, wanting something deep enough to clench around, but Hyuck holds you still.

“Like that?” He asks, and you groan, squirming down against his lips when he kisses you there, thumbs going back to holding you open so he can lick inside.

You know you don’t need to answer his question - he knows your body better than you do - but you reply anyway with a strangled curse, shifting your hips to grind against the flat of his tongue now that his hands can’t hold you still. He moans softly against you, trailing off into a hum as he sucks a kiss over your clit.

“Keep doing that,” he mumbles, words vibrating against you, “move like that, make yourself cum.”

Your breath leaves you in a rush and you bend closer to the mattress, elbows going momentarily weak.

You pant; sounding desperate as you obey him. He starts sliding his hands from your hips up your stomach and under your top to give you free rein of your movements.

It’s hotter than you expected it to be, moving to rub your clit against Hyuck’s tongue. He reaches up far enough to pinch both your nipples between his fingers, just tight enough that there’s a tug when you roll your hips forward, shoulders pulling back. When you push forward far enough to get the tip of his tongue nestled inside you, you can feel his nose nudging your clit; you stay like that for a moment, rocking down against the pointed end of his tongue before you give in, whining.

“In me, put it in me deeper.”

Hyuck groans louder against you now, pinching your nipples tighter. “So fuckin’ wet,” he murmurs, tilting his head back and slipping his tongue inside as deep as it’ll let him go.

“Keep your hands there,” you instruct, and he pinches again as a reply, gentler this time. Ignoring any leftover uncertainty, you straighten your back to sit up and free your hands, immediately cradling his head.

You can feel his heavy breaths against you every time he pulls his tongue back to lick his lips. It becomes easier to take control of the situation. You find, Hyuck doesn’t seem to protest when he’s like this, licking over and inside with eagerness each time you urge yourself closer to his mouth.

The slow climb to your orgasm starts when he forgets your earlier request and heads back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a slick sound that’s loud. You let your head tilt back into the feeling, the ends of your hair tickling the curve of your spine.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe, not even sure if he hears you over his own encouraging hums. The vibrations are subtle but just enough for you to rock into, twisting your fingers tight into his hair and holding on as you move to keep his head in place.

Using Hyuck’s mouth to actually work yourself up to cumming is much more like riding his cock. The motions feel the same: thighs flexing, hips tilting for the best angle, fighting to keep your balance. It might even be better than riding him, with the firm suction and Hyuck’s soft tongue, knowing that he’s conserving his breaths for you, wanting to make you cum more than he wants anything else at the moment.

His hands have strayed down at your ribs, fingers digging in to hold onto you like you’re holding onto him, and his steadying grip along with the constant pull on your clit is what makes you finally lose it.

You let yourself groan out loud when it first hits, grinding down hard into his mouth, trusting him to know how much you can take while you ride it out. It becomes too intense in seconds, your sensitivity ramping up so quickly that you can’t keep up with it, but Hyuck pulls his mouth away as soon as you whimper, dragging his nails down your sides.

“Fuck,” he groans. He works one arm under your thigh to reach for his dick, and you feel his shoulder shaking underneath you right away.

You’re panting, still hovering over his mouth; he’s wet down to his chin, lips parted and slick. It’s a bit of a rush to look down at him and watch his eyes open to find yours, dropping back down between your legs while he touches himself.

You smile hazily, “Think you liked that more than I did, and I’m the one that came.”

“I might’ve,” he agrees, his voice tight.

Wanting to give him a show, you release your grip on his hair to touch yourself, fingers slipping down until you inch one inside, deeper and more solid than Hyuck’s tongue was, but jolting from the sensitivity. You’re close enough to his face that your knuckles brush his damp chin, and he tucks his head down to kiss the backs of your fingers.

“Don’t tease me,” he says.

“Who’s teasing?” You ask, as playful as you can sound with your breath still panting fast.

Your original hesitance about the position isn’t even at the back of your mind now, not with Hyuck’s chest heaving under your weight and his eyes flicking fast over your body like he isn’t sure where to look.

“You could let me taste again,” he tries, tilting his head to the side to rub his face up against your inner thigh. You feel his arm move quicker, like just the idea is helping bring him off. It’s not an idea you oppose, judging from the small burst of arousal you feel when he kisses your skin and licks between breaths.

“That good, is it?”

You take in another one of your fingers and let them sink deeper, still sensitive enough to draw a gasp. Hyuck doesn’t respond, just keeps his hand moving and looks up at your face, barely starting to tremble the closer he gets.

When you slip your fingers out, you re-tighten your grip on his hair. His eyes are losing focus, but still trying to stay open to watch you. The sheen on his lips still glistens, so you drag your fingertip along his bottom lip and only get halfway across his mouth before he opens to suck them inside. He finally stops delaying the inevitable and shuts his eyes.

You hardly ever see your boyfriend like this, his body language edging on desperate. His cock is flushed darkest at the head and nearly as wet as you are, a little pool of pre-cum gathers on his stomach. The hand not jerking himself now is gripping your thigh tightly enough to leave indentations around his fingertips, and his toes are curled in on themselves; his whole body is wound so tightly, muscles straining.

He keeps sucking at your fingers sharply, letting them muffle any noises he makes.

“Didn’t know you’d like this so much,” you say, “next time I’ll turn around so I can suck your cock too.”

Much like before, just the idea is enough for Hyuck; he freezes just as his orgasm starts, then moans around your fingers, mouth going slack even as his hand keeps working fast. You hook your fingers gently over the bottom set of his teeth and rub your thumb over his jaw.

Just as you’re about to contort yourself enough to lean down and kiss him, you feel a hot splash against your back and you gasp, even as Hyuck’s eyes stay closed tightly.

“Oh my god,” you say, dragging your fingers from his mouth and over his chin, waiting until he opens his eyes to continue. “If you got cum on my shirt, I take back my offer.”

Hyuck’s laugh leaves him before he can help it, more of a giggle with little power behind it. “Payback,” he pants, “for being so difficult.”

“I was thinking of you in my protests,” you argue.

He ignores you. “Well for someone who didn’t wanna come up here like this you sure don’t seem to wanna move now.”

“That’s because, I know when I move we’re going to have to clean up. Also I’m in a position of power like this.”

Attempting to use that supposed position of power, you rise to your knees and finally pull off your top completely, dropping it unceremoniously on Hyuck’s head before letting out a giggle of your own.

“Speaking of which, you can do laundry today,” you say.

“Only if you let me fuck you on the washing machine,” he counters, mimicking your tone. He makes no move to pull the cloth from his face.

“Hyuck!” You snap; he shrugs animatedly, making up for the lack of visible facial expression. After a beat, you relent, “I suppose those vibrations probably would be nice.”

#nct smut #nct dream smut #haechan smut #nct 127 smut #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct dream hard hours #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #nct scenarios #kpop smut #nct imagines

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bonny-kookoo · 6 months

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Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 9

He just can't give up.

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, slight Angst, personal insecurities, SFW but kook is naked the entire time help, [Tags will be different for every part!]

Length: 1k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

Collab with @euphoricfilter ! 💜

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

When Jungkook emerges from the bathroom, you’re already dressed in at least a pair of panties and a shirt of his that’s way too big for you.

He however doesn’t seem to be in too much of a hurry to put on any clothes, as he marches back into the bedroom naked, no shame at all while his hand rubs a towel over his damp hair. “Jungkook-” you say, and he hums a reply to you, shaking some water out of his ear before he turns to you, tattooed skin distracting you for a moment before you find your thoughts again. “-I... Really love you, you know. But I’m still mad.” You shrug, making his face morph into one of urgency, as he watches you sigh and get up to open the dresser. “I’m going to have a weekend with the girls to-” You start, but his eyes fall open in shock, blood running cold.

Shit.

“No!” He whines, like a wounded animal almost, making you frown at him. “I mean- babe please, I already had to spend one whole night without you-” He complains weakly, unable to really prevent you from getting out clothes for yourself as you pack an overnight bag that’s pink in colour. “-please-”

“Jungkook just give me that.” You say, looking at him as he takes out one of your sweaters again. “I don’t want to lash out at you just because I’m still riled up from the shit that happened these past few weeks.” You say, referring to past outbursts that had been common- and that hurt him, you know that. You’ve got a pretty bad temper, you’re aware of this, and you’ve been trying hard to control it especially with him, because the words that sometimes tend to slip through your lips aren’t the truth at all-, they’re just meant to hurt, nothing else.

And hurt they do, because you know him well, and know what his weak spots are.

But Jungkook isn’t someone you want to hurt- you actually want to avoid that at all cost, but with the pressure of the past stress he’s put you throught just as much as he’d had to carry it, you’re very aware of the fact that you might just end up scolding and yelling at him for things he’s got no control over. And you don’t want that. You hate feeling annoyed by him.

But for Jungkook, this is absolutely horrible. You can’t leave, not this weekend at least. He’s just blasted half his money on his bank account out for the plane tickets, and the Airbnb is booked and currently being prepared for the two of you. If you leave now, everything would’ve been for nothing.

“No, you don’t get it- you can’t leave...” He complains, as you roll your eyes, closing the closet to instead venture into the bathroom to pack your skincare into a small bag. “-baby are you listening to me?” He urges, but you just shrug.

“Yeah, but I don’t feel like dancing to the song you’re singing right now..” You just mumble, and suddenly, he becomes serious-

Before he walks out the bedroom, out of sight.

“Jungkook?” You call out, but you don’t get a reply at all- so you just can’t help but walk out the bedroom to see what the hell your naked boyfriend could be doing right now, just to find him right in front of the front door, sitting to block it, arms crossed just like his legs. “Jeon Jungkook, what the fuck are you doing?” You ask, looking at him in disbelief.

“You’re not leaving.” He says, staring ahead of himself, determined as ever while some water drops from the slightly curled ends of his dark hair. He must be freezing his ass off- quite literally- and you just can’t help but worry.

“Jungkook please, the floor is cold as fuck-” You whine, walking towards him to try and pull him up by his arm- but he’s not moving, his weight preventing you from even getting him to remotely get up. “Jungk-”

“Say you’ll stay then.” He looks up at you, goosebumps already rising on his forearms.

“I already told them I’d come along this weekend, I’m going to be back Sunday evening!” You complain. “You’re being-”

“You can just tell them your boyfriend is taking you to an expensive as fuck holiday trip.” He says, looking you straight in the eyes. “That it was a surprise, that you didn’t know.” Jungkook offers, and you frown again.

“Jungkook you know I can’t lie!” You whine, pulling at his arm again, but his hand moves now to hold your wrist, catching your attention.

“Who said it’s a lie?” He asks, and from his tone of voice to the look on his face, you know he’s serious.

“...Jungkook, what the fuck?” You almost whisper out. “Why? And how would you even pay for that-” You argue, sitting down on your knees next to him now, completely caught off guard.

“With overtime.” He shrugs. “Side jobs. And some weird assets I made for some indie-game I doubt will ever be released to be honest.” He explains.

“So you didn’t ignore me because you were seeing someone else... but, hold on.” You shake your head. “You constantly went out with the boys though?” You argue, and at that, he seems to become visibly a bit bashful.

Shy even.

“No, that was...” He plays with his lip ring. “...I took on a nightshift job at the bar we went to with your dad last year. You know, the one where that guy fell off his chair and cleared the whole table in the process?” He chuckles, looking down at his knees.

“...” You look at him for a good moment, silently, before your shoulders relax. “Oh Jungkook... why?” You coo, finally realizing why he was always so extremely burned out, and why he smelled of alcohol and cigarettes every night he came home.

“I.. That's the thing. I can’t tell you yet- but I will.” He urges, moving a bit to face you. “If you don’t go with the girls, but me instead.” He tells you, eyes anxiously jumping from one of yours to the other as he waits for your answer. And after a moment, you nod.

“Okay.” You tell him, before you move to smack his thigh, and stand up,-

“But put on some pants first, idiot!

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader

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wooahaes · 7 months

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sturdy leaves

pairing: non-idol!dino x gn!reader

genre: fluff + established relationship au. reader (+ seungkwan) is an elementary school teacher.

word count: 0.8k~

warnings: reader is referred to as 'pretty' once (due to the look on their face).

daisy's notes: m... men... being loving........ collapses onto ground.

Chan sat on the ground with you, sitting on a blanket because the cold autumn ground was awful to sit on, and realized just how much he loved you. When you’d turned down his offer to go out this morning because you had work to do… He’d merely offered to come keep you company. He had listened to the soft hum you let out, phone pressed warmly against his ear, and waited. He waved away Seungkwan before he could tease him for the sappy expression on his face, and made his way toward the kitchen.

“I’m collecting leaves for my kids arts and crafts projects this week,” you’d said after a moment. “It’s not exactly fun work. It’s kinda cold out, too—”

“I’ll do it!” He had said immediately, “I’ll come help you.”

Seungkwan had muttered something about how whipped Chan was for you. Chan merely ignored him this time. Normally, it’d make him bicker: at least I’m dating someone! which would be met with at least I get to see them every day, because Seungkwan never let Chan live without knowing that the two of you wouldn’t have met without him. But Chan disappeared into his room, immediately bundling up. You’d told him to come to the park to find leaves with you, and he was there as fast as he could.

He’d leaned against you a little, sorting through a pile of leaves you’d swept up together. Chan liked to watch how careful you were in picking out leaves for your elementary school students. He’d tried to be picky, too: nothing too small, or too limp, or too broken, or too… well, weak? The ones that were perfect for stepping on because they crumbled immediately with that beautiful crunch. They needed to be sturdy, and Chan had already broken a few while searching through.

“So… What are you doing with them?”

“Making little ghosts,” you hummed. “We’ll paint them white together and draw on little faces.”

It sounded cute. “Is that all?”

You dropped another golden leaf into your bag. “Seungkwan’s making the owls for our class, too. And I think we’re going to have them trace leaves, too, for this watercolor art thing.” You paused after a moment. “You could come by after school and see.”

He smiled a little to himself. “Really?”

“The kids are so creative, y’know,” you already had this fond, sweet smile on your face that Chan longed to kiss. There was always something so tender in your voice whenever you talked about your students. Sure, you had your complaints sometimes, but you (and Seungkwan: Chan saw that same spark in him, too) loved your job wholeheartedly. “I always like doing crafts with them,” you said. “We get to teach them about the seasons and leaves changing… and create some cute things for the classroom, too.”

Sometimes… Chan wished that he was the one teaching alongside you. But honestly, he was glad you and Seungkwan had each other to fall back onto. Chan liked being outside of that world, always right there to give you an escape from all of it. He’d helped you grade multiple choice tests and quizzes before, always happy to press a sticker onto them whenever applicable. Hell, he liked buying you more stickers to use on your students’ work. There was something so endearing about how happy you’d get, always thrilled to see that he’d been thinking about you. But he was glad to exist outside of the world itself, happy to talk to you about whatever project was going on at his own work—you’d always said you liked hearing about other adult problems after spending so many hours with kids and your fellow teachers.

“I’d love to,” Chan said after a moment. “I like seeing what the kids make.”

“You don’t have to lie,” you teased. “You like seeing me.”

He chuckled, “I love seeing you. I like seeing the craft-things. There’s a difference.”

You leaned in to steal a quick kiss. “I know,” you hummed. “I just like to hear you say it.”

Only for you to pull away from him the moment you heard a kid’s voice yell out in recognition, one of your students having spotted you while out with her dad. She’s already taken off running toward you, and you rose to greet her. The man immediately grew flustered as he scooped her into his arms, promptly apologizing to you—she was excitable, and there was something else about how you were one of her favorite teachers ever.

Chan just smiled to himself as he watched you crouch down a little, talking politely to your student while showing her one of the leaves you’d collected. “Isn’t it pretty?”Yeah. That kind look on your face was pretty. And Chan would sneak a picture of it whenever he could, just so he could commit it entirely to memory.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @weird-bookworm

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #dino x you #dino x reader #dino fluff #dino imagines #lee chan x reader #lee chan x you #lee chan fluff #lee chan imagines #wooahaes.fall23

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ohtomatotome · 3 months

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It's You. You're My Kink.

Recipient: @kokorokai as part of the ‘My Ikémen Valentine' Gift Exchange hosted by @ikemenlibrary

Characters: (Ikemen Prince) Clavis Lelouch and MC/Emma. Established relationship

Recipient’s Request: 🌶 NSFW content with a dominant Clavis

Premise: He knows she knows his weakness is alcohol and his fetish is her thighs. But he doesn't know her weaknesses, fetishes, kinks, or fantasies. It's time to force some sexy secrets out of his lovely lover. Written from Clavis’s PoV.

Content Tags: consensual, soft dom, cunnilingus, sensory play, blindfold, light bondage/restraints, ropes, temperature play, spanking/impact play, anal toys, dildo, vibrators, ball gag, orgasm control, edging, begging, praise.

Word count: 7,500

Author's Notes are at the end of the story.

TITLE: It's You. You're My Kink.

Emma unwrapped the gift box and took out a skein of lavender shibari rope and leather wrist restraints. There was a pause as she held them in her hands before giving me a dubious glance.

Oh? Already wary, are we? Heh, heh.

“I’d make a guess that you are inviting me to be your ‘lovely accomplice’ in setting up traps, but … Clavis, this … is not your usual rope for traps. And this.” She dangled the cuff from her fingers, “isn’t usually part of your traps, either. I’d hope, anyway?!?” A strained giggle, paired with her eyebrows pulled up together in confusion made an exquisite reaction.

Ah, well, let me spell it out so she’s not taken unawares when the fun begins tomorrow.

“What’s that? You say you would love to enjoy some alone time with your handsome prince? And you give your consent for some kinky fun? Oh, Emma, I’m so happy you decided to accept my invitation!”

I noticed her eyes widened at the mention of ‘kinky’. Oh ho.

My meaningful gaze bore down on her and I gave her my most wicked smirk.

“Oh! Oh, that’s what this is about? Clavis, your ruses and … gifts always make me second-guess myself. At first I thought it had to do with something sexy, but that’s not usually your style to be so obvious, so I was stumped.” This time, Emma’s giggle was adorably genuine.

The smirk still firmly in place, I waited a moment for her to continue. For her to give the answer I was certain of. For her to say ‘yes’.

But she only just looked at me, mild amusement on her face and nothing else coming out of her pretty mouth.

Well.

I cleared my throat, “Aaaaand, my lovely lover? What is your answer? Do you give me your consent to try all manner of delicious deviant deeds this weekend?”

At this, her perfect cheeks turned a ripe shade of strawberry pink.

Hm, yes that’s more like it.

She asked, “...all manner? Like what?”

Just as I was about to open my mouth and give her a most ambiguous answer, she hurriedly spoke again.

“Nevermind! I don’t think I want to know ahead of time. I trust you. Yes, darling, you have my consent for … kinky things.” Her hesitation towards the end came with downcast eyes and even redder cheeks.

Excellent, excellent.

I clapped my hands once in triumph, crowing, “Wonderful! You can leave all the travel preparations to me. All you need to do is pack your own bag.”

I leaned forward so my face filled her view, and pitched my voice lower and with seriousness, without a trace of my usual flamboyance, “Listen closely.”

She stiffened at this unfamiliar tone, curious eyes never once leaving mine.

“This is what you will pack: 4 pairs of panties and bras, your most comfortable robe, and the new corset you will find in your bottom dresser drawer. That is all. You don’t need anything else to wear on this trip. Nod if you understand.”

Emma hesitated, looking as if she had a question to ask, but then nodded. A timid smile was creeping across her lips.

I wanted very much to kiss it off her face, and then keep kissing her until we were both breathless.

Instead, I kept my composure and merely said, “Good girl. Be ready to go in the morning. Good night, and sweet dreams. I love you.”

After a kiss to her forehead – mm-hmm, her hair smelled heavenly – I stood up to leave.

“Uh- um, good night, darling. I love you, too.”

I closed the door and inhaled deeply. Why did no one warn me that practicing dominance meant that you also were to be exercising extreme self-control on yourself?? Augh!

I had seen a heated glimmer in her eyes, something I’m sure was not there before I gave her her packing orders.

Good. Good.

The experiment was off to a smashing start. I had intended to begin the kink level low, even before we reached my manor. This first part was intended to dictate her actions. By commanding what she must pack, my words and presence would continue to be with her as she is packing. She’ll be thinking about me all night and morning, long before she even sees me in the carriage. Every time she looks at her suitcase, she’ll be reminded of my strong tone of voice.

I wonder if she liked that experience tonight?

Emma liked it. Liked it very, very much. She sat on the sofa for a good long while, savoring the intimidating and arousing aura that Clavis had directed at her. It was so new!

When she finally pulled out the corset he had mentioned, she swallowed hard. This wasn’t a pretty lace and satin thing of lingerie. It was leather, well-stitched and expertly made for durability and comfort. It was an elegant shade of lilac, with an almost pearlescent sheen. Beautiful, actually. There were buckles and straps, metal eyelets and rings attached at various places that had nothing to do with the closures.

Now that she looked at it with a critical eye, the row of three black and gold straps across the front mimicked Clavis’s short uniform coat. She bit back a chuckle at her fiance's audacity before setting to work with packing only the essentials he had mentioned, all the while her imagination filled with images of him.

“Stand here. Don’t move from this spot.”

We had reached my manor without incident, and I immediately went to work on my experiment to discover Emma’s hidden kinks. I removed my white overcoat, boots, and scabbard, placing them on the bench by the bedroom door. Watching her as I loosened the buttons of my lilac jacket and returned in a slow stroll, I noticed she was clutching nervously at her skirt. But she never took a step.

“Should I take off my clothes, too?” Her question was touched with anxiety.

“No,” I cooed, “You only need to do what I tell you to. For right now, place your feet a little further apart so you have better balance. Yes, like that. Well done.”

I delivered my praise with a light caress to her temple. I was pleased to see the glow of warmth was back in her exquisite eyes. My bunny must be liking this already. I wonder what is going on inside that brilliant mind of hers right now?

I slid the dark violet cravat off my collar and stepped around behind her. Silently, I tied it around her head as a blindfold. Only when I was certain it was secure and she couldn’t see, did I lean in close to her ear to whisper huskily, “First: a little sensory deprivation to heighten your other senses.”

She flinched at my nearness, but relaxed soon enough. Next it was time for the wrist cuffs. These were a thing of beauty, crafted by the same skilled leather worker who built Emma’s custom corset. They were made of white leather with padding on the inside and edges, adjustable buckle, and reinforced D-rings. Expertly designed to my specifications.

I gracefully slid my palm down from her shoulder to her wrist, stopping there to encircle her delicate wrist within my thumb and forefinger. Just a moment, just long enough to give her a hint of what was coming. I put one cuff on that wrist, tightening the strap until it was almost flush to her skin. “Tell me: Is that too tight?”

She shook her head. I saw it, but this wouldn’t do. Had she forgotten already?

I tapped her lips with my gloved finger. “Use your words, darling. You must answer out loud when I ask you a question. Now try again: Is this too tight?”

“No. …sir.” The second word was added with apprehension, as if she wasn’t sure she should use the term or not.

Sir?

Hm. I certainly didn’t order her to call me that. Had she read such things in her romance novels? I didn’t want her thinking of those fictional men when I’m right here. Hm. Hmmmm. No. No, I didn’t like it. She needed to call me by my name, dammit.

I held her chin with my thumb to get her attention. “Listen closely: You are to call me Clavis. Not ‘sir’, not ‘master’, not anything else. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Clavis,” her answer was confident now.

Good. Very good.

I let go of her chin and put on the other wrist cuff, then snapped the rings of both cuffs together so her hands were bound in the front. She still would have the use of her hands. The object of the cuffs was to give her a small taste of being restrained while I tease the rest of her body.

The next thing was a ball gag. I had made sure to choose the most breathable, most comfortable one intended for beginners. Despite those precautions, I was still worried she might find this item repulsive. Positioning it in front of her mouth, but still an inch away, I warned her, “I have something to put in your mouth. It’s meant to stay there and keep you from talking. If you don’t like how it feels, use the non-verbal sign on tapping me twice to remove it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Clavis.” My lovely fiance opened her mouth obediently.

Such a glorious sight. I wanted to fall to my knees and weep with joy.

But no. No. I must continue to be the one in control.

The Dom.

Right. Back to work.

I set the ball inside her mouth, ordering her to bite down slightly to hold it while I fastened the strap on the side of her head. I waited a moment while watching her face for any signs of discomfort or revulsion. There came none. Just placid trust and patience.

Oh, my sweet, sweet Emma. Well done. Very good. You're being so good for me.

This deserved a reward … which just happened to also be a test. I stepped close to her side, my chest touching her shoulder. My arms encircled her waist to hold her upright as my mouth came a hair-breadth away from her ear. I sighed softly, letting the warm air waft before I assaulted the shell of the ear with kisses, toothy nibbles, and noisy sucking. I didn’t let up until she was fully squirming and seemed unsteady on her feet. But not once did she safe-tap me to stop.

“Ah, your ear is so sensitive now, hm?” I whispered before flicking my tongue out to tickle her ear lobe.

She jerked her head away in surprise, but my arms kept her balanced. I chuckled breathily as her face relaxed and leaned towards me once again. I kissed her cheek, down her jaw, and the side of her neck.

Emma’s muted breathing grew heavier the lower my lips went. Where her blouse collar began I sucked and nipped to leave a splendid mark. I admired it a moment before moving my hands; one to grip the hair at the base of her neck, the other to slowly snake across her stomach and down, traveling over the waistband of her skirt.

I could feel her quiver under my touch, but still she stayed in place. Oh, I’m so proud of you, my sweetest. My hand fisted in her luscious tresses and pulled gently back and to the side so as to expose more of her pure neck to me. I gave a quick peck to the shell of her ear before trailing kisses down her neck again, this time focusing on the erogenous zone where the neck meets the shoulder.

Meanwhile, my other hand continued its journey downward over the beautiful swell of her abdomen, palming her pelvic mound. I pushed the tips of my fingers into the crevice at the apex of her thighs. This earned a shudder from her and a gasp muffled by the ball gag.

So delightful. So trusting. So mine. I love her more than words can say.

I glided my hand upwards to her bound wrists, holding them. My other hand had let go of her hair to settle at the small of her back.

Humming my approval, I pressed a little kiss to her cheek, “You did so well, darling. Such a good girl for me. Now, let’s make you more comfortable, hm?”

After removing the gag, cuffs, and blindfold, I led her to sit on the edge of the bed. She was flushed, but her eyes were bright with delight and curiosity as I knelt in front of her. My hands rubbed back and forth across the tops of her thighs, ruching up the fabric of her skirt.

“Tell me: How did you like the blindfold? The gag? The wrist cuffs?”

Each question was delivered with as calm a voice as I could muster, even though I was bursting at the seams with excitement to know if anything had her galloping with arousal.

She paused before answering, as if she wasn’t expecting to be reviewed on her experience. I smiled and narrowed my eyes.

“Come, come. I’m not looking for an in-depth analysis. Just let me know if any one thing in particular stood out as a favorite.”

Recognition lit her face, as if she had just come up with an answer. As she took a breath to reply, I began unbuttoning her blouse. This action stopped her before any words came out.

Heh, heh. I LOVE to keep her on her toes!

“Don’t mind me, darling. Simply multi-tasking while you talk. Go ahead, now. You were about to say the part you liked the best?” I flashed her an innocent smile, and began to kiss the notch of her throat, eager to keep kissing the skin I exposed while I continued unbuttoning.

She raised an eyebrow in skepticism, but spoke anyway, “I liked it when you gave me orders.”

I was in the process of leaning in to kiss the swell of her breast when this admission caught me by surprise.

Ah!

Darling… ah, my lovely lover. Now it is YOU who have shocked me. Of all the kinky equipment, it was the commands that turned you on the most?

I smiled into her skin as I sucked her nipple into my mouth, earning a responsive jolt and gasp from her. Oh, does she even know how much that answer pleases me?

I pulled away and nodded as sedately as I could, trying not to show how much her reply affected me. “Hm, I see. Thank you for the feedback, dearest. Now, let us continue the experiment, shall we?”

She quirked her eyebrow once more, but I offered no explanation as I finished undressing her and ordered her to lie face-down on the bed. I ran a knuckle lightly over her shoulder blades, murmuring “good girl” as she got comfortable.

The second set of implements were intended to expose her to various temperatures and sensations. I was most interested in the last part of this section: impact play. Would my bunny enjoy being spanked, I wonder?

Over the next few minutes, I subjected her unblemished skin to an ice cube melting over the curve of her buttocks, melted wax dripped down her spine, feathers tickling her rib cage, softest cashmere rubbing up the backs of her creamy thighs, and rubberized mitts dagging over her hips. All the while, I gave her orders to either be silent, or be vocal. To either keep still or to wriggle and writhe.

During the use of the equipment, one of the commands I gave her was to “respond as honestly as you can, however you wish.”

And what was her adorable answer? “No, please, Clavis. Tell me what to do, what to say. Please?”

I couldn’t help but grin broadly at that, glad she could not see how thrilled I was at her plea. Of course I never let her know my joy. Instead, I bent down so my lips were next to her ear, and she twitched from hearing my threatening tone so close to her, “What’s this? Disobedience? Are you telling me what to do?”

She was quick to shake her head, uttering “Nuh-uh. No. I just … I, um… Sorry? I’ll do my best.”

I straightened up and patted her head proudly. “That’s a good girl.”

It was so cute seeing this new side of her! It seemed as if she was truly enjoying herself in this role.

We continued, eventually getting to the impact play portion. I propped her hips up on several pillows so her gorgeous ass was raised high, perfectly poised for my hand.

I noticed a slight glistening of liquid at the lips between her legs.

Hm. Nice. I hadn’t even touched her there yet.

I hadn’t warned her what was coming next. As I was rummaging through my case for the leather paddle, she ventured a timid question, “Clavis? Are you going to fuck me now? Is that why you stacked all these pillows under me?”

“So soon? Oh, no. Not yet, my lovely. Before we can get to that, we have so many more experiments to try.” I saturated my voice with wicked pleasure.

Her head dropped to the mattress, letting out a groan of immense disappointment.

I chuckled, “Oh, don’t sound so discouraged. I thought you were having fun. But …” I paused, inflecting my next words with dramatic self-pity, “... if you’re getting annoyed with me and wish to stop and go back to your books, I’ll understand.”

Emma snorted with amusement. I could sense the frustrated eye-roll she was giving me. “No. ….Ugh, no. Don’t – “ she huffed, pausing a second as if she needed to recollect her submissive act. “PLEASE don’t stop, Clavis. Please?”

I was more than happy to oblige her eager entreaty. She was scrumptious when she acted like this: wanton for me to fill her, but pliant enough to go along with my schemes. I was rock-hard already, my already tight white pants made all the tighter.

“Mm-hm, you asked so nicely. I suppose I could continue.” I rested my gloved hand on her soft bottom, to hint at what was coming. “This next part may be a little intense, darling. So please remember to use the safe-word if you need me to stop. Okay?”

She meekly answered, “Yes, Clavis, I understand.”

“That’s my girl.” I began slowly tapping her butt cheeks lightly, alternating randomly between sides. Then increased the tempo. Then the force, just a bit.

Her ass was slightly pink. Like a peach. Mmmm… so juicy, I could take a bite of that velvety flesh. Fuuuuuck, I want her now.

No.

Not yet.

I removed my gloves and ran my hands soothingly over the skin, reveling in the warmth and softness, trying to rein myself in.

She hadn’t made a sound until my bare palm met her skin – that’s when Emma gave a happy fluttering sigh, like the releasing of doves.

Oh, my sparkling jewel. My beautiful bride-to-be. My everything. How can one exhale from you do such things to my soul?

I took a deep breath and pulled my hand back, aiming for the next series of spankings. Each got progressively harder and closer to her center, near her lips. Droplets of clear nectar dotted the pillows beneath her. It coated my hand more and more as I slapped her pussy. But still she only moaned. She gave no signs of pain or reaching her limit. Marvelous.

I stopped to wipe my sticky hand on a towel, rewarding her with a low-pitched “You’re such a good girl for me. Now, I’ll need you to count each spank, okay? Can you do that for me?”

There was an immediate nod and “Yes, Clavis!”

Again, my domineering posing was protected by her not seeing the big smile I wore. Honestly, I don’t think she had ever been this complaint before. And she seemed so happy to be in this role!

I decided to leave that pondering for a later time, as there was a perky red ass waiting to be slapped right now. I picked up the paddle, and slowly sounded out several hits to the globe of her cheeks, sweeping upwards to channel the force away. She counted as each one turned her skin darker, making it glow with heat.

I stopped my motions, using the cashmere to soothe her inflamed ass and offer a change in sensation.

“Very, very good, dearest.” I picked up an ice cube as I asked, “Now, time for more feedback. Which of these experiences did you like best?”

As if to remind her of where we started, I slid the ice over her buttocks to cool them down. She gasped and shrieked almost in the same breath, jerking her hips at the cold sensation. I kept the ice moving quickly, so as to disperse as much healing coolness as possible. It melted within seconds.

God, her cheeks were red and taut like a ripe plum. She looked good enough to eat.

Ah … That was an excellent idea.

It might be slightly ahead of schedule, but I needed to do SOMETHING to clean up that rivulet running down her inner thigh before it completely drenched the pillows.

She hadn’t answered my question yet.

Hm.

I knelt on the bed behind her and between her legs, gently spreading her thighs with my hands, getting ready to tease her entrance with my tongue as soon as she started speaking.

“Tsk, tsk, I asked a question. You need to answer. Now.”

Emma began, “Well, I re–EEEE! Ah, mmmm!”

I had lapped ravenously at her juices, rejoicing at the lewd sounds it made. And at her own vocal additions, too, of course. I loved her squeals, her moans, her gasps, her groans.

I pulled away just long enough to give her a warning, the hungry growl in my voice not intentional, “Answer, Emma,” before diving back in to finish cleaning her up.

I could get drunk on how she tasted, how she smelled. The musky fragrance filled my lungs. How much longer could I hold out before needing to have her?

She managed to eek out a few words, no semblance of formal sentence structure to be found. Something along the lines of, “Commands. You, your touch. With orderssss. ….f-force me. Love spanking. Pleeeeease, please…. More, more control.”

Those were the words I was able to make out between the whines.

Hm.

She wants to be controlled more? That fit well into my next set of plans.

I petted her hair fondly as I gave her time to come down from the stimulation. “Very well, my lovely fiance. You’ve done so well for me. I think you’re liking this, aren’t you?”

She turned her head my way and dared a glance up. I knelt next to the bed so she wouldn’t have to strain her neck to see me. Her face was beet-red, eyes moist and dreamy, a sleepy smile on her lips. She had caught her breath by now.

“I am. Oh, I am, Clavis. But …” She bit her lip, eyes sliding away from mine.

I knew that look. I LOVED that look. She wanted something, but was feeling foolish for asking. I wanted to pull the truth out of her. Tease it gently, unravel it thread by thread until her innermost wishes were laid bare, safe and vulnerable in my hands.

I began to stroke her hair again, and her eyelids immediately fell shut in contentment. Soft as a summer breeze, I asked “But what, my love? You must tell me, or I’ll never know.”

Her relaxed features twisted suddenly in annoyance, eyes no longer moony but now flashing with sparks. I stopped petting her, doing my best to keep a look of total innocence on my face.

Of course I knew what she wanted.

I wanted it, too.

But not yet.

…Not. Yet.

“Clavis. I want you to make love to me. You already know; I said it before. Please? Don’t … don’t make me ask for it again.”

“Ohhhh, that. Hm,” my tone was non-committal, teasing. I leaned in to kiss her temple, smiling where she couldn’t see me. “Don't worry, I will satisfy you completely. In due time, in due time. But before that can happen, there are just a few more experiences I need you to have, and then review.”

I was being an absolute villain. I was pushing the bounds of her patience.

Would she angrily stomp out of here, cursing my name?

Or would she remain, but grow sullen and cold to my touches?

A plaintive whine left her throat, surprising me. Emma's gaze smoldered, the fiery frustration giving way to a simmering desire. And there was something else in her face … was it uncertainty? She reached out to grip my wrist, a silent request.

What was this about? Was she unwell after all? For a moment, my mask slipped. Concern pinched my brows. My voice was naked, forgetting to dress up in neither dominance nor feigned innocence, “Emma? Are you really okay with continuing?”

She must have sensed my seriousness, because she squeezed my wrist in reassurance before letting go as she nodded. “Yes, truly. I’m sorry if I made you worry. I only whined because … because I am so SO ready for you, and I don’t want to wait any longer. But most of all, I don’t want to beg. And it … it feels like you are pushing me to the brink in hopes of making me beg, like I’m some dog,” her pretty mouth turned down in disgust, “Is that what you are doing? Please, be honest, just this once, no tricks. What is your aim in all these sexy experiments?”

Ah.

So this is something new I have learned about her. Fascinating.

“Sweetest. Darling. I admit I am trying to find out your limits for certain things, but not the boundary you’d cross for begging. My aim, hm? I promise I’ll tell you when all the tests are done. So you keep your pleas unspoken, I do not want you to beg. I only want your honest reactions. I won’t leave you unfulfilled.”

“Promise? I feel like you’re teasing me much more than usual.” A pout began to form on her luscious lips.

“I promise.” I brushed a damp strand of hair behind her ear and pressed another kiss to her temple before standing up. “Now, let’s have you sit up so I can put one little thing on you before you lie on your back.”

My goodness, what a glorious sight.

Was there any man on this earth as lucky as me, to be blessed with seeing his lovely lover trussed up, spread out, and waiting in complete trust? I stood back to take in the full view, and swallowed hard.

I had taken great delight in lacing her up in the custom-made corset, seeing the leather pulling taut against her breasts. Her wrists were back in the cuffs, attached to the headboard. One leg was bent at the knee, pulled back as far to her torso as was comfortable, and then bound in that position with the lavender rope. Her other leg was restrained at a similar angle in a white leather straps to match her cuffs (a gentleman makes sure his lady’s accessories always match), clipped to the rings in the side of her corset.

It was an uncoordinated sort of look, more slap-dash than I had originally planned. Also, I was irked at not getting to try out the nipple clamps, but they wouldn’t work at the same time as having her wear the corset.

Was I rushing the schedule?

Perhaps.

Was I loading up all the implements and toys in one go, instead of one at a time like I had originally planned?

Maybe.

Was it because I was hanging on to my self-control by a thread?

Yes.

Yes, absolutely.

I had been straining at the front of my trousers so tightly that I decided to remove them and everything else I was wearing.

“Comfortable, darling?” I asked as I walked around to the head of the bed once more. Emma eyed my erection greedily, licking her lips.

But she only said, “Yes, Clavis.”

Her voice was sweetly obedient. The sound of it made me proud enough to crow from the rooftops.

“Then let’s begin our last set of experiences. You asked for me to be even more controlling, so that’s exactly what I’ll be doing. Don’t forget to use the safe-word if you need to. Do keep in mind that I will be asking for feedback. So try to keep track of how everything I do makes you feel.”

I kissed her full on the mouth quickly – too quickly so she wouldn’t have time to reciprocate – then gave her a cheeky wink before strolling to the foot of the bed, where I had a tray waiting with lube and various toys, plugs, dildos, and vibrators.

Choices, choices.

Where to start?

I looked adoringly at the two holes presented to me: one inviting and glistening, the other shy and puckered closed. Hidden at the top of this sight was the precious little rosebud that led to the high-pitched squeals I loved so much.

Deciding to start out slow with minimal invasion, I lubed up the tiny anal probe vibrator and smeared a dollop at the entrance of her ass. I felt her shiver at the touch, yet I pushed in slowly, slowly with the tip of my finger until it was finally granted at admittance. Emma gasped. I slid the probe in next to my finger until it was all the way in where it needed to be. Then I moved my finger in and out slowly a few times to help that area relax, to get her familiar with the sensation.

When I pulled my finger out, I pressed a lubed-up anal plug to the entrance until it sunk in. There came a tiny groan from my lady love. The facets of the princess-cut amethyst at the end of the plug caught the light and twinkled at me. I couldn’t help but smile with satisfaction at the view. I decided right at that moment to buy her matching amethyst earrings made with the same exact cut. It would be our own little private joke when she wears them in public.

“Turning it on, my dove,” I crooned a warning before toggling the switch on the probe.

“Huh? Turning wha–aaAHH!” Her hips jolted off the bed as soon as the vibrator went to work in her pert little asshole.

Miniscule moans were uttered from the head of the bed as I began to prepare the next toy: a dildo with a harness that connected to her corset rings to keep in place, so it wouldn’t get pushed out in her exertion. It was needed since my hands would be busy elsewhere. No lube was needed for this one; she was already wet enough to have a pool gathering on the purple towel underneath her. I rubbed the head and shaft along her folds, coating it in her essence.

This earned an audible inhale from her; does she know how her sounds drive me mad with lust?

I pushed it in slowly, letting her adjust to the size. It was another custom-designed item, made especially for tonight. She hadn’t seen this dildo before, but if she had there would have been recognition in the length and girth, even the slight angle. Of course it was a product of my ego. But if she was going to have anything inside her besides me, then I wanted to be like me in every way possible.

Once it was in all the way up to the hilt, I pulled it out at a lazy drag asking, “Still feeling fine, sweetest?”

“Uh-huh,” she confirmed while wiggling her hips to bring back some friction. The restraints of leather and rope made this futile effort extremely entertaining. I gave her what she wanted: I thrust the toy in and out repeatedly at her favorite pace. The languid moans rose in frequency and pitch.

God, she was magnificent.

I. Needed. Her. Now.

I held onto my sanity long enough to thrust it in one last time before attaching it to the harness. A questioning whine came from her throat as she saw me move to the side of the bed with the tray. From her vantage point, she wouldn’t be able to see the vibrators I was going to use.

Okay, time to get into the role, Clavis.

You can do this.

This is the last big hurrah. Time to finish things up exactly how she’d like. With complete control.

I wonder: when she asked me to take more control, did she have any premonition that I’d be ending the experiment with edging and orgasm control?

I began to tease her clit with the lowest setting on the most gentle toy. Switched over to a powerful wand for an intense but short time. Then switched to an intermediate one, moving all the way through the speeds, gauging her reactions. I was careful to keep an ear to her breathing while watching the telltale signs of her hips.

All the while I was changing the toys to keep her on her toes, I was issuing commands. Things like: countdown from 5, stay silent, moan loudly, scream my name (that one was fun), keep still, don’t you dare cum yet, etc.

Each time she obeyed, I rewarded her with a “good girl” and a deep kiss. Sometimes I just kissed her through the exquisite trials of a particular vibrator. Other times I slowly massaged her sensitive bundle of nerves with my thumb, sometimes my tongue. I lavished attention on that treasure until her chest was heaving with exertion and the breathing was ragged.

I had lost count of the times I brought her almost up the edge and then brought her back down.

I moved all the vibrators aside and sat on the edge of the bed so she could see my face.

This goddess, this angel, was mine. Completely mine.

Sweat-soaked face, eyes glazed over with lust, lips dry from panting, hair a total mess.

She had never been lovelier.

And never once did she beg. No plea of “Just let me cum!” There had been plenty of cursing and saying my name as if it was a curse itself. Lots of delicious moaning, gasping, squealing, and sighing. But no begging.

Amazing. My Emma was simply amazing.

I let her catch her breath before I reached out to cup her cheek and ask, “Now, if you please, I would like some feed-”

…”CLAVIS.” Her hoarse voice was serious. As were her eyes.

I stopped talking immediately, my attention entirely on what she thought was important enough to interrupt our review. My elegant eyebrows lifted in silent inquiry.

“No feedback,” was all she said.

I echoed her, asking “No feedback?”

“No feedback,” she repeated.

“Care to elaborate, dearest?” I cooed while stroking the side of her face with my thumb.

“No.”

I started to panic a little. She hadn’t used the safe-word, so I had thought she was enjoying being endlessly edged to hell and back. Had I been wrong? Had I missed a cue? Did I hurt her, and she was just being brave? Was she angry with me?

Something resembling concern must have made it through my mask of dominance, for she sighed and added, “I’m not injured or sore. Maybe a little overstimulated. But I’m fine. I would have used the safeword if I had been unsure about continuing. So don’t look so worried, Clavis.”

Ah.

…okay.

I was flummoxed as to what made her so taciturn all of a sudden.

“You want your feedback, don’t you? Then you’ll get it. But only after you satisfy me.” That severe expression held no room for compromise.

I loved seeing her so serious. She was breathtaking. How I loved her!

As my lips began to curl into a pleased smile, she cut in with a demand of her own: “Fuck me, Clavis. Now.”

My smile froze.

Great heavens, she was irresistible like this.

I felt compelled to obey, even though I had been the one issuing commands all day. I attempted to remain smooth and masterful as I lowered my face within inches of hers.

Feigning nonchalance, I said, “I suppose I could make a compromise, since my lovely fiance is so desperate for me.”

She rolled her eyes, quirking her mouth into a wry expression. “Well, get on with it. I’m … I am – ugh, Clavis, don’t you … ?“

I forstalled her fumbling words by pressing a kiss to those pouting lips, giving her time to gather her words. Would she beg, I wonder?

At last she mumbled, “I need you. Don’t you … need me, too? Or is this teasing torture all you want?” Those tender eyes slid away from mine, downcast.

Arrows. To the heart. A barrage of steel-tipped bolts lodged in my chest, stealing my breath.

Oh, my precious. Had I made you doubt my desire for you?

She hadn’t begged or bargained after all. She hadn’t needed to. Not that I ever wanted her to. That hadn’t been my goal.

My goal.

Oh.

In the delicious taunting and torment, I had almost lost sight of why I started all this.

I wanted to find out her secret kinks, her guilty pleasures.

Sighing an apology, I hurriedly kissed her lips. “No, no, my sweetheart, my dove, my everything. Of course I need you. I’m sorry. The –”

–” then why –” she began.

I immediately rushed in with the explanation she deserved, – “because I wanted to discover what set you aflame. You already know I’m crazy about your thighs. And well, everything about you, truly. And you know all my weaknesses. You know how to drive me wild. I feel at your mercy every time we are in bed. I … I simply had to find at least one of your fetishes, a kink, a secret touch or toy that made you lose yourself to me the way I feel helpless around you.”

There.

I had come clean.

I feared she would laugh, even though I knew my darling would never ridicule me when I was laid vulnerable to her like this.

And yet.

I was scared anyway.

I felt more naked than I actually was. Like my chest was open, heart exposed.

“Ohhhh. Clavis.” Her sympathetic sigh was balm to my nerves. My name on her lips was full of love and acceptance. Not a scrap of judgment or mocking was present.

She began to reach her hands to me, forgetful of their bondage. The clanking metal of the cuffs’ links jangled me out of my self-pity, reminding me to school my features into something less pathetic.

“Let’s get you out of these, hm? I think the sexy experiment is over. It yielded no results.” I attempted to sound like my usual self as I unclasped the leather restraints from the headboard.

“You’re wrong, honey. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.” The sultry smile on her face grew.

I simply blinked at her while I undid the buckles to free her wrists.

Emma continued, “Perhaps the feedback wasn’t what you expected. But I could have told you what you wanted to know without going to all the trouble.”

Hmmm?? What was this?

She bit her lip slyly before adding, “Not that I didn’t like the, um, experiments. It was a fun and new experience with you.”

I kept silent, but nodded to encourage her to continue. What was she going to divulge?

I moved to the foot of the bed to undo the ropes on one leg and the leather straps on the other as she spoke.

“None of those toys or equipment were something that unlocked a new deviant side of myself. There was no one particular place you touched or action you did that wasn’t more special or spicy than the others. But there was one constant throughout the entire adventure that kept me aroused more than anything else.”

After I tossed the rope and restraints to the floor, I noticed the imprints left behind. Little lines indented her supple skin. My fingers traced them gently, lovingly. Her thighs were like a canvas for the rope patterns. I was relieved to see there were no angry red marks. I kissed the trail of criss-crossing marks, reveling in the softness of her glorious legs.

She paused, as if waiting for me to give her my full attention. I rose from my worship of the world’s most perfect thighs and asked, “Oh? You’re giving me feedback after all? Lucky me. Do go on,” I purred as my palms glided from her hips to her knees.

“It was how you acted. You were still Clavis. The Clavis I love. But you were also … more. Different. It was the domineering act you put on. The way you commanded me to do or not do something. I loved submitting to your orders. I … I enjoyed putting myself completely in your control. Because I trust you. And because it felt exhilarating to be at the whims of a man who usually is out of control.”

She giggled, giving me a knowing look. It was the truth. I didn’t interrupt her to say she was wrong.

Emma went on, “You are chaos incarnate, sweetie. Your political plans are masterful, but your outward attitude is so flippant, so unpredictable, that nobody realizes how dastardly clever you truly are. But today you behaved differently. You were so sure of yourself. Sure of what reactions you wanted to pull out of me. And that was what put me into a frenzy more than anything. It was seeing you execute whatever plan you had in mind, and entrusting myself to your care. Because I love you and I know you would never hurt me.”

My mouth had gone dry and I realized at some point my hands had stopped their trek across her sumptuous legs.

The full impact of what she said was still hitting me: None of the bondage gear or implements or sensation tricks I used were effective at uncovering a new kink.

It had been me! And her! It had been the Dom/sub roleplay that had been at the heart of her arousal this whole time.

I almost laughed out of sheer exhaustion at realizing that we hadn’t needed any of the periphery, not a single whip or blindfold or toy.

All we needed was the two of us.

“It’s you. You’re my kink.” Her sheepish words echoed my thoughts. “There’s your feedback. Now. Ahem. Clavis, I believe you were FINALLY about to fuck me, right?”

“One hundred percent correct, my lovely lover. But first let’s get this off you. I don’t want anything between us.” I made fast work of the buckles on the front of her corset.

Taking into account how tired and sensitive she was from all my previous ministrations that day, I didn’t over-exert our love-making. That first time, at least. The rest of the weekend was full of intense, laborious exercise in bed. I gave in to every one of her whims and requests.

On our final afternoon in the manor, Emma slid off of me, panting, before she caught her breath enough to speak her mind. It somehow flowed from the conversation we had had on that very first day of the experiment.

“No one gives you enough credit for all the effort and intellect. You keep your brainpower too well hidden, and it frustrates me that people don’t appreciate how smart and resourceful you are. Do you know how it feels to have everyone think I love a fool? How it feels to have everyone look at my husband-to-be like he’s just some weird idiot, instead of the intelligent and caring and amazing man he is inside? Do you? I don’t think you do, sweetie. It’s infuriating. And you never correct them!”

“Heh. And neither will you. Ever. I prefer it that way. And you know why.”

She did. And it set my heart aflame to know that she understood my wiles and reasons, yet still got angry on my behalf.

Oh, darling. I don’t deserve you.

Knowing that she adored my hard work and brains was enough to spark a dozen new ideas for the next time we had a weekend away.

She loved my cunning. And my cunnilingus. I would put both to work next time, along with that domineering side that drove her wild.

I grinned wickedly.

She saw it, and responded with a wicked smile of her own. “Uh-oh, what does THAT look mean? You look positively villainous… I love it.”

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

AUTHOR’S NOTES:

😏 I’m curious to see what the readers think their safe-word is? Comment or reblog with your idea! I can’t wait to see what you guess! Hee hee!!! 😘

I don't usually write in first-person PoV. But for some reason when I started this, Clavis INSISTED he be the one to speak. The words must come from his mouth and not from a disinterested observer. Pfft. Okay, pal. Man, he can be pushy. And he's SO GOOD at getting his way!!

Kokoro! Bryn had mentioned you said “It’s Valentine’s Day, I want them to fuck!” 😏🤣 LOLOLOL And here I realized by the time the D/s scenario had wrapped up, Clavis still hadn’t DONE THE DEED. 😳🥹 Ack! I’m sorry! 🙈🙃😅 It was implied that they did, indeed, fuck several times during their weekend away. But I didn’t have time to write it all out. I’m sure the scenes would be far more delicious and steamy in your imagination than I could put them into words. So please visualize to your heart’s content! 😈😉

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hanasnx · 1 year

Text

comfort

summary: unfortunately, han can be insensitive. good thing he knows just how to calm you down as soon as he figures out he messed up.

character(s): han solo x reader

word count: 0.7k

notes:

this was stuck in my head like you wouldn’t believe. i’m still trying to find han’s voice & this was my way of practicing. i have been watching a lot of clips of harrison ford when he was young from movies like american graffiti & i just spiraled

this is lowkey based off of a scene from a movie called “the other woman” i think

look it’s my first han piece

warnings: like i said, han being insensitive. like not even really angst tbh, established relationship, size difference, gender neutral reader, han doesn’t know how to apologize in the healthiest way i guess but he sure tries. so hurt/comfort??? angst/fluff?? please im a smut writer. this is not my expertise

Sometimes he doesn’t realize how harsh he comes off. He’s such a sweetheart when he wants to be, but there are the weak occasions when he’s so painfully blunt that it pierces you. Especially because you care so much about what he thinks.

Perhaps it was one of his famous tongue-in-cheek moments, his specific brand of humor— that if you’re not careful enough, will go right over your head— but you’d already had such a difficult day. Things had gone wrong left and right, and unknowingly, your lover only exacerbated it.

You tune back in to the conversation, just in time to hear him say: “… maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass long enough, you’d realize Feng Shui’s bullshit.”

There’s a deep lurch inside of you, that tugs at your heartstrings and tears well in your eyes. Silence that causes him to glance at you only to return to his work at the wires hanging from an open panel in the wall of the Falcon. “It’s a waste of time.” he adds, as if his opinion needs more evidence to back himself up.

The tools you held for him feel cold and heavy, and you clutch them to focus on something else other than crying. Your breath quickens as you form your next words. “That’s… you know—“ Hot tears spill down your cheeks, and in your frustration you throw down his apparatus with a clatter. The noise alerts him, as well as the possibility they’d land on his feet, flinching; he lays his bewildered eyes on you, intent to see for himself what exactly your problem is. Your voice twists, heightening in pitch, throat aching from choking back a sob. “I don’t make fun of your things, but as soon as I have something—“

“—Baby, baby—” he’s swift to comfort, soothing you with his voice, and reaching out for you with his large hands, resting on your upper arms.

“—I like Feng Shui it teaches you to make the most use of your space—“ you speak over him defensively, afraid if you didn’t blurt it out that you’d cry too hard to finish what you had to say.

“—Sweetheart, listen,” Finally your eyes meet his as he cups your face, collecting your streamline of tears on the meat of his thumbs, soft lips pecking yours to coo and pacify you to reticence. Suddenly you’re aware of how predictable you are to him as he draws you into his chest— disregarding your uncertain resistance— wrapping his thick arms around you. His chin sits atop your head. “I’m sorry, kid, I didn’t mean it.”

As much as you want to fight it out, find an excuse to release your pent up anger, you relax as you always do, breathing in his scent. An apology is not a gift you hear regularly from Han. Once again, he seamlessly comforts you. Brings you back from the edge. You fist his shirt, sniffling softly, and once he’s sure you’ve accepted him, his warm body curls around you, stooping to press you as close as possible, so his cheek lays on your forehead.

As easy as lulling a baby to sleep, he rocks you in place, swaying you right into complacency, and you let go of your argument. “You’re right about it, you’re right. I don’t know what I’m talking about.” he murmurs.

You sniff, and guide him from you; since you’ve calmed down, he gingerly releases you.

Tilting his head at you, he brings his hand up from your back to wipe the wetness of your crying with his knuckles. Dabbing under each eye gently, and flicks your chin up so you look at him.

Cautiously, as if afraid he’d set you off again, he peers at you through his brows. “You okay, kid? We good?”

You press your lips together and nod, raking a hand through your hair to get it out of your face, eyes falling to the floor in shame. So he inclines to catch your gaze, he’s not going to let you get away with that. “I wanna hear you say it, princess.”

“Yes, yes. I’m good, we’re good. It, uh, just got away from me, is all.” you toss at him, convictionless, hoping to get along with it.

Searching for the truth, he idles, eyes boring into yours. A good natured pat onto your upper arm and he retracts from you fully to return to his work. “Alright. Hand me that wrench, will ya?”

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corellianhounds · 2 months

Text

“Kill Your Darlings” to Streamline Your Story

Criticism of “The Gathering Storm” in The Book of Boba Fett

Word Count: 1,643

—

I mentioned here that “Kill your darlings” is editing advice that means to cut out something you as the writer really enjoy in a story in order to make the story stronger. If cutting something out makes your story better by clarifying something, narrowing the focus, reinforcing character or plot objectives, bettering the pacing, raising the stakes, or by clearing up valuable space wasted on something we don’t need to see, cut it out.

I think TBoBF suffered from a lot of weak writing choices, and in order to streamline the story a bit some of those characters, visual elements, scenes, or chunks of the script have to go. There’s too much “stuff” happening but not a lot of story, and the script itself isn’t all that interesting to listen to in the first place; a lot of lines just state the obvious or are clichéd and overdone jokes, and there is also a lot of exposition given in monologues vs the audience seeing the story play out for itself.

In a show with only seven episodes, they don’t have time to dwell on anything that doesn’t directly add to Boba’s main plot or character arc, the parts of the world he is operating in, and the other main characters relevant to that story. Though there are other examples, I think a concise example of one of the biggest wastes of space is episode 4, “The Gathering Storm.” Three-fourths of that episode is a loooong long flashback to Boba’s team-up with Fennec, which doesn’t tell us anything new about the characters or the world. The things the flashback tells us are:

Fennec Shand was brought back to life aided by cybernetics (Which was established in a few lines of dialogue in “The Tragedy” of season 2 of The Mandalorian)

Boba formed a partnership with Fennec Shand (Which was established in “The Tragedy” of season 2 of The Mandalorian)

Boba got his ship back (Which was established in “The Tragedy” of season 2 of The Mandalorian)

Boba was searching for his armor (Which was not only foreshadowed in a three second wordless scene in “The Marshal” in season 2 of The Mandalorian, but was established and resolved in “The Tragedy” of the same season)

Boba and Fennec took over Jabba’s Palace (Which was not only more effectively conveyed in a two minute credits scene of the previous season of The Mandalorian, but is also the establishing circumstances of the show we are currently watching)

You see what I’m getting at?

The audience already knows cybernetics exist in this world, and that they are relatively quick, effective, and easily accessible. There is also zero tension in seeing a character come back to life in a flashback when we are watching a show where that character is already alive, and whose presence was also established in a previous season. We don’t need to see Boba get his ship back because we as the audience know Boba Fett is a capable person, so him simply showing back up in a previous season with it doesn’t really have us scratching our heads as to how it was achieved. We don’t learn anything new about his and Fennec’s relationship since we can already tell Fennec doesn’t have a problem working for him and he already treats her as his equal and partner. We don’t need to see the layout of the palace, we don’t need to see them defeating a couple of nobody droids, we don’t really need to see Boba bonding with the bantha, we don’t need the cybernetic mod-parlor, and tbh we don’t really need to see him destroy the Sarlacc.

The only new information the flashback provides is that Boba used the ship to get revenge on the Nikto speederbike gang he thinks killed the Tuskens. In my opinion, the Niktos should have been cut out entirely and more importantly, the Tuskens should have still been alive up until the episode where Cad Bane reveals himself to Boba, and Bane then makes a comment to the effect of “It sure would be a shame if something happened to those closest to you,” which makes Boba realize his tribe could be in danger. That puts the action in the present and presents a physical and emotional obstacle for Boba to overcome.

Boba immediately flies out to either warn them or verify for himself if they are in danger, leaving the Palace defense weakened to the point the Pykes or whoever they hire can attack while Boba is away. They don’t even have to deceive him and cast blame elsewhere, having already murdered the tribe to get back at him and send a message. He already has beef with the Pykes, and they are using this attack against what he holds most dear as their means of weakening, if not destroying him. Get him out of the palace, divide and conquer his defenses while he’s gone, and cause a serious emotional blow to Boba right when they are on the precipice of war, making him emotionally unstable and more likely to be reckless or distracted as a result of the provocation, thus easier to defeat. They can also be gambling on that anger being enough to push Boba over the edge and have him resort back to his more ruthless past self as a killer, gunning down anybody who would stand in his way on his warpath back to the Pykes, which breaks down the reputation he’s been trying to build being a leader based on having people’s respect, not fear. Then he would have nobody backing him up and he truly would be fighting alone.

Going back to Boba and Fennec, anything they wanted to explore concerning their character dynamics should have been done in the present timeline. Don’t tell the audience “These two are on good terms” and then have zero conflict OR growth between them— Show the audience how these characters interact within the conflicts presented and how their relationship develops in the present.

Something they could have done to strengthen Boba’s character, develop his relationship with Fennec, and consolidate extraneous characters and scenes into stronger ones is if Boba had been the one to save Fennec’s life directly. Cut out the cybernetic mod-parlor and have Boba recognize Shand and drag her back to his own base of operations he established after leaving the Tuskens. Show me Boba doing the work patching her up, Fennec gasping back to life and demanding to know what happened and where she is, and now you’ve given her character a reason to feel even more indebted to his service. You can then go two ways with their relationship, either with a sense of friendship and camaraderie, both with similar pasts as hunters for hire and both barely escaping the brink of death, OR give them just a bit of conflict and tension, Fennec not liking the fact she feels indebted to Boba for saving her life, and now being forced into a sedentary life that puts her at risk of enemies being more readily able to find her.

Then we can move forward in the present with a number of different possibilities. Fennec should have been serving in the background undercover instead of the foreground anyway, keeping her role as a stealth expert going and adhering to her demand that Boba keep her presence a secret for her own safety and discretion. You could have Fennec resentful of the fact she has to rely on Boba to modify her cybernetics, making her feel further indebted to him while also giving her a weakness she has reason to keep hidden from others. Fennec is not someone who likes to rely on people, a character trait that is paralleled in Boba. All of that would have given her more depth and meat to her role, providing a solid objective for what that character wants within this story. (As the show stands right now, Fennec is static without her own character arc or change throughout the show. She’s more of a yes-man to Boba, a capable character who can accomplish what the plot needs to happen, but not really that interesting to follow on her own because Fennec is established to be content to go along with whatever. She does cool stuff, but it’s more like watching an action figure and less like seeing a character develop.)

Making Boba responsible for saving Fennec also means we could have had his relationship with Cobb Vanth come full circle at the end; instead of simply providing the bacta to heal Vanth, the end of the season should have been Boba personally being the one to fulfill the debt he feels toward the people of Mos Pelgo and the marshal by tending to the marshal himself.

Vanth was Mos Pelgo’s primary defense, he was shot by Boba’s primary emotional and physical antagonist, and he was mortally wounded because he no longer had his biggest defensive advantage: the very armor Boba now has back in his possession that the marshal gave up to Mando in season 2. Cad Bane went out to Mos Pelgo after the people there were contacted as backup for Boba’s conflict, and the people of Mos Pelgo showed up in the fight at the end because of their marshal, not because of Fett. Their presence meant Fett was able to succeed however, and Fett is also not someone who likes being indebted to people. Him doing the actual work the cyberneticist was there for at the end would have further reinforced Fett being somebody now who helps the people who could not or cannot defend themselves. It directs the story’s focus back to him and cuts out extraneous side characters and gives these characters’ relationships a lot more weight, actually threading these individuals together while simultaneously reinforcing Boba Fett as a capable, resourceful, interesting, and meaningful character.

#The Book of Boba Fett #Boba Fett #Fennec Shand #Cobb Vanth #hounds speaks #TBoBF crit #storytelling

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marvelouslizzie · 1 year

Text

better then I imagined | matt murdock x jennifer walters | one shot

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Jennifer Walters

Word Count: 1.2K

Synopsis: Matt and Jen try something new, and Jen isn't a brat for the first time. It's hard at first, but Matt teaches Jen that patience is a virtue.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, dom!Matt Murdock, sub!Jen Walters, established relationship, light bratting, teasing, fingering, unprotected rough sex

A/N: All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated.

Jen has no idea how she ended up in this situation. She lays on her stomach with a pillow under her. She feels wholly exposed, but it’s not because of the nakedness. It’s because her ass is entirely on display, but Matt can’t see this. Not directly. Not in detail. He can’t see how much the pillow raises her lower body. How it exposes her asshole and her pussy. Instead, he’s too busy pouring down the lubricant. So much of it. The dampness between her ass cheeks feels bizarre. Like it shouldn’t be there, but before she can make sense of it, another feeling takes over. The lubricant is slipping down slowly. It’s painfully slow, but it still doesn’t take long to reach the right places. From her ass to her center, slowly making its way to the clitoris. She takes a deep breath trying to calm herself down, yet it doesn’t help. The way the lubricant is slipping everywhere is all she can feel, all she can focus on. Instinctively, she moves her hips a little, trying to get a bit of friction, but all she feels is the cold air.

“Don’t move.” Matt’s voice is firm. His hand moves to her back, pushing her a bit down to the pillow, just to limit her movement. “Not yet.”

He’s doing absolutely nothing, except pouring more lubricant and trying to keep her still. Yet, Jen feels unbelievably turned on. She has no idea if it’s the wet feeling or Matt. Maybe both, she thinks.

“How long am I going to wait like this?” It comes out unintentionally bratty.

“As long as I see fit.”

“Maybe I should touch myself instead of waiting for the mood to strike.”

“No. You won’t do that.” He talks like he knows that for a fact. Like he already saw what happened in their future and Jen touching herself is not on the card.

“Why is that?”

Instead of answering, Matt moves his hands closer to her lower body, fingertips lightly touching her inner thighs. Jen takes a sharp breath while he moves his hands slowly and reaches the lips. She has no idea how his touch could be this light. It feels like a feather moving to her most sensitive parts.

“Because if you move, I won’t be touching you like this.”

“I- I need more than this.”

“I know and you will get it. If…”

“If?” Jen quickly asks. She has no patience left.

“If you listen and do what I say.”

“Which is…”

“For you to stay still.”

“Okay.” Jen’s response comes out a little weak.

“I couldn’t hear.” She knows it’s not true. She knows he can hear everything. Including how many breaths their neighbors took at the last minute.

“Liar.”

“This attitude won’t benefit you, Jen.”

“I know you can hear a random guy pouring a glass of water right now. Don’t tell me you didn’t hear me.”

“Okay.” He stops for a second. “I wanna hear you say it louder. How is that?”

“Okay.” She gulps. “I will do whatever you say.”

Matt hums, satisfied with her response. His fingers start to move again. Still slow, but it’s definitely better than nothing. Jen sighs with relief and Matt smiles. His fingertips move up and down, occasionally rubbing her clit. Every time she feels his touch there, she takes a deep breath. The anticipation is building in her stomach, in her muscles. While he keeps moving his fingers the same way, Jen involuntarily tries to feel more of his touch.

“Jen.” That’s all he says. Only her name, but she freezes.

“I’m sorry.” The response comes instantly and Jen doesn’t understand how he managed to make her get this mindset. Normally, she would be a brat even more, but now… she just wanted him to continue whatever he wants to do to her.

Her apology is enough for Matt. He continues to graze over her sensitive flesh and his slight movement gets a low moan out of her. She wants so much more than what he is giving her. Her body is craving his touch and as if he felt her need, he pushes one finger inside her.

“Oh!”

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes!” She answers so quickly while he keeps moving his finger inside and out. Just one finger, but after all that teasing, it feels so good to feel something inside her.

His pace is slow and steady. So it doesn’t take long for Jen to crave more, and the steady pace turns into torture. She wants to say something, but the need he created inside her keeps her on the edge. She lets out a frustrated breath and Matt takes the hint. Quickly but carefully he pushes the second finger inside her and Jen moans loudly.

“You are doing such a good job.” His praise is unexpected, but Jen welcomes it. It gives her the courage to finally speak.

“I need more.” It comes out like begging and it surprises Jen. Her own voice is so raspy and low.

“Since you are being such a good girl…” Matt considers her request. “Third finger or me?”

“You.”

“Very well.”

All Jen hears is the clink of a metal. That’s him, unbuckling his belt. Soon it’s followed by the sound of unzipping and then she hears him pushing down his pants.

Matt grabs himself and aligns his cock right at her center. He can already hear Jen's anticipation, the blood rushing, and the change in her breathing.

“Take a deep breath,” Matt advises and she immediately listens.

He moves the head of his cock a little, teasing her for one last time. Then he pushes inside her, in one swift movement. In a second, he’s completely inside, and Jen feels overwhelmed by the sudden fullness. A loud sound escapes her, but she has no idea if it’s a moan or a yelp.

“Are you okay?” Matt asks and she hears a little bit of concern in his voice.

“I am. Don’t worry."

“Are you sure?”

“Just move. Please.”

It’s Matt’s turn to obey. He doesn’t ask again. He doesn’t hesitate. It’s not slow anymore. It’s not steady. It’s needy and sloppy. Jen hears his low moans and smiles. Finally, she thinks. Finally, we are even. He quickly picks up the speed and their moans and loud breaths fill the room. Jen's body trembles with the impact of the approaching orgasm.

“I’m close,” Matt says right after feeling her.

“Me too.” She takes a deep breath. “Harder, please.”

His response is slamming himself inside her. The noise that comes out of Jen’s lips isn’t human. She cries out of pleasure and he just wants to hear it again. He pushes himself inside her once again and hears the same response. This new rough pace takes them to climax together. The pleasure is overwhelming, especially for Jen. All that teasing pays off when she cries out his name, gripping what’s near her. Matt’s fingers grab Jen’s hips, his nails digging into her skin while he spills inside her. He keeps moving slowly, riding out their orgasm together.

When they are both done, Matt falls on top of Jen, still inside her. They both continue to feel the orgasm running through their blood. He moves his head a little and leaves a kiss on her neck, rubbing his nose against her skin.

“Was it like you imagined?” Matt whispers in her ear.

“It was better than I imagined.”

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nebulacollege · 9 months

Note

is it perchance too early to ask who is fucking who... and maybe some notes/'headcanons' about these relationships? (it's your own ocs so they're not headcanons but idk how else to really express what I mean!)

That’s a good question, but such a difficult one... Nothing is certain and I’m not sure how well I’m going to follow what’s going to be written in this reply, so please forgive me!

I’d love to give you a Ryu’s more classical reply with headcanons, but even describing everything in more details takes so much time lol so this answer is just more detailed notes of their relationship.

One thing is sure though: the story is a harem story, and Edmund is the bottom bitch lol so the ships are: Niall/Edmund, Ned/Edmund, and Liam/Edmund. Let’s start with Niall.

Edmund doesn’t like Niall because he’s a fake ass bitch. He has a strong suspicion that Niall isn’t as perfect as he tries to make it look like, even though he doesn’t have any proofs. His popularity is annoying to him, and people who fall for it (like almost the entire school) seem dumb to Edmund - there is no way someone can be so perfect by using honest means.

Niall doesn’t like the fact that Edmund dislikes him so openly, so he tries to act twice as nice to him just to prove him wrong. That’s what he wants people to think. In fact, he’s quite annoyed by this attitude, so his extra attention to Edmund is also done out of spite – he knows how much Edmund dislikes being the centre of attention. Niall gets on his nerves while also looking like a helping hand to a lonely loser in the eyes of others.

So, Niall is bothering him from time to time under the disguise of caring for him, and Edmund wants nothing to do with him while being more open about his disdain.

Not very romantic, right? Their “love story” would depend on something that I’d rather not spoil, but this core basis would remain even if they start dating. Maybe their hate would become stronger, so they’ll have nice love-hate relationship, with the only love between them being passionate sex lol

Next is Ned/Edmund... They have the least thought out relationship, because I hope to write them as the story goes. They depend heavily on it, so there is no pre-established bias like with Niall, so it’s all vague, but their love is the closes one to resemble... well, love.

Ned is someone who is used to depend on a strong/weak division in his life, both in physical aspect and in terms of skills and personality traits. So to him, Edmund, who is quite lacking in all of those aspects, seems underwhelming at best and not very notable. However, this is the first time in his life when he might start thinking that all of this is kind of cute... only after talking enough times with Edmund and gaining sympathy for him.

Edmund has similar bias, but definitely not such a strong one – he’s going to get warmer much faster, and his idea of Ned being a dumb jock is going to disappear into thin air after a couple of conversations. As the chart suggests, he’ll think Ned is cute.

The thing is, when Ned does something, he does it on a big scale. So his love is also going to be extremely passionate, obsessive and... scary. The longer he’s in love, the more intense he and his feelings get. Even if Edmund loves him in return, Ned is overwhelming and doesn’t really listen to him all that well because of his controlling nature.

Liam is his own planet and Edmund is just “lucky” enough to stick around. Since Liam doesn’t like other people all that much, Edmund became his chosen friend by accident. I think Liam would mix their friendship and his sympathy for Edmund into this weird cocktail when they’re not dating, as Liam doesn’t care about dating, but Edmund would still get all the playful flirting (which he has already partially received when they were just friends) and enjoy the special treatment of “now everyone is suffering but you”.

Edmund, on the other hand, can’t tell what Liam is thinking at all, so him agreeing or disagreeing to certain things still can end in something entirely unpredictable. Liam doesn’t listen to him properly anyway. Liam’s physical touches feel very nice, but I think that Edmund’s mind, as well as his heart and his feelings towards Liam, would be a mess.

#nc replies #edmund weyton #ned stafford #liam vernetti #niall mccarthy

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dundunny · 1 year

Text

Gotham Knights

I’m still finishing up Batgirl’s story, but I beat Gotham Knights. I inevitably compare it to the Arkham series, especially considering it’s the same studio that did Arkham Origins, but really it should be its own standalone.

Let me start off by saying it’s not a bad game. The battle system is much smoother than Arkham’s, and there’s quite a bit of variety between the characters, whether it’s Batgirl’s devastating, hard-hitting blows, Red Hood’s instant-kill headshots, Robin’s ability to sneak and take down an area group of enemies before the battle even starts, or Nightwing’s flowing acrobatics. Everyone is well-rounded and I never felt that any character was the weak, useless one. It just depends on your playing style.

I’ve stated before my love is in the environments, and I like Gotham here. The map is on the borderline of being too big, but the developers managed to keep each neighborhood unique with enough landmarks that you’re usually pretty good on mentally figuring out your location. The area around Wayne Industries vs. Robinson Park vs. the industrial area around the Cauldron allows me to subconsciously tell where I am and the general direction of where I have to go. It’s equally fun to climb and jump over the rooftops as it is to drive through the streets with the motorcycle.

The story is solid and pays good homage to the Court of Owls introduction in the comics, although there are some flaws. Like, we’re arresting Kane? For what? We’ve already established the Court gets whomever they want out on appeal. And Judge Moreno may be willing to sign the warrant, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be the presiding judge for the trial. So that whole section of the plot was silly. However other than that, it’s great to see the team come together to try and figure out Batman’s last case. The maze scene in particular is quite poignant. It really portrays Dick and Tim’s insecurities well, and Jason’s fears of being a monster, and I nearly cried with Barbara when I played Montoya’s call to HQ that Gordon got shot.

And it’s nice to see the Batfam act like human beings to each other for once. Batman’s video recordings where he describes his inner feelings, fears, and joys is something you rarely see in the comics nowadays. (Major shout out to Batman’s VA Michael Antanakos. He’s not Conroy, but his crooning voice was very pleasant to hear.) Jason is in therapy and taking steps to move forward. Tim adores his siblings and likes hanging out with them. Barbara and Dick, although broken up, maintain a strong relationship. Particularly post game, if you just sit in the Belfry and listen to the conversations, you can tell they’re moving forward.

However I need to address the biggest problem: There aren’t enough villains, and to compensate for that the developers made the game repetitious. This game has Mr. Freeze, Clayface, Harley Quinn, and Talia al-Ghul, and you fight the first two twice. Let’s compare that to Arkham Knight, where you fight Azrael, Harley Quinn, Penguin, Deathstroke, Firefly, Deacon Blackfire, Hush, Professor Pyg, Two Face, Nyssa al-Ghul, Mad Hatter, Killer Croc, and Black Mask. And you also had very involved plots with the Riddler, Man-Bat, and Mr. Freeze. You’re so busy juggling all these enemies and subplots that there isn’t any reason to fight regular criminals out on the street. Not only does Gotham Knights require you to fight these random criminals over and over, 90% of the sidequests are basically grind quests. Oh what does Montoya need? For me to break up a criminal deal at the same parking lot I’ve broken up six criminal deals in the past? All right, time to make it a seventh. That’s not interesting. You know what is interesting? Boarding a blimp-prison after hearing Killer Croc got out, only to discover they’re hanging prisoners in cages on the ceiling. Or duking it out with the Mad Hatter in this crazy book wonderland. Or the visceral horror and feeling physically sick when you walk in on Professor Pyg and discovering what he was doing to all those people.

DLC was super lame too. Literally it’s just the same six rooms repeated for twenty-five levels with the same enemies until you get to the bottom and meet Starro. I was excited to fight him, but really it’s just fighting massive group of regular enemies, whom you’ve already beaten just to get here, as you escort Starro to prison. That example I gave in the previous paragraph about the blimp-prison? That was Arkham Knight DLC. Yeah, they definitely could’ve done better.

Besides that, I think one of the best parts of the Arkham series was overhearing conversations from the criminals in the streets. They were so funny and I would stop what I was doing just to listen to completion. Gotham Knights had potential considering this was the first game with normal civilians wandering around, but everything is just one-line quips. They need to get those writers from Arkham back. They definitely worked on Origins, so what happened?

With all my complaints I did enjoy it; after all I played it four times just to see all the cutscenes with each character. The main story is relatively short, I’d give it maybe ten hours, and including sidequests maybe fifteen to twenty. So if you’d like to have a pleasant weekend or two, I’d say try it. And honestly it’s worth it for this scene:

youtube

One question though: Was that lapdog alive, or was she petting a taxidermy?

#gotham knights #batman #nightwing #red hood #robin #batgirl

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clubatsumu · 2 years

Note

saw ur requests were open and wanted to maybe request smth w tsukishima or atsumu, like established relationship and (i'm searching but can't find the right word for it) boring? but like in a familiar and comforting way if you get what i mean? 😭 like yk that feeling u get sometimes where u feel like ur life is stuck at like this one point and u feel a weird need to have it be Exciting and Fun and Fast Paced! i forget often that you don't need to be constantly progressing to be satisfied

im so sorry this request got kind of rambly pls interpret this however u would like :)

(+i'm glad you're back on tumblr <3)

atsumu turns 29 and suddenly he’s domesticated. like an animal — he’d insist on tiger, but all his bravado really amounts to is the waddle of a fattened beagle.

you take home Fattened Beagle (literal) in question one day and Fattened Beagle (man) slams the door in your face with a look of disgust and an emphatic, solid, “no.”

you rap your fist on the door. your door. your door that is used in your house with your name on the lease. “but i already named him!”

“i’m not takin’ care of a dog!” atsumu replies from behind the wood and screen. “nothin’ good comes outta takin’ care of a dog.”

“oh, but i take care of you!”

that earns you a look at his face because he comes out to open his mouth. and before he can say anything, you bust out laughing. that sours his expression even more. you adjust Fattened Beagle in your hands, cradling it like a baby, presenting it like a prize — which it is. you smile, and then blink slowly, knowing he is weak and you are winning. “he was yaga-san’s. his name is haru.”

atsumu scoffs. “what a stupid name.”

you cover the beagle’s ears, which are large, you think with wonder. they’re large and flappy and floppy — like wings without any aeronautical structure. “don’t listen to the grumpy man, haru-chan.”

“you never call me atsumu-chan.”

oh, what a kid.

you kick the back of his knee. “because you’re not sweet.”

it proves difficult. you have to bend your ankle at a degree that pushes your foot back up your leg, then you have to go on your tiptoes because more than he’s tall, there’s also a two-step difference between the inside of the house and outside of it. atsumu yelps and trips a bit, genuinely -- not as an act -- and it’s all worth it.

“stop comparing me to the dog,” he grumbles.

“stop living in my house for free.”

“we’re married.”

you’re sure you’ll be greeted by a sock on the floor when you enter the house. a sock with a lost pair. everytime you ask him where the other one is, he shrugs like he isn’t the one responsible for where his feet go, why they aren’t going to places together. you let out a large sigh. “everyday i am reminded.”

atsumu is more disoriented than usual. he points at the dog. “how old is…”

you adjust him in your arms. “he’s two.”

he takes haru-chan from you, sensing your strained shoulders. he finally, finally let’s you in the house. and there is the sock. you bend to pick it up and toss it in the laundry room. “what did i tell you about --”

“i’ve always wanted a dog.” he cuts loudly, knowing where you’re about to go.

as planned, you lose your original train of thought. you nod, starting to smile again, forgetting all about the sock and starting to get excited because he’ll say yes to the dog. you haven’t even told yaga-san you’d take him for good, just out for a walk, knowing there’s a chance atsumu might say no. but if he says yes, you won’t complain. “i heard something along those lines as well.”

“you could have asked me before so we could’a picked one together.”

“i did.” you blink slowly, making your eyes large and innocent. “last night.”

“i was drunk," he deadpans.

“and you told me to get anythin’ i wanted, because you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. light and joy and happiness. darlin’! i would give you the sun if you asked for it!” you cough something raspy out of your throat. atsumu is unamused. you shake your head, leaning closer. “what did rin feed you last night?”

“no clue. something dark and fruity and disgusting. like we were still college students and shit.”

you scrunch your nose. “ew. how’d you get home?”

“cab. it was midnight and i didn’t want to wake you.”

“but you did.” it was hard not to wake up when the front door all but slammed on its frame. atsumu is a large man by anyone’s standards, and a large man stumbling up the steps isn’t exactly inspiring confidence when it’s dark out and past midnight.

so you grabbed your bat, and there he was in all his blond glory, smiling like a stupid idiot, ears red from the cold, in the hallway outside your room, murmuring declarations of love.

“i didn’t want you to drive out.” he tells you now. now that you can take a better look at him, he does look like he had a rough night. his sweatpants are hanging low on his hips, his shirt crumpled. his eyes are red and he looks pale. “anyway, this is what i get for going to suna’s birthday party. a stinky-ass dog. jesus.” he sniffs its belly, and haru-chan stays still. “ya ever heard of body spray? probably not. come on. out. let’s try to make you smell less like shit.”

“we’re takin’ the dog back to the pound.” he says later that night. he didn’t talk to you the whole day, even after you made him hangover soup, but you guessed that was just an aftereffect of everything related to Suna Rintaro’s Big Birthday Bash. but maybe not. you blink, looking at him from the bathroom mirror as he leans on the door behind you. “huh?” you effectively stop brushing your teeth. this is… a surprise.

“yeah. final.” he says in that clipped tone he seems to get on when he's pissed off or inside his head.

“oh.” your brows furrow. was he menstruating? because last you saw him, we was gushing over the dog -- practically drooling more than it was. how did it turn around this quickly? “um. okay.”

he leaves.

atsumu comes back a second later, stomping. “don’t think of wallowing.”

the fuck was he on?

he can be a little bitch all he wants, but really? really, you can do it better.

“i’m not,” you deny, starting to get pissed at the attitude, putting the cap back on your toothbrush with more force than necessary. “who said i was?” you move past him and out of the bathroom, and out of the bedroom in easy steps.

he follows you down the stairs. “where are ya goin’?”

“away from you.” you let the door slam as you go the the makeshift playpen he set up for the haru-chan in the garage.

“quit wallowing.”

“i’m not. i’m taking the dog back to the pound. like you said. final.” you stomp like he did. there is, admittedly, a fair amount of stomping in your house. annoyance starts from your gut and spreads to your spine, and now it is thrumming through your veins like a steady dose of adrenaline.

“quit bein' that way.”

“you quit being that way.” you swivel on your heels. “you’ve been mean to me all day. what’s wrong with you?”

“i didn’t want the dog.”

he could have started with that this morning. but he was grudgingly happy, you saw, so maybe this is about another thing entirely. “you’ve been with the dog all day!”

“well...”

“i got the dog for you ‘cause i knew you had one when you were a kid. osamu told me you loved dogs -- so i wondered -- sorry if i thought wrong--”

“you weren’t wrong.”

“we weren’t even supposed to keep him overnight. i had to text yaga-san to let me keep him for a bit longer because i’d told him i’d just take him out for a walk. but then you went off and bathed him and played with him all day, so of course i decided to just tell you tomorrow that the dog isn’t actually ours yet because you’re having a shit enough day as it is.”

you swear, the look on atsumu's face cannot be drawn or captured. it was pure distress and devasatation, curling the ends of his lips and drooping his ears. “so haru-chan isn’t really ours?”

you almost scratch your head in frustration. “i thought you wanted him back in the pound?”

“you brought home a dog that isn’t ours?” he repeats.

“i thought you’d turn him away if you really didn’t want him. but he was supposed to be a present if you did. so do you?”

“do i what?”

“want the dog.”

“no.” he answers.

you open your palms, gesturing at the dog he's cradling to his chest as it starts to bark at the commotion. “then give me the dog so i can give him back.”

“no.” he replies.

you gape. “what is going on with you?”

late -- later, he comes inside the room with silent steps, and you shuffle closer to your end of the bed. atsumu's footsteps aren’t the only ones there. he brought the beagle to your bedroom. the bed dips with a familiar weight along with something small and skittish, laying beside your back, between you and atsumu.

“i can’t hold my drinks anymore.” he says into the room, knowing you’re probably awake. probably. most likely.

okay, but what does it have to do with the dog?

“you never have.” you grumble.

“yeah, but... it’s -- rin’s still the same as he used to be. no care in the world. a fuckin’ airhead if there was one." he continues, “the younger players in the mix were all there... i’m getting closer to retirement.”

there it is. the real reason rears its head, sprouting from a mouth you wanted to punch so much earlier. all the fight and the annoyance flushes out of your body at hearing the word retirement, because no one said that word around atsumu the same way no one said the word fuck around a baby.

still -- you knew what you were dealing with when you married atsumu, all moods and barbs and blundering words. you love him for his sincerity, for his candor, for everything really. and putting up with you isn't an easy task either, you know all too well, but atsumu does it with genuine pleasure.

even if you saw him take his fears out on the dog, it's scary to realize you still love him the same. you love him differently than when you first met, and you know you'll love him differently ten years from now, but the only thing that's sure is that there will never come a day when you don't love atsumu.

and so, in the spirit of love, you forgive him even if his apology doesn't come in the form of a sorry.

“aren’t there forty year olds in your team?” you try.

“they’re all almost seven feet, so they can play until they’re eighty, probably. me? i can’t do that, babe. i need to be the fastest one on that court and i’ll be a whole lot slower soon. i can feel it. my legs'll be slower than my brain, my sets'll all turn to shit --”

“hey.”

“‘s true.”

“when do you plan on retiring? and you have a plan for it when it comes, i know.”

“never, i hoped. i was twenty-three when i last thought about it. six years flew by like nothin'. and i do have a plan, believe me, i just didn’t think i’d ever reach a point where i’d need it.”

the admittance settles between the two of you like an uncomfortable weight.

“and?” you prompt, knowing there's still something he hasn't said.

“i like it here.” he tells you. he looks at you as he does it, head turning on the pillow. you aren't quite sure what he means, so your brows furrow as you reply, “i’d hope so.”

“no, i mean — i’m satisfied here. with ya." he swallows. "if someone wanted me to pick between this and stayin’ twenty-three and invinsible forever, i’d pick this over and over again without blinkin’. and it’s scary, because my job -- it revolves around bein’ young enough and fast enough and -- this...”

it cleaves your chest, what he says. it makes it squeeze in a way only atsumu has the power to do.

“i know.” you nod. “i know.”

“the dog was the icing on the cake. i thought it last night, but this morning? when you were holdin' it? i swear i felt... like something's changed. something's been changing. and ya know how i am with that. i like this dog too much.” haru-chan sleeps between you. "and i always thought people who had dogs are... settled, ya know. secure. 's why i never got any in the past. who'd feed it at away games? what if it forgets my face?"

you let out a half-hearted smile. “i knew you liked it.”

“you mad?” he asks.

“no. you still have a few years left in you.”

“yeah. but -- if i’m not playing on that court, what am i really?”

the end of the sentence comes out so meek, so low, it hurts you so much, drives a dagger into your chest and twists so slowly that tears spring at the corner of your eyes. and to think you were pissed as hell at him earlier, stomping on floors and banging doors. but then again, that seems to be a language the two of you have no problem sharing, and the end always leads to resolution.

you move closer to him, squishing the dog closer in the caged parenthesis of him and you, and atsumu's arm reaches out as a fingertip skims where your hair meets your temple. this is nice. quiet is nice. and sometimes, you've learned, nothing matters outside the parenthesis.

you met atsumu when you were young. he was a loudmouthed prick with a bad dye-job and you were the only person who was as much of an asshole as he was. and the years spanning in between, somehow, someway, after working and re-working and growing up and growing some more, the two of you ended up in this two storey house in a town twenty minutes away from the city, with a nice breeze and south facing windows in the kitchen, and a backyard that's big enough for a dog, and maybe, just maybe, a couple of kids.

a house of boring people. people who, six years ago, would have made you look at each other with an identical curl in the bridge of your noses.

you and atsumu thrived by jabbing at each other best you can, verbal pinches and pricks, but sometimes, you remember atsumu is a man with a heart of gold, something so soft that you want to protect it with everything you are.

you get those people now. you know he does too. and something in that acceptance was the change that was so slow and gradual he was talking about, that when you try to pinpoint where everything shifted, you'd have to pick at the whole timeline.

“what are you without volleyball?" you say softly. everything will change again too, once he retires, but that's for later. "well. a pain in my ass is one. if you're worrying about what to do, you can always fix the shed. wash the dog. and i like that you don’t have to be so far away half the year anymore. i miss you when you're not around, you know. and you can admit you like taking things slow, and then you can quit the full throttle mode you’ve been operating at your whole life, because i can see that it’s tiring you out now. you can take things slow, and i'll still be here, however you need me, and you'll figure it out like you always do with everything.”

you swallow a lump in your throat, palm brushing haru-chan's fur as atsumu's palm brushes your hair.

“you can be just atsumu. not musubi’s sexy setter — god, i hate that nickname. i hate it so much, tsumu.” you laugh.

"'course you would," he replies, and you can hear a bit of ease in his voice that wasn't there earlier.

you swallow, looking him in the eyes. you see yourself there, in the same place, ten, twenty, fifty years from now, and you find that it doesn't bother you at all, the banality of it, the predicatbility of how it'll go. the thought of you loving him as long as you can fills you with so much comfort.

“my atsumu. you’ve always been my atsumu. it won’t be anything different at all.”

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader

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pleasantanathema · 3 years

Text

Levi Ackerman | Little Death

Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Light Dom/Sub Dynamics, Authority/Power Play, Hair Pulling, Established Relationship

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Part of my Nine Muses Event to celebrate 9k! Follow the link to read other fanfics I’m writing to celebrate. A huge thank you to @shadowworks for helping me as I learned how to characterize Levi, and for being one of the best encouragers in my life. Without her, I wouldn’t still have this passion for writing. 💙

“Oi, you going deaf?” Levi tapped his hand against your cheek in successive raps, stern but soft, enough to pull you from your fucked out trance. Your head shook no even though you couldn’t remember what words were spoken, the haze of sex and the aftershocks of orgasm clouding over you like thick smoke.

“Then tell me what I said,” he spoke through gritted teeth, inky tendrils of black hair curling with sweat against his forehead.

He was well aware it would be hard for you to speak, his cock stuffed so deep inside of you it was nearly bubbling out of your throat. Both of his hands found your thighs, pressing you back farther, wider. Your sweet, abused pussy sucked in around him. He admired the cream that stained his cock, your slick gushing as he gave another brutal push into your depths.

Levi aired on the side of mercy, for once, electing to remind you of his words instead of listening to whatever nonsense you’d try to babble out for him.

“Give me another. Feels so good when you cum on my cock.”

“C-Captain I can’t…”

His body curled over yours, the weight of his hips pressing between your legs as he cupped your face, thumb slipping past open lips to give you something to suck and focus on.

“Yes you can, you’re my girl.”

The way your darling tongue lapped at his thumb made his stomach twist.

He knew you had more to give, he wouldn’t push you if he thought otherwise. He wanted you to drown in the sin; it’s what you deserved. Always so good, listening to every order, pledging your heart without question. And, for some reason, you’d been willing to dedicate your heart to him, to serve your precious body up on a platter whenever he asked.

Levi didn’t deserve you, but he’d be damned if your cunt wasn’t his favorite place to bury his stress.

A coo left your lips, soft and full and muffled by his thumb. He started to roll his hips, bursts of pleasure stemming from where your pussy was spread around him, drifting down his warmed muscles. His thrusts were painfully accurate, the kind that he knew were hitting you in just the right way to have you so full of ecstasy you’d feel like crying.

You were so pretty like this, spread open, skin flushed, clit swollen and your fists tugging at his sheets. It was maddening, the kind of sight to make a man choke on every inhibition.

His spit-slick thumb popped out of your mouth, petting across your cheek until your eyes fluttered open, “yeah that’s right, look at me,” he looped an arm around your back, keeping you secure on his cock as he pulled you up into his lap, “atta girl.”

He buried his face in your tits, grunting as he started to bounce you, your knees still trying to find purchase on the mattress. He kept strong arms around your back, holding you against him, pulling you up and down as he soaked in your breathy moans. Rocking you like this kept the build of pressure in your belly, had the flames smoldering as he prepared to light them high and hot again.

Grey eyes narrowed as he kissed at your shoulder, suddenly all too aware of the dressing mirror staring at him on the wall. His balls tightened as he watched the beautiful planes of your back move underneath his scarred hands, saw his thick, milky cock disappear into the eden of your body. He stayed mesmerized for a moment, obsessed with observing how you keened, how it looked when he took you.

“You’re gonna cum for me again, and you’re gonna see just how fucking pretty you look when you do.”

Levi man-handled you, had you twisting around in his lap until he could push you down on your hands and knees, a hand in your hair lifting your face up to look at him in the mirror. He took a sick delight in trying to decipher the emotions that ran across your features—shock, fear, a twist of pleasure as his cock plunged deeper into your tight pussy from behind.

The veins in his arms came to life as he kept leverage in your hair, holding your head up to watch him, to make eye contact with him as his balls slapped against the flesh of your ass. His lips were curling, like he was holding back a smile.

Your thighs were shaking, still wobbly from the orgasms he’d pulled from you earlier. He always claimed he lost count of what he did to you, but he never did. Tonight it was three times already, and the fourth would bring his undoing as well.

“Look at you,” he growled, a sound that made you shiver, “little whore, my little pet, so good for me.”

Quick fingers swirled at your clit, your mouth falling open with curses, “fuckfuckfuck, Captain Levi-ii.”

Your poor clit was so hot and wet under his fingers, belly quivering as he started to draw out your pleasure, ready to feel you unwind and snap and die a little death.

He pulled you back harder by your hair, had your back arching to his chest so he could put your pussy on display in the reflection. A breath hitched in your throat, he could feel it, the hand in your hair now finding refuge on your neck. His teeth nipped at your ear, side-eyeing the mirror so he could watch his messy cock get lost inside of you over and over again.

All kinds of praise rattled around in his head. Your tits were perfect, bouncing, sweat dripping down between them. Your cunt was fucking divine, so perfect when stuffed, puffy clit so wet under persistent fingertips. The sounds that left the throat under his hand were like balm, little babbles of the syllables of his name like a cacophony of weakness and power to his ears.

But he didn’t know how to say any of that shit, didn’t know how to praise you beyond good. So he let his body show you, lips sucking at your neck, fingers working you like a toy he was winding.

He tipped your head forward, thumb and index fingers pressing into your cheeks and making you focus on yourself in the mirror.

“Do it,” he sucked the command into your neck, “fucking cum, let me feel it.”

God, he wished he could paint the picture of your orgasmic bliss into his mind forever. Your eyes were glassy, lips swollen, a long, continuous moan sounding as your cunt clenched tighter than he’d ever felt before. He knew you’d get off on the sight as well, that you’d like to see how his cock pulsed inside of you at the sight of you cumming for him again. Always so responsive, like the devil playing his fiddle.

Levi held you as you crumpled over from exhaustion, tangling you up in his arms and letting you rest against him in his bed. He kept his cock lodged inside your warmth, not quite ready to leave the home he sculpted. You were still squeezing around him, tightening with every deep breath as you tried to bring your mind back into the world.

Fingers wandered on their own, his hands skimming over your thighs, up your back. Something comforting, silent tells that he was there, that he had you, that he would always take care of you.

#Levi smut #Levi Ackerman smut #Levi x reader #Levi ackerman #Levi Ackerman x reader #Levi x you #Levi Ackerman x you #snk levi #aot levi #snk #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #Levi fanfic #Levi Ackerman fanfic

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mercurygguk · 3 years

Text

the first year | jjk (m)

genre; parents au + established relationship au

pairing; dad!jungkook x fem reader

✎ summary; in which jungkook learns that his new life as a parent can be difficult at times and that it takes a great amount of patience, but even with all that, jungkook wouldn’t trade it for anything.

warnings; my weak attempt at being funny, jungkook as a dad, SMUT; sexual activities, fingering, swearing, light dirty talk, actual sex, jungkook being a simp for his baby mama

word count; 4,121

➵ READ PART 1 HERE

a/n; here’s a part 2 of my dad!jungkook fic - hope you like it, enjoy!! also, please feel free to give some feedback <3 didn’t proof read at all, ignore any possible typos thx

Parenting is anything but easy.

That is something Jungkook has learned after the first few months of being a dad. His daughter is usually very easy to handle, very peaceful at most times and over all a very happy baby. However, she likes to wake him up in the middle of the night with loud cries. At this point Jungkook can’t even remember what it feels like to get 8 hours of sleep at night.

Tonight seems to be another one of those nights. Her cries are nothing but irritation, not satisfied with the lack of attention. Jungkook has learned the differences in her cries from the way they sound and whether there are tears or not. Sometimes she’s only doing it just to get some attention when all she really has to do is sleep. She must have inherited her mother’s temper and need for attention.

A heavy sigh falls from Jungkook’s lips, eyes still closed as he waits a few moments, hoping she’ll fall back to sleep without him having to get up and go to her room. Beside him, his girlfriend and the mother of his daughter is stirring, turning over to face Jungkook’s back. Scooting closer, you reach out to touch his back, your palm running up and down.

“I’ll get her,” you softly tell him, speaking into the darkness before blindlessly pressing a kiss to the skin of his back. Before you can get out of bed, Jungkook is getting up. You watch as he drags his feet out of the bedroom and down the small hallway to where his daughter is currently having a midnight crying fit. A small smile sneaks its way onto your lips, knowing he doesn’t mind getting her in the middle of the night despite how tired he sounds and looks.

There’s nothing in the world he wouldn’t do for her.

Jungkook carefully opens the door, peeking his head inside to see his 7-month-old daughter standing up in her crib, her hands tightly gripping the edge to hold herself up. He switches on the night lamp on her dresser, lighting up the room in a warm glow. Her big brown eyes with long lashes looks at him, no tears in sight, just a small mischievous grin on her face because he’s there to check on her again. The way she has him wrapped around her tiny pinky finger is beyond him.

“You little tease,” he coos with a smile as he steps closer to the crib, immediately picking her up when she reaches for him. Once she’s in his arms, she cuddles closer to him, head neatly tucked into the crook of his neck. Jungkook sighs deeply in content, running his hand up and down her back as he makes his way out of her room and back to you in the bedroom. You’re still awake when he appears in the doorway, a knowing smirk on your face as he moves closer to the bed. You reach out while pouting, wanting your baby girl in your arms. She’s already half asleep again as Jungkook hands her over before climbing into bed.

Jungkook watches with pure adoration in his eyes as the two most important girls in his life are cuddling up against him. You glance up at him, noticing the small smile he always seems to sport whenever you catch him looking at you and your daughter. She’s fully asleep now, completely unaware of the way her parents are watching her with proudness in their eyes and hearts.

“We got lucky, huh?” You softly say.

Nodding, Jungkook intertwines your free hand with his.

“We really did.”

“You know what we should?”

You turn to look at Jungkook, eyebrows raised in question. He looks out of the window in the living room, watching the skyline and tapping his chin as if he’s in deep thought. You wait patiently until he looks your way.

“We should throw a party for Areum’s 1st birthday,” he says. You give him a look only to receive one back.

You scoff lightly, “you don’t think I haven’t thought of that?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Well, you never mentioned it, so how should I know?”

Pretending to be offended, you place a hand on your chest and let out another scoff. Jungkook chuckles at your silliness, scooting closer before pulling you onto his lap. You smile at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Of course, we’re throwing her a party. It’s her first one after all.”

Smiling, Jungkook rubs his palms up and down your thighs. Soon the smile falls from his lips. You frown as you watch it happen, his eyes falling to look at anything but your face. You know what he’s thinking, he’s mentioned it before.

“I can’t believe she’s already a year old soon,” he mumbled. You smile softly, reaching up to run a hand through his hair to remove it from his face. He looks at you again, a sad smile on his face now. “She’s growing so fast, it terrifies me.”

“Oh, I know, baby,” you coo, “but she can’t stay tiny forever, you know that.”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah, I know. I just wish I could slow down time sometimes.”

Your heart aches watching him being this sad over something so inevitable. He loves her so much and he’ll do anything to protect her, go to great lengths to get her whatever she needs. It warms your heart, makes you wonder if you ever could’ve found someone more perfect than him if you didn’t have him?

“She’ll always need you, Jungkook. Even when she’ll say she doesn’t.”

“Areum, sweetheart, no- watch out!”

You watch with wide, horrified eyes as your daughter climbs onto the couch and stands up, wobbling on her very unstable legs. You’re not quick enough to get up and catch her before she tumbles to the ground, her head thankfully not hitting the floor as hard as it could’ve. A loud cry sounds throughout the living room, tears welling up in her eyes as you pick her up.

You examine her for any injuries while cradling her to you. When you don’t see any, you press a kiss on the top of her head. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry, it’s okay,” you coo, holding her close as she cries it out.

As she sniffles against your shirt, a thousand thoughts run through your mind. Firstly, Jungkook must never know this happened. Secondly, you feel like the worst mother ever, the way you just let her climb up there without support and basically just watching her fall down and almost hit her head very badly.

“Oh, God,” you breathe out, letting out a quiet cry of panic.

The front door opens, your boyfriend’s humming sounding throughout the apartment. You listen as he kicks off his shoes and unzips his jacket. You quickly check Areum’s face for visible tears, hurriedly drying off the remnants with your sleeve. You press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, flashing her a smile before picking up a toy, handing it to her and pretending her fall didn’t just happen minutes ago.

“Hey babe,” Jungkook appears in the living room, smiling widely at the two of you. He’s quick to come closer, reaching out for Areum and picking her up. He smooches her cheeks with a smile, but it’s without her usual reaction of laughter. You watch, waiting until it hits him. His smile falters, glancing at you whose face is grimacing in apology already.

The red spots from tears on her small, soft cheeks is what gives it away. That and how quiet she is when usually she’s laughing hysterically when Jungkook smooches her.

“Has she been crying? And is that a bump on her forehead?” He asks, turning to look at you.

“Yeah...” you trail off, wincing as your boyfriend stares you down in suspicion, “we might’ve had a small accident-”

“____!” Jungkook exclaims, horrified as he sits down on the couch with Areum in his lap. He examines her like you did when the fall happened, worry written all over his face. You sigh deeply, getting up from the floor to take a seat beside him. “How did this happen? Did you not watch her?”

“I did!” You quickly defend yourself, “she was crawling onto the couch and before I knew it she was falling down head first into the rug!”

Jungkook exhales, looking back at Areum who’s playing with the thin silver chain around his neck. The bump on her forehead doesn’t look too bad. “I guess the rug took most of the fall, the bump isn’t that big.”

“Oh God, I’m the worst mom ever!” You cry out at the sight of the small bump on your daughter’s head, wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm, your face hidden in his shoulder. Jungkook can’t help but roll his eyes. You always have to be so dramatic, thinking the worst about yourself when this could’ve happened to any parent.

“____,” he calls out, catching your attention. You sniffle lightly, lifting your head to look up at him. He smiles at you. “You’re not the worst mom ever, okay? You’re the best and this minor accident doesn’t define your entire role as a mother. She’s okay, look.”

You look at your daughter, her attention still focused on the silver chain, although now her small mouth is curved into a small smile. You smile at her, Jungkook does too. “It’s just a tiny bump,” he tells you, pausing before saying: “there will probably be much worse in the future.”

Gasping, you slap his upper arm causing Areum to let out that precious baby laugh. “Don’t jinx it!”

Jungkook is in a good mood, a pep in his step as he makes his way up to yours and his apartment, fully aware that you’re probably already cooking a delicious meal and making everything ready for your ‘date night’. The drive back from his parents’ place, where he just dropped off Areum, was filled with loud music that made him even more excited for finally having some time with you alone after God knows how long.

Once he steps through the front door, a delicious aroma of his favorite dish hits his nostrils causing him to let out a deep sigh of content. He quickly slips off his shoes and jacket before making his way to the kitchen. Feel-good songs are playing on the speaker and you’re moving around while preparing the food, singing along and just enjoying yourself. You’re not aware of Jungkook standing behind you, a big grin on his face.

Deciding to surprise you, he sneaks up behind you and snakes his arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. You jump lightly in his embrace, turning your head slightly to see that it is in fact the love of your life who’s hugging you.

“Hi,” you softly say, smiling when he presses his lips to your cheek in a soft kiss.

“Mhm,” he hums in response, “it smells delicious, baby.”

“Good for you that your favorite dish is the one I make the best,” you smirk, flipping the steaks on the pan. Jungkook chuckles before agreeing with you. You turn the heat down before turning around in his arms, coming face to face with him. Without another thought he leans in and steals a quick peck. He grins at you when he pulls back to look at you again. “Go get cleaned up,” you tell him, pushing him away from you.

“I love you,” he smiles sweetly as he backs away and heads towards the bedroom. You watch with a lovesick smile, your eyes automatically landing on his butt because it’s right there and you can’t help yourself. Something tells you, you won't finish dinner at the table, but in bed instead.

Sure enough, you stayed at the table until you finished the main dish. You had prepared dessert as well but Jungkook is in the mood for another kind of dessert – that’s what he had said when he got up from his seat before pulling you from yours and tugging you towards the bedroom. Screw the ice cream, you thought to yourself and allowed Jungkook to guide you to the bed.

Ever since Areum was born you’ve had few chances of being alone with Jungkook, enjoying his company and the love he always stores deep inside of him until he feels like showering you in it.

It’s slow but hurried, it’s passionate and yet filled with desperation, it’s you and him together in your own bubble. Your eyes close shut as Jungkook traces your skin with his lips, his hands running over and feeling your curves and every dip in your body. His lips brush across the faint stretch marks on your stomach, his hands cupping your breasts softly yet firmly.

“God, you’re the most beautiful mama to ever exist,” Jungkook groans as he hovers over you, looking you up and down, noticing every single detail of your body and skin. You smile, a faint blush covering your cheeks as he dips down to kiss you softly. His tongue meets yours halfway, a soft moan falling from your mouth and into his. He swallows the whimpers you let out as he reaches down, fingers running between your lower lips, the wetness there evident to him.

“Jungkook,” you sigh in pleasure against his lips as he rolls your clit with his thumb, “more, please.”

He smirks softly, lips moving from your lips to your cheeks and further down to the top of your breasts, peppering kisses all over you. All your senses are on fire, the feeling of his lips, his fingers, his body against yours, the growing erection against your leg. Your hand reaches down to rub against it through his boxers, the only piece of clothing separating his cock from your clenching hole. You’re whimpering against him as the pressure from his thumb on your clit is edging you closer to your release.

“J-jungkook, please, I need you,” you gasp, you're moving automatically against his fingers causing more friction, “n-need you so bad.”

“That desperate for my cock, huh baby?” He teases, smoothly sinking his fingers inside of you, “you want me to finish you off now or would you like to cum all over my cock?”

You moan at his words, back arching up against him. “Your cock, please, wanna cum all over it.”

A grunt leaves Jungkook as he imagines it before him. It doesn’t take long for him to strip off his boxers, throwing them onto the floor beside the bed. You anticipate the stretch, already clenching around nothing as Jungkook lines himself up with your entrance. You reach for his hand just as he starts pushing past your walls, stretching you open so deliciously in a way you’ll never be able to handle without gasping in pure pleasure. Jungkook intertwines his hand with yours as he keeps it pressed against the mattress right beside your head.

He bottoms out, filling you to the brim. He breathes out heavily, his breathing ragged as he lets you adjust to his impressive width and length. “Fuck, I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this,” he rasps out as he pulls out and pushes back in, watching the way your eyes roll back in pleasure, “my pretty baby all fucked out.”

It blows your mind how he always manages to make it so dirty yet soft. You’re already a mess beneath him and he’s barely begun. “Oh god, Jungkook-”

A forceful push of his hips has you gasping, a high pitched moan tumbling from your lips. His hips connect with yours in a rhythm, skin against skin, the lewd sounds of your wetness and the feeling of Jungkook thrusting and grinding into you. His lips are back against your skin, your collarbones earning kisses and small bites, your free hand running from his lower back and up his spine to the hair in his neck. You tug at it, earning a grunt from Jungkook. Lifting his head, he looks you in the eye, his lips slightly parted as he works you both to your highs.

His eyes are soft while his actions are far from it, the look he’s giving you tells you everything he doesn’t say out loud. “Oh my god, I’m gonna- fuck,” you gasp, tightening your hold on his hand, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Me too, baby, me too,” Jungkook moans, leaning down to press his lips to yours, kissing you like it would be the last. He swallows your whimpers, your moans and gasps as your orgasm hits you hard. Jungkook follows you, his orgasm hitting him as you clench around him. He stills inside of you, moaning deeply at the feeling of you clenching and milking him for every drip of cum. He’s panting as he comes down, his face hidden in the crook of your neck. Yours and his breathing is the only thing you can hear in the room as you both try to collect yourselves. Your fingers are caressing his scalp as he stays in your arms, letting his weight rest upon you. Silence engulfs you and him, Jungkook’s breathing clashing against your neck, your fingers dancing across the skin on his back. You can feel his cum trickling out of you, but you don’t really care at this point, just enjoying the moment and worrying later about the mess that is the sheets.

Jungkook’s thoughts are running a hundred miles per hour as he lays in silence with you close against him. His thoughts shift from the first time he met you to when he first kissed you to the way you told him you loved him before he told you. Then his thoughts wander on to his daughter, the tiny person he created with you just from the love between the two of you. There are so many memories with you, moments and life events he shares with you. An idea pops into his mind, it’s something he has been thinking about for a long time, he just didn’t find the right time yet. He wants to add another meaningful celebration of life and love to the memories he shares with you.

He wants to marry you.

Jungkook already asked for your parents’ approval. They told him yes in an instant, reminding him that he has a child with you and that the two of you are already past asking for approval. That thought alone makes Jungkook chuckle softly. He really did things with you in a messy order. First he slept with you then he dated you. Then he asked you to be his girlfriend and then after a few years he accidentally got you pregnant and now he’s thinking about proposing to you.

“What?” You ask, smiling softly as you hear Jungkook chuckle.

He rolls over, his back hitting the mattress and pulling you with him to lay halfway on top of him. He smiles at you, his fingers reaching out to tuck strands of your hair behind your ears.

“It just hit me how we’ve done things in a really random order,” he tells you. Your eyebrows pull together in confusion at his words. “First we slept together and then we started dating after that, then I asked you to be my girlfriend,” he’s grinning from ear to ear as you listen and he’s talking, reminiscing the years he’s spent with you. “I got you pregnant by accident and now we’re parents and I just…”

He falls silent, his smile faltering as he looks you in the eyes. You’re looking at him with those eyes that always hold so much love for him and Areum too. Beautiful eyes that can calm him at any given time, tell him everything’s gonna be alright without you saying anything. Jungkook would do anything to look into those eyes for the rest of his life. He could just ask you, right now in this very moment. It doesn’t have to be a candlelit dinner or with rose petals. What matters is you and him together in an intimate moment where all feelings lay in front of you, bared for the both of you to see.

“Marry me.”

You freeze, your fingertips that had returned to running over his skin freeze in their movement. Jungkook can tell your eyes are watering. You open your mouth to speak, a small voice coming out as you say: “w-what?”

Jungkook nods, “you heard me, baby,” he softly says.

“I’m-” You begin but cut yourself off. Jungkook watches as a wide smile spreads across your face, the first few tears falling from your eyes and running down your cheeks. He reaches out to wipe them away, smiling softly himself. “Oh my god,” you cry.

“So, is that a yes?”

Nodding, you crawl up to wrap your arms around him in a tight hug, pressing your lips to his in a kiss. “Of course, it is! It’s a million times yes!” You say against his lips, pulling away slightly to rest your forehead against his. “I love you so much, Jungkook.”

“I love you the most, baby.”

Areum is 1 year old today.

She’s 1 year old and Jungkook isn’t sure how to handle it. His baby girl is growing up so fast and it both terrifies and amazes him. You seem to handle it pretty well, but Jungkook has a feeling you’re just very good at hiding it. There’s no way you’re not emotional about the fact that the baby you carried around for 9 months is already 1 year old.

“How’s my favorite granddaughter?” Jungkook’s mother coos as she walks right past her son and towards Areum who’s sitting on the rug in the living room, surrounded by her toys. Jungkook watches in disbelief how his mother doesn’t even give him a moment of attention, clearly only here to visit her grandchild.

“Mom, she’s your only granddaughter,” Jungkook deadpans before turning back to greet his father, “hey dad.”

Jungkook’s father gives him a tight hug before moving on to give you an even tighter hug. “How are you, ____?” He asks, smiling as he pulls away to look at you.

You smile in return. “I’m good! And you?”

“Same as always,” he shrugs, “not much happens when you reach a certain age.”

You chuckle at that, telling him to go say hi to his granddaughter. You watch as Areum greets his grandfather with a big grin, reaching out for him like she does with everyone she loves. You smile at the scenario in front of you, how Areum is the center of attention for all of her four grandparents. Your parents had arrived earlier than Jungkook’s, having kept Areum entertained for the past hour or so.

“Should we tell them today?” Jungkook asks as you join him in the kitchen, his voice low in case his mom should suddenly appear behind him. “You know, about that,” he points to the ring on your finger.

Smiling at him, you lean up and kiss him quickly on the lips. “Sure,” you agree with him, making him smile, “but remember it’s Areum’s day today. So we’ll just mention it and then move on with her birthday party.”

Jungkook nods at that. “Of course. Nothing is bigger than her 1st birthday-” he pauses at that, the fact hitting him once again. He then turns to you, giving you a confused look, “how are you not emotional about it at all? I literally cried when I gave her a bath last night.”

A laugh emits from your lips. “You cried? Because it’s your daughter's 1st birthday?”

Offended by how you’re finding his devastation humorous, Jungkook scoffs. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did.”

You’re smiling at him in adoration as you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. Jungkook hugs you back, pressing his lips to your temple. Areum’s laughter flows through the apartment causing the two of you to laugh yourselves. It’s like sweet music to your ears when Areum has a fit of giggles.

“I adore her so much, ____,” Jungkook suddenly says as he watches from the kitchen, watching how Areum is surrounded by her grandparents, having the best 1st birthday. You’re constantly smiling, you have been ever since Areum was born. The joy she brought with her when she came into the world is unlimited and you feel like you’re on top of the world for creating such a happy, lively small human being.

“I know, baby,” you tighten your arms around him, giving him a squeeze, “she’s the best thing that’s happened to us.”

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luna-writes-stuff · 3 years

Text

Motion Sickness, Xu Shangqi

Yes, I wrote this out self projection. I myself have a very weak stomach and can therefor very easily and quickly catch motion sickness.

For those interested about what motion sickness is and what it means for me: Quick story of it, my stomach cannot stand a lot of motion, especially when my brain is unaware of the direction my body is moving in. I get nauseous and light headed and just feel the bile rising up in my throat. So when I go on long car rides for vacation and I cannot see the navigation, I could easily throw up in the car in a matter of seconds. When I sit on the wrong side of the car, I get sick. When I look anywhere else but outside in the car, I get sick. When the car is taking turns instead of driving straight ahead, I get sick. It’s really annoying and it’s still something I struggle with a lot. I get it on amusement rides, rollercoasters, boats; even when I just move around to quickly or too much. So when I was watching that scene in Shang-Chi where they drive to Ta Lo, all I could think about was how terrible I would’ve been in that situation. And it inspired me to write this (stupid as it may sound.) Yes, I am aware there is medication for this, but it happens a lot of the times and would I keep using and buying it, I would spend way more money than I actually need to. I only use it for long car rides and boat trips.

Fanfic, female! reader

Fluff, bit of angst

Tw: SPOILERS, motion sickness, description of nausea, lightheadedness, description of vomiting, rising temperature, half consciousness, self projected, description of losing consciousness (but not really), Shang-Chi being worried, established relationship, use of Y/N. Also, I could not find the script anywhere, so half of the dialogue is probably wrong.

Summary: When escaping Wenwu’s home, you join the ride to Ta Lo, even as you are aware that you get severe motion sickness in cars and most definitely will end up throwing up later. Shang-Chi knows this and tries to help, but you can’t talk nausea out of someone. Upon arriving in Ta Lo, you’re barely conscious and Shang-Chi gets concerned.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shang-Chi asked, as you sat outside the car you just escaped in.

The ride from Wenwu’s home had been difficult to say the least. You got very nauseous in car rides, and you knew that, yet you wanted to be there for Shang-Chi when he would travel to his mother’s village. It was already clear it was not going to be an easy journey, but you insisted on joining the ride.

At the moment, you were catching some fresh air after the eventful car ride earlier. You forced your nausea down, smiling up at Shang-Chi.

“Oh yeah. I’ll be fine.” You assured, standing up and taking a deep breath in.

“You know you don’t have to come along.” He tried again, but you ignored his offer.

“I said I’ll be fine.” You insisted, walking back towards the car. Shang-Chi let out a sigh of defeat before opening the door to the passenger seat.

“Actually, Trevor was going to sit there. Seeing as he kind of holds the information and stuff.” Katy said, gesturing towards the man behind you two.

“He can do that from the back.” Shang-Chi said, but you shoo’d him, opening the door behind the passenger seat.

“I can sit here too.” You announced, sitting down before your boyfriend could say anything about it.

“Y/N-“ “Don’t Y/N me.” You interrupted. “If I get sick, it’s my own damn fault.”

He groaned before stepping in on the other side, his sister seated between the two of you.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, looking towards you with a worried glance.

“She gets sick in car rides.” Shang-Chi announced, putting on his seatbelt.

“Don’t worry.” You reassured her, “If I’m going to throw up, I’m going to aim for Shang-Chi. You’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to throw up?” She questioned, frowning at the statement.

“I’ll try not to, if it’s any consolation to you.” You offered, throwing off your jacket before bundling it up and letting it rest on your lap, holding it against your stomach lightly.

“I hope you’re strapped in. Morris tells us we need to leave now.” Trevor announced, simultaneously making Katy push the gas.

As you’re driving, Katy keeps a steady pace, causing a feeling of relief to wash through you. If this was going to be the pace you’d keep during the ride, nothing could really go wrong.

In front of the car, the trees suddenly started to separate, creating a road for Katy to drive on. You gasped at the sight, having never seen anything like it before.

“This is so cool.” Katy quietly awed. You hummed in agreement, staring at the greens out of the window.

“Morris says you might want to speed up.” Trevor announced, looking at the rearview mirror. Katy followed his look, before letting a curse word slip and speeding up. All three of you in the back quickly looked behind, eyes widening at the sight of the trees closing back.

You turned around the second you saw what was happening, not ready to move forward while looking back.

“Take a left.” Trevor instructed.

“When?” Katy wondered, sparing the man a single glance.

“Now!” He ushered.

Katy took a sharp turn at his words, causing you to immediately grab hold of the handle on the door. Xialing and Shang-Chi both fell towards your side, not having prepared for the turn. You let out a little chuckle at the sight of them, but stopped as the familiar feeling of nausea hit you again.

“Right!” Trevor instructed. Yet again, Katy listened to him, taking a sharp right turn as the woods split into two again.

You had yet to let go of the handle, but you figured it might the closest thing you’d get to grounding at the moment. You felt Shang-Chi’s eyes drill holes into your head, but you refused to look at him. Instead, you kept you eyes on the window outside, knowing shooting your glance anywhere else might lead to some unfortunate consequences.

“Right again!” And at those words, the car stumbled around. Your stomach started feeling heavy as your head grew lighter, but you refused to acknowledge it, silently wishing for it to be over soon. You knew what would happen. You brought this upon yourself and you had no one to blame but yourself. You were in this now and you would not complain about it.

“Left!”

The next turn came completely unexpected to you, causing you to lose grip of the handle and the jacket on your lap, your hands trying to hold onto the seat in front of you.

As the car was on a straight line again, Shang-Chi quickly leaned over, grabbing your jacket and handing it to you, before opening your window slightly, allowing fresh air to fill the car. He shot you a silent look before returning to his seat.

“Drive faster!” Trevor urged, looking in the rearview mirror again. The forest seemed to close in behind you in an even faster rate now.

Katy just followed his lead, pushing the gas pedal down all the way. The car was hurled forward as your stomach began to flip. You leant your head against the window, your jacket pressed tightly against your stomach.

“Right!” Trevor yelled, the wind that blew into the car now becoming louder than his voice.

As Katy followed his directions, your clothes began to uncomfortably cling to your body, your hair slowly sticking to your forehead. You felt the bile rising up your throat, but you swallowed it back down, knowing there was no way of stopping now.

As Trevor kept shouting instructions, you began to wonder when this maze would end. It had been more terrible than you predicted. Perhaps the nausea of the earlier car-ride still lay heavy on your stomach, which only increased with the current journey. Or maybe the fact that there were no blinkers or navigation used, made your brain confused and uncomfortable, leaving you with a sickening feeling. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

Had this been a bad idea?

Definitely.

Would you ever confess it?

Never.

“Close the window!” Trevor yelled to Katy, holding his hands over his ears.

“Do not close the window!” Shang-Chi shot after him, holding his hand beside Katy’s seat, leaving her unable to access the window buttons.

Your head rested against the backside of the chair in front of you, trying to keep the dizziness at bay, but with every following turn, you felt that uncomfortable substance rising back up. Your head felt too light to lift it now, but your stomach forced you to keep it up before everything would come back out.

You let your head fall towards the window, keeping it up in order to swallow everything down again. The sour feeling stung your throat, nearly making you gasp in uneasiness, but you did your best not to show it. The open window that provided you with fresh air, had begun to lose its purpose, now only filling you with a loud pounding in the ears, every other word suddenly passing by unheard. It wasn’t until you felt a warm hand on the one that clung to your jacket, that you moved your head.

Before even looking, you knew it was Shang-Chi, but there was little he could do for you now. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he held out a bottle of cold water and a plastic bag. You gratefully took the offer, taking small sips from the bottle before placing the plastic bag on top of your jacket, just in case things would go sideways.

Your hands had grown all warm and soggy, nearly gliding off of the fabric. Your shirt was now nearly glued to your back. The hair you had refused to put up earlier was now suffocating your neck with a heat attack. You could feel the sweat of it fall down your body, making you move uncomfortably in your seat. A sharp ringing filled your ears, your vision showing black dots from time to time.

The car increased its speed suddenly. You had no idea what was happening, but you closed your eyes, not willing to look outside anymore. You needed your focus on your body, trying so desperately to maintain it.

Katy’s screaming disturbed the ringing in your ears as you felt an annoying banging against your brain.

And just like that, the car stopped moving. Heavy breathing was heard all around the car, but you had yet to open your eyes. The nauseating feeling was far from over. You figured it was best to continue driving before you would have to experience everything again.

“Everyone okay?” Katy asked, which went answered by multiple hums.

“Morris says to go right through there.” The man in front of you announced.

“Through the waterfall?” Katy asked incredulously.

“Yes.” Was the simple answer.

And then, the car was moving again. You heard the window beside you shut, but you made no intention to open your eyes yet.

“Y/N?” You heard Shang-Chi ask, but you ignored him, waving your hand towards him in a “let it go” manner.

How long the car had been driving afterwards, you did not know. You didn’t look outside, the earlier trip still heavy on your stomach. It wasn’t until the car suddenly stopped, that your stomach decided enough was enough, and resorted to throwing everything out.

You were hunched over the bag in your hands, the vomit slowly leaving your throat, much to your discomfort. You felt two gentle, yet unfamiliar hands wrap around your hair before tying it in a simple pony tail.

Your body felt as if it was on fire, your shirt definitely drenched by now. You tried to catch your breath, but you threw yourself back over the bag before you knew it. A second round falling out just as terrible as the first one.

You could hardly comprehend the door beside you opening, followed by a hand slowly, but steadily rubbing your back. You kept yourself above the bag, even though you were fairly sure you were done now. You began tying it, but it was taken from you before you could grab the ends.

As you unbuckled yourself and stood back up, black spots appeared in your vision again, making you stumble outside, before forcing you to sit down, your back against the car.

“Babe, can you hear me?” You faintly heard, making you hum silently, leaning your head against the car too, your eyes closing again.

“Are you okay?” He asked again, the voice now nearer.

“I just threw up twice. What do you think?” You mumbled.

Your statement went ignored, a soft hand being placed on top of your head instead.

“You’re burning up.” He remarked, untying your hair and wrapping it in a bun instead, making you sigh in relief.

“Give me a few minutes.” You stated quietly.

“Can you give me that bottle of water?” You followed up in a whisper. It was quiet for a moment before you felt the cold bottle back in your hands. You finished it quickly, handing it back when you were done.

“Do you need anything else?” He wondered again, his hand softly touching your cheek.

“A cold shower.” You mustered out, throwing your head forward, making it rest against Shang-Chi’s chest. “And a few painkillers.”

A low chuckle escaped his throat as his hand rested on your back, making you since slightly at the hot and sweaty shirt now being pushed against your body.

“Can you move yet?” He whispered patiently, letting you go, though he allowed your head to keep resting against him.

“Give me a moment.” You muttered, one of your hands falling to your stomach as if it would calm it down.

“That’s okay.” He answered, shifting a little bit before resting his head on top of yours, one of his his hands connecting with the one that was on your stomach.

“Xialing is doing the talking anyway.” He explained, his second hand falling to your neck and stroking it affectionately.

“Tell me when to get up.” He proposed, letting you pick your time and comfort.

You hummed in response, happy to be in his arms back on solid ground. You tried turning in your position, but your body quickly show down the idea, fresh nausea returning fast.

Shang-Chi understood what you were trying to do, luckily. He grabbed your waist, carefully turning you around, making your back rest against his chest.

“You’re drenched in sweat.” He noticed aloud, though that was the only thing he did about it.

Your head fell back in the crook of his neck, making Shang-Chi smile and rest his head against yours. Your hand tried reaching for his, even though you could not see anything right now.

“You want more water?” He misunderstood, his voice vibrating through his chest.

You just shook your head lightly, grabbing his arm and letting your hand slide down it until your hand connected with his. He squeezed it in comfort, before wrapping his arms around your body, holding you against him tightly, your hands toying with his fingers.

“I’m tired.” You whispered. “Do you mind if I fall asleep right here?”

Once more, Shang-Chi chuckled. “Of course not, babe.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled, sinking into his arms, nausea slowly subsiding as your mind finally drifted off.

You were glad he had been understanding, instead of cocky and full of himself at the moment. He did not mention your stubbornness earlier or your stupid comments. And you were thankful for that. You were far too tired or nauseous to deal with these comments now. They’d have to wait until tomorrow morning. Besides, a cold shower was next on the agenda, whether Ta Lo had that or not.

Taglist: @wlfstxr

#shang chi and the legend of the ten rings #shang chi #Xu shanqi #simu liu #marvel #MCU #Avengers #shangqi x reader #shang chi x reader #shang chi imagine

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dienamights · 3 years

Text

A Reverberate Lullaby | K.Bakugou

✎ The echoing howls stalk you, a ghost hunched on your shoulders, wailing like a child calling for rescue, who cries with no tears. Chanting for a hero that is willing to pick up the pieces of its soul and being, yet it is only left to wither. For the ghost has lost faith that such others exist and can only be cured by finding them, for you are the ghost of your world and love is the only true exorcist.

✎ Protagonists: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

✎ Word count: 4.1K

✎ Category: hurt/comfort, Implied Mature Content MDNI, Prohero!au, Established relationship!au

✎ Caution(!): Implied Mature Content MDNI, mention of depressive state, toxic family, toxic coping mechanism, mention of reader’s weight gain and thoughts about self worth. Please keep in mind while every person’s reaction to depression is different, don’t belittle anyone’s battle when you don’t understand it.

✎ Author’s notes: Hello! Hope everyone’s taking care! Still on hiatus BUT I’m here to post my contribution to the Mental Health Awareness collab by @doinmybesthere ! This has been in the works for a while because I kept scarping ideas for triggering me lmao. This piece is very personal to me and I’m glad I am able to share my experience with you all, I hope that it might help anyone out there in reaching out and asking for help because I know how difficult and scary it might be! Please check out everyone’s contribution that they worked so hard for! kisses kisses take care!

OOH ALSO! Thank you so much for 900 followers aaaaaah! You’re all so amazing and if anyone has suggestions for an event to hold in June lemme know! I’ll also think of some ideas

» Masterlist | Requests | Taglist

The morning sun barely rises and peaks through your blinds, sunshine starting to kiss at your cheeks as you squint at the light, the room welcoming the warmth that is being brought into it after the evening’s chill that made you curl tighter in on yourself, clasping whatever heat you could muster than to turn around and find it in the heating pad of a body that lays next to you.

An alarm only just rings before quickly being shut off, followed by the creaking of the bed when the person behind you shifts, shifts again, another time, before getting up and stalking to the bathroom, after letting an elongated sigh when they sit at the edge of the bed, not acknowledging your presence accompanying theirs. The door clicking closed before the trickling of water fills the quiet room.

Your clock reads 5 am when you squint at it, and you blink at the time before you go on with your routine, setting up breakfast while your boyfriend gets ready to go to work.

Oddly enough, you don’t really quite remember when you started working on the food, all that you could see in front of you is nothing but a scene that looks like it’s out of a broken TV - there’s just so much static. The voices are distorted, as if they’re coming from a defective radio.

“Listen, this ain’t about me, this is about you and how you-”

“What about me? Huh? That you see me as nothing but a burden? No, you can say it-”

“You wanna hear me fuckin’ say it then fine! This is about you sitting on yer ass all day obsessing over her while she wouldn’ give you the time of day y/n. When will you fuckin’ realize that?”

The scene blurs and sways, and you feel your mind run at a speed you didn’t know it could muster, and you’re unable to keep up with it. The knife in your hand shakes vigorously and barely misses your fingers when you bring it down to cut the vegetables.

The sound of the bedroom door shutting closed alerts you, straightening your back when you hear the drop of your boyfriend’s gauntlet by his chair at the dining table. Katsuki approaches you with careful steps, his still ungloved hand circles your waist before pressing his lips to your temple, a gruff greeting of a whisper laced in between.

“G’morning.”

The familiar scent of caramel mixed in with his aftershave welcomes you, wraps around you and cradles you, promising everlasting safety and happiness. Yet, your heart wrenching sobs and muffled crash of your laptop against your floor that rings in your ears tell a different story, shrieking at you, roaring about your failures, mocking your entire existence.

“Made gohan, should be ready in a minute.” you mumble back, posture stiff at the close proximity of Katsuki and you feel the curl of his lips in displeasure pressing into your temple from both not reciprocating his greeting and your choice of meal for the morning. “You don’ eat gohan,”

“s’why I’m making it.” The quick retreat from your figure is like a slap to your face, and you barely stop yourself from reaching out and forcing his arms back around you. Because it's the bite in his voice that halts your movement.

“You’re still going?” you finally turn to take a look at him, the garnets in his eyes shifting, bleeding from hurt, betrayal, confusion, you really weren’t sure. And by God you had no energy left to try and figure out. “Yes I’m still going Katsuki, they’re my-”

“Yer really listenin’ to the bullshit spillin’ outta ya? This isn’t about em being your family y/n, we’ve been through with it already.” the space between you two feels like endless miles, pieces of the broken bridge you both worked so hard to build the only evidence of it ever being there, the rest crumbling into the valley in between your bodies.

“No, you’ve been through with it, I just wanna make things right, m-maybe I can fix it”

“It ain’t yours to fix y/n, when will you realize that?”

“No!” there you go again, sobbing pathetically. “W-why can’t I have a family, huh? Why- why can’t I, fuck, have a family that just loves and supports me a-and just doesn’t- ” your voice croaks, not failing to notice how Katsuki stepped away from the wreck in front of him. Probably having had enough of you, had enough of how troubling and bothersome you are, probably wondering how he got roped with all your shit and got dragged into your mess of a life.

His hands feel like scolding fire when they’re placed on your shoulders, halting their shaking as you cry into the palm of your hand to muffle the sobs, a habit Katsuki has been working so hard on to help you overcome, saddened to see you try and hide your vulnerability from him.

“Because they never made an effort, so why should you?” The tugging at your heart burns, the swallowed sobs feel like needles prickling at your lungs, making breathing feel like an impossible chore. You can’t help but feel restrained whenever you’re presented with the truth, especially unfiltered and unsugarcoated like right now, you know he’s right, you’ve known he was right a long time ago, but admitting it out loud just felt borderline impossible.

So you do what you do best, push him away, all the strength you can muster barely budges his figure, the meal forgotten on the counter as you run and lock the bedroom door on yourself.

Your footsteps feel heavy, dreading the topics and scenes you’re bound to relive. The grip on the strap of your shoulder bag tightening as you push the glass door open. A sigh escapes past your lips again as you enter the restaurant, half-heartedly smiling at the hostess before making your way inside to look for them.

It’s always the same scenery, the kind that always makes you want to run away to the other direction instead of being dragged down into whatever hell this is. And you pause to question yourself, again, why you actually agreed to put yourself out there.

There they are, seated in the four person table, with two empty seats, one for yourself and the other for the sibling your mother always hoped to have instead of you.

Your mother’s pursed lip could be seen from where you stand at the entrance, the clicking of her tapping foot sounding as bad as grinding metals in your ear, you hate it, despise it

It’s the same clicking you learned to memorize, to anticipate, to fear, when she passed by your room, the clicking that made you smother your face in your pillows and swallow your sobs, because the sound of you crying brought her more distress and annoyance than concern for her daughter.

With another tug at the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, you approach the table, hugging your father when he stands up and nodding to your mom when she eyes your figure.

“Good morning mother. It’s good to see you.”

“What’s wrong with your hair?”

Here we go, you breathe out before tugging at a strand of hair, spitting out your words “nothing’s wrong with it.”

“Then why does it look awful like that?”

There are times like these where you are left to question your reasoning for accepting whatever invitation you received from your parents to have brunch with them after all those months, a moment of weakness deceiving you into believing it was better than to spend it in your empty apartment, with the silence that ate away at your sanity every second. The only evidence of life in it other than yours was the recently cleaned dishes and the note thanking you for the meal, the promise of cuddles and movies tonight making you gain just a little more patience, barely.

You refrain from answering, your response is to lower your head, drag the dining chair before plopping on it, a dreary sigh escaping your lips as you scoot your chair closer to the table. Your mother never changes, it’s been a while since you were able to move out of her home, and while your father tries to tell you that these brunches are a way to reconnect with them, you yourself know that it’s merely a chance for your mother to nitpick at everything you ever did or are doing since you left.

“How have you been y/n.” your father smiles at you, both of you ignoring the sound of your mother kissing her teeth when her attempted jab at you is ignored. “Uh, I uh I’ve been good, I just wrapped up with my exams and so far things have been-”

“How is your hero boyfriend?”

For a second, you contemplate whether to ignore her question and keep conversing with your dad, dreading the questions that are to be pushed your way regarding Katsuki, of which will be used as bragging material for when she meets whatever group of friends she associates herself with, but you know better than to ignore her with the way she gets when she isn’t fed with attention.

“He’s uh, good.”

“Why isn’t he here today? What, too good to meet us?” your mother nags, and for the love of God, would that fucking clicking ever stop?

“No, he’s doing his job of, you know, being a hero.”

“Is he now? Well, what about you, hm?” She cocks her head as her nails tap the table. ”Did you think your father and I wouldn’t figure out you got fired?”

“How-” the gritting of your teeth is deafening at this point, your jaw clenching so tightly as you and your mother stare each other down. “Your dad pulled some strings, it isn’t that hard. So tell me, you like leeching off of him after you were done with us?”

“This isn’t, I just- I was- I, I had a lot of university work piling up a-and I couldn’t make time for my shifts and I just, it was just so hard for me to get out of bed these days and I.” why are you doing this? Why are you explaining yourself to people that don’t deserve it? Why are you feeding off of their acceptance, knowing damn well you never got it, and that thing was never gonna change.

“Oh, I don’t wanna hear about you not getting out of bed, you’re here now aren’t you? This is all in your head y/n. You need to stop talking nonsense, what’re people gonna say about you, about me, when they hear you?”

It feels just like yesterday, your figure standing and facing your full length mirror, your reflection eyeing you with identical vacant eyes. Fingers running through your bed head, a wince escaping you at the movement. Bringing your hand up and catching a glimpse of a slight swollen purple bruise along your wrist and the dried blood on your knuckles, the skin stretching upon rotating your wrist and causing notable pain.

Alas, that pain paled in comparison to when your mom barged into your room, blaming you for the way you were acting and belittling your reasoning. Beckoning your father over to replace your broken vanity and for your house maid to disinfect the space, the place sparkling clean and void of any evidence of what had transpired the day prior.

The shattered glass was picked up and thrown out, the splatters of blood were wiped clean, and whenever you brought up, what your mom refers to as ‘the temper tantrum’, you’re ignored by both your parents as they continued about their day, fearing the shame it would bring upon their name if the event was to catch others’ attention.

“Good morning! I’ll be your server for the day. What can I get you?” the foreign voice sounds more comforting than your own mother’s, and you almost laugh at the irony of it, but you only return her smile and take a look at the menu. Lighting up a smidge at the name of one of the dishes, while your parents place their order.

“Can I please get the soufflé pancake?” you look up to catch the horrified look on your mother’s face, followed by her clicking her tongue and shaking her head as if your choice of food was shameful.

“Certainly-”

“Uh, no she won’t be having that. Get her the Honzen Ryori,” your mother eyed your figure -whatever was visible to her from across the table- before turning to face the server again “maybe cut down on the rice, God knows she doesn’t need the extra calories.” and waves her off, disregarding your protests and tapping her nail against the table top, her annoying method in demanding your silence, which you subconsciously react to, snapping your mouth shut when the sound reaches your ears.

“What was that for? You know I like having sweet breakfasts,” was fuming even close to what you are feeling? Probably not. “Yes I can clearly see that, you’ve let yourself go as well. Do you think that boyfriend of yours will stick around when you start putting on even more weight?”

At a loss for words, you turn to your father, who has been quiet this whole time, for any sense of support when it comes to his wife. But the way he presses his lips together tells you all you need to know, how just because he isn’t bad as her, doesn’t make him that great of a parent. That standing by while you have been bullied your entire childhood and well into your adulthood is just as bad as being the cause of it.

“God forbid he realizes how much of a train wreck you really are and throws you on the side of the street, because you know damn well we won’t be here to pick you up.”

It began as a whispering in the air. The day had been beautiful -well, as beautiful as it can be with the kind of day you’re having- and the sky was like a dome of plasma-blue. The clouds had looked like airy anvils drifting under the gleaming disc of sun. People quickened their pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. The postcard-perfect sky started changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade merged in with the flaming orange and mesmerizing purple as the sun sunk deep into the horizon, before beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of cloud start to form, blocking out the old-gold color of the sun.

The first splatter of rain hits you when you’re halfway across the street, dismissing the need to take shelter under the roof of the buildings like some passersby are doing, hoping to see out the shower. Droplets of moisture begin to drip onto your head, sprinkling onto you like a gardener’s hose. It was well after your meal with your parents, and you had spent the last few hours walking aimlessly through the streets, making sure to avoid those covered by your boyfriend during his patrol. Hoping, praying, that something will clear your head, will help your poor jumbled mess of a mind forget about this entire nightmare of a day.

Should’ve listened to him

The rainfall intensifies, the drops drumming against the hood of the cars that you pass by, there is so much rain that the sound blurs into one long, whirring noise, reminding you of the blades of the fan that you stuck your finger in, that one time when you were left alone in your house when you were only five years of age. Eventually, they fade into a musical chime as you push your drenched hair away from your face and feel the vibration from your phone as it rings the ninth, maybe tenth time.

He told me so.

Tall apartment complex building; you couldn’t see its end from where you stand. You shiver as you approach it, the doorman - bless his heart - running and placing his umbrella to futilely shield you from the rain, and you just laugh and tell him that you’re already drenched and just waiting to go back home.

God forbid he realizes how much of train wreck I am

Not wanting to dampen the people at the elevator and make them uncomfortable, you take the stairs up to your shared apartment, you usually don't mind the exercise but with how heavy you feel after the rain and day spent up on your sore feet, all you think about is locking yourself in your room and discover what kind of new façade could you try and fool Katsuki with when he reaches home.

Just how I trick him into thinking I’m not with him to leech off of him

Eventually and with a struggle, you make it to the door, dreading the sight you might come to face, almost hoping for a black hole to emerge and swallow you whole.

What would people say about me? Do people think I’m crazy?

With a forced exhale out of your lungs, you fetch the key from your bag to unlock the door, but it’s wrenched open before you have a chance to insert your key.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Your eyes meet the beautiful rubies of Katsuki, and despite his anger that always overcompensates his worry, you smile and throw yourself on him. The shivering ceasing when he wraps his warm arms around you and that loving caramel scent engulfs you, in spite of how your hair is drenching his shirt and how you sniff against his neck.

“You need a shower, you’re shivering.”

“Take one with me?” you look up at him through your lashes, and he blinks at your uncharacterized boldness but agrees nonetheless, helping you out of your clothes and turning on the hot water before stepping in with you.

It is a struggle to help you clean up when all you do is grab at him, whether they’re your hands on his shoulders to lower him to kiss you, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your breasts against him, or palming his hardening cock as the poor man tries to shampoo your hair.

“Would ya knock it off? I’m tryna help you here shitty woman” you frown and squint your eyes when the shampoo gets close to them. “I wanna have sex.”

“Yea I can fuckin tell, just lemme-” you bring his arms down and press his palms to your boobs, letting go of his wrist when he starts squeezing at them. “Do you not want to?” he gulps, his dick twitching at the feeling of your soft mounds in his hands, your nipples covered up by the suds from the shampoo, as your finger traces the underside of his cock. “Yeah, I uh, fuck, I do, just- you need to wash up so you don’t get sick, alright?”

“Do you not think I’m pretty anymore?” you pout childishly, tears threatening to escape your eyes, and they burn as you close them when he washes the product out of your hair, a deep frown on his lips when you open your eyes back again. “The fuck you on about? That rain really fucked with ya?”

“Are you gonna get rid of me when you realize how much of a mess I am?” you whisper, your voice muffled under the sound of the shower above you, and you keep quiet as he helps you scrub your body, but your boyfriend is observant, he isn’t fucking dense.

“What do you want, right now?” he lowers himself to your level when he’s done, his hands stroking your cheeks as he eyes the way the water droplets cling to your lashes, but still not missing the red rimming around your eyes.

“I just wanna for- I uh, I wanna have sex.” you mumble, a plea hidden underneath your words, a plea to help you forget, to help you bury this day behind you and pretend it never happened.

What you don’t expect is the way that Katsuki pulls your naked wet body out of the bathroom and drops you on the bed, feeling your bodies dampening the bed as he hovers over you, no words are spoken between you as he kisses and nips at your skin. Marking it up and down as he all but worships your body, strands of his hair tangle between your fingers when you run your hands through it, arching your back at the feeling of his tongue tasting your slick.

He doesn’t let up until you cry out, and not in pleasure, your sobs far beyond those he loves to hear when he’s denying you an orgasm. No, they’re sobs that wreck your whole body, kicking away at his shoulders as you curl in on yourself and wail into the sheets. Sitting on his haunches on the floor, Katsuki’s eye soften at your figure, the way your shoulders are shaking and how -yet again- you’re trying to muffle your cries with the sheets this time, pressing your face against the mattress in an attempt to lower your noise, as your mother would call it.

“Hey, look at me” you feel his lips grazing your ear as he kisses it, pressing his lips against your temple, fingers unwrapping your fist against the sheet and digging into your hands and pressing kisses against the nail marks in the palm of your hands. “There she is, there’s my girl.” you hear when you lift your head from the bed, sight blurry from your shed tears but still easy to distinguish Katsuki even between billions of people.

You sniff when he kisses at your lids, groan when he chuckles and calls you ‘snot the naught’ when you wipe your nose with the back of your hand, beaming when he hears you let out one weak chuckle at the way he teases you. Still pressing his lips against any surface of skin he can reach.

“You don’t have to talk about it you know, to me at least” he mumbles to you when you’re both dressed in your sleepwear and are cuddling on the dry side of the bed, opting to change the sheet the next day. “Maybe, maybe we can get someone who can help you, you know.” you press your face deeper between his neck and shoulder, shuddering when his warm palms rub your back from under your shirt.

“I can make some calls, get in contact with someone.” you lift your head. “But I can’t afford-” he tuts and frowns at you “None of that.”

“Remember what I said when we agreed to move in?” you do, you just love the sound of his voice when he says it, feels like he’s making all these promises all over again. “Tell me.”

“Told ya I’d be whoever you want me to be, whoever you need me to be. I’ll be yer mom, even better than that bitch, I’ll support and love you unconditionally.” you sniff and tighten your hold against him as he presses his lips against your cheek.

“I’d be better than yer pussy dad, you can rely on me any time and I’ll live up to all your expectations. And callin me daddy is always a plus” he tangles his legs with your own when you wiggle away from him, laughing and giving you no chance of escape, not that you are even thinking of it.

“I’d even be yer genius fuckin nanny that taught you to tell yer mom to go fuck herself when you were four,” your suppressed giggles lights him up and he can’t help but chuckle as well. “I’ll be anything and everything you’ll ever need, baby. I’ll be your goddamn hero.”

The sun comes out again, casting slanted beams of light across the buildings. Steam rises slowly from the greenery. It rises up eerily and drifts mist-like towards the molten-gold sun, right before it escapes into the abyss. The image is so vivid that it stays with you for as long as you remember. Because on this exact day, the shrieking that follows you everywhere you go, haunting you and mocking you, suddenly is nowhere to be found. And all you can hear is the comforting sound of Katsuki as he hums you a lullaby to sleep.

aaaah I hope you like it!

627 notes · View notes

min-jpg · 3 years

Note

can i request zhongli , kaeya and xiao with a fem!s/o that comes from an extremely rich family and the boys get kidnapped and held for ransom and then out of nowhere their s/o comes and beats the group of people that kidnapped the boys , gracefully😋😋

Note: we stan a baddie s/o! Anyways, enjoy the drabbles with a word count averaging 0.5k for each character :) I'll make the setting at an abandoned warehouse, classic

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Kidnapped Genshin Boys x Fem Rich!reader pt.1

Part 2 (Childe, Diluc, Kazuha)

Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, Zhongli

Genre: fluff, established relationship, some woman kicking ass action, (TW: mentions of blood and violence)

---

KAEYA

Your boyfriend would deliberately act like a damsel in distress with no fighting aptitudes. Exaggerating his emotions to fabricate fear, he voluntarily let himself be held hostage, thinking they caught an easy target. Kaeya went along with his abductors' antics because he intends to bring them down once they reach the hideout.

While they were camping in the warehouse, Kaeya was not worried at the slightest. These people were no vision bearers, just mere greedy criminals that do not know who they were messing with.

Kaeya is aware of how affluent you and your family are. He already anticipated something similar to happen one day. Lowly tactics like these do not budge him at all, especially his unyielding loyalty towards you. As if the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonious would be shaken by something as childish as this.

While he was improvising a plan in his mind, one of the men yelled, "Intruder!"

They all assembled at the source, but glanced at each other in confusion, "Intruder? Where?"

While an altercation sparked between them about the unseen intruder, their attention successfully diverted away from Kaeya. Thus, using the containers and blind spots to your advantage, you sneaked your way towards your boyfriend. While freeing Kaeya from the ropes that bound him to the chair, you giggled as well, "Are you lost, baby boy?"

Your unexpected appearance left him stunned, but it was a pleasant surprise, "Lost in those eyes, baby girl." He smirked back. By the time you finished, the men realized that the intruder was you.

Now that you are actually here, Kaeya's concerns began sprouting because he wanted to ensure your safety first before carrying out his plan since your arrival was not formulated in it.

You fueled his worries when you stepped forward towards the group. You dropped the bag you carried along in front of them, "Here. You wanted the money right? Take it."

"Well, that wasn't so hard." The gung ho group laughed boisterously among themselves, the leader leaning down to pick up the bag. You swung your foot, landing a clean kick on his face which caused him to stumble back. He pressed his nose, blood trickled down, "You-"

You refused to let him finish by sending another vigorous kick, this time at the center of his stomach, causing him to hunch as he grabbed onto his stomach and surpassing his coughs. To finish it off, you plunged your elbow down the back of his head and connected with an uppercut. The force was strong enough to send their leader flying back and never stood up again, completely knocked out.

The rest of the gang blinked. It was not even a fight. You took him down with only a few moves, barely breaking a sweat.

"You guys want some more? Or just take the money and leave us alone." You taunted them. They hustled along, grabbing the bag, and left their leader in the warehouse. Little did they know, the bag was not filled with money, but just some rocks to give it some weight.

Kaeya walked up behind you, clapping his hands, "That was superb, babe. I didn't know you were such a fighter." Needless to say, Kaeya is so proud of you and praised the way you executed your beautiful course of movements. He will also keep in mind to never mess with your temper too much in the future.

XIAO

Your boyfriend could take out all the adversaries he wanted to, driving them to regret that they wished they never premeditate this abduction. Unfortunately, his hands are tied because the group threatened that harm would come your way instead if he did not comply with their demands.

"You just have to sit here until your girlfriend bails you out. I'm sure she has some extra cash to blow to save you."

You did warn Xiao beforehand that similar incidents happened in the past and it is bound to occur again, to which he glazed over as a simple matter since he is confident with his combat experiences. But you did not explain how the incidents were settled. Xiao did not know that you have the capability to defend yourself, so obviously he reluctantly listened to them to protect you.

If they were to resort to hurting anyone, Xiao would rather have them hurt him instead if it meant they could spare you. He will never forgive them or himself if they even attempt to graze a single strand of your hair.

While worrying for your safety, he heard one of the men shouting a yelp, but it got cut off as his body fell, passing out cold on the ground.

The group huddled together, "Who's there?!" Their eyes darted around to search for the one responsible.

While they were bewildered, you jumped down from one of the containers at the warehouse, sending your knee flying directly towards one of the members to knock him down. In a kneeling position to pin the person below in place, you sent a swift strike to his neck, making him faint. As you stood up, the gang and also Xiao all looked at your abrupt appearance with wide eyes.

Glaring at the men in front of you, "Now, if any of you touched my boyfriend, one doctor visit wouldn't suffice." Without giving them any time to react or respond, your palm curled into a fist, dashing forward to begin taking them down one by one with your nimble feet.

Your calculative movements were sharp and precise, leaving no opening for your foes to attack. As the battle proceeded, your hair flowed gracefully behind along with your bold actions. Although Xiao was itching to help, he only managed to stare at you in awe, marveled by your bravery and poise stance that showed no weakness.

Before you both knew it, the fight ended with you emerging victorious.

You ran over to Xiao to free him immediately, "Oh archons! Xiao, are you okay?" Caressing his cheeks, you frantically inspected his face for any external injuries. Those men will face your wrath if they did anything to him.

Xiao was still processing what happened, his pupils fixed at you, lips parting, "That was really... amazing of you." He wanted to tell you that you looked so gorgeous that it made him breathless, but kept his mouth sealed after. For now, he enjoys the sensation of your hands that were used to unleash such fury now stroking his face so lovingly. It is also worth mentioning that Xiao has a new profound respect for your charming side that he never knew of.

ZHONGLI

Your boyfriend maintained a tranquil state of mind when he was kidnaped. Not portraying any signs of retaliation or profound panic, it even caused the group to be unnerved with how silent Zhongli behaved.

While held hostage, the head of the abduction blabbered about how they intend to lure you here, exploiting you through Zhongli's situation for some quick money grab.

Upon hearing that, Zhongli's eyebrows twitched in a displeased manner, "So you'd rather take advantage of someone for money instead of working for it? Don't you have any dignity left?"

"Obviously! If there's an easy way to earn money, who wouldn't want to partake? Someone as sheltered and rich as your girlfriend will never understand. Don't act like you never took money from her." They ridiculed his righteous morales by bringing you in the conversation, implying Zhongli only dated you for your status.

Zhongli leaned back against the chair with an inscrutable demeanor on his face. He knew that surely someone would point out the disparity in social status between you and him. But, if they thought he only valued your wealth and nothing else, then he will have to disappoint them.

"Oh, I'm very lucky to have a wealthy partner. Something you will never understand, yes? That's why you turn to disagreeable schemes such as this." Zhongli stalled time by making mindless talks with the leader.

Not appreciating Zhongli's remark, the leader raised his arm, ready to swing at full force to land a hit, except you obstructed him. Appearing out of thin air, you found your way towards Zhongli and held a tenacious grip on the man's arm from behind before he could potentially scar your boyfriend's precious face.

The group was alarmed by your arrival and the way you constrained their leader's strike. Applying even more force to twist his arm, you contorted his limb. It caused him to arch his back and bawled in pain as he attempted to wriggle his arm out of your grasp. In contrast, you reinforced your strength and kicked the back of his knees.

Once you let go, everyone watched him squirmed in agony on the ground with your grip leaving a red imprint on his arm. Turning your head towards Zhongli, you sent him a cheeky wink, "You're one lucky man indeed."

Now channeling your attention at the group, "Who's next?"

The group charged towards you, assertive that their strengths in numbers will have more odds in winning against you, a woman who stood alone.

Thus, to prove them wrong, not only did you beat their egos to pulps, but also the entire gang. Keeping a composed manner, your limbs carried your movement with great finesse and elegance. You dodged and blocked every incoming attack, never allowing them to get a clean hit on you. Your presence dominated the flow of the battle.

Eventually, only one victor is appointed, that victor being you.

You walked back to Zhongli to untie him. You placed your hand on your hip, huffing your chest to stand proud, "How was that? Not only is your girlfriend rich, but also powerful."

Zhongli nodded in agreement, softly patting your hair as he watched you with affectionate eyes, "That was a remarkable performance to remember down the road. Guess I have a lot of things to learn about you." Although Zhongli is fully competent to defend himself if things went wrong, he found it absolutely charming of you to protect him. You were reckless, but he acknowledges your ability to fight so gracefully.

#kaeya x reader #kaeya genshin impact #xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact #zhongli x reader #zhongli genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons

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