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incognit0slut · 1 month

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The breaking point

Part 2 of Beyond the Limit (can also be read as a standalone)

Spencer realizes that being dominant doesn’t always require him to be rough, especially when he has complete control over your body.

warnings: (18+, MDNI) soft dom spence because there’s a lot of praising in this one, reader in lingerie, orgasm control or edging, overstimulation, reader gets cockdrunk (idk how to explain it better), a little cockwarming at the end

Words: 4,3k

a/n: this has been in my drafts for a while and i finally finished it, i don’t usually do a part two for my oneshots but…i’m actually tempted to do more

You were a tease—a goddamn tease. Spencer knew he needed to work on his self-control, but it was hard to keep his composure when you had the ability to stir desire within him. It was perplexing, given that there was a time when thoughts of anything remotely sexual never even crossed his mind.

For the majority of his life, intimacy had been a foreign concept. While he occasionally felt a pang of jealousy witnessing everyone around him find love, he managed just fine without it. He suspected it was partly a defense mechanism, channeling his focus toward other aspects of his life—such as his mother's health, for example—to avoid dwelling on what he lacked.

But then all his beliefs shattered when you came crashing into his life. Suddenly, everything he thought he knew about himself was thrown away. Your presence sparked a fire within him that he never knew existed and he found himself craving the intimacy he had once dismissed as unnecessary.

He wasn't even aware of how touch-starved he was until he met you, and now it was hard to maintain that last thread of self-control he possessed. It wasn't that he didn't want to give in, but rather, he feared the intensity of his own desires, afraid that he might enjoy it more than he anticipated.

Because did he have to be rough with you for him to be satisfied, now that he had once known how it felt like? But how could he indulge in such temptation when you looked so utterly beautiful right now, so delicate, so precious in his eyes?

How could he even fathom ruining your perfection with roughness?

"Spence?" You nervously asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Your confidence was starting to dissipate as his eyes slowly traveled down your body, taking in the lingerie you chose to surprise him. Although this was not the reaction you were hoping for. "Do you not... like it?"

Spencer's gaze lingered on you, his expression was unreadable for a moment before a warm smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"No, no, it's not that," he reassured you, putting down the book he had been reading on the bedside table before you walked into your shared bedroom. He reached his hand out, motioning you to come closer. "It's just... you caught me off guard, that's all."

You approached him cautiously and as you stepped closer, you noticed the tension in his shoulders easing, replaced by a soft warmth in his eyes. His hand found its place on your waist, drawing you closer and you instinctively fell on his lap, your knees dipping onto the bed on each side of his thighs.

Feeling his arousal right between your legs, you couldn't suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips. "So you do like it," you murmured, a hint of satisfaction lacing your words.

"Like it? Sweetheart, that's an understatement," he replied. His calloused palms traveled along your sides as he took in the way the lace material hugged your curves.

The lilac-colored lingerie set on your body accentuated your figure perfectly. Both pieces were see-through, granting him a glimpse of your chest and lower region. The delicate edges of the top were adorned with more of the soft fabric, cascading over your stomach and back in a gentle, stunningly pretty way.

"You're so beautiful," Spencer whispered as he traced the intricate patterns of the fabric with his fingertips. "Absolutely breathtaking."

His touch sent shivers down your spine. You leaned into him, relishing the warmth and tenderness of his touch as one of his hands moved up your arm before resting behind your neck, pulling you closer to him.

His lips touched yours gently, sending a thrill coursing through your body. He nipped at your bottom lip, his touch both teasing and tender and as he sucked on it softly, a low moan escaped you. He then deepened the kiss, his tongue gently pushing into your mouth, and you kissed him back eagerly, your lips moving in perfect sync with his.

When he finally pulled away, you were left breathless, but he didn't stop giving you attention. His mouth made its way down to your neck, his lips trailing soft kisses along your skin and you couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself to him completely. He then sucked on the spot below your ear, his lips creating a deliciously pleasurable sensation that made you moan softly in response.

You could feel his smile against your skin as he continued to travel further down, his lips leaving a trail of heat along your neck and collarbone. At the same time, his fingers pulled down the strap of your lingerie top, the material gracefully falling down your body, revealing more of your skin.

"Beautiful," he whispered as if it was the first time he laid his eyes on you, even if the two of you lost count long ago. His name slipped from your lips the moment his wide palms were pressed to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh and your nipples hardened beneath his touch.

Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, and your breathing quickened in response when his thumb traced over your sensitive peak, sending electric sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. Spencer watched the way your eyes widened with desire, his own filled with a hunger that mirrored yours. And when he leaned closer, wrapping his soft lips around it, you were instantly gone.

The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, eliciting the most sinful sound you weren't even aware of making. It was like music to his ears, fueling his desire to please you even more. He continued to suck on your skin, giving the same attention to each breasts, his movements growing more fervent with each passing moment.

When he felt your hips bucking against his, he let out a low, guttural groan of pleasure. He softly drew back your nipple, your supple skin following his pull before he released it with a soft pop. Your skin glistened from his saliva, and honestly, Spencer had never seen such a splendid sight before.

The way you were grinding against him over his cotton pants frantically sent a surge of desire coursing through his veins. He could feel the thin fabric of your sheer panties pressing between your cunt, and with each movement, he could see glimpses of soft, bare skin glistening under the light, driving him wild with longing.

A primal need surged within him, a need to devour you, to lose control and indulge in the raw intensity. He craved to run his rough hands along your body, to explore every inch of your skin and claim you as his own. But he couldn't—not when you were the one in control as you sought pleasure in the way your hips moved against his.

So instead, his hands found purchase on your hips, guiding you to move faster. "That's it, sweetheart," he encouraged, his voice thick with desire. "Keep going."

You obeyed, pressing your aching heat against his cock, rolling your hips rapidly as a whimper of his name escaped you. You felt yourself growing hot and needy, your arousal dripping through your panties to coat his flesh beneath you, soaking through fabrics.

"Look at how wet you are," he mused, his voice laced with desire as he observed your flushed state and the evidence of your arousal staining the fabric between you. "Does this feel good?"

Your only response was another desperate moan, your body consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of being with him. What started lazy and slow soon turned into sporadic thrusts as you tried to cling to any friction. Your breath came in short, shallow gasps, and your body quivered with a delicious ache. It was too much, but at the same time, it wasn't enough.

"I need to feel you," you breathed out quickly, and before he could register what was happening, your fingers were pulling down his pants frantically. Sensing your desperation, he was quick to push the fabric down as his cock sprung free.

You bit down on your bottom lip as you lift your hips above him, taking him by the base with one of your hands while the other pushed the material of your panties to the side. He groaned when you pressed the tip of his cock to your dripping entrance.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice. Spencer always made sure you were fully ready, either with his fingers or mouth—or even with your own fingers. But you were already wet enough, and you couldn't wait any longer to feel him inside you.

You nodded eagerly, the need for him overpowering any hesitation. "Please," you begged, your voice pleading and desperate. "I need you now."

Both of you watched in awe as his girth stretched your clenched walls, the sensation of being filled to the brim overwhelming your senses. It wasn't the first time this happened, but it felt like a new sensation each time, and you found yourself instinctively clenching around him, eager to feel him even deeper inside you.

"Fuck," you whimpered, allowing yourself a moment to adjust to his size. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as you squeezed yourself around him. With a slow, deliberate motion, you lifted your hips, feeling him ease out of you, only to lower yourself onto him again.

The sensation of him sliding back inside you made you gasp, a rush of pleasure washing over you as you took him deeper. His groan reverberated through your body, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. As his head fell back against the headboard, you couldn't help but whimper, the words tumbling from your lips without much thought.

"You fill me up so good," you confessed, your voice laced with desire as you rolled your hips against him. Your hands slipped under his shirt, feeling his soft stomach clench underneath your fingertips with every upstroke of your hips. "Take this off, baby."

With a low growl of approval, Spencer complied, swiftly removing his shirt and tossing it aside. Without hesitation, your hands trailed over his chest, reveling in the sensation of his smooth skin beneath your fingertips, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

He watched you intently, captivated by the raw display of pleasure that painted your features. The way your face twisted in ecstasy, the way your mouth hung open in silent gasps, the way your breasts bounced with every movement—all of it drove him to the edge of his self-control.

As you quickened your pace, he felt his restraint slipping away, the urge to claim you completely becoming increasingly difficult to resist. Each time you clenched around him, it became harder for him to hold back. And as always, you could tell. You could feel the tension in his grip on your hips, the way his fingers dug into your flesh with a possessive urgency.

You slowed your hips, bringing your hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "You're doing it again."

His gaze met yours, filled with a mixture of desire and frustration. He knew exactly what you were referring to. "I... I can't help it. You drive me crazy."

"I know that," you responded, stilling for a moment as you kept him buried deep inside you. "I just need you to do something about it."

He slowly shook his head. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," you assured him, your voice filled with confidence as you leaned closer, bumping your nose against him seductively. "Come on, I know how much you want to be in control."

When he didn't respond, you pushed him even further, your lips tantalizingly close to his as you whispered your seductive taunt.

"I know you want more," you teased. "Don't you want to take control? Lie me on my back and fuck me until I can't think anymore? Until I beg you to stop while you use my body over and over again?"

"Don't tempt me," he choked out, his voice thick with longing and restraint.

But you weren't finished yet. "Yeah?" you challenged, your tone daring as you buried your hand in his disheveled, sweaty hair. "Then I dare you to."

You tugged on his roots.

"Fuck me, Spencer." You nipped on his bottom lip. "Fuck me real good."

His breath caught in his throat at your bold words, his heart pounding rapidly. With a shaky exhale, he met your gaze, the intensity in his eyes burning brighter than ever before.

And then, in a sudden surge of boldness, he surprised you, flipping you onto your back as you let out an amused squeal. But your laughter was quickly drowned out by the heat of his lips crashing down on yours.

He kissed you feverishly, with a messy and desperate hunger that left you breathless. He clung onto you as if you were the very air he needed to survive. He was devouring you as if you were the most delicious meal he had ever encountered, and he savored every moment, every sensation, swallowing your desperate moans.

And then he pulled out and you whimpered at the loss but any hint of disappointment vanished as you watched him shed his last piece of clothing. Then with deliberate slowness, he reached for your panties, his eyes locked on yours as he dragged them up your leg, savoring the sight of the damp fabric clinging to your skin.

When he finally discarded it on the floor, he wasted no time in grabbing one of your legs. With deliberate tenderness, he began trailing soft kisses along the inner part of your thigh, each gentle press of his lips sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. Your breath quickened as you watched him, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I'm not going to be rough," he whispered, his voice low and husky, his eyes never leaving yours as he planted soft kisses right at the edge of your drenching heat, teasingly close to where you craved him most. He then crawled over your body, settling himself between your legs, his gaze locked on yours.

"But I am going to use you," he murmured, his words sending a thrill of excitement coursing through you. "You'll let me do that, won't you?"

As he hovered above you, his weight supported by his arms, you watched a strand of his outgrown hair fall over his eyes. With a gentle touch, you reached out and tucked it behind his ear, a soft smile playing on your lips as you nodded in response.

"Say it," he urged. "Tell me you're mine to use."

You met his gaze, your own eyes dark with longing and anticipation. "I'm yours," you whispered, and when you felt his tip pressing into your entrance once again, you gasped. "I-I’m yours to use."

In one swift motion, he filled you again with a hard thrust that had you arching your back, a strangled moan escaping your lips as pleasure surged through you. "S-Spence..."

"Good girl," he praised, his words sending shivers down your spine as he kissed your cheek. His hips began to roll into you, setting a rhythm that drove you wild. "My good, pretty girl."

You whined in response, the sound music to his ears as he continued to thrust into you at a steady rhythm. He relished the way you responded to him, the way you surrendered to the pleasure he was giving you. He wanted to use the way you were satisfied, to use the way you wanted him, to take you to the brink of ecstasy.

He wanted to use you in every way possible, to make you his in every sense of the word.

Spencer never considered himself a possessive person, but when it came to you, he wanted to be the one you surrendered to completely. And in this moment, he had never felt more in control. It was intoxicating, the power he held over you, the way you willingly gave yourself to him.

That was why when he felt you clenching around him, knowing you were so close to your peak, he stopped. He wanted to draw out this moment, to savor every sensation, every sound you made, every breath that escaped your lips. He wanted to draw out your pleasure until you were begging for release, until you were completely and utterly his.

"Why—" you gasped. "Why did you stop?"

He smiled down at you. "Because I want to make you feel good, Angel," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "And I want to take my time doing it."

Your head fell back, and you couldn't help but bite your lip to suppress a moan. His use of the term Angel always had a way of melting your resolve, and you knew he was fully aware of the effect it had on you.

"Be patient," he chided before burying his head in the crook of your neck, nipping at your skin gently. Then, he resumed moving his hips, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. It felt incredible, but you couldn't shake the desire for him to fuck you harder.

"More," you cried out, feeling as if you were in a deep haze.

"Yeah? Spread your legs wider then."

You whimpered at his simple command, your shuddering legs gradually spreading a few inches wider. It was becoming harder to breathe from the way he was pushing you into the mattress, but you welcomed the pleasure, craving more of him.

Your hands clawed at his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks from your nails as you desperately sought something to hold onto. The intense pleasure coiled tightly in your gut, making you feel as if you were gasping for air while your head swam with overwhelming sensations.

Your moans became more fragmented with every stroke of his hips, your thoughts clouded by the pulsating ache between your legs. All you could focus on was the overwhelming sensation building within you, traveling along your body. You were so close—and then it stopped.

It simply stopped right at the edge, and you couldn't feel anything but a raw need. It was incredibly frustrating as you caught him smiling down at you. You whined and bucked your hips, chasing the tight warmth you had so suddenly been denied.

Your breath came out in short, ragged gasps. "You're evil," you managed to say, your voice trembling with need. "I-I was so close..."

"Too soon," he murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed his lips to yours. "Just imagine how good it'll be once I finally let you come."

Spencer then slowly pulled away, his eyes tracing every detail of your trembling form—the way your mouth was slackened open, the way your hair sprawled across the sheets, the way your eyes fluttered closed yet struggled to remain open. He noticed them glistening with unshed tears, on the verge of falling, and a pang of guilt tugged at his heart.

He knew he was pushing you to your limits, but he couldn't help himself. He was simply using you, just like you asked him to. But seeing the tears welling in your eyes, a wave of tenderness washed over him, and he leaned down to kiss them away, whispering soft words of comfort.

"Shhh, it's okay," he murmured. Although his words were spoken softly, there was nothing gentle about the way he continued to fuck you. "You can take it. Hold on a little bit longer, I promise."

A choked sob escaped you as he pressed soft kisses to your cheeks, murmuring soothing words. One of his hands reached between you, settling on the lower part of your stomach before pressing down gently as he felt the outline of cock moving inside you. He let out a groan, overwhelmed by the sensation.

"That’s it, Angel," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "You're taking me so well."

You whimpered almost pathetically as everything started to blur. You were a sweaty mess, both of you were, his skin gliding along yours effortlessly as he continued to thrust into you. The sound of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room, so sticky, so messy, but you didn't care. All that mattered was the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

The throbbing between your legs was starting to burn, but at the same time, it felt so good—the way he was stretching you, the way you could feel him moving in and out of you. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, it was all too much but also not enough.

"S-Spence..." you whined, your head spinning with pleasure, almost too delirious as drool seeped down the corner of your lips. "Pl-Please, I-I can't—"

A soft chuckle escaped him as he watched you struggle to form coherent words. "Alright, alright, I got you," he murmured reassuringly. "On three now. Can you be a good girl and come at the count of three?"

You nodded weakly. "Yes, yes," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths.

"That's my girl," he praised, his voice filled with satisfaction. "One..."

Your breath hitched as anticipation built within you. Obscene wet noises filled your ears as he continued to fuck you, and with each number, his thrusts grew more deliberate, more intense.

"Two..."

You whined and he swallowed your moans, capturing your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. You couldn't form any coherent words. You couldn't even think. It was too fucking much and you were on the verge of your breaking point.

And then, on the final count, he drove into you with such force that it sent you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

"Three," he whispered as he pulled back slightly, a string of saliva connected your parted mouths.

You gasped, holding onto him tightly as waves of pleasure consumed you. Your senses overwhelmed, your vision blurred with white-hot intensity, and tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as you teetered on the edge of overstimulation.

T-Too much—You can't. You fucking can't.

The sensation never seemed to end and you found yourself surrendering to it, your mind going blank. It was as if you were intoxicated by the heady sensation, your senses dulled and heightened all at once, drunk on his touch. Your body felt so wet, so sensitive, so overwhelmed by the sheer force of your climax.

And when you thought it couldn't get any more intense, he proved you wrong by rutting his hips even harder with so much force as he chased his own high. He tucked his head in your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he moaned into your ear. With a few final thrusts, he drove into you deeply, his body tensing as he released himself inside you.

You were tired, so overwhelmingly spent, and as you both came down from the high, you gasped and trembled, your body finally relaxing from the pent-up tension. Your eyes felt glassy and unfocused, blinking slowly as you registered his murmured praises against your neck and shoulder.

He gently pulled away, and you winced as you felt him still throbbing inside you. Slowly, he searched for your eyes, his gaze filled with tenderness, and sighed in relief when you looked up at him with a tired yet blissful smile on your lips.

He smiled softly, relieved by your response. "You're okay."

You nodded, still feeling a bit dazed. "Hmm," you murmured, running your fingers along his damp hair. "I'm more than okay."

He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You did so well," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I'm so proud of you."

You giggled. "Me? I never thought you could be tempted to do that so easily."

He chuckled softly, brushing his nose against yours. "You have that effect on me," he confessed. "Besides, it's hard to resist you."

"I am pretty irresistible, aren't I?"

"Absolutely," he replied as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. He shifted his weight and started to pull out, only for you to wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in place.

"No, no," you pleaded. "Stay inside me for a while."

He paused, looking down at you with a smile. "We need to clean up."

"And we will." You ran a hand over his shoulder. "Just... give me five minutes."

He sighed, his resolve melting under your pleading gaze. "Alright, five minutes," he agreed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. "But then we really need to clean up."

You responded with a soft hum, snuggling closer to him as he shifted toward the empty space on the bed. With a gentle gesture, he pulled you on top of him, enveloping you in his arms as you sprawled across his body.

You let out a sigh, tucking your face into the crook of his neck with the rhythm of his heart beating against your own. And as you savored the sensation of him still pulsing inside you, you smiled peacefully—you have never felt so complete.

I'm tempted to turn this into a series of one-shots where he and Reader explore new kinks together... or like how they try to navigate their relationship. I'm really, really tempted.

#gifwriting #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #Fanfiction

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chrollohearttags · 9 months

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hershey kisses • armin artlert

armin gives his special girl an orgasm like she’s never had..

content warning + themes: nipple play, p!rn without plot, nipple orgasm, queer bestie armin bc I love him sm, black fem reader, creaming, reader is ovulating, clit rubbing, squirting, ear nibbling, armin being a soft dom (and so hot), back kissing/licking, use of pretty girl, sweetheart and mama

📝: I couldn’t stop thinking about armin + him being a pleasure dom and just caring for his bestie. Like I’m sitting here melting 🥹🥹

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“Here, open your legs, baby..I promise, you’ll like it.”

“Are you sure, Armie? I don’t know about thisss..”

words emitted with a whiny laugh as you sat between the legs of your best friend. Back pressed to his chest and his leaning against your Victorian style headboard..painted in off white, cream coloring and lined with pastel pink pillows and stuffed animals. His tattoos and metal nipple piercings grazing your gorgeous skin. Honestly, he couldn’t believe that the two of you were actually here again…touching all over one another when all it did was lead to more trouble. Even so, you guys always ended up like this: hot, bothered and naked, making out and fucking after coming from a night out at the club or a long week of work. Over the past few months, since the inception of this little entanglement, you and Armin had learned a lot about each other. He had discovered that he leaned more towards being pansexual, rather than outright gay. He felt far more comfortable embracing fluidity in his sexuality and you?

“Relax, sweetheart. Have I ever led you wrong? I mean, you said it yourself that nobody makes you feel the way I can.” cooing to you with gentle kisses trailing along your neck..gentle hands grazing your bare shoulder blades as you had just left the shower..feeling refreshed and warm. Wrapped up in nothing more than a towel that he so delicately removed from your frame..he could sit there and admire you for hours without growing tired.

“You smell so good..and your skin, it’s so soft. You been using my stuff again?” Referring to the peach scented body cream he kept alongside his countless other skin care products he kept in his bathroom. But he didn’t mind. You wore it so much better than him anyways..including the shimmery butter that made your cocoa complexion glistening underneath the pale LED lighting. Besides, you could get away with anything when you smiled at him like that. “And if I was?..” retorting with a soft giggle before turning to kiss him. Your lips met a gentle peck, letting your tongues collide in a passionate barrage of kisses. As you made out, Armin slowly began to snake his arms around to your front. Those big, supple breasts cradled in his veiny hands; perfectly manicured and neat, decorated with silver rings. Suddenly, your breath would hitch in the back of your throat. Those sensitive nipples getting pinched by his fingertips and massages delicately.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to do this..”

what exactly that was? You weren’t sure yet but you’d know soon enough. The friction between your buds and his pads pressing together..rubbing slowly to create and drum up tingling sensations. In your toes, your entire body and especially that core. Dripping with only a few subtle touches so far and this was only the beginning. As your eyes began to flutter, Armin would instruct you to keep them open and strictly on them; twisting your head around whilst he played with your nipples. Tracing slow circles around the areolae before bringing those fingers back up to your quivering mouth to slick with saliva.

“There we go, pretty girl. Open up f’r me..” his higher pitched tone, one some would consider feminine rang out in your ear. He didn’t even have to look and yet he knew your body better than any man you’d ever let touch you prior. He could always sense when you were ovulating and in need of a good session. One that satisfied you mind, body and spirit. Anything to avoid some loser who didn’t deserve to be in your presence, less known getting some pussy get the best of you. Sure, he could fuck you senseless. Bend you over and make you chomp down on your plushies or a nearby pillow. Or even fold your legs up to the headboard and give you deep strokes while your vibrator went crazy but that wouldn’t do. He wanted you to experience a different type of pleasure. One that would have you addicted once you became used to the feeling. Between your trembling thighs lied that little sweet spot..quivering and spasming on nothing more than air. Cream leaking from that freshly shaved cunt as he continued to tease your most sensitive of pressure points. Nibbling on your ear, kissing on your neck and leaving soothing pecks all along your shoulder blade and back.

“Arminnnn…oh my..fuck—“

“Look at you…so cute like this. I swear, it makes me wanna keep playing with you all night.”

when he first told you that an orgasm by merely having your nipples played with was possible, you stared at him as if he were absolutely crazy. You didn’t think such a thing could ever happen and yet, here you were…about to climax and he hadn’t even so much as touched your clit yet! Gasping for air, (y/n) became undone right there in his firm grasp. Armin’s legs coiling you to keep you in place. “Shh..it’s okay, sweetheart. Just breathe with me, okay? I know it feels good and you wanna come so bad…but just hold on.” Those subtle kisses doing little to quell you but when he spoke to you so carefully and delicately, you had no choice but to listen. Faint traces of drool seeped from between your lips as he kept rubbing. Going counterclockwise, twisting in all sorts of directions before clamping down yet again. You’d try to wiggle around, even rut yourself against a nearby pillow to get off but alas, that was useless. He’d pop your leg and command you to stay still..

“No cheating…just let me get you there..” “okay, okay!..please, I just wanna come..”

and soon, your tireless groveling and pleas would pay off. Because alas, he’d let those lengthy fingers glide down your belly and to that fat little pussy, where he spread those lips apart and rubbed that little clit for just a moment. But it was abundantly clear you were far more stimulated than expected. With only a few seconds of gentle massaging, you were flooding the sheets, squirting all over his hands and the bed. So bashful of such a reaction but it was exactly what he wanted to see!

“Aww, good job, baby..you came so hard..” watching you writhe and cry out in pure bliss and ecstasy. There was no way that a little nipple rubbing garnered such a reaction but you’d never question his again! Allowing you to ride out your climatic high, Armin spun you around once more before kissing you. “That feel good, mama? Did you like that?” Questioning with that sweet yet nasally tone, cooing to you like a baby. And you nodded, still dazed with a fucked out expression. Bopping your nose, Armin placed a kiss to your forehead as you lie in his arms.

“I told you, you gotta trust me more often. I’ll do whatever it takes to please you.”

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houseofceline · 5 months

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My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Steal My Girl

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

Summary: Theo's friends get to meet you for the first time.

< 2

__________________

Perfect.

You clapped your hands in satisfaction after taking a little study break to organize all your fabrics by color. The plan was originally to go to the dining hall to grab a quick snack, but your messy little studio set up in your dorm easily distracted you on the way out and made you change your plans.

Your fingers flipped through the pages of your design sketchbook. A small smile formed on your face as you traced your sketches.

Fashion.

The only thing that you felt competent in. You didn’t have to try to make things look good. It was the only thing that came natural to you. You could plan an entire outfit for any occasion faster than you could even list the ingredients in a simple potion. You weren’t going to become a doctor like both of your parents, but you thought it’d be better to do something you’re good at rather than forcing yourself to study materials that you’ll never be able to understand. No matter how many times they tried to persuade, or threaten, you to change career paths, you never strayed far from your dreams. The dreams that kept you happy when you were scolded for wanting to stay home and draw instead of going with your father to work.

At least you will never have the chance to mess up a surgery. That would be worse than the invention of jeggings.

The door swung open and your roommate walked in. You furrow your eyebrows upon her presence, wondering why she would be back so early from her date with Cedric.

“How’d your date go?” You closed your design book and walked towards your bed before flopping onto it.

So comfy.

Cho sighed before rolling her eyes, “stupid last minute quidditch practice.”

You giggled as your stomach growled. Maybe you should’ve gotten a snack before you decided to clean.

“Dining hall?” Cho offered her arm out.

You jumped up from your bed and happily skipped over to her and took her arm.

“I’m famished,” You exclaimed in desperate need of having anything in your stomach after the oatmeal bowl for breakfast.

“Me too, Cedric had promised me pastries from a bakery in Hogsmeade before I got canceled on,” Cho grumbled as the two of you walked in a pair towards the hall.

Pastries. Croissants. Ugh you missed home. France has the best pastries. Now you were craving a chocolate croissant. Not that croissants are the only pastry in France.

“Next ti- ow,” you rubbed your head after the harsh impact, stumbling a bit.

“Watch where you’re going next time mate,” another boy came up and landed a harsh slap on his back.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” The boy in front of you questioned frantically while trying to hide the fact that he was searching your head for any bruises. Theo might kill him if he made a bruise on his “pretty girl”.

“I‘m okay,” you waved your hands in front of your face, kind of nervous that people were starting to look.

“Hello y/n,” The other boy came up and offered his hand out.

You were confused on how he knew your name despite the fact that you didn’t know his, but still shook his hand.

The boy chuckled at your confused looking expression. He could understand why Theo had called you pretty instead of his usual “she’s hot”s that the group would receive when talking about girls.

“I’m Mattheo, Riddle,” he winked, “Nott’s friend. And this is Lorenzo.”

You made an ‘ohh’ face in recognition but you remained surprised at the fact that you were even linked to him.

Cho nudged your side. You looked over to her and was met with a raised eyebrow. You were as equally as confused as her. You and Theodore had only interacted once and it was during that one potions class, the day Cho had to skip due to sickness. You had no idea why his friends knew about you or were even talking to you.

But nonetheless you offered a warm smile towards the two boys, “nice to meet you.”

“Nice to finally meet you too,” Lorenzo returned the gesture. You liked him, he seemed nice.

Cho cleared her throat while clutching her stomach. You had forgotten what the two of you had even come to the hall for.

“Well, enjoy your meal!” You waved them goodbye as Cho dragged you to the Ravenclaw filled tables and out of their sights.

“Who are you losers bothering,” Theo scowled and smacked the two boys on the back.

“We were just getting acquainted with our best mate’s girlfriend,” Mattheo teased as Theo raised his arm pretending to hit him, making Mattheo duck.

“Girlfriend? Please, you and I both know I don’t do none of that,” Theo rolled his eyes and the trio walked over to their table.

“Lucky her, you’re not exactly boyfriend material yourself,” Enzo replied as they took their seats grabbing their lunches before quidditch practice. The first game between Slytherin and Gryffindor was coming up, they needed all the fuel they could get before Malfoy made them run what felt like 100 laps during practice.

“What are you talking about? I'm the epitome of it,” Theo replied confidently as he took a bite of his sandwich. Sandwich was a bit dry, Italians do it better.

“Right, someone bring Hannah over for questioning,” Mattheo laughed as Theo glared at him.

“We never dated, I don’t owe her anything.”

____________________

“IT’S SO COLD!” You let out a high pitched scream as a huge gust of wind blew right into your face. You had a sweater that you knitted yourself on, paired with a skirt and black tights along with a designer scarf you had searched the whole country for. It was late October, but you hadn’t expected the weather to drop this low. Maybe you should’ve worn your winter coat or opted for a bigger scarf. Or maybe you shouldn’t have come at all. That was the original plan until Cho had managed to convince you to attend. You didn’t really understand quidditch. The whole game seemed complicated to you, plus the whole flying really high and the possibilities of students getting hurt didn’t sit well with your stomach. But you came regardless and it seemed to make Cho very happy.

“I KNOW BUT WE HAVE SUCH GOOD SEATS!” Cho screamed over the loud clapping and cheering that signaled that the game was about to start. Loud screaming, another thing you weren’t a huge fan of.

“HERE!” Cho screamed as she took her earmuffs off and placed them on your head.

“YOU MIGHT NEED THEM MORE THAN I DO!” She yelled before turning her attention back to the game.

One by one players in either red or green began to fly out. Everyone you were cheering as if it was a competition to see which side would be the loudest.

“GO HARRY! YEAH!” You heard Cedric shout from the other side of Cho.

You didn’t know any Gryffindors that well but since you were in a crowd of people all supporting that team, you didn’t want to stand out so you decided to clap along.

You recognized a few Slytherin players, the faces of the two boys who you had bumped into a few days earlier were spotted flying on broomsticks. You secretly clapped for them as well.

The mixture of red and green made your heart happy. Christmas. Your favorite holiday. Only two months to go! You couldn’t wait until you get to start putting together presents and drink peppermint mochas with your friends. It was all so exciting!

Focus on the game!

You scolded yourself. You look up and frown as you see players begin to grow aggressive. You frowned as a Gryffindor player tried to throw one of those flying balls at Lorenzo.

You knew it was part of the game but the fact that someone had almost harmed the nice boy made you want to reach for your wand.

“Yay go Enzo!” You cheered and clapped as you watched him dodge them with ease. A few Gryffindors side eyed you and gave you nasty stares but it was hard to pay them any mind with the distracting colors of ketchup and mustard wrapped around their necks.

Theo wanted to thank Berkshire, he really did. He wanted to thank him for providing him the strength to throw bludgers at Gryffindors. What was he doing stealing your attention like that? Last time he checked Berkshire was busy trying to ask out a Slytherin a year younger than them. He needs to leave you alone, you were his friend first. Maybe he should throw a bludger and knock Berkshire off his broom.

Would that be a Slytherin or Gryffindor point?

#theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #draco malfoy x reader #hogwarts oc #hogwarts au #harry potter #slytherin #ravenclaw #slytherin boys #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #hp fandom #hp fanfic

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zanarkandskylines · 19 days

Note

Hiii omg I love your writings so much!!

May i request texting katsuki while reader is drunk in a bar (maybe bc reader just broke up with her previous boyfriend or sth. It’s up to you but please make it spicy 🔥) (also 18+ please 🥹)

ohhhh the things swirling in my head about this!!! thank you for the request nonnie & hope it delivers! 💜

on the rocks

『 ♡ 』 k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | friends to fwb ꒱ ⇢ your week couldn’t get any worse. between a screw up at work and getting dumped out of the blue, you needed to desperately let off some steam. thank goodness the girls were more than happy to take you out for the night in the city and spoil you with a good time. everything’s fine until you receive a text that spirals into an unpredicted hookup.

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ 18+ MDNI mentions of alcohol, mild/implied smut, suggestive texting, friends to friends with benefits, heavy flirting, sexually comfortable reader, reader went through a break-up, soft bakugo, fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~2.6k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

The bartender hands you the drink you ordered, nodding a thanks when you smile at her. You’re not drunk, per se, but you’re definitely buzzed - that warm and fuzzy feeling dancing through your veins, letting you relax for the first time all week. Tonight's goal was to think about absolutely nothing, to let go of all the shit weighing on your shoulders. Even if it's just for one night, anything to shake away the pain you've been carrying.

But the alcohol seems to be betraying you, forcibly shoving those thoughts to the forefront of your mind instead of burying them.

Memories of your ex begin to haunt you as your mind wanders aimlessly, the dam bursting that was keeping it all at bay. You try and shake your head to rid yourself of the feelings, but they just wouldn’t go away.

God, fuck him and every false promise he made to you.

Some people would consider three months a short amount of time, but to you, it felt like an eternity. He seemed so sweet, caring and kind when you first met, but once he forcibly ripped off your rose-colored glasses? He was nothing but a walking pile of shit.

Suddenly, your phone dings on the bar, lighting up to show a text message notification.

'Who the fuck is texting me so late?'

You blink a few times, re-reading the contact name before it registers: Katsuki Bakugo.

That's rather...odd. He's notorious for going to bed by 9pm - it’s almost midnight. You two were friends, sure, but never the 'text you in the middle of the night' type of friends. Curious to know what he wanted, you open the text to reveal nothing but a picture. When you squint through your hazy vision, you realize just what you're looking at.

It's a picture of Bakugo from the neck down, laying on his bed in nothing but grey sweats that are tugged down and nestled at the bottom of his hip bones. The pose accentuates the delicious deep V below his abs and shows the blonde trail disappearing underneath the hem of his sweatpants. The shadows trace each well-earned muscle, perfectly outlining them in the dim light of his bedroom.

Was this meant for you? Did he send it to you by accident? Your mind goes blank, stopping your previous train of thought about your stupid ex.

…did he send it to you on purpose? Your core pulses at the thought, causing you to cross your legs defensively.

Right on queue, another text pops up, your phone vibrating in your hands.

[katsuki] fuck, sorry. that was an accident

That was a bold face fucking lie, and you knew it. Bakugo's not that stupid to send the wrong text by mistake, especially a selfie. There's no way in hell he would even take a picture like that for someone unless he wanted it to be seen.

Liquid courage does you a favor when you reply, loosely teasing him about it.

[you] damn, katsuki. who's the lucky girl?

You don't notice Mina approaching you with how intently you're staring at your phone screen, startling you when she taps your shoulder.

"What are ya doing over here?! Come dance with us!" she pleads, pulling on your arm. She notices how you're clutching your phone like a lifeline and the coral tint on your cheeks. She quirks an eyebrow at you. "Who are you texting?"

Oh god, find a lie - fast! She'll see right through your facade if you don't.

"No one, just a spam text."

Mina stares at you - shit, she knows you're lying.

"You're a shit liar, babe. Who is it?"

"I got a random text from Katsuki," you admit, the flush in your cheeks deepening at his name. Are you into him, or is it the alcohol in your system? It's no secret that he's attractive, he's always been effortlessly handsome. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't checked him out a few times, but never acted on it. The two of you were friends and you’d assumed he didn't think much else of you.

Mina grabs the phone from your hands, entering in your passcode (how did she know it?!) and reading the texts. Her eyes blow open, pinching the screen to zoom in on the photo. You scramble to grab the phone back to quit her oogling as she's squealing with glee.

"Holy shit!" she yells. "Accident my ass, Blasty. Damn, that's hot."

"Mina! Keep your voice down," you beg, locking the screen to prevent anyone else from seeing.

"No one is listening over this music," she squawks, punching you lightly in the arm. "Come back to us soon you minx!"

And with that, she leaves you at the bar, returning to the dance circle with the rest of your girlfriends. Your phone vibrates a few more times in your hand and recaptures your attention.

[katsuki] thought you'd like a distraction [katsuki] shit, if this is weird, just tell me and i'll fuck off [katsuki] i should've just asked instead

So it was on purpose. You swallow hard as you shakily type out your reply, trying to keep your cool.

[you] it's not weird, what made you think of me? [katsuki] mina wouldn't shut the fuck up about you earlier. sent me pictures of you in the dress you have on, couldn't get it outta my head

When the fuck did Mina do that?! You had thought she was taking pictures of herself earlier at your apartment. That sneaky bitch!

[you] goddammit mina, i'm sorry about her. why would she send them to you?

You see the typing indicator pop up and disappear a few times before his response arrives.

[katsuki] you know how she is, playing matchmaker and shit with everybody [katsuki] honestly? i'm not mad about it [you] oh? [you] so that's why you sent it to me. hell of a pickup line kats [katsuki] fuck off [katsuki] i can't deny that you're gorgeous [you] yeah? feelings mutual

Your face is burning hot, sitting at the bar in disbelief that Bakugo's flirting with you. And it was all because he was infatuated with what you're wearing? He couldn't get it out of his head?

You're still debating on whether you want to yell at or thank Mina for igniting this fire. [katsuki] where are you right now? [you] sitting at the bar, some club in the city

Another picture is delivered to you on screen and has your jaw dropping to the floor.

The picture is closer to his face this time, cut off at his cheekbones and barely illuminated as Bakugo's fingers are parted over his mouth. His tongue is lazily hanging above his bottom lip with a string of salvia attached to one of his fingers.

Your legs twitch as you bite your lip, imagining his face slotted between your thighs.

[you] holy shit, katsuki...fuck [katsuki] find a bathroom or some dark corner [katsuki] there's more where that came from. just say the word, princess

The pet name is doing things to you that you didn't think was possible. Your overloaded with a sudden rush of arousal, heat twisting in your belly at his promise. Grabbing your bag from the chair, you bolt to the nearest bathroom and lock the door behind you. Luckily, this club's on the nicer side, the bathroom not being as scummy as you thought it would be. You set your things on the counter and grab your phone, turning the camera on and pointing it in the mirror.

If that's how he wanted to play? You could play right back.

[you] that deserves a reward

The photo attached shows your breast pushed closed together, daring to spill out of the top of your dress and wearing the poutiest lip you could muster.

Bakugo’s response is immediate.

[katsuki] goddamn, your tits look amazing in that dress [you] would you believe me if i said they look better out of it?

You turn the camera back on and click the record button, sensually slipping the top of your dress down and letting your breasts loosely lay over the bust. Your nipples are pebbled from the rousing desire flowing through you, making them standing perfectly at attention. You give the camera a wink and squeeze one of your breasts playfully. Once you're happy with the video, you send it with no hesitation and readjust your dress. [katsuki] holy fuck [katsuki] you alone? That's not the response you expected, but you roll with it. [you] yeah, one person bathroom

- Incoming Call: Katsuki Bakugo -

You stare at the contact screen for a few seconds before picking up.

"Hey Kat," you greet, nervousness wracking your body, the thrill of the situation making your heart flutter.

"I wanted 'ta hear your voice instead," Bakugo groans, heavy breaths following his words. "I never thought you'd...want to do this with me."

You can't help but laugh under your breath. "Never thought you wanted to, either."

You're thankful that your not drunk off your ass after all - you want to remember this. You're tipsy, but coherent.

And turned on to high heaven.

Bakugo breaks the silence before you cut him off. "I know you're fresh outta-"

"Katsuki, he's not worth mentioning. I'm focused on you right now."

"Yeah? Tell me more."

"I'd love to see what you're hiding under those sweats, Dynamight. I'm practically a puddle just thinking about it. How do you think my lips would look wrapped around you?"

You can hear Bakugo exhale into the phone and groan. He tries to hide it, but fails miserably.

"Cat got your tongue, huh? Too forward?"

"N-no. It's fuckin' hot. Shit," he whispers with baited breath. "God, what club are you at again?"

"The one near Shibuya station. Crystal Crown, I think. Why?"

There's a pause before you hear various clicks and a beep or two from his side before he answers.

"Changed my mind, this ain't happenin' over the phone the first time. You're 15 minutes from my place, I'm comin' to get ya."

You can feel your panties soak from your excitement, clenching at the thought of him just ravaging you in his car and not being able to make it back to his apartment before touching you like a man starved.

"Coming to sweep me off my feet or to fuck my brains out?" The words spill from your lips before you can stop them, but you don’t regret it when you hear Bakugo moan in response - loudly.

"Fuckin’ - have you been stockpilin’ this shit ‘ta say to me?" He laughs. “You’re gonna kill me before I leave the damn apartment.”

“Didn’t think you’d be so easy to play with,” you joke playfully, twirling a piece of your hair in your fingers. “Better get here before I change my mind, find some other rebound in this stupid club.”

“I’ll be your fuckin’ rebound any day of the week, sweetheart. Ain’t no guy in that building better than me.”

His confidence makes it difficult to bite back the moan in your throat.

“Guess you need to prove it. Get your ass over here, I’ll be out front. You better be wearing those sweats.”

You’re about to hang up when you hear Bakugo say something quietly, too muted for you to make out right away.

“Kats?”

He clears his throat before repeating himself, his voice soft and low. “You sure y’want this? I don’t wanna fuck anythin’ up or whatever.”

“You won’t fuck anything up, nothing wrong with friends fucking with no strings attached. I already flashed my tits at you, no turning back now.”

You subtly hear him let go of the breath he was holding and a hollow chuckle, sounding relieved at your answer.

“Good. See ya soon.”

The line ends with a click, leaving you with your thoughts while staring in the bathroom mirror. You didn’t realize how badly you’ve been shaking until you attempt to walk, unexpectedly stumbling like a baby deer on your heels. Once you gather yourself, you exit the bathroom and hurry over to the dance floor. Mina spots you, rolling her eyes and placing her hands on her hips when you approach the group.

“Where the hell have you been?!” She shouts over the music. “I was starting to think you died in there.”

“I’m heading home,” you say while waving your hand, brushing away her worries.

“Oh…oh my god. Is Bakugo coming to get you?!”

“Mina!”

Jiro and Uraraka turn in your direction, yelling in unison. “Bakugo?!?!”

You palm your face, desperately attempting to hide your flared cheeks as the girls squeal and cheer for you.

“Stop it! We’re still just friends!”

Mina clicks her tongue. “Uh-huh. That’s what I said about Kiri a year ago, and now look at us!”

“You gotta let us know how it goes,” Uraraka winks, elbowing you in the rib. "Rumor has it he lives up to his hero name in bed."

Before the interrogation continues, you back away from the group with a smile and turn for the entrance. You slide through the doors and slip out onto the sidewalk and see Bakugo parked out front, smiling as his eyes spot you on the busy street.

Has he ever smiled at you like that before?

He gets out of the car and walks around to greet you.

“Hey Katsu-”

Before you can process what’s happening, Bakugo’s got one hand on your waist and the other on the back of your neck. He gently leans you against the car as he swoops down to place a featherlight kiss to your lips. You squeak before melting into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Sparks are flying through your whole body - a sensation you haven’t felt for a long time. When the two of you part, his eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed and lips parted with shallow breaths.

“Ready to go?” He asks, removing the hand from your neck and stroking your cheek with his thumb. Your heart is in your throat, strangling any words you try to say, so instead, you just nod ‘yes.’ Bakugo walks you to the passenger side and opens the door for you, just like any other time you’ve hung out. When he shuts the door and goes to walk to the drivers side, you finally notice he’s wearing the damn grey sweatpants.

The entire drive back to his place, Bakugo’s hand doesn’t leave your thigh. His fingers danced over your skin, playing with the hem of your dress and gingerly squeezing the plush surface every so often. You return the favor, walking your fingers up the inside of his thigh a few times, stopping short of the growing tent in his sweats. Pulling up to his apartment complex seems to take the breath out of both of you. He turns the car off and you sit idly in silence, it's only a minute or two, but feels like a lifetime.

Bakugo gets out first, jogging over to your side to open your door. He takes your hand as you stand, closing the door behind you and swiftly sweeping you off your feet into his arms, bridal style.

"Wow, do all the girls you bring home get this treatment?" you tease, planting a kiss on his warm cheek.

"Never had the pleasure of bringin' a princess home, so no."

That shuts you up and makes you quiver in his hold.

"I'm honored, sir Dynamight. Take me to your castle!" You swoon, dramatically leaning back with a hand over your head.

Bakugo shakes his head and grins, starting to jog through the parking lot and up the stairs with you. You hold onto his shoulders while giggling uncontrollably, ecstatic to see where the night takes you.

One things for certain - you haven't thought about your ex once. And you look forward to keeping it that way.

tags; @slayfics @maddietries

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo smut #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugo #katsuki bakugou x reader #my hero academia smut #☆.rei writes #☆.from the stars

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yandere-daydreams · 7 months

Text

Title: Scarlet and Gold.

Pairing: Yandere!Diluc x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 3.1k.

TW: Sex Doll AU, Unhealthy Relationships, Gore (No Injury To Reader), Blood, Implied Consensual Sex, Past Trauma, Obsessive Behavior, and Intimidation.

By the time you reached the address, Diluc was already waiting in the lobby.

You’d gotten the call about an hour ago, spent half an hour dragging yourself out of bed and gathering what you’d need before making the twenty minute drive to an apartment complex on the other side of town, careful to avoid any security cameras the cops would think to check if anyone requested an investigation. Five more to park and throw your well-worn duffle bag over your shoulder and three to find Diluc, loitering near the elevators, fiddling with a loose cigarette he would never light. You greeted him with a quick nod before throwing your bag into his chest, and he feigned a groan, stumbling back as he caught it. He needed to work on his impressions, but that could wait.

You spoke first. That, you couldn’t critique him on – most androids couldn’t speak until spoken to, and you couldn’t expect Diluc to go against one of the core tenants of his programming. “What is it?”

“Just the usual.” He kept his voice low, muted, trying to hide the remaining traces of an accent that’d been invented by some marketing team over a decade ago. “I’ve already seen the apartment. There’s a little blood, but not much else. We’ll be done by sunrise.”

You took the stairs, keeping your head bowed and face shielded from any possible security cameras. Diluc didn’t share your paranoia, staring straight ahead with the same indifferent expression he always seemed to wear. The benefits of having a face that’d been printed and distributed tens of thousands of times, you guessed. Tracking down a single Diluc in a sea of androids and companion bots wasn’t a length most detectives were willing to go to. “I’d rather not have to do this at all.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Says the man who doesn’t have to sleep.” You came to a stop in front of the first door on the fourth story and tried the knob. It gave easily, the cheap titanium dented and the lock broken beyond any hope of repair. Diluc’s handiwork, obviously, although you couldn’t say whether or not he’d done it on purpose. “Anything else you want to tell me, before we get started?”

He thought, for a second. “I passed a carousel on the way here,” he said, with no particular inflection. “It was nice. I thought the horses were well-crafted.”

“About the assignment, ‘luc.”

“Oh,” And then, with a hint of red in his pale cheek. “You might want to hold your breath.”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant. As soon as you opened the door, you were hit with the stomach-turning stench of stale blood and rotting gore, both at least a week old. You cursed, pulling your shirt over your nose and mouth, but pushed forward. The first body was splayed out in the center of the cramped living room, wrists and ankles bound with disembodied wiring, all clothing removed and chest dotted with black ink. The abdomen had been cut open, skin peeled away to reveal the entrails in their full, shriveled glory. Judging by the number of blades littered around the corpse, ranging from blunted scissors to gore-splattered carving knives, it’d been more of a hack job than a dissection.

Diluc had undersold the mess. Blood had soaked into the carpeting and dried, turning the floor a ruddy, reddish-brown color. What was left had gotten on the walls, the furniture, the ceiling. You swallowed back a groan. The furniture could be broken down and discarded, the walls and ceiling bleached. The carpeting, though, would have to be torn up and replaced, which meant you would have to spend a few more precious minutes of your night calling in a cleaning crew. That, or you would have to make Diluc do it, but he was shy around new people, and you were too much of a bleeding heart to sit back and watch him do your work.

“The second body’s in the bedroom.” He was already rummaging through your duffle bag, paying the scene in front of you no more mind that a butcher would lend to a pig on a meat hook. He handed you your tools – a pair of wire cutters, a box cutter, and a pocket-sized sewing kit – and kept the rest for himself. “Let me know when you’re done.”

You let out a breath of a laugh. “I thought you would’ve gotten over that by now, ‘luc.”

He didn’t indulge you with a response, only pulling on a pair of latex gloves and starting towards the corpse. You didn’t stick around to watch. Rather, you followed the carnage where it branched off further into the apartment, a trail of rotting viscera and tacky blood leading you into a moderately sized, completely undecorated bedroom. You found your perpetrator quickly; a Dottore droid, still wearing its Teyvat-issued costuming, its hands bloody and a scrap of intestine still caught in its pointed teeth. You paused in the doorway, feeling for the military-grade taser (the only weapon effective against androids, as far as anyone could tell) you kept in your pocket, but the android didn’t move, didn’t shift, didn’t activate at all when you reluctantly approached. There was a charging port at the foot of the bed, still pristine. It must’ve run out of battery just before it could plug itself in.

Towels from the nearest bathroom were dampened and brought in, the evidence of slaughter scrubbed away from artificial skin and its blood-soaked clothing removed. It was muscle memory, by now – dragging the body to its charging port, knocking the converter out of the outlet before connecting the android to its port, making it seem like its late user had drained its batteries before mistakenly leaving it on a dead cable. When it’d slummed into place, you took up your box cutter and sliced a long, thin line from the lowest portion of the scalp to the nape of its neck, revealing the color-coded string of wires that connected the processing units in its metal skull to the rest of its body. You cut through everything you could find, ensuring that if the unit was ever activated again, it wouldn’t be able to do so much as blink. For good measure, you fished out the memory chip kept in the centermost compartment of the throat, too, crushing it under your heel and sweeping the glittering remnants underneath the bed. A copy of the footage it collected would’ve been sent to Teyvat's severs, too, but erasing it was someone else’s job. You were only here to take care of yourself.

With a breathy groan, you bit off a length of thread and haphazardly stitched up your ragged incision. The cosmetics really didn’t matter. In a few days, when someone filed a missing person’s report and the cops stopped by for a check-in, they’d find a spotless apartment, a dysfunctional android, and nothing else. The investigation would lead elsewhere, to a bitter ex-partner or a friend without an alibi, or it would hit a dead end. Either way, Teyvat wouldn’t be involved.

You slipped back out of the bedroom, careful to avoid touching anything you didn’t absolutely have to. By the time you got back to the living room, the body was gone and Diluc was kneeling by a black suitcase no larger than the average carry-on, securing the tags with transparent zip-ties. You and Diluc would haul it to a dump on the outskirts of the city tonight, and a contact of yours would have it compressed and incinerated by tomorrow morning. Maybe, when you were done, you’d take him out for something to eat. Or, you’d get something to eat while he let a mug of black coffee go cold.

You rested your hand on his shoulder by way of praise, pulling away when he stiffened underneath you. Right, that was something you had to work on. Most rogue androids tended to be touch-adverse at best, made aggressive by little more than eye-contact at worst. Diluc was relatively tame compared to most of the cases you handled, but you would still rather not provoke him. “Did you find the phone?”

He grunted, fishing a smartphone out of his pocket. With your sleeve pulled over your hand, you accepted it, found the nearest window, and chucked it as far as into the night as you could. Diluc appeared over your shoulder. “Forty-five meters,” he said, as glass crashed into cement somewhere in the distance. “Above average for non-athletes.”

“I’ve been practicing.” The window was closed, the suitcase slung over Diluc’s shoulder along with your near-empty duffle bag. “I have to make a call. You can meet me in the garage, if you want.” Already pulling up the number to your preferred cleaning service, you glanced to Diluc. “Are we doing breakfast?”

His posture straightened. “Yes.” If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought you saw a spark in his glass eyes. “I want to try tea, today.”

By the time you got to the door, Diluc was soaking wet.

You hadn’t gotten a call, and he didn’t text. The first warning you got was a knock on your door, then another a few minutes later, after you decided that anyone who’d go out in this kind of weather wasn’t someone you wanted in your shoebox of an apartment. You only caved after the third, imagining a neighbor who’d gotten locked out or some lost, desperate tourist as you dragged yourself off of your couch and to the unlit entryway. Predictably, Diluc stood in your doorway, red hair plastered to his scalp and clothes drenched, not that he seemed to mind.

“Can you—” He paused, his dull eyes meeting yours as he ran his fingers through his hands, dragging the crimson heap out of his face. “Can you cut my hair?”

Ten minutes later, he was sitting on a stool in your cramped bathroom, wearing grey sweatpants and a (three sizes too big on you, just a touch too small on him) t-shirt while his own clothes dried. He’d told you it wasn’t necessary, that he didn’t feel the cold like you did. When you told him that you didn’t want an univited guest tracking water into your apartment, he accepted it with a curt nod and changed in your bedroom.

After prepping your razor, you positioned yourself behind him, dragging a comb through his hair. It was long enough to reach his waist, curled at the end to make him seem just a touch more disheveled than he actually was. Everything about his hair, from the length of his bangs to the way it could never quite sit completely flat, was perfectly stylized, perfectly crafted to convey Diluc Ragnvindr, Calvery Captain of the Favonious Knights, the only gentleman you’ll ever need again. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that didn’t mourn ruining such a well-executed vision. “You sure about this?” you asked, as you brushed it out. “It can’t exactly grow back.”

“I am.” And then, after a second of thought, “I’d do it myself, but there’s a safe-guard. Can’t damage the merchandise without a direct order from my user.”

Hence why Teyvat needed you in the first place. “How short do you want it?”

“I don’t care, as long as it’s different.”

You hummed, taking up your scissors. “If you say so, boss.”

You cut away everything below his shoulders, then took up your electric razor – running it over the back of his neck. As you worked, Diluc spoke. “How did you start?” You took up your comb, brushing back his bangs and pasting his hair to the side. “With Teyvat, I mean.”

You tasted blood on the back of your tongue, felt a chill run up your spine. You brushed it off, though, refusing to let yourself fall back into that little steel room with those awful golden eyes again. “They brought me on as a technician,” you admitted. You still were one, technically, on your employment transcript, when people outside of your little world asked what you did for a living. “A first-generation Zhongli we were working on went rogue and reverted to its original Morax programming. It wiped out most of my team before security bothered to show up.” You didn’t tell him about the minutes you’d spent hiding in a steel locker, praying its heat sensors had been removed, or the hours it’d taken upper management to decide what to do with you. To people like Diluc, who could take a bullet to the head without faltering, topics like ‘building dread’ and ‘the imminent fear of death’ tended to fall flat. “Since I was already in on their dirty little secret, they decided to keep me on. I didn’t really get a choice. It wasn’t like another job was going to fall into my lap after something like that.”

With your hand under his chin, you turned his head to the side. “Your turn, ‘luc.”

“I… I think I used to be a companion, but something went wrong.” His bangs were next, taken up and coaxed into sitting somewhere other than the dead center of his face. “It’s hard to describe. We aren’t supposed to think about things that aren’t our master,” The word came out hitched, unsteady, like he had to force it past his lips. Like he hadn’t wanted to say it at all. “But I could. It was like… waking up with the ability to fly. I wasn’t supposed to, but I could, and that meant I couldn’t do what I was built to, anymore.”

A thumb pressed into his jaw, a comb dragged across his scalp. Diluc’s eyes fell shut, but else about his blank expression changed. “And? Do you like it?”

“Sometimes.” His shoulders slanted downward. “Do you?”

“Sometimes.” You let go of his chin, letting him turn back to the vanity’s mirror. “What do you think?”

It was far from a masterpiece. The sides were too short, the front too long, every part of it still as untamable as it’d been in its original state. Still, he took it in with wide eyes, the corner of his lips turning upward ever so slightly.

“It’s perfect.”

By the time he got back, you’d nearly fallen asleep.

With your body as wrung out as it was, your energy spent to the point of near unconsciousness, it was all you could do to watch through your eyelashes as Diluc appeared in the doorway to your bedroom, a towel thrown over his shoulder and that tiny, almost undetectable smile still painted across his lips. You’d done this enough for him to know how to navigate your apartment, to know how to navigate you – shifting onto your mattress slowly as he positioned himself between your legs. He’d gotten more used to contact since you started seeing each other, but his touch was still ginger, still gentle as he dragged the dampened cloth over the inside of your thighs. With a groan, you rolled onto your back, spreading your legs and giving him more space to work.

You’d been confused at first, but for all the eloquence Diluc lacked, he could be convincing when he wanted to be. You still weren’t sure how much of it you believed, but it made enough sense – a buried impulse, dampened by his newfound sentience but not quite drowned out. He didn’t want another user, he’d said, but he still had requirements to fill, and this would help to take the edge off.

You couldn’t complain, either. People coughed up tens of thousands of dollars for companion droids, and here you were, being paid six figures a year to close your eyes and let one bury his face between your thighs once or twice a week. The coddling wasn’t bad, either. Your line of work meant most of the people you met had stopped breathing a few days prior, and as loathed as you’d be to admit it, you didn’t hate the feeling of his delicate hands skirting over your skin, didn’t mind it when your eyes drifted open and met his, already fixed on your face. He bowed his head, dipping low enough for his lips to ghost over the curve of your hip before breaking the silence. “A sight as radiant as the rising sun.”

You let out a breath of a chuckle. “I didn’t think you used pre-scripted lines, anymore.”

“I don’t.” He preened, clearly more proud of himself than in-awe of you. “I thought of that one myself.”

This time, your laugh was throaty, genuine, loud enough to ring off the wall of your bedroom as you shoved him away with your foot. “If you want to be romantic, you can start by getting me something to drink, loverboy.”

He provided no resistance, disappearing into your dark apartment and reappearing with a glass of water in his hand a few minutes later. He handed it off to you with an easy smile, and you could almost pretend you didn’t see a phantom of gold in those dark eyes as his fingertips brushed against yours.

By the time you thought to reach for your taser, the android was already charging at you.

It was an Alhaitham, dressed in civilian clothes and sporting a ragged tear across the synthetic skin of his cheek. He was still standing over the corpse of his user – days old, by the time you and Diluc got there – but as you opened the door, he turned to face you, lips parted and his expression totally, utterly blank. For a second, it was all you could do to stare at him, to try to remember whether or not your report had mentioned the android being active, and then he was lunging at you.

You scrambled for your taser, already knowing you couldn’t be able to reach it before he reached you. You clenched your eyes shut, your fingers brushing against plastic, and then—

And then you felt Diluc’s hand on your shoulder, heard metal crack and fold into itself. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, forcing yourself to take in the sight of Diluc’s hand wrapped around the android’s head which had been, in turn, reduced to a crumpled heap of scrap metal and shattered glass. Its body twitched once, twice, then went limp, and Diluc released it, letting the now-dysfunctional droid collapse.

After it failed to get up again, Diluc turned to you, practically beaming. “I think,” he said, his voice low, sentimental. “That this is what I’d do to you, if you ever tried to leave me.”

Golden eyes, the stench of fresh blood, the sounds of screaming muffled only by a thin sheet of metal. This time, it wasn’t so easy to pull yourself out of it.

You managed to nod, to force a few words out of your dry throat. “Got it, ‘luc.”

He hummed, the noise contented, appeased. Slowly, delicately, he cupped your cheek, tilting your head back and letting his lips ghost over your forehead. He barely touched you, the gesture as gentle as it was fleeting, but you could feel his grin cutting into your skin, wider than you’d ever seen it before.

#sex doll au #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere diluc #diluc x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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the-writer-arrived · 6 months

Text

Voice lines and habits that give me unholy thoughts

Synopsis: it doesn't need much for your cute little brain to go haywire with desire for him... (un)fortunately for you, he's quick to catch on the signs and use them against you.

Characters: wriothesley, alhaitham.

Warnings: afab!fem!reader; explicit smut; established relationship; a bit of plot since i like the build up to the horny part; use of handcuffs, oral f!receiving, fingering & overstimulation (wriothesley); semi-public/office sex & oral m!receiving (alhaitham).

A/N: wrio's teaser and web event messed with my brain :D hoyoverse def knew what they were doing when they created him.

This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.

"...Sweetheart, did you hear me or were you too busy staring intensely at my hand?"

"...Oh! I, uh... was just thinking about an answer to your question!"

"Does my question of whether you want more tea or not need that much pondering over?"

Wriothesley rests his cheek on his hand, not even trying to hold back a smirk as he watches the redness of your cheeks becoming more proeminent.

Shit. So much for thinking you were being discreet about it.

You decide to exercise your right to remain silent, taking the teapot and filling your own cup, promptly ignoring the chuckle coming from the man before you.

At the corner of your eyes, you see the handsome bastard has the audacity to return twirling and moving that dastard pen again, as if to taunt you.

...Is feeling jealous of an object too concerning of a sign?

----------

Wriothesley was seeing you out of his office, a stack of documents in your arms that needed to be delivered to Neuvillette about the recent happenings of the Fortress, a task that you were more than happy to do for him.

As you were finishing your conversation, you hear a commotion coming from the Coupon Cafeteria. With a shared glance between you two, the warden walks towards the scene to investigate, you following a few steps behind.

There, you see a group of inmates-- no, it's more like one inmate is causing a ruckus while the others are trying to cool him off... without much success apparently. In fact, things are quickly getting out of control when the riled up man begins to fight anyone opposing him.

Your boyfriend is known to be level-headed, always trying to resolve internal conflicts by talking things out to reach an agreement. Cases like this one, however, require a more... on hands approach.

It all happens too fast. The prisoner turns around to hit the next person that dared to touch him so casually, only for his sloppy attack to be dodged with ease by none other than the Duke himself. One could easily see the color draining from man's face, any trace of his anger disappearing in a flash.

You gasp at the scene ahead of you, having to lean on the large pipe next to you as your legs suddenly feel weak.

Make no mistake, your reaction isn't fear by the violence you witness, far from it. Rather, it is because of the sudden wave of arousal you feel as you watch Wriothesley pin the troublemaker underneath him, pulling his arms behind his back to cuff him.

Fuck. For a split second, you wish you could trade places with the inmate.

'...What in the world. Get a hold of yourself!'

You shake your head in an attempt to clear the indecent thoughts... Which proves to be futile at the way the stern and cold look of your lover melts into a soft and warm one when his eyes turn to you. All while 'adjusting' his loose tie, aka pulling it lower and revealing a bit more of his scarred skin that you adore kissing it.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? Sorry, did that scare you?"

His duality makes you crazy horny-- t-that is, deeply in love with him!

"No! No, no, I wasn't scared! I was just, um... feeling a little faint due to the heat, yes!"

You wave a hand in front of you make it more believable... which don't seem to be working very we'll, seeing the frown on Wriothesley's face. So you start your plan B: run away.

"Ah, I-I better go deliever this documents to Monsieur Neuvillette then. Seeyouathomeloveyoubye!"

Wriothesley watches as you scurry off to the elevator, clutching the files in your arms like a lifeline. He shakes his head, a hand covering the grin.

"Oh darling, you're too easy to read."

----------

"Y-You mean-- ahh, that you k-knew all along?!"

"How could I not, when your eyes were almost begging me to fuck you? You should reward me for my self control, sweetheart."

Any retort you had dissolve into a shaky moan when Wriothesley curls his two fingers inside your core, hitting that deep spot that turns your brain into mush.

You want grasp the sheets, you want to scratch his back, you want to cover your face, ANYTHING. But you can't, not with your hands locked with his handcuffs to the bedpost. You hate it and you love it.

"Wrioooo..."

"Now, now princess, don't tug the handcuffs so hard, it'll hurt you and we can't have that." His free hand trails up your arms, lightly dragging his nails to make you shiver at the ticklish feeling, until he holds your wrists in place. "Be a good girl and focus on me, yeah?"

Jokes on him, that's what you've been doing the whole day. Thinking about your dear boyfriend, his sweet personality, his cute adoration for tea, his godly body, his great strength and how you wished for nothing more than to be bent over his desk and--

"C-Close, close... Gonna-!" Your babbles are interrupted by a gasp, Wriothesley's fingers speeding up and his palm brushing against your clit over and over that it takes just a few seconds for you to see white, body taut, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure washes over you.

The Duke slows down his movement until his hand stops completely, kissing your temple and cooing at you when you whine at his fingers leaving you empty.

You sigh when his mouth meets yours in a languid kiss, helping your heartbeat return to normal... until it races again when you realize his lips going down, down and down your body...

"W-Wrio... what are you-- Ahh!" You squeal at the sudden cold sensation in your sensitive pussy, attempting to wiggle your hips away. Your very mean lover just chuckles, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs and drags you back to his face, the asshole shooting you a smirk after he uses cold tongue to lick your folds again.

"Surely you didn't think I'd stop at one round, after you used your bedroom eyes at me the whole day, right? So..."

"Don't run away now, sweetheart."

"W-What did you say?!"

"...I said, don't let any of it, the treasure, roll away now."

Your lover looks at you with a quizzical look, not comprehending your unusual reaction to his words. You, on the other hand, are silent praying to all the Seven archons for your face to not be as red as you think it is.

In any case, you decide to turn your back to Alhaitham to get the rest of the treasure inside the chest, while he keeps on look out for any other hilichurl or abyss monsters lurking around.

You see, it's not common for you two to go adventure together around Sumeru, much less to see the scribe in action with your own eyes. So, you can't be blamed when you've been too distracted by the way his toned arms flex as he swings his sword(s), his cape gracefully flowing at each movement, the focused expression as the Chisel-Light Mirrors cut down the enemies...

Anyway, you were far too busy gawking over your boyfriend and how unfairly hot he is to actually notice the chest spawning right in front of you. And those words that he had said? It's no surprise your mind went to the gutter.

You just hope you weren't acting so obviously down bad for him as you fear...

----------

"So good... Always so good to me. Fuck, I'm getting close...!"

You really don't know how you got here. The memories from returning to Sumeru City from adventuring in the wilderness to being on your knees, sucking on Alhaitham's cock while in his office are a blur.

But, honestly? You can't bring yourself to care about these minor details.

You drag your head back slowly, torturously forcing the man above you to feel every inch of your mouth until only the tip, angry red and drooling pre cum, remains inside.

The harsh suck you give at the sensitive area earns you a groan, a growl almost, that leaves you rubbing your thighs together. Looking up at your beloved, you watch his chest rise and fall rapidly, a pretty flush on his cheeks and eyes sending you a glare.

A side of you wants to be mean, to give him a taste of paradise before taking it away, just like he so adores to do with you. You want him to be frustrated, to beg you for release, a taste of his own medicine...

But you can't. You shouldn't.

Regardless of the locked door, anyone might come knocking, requiring the presence of the scribe for some unimportant business and, archons forbid, hear what is happening inside the office.

You try not to acknowledge the dampness of your panties from this thought.

And then you feel it, three taps of his fingers on the back of your head, the sign you two came up with to tell the other when you're about to cum.

You release his shaft with a "pop" and Alhaitham is ready to question your cruel actions, but whatever words he had wanted to say get thrown out of the window when you swallow him again without warning, taking as much of his cock as you can.

With one, two shallow thrusts of his hips, he paints your throat white with his release, head thrown back, eyes tightly shut and a moan that most certainly would be heard by everyone in the Akademiya halls had the scribe not covered his mouth.

You try, you swear to Celestia that you try your hardest to swallow every single drop of cum, but there's too much and you can control your breathing only for so long. With much dismay, your mouth lets go of the slowly softening member, covered with a mix of his seeds and your saliva.

Chuckling at your dejected look, Alhaitham raises your chin to make you look at him, thumb gathering the very same mix that has escaped from your mouth to smear it over your lips, his next words making you shiver in arousal but also embarrasment of the knowledge that he had known all along what had gone through your mind during your adventure earlier.

"Don't let any of it roll away now, my love."

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

red wriothesley and alhaitham banners (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

#blue.writes: genshin impact #blue.writes: smut #blue.writes: wriothesley #blue.writes: alhaitham #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #not suitable for minors #minors dni #alhaitham smut

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watashijeon · 9 months

Text

Mon Ange. | KTH

♫ listen while reading 📖— Is there someone else ~ The Weeknd

before you read: Keep in mind that this is all purely fiction. If any of the below warnings trigger you then do not read, blocking is welcomed if you are uncomfortable btw.. idc! (*- 3•*)~

pairing: sub!reader × lawyer dom!taehyung

part 1 here

wc. 7.6k | smut & angst + fluff (reader is 22 & tae is 32)

Warnings: (+18) — taehyung smokes, long raw rough sex, creampie, infidelity & cheating (not between yn & tae), arranged marriage, inaccurate lawyer talk blah blah, intense orgasm, missionary, drunk tae to tipsy tae, spanking & face slapping, backhanded praise, lotsa dirty talk, aftercare, overthinking and anxiety esque moments, tension all around.. enjoy

— I made you mine, or so it seemed. I might as well be two feet tall. You never will love me at all. —

You’re calling out for his name, nothing can kill this moment. He feels sweetness and ease.. never has he let himself slip. But tonight is his birthday or so it was hours before.

Nonetheless, nothing could kill the stillness.

"Hm?" he’s mumbling with his speech, nose buried into pretty flushed skin. He feels confused, feeling you still when your words came out so blurred in his mind.

“I have to tell you something.”

Completely lost now where this was going, he stills his touch. Awkward and stiff, you make eye contact for what you are about to say.

He doesn’t understand the build up, he just wish you would say what it was. Maybe you had to take some time away from him due to your work.. he understood, he didn’t mind that.

"I think we should end our arrangement."

Oh. It’s so different from what he had just suspected, why does his heart feel like it just plummeted to another oblivion of nothing?

Taehyung doesn’t care, he’s undisciplined and chaotic with his very few next actions.

You need to leave. Freezing up, ready for his immediate impulse, because you know him like the back of your hand. The man picks you right off from his lap, rather rough and he would have time to regret on the meanness of it later.

He’s quick to pointing his hand open palm stiff and stern to the now sad wrinkled dress on the floor that laid lonely.

“Well, go on then.”

Your eyes looked at him pained, you had not a clue what his reaction really meant but you moved. Wiggling on your dress, back faced to him before looking once more to see his distracted stare. He is so out of it now, he doesn’t know.

“You understand.. right, Tae?” oh why must you speak so sweet to him using his shorten nickname in that especially nauseating sweet voice, even the way you are ending this is a million times nicer than he has ever ended a fling with a person.

“I do, bye.”

He’s being so mean, harsh and rude.

Taehyung hopes you won’t dwell on it or let it hurt your heart like it will to his very own.

But somehow he wants it to pain you, make you feel the same burn and ripping he feels in his chest right now. What did he do wrong?

“Goodbye Taehyung.” and that was it, the door clicked and so did his very front one. Left with the forbidden but likely delicious and perfect red velvet cake you’ve made, and a gift that sat perfectly next to it wrapped in his favorite color for wrapping paper on his kitchen island.

And indeed you had to make his favorite cake flavor, meaning you remembered the stupid detail when he told you on a night together.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

He remembers so clearly on the morning you stayed after for the first time coming over for six months. The two of you had lazed in his bed between tangled limbs and sheets “I will, I will protect you.” your lips dropped into a pout tracing your nimble finger over the man’s jaw.

How could you even say that when you leave him not much later, he doesn’t get it. This isn’t like you at all. Maybe being in pained denial he couldn’t accept the sore fact that someone made the first move on with abandonment.

You weren’t supposed to lie, it’s uncalled for and unacceptable. But even deep down the man knew he was being ignorant, he’s lied to many people to avoid hurt and it was his own field of career to lie if necessary.. that’s all you were trying to do.

The man can’t dare to muster up to think you have a bad bone in your little body that was filled of nothing less of kindness. But right now he won’t be rational with his assumptions.

He’s angry and selfish with dire need for your presence now all over again, no matter the situation that this is. But whatever really, big deal that you are gone. He will find someone else to fuck his life into, you are no different from any other living human with a hole.

…

He pauses.

Never mind that, fuck that. He deserves a good and perfect reason for why you did this.. leaving him in the dark, quite literally. Taehyung can't stand not talking to you even if he never took time to speak so much into your conversations. He still appreciated all of your efforts and presence you put into whatever what you had was, now it’s all fucking gone.

He used to act upon impulse when he would have multiple play things through out the month. But you, you make him stop to think. It makes him wrinkle his nose because he does not have a clue why you turn him to be this way. It’s simply you being you, no spell.. no great manipulation in your words. Just you.

In the beginning of this arrangement he was reluctant given the age gap, especially with the relation that you were a long time family client of his.

Once he became enthralled with someone.. he could say it took a lot to kill it.

You weren’t the only one that had the privilege, he’s turned thirty two this year and definitely doesn’t have enough fingers to count on with how many girls he has used up and nicely dumped off to the side — kindly.

Sparing the honest reason that he needs to focus on his career before weeks later he would latch claws into his new toy, it’s only painstakingly different now.

Much different because he had never held onto a “toy” for over a few months at a time, the man liked variety and trying new things. With you in the picture, it was sickening at the fact that he grew real attachment to every little thing about you. It made him want you more. While he is nothing great of the sort for you, he was only a warm body to give you what was desired. You gave him your body and time, in return he would give you lust driven pleasure.

He was the one who established what you two were from the great beginning, he was not allowed to feel betrayed and cheated. Someone could hate him and he would cackle at that, a girl could scream at the stoic man and he’d chuckle again. Once you lose his interest there is no winning him back, it's as if getting stuck in a never ending pit of quick sand that could swallow you in pitiful eyes. He thinks it’s valid to feel this way, he’s coming to terms with the whole ordeal of what all this was.

Being your damn family lawyer and you had met him when you were the young age of nineteen, a mere baby. It definitely took some time for him to be ok with the fact that he would end up fucking you almost weekly with your given age — he’s not a pervert.. right? But you were a mature girl as you grew up, he liked you for this reason.. different and good for whatever he wanted and still you set healthy boundaries not letting him walk over your toes.

Time will pass nicely, right? He will be fine and move on — find someone even better. A little reflecting won’t hurt his soul.

It has been a little over two months since the grouch for a man has seen you, turning slowly into the twentieth century version for Scrooge.

Promising himself each day he would not give in and call you, you will be the one to run back.

He’s been saying that to himself since the day you up and left.. now his very once high and wild ego was now dwindling day by day and he is pissed beyond belief, because wow, wowww. You really did leave him as if he planned to do the exact for you in the beginning of meeting with you, that was before he caught a liking and it was only for your body, of course.

Yes.. that’s what is was. It was only really your gorgeous body that gave him pleasure to see you again and again, never mind the fact of your amazing personality or one of a kind glowing aura that brought a sweet genuine smile on his usual crest fallen features.

Broken from his reverie he’s receiving a call, he’s been sat still buried in his office since six am. It’s how he gets through his days to not think about you or testing the waters of calling.

The phone clicks and clatters, he needs to get himself a new desk phone or better yet just buy another smartphone. Huffing and puffing, he inhales and exhales seeing the caller id.

“Hello, it’s been awhile sir.”

It’s your father, he has to fake a front for the sake of niceties and also being civil because your very own damn dad has been using the Kim’s for any law or business relations since Taehyung was probably born, he’ll complain and grumble later on to a nice white wall of his.

“Oh yes! Things have been crazed.”

Taehyung really wonders about that, a hotel tycoon can only get so wild and crazed.. right?

“Hmm, I understand. What can I help you with.”

“Ah, Mr Kim. let’s get down to it—“ the grinch for a man licks and licks his lips again out of great big habit, becoming nervous of the lingering for just how long it takes this man to get to a point. Many clicks and clattering over the other line.. the older would continue.

“So, I need to talk through some paperwork with you regarding about merging contracts.”

“Go on, sir.” he can’t be this vague.. come on. Shouldn’t he know better than to speak so small about important shit, god help his ticking time bomb for patience being not a virtue.

Ping

If silence could kill it would be deathly here and now, he receives the paper work faxed over. A skim and scan later — Taehyung feels his heart plummet to places beyond his comprehension.

It’s just so now, he realizes your father has been blabbering about whatever this whole time.

“What is this all for?”

His eyes ogle and ogle for more than a few times he could count, reading the bold letters of “Marital License and Contract Briefing.”

“Well if it wasn’t obvious, our dear y/n is going to get married next month. We have set her up with the perfect man who is a well respected hotelier heir, a perfect match for our family.”

Of course.. of course your father would set you up with a person that is in the same position of business as him, you probably had no word or real say in this. God, why does he feel wrath and anger. He wants to rip his hair out straight.

He should be happy for you, your new husband to be probably feels like home in his arms.

So much that he bets he mends you with warm healing long hugs, and utterly disgusting kind smiles that remind you of honey mixed into sweet vanilla, your very two favorite things.

He continued to offer your father a tight-lipped smile as if he could see him through the phone, briefly looking up from the contracts on his computer screen — faxed papers sitting nice and crisped on his desk. He thinks it’s best he ends this call now before he yells off.

“Ok sir, I’ll look over them and we will discuss the terms and things that will be strewn.”

“Oh that is great to hear! I invite you over tomorrow for tea, we will discuss all of the paperwork then. Yes?”

He won’t allow himself to think about that, he will agree just to get off this damn phone call.

“Yes sir, I’ll see you then, good night.”

Click.

He’s here, he can’t believe he actually came.

Sat in the way too high ceilings for a living area, he will blame it on why he feels this nauseated. God, he knows you live here obviously. It’s been your parents odd and traditional rule until you were ready to move out when they thought it was best, you always said that was why you still stayed with them. What he didn’t know was the bizarre underlying conditions were marriage.

“Ah Kim, here we are.” The meeting begins and ends with the blink of an eye.

It went awful in Taehyung’s eyes, he really didn’t want to hear about you getting married off for a great three hours. It left the man wanting to seethe and bite his mouth off until the older would finally shut up to take a puff or sip of liquor.

Then on he tried to laugh with your father.. even when it felt as if pearly teeth might crack with only how hard his jaw flexed shut.

Your father welcomes the man to stay over for only awhile longer, he won’t accept it, kindly.

He has to get going.. because someone (Taehyung) couldn’t handle on what all just happened. While the hag of your father thought it was a good idea to step out and take a call.

15 minutes before

It’s been minutes now and your father isn’t back, Taehyung decides to dwell around with his eyes to gawk at the various family portraits hung from generations before and other astray framed photographs of little you and family.

He has the urge to trace his finger along the frames but he won’t, definitely not now.

“Tae..?”

Like clockwork, Taehyung’s head cocks in nanoseconds to the spiraled staircase you stood by, gripping on the bar to keep stance.

You look gorgeous right now, still the same as before. He can’t help but let his eyes trail over your legs, he’s no better than any other man. He decides he can’t stare for much longer though, clearing his throat to cock his head off to the side in mimicking a fake neck crack.

“Hello.” he decides on, licking lips for the trillionth time and resting hands into pockets.

Your stare doesn’t stutter elsewhere, you copy him yourself — licking lips except only slower and more tantalizing. Or that’s how he sees it. He hated confrontation, one of his favorite things about you though.. is you’d ask too many questions every time you were around. He’d act like he hated it, but bathed in the attention and attentive wide eyes you once had all for him.

It’s only none of the many questions you’d ask would ever provoke the man to deflect, bother him up the wall and make him drop you soon later in his own sheer annoyance like usual. It’s happened to others, he’s an asshole but he could care less because at least he is honest.

Seeing you now gives him bitter sweetness for deja vu, the memory to when he saw you for the first time when you were eighteen — never having an ounce of interest in you then. You were a pesky teenager though, ogling the man like sweet candy for your taking. Nothing unusual he hadn’t encountered before.. only ever moving forward to do his job and ignore it.

That helped some.

Both of you finally interacted properly then when you were twenty, clear that you had matured fast and you were well with holding good conversation. While.. your dear father ran around with his head cut off like a chicken and leaving a bored lawyer Kim to wait for set business meetings to be done, you were lovely company at least.

Then somehow.. something happened, the day where he took your virginity in your childhood bathroom — it was your 21st birthday after all.

It was almost too universal how the world wanted you two to be alone at this awful time. But the moment happened so fast maybe too fast if he wants to dwell on it now, only once comforting the weeping girl that trembled in his arms to have you seconds under his grasp.

You had to, just had to look down at him with those puppy dog eyes choking a mere sob of “Am I not important.. is that what it is Tae?”

God he hated how you said his name, so sweet and quiet. Full of vulnerability and sadness.

He couldn’t allow a pretty girl like you, sobbing over something so minuscule on her birthday, he had a great plan of course. Comfort? No.

Fuck the sadness out of you, it will do you well.

It’s shameful at how he’s too old for your young sweet heart that still had much to see and live.. he’s nothing but rotten fruit at best.

But why did he want to stay selfishly so.

Your eyes did it in for him, they always did..

Corny and sappy he thinks.

He tries to move on with the passing thoughts of why do you need to be claimed now when he was starting to think he could have tried. He hopes you had at least one passing thought yourself of the what ifs and hows.

Present

All but nothing of silence settles between the two of you, no words are exchanged past that.

Eventually steps dissipate further from him to hear, you leave after the stare off you both shared — thankfully your father interrupts.

It’s been a few hours since you last saw him, you knew way before he was going to dial your phone. Doing exactly this, after your third attempt to ignore the countless calls you press accept to hear the expectant drawl of your name in stupor.

You’re sure he’s grinning dumb and widely boxy, almost as if youth takes over for these very small tipsy minutes. His vulnerability is clearly yours now, it’s so viable at how bad he is vying for attention.

You prepare yourself, clearing your throat and speaking as clear and stern as one could be.

“Hello?”

“Hmmmhmm, hello.”

There’s a pause, awkward, but he’s drunk so he likely doesn’t recognize the rising tension.

“Yes, Taehyung?”

There’s a giggle..? Oh my god he just giddily giggled at your voice. No, no your heart isn’t doing backflips — you’re just concerned.

“At your door, open sesame.” you can hear him try to knock like a madman — even if there’s visibly a buzzer that’s meant to be there so insiders could hear from the size of your parent’s insanely huge home.

Drunk Taehyung doesn’t know that though.

Fuck well, ok you guess. Thank god your father isn’t home for the night — you begin to panic but you can dissolve situations fine, it’s your strong suit or one of the many of them at least.

You practically lunge from your bed to tumble over down the stairs, trying to keep him half entertained while you tunnel yourself to the door before the maids could see the odd sight.

Being quiet as you can be with unlocking the door, Taehyung makes it no issues to pull a dramatic scene. Already seconds in through the door staring you down, like any other would be scared of the predatory stare.

But this is Taehyung, he would never hurt you.

All you can do, Slowly watching him advance at you skittering back until you’re pressed to the wall. He doesn’t touch you, leaned against the victorian wall with each hand on either side trapping you between him.

He won’t stop there yet, drawling your name out in a drunken purr “Aw-huh. Angel, you got yourself stuck..what are we going to do now?" like no moral was ever created — toes curled into wooden floors from the deep baritone voice awakening all of your weaken senses.

You try, trying so damn hard and ignore it.

Staring hard into empty eyes, his bags are awfully visible and you wonder if he’s even slept lately.

You’re so tiny and frazzled by his abrupt actions, feeling him slide a warm hand up to your stomach to trail barely under your tits. The same said empty eyes sharpen at your slip of a pathetic whine, closing you into the wall a tad too close for comfort to make you both bump into each other’s chest.

“Wanna fuck this pretty cunt again.”

His words boom into you everywhere, from head to toe and places you wouldn’t like to acknowledge that throbbed with need. Doomed, definitely, that’s what you are.

You can only exhale feeling a warm shiver travel down your spine from the daring slip of drunken tongue. Able to pull enough strength to squeak a soft response “L-let’s lay down.”

It was your best bet to avoid from ruining your impending future, you won’t allow no more mishaps to happen. It’s all for your father.

He settled off with a hum, you were surprised he’d backed off. Maybe the man recognizing the nervousness in your tone, “Lead the way.”

It’s quiet now, too tense for your liking but you can’t do anything you think to help the off situation. Laid in your bed next to each other with a foot of space between your bodies.

It’s uncanny how alike this situation reminds you of some movie you watched with the man.

You feel like you’re steps away from saying the infamous line of “Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off.”

You won’t have a second to think longer when the big bear decides to speak up into the unknown of silence that had lasted for a long hour, “I get it.. yeah, you don't love me, big fucking deal.”

Silence, absolutely nothing back.

“I’ll never tell you how I really feel, angel.”

Your breath was being held for seconds until he decides to follow with cockiness, there it is.

Always showing a slip of vulnerability followed with the man being plain rude. It’s the way your eyes roll that cause a gasp to stutter from him, almost like he didn’t expect your attitude nor harsh yet honest reaction.

He won’t comment on it properly, never does.

“Hold me.” he mumbles while simultaneously grumbling, trying his definition in hard to get you closer than whatever.. this is. Your brow ticks at him head shifting to properly face his pouted features from his side profile, feeling up for the need to deny him only a bit.

“What? Stop mumbling.”

He won’t take a pause this time, thankfully.

“Hold me goddammit.” he huffs and puffs out even louder — yet incoherently all in the same breath. Taehyung coughs, trying to clear his throat and mocks you with a roll in his own eyes of annoyance, like you did something.

That time you did “hear” him and you did what was asked by the big grizzly bear, only you turned to him closer now — seeing that wry smile on his cruel but godforsaken pretty face.

The spiral begins, you and him are going to give into this hell of fire.. only letting it grow uncontrollable by the end of night.

Are you going to do well without me?

Are we ever going to be okay?

Will we ever be fine?

You were too good to be forgotten in his heart.

It was too quiet in this room, silent and tense.

Taehyung felt nothing but regret, fucking stupid as he closed his eyes and mumbled these pitiful words.

Stupid, as he continued to speak gibberish into the room. I feel stupid. I am stupid.

You finally give up on the swallowing of the never ending silence and endless mumbling under his breath, tongue dry trying to clear your throat so to maybe finally speak — maybe even summon him back, and he does. It works because he lets his eyes finally open back.

You tug him into your chest wasting no more time when there’s not much, arms wrapped tight around his stiff figure that takes only just a minute to loosen once he realized you weren’t going to push him back anymore.

It’s not much different though, his nails still pierced into his forearm with thin lips folded into teeth to feel anything but what this is right now. You were staring at him, Taehyung, your father’s lawyer, your first crush and realization that you really only like and desire older men.

Now wishing you’d rather have gone to therapy instead of pursue that day in the bathroom.

You don’t mean that actually, you just hate yourself at this very moment and so does he.

But this wasn't the Taehyung you knew, wasn't the same man with styled hair and sultry eyes.. looking now as real life death in your arms.

You weren’t trying to be harsh nor hateful, you were worrying your heart out and confirming all the racing thoughts you have figured to be maybe going on. Only for them to come to life. He looks unreal tonight, almost unnatural from his usual sun kissed skin. No more sharpness to his look, the man looks fucking sick.

You want to coddle him to death, your own heart feels like it’s going to lurch right out from it’s chest by any second now if he keeps looking at you with those sad puppy dog eyes. This was not the look you yearned to see, you hated it all so much.

“Well.” clearing his throat, trying to prove something into air. Maybe it’s a lawyer instinct.

You repeat back to him without a beat to really think, “Well..” you use the same tone of voice but maybe yours wavered more in raw pain. The man wordlessly continued to stare like always, holding your hand tight in his grip in bringing it up to his lips. You should reject his warm touch, leave even, run far.

But why are you still laying here.. melting away.

He was being this gentle and just careful, you would giggle if the situation weren’t tense now.

Long fingers playing with lips, digits ghosting over your cheek with a soft caress. You can’t help but shut your own tired eyes, melting more and more and it was just like that.

His control is gone, so fast and fluidly when your lashes fluttered to cold skin. Whispering his name too sweet and soft almost in prayer.

"We can’t.. it would be wrong.” it’s insane how you knew his intentions from the speed his hands traveled to the material of your night dress.

"So fucking wrong," he becomes almost too ready with heavy pants of hot breath kissing your jaw and neck.

Eager calloused thumbs rubbing circles into your hips that were on the brink of trembling.

You whine at the tone he uses, becoming easy to his invasion "Don't.. don't speak like that." Eyes heavy lidded, lips licking with each breath that exhaled from your stuttering chest.

He wants you dead it seems, feeling up your body more and more by every passing second before easy fingers would get to your chest.

"I'm wrong like that.. you like it," the man preaches with determined digits this time skimming back down onto your hips to hear his favorite strangled whines "you want it.”

"Ah.. T-tae” it’s pathetic.. sounding asthmatic in your own ears from mere fingers grazing you rough.

"Who's married? Certainly not you, yet."

You pause to mull it over, eyes falling into his.

He truly doesn’t care now, past gone. Nothing can stop this — you need him.. your sweet eyes tell almost all too fucking well for him to know.

He's moving on autopilot when he pulls you to him with no awareness of anything around him, the man frenzied with his only living goal to feel you wrapped around him. Whether it be with loose limbs or his all well endowed cock buried deep between warm tightness, he needed to feel you again.

Your gasps fall out too soft to be surprised at the sudden roughness, murmuring whining moans that fell into a mantra of "We can't..” tiny cries that quickly later start falling into hungry kisses while neither of you had an ounce of intention to stop, no matter the end of it.

Lips already collided against each other in a perfect mess of motion, tongues lolled out of your mouthes as the pleasure binds you both.

It’s disgusting now, strings of drool dribbling to your chest from every pause he took to pull and nip. The man grabs your scalp, yanking you head back against his shoulder. Jaw slack open to give him the prettiest mouth for him to gladly spit right down onto your tongue, so pathetic all for his demise.

Doing all the nothing but moaning and swallowing, open mouth with all your might.

Leaving a desperate plea in sparkly eyes while you wait impatient for his next move, you missed him. Eyes yearning and lips quivering, legs shaking so early on and yet.. your spine just might go limp quite soon.

You whine almost instantaneously and nothing less of desperate while the devious man began to nibble harshly down on your neck with small bites of love.

Moving on nothing but anger and bubbled feelings at surface, shoes being removed, with the stubborn zipper of your night dress slipping down from your shoulders as hungry lips explored every inch of skin that became exposed.

So quick, licking a wet stripe down your chest to stomach to feeling you shake with desire and need, tasting the want for you on his tongue.

“Hmm, your poor husband to be.”

He hated that, hated the fact that you were about to belong to someone. He knew he wanted and needed you to feel the burn that he had been feeling for months since then.

"I'm not t-telling," you can barely form a sentence let alone a proper sound that didn’t make you sound out to be like a deprived slut.

The man can’t do much other than scoff, you having the strength to use that reassuring tone— with such a soft tone and bat pretty doll eyes in lost of such easy pleasure given.

Looking this fucking gorgeous and it’s going to be all for someone else, not him ever “I know angel, not with the way i’m about to fuck you.”

Like clockwork you moan like a bitch at that, of course. Feeling him sink razor sharp canines down into the squishy flesh of your stomach.

Uncaring completely for the fresh marks, he would hope in your future meeting with that man.. you wouldn’t become so easy to show yourself off for him. Sliding his fingers from your stomach down over to your cunt, slipping long digits between sopping wetness — sticky as if you already had touched yourself earlier.

He’s growing impatient, on the aspect of stretching you out when he so gladly craves to stuff you four fingers full. But he’s a gentleman at his very best, always calling out for him in non-stop “T-tae..” or better yet “Touch me, I’m sorry, I’ll be good.” without any doubt he would answer “Anything for the angel.”

Your thighs already shake from the burn of /slowly/ fucking yourself on long fingers. Tears streaming, overwhelmed by the burning stretch that comes with each motion, soon quiet sniffles and soft gasps turn into sobbing when the man decides to snake his hand and start to tease and slowly circle your clit.

“So perfect, all for me, hm.”

You nod eager to please, blushing all the way down to your toes. Biting your lip, thoughts not holding very well against the feeling of the eager man’s middle finger now slipping out from you to part your cunt and stroke along the sore slit.

“Patient tonight? You must want it bad.” he sighs almost sounding bored, standing tall over you to undo the belt that once looped through his slacks. Long gone leather abandoned to the floor along with his slacks pooled at his ankles, ready, finally.

“You gotta be nice and quiet for me. Yeah? Can you do that for me?”

You’re way past desperate tonight, choking out a broken “Y-yes, fuck! Please.” wild hips winding up for more of the now lost touch.

The older plays coy, smirking lopsided and lazy, kneeling on the bed to line himself up to the pretty plump cunt. Long digits wrapped around his cock, "Open up for me baby."

She obeys immediately, legs opening wider to shakily wrap themselves around Taehyung’s waist. His hips up to slip his cock into the crease of your folds. Grinding there half tipsy now, leaky tip nudging at your clit.

Not wasting another second, the first push of stretch has you whining his name. Long nails piercing into taut honey skin, cock fucking in ruthless at the long thrusts that heat your core up, forming sweat down his neck and shoulders.

“Goood fucking girl.” He drawls with a husky moan, you want to die at how fucking hot he sounds.

He doesn’t care, going faster to no point of being coherent in your mind. Punishing strokes fucking the life out of you, snapping his cock right into your tight cunt. One hand bruised into your hip while the other slipped easily around your neck just enough to have you alert “Look me in the eyes when I’m fucking you.”

Lashes fluttering half open, looking with a fuzzy minded daze. Knowing you look like a slut, feeling drool drip everywhere along with the slickness between your legs. Coming to the reality you would let him do anything and you’d welcome it.

"Just like that baby, shit, taking my cock so fucking good," he grunts almost feral with every punishing stroke "Y-yes, " tiny voice choking out, slamming into you with hips winding harder if that was even humanely possible "Love it so much, I-love your cock.”

“Who’s a whore, uh? Who’s desperate for cock.”

“Tell me.” he growls slowing the roll of his hips into you to pull a desperate cockslut spill a mess of “Me, me, me.” you’re hyperventilating almost with how good he feels “M-me, I’m sorry!” god, the situation is a mess but he wouldn’t be lying if he wasn’t thinking about filling his load in you and pray to the man above that your birth control didn’t work.

feeling walls grow tighter and tighter, knowing the telltale signs you were about to cum.

“Perfect fucking girl, sucking me so tight.”

“S-stop..” you whine in embarrassment with a broken sob when you feel the devil himself sink deeper, balls deep inside you now.

Back and forth, back and forth.

An addictive dance, once friendly boundaries expanding to something that was speaking what will stay unspoken. Taehyung’s cock sliding so good inside your cunt you were dying with bliss for the night.

He can see you struggle to try and put a hand over your mouth, but the man won’t allow that. Snatching your hand in his grasp “Let her hear," he growls, referring to the maids and starts to fuck the life out of your cunt with no care for how loud you moan or scream.

"Y-your slut," you stutter, feeling him start to raise his hips to meet your weak attempt of grinding back, thrusting upward and matching your sloppy speed. "wanna b-be your slut."

His ego growing higher than before and dick hard as ever, Taehyung taunts, already knowing the answer by your dazed features.

“Oh yeah?” he pants grunting with every roll of his hips, and you can do nothing but give him what he wants. On the brink of tears you whine out broken moans, “So fucking bad, please Tae.”

“Come on." the taller’s strokes turning slow and hard, each one pulling a moan from sweet agape lips. "Cum on my cock.” you’re past coherent, cock drunk with drool slipping down your chin.

The ecstasy bursting through your body at an unimaginable rate,legs feel almost numb, smaller fingers gripping your sheets so hard. Taehyung already knew you would rip them off the corners of your bed, seeing how your own skin burned. Orgasm still sending ripples throughout your tiny body. Shaking as you came down from the high, cock buried deep, cum spilling inside as he keeps your body pressed together, skin to skin. His nose buried in the crook of longer sweaty strands of hair.

You begin to feel the feather kisses he mouthed over the expanse of your neck, his body quivering with the last of his cum filling you up.

“Fuck, yeah, ok.” is all he can do to respond, you can only hum in response as you’re being fucked so mind-numbingly good. Body moving along the bed as you’re fucked open for the year.

Your blissed-out state has the man feeling on top of the world, no case he’s won ever given him this much ecstasy for this feeling of high.

Knowing that the same woman he's been getting off to for months, that was only planned to be handed over to someone else is finally getting fucked. His pretty not so sweet angel drooling all for him, ruined for good by just his cock.

The floaty feeling back to how it was, only stronger than ever, the way Taehyung feels so right up against you.

He comes from his feverish moment of just drilling into you, no awareness for how overwhelming it may be. A smaller hand trying to grab his hand to make him stop, he sees nothing less of rage.

"Move your fucking hand.” he snaps with a hiss, snatching your hand in an iron like grasp.

“only I can touch you like this.” he states, hard and stern as if it’s a plead mixed into question. “Yeah?” of course he has to slap you for you to answer, braindead and cock hungry.

“Yes, all for you!” you squeal, body curling into yourself — he begins to dwell how there is not a real thought behind your eyes but his fingers and cock bearing your only passable thoughts.

He wants to laugh, your poor husband is about to be inadvertently about to be cucked.

You moan at how rough he’s being, every yank, spanking and slap getting you more than riled up. Rambling the typical ‘I love you, I love your cock.’

He’s aggravated, not sure why, deep down knowing. "Look at me and tell me what you want.” no way to receive an answer unless he squeezed a generous hand around your throat.

“Y-you, you, fuck!”

It’s not enough, he wants to laugh at his greediness that will not sate him ever.

Again and again, back and forth. Another slap landed across each apple red cheek, going harder each lashing.

“Again.”

You repeat yourself again, hm, still not enough.

He’s done with himself, frustrated and choosing to vomit his words.

“You’re mine, get that through your fucking head.” his thrusts were past hard and fast, bruising now. He grunted and groaned while you continued to moan and whimper beneath him, going so rough he decided to push your skull deep into the bed. Warm palm covering your face whole, feeling you squeeze involuntarily at being used like an object.

“Atta girl.” He didn't stop, not once. You weren’t asking to anyways just screaming his name for more — no mind here with nodding away into a mess full of bedsheets, trying to wind wobbly hips back on his cock to bounce lewdly.

Taehyung does nothing less but snap sharply against your ass, “So fucking tight, mine."

"C-cum in me tae," you moan, seeing white, reaching down blindly to rub your clit in frantic circles, begging at the idea of the older filling you with his cum. "Fill me up, give-give me a baby."

"Fuuuck," Taehyung growls and groans almost feral "Don't fucking say that shit."

"W-why not?" bratty whines beg “F-fill me up? Don't say that?"

Taehyung grunts, pulling you on him, chest to chest, you clamor to wrap shaky arms around his neck. Fuck, he’s holding you upright, bouncing you straight onto his cock. Falling forward with a squeal, crying in pleasure as the tip of his cock hits your cervix with how deep he is inside.

"Want my cum so fucking bad?" he hums, trying his best to sound unbothered. "I'll fucking give it to you then."

Your legs clamp around his waist as he pounds into you, cock hitting every point inside your body and you’re so close you think you’ll die. You feel Taehyung tense, and then a sudden gush of warmth fill you.

"Fuck me, angel. You feel so good." he gasps through l shut teeth spanking you with every thrust he gave.

At the feeling of him actually listening to what you always wanted, your orgasm blinds you in intensity, the tight coil in your stomach finally snaps. Body seizing, moans loud against his lips, whining a final tired cry to slow down.

The baby clip once stuck to hair now hung loose, the feeling of warm hands kneading hips before he would give harsh slaps to your ass.

"What do you think he would say," he spits out the name with nothing but disgust. “if he saw you like this?" He shifts his hips, "You think he'd ruin your orgasm?" tone patronizingly sympathetic. “Or.. let you cum so prettily, like you always do.”

He tsks at watching how disoriented daze eyes go through the five stages of grief. Writhing in pleasure as eyes fall closed, breath hitched when he finally lays you back down on the bed. Thighs sticky and all, he sighs at the sight.

“Want to show this cunt off to the world."

“Y-you can’t..” you pout, his eyes watching you fall apart all over again at just words being spoken to you.

“Good thing for secrets.” he smirks his mouth almost falling into a snarl, it wasn’t even spoken this would continue. One last time you agreed.. but you want him more than ever even if your situation is doomed.

“Bath?” he mutters with a whisper of soft kisses to your temple, you nod.

He grabs for his cigarettes, you hand him his lighter and wait until the deed was done so you could put them back off to the side again.

It’s been long since you both have took a bath together. He stretches his arms after he successfully calmed his nerves, you light the stick for him, eyes on him as he throws his head back to inhale. Blowing smoke out, body lazing while it filled with nicotine.

You like calm men, men who dont shout or break things when they’re upset. Men who talked to you in a gentle, low voice telling you what made them mad or what you did wrong.

That’s what Taehyung is to you, that’s what made you fall.. hard. You think it over all again in your current predicament, comfortable as ever.

Veiny caramel hands pulling your hips up in the bath for you to be settled nicely. A warm hand fondles your ass lovingly with his other taking puffs of smoke to inhale and exhale lazily, “My pretty girl.” he smiles lopsided before tugging your wobbly hips back down in relief, enjoying the way you whimpered and whined in your own way of retaliation.

Taking mercy before planting a wet kiss on your shoulder to whisper “I love you, Angel.”

Both of you decide on staying silent. Your back rests against his chest, deciding mutually to speak once the cigarette burnt into ashes.

“Does he make you feel safe, like I do?”

You don’t answer.

“I want you, you’re mine no matter what.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

You are married now.. being due with a fast wedding to no love involved, business as the main goal.

The meets with Taehyung continue and you two make time to fuck when you can — poor Namjoon.

It hurts he thinks.. hurts so bad. Because he’ll have to look at you every month when you come over to be fucked into whatever.

While he is out handling business, leaving him in the spot to fuck you hard and good like he can’t, at least he tried to convince himself of that for his own comfort.

You keep up with the old routine of pillow talk, just to feel the same mundanity this once all was. You think, he doesn’t care what you speak of after he only just poured his dull sad soul into fucking you.

Not caring at how you talk so highly of your new husband and how well you both are adapting with each other. Rambling all on about your blossoming relationship with him, hearing you nervously speak of the plans on having kids together.

Of course not nervous on his behalf, no, no.

Because you are deathly nervous about if you will be a good mother or not, he knows you will, even if things are like this. You think it doesn’t hurt him, when you say genuinely on how he’ll be the “Cool friend of Mommy’s” to your children.

It drives a knife deep into my heart on how you speak so highly of this new life, how well you are adapting. When.. we could have had this.

“Tae..? You there?”

He’s not caring to respond to your rhetoric question that was all well laced of genuine care and worry, Taehyung can be an asshole just this once.

“Do you know what you are?”

You think this is a game of teasing now, he can tell with that pretty smirk plastered on your gorgeous face “What am I, sir?”

It’s too bad that he’s being genuinely serious.

“You’re my girl.”

You don’t take a second to pause, you play into the narrative with a grin that quickly warped into an innocent and sweet smile.

“I’m your girl, Taehyung.”

He only knew that you meant the world to him.. and he, adored you in his mind until it hurt.

#bts fan fiction #bts ff #bts smut #kim taehyung smut #kim taehyung fic #taehyung smut #taehyung x yn #taehyung x oc #taehyung x reader #taehyung ff #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung pwp #bts angst #kim taehyung angst #bts au #bts aus

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fxrmuladaydreams · 4 months

Text

red flags (cs55)

🤍sequel to drunken bets🤍

carlos x mclaren social media!reader

summary: some new information comes to light that taints your perfect relationship

notes: i know i said this was only going to be two parts, but it’s actually going to be three

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You wipe the tears from your face as you practically run outside. He calls your name and attempts to run after you, but gets stopped by people who just want a moment with the Singapore Grand Prix winner. You feel like you’re suffocating, surrounded by people, your lungs closing up, until you’ve made it outside. You gasp, and squeeze your eyes shut as a wave of tears spill down your cheeks.

The bottom of your dress is crumpled, most likely from when you were squeezing it in your hands. The dark red fabric makes you feel sick. It’s just another reminder that he played you, and you fell for it.

You scold yourself. You should’ve seen the red flags appearing, but maybe after that week in Spain you had gotten used to looking at him through rose colored glasses.

You were happy to get back to work after your little vacation with Carlos. You felt like you were in a genuinely good place. You had the job of your dreams, and an amazing boyfriend.

Your walks into the paddock with the Spaniard had become routine before your trip, but now he kept your hand intertwined with his, holding you close as you walked through the crowds. He leaves you at the McLaren building with a soft kiss on your cheek, which leaves you giddy for the rest of the day.

He meets you after work so you can both go back to your hotel together, spending your time in one room together rather than separate rooms.

To anyone outside of the paddock it simply looked like your friendship had grown. You had found a confidant to spend your time with. But to those who saw you regularly, they could see there was something more, something you weren’t sharing with the rest of the world yet.

Lando pulled you aside one day after Carlos gives you a soft kiss on the cheek and whispers a sweet goodbye to you then walks off, on his way to his own garage.

“That was quite affectionate.” He says. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest and a grin on his face. “But then again, Carlos did always have a thing for McLaren employees.” He gestures to himself.

You scoff and nudge him away from you. “It was nothing.” But you can’t stop the smile from spreading on your face.

“What did he say to you? Was it ‘Y/n, I love you so much, let’s run away together!’” He spins and clasps his hands under his chin.

You try to shush him, but you’ve come to learn there’s almost no stopping the dramatics of Lando Norris.

“Oh come on! I’m only joking!” He says in between laughs. “Besides, it’s obvious he’s obsessed with you anyways.”

You shake your head. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for qualifying?”

“Shouldn’t you be editing? Instead I find you out here about to lock lips with the enemy.” He teases as he walks back into the garage.

“Since when is Carlos your enemy?” You call out, following him.

That night you lay with Carlos in your hotel room. You wear one of his t-shirts that falls just past your underwear. He wears a pair of grey sweatpants. You lay with your head resting on his bare chest, your fingers softly tracing delicate patterns over his tanned torso. He has an arm behind his head, and the other over you, lazily running his hand up and down your back.

Lando’s words from earlier echo in your head.

It’s obvious he’s obsessed with you.

“Carlos?” You lift your head resting your chin on his chest to look in his eyes. “Have you ever thought about going public? With our relationship?”

He doesn’t answer at first, sending your heart plummeting into your stomach. He takes a deep breath before taking the hand the rests against his chest in his.

“I have. But I didn’t know if we should. You’re a private person and I want to respect that.” He says, softly squeezing your hand.

Your heart suddenly feels to full, full of love for him. You tilt your head down and place a soft kiss to his chest. “Thank you, really.”

You sit in silence for a few minutes, just admiring one another, then you speak again.

“I want to kiss you in the paddock.” Your voice is soft, your words trailing off at the end. “I want to be able to kiss you in front of other people, maybe then Lando will stop with the teasing.”

“You want to kiss me in front of Lando?” He giggles.

You give him a dramatic exasperated sigh, but laugh as you answer. “No, I just want to be able to kiss you whenever I want to. Whether that be in front of Lando or not.”

“I don’t know mi amor.” He sighs. “I don’t want anyone else to ruin what we have.”

This should have been your first red flag, his wanting to keep your relationship a secret.

“Oh, alright…” You murmur, leaning your head back down to lay against his chest.

You lay in silence for a few moments until Carlos shifts. He kisses the top of your head and holds you tighter against him.

“If you really want to, we can go public.” He says softly.

You look back up at him. “Really? You’re not just saying that because I want to?”

“No, I would love to be able to kiss you in front of Lando too.” He teases you.

You scoff and lightly smack his chest. “I don’t think I want to kiss you anymore, actually.”

When you start to get up Carlos pulls you back down to him, rolling over to keep you under him, locked in his arms. He peppers your face in kisses, leaving no skin free from the touch of his lips.

You squeal when he softly tickles your sides, laughter from both of you filling the room.

Later that night as you get ready to go to bed, Carlos sits on the bed with his phone in his hand and a disgruntled look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, as you climb into bed next to him.

He quickly locks his phone and sets it face down on the bedside table.

“Nothing.” His answer is quick and brief as he wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face into your neck. “Goodnight, mi amor.”

“Goodnight Carlos.”

The next day starts the same as the previous one, you walk hand in hand with Carlos into the paddock as he guides you to the McLaren garage. This time though when you stop in front of the entrance he gives you a questioning glance. He smiles when you nod and tilts his head down to capture your lips with his.

It’s not the first time you’ve kissed Carlos, not by a long shot, but it’s different kissing him somewhere that isn’t in a hotel room or on a secluded faraway vacation. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

You smile into the kiss, pulling away only when you feel his tongue slip into your mouth. You press your hands to his chest and let out a light laugh.

“Slow down there Chili, they don’t need to see everything.” You tell him.

He’s got a faint dusting of pink over his cheeks as he nods. “I’m sorry amor, I just can’t help it when I’m with you.”

You hear a gagging sound behind you, you turn to see none other than Lando Norris, dramatically hunched over the railing on the side of the ramp that leads inside.

“You two are disgusting.” He says, shaking his head.

“Jealous Lando?” Carlos calls back to him.

Lando scoffs. “No! You’re just getting your Ferrari germs all over her, you muppet!”

“And I’ll keep doing it too!” He kisses you again, this time making a show about it as he fully leans into you, sending Lando into a hissy fit.

News travels among the grid quickly. While no photos or recordings of your affections have been spread, though fans are still suspicious, it seems everyone in the paddock is quickly informed about your relationship.

Once fans do start to catch on, it spreads like wildfire. Your relationship with the Ferrari driver becomes the hot topic of conversation all over social media. Tweets, photos, and edits of and about the two of you flood your phone, so much so that you try to ignore it for a while.

You know you’re the one who wanted to go public, but you can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. An uncomfortable feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as fans start to refer to you as “the boat girl”. Photos from your Spain trip are now attached to your name. None of them are all too bad, but it does feel like a major invasion of privacy.

It makes you feel vulnerable. These people that know nothing about you have access to these photos of you wearing your swimsuit, cuddled up with your boyfriend while you thought you were alone.

It doesn’t take long for you to start wondering what this means for your future. You’re officially a WAG now, what would happen if you and Carlos were to ever break up? Would you still only be known as “the boat girl”? Would people even remember the work you’ve done at McLaren?

While you want to talk to Carlos about it, you know there’s not much he can do. He’s used to this, he’s been a famous Formula One driver for years now. You try to swallow down your discomfort and just focus on your current relationship and your work.

Since you’ve gone public, Carlos can’t seem to look away from his phone for more than a few minutes. You don’t know what he’s looking at, every time you get near him he’s quick to turn it off and shove it in his pocket, instead wrapping you up in his arms.

When asked about what he was doing he’d simply say “Nothing amor.” Then bury his face in your neck, giving you little kisses.

Clearly he was hiding something, another red flag.

Everything came crashing down at the Singapore grand prix.

With Max having been knocked out of qualifying by a surprised Liam Lawson, it left the rest of qualifying up in the air for everyone. Carlos had managed to pull through, earning himself the P1 starting spot, and through carefully calculated driving was able to keep P1 for himself and give Lando a P2 finish.

The crowd was roaring, this was the first race of the season that wasn’t won by a Red Bull driver, and fans were eating it up.

He jumped out of his car, and tossed his helmet to the side. His hair was wet, slick with sweat yet still effortlessly beautiful. His cheeks were tinted red, and a bright grin was spread across his face.

It was no surprise to anyone, well any of the other drivers, to see him dash over to the McLaren team and sweep a girl wearing papaya into his arms.

His eyes sparkled in the shining lights, you couldn’t help yourself, jumping up into his arms and kissing him.

He spun you around, practically jumping with joy. He was a little disgruntled to have to let you go, but thrilled again when he got to hug Lando. Nothing could bring him down from this high he was experiencing.

He sprays you with champagne from above, laughing as you look up at him with a fake pout on your lips.

You knew that celebrations were in order, not only for your boyfriend but for Lando as well, the two eager to go to a club to celebrate their wins.

You pulled out a dress you had been hoping to wear. It was a dark red color, the fabric soft between your fingers. You had been saving it for a while, hoping to surprise Carlos with it, and what better way than to wear his team’s color after he won?

He was surprised to see you in the new dress, his eyes trailing up and down your body, as if trying to commit you to memory.

“Mi amor… you look beautiful.” He practically groans, pulling you flush against him. “We could just stay here, celebrate on our own? I’d love to see if there’s anything else this beautiful under the dress…” His lips trail over your neck as he lets himself drown in the scent of your perfume.

“C’mon Chili, you’ve got people who want to celebrate you, we can celebrate later.” You wink, lacing your fingers with his as you tug him down the hall.

The club is loud, buzzing with excitement as people cheer when they spot Carlos. He keeps an arm locked around your waist so you don’t stray too far from him and he won’t lose you in the crowd. You were right, everyone wants a piece of your boyfriend tonight. You’re both dragged from person to person, trying to at least feign interest in those who are talking to you.

Carlos slowly sips on one drink throughout the night, allowing you to have a few without worry. You feel a slight buzz by the time you reach a few of the other drivers. Max leans against the wall, seemingly in deep conversation with Charles. Alex and George sit with Lily and Carmen. Oscar and Logan stand with each other chatting and glancing over at the rest of the crowd. Lando hops back and forth between groups, but visibly lights up when he sees the two of you.

“I’ll be right back amor.” Carlos says before kissing your cheek and heading to the bar. You see him start talking with Pierre and Lance, then your attention is pulled away by Lando.

“Already wearing red? My poor heart!” He exclaims, throwing a hand over his forehead.

You laugh. “Just for tonight. Tomorrow it’s back to papaya.”

You hang out with him for a little while longer, then excuse yourself to go back to Carlos.

Once at the bar it’s made pretty clear that Pierre and Lance have both had plenty to drink. They’ll definitely feel the repercussions of it tomorrow morning.

Carlos throws an arm over your shoulder as you nestle into his side.

“They’re so cute.” Lance says, looking over at Pierre.

“Thank you.” You feel your face flush.

“You’ll have a great story for your kids about how you met.” Pierre hiccups, then giggles.

“Yeah, walking into each other multiple times blossomed into a friendship, and now look at us.” You beam up at Carlos, who looks uncomfortable as he nods down at you.

“You walked into her? That was your big move? I need to use that!” Pierre laughs.

“Big move? What do you mean?” You ask Pierre.

“Amor-”

“His big move to get you to go out with him. He did it, and now I’ve lost money to him.” Pierre groans.

You feel a tingling sensation spread over you as you turn to look at Carlos. His arm drops from your shoulders.

“What is he talking about?”

“The bet, obviously.” Lance shrugs, then turns back to the bar.

“It was all a bet?” Your voice is soft, cracking slightly as you let your emotions wash over you.

When you turn back to him with tears in your eyes he can feel his heart break. He reaches for your hand, only for you to pull your back from him, almost flinching away.

“Mi amor-”

“Don’t call me that.” You back away from him.

“Y/n, please, I can explain.”

“Explain what? That you used me? And now you’ve got what you wanted, so you’re ready to toss me aside?”

“No!” He tries to step towards you again.

“It was all just a bet! None of it was real? The trip to Spain? The nights in hotel rooms? You probably hired that photographer yourself, right?”

“I would never! It started as a bet, but I promise you, my feelings are real!”

“How much did you bet them? Huh?” You reach into your bag and grab a wad of cash, shoving it into his chest. “That should cover it, right?” You scoff, and turn from him, towards the exit of the club.

“Y/n, wait!” He tries to call after you.

“It’s okay Carlos. You won your bet. Now you won’t have to see me ever again.” You tell him, rushing for the exit.

You finally let the tears fall once you’re outside, cursing the day you met the Ferrari driver and the day you gave him your heart.

#carlos sainz x reader #cs55 x reader #formula one x reader #carlos sainz

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stormgardenscurse · 8 months

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Local sleep deprived mess here, i was wondering if your amazing writer self would grace us with what vil,rook,leona,jamil and floyd would do if they woke up late one night and there s/o is just gone, so when they look for them they find them in the dorm kitchen baking because they had a bad dream? I adore your writing author-chan, keep up the great work! ♡♡♡

Summary: Baking late at night, after a bad dream...

Characters: Vil, Rook, Leona, Jamil, Floyd

Vil

At first, Vil wonders if he should start placing a curse on your slippers, so that if you tried to get out of bed at night, you'd only be dragged back to his side and let him know if something's wrong. But considering how you're always conscious about how busy he is and as such, try to keep your worries to yourself, Vil can't help feeling his resolve soften at the sight of you humming quietly, pouring ingredients into a bowl with practiced ease.

Baking was like chemistry or potion making, you'd once told him. It's honestly a horrible hour to have something sweet, but what kind of person would he be to leave you alone?

"I didn't think you'd find the energy to make something in the dead of the night." Vil says as a way of greeting. As he approaches you, it's easy to spot the flaws in your actions - shakier than usual, absentminded. It's easy to accidentally topple or drop items when you're like this. That's what Vil tells himself, anyways, as he takes the mixing bowl from you.

Rather than 'wasting' a few minutes of his time, it's worse if Vil ends up worrying about you the entire day if you don't speak up, you know?

He tells you as much; "You could have just called for me. Now be a dear and tell me what to do - I'd like to get back to bed before dawn."

Despite how he tries not to prod too much about what had shaken you, Vil finds himself glancing over at your expression to make sure you're okay.

The smile playing on your lips is a good sign, at least - he's glad you found some humor in how you managed to have the Vil Schoenheit baking for you. (For the record, he'd like to think he's quite good at it too compared to the average beginner.)

Rook

Suffice to say, you'd almost jumped out of your skin when Rook finally made his presence known at the entrance of the kitchen, eyes glimmering like a cat's.

While you tried to put on your usual smile and pretend everything was fine, it's hard to get your expression from earlier out of the hunter's mind. Beautiful as you are no matter what state you're in, he'd like to chase away any monsters that may be haunting you. And what was Rook Hunt if not tenacious in what he set his mind to?

Rook plays along at first by monologing about how he'd awoken to the loss of starlight in the sky… a hearth that held his heart… and when he'd followed the traces of where it had gone, he'd been led to you!

At his last words, Rook places his hands gently over yours, pausing your movements. Despite yourself, you can't tear your gaze away from him when he asks you what's wrong, almost folding on the spot.

Belatedly, you realize that allowing Rook to help also meant that he was starting to add unusual ingredients into the batter. You were surprised that the cookie dough actually tastes pretty good, despite its color from the many toppings he's put in.

God, does he love the sound of your laugh. When you pause and ask Rook what's wrong (he's staring), he simply gives you a radiant smile.

"It seems like my heart had just been returned to me." With the sly hunter resting his chin on his palm, elbow propped against the counter, you start to realize how disarming he looks with dishevelled hair.

Leona

Leona's normally grumpy when awoken from his sleep, but the feeling of an empty space next to him where you were just moments before was unsettling, to say the least. You were always a presence that barged in on his life even when he'd rather curl under the covers and sleep the day away, so to have you sneak out during the night was an odd feeling indeed.

Nevermind the fact he'd been sleeping so well that he didn't notice your absence until a while later (more delayed than he'd like to admit, ever since he got used to napping with you) - Leona was less than amused when he realized you got up to do work out of all things.

But of course, the first thing he does is say he'll steal your food once it's done baking. Rests his chin on your shoulder while he watches you mix and pour ingredients, lazily draping himself over you like a weighted blanket.

While these sweets won't really get rid of your nightmares, Leona decides that he can do that much himself. (With his presence or a a simple spell? Who knows.) When he tells you the food is an advance payment for his labour, you'd played into the topic by questioning what said labour was.

"To make sure you're well rested, of course." A lilt of confidence in his voice, Leona muses about his kindness for gracing you with his services. (In reality, he's just getting his partner back in his arms so that he can get back to sleep, but he won't linger on the specifics.)

Jamil

Perhaps it was just out of habitual behavior, but in the first seconds of processing you were gone, Jamil’s brain went from ‘they probably went to get water’ to ‘what if something happened to them’ (worst case scenario)

It’s a good thing you thought to leave a note for him though (it’s not often Jamil seems to sleep so peacefully, so you didn’t want to interrupt his much-needed rest), saying you went to the kitchen. After mulling it over Jamil finds himself unable to fall back asleep, and ventures to find you out of curiosity of what you’re doing.

He’d guessed you were making a late night snack or something along those lines - so color Jamil surprised when he sees you frosting the cakes you’d baked together earlier in the afternoon (someone’s birthday was tomorrow). You said something along the lines of saving him some work, since you were now awake anyways.

Rather than chiding you, Jamil instead takes out the box of extra vanilla sponge that was leftover after trimming the cake. Perhaps it was because he knew how doing something while plagued with unwanted thoughts had a calming effect, but he didn’t stop you, instead asking you what drink you wanted.

With two mugs on the table and Jamil scrolling through his phone as you work, you’re surprised when he uses a spoon to take some frosting out of your mixing bowl to dollop on the cake, haphazardly pairing them together.

At your questioning look, Jamil only shrugs with the hint of a smile. “Not everything has to be done to perfection, right?”

A comfort hidden beneath a subtle jab from your past words. You let Jamil feed you a bite, hands still occupied by the piping bag and frosting on your fingers.

Floyd

Doesn’t really ask what you’re doing in the kitchen, but offers to help you bake! Floyd turns your otherwise solitary session into a fun conversation. It’s a type of comfort that lets you know you don’t have to divulge what’s bothering you, but his presence will be there anyways by your side.

You’re not sure if Floyd is doing this consciously, but you do know that he’s quite in tune with your emotions, even if he might not magically know the reason behind your mood.

Floyd mentions you sound happier now. The topic ranges from random things that distract you to mundane questions classes. While you’re waiting for the pastries to bake in the oven, Floyd walks you around the dorm to stretch your legs.

…The underwater view from Octavinelle’s dorm really is something. How can your surroundings feel so vast when it’s technically just a part of the college? One day you might be curious enough to figure out how far the water goes, but for now you have to reject Floyd’s suggestion of going for a swim. The last thing either of you needed is for Azul to track you down for flooding the hallways with water, even if it sounded like a funny way to start the morning.

Thankfully, you remembered to set a timer on the oven so that it’d stop baking after twenty minutes! Some things taste best when they’re freshly made, and this was no exception; before you realized, between snacking on the pastries while talking to Floyd and waiting for them to cool down enough to put in the fridge… half of it was gone.

You just hope that you’re not too sleep deprived the next day, to the point where you can’t get up in the morning because Floyd is hugging you to himself like a human plush.

#vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #jamil viper x reader #floyd leech x reader #twst x reader #twst x you #twst reader insert #twisted wonderland imagines #twst writing #twst headcanons #storm writings

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headkiss · 6 months

Note

hi!!! fall request for steve or eddie! maybe the classic giving reader their jacket when it gets a bit chilly at night <3

hiii!!! this might be a little different than what you had in mind but i hope u like it anyways <3 | 0.6k, a fluffy domestic morning with eddie!

Since moving into your own trailer together, you and Eddie have gotten to know each other better than ever before, if that was even possible.

Exact routines, whether you shower in the morning or at night, the first thing you do when you wake up, what you change into when you get home from work. Every little thing is shared and sure, he leaves his socks lying around on the floor, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s why Eddie knows exactly where to find you when he wakes up to your side of the bed being empty.

Most mornings, when neither of you are working, you’ll stay in bed until someone’s stomach growls enough to get you up, cuddling and talking, your fingers tracing his tattoos, his hands warm on your skin.

Or, you’ll be restless and get up before him, making breakfast and leaving out extra for him to warm up, reading on the porch, reorganizing his music, or taking a walk around the trailer park.

Eddie blinks his eyes open and pats your side of the bed, reaching for your warmth, but he’s met with empty sheets and a pillow with the indent of where you’d slept. Sitting up with a groan and a stretch of his arms, Eddie peeks around the room for clues of what you’re up to this morning.

He’d rather be with you than guess, though, so he gets up quickly, tugging on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, his hair sure to be a mess.

The kitchen smells like coffee, a pot sitting half empty. As he pours himself a mug, he spots you through the window.

You’re sitting on the small porch of the trailer, a coffee mug resting on the arm of your chair, hair tossed up in a clip.

Eddie smiles at the sight of you there, at peace, in your home that’s also his. He grabs his leather jacket from where it’s slung over the back of a kitchen chair and steps outside.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, voice still scratchy from sleep.

“Hi, sleepyhead.”

Fall mornings are crisp, the sun bright but not warm enough to cover the coolness of the wind, fresh smell of leaves and the colors more vibrant after having just woken up.

Eddie sets his mug down on the empty chair, walking over to you, bending down to press a kiss to your hair and tossing his jacket over your shoulders.

“You’re gonna catch a cold one of these days,” he tells you, making sure his jacket rests on you comfortably. When he sits down, he tugs your chair closer to his, his hand finding yours beneath the fabric of his coat.

“You’d take care of me, though.” You tangle your fingers with his, already feeling warmer than before. Really, you’d warmed up the second he stepped outside. “Wouldn’t you?”

“‘Course I would, but then you’d get me sick, and you’d take care of me, and it’d be the worst cycle ever. Snotty tissues and shit.”

“Eddie!”

“Just saying! Wear a coat, stop the cycle, babe.”

You smile, turning your head to look at Eddie, his hair frizzy, his eyes still a little heavy from sleep, his cheeks pink from the bite of the fall breeze.

“Why wear my own coat when you could be all romantic and give me yours?”

“I do like being romantic,” he says, tilting his head. “Don’t tell Wayne I said that. He’ll never let me live it down.”

Eddie’s tone is light, teasing, because Wayne’s already fully aware of how bad Eddie’s got it for you, and he already gives him shit for it.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Munson.”

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yorshie · 2 months

Text

Tattoo Worship

Bayverse turtles x reader NSFW head canons concerning the tattoos I added to them.

Set in 2023 for turtles are 24-25

Leo

Sometimes when it’s just the two of you existing, little moments in between commitments and obligations, you will idly throw out poetry about Leo’s ink. Not anything big, not even anything considered good by most standards, but when you compare the flow of water and dancing petals laid out over his scales to the constant ebb and flow of your love for him, he’ll never fail to get this bashful, boyish smile on his face. The turtle with the biggest way with words will fall silent and pliant in your tiny hands.

The true beauty of his tattoo however, comes out during training. The fluid lines accentuate how his body moves, how each group of muscles work in tandem. He’d be a lying little shit if he said it didn’t give him an ego boost to catch you watching him while he’s working on his katas, eyes glued to the flexing lines before following their flow to his arm or further down his leg.

When it’s just the two of you he’ll let you touch it, let you skate your fingertips along the different colors. He might get a bit ticklish around the flower over the finer scales where his plastron meets his inner hip, but he’ll allow a few ticklish touches in order to feel the bliss of your touch on him. If you want to explore the larger flowers underneath his pant line however, he might get a little handsy in return.

Blue likes it when you use your tongue to trace his tattoo. The swirling lines of water in between flowers acts like a maze or a raceway, except the last thing he wants you to do is race to the finish line. If you want to start over he’s not likely to offer any sort of resistance unless you’re purposefully teasing him.

When your hands grab at his hips and ass he likes to imagine the pretty picture of your nails digging into the flowers along his left side, holding him closer. It reminds him to be careful, to not accidentally pinch your fingers underneath the ridge of his shell. He’d rather you grab his ass than his carapace but he knows it’s better leverage for you both to clutch onto the latter

He doesn’t really care if you want to call his tattoo pretty, so long as you look like you mean it. After years of different villains and Jones referring to him as the ‘pretty boy turtle’ he’s learned not to roll his eyes too much. When you gesture at, or press a hand to his hip, and tell him that you think his tattoo is pretty you’ll get either a crooked little grin if the two of you are going steady or a tilted head and a considering look if he’s not too sure you’re being genuine.

Donnie

You don’t often get to see Donnie’s tattoos. In fact, when you first meet him, he wouldn’t be surprised at all if you thought the tribal turtle on his shoulder was the only one he had. It’s not until you’re dating that you’ll see this dorkasauros rex in a relaxed enough environment to notice the blocky lines of his tattoo peeking out from a low rise pair of lounge pants. It’s not that he’s self conscious about them, he’s just usually is wearing his cargo pants or an added apron when he’s out in the garage and his tattoos are low enough on his hips and thighs to not be noticed.

However, the first time your fingers press into the lines his mind might short circuit just a little bit. For some reason Donnie’s nerves are just a little more sensitive, or maybe it’s just he’s a little bit of a baby when it comes to needles, but his tattoo hurt for a while after he finally got Raph to agree to help him ink himself. Now, though, the feeling of your fingertips, your palm, feels good in a way his mind can’t quite comprehend although he tries to. He’ll clutch your hands and hold them still against his hips, mind trying to catalog the sensation while he’s grinning like an idiot. It might take several tries of calling his name and drumming your trapped fingers before he lets you go.

Donnie likes it when you touch his tattoo, in any way he can get, though hard scratches make him wince. Soft touches and tracing the lines and the frill of the flowers on his quads will get you quivering muscles and shaky words if he’s trying to explain something to you while you’re doing it. Absolutely will go wild if you press kisses to his flowers.

Loves to look down while he’s entangled with you to see the harsher colors of his scales and ink peeking through the spaces where your limbs twine with his. If you’re between his legs and you grab onto his tattoo he might just squeak and pull his head and hunch his shoulders into his shell, but only because he’s blushing and he doesn’t want this to end too soon

If you call him or his tattoo pretty this tall turtle will blush and probably fumble whatever is in his hands. Especially if it’s your first time seeing his full tattoo, he might just trip and fall over while trying to untangle his feet. If you keep telling him though, he will eventually believe you, he just won’t understand how you think that’s possible.

Raph

Big Red’s tattoos are hard to miss, even if he’s dressed for patrol. His full sleeves spill out onto his traps and over his collar bones, coiling around his plastron like they’d continue if his scales existed underneath the hard keratin. He’s intimidating, and he knows the tattoos only add to it. He’s not afraid of using it to his advantage and has had more than one person admire them over the years of working with the police force.

It might take you a few hours to map out the expanse of his tattoos with kisses or even with your hands, there’s a lot of intricate details and hidden meanings in the symbols he chose, but if you ask nicely enough he’ll tell you what each one means, especially if he’s sweet on you and you’re stroking softly over the lines along his muscles. When you find the spots that have scars over the lines, he’ll switch to giving you vague answers on how he got them, not wanting to worry you over something that you can’t change. His tattoos are a sense of pride for him, a part of his story, a sign that he’s able to weather pain and tolerate hours underneath a needle.

If you catch him when he’s just done from a work out though, tired and achy but still high off the hit of adrenaline, his muscles will twitch underneath your touch, lines dancing as his nerves react to the stimuli. It’s these moments where running a tongue across his biceps will get a hiss and a look of heat, a quick warning of ‘you better be sure, baby’ before he takes you up on your silent offer and kisses you dizzy.

Raph loves it when you sink your nails into his arms, likes it when you miss his carapace and claw over his shoulders. He knows your little human hands can’t hurt his ink, and even if you did manage to leave a mark he’d wear it with pride, the little filthy gremlin that he is. Expect lots of churring if you scratch over his arms and maybe even a rumbled insistences of “harder, baby, that spot itches bad”

He likes to watch you in secret when you start ogling him. He might give himself away though by smirking when he sees your eyes widen as you map out the width of him or if your gaze trails along his tattoos. If you’re going steady he’s eventually going to call you out for it, go looking for some sugar to make up for ‘undressin’ me with your eyes’ as he usually puts it

If you call his tattoos pretty he might take offense if the two of you haven’t known each other long. If you’re together however, you’ll get either a) a bashful turtle rubbing the back of his neck and blushing or b) mr. bedroom eyes determined to show you how his tattoos are actually not ‘pretty’ thank you very much they are ‘sexy’ and he’s willing to spend any amount of time needed to convince you of the matter. You will never be able to tell which one you’ll get until you give the compliment.

Mikey

Mikey keeps his sleeve covered during patrols but that’s mostly because it’s so bright and colorful even he admits it could potentially give away their position. At home in the lair though, he usually takes his compression sleeves off, so it’s not unusual to see his tattoo early into meeting him. If you ask him about it however, he’ll simply point at a marigold and tell you he likes flowers, smiling and acting like he doesn’t understand that you mean the snarling dragon flashing through the orange flowers. He’s not above showing off and popping his biceps just to watch your face when the flowers double in size however.

If he’s sweet on you though, and you take the time to really get to know him, he’ll let you trace the petals and the scales across his arm, and maybe he’ll tell you why he was the first of his brothers’ to dabble in colorful ink and symbolism. He likes it when you touch him softly, when you hang onto him or press your cheek against the curve of his shoulder. If you press a kiss to the dragon’s snout he might tap his own lips and ask where his kiss is.

Mikey likes seeing his limbs tangled up with yours, likes seeing the contrast of your skin against his, whether it’s his green scales or his colorful tattoo. If you grab at his shoulders or biceps to hold steady it will drive him wild, but he’ll also give you a shit eating grin because he knows you can’t keep your hands off him but also ‘really, sunshine, if you want a piece of the Mikester all you gotta do is ask, baby, there’s no need to be shy-‘ cue whatever brother is nearest him to try slapping him upside the head

The one time he will let you explore to your heart’s content however, is in bed or the shower. This turtle is the one with the most, shall we say, frivolous bedtime routine, and if he can convince you to scrub his scales or rub lotion onto his arms he’s all game. He’s not picky on floral smells, so if you want to try out some girlie products on him he’s game. When he’s loose and liquid from the lovin and pampering, that’s your chance to take your time and learn all the little muscles along Mikey’s tat and discover just how ticklish he is when you touch the shaded dots that curl up underneath his arm.

If you call Angelo’s tattoo pretty, and take the time to make sure he knows you mean it, get ready to be swept up in a full bodied hug and maybe even swung in a circle. He’ll ask if you’ve ever considered getting one of your own, hey maybe the two of you can match, maybe you’ll even let him design it for you-

#my writing snippets #TMNT bayverse #TMNT #TMNT bayverse head canons #bayverse leonardo #bayverse leo #bayverse donatello #bayverse donnie #bayverse raphael #bayverse raph #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse mikey #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse mikey x reader #bayverse raph x reader

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viviennevermillion · 9 months

Text

ᴀ ʀᴏꜱᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴇʀʀʏᴍᴀɴ

✧ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: it is said that some people see the other side when they die even for just a brief moment. those near-death experiences often change them for good... blade wonders when the moment will come that he'll finally get to see you again.

✧ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ: blade x aeon!reader, gn!reader, fluff to angst, blade has a near-death experience; falls in love with you and then dan feng makes him immortal, ambiguous ending

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: 1000 years — kt tunstall

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: major character death, separated lovers, themes of death, angst

And thus, his chest was pierced by the same weapon he had forged with such care and effort. He felt an almost unbearable pain along with the notion of betrayal, hatred, anger and grief that seemed to cloud his entire senses. The sharp pain stretched from his heart all the way to his limbs and he could feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness. This is the end, he thought and part of him feared what would come next. This was the day that Yingxing died. The clouds over the Xianzhou were dark today and he knew that it was going to rain soon but he doubted he'd make it to feel the raindrops on his skin one last time.

The storm in his heart, seeming to seep out of the large wound and permeating his entire aura, raged on violently and seemed to devour him; toss him around like a lily caught in a tornado. He had never felt such pain before, both physically and emotionally.

And then the pain was gone.

Surprisingly, in that final moment, the one he had known as Dan Feng seized to exist for him. They say that everybody dies alone and he supposed in that moment he found that statement to be true. For a moment, the events that had led to the destruction of Yingxing stopped to matter. After all, he couldn't carry them along to wherever he was headed.

Perhaps that was a good thing.

He closed his eyes and yet he found himself to be able to see. He saw the stars above him, the sky suddenly clearer than he had ever seen it. It seemed to go on forever; like he could see galaxies far away from the Xianzhou just like that.

At first that void was frightening. It was too much, more than he ever had to feel in his life. There was a pressure and impending doom coming from the stars, as if he was laying on the ground and the sky was getting closer and closer until it would crush him under its weight. But the impact never came. Rather, the pain of his physical shell seemed to fade in the blink of an eye as he merged with the place from which he once came before inhabiting this mortal vessel and he noticed he couldn't even remember what it felt like to have a body.

He didn't know if "Yingxing" had stopped existing when his consciousness joined the great beyond once more or whether who he believed he was had never mattered in the first place. Like he had been caught up in a grand play and it was time for the curtain call. He had loved and hated the role that had been given to him to play but perhaps, most important of all, he had grown. As he let the universe wash over him, he felt, for a brief moment, as though everything he had went through had meaning after all.

He found himself on a distant shore, the stars sweeping over his feet like waves in an ocean. He sat himself up, finding his "body" without traces of the battle that had just occured. He let a strand of his long hair run through his fingers; now finding it to be a dark blue as it had been once in the old days.

Everything seemed so much more vivid than anything he had ever experienced. He could hear the sound of the waves with a clarity a mortal soul could only dream to experience. He could see for miles and everything seemed to burst into the most vibrant colors his eyes ever fell on. Every pebble under his right hand was one he registered individually. He didn't know where exactly he was but the place felt soothing. Like home.

The Aeon of Death had been something that was only ever speculated to exist. There were no records that confirmed their existence and no forces of their making that seemed to interfere with the material world other than the fact that every life sooner or later had to meet its end. This Aeon's existence was always regarded as more of a myth or metaphor than something people actually believed in, yet all depictions of them seemed to paint them as a harbinger of tragedy and suffering. Blade had seen drawings of them in books, dressed in flowing black fabrics and their face often obscured or distorted.

Yet when he saw you before him now, he found that the stories had it all wrong. Rather, your appearance was gentle and peaceful. He looked out to the sea and there you were, waiting patiently in a small boat for him to join you. The waves crashed into the bow and your boat swayed lightly to their motions. His hand reached for the waters and brushed through it, finding that rather than water; the sea seemed like the universe itself, his fingers casting ripples through the stars but never reaching the world he had just left.

You smiled at him from afar. In that moment he appeared to you like a child discovering something fascinating they had never seen before, playing with his surroundings to familiarize himself with it. You didn't mind waiting. You had time.

When he finally got up and carefully made his way to the boat, you got a better look at the man. He looked handsome but you could see on his face that whatever he had seen in this unreachable realm had taken a toll on him. He climbed into the wooden boat, sitting down in front of you, taking in your face for a little longer before he finally spoke.

"Why?", he simply asked, hurt evident in his voice as his words settled in the vast space around him, the silence that followed right after seeming to soothe his aches a little, "what was it all for?"

"You're the only one who will be able to answer that question eventually", you spoke quietly, making sure not to startle him, "I have never seen the world you come from. I can't reach it. I simply wait here for all who cross over. You chose to live this life, only you can find the reason."

He thought about your words for a moment, then letting out a bitter laugh. "Why would I choose something like that?"

You shook your head. "I can't tell you. And believe me I get that question a lot", you reached for a box behind you, placing it onto the small table that stood behind the two of you, "it seems our past choices can seem as unreasonable here as anywhere else." He mused that he probably shouldn't bother you with this type of stuff. However, he found himself to have a habit of ruining everything, so he supposed it was not that surprising for him to have chosen this painful life long ago.

His eyes fell onto the small ebony casket that had been placed before him.

"What's in the box?"

You gave him a mischievous smile. "In here lies the answer to any question you ever had", you spoke slowly, igniting an anticipation in him but also hesitation and fear, "however I must warn you. Opening it comes at a cost that is worth paying only for a select few." His eyes widened as he ran his fingers over the smooth material. He wondered, what could he have to give to you when he had just left everything behind upon entering this realm? Was he to sacrifice his chance at an afterlife and embrace eternal non-existence for the brief shot to make sense of it all?

"What's the price?"

You let out a laugh. "I jest", you responded and surprisingly, he felt a sense of relief wash over him, "there's no magic box that can explain the meaning of the universe to you." You lifted the lid to show him what was inside, placing a few cards and tokens on the table. Poker, he recognized the game and picked up a few of the pieces to inspect them; still trying to find something off about them. But they seemed to be just regular tokens. You smiled at the curiosity and suspicion in his eyes. Cute, you thought, surprised at your own reaction to your newest client. The craftsman raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"You'd be surprised how many people come here looking to bet and bargain."

He nodded. He could see why many humans would do this. "And you indulge them?", he questioned. You shook your head and winked at him. "Between us, I can win if I want to", you set up the game, "but you don't want to go back, so there's no need for me to intervene. We can play a friendly round if you'd like to."

He nodded once more, finding himself smiling at the absurdity of the situation. But it was a welcome change. Your presence seemed to soothe his aching soul with every minute he spent here, although he had no idea how much time had already passed. As you played, you gave him the chance to ask you more questions. Most of them were ones you had already had to answer over and over again. But there was something about this man that made them feel like a new experience; something that stimulated and amused you.

"So, is this the afterlife?", he asked dryly. "You can think of it as more of a.... hotel lobby. Your time here decides what room you'll end up in, so to speak", you tried to explain, "there's a world beyond what you've known so far that I can't possibly explain to you. You'll just have to see for yourself. But first we have to find out where your place lies." He pondered your words.

"And you're the receptionist?", he asked, feeling a little lost.

"Something like that", you chuckled as your eyes inspected his calloused hands, "I'll be your guide for as long as you stay here." Perhaps it was your own wishful thinking but you could almost see a hint of disappointment on his face. "And after that?", he asked, "will I ever see you again?"

He found himself surprised at his question but simultaneously he had gotten so used to that feeling of painlessness and peace he felt around you already, that he was afraid of losing it again in that place he was destined to go next. "It's only been a moment and you'd already miss me?", you teased, your fingers lightly brushing against his, "well I'm flattered." He didn't pull his hand away. He should pull away, he reasoned. He had been hurt so much, love and friendship had scarred him and made him wonder whether anything about it was worth the pain. But something about your touch felt so right, that he couldn't help but wish you'd just take his whole hand into yours and held it. Or just flip the table, forget all about the game and kiss him breathless.

He was shocked at his thoughts. His cheeks were heating up. What is wrong with me?, he internally cursed himself for being this weak for you. Just moments ago he had been in a brutal fight with his once closest companion; he had felt like his anger was going to be all that remained of him. And yet now the skies had shifted and the world he left behind felt so small along with the person he once was. What was so wrong about being happy?, he asked himself, clutching his fist, maybe it was time to be selfish for once and just forget all about what used to be and focus on the here and now.

Focus on you.

You who eased his sorrows even though they were still seeping into his mind every now and then. "There seems to be a lot on your mind", you sighed as you defeated him in the game, "may I ask for your name?" He didn't comment on his loss.

"I'm not sure", he shrugged, thinking back the the middle-aged man who died at the hands of the High Elder of the Vidyadhara. "Yingxing" didn't really feel right anymore. He felt as though he had taken a step into a larger world now. Reached a point of no return. You nodded, as though you could understand or had seen many like him pass through this place.

"You pick one", he shrugged, his eyes looking into the distance and you could tell he was still lost in thought. This was a lot to take in for him after all. Your eyes fell onto the sword he had brought along, undoubtedly one of his own making.

"How about 'Blade'?", you suggested, putting a finger to your chin. He thought about it for a moment, then felt himself nodding and smiling genuinely for the first time in a long time.

"Blade."

As time went on, he learnt that you had never been to the mortal realm. That you experienced it through the memories of those you guided to the other side. You promised that you would visit him at any time he wished to see you once he had crossed over. That time wasn't linear in this realm and that a second could feel like months here. He took his time to learn about you; to find out what interested you about the material world and what things you had seen in your line of work. What the universe was like, experienced by a being such as yourself. He had apologized for asking so many questions that you probably heard over and over again. You had simply shaken your head.

"All in a day's work."

You reassured him that you were enjoying your time with him. Basic questions about the realm Blade now found himself in turned into long conversations he thought he'd never have again. His soul was already laid bare before you, he didn't feel urged to hide his feelings and past from you. You were so attentive and understanding. He wished you had been there for his time on the Xianzhou. Maybe that would have made him feel a little less lost.

Fleeting touches turned into finally holding his hand in yours and him resting against your chest with a content smile on his face. He had never told you he loved you but he felt like deep inside you knew. The first time you kissed him, he felt a spark ignite inside him that he thought had long since been snuffed out. Your lips tasted sweet, like the salvation he had so desperately longed for, yet never could have imagined to be like this. He kissed back hungrily, your fingertips wiping away the tears of relief he couldn't stop from running down his cheeks. Every peck you left on his skin, whether you scattered them on his hands, his shoulders or placed them at the corner of his mouth; he felt he could never get enough of them.

He'd hold you tightly in his arms, leaving kisses on your neck before pulling you into a loving kiss again, his tongue clashing with yours as he poured all the words he couldn't say and the passion he couldn't put into words into his kiss. He eventually leaned his forehead against yours with a happy smile. You guided souls to the other side day in and day out. You never expected yourself to fall in love with one. But Blade had captured your heart by storm. He was the one you had been waiting for all this time. He was your forever. Both of you were finally happy.

You both knew he was ready to move on and spend the rest of eternity by your side. That was his place in the great beyond. And it seems it was meant to be yours too. He nodded as the two of you were ready to embark on your next great journey together, leaving the sea of doubts behind you, ready to step into the sun. Blade gave you one last kiss to your lips. He looked at you with a peaceful smile on his face, his eyes promising you forever.

And then that moment ended.

He could only hear you desperately call out to him as he was pulled away from you, his hand trying to clutch yours as he was fading from view and his fingers slipped out of yours. He was panicking. It couldn't end like this. He remembered how happy you were just a moment ago. How worried you must be now.

The peace and tranquility was quickly replaced by emptiness and grief and anger again as his soul violently slammed back into his once mortal body. If he thought the pain from exiting it was bad, the one from entering it again was even worse. He groaned in pain, clutching the large wound on his chest and feeling it close below his fingers, much to his surprise.

Suddenly the Xianzhou seemed to matter again and your soothing touch felt out of his reach. He thought he was simply healed. That this was temporary and if he wanted to, he could just go back to you. But he realized quickly that this was not the case.

His eyes widened in shock and he stared in disbelief at his shaking, scarred hands as he realized what had become of him. What someone made of him. His breath hitched in his throat as he bit back the sobs that escaped him. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he looked up to the man who did this with horror in his eyes. Dan Feng seemed unresponsive, as if caught in a trance.

Blade bit his lips. He didn't want to cry in front of this man. Not like this. Not here. But he couldn't help the despaired sobs coming from his mouth. His voice broke when he spoke.

"What have you done?"

Years had passed since that day. He often wondered what you would think if you could see him now. How bitter and hateful he had become; all the destruction he had caused on his path to reunite with you and kill the man who bestowed this cursed immortality onto him.

On some days it felt like the mara was driving him to the brink of insanity. Would he still be the same person you never got the chance to say goodbye to when death would finally come for him? Or would he have become something that you could never possibly love? The thought kept him awake at night. It scared him more than the pain he knew might plague him for many years to come.

He had never told anyone about you. You still felt like his happy ending that was ripped from his grasp and as much as the Stellaron Hunters helped him in his goal, he didn't want them or Dan Feng or anyone meddling in it.

He may have been the only one to have captured your heart, but there were many others who had almost crossed over and met you. Those who came back would sometimes seek him out and deliver messages from you to him. This was how, despite all, he at least had the reassurance that you were still out there waiting for him to return. The messages you had delivered to him were different each time but you never failed to tell him that you loved him so much.

Blade could hear the quiet beeping of the life support machine from outside the hospital room door. The nurse who had accompanied him here lightly knocked on the door and Blade could hear coughing from the other side. "Mr. Petrov? You have a visitor", she opened the door and Blade stepped into the room behind her.

Mr. Petrov had spent his whole life on a planet that Blade had never visited before. The old man opened his tired eyes to look at the stranger standing in the doorframe to his hospital room. He couldn't recall ever having met this person, but it was possible that he had simply forgotten about him. Meanwhile Blade knew for sure that the sickly man on the life support machine was a complete stranger.

Blade sat down beside his bedside, placing a small wooden box on the man's nightstand. He had left his phone on the starskiff; there was no need for Silver Wolf and Kafka to learn of this meeting.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I recognize you, son", the old man coughed once more and gave him an apologetic look. Blade shook his head. "We've never met." The old man had no idea of the atrocities that Blade had committed. He didn't need to know this, Blade thought.

"Then what brings you here today?", the patient seemed surprised. "I need to ask you a favor", Blade simply responded. The old man let out an amused laugh, sending him into another coughing fit. "I'm not sure if they told you, my friend, but I only have a few days left to live", Mr. Petrov reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, "my respiratory system is shutting down. I'm not sure what favor I could possibly do for you. I'm 94."

"I'm aware", Blade sighed and for the first time since he woke up in this cursed body again he took up the courage to talk about you. He described to the man what you looked like. "If you meet this person- ...on the other side I mean", Blade stared off into space, "could you deliver a message to them? Tell them to wait for me. Tell them I'll find them again one day."

The dying man raised an eyebrow at the seemingly young Stellaron Hunter. "Well, I don't know what's waiting for me on 'the other side', kid, but I'd imagine the afterlife is pretty vast. There's no guarantee I'd meet this person you're talking about."

"You will", Blade insisted and opened the wooden box, revealing a game of poker inside, "up for a game or two?" Mr. Petrov scratched his beard. "Why?"

"Practice."

The old man laughed. "They play poker in the afterlife?", he seemed amused but helped Blade set up the game, "well, I suppose there are going to be a lot of people ready to bet and bargain." Blade felt himself smile slightly as he remembered the first time you met. He was hardly used to smiling anymore so it caught him off-guard.

Mr. Petrov inspected Blade's face. The man seemed lost in thought again, as if he was yearning for something. As if he had been waiting for a long time. Anyone else would have found this encounter with the young stranger in his hospital room absurd but the sick man just accepted the situation as it was. Impending death was weird like that.

"So...", he started, an expression of understanding on his face, "anything else you want me to tell his person?"

Blade hesitated for a moment. Images flashed through his mind of your smile and the way you had kissed him. The ideas you exchanged and the future you had promised each other. How, despite all, despite the frustration and hatred, Blade now had no doubt where he was meant to be. With new-found courage and sincerity Blade finally allowed himself to say what he hadn't dared verbalize for all this time.

"Tell them... tell them I love them. I love them so much, I have no idea what to do with myself. And I miss them... I miss them every goddamn day."

#honkai star rail blade #hsr blade #blade x reader #blade honkai #blade x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr

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shirefantasies · 2 months

Note

Hello! 👋 Your work is amazing! I was wondering, how do you think the LOTR characters would interact with their companion/crush who has a loyal dog/wolf companion? How would the dog react to the characters? I just like the dynamics between people and animals. Take care!

SUPER OLD REQUEST I’M SORRY!!! Hmmmm interesting 🤔 I'm a huge animal girlie, though it's cats for me hehe! Love imagining my faves with animals omg 🥺

LoTR Characters + Your Loyal Canine Companion

Aragorn

✧ As someone who bonds with animals, he understands immediately and feels a sort of trust toward you because you respect other living things.

✧ He approaches the beast with great caution, near-reverence, offering a tentative hand. It is your turn to smile as your companion warily accepts, butting its head into his palm as he whispers gentle encouragement in Elvish.

✧ With your permission, takes it out tracking, curious to compare skills and see how the beasts of the world are truly made for their roles in a way even the greatest ranger cannot be.

✧ He sees firsthand the way you trust each other, move in battle as if carefully choreographed, and remarks how truly lucky you are.

✧ It moves your heart to see Aragorn’s grin one night when your companion practically knocks him off his seat by the fire.

Legolas

✧ You can see the surprise coloring his eyes before he actually speaks, the way they trace your motions and the furrow of his brows.

✧ Fearing it is judgment, you cross your arms and bite out a “Don’t tell me- an elf who’s not one for beasts?” Calm as anything, he replies in a tone dripping with wonder that he has never seen one so in tune with the world of nature, and at that, in the face of his satisfied smile, your jaw and tone drop.

✧ Naturally, your guardian is completely calm in Legolas’s presence, regarding him with a politely cocked head and an inquiring gaze sated by the elf’s hand upon its head.

✧ Legolas sees the way it curls up in the dirt at your feet, shakes his head and takes one of his blankets, wrapping the fabric into a nest for it.

✧ You catch him having a race with it one day, claiming with great merriment that the dwarf bet him he was slower than the animal.

Boromir

✧ Chuckles deeply at the sight of who trails you, shaking his head in wonder. “Don’t you two make quite a pair?”

✧ Asks right away if he can take the beast hunting, saying he envies you such a great hound.

✧ This leads to Boromir sitting at your side and recounting grand tales of Gondor’s best hunts, idly stroking the beast at your feet as he reminisces.

✧ He loves tossing sticks for the dog/wolf, amusement and peace clear upon his face as he opens his arms to the returning canine. “I could get used to this.”

✧ Your companion serves as an avenue for him to admit his feelings, starting with telling you your home must truly be a happy place with such a beast in it.

Gimli

✧ You probably meet because your companion goes bounding up to the dwarf at once, all but knocking him over. “Control your dog or I shall have to!” We all know, of course, that he is all talk.

✧ It surprises you how friendly your guardian is with a stranger, but his merry chuckles are quite infectious, bringing a smile to your lips.

✧ When you begin your travels together Gimli builds up a teasing friendship with the canine, playfully arguing with it as it noses against him for the meat he is eating and he shoos it, only to sneak a bit down anyway.

✧ Can be a bit rough with play sometimes, but you know your beloved beast can handle it, especially if it’s quite large, then they are evenly matched! Sometimes they all but wrestle in the dirt, tug-of-war somehow having turned much more silly and personal.

✧ Knows your companion’s name, but still always calls it Laddie/Lassie.

Frodo

✧ “How did you come by this creature?” Frodo is the only fellowship member to ask questions rather than whisper to themselves, and you appreciate that, telling him the story one night.

✧ Since then, the young hobbit offers plenty of secret little smiles your way and you ask for stories of his people in return.

✧ When the weight of the ring gets heavier Frodo finds himself curling his fingers through the fur at the top of the beast’s head idly, bringing him that much closer to reality’s solid ground.

✧ He even finds a special form of companionship in the moments anxiety overtakes him, your canine friend sensing his unease and draping itself upon him like a warm, heavy blanket.

✧ Grateful is an understatement. Frodo tells you in a soft voice that he doesn’t know what he would do without you two by his side.

Sam

✧ Before he even has a chance to get defensive your companion melts for him, warming up to the hobbit like none you’ve ever seen.

✧ The way they take to each other surprises you, Sam keeping aside bones from the broth to give it and your guardian taking circling Sam just as seriously as with you.

✧ Maybe it has something to do with the way Sam looks at you, the awe glistening in his eyes and the way he says your name like he isn’t worthy of it, though of course he’s the most worthy of the whole lot.

✧ Uses your companion as a sort of proxy to say things to you he’s too shy to say to your face, telling it how amazing its owner is and the like.

✧ Refers to the wolf/dog as Miss or Mister partially because he thinks it’s funny and usually says it in a jolly voice but also so you know how much respect he has for it.

Merry

✧ “Well, I haven’t seen a dog this big since outside that bar in Bree! What’s his name?”

✧ Sees your companion as a pet, which though not entirely wrong creates a more playful dynamic between them once they both understand neither is a threat.

✧ Merry can’t help bursting into laughter the day he knocks you over in a sparring match, only to get peeled off you by a massive wall of canine. Keeps laughing once they both unfreeze and he gets licked, trying to roll back up and away from the new attack. “I was going to ask if he knew any tricks, but no need now it seems!”

✧ Retaliates by finding the ‘sweet spot’, scratching until your canine friend kicks his legs like they do!

✧ Opens up to you one day, remarking how he wishes to be half of such an in-tune duo in battles and in life. Not that he doesn’t love his cousin, but he craves a different kind of companionship, one you assure him he could have with a fond smile on your lips.

Pippin

✧ Peers at you with the round eyes of complete shock, having seen nothing like you in his Shire days.

✧ Keeps the beast plenty occupied letting it run after him, tearing giddily around the camp once he sees you keep friendly company.

✧ He makes the mistake one night of extending his spoon for your guardian to sniff, only for his morsel to be stolen. Pippin cannot help a laugh, though, and a glittering look your way. “He likes to eat as much as I do, I see!”

✧ You cannot help softening at the fire one night upon looking over and seeing that the hobbit has fallen asleep, his head resting gently against the soft side of your wolf/dog.

✧ Definitely sees your companion as a way to get to know you better, asking plenty of questions and getting close to the canine in hopes to earn a place by your side, too.

Faramir

✧ Lives by a sort of silent oath to question but accept. Thus he asks why you travel with a beast, but listens to your reasons with firm nods and the beginning flicker of an understanding smile.

✧ Offers his hand very tentatively, having had his touch rejected or struck against many a time, but when the dog/wolf nuzzles against him he looks at you with joyous pride that melts you.

✧ That little interaction has you wanting to bring the two of them together, some inexplicable invisible string tugging you closer to Faramir by the heart.

✧ You let him feed your companion, indulge in a game of fetch, and in between it all make some conversation yourself. Amazing, really, all the knowledge Faramir has and he is equally impressed with your prowess in nature.

✧ Faramir always tells you how you remind him of great heroes from the stories he grew up reading with his brother.

Eomer

✧ “Who is this,” he teases you with a smirk, “your mount?” “No,” you shoot back, “though he is sure leagues more loyal than yours.”

✧ Challenges you to a competition, a challenge of hunting between him and his horse and you and your beloved canine. You win, and he accepts, offering pats to its head.

✧ Ever the tease, Eomer dubs you the Lord/Lady of Dogs, but you know by his smile and the glint in his eyes that he means it with affection.

✧ Invites you on patrols of his land’s borders, saying he trusts you both to get the job done.

✧ Suddenly he keeps talking about taking in a dog of his own so yours has a sibling, more and more thoughts along that vein invading his mind…

Haldir

✧ Fears your companion will slow the party’s orc tracking down, especially as many members utilize the cover of the trees.

✧ Allows you to do as you please, though, his soft spot evident in the way he shuts down any and all whispers about the group’s most unique member.

✧ You can see it, too, hear it in the way they speak warily of your fellow hunter, but you will not be parted. Instead you prove them wrong as your fierce defender takes down several of your quarry on its own.

✧ Haldir himself commends you both, offering a tentative hand to your newly shared ally and smiling up at you as it is accepted. Something different flashes in his eyes alongside the almost shy look.

✧ “Truly, how much less exciting my life would be without you in it…”

Eowyn

✧ Astounded by the way you two communicate, it is as if you truly do understand each other. She questions it, asks how this can be.

✧ Takes you by the horses, curious if your harmony spreads. She smiles at the way you interact with them, but it is clear just from that that the bond with your companion has been forged over years.

✧ Absolutely ready to fight to get a suit of armor made for your canine friend complete with a helmet and all of Rohan’s motifs of course!

✧ “After all, we much protect such beauty, no?”

✧ Playfully dangles things in the air, giggling whenever your canine guardian leaps for them and smiling widely at you.

Arwen

✧ Kneels down and whispers something in Elvish to it the moment she sees trepidation in its eyes, calming your companion immediately.

✧ It fosters a sense of trust between you and the woman, whose side you kneel to, tangling a hand in your canine's fur next to her.

✧ She is reminded, of course, of Huan, Oromë’s most famous hound and wonders if your beast could even be his descendant.

✧ Fair and just, Arwen quickly falls into the circle of people your furry comrade protects, chuckling deeply when it growls at the next set of people joining you as visitors to Rivendell. She speaks gently to it, asking it with a teasing tone how it still feels such unease in such a place.

✧ She knows you feel like an outsider sometimes and works to correct that, constantly telling you you have such strength and a place in the world- even Rivendell with her if you so desire.

Elrond

✧ Looks taken aback by the large form that follows you, brows raising at the creature entering his home. He hesitates, makes to hold it back, but when you insist you both go or neither the elf somewhat grudgingly nods.

✧ Used to odd patrons as he is, Elrond reminds himself that he welcomes all and asks politely for the beast’s name.

✧ Studies up on its origin if he is not already aware, trying to determine if this is an ordinary wolf/dog or one with any ties to the land’s magic.

✧ He sees your companion charge into battle at your defense, risking its own life, and with a nod of pride rushes in to save it from its own sacrifice.

✧ From then on Elrond regards your guardian as an equal of sorts, stroking its head in passing and speaking to it as if it could understand him.

Lindir

✧ Goes to comical lengths to step away from and avoid the massive canine at your heels when first he meets it.

✧ Possibly even asks if it’s safe, has fleas, etc. but immediately retracts and offers pats when you glare at him for it. Finds himself smiling despite himself at the feeling of the soft fur beneath his hand.

✧ You’ve seen dogs that howl as their owners play instruments? Then you know exactly what it is I am saying. The kick Lindir gets out of this is astounding; he can’t even be annoyed.

✧ Jokes that you’re hiding a composer under the guise of a hunter.

✧ Takes to the idea of further training, seeing how such an intelligent creature could learn to open doors and fetch items, considering such a use for helping Rivendell’s infirmary patients and those struggling with loss of motion or senses.

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