#this man ahs too many names to tag

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere x reader

[arieslost]

the other papaya | op81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader (brief pato o’ward x fem!reader)

summary: something something the first five times you hear the name “oscar piastri” and the one time you say it

wc: 3,165

warnings: mention of covid lockdown, a wee bit o’ angst, drinking

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

The first time you heard Oscar Piastri’s name, it was said in contempt.

You knew your boyfriend didn’t hate him, but you also knew that Pato could practically hear the phone ringing with the offer to drive for McLaren in F1 right up until he found out that the seat was going to someone else. To Oscar Piastri. The “kid,” as he so aptly referred to him.

“He’s only two years younger than you,” you admonished him one night, soon after the announcement was made public.

“Exactly. A kid.”

“I’m two years younger than you.” You said, and that made him wrinkle his nose.

“Point taken.”

You would describe your relationship with Pato O’Ward as puppy love. Things between the two of you escalated a little too quickly, as many things in 2020 did. You went from going on a whopping four dates by the end of 2019 to living together for the foreseeable future when everything went on lockdown. Your mother had voiced her concern about it, but if you didn’t live with him you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Besides, you liked each other so much that it only made sense that you continued to build your relationship in the comfort of his spacious apartment. The two of you settled into a decent rhythm, and you took the time to learn more about motorsport. When he was finally able to hit the track again, you went to every race you could, decked out in papaya, cheering him on no matter what. And you continued to do so even though he lost his chance at driving in F1 to “the kid.”

The second time you heard Oscar Piastri’s name, it came from the man himself when you ran into him at the 2024 Australian Grand Prix.

It was the first time you felt rather hesitant about going to a race with your boyfriend. Pato was welcomed to the McLaren F1 team as a reserve driver, and that was how you found yourself feeling extremely out of place in the McLaren garage. You met Oscar’s girlfriend before you met him, and while she was kind enough to get you a pair of headphones and offer to sit with you during the race, the entire interaction had you feeling like you should’ve just stayed back at the hotel. All the other WAGs were dressed to the nines, looking effortlessly beautiful, and you were wearing ripped jeans and a jersey with Pato’s number on it, like you always did, even though he wasn’t racing. With Pato busy in a debrief, you were busy just trying to stay out of the way and not stick out like a sore thumb.

“Excuse me,” someone said, and you assumed you were in the way, so you apologized and started moving when the person grabbed your arm to stop you. “No, sorry, I just– hi. You’re Pato’s girlfriend, yeah?”

Your eyes widened when you recognized the man talking to you. “Um… yes, I am.”

“I’m Oscar. Piastri,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded, accepting his handshake and telling him your name in return. “Are you here to tell me I need to leave?”

“What? No, of course not. Pato told me you were here, so I wanted to come say hi.”

“Oh.” You could feel your face starting to grow hot, because you really weren’t sure what to do in this situation.

Pato lost a chance at a seat to this guy, and you remembered his disappointment well. But you didn’t expect Oscar to come up to you in a million years.

“That’s really nice of you,” you continued, trying to smile without looking too awkward. “Congrats on getting the seat. You must be pretty talented.”

“Ah, thanks.” He looked at you for a moment, and you looked back. “Anyway, I just wanted to say hi.”

You giggled in spite of yourself. “You said that already.”

“Right, yeah. Well, it was nice to meet you,” he said, hesitantly tacking your name onto the end of his sentence. “Thanks for being here.”

“Nice to meet you too, Oscar. Good luck today.”

Two races later, Pato messaged him to congratulate him on his podium, and you mentioned wanting to thank and congratulate him yourself. You got Oscar’s number, and after his quick response, the conversation died out, just as you expected. You didn’t have anything else to say to him anyway, but soon after, you got a follow request from him on Instagram. You accepted without a second thought– just one papaya supporting another.

The third time you heard Oscar Piastri’s name, it was when a TikTok showed up on your feed talking about the “shocking split” between him and his girlfriend. You were reasonably surprised; his girlfriend was beautiful and kind, and from an outsider’s perspective they seemed quite happy with each other. The video went on to discuss speculation that his girlfriend was the one who had ended the relationship, and there were pictures of him looking visibly upset at the latest race. You closed the app, feeling like you were massively invading his privacy even though the first thing you saw upon opening Instagram was a statement on his story confirming the breakup. You couldn’t imagine what he was going through.

“Ah, so you saw, too,” Pato said, adjusting his workout clothes as he leaned over your shoulder.

“It’s terrible,” you sighed, shutting your phone off. “They seemed so happy together.”

“High school sweethearts, too. That makes it worse.”

You gave him a look. “You can feel bad for him, y’know.”

“I do!” Pato raised his hands with a laugh. “But if he wants to sit out of a race because of this, I won’t be upset.”

“You’re terrible, get out of here.” You shoved him playfully, and he left with a kiss on your forehead.

The last race weekend before summer break brought you a taste of the heartbreak Oscar went through only a couple months prior.

Pato had been in one of the older cars running some tests, and came home a little later than usual. He didn’t even answer your question of how his day was before he was sitting you down on the couch and looking anywhere but at your face.

“Pato, what’s going on? You’re kind of freaking me out,” you laughed nervously.

“I think we should break up.” He said, face stony.

You blinked. “What?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a little while,” he began, “and I think it’s for the best.”

“How long is ‘a while’?” You asked, shifting away from him as you felt your heart begin to pound.

“Ever since I became a reserve driver.” He confessed, and you scoffed.

“Are you serious right now?”

“This is the closest I’ve ever been to a F1 seat.” He said, like that made breaking up logical.

“Yeah, I know. And you know how I know? Because I’ve been around for years.” You hissed, standing up and walking towards the bedroom. “But I guess that means nothing to you.”

“Don’t be like that,” Pato protested, following close behind. “This is my career. I don’t want to risk anything.”

“Right. Of course.” You nodded, moving about the room to collect as much of your stuff as you could with shaking hands.

The rest of the week went by in a blur. You packed up all your things and took the soonest flight to Australia to try and forget about the fact that Pato had just thrown away years of being together for a fleeting chance at driving a stupid race car.

The fourth time you hear Oscar Piastri’s name, it’s on the other end of the phone.

The two weeks following your breakup are uneventful and entirely consist of you, the warm Australian sun, and the spare bedroom in your aunt and uncle’s house. You haven’t deleted any of your IndyCar posts, nor have you posted any more. In fact, you haven’t posted anything since the last time you were in Australia, only a few months ago. Your Instagram has become stagnant; a reflection of your real life. You haven’t told many people about your breakup, so you’re surprised when your phone rings. Even more so when you see who it is.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Oscar. Piastri,” he adds his last name like an afterthought, just like he did when he introduced himself in the garage.

“I know,” you say, pushing yourself into a sitting position on your bed. “Caller ID. Although you’re probably the last person I’d expect a call from.”

“Listen, are you not around anymore?” He asks, evidently not in the mood to beat around the bush. “I haven’t seen you, and you haven’t posted about IndyCar or anything.”

“Ah, um, yeah, no, I’m not.” You clear your throat uncomfortably. “Actually, Pato and I broke up. Well, he broke up with me. So, no reason for me to be around, I guess.”

“Oh,” Oscar says, his loud sigh crackling through the microphone. “I figured something was wrong. Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. I’m uh… I’m sorry too. Seemed like you had a good thing going.”

“Thanks. Seemed that way for you, too,” he mumbles. “So… I guess things have really been sucking for both of us lately.”

“Pretty much.” You laugh.

“This is a terrible idea,” he begins after a moment of silence, “but are you in Australia right now?”

You debate lying to him, because it is a terrible idea, and you have a feeling you know what he’s going to say next. You don’t care. “I am.”

“Alright, well, it’s summer break for F1 right now, and to be honest you’re the only person I know that understands what I’ve been going through.”

“Are you asking me to be your wallowing buddy?” You ask.

“Something like that. My plan was pretty much along the lines of drowning our sorrows in alcohol.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and for some reason that does you in.

The fifth time you hear Oscar Piastri’s name, it’s through a cheap karaoke microphone.

You’ve lost count of how many days you’ve spent with him, and you feel like you’re still a little drunk from the night before when he breaks open a bottle of champagne.

“What is this, a celebration?” You ask, stretching your arms and legs out so you look like a starfish where you lay on the living room floor.

“It’s whatever the fuck we want it to be.” He takes two glasses and pours the champagne out.

You giggle at him while he dramatically sets them both down on the coffee table at your side. “You definitely pregamed before you got here.”

“I did not,” he protests, but you shake your head.

“No, no, you say curse words like that when you’re drunk.”

“Like what?”

“Like, ‘oh my God, this champagne is so fucking good.’” You mock him after taking a sip, and he starts laughing too.

“Fine, you caught me.” He throws his hands up. “I pregamed. But, I walked here, so who cares?”

You’re glad that your aunt and uncle are out for the night, because a few hours and countless glasses of champagne later find the both of you in the attic, discovering a karaoke microphone without a machine to match.

“Screw the machine, we don’t need the shitty machine,” Oscar rolls his eyes, watching you put batteries into the microphone. “We’ll just find something on YouTube. Does it work?”

You flip the switch and hold it up to your mouth. “HELLO? It works.”

You regret putting fresh batteries into it as soon as Oscar gets up to sing. You think that he might not be half bad if he’s sober, but drunk, his singing is absolutely insufferable. You would care if you weren’t equally as drunk as him. He pulls up a karaoke video of Last Friday Night by Katy Perry, only after getting you to swear on the lives of your entire family that you won’t tell anyone what you see or hear. You consider secretly recording him, but the second he starts, you’re practically folded in half from laughing so hard at his antics and the fleeting idea is gone.

He’s so dramatic with every lyric, like he’s trying to act all the words out while he’s singing about a stranger in his bed and pink flamingos in his (nonexistent) pool. When he gets to the part of the chorus talking about taking too many shots, he gestures for you to hand him the champagne bottle. You hand it over immediately and watch as he stops singing entirely to take a long drink straight from the bottle, ignoring how attractive he looks the whole while. You actually think that you’d really like to kiss him. You’re drunk, and you’re heartbroken. You just want to laugh and forget about it all. So when he chokes on the champagne for a moment and flounders to find where he’s supposed to be in the song, you do just that.

The song ends both too soon and not soon enough, and you give him a round of applause, chanting, “Encore!” a few times as he takes a bow.

“I’m Oscar Piastri,” he yells, “and I fucking hate relationships!”

You cheer loudly. “Speak on it!”

“Except I have a problem,” he says, all of a sudden dejected as he flops onto the couch beside you, still speaking into the mic. “I have a biiiig, huuuuge problem.”

“Tell the all-knowing, and she shall answer,” you turn onto your side to face him and reach out to… you don’t remember what you wanted to do. Maybe touch his cheek. Or his nose. Or his lips.

Your hand ends up resting on the top of his head, fingers tangled in the soft strands of his hair.

“I think I might really like you,” he whispers, his words muffled by his lips smushing against the top of the mic. “Which is not good. I mean, it’s good, like, I think you’re amazing, but it’s not good, because I broke up and then you broke up, so we both broke up, but not with each other, with other people, and–”

You cut him off by taking the mic from him with your free hand and switching it off.

“Sorry.” He says, blinking at you slowly. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“We do,” you begin, petting his head. “Eventually. But not now. I am way too drunk to talk about this.”

This makes him start giggling, so you start giggling, and then you’re both cackling and clutching your stomachs.

You want to laugh, and forget about it, and you want to do it every single day with Oscar.

The first time you say the name Oscar Piastri, it’s while you’re laying in a hospital bed.

You’ve always been notorious for getting easily bruised, but breaking a bone is a first. Especially when it happens in the public eye.

You were only trying to make a cute, aesthetic TikTok showcasing your first race weekend as Oscar’s official girlfriend when you tripped and fractured your ankle in front of half the McLaren team. Not to mention the throng of fans mere feet away.

The two of you didn’t start dating until half a year after his drunken confession, and when you first started going out you had to be very discreet so fans didn’t expose the both of you before either of you were ready. Most of your dates ended up being at your aunt and uncle’s, which had become your home too once you got a job and started really getting yourself together after your breakup. He flew out to see you all the time, and as soon as he suggested that you come with him to the race of the season, you jumped on the opportunity. You didn’t think you’d ever go to a race again, but here you were. You were both happy, and you were both ready.

And now you’re fuming, mentally cursing yourself as you look down at your boot-covered ankle that has now effectively ruined your entire weekend.

Oscar comes rushing into the room, and you hold up a hand.

“Don’t tell me. Do not even tell me.” You shake your head. “Just tell me if it’s somewhat safe to go online or if I should just throw my phone out.”

“What?”

“I know people are talking about it. Oh, no.” Your eyes widen. “No, no. I’ve become a public embarrassment for you. I knew it. It only took me a few hours.” You cover your face with your hands. “Oh, my God… I am so sorry.”

“Again, what?” He asks, prying your hands away. “Baby, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, aside from that,” you gesture to the boot, glaring at it before your eyes shoot back up to him. “Wait a second, how did quali go? Did you do your media stuff already?”

“I’m starting P5. I came here right after, no media.” He rushes out, pulling up a chair so he can sit right next to you and hold your hand. “They’re letting you go, right?”

“Yeah, just have to do some paperwork and get a prescription– why didn’t you go to the media?”

“Because they told me you got hurt? And you needed to be hospitalized?” He says, like it’s obvious.

“Oz, you get fined for that!” You exclaim. “Oh, no, this is so bad! First I embarrass you– no, not just you, probably the entire team, and now you’re here and not there and you’re going to get in trouble… fuck, what if you get fired?!”

“Baby, baby,” Oscar laughs, grabbing both of your hands now. “I’ll get fined, but I’m not gonna get fired just because I skipped media one time. Zak was fine with it, if that makes you feel better.”

You’re still worried, and he can see it in your eyes.

“What’s got you so worked up about this?” He asks softly.

“I just… don’t want to be a risk towards your career.” You say, feeling ashamed that you can still hear Pato’s words from the day he broke up with you. Oscar knows immediately.

“Oh, honey,” he sighs, leaning in and kissing you on the lips, and then your nose. “None of this means anything if I don’t have you.”

You’re still taking it slow, but this is the closest either of you have come to saying “I love you” without saying it, so you pull your hands from his and cup his cheeks to pull him into another kiss.

“Oscar Piastri, you are my whole world.”

Ten minutes later, Lando comes bursting into the room with such aggression that he almost faceplants, and he makes so much noise that a nurse runs into the room looking highly concerned.

So, you laugh, and you forget about it, and you do it with Oscar at your side, where you know he’ll stay for the rest of your lives.

note: this was a bitch to write. also i was gonna make a layout for this but i really wanted to post it tonight so it is sans layout and was edited like a half hour before it’s scheduled to post. all that being said, i hope u enjoyed!!

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever

#request #full fic #op81 week #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fluff #op81 x reader #op81 x you #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

[lyomeii]

the cute barista from the local cafe is my type

☆ SYNOPSIS: with the rumors of a cute barista going on around college, you decided to pay a visit there after training alongside your little sister. unfortunately, you never expected to the rumors being actually true.

☆ PAIRING: sung jinwoo x male! reader.

☆ KEYWORDS: (s/n)-> sister’s name

☆A/N: saw a fanart of @wonderingcheese of jinwoo as a barista and I couldn’t not write about it. so take this as a gift while I write the others requests.

“i-i would like a black coffee..”

“good choice, dude.”

The rumors around college are wrong. The barista of the local cafe isn’t cute, he is extremely handsome. His grey eyes matching with his black hair is a perfect match to someone so muscular like him. And his sharp facial features give the mysterious vibes that everyone is taking about.

At first, you didn’t want to come to this cafe. Not with the responsibility of being both the student council president and also taking care of your nine years old sister while parents are out of town. However, with the rumors going on and the fact that [s/n] wanted to come here changed your whole day schedule.

“And I would like something sweetie! Like a cheesecake!” your little sister barely reach the countertops to order. “A glass of green tea too, ah, mrs. sung.”

Her spark eyes read the name tag on the black haired man. With her arms behind her back and the tiny blush on the little girl’s, it’s clear. [s/n], your little sister, just gained another of those crushes she has. At least, this time it’s a real guy, not fictional.

The barista, now knows as sung jinwoo, smiles at you and [s/n]. “It will be in cash?”

“Y-yeah.” you take a few banknotes and payed for the order while trying your very best (and failing) to avoid his grey eyes. “Can you bring to us at the table?”

Sung Jinwoo nodded and gave you the change. The brief moment your hand touched his, you felt something off about him. Maybe it’s the air conditioner or the fact there is no one else in the cafe with the exception for the three of us, but…You feel many eyes watching your back.

[s/n] choose to sit close to the window, where she can take a great view of the bright sun outside which shiny the cafe’s inside. Even though, she is only a child and quite sheltered due to her weak health, she isn’t stupid or naive about her older brother.

“You like him, don’t you?” she whispered. “I saw the way you look at him, so you can keep him.”

Her words made your face blush entirely. You avoid look at her and stare at Sung Jinwoo, only to the barista smiles back at you, making you blush even more.

“Why you think that?” you asked her, trying to pretend her question isn’t bothering you at all.

The little girl giggle, enjoying how embarrassed you are with her words. [s/n] isn’t waste any second on seeing you like this, “You always act like an idiot whatever you see someone good looking around.” she explained. “Good thing you aren’t drooling this time.”

You give her a death stare. For a nine years old, she has the guts to speak like that to her old brother, the very same one who brought her to this cafe, because she asked it. As the older brother, you are holding yourself to not leave her alone in this cafe.

“Whatever.” you roll your eyes. “Tell anyone about it and I won’t let you eat ice cream before dinner.”

With the threatening, the little girl didn’t speak any more words til Sung Jinwoo brought the order to the table, when she shyly thanked him for her drink and her cheesecake.

He smiled to the little girl and let her hair, before turning his grey eyes into your [e/c] ones. When he handed your black coffee, Sung Jinwoo smirked and whispered to you:

“Call me.” he left after saying that.

His words made you freeze immediately. Did he asked you out? This has to be a dream, yet the phone number write in the coffee cup made you think better. Who would guess that you would be the lucky one to get the barista’s number? The sweet moment of such realization wasn’t even broken down by [s/n], she decided to stay quiet and let you enjoy the moment.

—

Behind the counter, Sung Jinwoo clean the utensils as he fail to ignore his shadows gossiping about what he just did. The tiny blush on his cheek make things better.

“The monarch asked him out!”

“Finally! Our king will be together with him again!”

“This time, our monarch was the one who took the first step!”

The shadows keep talking with each other as Jinwoo took a look at [name] and his little sister, both of them are talking and smiling to each other, sometimes the [h/c] haired boy would catch a glimpse at the barista.

Jinwoo giggle to himself as he finish putting away his utensils. With the cafe almost empty, he took a seat behind the counter and began staring at [name] with his grey eyes become softer while the monarch remembers the sweet memories they both shared in the prior timeline.

He hopes to be with you again in this life.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#sung jinwoo imagine #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jin woo imagine #solo leveling #solo leveling imagine #solo leveling x reader #yandere sung jin woo #yandere solo leveling #male reader #sung jin woo x male reader #male x male #yandere imagine #yandere manhwa #manhwa x reader #yandere x male reader

[shuamorollss]

Café Amnesia — l.sm x f!reader

— When your insane crush on Lee Seokmin hits a curb when he yells out the wrong name for your order whilst having your name written perfectly fine on your cup.

How the hell was he able to fuck your name up so badly?

On purpose? Obviously. Why? You simply don't know.

romcom, mutual pining, cafe au with a pinch of univ, strangers2friends2lovers warnings/notes— They're both whipped for each other(Seokmin mostly), there's a whole segment of reader suffering from period cramps, uhmm I'll add more :> 1.7k wc TEASER . Estimated full wc: 10k-12k + reblogs are greatly appreciated!

tags— @jangwonie @jungwonize @luhvlyuna @w3bqrl @ineedaherosavemeenow @leaderwon @writingmeraki

"Girl, take your chance. He's right there taking orders!" Im Nayeon encouraged as the both of you took a step inside the bittersweet aromatic premises.

Oh yes, this very Café, not only were you a regular customer here, you were also known by your friends to be limping hearts for someone around these ambient walls.

Strangers might say, Oh, this person must really love the coffee here.

Although your friends would definitely say, Oh, he just loves the coffee made by brew. A code name your friends have made to pertain to him.

The very ‘brew’ on the counter, taking orders with his usual sweet smile.

Lee Seokmin.

Oh that man, how could you ever describe him?

Seokmin’s a family friend, you usually see him outside Café territory. Even visiting your home multiple times just to have a chat with your family. Crazy how a guy so cute and so close to your age is more talkative with the likes of your aunts and uncles.

You have always noticed his presence even before he started working in your favorite Café, though you only developed ominous worries by the time he started working there.

There was something about his mere presence that irks you a certain way, never in a bad way, quite unsure in a good way.

How would he have this effect on you so suddenly?

It doesn't make sense.

You only view him discerningly from your balcony as he laughs with your mom at the gate. He’s a peculiar guy, who only visits your home to greet anyone but the people his age.

You didn't care about it, you didn't even ponder any further with his visits, you weren't as much bothered with his bond with your relatives… So why do you feel the opposite of the things just mentioned now?

"Uhm, Y/N?" a voice echoed, shaking you through your thoughts.

…

"Huh? "

You blinked out of your rainbow towered thoughts, checking the very man standing in front of you with an intense gaze.

Everything felt sudden, you were just giggling with Nayeon earlier at the back of the line and now you're… here.

"Your order please?" He repeats, raising his brow as his eyes fixed on you, patiently waiting for your response.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn't take a look at his face for longer than 2 seconds. You didn't want to become a blushing, stuttering mess in front of him, you had to erase such humiliation as this has probably happened to many times within his view.

You take a good look at the menu for a short while, subtly attempting to compose yourself. Then back to looking into his eyes with a determined smile.

"Ah— Uhm… Two iced caffe latte please." you spoke out, you eyes averting away after you realized you might be looking at him for a bit too long.

"Size?" He questioned.

"Both grande."

“Alright, name?” He asks, leaving you slightly dumber and might be dumbest since you were so so sure he had mentioned your name before, the name you own, the name he lets out to escape you from the unrealistic wonders of your mind.

Well, you guess he had to do it for the professional setting.

“Y/N.” You answered with a warm smile.

He nodded, starting to scribble your name on both cups.

You stared at him for a brief second before darting your eyes out of his figure again. It was an awkward, unnecessary feat you have, however you feel a pinch of guilt for staring at him for too long… You didn't think you would have a chance anyway, or would even notice your gaze fixated on him for an uncomfortable amount of time.

You were great with eye contact, you swore that to life.

Now it’s just different in front of him.

The transaction ended smoothly, thankfully, he gave out your remaining change and you turned around leaving with a wide grin that seemed stuck on your face for the next few minutes.

Nayeon notices your change of demeanor, mirroring your subtle excitement as your footsteps approach her figure.

“So, how did it go?!” She slowly squealed, her bunny teeth entirely evident as her emotions seemed to be ecstatic at yours.

“It went good,” You answer with the same wide grin. “It went with the usual order but this time, he asked for my name.”

Nayeon’s smile immediately falters at your answer, her reaction unsatisfied.

“Y/N, that's… he does that to everyone, it’s his job.” She deadpans.

“No no no, I mean. I was like— thinking about something you know?— I was in deep thought, and then Seok— I mean him, Brew, called me by my name and that took me out of my trance,” You paused, earning back your composure. “Then all of a sudden, he just asks me for my name when he was about to write it on the cup? Like, isn't that weird?! He called me before, with the perfect pronunciation of my name, and then asks about it afterwards?”

Nayeon’s reaction did make any sort of change, yet here you are, at the verge of squealing at the half-assed interaction she had ever heard.

Though, to be fair, she had heard more shit stains than this.

“Darling, Y/N, I'm sorry, but, you just have to get better than that..?” Her tone rose unsurely, you could tell she wasn't atoned with the happening, well, it wasn't supposed to be squealed about. You couldn't admit it to her but, it was indeed a boring interaction.

As much as you were extremely down bad for the man, you couldn't act upon it. Why would you? He’s so out of your reach. He wouldn't even look at you in the eyes, never even greeted you when you were at home, and not even bothered to have your parents introduce him to you.

So why would you try and befriend him if the hints are obviously at plain sight that your parents don't want him for you.

Gahh?! What is wrong with me?! you argue along with your conscience. This case seriously needs to be studied for the reason that this regression did not go unnoticed by you. You had a chance to talk to him before but now it just seems too far of a run to be able to reach.

As you and Nayeon remain seated, patiently waiting for your order while she voices out her stress about the upcoming midterm exams, a certain voice echoes throughout the area.

A name kept being called.

Twice, thrice, you don't even know how to word it out the fourth time and so on.

It was embarrassing how this man, Seokmin, was honking a name no one responds to in such a quiet auranescent place. Almost everyone in the Café gave their shares of baffled looks at Seokmin’s way, you gave your shares of it also, until Seokmin’s gaze points at you.

The drink on his hands reached out to your direction, mouthing the words to what seems to be “you.”

Nayeon catches onto this quickly and nudges you out of your seat, so you could reach the drinks on what you assumed to be yours and Nayeon’s, which in fact right now, you were still unsure of.

You make your way awkwardly towards the man, your eyes circling around the Café, releasing a breath of relief at the realization that the customers had gone back to their personal businesses, although the embarrassing flush still creeps into you as you step closer and closer to the counter.

“You, yes you.” Seokmin lets out with a sigh of relief you swore you just did a few seconds back.

“Here's your order, I’ve been calling out for you for 4 years.” He jokes, a bit weak but it was tolerable. He’s handing the two lattes you ordered, still dumbfounded at the fact this was your order.

But he said your name wrong

extremely wrong. unpleasantly wrong. absolutely wrong.

It wasn't even close to your name at all— it's just wrong.

You never felt so embarrassingly offended in your life.

The way he says that too casually, audaciously loud, couldn't even set you off to the right track. You still think he's getting the wrong person to give this order to.

But it was the correct order, the one you recited to him.

He knew you, that's for sure, but how— wha?—

“Oh, thanks.” You say dryly, grabbing your order and walking away with a forced smile. Not even bothering to correct him, just because.

You examine the drink, still unsure if this was actually what you ordered (Which it really is), then turning it to the other side of the cup to read your name,

perfectly spelled.

Which bombards your thoughts with even more questions.

How was he able to fuck your name up so badly?

On purpose? Obviously. Why? You simply don't know.

You went back to the gracious face from Nayeon holding her laugh.

“Well, that's what I call an interaction.” She welled, leaning back onto her seat with a squeaky laugh.

You were quite embarrassed by the whole situation, yet a gush of butterflies lingered in your stomach shooting to the realization that Seokmin had joked with you.

It was unusual, but you’d be content with it at best.

Nayeon repeats the name Seokmin kept calling out a few minutes back, which somehow became unbearable coming from her.

You slide her drink with a clear frown, aggressively sitting on your seat without laying a single look at your friend.

“Oh come on, Y/N, you know I'm just kidding..— woah.” Her eyes widened as her eyes lays at the name spelt on her drink. You could tell the element of surprise creeping up into her whole being as she tries to piece things together.

“Y/N, your name is spelled correctly here?”

You roll your eyes, “Wow, I didn't even notice.” You reply with evidently toned grouchiness.

She gives you the same wide eyes yet the edges of her lips begin to perk up.

You know where she's getting at.

“Y/N! Do you know what this means?!”

You lock your gaze at her, waiting to continue her words.

“He yelled and butchered your name on purpose!” She says ecstatically.

Yeah, you have already established that.

© shuamorollss. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

#k-labels #seokmin x reader #dk x reader #lee seokmin x reader #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #seokmin fluff #lee seokmin fluff #seventeen fluff #svt x reader #svt #seventeen #lee seokmin #dokyeom #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom x reader dluff

[358jours]

Yanqing x GN!Reader⎢But I’m so ‘eepy

Word Count⎢1300

Genre/Tags⎢SFW, fluff, Reader is a big introvert and is sleep deprived, shopping dates, PDA, written and posted before game launch⎢Crossposted on AO3

You stifle another yawn as Yanqing drags you around. You’re holding hands, fingers laced together. He walks ahead of you, loud joy in his steps. He’s almost always sporting a smile in public, but the happiness radiating off of him right now is something else. He forced you out of your room today, and though you love his presence, your social battery can only last so long. At this point, you’re practically dead weight he’s carrying on his own.

Yanqing is an energetic young man, extroverted, optimistic, though perhaps a bit naive. He enjoys anything that has to do with swords the most such as taking care of them, training, competitions. He’s also a big spender on his hobbies, always ending up begging his father –or even you– to finance his basic needs. Many people are aware of who he is due to all that, and also the fact he’s the lieutenant. 

You are the opposite. An introverted soul, sleep deprived, fond of staying inside. You tend to stay up far too late into the night, kept up by good video games, and bad decisions. “I can still play, like, fifteen minutes more”, cue three am beeping on your alarm clock after hours passed unnoticed. You could count on one hand those aware of who you are too. First General Jing Yuan, the leader of the Luofu himself, then an unnamed accountant, whose existence only matters for a single reason (your pay), and Yanqing himself. Perhaps Marshal Hua might count as well as she knows about everything, but you never met her personally. 

Yanqing is the only person able to drag you out of your room for more than an hour, and the only person able to drag you out outside at all. Perhaps ‘drag you out’ is too strong a word as you always consent to going out with him, but your mood is a bit sour from your dead social battery and the fatigue in your body. As far as you’re aware, everyone on the Luofu market street has dubbed you “Yanqing’s sleepy partner” (You can’t really blame them, it would be quite awkward to ask “so what’s your name?” while your self-proclaimed knight in shining armor is right by your side). You have a very “cat and dog” personality contrast that makes people laugh, opposites attract or so they say. 

.

Yanqing pulls you forward amidst the crowd. “Finally, we’ve arrived at the Artisanship Commission!”

You take a moment to take in the sight. The sun is high, barely two in the afternoon, and illuminates the red city radiantly, this shop as well. The view is beautiful, yes, but honestly your mind is so jaded, it’s hard to grasp reality. Hopefully this is the last stop for today, Aeons know you won’t survive if you don’t get your afternoon nap. You hear Yanqing's voice and– oh he’s talking to a vendor, nevermind. They seem to know each other, by the way they laugh at least. 

You look over to the swords on display. They’re all impressive, a vast range of different colors and sizes. The one you like best is mainly clear blue and has a yin-yang on its guard, it looks pretty though perhaps a bit heavy for Yanqing? The second one is thinner, it’s mainly black with white and blue accents. It would look good in his hands. The one beside it is ew full-gold yellow, and though the color is less than attractive, the details forged on it are stunning. 

You don’t notice the vendor handing Yanqing a sword. He lifts the hand you’re holding, and looks at you curiously. You let go sheepishly to which he only smiles. The vendor giggles. Ah, embarrassing. 

You space out once more while Yanqing listens with grand attention to the explanations about the ki-controlled attacks the sword can perform. You’re kind of staring at him as he tests the sword through different movements, touching the blade with the tip of his finger. It looks alright, but the swords on display are prettier. He hands it back, the vendor leaves for a moment, and comes back with another. The same happens, and again, and again, and you feel your legs more and more. Trying not to yawn becomes harder and harder.

Your interest is peaked when the vendor brings him the sword with the yin-yang guard. They talk about the features again, he moves it a bit. He hums, does bigger movements, it seems he likes this one too. You rest your head against his shoulder “I like this one.” 

He shifts his head slightly. “Really?” 

“Yeah. It’s pretty and it goes well with your outfit. You should take a dark gray scabbard to go with it.” 

Yanqing hums. He looks at the sword one last time before handing it back. “Alright, I’ll take two, and two dark gray scabbards.” 

The vendor looks very surprised, but happily obliges. They shuffle, occupied in preparing his purchases. Your partner sports a smile on his face, his happiness showing through his proud stance. You don’t fight your yawn this time, and close your eyes. You open them soon after at the sound of a pathetic whine and your name however. Yanqing’s face is contorted in dread. You’re a bit confused about what is wrong, your mind foggy— oh. 

.

His wallet is completely empty. 

You laugh loudly, which makes him even more embarrassed. “Hey, come on! How am I supposed to pay now? And I already said I was taking it home too…” But it only worsens your fit. You grip onto his arm to not fall. The vendor comes back, and Yanqing hastily hides the hollow pouch. He looks at the vendor worriedly as you continue laughing against him. 

“You two are adorable together. Mind repeating your joke?” The vendor smiles at you both. 

“Yeah, thank you. Uh.” Yanqing let out an embarrassed laugh as he scratched the back of his neck. 

You recover enough to hand your credit card to the vendor. “He forgot his money at home.” Yanqing stutters as the vendor snorts. You’re handed back your card, and your partner receives his new swords. He carries them with his left arm while his right hand is occupied, as he refuses not to hold hands with you whenever you are out. 

You walk together for a bit, saying nothing. He’s not dragging you everywhere like before anymore, thankfully. The sun is still high, but at least forty minutes have passed, if not more. Yanqing is the first to break the silence, “You should name it, the sword. But it’s important so you should think deeply about it, yeah?” 

You hum, your mind occupied by other priorities. You pull him in a direction. “Nap time.” 

“What?!” He’s taken aback, clearly confused and in shock. “No way I’ll let you name it that!”

You pull him again and— push him to sit on a bench? He’s still lost, looking at you for clarification. He’s by the far side while you go sit in the middle. He’s about to ask more when you suddenly lay down. Your head goes to rest on his lap. “Nap time, wake me up in one hour or if it starts raining.” 

Yanqing opens his mouth and closes it, still confused although now flustered. “Really? Right here, right now? I thought you disliked being in public.”

You hum a bit, shifting, making yourself comfortable on the hard bench. It would take longer than one hour before getting sunburned right? So this is probably fine. Between the sun high in the sky, the soft breeze, and the comfort of Yanqing, you don’t think you’ll have much trouble resting in public. “Bed is too far, and I’m so ‘eepy.”

He huffs, although there’s a smile on his face. “Alright.” 

#yanqing x reader #HSR Yanqing x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #star rail x reader #honkai x reader #x reader #nekonohanashi

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Let's go!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Two days before Christmas. The store is left in tatters. Shelves strewn with sparse lefftovers and aisles hastily paced by those who left their shopping a bit too late. The frantic shoppers searching for a diamond among the sand grains of untouched product.

You work at arranging the remnants of the season’s beauty advent calendars on a table draped in a bright red cloth. There’s a large tag in a metal stand that marks them as ten percent off. On the other side of the holidays, they will drop to a full eighty percent off. You always believed giftcards were a better prize, not that you got many gifts.

That year, Luanne gave you a new journal and a specialty hot chocolate bomb in the department’s secret santa. You go Michelle and gifted her a copy of your favourite novel and some nail polishes. That is the extent of your shopping and gift exchanges. Except for your puppy, Ernie, who will get a bone and one of those special gourmet dog meals.

You finish your arrangement and step back, admiring your work. It’s close to close and so close to the end of the race that the shop isn’t as busy as usual. The only customers you do see are in a rush and horribly disappointed when that very specific thing isn’t in stock.

“Excuse me,” you’re drawn around the deep voice. A man strolls up the center aisle of the beauty section, the tails of his coat flicking behind him, “hi,” he uses your name as he approaches, “I’m so sorry to bother you again but can you point me to, erm,” he looks down at his phone, “a ring light?”

You hesitate. He seems to know you and you admit, he looks familiar. You’re at that point where the faces all blur together. Your one innate flaw is that you really don’t have a good memory for that, bt you definitely recognise his voice.

“Hello, sir,” you fall short of his name. You want to say Alan but you also don’t want to be wrong. “The ring lights are actually with the cellphone.” You gesture back at electronics, “I know it makes more sense to put them with cameras.”

“Ah, oh, thanks,” he nods but doesn’t move to find his quarry, he lowers his phone, “how’s your holiday going? Thing’s slowing down,” he looks around and you can’t help but do the same.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, most people are all done,” you shrug.

“Ha, wish I could say the same,” he sighs, “I thought we were done but the wife just sent me on a wild goose chase.”

“Hm, oh, well, I’m not very busy, did you need help finding anything else?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my manager’s done for the day so doesn’t really matter if I leave my zone,” you say, “kinda boring around here.”

“You’re too sweet,” he smiles, his blue eyes deep and swirling, “and that sweater is adorable.”

You look down at your dark blue sweater with the white crochet peter pan collar. You wiggle your shoulders and grin back at him, thanking him. You know he bought some perfume for his wife but you’re still blanking on his name.

“Here’s my list,” he tilts his phone towards you and looks down, shifting closer to you as he shows you a text bubble.

“Oh my, right. I’m not sure we’ll have everything,” you teethe your lip as you go through the items, “but we’ll see.”

A message pops up over the top and you try not to read, putting your head up as you try to act like you didn’t see it. It’s not that you meant to decipher the words but your brain quickly skimmed that ‘tomorrow night?’ Not much but just feels a bit personal.

“Alright, we’ll go to electronics first, then work our way forward,” you suggest.

“Good idea,” he agrees.

You set off and he follows at just a step. You have to remember to slow down as often you’re so determined you find yourself leaving your customers far behind you. You bring him to the mobile accessories and point to the ring lights.

He considers them and rubs his chin. He points between two; “what’s the difference?”

“Oh, this one comes with a tripod extension and this one is a full kit with a mic,” you point from one to the other.

“What do you think is better for, uh, streaming?” He sounds unsure of that last word.

“I think that kit would have more to it, especially if whoever it’s for is just starting out. But I’m don’t know too much about these things.”

“I’ll take the kit,” he scoops it off the shelf, “the kid can never have enough.”

“Oh? You have kids?”

“One,” he sounds less than excited, “teenager now so he really can’t stand me.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” he forces away the shadow across his features, “you know how they can be. What about you? You going to see your parents? Spending the day with someone special?”

“Um, just Ernie,” you answer, “my puppy.”

“Cute,” he remarks, “are you guys open tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, yeah, ‘til five,” you try to remember the next thing on his list. 

He seems less concerned with the items than before, instead turn to examine a pop socket, “you have to work on Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah, closing, but I don’t mind.”

“What’s this?” He holds up a pop socket.

“It goes on your phone,” you pull out your phone and show him your daisy one, “see?” You hook your fingers around it, “it’s a grip to help you hold on.”

“Ah, makes sense,” he turns the thin package over, “kid’s always breaking his screen…”

You wait patiently as he makes up the mind to add the grip to his haul.

“What’s next?” You prompt as gently as you can.

“Oh, uh,” he looks at his phone, “video games…” he squints, “V-bucks?”

“Ah, yes, that would be a gift card,” you say, “I can show you the rack.”

He lets you lead him to the large rack of subscription cards. You point out the various currency amounts available and he rubs his brow. His forehead lines as you see the stress needling in his cheek. He’s struck with the late shopper syndrome. He’s start to feel the crush of time.

“So, just your dog?” He wonders as he picks up a $75 card.

“Yeah,” you answer softly.

“No boyfriend? Siblings?”

“Just me,” you assure him, “I don’t mind. I get to choose the dessert!”

He chuckles, “that’s a good way to look at it. Did you buy yourself something special?”

“Not really, I’ve been saving for a vacation so I put most of my overtime into that,” you explain. “You having a big dinner?”

“Last minute change, wife’s parents want to host. Had to figure out travel plans.” He looks at the giftcards again and your eyes fall to the large back curled up in his arm and the card and phone grip balanced between his fingers. He slides free a Netflix card and reads the fine print.

“Do you want a basket, sir?” You offer.

“Oh, well, sure,” he accepts as he looks down, “that’s very considerate.”

“Don’t want you to drop anything,” you smile and turn on your heel.

You go to the stack of rolling baskets beside the electronics desk. Tyler doesn’t acknowledge you as he sorts through game shells to put back on the shelf. You pull the basket behind you, rattling on its wheels as you approach the shopper by the gift cards.

“Here,” you veer it around towards him.

He bends to lower the ringlight inside and drops the smaller items into next to it; he adds the Netflix subscription along with it and holds onto the Kindle card in his hand.

“You got any of these around?” He holds up the card, “the reader?”

“Hmm, we should,” you rub your neck, “I suppose if we didn’t, you can get a tablet and download the app.”

“I guess,” he nods, “can you check?”

“Of course, sir.”

You turn away and call over your headset. Regan tells you there’s a kindle up in return they can sell. You ask them to put it aside.

“There’s one left at checkout. They’re going to have it waiting for you,” you announce proudly.

“That’s great. You like to read?” He asks.

“Oh, sure, my one vice is my book addiction,” you giggle, “how about you?”

“Well, I don’t get much of a chance with work. I’m usually burnt out from all the legal documents,” he drones grimly, “then the kid has extracurriculars or there’s a PTA meeting or the wife needs something done.”

“Sounds busy,” you say empathetically, “I hope you get some time to relax this holiday.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “I almost envy you. I’m sure your dog’s good company.”

“He’s so sweet,” you can’t help but beam at the mention of your boy.

“Big cuddler?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah,” the question is a bit unexpected, “you like dogs?”

“Never really had one. Don’t need the extra work,” he says, “but I don’t mind them.”

“That’s fair. He can be a bit needy.”

He flinches and looks down at his hand. His screen flashes and he gives an apologetic look as he raises his palm, “I’m so sorry. I need to take this.”

“Take your time, sir, I’ll wander,” you point over your shoulder with your thumb.

He mouths a thanks before he answers, “Barber.”

You back up and turn to distract yourself with the shelf of controllers and switch cases. His deep voice carries but you focus on the Sinatra carol playing overhead to drown him out. Still you can’t help but catch a few words.

“Five, yeah…no, she won’t…it’s fine…” He’s quiet for a moment before he raises his voice, “figure it out.”

His stern tone sends a chill through you. It’s a sharp contrast to his previously friendly demeanour. Well, he mentioned he’s a lawyer, you assume he has a lawyer voice, akin to your customer service one.

“Sorry,” he comes back to you, “my wife…” he takes a breath, “you don’t happen to sell wine here?”

You smile. The way he answered, it didn’t sound very affectionate but maybe he hadn’t expected his wife.

“No, sorry, sir.”

“Kidding,” he chuckles, “well, I guess I should get my butt in gear,” he flicks through his phone, “um, I assume toiletries? Face masks?”

“Oh, that’s near me,” you point back towards beauty, “there’s a special for the sheet masks.”

“Great,” he grabs the extended handle of the basket, “thanks so much for this. I’m so lost.”

“That’s fine,” you go ahead of him, “it’s the job.”

🎀

You groan as you put the last empty bin in the stack. You stand and rub your shoulders, traps sore from all the lifting and moving. The night crew will set up for the day after Christmas but in the last hour of work, you and the few others in the store scrambled to get the old displays torn down.

Luanne walks with you to the employee break room. She’s in more of a hurry as she has her three children waiting for her at their grandparents. She goes ahead of you and punches out as you wait and stretch out your arms.

“Have a good Christmas,” she says breathily as she opens her locker and pulls out her purse and jacket, folding the latter over her arm, “I’ll see you after. You’re opening, right?”

“Sure thing,” you say as you punch in your employee number. “Merry Christmas.”

“Give Ernie some pets for me,” she trills as she goes to the door. “Thanks again. You saved my ass today.”

“No problem, “ you shake your head, “Christmas Eve brings out the best.”

“Does it ever. Bye, sweetie,” she waves over her shoulder as he sweeps through the door.

You go to your locket and take out your fluffy pink sherpa coat and purse. You loop your scarf around your neck and slip your earmuffs around your head. You sit to pull on your boots and stand with an ache in your calves. You feel the fatigue finally setting in. It’s not over yet; one day off and you’re right back to the furor.

You yawn as you leave the breakroom and drag your feet across the store. You take out your phone as you pop your earbuds in and choose your holiday mix. You wave goodbye to a few other stragglers and go out the front door, Spencer locking it behind you.

It’s bitterly cold out. You’re surprised by the fresh fall of snow swirling in the air. It gives an extra sparkle to the time of year.

You scroll through your phone. The buses are on holiday hours already. The next one is in an hour. Great. You can just walk, at least until you get to the next stop. More buses stop there and you can get at least ten minutes within your building.

You trod along, kicking through the powder of snow as headlights gleam ahead of you. You walk along the narrow walk beside the hotel on the other side of the intersection and a pair of flashing tail lights blink ahead of you. A dark figure stands beside the white SUV but you can’t make out much more than their silhouette.

You keep going, peeking up curiously as you near. The boot of the car pops up and the stranded driver searches. As you pass, you trip over an unseen shape, the metal clank painfully against your toe. You look down at the small foot jack.

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” the man stands straight and turns to you, “I didn’t see you coming. I was just grabbing the iron–”

“That’s okay,” you pick out your earbuds, “I wasn’t looking.”

“Wait,” he stops short and points a gloved finger in your direction, “it’s you. You work at the store just down the way, right?”

You know the man. He’s the one who was in the store just yesterday. There’s a flutter in your chest at the coincidence of your encounter. It happens, especially in the shopping district. Half the city at least passes through her during the holidays.

“Yeah, uh, that’s me. You finish your shopping?”

“Just about,” he tuts and shakes his head, “blew a tire. So, happy holidays to me.”

“I’m so sorry,” you look down at the snowy walk.

“Mhmm,” he grumbles, “all this snow, I can’t get the jack to work either.”

“Dang, unfortunately, I’m not help. I don’t know much about cars.”

“That’s fine, I called roadside assistance but they’re taking their damn time,” he checks his watch.

“Oh…” you utter.

“Don’t let me rain on your holiday, honey,” he says, “your toe okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you look down.

“Wait, are you walking home?” He asks.

You nod.

“Wish I could offer you a ride. This weather’s only getting worse,” he bemoans. He slips his hand into his jacket and pulls out his phone, “they should be here shortly so if–”

A set of headlights pull onto the apron and roll towards you. You look over as the man beside you does the same. You stand, somewhat dumbfounded at the unexpected run-in. 

“That’s them,” he declares, “hey, guys.”

He waves as the white van pulls up. You were expecting a tow truck. Oh, well. Not your problem.

“Great, I guess I should get going,” you excuse yourself, “have a happy holi–”

As you step back, your heel catches on something. You don’t realise until your plummeting onto your ass that the man stuck his leg out behind you. You hit the ground with an oomph, barely missing the metal jack half-buried in the snow.

You hear the van door sliding open and a clatter of heavy treads. You can barely catch your breath as the world moves fast around you. The man bends over you as another rushes over, grabbing you off the ground as the two vehicles block out the street from view.

“Be nice,” the first man warns as your arms are seized. “Don’t hurt her.”

You suck in a deep breath. What is happening? You go to let out the shriek as you’re struck by the situation. This can’t be real but you’re being half-carried towards an open vehicle. A hand comes up and stifles your scream, smothering you as you’re yanked harshly forward.

“Careful,” the man girds again.

“Shut the fuck up,” the other grits and pulls you away from the other, spinning you around as he hooks an arm around your neck and covers your mouth, forcing you towards the van. He bends backwards, lifting your feet as you kick and squirm.

“Honey, calm down,” the friendly customer coaxes, “it’s okay.”

You don’t understand. Why are they doing this? Why you?

The man’s hand slips as you grab at his arms and your teeth come over the vee between thumb and index. You bite down and he yowls. Even through his leather glove, you give him a viscous pinch.

“Fuck!” He tosses you forward so your knees hit the side of the van and fall half-inside.

“Hurry the fuck up,” another voice calls from inside the van.

“Trying,” the second man snarls as you stand and let out a shrill note, only for a second before you’re caught from behind and muted again. This time the leather glove seals over your nose. “Fucking bitch.” 

You’re lifted into the van, writhing and kicking as the door slides shut from the outside. You’re pinned on the floor in the seatless rear of the vehicle. You whimper as your eyes glisten with a sudden spring of tears. 

That question rings in your head again; why you? You have no one to look for you, no one to care. It’s only you against them.

#andy barber #lloyd hansen #ransom drysdale #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hasnen #dark!ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #andy barber x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #the gray man #defending jacob #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #multicharacter #multifandom #three for one #au

[sugarnspice630]

Fancall Fiasco - Hongjoong

"Fan service my ass! Guess I’m going to have to remind you exactly who you belong to, hm?"

•pairing: meandom!nonidol!hongjoong x idol!fem!reader

•word count: 4k

•tags: reader has an idol stage name that they go by, established relationship, mdni, smut, dirty filthy pure smut, possesive and MEAN hongjoong, degradation, name calling (whore, slut, cheater, etc), hair pulling, oral (m&f receiving), deep throating, belt restraints, spanking, slight spitting, edging, overstimulation, biting/marking up (f receiving), slight cnc(?)...did I miss anything? probably

Summary: Being an idol, you have to provide fan service to your loyal followers, however your boyfriend thinks you went a little too far with this one male fan and decides he needs to remind you who you belong to.

A/N: Phew howdy this is FILTHYYYY! Longest fic I've ever written too I think. After my call with Hongjoong, I couldn't stop thinking about if the roles were reversed and he got all jealous and possessive...Definitely need him to treat me this way. Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Your group recently had a comeback, and to promote album sales and meet your amazing fans, you were doing 2-3 fancall events every single day. It was exhausting to see some familiar faces and having to talk to the same person multiple times in one day, but as an idol, you have to put up with that kind of stuff and just do your job.

The outfit your stylist put you in was super edgy and went with the concept for your recent album. It was a little revealing, but you didn’t mind too much cause you felt pretty. A black crop top with a metal o-ring right in the middle of your chest, a hooded top with the shoulders exposed that had grommets and rings down the arms, and connected to this ring on the hoodie top were two belt-like chains that went down your sides and hooked together in the back underneath the hood. Many of the fans you talked to today, mostly men, but occasional female fans, complimented you and said how beautiful you looked today. It was always refreshing getting to talk to the fellow female fans, as it felt more like girlhood than the male fans just trying to get in your pants. Although there was this one fan in particular, that was unbelievably handsome. After the staff member removed the paper from the camera, you were met with a gorgeous man, around the same age as you, you assumed.

“A-ah! H-Hi Hana!” He waved to you and seemed slightly nervous.

“Hi there-!” You quickly glanced down at your note, sitting next to the album you were supposed to sign for the fan. “Felix! So nice to meet you!” You said with a smile and waved with your free hand. You stared back at the fan with sparkling eyes, and your head tilted to the side as he waved back to you.

“I’m so excited to talk to you today…ah sorry, I’m so nervous.” He covered his face with his hands but left his eyes visible so he could stare at you.

"Ahh, don’t be nervous; I’m excited to talk to you too. Actually, you’re very handsome.” You said with a smirk and leaned closer to the camera. You watched as the fan lit up with excitement and heard a tiny gasp come from him.

“Oh- t-thank you so much. Y-you’re very pretty too.”

“Oh am I~? That’s so nice to hear. Thank you so much.” You continued to smile and bat your eyes at the fan, enjoying how flustered you were making him.

“Y-yes, I actually had a question for you, if I can ask.”

“Yes of course!” You took this opportunity to look down at the album, pick your favorite picture from this specific version of the album, and place your signature in the corner, along with a couple hearts for some fan service. The fan asked their question while you were signing.

“I was wondering how you came up with your stage name?” Ah yes, the question many fans ask you because they love to hear the clever response that you came up with.

“Ahh actually, so the number 1 in Korean is "hana,” and it has a lot of importance to me. It’s my favorite number, I was the first person to join our group, and I know I’ll always be the number 1 in your heart.” You took your time saying your response to drag out the time, looking around the room to pretend you were thinking about it, and then at the very end flashed a finger heart and a wink to the fan, to which he melted and covered his face with his hands again.

“Wow…you’re so cool Hana and so pretty.”

“Thank you so much!” You covered your smile with your hand to act all shy and cutesy. As the fans say, the company's rent was due, your fan service today has been insanely good. You heard the familiar sound of the timer going off, meaning the call was coming to an end. “Aww I’m so sorry Felix our time is up.” You said with a pout and brought your hands to a praying motion.

“Aww okay. Bye Hana! Thank you so much!” He waved to you and smiled.

“Bye handsome! Thank you!” You winked one last time as you waved, and the staff covered the camera with paper and ended the call. You made sure the call was done before you let out a sigh of relief and dropped your smile. The staff member that was helping you out for the day just smiled and chuckled the slightest bit.

“You were working hard there.” She said as she grabbed the album from you, placed the sticky note with the fan's order on it, and set it off to the side.

“Ahh yeah, he was cute though! Very sweet boy. It’s fans like that that make me love my job.” You took a couple sips out of the water bottle the staff provided for you and relaxed for a few seconds before the next call started.

–

The events were done for the day, and exhausted was an understatement. You bowed to the event staff and thanked them many times before making your way out of the room and following your manager back to the designated room for your group. You quickly glanced at your phone and saw a message from your boyfriend.

Your blood ran cold. He sounded so serious. What could you have possibly done? I guess you were going to find out when you got back to your apartment. You and Hongjoong had plans to meet up after your schedules today anyway.

–

You got back to your apartment, finally wearing some comfortable clothes. You walked into the front door, took your jacket off, and started to kick your shoes off before shouting out to your boyfriend, who was hiding somewhere. 

“Hongjoong! I’m bac-!” Your words were cut off by Hongjoong pressing you against the wall. His one hand grips onto your shoulder to keep you against the hard surface, and the other hand holds his phone and shoves the screen in your face.

“What the fuck is this?” He said lowly and through gritted teeth. You glanced over at the screen, breathing heavily, and saw a familiar-looking face on his screen. The video was from one of the many fan calls you had today. Specifically the really nice looking one. What was his name? Ah right, Felix.

“I don’t understand…”

“Don't play dumb with me Y/N! You’re practically fucking him through the screen!”

“N-no Hongjoong..what? L-let me see.” You reached up, took the phone from his hand, and read the post the fan had made to yourself.

The attached video had no sound, but subtitles were provided. You reviewed the video and smirked to yourself, watching the fan get all nervous and flustered again at your fan service. That’s exactly all it was. Fan service. You scrolled through some of the comments that had been made on that post by other fans.

Waahhh, omg you’re so lucky!!

SHE IS SO IN LOVE WITH YOU! IMAGINE BEING CALLED HANDSOME BY HANA? GOD YOU’RE SO LUCKY

Ohhh she wants you fr fr

You smirked again and lightly scoffed at the various reactions from your fans. When you looked back up at Hongjoong to hand him his phone back, his arms were crossed, his breathing was deep and heavy, and he stared at you with aggressive eyes.

“B-baby it’s just fan service.”

“Fan service my ass!” He snatched his phone back from your hand and shoved it into his pocket. “Guess I’m going to have to remind you exactly who you belong to, hm?”

“Hongjoong no, you don’t have to do that. I-I know that-.” Your words were cut off again by Hongjoong pushing you back against the wall again and slamming his lips onto yours. The grip he had on your arms was enough to hurt a little bit, and you squirmed at the uncomfortable feeling. “J-Joong.”

“Shut the fuck up cheater, or I’ll shove something in your mouth to make you shut up.” His behavior was so left-field for you, and you didn’t know how to feel. If you wanted to be truly honest, his possessive nature was making your pussy ache and damp.

“I didn’t d-do anything wrong!” 

“Didn’t do anything wrong….listen to yourself!” He yelled slightly and slid his hands down to grab both of your wrists, then slammed them up against the wall. He pressed his body frame against you, so you were completely against the wall. His face is right in your face, leaving no room for personal space. “I fucking own you; you got that? You’re mine, and when I see you flirting and undressing your fans with those seductive eyes of yours..I get a little…pissed off. So now, I have to make sure you haven’t forgotten exactly who you belong to.”

“Hongjoong I-.” Your heart was beating rapidly, and you did not know what else to say or do. He waited for you to try to say another smart remark before he took your hands held above your head, held them in one hand, and pulled you along as he started stomping toward your room. “Stop! What are you doing?”

“Teaching you a fucking lesson.” He threw his arm forward, which resulted in you stumbling forward and dropping down at the edge of the bed. He stepped back and ripped his shirt off over his head and, with one hand, threw it to the side of the room. You were propping yourself up with one arm and leaning back onto the bed as he walked closer to you. He grabbed the bottom of your chin and forced your face to look up at him. Taking a few seconds to look at your face and smile slyly. 

“Are you scared of what I am capable of, Y/N?” You shook your head from side to side in response. “Use your fucking words slut.”

“N-no!” You stuttered out.

“You don’t sound so confident~.”

“I’m not scared of you!” You retaliated, but he just smirked at you. 

“Guess I'll have to make you scared of me then.” Not a moment passed before he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you off the bed, down on your knees, onto the floor in front of him. You winced from the pain as he dragged you down. You tilted your head up to look at him, hoping your expression would fill him with remorse. “Pathetic really. You think looking at me like that will make me forget what you did today? Think again.” As he spoke, his free hand fought with his belt to get it off. He snapped the belt to the side, almost like a whip, and squatted down to be in front of you. You dared not to look at him, but you could feel his eyes piercing into you. You felt his hand release from your hair. He tenderly traced his hands along your arms and brought them together, holding your wrists together again with his hands.

“I don’t want you fucking touching me, so this is how I’ll fix that.” He took the belt and tightened it harshly around your wrists, pulling the belt tought and wrapping it a few times, allowing the end of the belt to stick out as a grip for him to hold onto. He stood back up and pulled your arms up with the belt. Your head rag dolled with your arms being pulled up. At this point, you had given in to him and were ready to accept whatever punishment he was giving you right now. 

Your eyes followed his hand, which was not holding your restraint, and your eyes were led to the zipper on his pants. He pulled the zipper down and shimmed his pants down just barely past his hips, enough for him to be able to whip his cock out. 

“Open up whore.” He demanded, and you found yourself quickly obeying. He raised the arm holding your restraint a little higher before shoving his cock directly into your mouth. Pushing himself all the way in, not allowing you to prepare yourself at all. Your eyes immediately filled with tears, and you tried your best not to gag. Hongjoong had an average-sized cock, but that doesn't mean it was easy for you to take him. You heard Hongjoong groan above you, and you glanced up at him to see the look on his face. His head was tilted back slightly, and his mouth was agape just the slightest bit.

“God I’m gonna fucking ruin you. Gonna fuck this little throat of yours so good it’ll be hard for you to sing at your precious music show tomorrow.” You whimpered at his dirty talk, but also because your voice is an extremely valued asset to your group, and if you can’t perform at your best, it will definitely not go unnoticed. He shoved himself further inside your mouth, and you couldn’t help but gag so hard that you started to cough. You pulled yourself off and back away from him, and you continued coughing until you felt better. Hongjoong scoffed at you.

“Unbelievable.”

“Joongie please…” Your voice is nearly above a whisper, still trying to come back to you after having his dick deep in your throat. Your eyes are now bloodshot and watery, looking at him hoping he’ll feel some sympathy and realize he's going a little too hard on you.

“You should have thought about the consequences before flirting with that fan baby.” He shrugs and dismisses your cry for help. You braced yourself, thinking he was going to shove himself back inside your throat, but to your surprise, he pulled you up by the belt restraint, so you were standing up. He steadied you by placing his free hand on your shoulder and looking at you deep in the eyes. “You’re lucky I actually give a shit about your career. Be thankful I don’t completely ruin your fragile ass.” He tilted his head while talking to you, smirking at the end of his sentence.

“Y-yes, thank you.”

“Shut up. That wasn’t an invitation.” He unexpectedly let go of the belt, and your arms fell down in front of you, hitting the front of your crotch. You whimpered at the impact and felt the blood rush back into your arms. He placed his hand on your shoulder and pushed you, so you fell back onto the bed. Letting out a grunt when your back made contact with the mattress. Hongjoong stepped closer to the bed and gripped onto your sweatpants. 

“I don’t want to hear another sound out of you, got it?” You opened your mouth to agree, but quickly closed it and nodded your head instead. "Finally, you got some sense knocked into you.” He pulled your sweatpants down, and you heard a soft chuckle come out of him. “My my, you’ve made a mess down here already.” You wanted to squirm, but his grip on your legs prevented you from doing so. Your struggle must have said enough because he took two of his fingers and placed them on the wet patch on your underwear. The room was quiet enough that you could hear the squishing sound of your wetness spreading even more, completely soaking your undergarments.

“You like me treating you like this, huh?” He said as he pushed his fingers into you harder. You bit your lip to suppress the whimper that so desperately wanted to come out. His two fingers finding your clit through your underwear and massaging it delicately. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip harder. You arched your back slightly and tilted your head into the bed.

“Look at you getting all needy for me now. Bet you were not thinking about me when talking to that boy toy of yours.” His tone was so condescending. You had really pissed him off, and he was going to make sure you knew and remembered who you belonged to. He removed his fingers from your clothed pussy and pulled them down. Completely removing those and your sweatpants in the process. You felt the cold air of the room blow across your bare area and got cold chills on your body. He harshly gripped your thighs and pulled your legs further apart, completely exposing yourself to him. You felt his warm breath against you as he leaned in closer. He pushes your legs apart a little more, and you whimper at the pain of being overstretched. Hongjoong hears your whimper and slaps the side of your leg with his hand.

“I thought I told you to stay quiet.”

“S-sorry.” You muttered and felt Hongjoong slap your side again, harder than the last time. Next thing you know, he dives his tongue straight into your pussy, licking and sliding his mouth everywhere. His warm tongue collects all of your juices that have recently come out. He swirls your fluids around in his mouth and spits it right back out onto you, licking and lapping it up all over again. His nose is pushing right onto your clit. You so badly want to take your hands and grip the side of his hair, but with your hands tied, you can’t. Your body writhes and squirms underneath him, and with every movement you make, you feel him pushing that side of you back down to keep you secured to the bed. He continues to lick and tongue-fuck you, too enthralled in your pussy to notice all of the soft whimpers and moans you have been letting out. You feel a knot begin to form in your lower stomach, but just as you are about to go over the edge, Hongjoong pulls away from you. You tilt your head down to look at him, breathing heavily and wondering why he stopped. He looks back at you and uses his tongue to lick your excessive fluids that have built up around his lips. Pulling his tongue back in and letting it rest against his teeth as he smirks at you, looking at him with desperation and confusion.

“Oh I’m sorry. Did you really think I was going to let you cum that easily? This is your punishment whore. Nothing good will come out of this, you hear me?” 

You pouted and wiggled your arms to try to prop yourself up. You just wanted to cum so badly and get this punishment over with. Hongjoong takes this time to grab your sides and flip you over onto your stomach. Your legs are still dangling off the edge of the bed, and you feel him spread your legs apart a little bit with his hands and nuzzle himself in between. He glides his hand up your right thigh and caresses your ass cheek.

“Such a pretty ass, but it’ll look even better with my handprints all over it. Wouldn’t you agree?” You wiggled your hips to agree with him. He firmly grips your cheek before pulling his hand away and forcing it back down onto your ass. He watches as the skin, fat, and muscle recoil from the slap. You push your head into the bed to muffle any sounds that might come out of your mouth. Hongjoong not being satisfied with his work yet, lifted his hand up again and smacked your ass harshly for the second time. You started to feel the stinging and burning feeling. Your ass was now a pretty shade of pink, but Hongjoong was still not satisfied. He lifted his hand one more time and put all his effort into slapping your ass again. You heard him grunt as he swung his arm down. Putting all of his force into smacking you. You pushed your hips back, unintentionally asking him for more.

“It’s funny you think I’m going to give you what you want. Really? After what you did today?” Hongjoong massaged your stinging and red cheek as he said this, and you softly moaned at the feeling. Finally being able to feel some comfort after a couple minutes of pain. Hongjoong flips you around again and leans down, placing his arms on both sides of you to support himself. He reaches for the belt restraint and takes it off of you.

“This is not an invitation for you to touch me, got it?”

“Y-yes sir.” You whispered as you nodded, looking him straight in the eyes. He smirks for a second and tosses the belt to the side of the room. He places one arm back at your side while the other hand touches his cock to guide himself into you. Instead of slamming himself inside of you like before, he slowly inserts his dick into you. Your walls swallow him, and you can feel every vein on his cock. He removes his hand from his dick as he goes further in and places it beside you on the other side.

“God dammit you’re so tight.” He growls through gritted teeth. Pushing himself all the way, slowly. You squeeze your eyes shut as he fills you nicely. Happy to finally have his cock inside you after him edging you. Your arms were sprawled out to the side, unsure of where to put them since you can’t put them on Hongjoong like you normally would.

“I’m gonna drill myself so far into you that you’ll still feel me inside you days later. So you can never forget me. Huh? Remember? You’re mine Y/N. You’re my toy to fuck and play with. Think about that the next time you want to whore yourself out to your fans. I bet he couldn’t fuck you like I could. No, he couldn’t. Cause if he even remotely got close to you, he’d be gone in seconds. No one touches you except for me. You got that? Mine…you’re fucking mine!” Hongjoong spouts off, getting increasingly louder and harder with his thrusts. He has fully leaned his body down onto you, so you are chest to chest. His dick keeps drilling inside you, and your head is spinning. His dirty and possessive words go straight to your core.

“Hongjoong-”

"Yeah, fucking say my name. Who’s fucking you this good?”

“Hongjoong!”

“That’s right you slut!” He thrusts himself into you harder and faster. You feel your orgasm building up again. You so desperately want to grab onto his arms and hold onto him as you’re cumming. Hongjoong dives his head into your neck and kisses and nips at your skin, surely leaving little marks on your skin.

“S-stop! Tomorrow…schedule!” You plead, trying to tell him not to mark up your skin since you have performances to do the next day.

“No! I’m letting all of your precious fans know you’re already taken, and there is no chance of them being able to get with you.” He mutters seductively against your neck. A few more thrusts and neck kisses, and your release bubbles out of you. You cry out his name, each one louder than the last, as you cum all over his cock. “Fuck! Yeah that’s right. I’m the only one capable of making you cum this hard.” His thrusts are getting sloppy, and you can tell he is close to his release. He is still pounding into you, which is overstimulating you. Muttering “yeah” and “fuck” to himself quietly over and over again, grunting and groaning. Eventually, he fills you up with his load. Tilting his head down and panting as he tries to calm himself down. He pulls himself out of you, and you whimper. Completely fucked out and brainless at this point.

“Just to check…who do you belong to?”

“You Hongjoong…o-only you.”

“That’s right. Don’t forget that ever again; you got it?”

“Yes Hongjoong.”

Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982 @yeosangsbbg @sanipan @10nantscompanion @xuchiya @bunnyluvr25

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A Kiss to End All Doubt | Albert Moriarty

Summary: When you agreed to tag along with the Moriarty brothers to a grand ball, the last thing you expected was to receive a noble's offer of marriage. Thankfully, Albert plays the part of your lover well, perhaps a little too well for his affectionate words to be fake...

Content: SFW. Fem!Reader. 3,723 words. Pining. Soooo much romantic tension. Albert is a flirt and no one is surprised.

Notes: I have been writing this fic for what feels like forever BUT IT'S FINALLY FINISHED :3 I'm so excited to finally give this to you. I hope you enjoy it 💖 I may also add an epilogue if there's an interest for one...🤭

Did Albert Moriarty, one of the many faces of the Lord of Crime, truly not have the slightest idea of the effect he had on you?

It was silly to even fathom that a man of his stature could be so oblivious, but you couldn’t help but start to wonder once he started giving your flushed cheeks and wide eyes a quizzical look.

That, or he was playing coy with you, which wouldn’t be all that surprising coming from him. He’d long since mastered the art of making noble ladies go weak in the knees.

But that was a skill he’d acquired out of pure necessity. If he had things his way, he’d refuse to give the stuck up women of the nobility the time of day. Unfortunately, he had a role to play in all of his brother’s plans, and so he continued flirting with the noble ladies just long enough to leave them wanting more.

You, on the other hand, were no noble. In fact, you had no good fortune, distinguished education, or marriageable prospects to speak of. Truly, you were nothing but a mere face hidden amongst the shadows, which was perfect for an assistant to the Lord of Crime.

You’d begun to empathize with Albert’s disdain for these royal functions, mainly the lavish balls he and his brothers had little choice but to attend. It was important for them to keep up appearances as a well-rounded noble family who knew how to mingle with the upper-class, whether they enjoyed doing so or not. While they seemed to have gotten used to it for the most part, it proved to be quite the difficult adjustment for you. Thankfully, Albert had patiently taught you the ins and outs of noble life, giving you lessons on small talk and etiquette whenever time permitted.

However, he hadn’t yet taught you how to handle a nobleman’s advances.

“You must be Lady [Name],” the man greeted, holding out his hand for you to take. You briefly glanced towards Albert, taking his nod as a sign to follow through with the gesture. A kiss was placed onto your hand before the man let go, stepping back to better admire the exquisite sights around him. “It’s quite a splendid ball, isn’t it? There’s so many well-mannered and intelligent guests in our midst, such as you, young Lord Albert.”

“Lord Darnley, you are far too kind,” Albert said, placing a hand over his heart and bowing. “I ought to be extending the compliments to you. Your presence here is most welcome, as well as that of your entourage. Would the girl you brought with you happen to be your little sister, Lady Georgina?”

“Ah, I see you’ve made sure to memorize the names of all the guests! Indeed, she insisted on joining me, and no matter what I said, she refused to take no for an answer!” Darnley bellowed in laughter, briefly drawing the attention of the other guests nearby.

“She already seems to be quite the free spirit. I’m sure she has a bright future ahead of her.”

“If you’re so interested in my dear Georgina, I would be more than willing to sit down and discuss a potential marriage between the two of you.”

You swore you saw a flash of disgust appear in Albert’s eyes, but he simply smiled brightly at Darnley, careful that his emotions did not look fake or contrived. “While your offer is certainly generous, I have no plans of marriage at the moment. I’m afraid I’m already plenty busy with my service in the royal army.”

“Ah, what a shame,” Lord Darnley sighed, but his disappointment quickly turned to anticipation when his gaze once again fell on you. Your stomach lurched at the look in his eyes, but you tried to retain your composure, copying Albert’s mannerisms by offering a surface-level smile.

“Lady [Name], I am supposing you are not yet married if you’re attending this function with the Moriartys.”

“That would be correct, my good sir. How astute of you to notice.”

Lord Darnley grinned at the news like a hunter mere moments away from ensnaring this prey. “Well then, my lady, is there anyone that has asked for your hand yet?”

Goosebumps ran down your arms as you swallowed thickly. Anyone with a right mind knew exactly where this conversation was heading.

“I…well…” Should you tell the truth? Should you lie? But then who would you say had expressed a desire in marrying you? “It’s…complicated.”

“So, that would mean no formal question has been posed then, correct?”

“...Correct.”

You heard Albert’s feet shift next to you, on guard for whatever preposterous idea this nobleman could come up with next.

“Well, it’s certainly not good for a lady of your standing to be without a husband. I, myself, am quite the romantic, and I believe a courting period fosters a genuine love between both parties involved. If you have no one currently vying for your hand, perhaps you’d offer me the chance to earn it.”

No. No. On so many levels, no.

But this wasn’t about you—your happiness or married life did not come before the liberation of London. Whatever the brothers asked of you, you would adhere to their words, even if it meant having to be stuck with a man such as…this. Though you knew they’d never even entertain the thought of offering you up to some man who cared only for your beauty and status and nothing for your heart. If you were to refuse Darnley’s advances, at the least, you were confident the Moriartys would respect your decision.

Even so, you didn’t want to cause any more trouble for them. If you couldn’t agree to the idea of marriage, perhaps a date or two would suffice, right?

Just the thought made you feel sick. 

“Well, what do you say, my lady? Will you allow me the pleasure of courting you?”

You knew you had to keep up appearances. You couldn’t allow for cracks to show in the perfect and amicable facade the Moriartys had carefully crafted. You knew that well, and yet…

This was a proposal that not even death itself could bring you to accept.

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I must sincerely refuse.”

Lord Darnley stared at you in alarm. “Come again? You didn’t just say no to my advances, did you?”

Your heart rate quickened as his words grew heated, and in that moment you wanted nothing more than to take off and hide somewhere safe and quiet in the manor’s garden, away from other people who might come up with even more ridiculous propositions.

“It’s just as you heard, my lord. I must decline.”

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Lord Darnley stared straight into your eyes, not blinking for several long moments. Your hands had begun to shake as you feared that you’d just begun tarnishing the reputation of the Moriarty family. Truly, there were fewer things more terrifying than a nobleman who felt he’d been insulted, and the consequences for such an offense would be nothing short of dire.

“Lady [Name], you are in no place to refuse my offer. You said yourself that no other man has even brought up the idea of marriage to you! Are you truly so brazen that you would reject the prospects of a life in union with mine? We all know who makes the decisions around here, and they’re certainly not made by women—!”

“My good sir, I believe you’ve said quite enough.”

A small gasp left your lips as Albert sneaked a hand around your waist, still carefully holding his glass of wine in the other. You searched his face for an answer as to what he was scheming, but he simply smiled—a true one this time—wordlessly reassuring you that all would be well.

“You see, Lady [Name] may not have received an offer of marriage as of yet, but that is only because I have been quite busy protecting our beloved country. I wish to propose when I am able to be at home more often and thus can fulfill my duties as a devoted husband to my wife. So I must politely ask that you rescind your offer, lest you make yourself seem as though you chase after taken women.”

Propose? Husband?

If you were afraid of tainting the Moriarty image, Albert clearly didn’t share your concerns.

“Taken? Why, I—! You’re bluffing, Lord Albert! You’re not planning on marrying this woman!”

“And what has brought you to that incorrect conclusion?”

“If that were the case, you would have brought it up the moment I asked if she were single!”

“To be fair, you asked if she’d received an offer for marriage, not if she was currently available to court.”

You could practically see the steam coming out of Lord Darnley’s ears, his face growing redder with each passing minute. He was still unconvinced, and for good reason, too, but you weren’t about to let Albert’s kindness go to waste.

You placed a hand on Albert’s shoulder, smiling up at him as he redirected his full attention to you. “It’s true, my lord. My affections have been reciprocated by my dear Albert, and I am patiently waiting for him to ask me to marry him. It will be a proposal I shall readily accept.”

Darnley scoffed, a hand placed over his heart in disbelief. “And you had the gall not to tell me when I’d begun to question you? Either you’re a terrible liar, or you’re just hoping to humiliate me in front of all these guests!”

“I would never dream of deceiving or insulting you, my lord. I should have made my relationship status clear to you earlier. Please forgive my carelessness.”

“I still think this is some elaborate hoax the both of you are trying to pull off. If not to tarnish my good name, then to convince every noble here that you’re worth the status bestowed on you at birth.” Lord Darnley swiped a fresh glass of wine off the tray of one of the waiters walking by, the man watching in horror as the lord downed all of the liquid in one gulp. His cheeks had started to take on a flushed hue from the great amount of alcohol he’d consumed that night, and with the way things were going, he was sure to be drunk by the end of it. “Perhaps, Lady [Name],” Darnley continued, a lopsided smirk forming on his face, “you’ve been lying about your social status, and you’re hoping that your marriage to Lord Albert will secure you a place in the upper class.”

Anger surged through you at his utterly ridiculous theory. Darnley had unknowingly gotten one fact right: you were a nobody. When you’d been taken in by the Moriarty family, you had nothing to your name but pen, paper, and the clothes on your back. But you knew one thing for sure: you had worth as a human being, and no one, noble or otherwise, would be able to change that.

And marrying a noble for status? What a laughable suggestion. As if you’d stoop so low just for some so-called “honor” among the elite.

“Well, dear sir,” you began, discreetly hiding a smirk behind your gloved hand, “I had no idea you were so foolish as to even come up with such an inconceivable thought. I once held you in high regard as I’ve heard many within the nobility sing your praises, but your current behavior is quite unbecoming of a person of your stature.”

You heard Albert try, and fail, to stifle a laugh next to you. You quietly breathed out a sigh of relief to see that he’d chosen not to reprimand your strong words. If anything, he seemed eager to encourage them.

As Lord Darnley frantically signaled for a waiter to bring him more wine, Albert took the opportunity to lean down next to your ear, whispering a simple yet heart-pounding question, “[Name], would it be all right with you to play further into these roles of enchanted lovers?”

Your breath caught in your throat, butterflies beginning to form in your stomach. “Of course,” you said. If only you knew how I truly felt, you wouldn’t even need to ask.

He smiled down at you, a sight that only stirred up the butterflies even more, and pulled you closer against him. Meanwhile, his eyes bored into Lord Darnley’s frame, darkening with every passing moment. If there was no one else in that ballroom, you had no doubt Albert would have leapt at the chance to get rid of him.

When Lord Darnley had finished downing another glass of wine, his fiery countenance returned to you and Albert. “You both are frauds,” he spat. “Everyone else here might be too dim-witted to figure it out, but I’ll make them aware that you’re not the upstanding moral characters you believe that you are.”

“It’s a shame to hear such vile thoughts coming from your own mouth, good sir,” Albert sighed. “But if I must be honest, I don’t care what any noble in this room thinks of me or the house in which I rule over.”

“Oh? And why is that, good sir?”

“Because,” Albert answered, turning his body towards yours, his visage noticeably softening when his focus returned to you, “the only person I want to please is the woman I adore. Not one person in the nobility is worthy of praise or merit—no one but her alone.”

Setting aside his glass, Albert gingerly took your hand in his own, meeting your eyes to silently ask for your permission. At your nod of approval, he lifted your fingertips to his lips, placing a gentle and almost reverent kiss against them.

“I love her,” he said, his sweet gaze reaching the very depths of your soul, “and when the time is right, I will make her mine.”

His words were like a match igniting the fire blazing in your heart, the flames fed by your deep affections for him, growing with every beat that thumped in your chest.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand came to rest against your cheek, his touch so light yet so dizzying, more intoxicating than any wine you’d had that night. 

Albert searched your eyes as all the feelings you’d tried to keep at bay finally came pouring in like waves. You were sure he could see it all: the admiration, the yearning, the love you’d kept locked away. But somehow he’d managed to find the matching key, the truth you’d been hiding for all these years finally at his reach.

His fingers traveled along your cheek and down to your jaw, this thumb tracing patterns against your skin. You were still dazed from his words to Darnley, but you brought yourself to meet Albert’s gaze once more, curious to see what truths you could uncover in his own expression.

And you wished you hadn’t, because when you saw the affection so clearly present in them, you wanted nothing more than to throw yourself into his arms and kiss him until the night turned into day.

Albert wasn’t oblivious, and you knew it. Whatever people thought of him as—a genius, a young prodigy, a man of great knowledge—his ability to read people was beyond the average person’s comprehension. And you knew when he’d finally figured out what the person he’d been surveying was hiding. His lips would quirk upwards ever so slightly, the dimples on his face just beginning to show, and he’d cock his head to the side, pleased with his findings.

And that was exactly how he was looking at you.

You’d placed your heart out in plain view of his observant eyes, and he’d figured you out. But now that he knew of your feelings for him, what was he planning to do with them?

Albert’s thumb drifted from your jaw down your lips, careful not to brush off the lipstick staining them. He stared at them for several moments, deep in thought, before he returned his eyes to yours, a single question hidden within them.

May I?

Already breathless, you squeezed his hand once, closing your eyes as Albert leaned in painstakingly slowly, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation. This was the moment you’d only been able to imagine in dreams, on nights where you sat wordlessly under the stars, silently wishing upon them in vain. They couldn’t grant you your desires. They couldn’t give you everything you ever wanted. You were the only one with the power to seize your opportunity and make your own wish come true.

And as Albert’s lips finally fell on yours, you smiled.

Your greatest wish was being granted right before your very eyes.

His lips tasted faintly of wine, and the subdued scent of his cologne still lingered on his collar. Combined with the warm and comforting touch of his hand cupping your face, your senses were overwhelmed in the most wonderful of ways. It felt as if you’d begun to float, brought into a fairy tale-esque trance where the entire world grew still except for you and Albert.

Time had stalled to allow you this moment of pure, undeniable bliss that not even the corrupt powers of this world could take away from you.

With his lips still on yours, Albert’s hand snaked further around your waist, gently pulling you closer against him. You practically had no room left between the two of you, and so in a moment of boldness, you placed one hand on his shoulder, the other on his chest, right above his heart. Even through his suit, you could feel it beating wildly.

It only made you wonder: did he truly mean what he’d said earlier? Did he really harbor such affection for you? Did he really intend…to make you his?

Before you could ponder anymore, Albert finally pulled away, cheeks faintly dusted with rose. He appeared somewhat dazed himself, but he kept his composure, still well aware of where the two of you were at the moment.

But this time when he turned to Darnley, he smirked, practically beaming from head to toe with delight as he spoke. “Well, Lord Darnley, do you believe us now?”

If looks could kill, both of you would have succumbed to that man’s rage.

Darnley’s hands gripped his wine glass so tightly that it shattered onto the floor, the remnants of wine staining his once perfectly polished suit. Other nobles stopped their conversations and turned to him upon hearing the commotion, a few of them even pulling out handkerchiefs.

“Sir, let me get you a new glass,” a waiter spoke, holding his hand out to take the broken one from him. But Lord Darnley was already fuming, and he shoved the waiter to the side, smashing the rest of the wine glass against the floor.

“You will pay for this,” he snarled. Sending you one final glare, he turned on his heel, marching out of the ballroom, hopefully never to be seen again (at least for the night).

“Well,” Albert breathed, laughing as he ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t think he’ll be bothering us anymore.”

“You’re right…Thank you, Albert.”

“What are you thanking me for?” he asked, gaze drifting back to yours. “I’ve done nothing to warrant your gratitude.”

You shook your head. “You have, Albert. You didn’t have to step in and save me from Darnley’s advances, but you did, even though doing so could have tarnished your family name. I’m indebted to you.”

Albert frowned ever so slightly, and you cocked your head to the side, confused. After a few moments, his gaze flickered to the people dancing around the room, his cheeks still tinged a beautiful red. “If you thought I was doing all that just to be a gentleman,” he murmured, “then I don’t know what it would take to make the truth clear to you...”

Well, suddenly you were the one left blushing. 

“It’s not that. I…I don’t want to assume anything more, not when you’re such a precious person to me. I’m just scared of ruining what we have between us.”

Albert turned his attention back to you, using the hand that was still on your waist to pull you close to him again. Taking your other hand in his, he lifted it up to his lips, your faces now just mere inches apart.

“And what if I were to say that I do want something more?”

You almost wanted to pinch yourself to make sure it wasn’t all a dream.

But you still felt the press of his lips against yours, took in the smell of his cologne, and memorized the touch of his fingers running along your cheek. It was not a dream. It was even better.

Albert leaned down next to your ear, his breath fanning against your skin. “If one kiss isn’t enough to convey how much my heart yearns for you, then allow me to kiss you until you’re breathless, and no more words of doubt are left on your tongue.”

Albert smiled as your face grew redder, and with the way he bit his lip, you knew he was struggling not to comment on it.

“For a noble, you sure lack any semblance of shame, Master Albert."

Albert shook his head and chuckled to himself, that mischievous glint having once again returned to his eyes. “Keep teasing me and you’ll find out just how shameless I can be, darling.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Do you want to find out?”

Despite your flustered state, you couldn’t help but laugh, squeezing Albert’s hand tighter in yours. “If you want to kiss me so badly, do so in a place that’s actually romantic, will you?”

Taking you by the hand, Albert began to lead you outside of the ballroom and into the rose gardens. “Of course, and I’ll take my time to make sure I kiss you properly.”

You made a mental note to thank William and Louis for letting you tag along to the ball. If all went well, they would end up becoming your own brothers-in-law, after all.

But that could wait until you finally had Albert’s affections all to yourself.

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #albert moriarty #albert moriarty x reader #kat writes #IT'S FINALLY HERE #Honestly I'm so happy with this one :3

[dollymaniac]

🎰♥️💵𝕃𝕠𝕒𝕟 𝕕𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣💵♥️🎰

Pairing: Vendetta! Leon Kennedy x Fem! reader (afab)

Summary: You lost your game of blackjack against Leon, but you can't afford to pay him, so, he comes up with another form of payment.

A/N: I don't know how accurate i made the blackjack game, haven't played in a while.

Tags: Nsfw (Minors do not interact), Gambling, oral (F recieving), unprotected P in V (Don't be like this two, be safe), debt paying sex, older Leon, creampie,

thank @explorevenus for being my beta reader, love u.

Text dividers

Ah casinos, nothing better for your drunken ass than the smell of whiskey and blood inside of the room, paired with the hypnotic sounds of the machines inside of the casino, and the clinking of glasses and discarded liquor bottles. Sometimes, the table beside you would suddenly become agitated and you would turn around to the men yelling and cursing, throwing punches over an accusation of cheating, or the fact there was no money to pay their debts.

As the dealer came back, you found this time, your game wasn’t against the dealer himself, rather, a man across the table from you. dark brown hair juxtaposed against his ice blue eyes, not lying around it, this man was hot. Sure enough you two were given each other's names through the Dealer, who just in case, ran over the Casino’s rule for the game, Blackjack.

“you two will start with two cards upside down, and set your wagers each” Each of you with different amounts of casino chips, some stacks larger than others depending on the color. “The word hit will give you one more card. Stand, will give you none. double down means you’ll up the wager and get a new card, and surrender means the game is halted and your opponent wins”

Quite simple. you had the opportunity to create four stacks of cards, and pray to the lord, you chose where to place them correctly so that one of the stacks would amount to your total.

“Whoever scores a perfect 21, wins. if none of your stacks amount to 21, the closest one will win”

His voice seemed tired of explaining this, who knows how many times. and the ‘chin’ of the sloth machines rumbled through the room. Both of you nodded, giving room for the dealer to shuffle the cards and throw them upside down towards each of you.

Leon, your opponent was smirking at you the whole time “Good luck Dollface, you’ll need it”, he was rather cocky, taking his cards and laying them down very carefully.

“Sure” you replied back, just taking your time to pick if you would stack them up or divide them, but you decided to keep them separate. Staring at him, wondering how he could be so confident, for all he knew he could get all high numbers and get fucked.

“Mr. Kennedy, your turn”

“hit” a card was slid to him.

Game on. for what felt like eternity you two ordered around the poor dealer, more and more cards slipped into your hands, Leon kept upping the wager over and over again. Like a broken record he repeated “Double up” and added more and more black tokens, he seemed so confident to just keep upping it a hundred at a time, and every time he did, your heart pounded as he reached numbers there was no way in hell you could pay.

You could give up sure, but that would mean paying the absurd amount he was setting up, it almost felt like he was forcing you to keep playing, looking at him, his smirk alone could tell you that he knew you couldn’t pay if you lost, he knew you would be fucked if you lost.

"Double up" Leon said again, almost laughing. Apparently you weren't being so good at hiding your face of absolute horror as he added another Black token to the pile. 

34 black tokens, piled in 3 lines of 10 and one of found. You were in too deep, 3,400 dollars at game here, and you simply couldn't process how the fuck was he so calm.

"Miss" the dealer called you back to reality "you gonna up the wager too?"

His eyebrow lifted, and honestly looked at you with an amount of concern.

"No, i… i stand"

"Very well"

You barely had added any tokens yourself, maybe amounting to 500 dollars, which was still a ridiculous amount. But your gut felt even heavier when you remember that added up, the entire bet was almost 4000.

"Double up" and this time… he added 5 tokens at once.

"YOU'RE ACTUALLY INSANE?! 4,400 DOLLARS?! Down the fucking drain? Are you stupid?" You slammed the table and caused the piles to come crashing down.

"You can't afford it?" His laugh was something that sent shivers down your spine, making you feel warmth inside of you "Because then we can do some arrangements when you loose"

He sounded so confident.

"Ma'am, please sit back down"

The dealer commanded, guiding you into your seat "Stand", you almost immediately barked back, you weren't going to contribute to his stupid little bet.

"Sir?"

"Stand"

Game was over, he seemed rather fascinated at your reaction. And as the dealer turned the cards over, you began to count each stack, 12, 17, 22 and 19.

You had even gone overboard, but as long as he didn't have a 20-21 you'd be ok, you should be, but to your absolute dismay you say how the cards being flipped were telling a completely different story.

17,20,21 and 18.

"Leon kennedy Wins the prize of 4,400 dollars"

The color from your face drained as the realization you had to pay him more than half of a month of your salary hit you, while he stood up and held his hand out.

"Good game doll, you came close"

You took it, shaking and trying to figure out where that money would come from.

"I told you, if you can't pay we maybe can do an arrangement hun"

Your eyes lit up almost instantly as he offered an alternative, quickly standing up and listening to him.

"I noticed how you looked at me" his hand reaching for your hair "and i also noticed how pretty you are" playing around and tangling his fingers in-between the locks.

"How about you keep those 4 thousand and I'll give you the night of your life in exchange?"

You took a good look at him, he was built like a greek god and honestly you saw no problem with the idea of paying him by letting him use you, it even sounded like a reward for you.

"Really?"

"Yes, I don't need more money" he snorted and pulled you closer, whispering into your ear "so?"

"Fuck—" a drowned whimper paired with the thrust of your hips, Leon had you sitting on his desk, legs on his shoulders as he passed his tongue through your clothed cunt.

Debt paying didn't sound so goddamned bad when the form of payment was letting yourself be eaten out by someone to the likes of Leon.

"Fucking dripping" he laughed "all just from my tongue? Fucking slut"

He proceeded to push your panties to the side, enjoying the look of your pussy covered in slick. Pushing his face into you while sucking greedily at your clit.

Your hips rutting into his face, making him groan into your pussy and sending waves of pleasure through your core as the vibration hits you.

You hands on his hair, he lowers his tongue, teasing your entry before pushing it inside of you, making you twitch and let out a moan of his name.

"There go" he laughed against your cunt, pulling away and making you whine in need.

He unbuckled his belt, slipping it off and discarding it to the floor of the office. Snapping open his pants and pulling himself out.

You bit your lip as he stroke the shaft, his tip weeping with precum.

Not even letting you react before he pulled your thighs and dragged you closer, making you gasp before he began to tease your slit with his head.

You made a whimper and gripped harder to the table, so much it'd leave marks on the wood. Leon laughed "how sensitive" lowering to your face before kissing you, prodding your mouth open and getting your tongues to dance and swirl around each other.

Soon enough he directed his cock to your entrance and began to sink inside you, making you moan against his lips.

Stretching you with his dick, he finally pulled away from your lips "taking me so well, right bunny?" You nodded desperately like an idiot, making him laugh.

He began thrusting slowly against you, enjoying the look on your face of pure pleasure with your eyes rolled back.

The little noises spilling from your mouth were like no other music "You enjoying paying i see" he mocked, before suddenly pulling halfway and then slamming right back into you.

The lewd scream you let out, somehow didn't get listened to through the rest of the white house. He dug his fingers in the plush of your thighs as he rammed into your wet cunt.

"Gonna fill you up, nice and good" he grunted "and you'll be a good slut and take it".

It was the fact that you pathetically kept bopping your head and agreeing to his every word that got Leon even more aroused, especially with how tight your walls are squeezing him.

"f-fuck, Leon I'm—" 

"I know pretty girl" you were painfully obvious to read, he reached out a hand and began making circles on top of your swollen clit, chasing your high more than his own, despite being close himself.

And it didn't take long for you to reach orgasm, legs twitching harshly from pleasure.

"That's it, that's a good girl" he muttered, some thrusts later and you could feel him spill inside of you, making you feel this weird pleasure.

He pulled out, and watched with a smirk as his cum spilled out of your pussy.

"Debt paid young lady" he laughed.

Maybe you should lose games more often.

#hachi thoughts #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #leon x reader #mdni. #minors dni #minors do not interact #smut #leon kennedy oneshot #vendetta leon

[gremlingottoosilly]

The Horror and The Wild (yan!Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader) COD Fantasy AU

You decided to visit Konig's harem. Turns out, they like you as much as the emperor himself. Tags and TWs: Dub-con, aphrodisiacs, power imbalance, breeding kink, size difference, age difference(Konig in his forties, Reader in her twenties), medieval/fantasy AU, Konig is a pervert AND an evil dictator

Word count: 3274 AO3

Your husband has a harem. It didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would – he is the emperor, after all. You’d be more concerned and surprised if he didn’t have an army of perfect women lust all over him – catering to his every whim, to every last one of his perverted desires. You read about kings having harems in books – you think that the king of your country had at least a dozen mistresses, although none of them were an official part of the court. Empire is a bit different in its customs – every territory in its big hold wanted to give the sole ruler their greatest treasure, so the politics could be ensured through maidenhood of their daughters. — Little empress is so shy…is this her first time with an angel?

A woman – you think her name was Stiletto, or something equally sharp – was holding you tightly, her breasts against yours, her hips straddling yours in hold that didn’t make you feel unpleasant. If anything, you loved it. Reminded you of the sessions you shared with the Princess. Something that had to be hidden far, far away. — I would r…I think we should discuss, ah, the further fate of the… She holds you close, her lips on your neck. You whimper, looking back only to see König in a relaxed pose, drinking something – you don’t think it was wine, way too golden for anything like this – out of the transparent, beautifully sculpted goblet. For some foolish reason, none of the women in his harem were particularly interested in him – but you counted at least four who already proposed to make your night better. 

It made you feel ecstatic. 

It made you feel shy. You came to the forbidden part of the palace, the one that almost no one is visiting – with the goal to drag at least a few of the servants by their hair, thinking that it would just ensure that you won’t be poisoned later. You came here expecting to be assassinated by some lovestruck princess – but you were kissed, held, and touched by many of them. Your legs already spread wide enough to reveal the edges of the thin laces of your undergarments, your emperor enjoying the show as the women of his harem made a blubbering mess out of you. 

— Are my women not treating you well enough, little princess? 

— Y…your Highness, this is… You whimper, feeling a soft hand on your breast. König was there too – his palm enveloping your chin, gently tilting it so he could kiss you, your face hidden by the fabric of his hood slowly lowering over you. His kisses are softer now, much warmer than they were before – maybe, finally stealing your virtue prompted him to be softer. Maybe, he knew you wouldn’t be running away or trying to kill yourself anymore – so he was able to share with you the softness he previously kept hidden. Maybe, he was always soft and you just never got to see it – but now you can’t help but stare at his softness, taking in every last inch of it. You feel like a fool, honestly. 

There are beautiful women touching you, whispering sweet nothing to you. There is a beautiful man who is devoted to you completely – who burned down an entire castle and took your country just so he would be able to marry you. Yes, with all of these people – powerful, beautiful, angels and gods walking on this sinful earth, you still felt like a servant. Dirt under their boots – the indoctrination of your class is making it impossible to think of yourself as someone who is worthy of even the tiniest bit of praise. 

You think about your princess – if she is alive or not. If she remembers your sacrifice or curses you for it. The news of your wedding should have spread far and wide, even with the little notice that König gave to the bordering kingdoms – and you wonder what would her reaction be. You are getting too far ahead of yourself, after all, You should know your place by now, all things considered. 

König and the girls – you think one of them was the duchess, send here as a peace offering only to be held up in the lower harem, with the Emperor only seeing her for one time and then retreating back to his chambers – only let go of your when you started sniffling, an action so freakingly ugly for an empress. You should never show your true emotions – you knew this even from your years with the princess, with other servants being as cruel as devils while she wasn’t looking. Perhaps, you still haven’t outgrown this mentality. 

— What’s wrong, meine Liebe? 

— You’re disturbing the Empress, your highness. 

— I am her husband! 

— Maybe, this is why she is disturbed. Are you ignoring her needs too, Your Majesty? 

— I will nit be ridiculed by my…

— Oh, but please, do proceed, our lord. The princess is crying already. 

— You scared her!

— Maybe, she didn’t want to be married. You could send her to harem and make her like us… — And to have you, vile creatures, fuck her till she passes out? — At least we could show you pleasure. Maybe, she’s on edge because Your Highness was…

— I won’t be talking to you about it! 

— Ah, but the Empresses’s distress is evident already, our lord. Do we need to cast a potion for your…

You feel their hands on you again, soft touches mixing with rough fingers caressing your face – your cheeks, your lips, passing into your mouth and making you suck for the tiniest bit of a second, leaving right when you started to feel uncomfortable. You feel loved, so thoroughly, by him and by them – and you don’t feel like you deserve to be. 

You can’t find a real reason to talk to them – so you do your best to shut up, biting your lips that were smeared with makeup so thoroughly. You felt awful, you felt horrible, you felt like you were going to freaking burst because, by gods, there are so many people around you who deserve to be treated as kindly as possible, who deserve to be treated like equals – and yet, you still feel like a servant. Like a bought pet who was dragged to the house where no one wanted to see you and to hold you – and yet, there are so many people, longing to just… You sigh, curling up in a corner. Distasteful display from an empress – but you could worry about assassins and court intrigues the other day. You don’t have the strength to play in the games of these vile women anyway. Not that you would be able to even if you’d want. 

— Meine Liebe, please, you must protect your dignity over those…

— I’m sorry. 

— What? 

Hands are gripping you tighter, suffocating. You shouldn’t mistake their devotion for kindness, their affection for liability. No matter your cries and pleads, they won’t let you go – and even the girls who looked the kindest, the ones who already got your dresses collected and your hair in elaborate constructions, with their soft hands running up and down your breasts, your hips, your rear – were nothing more but a pack of people who used to get what they wanted. And you shouldn’t think that your opinion would matter – but you could close your eyes and think about your country. Close your eyes and try to enjoy it if only for a little while. 

— I’m not…not fitting as a queen. 

One of the girls plummets on your lap, her hair spreading across the floor. You start to pet her out of pure instinct – and you can feel König’s hand in your hair, doing the same. Somehow, the tiniest act made you feel even more like a pet and less like a person with power. Maybe, because you never had power to begin with. 

— Of course not. You’re an empress, not a… You gulp, worry still in your mind. You are surrounded by people who should look up at you – and yet, you feel like a pet, brought to them for amusement. Then it strikes you – then it falls down to your shoulders, heavier than the crown you never wanted to wear. 

A consort empress – no power, no influence, just smile and wave to your people in a pathetic attempt to remind them that you exist. You exist, you exist, for their amusement, for your husband’s amusement, to make the crowd wild with promises of heirs, to make everyone forget what exactly you are doing here. That your job as an empress is to sit back and look pretty, hoping that it would be enough. That it needs to be enough.

— Am I? Seems more like a toy for everyone. 

They laugh – they smile and push their hands on you again, surrounding you with swirls of touches and gentle pushes. Back and forth, back and forth. You feel like a fool falling for something as silly as this – being consumed by lust of not just your husband, but also the women who, by all means, are supposed to take you in and leave nothing behind. You were supposed to swirl around in cort intrigues, not in… A hand moves down your stomach, fluttering just above your labia. Dancing on the gentle skin, caressing in a tingling motion – you moan and spread your legs depsite yourself, despite the feeling of apathy slowly growing in your bones. Your body got so used to constant pleasure, it makes you crave it like the last whore in the whole empire. You aren’t sure who is touching you – but you know that König is nearby, his hand tilting your head to the side, so he could look. Enjoy the view – god, you must look like such a mess right now… — The consort is a toy for the whole Empire, Schatzen. You knew this when you agreed to marry me. 

— You never asked my hand properly, Your Highness. 

— Why would I need to, if I could just chop it off and bring it with me? 

You gulp, thinking again – gods, your choice in marriage is as horrible as the legends say. Especially since there are no legends of him yet – his rise to power is too fast and too early – and since you never had a choice on the matter anyway. Since there is no way you could have escaped this. 

— Would you like it, then? To kill me for spare parts? 

He laughs, and the others followsuit. You feel weird – you don’t understand them, their reactions, you feel like your head is going to burst from all the emotions being contained deep inside. You take a deep breathe and think. Trying desperately not to seem insane. — This would be a waste of a perfectly fine princess. 

— She’s an empress now, your highness. 

— Oh, but she will be a princess to us, ja? They giggle – and you feel dragged to the other room, finally alone. Not as much as you linked to be – König is still there, his hands are keeping you in place firmly. Fingers playing with the edges of your outfit, you feel somewhat sated and drained already. Your maidenhood throbs between your legs, soaked and warm from the touches and nice words of the women of his harem – and you feel weird, knowing that he allowed this infidelity to happen on his watch. At least you knew he never touched a single one of these women, although they were gifted to him. At least you know that he is ready to throw you in for the wolves in order to satisfy you while he is away doing everything an evil ruler should. 

He lets you sit on a chair, pulling you in his lap – an intimate position, the outline of his cock is poking at the outline of your rear even through the skirts of the dress you wore. He pushes his face in the crook of your neck and you feel the tingling sensation of his tongue outlining your skin. You don’t want him to make you even warmer, to play with you more than all of his harem did – but it’s a welcomed distraction. You still feel like an imposter who never deserved to even be here in the first place…

— You do realize that you not being a princess doesn’t matter, right, Schatzi? 

He cocks your head to the side, making you look at him wide-eyed, surprised. You are pressed against his chest, your face dangerously close to his – you want to get as far away from him as possible, but he whispers in your neck like it’s a gospel. You’re inclined to listen. 

You don’t answer – you just let him keep going because, in the end, this is what a good empress is supposed to do, you think. Sit tight and listen and listen and use all of the space in your head to get into theirs. You feel like a fool even trying to attempt this, but…you never listened to the stories about your husband before he came into your life – and now you’re fabulously undereducated on the matters of his life. 

König’s hands are going up, into your cleavage – almost ripping your corset open and not caring for how expensive it was. He has a terrible habit of running every pretty thing he buys for you – and you bite your tongue as to no scold him for leaving your breasts out, the diamonds and ripped seams on full display. You feel like a fool, knowing just how inappropriate he is with you. And how you allow him to do it. 

— I would never accept that stuck-up royal of yours as mine. As a part of the harem, maybe. To forget about her bloody existence. 

You bite your lips, a scowl escaping your expression. You don’t want to act like this, but she was still your princess – whenever she is now, if not dead and forgotten even by her own people. 

— Don’t…don’t speak of Her Majesty like this. 

— What a loyal servant you are, meine Liebe. Why not put that loyalty to me? 

— Do you also need help with wearing your own clothes and warming your jewels? 

— Maybe. If I get to feel your hands on me each time you do it. 

You feel your cheeks burning. Your teeth are clenching, your hands and gripping your skirt, almost ripping the delicate material to shreds. Oh no – you’re getting used to a rich life, not even caring for your own clothes and how expensive it would be to replace them. König kisses your forehead, laughing, and your entire face and neck are burning now – the expression of his affection always makes you embarrassed, even if this is, by far, the most innocent thing he did to you. Much more pure than…no, if you’d start thinking about it, the space between your thighs would be wet again – and you already established just how sinful it would be. 

— You are making it look like I have to worry about every maid who swings her skirt around you. 

— Hm. I don’t think that my maids are half as cute as you. 

— So you went to steal maids from other countries? 

He chuckles, holding your chin in an iron grasp. You can’t turn away and save your graces when he is taking his mask down, smiling like a cat who got the cream. Perhaps, he is just like a cat – a ginger one, arrogant and smug, with rare stubble grazing over your sensitive skin as he plants a sloppy kiss on your lips. He is hungry, devouring you with each stroke of his tongue – the literature made you think that those kinds of embraces should be gentle, slow. You know better now, of course. 

— I knew I needed a wife. People won’t take lightly to their emperor being more and more involved with dark powers – I thought that maybe, having a people-pleasing empress would make a difference. 

He pinches your nipples until they are nice and firm, almost bruising your soft breasts in his hands. He is trying to handle them gently, but he is unable to contain his excitement – and you feel your lower parts clenching around nothing, moisture collecting in your undergarments. König isn’t soft when he is handling you like this, the overwhelming pleasure is risking to make itself known to everyone – by gods, you are tired of always getting handled like this. Like just an afterthought in his perverted desires…but, perhaps, you are just that. 

— It was stupid. I sent the first letter, then the second…and this entitled brat didn’t even bother to answer. I knew she wouldn’t – but it still stings. 

You remember the letters. Remember the annoyed voice of your princess, as she told you to handle them – burn them, toss them away, rip them to shreds, and feed them to the birds passing by. Everyone knew that the emperor already had a harem, and your princess didn’t want to be a part of it – besides, the king already established no connections to the empire, even as it was creeping to his doorstep. 

You also remember writing the answers. Polite ones, short ones – the types that wouldn’t involve you in a political ploy. Leaving the emperor without an answer would be even worse than proclaiming war – wounding a man’s pride is something, that your princess knew how to do well, and also a thing that you knew how to take care of. Always the one to clean up her messes.

— I knew it wasn’t her writing those answers. But I remember how they felt, in my hands. The smells of whatever fragrance you put, ja? 

You also remember accidentally cutting yourself while writing one of the answers – ink mixing with blood on expensive paper, made you think twice instead of changing the paper piece to a new one. Perhaps, if you were truly smarter than that, you’d just toss it away. Unfortunately for you and the kingdom, you didn’t want to waste expensive, fragrant paper. 

— So…you’re saying that…

— It’s your fault, Meine Liebe, really. I fell in love with you since the first word you have written for me. So why would you cry in front of me and my harem like that?

— You’re lowering yourself like this. Being on my level…not something fit for an emperor. 

He laughs, his fingers returning to gently squeeze your nipples together – and then go high, to push your face in place again. König plants another kiss on your lips and dips, his tongue playing over one of your swollen nipples. You don’t want to think about how much your body will change when his seed is going to take – but you know it won’t be long, with how often he pushes himself between your legs, filling you up until you can’t walk anymore. 

— You know nothing about me, do you, Schatz? 

— Thought you wanted it that way. 

— Public won’t take nice to a ruler like me. Not a drop of royal blood. 

You don’t think you knew the stories about him. The rumors, maybe – calling him the bastard king, the one that killed the previous ruler of his country in a soldier’s uprising. It’s all being taken down now, with all the old rich families either getting wiped out or signing their loyalty to the new emperor. The books are being burned and written anew. 

— We’re both servants, little princess. And I would never someone born into this uptight fucking family. 

Hm. A bastard emperor and a fake princess.

You really were made for each other. 

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #call of duty #cod x you #emperor!konig #konig cod #konig x you #cod konig #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere x you

[sstrwbrryccke]

I SAW UR SUGAR BABY!SOOBIN FIC AND IT'S SO FUCKING HELLO ?!? could u possibly write something similar for hoon :00 (n could it be male reader :00)

HIIII thank you im glad you enjoyed it ahhsagds !!! and i have so many thoughts for sunghoon <3 i think he would be a bit more smug compared to soobin, not as obedient but playful and cute in his own way!

the ending is a little rushed because i wrote this on the airplane to shanghai 💀😭 (also not proofread so its probably really bad)

— sponsor | sub park sunghoon

tags: aspiring skater!sugarbaby!sunghoon x rich!reader, amab reader, power dynamics, praise kink, unconventional settings to have sex, soft sex, shower sex, frottage, thigh fucking, body worship

you were old money, the kind that people call 'disgustingly rich'. the type of rich family that throw galas instead of family gatherings, and that's where you met him in the first place. it was one of your many cousins' birthday, excessively wealthy and extravagant, a golden gilded hall decorated with a specially laid ice skating rink for performers. you heard your cousin had been an avid ice skating fan and wanted a live performance for his birthday.

the night had been smooth, dull as you would expect out of a bunch of old-money conservatives whose idea of humour is joking about tax evasion. but you notice just by the off-chance, a lean man clad in all black, bumping into a column, a word slips from his mouth; which you can only guess was a swear word. it was strange, he was clearly out of place. but this wasn't some wattpad story about you sweeping a mysterious man off his feet, so you shrugged and continued sipping on your champagne glass.

you only really notice him during the performance, the mass was seated in the grand hall, lights dimming as the spotlight shone; and it was seriously strange. because he wasn't even the main lead, in fact, he was one of the many backup dancers. yet you just couldn't take your eyes off him. there was something so enchanting about his elegance, you could feel his genuine dedication and passion from where he skated. when the show finished, you find yourself clapping, eyes still mesmerized as the boy leaves for the backstage.

a crowd gathers around the main leads, interested sponsorships and words of praise exchanged. while your eyes drift to the man walking off, taking a scone from the buffet stands before disappearing into the balcony. naturally, you follow after him— which in hindsight was slightly creepy because you've been practically eyeing him down. but you really wanted to spark up a conversation with this pretty boy.

when you reach the balcony, you find the backside of the man leaning on the railing. you lean next to him and he was visibly startled— so much so he dropped the scone in his hand. he does attempt to catch it— horribly, and the dessert tumbles into the void, his mouth agape. "aish..."

"ah, sorry."

"no, it's no problem! really! sir!" he quickly rectifies, aheming into his fist and waving his other hand around before looking directly in front of him. occasionally glancing at you with his eyes only. he was visibly nervous, definitely embarrassed too. he straightens his back and raises his chin, probably trying to seem professional in front of you; but you could tell with the way he clenched his jaw that he was tense. and you don't blame him, it looks like this was his first time coming to such a luxurious gala, surrounded by tons of powerful men and women who could either make or break his career.

"well, what's your name?" you offer a conversation starter, since it didn't seem like he was budging.

"i'm park sunghoon, sir!"

"nice to meet you park sunghoon, how old are you?" you ask smoothly, stretching a hand out for him to shake. he couldn't even look you in the eyes, what a shy and polite man.

he wipes his sweaty hands on his pants, before taking your hand with both of his, bowing. "nice, nice to meet you too! i'm 21 turning 22, sir."

"we're the same age, that means you don't need to call me sir."

"yes sir." he replies without much thought.

you give him a pointed look and he quickly shuts up. he was endearing in his own way though, the interaction made you smile. this man who had previously been so elegant and precise on stage was actually very timid.

"you caught my eye in the performance."

he lights up at this, turning his head to you with a small bashful smile on his lips. "thank you so much, i'm surprised you remember me."

"of course i do, couldn't keep my eyes off you in fact." you advance, tilting your head as you subtly flirt. you were into him and you wanted him to understand that. "oh." he mouthed, and it seems like he was starting to recognize the connotations of the conversation. he was still smiling, but you could see a pink tint on his pale skin.

"no, seriously. you're super talented, i want to sponsor you."

his smile drops, a shocked expression on his face instead, soon he's ecstatic. "really?"

you chuckle, "yes, really."

☆★☆

perhaps, your definition of sponsor was just sugar baby with extra steps. because soon, the two of you fall into that type of relationship. it started with a bouquet of flowers after his practice (which you went to weekly), then it became a dinner invitation, and eventually you were lavishing him with gifts and luxury items. okay, perhaps you were just courting this man in the form of presents.

you watch on the sidelines as sunghoon does his usual practice on the ice (a private ice rink you hired for him), he glances towards you with a mischievous grin before doing a silly spin. you just chuckle, shaking your head. when it was over you sling a towel over his neck like usual, handing him a water bottle. he stares at you, rather proud of himself.

"did you see the spin?"

"nah, i was looking at the wall." you joke, there was literally no one else but sunghoon to look at. "issh" he shakes his head, lightly punching your arm.

after, you treat him to a nice dinner in this expensive restaurant, he’s used to your dinner invitations, but he still can't settle his nerves coming to such a high-end restaurant. chatting with you soothed his anxiety though, and shortly he was joking and laughing like usual.

the first course was served, and you took this opportunity to slide over the blue container with the tiffany and co logo. sunghoon takes it shyly, glancing at you, you give him an encouraging look. at the beginning of this dynamic; he did try to refuse the expensive gifts, but you were insistent and sunghoon secretly enjoyed receiving the presents too.

he feels his heart thumping with excitement as he unwraps the case, a genuine surprise in his eyes when he pulls out the silver wire tiffany t bracelet. he’s been wanting it for a while now, mentioning it once casually. and you remembered! he tries it on for you; because he knows you like seeing him with your gifts. the bracelet glints in the light and he looks at you with a reserved smile.

"thank you so much... i don't know to repay you—"

"by being mine." you interrupt him, the words come out before you can even comprehend it, baffled by your impulsivity. "i'm sorry it just came out— if it makes you uncomfortable i apo—"

"yes."

you blink slowly, while he looks at you with full seriousness. and that's how sugar baby sunghoon came to be.

☆★☆

navigating the dynamic was like navigating any other romantic relationship, though sunghoon treated it like a contract at the start. unusual, but usual for sunghoon. it made you chuckle about his seriousness of the entire situation. the whole circumstance was bizarre but silly. what an endearing man. he would sit you down one day, hands clasped together.

"what are your expectations for me?"

and you snicker. he said it like it was a full-time job, which maybe it could be.

"recieve my gifts, and enjoy your best life."

he looked determined, continuing on. "is sex on the table?" he was surprisingly straightforward. it's always the quiet ones who were unexpectantly bold huh...

"if you're comfortable with that, yes." you give him a firm nod.

"i see." he pulls back, shy again.

"so, are you?" you tease, because he didn't outwardly give an answer.

he pauses, and you spot a glint in his eyes. his tongue darts out to wet his lips and his mind runs rampant. how cute.

"i am."

☆★☆

and wow was that quite literally the best decision in your entire life. everything remained the same, except now you have an extremely hot and sexy ice skater whose libido was as high as his talent. life was good. life was great.

training went as you expect, sunghoon absolutely smashed through his routine. running back to you with a proud smile, hands on his hips.

"i did pretty good, didn't i?" he always asked similar questions, pridefully, wanting to be praised.

"did you? didn't see." you would always tease him, and he would respond by playfully hitting your shoulder. the sass doesn't last long though, because the moment you two are alone in the locker room that's when you go down on him, embracing him as his lovely quiet moans seep out from your kiss.

it should be classified as an addiction at this point, the amount of unconventional places you guys had done it in. collecting locations like pokemon cards. it was tame at first, or tame for your standards anyway. the first time was in the hotel, of course, but after that, you went straight for the ice rink. its not exactly public, as you had rented the entire private rink for your beautiful ice prince, but the setting itself was scandalous. just imagining the sanction that housed many hours of his talent, being dirtied by his sweat in another sense was downright sinful. sunghoon never complained however, because as long as you praise him, he was satisfied. boy was he a sucker for praise, he keens when you whisper in his ear, almost over the moon when you compliment him on his skating. he would moan unashamedly, (normally he would block his moans or whimper) and you respond by spreading his legs in clear view of the ice rink. slam him down and feel his back arch prettily against your chest.

sunghoon was contradictorily both shy and straightforward when it came to his words and actions during sex. he's quiet and sometimes downright refuses to moan or beg. yet when he's close he would straight-up demand things from you. when you fold his flexible body in half and ram into his sensitive hole, he would spread wider for you (which you thought was physically impossible but he proves you wrong), yet bashfully hides himself when you praise him. he was a man full of contradictions, but it really drove you wild.

but it wasn't all about sex anyway, sex made up barely half of it, because it was really all about him. sunghoon just had a soul that was born to attract you. he's introverted and reserved with others, which explains why he doesn't attract sponsors or gain lead roles, but underneath it all was such a uniquely endearing man with a strong ambition for his passions.

you absolutely loved spoiling this boy and watching his reactions; him wearing the items you brought for him just gave you that extra dose of serotonin. when the two of you made it official, he was just so much more ecstatic with each gift he received from you. it wasn't even the gifts themselves that pleased him so much, it was the care you gave that really hit the mark for him. that burberry scarf he eyed for a few minutes? woke up to it on his lap. the prada bag he briefly mentioned he thought was fashionable? on the kitchen counter. you just paid so much attention to him, and he felt so loved.

you supported him in his ice skating career too, attending every competition he's been in and always making sure to watch over at least one of his daily practices a week. he had big ambitions and eventually wanted to compete in the olympics, which you had no doubts he would achieve.

gradually, you wanted to integrate him into your life too, though it was hard to explain to your parents the logistics behind taking a 'common ice skater' with you everywhere. you two managed to keep a low profile.

and by everywhere, you meant everywhere. you brought him to tennis and golf practices, he struggled with golf but had fun with tennis. and you brought him to basically every single gala and ball your family tree hosted. it was enjoyable at first, but introverts do what introverts do and he gradually voiced how he preferred quieter, more intimate meetings with you. in which you decided to only bring him to the important galas. (maybe every single one was a bit overkill) but he was so right because intimate stay-ins with him were so much better and more peaceful compared to your hectic everyday life. he was a very mindful and health-conscious person, so you often find yourself doing stretches and going to the gym with him. it was absolute zen. plus, there was the bonus of you slowly snaking your arms behind him, kissing his neck and lips as much as you want without worrying about public perception.

☆★☆

you can tell something was bothering him, with the way he fidgeted and dazed off in your shared hotel room. anyone in his position would he nervous, after all, he was competing for the olympics! through much hard-work from his side and endless support from yours, he qualified for the olympic team after winning nationals with flying colours. you knew he had it in him, you knew since the first day you met.

“hoon, you nervous?” you ask, coming up behind him to rub at his shoulders. he gives you a small smile before sighing. “a little.”

you pull him into a hug, your chest pressed towards his back. he relaxes slightly. “want to talk about it baby?” you stroke his stomach, trying to soothe him.

“it’s silly,” he gives you a half smile. you slap his thigh lightly “issh!”

“it’s not silly, tell me.” you pout, kissing his neck. he laughs as you lavish his neck with lovebites.

“i’m just worried that i’m going to lose.” he says in-between giggles. you temporarily stop your assault in his neck, lifting your head to look at him.

“you won’t lose baby, and even if you do, just being in the team is already an amazing feat. most people go their whole lives without even touching olympic level.”

he seemed a little reassured by this, but you could tell his mind was still swirling with other thoughts. you kiss his cheeks, waiting for him to open up about it himself.

“it’s just, if i lose, im wasting all your effort and money.”

you finally pause at this, giving him a look. “what? how am i wasting effort and money on you?”

he seemed a little nervous, gulping down his saliva. “i mean, you invested so much into me, the least i could do is win.” you were shocked, was he dense or stupid? maybe a little bit of both. you roll your eyes as you lift him in your arms. he lets out a startled gasp as you bring him to the bathroom. you face him towards the mirror, grasping at his chin so he looks directly into his eyes.

“do you see this? what a gorgeous, beautiful, godly man.” you whisper in his ear and you watch his cheeks blossom a scarlet red. your hands trail down to his chest, unbuttoning the top.

“wow, look at that. so pretty, so soft and perfect.” you knead his chest, flicking at his pink nipples before moving down, massaging his toned stomach. he was staring at the parts your hand were drifting to as you fondle him. you kiss the shell of his ear, making him shiver “hngh…”

your fingers trail down, you lick your lips at his delicious reactions. palming at his erection. “every part of you is so pretty. such nimble arms and thighs, no wonder you’re so good at ice skating. everything about you is just so lovable.”

he was trembling, glancing into your eyes in the mirror and you could tell he wanted you to continue. “don’t you get it already? you really think i brought all those gifts, paid all those lessons and sponsored you because it was an investment?” you whisper, he turns his face to meet with yours, taking your lips desperately.

“i love you.” he whispers breathily into the kiss, that was the first time any of you said that sentence. he freezes, anxiety filling his face.

“i love you too, hoon.” you french kiss him, your tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip, he reciprocates gladly.

“i love you i love you i love you so so much.” he stammers, grinding his ass against your hardening cock. “i love you too baby, you have no idea how much i love you.” you grunt into his ear, sliding your dick out from your underwear. the both of you were barely clothed in the first place.

“hngh put it in already please,” he’s never been this vocal before, you felt your cock twitch just at the desperation in his voice. but you controlled yourself, he had a skating competition tomorrow after all.

“hoonie the olympics is tomorrow.” he whines and you chuckle fondly. spoiled brat.

“put your thighs together.” you give his ass a light slap, he listens and puts his thighs closely. you could see his dripping cock through the small gap. “good boy.” you praise and he rubs his thighs together.

not waiting any longer, you slip your hard cock between his thighs, groaning lowly at the sensation. god it felt so good, he clearly thinks so too because he immediately whimpers, pushing back at your dick. you let him adjust to the sensation before slowly thrusting against his thigh.

“angh... ugh… so good… love you… love you…” he whimpered, panting softly. you pull his head to the side to kiss him again, hand grasping at both of your cocks and he cries into your mouth. you thrust harder and faster, he reciprocates happily by clenching his thighs tighter. soon his stomach was squeezing and his pants became breathier.

“gonna come, can i come? please? please?” and who were you to resist your prince?

“come for me hoonie, come for me.”

his thighs stutter and he clenches his teeth as a strangled voice comes out. he came in spurts, long and thin. you wish you could taste his pretty semen as well but thats for another time. you slip your cock out from his thighs, jerking yourself off and coming all over his ass and back.

it was arousing and you could almost go again, but he needed rest so you tenderly kissed his back, cleaning him up.

“i’m going to win for you.” he says breathily while you were wiping him down, you look at him amused, chuckling.

“don’t do it for me, do it for yourself.”

“no, this seriously motivated me to win. i’m going to win the olympics and then we’re going to have the most mind-blowing sex ever.”

you guys share a look before laughing.

☆★☆

everyone could hear the thumping of their own hearts as they waited for the results to unveil. sunghoon grasps your hand and you give him a squeeze.

before you could process it, you were ecstatically cheering, turning to sunghoon. the man beside you was in genuine shock, staring at his high score as if it was an alien on earth. holy shit, he got the highest score and he’s in first place!!!

snghoon lunges for you, tumbling you out of your chair as he tightly hugs you. not like you cared about the people staring, because you shared the excitement. you hug him back just as tightly, stroking his back. you feel the crook of your neck and shoulder wet.

after a few seconds, you help him stand and he wipes his eyes with an embarrassed smile. you couldn’t stop grinning as he received his medal.

☆★☆

sunghoon was able to keep both of his promises that day. the moment you two arrived in the hotel, you had a very needy sunghoon clinging around you neck, drawing you into a deep kiss as you navigate around the room.

you manage to peel him off for a second, to undress him and yourself, stumbling into the shower. you adjust the water while sunghoon unrelentlessly grinds against your cock.

“hn, god please! ive been wanting this since yesterday, ive been so good, so good, please reward me” he whimpers quietly and you melt. you grasp his hips tightly, pulling his back flush against your chest and you grind down his ass. he groans, hands propped on the shower wall for support.

your finger plays with his rim and he whines, prodding the hole before inserting. you were careful, treating his body like porcelain as you coo into his ear. he was so desperate, willingly giving up his sweet voice for you to hear. you add another finger and he was now fully rutting against you, eyes closed as he fucked himself on your fingers. it was an endearing sight, but you pull out, slapping your cock on his ass.

“what do you want again?” you play innocent, chuckling at his offended expression. he groans, frustratedly pushing back at your cock.

“you know what i want! i want you inside me please!” he whines out and you laugh. you give him what he wants, slipping your cock into his tight hole, groaning as you feel his gummy walls enclose around you.

“you feel so good sunghoon, such a pretty boy.” you coo into his ear and he clenches his thighs tighter. you thrust into him, each one faster and harder than the previous one and he was in actual heaven. tongue lolling out as he groans with each motion, it didn’t take long until he was crying out a strangled coming.

you weren’t done with him yet though, you prop his flexible legs up, making him sink deeper into your cock as he chokes. before he could protest you start nailing into him, hitting his prostate so well and on point that he visibly crumbles, hands desperately grabbing at anything as his cock sputters out another load.

his eyes were wide as he watches his dick cry uncontrollably, while you adjust behind him, ready to piston into him all over again. oh boy was he in for a wild ride…

that’s how the night progressed, you plummeting his ass in the shower, and then at the bathroom counter, then you moved him to the hotel bed, forcing him to ride you until he couldn’t prop himself up anymore.

his body slumps over yours, exhausted and overstimulated, thighs trembling and nerves sputtering. but you still moved beneath him and he cries “can’t! can’t, hurts please it feels too good.”

you grin into his skin, jerking his cock a few times and he comes again. body limp. you pull out and the warm semen in his hole dribble out. just as you try to move to clean him up, his arms tightly wind around your waist.

“stay here.” it was a demand from your ice prince and you snicker.

“anything for the olympic winner.”

#fic ☆ #ask ☆ #anon ☆ #sub sunghoon #sub!sunghoon #sub!enhypen #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen hard thoughts #sub enhypen #enhypen hard hours #sub!idol #sub idol #sunghoon x you #enhypen x reader #kpop x male reader

[lume-nosity]

an: this is a reupload!! (copy and paste pain) because for some reason my original post wasn’t showing up on the tags?? even my own??? if this doesn’t show up again i’m just gonna leave it as is. also the og’s who saw the post before i took it down are the real ones <3 anyways, requests are closed but i took this as a suggestion because i wanted to do it. when i saw this in my inbox i felt productive/determined to fulfill this ask so you're welcome /Ih and holy shit 2k+ notes on part one you guys are crazy thank you so much i'm so glad you liked it!! you take care of yourself as well dear anon <3

‘i've got my eye on you.’ (pt. 2)

prompt: what would they do if they saw their s/o in an uncomfortable situation

characters: itto, diluc, zhongli, ayato, tartaglia, thoma, kaeya

style: fluff, much fluff

notes: not proofread, lowercase intended, possibly ooc because i used character demos/teasers/ a few voicelines as references, gender neutral reader, the smaller text is whispering, no dialogue/use for [name], kuki shinobu mention in itto's part, how tf do you write zhongli and kaeya, petnames: beloved, treasure, love, swearing, blood mention in tartaglia's part, tartaglia getting a little violent, got lazy while writing the last few portions

reblogs are appreciated!

itto

"HEYYYY THERE YOU ARE!! so uh, are these guys bothering you?"

"huh, so they are. hey! hey, no worries! ill getcha outta here. i'm THE arataki numero uno they’re dealing with."

"hey, so, you're making my lovely super amazing wonderful partner uncomfortable and i would absolutely LOVE it if you leave em alone."

"oh wait, they're already gone. OHHHH did i scare them?? HAHAHAAA, man, that was great. totally worth the scare. anyways! want to have an onikabuto battle? yeah? OKAY! come on, come on, come on!!! i know the best spot to find them. but just so you know, i will beat you this time!"

let me tell you itto's was a lot of fun to write. i don't have to write too seriously!!!

he was looking for you actually, to have a little onikabuto battle since he's determined to win. (despite the many losses he has under his belt)

but seeing you look so uneasy from afar, yeah no he's not having it. ran towards you at mach 20.

one simple glance at him, those creeps are running to their mothers. the best part was that itto was confused as to why they've run off but he assumed it was because of him.

well, he's half right, because what really scared them off was kuki shinobu's shadow quite literally appeared out of nowhere next to you and itto. mvp! you guys weren't aware of her presence, because after they ran off, she just walked away. stealthy. like a boss.

i find it canon that if itto has a s/o shinobu would do anything in her power to keep those two away from trouble/danger. it's her job as deputy leader of the arataki gang, right?

diluc

"look, i'm not interested in small talk, but i'll get straight to the point. if you wish to make things simple for the both of us, see yourselves out. i won't ask again."

"what am i going to do about it? well, wouldn't you like to know." (casually readies his claymore)

"what a bunch of imbeciles. *sigh* i apologize for not arriving here sooner, i'll escort you home."

"you. want to stay with me? alright, i'll arrange a room for you at the winery right away. no? ah. i see. then i suppose my bed would big enough for the two of us to sleep on. are you satisfied with that? good. now let's go."

he isn't the darknight hero for nothing

like the gentleman he is, he was going to accompany you until you get home safely and then exchange goodbyes.

but no, you wanted to stay with him for the night. he has many rooms for the guests to use, but when you in particular suggested to sleep with him in his room, he of course doesn't mind since it's you.

should it be anyone else, it'll be an immediate no. so be glad you get to have this privilege from the guy because he loves you and is willing to do anything for you

zhongli

"pardon the intrusion, but i believe now's the time for the both of us to take our leave. please excuse us."

"it'd be wise for you to not place your indelicate hands onto my beloved. lest you'll see a rather.. grotesque, outcome."

"my dear, are you alright? ... how did i find you, you may ask? oh, please do not underestimate me. i'm far more than what meets the eye."

"we are sharing a contract, after all. to live and cherish life with one another until the end of time, to be safe, filled with tenderness and warmth within our hearts, and to not have anyone interfere that great deal of a bond. for you are my greatest treasure."

rip my brain for having to push zhongli's portion out because it clearly cannot comprehend this man's vocabulary.

you and him are to follow a contract, yes. but it's similar to a confession, if that makes sense?

basically zhongli was the one to confess to you first with his built-in thesaurus (to which you accepted of course if you like him too) and then have you and him sign' this sort of contract as a promise to stick with one another for as long as life can allow it. and by sign...

it's a kiss. to seal the contract :)

ayato

"a pity. hm? yes, i am 'the head of the kamisato clan. but your concerns about my reputation is irrelevant."

"you're harassing my lover, and if i catch you doing this unsightly act once again, then i'm afraid i'll have to resort to something that'll make you wish you've never been born."

"ah, my words were too harsh? nonsense, it was vitally necessary. at least it'd driven them away. well, i guess there are benefits for someone of high status."

"come now, i'll have my staff cook you something to your liking. you are my lover, so they'll be sure to suit your needs. you needn't worry."

fun fact: i've never finished ayato's story quest so i was writing this blind (with the help of some voicelines/demos/teasers, this goes along with the rest of the men on this list)

originally, you two were going on a nightly stroll since he was free but were stopped by a group of creeps. however, ayato handled the matter in his way.

in his head, those creeps are a waste of time and mere bugs because, well, they are. and pathetic, because they immediately recognize him for his high status and they all shrank in his presence. which made things easier for ayato. he made a small threat, and then they zoomed.

afterwards, he wanted to bring you home for dinner instead. continuing to stay out after that ordeal was not an option in his book.

what a good man

tartaglia

"wow, you all are quite bold. daring to do that while i'm here? hah, how risky. i'm actually impressed, by how wrong of a move you've just played."

"say, wouldn't you guys be interested for a sparring session? i'll be delighted to fight you all at the same time to enhance my combative capabilities. no? are you sure? okay, the offer's still on the table you know. and don't think i'm letting you all off so easily."

"love, are you alright? did they hurt you? if they did then i'll be sure to give them the same pain as they did to you. but worse. hm? no? okay, if you insist."

"moving on, let's go home shall we? the more i think about those creeps, the more i'm itching to grab my blades and hunt them down. oh! no, it's nothing. let's move, wouldn't want to stay out for too long."

we all know that he'll definitely end them

the thing is, he was right next to you when it happened and it's almost as if those asshats were blind!!!

blinded by his beauty ig

well, those assholes should sleep with one eye open every night now that tartaglia has seen them.

thoma

"excuse me, my partner and i are in a hurry. we have important business to attend to and we wouldn't want to be late."

"we won't take up the rest of your time, so please, if you'll excuse us."

"phew, that was rough. i didn't like how they were treating you, so i wanted to help you out. oh nonono, there's no need to thank me! as your boyfriend, it's my job to make sure that you're safe and happy at all times!"

"to get your mind off of what happened, i'll cook dinner for you tonight. any preferences? favorites? recipes? ill be sure to write them down!"

thoma based

instead of staying and insulting them, he just makes up an excuse to leave! it saves less time!!

..which shunned the creeps to bits. because you see, to me, people who are as kindhearted as thoma are equivalent to sunshine. and by sunshine i mean blindingly bright.

too nice and polite to the point the creeps are blind and deaf, you get what i mean?

kaeya

"well, well, well, how amusing of you all to act in such a way while i'm here. clearly you weren't cautious about your surroundings nor able to understand the differences between common courtesy and disrespect."

"how do i think so? from what you were displaying a few seconds ago, there's an obvious answer to that. it's allill written in your face. uneasiness. just like my partner."

"run along now, before your feet will run cold."

"ah, please, spare me the thanks. i only did what i had to do. as long as you're safe, that's all that matters to me. now then, allow me to treat you to dinner. it's all on me~"

honestly i got very lost in writing kaya's portion despite listening to his voicelines for like 2-3 times :,)

but, what i can conclude from this is that he'll be the sly bro he usually is with people

except in here, it's a bit different. his words are like that of a snake, wrapping around its prey.

makes sense, because kaeya doesn't stand people who make his s/o uncomfortable. if he scares them off or anything, then so be it. anything to keep you safe.

#✏️ lume writes #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #itto x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #ayato x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #thoma x reader #kaeya x reader #itto fluff #diluc fluff #zhongli fluff #tartaglia fluff #thoma fluff #kaeya fluff

[benedictscanvas]

Nobody on the BAU team believes Jack Hotchner when he says his father’s new girlfriend is rich and famous. Then they meet her.

A theoretical opening to an Aaron Hotchner x f1 reader if you’re interested, but also no pressure if you don’t vibe with it. I don’t want anything too specific, just happy chosen family shenanigans. Sending all the love to you 💛💛

cute cute cute. as i'm writing this i'm pretty sure i've seen this type of thing before but i cannot remember for the life of me who wrote it! so pls let me know if anyone knows and i'll tag them. sending you all the love back anon <3 || 1.5k words, fem!reader

"Jack, come on man! Has your dad put you up to this?"

"No!" the boy insists, then lowers his voice again, "Dad told me not to tell you, but I couldn't help it."

Derek feels his chest swell with pride until he remembers what Jack's trying to convince him. He narrows his eyes at him again.

"Dave then? Trying to pull one over on me? Just because I switched out his-"

"Derek! I'm telling you the truth. I even have proof," Jack said, eyebrows raised, waiting for Derek to take the bait. His proof was poor at best, but he needed to talk to someone about this.

"Go ahead, kiddo."

Jack pulled out his phone, tapping furiously. Derek waited impatiently, even though he was an inch more intrigued than he had been 30 seconds ago.

When Jack showed him the blurriest photo in existence, that hope was snuffed out immediately.

"Okay, I'm leaving."

Jack grabbed at Derek's arm to make him stay, let him explain and it was enough to catch the attention of the rest of the BAU at their desks. Hotch was in his office, oblivious to the scene, one he would have put a stop to before it started.

"What's Morgan done this time?" JJ asked, making her way over with a smirk. Spence and Emily were listening from their desks too and before Jack could answer, Derek was already speaking.

"No no no, you're not blaming this one on me. Jack's claiming our very own Hotch is dating the Y/N Y/L/N. You know, she's an actress?"

Emily gasped.

"She's not just an actress, she's the actress, thank you Derek. I worship that woman."

"She's pretty amazing," Spencer added.

"Derek," Jack practically whined, "Dad's gonna kill me. I told you in secret!"

"Okay, but you're not serious Jack."

"You can't be."

"I am! So serious. So so serious that you all have to swear you're not gonna tell my dad about this conversation," Jack said, and upon seeing the amused looks of the people that were practically family, he glared at them, "Swear!"

"I swear, Jack," Spencer took pity on him first, but soon JJ and Emily did too, seeing the flush that had travelled up the young boy's neck. He may have grown a lot in his first few years of being a teenager but he kept the same tells that they could all read. Even Derek.

"Alright, alright, I swear too. But when I find out what you're trying to pull, I'm gonna pull something right back. You'll never see it coming, kid."

"Sounds like fighting talk, Jack, you need me to handle this for you?" came a teasing voice, silky smooth, from behind the group. Jack was the only one facing your way, and his face lit up at the sight of you. He went to stand at your side as the rest of them turned to see you in all your glory, smiling at them with that grin that they'd all seen so many times before.

On red carpets. Or movie theatre screens. Never in their office.

"Nah, you're alright Y/N," Jack said, greeting you with a brief but intricate handshake the others couldn't catch in time, "This is Derek, you've heard so much about, and he doesn't believe you're dating my dad."

"Ah, Derek Morgan," you said, enjoying the shock on his face as you said his full name, "You're right to be skeptical, you know. This one ate the last of my cereal this morning, though he swears it wasn't him."

Jack retorts instantly and just like that, the two of you have entered easy banter that the others can't help but sit and stare at. The conversation stops short when Jack bursts out in raucous laughter and you're grinning again, but you quickly turn back to the others.

"I'm so sorry," you say, and it's genuine now without the playful edge, "To show up like this, unannounced, and not even introduce myself. When I practiced this in my head, just know I blew you all away with my first impression."

They all rewarded you with a chuckle and it was enough to put you more at ease.

"I don't think you really need to introduce-"

"Y/N?"

Emily was cut off by another voice behind the group, this time one they knew well from their day to day lives. When they turned, comically in time with one another, they found Hotch at the top of the stairs, brow furrowed as he took the steps downward and walked towards them all.

Or, more accurately, towards you.

"I thought we were meeting you there?" he asked, voice low once he reached you and getting lower still as he murmured, "You don't have to do this, you know."

"I know. I want to," you assure him, eyes all sparkle as you look at him and reach out to briefly squeeze his arm, "Promise."

He nods once, like he's made up his mind. When he turns to the others, he's almost smiling. Spencer finds it a little eerie.

"Everyone, this is Y/N Y/L/N. My-" he stops short, and doesn't realise the entirety of his team is revelling in him being so flustered, "We're seeing each other."

"I'm his girlfriend," you supply, shaking your head at Hotch but you can't keep the smile from your face, "He just hates saying it."

"No," he grinds out, looking at you with nothing but fondness despite his warning tone, "It just doesn't cut it. It's not enough."

"What would you prefer?" Derek butts in, "Your significant other? Life partner? Lover?"

"Enough. She's important to me, let's leave it at that, shall we?"

Derek's suggestions had made you chuckle but Hotch's assertion had made you positively beam. JJ could read it all over her face. She'd moved past being starstruck and into being incredibly happy for Hotch.

"Jack I think we all owe you an apology man," Derek began, then winced and corrected himself when Emily elbowed him right in the ribs, "And especially me. I really thought you were kidding me."

"Jack, you told them?"

Hotch's voice is still stern, but this time directed towards his son. Derek winces again, knowing he's put his foot in his mouth as Jack's shoulders slump. Still glowing, you come to his rescue.

"Oh, Aaron, he's just happy for you," you say placatingly, a hand at his back, a reassurance, before you turn to the team, "It was me who wanted to keep this quiet, not Aaron. I was trying to protect him from my life, but I think I kept it up a little too long. That's why I'm here."

Spencer thinks Hotch might be glowing too. You, you're all ethereal anyway, and there's the essence of something angelic about you, but you seem to have pulled Hotch into your orbit. He's definitely smiling now, just a little. Spencer is trying not to frown at the difference of it all.

"You don't mind that I told them?"

"Not even a bit, Jackaroo," you chuckle when he rolls his eyes fondly at the nickname, "Been wanting to show your dad off for an awful long time, really."

It's cloying, really, the way you hang onto his forearm as you say it, but he's drinking up every drop you send his way. He even goes as far as to rest a hand on your own arm in return, and keeps you close.

"Other way round, sweetheart," he mutters, in some vain hope only you will hear him. He doesn't get his wish. As soon as somebody sighs wistfully, he's stiff again, back straight, "But I think we've shown off enough for one day. Lunch?"

Jack nods enthusiastically, still seeming relieved that you've helped him avoid any scolding, not that Hotch is very good at that, surprisingly. You nod too, sending a last sweet smile to the whole team and insisting that now they've met you, they won't be able to get rid of you. Another round of chuckles.

Emily insists they won't want to get rid of you and she's a little too eager. A little too superfan. If you notice, you don't show it, only saying goodbye to her with an extra warm hug that she can't shake off.

The three of you head off, you still hanging off Hotch's arm, your cheek now smushed against his shoulder. But he's silent, and you're blabbering away with Jack again, more laughter. When they get into the elevator and Derek cranes his head, he can see the real smile on Hotch's face and he gets a little choked up.

"Well shit," he says to the others, coughing it away, "That's me not getting any real work done today."

"You can say that again," somebody says, and soon they've devolved into sitting on desks and gossiping right into the afternoon.

When Dave and Penelope trudge back in after their early lunch to the commotion of everyone's reactions after you'd left, Dave simply asks them how they didn't know sooner. They're not surprised.

And if Penelope cries a little at the thought of just missing you, you'll never know. She has the others sworn to secrecy.

(hotch doesn't return at all)

if you'd like to request something, please do so here! i'd love to hear from you sunflower <3

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner oneshot #hotch #hotch fluff #hotch oneshot #hotch imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds oneshot

[spiceofvy]

Hello 🤗 can I pls request BTS headcanons where they have a crush on a non celebrity female reader who is their friend? Thank you ❤️😊

BTS - Having a crush on a friend

a/n: thank you so much for requesting! I had so much fun writing somethin sweet and fluffy like this! I hope you enjoy it too!

cws: written with a fem!reader in mind but no gendered terms used, sfw, fluffy, nothing else to tag, this is really just wholesome and cute

Seokjin: This crush will be no secret. He hits on you constantly. All the bad flirting, but he is pretty so he gets away with it. This also includes flowers, fancy food and random trips to the beach. You choose the music of course. Everyone always assumes that you are already a couple, when in reality he is still trying to get you to go out with him. And if you can't tell from all his flirting he will just give it to you directly. "Can't you tell that I've been trying to get you to go out with me?"

Yoongi: He is very much in control of his feelings, but his actions speak so loudly. He's always by your side. Whenever you come over he has your favorite food prepared for you. He gets really flustered whenever someone calls him out on it, blushing and telling them off. But he probably won't confess to you himself, someone else drops it by accident and he gives up with damage control "Yeah he's right y/n… I am in love with you"

Hoseok: This man hypes you up. You go shopping together? So many compliments. You join him in the studio? He treats you like the best dancer in the world. He also takes you with him on every vacation he gets offered. No matter if it's fashion shows or trips for music recordings, you are everywhere with him. Confessing to you will not be an active choice on his side but the end of a long ramble of his. "You know, that's why I think I love you so much. Wait…"

Namjoon: Oh he knows everything about you. But not in a creepy way. He read all your favorite books, so he can discuss them with you later. Knows your favorite artists, and has a perfect playlist for you, no matter your mood. Sends you so much art he likes, paintings, poetry, all of it. He just loves to share his life with you. There will be no confession, more you calling him out why he sent you like 6 love poems in one night "Ah… I guess it was kinda obvious…"

Jimin: You stay his cute little secret. No one gets to look at you. You are his best friend and only his. No matter how often the others ask to meet you. He will keep you for himself. So his confession is also very private. Just the two of you in his apartment, he got you takeout and your favorite playlist is playing in the background. When he takes your hand and quietly whispers to you. "I just want to tell you, that I have been in love with you for so long."

Taehyung: No but why do I think that he talks with Yeontan about you? Because he definetly does. Whenever he comes home from your place he immediately falls into a quick ramble about you, gushing about you smiling widely. So much that Yeontan probably reacts to your name and of course you are over a lot so he also gets really excited to see you. Taehyung will confess to you unintentionally "You know, I think Yeontan is also in love with you"

Jungkook: This man can not hide his crushes to save his life. It will be so obvious. Whenever he sees you he has the brightest smile, being so excited to spent time with you. He introduces you to all his friends, and if anyone ever says something wrong about you or looks at you weirdly he gets really defensive. He confesses to you with a big gesture. "What? No this is not too much! This is just enough to show how much I love you!"

#bts headcanon #bts #bts fluff #bts x reader #seokjin x reader #seokjin #jin x reader #jin #yoongi x reader #yoongi #suga x reader #suga #hoseok x reader #hoseok #jhope x reader #jhope #namjoon x reader #namjoon #rm x reader #rm #jimin x reader #jimin #taehyung x reader #taehyung #v #v x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook #gender neutral reader #headcanon

[halsinsheart]

a/n: welcome to kinkmas day 1 aka me delving back into writing.

summary: halsin & reader get distracted while mushroom foraging.

tags: NSFW MDNI, size difference, gn!reader, pet names (love, little one, songbird)

wc: ~1.8k

kinkmas masterlist || reblogs > likes

“Woah, look at that one there!” You pointed to a unique shape poking out from the rotting wood of a felled birch, garnering the attention of your large companion who chuckled softly at your childlike fascination.

“Some Purple Jellydisc; inedible but interesting to look at nonetheless.” Halsin crouched down next to you, his expression equally as captivated by the fungi as yours was.

Food rations in the camp were stable at the moment, but considering how your party seemed to grow and with inclement weather looming on the horizon, you coaxed Halsin into foraging with you. However, coaxing might have been an overstatement because the druid all but jumped up from his spot where he was whittling in favor of joining you on your excursion. You were a decent distance into the forest now with a basket on your arm that was slow to fill, but in your defense, you were understandably distracted.

Halsin stood sturdy against the incoming storm’s wind, a pleasant buffer between you and the elements. It was also the most opportune moment for you to admire just how broad he was while your mind wandered with thoughts of him. The irony of the man built like a tree worshipping the Oak Father wasn’t lost on you, although you wondered exactly what type of oak he would be. Perhaps a Southen Live, with its wide expanse and evergreen foliage? Or maybe the Bur with its massive heights and impressive longevity?

“Ah, here we are- Lion’s Mane! Edible and full of flavor.” Halsin’s deep voice shook you from your rambling thoughts and as you took in the mushroom he was slicing, it was your turn to laugh.

“They really know how to appropriately name these guys. Shame that Turkey Tail isn't edible, it’d be funny to serve it with actual turkey. Hey, wait, there’s Old-Man-of-the-Woods!” You scrambled over one of the broken trunks in front of you to squat down in front of the fungi and cut the fruiting body off before placing it into the basket with the others.

“I’ve been here the entire time, little one, ripe for your harvesting.” The joke was delivered with his usual charming smile as he held his arms out in a gesturing manner towards himself.

Thoughts faltered within your head for a moment as you processed his words and tried to grapple for a response that didn’t make you sound like an immature teenager. “Ripe for my harvesting, yeah? If we don’t find too many more edible things I might have to take you up on that offer.”

“Of course, I'd hate to see you starve. By all means, consume me, little songbird.” His voice lowered at the same time he leaned in closer while his stance widened and his chest puffed outwards, only making him appear larger.

Swallowing the air stuck in your throat, you braced yourself on the tree behind you and looked up into the hazel irises of the druid. The pet name nearly made you whimper as he loomed over you, but his words gave you confidence. You would consume him wholly and entirely. Lips met in a fevered kiss and your hands cupped his face gently while his own covered a wide expanse over your hips, squeezing ever so slightly. Again and again, you kissed until you were gasping for air, leaning your head back to obtain some oxygen, yet Halsin persisted with kisses along your exposed neck.

“Breathtaking.” He whispered against your skin while his hands massaged your ass before he plucked you off the ground.

A surprised squeal of excitement left you as you clamored to hold onto him while you were lifted several feet off the ground. Finally, at eye level, you took advantage and kissed him again, reveling in the decadent noise that left his lips when your hands tugged at his hair. After a couple more tugs, his hair fell from its half-bun to frame his face and tickle at your cheeks. Your legs wrapped around his thick torso, though you didn’t have a chance of crossing your ankles around his back, your legs simply too short and his body far too wide. 

Traveling your hands down his neck to his torso, you pulled at his tunic until the front laces came loose. Halsin shuffled you around in his arms like a mere burlap sack so he could shrug his shirt off, while you were left to ogle at his combined balance and strength until he brought you back to him. His warm chest was now bared to you and his hands made quick work of your shirt, being mindful not to tear it while he discarded it. When your bare skin met, it felt like a jolt of electricity coursed through you and ultimately ended as a pulse to your core.

“Please,” your voice wavered as you pleaded with him, tugging at his hair to no avail in an attempt to remove him from the sensitive part of your neck, only earning a breathy chuckle before he responded.

“Please what, my love? Share with me your fantasies and I’ll make them a reality,” his breath fanned across your neck as he relished in your scent, hands caressing up and down your back while his eyes closed.

A desperate whine left you when you realized he was making you voice your desires out loud, still, you were desperate enough to obey the demand, “Please, touch me more. I want all of you.”

“I’d love nothing more,” his last words were nearly a growl, reverberating down through your bones and back.

In one swift motion, you were laid in a soft patch of white clover that embraced you as gently as the druid hovering over you did. Your limbs splayed out as they welcomed the caresses from both plant and druid, the latter of which ever so slowly slid your bottoms off until they were discarded to the side. Halsin sat back on his haunches, fingertips still ghosting your skin while he simply admired the view of you splayed out just for him.

A shiver ran down your spine at the teasing sensation and you parted your legs in a silent beckon for him. Never one to ignore the call of nature’s desires, especially ones that concern your desires, Halsin obeyed. His movements were skilled and experienced, much more than that, he listened. Every movement, every noise, and every twitch you gave told him everything he needed to know about how you were feeling and what you needed from him. 

So much so, that it didn’t take long for you to be drowned in ecstasy not just once or twice, but until your body movements were beyond your control and any attempt you made to quiet your noises was futile. Only by the grace of the gods were you finally able to beg for him to stop, and even then he took you over the edge one more time.

“You always taste divine, I can’t quite help myself,” he chuckled under his breath as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “but now you’re more than ready for me, little one. And I intend to give you all of me.”

“Ha, I’d expect nothing less,” you responded breathlessly, still recovering from the praise his mouth and fingers gave you, trying to ignore the way he used your words from earlier against you now. 

Sweet kisses were peppered across your face as Halsin slowly slid inside of you, making sure to pause every time one of your small hands squeezed at his bicep. Your mind melted as he pushed deeper inside of you, each additional inch making your eyes roll back. The stretch burned yet the way his heavy hands massaged your hips emboldened you to take more.

Once his tip reached the deepest part of you, he pulled away from leaning over you to down at where you were joined and back up at you, “Well, not quite all of me, though I’m sure we can improve that.”

“Sh-Shut up,” you mumbled while your face heated with embarrassment at his words and your lower half relaxed in anticipation of what was to come.

“Fair enough. So long as you sing for me, my love,” his lips pressed kisses into your hands before holding them to his heart and leaning down once more to shield your smaller form from the rest of the world, his forearms resting in the clovers next to your head.

Nodding, you both agreed to his request and gave him the okay to start moving. He kissed you one more time before giving a testing thrust, after seeing you adjusted to that alright, he slowly picked up a rhythm as smooth as the flowing river. You weren’t new to this, weren’t new to him, you knew what to expect. And yet, when he put his efforts into chasing your high, you found yourself gasping and hands flying to hold onto his shoulders for stability.

The sounds of the daily nature activities didn’t stand a chance at drowning out the noises that resulted from your coupling. You only hoped you were far enough away from camp to avoid the walk of shame, though shame was far from any emotion you had over this. The number of times your pleasure crested was impossible to count while in your current mind state, with some ebbing right into another high.

Halsin was familiar with your body inside and out, and he could see the focus leaving your eyes as your mind went white from the overload of pleasure. His words of praise and sweet promises kept you grounded long enough for you both to worship and relish in the other’s body for one last, deliciously sweet high.

Heavy breaths mingled as your foreheads rested against each other and Halsin’s movements ceased except for the adoring caress of his hands that rubbed back and forth over your thighs. As your lucid thoughts returned to you, a smile spread across your face and your own hands reached out to brush a piece of hair from his eyes.

Decadent bliss filled the small clearing that you shared as pure unfiltered adoration radiated off of one of you flowing into the other and returned tenfold. Within this solace, where the forest surrounded you and hid your tryst away from the rest of the world, you longed for an eternity more of sharing your life with the large druid, whatever may come.

Whatever may come. Including the vampire elf’s near-tantrum when you returned to camp after many hours with less than adequate storage provisions.

©halsinsheart ~{2024}~ you do not have permission modify, copy, repost, or enter works into AI.

#🍄{my creations}🐻 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin silverbough #halsin smut #size difference #x reader #gn reader #🥀kiss me once queue me twice #kinkmas

[soft-girl-musings]

Perks of Being a Wallflower

Jake Lockley x plus size fem!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: rated T for thirsty jake, author does not dance but saw it on the tv once (i'm mostly kidding), mustachioed jake jumpscare (tagging for the haters), no use of Y/N

wc: 1.9k

fic summary: For Jake, a night on the town means sticking to the background, listening for signs of trouble. That all changes when he sees you at the dance hall.

A/N: still on the jake train and I am making it everyone's problem. just wanted to preface by saying, as a curvy girlie, i recognize that plus size folk are not a monolith. so everything in this fic is based on my own experience, etc. enjoy!

----------

Jake likes to keep his intel hotspots in rotation. 

Mondays and Wednesdays he'll head to the diner after a day in the cab, refueling and checking in with his network.

Tuesdays and Thursdays he'll hit the bars. Weekends are mostly for driving.

But Fridays? Fridays are for dancing.

Jake's guilty pleasure is scoping out the dance hall. The clubs have their appeal, but there's something timeless about the hole in the wall he’d discovered a while back. Nothing special, just a cozy ballroom with a bar, tables lifted on a platform framing ¾ of the room and turning the dance floor into an inverse stage.

Tonight he nurses a beer in the corner, listening to a couple of seedy characters describe some suspicious activity at a warehouse he'd been tailing. But he hasn't caught much of their conversation. Truth be told, he's a bit distracted tonight.

Because of you.

He'd seen you come in with four other people, two couples by the look of it. He'd been immediately taken by you: while some patrons came to dance in jeans and t-shirts, you'd dressed to impress. He'd shamelessly raked his eyes over your form, generous curves hugged by the bodice of your dress that trailed down over your ample hips. You walked with a timid sway, the movement inevitable even as you drew your arms about yourself, settling into your seat with care at a table clear across the room from him.

As much as he's tried to fight it, his attention always drifts back to you: poised and pretty, eyes scanning the room as one couple, then another leaves you for the Latin-dance-of-the-week group lesson hosted like clockwork every Friday. The instructor drones on, but Jake is zeroed in on you: all softness and warmth, criminally tucked away from the rest of the fun.

The warehouse can wait.

__________

You don’t consider yourself the kind of girl someone crosses the room for.

That’s probably why you don’t notice the determined stranger making his way across the crowded dance floor, eyes trained on you as he adjusts his cap with a smirk.

You’re taking another sip of your overpriced cocktail when you hear an unfamiliar voice below you.

“Not a fan of the rumba?”

You finally register the man standing by the corner of your table. He’s handsome, you have to admit, his dark features highlighting kind brown eyes, creased from his almost too-eager smile. When you realize he’s talking to you, your words are still slow to come out.

But he doesn’t miss a beat. “It’s the mustache, isn’t it?” He grins sheepishly, dragging a palm across his lower face. “Knew it’d skeeve some people out, but I thought I’d give it a go.”

“No,” you say too quickly for your own liking, “It’s, ah– nice. Suits you.”

You’re met with a cheeky grin as he steps closer, eyes half-lidded as he leans in. “I’m Jake. Nice to meet a friendly face.”

You eye him warily, wondering what his angle could be. A quick glance around the room confirms there’s only so many unattached women surrounding the dance floor. You sigh internally. The game is always the same: keep them entertained until the girls they really want to talk to come back from the bar, or the bathroom, or stray just far enough from the guys they arrived with.

Might as well play along. 

Settling back into your seat, you tell him your name. His grin widens as he echoes it with something bordering reverence, and you bite your cheek to keep from smiling too wide.

Jake props one elbow on the table, looking up at you. Seems like he’s not going anywhere for a while.

“I gotta know– you not a fan of the rumba?”  He asks again, staring up at you dreamily. You don't catch it, your eyes flitting between him and the dance floor. The lesson is over, and couples spread out to dance independently.

“Hm? Oh, um– it’s alright,” you say with a shrug, arms wrapping around your middle again. “Just not a dancing night for me.” 

Truth be told, it’s been ages since anyone’s invited you to dance. You’ve contented yourself with watching, although something deep inside aches for someone to ask you to–

"Dance with me."

You raise an eyebrow, struck by his bluntness. "I'm sorry?"

He leans in, both arms now resting on the table. "Dance with me, doll." His grin widens as he drinks you in. Your cheeks heat under his gaze, and you almost believe the admiration behind his eyes.

You press your lips together and look back to the crowd. "No thanks."

"I promise I don't bite," he teases, baring his teeth for effect. The slight gap in his smile catches your eye and you look away again. He's definitely a charmer.

"I…" you trail off, searching for an excuse but find you're hesitant to give it. 

Your self-sabotaging streak wins out. "Sorry, I have to keep the table for my friends." You nod toward the couples you came with, each person settled in the arms of their partner as they stumble through the rumba on their own. Your frown deepens; it does look fun.

Jake hums and props his head on one hand. "Don't tell me you only tagged along to watch their purses? Not the best of friends," he adds, critique mixed with sympathy.

You almost tell him that this wasn't the plan, you were meant to have a date tonight. A date who suddenly couldn't make it once your friend had caved and sent him a picture of you– a snapshot you'd both hoped wouldn't "fatfish" but was flattering enough to entice him to commit. Clearly he didn't.

You consider telling him everything, so lost in thought you don't realize he's been saying your name. He calls you once more, and you snap back to the present, tearing your eyes away from the dance floor.

"Sorry, what was that?"

As you speak, Jake walks around the table until he's closer to your side. He holds out his hand.

"C'mon, one dance." He asks again, angling his head to catch your eye. "Please?"

The last of your resolve absolutely crumbles at the way his voice softens with every word. As if you have something he wants. As if you could reject him and make it sting. 

Oh, what the hell.

"...Alright. One dance." 

You didn't think he could smile any wider, but he does– tossing his cap onto the table and trailing a hand through his thick black curls, he's all crow's feet and smile lines as you accept his hand.

Jake weaves between dancing pairs with you in tow, until you reach the middle of the floor. Your eyes dart around at the couples surrounding you, but a gentle touch under your chin brings your attention back to him.

"Just focus on me, yeah?" His voice is still soft, keeping you grounded in the eye of the busy dance floor. You nod, letting out a shaky breath.

"Right, so–" Jake clasps your right hand and raises it to chin level. He moves your left hand to cradle his shoulder, and places his right hand on your shoulder blade. It takes everything in him not to squeeze the flesh under his palm; you're just as warm and soft as he'd thought you'd be.

He talks you through the basics, how to time your steps and the flow of each movement. Every so often, he’ll lift your chin again, since you keep looking at your feet to keep up.

You catch on quicker than you’d expected. Even though your cheeks are blazing, you feel yourself loosen up– your body relaxing, your hips swaying a bit more freely. 

Jake can tell: he’s never short of praise and encouragement, and has to remember his own advice to stop himself from watching your hips the whole time.

"Alright," he warns, "here's something a little tricky-"

As soon as you feel his hand flex, you know what to do. You step out and deftly spin under his arm, hips swaying with a cheeky flourish for effect.

Jake barks a laugh of surprise, arms settling back into place as you complete the step.

You let yourself crack a smile. “You third wheel enough of these dance lessons, you’re bound to pick some things up.”

“No kidding,” he affirms, resuming an easy rhythm for you both. You’d think he was born with that grin on his face, the way it hasn’t faltered since he introduced himself.

One song bleeds into another, but neither of you notice. Instead, you draw closer together, your frame more relaxed and your heart racing. With every beat, you fight back the budding intoxication of the moment. Because this can't be real; this can't be something that lasts. No matter how many praises he showers, winks he offers, or lingering brushes against your hips, shoulders, seemingly anywhere he can touch you, you know you won't be hearing from Jake once you leave this dance floor. That's how this always goes down.

The song ends and you both slow to a stop. Slightly breathless, your hands trail up to Jake’s shoulders, thumbs tracing the fabric there as you work up the courage to ask one last question.

"So… is this the part where you go back to your friends and tally up who got the big girl to believe you were interested?"

Jake's brows knit together, his hands pressed to your shoulder blades to hold you steady. "I don't-"

"Oh please, you don't have to pretend. I survived high school, I can take it." You smirk, worrying your lip to keep your disappointment at bay. This was a nice fantasy, but you know how this ends.

The band starts to play a slower tune, and his eyes meet yours. In a flash of flexed arms and footwork, you’re suddenly looking up at him, body tilted back as he dips you. A cheeky grin is plastered on his flushed features.

"Doll, you misunderstand." He draws you back up, bringing you cheek to cheek as the stubble of his warm face scratches your skin. He continues, voice low and close to your ear:

"We're dancin' because it'd be criminal to leave such a pretty wallflower unplucked all night." He starts to sway in time to the music, still holding you. An invitation to stay, to do this all again.

You lean back; his rapt attention is trained on you like before, the warmth in his brown eyes seeping into your cheeks. Your face blossoms into the widest smile, your soft angles catching the light and making you look downright radiant. 

"That's… so corny." And you laugh, a rich, uninhibited sound pouring from your lips until tears nearly spill down your cheeks. 

Jake takes it all in– the vision that you are. His hand trails down to the softness at the small of your back. The way you quake from laughter sends a thrill up his spine, and he chuckles in turn. If he wasn’t holding you, he swears he’d be a little weak in the knees.

You rest your forehead against his shoulder as you calm down. “What’s one more dance?” You breathe, letting yourself move in time with the music.

Jake bites his lip and nods, taking your hand again. “Thought you’d never ask, doll.”

With a flick of the wrist he spins you out, eliciting another laugh from you as he pulls you back in.

The warehouse can definitely wait: his night's going to be spent drawing that sweet sound from your lips as long as you'll let him.

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A/N: when I say "brainrot," i mean i couldn't sleep until i set this gd thing to publish (don't ask me what time)

huge shoutout to @hon3yboy @chrissymodi-frost and @mrsnadeem for letting me ramble in your DMs about dancer!Jake, all my love my darlings <3

addtl tag list: @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi

tysm for reading!

#my works #btw formatting this on desktop is making my eyes hurt idk how y'all do it #moon knight #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley/reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley/fem!reader #jake lockley x plus size!reader #jake lockley/plus size!reader #jake lockley fluff #moon knight fluff