#and it’s just like. it doesn’t MATTER!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

comfortless · 24 hours

Note

dog hybrid recruit König thots??

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. more loner x loner because it is a treat for me. fem (afab) reader. König is a man just with ears and a tail. vague smut.

He’s the one that was never picked.

So maybe you’re too busy for a puppy hybrid, but maybe you’re a bit too lonely for an empty apartment. You don’t have the space for a big, excitable dog. The cats and bunnies are in high demand, too, there’s no shot of you adopting one of the cute, softer things within your budget. So you settle for a dog. The only dog left at the shelter.

His papers state that he comes from Austria, aged twenty-five and never been put into an actual home before. He’s endured some rigorous military training: scenting, tracking, breaking down thick doors with only a shoulder and an efficient push. A hunter through and through. Then, following his merits: erratic, jumpy, impulsive, and more than a little aggressive.

This dog doesn’t growl, only bites.

The paper sits crumpled in your hands as you eye the dimly lit hallway to your left. Posters of information line the beige walls to either side, some with photos of proud kitties and dogs, hand-in-hand with their companions and cheery phrases printed above in a bright, yellow cursive.

If anything, those are the ones that give you the final push to adopt this unloved, discarded experimental soldier. He’s only been given this one very last chance before… You would rather not think of what comes if you’re to turn away and leave him to rot and wither here. It must have happened a dozen times already: ambitious families looking for a more intriguing addition only to lock eyes with this pitiful thing and shake their heads ‘no’ for him to be put on death row like this.

“He’s scary,” the clerk reminds you once you’re finally led down the hall to the tiny room your new pet— no, friend, must be kept in. It was easy to think of them as something else sometimes. Animal instincts as prevalent as their claws, teeth, and fuzzy little ears. But you didn’t need a pet, there were an abundance of shops for those. You needed a good soul to spill your guts to and maybe pet from time to time.

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

The poor thing is locked away to fester in what more closely resembles a cell than anything resembling a home. A steel door with a thin, narrow gap in the middle like a peephole keeps him locked in tight. Peering through that narrow gap, you only then seem to realize just what an impulsive decision you’re making.

König is exactly what the clerk said, continues to say next to you as she searches for the correct key on the ring. He’s bigger than any other hybrid you’ve seen before, built narrow at the waist but broad and deadly where it matters most; arms like narrow trees and thighs larger than your head, all muscle and intimidation, even with the cute, perky ears peeking out of the top of his helmet. He was definitely used for guarding and killing, and how a man his stature could even begin to fail that was unknown to you. Not that it was necessary. At most, he may need to shoo a scuttling pest out of the front door and put away a dish or two.

When the door swings open, the clerk offers a hesitant nod before dismissing herself back down the hall, and you’re left stood with a pair of blue eyes locked directly onto you.

König assesses with a tilt of his head and a slow ascent to his feet. He’s clad in layers of black, an empty vest where magazines or grenades must have been in place prior. Hell if you knew. He should have been given a fresh change of clothes after being discharged and sent to this place. A proper bed, too, considering the only furniture in this barren place seemed to be a cot that could never hope to hold him.

If not for the swaying of his tail, you might even find yourself nervous, but he does well to try and look approachable, even greets you with a thickly accented tongue beneath that hood. A simple, “Hallo.”

“I’ve adopted you,” you explain, and it sounds ridiculous. You can’t just adopt a full-grown man. Maybe a puppy or some hybrid child, never a man better suited for a gladiator pit than a home. “I mean that… if you want to come home with me, you can.”

He gives you a huff, a burst of breath that pushes the hood out from his face and a near imperceptible roll of his eyes as a step is taken toward you. It must sound stupid, even to him, but the wiry tail at his back does not cease its wagging. No matter how stern the glimpses of his face seem to look and how alarming his size may be, he’s nothing but an eager pup it seemed.

“Richtig… Then let’s go.”

Life with your big soldier turns out to be remarkably easy.

The first few weeks are dedicated to stoking up some sort of bond and rationing out chores. Simple tasks to see how he adapts, and small rewards in the form of pets along the velvety fur of his ears and scratches beneath his chin. The walks with you seem to be his favorite and tend to be long, but he remains right at your side the entire way. The only barking to be heard comes from nosy passersby that warn you to keep your beast on a leash, but you let him be reasoning that it wouldn’t do you any good at all. Your strength was that of a tiny rabbit’s by comparison.

König is clean enough from his prior military training and does as you ask without complaint. Even things you don’t request, such as your laundry are taken care of before you ever even return from work. He’s overbearing on those evenings, when you’ve been apart and he sates himself drunk on the scent of your perfume still clinging to the collar of an old sweater. Excitable and sweet, though, when he curls at your side while some movie plays on the television screen.

It amazes you how easily he’s shifted from stiff to adoring in a matter of days, but it’s rare to have a moment to yourself now. The hybrid is insistent on pulling you up into his lap when you’re curled on the couch, or rushing behind to hoist you up and pin you between an expanse of chest and the kitchen counter with drooly licks against the side of your neck and cheek. Biting, too. You try your best to bully that out of him, flicking at his ears or shoving against his face, but there’s always a mark left behind.

When a coworker gives you a mischievous grin and asks if there’s a new man in your life at the sight of a purplish bruise against your throat, that is when you decide that a collar may actually be nice. Weave your fingers between leather and skin and give König a sharp tug when he gets too rowdy, maybe that would teach him. Spray bottles and warnings spoken through giggles just aren’t enough.

You find one that you think might fit at a shop specializing in hybrid needs. It’s thick and well-made, a black leather hold to match that big scary demeanor that he tries his best to uphold. The cutesy silver bell attached to it is just a bonus. At least you would hear him coming the next time he insisted on peppering you in kisses with his tail a blur behind him.

He greets you at the door as always, unlocks it for you and pulls it open before you ever even make it to the top of the landing. It’s cute how giddy he seems each day when you return, how he doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to you with his hands at his sides, his own silent request for a hug or some form of affection whilst staring down at you and mumbling a “hallo” like the most awkward gentleman in the entire world.

“I got you a present,” you excitedly tell him instead of blessing him with your usual embrace, lifting up the little gift bag with a smile.

When the collar is retrieved from the bag by a massive hand, König does not mirror your enthusiasm. Any light in the placid blue of his eyes seems to extinguish, smothered and fizzled out to pave way for a look of the purest disdain. He rolls the leather between both palms, only then regarding you with as a heavy sigh stirs up from his chest to whistle past the open mouth beneath the hood.

Maybe he would have preferred something with spikes. Something heavy and intimidating with a tag that read “FUCK YOU” in red, painted letters.

“I don’t wear collars,” he finally says, flatly.

Or maybe a muzzle would have been best…

“You do now, big guy,” you challenge with an airy laugh, slipping past him to cross into your home. Tidy as ever, he’s been working today it seemed. The bulb in the living room has been replaced, a few pieces of furniture rearranged. It all just looks… cozy. More habitable now that someone else lives here too.

König follows you inside with his head lowered and tail pushed between his thighs. The collar rests in one hand, fingers curled over it so tightly it almost seemed he wished the damned thing to dissipate into dust.

“Nein. I won’t wear it.” The door is locked behind him. It’s the first time he’s refused you anything. Even cleaning up around the kitchen wasn’t met with a rejection. It’s odd, almost uncharacteristic for him.

“I just thought…” You would want to be mine. Properly. With a nice symbol of it right around his neck, with a sturdy leash to lead him by, with…

Any thought in your head puffs into a plume of smoke back there behind your eyes when you feel two hands grasp at your shoulders, push you back towards the wall to hold you there. Hugging, lifting, cuddling up against, even licking… those things were commonplace. This was foreign and surprisingly rough; there’s no give to his hold, no room to even try to move away as his head lowers to stare you straight in the eyes.

“I killed my last handler.”

“Did you…?”

“Ja.”

That confession should have sent icy dread to the pit of your stomach, should have spurred you to claw and kick and bite. Surely the shelter would have known, could have warned you too. That would have spared you from looking like a terrified little rabbit now, yet a part of you knew it wouldn’t have changed a thing. König sort of… belonged here, as if written in some silly reading of the stars.

His ears flatten against his skull, large hands trembling where they hold you in place. The dam begins to crack as his eyes grow glassy, gaze far away in a concoction of pain and contemplation. He stares through you, not at, reliving something you dared not ask for an explanation for. The whys and hows die on your tongue.

And there’s nothing scary about him anymore.

There’s only a wounded soldier here.

A good boy.

Your hands rise to flip up the hood, rest it over the top of his head to cup his jaw in your palms, stroking over his cheeks with both thumbs to soothe and comfort. His unwinding comes immediate, hands slipping down to your lower back to pull you in closer.

You don’t apologize and neither does he. Everything just falls back into a comfortable lull, some fuzzy droning from both sides as you wish one another good night. He walks you to your bedroom door, the very best he can do to prove that he’s not some mutt with froth coming from his jaw. You bite your tongue to prevent yourself from encouraging that he sleep next to you.

“You’re a good boy, you know that?,” you tell him as you lean against the door in preparation to push it closed. “The very best there is.”

He doesn’t respond, but the tail behind him wags at a frantic pace from those words alone.

The following morning is different.

There’s food on the table and coffee already brewing by the time you cross from your room into the kitchen. The air bears the scent of sandalwood and geranium, a forgotten candle sat burning on the countertop. You eat your breakfast of too-sweet pancakes and prep your coffee to go all while the shower runs from somewhere down the hallway.

He usually waits, tells you goodbye before you’re off to work, bites at your neck and asks which will be better: a movie after dinner or some fresh air. Instead, there’s a note attached to the door. Something simple and mischievous, a scribbled, lopsided heart and some phrase in German written with handwriting so sloppy that there was no hope of your still sleep-addled mind translating it.

You chalk it up to him being fully adjusted in this new space, let him go about his business while you go about yours.

It would be a walk tonight.

Arriving home twists what is simply different into the realm of bizarre. No hugging by the door, it sits closed and untouched since you left this morning. You inhale something heavy, trepidation or maybe a bit of yearning there, while you fumble with your key in the lock. A click, a push, and then everything just changes. There’s no crashing and burning, only a very firm and insistent buzzing that rises to your chest, because the sight inside is just…

König.

Your König.

The hood has been discarded and set aside on the polished wood of a nearby table, the little bell collar sits right along his throat. It jingles when his ears perk and his tail begins that gentle sway, swishing with every step that you take into the apartment, rampant and unyielding when the sparkles in your eyes cluster like the tiniest, most insignificant stars.

No apologies, but this was something better.

“Gut?,” he asks you, kneels before you with the cutest stare that you’ve ever seen on a man. Constellations sit there waiting to be mapped, and your giant puppy waits for just a little praise.

You stroke his ears first, then dip your head to press a kiss to his cheek.

“The best boy,” you tell him.

“I have a present for you too.”

No protest comes when he herds you out of the door, still in your stiff uniform with your hair a mess. The sun begins its setting out on the horizon, bathing the world in purple and gold. Trees with spring blossoms and wildflowers all abloom tinge the air in something sweet. It’s not your usual trail, and König doesn’t walk at your side this time, only ahead. You watch him fondly as he grazes his fingertips against the blooms hanging from branches just overhead, how he shies away from the curious nesting birds in bushes as to not startle them.

It isn’t the usual trail, but he walks it with confidence. There are no people out so late in the day, and apart from the occasional quip between the both of you, the setting only bears the sound of the chiming of his bell and a few night birds beginning to call. Peace morphs to something greater when the sun tucks itself away and sets the stage for a bright, waning moon. There’s a small clearing, a meadow cut straight through by the dirt path you walk, and only then are you pulled aside.

“Here,” he huffs against your chest when your back meets soft grass and a hazy, spring sky is painted out above you.

Maybe you’re not the best with men, but there have been signs.

So many in abundance that the pitiful squeak that leaves you when his nose finds its way up your skirt is only an embarrassment. König must have found it charming, reaches for both of your hands as he laps at your sex through the thin lace of your panties until your body grows tense and your nails leave little crescents on the backs of his hands.

The words don’t come, they don’t have to when he speaks them for you, little whispers and coos into your hair when any barrier between you is discarded with the descent of a zipper and the sound of tearing lace. There’s an outpouring of thanks in the form of a tiny, fragile, “I missed you.”

The night birds calling washes out each sound that escapes from either of you then, only outdone by the symphony of impact when König loses himself entirely to you. Limbs curling around narrow hips and a broad back, pools of blue so shimmery and pretty they outdo even the moon hanging above locked onto you. He doesn’t look away even as you try to bury your face into the width of his shoulder, only then guides you back down with a gentle hand and a muffled, needywhine.

“Good boy,” comes as a mere peep when he fully sheaths himself and laps at the corner of your mouth as you speak. The praise only causes him to still, pries the words from his panting mouth and reduces them to a series of pleasured, stuttering groans.

“What did the note say?,” you ask him in the silence that comes comfortable once the act is done, nestled into a pair of strong arms with a cheek pressed against an expanse of chest.

“Oh.” König laughs breathily, coming down from the height of both love and need.

“That you found home?,” you ask when he pets at your hair, twirls strands between his fingertips. “Because I think that I may have, too…”

“Something like that.” He shrugs, loosens his grip around your body for a mere second before pulling you in closer, tighter to him, as if letting go would end the world entirely. “Heaven.”

#könig x reader #konig x reader

510 notes · View notes

i2sunric · 2 days

Text

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 (l.hs)

pairing: heeseung x reader (f)

summary: your daughter asks heeseung to tell the greatest love story of all and he takes the chance to narrate how he met you, the love of his life.

warnings: fluff & crack! (i tried), early 2000s au, kinda enemies to lovers, heeseung is down bad, they have a daughter, mentions of pregnancy, heeseung plays basketball, cuddling and kissing, light angst, mentions of leukaemia, parent’s death, if more lmk. NOT PROOFREAD

published: 23rd April 2024

wc: 6.2k

tag list: @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted

Heeseung couldn’t bring himself to wake you up, knowing you were so exhausted from all the things you had to do.

Not only did you manage to prepare everything for Jia’s kindergarten, take her there and get to work in time but you also cleaned and cooked in your spare time, leaving little to just sit down and rest, which was why every time you sat down on the sofa, you ended up falling in a deep slumber.

He smiled fondly, covering your curled figure with a blanket and turned around with his hands on his hips “Tin Soldier.”

He called with a forced low voice, making Jia’s attention turn from the toy in her hand to her father, she placed her stocky hand on her forehead, standing at attention “Captain Hamster.”

Heeseung chuckled at her high pitched voice and scooped her up from the floor, taking her in his arms “Mission sweet tooth,” He booped her nose “Time for teeth brushing.”

Jia let out a whine of disappointment “But I want to play more.” She pouted, and if Heeseung didn’t know how much you’d get upset if Jia missed her bedtime, he’d let his daughter play to her heart's content.

“I know,” He pinched her cheek softly, earning a giggle “But I heard the tooth fairy doesn’t come to those who don’t brush their teeth before bed…” He trailed off, Jia’s eyes widened and she quickly climbed down Heeseung’s arms, hurrying upstairs. He could hear her small steps darting to the bathroom, making him smile writhing himself.

He glanced back at you, feeling such an euphoric feeling he thought his heart would explode.

Heeseung walked close to you and placed a featherlight kiss on your forehead, but your momma instinctive feelings made your eyes open up, alerted to your surroundings as you tried to get the sight of your daughter.

“Shh..” He soothed, caressing your cheek “I’ll prepare Jia for bed, mh?” He kissed the corner of your lips, your eyes already closed under his relaxing touch “You stay here, I'll take you to bed later.” You just let out a sleepy hum, your eyes too heavy to stay open more.

Heeseung went upstairs, following his daughter’s route and getting to the bathroom where she was already brushing her teeth, probably with a little too much toothbrush but it didn’t matter. He was glad she was trying.

Jia rinsed her mouth and opened it to let her father see how much of a good job she did, Heeseung smiled proudly “Great job, Tin Soldier. It's jammy mission now.” Jia giggled as she hurried off the stool that helped her reach the faucet and took Heeseung's sleeve, dragging him (more like, he let himself be dragged) to her bedroom.

The baby took her pyjama from the chair and placed it on the bed, “Daddy, can you help me?” She asked, clumsily removing her clothes.

Heeseung nodded, smiling as he saw her attempts at changing, despite still not majoring in it. In no time, she was clean and ready to bed, Heeseung tugged her under the blankets and sat by the edge of the bed, only the thin reflection of the pink night light illuminating the room.

They stared at each other for a few moments until Jia spoke “No bedtime story?” She tilted her head in confusion “You want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

“Mommy always does,” He explained, hugging her purple bear tightly “And what kind of stories does mommy tell you?” Heeseung asked, curious

“She usually recounts Tangled because she like a Flynn Rider.” Jia informed, making Heeseung raise a brow “She does?” Was it possible to feel jealous of a cartoon character? Probably not but Heeseung was crazy about you, so he’d make it a normal thing.

“Yes, but it’s always the same story.” Jia sighed, shaking her head “I want a more interesting one.”

Heeseung stayed silent, his lips forming a thin line as he tried to think “What do you want to hear about?”

It didn’t take much for Jia to reply “I want the greatest love story of all.” She answered happily, at her age, everything was about fantasies and unicorns.

So, Heeseung tried to think about the many love stories he knew, the famous tales he’d known growing up. There was Cinderella, The Little Mermaid and…. a candle lit in his mind.

“I’ll tell you the greatest love story of all,” He started with a cocky smirk “The best fairytale ever told.”

His words fuelled Jia’s curiosity as she snuggled better under the blankets, eyes sparkling “The wonderful love story of Lee Heeseung and L/N Y/N.”

Jia’s face was puzzled “But that’s you and mommy.” She stated and Heeseung nodded, smiling “Mommy isn’t a princess.”

Heeseung shook his head, but his smile never disappeared from his lips. “No, she’s my queen.” He ruffled Jia’s hair “So, do you want to hear it?”

“Mhmh!” Jia hummed in response “If mommy is a queen then I am the princess.” Heeseung let out a low chuckle, nodding “Yes, you are our dear princess.”

Jia smiled widely, one of those smiles that made your days uncontrollably better and sweeter “Tell me, tell me.” She incited her father

“It all started on..”

⪩⪨

A rainy Thursday afternoon. It was the perfect time for a cinema hang out with friends. You stood in front of the long line, it seemed like everyone had your same idea since both elderly couples and families with children were buying tickets and popcorn. You waved your hand to a young boy who was staring at you while holding a sachet of popcorn bigger than him, he waved back, making you smile.

You turned your head to see that most of the queue was gone, so you surpassed some of those people who never moved and just stared at the menu. You already knew your order, so why would you wait for them to choose?

The cashier who looked like he could really do a vacation asked in a monotone voice “What do you want to order?”

“A packet of Twizzlers.” You said but your voice did not seem quite like yours. You turned your head to the side just to meet a pair of big eyes staring at you in disbelief.

You two narrowed your eyes at each other, a staring battle that would declare the winner. Why were you acting that way? Because the packet of Twizzlers was the last one, and if that pretty boy thought he could steal it from you, he thought wrongly.

The cashier cleared his throat. “It’s the last one.” He stated, holding the dear packet of candies in front of you two

“I was there first.” The boy tried to defend himself, making you scoff “He was talking to me.” You raised a challenging brow.

“I clearly saw you cutting the line.” He blamed “False accusation, do you have any proof?”

“You were at the end of the queue just two seconds ago!” He exclaimed, making you smirk “You were staring at me?” Pink flashed instantly on the guy’s cheeks “No.” He tried to mask it, but you could clearly see some frustration in his features

The cashier cleared his throat once again, snatching your attention. “Just decide already, or I will.”

“No!” You both screamed, side eyeing each other once again “They’re mine.” The boy said, making you roll your eyes, “Your name ain’t written on them.”

“Neither is yours.” He raised his chin, an attempt to make you see he wasn’t backing down.

There was a moment where you two stared at each other, silence filling the place except for the vociferate inside the cinema halls, waiting for the movie to begin.

“Rock, paper, scissors!” You both exclaimed at the same time again, showing your hands. He cursed under his breath, seeing your petite hand that represented paper wrap around his closed fist which was rock.

“I won.” You said mockingly, throwing a few coins on the counter and taking the packet of twizzlers in your hand.

You were walking away when the cashier called you “Miss, excuse me?” You turned around and raised a questioning brow

He waved the coins you used to pay for the candies “You’re missing ten cents.”

You widened your eyes, checking your jeans pockets. You were sure you took the right amount of money, had you miscounted them?

An hopeful grin spread across the guy’s lips, taking the pennies from the cashier’s fingers and walking toward you “Guess this should be mine.” He tried to take the packet of Twizzlers but you moved your arm

He sighed, shaking his head “Listen, darling—“ “Don’t call me darling” You snapped at him, a frown on your face

He placed two surrounding hands between you two “Alright, my bad.” He then pointed at you and the dear packet of candies “You don’t have enough money, but I do, so just give it up and go watch your movie.”

Your mouth fell agape, staring at him in disbelief. However, you had nothing to counterattack anymore and had to stay still when he took the packet, replacing your hand with your not enough coins and paying for it to the overtired cashier.

The boy winked at you before disappearing down the corridor that led to the halls.

A movie just wasn’t the same without Twizzlers, but instead of doing twenty cents charity outside the cinema to buy at least a coke, you hurried inside the hall that projected ‘The Notebook’ and tried to find your seat, despite the room being dark already. Fortunately, there was at least ten minutes of advertising, so you had enough time to let yourself fall on the seat with a loud thud, earning a few ‘shhh’s from other people.

“Girl, what’s wrong with you?” Your best friend, Sunoo asked “What took you so long to come back? I thought you got lost or something.”

You shook your head, a defeated expression painted on your face “Someone stole my Twizzlers.” You fake-dried a tear

“Aw, poor you.” Sunoo patted your shoulder, knowing your tradition of eating candies and drinking coke while watching a movie “It’s ok, I’ll share my coke with you.” He took the giant cup and placed it on the armrest between the two of you. You smiled at him and focused your attention on the movie that started.

You felt a familiar scent filling your nostrils, you slowly turned your head and raised a brow when you noticed that not only had that boy stolen your candies, he was also eating them on the seat beside yours. You had not noticed it when you first sat down, but now you could clearly see his silhouette enjoying the snack that should’ve been yours.

As if feeling someone’s stare on him, he turned his head and met your angry gaze, his eyes widened a little before they turned into two half-moons, a smug grin on his lips. You exchanged no words but the way he was acting was so mocking it made your blood burn.

You gave your attention back to the film, not wanting to fuel his ego by acting affected by his childish behaviour. Yes, it was childish, but you were more petty so it did anger you. Who did he think he was to act that way?

The movie continued, even if you were painfully aware of the parasite beside you, you were able to follow the whole plot line until the ending scene was replaced with the closing credits. Murmurs filled the cinema room, the lights went on and you heard.

Sunoo was crying rivers beside you which made you chuckle, he had already finished his third tissue when he said “I’ll run to the bathroom.” To probably cry some more and try to fix his swelling eyes later. You were about to follow him when you heard a sniffle from your other side, you turned around and your eyes lit up when you noticed the stealer crying.

He raised his head and hid it behind his hands when he noticed you were staring. A heartfelt laugh escaped your lips “Don’t laugh at me.” He mumbled with a clear runny nose “You bet I am.” You sat down again, waiting for all the people to flow out and leave the exits freer “That’s what you get for stealing my snacks.”

He peaked at you from behind his fingers. “It’s not my fault you’re broke.” You tsked at his false-not-so-false statement “It’s not my fault you’re a crybaby.”

He side-eyed you and you side-eyed him back, just like Sunoo had taught you. The boy tried to dry his tears and runny nose, which was both unhygienic and impossible with one palm of his hand.

You felt a little pitiful for him and sighed, taking a tissue from the small tissue box and handing it to the boy.

He eyed it warily, not sure if he should’ve accepted it or not. “It’s not poisonous, unlike your germs.” You waved it in front of his face and he accepted it with a groan, blowing his nose and drying his tears.

He crumpled it and put it in his jeans pocket, staring at you while gulping down in a nervous way. You chuckled teasingly “What? Is the venom acting up?”

He rolled his eyes and took something from inside his hoodie’s pocket, “I saved this for you.”

You stared at the red candy stick he was holding out for you with a frown “What?” You asked, puzzled. Heeseung just sighed, acting unbiased. “I was full, don’t think I did it out of kindness.”

“What’s your name?” You asked suddenly, making him widen his eyes “Careful, you sound interested.”

You pursued your lips “Just answer, yeah?” The boy placed the candy on your palm, standing up.

You hadn’t noticed it, but he towered you by a lot just with you sitting, you didn’t imagine how you would have to pull your neck to look into his eyes by standing in front of him.

He stretched, lazily placing his hands in his pocket “Heeseung,” He beckoned to you “Y/N.” You replied

“Thank you for the tissue, Y/N.” He said and the way your name rolled from his tongue made your stomach turn. Whether it was disgust or attraction, you didn’t dare to label.

“Unthank you for the Twizzlers.” You smirked and turned on your heels, walking away before he even had the chance to talk to you more.

⪩⪨

“You cried over a movie?” Jia asked in an accusatory tone “I’m a sensitive person.” Heeseung huffed, blinking faintly

“I think you’re just a cry baby.” Jia raised her chin proudly “I didn’t even cry when I went to the dentist.”

Heeseung sniggered softly, booping his daughter's nose. He couldn’t help but always show some sort of affection towards her. The feeling of protection and longing was so strong whenever they spent time together. “Of course, you’re stronger than me.”

“Did you see her again later?” Heeseung nodded “Yes, but it was a lot of time later, like one month or so.” Jia widened her eyes “That much?” He hummed, running a hand in his hair “I was always awestruck when I saw her, it happened at the cinema and again…”

⪩⪨

“A 40, please.” Heeseung forced out a smile and handed the skates to the young girl who just asked. He was supposed to be relaxing at home but his brother decided to have a small trip with his girlfriend and obviously, it was Heeseung’s turn to cover up for him.

He had been handing skates that smelled like sweat and rotten cheese to people for four hours, and the thoughts of doing that for another one and half made him feel sick.

“A 38, please.” Heeseung’s eyes widened at the familiar voice, he raised his head and stared at your face through his bangs.

“You!” You both shouted at the same time, making the gesture of the Spiderman meme “What are you doing here?” He asked, eyeing you up and down.

Perhaps, it was the reddish lightning of the room, or the fact that your hair had grown a little, seeming like the perfect length for you; or the soft make up accentuating your face. Or maybe just the toxic fumes from the overused skates played tricks on his head.

“What’s taking so long?” One arm sneaked around your shoulders, making Heeseung raise a brow.

Oh, that was why you were there.

“My size is hard to find.” You lied, beckoning to Heeseung to do his job. Complying, he turned around and found your skates. passing them to you “Remember to take the safety precautions.” He said the same phrase he’d been repeating so many times and watched as you walked away with that guy’s arm still around your shoulder.

It shouldn’t have pissed him off, but it did. The way you smiled with him, helping him skating despite him was a lost case. Seriously, that guy sucked at skating, he had fallen so many times in just one hour.

Trying to distract himself, when he saw you approaching the counter bar, he started polishing the skates, but the urge to just talk to you was strong, so he approached you, sneakingly.

“Where’s your date?” Heeseung asked, cleaning the table with a sponge near where you were sat “Bathroom.” You replied nonchalantly

A soft frown curved his forehead “You’ve been sitting here for fifteen minutes, you sure he’s still in there?” At his words you smirked “You were staring at me?” Those same two words you told him when you first met.

You added “I saw him sneaking away five minutes ago, I just like to think he had a massive diarrhoea and didn’t actually dump me.”

Fucker. If he didn’t want to go out with you anymore he could’ve at least told you face to face.

The notes of ‘She Will Be Loved’ by Maroon 5 started playing as background music. Heeseung stared at you, you looked so gorgeous with your makeup, messy hair from the skating and the same bored expression you always wore, like nothing truly entertained you enough.

“What a loser.” He joked instead, earning a scoff from you “Why don’t you put yourself to good use and make me a smoothie?” You asked, sliding three coins on the counter.

Heeseung raised a brow, “I don’t know how to do it.” You raised it back “Don’t you work here?”

He shook his head “I’m just filling in for my brother.” You rolled your eyes “How useless.”

You were about to take those coins back when Heeseung stopped you, his hands brushing against yours “I’ll do it.” You smirked “A vanilla one, thank you.”

It was already late afternoon and the skating room wasn’t as packed as it was during the early hours, so Heeseung could put aside the skates sizes to make you a smoothie. Obviously, only to prove to you he was better than you thought, not because he wanted to cheer you up. Not at all.

Fiddling a little bit with the smoothies machine, he managed to make one, a little too liquid, but still drinkable.

He placed victoriously the glass in front of you, adding a straw inside “Here ya go.” You eyed it up and down, warily “Did you spit in it?”

Heeseung put a hand on his chest, acting wounded “You think so low of me.” You sighed while shaking your hand and took a small sip of the ‘vanilla smoothie’

“How is it?” He asked, hopeful. You just shrugged “Not bad for a newbie.”

Heeseung smirked, leaning against the counter, you could feel his body heat near you “Where’s my tip?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing him away “Nowhere.”

Your phone rang at that moment, you made a gesture for him to keep quiet and answered “Yes, mom… Yes, I know— at the, don’t shout, at the skating rink—“ A heavy sigh “Okay, I’ll be home.”

You hung up and hopped off the stool “Where are you going?” Heeseung frowned, “You haven’t even finished your smoothie.”

“Curfew.” You replied, waving your phone to him. He raised a brow “Don’t ask.”

Heeseung nodded, exiting from behind the counter, still in his brother’s uniform. Now you raised a brow “Where are you going?”

“I’ll walk you home.” You scowled, your face showing surprise “You’re working.” You stated

Heeseung pointed at the clock on the wall that ticked 06:03 PM. “Technically, my shift ended three minutes ago.”

“And why would you walk me home?” You asked “If something happened to you on the way, I’m sure your ghost would haunt me.”

You tsked, “I wouldn’t give you the honour to visit you when I’m dead.” Heeseung just smiled and nudged your shoulder with his “Lead the way, Twizzlers lover.”

You just rolled your eyes and walked out as he held the door for you “Let’s go, Twizzlers stealer.”

⪩⪨

“Why did that boy leave mommy?” Jia asked, her lips shifting to a cute pout “Because he didn’t realise what a treasure your mother is.” Heeseung answered, now sitting beside Jia with her small body curled under his arm.

“And you walked her home?” He nodded, laughing at the memories “Your grandfather went crazy when he saw me walk her home, I got a slipper thrown at my head.”

Jia chuckled as well, her soft giggles echoing through the whole room “What’s so funny? I got hurt.”

Jia chuckled loudly, hiding her face in her father’s chest “Grandpa still throws slippers at you.” She stated, making Heeseung laugh again “That’s right.”

“What happened then?” She asked, wanting to know more about her parents' love story. This was better than any prince and princesses tales her mother used to tell her.

“Later, I was forced to have dinner with them.” Heeseung started narrating, “After that awkward meal, me and Y/N grew closer. We kept bickering and fighting, but with her, no conversation was forced.”

Jia frowned “What does it mean?” She naively asked, of course she wouldn’t know this yet, so Heeseung explained “Sometimes, we feel forced to talk to others, however with your mother I didn’t even have to think about what to say, words just came to my mind.”

“Mommy seemed like she hated you.” The baby stated, glancing up to her father “She didn’t.”

Jia tilted her head “How do you know?” Heeseung smiled fondly, “I just knew.”

⪩⪨

“This one’s for you!” Heeseung exclaimed, throwing the ball to the basket just to painfully miss it. You laughed loudly at his fail “I hope that’s not how you flirt with girls or that explains why you’re single.” You snickered

Heeseung reached the ball and dribbled it around the court, his sleeves rolled up and his bangs sticking to the sweat on his forehead “Only with you.” He winked, making you act as if you were about to gag.

“Do you think I’ll be able to enter the college’s basketball team?” He asked, his voice sounding a little too serious for his usual playful character.

“We still have two months to think about college,” You frowned. “Let me live my summer without any thoughts.” Heeseung chuckled and threw the ball at you, which you caught before it landed on your face.

“I know,” He caught the ball you threw back at him “But I truly want to get a scholarship and maybe become a basketball player.” His tone may have been indifferent but his eyes were full of insecurities that could not could not be ignored.

You had been enemy (friend) with Heeseung long enough to know he had two things he deeply cared for: His family and basketball.

He was the High School team captain but hadn’t managed to receive a scholarship to enter the Sports faculty, which meant he had to rely on his own skills and money.

That wasn’t a problem, you know his family would always support his dreams, but there was something that Heeseung did not tell you about. You had a feeling, however you didn’t want to assume things. He’d tell you when he felt like it.

Your expression softened, you jumped off the railing and moved closer to him, stealing the ball from his hands, that he let you do, and taking a shot.

The ball entered the basket, making you smile proudly “You’re the best player I know, Heeseung.” You said honestly, nudging his shoulder with yours. The ball bounced back to you and you scooped it from the floor, placing a hand that signalled to Heeseung to wait there.

You rushed to your bags and took something he couldn’t see. He waited patiently, following all your movements.

You turned around and showed him what you did— holding out his basketball ball with a smiley face drawn on it “You just have to believe it too.” The smile on your lips matched with the ball’s one, but yours shone brighter. Heeseung felt a warm feeling spread all over his chest, something tickling his heart.

“Not as good as me.” You smirked playfully, taking another shot that missed the basket “Cause at least I fail gracefully.”

Heeseung shook his head, his lips curling into a small grin “You free tomorrow evening?” He suddenly asked and you quickly replied “Not at all.”

Heeseung knitted his brows “Why?” You sat back on the railing “The new season of ‘One Tree Hill’ is airing, I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

He reached for you, taking the new-styled ball in his hands and rolling it “Not even if I said I’ll buy you Twizzlers?” You pondered a little but then shook your head “Nah ah.”

“Damn.” Heeseung sighed, “I’ll watch it with you, then.”

You blinked faintly “You called my series trash yesterday.” Heeseung nodded “Well, they are.” He hopped on the railing beside you “But when I become the best basketball player in the world, I won’t be able to spend much time with you.”

You smiled, noting how he said ‘when’ and not ‘if’ “Finally some time away from you.” Heeseung faked being offended “I’ll say on national TV that you were about to sabotage my career.” You laughed “I’ll be making prayers for your downfall.”

You both laughed at whatever, teasing each other but knowing when to stop not to upset the other.

“Eight PM, tomorrow?” Heeseung questioned, “I don’t want you in my house.” You answered, laughing “I’ll climb the window.” You immediately shook your head, knowing he could manage to do it, because he had tried once “Fine, loser. Roast beef for dinner, take it or leave it.”

Heeseung smirked, biting his bottom lip “Not you as a meal?” You widened your eyes, pushing him off the railing “What the hell.”

“Ouch—“ He fell flat on the floor, “That hurt.” You wiggled your brows “Serves you right.”

“Oh yeah?” He said, tone flirty as he took the ball and hit you hard with it, making you fall “How dare you!” You started chasing after him while he ran away.

If anyone saw you from afar, they’d think you were two people madly in love with each other… and you were.

You just hadn’t realised it yet.

⪩⪨

“You wanted to become a basketball player?” Jia asked, her voice filled with sleepiness, but she wanted to know how the story continued, so she fought her eyes open.

“Yes dear,” Heeseung placed a featherlight kiss on Jia’s hair. “I played basketball and was the best player in the world— or so Y/N thought.”

“But you don’t play anymore.” She stated and Heeseung shook his head in response “No, I don’t.” Jia yawned softly “Why?”

He sighed sadly, gulping down “Before I went to college, my mother passed away.” Heeseung held Jia a little tighter “She had leukaemia, which is a very bad thing,” He explained easily so that his daughter could understand “And I needed stability, I needed something that basketball couldn’t bring me.”

Jia looked up at him “And what could?”

“Your mother.”

⪩⪨

You couldn’t believe you learned about it two days later. That day was the date of the funeral and you weren’t by Heeseung’s side. Truth to be told, you tried to reach for him a lot in the past few days, but his brother either shrugged you off or didn’t even answer the door.

You thought you did something wrong, but it turned out his mother died due to the illness that had been haunting her for over a year.

You should’ve realised it, you should be by his side, giving him the strength he needed to get through it. Which was why you were running despite the pouring rain, trying to reach the location of the funeral.

You didn’t care if you were going to be sick the next day, your fixed thought was Heeseung and just him.

Heeseung, on the other hand, had been painfully quiet and shut down. He hasn’t comprehended yet that he was going to live the rest of his life without his dear mother, facing the troubles and sufferings of adulthood alone.

The whole room was packed with relatives he had never known about, all giving him pity glances and condolences he didn’t need. He just wanted his mother back.

Sighing, he went outside to have some time alone. As soon as he stepped outside, the cold breeze hugged his body, making him shiver. The rain made his suit wet but he didn’t really care— maybe it would take the pain away with its drain.

He stared at the night sky, the moon and the stars watching him back, probably feeling pity for him too.

His heart was heavy and black, full of grief and sorrow. He just wished you were there to make it better. You always did.

Your smile, your playfulness, your sharp tongue. He liked everything about you, even your ugliest flaw.

As he was trying to fill his dull mind with the thought of you, he saw something rushing in the streets, towards his directions.

The figure kept coming closer and closer until a familiar face was lightened from the lightbulb.

There he saw you, standing under the pouring rain, looking ever so dreamlike. There was a moment where you both just studied each other’s faces, as if you hadn’t seen each other in forever— which felt like it.

Just a couple of days without you made him realise how important you are, how much he needed you. No words were exchanged, there was no necessity, you hurried your steps toward him and hugged him, your embrace so warm in contrast with the cold weather.

Heeseung let out a sob and then another until he was crying ugly on your chest, all the tears he wasn’t able to shed until that day. You rubbed soothing circles on his chest, gripping him tightly, afraid that he would shatter right there.

“W-Why..” He weeped, his voice breaking from the trembling of his lips, due to both the cold and his crying “It— It was too early.. Why her?”

You let him rumble nonsense, knowing how heartbroken and sad he was, you just held him through the pain, hoping to at least relieve some “I know, but I am here now, I won’t leave you.”

Heeseung looked up at you, his eyes glossy, his whole body soaked and nose reddened. Perfect regardless. You stared at him, afraid that if you blinked he would disappear, and he seemed to be thinking the same thought.

You placed your hands on both his cheeks, your thumb rubbing them. Heeseung gulped down, his long lashes and bambi eyes enchanting you, so mesmerising.

You didn’t know what you were doing until you felt his hot breath hit your skin, like one of Jupiter's satellites orbiting around him, getting closer and closer to him.

And then, like a crashing wave, your lips found each other into a gentle and soft kiss, his hands raising to brush against the nape of your neck.

You let out a sigh in his mouth, his hand grasping the back of your head, tilting it to deepen the kiss. It was an anchor that he needed, something not to give up for. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing his body flush to yours, both of you warming the other, protecting from the darkness of the world.

He was the first to pull away, his lips swollen as he stared at you “You don’t know how much I waited for this.” He whispered, shaking his head to emphasise his words. Your whole body trembled under his touch, his expression filling with worry “Are you cold? We should—“

You shushed him by reattaching your lips together, only one kiss not enough to calm down the desire, “No,” you murmured on his lips “You just make me feel so much it’s overwhelming.” He let out a small sigh, nodding as if to say he felt the same. His heart was beating so fast he could feel it in his throat, every best spelling your name.

“Thank you for coming,” He whispered and you smiled at him “You know I wouldn’t leave you alone even if I were a ghost— Sorry!” You exclaimed, realising it was not the best time to bring up the conversation you had at the skating rink.

To your surprise, Heeseung laughed out loud and pressed his lips on your brow, ever so caring “Please, don’t ever lose it.”

Puzzled, you asked “Lose what?” Heeseung smiled, “The spark that makes you, you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his gaze intense as he studied those same features he knew by heart. You grinned back “If I had a packet of Twizzlers, I’d give you the last one.”

Heeseung bit his bottom lip, not able to hide the way his lips curled upwards everytime he was with you. “If I had a packet of Rolos, I’d give you the last one.”

⪩⪨

“You kissed mommy?” Jia’s voice grew softer every passing minute “Yes— but you can’t let a person kiss you until you’re eighteen, understood?”

“Why?” She asked, playing with the arms of her purple teddy bear “Because I say so.”

“Is the story finished?” Jia questioned with another yawn, as much as she wanted to hear more, her eyelids were becoming heavier

“I’ll make it quick,” Heeseung started, massaging Jia’s arm. “Mommy and I started dating after that kiss, it wasn’t official because none of us was truly ready, but we both knew what we had was magical.” He smiled within himself.

“Then, we graduated from college and I proposed to her,” Jia’s heart-lips opened to resemble an ‘o’ “With a ring?” Heeseung dipped “Yes, with a ring as beautiful as her.”

“It was an engagement ring, we made a promise to marry after university, and as soon as we got our degrees, we prepared for the big celebration— Your mother looked so perfect by the altar.”

Jia smiled sleepily, imagining how beautiful her mother must’ve looked with the wedding dress on, all candid and white “Like a queen?” Heeseung placed a kiss on her hair “Like a queen.”

“And a couple of years later, we had you.” He smiled happily. Heeseung was so satisfied with his life, and even if he had to give basketball up, he felt like he gained more. He had a beautiful wife, always by his side and a perfect daughter he’d protect with all his might (and probably throw slippers at her boyfriend’s too). His heart never felt so full of love and affection, he was accomplished.

“But the ending…“ He turned around to finish his sentence just to see Jia had fallen asleep, her breaths shallow and calm. He tugged her better under the covers, standing up from the small bed, feeling a little sore but joyful “…Still has to be written.”

He placed another featherlight kiss on her daughter’s forehead, whispering a gentle “Good night.” Before exiting the room.

He closed the door behind her back, hurrying downstairs with light steps. Heeseung saw you were still fast asleep on the couch. He removed the blanket from your figure and hooked his arms behind your neck and knees, scooping you from it.

You blinked your eyes open, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck “Hee?” You murmured, your voice laced with sleep.

“Hey, love.” He nudged his nose with your cheek “Time to get to bed.” You hummed, snuggling closer, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

Heeseung opened the door to your bedroom with his foot and slowly placed you down on the mattress. You opened your eyes again, staring at him through your half-lids “Jia?” Heeseung smiled reassuringly. “She’s sleeping, just finished telling her a story.”

He laid down beside you, wrapping the cover over your two figures, he shifted closer to you, holding you close “What story?” You asked, your voice hoarse “Just the best story ever.” He placed a sweet kiss on the corner of your lips

“By the way, I’m a better storyteller than you.” He bragged and you scoffed “Liar.”

“Maybe,” He chuckled, wrapping both his arms around your body “But do you know one thing I never lie about?”

You shook your head “I’d give you my last Rolo.” You smiled, he could feel it on his chest “I’d give you my last Twizzler too.”

[⪩⪨] END.

THANK YOU FOR READING ! REBLOG (and like) AND LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS !

#enhypen #enhypen fics #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #heeseung fics #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung scenarios #lee heeseung scenarios #lee heeseung fluff #heeseung fluff #heeseung one shot #lee heeseung one shot #enhypen one shot #heeseung oneshot #lee heeseung oneshot #heeseung enhypen #lee heeseung enhypen

495 notes · View notes

luveline · 11 hours

Note

Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3

ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k

“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.”

“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.”

“I understand, but–”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.”

You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?

“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself.

The door opens while you’re looking through your bag.

“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?”

You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.”

“Did you call them?”

Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden.

Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull.

“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks.

You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top.

Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ?

“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly.

You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.”

“We really don’t have time to waste.”

“I know, but my blood sugar–”

She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”

“Clearly not!”

“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.”

The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed.

You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.”

If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.”

Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?”

“You want to chew it for me?” you ask.

He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.”

He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick.

“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.

“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth.

He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut.

In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?”

You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.”

“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?”

“No,” you say apologetically.

“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.”

Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”

“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”

“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.

“How did you get so low?” he asks.

“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?”

“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.”

“Don’t usually get so dizzy.”

“When was the last time you were below seventy?”

“Don’t know,” you mumble.

Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?”

He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke.

You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard.

By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her.

You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.”

“I understand.”

You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.

He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.”

“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble.

He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.”

“What do I get in return?”

He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

484 notes · View notes

heavenangelly · 3 days

Text

I feel like people are constantly trying to find ways to make the law seem fake. Telling people you’re being delusional, that it’s just a placebo effect, that it’s not real, that it can’t happen, etc. Is it so hard to believe that there is a power within you that can make your life marvellous? That can make you free? That anything you ever desire, can become true instantly? That you’d never have to struggle again? Doesn’t it sound amazing? Because it’s way better than believing any of those limiting beliefs. You have a way OUT with the law. Why do you want to believe otherwise?

All that you’ll ever have to do to “get” your desire is to be the person that already has it / is it. Since you are now that person, it is an assumption. And since the law is literally called, the LAW of ASSUMPTION, that’s all you’ll ever have to do. It’s so fucking simple. And the LAW will never change. It’s been around since humans (possible animals) existed. The only difference is that humans have now become aware. That people (Neville, Abdullah, Edward, bloggers, etc) have started preaching and showing people the truth of life and the power you hold within you.

STOP trying to find ways to prove to yourself that the law is fake. What you seek, you shall find. And in your seeking, you manifest what you’re seeking, so you’ve already lost.

You are always manifesting. Throughout your whole life you have manifested things, consciously or unconsciously (excluding trauma and things you didn’t know about). You have always been a master manifester. You have always chosen to believe/assume things. And it has ALWAYS been reflected. The law never fails.

Actually PRACTICE (consciously) the law and you will see what I mean. Go on your journey and explore your unlimited power. Understand who you are, how to manifest, and why the 3d doesn’t matter. Then, you will be destined to succeed.

And please, stop letting other peoples beliefs become your own. They’re irrelevant and do not matter in your world. You create; so only YOU matter. Become confident in who you are and what you believe in and these measly, insecure, desperate people will fade away. Become confident in the law by applying it. You are God. Wake up.

Another note is, is that none of these bloggers gaf about TikTok’s or some random npc’s beliefs because they have practiced the law and have SEEN their world MELT before their eyes to accommodate them. They know it, they’ve seen it, they believe it. They have no reason to doubt. None of us would lie for shits and giggles.

Do not let the world sway you from your power.

Xoxo,

Heavenangelly.

#law of assumption #manifesting #edward art #loa #loa tumblr #loassumption #manifest #neville goddard #void state #imagination #limiting beliefs #4d #3d #people that need to see this will see it #the law isn’t fake

487 notes · View notes

cinnamon-girl-writes · 2 days

Text

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman . . .

gentlemanly things the jjk men do ! feat. gojo, nanami, geto, choso, higuruma, yuuji, megumi

fluff, headcanons, dubious grammar

by @cinnamon-girl-writes

gojo

Im’ma be real, it was hard af to come up with something serious for this man

but I’m gonna go with: he always opens doors for you and never lets you open them yourself

whether it be your car door or a restaurant, he’s always there just a step ahead of you to make sure his princes doesn’t have to do any work <3

*coughs* he also does it to stare at your ass from behind *coughs*

nanami

opposite of gojo, i couldn’t stop thinking of gentlemanly things this man *wouldn’t* do— anyways

nanami is the man who compliments you on more than just your appearance <3

of course, he tells you how beautiful you are all the time

but the best thing about this man is when he tells you how smart you are, or how he loves that your jokes always make him laugh

he’ll compliment your dtermined attitude or your loving nature

if you’ve been working really hard lately, he takes notice and tells you that you’re doing great

overall just. 10/10

geto

soooo geto has a history (in canon) of feeling unneeded/underappreciated

SO wwhat i think he’d always do for his partner is make a deliberate effort to tell them that

every day he finds a way to tell you: you matter to me and i need you in my life <3

sometimes it’s random, like when you’re laying and the couch and he tells you

or sometimes it’s more of a show, like him taking you out to dinner just to show you he appreciates you

choso

while romantic relationships are a little new to him, he treats his relationship with you very seriously

that being said, he notices whenever you’re stressed out about something

so to help you with this, he takes on whatever tasks are burdening you: your kids are driving you crazy? he’s great with kids. the dishes on your counter have been sitting there for two weeks? don’t worry, he’s got it

overall probably one of the best on this list

higuruma

this man- *ovulates*

anyways . . . like nanami he’s another epitome of gentlemanliness, however higuruma doesn’t have that much free time to spend with you because of his job as a lawyer

so when he is with you, he deliberatly asks you about how your day was. he’ll listen to every word you say and ask questions, wanting to get every detail out of you (and also, maybe he just likes the sound of your voice :))

but regardless, hearing about your day is very important to him

oh, you’ve got gossip about people he doesn’t even know?? he’s SAT

he listens to every detail, stopping you to ask questions and make sure he’s following the story

the KING of giving advice

yuuji

yuuji doesn’t necessasrily stick to formalities, but one thing he always pays attention to is the SIDEWALK RULE <3

like you swear this guy has a sixth sense or something because you literally never find yourself walking on the outside of the sidewalk

if you ever ask him about it, he just says he doesn’t do it on purpose but just always puts your safety first

megumi

poor megs didn’t really have a great example of being a gentleman growing up :( so this stuff is kind of hard for him

i would say in general he just has a pretty hard time with giving/recieving affection

but that being said, megumi puts a lot of thought into everything in your relationship

dates that he plans out are always extremely well thought out according to your interests and likes

his gifts are usually hand made, but if he does pick something out it’s very personal, usually something that you’ve been mentioning a lot lately

a/n: no i did not inclde toji because as much as i love his broke ass, for the life of me i could not think of one single gentlemanly thing about him

470 notes · View notes

dante-mightdie · 7 hours

Note

Viking!simon

Harsh times come again, and it’s kind of a war, so they are already expecting invasions or fights near the clan, so Simon teaches the wife how to defend herself, but only if she needs it (he makes it really clear that she just have to use it if it’s really really needed)

One night the clan is invaded, and just like the last time he hides her (but better this time) and tells “stay.” and that is what she does, she keeps herself quiet and still until she hears children screaming. Their “neighbor’s” children. She grabs the dagger that Simon used to teach her and goes help the kids

I don’t know, the man probably didn’t hear her coming or she pretended to not know how to fight, actually for me it doesn’t matter, but picture it with me: Simon trying to find her after the fight and getting desperate that he can’t find his wife, he goes to the safe house where they are attending the ones who got hurt, he is looking out for her, and that is when he finds her, her back to him, but he can see his neighbor children (the baby on her hip and the little girl being hugged in a protective way), he runs toward them just to find the wife covered in blood, but the look in her [rage] eyes tell him everything, and she says “the blood is not mine”

And he falls in love with her

how does it feel to be a fucking genius? hmm? tell me.

c/w: mentions of blood, mentions of pregnancy and children

he doesn’t even question why his heart starts racing when he doesn’t find you in your shared home. nor does he question the way relief floods his bones when he sees you, safe and sound with the neighbours kids clinging to you

it feels completely natural to feel this way to him. of course he would be worried. you’re his. he immediately drops to one knee in front of you so he can be face to face, checking over your face for any signs of distress or pain

the same way that it feels natural for him to raise his jagged scarred hands up to cup your warm cheeks and rest his forehead against yours. eyes closed as he thanks the gods that you’re safe

“this is not my blood, simon. i’m fine.” you whisper, your hands coming up to lay over his. the moment shared between you two is tender, new even…

“I was worried about you…” he mumbles, pressing his lips to your forehead. you stay like this for a few more fleeting seconds before pulling away, switching back to your usual selves

you and simon wait with the children until they are found by their next of kin. simon can see the reluctance to give them back, he sees that longing look in your eyes. and you looked like such a natural holding that baby on your hip

perhaps it was time for simon to start expanding his bloodline, he thinks. get you to pop out a few kids for him to train into the best and strongest warriors. give his lovely wife a few chubby babies to fuss over and take care of when he’s busy with his duties as a warrior :(

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #viking!simon #mw2 #cod mw2

403 notes · View notes

makelemonade · 1 day

Text

THE FATUI’S CUMSLUT

all the male harbingers except Pulcinella

Really it all starts out simple; you were just a simple secretary for the Harbingers who worked directly under Pantalone.

So naturally it starts because of him.

He likes talking to you- not like, actually, loves. You’re the only person who’s actually willing to listen to his constant rambles about his theories of currency and he doesn’t know if it’s out of fear or because you’re actually willing but he still finds comfort in it.

It’s so comforting that honestly, it kinda turns him on…like no one has ever actually sat with him and listened to him with such focus that he’s lining over you, both lovingly and sickingly.

How the stress relief starts…he’s bold.

by bold, meaning you quite literally caught him jerking off to the thought of you as you walked into bring him a few papers to sigh, and he was bold enough to ask you for your help; and of course you oblige!

okay now actually onto the actual smut part;

Pantalone, who is probably the second sweetest out of all of them when he fucks you. As teasing as he is, he makes sure to pleasure you.

Pantalone, who just laughs when you say you want to pleasure him instead, and he’ll tell you that your pleasure is enough to get him off for days.

Pantalone, who sometimes just can’t handle all the stress the others push on him and he’ll come find you, bending you over any near substance and prioritizing his pleasure just for a bit.

Pantalone, who can also just push you against the wall of the castle halls, not caring if anyone sees you. He knows the risk turns you on, and he loves it.

Pantalone, who fucks into you so passionately yet roughly; so obsessed with how your tits bounce he just has to grope them as he fucks you. He might even fuck them too, and let you suck the tip of his cock.

Pantalone, who passes this information onto his good partner Dottore, who decides he has to really test out the theory that you’re as good as Pantalone says you are.

Dottore, who decides he’ll need you for certain experiments. You’re hesitant, but he promised he’d never do anything to hurt his loyal assistant.

Dottore, whose experiments are really just seeing how many times you can cum on a drug, a toy, his hand or his dick.

Dottore, who is WAY more teasing than Pantalone and wants to pleasure you, but makes sure his pleasure is always given no matter what.

Dottore, who loves to try any new kink or idea with you. Whether it be bondage, role playing kink- anything! you’re the only one he will do it with

Dottore, who is just so rough on your poor cunt :( who’ll rub your clit as he fucks into you so harshly, the slaps echoing through his lab.

Dottore, who WILL fuck you in front of the segments or have multiple of them fuck you while he watches

Dottore, who then passes this onto his comrade, Capitano.

Capitano, who is the sweetest out of all of them.

Capitano, who yes, does need you for his stress relief but he doesn’t wanna hurt you. Instead, he’ll go at your own pace- he knows his cock is too big for you and is patient to get you ready.

Capitano, who praises the most out of them all. It’s a shock because he’s typically quiet, but a “good girl” will make you cum on the spot.

Capitano, who will only go rough on you once you beg him too, and he will quite literally fuck you like a monster.

Capitano, who is just so big even his fingers make you go crazy. He’ll wipe your tears as you complain about how big it is and he’ll try his best to soothe you.

Capitano, when rough, goes absolutely drunk on your pussy and fucks his cum into it for hours even if you’re too overstimulated.

Capitano, who’s coat is so big that when the others aren’t using you, he’ll have you sit on his lap during meetings and wrap his coat around you- hiding how you’re warming his cock, or sometimes he might not even use the coat.

Capitano, who passes this information onto his good friend, Pierro.

Pierro, who could be the sweetest if we considered this in terms of how gentle they were when they fuck you.

Pierro, who is actually practically monsterfucking you whenever he chooses to use you.

Pierro, who is sweet because he doesn’t like to use you a lot- he knows how much the others do and how much it makes you sore so instead he’s the king of aftercare, making sure you come to him after them if they don’t take care of you so that he can.

Pierro, who sometimes just can’t help it because he’s too stressed out, and has to bend you over his desk and fuck you for hours.

Pierro, who does care about your pleasure just a bit, but you are his stress relief aren’t you? He’ll remind you as he cums for the nth time in you, you a babbling a mess.

Pierro, who isn’t really as kinky or exhibiting as the others and likes to fuck you in the comfort of his office. However, he may steal Capitano’s idea and slowly and subtly bounce you on his cock while you’re under his coat, hiding from the others.

Pierro, who’s dick is just too big that the moment he even lets the tip in you’re already going absolutely drunk on his cock.

Pierro, who notices Childe’s recent sickness caused by his delusion, and suggests a reason for him to finally relax in certain ways; you.

Childe, who is the last on the list of being the sweetest.

Childe, who sure, he’ll praise you when you do so good and degrade you just how you like- will use you the most out of all the men

Childe, who is just soooo tired and stressed and he needs your pussy to suck his cock in at least once every hour.

Childe, who will have you cockwarm him as he does his work and spanks your thigh when you try to get some relief and tells you to be patient and that he’ll tend to you once he’s done.

Childe, who does care about your pleasure and makes sure to make you cum first, but the real reason is because he wants you overstimulated so you can cry and beg for him to stop- it turns him on because you know you don’t want him to.

Childe, who will fuck you anywhere and everywhere. The lounge rooms? Every couch has been used. The kitchen? You’ve been bent over every counter? The halls? He’ll hold you up and fuck into you.

Childe, who does not care if someone sees or hears you two and will purposely make you scream so the subordinates outside his office can hear and remind them that they can’t have someone as gorgeous as you.

Childe, who even if it seems like he sees you as his cock sleeve, does care about you and makes sure you get good aftercare and will massage you- him and Pierro are great minds alike.

Childe, who is the one to suggest to all of them to use you when they’re all in the castle.

You, who by the end of the day, is a babbling mess; you’re covered in their cum while some of it dropped out of all your holes. There were honestly hundreds of bite and hickey marks littered over you- your neck, thighs, tits, ass, hips. It’s insane. and all they can think about is how they can’t wait to continue using your slutty pussy.

follow me/keep up with me on my other platforms!

Twitter; II_MakeLemonade

Wattpad; GottaMakeLemonade

387 notes · View notes

ev3rgreenxtrees · 1 day

Text

Sub!Matt HC’s

-M.S

▐ Sub!Matt who: can’t ever keep his hands to himself. No matter what you’re doing, or where you are. Not only in sex, but he’s just always got his hands on you.

▐ Sub!Matt who: acts all that— until he’s underneath you. Then he’s whimpering and whining, throwing out apologies, begging you to stop, knowing good as hell he doesn’t want you to.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Loves it when you ride him. Weather that be gentle or rough, he loves it when you bounce on him, slamming down onto his cock.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Hates to admit he’s a sub. Even though he and everyone else knows he is, he refuses to admit it.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Begs you to leave hickeys, but then pouts about it the next morning, claiming his fans would see, and his brothers would make fun of him.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Loves being bossed around. He acts like he hates it, but he loves it, and you know. That’s why you always boss him around. Telling him exactly what to do in a firm and demanding voice.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Always begs. Even when you don’t ask him to, he always does. “Please, please, please let me cum!” As if you denied him the privilege, knowing you didn’t.

▐ Sub!Matt who: is VERY vocal. He’s loud, he cries, he whines, anything to make noise. His moans are so loud, even his brothers occasionally make fun of him for it, like texting him ‘if ya gon moan at least be on top buckaroo. ur gross kid’

▐ Sub!Matt who: Tries to be punished. He likes it when you’re rough on him, but he’s scared to upright ask you, so he thinks that so long as he’s a brat, he’ll get punished- and he’s right.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Wants to please everyone. This kid takes subspace to a whole other level, wanting to accommodate to everyones’ needs, being touchy and whiny to the people he’s close with. You think it’s adorable.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Always wants to please you. You always claim he comes first, but he throws a fit and pouts. He always wants to make sure you feel good too, weather that be his cock, fingers, or mouth.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Is subconscious of cumming first. He’s not sure why, but he always insists you cum before him, no matter what.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Can’t sit still. You tie him down all the time to still his movements, but it doesn’t work. He always finds a way to jerk his hips when he’s overstimulated or needs more.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Hates to say it, but loves to be edged and overstimulated. He loves crying and withering under your touch, his body betraying his mind when he begs for more.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Always wants to go round for round. Its easier for him to say, since he’s not doing as much work as you, but the kid wants to go forever.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Always tells everyone how good his girlfriend is in bed. He never brings up the fact that he’s a sub, he just states she’s amazing and knows what she’s doing. You love it, but it can get embarrassing at times.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Acts dominant when others are around. Even going as far as grabbing your throat or slapping your ass when you don’t do as told, even though he know’s he’ll get punished for it later.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Is always needy. Watching a movie on the couch with his brothers? He’ll grind on your leg under the blanket. At a party? He’ll sit you on his lap, grinding your ass into his crotch, hiding his face in your neck. At dinner? Under the table. This man needs your touch anywhere.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Claims he hates public sex, knowing good as fuck it turns him on so fast. Trying on a new lingerie set? He gets fucked in the dressing room. Sees you in a bathing suit? He gets fucked in the water. Stressed after a meeting? Gets fucked in his car.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Loves making a mess. He hates cleaning it up, but seeing his- or your- cum all over the bed, his and your body, he loves it.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Pouts to you when Chris or Nick tease him for being a sub. ‘Ma! Tell ‘em to stop!’ He whines. ‘Matty, they were telling you to pipe down next time.’ You scold, but he whines again, shoving his body into yours.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Complains about you calling him pet names in public. “Baby, c’mon.” you urge the boy. “Hey! Shhh!” He shushes, covering your mouth with his hand. “What, hun?” You ask, pulling away from his hand. “No!” He growls, his cheeks turning red. “Matt!” You gasp.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Is so embarrassed when you compliment him. “You look very pretty today, pretty boy.” You hum in his ear, and his eyes widen and his cheeks flush red.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Has a love-hate relationship with teasing. It depends on how bad he needs you, but sometimes you take too long for his liking, causing the boy to almost cum untouched.

▐ Sub!Matt who: Secretly loves it when you drag him around. “Matt. Come.” You demand, grabbing the boy’s collar on his shirt, and he allows you to drag him around. “Stand up, Matt!” Chris jokes.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;

IM SORRY IF THIS ISNT GOOD THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING HCS PLEASE GIMME FEEDBACK🙏🏻

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso @tillies33ssss @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @75sturn @slut4mattsturn

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #fanfic #christopher sturniolo #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #angst #matt sturniolo texts #sub matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #smut

259 notes · View notes

on-leatheredwings · 3 days

Note

It's not a request, just wanna know your thoughts about yandere masochist Tim?

•́ ‿ ,•̀

> romantic 18+ > twcw: bdsm, yandere-typical behaviors, can be read as dub-con despite reader being the dominant > kinda treated it like a hc/imagine request anyway hahhh it was fun to write!

Man, yandere masochist Tim would be a little bit of a mindfuck. But a delicious one, to be sure! I think the relationship is initially enticing to you because, well, Tim's the one getting dominated here. You're the one with the upper hand.

(He thinks it's very cute of you to assume that. Despite being the submissive, Tim’s definitely the one in control here.)

On a surface-level, Tim would enjoy letting go and putting himself in your hands. The Bats are adept at multitasking, but even geniuses like them get… stressed. Sometimes he doesn’t want to think, Lord knows he does enough of that already. Sometimes, it’s nice to be the pawn in someone else’s game for once, but also be able to enjoy it.

On a deeper level, Tim likes being your sub because it truly means that he's yours and you’re his. He loves when you pull at his hair, nip at him, or bully him. Your anger, your passion, your punishment– only he gets to see and enjoy the darker sides of you that you keep hidden from view during the day. Tim is greedy. Both the pain and pleasure you dish out is for him, and him alone, to take. And the same goes for your softness during the aftercare.

I see Tim enjoying being any flavor of masochist/sub, depending on his mood. And depending on yours as well! He can be a feisty, vexing brat with a smart mouth or a whimpering, pleading submissive. He has nothing if not the range! I think he’d really enjoy spanking or flogging.

His favorite position is head down, ass up. He likes the vulnerability and surprise, and the option to hide his face and mewl into the sheets. He's partial to being blindfolded as well! He enjoys bondage and shibari, too. He could easily escape, but he doesn't - that's him showing his respect, adoration, and trust for you.

Tim's more … possessive qualities will show themselves if you aren’t in a relationship with him, only friends with benefits.

"I may... find another sub, if that's okay with you?" No, it's not okay with him. Only he gets to see you this way. He feels obscenely, viscerally opposed to the idea, but he smiles amicably to your face.

Tim’s requests get more and more extreme to keep your attention. Show you that he lacks nothing, and he can go farther than any other masochist you could find. However, you didn't ask him to perform this way. Sure, you may be the dominant here, but your boundaries still matter don’t they?

“Fine… but this is the last time, Tim,” you say, relenting. You’ll find him nodding, agreeing that of course, of course, just one more time for pity’s sake. That night, he’ll make sure to make the sweetest sounds. His role usually takes and receives, but Tim decides to also give. You can sit and ride his face until you orgasm. In your post-coital glow, you'll lie sandwiched to each other, breathless. He'll have your fingers trail on his skin and trace the bruises and the pretty pink welts you've left.

He'll whisper his agenda in your ear. You've always been easier to convince after loosening up. Okay, so maybe he was more hardcore than usual tonight, but you liked it, too. Why ruin a good thing? What could anyone give you that Tim can't? Maybe you really don't need to find someone else.

And most importantly, Tim will make it seem like you arrived at that conclusion entirely by yourself.

#yandere batfam #yandere tim drake x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake #yandere tim drake #queue #tw nsft #mine

234 notes · View notes

bisexualiteaa · 2 days

Note

fem reader x ghoul where he’s talking about how small she is?

Fun Size

Cooper Howard x Smaller Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW MDNI!! Size kink, p in v, unprotected sex, p0rn w/o plot, mentions of breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, cursing, body worship, establish relationship.

AN: Hey anon! I couldn’t figure out any other way to write this than as a smut so I hope that’s alright! I hope I could do your ask justice and that you and all my other lovely readers will enjoy!

Synopsis: Cooper loved that you were smaller than him, whether it was height, stature, weight it didn’t matter, he loved it about you. He wanted to make sure you knew just how much he loves his fun size. ❤️

This one is slightly shorter than my other works but I hope it is just as enjoyable! I’m actually a smaller framed person so writing this comes from a slightly personal place, I hope it can still be enjoyable to those of all body types. Our cowboy doesn’t discriminate and neither do I, know that you are all loved! ❤️

When he called you his lil’ lady, he called you it for a lot of different reasons. One; he was southern at heart, so a few terms of endearment were standard practice for him. Two; was because you were little compared to him, and he absolutely adored that. When he stood near you, he nearly towered over you, and his stature was quite broad compared to you. He could lift more than you, drink more than you, but what you lacked in size, you more than made up for in attitude. He had never seen someone have so much fight and so much poison in their sweet voice. He knew it’s what you had to do, in a dog eat dog world like this, you really had no other options. As much as you may have held a dislike for your smaller stature, he always wanted to assure you that he enjoyed it, and it was in these more intimate moments like this one that he really enjoyed that size difference.

His larger hand came over yours as he took you from behind, his fingers intertwined with yours as he leaned his head into the crook of your neck. He placed kisses against the sensitive spots along your skin, enjoying the moans leaving your lips as his hips slapped against your ass. “Cooper…” you moaned sweetly, your head raising a little as your mouth fell open, his cock brushing your g-spot with each drag outwards and nudged the apex of your cervix with each thrust inwards. “Love this cute lil’ waist of yours” he said, his free hand traveling along your frame, grabbing at anything he could get his hands on. “These hands, look damn good holdin’ a gun in ‘em” he added, worshipping your body as it trembled beneath him, your whimpers and moans sounding like music to his ruined ears. “Everythin’ about you is perfect, darlin’” he finished, and you’d never felt so loved. You never really put much thought into your size before, knowing you were small put you at a slight disadvantage out in the wastelands because most people would take one look and consider you weak, but Cooper knew that was far from the truth. You were one hell of a woman, with firepower and attitude to put someone even taller than him to shame. You were stronger than most ever gave you credit for, and that was almost like a secret power for you. “In another life, I’d have put a baby in this lil’ tummy of yours. Watch you walk around all swollen where you gotta waddle” he said, groaning at the thought of having a child with you, he so dearly missed his baby girl from his past marriage but that was a thought for another time. He felt your walls squeeze around him at the thought, making him chuckle. “Ya like that thought, dontchya, sugar? Felt that pretty pussy tighten around me, you like the thought of me breedin’ you, sweetheart?” He asked with a perverted grin, making you whimper as your face and body fell hot. You’d be a liar if you said the dream hadn’t crossed your mind before but it was one you knew was impossible to think about, especially with how the world was now. You felt his fingers run down to rub tight circles against your clit, making your back arch and your head roll back against his shoulder. “That’s it, arch that back. Cum for me sweetheart, I gotchya” he coaxed, and it wasn’t long before you fell over the edge, the cry of his name leaving your lips like a prayer.

You gasped for air as you panted beneath him, your smaller frame trembling beneath him once more as the feeling rushed over you in pleasurable waves. You whined, feeling him quickly pull out and finish over your back, needing to conserve your resources of RadAway for just a little bit longer before using it again. As you collapsed on the bed, waiting for him to return with a damp rag to clean you, you had a great idea on how to really play with his liking of the size difference. You smirked to yourself as you watched him dispose of the rag after cleaning you up then himself, sneaking his shirt from off the floor and putting it over your tiny frame. His shirt pooled over you like a night dress, all baggy around the middle, sleeves coming over your hands as they almost seemed to disappear beneath the pool of fabric. The bottom of the shirt came to rest just around your mid-thighs, it was perfect. He looked up, giving a mix between a chuckle and a groan at the sight, feeling his dick twitch in his briefs as you stood before him in nothing more than his beaten up, bloodstained shirt. “Careful sugar, don’t start somethin’ you ain’t able to finish” he warned, seeing the mischievous glint in your eyes and grin stretched to your lips. “Not sure I catch your meanin’ there, honey” you replied teasingly as he scooped you up with ease, soon plopping you back down on the bed with him as he all but pounced on you, making you yelp playfully before giggling as he buried his face into your neck. “Ya look damn good in my clothes” he said, making you smile. “It’s a sight you can have every day if ya’d like t’ keep me ‘round” you responded, knowing exactly what his answer would be to that. “Think I’d ever get rid a you? You’re all mine, fun size” he said, making you giggle at the bad pun-based nickname he called you. “Wouldn’t want it any other way” you replied, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his bald head before falling peacefully asleep.

#fallout x reader #fallout smut #fallout #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul

265 notes · View notes

chastiefoul · 2 days

Text

mischievous streak | neuvilette

just another day of you pining over neuvilette and poor wriothesley has to hear all about it. (dw neuvilette makes an appearance!!) fluff. crack. this one is so unserious. 0.7k words

“and when he said ‘oratrice oratrice mecanique d'analyse’ did you hear it, wrio?” you swooned, another day of fanning over the iudex of fountaine to your best friend, wriothesley.

“did you?” the duke replied increduosly, as if not really getting the reason why that was the part you’re fawning over. “oh and when he declared ‘guilty’ verdict with such conviction and charisma to that person, i wished that was me.” you went on, the conversation was most definitely one-sided.

“...you wished that you’re in a court and getting a ‘guilty’ verdict?” he blinked, not knowing how to react when the things you’re saying gets more insane as each day passed. “well not really, but i am certainly guilty. guilty for wanting to climb him like a-“

wriothesley cut you off with an exaggerated cough.

“you finish that sentence and i’m sending you to the authorities.” you crossed your arm, “you’re the authorities.” he sighed, “yes and i’m not above putting cuffs on you and throw you to one of the cell.”

you gasped, “you wouldn’t. you’d put me in jail because of love?”

“insanity is what you are, (y/n). seriously, just talk to him.” he picked up his cup of tea wanting to take another sip. “and what do i say, that i’ve been in love with him since forever and that i’d give him a limb in exchange for a date?”

“sure. or, you could say you want to get to know him a little better, and ask him out for some lunch?” he said, his pen not stopping on checking the piling documents on his table. “but that’s like super obvious!” you retorted.

“and saying you’d give him one of your limb isn’t...?” he gave you a side-eye before getting back to his paper. “hmm, fair point.” you tapped your chin with your finger. “but he doesn’t seem like the type who’d just go out with anyone, no? i don’t think i’ve ever seen him with someone,” you claimed, thinking back to all the times you passed him accidentally by remembering his schedules.

“you’re right, but i don’t think that’s by his choice though. i think some people just got really intimidated by the idea of casually hanging out with the iudex of fountaine.” he shrugged. “what?! that’s not fair, even though he’s really kind hearted?”

the man in front of you gave you a mocking smile. “yeah, and you’d know hm? since you hang out with him so much,” he teased. “i don’t like you, you’re attacking me for no reason.” you grumbled. wriothesley just chuckled good naturedly before you continued.

“gosh but seriously, he should have someone by his side, don’t you think? someone’s who’s supportive, who will stand by him no matter what. you know, someone like me? i would treat him so good. i would make him food all day, draw him a bubble bath-“

a cough cut you off, you’d think it’s wriothesley and his unwillingness to hear your sincerity about your feelings towards neuvilette, but when you see that his expression was just as startled, you shut your lips.

both of you turned your heads to the end of the stairs and there he is.

neuvilette.

yes, the very one you’ve been crushing on since forever, oh and did i mention you just said you’d draw him a bubble bath?

the tip of his ears was visibly rosy, as he looked like he tried so hard not to look embarrassed or even phased. “i was let in by the guard, i didn’t realize there is another guest.”

you closed your eyes, counting slowly to three because perhaps it would be able to turn back time, even just a little. wriothesley was just covering his mouth, and you’d bet the other limb you have that he’s currently trying his harderst to hold back a laugh.

this is a situation. a situation you need to diffuse fast with your quick thinking.

you turned to wriothesley. “that’s why i said duke, not only you don’t need to reduce my sentence, please don’t let me out from this jail forever. i would endanger the civilians. thank you for your time duke wriothesley, i am now going to go back to my cell.”

hearing that was just the last straw for your best friend, he laughed out loud. doubling over and all that as he clutched his stomach. after a solid two minutes of him just laughing and you facepalmed yourself, wriothesley gained his composure.

“neuvilette, meet (y/n), the all-over supervisor of the fortress of meropide.”

you glared at him before giving the long-haired man your sweetest smile.

“hello, it’s nice to finally see you down here in the flesh, monsieur neuvilette.” you nodded at him in which he replied with a slight smile. “likewise and please, just call me neuvilette.”

neuvilette gave wriothesley a document as he immediately skimmed through it. “i see, well there’s nothing here that i can give an input on better than (y/n), this is more of their expertise.” your head turned so quick as if you heard a blaring alarm. “then, i would appreciate your insight on this matter if you have the time,” neuvilette said as looked at you and there’s no way you could say no.

“of course! perhaps over lunch? it’s the right time, no?” you bounced back, now feeling excited than nervous. he chuckled at the enthusiasm as he agreed. “yes, you’re right. but perhaps you should know i’m not ready yet for someone to draw me a bubble bath after just one lunch.” he put his fist over his mouth, covering his smile. so turned out the iudex of fountaine has a mischievous streak in his personality after all.

that’s nice. not for your already beyond embarrassed state, though.

“wriothesley, just arrest me right now please.”

#genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette x you #neuvilette fluff #wriothesley fluff

331 notes · View notes

ianyoa · 1 day

Text

SOMETHING SUPER SWEET

jjk men x baker f!reader wc: 757 featuring: satoru gojo, suguru geto, nanami kento, choso kamo, yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, yuta okkotsu.

summary ; jjk men headcannons with a baker girlfriend !

Satoru Gojo LOVES the fact that you can bake. Coming back to a sweet treat is like a dream come true. If you’re having insecurities about trying something new out, he’s the first to reassure you that it’s already perfect on the first go. He loves watching you bake when there’s downtime. Whenever you’re distracted he likes to dip his finger into the batter and have an early taste… which leads into a spoonful, then another, and another. Next thing you know, you’re giving Satoru a slice of cake while he’s in bed with a stomach ache because he insists he’s TOTALLY fine and doesn’t want it to go to waste.

Suguru Geto claims to be indifferent. He comes over and sees a brownie, he’ll only eat it because “you made them.” Truth is, he loves them so, so much. After a full day of having to take in awful curses, there’s nothing better than having something delicate that his sweet girlfriend made. Maybe one day he’ll vocally express his love for them, but you already tell how much he enjoys them by the look in his eyes when he comes back to the smell.

Nanami Kento, being the man he is, helps you. He loves coming back to see you midway through baking. Doesn’t matter if he’s tired, he’ll wash his hands and jump right in with you. He loves it when you make bread together. It’s perfect for him to pack it up for his lunch the next day. He doesn’t lean towards sweets, maybe having a bite or two and leaving the rest for you. But the second you make croissants, muffins, biscuits, you name it.. he’s thinking about the perfect time to propose.

Choso Kamo is amazed. Seriously, like.. how is this possible? He gets a little nervous whenever you tell him to join you, he just doesn’t want to screw up since you always do it perfectly. Choso ends up enjoying it a lot! He gets happy whenever it starts forming together. One thing he loves doing, decorating the cookies after. You give him a couple of piping bags with different icings and a tray of sprinkles and he’s sitting there for who knows how long trying to make it look perfect for you. He loves watching you bake, not just staring at the dough as you make it from nothing to something, but the look on your face once it’s complete and you’re satisfied.

Yuji Itadori takes pride in having a girlfriend who can bake. Every time you make something, you’ll always have to make extras so he can take it for his friends. Gives them to others with the biggest smile on his face saying that you were the one who made them. He’s quite literally your number-one fan. Encourages you to open some sort of shop, even if you claim it’s just a hobby, so he can pass on the delight of these sweets to others. Everyone has to know what a real dessert tastes like! But you always have to make sure that there’s plenty left for him.

Megumi Fushiguro doesn’t mind it. He doesn’t go out of his way to ask for anything but if you offer, sure he’ll take some. As long as it’s not anything insanely sweet, he quite enjoys it. Loves it when you make something with dark chocolate though. He drinks black coffee of course he wouldn’t mind some dark chocolate cookies or something simple like a fruit coated in dark chocolate. Whenever you do manage to get him to eat something a little more on the sweeter side, he never complains. It’s something that you made. He claims to never say anything against it because that would be rude but really, it’s the only sweet thing he’ll ever fully enjoy without complaining.

Yuta Okkotsu enjoys making sweets for you! It started when one day you gave him a cupcake as a treat for the stress that he’s endured, then the next day he gives you a 2 tiered cake. This man will always give you something in return. Sure he might’ve never considered the idea of baking but once you two started dating and he saw how much you enjoyed it, he started practicing so one day you two can do it together. It slowly became normal for you two to make each other something every once in a while. Sure his baking might be really good, but he claims that he’ll never reach your level. There’s something about your sweets that makes his day instantly better.

⁺ ﹒ ˚ ₊ ‧꒰ა ﹒ ✦﹒ ໒꒱ ‧ ₊ ˚ ﹒ ⁺

notes ; i wrote this because i was watching a baking show LMAOO

300 notes · View notes

luveline · 2 days

Note

Hellooo!! I saw your requests were open so I thought I'd ask if you could do singer/guitarist reader who fucked up on a gig (totally not self projecting here) and she like forgot some lyrics and stuff and she's just really upset and poly!marauders or really any of them comfort her

If not I totally get it and no worries!!

ty for requesting!! fem!reader, 1k

The best part about having more than one boyfriend is that one of them is bound to be good at something if the others aren’t. So while Remus can’t usually lift heavy things and Sirius doesn’t want to, James is more than happy to help your band pack up their things at the end of the night.

It also helps that he’s a bit of a fanboy about it. He might jokingly ask you for your autograph from time to time, but he genuinely likes talking to your bandmates about the songs you play and the equipment. You can hear him talking someone’s ear off as the other boys in the band huff and puff as they lift the amps into the back of the van.

“Why are you all silent?” Sirius asks, blowing a breath into your ear.

It’s not a very Sirius question. He sounds teasing, and his hand is playful as he pulls you into his side against the hood of his car, eyes on Remus where he chats across the car park to a friend.

You look up into his face. “M’not.”

“Ah, forgive me. I must be going deaf.”

You press your cheek to his shoulder. “You are. Hope that helps.”

“Of course it does.”

He hooks your shirt with his pinky and slides his hand onto bare skin, scratching at your tummy and ribs with short nails. “You don’t want to tell me?”

You turn further into him, hiding from his nagging questions, though you answer, because he’ll only find a way to drag it from you, and because you’d desperately like some reassurance. “I messed up really badly tonight. I ruined the set.”

“You didn’t ruin the set. You did mess up, but really badly is subjective.” Sirius looks down at you on his shoulder, his breath warming your skin, strands of his hair falling onto your face softly, you’re that close. “Everyone messes up,” he murmurs, “doesn’t mean you ruined it.”

Remus’ voice carries from a few feet away, “Where’s James?”

“He’s still helping. Our poor angel can’t use her arms, it seems.”

You and Remus wrinkle your noses simultaneously. “Her arms are fine,” he says.

“James offered,” you butt in.

“I’m joking,” Sirius says, touching his nose to your face, drawing a soft line before pulling away. He leans back casually. “It’s what people tend to do when their partners are upset.”

You needle him with your arm. “Dick.”

“You’re upset?” Remus asks.

That’s exactly why Sirius is a dick. You step away from his arm in time for Remus to stop in front of you and look you over in concern. “What’s the matter?” Remus asks.

“She’s embarrassed about forgetting the words earlier,” Sirius answers immediately.

You glare at him. He lays back against the car with an arm behind his head, grinning. Makes sense for him to be sweet and kiss you like that just to chuck you into the deep end.

“I didn’t want to say,” you mumble.

Remus sidles up to you, and he’s taking the same stance as Sirius, a teasing lightness that colours his smile as he wraps his arms around you. These boys are always hugging you.

“I don’t care if you want to say,” he murmurs, “you must tell me.” His hands clasp behind your back. “I won’t be left out.”

His face works into your neck, breath warms and tickles your skin.

He gives a scratch of kiss before he yanks away to meet your eyes. “Come on.”

“Messed up. Everyone saw. Set ruined.”

“Oh, oh,” he murmurs, “is that what you think happened?”

“Don’t be a liar,” you say.

“You forgot the words to one song. Everybody still had a good time, you looked amazing up there.” Remus leans far from you with his arms still braced behind your back, laughing as he says, “You were nearly perfect, and next time you’ll remember the embarrassment you’re feeling now and you won't forget the words.”

He kisses your cheek.

“Can we not tell James?” you ask.

“We have to.”

“I know.”

James is back sooner than you anticipated with a grin, the curls of his hair still perfect with pomade, not a drop of sweat on him. To your surprise, he doesn’t need to be told. “Oh, my girl,” he says proudly, jabbing your stomach with fake blows, “you did great! You only messed up one song!”

Remus winces, but you think perhaps James’ way of looking at it is best of all. You could’ve messed up every song you performed tonight but it was just one.

“You’re amazing,” he furthers, taking your face into both hands. “Fuck, you look amazing when you’re up there with your guitar like that. I had a dream once we were in a band together. Remus got all handsy with you–”

“Are you sure you’ve got the right man?” Sirius asks, letting Remus pull him up from the hood.

“It might’ve been me,” James concedes. “I know it’s not like me to ask for something back, but I did all that heavy lifting for you shortcake, and I’m dying for an encore.”

You’re not sure if he’s asking for something more than a show, your cheek turning hot in his hold. He encourages your face to his, his nose tapping yours up for a long, slow moving kiss, at odds with his flirtations but not his touches. His hands drag sluggishly down to your shoulders, the breath he takes on your lips like a happy sigh.

“Get off of her, pervert,” Sirius says, jostling you both apart. “We’re in public.”

“It’s just a kiss. I’m very proud of her, Sirius. She deserves a good kiss.”

You fluster in his hands.

411 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 2 days

Text

What Once Was

A perspective shift, a pause, a brief respite before doubt takes hold again. Android!Ghost feels his heart beat.

You grew up in Manchester, or at least you had a job out there. You don’t like thinking about “growing up.” As far as you’re concerned you’ve been doing this your whole life. Fixing things. You had a job, an apprenticeship, with a bot mechanic at one of the industrial plants. You’d taught yourself coding, but at risk of electrocution you’d found someone to teach you the rest. It was hard, but the work was rewarding. You were young, but unlike people, bots care more about the results than how long a doctor has been a doctor. They didn’t ask questions, they didn’t know they should have.

The area was rough, you always liked the industrial parts of town, but even you could admit the place had seen better days. There was this old butcher shop. Real old school, but people like that. Meat tastes better when it’s cut by human hands, you’d heard someone say once. And there was this kid working there, Simon, he couldn’t have been much older than you. You saw him on your lunch breaks sometimes. You shared your sandwich with him.

He smiled sometimes, more than you would have thought given everything you knew about him. He liked working with his hands, you got that. He liked being away from home, you got that too. He never called you crazy when you talked about bots like they were people. He was sweet, you liked that about him.

He disappeared one day, without saying goodbye. You figured that was just what happened to people who lived like you two did. You didn’t even bother with a police report. Maybe you should have.

You still sit with your knees pulled up to your chest when you’re working on small parts. Your brows still furrow the way they did when you were a teenager. Ghost watches you flip down your magnifier over your eyes and remembers teasing you about needing glasses from squinting too much. You still blow the dust out of old cartridges and stick them into your arsenal of wires just to listen to the technicolor drone of ancient video games while you work.

“Just the music,” you’d told him years and years ago, “it helps me focus.”

You’re exactly the same, and yet you’re so unfathomably different. Or maybe he’s different. Different in the ways that matter most, in the ways that mean you’ll never recognize him. It’s better like this. He’s been through too much to be the sort of man you deserve. Barely a man at all, really.

That doesn’t stop him from circling you, like a moth to a flame, or a weary soldier to the comfort of home. He finds himself in your workshop with repairs that aren’t repairs, with injuries that he’s never been bothered by before. Ghost sits and lets you run diagnostics, lets you poke and prod at his gears, and he never says a word. Never mentions that you still look beautiful in work lights, that you shouldn’t hold your tweezers in your mouth because you always pinch your lip, that you’re still you even when he isn’t sure he’s still himself. He never mentions that he has a million things he’s never told you, that he wanted to tell you but never got the chance to.

He thinks them sometimes: when he’s watching you work, when you smile up at a bot warmly, when you ask him what’s wrong, when you start walking towards him before you even know what he needs, when you lay your hands on him and he flips every sensor to try and feel your warmth. He thinks that he loves you, that no matter how little of him is left he’ll always love you. He could love you with nothing, with bare circuits and white matter, and that would be enough to keep him going.

It was enough to keep him going. It isn’t anymore. Not when you’re here, so close and still a thousand miles away. Not when you don’t recognize him, when you don’t see the scrawny kid from Manchester in the corded steel and dense circuitry.

Did you think of him when he left? Did you worry? It always felt melancholic, said as a joke that neither of you laughed at: it’s gonna kill me one day, this world’s gonna kill me. Was that what you thought happened? When you knew about his father, when he sat down for lunch with fresh bruises and a split lip, did you think that’s what happened when he didn’t show up the next day? Did you mourn him?

He should have taken you with him. Sixteen. Young enough to kill for a living, but still too young to save you. He couldn’t save anyone, couldn’t even save himself.

They shouldn’t have put him back together.

Not if it meant he’d see you again.

Not if it meant you’d look at him like this,

Like nothing.

Repairs that aren’t repairs. Injuries that never bothered him before. Diagnostics. Circling. He knows it will burn him, he can feel the heat, but he can’t stop. Androids aren’t supposed to feel. Men aren’t supposed to be metal. And you don’t love him.

Not anymore.

(If you ever did.)

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #android!ghost #cyberpunk au #gn!reader

268 notes · View notes

beenbaanbuun · 16 hours

Text

the butler w/ addams!matz

good… so, so good.

your eyes are squeezed shut, teeth gripping onto your bottom lip for dear life. with every thrust of seonghwa’s hips, it gets harder and harder for you to stay silent, but you can’t let a moan slip free. not when you have hongjoong behind you reminding you that your mutt is still asleep… you wouldn’t want to wake him up so early, right?

in reality, you know that hongjoong doesn’t care. you know it’s just one more thing for the two of them to have control over, telling you how loud or quiet you’re allowed to be. normally, they like to head you squeal, but this morning it seems they want to watch you struggle. they want to see your face contort as you desperately attempt to keep your squeaks inside. they want to tease you as you look up at them with watery eyes. they just want to be mean.

seonghwa slips a finger through the ring of your collar, tugging on it a little in a way that normally has you whimpering for them. today, you just squeeze your eyes shut and let your laboured breathing echo through the room. the moan that’s trying to bubble up from your throat quickly gets shut down. you’re a good girl, you remind yourself; good girls follow instructions.

“that’s it,” hums at his normal volume, blatantly disregarding his own rules. it’s as if he doesn’t care about the werewolf supposedly sleeping a few rooms over. as if he already knows that yeosang is probably perched right outside their door, waiting for the second the bed stops squeaking so he can come in and ‘guard’ you whilst you’re still lost in the mist of post-orgasm bliss. “keep those little sounds to yourself, hm? it’s still too early for you to be as loud as you usually are.”

you squirm in protest, but with seonghwa’s dick deep inside of you, you only make it more difficult for yourself. his solid member prods a against your walls in a way that has you melting. a bolt of pleasure shoots up your spine and your jaw drops, a strangled gargle coming out of you as you’re too late to quell the sound all together. you half expect a a quick spank to your thigh, or some sort of foul-mouthed reprimand, but hongjoong just gives you a low chuckle as he kisses your temple.

you’re grateful for the softness; you wouldn’t have been able to stop the sounds if they were to turn up the roughness.

“such a brat…” he grins against your skin as his hand finds purchase on your stomach, slowly making its way south.

“not a brat,” you rebut. your voice is strained from barely being able to hold back the moan that wants to fall from you as hongjoong’s fingers find your clit. you suck in a harsh breath as he rubs teasingly slow circles against you. the tension in your stomach is building like an elastic band, tugging at your sanity as it gets closer and closer to snapping. with the determined finger on your bud and the increasingly sloppy thrusts into your hole, it’s only a matter of time.

but seonghwa reaches his high first, muttering a quick apology before burying himself deep within your walls and letting his cum flow into you. you clench around him, just the way you know he likes you to. it pulls a long, guttural moan from his throat as you milk him dry. you can’t help but internally scoff at the knowledge that he’s allowed to make as much noise as he wants and yet you’re a brat if you let so much as a peep slip. you pout your lips in dismay, a sarcastic comment on the tip of your tongue, but then hongjoong kisses you and everything melts into the abyss of pleasure. suddenly you don’t care about the hypocrisy of your mommy and daddy’s rules; you just care about them.

and that’s when you cum too; with seonghwa’s softening dick plugging your cum-filled hole, hongjoong’s lips on yours and his finger on your clit, it’s hard to hold it in. your stomach muscles tense as your spine lifts from the mattress in a perfect arc. neither of them bother to pin you back down, simply enjoying how your pleasure feels to them. the way your lips part slightly against hongjoong’s as you let out another tiny sound into his awaiting maw, the way you grind into seonghwa’s oversensitive cock as he tries to keep some of his own sounds at bay. it all feels so perfect…

and then it’s over.

you chest heaves as hongjoong slows his digits to a stop before pulling his hand away to rest on your thigh. seonghwa pulls out too, a soft grunt echoing through the room as he topples to the side of you and tugs you into his chest. you feel the way his cum oozes from your twitching hole so you clench, desperate to keep as much of it inside as possible. you’re not sure why; it just feels right.

hongjoong shuffles in closer until you’re pressed between the two of them, a mound of sticky bodies, each of you indistinguishable from the next. it’s warm and sweaty and honestly a little gross feeling, but you find yourself too tired to care. you close your eyes, tipping your head against seonghwa’s chest. his hand meets the back of your head, fingers delving into your hair and tangling themselves within your locks. you focus on that soft tugging as the door to the bedroom unlatches and a pair of footsteps make their way to the bed.

“morning, yeosang,” hongjoong mumbles as the werewolf crawls onto the foot of the bed and flops tiredly onto the pile of feet. it’s hardly the comfiest spot for him to lie, but he doesn’t care. as long as he gets to be close to you, he finds himself caring increasingly little about his own comfort. “i hope we didn’t wake you,” it’s hard to miss the teasing in his voice; you let your elbow ‘accidentally’ jab into his ribs.

“i was awake before the three of you even started,” the wolf hums as his tail flicks. it lands suspiciously close to your leaking pussy; you really hope he doesn’t mind getting seonghwa’s cum in his fur. “i started guarding at 7:30,” he says, although he really means that he started listening in on the fucking at that time, “and then there was a knock on the door at 7:50 so i went to investigate. it was just some guy claiming to be your new butler. i told him to wait in the living room but i’ll be surprised if he stayed; the sound of the bed squeaking is surprisingly loud down there. i think you’ve scarred him for life…”

“oh hell,” hongjoong pulls himself up into a sitting position, though his hand never leaves your thigh. you smile as he gives the flesh a gentle squeeze, “i forgot that he was supposed to arrive today,” with his other hand he wipes at his face frustratedly, “thank the devil we made our little dove keep the volume down; i’m not quite sure i want a complete stranger hearing all your pretty sounds.”

you can’t help but blush at his words, the idea of someone outside of the three of them hearing your moans setting something alight within you. something good, or something bad… you’re not quite sure know the answer to that just yet. although, the way your thighs involuntarily clench, trapping yeosang’s tail between them, seems to have you leaning in one direction. the wolf yelps a little, but it seems only you pick up on it. you release your grip on his tail and look at him in apology; all you get in response is a knowing smirk.

that annoying little mutt…

“we best go and greet the poor man,” seonghwa sighs, although the way he tightens his grip on you lets you know that he intents to let hongjoong do all of that. your daddy gets the message and lets his hand slip from your thigh. you whine, but he only huffs out a laugh as he stands up. before you can complain any more, he pats the mattress as an invitation. yeosang takes it, squirming his way up the bed until he’s flush to your back, just like hongjoong had been. you melt into his warmth.

“you can’t say ‘we’ and then refuse to move, cara mia,” he laughs as he picks up the silk bottoms he’d been wearing not too long ago. they slide over his thighs and sit low on his hips; you let out a contented sigh at the view, “but i suppose i don’t quite mind; so long as my loves are happy, i’d do whatever you asked of me.”

“does that include me?” yeosang purrs. hongjoong scoffs.

“don’t get ahead of yourself, mutt,” the door to the bedroom unlatches once more, “you’re lucky i’m not forcing you to give san the grand tour…”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez smut #opposites attract universe #matz x reader #poly ateez smut #poly ateez x reader #yeosang x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader

203 notes · View notes