#because honestly this might be my best piece yet
Note
hii uhh, i had a little idea that id like to share if thats ok, it might be quite triggering tho so be warned ‼️
a sinner demon reader thats based on a teddy bear, because theyre too soft and mushy personality-wise, and they ended up in hell due to being suicidal. like their whole body is covered in stitches thats supposed to be a metaphor for sh scars
do whatever u want with that info, u can even ignore it if u like, have a nice day ❤️
Hazbin Hotel Cast with a Teddy Bear!Sinner Reader
Includes: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Sir. Pentious, Cherri Bomb, Alastor.
A/N: this is such an interesting idea! I’m going based on my own experiences as someone like this, along with research. I appreciate you for trusting me with this <3 I definitely WILL make a p2!! Might write for this sinner more tbh I loved writing them!! I thought you meant a child and I wrote that I’m so sorry 😭
Charlie Morningstar
She truly didn’t understand why you were in hell.
You are such a sweetheart! She adores you.
When you showed up to the hotel one day, without clothes and covered in stitches, she was immediately worried.
She took you in and washed you up as best as she could.
You were like a child! Why were you even here?
She was happy that you wanted to be redeemed, however.
She became a mother figure to you.
You go to her when you’re sad and you hug her frequently.
She traces your scars sometimes and you two share a silent moment together.
A silent moment of understanding.
She loves picking you up and holding you!
She hugs you like you’re an actual teddy bear.
She’s the one you go to for emotional things.
She’s good at comforting you. She somehow knows what you wanna hear at all times.
Vaggie
She became a secondary mother figure to you.
She was Charlie’s girlfriend, so of course she was.
She understood your situation and was pissed heaven casted a sweetie like you because of your lowest point.
She’s the more levelheaded one.
She’s the one who gives you advice and stuff like that. While Charlie is the more emotionally supportive one, Vaggie is the more mature and steady one.
She also traces your scars. Even if you don’t like them, she tells you you’re beautiful no matter what.
When you told her more of your story, she almost cried.
A child feeling this way broke her to pieces. Especially since you were so soft.
Other than the sad stuff, she loves cuddling you.
You, her, and Charlie sometimes have cuddle sessions with you in the middle because you’re so warm + soft + squishy.
She would kill anyone for you. You’re just so adorable!
She tries to teach you to fight but gives up when you don’t want to hurt anyone.
Angel Dust
Honestly, he saw himself in you.
A lost, scared, and lonely child. You didn’t know the cruelties of the world, aside from those cruelties in your mind.
He tries his best to comfort you. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always there for you.
He calls you sugar bear! He loves you to death.
He would go to the ends of hell for you.
He treats you like he wished to be when he was the same way.
You two share a lot of similarities, so you bond well.
He nearly cried when you told him your stitches were scars from sh.
He embraces you any time he can.
He tries to be the parental figure he needed so you can have a better life, somewhere no one would judge you.
Husk
He’s stubborn, like a dad. He acts like one too.
A hardheaded, yet sweet dad.
He’s like the father you never had. Or did have. Whichever.
He’s the bartender, so he knew how to comfort.
But when you told him your story, he almost broke.
You two definitely sing some sort of song together. Maybe Angel or Vaggie joins.
He cuddles you and hides you with his wings.
If you give him baby doe eyes, he might just take you on a flight.
Husk is SUPER protective over you. He’s very similar to Vaggie in a way when it comes to protection.
He gives you good advice but he still hides behind his tough guy exterior.
He doesn’t understand why you’re down here, even if you tell him. You’re so sweet!
Either way, he adores you.
He loves patting your head and messing with your fuzzy ears.
Might even boop your nose once or twice.
Late night talks.
He probably talked you down from trying to commit again.
Niffty
Another tiny person! Yay!
You’re not a bad boy. She may be a psycho, but she would never call you bad.
Actually, she did once and felt bad once you cried.
She likes to hang out with you since you’re both tiny!
She cuddles and hugs you like you’re her stuffed animal.
Bug killers! Even if you don’t wanna kill bugs, she’s dragging you along anyways.
She tries to hide her needle from you since Husk told her what your stitches meant.
Alastor has to babysit both of you basically.
You and her do almost everything together! You’re best friends!
She sneaks into the kitchen and grabs you both snacks so you can watch a movie.
She makes you sleep in her bed sometimes so she can cuddle you.
Sir. Pentious
He’s a dad. Or, he was.
He treats you like he wishes he treated his son before he passed.
He acts like your father. An awkward father, but he still tries.
He also protects you.
Expect him to curl his tail around you and cuddle you when you’re sad.
He literally cried when you told him your story.
He tells you anytime he can that it’s not your fault. Your stitches are still beautiful.
Best girl dad ever.
Buys you anything he wants, even if he’s broke. (Except sharp things)
He teaches you some things about inventing!
You made him a little metal flower and he was so overjoyed. He took it with him everywhere.
He still remembers you, even if he’s in Heaven now.
Cherri Bomb
Chaotic auntie energy.
She would do ANYTHING for you.
She picks you up and places you on her hip like a baby.
She loves your ears! She also adores how sweet you are.
She wouldn’t admit it, but you’re the cutest thing she’s ever seen.
Even if you tell her your story, she wouldn’t see you differently. You’re a child, a child who went through so much.
Hangouts with her and Angel are a MUST.
They try to avoid doing the normal around you and focus on fun time.
She took you with her when she had a territorial fight one time and you almost cried.
She felt so bad that she bought you anything you wanted for a week.
She did anything you wanted to do, even if Husk or someone else said no to you.
Basically, if you wanted something, you went to her.
Alastor
He’s not one to like kids, really.
He was, however, kinder to you.
He did anything to protect you.
He was like your insane uncle.
He was the one who taught you how to use your abilities. Maybe to help you, or to manipulate you when you grow.
He made you jambalaya once and it became your favorite dish to share with him!
He introduced you to radio and he was happy that you loved it.
He started bringing you to his studio whenever he did a radio show.
He took you to an overlord meeting once. That’s how you met Rosie.
He pats your head like a dog lol.
Don’t expect him to be emotionally available. But he will be there to have fun sometimes.
#hazbin hotel x reader#helluva boss x reader#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#charlie x reader#hazbin charlie#charlie morningstar#vaggie x reader#vaggie#angel dust x reader#hazbin hotel angel dust#angel dust#husk x reader#hazbin hotel husk#husk hazbin hotel#niffty x reader#niffty#nifty hazbin hotel#nifty#hazbin nifty#sir pentious x reader#sir pentious#cherri bomb#cherri bomb x reader#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#alastor#teddy bear#Teddy bear reader#sinner reader
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guys how do we feel about a 1940s au ghost fic?
it’s here!!!
#cause if someone says no i’ll cry#because honestly this might be my best piece yet#simon ghost riley call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x fem!reader#simon ghost riley x f!reader#cod#call of duty fanfic#call of duty x reader#modern warfare#modern warfare 2#ghost modern warfare 2#ghost x reader#ghost x fem!reader#ghost x f!reader
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“DIDJA SEE THAT, DANNY?!” Tim, a scrawny eleven year old now, excitedly smacked Danny’s arm.
“Ow. Yes, yes I did.”
“Oh, gosh, I have to tell Jazz about this!!” The kid waved his arms about wildly, grinning from ear to ear.
“Jaso- I mean, Robin, smiled at me! And said he liked my t-shirt!! Oh my god, he likes literature puns, he even laughed! And then he punched the bad guy in the face! Look! I even saved the tooth!”
“Okayyy, nope!” Danny plucked the tooth and tossed it, ignoring Tim’s betrayed face. “I’ll trade you that for this.”
Danny Held out a piece of paper with Robin’s and Batman’s sigil on it, from when he asked them to sign it after they “saved” the two brothers from the two-bit thugs trying to mug them.
“Oh. My. God. This is like the best day of my life!! I love you, Danny! You’re the best brother ever!! Oh my god! I have to get Nightwing’s signature!!!”
Danny felt a rush of warmth at Tim’s proclamation of affection. Ah, he should probably step in.
“Hey, wait, no, we’re not going to Blüdhaven for you to stalk another vigilante.”
“It’s not just any old vigilante-!” Tim ignored Danny’s dramatic clutching-pearls gesture of mock hurt. “It’s Nightwing. The original Robin! He gave me my first ever hug!”
Danny paused. God dammit.
“…Fine.”
“YESSSSSS!!!!”
——
Danny-
“I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”
-is so damn tired.
“Tim. I’m literally a vigilante ghost. What makes you think I’d be stupid enough to argue with a kid who runs around Gotham at night to take pictures of other vigilantes?”
Tim deflated. “Oh. Honestly, I thought you’d put up more of a fight…”
Jazz laughed and ruffled Tim’s hair. “I definitely couldn’t stop Danny when he went out. He trusted me to support him and I trusted him to come to me if he was injured, though. Can you promise me that, Tim?”
“Yeah… okay, Jazz, I promise.” Tim promised, even if he was still pouty.
Danny chimed in.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally worried and I’m gonna hover like a mother hen when you go out, but again, I know how stubborn and crazy we vigilante types have to be.” Danny paused. “Do you want me to put up a token protest?”
Tim nodded, sulking. “Yes, please. I had a speech planned out.”
Jazz and Danny exchanged amused glances.
“Oh, okay, my bad, kiddo. Here, let’s start from the top.”
“Okay. Ahem,” Tim straightened his back, settling into his previous mulish expression once more. “I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”
Danny placed an appropriately disapproving frown on his face. “No, you can’t! It’s dangerous! You could get hurt! You’re just a child!”
Tim launched into his speech. “But I can’t stay still and do nothing when people are getting hurt! Even…!”
They were gonna be here for a while. There was definitely something about Batman going on a spiral because Jason wouldn’t be able to walk again after the Joker got to him. Danny wondered if ectoplasm could help. He might offer, if it actually had a change of getting Tim out of the vigilante business.
But that’s for later, because they had time. Jazz was on Spring Break… and they’re still staying here for free, after all of these years.
“So, how are you going to convince Robin to let you be Robin?” Jazz asked Tim.
Tim froze. “I… hadn’t thought of that yet.”
“Well, you could always remind him of the fact that we saved him from the Joker. He seemed pretty ready to leave the Robin mantle, the last time I saw him as Phantom.”
“I don’t want to blackmail him into it!” Tim whined.
“It’ll just be a suggestion, Tim.” Jazz smiled patiently.
“Besides,” Danny continued, smirking mischievously at his adopted little brother. “If you were actually blackmailing him, you’d pull out the photos where he ate dirt.”
“I guess that’s true…” Tim mumbled. “I know! I’ll have to follow them to see how I can best approach him!”
"I think that's called stalking," Jazz deadpanned.
"Well, it's not any worse than what he's already done." Danny shrugged at his older sister. "Sure, kid. Why not? Do whatever you want."
"I was planning to!" Tim bounced off to grab his photography gear. Jazz stared off after him.
"Should we be encouraging that?"
"More like can we actually stop him?" Danny leaned back, lazily completing his GED assignments. Jazz sighed.
"Guess not. Make sure he doesn't get in trouble."
"Do you even know how hard that is, Jazz?" Danny complained, dodging the whack Jazz sent at the back of his head. She smirked at him.
"Womp, womp, Danny. How does karma taste today?"
Danny flipped her off as he put the last punctuation on the paper. He heard a clatter and groaned.
“I’m gonna go watch Tim stalk Batman for the night. Want anything from the store?”
Jazz hummed. “Get me the specialty strawberry ice cream, from that one place?”
“The one that’s definitely a front for Falcone’s money laundering??”
“Yeah. They make good strawberry ice cream.”
“Sure.”
Danny went ghost and flew straight through the walls to catch Tim sneaking out by the scruff of his collar.
“No. Bad Tim.”
“Awww, come on Danny!”
#danny phantom#batman#tim drake#bruce wayne#jason todd#dc x dp#dick grayson#nightwing#bamf danny phantom#dcxdp#dpxdc#Tim is a fanboy above all fanboys#Jason is just straight up not having a good time#baby Jason would totally giggle with a kid and punch a grown man in the face right after#jazz: oh how the tables have tabled#jazz Fenton#Danny Fenton#squatter! danny fenton
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tsumiki asks the question on a rare, relaxed saturday afternoon. with both the kid’s baseball games canceled due to some heavy morning rain, the four of you were taking the time to do some much needed relaxation.
“how did you guys end up together?”
satoru lifts his head from your lap, where you’d been plucking his brows. “isn’t it obvious? it was due to my roguishly handsome good looks and sharp comedic wit.”
megumi scoffs from his spot on the armchair. “i doubt that.”
you press your cheek against your boyfriend’s shoulder, laughing. “that’s cute, babe, but do you want to tell them how it really happened? or should i?”
“i’ll tell them,” he volunteers. “because i have been in love with you a lot longer than you might think.”
_____
satoru meets you when he’s seventeen years old. (it’s a stupid age. ‘cause when you’re seventeen, you’re all hormones and ego and think the world revolves around you.)
so he doesn’t pay you much mind when yaga first introduces you to his little class, because honestly? he’d taken one look at you, fresh out of the countryside with your perfectly pressed uniform, not a hair out of place or a battle scar on your body and was extremely underwhelmed. so he’d brushed you off like lint on his sleeve, because he doubted you’d even survive the year. no point in getting to try and know you.
that same afternoon, you’d unleashed hell on him with your shikigami and almost broken his nose.
“i’m sorry,” you’d muttered when you’d forcibly accompanied him to the infirmary.
“you don’t sound sorry,” he’d huffed. his nose (and his ego) were definitely bruised.
you rolled your eyes and muttered something that was probably really mean under your breath. he’s about to tell you off when he feels blood start to drip again, cursing and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tilts his head back.
“you’re supposed to tilt your head forward,” you sigh, handing him another folded up piece of paper towel.
he doesn’t take it, glaring down at you. “why would i do that?”
shoko and geto walk behind you both, highly amused by your bickering. “they’d be good together, don’t you think?”
“if they don’t kill each other first.” the latter chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he eyes you both.
“if you tilt your head forward, then the blood drips out and not in–”
“why? that’s where the blood is supposed to be.”
“no, it’s not, and if you’d just let me finish what i was saying instead of interrupting me–”
it’s not the last time he interrupts you. it’s not the last time the two of you bicker or the last time he walks with you through the courtyard. days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, and even though you’d almost broken his nose that first day, he quickly realizes that he couldn’t imagine you anywhere but with him.
_____
it’s late when he sneaks out of your room, sunset streaming through the courtyard as he peeks around the corner, on the lookout for any faculty before he dashes back to the boy’s dorm…
…only to run into geto, who’s standing outside. he feels bad for a second, because they haven’t really talked since…well, everything.
but he just flicks his cigarette, grinning in that all too knowing way of his. “what were you doing in the girl’s wing, creeper?”
“nothing,” he lies, but his cheeks are warm, there are butterflies in his stomach, and he can’t seem to stop smiling.
his best friend looks at him. really looks at him. “oh, man. you’re so obvious.”
“i’m not obvious, you’re obvious,” he retorts.
geto takes another drag before holding it out to him. gojo shakes his head. “you’re one of the smartest, yet dumbest people i know. so i’m going to help you now, because i think without guidance, you are capable of making extremely rash romantic decisions.”
“that’s not true–”
“it’s very true. like that fact that you’re in love with…” geto nods his head towards the girl’s dorm, grinning.
he tucks his chin under the collar of his jacket when he feels heat crawl up his neck, looking away. “that’s ridiculous. i’m not…it’s not like that. we’re just…hanging out.”
“really?” his friend checks. “because the way that you look at her, i mean…wow. we’ve all seen it. you look at her like you hear tiny forest animals singing whenever she walks into a room.”
satoru bristles slightly, because he’s not entirely off the mark.
(but seventeen is a stupid age, and at the time he knew he cared for you deeply, but he didn’t know he loved you yet.)
geto knows though, and just shrugs. “i know you’ll see it someday too.”
_____
“do these shoes go with my outfit?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.
gojo shrugs, hardly even glancing up from his phone. “sure.”
“you didn’t even look!”
he exhales a harsh breath, tossing his phone onto your bed as he looks up at you. “why are you trying so hard for some guy you don’t even like? i mean– have you even met him?”
“no,” you sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress. “but me meeting him is really important to my father.”
he leans back against your headboard, folding his hands behind his head. “why?”
“because a proposal from the kamo clan is a really big deal.” you startle when he sits up so fast that his glasses fall from their perch atop his head. “oh my– what’s wrong?!”
“everything about that sentence. a proposal? as in to be wed?”
“yes, gojo,” you confirm, turning back to adjust your earrings in the mirror. “i was born outside of the zen’in clan, but i have their inherited technique. my dad…all these years he’s worked hard to keep me off their radar so i wouldn’t be stuck there. so i wouldn’t be unhappy like he was. if i accept this proposal and join the kamo clan…all his hard work wouldn’t be for nothing.”
“the kamo clan,” he repeats, shaking his head. he’s not sure why he’s so annoyed. it’s hard to pinpoint the exact reason. “they’re based in kyoto. you’d– you’d have to leave.”
he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but all the unsaid things that he’s been too scared to admit to himself (and especially to you) must be written all over his face, because you hesitate before you step out the door, looking back at him hopefully.
“have fun,” is all he says instead, pretending not to notice when your expression falls. “i’ll probably be out when you get back, but just text so i know you’re alright and haven’t already been whisked off to kyoto.”
_____
“but you never joined the kamo clan,” tsumiki notes, sending you a questioning look. “why did your dad to change his mind?”
“i…actually still don’t know,” you admit, smiling softly. “he’s never told me.”
“well, whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter now. ‘cause you’re right where you’re supposed to be,” satoru grins. he presses a soft kiss to your lips, but pulls back with a laugh when the kids groan loudly. “on that note, i’m going to start cleaning up.”
megumi, who’d been silent the entire story, gets up to help, trailing after him into the kitchen.
“it was you,” he says once you and tsumiki are out of earshot.
satoru sets the stack of plates on the counter, glancing over his shoulder at him. “hm?”
“you made some kind of deal with her family, didn’t you? like you did for me.”
he doesn’t answer right away, moving leftover vegetables into a container. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
besides, that was then and this was now. he’s older and wiser and he knows that he’s loved you since he was seventeen years old.
_____
your father seems taken aback, and not just because satoru gojo was standing in his study, but because of what he was proposing. “excuse me?”
blue eyes land on a photo of you on your father’s desk. you’re cherished here. loved. letting you go must be hard, even if it’s for your own good. “you want to keep her away from the zen’in’s right? if she joins the gojo clan, we’ll make the idea of even coming near her radioactive.”
“but the only way to do that is–”
“marriage. to me, specifically,” he finishes with an easy shrug, as if he’s merely speaking about the weather. “quick, easy, simple. now you can reject the kamo clan’s proposal.”
your father is a smart man, that much is obvious. he’s kept you out of the zen’in’s grasp for years, even after news of your inherited technique had spread. there’s no way he’d turn down a deal as good as this.
“i have nothing to offer you,” he says now, expression pinched. “no dowry, or things of the like.”
“i don’t need your money,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “in fact, i only have three conditions.”
gojo’s three conditions
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#keeping up with the fushigojos
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Author with cultural disconnect: How do I write without making it seem as if I hate my own heritage?
Anonymous asked:
I’m a white-passing Asian author, and I’ve never felt all that connected with my heritage.
My current story centers on a fairy (re: fantasy-world POC) child and ends with her realizing that her parents are toxic af and her human best friend’s family takes her in. This is the perfect opportunity to sort through my own issues with my heritage and finally convince my monkey-brain that it’s okay to not know how to cook Vietnamese food or celebrate tet or speak Vietnamese…
But I also realize that if I’m not careful, this could easily slip into “Hey, I hate my heritage and so should you!” So how can I stop that from happening?
Writing for yourself first, not an audience
I ask you a simple question: why put pressure on yourself to have any sort of non-offensive messaging for a story that hasn’t been drafted yet and is to convince your monkey brain it’s okay to exist as yourself?
That seems like the fastest way to stop the story from being actually cathartic and instead a performance art piece when you already feel hung up on performing as “properly” part of your culture.
As I said in Working Through Identity Issues and Other Pitfalls of Representation, not all stories you write need to be for public consumption. Especially stories you’re using for your own self-processing and therapy, because you’re trying to get a cathartic moment that is rewriting your own story.
At what point does the public need to be involved in that?
I do understand the compulsion to want to post—I have definitely posted some Questionable™ material in my drive to get validation for feeling the way I do, wanting people to witness me and say “same.” It’s a powerful urge. Sometimes it’s worked, but most of the time it’s just made me feel horrifically exposed.
But you really do not have to post in public to get any sort of validation. Set up a groupchat with friends if you want the cheerleading and witnessing—people who will know your story and give you good-faith interpretations and won’t accuse you of anything. Honestly I’d suggest setting up this groupchat anyway; as someone who just got one again after quite a few years without it, my productivity has skyrocketed from being around supportive people.
Let the monkey brain have its monkey brain moment and shut off the concept the story is for the public. Shut off the concept of performing for an unknown audience. It’s for you. Be authentic, no matter how bad it would look to outsiders. They’re not reading it. Part of getting catharsis, sometimes, is being the worst version of yourself, somewhere nobody else can see it.
Deciding to publish the work
If, after you do write it, you find that you actually do want to polish it up and put it somewhere… edit it. Rewrite it entirely if that’s what it takes. Take the story through the same drafting process every story needs to go through, ripping out the unfortunate implications as you go.
Editing can be its own form of healing, as you try to figure out what this character would need to not be hateful. As you realize, once this longform journal entry is out of your head, what was bothering you now that you can see it pinned down on a page. But you absolutely do not need to write with the intention of editing in that healing. When I’ve tried, it’s fallen flat.
The healing will come from being yourself, no public involved, and writing about your feelings in their rawest form. Anything else is extra.
There’s no point in trying to put guard rails on the drafting process, not for a deeply personal piece. And by the time that drafting process is done, you’ll likely have specific scenarios and contexts that you can ask about, and you might even have ideas on how to fix it yourself once the story has a shape to it.
This is 100% a situation where there’s no real sense in idea workshopping something in the plotting stage. You’re doing something for you. Decide if it’s for public consumption later (while acknowledging “no” is a perfectly valid answer), and only figure out how to make the story not overtly harmful if you decide to put it out into the public.
~ Leigh
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Drink Responsibly: Chapter 1
ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader
Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only!
Platonic!Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader
Warnings: Bad life choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o, they're vampires, loooong age gaps, no proofreading, reverse harem.
Writer's Note: I am so tired. I exist only because of caffeine and spite. So here you go, Chapter 2 is done as well. It will come out Friday hopefully.
Grey eyes stare into yours as you try your hardest to not squirm under the intensity. How did you get to be where you are? You have no clue. Honestly, there shouldn’t have been a callback. You should not have landed this opportunity for the second interview. The initial screening process should have weened you out in the first place.
From what you had gathered from the chatty chauffeur in the town car, (the town car! They knew you had no car to get to Wayne Manor, let alone to your job. Yet they still sent you someone to go pick you up from your ratty apartment.) This was all ordained by someone much higher than Mr. Pennyworth in front of you. The talk with the chauffeur had almost put you at ease until you looked out the window and saw the heavy iron gate open to Wayne Manor’s winding driveway. There’s no doubt in your mind. You shouldn’t be here. In more ways than one.
It made your bandages itch the more you thought about it. You couldn't scratch them like the feral animal you were deep down inside. At least, not when you're being as heavily scrutinized as you are now.
“I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into my dear.”, the butler says.
“I want this job.”
He sighs then and reaches for the cup of tea sitting on the table next to him. When you got to the Manor, Mr. Pennyworth had met you at the front step. He still ushered you through a side entrance and a winding set of narrow hallways until you reached the sitting room you were now in. Not that you were complaining about being treated like a servant when you were trying to like hell to land the job.
If ever there was an excellent place to kill someone, this was it. You find yourself thinking as you look away from him and study the art on the walls. The manor itself was far removed from society and the small windowless study with the ornate crackling fireplace was oppressive as much as it was impressive. No one would ever hear you scream.
“The issue is not a matter of want. The issue is a matter of need.”, he says.
You watch him take a sip as a bead of sweat collects at the back of your neck. It was getting too hot in here, and the bandage around your wrist was itching.
“I need it. No one wants to hire me”, You reply.
You’re not sure what you expect after you say that. Half of you were expecting him to start grilling you like he did during your interview two days ago. That one had taken place in daylight, in an ostentatious conference room at Wayne Enterprise's.
You were still waiting for him to pick you to the bone and say, “Why is that?”. The other half feels like the admittance makes you guilty. Guilty of going out that night. Guilty of getting caught in a crowd surge while blackout drunk. Guilty of the infected thralls that were unleashed by the Scarecrow goons. Guilty of killing the infected that had started ripping you to pieces. Not that you remember any of it, frustratingly enough. No one, not even the news, gave enough information on that night. Why was I there?
“How are you doing dear?” Pennyworth asks.
You blink. No one has asked that yet. Not by anyone that you feel genuinely wants to know the answer.
“Good. Sore, and I believe honesty is the best policy. I can’t dance like I used to.”, you joke.
It falls flat in the cramped space as you give him a tight grin. His grey eyes dart momentarily to the crutch that was resting next to the chair, and to the cast going slightly above your knee.
“Yes, honesty is such an important quality nowadays. Might I say, it is fortunate that you survived.”
“No one else thinks that. I’m just thankful that Duke was there. I was told he was the one that got me to the hospital. Now he’s gone and got me this interview.”
It’s funny. Time from that night seems disjointed. While you were black-out drunk, you do feel as though you were only in the club for five minutes. The attack happened at 12:45 am. You remember waking up in the hospital and finding your chart on your way to the bathroom. It said you were admitted at 2 am. The next time you managed to grab it, it had said 12:59 am. Not to mention your wounds were healing at a faster rate than most Omegas. Something was picking deep inside your skull.
“Luckily this job is not strenuous if you are up to the task.”
You nod at him. You need this.
“Well, there are rather strict rules. Breaking them is a breach of contract that will be handled severely. This isn’t like a regular job out there. Any problems that arise will not result in a simple firing.”, he pauses before continuing, “For example, personal electronic devices are prohibited in the Manor. Your bags will be thoroughly checked by me upon arrival. You will be allowed devices that are monitored by security.”
“I can’t just be cut off from my family”, you protest.
“We don’t want you to. You may make phone calls during your allotted time off. They will happen here, or in Master Bruce’s office with either him or me in the room. Your predecessor was fond of skirting her duties and we have found the need for such restrictions.”
“While excursions are discouraged, they are not prohibited. We will go over those security measures at a later time. You are to be readily available when called upon at any time they require something. While day workers are employed here, at no point are you allowed to interact with them.”
You can’t help the way your brows furrow. This was going to be a long year if you were to take this opportunity. With each rule, you wondered if this was why the position was empty for so long.
“I tend to the bedrooms, and at no point should you enter them unless invited by the occupant. You will be given a room as well, and I would appreciate cleanliness. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are all served at the same time, tardiness is prohibited.”
“Will I be helping in the kitchen?”, you ask.
“No. Not unless you want to, if you are going to cook, please notify me accordingly.”
“So, wait. I’m confused. Just what is my job here?”
Alfred sighs and for the first time since you’ve met the prim and proper gentleman, he seems a bit haggard. Which did not make you feel good.
“It gets awful lonely here in the manor. As I’m sure you are aware, Alphas live for a long time. Particularly ones infected such as those in Wayne Manor. Now and then it is refreshing to have something that brings more life into such a place. The children have taken an interest in you, and that is enough for Master Bruce.”
“I’m not a toy.”
“No. You’re fortunately not. What you are being offered is room and board, all you have to do is adhere to the rules. In exchange, you have to be a friend. Surely you know how to do that”?
If he had asked your friend, he’d have been met with a resounding no. After that night you had found yourself crippled in the hospital with no friends to speak of. Your friend had been peeved, rightfully so, that you had just packed their wasted butt into a car with a stranger. You had been miffed because hello?? They weren’t the ones chomped on by a deranged rabid Beta. They had made it home in one piece, even getting past the front door and into their bed. Both of you had been wasted, so why act like it was all your fault? You were getting tired of the world treating you like you were the root cause of life’s issues.
“I won’t be doing any of that”, you ask.
Now he just looked downright uncomfortable. You were almost embarrassed, but the question needed to be asked. Being hired to be a friend to Alphas that were at least a century old likely resulted in you waking up in a bed that’s not yours.
“Only if you consent to it. You won’t be reprimanded for not doing it, or if you do find yourself in that position.”, he clears his throat, “Healthcare and dental is provided. Due to your circumstances as an Omega, blockers will be provided along with your daily vitamins. Your health and safety is paramount to us.”
You had nothing more to say. Silently you sat there, running through any alternative options, and yet you kept hitting a wall. There was no denying it, this was the best option you could be given. All you had to do was smile and nod and make it a year. By then you should be able to get your feet back underneath you and be able to reassess your situation. Who knows? You might just like it.
“I’m going to say, you have a deal”, you smile at him.
“Then please, call me Alfred.”
He gets up then and holds a hand out to you to help you out of your chair. His smile back is warm, creases folding up from his eyes, a drastic change from the cold persona that you had started becoming accustomed to.
“Shall I call for the town car Ms. (L/N)?”
This was the start of a beautiful friendship, you decided. You nod your head as he pulls you up and gives you a brisk but friendly pat on the shoulder.
“Duke, you don’t have to do this”, you protest.
It was the thirteen-hundredth time you’ve said it. When Alfred closed the interview, he had taken the time to walk you to the front door, pointing out so many rooms that it all went over your head. You almost made it to the front. Then Duke saw you and took over from there.
“No, no, and for the last time, stop. I want to do it”, Duke grins up at you.
He was on the floor, taping up the last of your boxes. You hate to admit it, but you’re not sorry in the slightest as he does all the heavy lifting. The best part about it was getting to see all the muscles in his back when he turned around. Yum. Hey, you were a red-blooded Omega. There were just some things you couldn’t fight.
“Be careful not to break that”, you warn.
“Right, because what will the world do without these little tchotchkes?”, Duke laughs.
Somehow, not surprisingly, he dodges the stray crutch that you toss half-heartedly in his direction. At this point, he was used to you trying to weaponize your “mobility aide”.
It all started when he helped you get back to your apartment, in a wheelchair that he bought. Then he abandoned said wheelchair and carried you bridal style up several flights of stairs. Citing that the elevator was too dangerous because it hadn’t been inspected in the past decade. Even ignoring you when you told him that it would be far more likely for both of you to fall to your death in the stairwell. This was all two weeks ago, and he still refuses to use the elevator.
He was on the floor now, humming and throwing your shit in boxes. You weren’t sure how he did it. When you agreed to the move, you had been internally wincing and panicking. Thinking it was just going to be you, hopping pitifully around the room. Probably taking breaks and reminiscing over the stray artifacts of your life. You would’ve needed at least three days max to get packed. Duke cut it down to two hours.
“Sooooooooo”, you draw out, “Tell me about the others.”
“There’s not much to say, not a lot that I can either way. What do you want to know?”
Your eyes narrow as he turns weirdly evasive. He always got a little cagey when you brought up his adoptive family. Never quite answering the question.
“What are they like? Are they nice?”, you ask.
He pauses and stands, turning his back to you so he can put a box on the trolley. We’re going to take the elevator. You thought with a smug sort of glee at the realization. That means you’ll be in your wheelchair. See, you’re slowly reclaiming your independence. Sort of.
“Um. Cass is really nice, but you won’t see her often. Same with Steph. They both kind of do their own thing and no one lives at home besides Alfred, Bruce, and me. Though that might change.”
He pauses again. You stick your tongue out at his back only for him to whirl around to face you. Quickly you snap it back in and try to appear innocent as you stare up. Ew. Popcorn ceiling. You wonder for a second if you could have asbestos in your lungs from that.
“Dick, I mean Grayson, he oversees the training of the Alpha taskforce in Bludhaven. Jason avoids Bruce like the plague while doing the most to get his attention, and I can't really get into what he does for a living. You don't want to know. Tim lives and breathes at Wayne Enterprise’s various global sectors, some of the time, he’s the hardest to track. Damian has been somewhere in Pakistan. Where? I don’t know. I would avoid him and Jason if at all possible. Not that you'll likely see them."
You had to smother your cry of relief. This was going to be a lot easier than you thought. There were only going to be three people that you had to worry about. Maybe you were going to finally complete a New Year’s resolution now that you had time. The world was looking up for you.
“I think that’s it, are you ready?”
His question breaks off your train of thought. You can’t help but groan when he gets near you, arms outstretched, ready for a hug and humiliating you. To make matters worse, he says the worst thing possible.
“Up you go!”, Duke crows.
“No! To the chair! Put me down you overgrown bat!”, you say.
Thankfully he does, gently plopping you down in the cushy seat and stooping to ruffle your hair. You were hissing mad. Not that he cared. Just to goad you further, he reached over to the handles behind your back and rang the obnoxious little bike bell he attached to it.
“Run”, you warn him.
He laughs while sprinting with the dolly all the way to the elevator as you try like hell to mow him down. Both of you completely missed the way his phone kept blowing up with notifications, the small dings being mistaken for a bike bell.
#abo batfam x reader#vamp!batfam#vamp!batfam x reader#batfam x reader#still tagging yandere#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfam#i've got four essays due by the end of this week#going to my corner to cry now
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Princess treatment only - MultiMuse x Fem!Reader
Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Not many, some mentions of killing, but nothing graphic. Kind of fluffy
Type: HC’s
Request: N/A
Word Count: N/A
Prompt: Some HC’s as to how the muses would give the reader the princess treatment.
Notes: I don’t know where I was going with this, but this is mainly fluff, maybe sometime I’ll spice it up. I just had to get my writing juice brewing. Not proofread at all just go.
Jason Voorhees: Honestly, would treat you like a princess regardless. Will pick flowers for you when he’s outside. Always lets you borrow his flannels. Always walks in front of you to make sure there’s no danger, but looks back constantly to make sure there’s no danger behind you?? lmao. You won’t ever have to lift a finger when you’re with him. Literally at your beck and call. Will try his best not to kill in front of you, but sometimes it just ?? happens lol. Tries to be soft when touching you because you’re literally the most perfect thing that has ever crossed his path.
Michael Myers: Is your literal bodyguard. Will follow you anywhere and everywhere, you might as well call him your shadow. Lets you hug him and climb onto his lap whenever. Won’t hug you back yet, working on it. Nobody comes near you, no exceptions. Sorry. Stares at you most of the time. Can’t say it, but you’re literally flawless to him. Will use his body as a shield for you. Would kill anything for you. Eventually learns to put his palm against your cheek and that’s his second greatest accomplishment, the first being bagging you, literally and figuratively.
Tiffany Valentine: You won’t ever have to worry about a thing when you’re with her. Always gets her hands dirty for you. Lots of cheek and neck kisses. Praises your looks all the time. She will always brag about you whether it’s what you do, how you look, anything and everything. She would always make sure you have the latest clothes. She’d make sure you always had your staple make up pieces available. When it comes to killing, she’d get creative, that way you guys will never have literal blood on your hands, especially you, never you.
Billy Loomis: Lots of nicknames. Kinda only has a soft spot for you. Can never ever tell you no and stick to it. Won’t hesitate to kill anyone who makes fun of him for this. Drives you everywhere. Ties your shoes. Always makes time for you. Will help you pick out your outfits and tell you which one he likes and which one he doesn’t. Will wear the bracelets you make him. Anything in his closet is yours, help yourself. Always touching you, holding your hand, holding your waist, you’ve infatuated him enough to have him carelessly cover you in soft kisses, laying his head on your shoulder. Kinda creative with dates tbh.
Stu Macher: You will forever be his princess. Will carry you across puddles. Lots of cheek and forehead kisses. Would learn how to paint your nails for you during class. Always makes sure you have a good grade on your exam, whether he has to swap out the papers after class or make sure you get the right answers, you can absolutely count on him. You don’t have to use your brain around him, no worries. Thinks you look adorable in his sweaters, especially oversized. Loves when you sit on his lap. Prioritizes you over anything and everything. Even if you don’t like horror movies, Stu would absolutely find something else for you to watch.
Patrick Bateman: Honestly, when he falls in love with you, it’s princess treatment only. Will give you a skin care routine and help you follow through with it. Kind of makes you feel dumb, but not like a stupid dumb, more like a ‘oh dear sweet baby you are a little dumb but pretty, but dumb, let me help you’ Same thing if you fall asleep with your makeup on, Patricks on the way with the micellar makeup remover. Will speak up for you if you don’t like a service, he won’t be mean about it unless he has to. Always makes sure you’re hydrated (also part of your skin care routine). You will be a housewife/girlfriend. Feel free to splurge, you are his trophy princess after all. Will take you anywhere you want. Will make things up for you if he has to be at work late.
Leatherface: I don’t ever see a scenario where Bubba does not treat his s/o like a princess. It’s like part of the deal. Either way, expect wild flowers all the time. It’s his favorite thing to do for you. He even makes you a vase and makes sure your flowers are always fresh. Will literally die and kill for you without any hesitation. At his knees for you. Bubba will crawl to you across pins and needles if you asked him to. He’s always making sure you’re comfortable and safe, never hungry or in your mind for too long. Melts at your touch. Would learn how to dance just to dance to your favorite songs. Always gets awestruck with you.
Harley Quinn: Will absolutely take you anywhere you want, no matter how random it is. Always dazed when looking at you. Keeps pictures of you all dressed up in her bag or car or wherever she goes. Selina gave her a heart shaped locket once and yeah, you guessed it, the cutest picture of you is in there. Doesn’t hesitate to shoot any man for you. Leaves your face covered in red kisses. She would do anything to make you laugh. Anything you want, it’s yours! Just point at it.
Poison Ivy: Pamela will always spoil you, regardless of how you act. You’ve heard of people growing gardens for their s/o, she would grow forests for you. She’s the most gentle with you, gentle caresses and soft kisses. Paints your nails, brushes your hair while adding flowers into the locks. Always admires dressing you up and putting make up on you. Almost never wants you to leave. Slow dances with you. She’d do anything to keep you out of danger. You think Michael is a good bodyguard? Pamela is the bodyguard.
Bruce Wayne: hhnnnngh. Ok. No but you are the Princess Wayne. Spoiling you rotten goes without saying. Anything your little heart desires is yours. Helps you get dressed. His favorite is helping you with your stockings. Gentle kisses everywhere. Brushes your hair. Lifting you up constantly when there’s a crack in the pavement. Always the driver. Your safety is always first, always. No because whatever you want means whatever you want, which is why there are hello kitty plushies scattered across the Wayne manor. You’ve somehow managed to get your own cozy theater in there too. Princess treatment also means Bruce having to lay back just a teeny bit on Batman just to guard you too while you sleep.
Jason Todd: nmmnnmf YES. I don’t see him treating his s/o any other way. Lots of pet names. Loooves to help you get dressed. Sits you on the counter as he cooks. Never lets you out of his sight. Anything you want it’s yours. Always buying you cute socks and letting you wear his clothes. Forehead kisses. Oh man it’s so disgusting how much Jason loves his princess. Always taking pictures of you, no matter the angle. Would 1000000% tie bows into your hair if you asked.
Billy Hargrove: Honestly if he’s in love with you, princess treatment is granted. Always giving you his jackets, especially when you wear skirts or dresses out. Lifting you over mud and puddles. Subtle kisses on the head while you’re out. Body guard mode activated. He kinda becomes your shadow, appearing out of nowhere and greeting you with a kiss on the forehead. Ties your shoes without asking. Wiping any tears or smeared makeup off your face. Winks at you all the timeee.
Steve Harrington: Kind of similar to Stu, he always makes sure you pass your class. Poor princess doesn’t use her brain in school, too busy trying to stay awake. Always gives you his jacket, even if you don’t want to wear it, he’ll wrap it around you. Finds any excuse to carry you or pick you up. So affectionate. Kisses on the cheek, lips, forehead. Sometimes he will miss and kiss your eye but ugh it’s so fucking cute. Only has eyes for you. Tying your shoes, putting your socks on, literally just dressing you in general is a must. Literally will take you wherever you want, whenever. Drops everything when you call. Such a sucker with the nicknames for you.
Steve Rogers: Ugh another one. Think of him as a body guard who you get to kiss and sit on his lap. Always drops everything to make sure you’re okay. Cannot take his eyes off of you. So smooth with the reassurance. Kisses on the forehead constantly. Always tucks you in. Would help you bathe if you asked. Pulls you onto his lap every time you both sit down. Whatever you want, you’ll get. If he can’t do it, he’ll find a way. Cups your face in his hands when you cry, kisses your tears away. Ugh he’s your literal teddy bear, if you don’t like to be smothered? Pick another muse.
Bucky Barnes: Similar to Steve, he’s your shadow, but he’s a little more … upfront with it. He’s constantly wrapping an arm around you, eyeing anyone who’s eyeing you. He’s so gentle if you’re sensitive. Kissing your cheek is his favorite. Always lingering his fingertips around your crevices. Makes sure you’re never hungry. Always up before you are. Lets you sleep in. If you fight, he will never raise his voice at you. Ready to carry you if you’re too tired to keep walking around. Slow dances with you just because. He’s always worried for you, making sure you’re okay, you’re not sick or hungry. Pet names with him are a must.
Loki Laufeyson: Okkkk and in what situation did you ever think loki was not going to give you the princess treatment??? You are literal Princess Laufeyson. Though he, and Sebastian maybe, are the only ones who can probably, maybe, say no to you, if you pout enough maybe he’ll come to a compromise with you. He never wants to upset you though. Would literally wipe out a small world for you. Or a few. Ok even betray anyone for you. Always cleaning your smeared makeup, fixing your hair, wiping you because you spilled your drink. He’s so devoted to you, im going to throw up. He devours you with his eyes from a distance, you’re never leaving his sight.
Cloud Strife: Ugh ok. Literal bodyguard, as he’s hired to be at times. At your beck and call, though he’d never admit it. Such a sucker and can never say no to you. Though it may take time, he can start calling you ‘baby’ ‘sweet girl’ ‘love’ he’s so infatuated with you and doesn’t know how to handle it. Your safety is his priority. Always listens to you ramble on and on. Brings you flowers for no reason other than he was thinking of you. He’s such a sucker for you. Follows you everywhere.
Sebastian Michaelis: He’s probably the most tame out of everyone but that doesn’t mean he’s not a sucker. There are rules he’s willing to bend for you, literally willing to kill anyone that has the slightest interest in hurting you. Always makes sure you’re fed and if you want a sweet treat, he’s on it. Listens to you talk, even if it’s silly. Dances with you almost every night. He’s so graceful with it. Dressing you and feeding you is his favorite but he might throw in a few teases “poor sweet baby, you haven’t woken up yet to tell your left foot from your right” as you rub your eyes with the wrong shoes on. Of course he’s willing to help, even if he has the idea that you do this on purpose, he's more than happy to oblige.
Spencer Reid: Though his job wouldn’t encourage it, he still drops almost everything to answer you. Always finds a way to share time with his job and his attention to you. Reads to you all the time, whether in person or over the phone. He’s always making comparisons of you being the princess in most fictional stories that you both come across. He’s so gentle with you. Caresses your face all the time. You lay your head on his lap or sit on his lap as he reads away. Always making sure to keep up with your well-being before his own. Would 10000% pick up a habit of writing you little notes or picking flowers for you or taking Polaroids or something to remind you of your everlasting presence in his mind.
#jason voorhees x reader#micheal myers x reader#billy loomis x reader#loki laufeyson x reader#stu macher x reader#harley quinn x reader#cloud strife x reader#tiffany valentine x reader#bucky barnes x reader#steve harrington x reader#steve rogers x reader#billy hargrove x reader#bruce wayne x reader#jason todd x reader#poison ivy x reader#patrick bateman x reader#leatherface x reader#sebastian michaelis x reader#spencer reid x reader#loki x reader
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Worried Thoughts
Mihawk x gn!reader
Summary: he thinks you’re afraid of him, but really you feel more comfortable here than anywhere else. If only you could figure out how to explain that.
Content: fluffy cozy piece. Just a hint of romance. Reader is autistic.
Warnings: reader is somewhat insecure about their autistic traits.
A/N: Couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so I’m sharing with all of you. It’s been a long time since I wrote any fanfic so I might do more, I might not, we’ll see. Story is based on live action Mihawk with some inspiration from the little bit I know about the anime. Enjoy!
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He’s frustrated with you.
He doesn’t let it show. Mihawk is too controlled for that, too stoic. Besides, you’ve come to learn the look of casual disdain he wears is for everyone, not just you.
But he’s still frustrated with you.
You can see it in the little things. The slight furrow of his brow. The way he watches you over his book. The long, drawn out sips of wine.
It’s the things you’ve learned to look for after a lifetime of having to watch and analyze and try so hard to fit in. A lifetime of trying to be normal.
Around Mihawk though? You don’t feel that need so much.
It’s why you let your eyes drift away from his intense, piercing gaze. It’s why, though you’re still afraid to let yourself stim too much or let too much excitement shine through when a special interest topic comes up, you do let yourself chew on your lip. And sometimes, when you catch yourself rocking because the silence is just a little too much, you don’t make yourself stop.
But still, he doesn’t quite understand it. He thinks you’re afraid of him.
You should be. Honestly you’re not sure why you aren’t. He’s the worlds greatest swordsman. He’s probably the most powerful person in all the seas. He wears that power like a cloak, holds himself in a way that warns people to step away. Step back.
You saw it in the village last week, when he had you sail with him to a nearby island so you could help pick up supplies. Folk recognized him and feared him.
To be honest, you thought he would leave you behind there. After all, he has no reason to keep sheltering you. It’s been a month since you washed up on the beach of his own gloomy island, a month since you barely evaded the monsters that live there and found your way to his door.
He let you stay, and you figured it was because of how pathetic you looked at the moment. A shipwrecked survivor on the brink of death, looking more like a drowned rat than a human.
It’s not that you’re actually pathetic. You’re not weak. Or at least not too much so. Honestly, you can hold your own against most folk back home, and you know how to sail a small ship just fine. Or at least, you thought you did.
That storm wounded your pride and has you questioning your seafaring skills.
The point is, you can take care of yourself overall. Though, you quickly learned after you first set sail a few years back that being the best in your village means nothing when so many folk out there are as powerful as gods. Competent or not, you’re nothing compared to the great warlord.
So why did he let you stay? Why was it, when you were getting ready to turn and walk away after setting foot on the village island, he handed you a small crate of supplies and said to not fall behind? Why was it he let you get back on his ship and sail all the way back here with him? 
You haven’t asked him yet, because you’re a little afraid that maybe he’ll change his mind. You’ve come to like your life on this isolated island.
But you’re getting away from yourself again. Letting your thoughts drift. It’s been a week since that village visit and now you still sit within Mihawk’s vast and rather chilly castle, hyperaware of his piercing gaze digging into your head.
“You don’t need to be so afraid of me.”
His voice makes you jump, and you realize that you’ve been rocking where you sit as you stare at the book in your lap.
“I’m not,” you manage. “I…”
Your eyes latch onto the book. You’ve been reading it for a couple of days, but you’re having trouble focusing today. Whenever you look at the words, it makes you think about how yesterday you launched into a long analysis of the adventure genre and how it really is such a shame that people don’t appreciate this book as much, since even though it was one of the first of its type there’s been so many books that have built on it since that now it seems almost predictable.
Mihawk didn’t seem bothered at the time, but now you look back at it and you’re sure he must’ve been annoyed, or at the very least bored. You’re still kicking yourself for not taking the time to check his expression when you went on that endless monologue.
“You act afraid.”
You take a quick peek out the corner of your eye, watching as he casually sips from his wine glass. Firelight flickers across his face, lighting up those vivid eyes and casting a golden hue across his dark hair. He’s not looking at you anymore, but you know that he’s still aware of everything you do.
When you find your attention catching on his chiseled chest, you quickly force your gaze away.
“You are a warlord,” you say, trying to be teasing.
“An astute observation.”
“I’m not afraid of you though.” You close your book and with it close your eyes, trying to find the right words. Trying to get them all untangled. “I… I just don’t like eye contact. With anyone.”
“I see. That is reasonable.”
It’s not the response you expected. You’re used to people judging you when they learn how are you are. You’re used to people underestimating you and assuming the worst.
You glance back up at Mihawk, then quickly away to the fireplace instead. “I’m not very good with people,” you continue, “It’s not that I don’t like them, but I don’t always understand the rules of society and stuff. And I don’t always do things the way other folk do.”
When you peek back, he’s lifted a single eyebrow. You blush. Surely he’s already noticed that. Surely you’re being silly as you explain the obvious.
“The rules of society do tend to be rather boring.”
The way he says it, so straightforward as if it makes all the sense in the world… you feel relieved giggle bubble out of you.
“I suppose you really aren’t afraid of me then,” he says, just the slightest twitch forming a smile at the corners of his lips. He tilts his head slightly, then adds. “I was thinking about your theory yesterday. It was… Intriguing.”
Something flutters in your chest. A feeling that you never really thought you’d have for somebody so dangerous. Joy. Excitement. Perhaps even some infatuation, if you’re being honest with yourself.
His castle might be vast and chilly, but it’s also comfortable. And you’ve come to truly enjoy these times where you sit together in front of the fireplace, simply existing near each other. You’ve come to enjoy just being around him. 
“Would… would you like to talk about it more?” You can’t help the hope that creeps into your tone.
“That would be pleasant.”
And so, you finally let that wall down just a little further. You let yourself start talking without holding back, let yourself feel comfortable.
When he rises from his chair and walks to stand closer to your own, his hand just barely brushing your shoulder, you let yourself feel a little bit at home.
#Mihawk#mihawk x reader#dracule mihawk#one piece mihawk#Help im so in love with this character#autistic!reader#proofreading I don’t know you
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tadc w a hacker!reader
so like, reader hacked into the circus for shits and giggles, and unlike the cast reader doesn't get amnesia or is trapped or anything and they can leave and join whenever
TADC x hacker!reader !
each part for the characters might be a little shorter !! hope thats okay, my brain is a little raisin in regards to this idea </3
no gangle since i ran out of ideas
CAINE:
wha- how??
honestly i almost think he would see you as a threat at first, but im not sure since im on the fence about whether or not caine is genuinely malicious or not (going purely off the pilot, i have yet to look into anything outside of the pilot)
"honey! you're home!" in this loud voice of his (this can be read as romantic or platonic, obvious joke on the "honey im home!" gag(?) in media)
keeps a close eye on you since he cant bring himself to fully trust you, afterall, youre a hacker and he is an AI, of course he would be wary
POMNI:
uses you to keep track of what's going on in the real world, whether it be to the benefit or detriment of her mental health
riding the whole "pomni is trying to get out" thing, she might team up with you to try to figure out what exactly is going on and how to put a stop to it
not much else to be said, really, you try to crack the mysteries of this digital world together
JAX:
not too interested in what's going on in the real world
probably asks you how far you can go to your hacking, obviously with the intention of mischief
this might actually get you into some trouble with caine, though, depending on what exactly you attempt to do and if it will have lasting negative impacts on the worlds coding and shit
so best not to indulge jax lest you receive real consequences
RAGATHA:
oh! cool
unlike jax and pomni, doesnt try to use you to her benefit since that kind of goes against her whole "be kind" thing
really as long as you're not trying to hurt anyone she would be chill with you imo
occasionally asks about things about the real world and what's currently going on
KINGER:
more cautious around you than he would be if you were in the same position as everyone else, i mean he doesnt know what all you can do and he doesnt really want to find out
what else is there to say?
likely forgets you're there because you're not. trapped like everyone else
bonus if you just. pop into the digital world right next to him and give him a heart attack
do not jumpscare the chess piece please
ZOOBLE:
vague interest, basic questions, then back to their usual indifference
i mean unless you can bust them all out, why would they bug you? they're already come to terms with everything that's going on so really what point is there?
"can you make jax shut the <> up?"
"..no.."
#tadc x reader#the amazing digital circus x reader#digital circus x reader#caine x reader#caine x you#caine imagine#jax x you#jax x reader#jax imagine#pomni imagine#pomni x you#pomni x reader#ragatha imagine#ragatha x you#ragatha x reader#kinger imagine#kinger x you#kinger x reader#zooble x you#zooble x reader
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So with Oppenheimer coming out tomorrow, I feel a certain level of responsibility to share some important resources for people to understand more about the context of the Manhattan Project. Because for my family, it’s not just a piece of history but an ongoing struggle that’s colonized and irradiated generations of New Mexicans’ lives and altered our identity forever. Not only has the legacy of the Manhattan Project continued to harm and displace Indigenous and Hispanic people but it’s only getting bigger: Biden recently tasked the Los Alamos National Lab facility to create 30 more plutonium pits (the core of a nuclear warhead) by 2026. So this is a list of articles, podcasts and books to check out to hear the real stories of the local people living with this unique legacy that’s often overlooked.
This is simply the latest mainstream interest in the Oppenheimer story and it always ALWAYS silences the trauma of the brown people the US government took advantage of to make their death star. I might see the movie, I honestly might not. I’m not trying to judge anyone for seeing what I’m sure will be an entertaining piece of art. I just want y’all to leave the theater knowing that this story goes beyond what’s on the screen and touches real people’s lives: people whose whole families died of multiple cancers from radiation from the Trinity test, people who’s ancestral lands were poisoned, people who never came back from their job because of deadly work conditions. This is our story too.
The first and best place to learn more about this history and how to support those still resisting is to follow Tewa Women United. They’ve assembled an incredible list of resources from the people who’ve been fighting this fight the longest.
https://tewawomenunited.org/2023/07/oppenheimer-and-the-other-side-of-the-story
The writer Alicia Inez Guzman is currently writing a series about the nuclear industrial complex in New Mexico, its history and cultural impacts being felt today.
https://searchlightnm.org/my-nuclear-family/
https://searchlightnm.org/the-abcs-of-a-nuclear-education/
https://searchlightnm.org/plutonium-by-degrees/
Danielle Prokop at Source NM is an excellent reporter (and friend) who has been covering activists fighting for Downwinder status from the federal government. They’re hoping that the success of Oppenheimer will bring new attention to their cause.
https://sourcenm.com/2023/07/19/anger-hope-for-nm-downwinders/
https://sourcenm.com/2022/01/27/new-mexico-downwinders-demand-recognition-justice/
One often ignored side of the Manhattan Project story that’s personal for me is that the government illegally seized the land that the lab facilities eventually were built on. Before 1942, it was homesteading land for ranchers for more than 30 families (my grandpa’s side of the family was one). But when the location was decided, the government evicted the residents, bought their land for peanuts and used their cattle for target practice. Descendants of the homesteaders later sued and eventually did get compensated for their treatment (though many say it was far below what they were owed)
https://www.hcn.org/issues/175/5654
Myrriah Gomez is an incredible scholar in this field, working as a historian, cultural anthropologist and activist using a framework of “nuclear colonialism” to foreground the Manhattan Project. Her book Nuclear Nuevo Mexico is an amazing collection of oral stories and archival record that positions New Mexico’s era of nuclear colonialism in the context of its Spanish and American eras of colonialism. A must read for anyone who’s made it this far.
https://uapress.arizona.edu/book/nuclear-nuevo-mexico
There isn’t a ton of podcasts about this (yet 👀) but recently the Washington Post’s podcast Field Trip did an episode about White Sands National Monument. The story is a beautifully written and sound designed piece that spotlights the Downwinder activists and also a discovery of Indigenous living in the Trinity test area going back thousands of years. I was blown away by it.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/podcasts/field-trip/white-sands-national-park/
#oppenheimer#oppenheimer movie#barbenheimer#manhattan project#new mexico#los alamos#I never do posts like this#but I felt compelled#theres just so much like nuclear worship going on right now
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HUSH, HUSH.
༄ pairing » jeno, haechan, jaemin x fem!reader
༄ genre » smut
༄ word count » 19.5k
༄ smut warnings » foursome, praise kink, some degradation, mild dubcon (bc it’s me obviously), a good ol’ “just the tip” moment, some marking, spit play, cum eating, finger sucking, handjob, slightly sadistic dom!Jaemin and dom!Haechan, sweeter and softer dom!Jeno, slight dumbification, fingering, oral (receiving & giving), overstimulation, and more 💖
༄ notes » i hope you enjoy! please leave feedback if you liked it :)
“Mark, please tell me you’re joking.” You’re positive your frown can be heard in your voice as you whine into your phone.
“I really wish I was,” Mark groans, the now muffled words most likely meaning that Mark’s just clapped his hand over his face. “Coach says we’re gonna be stuck here until the mechanic from the next town over can get here to fix the bus.”
“Why would you guys go to an away game in a town so small it doesn’t even have emergency services?” You ask in disbelief.
Mark sighs. “I don’t know, but you know how this goes; Coach says ‘jump’ and the whole ice hockey team says ‘how high?’”
Huffing, you glower at your phone like he can see you. “Wimps, all of you.”
“Oh, yeah? Tell that to Chaewon.” He suggests, and you’re suddenly glad he can’t see your face fall.
“Oh, boy…how’s she holding up?” You ask hesitantly, and your question is answered when the tell-tale sound of a notorious Chaewon Tirade filters in from the background. You wince, feeling for the poor recipient getting chewed out by her, and realize that the sound of her ranting is getting louder.
“…I mean, honestly, Coach, what did you expect when you take a rickety old bus, drive it for miles without getting a check up before we left in the first place, like I suggested to you—hello?” Chaewon’s rampage comes to a screeching halt when she realizes it’s you on the other end of the phone. “I’m guessing you heard that…” Her pout is audible through the phone, your irate best friend now sounding more like an upset child.
“I sure did,” You snicker. “Cannot believe you regularly yell at Coach Park.”
“I think I’m the only person he lets yell at him.” She whispers back, and you laugh. “I made him book us hotel rooms so we can stay here overnight until the mechanic comes tomorrow and we can get the hell out of here, so we’ll be seeing a lot of each other and maybe he’ll finally get sick of me.”
“Just another day as the ice hockey team manager.” You joke, and Chaewon sighs deeply. “Is it still worth the credit?”
“It sure is! No homework, barely any actual work, and I get to yell at the teacher? So worth it.” She answers incredulously. She has a point, you realize, nodding in understanding to your audience of approximately no one. “Next year, you can be my assistant manager and get course credit, too!”
“We’ll see,” You reply with a smile that fades with your next words. “I’m bummed you guys can’t come to our sleepover. It’s tradition!” You sigh, pacing around your living room double-checking to see if there’s anything left to tidy up that you might have missed. You fluff a couch pillow and prop it up, patting it for good measure before continuing, “I mean, first Renjun has an art project due Monday, then you and Mark were gonna get here later because of the away game, but now you’re not coming at all,” You frown, “So now it’s just me, Haechan, Jaemin, and Jeno.”
“Well, that’s still fun! Chaotic, really, because Mark, Renjun and I regularly do damage control and run interference between you four, but definitely fun.” Chaewon’s attempts to console you end up helping more than her actual words, but you’re still downcast, picking invisible pieces of lint off of the other pillow on the opposite end of the couch.
“Are any of them there yet?” She asks, and you sigh.
“Nope,” You mutter. “Jaemin and Jeno have to finish some project they’re doing at the library, and who even knows where Haechan–” Your doorbell rings, and you flinch at the unexpected sound. “Hold on one second,” You murmur into the phone, making your way to the front door as Chaewon hums in acknowledgement. You look through the peephole and swing your door open. “It’s just you.” You sigh in relief as Haechan stands before you, duffel bag in hand.
“I think I deserve a little more excitement than saying it’s ‘just’ me.” Haechan narrows his eyes at you, a playful glint to them, and breezes past you, kicking off his shoes in your hallway and dropping his duffel bag by the couch. Rolling your eyes, you shut and lock your front door, walking back to where Haechan sits on the couch, scrolling through his phone.
“Oh, my God!” You gasp in exaggerated excitement, bouncing up and down. “It’s Haechan,” You sigh dreamily into the phone, shooting Haechan a brow-raised look of “is that what you wanted?” and barely bite back a laugh at the retching noise Chaewon makes. Haechan lunges at you with one hand outstretched, ready to flick you on the forehead, and you yelp in alarm, darting around your couch so it’s separating the two of you.
“I’m gonna let you go before things get weird—or, should I say, weirder—and I have to bear witness to it.” She says with a shudder, but, if you’re being honest, you’re barely focusing on her words, your mind more preoccupied with dodging Haechan’s attempts to reach you. “Have fun tonight! Mark and I will see you tomorrow, hopefully.”
“Bye!” You say distractedly, thumb blindly tapping at the red call-ending button as you adjust your position for the third time, running around one side of the couch as Haechan chases you. “Haechan, it was a joke!”
“Too bad,” He replies easily, staring you down with a gaze so intent and determined it brings heat to your face. “This is what you get for being so bratty.”
“Aw, come on! That was barely bratty.” You defend yourself, huffing and crossing your arms. “You’ve seen me do worse.”
“So? That was then. This is now.”
“‘This is now,’” You mock his words in a high-pitched, nasal voice before you can stop yourself and swallow thickly when Haechan raises his brow in a challenge.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Haechan, it slipped out—” You start, but he’s not listening at all, his eyes darting around the living room and studying the layout as he undoubtedly brainstorms some sort of attack plan. He stops, finally, and looks directly at you with a sly smile that definitely doesn’t bode well for you before he darts forward. You shriek and make a run for it just as he’s about to vault over the couch to reach you, your legs autopiloting you into the kitchen.
Haechan’s hot on your heels, fingers still outstretched towards you. His fingertips graze the back of your shirt and you shriek, now startled enough for Haechan to surge forward and snag the fabric, curling his hand into a fist and yanking you back towards him. Your back collides with his chest none too gently, and you crane your head to look behind you at him with worry sitting in your throat like a lump.
“Hi,” You try, shooting him a sheepish smile over your shoulder.
“Shut up,” He scoffs, whirling you around and flicking you directly on the forehead before you can defend yourself. “That’s for the sarcasm earlier.” He says with a huff as you hiss in pain. “And that–”
“Ouch, damn it–”
“–is for mocking me just now.” He smiles tauntingly at you, and you glower at him, rubbing your sore forehead, now doubly so because Haechan had the audacity to flick you twice in the exact same spot and you don’t think he held back very much, if at all.
“You know what? Sleepover canceled for you.”
“What?!” He squawks indignantly, and you nod resolutely, pointing dramatically towards your front door.
“Yep, you’re uninvited! Get out of my apartment.” Jerking your chin towards the door, you wait not-so-patiently as Haechan complains loudly.
“Come on,” He groans, and you turn your nose up and away from him with a dramatic sniffle.
“That’s what you get for the cruel and unusual punishment you inflicted on me just now,” You decide, rubbing your forehead gingerly with a frown.
“It was two flicks to the forehead!”
“It hurt, you ass!”
“God, okay, what…um…” He trails off, lost in thought before a slow, flirtatious grin tugs at the corners of his mouth.
“Oh, boy.” You sigh loudly, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose to calm yourself. When you reopen them, you flinch at Haechan’s sudden proximity to you, and he chuckles as you glare at him.
“What if I offer to kiss it better?” He lilts, leaning closer to you with a wiggle of his brows.
“No.” Your flat reply doesn’t seem to discourage him, Haechan only stepping closer to you with a widening grin.
“Aw, come on,” He murmurs, his lips gradually making their way to your ear, “I bet you’d like it.”
“This is exactly why I need Mark around. Or Chaewon, or Renjun, or—really, anyone who’s not you.”
“Ouch.”
“Sorry,” You hum remorselessly. “But I’m right; this is why we shouldn’t be alone together—you just torment me.”
“You think we shouldn’t be alone together because I’m too attractive for your own good.” Haechan says smugly, and you snort derisively.
“I think we shouldn’t be alone together because you’re too sleazy for my own good, Haechan.” You counter smoothly, and you half-predicted Haechan’s offended gasp that rings out, but it still startles you all the same.
“I’m sleazy.” Haechan’s tone is flat and entirely disbelieving, staring you down. To his credit, the reality of the situation really is closer to his interpretation.
There’s always been some sort of tension between you and Haechan—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t swoon a bit when he pulled you against his chest earlier and when he cornered you in the kitchen—that manifests from time to time as lingering glances and touches, flirtatious remarks that land a bit too seriously, and an underlying desire neither of you can seem to shake.
“Yep. Sleazy.” You say, lying through your teeth as you drag out the syllables of the insult. “It’s a miracle you pull at all.”
“My reputation precedes me,” He answers with a smug edge to his defensiveness. “When you’re as good as I am, people line up around the block for a chance with you.”
“Maybe they just wanna witness the trainwreck that you are in person,” You snicker mischievously. “Y’know—up close and personal.”
“I get the feeling you wanna experience it for yourself.” Haechan’s smug grin damn near knocks you off of your feet from how dazzling it is, and you can’t help but acknowledge internally that he kind of has a point; you do kinda want to see for yourself, but you’re not exactly keen on admitting that right now.
“Shut up, you’re so obnoxious.” You huff, pushing his chest to move him back and away from you. He barely moves, his smile widening as he takes a step forward instead.
“Wrong direction,” You gripe.
“No, I’m pretty sure this is where I want to be,” He breathes out, seemingly distracted as his gaze slowly drops to your lips. An alarmed squeak escapes you and he chuckles. “Matter of fact, I think you want me here, too.”
“What?!” You exclaim indignantly, and he brings one hand to your mouth and presses a finger to your lips to silence you.
“Anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” He rolls his eyes and presses forward until he’s got you pressed up against the cool metal of your fridge, dark brown eyes boring into your own.
“No,” You counter, narrowing your eyes at him. “But I’m sure you get that a lot.” You jerk your head forward in an attempt to snap at his finger, and Haechan pauses, letting out a hollow chuckle as he pokes his tongue to the inside of his cheek and stares you down and you hate to admit it, but that was one of the most attractive things he’s ever done.
“You know what?” Haechan doesn’t give you a chance to answer before his free hand is wrapping around the base of your throat and squeezing—not too tight as to alarm you or truly choke you, but tight enough to make his hand’s presence impossible to ignore. The gasp that slips from your lips brings a wicked little smile to his face and he leans in closer so his lips are pressed against the back of the finger he’s holding against your mouth, the slender digit the only thing separating your lips. “You’re gonna regret that.” His warm breath fans over your lips and you swallow thickly, widened eyes darting between his temptingly parted lips and his intent stare.
You watch in a frozen fascination as Haechan slowly removes his finger from between you two, his lips now but a breath away, and watches you in turn. His hand trails from your face down your front, just lightly skimming over your stomach to draw out a sudden exhale from you, and to the hem of the large oversized shirt you’ve been wearing around the apartment. He watches your face with a challenge twinkling in his eyes as he slips his hand under your shirt, almost daring you to stop him. When his hand slides up to cup your breast through your thin, lacy bra, you just barely manage to bite back a whine, and he traces small circles around your nipple, soon pinching it lightly between two fingers and tugging, a triumphant grin curling his lips when you hiss, the sound a combination of surprise and desire.
“You look so pretty with my hand wrapped around your throat,” Haechan coos fondly, voice dripping with condescension, and you whine softly in despair, wanting him to just do something. “So fuckin’ pretty,” He whispers, almost to himself as he studies your reaction while he toys with your stiffened peak.
His lips are getting closer by the second, his head tilting slightly to the side, but when you lean in to meet him, his hand on your throat pushes you back against the fridge, moving you away from his gradually approaching lips. He leans in close enough that you could count every one of his lashes, and wets his bottom lip, the tip of his tongue ever-so-slightly grazing your own lip, and you whimper in anticipation, trying to lean forward again. Haechan scoffs under his breath and remains unyielding, your head still pinned against the fridge as he brings himself right up against you—surely any closer and you’d be kissing—and just…stops.
“Maybe I shouldn’t kiss you right now,” He murmurs, and you’re surprised to realize that you genuinely don’t want him to stop.
“Why?” You ask breathlessly, and he looks upwards as if in thought, his hand under your shirt starting to caress your breast, the male seemingly oblivious to the way your back arches, pushing your chest into his hand for more.
“Isn’t this kind of…y’know…sleazy of me?” He throws the word back in your face with such a smug tone, so unbearably cocky that your knees almost buckle. “I mean, I’ve got you pinned up against the fridge…my hand’s up your shirt and playing with your tits…and I’m about to kiss you. Sounds pretty sleazy to me,” He shrugs, actions both supporting and contradicting his words as he swirls his finger around your nipple again, flicking the bud.
“Haechan, please–”
“Can I tell you something, though?” He brings his lips to your ear and you freeze in place, barely managing a stiff nod. His soft chuckle sends warmth fanning over your skin and you shudder before he continues on, “I think you like it.”
“Wh—um,” You stammer, and he pulls back to grin at you, eyes scanning your face. “Well, I mean—”
“Yeah, I think you do,” He marvels softly, fingers tightening around your neck. “Practically choked yourself on my hand trying to kiss me a moment ago,” Haechan points out and your face burns as you’re rendered speechless. “Bet if I put my hand between your legs–” He starts, and you whine loudly in embarrassment, Haechan continuing on louder, “you’d be nice and wet for me,” He finishes with a proud little smile, murmuring, “I thought so,” when you don’t respond, your gaze averted in shame.
“Haechan–” You start, and he shushes you, tongue peeking out to lick at your upper lip.
“You like this? Hm? Like how it feels when your sleazy friend Haechan feels you up with one hand and chokes you with the other?”
“Yes,” You whimper, and he coos affectionately at your worked-up state.
“What if sleazy Haechannie slips his hand down here, hm?” He brings his hand out from under your shirt and toys with the waistband of your shorts. Thankfully, before you have to ask, he pushes into your pants, fingers deftly navigating down to your heated core and cupping it through your damp underwear, digging the heel of his palm into your clit and grinning as you writhe under his touch. “I think you like that, too.” The smugness in his voice is almost palpable but you don’t even have your wits about you enough to feel shame or indignance, lust clouding your mind and leaving you dizzy and desiring.
“Stop teasing,” You exhale, and he raises an eyebrow, leaning in so your lips are almost touching. At the same time, he tightens his grip around your neck slightly and pushes you against the fridge harder so you can’t move towards him, and you whine in desperation. “Please?” You try, and he flicks his gaze up to you, intrigue twinkling in his eyes.
“Please…what?” He asks tauntingly, head cocked to the side curiously.
“Do something, fuck, please–” You don’t even get to finish your plea before he’s surging forward with a growl and connecting your lips. A drawn out whine escapes you as you all but melt into him, lips parting easily as his tongue nudges between them and sneaks into your mouth for a taste of you.
“Such a little tease,” Haechan grunts against your lips, releasing your core and massaging your clit with two nimble fingers. “Always knew you wanted this.”
You can’t even form words in response, your head lolling back in ecstasy as you let out a mix between a moan and a gasp, but Haechan doesn’t seem to mind, lips attaching to your neck as he kisses, sucks, and bites marks into your neck. You can only manage to moan, “No marking,” as he sucks, and he pulls back, mouth detaching from your skin with a wet noise, and stares at you with an unimpressed expression.
“You’re already marked,” He points out, tracing what must be the beginnings of a love bite forming on your neck with a proud grin. “I might as well get to finish.”
“…Fine,” You give in, and he beams, leaning forward and kissing you again, lips slotting between yours easily as he nips at your lip. Groaning when you rock into his hand desperately, Haechan trails wet kisses down your neck and sucks hard at the base of your throat, a mark surely blooming from his efforts.
“Want them to wonder who did this to you,” Haechan grunts, and you can only keen weakly in response, fingernails scratching at his shirt in a feeble attempt to pull him closer to you. “Make them wish they’d gotten to you first.” His words sink in a moment later, a confused hum bubbling up and out from inside of you at the notion that Jeno and Jaemin have not-so-platonic feelings for you. Haechan doesn’t give you much time to process what he’s said, the male growing greedier for your reactions and pushing your underwear to the side, guiding two fingers into your clenching entrance. “Whole time, you and I know who did this to you; don’t we, pretty?”
“Y-Yeah,” You moan weakly, and Haechan chuckles, the sound’s darkened edge sending a chill of excitement down your spine.
“Who did this to you?” Haechan nips at the mark on the base of your neck, and you cry out with a jolt.
“You did,” You answer breathlessly, your mind going fuzzy as Haechan’s fingers stroke along your inner walls, finding your most sensitive spot with ease and proceeding to send his fingers thrusting directly into it.
“Mm-mm,” He hums, dissatisfied. “I wanna hear you say my name.”
“Haechan–” You give in immediately, your desperation building as his fingers bring you closer and closer to your climax.
“Again.”
“Haechan–” You can barely get the last syllable out before Haechan seals his mouth over yours with a barely restrained groan, his fingers diligently pumping in and out of you as he plays with your tongue. “Gonna cum,” You pant, voice higher-pitched and embarrassingly whiny, and he hums in acknowledgement.
“I should probably stop,” He pulls back to say, feigning a pout, and you glare at him in disbelief.
“Don’t you dare.”
“But look at us,” Haechan presses, and you whimper as your hips rock down onto his fingers. “Isn’t this sleazy of me?”
“Haechan, I’m sorry–”
“You’re sorry?” He asks slowly, smugness creeping into his voice. “So you don’t want me to stop?” He continues, and when you shake your head vehemently, he makes a noise of understanding. “You like that, don’t you? Sleazy Haechannie’s fingers feel so good stuffed deep in your tight little pussy, right?” He purrs, and you let out as quiet of a wail as you can manage.
“Yes, Haechan, please just let me cum–” You’re more than exasperated at this point and Haechan must notice, because he closes his mouth over yours in a passionate kiss, occasionally stopping to bite or suck at your bottom lip.
“Cum for me, pretty. That’s it, fuck, just like that.” With his lips on yours muffling the moans you let out, Haechan urges you to the edge of your climax, eyes bright with an almost wild desire as he watches you tip over the brink. Your orgasm comes in a rush of ecstasy and electricity, adrenaline flooding through your veins as you cry Haechan’s name loudly and breathlessly whisper a string of swears, your nails digging into his shoulder in an attempt to ground yourself.
“Oh, my God,” You exhale shakily as he slowly pulls his hand from your underwear, your flustered gaze immediately darting elsewhere when you get a glimpse of the clear strings of your arousal clinging to his fingers. You peek back at him only to catch his fingers moving towards his mouth, averting your gaze again with a scandalized yelp. No amount of looking away, however, stops Haechan from flattening his body against yours, pressing you between himself and the fridge.
“Watch me.” He orders quietly, and you begrudgingly drag your gaze back to his face, astonished eyes widening when he slips his fingers in his mouth to clean them off. “You taste good,” Haechan groans, releasing his grip on your throat and studying you with heavy-lidded eyes.
“Stop staring at me like that.” You huff, and he raises an eyebrow, warning you to tread with caution.
“You know, I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter like the cute little fuckdoll I know you are,” He retorts, moving to grab your hips with both hands and massaging little circles into the flesh as he watches you in fascination. “Watch your tone and don’t push your luck.”
“I’m not a fuckdoll,” You protest, and Haechan just scoffs, gripping your hips tighter and turning you around with no regard for the startled yelp you let out, positioning you so your back is to his chest and your front is pressed up against the counter just beside the fridge. “Hae–Haechan, what are you doing?” You ask in a sort of post-climax daze still tinged with alarm, but Haechan yanks your shorts down to your knees, startling you into silence.
“What do you think I’m doing?” Haechan huffs under his breath, knocking your legs as far apart as they’ll go. “‘M fucking you,” He coos teasingly in your ear before pushing between your shoulder blades to flatten your torso to the counter.
“I thought you were holding back—”
“I changed my mind.”
You don’t have it in you to respond, instead resting your cheek on the cool countertop in complacency, and Haechan chuckles.
“That’s it,” He coaxes, simultaneously guiding the head of his cock to nestle between your folds. He pushes in slowly, a relieved breath whooshing from you as his length gradually fills you up. Your relief turns to alarm when you realize you feel full and he’s not done, and you whimper, reaching back to press a hand to his stomach reflexively. “Move your hand.” He grunts, and you shake your head worriedly, whining in panic. “Why are you stopping me, hm?” He strokes your back soothingly and you relax slightly, craning your head to look back at him.
“It’s too much,” You manage to get out, and he snickers.
“Too much? Am I too big, pretty?” He coos, feigning sympathy as he cruelly pushes in more, and you gasp loudly, pushing harder against his stomach. “Move your hand.”
“But–”
“Move it.” He says in a warning tone as if daring you to keep your hand there. After a moment of hesitation, you comply, moving your hand slowly. As soon as he sees an opportunity, he pushes into you fully, a low groan from him meeting your choked whimper. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Haechan hisses, and his fingers dig into your hips as he strains himself trying not to thrust into you.
“You can move, I think,” You murmur carefully, regretting it the second he does. Your hand flies back to stop him with a rushed, “Wait–”
He doesn’t give you a chance to make contact with his stomach, instead snatching your wrist and pressing it to your back.
“Relax,” Haechan purrs. “I’ll make it feel really good.” His promise does little to ease your worries, especially considering the way he’s digging his fingers into your hips as if restraining himself from moving inside of you.
“I–” You start, but he shushes you patronizingly as he pulls out slowly and pushes into you again. “Oh, fuck,” You whimper, your walls clenching around him as he moves inside of you.
“That’s it, take it like a good girl,” He mutters under his breath, and you cry out when he slides his hand up to grope your breast and tweak your nipple between his fingers. He pinches, twists, flicks, and tugs the erect bud with every thrust he makes until you’re a panting, teary-eyed mess under him, your jaw going slack from all the sensations.
You’re utterly trapped, stuck between Haechan’s body and the hard countertop, and the revelation comes with a wave of arousal when you realize you’re essentially at his mercy, your eyes glazing over as your body practically goes limp.
“Yeah, relax, pretty,” He coos, his hand abandoning your hip and finding itself between your legs to massage circles into your clit. “Take me nice and deep—feel so fucking good.” He grunts through gritted teeth. “So good at taking cock, aren’t you? Just a pretty little thing who needs her holes filled.”
“No—” You start to protest, but a well-placed thrust from Haechan has your mind scrambling, any and all words dying on your tongue.
“Mm, yes,” He hums, a grin audible in his voice. “Just a pretty little fuckdoll—my pretty fuckdoll—who loves getting fucked cock-dumb by her sleazy friend in her kitchen up against her fridge.” He stills his hips and you move to whip your head around to look at him, whining when he turns your head back to face forward.
“I said–fuck, Haechan–I said sorry,” You cry out, and he chuckles.
“Not forgiven yet.” He groans, and you can tell he wants to move just as badly as you want him to. You retaliate by clenching around him repeatedly, relishing the choked moan he lets out.
“What do I have to do?” You plead desperately, and he leans forward, lips by your ear.
“Cum all over my cock and I’ll consider forgiving you.” He purrs, resuming his thrusts to your relief. “So fucking tight, fuck—so good at taking cock—is that all you’re good for?”
“No,” You protest, but Haechan’s not having it.
“My cock feels so good with your pussy wrapped around it nice and tight.” He groans, biting down on your shoulder. “Gonna have to do a lot more convincing if you want me to think you’re good for anything else.”
“God, fuck you,” You huff through gritted teeth, not caring in the moment what might happen to you for snapping at him, but Haechan just chuckles.
“You already are.” His reply is smug and filled with challenge, daring you to reply, but you don’t take the bait, instead digging your nails into your palm to stop yourself from crying out again.
“Oh, shit, I’m so close–” You gasp, and Haechan massages circles into your clit, ushering in your climax as your mind goes blank and your eyes are forced shut from the pleasure. Your jaw going slack, you can only whimper Haechan’s name as pleasure courses through your body, and he moans, fucking you intently through your climax until you’ve ridden it for as far as it’ll go before speeding up.
“God, I never thought I’d hear you say my name like that,” He murmurs in awe. “That’s so fucking hot. And now? It’s my turn.” He grunts, a smile audible in his voice as his thrusts escalate to an almost brutal pace, each powerful stroke accompanied by a moan that fills your now blank mind with clouds of desire. “Gonna let me cum in you, pretty?”
“Yeah,” You exhale with a vigorous nod, and he hums appreciatively before bottoming out in you, hips stilling as he releases into you. You two remain like that for another moment before he pulls out of you, releasing his grip on you and rubbing your back gingerly.
“You good?” He asks breathlessly, and you nod again, looking over your shoulder and smiling at him. “Would help if you said something.” He jokes lightly, and you join in on his chuckle as you turn around, reaching down to pull your underwear and shorts back up.
“I’m great,” You assure him, and he visibly relaxes, a wide smile overtaking his features.
“Not so sleazy now, am I?” He teases, and you roll your eyes.
“Let it go!” You’re about to say more, but a random sniff of the air has you wrinkling up your nose in distaste. It smells like sweat and sex, and that’s gotta go if you plan to have more people over.
“Haechan, pass me that air freshener?” You ask, looking pointedly at the can on the counter nearest to him and he jerks his head back in confusion before obliging, tucking himself back into his pants. You promptly go berserk spraying everywhere and accidentally give Haechan a face full of air freshener, making him cough and splutter.
“What are you spraying, you crazy woman?” Haechan chokes out, and you turn to glower at him.
“The smell of sex away!”
“It does not smell like sex,” Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes, and you glare at him, lifting your hand and spraying him directly in the chest. “Hey, you little brat!”
“If Jeno and Jaemin come in and figure out what we did here, things are gonna get super awkward.” You explain worriedly.
Haechan snorts. “You’re telling me.”
“…What?”
“…Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Nothing.” He insists in a singsong voice, and you roll your eyes.
“Haechan, tell me!” You groan, and he shakes his head resolutely.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” He assures you cryptically, patting the top of your head patronizingly.
“What do you mean by that—oh, shit!” You cut yourself off with a yell of surprise when someone knocks loudly at your front door, and you shoot a panicked glance to a very unbothered Haechan. “Haechan, be a man and get the door.” You urge in a loud whisper, and Haechan stares blankly at you, unimpressed.
“It’s probably just Jeno and Jaemin,” He points out.
“Then you should have no problem getting it,” You counter with a furrowed brow, and he groans before turning on his heel and heading out of sight to your front door. The door opens and you can just make out Haechan’s voice greeting the mystery party, your grip on your air freshener loosening in relief. “Haechan, who is it?”
“Three large, burly criminals,” Haechan drawls in a bored tone. “They’ve got me at knifepoint.”
“Haechan, you’re not funny.” You call back, annoyed.
“Who’s being funny?” Haechan answers back defensively. “They told me they’re going to do…how did they put it? Oh, yeah—‘so much crime.’ They said they would do all of the crimes right now in your apartment.”
“You’re the worst.” You gripe as Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin round the corner of your hallway, your mouth cracking into a relieved grin as you recognize your friends. “Hey, guys.”
“Hi, scaredy-cat,” Haechan teases, flinching away at your sharp glare.
“I wasn’t talking to you, you were here already.” You wave Haechan off with a scoff. “And you just flinched away from the scaredy-cat, so what does that make you–”
“Will you two quit bickering, please?” Jaemin sighs loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. “You really are skittish, though,” He mumbles under his breath, mildly amused, and you gasp in betrayal as Haechan exclaims victoriously.
“Get out of my apartment.” You huff, crossing your arms.
“Be careful to close the door quietly though, so it doesn’t spook her.” Haechan snickers, and you whine loudly, slouching against the fridge.
“Oh, shut up,” Jeno pipes up, glowering at Haechan and Jaemin as he makes his way over to you and drapes his arm around your shoulders. “I think it’s cute,” He assures you, and you let out a soft, petulant hmph, not wanting to admit that Jeno calling you cute stirred up feelings in you that you didn’t know you had.
“Thanks,” You grouch. “Mark and Chaewon can’t make it, by the way.”
“Really? What happened at their away game?” Haechan asks, baffled.
You shrug. “Their bus broke down and the closest mechanic’s in the next town over and can’t come until the morning, so they’re staying at a hotel; that’s what they told me.”
“That sucks,” Jeno winces. “For them. Not us.”
“Yeah, now we get you all to ourselves. Chaewon always hogs you.” Jaemin winks in your direction, and you blink impassively at him. He sighs. “You’re still annoyed about the skittish thing—”
“I’m still annoyed about the skittish thing, yes.” You say, crossing your arms and leaning closer into Jeno’s warm side hug. Always a fan of physical affection, Jeno squeezes you and accepts readily when you curl into his side and wrap your arms around his waist in a full hug. “Jeno’s the only person here who actually treats me right.” You huff, turning your nose up disdainfully.
“Clearly someone else was treating you right recently,” Jaemin mutters under his breath, and you poke your head up to glare at him.
“What was that?”
“If the mark on your neck is anything to go by,” Jaemin says, jerking his chin in your direction, “I’d say someone else was treating you right recently.” His words are slow, playfully condescending and accompanied with a suggestive wiggle of his brows, and you frown, turning further into Jeno’s embrace.
“Everyone but Jeno…get out!” You cry dramatically, and Haechan and Jaemin protest immediately, their voices overlapping, but you drown them out easily as you look up at Jeno and smile widely, continuing with, “I bought chocolate milk, by the way.”
“No way!” Jeno’s whole face lights up, and you nod, releasing him to turn and open your fridge to him. “You’re the best.” He gushes excitedly, unwinding his arms from around you to reach in and grab the gallon.
“Yeah, to you,” Haechan grouches as he watches Jeno pour himself a cup of chocolate milk. Jeno pays him no mind.
“She’s a little menace to non-Jeno people.” Jaemin continues, and you blink at them impassively.
“I’m sweet to Chaewon, Mark, and Renjun.” You point out. “It’s just you two.”
“Well, aren’t we special.” Jaemin drawls sarcastically, and you fake a sweet smile.
“Sure are. Now don’t break anything; I’m gonna take a shower.” You warn them, and Haechan raises an eyebrow at you, a secretive smile on his face out of sight of both Jeno and Jaemin.
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” He asks, staring you down, and you can’t help but squirm on the spot, his intense gaze reminding you of when he had his hands all over you just minutes before Jeno and Jaemin arrived.
“I feel like showering,” You say, guarded as you meet his gaze levelly.
“But why—”
“I can’t hear you! Gonna go shower!” You call out over your shoulder as you make your way to your room. Shutting the door behind you, you let out a loud breath of relief.
If Haechan insists on being difficult the whole weekend, you’re really going to have your work cut out for you.
“Jeno, you’re so clumsy,” You chuckle fondly, turning the male so his back’s against the sink counter and he’s facing you. You reach around him to wet the rag in your hand, moving to blot his shirt free of the stain. Somehow in his excited chocolate milk consumption, Jeno managed to spill a good portion of it onto his shirt, so you led him to your bathroom to help him get the stain out.
“Good thing I have you to help me,” He replies sweetly, his eyes crinkling as he smiles at you only to wince at the feeling of the cold, wet rag against his skin.
“Sorry!” You apologize, and he shakes his head with a smile before gently moving your hands away from him. “What are you d–oh,” You ask, trailing off when Jeno reaches behind him, grasps the back of his shirt at the base of his neck, and pulls it over his head, leaving you to gawk at his shirtless, very toned form.
“That way you can clean it without me squirming under the shirt,” He supplies helpfully, and you nod after a moment’s hesitation, hoping there’s no way for Jeno to detect just how dry your throat has become. You stare, frozen, at Jeno’s half-naked form before snapping out of it and quickly turning around to face the sink, blindly grabbing the shirt from his outstretched hand. You ignore the soft chuckle from Jeno with a furrow of your brows which only deepens when you see that Jeno’s watching your face intently in the mirror.
“Stop staring at me,” You mumble nervously, and Jeno cocks his head to the side in intrigue, studying your flustered expression.
“But I like watching you.” He answers simply, and you just about choke on air, a pathetic squeak of surprise forcing its way out of you. “Plus,” Jeno adds, stepping closer to you, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off his body, “I wanna learn how to clean that stain out.”
“Then watch my hands,” You mutter, nibbling your bottom lip anxiously as you attempt to focus on what you’re doing. Jeno snickers and moves closer to you, his hands resting on either side of you on the sink, and you stiffen, freezing in place.
“But your face is so pretty,” Jeno says, voice bordering dangerously on a purr, and you swallow thickly, a task proven difficult given the still dry state of your mouth.
“Wh—well, I—you just—” You stammer, barely regaining your composure in time to finish with, “I can’t focus like this, Jeno.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jeno leans down, bringing his face level with yours in the mirror. “Why’s that?” His lips quirked into a smirk and a dangerous twinkle in his eyes, Jeno is the picture of temptation, not to mention the way his arms flex and tense as they rest on either side of you. It’s more than a little difficult to breathe at the moment, and you’re having a hard time attending to your task of washing out the stain on his shirt.
You clear your throat. “Jeno?”
“Hm?” That same almost-purring cadence to his voice, he quirks an eyebrow at you and it takes everything in you not to let your knees buckle.
“Pass me the detergent?” Your attempt to sound nonchalant falls flat when your voice cracks on the last word, a sound that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jeno, who exhales loudly from his nose in amusement. You point at the cabinet overhead to the left of you both, and he watches your reflection for a moment before complying, reaching over and grabbing the detergent with ease and setting it beside you on the sink. “Thanks.”
“Mhm.” He hums.
“Do you want me to explain what to do?” You ask.
“Yeah, walk me through it.” Jeno requests, and you give him a small nod.
“So I’m soaking the stain in cold water,” You start, and Jeno hums in acknowledgement, lowering himself to your height again and watching you intently. His unwavering stare has you buzzing in anticipation for…what, exactly, you don’t know. “Then you put some detergent on it and gently rub out the stain.” You continue as you do just that, your voice trailing off when Jeno wraps his arms around your waist in a back hug that would normally be fine if, firstly, Jeno had a shirt on, and, secondly, you weren’t helplessly attracted to him.
“Thanks,” Jeno says warmly, and you smile, patting his clasped hands resting on your stomach. “You’re always so sweet to me,” He coos, and you chuckle.
“I’m not that sweet,” You reply, and he shakes his head, nosing past your hair until his nose is brushing your cheek, his warm breath fanning over your jaw.
“You are,” Jeno insists, nose grazing down your cheek and stopping when he presses his lips to your neck. “You’re so sweet,” He murmurs, lips pressed to your skin, and you suck in a sharp breath, your hands gripping the counter so hard your knuckles ache. “So…fucking…sweet.” He purrs, kissing your neck after every word, and your knees do buckle this time, Jeno’s grip tightening around you just in time to catch you as you all but go limp in his arms.
“Jeno—” You mumble, not trusting your voice enough to speak at a normal volume.
“You’re so tense,” Jeno muses with a smile against your skin before sucking at a spot at the base of your neck. “Want me to help you relax?”
“H-How?” You ask, and from the low growl that sounds from Jeno’s chest, you assume you’ve walked right into a situation you might not be prepared for. He slips a hand between your legs and busies himself with playing with your clit over the fabric of your underwear. Your plaintive whimpers don’t do much besides spur him on as he kisses your neck, dark eyes watching you in the reflection of the mirror. “Jeno,” You whine pointedly, and he chuckles, nipping at your earlobe roughly.
He turns you around, lifts you up with ease, and sets you on the sink counter, ignoring your gasp in favor of getting directly in your personal space and licking his lips, eying you with all the smug determination of a predator that’s captured its prey.
“I bet you can guess.” He doesn’t say anything else for a moment, just studies your features with increasing curiosity before he slips his hand up your shirt enough to hook his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. Your gasp of surprise is cut off by the alarmed yelp you let out when he yanks—hard—so you’re sent lurching forward against him.
Your core pressed directly against his bare, toned abdomen and your legs reflexively closed around him and pressed up against his sides, you stare up at Jeno wide-eyed and breathless, bottom lip trapped between your teeth and your chest pressing against his with every heaving breath.
“Jeno—” You mumble, and he shushes you softly, leaning in to brush his lips against yours.
“Just relax.” He coaxes and you can’t help but think back to earlier when Haechan said the same thing to you and wonder to yourself how you got into this predicament. Jeno successfully pushes out any thoughts not centered around him when his free hand balls up the fabric at the small of your back and pulls you impossibly closer before capturing your lips in his with a growl.
“Je–”
“Shut up.” He mumbles against your mouth, and you can’t help but obey, immediately falling silent with a final whimper as his tongue pushes past the seam of your lips, quickly becoming intimately familiar with the inside of your mouth. Where Haechan earlier was sensual, rhythmic movements and playful flicks of the tongue, Jeno is harsh, sucking, nipping and biting, such a contrast from the sweet, smiley male you’re used to—a bold version of Jeno who takes exactly what he wants stands before you, kissing you senseless and leaving you lightheaded.
Jeno takes your lips as if they were meant to be his all along and he’s sick of waiting, with groans and even growls as he detaches his lips from yours and starts traveling down your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your skin as his hands wander, one slipping up your shirt to grope freely at your breasts while the other massages your core with heavy-handed rubbing that has you clutching his firm, toned arm for something to ground yourself.
“God, fuck–” You pant, pushing feebly at his…everything because it’s all just a bit too overwhelming— “Jeno, wait a second–” You gasp out in ecstasy when he shoves your shirt up past your breasts, yanks your bra cup down and latches onto your nipple, sucking roughly. A ghost of the Jeno you know blinks up at you with a question in his eyes, still swirling his tongue around your stiffened bud in his mouth as he waits for you to speak. “Are you sure we should be doing this? Now? Here?”
With a wet pop, Jeno pulls off of your breast and stands back up so your faces are level. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”
“I mean…yeah, but–”
“Then be good,” He brushes his lips against yours as his hand snakes into your underwear, “because I want a taste.” Your eyes widen as he drops to his knees and attaches his lips to your inner thigh, dark eyes staring up at you as he sucks and nips at the tender flesh.
“Not too low,” You exhale shakily, and he blinks up at you impassively before pushing your shorts up so they’re bunched around the flesh of your thighs and he proceeds to mouth at the unblemished skin of your inner thighs, gradually working his way towards where they meet as heat flares up throughout your body. His hands keep your legs spread with large palms pressing on your inner thighs as he brazenly rubs his face over your clothed core, eliciting a scandalized gasp from you.
“God, everything about you is so sweet.” He mumbles in a daze, hands dragging up your legs to grab your ass and force his face against your covered core even harder. Even through two layers of fabric, his nose presses against your clit enough to have you trying not to rock your hips against his face for more relief. Jeno notices quickly, his amused exhale warming the seat of your underwear even more, and flicks his gaze up to you as he hooks his fingers into the seat of your underwear and shorts and pulls both items aside, revealing your glistening wet core. The resounding silence has waves of nervous heat flooding through you and you look down only to see that Jeno’s staring at your pussy with unadulterated desire, eyes dark with lust as his thumbs gingerly part your folds, a sharp hiss escaping him when your entrance clenches in response.
“Jeno?” You hate how meek you sound but you feel so small under his scrutiny, the male before you inspecting the most intimate part of your body with a hunger you’ve never seen in anyone’s eyes before. He can barely tear his eyes away from your wetness before looking up at you, an eyebrow quirked expectantly.
“You have such a pretty fuckin’ pussy.” He rasps in awe, and heat washes over you like a tidal wave, your body blazing with embarrassment and the excitement from his praise. “God, it’s so pretty. Dripping, too; you want this that badly?” His eyes glinting with glee, his tone lilts teasingly as he addresses you.
“Please?” You whisper, and he stills in momentary surprise, looking back down between your spread legs with a poorly concealed hunger before groaning in frustration and leaning in to attach his mouth to your core. “Fuck—” You can’t help but gasp because when Jeno starts, he doesn’t hold back at all, devouring your pussy, lapping up every wave of arousal that gushes forth from your entrance with an eagerness you’ve never quite seen before.
Just like earlier, it’s overwhelming, the amount of everything you’re feeling, and your legs reflexively start to close around his head as he ravishes your most sensitive areas with rough sucking and licking, the whole ordeal complete with lewd moans from the male whose mouth seems permanently affixed to your core. Your legs barely apply pressure to his head before he’s shoving your legs back apart with a warning nip to your thigh and moving back in to resume his ministrations. The fabric of your underwear has slipped back over your core in the absence of his touch and Jeno huffs when he realizes the same thing, immediately yanking your shorts and underwear down your legs and letting the clothing drop to the floor carelessly.
He resumes his relentless tongue lashes against your sensitive bud, only stopping to dip lower and suck your folds into his mouth and run his tongue over them repeatedly. Your fingers are practically knotted in his hair, alternating between pulling him closer to you and trying to push him away when he’s just a bit too desiring of your core, and Jeno seems to love every bit of your reactions, responding to your every whimper and gasp with a moan of his own as he sucks and licks at your poor throbbing clit.
The whimpers and sobs you keep letting out only spur Jeno on further, the male going so far as to drape your legs over his shoulders and move in closer, his tongue teasing at your entrance before pushing into you, his hand flying up to cover your mouth and muffle the loud gasp that rings throughout the room. You can’t help but rock your hips against his face, your head tipping back to rest against the mirror in ecstasy. His nose rubs up against your clit with every inward push of his tongue and your quiet cries of pleasure are thankfully still silenced by Jeno’s large hand over your mouth as he fucks you with his tongue.
You jolt in alarm when you hear footsteps approaching the bathroom and flinch violently when a knock sounds out against the door.
“You guys okay in there?” Jaemin asks curiously, and you don’t even manage to come up with a coherent response; it’s Jeno who has the audacity to reply with his face still buried between your legs.
“Almost done!” He calls back, voice garbled because, well, it’s fairly hard to speak clearly with a mouth full of pussy.
There’s a moment of silence on the other side of the door, then your name is called.
“You good?” Jaemin sounds suspicious now, albeit a bit concerned, and you blanch, looking down at Jeno as your peak rapidly approaches.
“I–uh–I’m coming!” You yell back, trying to keep the whine out of your voice as your climax hits and sends you reeling, fingers tightening around Jeno’s hair and your entrance clenching around his tongue while your body trembles under his touch.
“…Okay…” Jaemin answers, sounding even more suspicious than before, and your face burns with embarrassment as Jeno hums contently against you and starts languidly lapping up as much of your arousal as he can. “Well, can you guys hurry? We wanna start the movie.”
“Sure!” You call back, a bit too eagerly and far too breathily, and wait until you hear Jaemin’s footsteps receding to relax, your body going slack with relief as you weakly push at Jeno’s head. He’s reluctant to pull away, his fingers digging into your thighs possessively, but when your pushing gets more insistent and your low whines pick up in urgency, he finally lets up, pulling back and sitting on his heels as he stares at your core, unbridled lust in his eyes.
“Good?” He asks, and you nod in a daze.
“Excellent,” You reply, and he grins, rocks off his heels and stands back up, helping you off the counter and passing your shorts and underwear to you. You make the mistake of looking down and are confronted with his jaw-droppingly large erection pressing against his shorts, your eyes widening in shock.
“I take it you like what you see,” Jeno chuckles and you blink several times to clear your mind before you meet his gaze with a sheepish smile.
“Sorry,” You mumble, and he gives your arm a gentle reassuring squeeze.
“You’re good. Hurry back down there so they don’t get any more suspicious.” He suggests, a smile so sweet on his face that you almost forget why his mouth is glistening.
“What are you gonna do about your shirt?” You mutter, reaching out to poke his bare stomach, and he catches your hand with a playful gaze, his eyes narrowed.
“I brought others, obviously. I’ll just grab one and change.”
“Cool, I’ll, uh, finish treating this one later.” You nod shyly and turn to leave but Jeno grips your hand tighter and whirls you back around into a deep, passionate, breath-stealing kiss, the taste of your arousal in your mouth as he swirls his tongue around with yours. When he releases you from his embrace, you gasp for air, fingers releasing his forearm quickly. “By the way,” Jeno hums, grinning, “…best pussy I’ve ever tasted.”
You let out a surprised sort of yelp, your face on fire as you nod quickly and try with all your might not to burst into nervous giggles. When you get back to the living room, Haechan and Jaemin stare at you suspiciously, no doubt confused by your slightly jittery state.
“You good?” Jaemin asks again, and you nod, albeit a bit too quickly, and his brow arches skeptically. “Are you sure?”
“I’m fine,” You insist, rolling your eyes and heading to the fridge to grab a can of Sprite. “I am.” You assure them, and Jaemin puts his hands up in a sort of surrendering gesture before jerking his chin towards the television.
“We’re still watching X-Men, right?” He looks at you and over your shoulder, prompting you to turn around and see Jeno coming up behind you with a new shirt on and an innocent smile that turns slightly more mischievous when Haechan and Jaemin look away from him. Your eyes widening, you turn back around to face your friends, putting on a casual appearance.
“Sounds good to me! Chaewon’s gonna be pissed we started without them.” You remind them, and Haechan shrugs.
“We can all pretend we didn’t watch it.” He suggests with a (very attractive) devilish grin before blatantly eying you up and down. His gaze, you note with a panicked jolt, lingers around your thighs before sliding back up to meet your eyes. “We can keep a little secret, right?”
You can’t help but feel like there’s more to the question he’s asked.
Pushing past the inkling, you narrow your eyes at Haechan and turn to Jaemin.
“I won’t tell if you guys won’t.” You say, and Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows at you flirtatiously.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He collapses back onto his chosen armchair and gets curled up as you and Jeno move to find your spaces.
“Come sit next to me,” Haechan calls to you from the couch, his eyes fixed on you intently. When you pause, just staring at him, he raises his eyebrows suggestively and pats the spot next to him invitingly.
After another moment of hesitation, you roll your eyes slightly and make your way towards Haechan, who grins widely. “Stop manspreading and maybe there’d be room for me to sit,” You point out with a huff, and he raises an eyebrow and shifts forward, leaning back more and becoming an extremely tempting seat option himself.
“Sit right here,” He offers in a low murmur, patting his thigh and looking at you suggestively.
“No.” You say simply, plopping down halfway on his leg and mostly on the couch beside him. When he lets out a sharp yelp of pain, you smile, satisfied, and move your leg off of him, forcing his legs closed by pushing him with the side of your leg. Already having gotten over it, Haechan drapes his arm behind you on the couch cushion, his arm hovering just above your shoulders. You shoot him a side-eyed glance, and Haechan wiggles his brows with a grin before dropping his arm down and pulling you into his side.
“You know I like to cuddle,” He murmurs in your ear, and you blink dazedly, humming weakly in acknowledgment. He’s warm and comfortable and smells amazing, and you can already feel your head clouding with desire.
“Are you two almost done?” Jaemin’s voice cuts through the fog in your mind and you meet his gaze to see that he’s more amused than annoyed, an expectant brow raised.
“Almost,” Haechan answers, and you look at him, confused, but he ignores you in favor of leaning forward (forcing you forward with a jolt, since he refuses to let go of your shoulder) and grabbing the folded blanket on your coffee table, unfolding it with one arm and clumsily situating it over your and his lap. “Now we’re done.”
Jaemin stares at Haechan with an unreadable expression for so long that it makes you uncomfortable before he turns back to the television and hits the play button. Jeno flicks the lights off, leaving you four in mostly darkness, and the opening credits of X-Men start to roll.
Less than thirty minutes into the movie, Haechan has moved his arm from around your shoulders and is letting his knuckles graze along the hem of your shorts, his eyes fixed on you.
“Pay attention,” You murmur as quietly as possible.
His gaze not wavering from the side of your face, he chuckles softly, slipping his fingers under your shorts and tracing along your thigh. “Oh, I am.”
“To the movie,” You hiss under your breath, and he leans in closer, his lips pressing to the spot just behind your ear.
“You’re more fun to watch.” He coos, and you roll your eyes and scoff in an attempt to conceal the nervous laugh you let out when his fingers sneak up higher. “Plus, you know you like it.”
“Shut up.” You mumble, and he pinches the flesh of your inner thigh, making you jolt in your spot and just barely conceal a yelp of pain and surprise.
“Told you to watch that mouth of yours earlier, didn’t I?” He warns you as you glare at him, affronted.
“You didn’t have to pinch me,” You hiss, and he chuckles, fingers continuing their journey up your leg to brush his fingertips against the heated, damp seat of your underwear. You suck in a quiet breath that, unfortunately, does not slip past Haechan, and he grins, eyes still trained on your face. “Stop staring at me,” You whine.
“Why? Does it make you nervous when I stare?” He asks with a smug little grin, and you frown, staring ahead at the screen pointedly. “Pay attention,” He urges, leaning closer to you to take your earlobe between his teeth. He tugs at the flesh gently, eliciting a small gasp from you, as two of his fingers find your clit and pinch it through the fabric. You squirm in your seat, fighting back a whimper, and he chuckles, tracing the shell of your ear with his tongue. “Stop fighting it.” He murmurs when he’s done, and you swallow thickly, staring at the screen with glazed over eyes. Wolverine’s blurry form grunts and roars as he engages in a fight scene, the details on the screen going virtually unnoticed as Haechan’s lips latch onto your neck, kissing and sucking.
“Fuck,” You suck in a sharp breath and he flicks at your neck with his tongue as if to say, “I heard that.”
Pushing your underwear aside, Haechan’s fingers spread you open and circle around your entrance, digits collecting arousal with every go-around. When you groan quietly and buck your hips against his hand, he pulls back, much to your dismay.
“I want to hear you say you want it.” He breathes against your cheek, and you whimper in protest, nibbling at your bottom lip as you think. Do you throw away your pride in favor of getting the release you want? Knowing Haechan, he might cave anyway simply from sheer desire— “We don’t have all day.” His voice is low and stern and he lightly nudges at your ear with the tip of his nose to help bring you out of your reverie.
“Haechan–” You whisper desperately, and he chuckles, pressing his fingers into you shallowly and pumping them excruciatingly slowly. “God, I can’t stand you.”
“Then sit,” He murmurs. “Preferably on my lap.”
“Do you always have to have a comeback?”
“Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.” He answers smugly. You suck your teeth and pinch his thigh in retaliation. He inhales sharply and hums appreciatively as you do, and you release him with a startled sound, looking over at him in surprise.
“Pain slut.”
“That’s me, baby.” With another gratuitous nip at your skin, he suddenly pulls back from you, fingers pushing into you finally to provoke a choked gasp from you. Before you can ask what happened, Jeno’s whispering both of your names from his space in the living room, and you look to see him facing both of you.
“I’m gonna use the bathroom!” Jeno announces in a low hush, and you nod, reaching for the remote.
“Want me to pause it?” You ask, and he shakes his head.
“Nah, I’ll be right back.” He assures you. “Maybe turn it down though, because Jaemin fell asleep.” He jerks his chin towards the chair Jaemin is sitting in, the male’s head tucked to his shoulder with his eyes closed. You coo affectionately at your sleeping friend’s figure and nod at Jeno, turning the volume on the movie down as Jeno gets up, stretches, and heads to your bathroom.
The second you hear the bathroom door close, Haechan pulls you onto his lap with a groan, guiding you into straddling his lap facing him.
“Haechan!” You whisper frantically, and he hums in acknowledgement as his fingers push back into you painfully slowly. “Jeno could come back!”
“Then hurry up.” He chuckles.
“Jaemin could hear–”
“Then shut up.” He claps his hand over your mouth and you whine against his palm, half disappointed he didn’t just put his fingers into your mouth. “Tell me what you want, and maybe I’ll give it to you.” His tone is teasing as he curls his fingers inside of you and you let out a low moan, your head tipping forward onto Haechan’s shoulder.
Your attempt to speak is muffled into his hand and he chuckles, his hand leaving your mouth to grope your chest, squeezing your breasts and teasing your nipples through the fabric.
“What was that?” He asks, turning his face into your neck and kissing along the skin.
“Please stop teasing,” You plead, and he makes a thoughtful sound before pulling out of you almost to his fingertips, flattening his palm against your core and grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. “Please?” You choke out, and he thrusts his fingers back into you quickly, finger fucking you thoroughly as you melt against him.
“Like that?” He grunts, and you nod vigorously, clutching his arm.
“Yeah, like that,” You moan, and he tsks disapprovingly.
“Better shut up before I stuff my fingers in your mouth.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” You ask, and Haechan lets out a surprised laugh, hand leaving your breast and tapping two fingers against your bottom lip. You readily take his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them and sucking, and he groans, teeth nipping at your neck appreciatively.
“Good girl,” He remarks, surprised, and you try to hide how you preen from his praise.
“Feels so good,” You whimper around his fingers, and he coos at you patronizingly, pressing his palm against your clit harder and relishing the way you grind against his hand.
“You’re so desperate,” Haechan snickers, and you whine, heat rushing to your cheeks as saliva drips down from around his fingers in your mouth. “Look at you—you’re drooling around my fingers, fucking my hand…all in front of Jaemin.”
“He’s sleeping!” You mumble defensively, and Haechan laughs mockingly.
“He could wake up,” He points out. “Or Jeno could come back. But you don’t care about that—”
“I do!”
“You just wanna cum all over my fingers like a needy little slut,” Haechan sneers, and you cry out weakly, a fresh string of drool dripping down your chin, some getting on his fingers. “Don’t you?”
“Yes,” You whimper, rocking back and forth against his hand desperately. Haechan studies the glistening saliva on your chin and his fingers with a wild fascination in his eyes before he pulls his fingers from your mouth, much to your dismay. Before you can protest, he swipes his tongue up from your chin, collecting the drool, to your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before releasing it and catching your lips in a proper kiss. “So close,” You gasp against his lips, and he nods almost in a daze as he keeps fingering you, brows slowly furrowing from his determination to pleasure you.
It only takes a moment more of his fingers driving in and out of you to send you spiraling into a powerful climax, your body trembling under his ministrations as you choke out gasps and whimpers into his shoulder. Only when he’s sure you’ve ridden out your high to the very end does Haechan remove his fingers, raising an eyebrow in a sort of cruel fascination when your hips involuntarily chase after his hand.
“Still needy, yeah?” He exhales in amusement, and you can only frown at him, bottom lip bordering dangerously on a pout. As if to answer his question, you rock against his hips, breath catching in your throat when you feel his concealed length pressing against you. “Oh, can you feel that?” He asks almost lazily, eyes heavy-lidded as he watches you move on top of him. When you nod, he grins, leaning forward with a challenge glinting in his eyes. “What are you gonna do about it?”
Unfortunately for both of you, the sound of movement from behind you has you springing off his lap and resituating yourself beside Haechan just in time for Jaemin to rouse from his sleep, blinking sleepily.
“What’d I miss?” He yawns, and you laugh, thankful the darkness of the room shrouds your flustered expression.
“Not much,” You lie. “We can rewind it if you want.” When he nods, you pick up the remote and hit the rewind button, leaning over to Haechan when Jaemin’s gaze is once again focused on the screen. “I’m going to the bathroom. Meet me there a little bit after Jeno comes back.”
He grins at you, shooting you a wink as confirmation, and you stand up, trying to conceal the slight wobble in your stance and thankfully succeeding before heading to the bathroom.
On your way there, you run directly into Jeno who’s on his way back and you start apologizing before realizing that he doesn’t seem all that sorry. Before you can even wonder why, his hands are on your hips and he presses you up against the nearest wall, staring down at you with eyes alight with mischief.
“Hi, pretty.” He chuckles.
“Hi, Jeno,” You coo, smiling up at him invitingly.
You may have initially been on your way to meet Haechan, but something about the look in Jeno’s eyes has your stomach fluttering with excitement, and you practically launch yourself at Jeno when he leans in, the male letting out a surprised but pleased grunt as he presses up against you.
You and Jeno kiss heatedly, your hands eagerly grabbing and pulling at Jeno’s clothes to get him closer to you as the latter wastes no time slipping his hand into your shorts where he’s confronted with the arousal from your last climax with Haechan.
“God, you’re so fucking wet,” He groans, and you whine into his mouth when his fingers toy with your clit, your free hand running through his hair and tugging messily to draw out a pleased grunt from the male in front of you. You clumsily push your hand into his sweats and gasp when you feel the sheer size of his length sitting hot and heavy in your hand, and Jeno chuckles. “Yeah, you like that?”
You can’t even bring yourself to respond fully as you only pant, “Yeah,” your mind still coasting off of the lust Haechan stirred up while you were supposed to be watching the movie. You rock your hips against his hand as he pushes two fingers into you and cry out weakly when his lips latch onto your neck, sucking, kissing, and biting. In your almost drunken haze, you notice that his mark is suspiciously near the one Haechan left you earlier, your eyes fluttering shut when his fingers curl and remind you of where your mind is supposed to be.
You wrap your fingers around his girth properly and start to stroke, pulling off and away from him to spit into your hand for lubrication and returning to him.
“That was so hot,” Jeno groans, an appreciative growl rumbling in his chest as he fucks into your hand. “Your hand feels much better than mine, pretty.”
“Feels so good, Jeno,” You whimper, and he nips at your neck a bit rougher than you anticipated, drawing a sharp whine from you that he muffles with his lips, capturing yours in a sudden, passionate kiss.
“Careful,” He teases, “Haechan and Jaemin are in the next room.” You cry out weakly at the reminder that you’re not alone, the sudden realization that Jeno is all over you and has two fingers inside of you less than twenty feet away from your other friends sends another wave of arousal through you and your jaw goes slack as his fingers curl inside of you. His long, slender digits fuck you diligently, leaving you gasping for relief and clenching desperately around his fingers.
“Jeno,” You mumble, still pumping his length quickly, and he groans against your skin, the sound raw and almost tortured, even. “I wanna come–” Your words are cut off by the sound of Jaemin laughing from the living room, making you flinch in surprise and, apparently, almost climax on the spot, your knees buckling as Jeno uses his free hand to nudge your shorts down to your knees, the clothing dropping to the floor and pooling around your ankles. “Fuck, right there, please, please, please—”
“Right here?” Jeno taunts, sending his fingers thrusting into your sweet spot before sucking in a ragged breath through gritted teeth. “Pretty girl, I’m close.”
“Me too,” You whimper, powering through the ache in your wrist as you squeeze Jeno’s length with every upward tug, relishing the groans he muffles into your shoulder.
“Let me finish inside of you,” He pants, and you falter in your movements, shooting him a bewildered glance. “There’s—fuck—so much I wanna do to you,” He grunts, “but first I gotta cum somewhere.”
You realize he has a point; he can’t just finish into your hand and leave you with a messy cleanup, and you’re not fully in the mood to get on your knees and swallow it, so you might as well just let him—
“Baby,” He groans urgently, and you snap out of your thinking spiral to focus your hazy mind on his words. “Come on; just the tip, pretty? No more than that.” He promises, and you nibble your bottom lip thoughtfully before nodding and spreading your legs a bit wider. He sighs in relief and hikes one of your legs up so your knee is level with his hip and you guide him between your legs, the feeling of the blunt head of his length filling you with excitement as it presses against your entrance. He removes his fingers from inside of you, bringing them to your clit to rub quick, determined circles, and pushes into you slowly with a careful rock of his hips, keeping his promise of no further than the tip as he nestles it between your folds and hisses in ecstasy when your walls flex around him. “So good for me, baby. So, so good, feels so tight, fuck—” Jeno’s practically babbling at this point, losing himself in the feeling of your hand stroking him as his tip is buried inside of your slick walls, and his head falls forward to rest against the wall beside you, the male emitting a low groan before mumbling, “I can’t—‘m sorry, I can’t—”
“Jeno?” You gasp in a panic as you feel him pushing into you further. “Fuck, Jeno—”
“Just a little bit more,” He rasps, and you cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet, whines of alarm increasing as your walls clench around him tightly and he pushes in more.
“Jeno, you’re too big,” You panic, pushing at his abdomen to halt his movements, but you both know that he’s stronger than you and you’re ultimately just resting your hand on his stomach in defeat before your nails dig into his skin as he pushes in even more, the overwhelmingly full sensation making you feel dizzy.
“You can take it, right, baby?” He grunts, and your breath comes in short little bursts as he bottoms out in you entirely, your head spinning as you lean back to rest against the wall. “That’s my good girl,” He purrs, his length twitching as he rocks his hips against yours in slight movements.
“Jeno—” You moan urgently, and he groans under his breath as his movements stutter and he releases inside of you. Your eyes flutter shut as he shoots his cum deep inside of you even as you’re still adjusting to his size.
“You did so good,” He praises, cupping your cheek and kissing you. “So fucking good.”
“You said just the tip,” You huff, and he hums sympathetically, kissing you a couple more times.
“I know, but you felt so good,” He admits. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“Okay, my turn,” You plead impatiently. “You owe me after that.”
Jeno grins and nods in acknowledgement, carefully pulling out of you and, to your surprise, pushing his fingers back into you. Ignoring your gasp, Jeno diligently finger-fucks his cum back into you, the pads of his fingers finding your sweet spot again with ease as he bites down on your neck and sucks hard. “Oh, my God–Jeno, I’m–” You stammer, and he shushes you sweetly, lapping his tongue over the bite mark left where your shoulder and neck meet.
“I know, pretty,” He assures you. “Come for me, it’s okay.” With that, you fall apart, a desperate cry of relief just barely making it past your lips as your climax hits you, shudders coursing through your body as you curl in on yourself, Jeno wincing as your hand tightens around his arm almost painfully.
“Sorry,” You whisper, loosening your grip on his bicep, and he shushes you again, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth in a sweet almost-kiss.
“It’s okay,” He assures you, gingerly pulling his fingers out of you, and you release him fully with another murmured apology. “Good?”
“Wonderful,” You reply in a daze, blinking up at him slowly. “How about you?”
“Perfect,” He answers, eyes crinkling as he smiles down at you.
“You, uh, go ahead and watch the movie; I’m gonna take care of…” You mumble, gesturing between your legs. As if on cue, a small gush of your mixed releases drips down your leg and you cringe at the sensation, only catching Jeno’s wild-eyed expression at the last minute as he watches it descend down your thigh. “Jeno?”
“I’m gonna go before I decide to fuck you right up against this wall.” He says, eyes still trained on your bare legs and the space between them. You let out a small yelp of surprise and his gaze darkens, his tongue coming out to swipe along his bottom lip.
“Jeno?” You call tentatively, and he blinks once, twice, and a third time before looking up at you.
“Yeah?”
“Movie.”
“Right…right.” He mutters, tearing his gaze away from your bare core and turning on his heel to head back into the living room. You pull up your shorts and underwear most of the way, not wanting to come into contact with the now cold seat of your underwear, and wait until Jeno rounds the corner and is out of eyesight to make your way to the bathroom.
After tidying yourself up, you decide to forego the underwear, not wanting to wear cold, slick clothing for the rest of the night. Balling them up in your fist, you head out of the bathroom and towards your room to change into a new pair, barely stifling your shriek of alarm when you bump directly into Jaemin’s chest.
“Sorry, Jaem,” You laugh breathlessly, looking up at the male, and your mouth dries. Jaemin, to put it bluntly, looks like he’s onto you. His brows are raised and his face is the epitome of if you tossed skepticism, amusement, and being entirely unimpressed into a blender and pressed the start button.
“Wh…what’s that look for?” You ask nervously, and Jaemin’s lip quirks up into a smug smile, a devilish little grin that silently sings, “I know something you don’t know.”
“Don’t act innocent when we both know what you were doing less than ten minutes ago.” He scolds you in that patronizing tone that’s so uniquely Jaemin, and you blanch, your fist tightening around your soiled undergarment.
“What do you mean?” The words don’t even sound right coming out of your mouth, and you wonder if you look as guilty as you feel.
His lips stretch into a Cheshire cat-like grin as he leans in, closing the gap between your faces as he studies you with an unnerving steadiness.
“‘Just the tip, pretty,’” He mocks Jeno’s voice, and if there was any hope of you making it out of this encounter unscathed, you just kissed it goodbye.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” You mumble, your face feeling simultaneously drained of all color and blazing with heat.
“But I did.” Jaemin lilts, reaching up to twirl a lock of your hair around his finger. Normally, the gesture would feel fond, affectionate even, but the look in Jaemin’s eyes has you feeling more like a mouse being batted around by a cat before it goes in for the kill. He tugs unexpectedly on your hair and your hand flies up to stop him a moment too soon, your eyes widening when Jaemin’s other hand shoots out and grabs your wrist, holding your balled up fist (and underwear) up in plain sight. “What do we have here?” He murmurs curiously, eyes alight with a cruel, mocking glee.
“Jaemin, please let it go—”
“No underwear?” Jaemin lets out a fake scandalized gasp, the picture of horror before he’s tugging your wrist, bringing you lurching forward and crashing, yet again, into his firm chest. “Oh, you’re such a tease.”
“Jaemin, I’m not—” You whine, but you can’t even deny that Jaemin’s undivided attention on you like this has heat flooding between your legs and you suddenly wish you’d worn the underwear as an extra layer of defense against the arousal you know is about to start leaking out of you.
“First, you snuck off to play with Haechan before we got here—as if no one would notice,” Jaemin looks up thoughtfully, holding up his free hand to count on his fingers. “Then you and Jeno snuck off and hooked up in the bathroom. Then you fooled around with Haechan again—yeah, I wasn’t asleep on the couch,” Jaemin reveals when you splutter in surprise. “Then you went off with Jeno another time, and now you’re standing in front of me, all pretty and nervous and tempting with no fucking underwear on…and nothing for Nana? Hm?”
When you don’t answer, simply at a loss for words, Jaemin sucks his teeth in disapproval and tugs you after him to lead you to your room next door, shutting the door behind you both and pushing you up against it, ignoring your gasp when your back hits the wall.
“Jaemin, I’m sorry,” You try to say, but Jaemin silences you with a stern look, leaving you feeling small under his gaze. After a moment of tense silence, he sighs loudly and pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand.
“Stop looking at me all wide-eyed and helpless like that,” He huffs, watching you with dark eyes. “It’s making me hard.” His words go straight to your head, making you blink up at him in shock, and he rolls his eyes, moving closer to you, and pushes his leg between yours, brows shooting up in intrigue when a pathetic little moan escapes you. “What a pretty little sound,” Jaemin muses, the corners of his lips quirking upwards. “I think I’ll do that again.”
“Jaemin–” You try to reason with him again, but he shushes you, shifting his attention back to his fingers wrapped around your wrist, your underwear still balled up in your fist. He looks down at you with a sadistically intrigued expression and reaches to pull the fabric from your fist, raising an eyebrow when you yelp and clutch it tighter.
“Open your hand.” He says slowly, and you shake your head vehemently. “Fine.” He smiles sweetly down at you before pressing his thigh against your clothed core, smirking when you visibly struggle not to grind down on it. “Why are you fighting it, hm?” He murmurs curiously, cocking his head to the side. “Just give in,” Jaemin purrs, tensing his leg under you, and you mewl weakly as you roll your hips against his thigh, body slackening in relief.
“No!” You cry out when Jaemin takes advantage of your relaxed grip and pulls the underwear from your hand, immediately averting your eyes in shame. As if to rub in his victory more, he moves his leg between your thighs so you’re rocking back and forth against him, a wide smug grin overtaking his lips.
“I never imagined you were this sensitive, but I love it.” He murmurs, stopping his movements and studying your underwear, turning the garment this way and that. “God, these are soaked; you’re just a little mess, aren’t you?”
“Jaemin, please–” You mumble, and he blinks down at you impassively.
“Pretty girl, you don’t like this?” He taunts in a sickeningly sweet voice, and you whine, shaking your head insistently, your cheeks blazing with embarrassment as he continues, “If you don’t like my teasing…then why are you making all those cute little noises?” You, true to his word, cry out weakly and rock your hips against him desperately. “Mm, that’s what I thought.” He barely finishes his sentence before he’s bringing your underwear to his face, clutching the fabric to his nose and breathing in deeply, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss. Completely caught off-guard, you gasp, and his low groan evokes an overwhelmed whimper from you.
“…Jaemin?” You try again, your voice small and needy, and he slowly opens his eyes again, his gaze now considerably darker and more intense than it was moments ago.
“Your eyes are already telling me yes,” He muses, tilting your head up by your chin and staring you down. “I can see your body agrees,” Jaemin continues, trailing his hand down your front and tweaking your hardened nipple gently, grinning when you squeal and push your chest further into his hand. “Now I just want to hear that pretty mouth tell me how much you want it.”
“Want it so bad, Jaemin,” You say immediately, stumbling slightly over your words as you look up at him hopefully. “Please do something—more—anything.”
“Aw, you sound so sweet when you beg.” He coos, tugging at your other nipple playfully before pinching it, the sensation a bit too overwhelming and drawing forth a sharp hiss from your lips. “Did you suck either of them off?” Jaemin asks, and you shake your head, your mouth already starting to water at the prospect of his length in your mouth. “On your knees.” He pushes down on your shoulder gently, and you oblige, sinking to your knees readily and blinking up at him expectantly, awaiting further instructions. “God, I knew you could be good for me,” He praises you, and you smile, flattered. He wastes no time tugging his sweats down to reveal his length, your eyes widening slightly as you take the sight of him in. A quick glance up at Jaemin grants you the sight of his crooked grin as he studies you while you study him, and you look back down to his length, swallowing thickly as you watch his fist pump himself up and down, lazily tugging at his length. “This what you want?” He asks, and you nod. “Words.”
“Yes,” You answer in a hushed murmur.
“Mm, yeah? Want Nana’s cock in that pretty little mouth?” He’s most certainly teasing you, but you don’t even have it in you to be ashamed or indignant, your only thoughts centering around his length and the way precum seeps from his slit as he strokes himself.
“Yes, please,” You reply, squeezing your thighs together for some friction, and he hums in an impressed surprise.
“Please? How could I say no when you use your manners like that?” He murmurs fondly, stroking your hair as he guides himself to your lips. “Open,” He says softly, and you oblige. “Tongue out.” He orders, and you let your tongue loll out of your mouth, blinking up at him with wide eyes. “Such a pretty fucking sight,” Jaemin groans, tapping the head of his cock against your tongue; his cock is hot and heavy and you can taste the stray drops of precum sliding down the underside of his length. “Go ahead, pretty.” He urges, and you don’t need to be told twice; you sit forward eagerly and replace Jaemin’s hand around his length with yours, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.
When Jaemin hisses and lets his head tip back, you swirl your tongue around his length, lapping at his slit and flicking your tongue against where the underside of his tip meets his shaft, practically purring with satisfaction when he strokes your hair fondly. You start to bob your head up and down, your tongue dragging along the underside of his cock with every movement, and you work your hand over whatever isn’t in your mouth, eyes on Jaemin to drink up his every reaction. You two are engrossed in the feeling of each other, so much so that when Haechan opens the bedroom door, you jolt so suddenly and violently that it’s a miracle you don’t bite down on Jaemin.
“Well, well, well,” Haechan drawls, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. You pull off of Jaemin, the action resulting in a loud, wet pop that has heat blazing in your cheeks, and Jaemin stares at Haechan, entirely unbothered. “What do we have here?”
“She was just making up for playing with both of you and not me,” Jaemin hums, still stroking your hair; something about the action is different now, though, more possessive than it was before, and you can’t say the shift in the gesture doesn’t thrill you a bit, your thighs squeezing together of their own accord.
“Not our fault you were too slow to do something about it.” Haechan counters, and Jaemin narrows his eyes.
“Yeah, well, now if you want her to suck you off, you’re either gonna have to wait until I’m done or come join me.”
“Damn, who died and made you the orgy boss?” Haechan grouches, striding closer to you two nonetheless and pushing his sweats down to free his length. You take a break from warming Jaemin’s cock in your mouth to lick up Haechan’s cock and suck on the tip, wiggling your tongue in the slit to elicit a loud swear from Haechan, whose hand flies to the back of your head. “God, what a good little mouth you have,” Haechan praises you, albeit a bit condescendingly, and you hum, content, before Jaemin guides you away from Haechan and back to him. You let your tongue loll out and Jaemin rubs the underside of his cock against it before pushing himself into your mouth with a groan. You wrap your hand around the base of Haechan’s cock and pump slowly to keep him occupied while your mouth is busy, and Haechan exhales loudly through his nose, swearing under his breath.
When you pull off Jaemin and kiss down to his balls, licking and sucking them, Haechan growls enviously and pulls at your hair to get you away from Jaemin and back to him. After a moment of mouthing at Jaemin’s balls and stroking him with your hand, you pull away and look up at Haechan with expectant eyes.
“Come get your pretty face fucked.” He urges, and you drop your jaw and let Haechan guide his length past your lips before he’s thrusting into your mouth with poorly concealed grunts and groans, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.
All you can do as he fucks your mouth is whimper and stroke Jaemin’s length more urgently, your now free hand moving between your legs to rub at your clit desperately. Haechan pulls out and taps his cock lazily against both of your cheeks before murmuring, “I think you like getting your mouth fucked.” When you nod, he tsks in disapproval. “Tell me you like it.”
“I like it,” You rasp, your voice hoarse.
“Mm, tell me you love it.” He taunts, and you clear your throat in an attempt to regain some of your voice back.
“I love it,” You echo obediently, your voice still raspy, and Jaemin and Haechan coo at you fondly.
“What a good girl,” Haechan praises.
“Love how she sounds after getting her throat fucked.” Jaemin admires, stroking your cheek, and you preen under the praise before switching over to Jaemin to let him fuck your throat next.
This time, when it’s Jeno who comes in, it comes as less of a shock to you, possibly due to how incredibly occupied your mouth is with two demanding cocks before you.
“Jeno, if you want a blowjob, you’re gonna have to wait,” Haechan grunts, and Jeno waves him off dismissively, moving to kneel behind you and pull your hips back so you’re bent at a bit of an angle, your head closer to Jaemin and Haechan and your ass closer to Jeno. Two large hands pull your shorts down, and Jeno hisses when he realizes you’re not wearing any underwear.
“God, you’re so fucking tempting.” He mutters, and the rustling behind you sends a thrill of excitement down your spine which only doubles when Jeno presses himself against your entrance. He busies himself with coating his length in your arousal, ignoring your whines and the impatient pushing back of your hips into him.
It’s not until you pull off of Jaemin and turn your head back towards Jeno and hoarsely plead, “Jeno, please,” that he obliges, pushing himself into you slowly. He kneads your asscheeks with heavy hands as he slowly buries himself in you, and your head falls forward onto Haechan as you pant from the overwhelming sensation.
“Look at her,” Haechan coos, tilting your chin up to see you better and show you off to Jaemin. “So relieved to take cock that she’s drooling.”
“You’re making a mess.” Jaemin points out patronizingly, swiping at the saliva dripping down your chin and regarding it briefly before slowly smearing it over your lips, the subtle yet demeaning gesture sending a wave of arousal through you and making you clench around Jeno.
“Fuck, her pussy just got so tight,” Jeno grunts through gritted teeth, and you let out a weak sob, pressing your hips back onto Jeno while your mind attempts to steady itself once more.
“So big,” You cry out, and Jeno shushes you soothingly, caressing your sides as he starts to rock into you with slow, purposeful thrusts.
“I know, baby, I know,” He murmurs soothingly, “I know it’s a lot, but look how good you take it.” His praise shoots straight to your head and you find yourself clenching around him again, much to his delight. Bless his patience, because he keeps the same pace for an unbearingly long time to help you adjust to his size, but you desperately need him to go faster.
You’re about to beg for him to speed up, preparing to pull off of Haechan’s length, when Haechan pushes your head down so his cock is sheathed in your throat. Your only breaths come in the short inhales you can manage through your nose and your whining gets increasingly more desperate as Haechan holds you down until you’re clawing at his thighs, adorning the tan skin with angry red streaks and finally earning yourself release.
“Faster,” You gasp when you finally pull off of Haechan, pausing only to glare sharply at the male above you. “Jeno, go faster.”
“Thank fucking God,” He groans before pulling out of you almost to the tip and slamming his hips into you, quickly building up a pace that has involuntary breathless, whiny moans leaving you with every thrust.
“Hae—chan,” You manage to get out, and he looks down at you curiously. “Fuck—you,” You finish before taking Jaemin into your mouth after he taps on your cheek impatiently with the head of his cock.
“Sorry, pretty girl,” He says with a remorseless smile. “Your mouth is just too good.”
“I’m gonna cum,” Jaemin warns you through gritted teeth, and you nod as well as you can, your hands speeding up on both his and Haechan’s cocks, and Jaemin tips his head back with a groan as he releases into your mouth.
“Fuck, I’m next,” Haechan grunts, and you whimper before switching to take him into your mouth, Jaemin’s cum still on your tongue, and Haechan climaxes, his release mingling with Jaemin’s in your mouth.
“Swallow.” Jaemin urges. “All of it.” You readily oblige and he smiles proudly at you, stroking your chin with his thumb. “Open your mouth for me, baby.” He murmurs, and you do, sticking out your tongue as proof you’ve done as he asked.
“God, that’s so fucking hot.” Haechan groans, dropping to his knees in front of you and pulling you into a heated kiss as Jaemin catches his breath. With Jeno pounding away behind you, you’re more than a little distracted, and Haechan pulls away after sucking on your tongue to shake your head abruptly by the chin to get your attention. “Kiss me like you mean it.” You whine into his mouth when he recaptures your lips in his, now attempting to focus some of your attention on Haechan’s tongue exploring your mouth as he flicks and swirls, eagerly tasting himself and Jaemin on your tongue.
After a moment, Haechan has mercy on you, allowing you to go slack-jawed while he presses kisses to your lips as Jeno fucks you stupid from behind. The sounds of his grunts and your breathy moans fill the room, and Haechan chuckles.
“Jeno’s fucking you so good, isn’t he?” He murmurs sweetly, and you nod, your eyes stinging as tears threaten to spill forth.
“Uh-huh,” You moan, and Haechan coos fondly.
“You just love taking cock, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh–”
“Just our pretty little fucktoy, aren’t you?”
“Mm—uh-huh,” You cry, and Haechan snickers.
“Is that all you can say?”
“Uh-huh,” You gasp, and Haechan pouts at you mockingly.
“Our dumb little fucktoy doesn’t even know how to speak anymore,” He taunts, forcing you to make eye contact by pinching your chin and angling your face towards his. “Isn’t that right?”
“Uh—fuck—uh-huh,” You wail, and the tears finally do spill, streaming down your cheeks freely. Haechan kisses down the tear tracks before connecting your lips in another kiss, his lips wet and salty from the evidence of your crying.
“God, what is it about seeing tears stream down those pretty cheeks that makes me so hard?” He groans, his hand finding his cock and starting to tug at it slowly. You watch in a dazed sort of amazement as he strokes himself back into action before your eyes scrunch shut as your climax approaches.
“Jeno, please, I’m gonna–” You beg, and Jeno lets out a little grunt of “Yeah?” that has your mind swirling deliriously and you topple over the edge, your walls pulsating around his length as you whimper and sniffle Jeno’s name repeatedly. Jeno’s not far behind, soon slowing his thrusts down as he starts to release into you, only stopping and pulling out when you shudder and swipe behind you weakly. His cum’s just barely started dripping out of you when Haechan kisses your cheek to get your attention.
When your dazed, glassy eyes manage to focus on his face, Haechan smiles warmly. “On the bed.” He urges you. “I want you to ride me.”
Your muscles all but give out at the notion, but you push through it, clambering gracelessly onto your bed and into Haechan’s waiting lap. Haechan carefully moves all the hair away from your face and cups your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss as he licks at your bottom lip.
“So pretty,” Haechan purrs against your mouth, and you whimper as he lifts your hips and guides his cock to your entrance, both of you holding your breath as he pushes the thick head of his cock into you. “God, still so fucking tight.” He groans, slowly guiding you down onto his length until he’s bottomed out in you.
“Haechan,” You plead, and he just chuckles, smacking your ass playfully and leaning back against your headboard as he raises his brows expectantly. You lift yourself up slowly before starting to bounce on his cock, involuntary shudders escaping you at the sensation of his length filling you at a new angle.
“Yeah, that’s it,” He grunts, lifting your shirt and kissing down to your chest. He reaches up and presses between your shoulder blades to push your breasts in his face, and he promptly buries his face in your cleavage with a groan, kissing, sucking, and licking. His ministrations on your chest and the feeling of his length moving inside of you overwhelm your senses so much that you don’t notice Haechan sneakily moving your bra out of the way until his lips are wrapped around your nipple, and a sudden moan escapes you at the added sensation.
Despite the burning ache building in your thighs, you rock down on him with every downward motion, grinding on him as you ride him, and his eyes roll back into his head before he refocuses his gaze on you with heavy-lidded eyes, pupils blown wide with lust and desire.
“Could watch you ride me all day.” Haechan coos from around your nipple before moving to suck at the other one, tugging on the now neglected bud while his tongue swirls around the nipple in his mouth, shifting his gaze up to yours as he flicks your nipple with his tongue in up-and-down movements that have your jaw slackening, desire consuming you as you watch him.
“Does it feel good, pretty girl?” Jaemin asks from beside Haechan, and you blink twice in surprise as your gaze shifts to him, having momentarily forgotten where he went.
“Mhm,” You whine pathetically, and he grins, slowly pumping his cock with his fist.
“Haechan, hurry up, I want her next.” Jaemin hisses through clenched teeth, and you blanch, realizing that you’re far from done.
“Tongue out,” Haechan urges you, snapping you out of your daze, and you oblige, letting your tongue hang out of your mouth, and Haechan moves his hand to play with your clit, grinning mischievously when you attempt to move away from his touch. “Take it.” He grunts, thumb following your every movement and massaging your clit relentlessly even as you whine and sniffle. “Oh, baby,” Haechan coos sympathetically, gaining your attention again. “You’re drooling everywhere.”
When you move to wipe it, Haechan catches your wrist and brings it back to your joined laps, instead leaning forward and lapping up the saliva that’s dripping down your chin and neck. As he nears your lips, you bring your tongue back into your mouth, jolting when Haechan swats at your ass warningly.
“Keep that tongue out.” He murmurs, and you stick it out again, an open-mouthed whimper escaping you when Haechan flicks at your tongue with his before sucking on it.
“Haechan, I’m close,” You warn him in a shaky voice, and he nods, moving his hips under you to meet your movements.
“Me too, pretty girl.” He assures you, and your head drops forward to rest on his shoulder as your climax hits and a series of whiny, breathy moans spill from you. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” He moans, his head falling back onto your headboard as he releases inside of you. “What a mess,” Haechan chuckles, and at first you think he’s talking about you, but when his hand slips between your legs to pull out and feel your almost impossibly slick folds, he groans and pulls his now glistening fingers back, regarding them curiously.
“Haechan?” You mumble, confused, and he flicks his gaze up to your face before he smiles devilishly and shuffles down the bed so he can lie down on his back.
“Come on,” Jaemin groans, his head thumping back onto the pillow, and Haechan just shoots him an unbothered look.
“Come here,” Haechan grunts, pulling your hips towards his face, and you shuffle up as slowly as possible, trying to buy yourself time to recover from your climax. Haechan, however, is having none of it, and shuffles down even more to meet you where you’re at, thumbs eagerly spreading your folds apart and inspecting your core as heat blazes in your cheeks.
“God, what a pretty little pussy you have.” Haechan admires you loudly.
“Tastes good, too.” Jeno adds on, shooting you a wink, and Haechan chuckles.
“Oh, yeah? Guess I get to see for myself.” He mutters under his breath before removing his thumbs from your core and leaning up to press a kiss to your pussy lips, groaning and repeating the action again and again for a longer time each kiss before his tongue parts your lips and swipes up your pussy from your entrance to the underside of your clit. An abrupt whine escapes you and your thighs give out slightly, dropping you further down onto his mouth. His hands reach up to grab your thighs, urging you all the way down on his face, while he laps at your overly sensitive clit with no regard for how sensitive you are, only chuckling when you can only choke out moans with teary eyes.
Alternating between sucking and lapping at your clit and folds, Haechan groans in ecstasy as he pulls you down harder onto his face, guiding your hips to rock back and forth on his tongue. “Fuck, Jeno, you weren’t kidding,” Haechan pants when he takes a moment to breathe before returning to his task. “Tastes so fuckin’ good,” He mumbles, eyes wild in their hungry gaze up at you, and his mouth seals around your clit without any further words. You rock your hips against his tongue as quickly as you can, your hips bucking as it’s all somehow too much and yet not enough. The salvation you were looking for comes when Haechan stiffens his tongue to a point and breaches your entrance, flicking inside of you.
“Oh, my God,” You cry, your body moving of its own accord as you start to bounce up and down slightly, helping Haechan tongue-fuck you. “Oh, fuck, Haechan—just like that—”
He pulls his tongue out for a moment, a disappointed whimper slipping from your lips, before urging you, “Beg for it.” He stares up at you with intense eyes alight with challenge, and you can practically feel the fight leaving your body.
“Please!” You give in immediately, and Haechan’s brows fly up, almost disappearing into his hairline, as you continue to beg. “Haechan, please make me cum, please, please, please–”
“Fuck, baby,” He groans, his arms tightening around your thighs almost painfully as he holds you to his mouth, mumbling in an almost delirious state, “Anything you want, fuck, I’ll give you everything.” His tongue slips into you again and his nose rubs against your clit, making tears of relief streak down your face as the pleasure consumes you and your climax gets deliciously close.
“Don’t stop–” You pant, your last word cutting off as you hit your peak and your eyes force themselves shut, bliss overtaking your body in warm waves while your abdomen tenses and you curl in on yourself.
When you reopen your eyes, Jeno’s situated himself beside Haechan, watching you intently as he strokes himself slowly, and you lean forward to take Jeno’s length into your mouth, the taste of yourself still faintly on him as you bob your head up and down his length at a pace slightly faster than the leisurely pace he’d set for himself just a moment ago.
As you lean forward, you lift your hips off of Haechan, only to be yanked back down by the male beneath you, who says, “Get back down here; I’m not done with you yet,” before he promptly buries his face in your core once more.
Pushing two fingers into you, Haechan hooks his fingers into your g-spot and starts to finger-fuck you diligently, his tongue rolling over and lapping at your clit even as you whine around Jeno’s length and attempt to squirm away.
When your eyes squeeze shut, tears forcing their way through the minuscule space, Jeno cups your cheek, making you open your eyes to look at him.
“Keep your eyes open, baby; look at me.” Jeno urges gently, smiling when you oblige and resume bobbing your head up and down his length. When you push through the discomfort and the ache in your jaw to take his length all the way in your mouth and swallow around his cock, Jeno hisses appreciatively, stroking your hair. “That’s good, baby, that’s so good; keep on doing that.” You hum happily, dizzy with all the praise and pleasure, and Jeno’s hips buck upwards into your mouth, making you choke briefly around him, and that’s all it takes for Jeno to lose it, the male shuddering as he releases down your throat. You swallow without dwelling on the taste and look up at Jeno who looks like he would have hearts in his eyes if you were all in a cartoon.
Haechan, not one to be ignored, presses the pad of his thumb into your clit roughly to regain your attention and you let out a sudden cry, returning your attention to him.
“Haechan, that’s sensitive!”
“Mm, too bad.” He mumbles, losing himself in the taste of you once more. “You said ‘Don’t stop,’ so I’m just giving you what you asked for.”
“That’s not what I meant—oh, shit, I’m gonna–” You gasp, and he sucks and licks determinedly at your clit, lapping his wide, thick tongue over the sensitive fleshy button over and over until you’re climaxing with a loud cry of Haechan’s name, your body trembling as you attempt to keep holding yourself up.
“That’s it,” Haechan mumbles, lost in his desires. When you attempt for a second time to get up, he practically snatches you down, nuzzling his nose between your folds to bump against your clit and make you jolt. “I could do this for hours.”
“Please don’t,” You beg, and Jaemin gestures for you to come to him where he lies beside Haechan, his cock hard against his stomach. You blanch at the realization that they expect you to come again, but there’s no time for dwelling on that, as Jaemin takes your hand and pulls you away from Haechan.
“Stop hogging her; you had your turn!” Jaemin grouches, gingerly lying you down on the bed and hovering on top of you. He kisses you slowly, gently nudging your legs apart to lie between them. He smiles against your lips when you moan softly, arching your back and pushing your chest into his. “Yeah? Is that where you want me?” He teases lightly, trailing wet kisses down your neck to your chest, pushing your shirt up over your chest again and leaning in so he can latch his lips onto your nipple, sucking and licking the bud as your eyelids flutter. “Mm, you’re so cute,” He mumbles fondly around your breast, sponging wet kisses from your left breast to your right, where he repeats his ministrations. In a daze from the sudden gentle treatment, you only manage to whimper quietly when he nudges your legs further apart.
“You’re being so nice to me,” You say tiredly through a smile, and Jaemin looks up at you with an amused grin from where he’s watching the head of his cock move along your folds, the tip glistening with a mix of your arousal, Haechan’s saliva, and Jeno’s and Haechan’s cum.
“Of course I am,” He replies simply, leaning up to press a quick kiss to your lips before you feel his cock pushing past your entrance. “Gotta treat the pretty girl like a princess before I fuck her like a doll, right?”
“Oh, shit,” You mutter, and he chuckles darkly before pushing himself all the way inside of you, groaning at the sensation of your walls wrapped tight around him.
“So fucking wet, fuck—I could slip right out,” He taunts, and all you can do is sniffle as he pulls out and snaps his hips back into yours. You ignore the screaming ache of your muscles as you wrap your legs around him, and he snickers derisively, looking down at you. “You don’t want that, do you, pretty baby?”
“No—” You start, but Jaemin covers your mouth with his hand, your lips pressed to his palm as he leans down to whisper in your ear.
“No, you don’t,” Jaemin coos. “You want me nice and deep in this pretty pussy, huh?” When you let out a muffled cry and nod, he kisses your cheek sweetly as he drives his hips into you. “You really do have such a pretty pussy, baby; can’t believe you let those two dolts play with it before me.” You turn to look at the other two males, but Jaemin stops you by clamping his hand down harder on your mouth and using his grip to keep your head in place. “Ah, ah, ah—focus on me. They’re not here right now. It’s just you and me right now, and I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby.”
“Jaemin–” You keen into his hand, canting your hips upwards to meet his thrusts, and he coos patronizingly at you, moving his hand away from your mouth and returning his attention to thrusting inside of you.
“Gonna fuck this greedy pussy so full of cum,” He groans, gripping your hips with an almost bruising tightness, and you stutter out a gasp, making Jaemin look down at you with a grin. “That’s what you are, right? Greedy?”
“Y-Yes,” You pant, and he smirks.
“Say it.”
“I’m greedy,” You all but wail as fresh tears spill down your cheeks.
“That’s right, pretty girl. You’re greedy, and this greedy little pussy just loves being full of cock, doesn’t it?”
“Y-Yes, it does!” You reply in a desperate attempt to make him have mercy on you. “Jaemin, I think I’m close–”
“Oh, yeah? What should you say when I let you cum?” He presses, and you sob, your bottom lip jutting out into a pout as you try to wrack your empty brain for the answer.
“Th-Thank you?” You try, and could just faint with relief when he shoots you a pleased grin.
“That’s it, baby,” Jaemin confirms proudly, and, as if rewarding you, reaches between you two to massage tight circles into your clit. “You gonna cream my cock? Two guys weren’t enough? You just needed three loads crammed in this tight fucking pussy, huh? It’s okay, princess; Nana’s got a nice, big load for you.” Jaemin grunts, his words punctuated with his thrusts, and the sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, your cries of pleasure only getting louder and more desperate as your climax approaches.
“Fill me, Jaemin,” You beg breathlessly, nails clawing at his back as your peak hits and your eyes slide shut in ecstasy, practically sobbing, “Thank you,” as your vision gets spotty. He hisses in a mix of pain and pleasure and speeds up to an almost brutal pace before letting out a loud moan and burying himself in you entirely, pumping his release into you. He stays inside of you for a couple moments longer, his length twitching as your walls clench and flex around him, before slowly pulling out of you and sitting back to watch as his cum slowly drips from your entrance.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” He pants, and you can’t even bring yourself to respond yet, your chest still heaving from your own climax. He collapses on top of you unceremoniously, sending an “Oof!” whooshing out of your lungs before chuckling out an apology and wiggling himself between you and Haechan, much to the latter’s dismay.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” You say with a surprised laugh, and Haechan stops glaring at Jaemin to shrug, sporting a mischievous little grin.
“I figure it was just a matter of time.” He muses, and Jeno mutters something that sounds like an agreement, shuffling closer to you and pressing his face between your neck and shoulder. Jaemin mirrors Jeno’s actions on your other side, slinging his arm over you and pulling you closer to him. When Haechan starts to protest, Jaemin shushes him abruptly.
“You got to hook up with her three times; you can handle not lying next to her.”
“But-”
“You can cuddle Jeno.” Jaemin finishes, and, on cue, Jeno lifts his arm up to accept Haechan’s attempt to hold him. Haechan huffs and puffs and moans and groans but ultimately climbs over you, Jaemin, and Jeno (ignoring everyone’s protests) and settles in beside Jeno, snuggling up to the larger male with a small sigh.
“Not like I wanted to cuddle her or anything,” Haechan mutters bitterly from beside Jeno, and you tut sympathetically.
“I’m sorry, Haechan,” You say sincerely, reaching over Jaemin somewhat awkwardly and finding Haechan’s hand to squeeze it gently. He squeezes back and laces his fingers with yours, giving you the impression that he’s not letting go anytime soon. “You guys do know we have to be dressed and not-suspicious by tomorrow morning, right? Mark and Chaewon are gonna be riding in probably by the afternoon, and they don’t need to know what happened here.” You sit up slightly to inform them, but Haechan groans in protest and pulls you back down, pressing his lips to your hand to dot lazy kisses along the skin.
“We know, just—let us relax for a bit?” Jeno muffles his response against your collarbone, his fingers tentatively lacing through the fingers on your free hand.
“Okay…” You mumble skeptically.
“Don’t worry, pretty,” Jaemin pipes up, accompanying his words with a reassuring squeeze of your hip. “What happened here will be our little secret.”
“Thanks,” You exhale in relief, and they all mumble variations of “you’re welcome” before your eyelids start to droop and you settle into your spot to drift off to sleep.
༄ i hope you enjoyed!! please leave feedback if you did!!
tips are appreciated!! VENMO | CASHAPP | KO-FI | WISHLIST
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Over the last week, I decided to go ahead with bookmarking all the fics I've recommended over the years on AO3 since I abide by tumblr poll results always (and man pour one out for all the fic that never made it to AO3 or has since been deleted, sooooo many gems lost to time!) and it was a bit more than the ~3,000 I was expecting:
Hopefully, this will be easier than browsing the hundreds of recs posts I've made, since you can filter for any of the author's tags now!
These are mostly focused on Star Wars and DC fandom, but I did my time in the anime mines and occasional tours through some TV fandoms or movies. You can dig into everything unfiltered and start your own filtering, or the bigger fandoms you'll find:
MAJOR FANDOMS:
Each of these should have 100+ at minimum and, in the case of Star Wars, literally almost half of them are in that fandom. Look, Star Wars fandom might be a trash fire in a lot of ways, but it is ON FIRE with some good fic. (Older bookmarks not guaranteed to match my current sentiments, especially re: the Jedi, but they did catch my fancy at that point in time!)
STAR WARS: - All Star Wars -OR- All Star Wars minus the Obi-Wan/Anakin ship - OR- Nothing BUT Obi-Wan/Anakin
BATMAN/DC: - DC can sometimes be tricky, but you can do a Batman* search and get most of them (though, sometimes Nightwing* or Young Justice* or Superman* will catch some of the others). Honestly, though, you might want to just do a search for what character or dynamic you like and have fun from there, because otherwise you're getting a face full of my Dick Grayson Is The Center Of The Universe And I'm Making That Everyone Else's Problem agenda. ;)
MARVEL/MCU: - Marvel* will probably get most of the various properties, though you may want to filter for Defenders* or Guardians of the Galaxy* if you're interested -OR- Marvel* without the Thor/Loki
- These focus a lot on the Thor* fandom if you want to witness the results of like 8 years of constant voracious reading in that fandom (Minus the ship), because, seriously, I read a LOT of Odinson family fic.
- Bonus, just do a search for Maximoff* to find some really good X-Men: First Class-verse because, listen, I have been ALL ABOUT the Maximoff twins since long before the movies or MCU brought them over and I will DIE ON THE HILL of "Marvel, make Magneto their bio-dad again or I'm never reading another comic of yours ever".
TOLKIEN/LORD OF THE RINGS/SILMARILLION/HOBBIT: - Tolkien* -OR- Hobbit* -OR- Lord of the Rings* searches will turn up most of my Elf-hunting, I primarily focus on the Sindar Elves, but look I can't resist my problematic Feanorian faves or that I will die on the hill that Fingolfin is the best ever. (You have NO IDEA how sad I am that so much fic on Stories of Arda or FFNET is not easily bookmarked on AO3, sob. I externally bookmarked a few of the bigger ones, but sooo many shorter faves are missing from my recs tag.)
CLAMP: - X/Tokyo Babylon legitimately bums me out because it's not a huge fandom and yet so much of what was written was pre-AO3 and lost when CLAMPesque went down or was never brought over from Livejournal, yet this fandom (well, the Seishirou/Subaru pairing) still burns brightly in my heart.
MINOR FANDOMS:
Ones that probably only have under 100 bookmarks (often around the 20-30 bookmarks range), but will at least give you a place to start!
ANIME/MANGA: Bleach | Cardcaptor Sakura | Dragonball | Finder no Hyouteki/Viewfinder | Katekyou Hitman Reborn! | Kuroko no Basuke | One Piece | Sailor Moon | Madoka Magica | Naruto | Princess Tutu | Trigun | Weiss Kreuz | Yuri!!! on Ice
BOOKS: Chrestomanci | Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint
DRAMAS: Nirvana in Fire | The Untamed -OR- Modao Zu Shi
TV SHOWS/MOVIES: Community | Game of Thrones -OR- ASOIAF | Good Omens | Hannibal | Highlander | The Old Guard | Our Flag Means Death | Stranger Things
VIDEO GAMES: Dragon Age: Inquisition | Final Fantasy 8 | Genshin Impact | Okami
BANDS: Arashi
All right, whew, that was actually a fun project, despite how much work it was to hunt down a lot of older faves to see if they were on AO3, hopefully you'll find this useful!
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heyyy I hope it's okay to send an ask! I just wanted to know about your art process, if you got any advise. Because I'm in love with your SH doodles, they're so dynamic and lively and the shading is such a nice accent yet it remains somewhat minimalistic? I'm relatively decent at realism but want to develop my own character in drawing more and I'm wondering how you arrived at yours, did you have a method? Thanks in advance^^
love to talk about DRAWING......
The short answer is that because I want to draw them a lot, and have limited time, I can't be too precious about how the final result looks! So a lack of perfectionism and a desire for speed ends up forcing me to simplify and stylize them. This was an organic process (if you scroll down my art tag you can see I was drawing them with a bit more detail, finish, and care a few months ago - I was illustrating vs what I'm doing now, cartooning).
Ideally when you are cartooning, every line of the character's face is doing work to make them THEM, and to tell a story. No unnecessary lines! I find that story is best expressed through eyes, eyebrows, and mouth (this might be different for you). Those features can and should change shape to express emotion. They are usually what I draw first, to figure out the emotion, and they're what I spend the most time tweaking.
The rest of the features - face shape, cheekbones, nose, forehead, ears, hairline - are less emotive, less 'plastic', they don't change shape much. These are doing work to make the character recognizable. I try to keep them simple and have a few simple rules that I can remember about each character.
(Watson is tricky because of his mustache! I've found that treating it as part of his mouth rather than a distinct piece works best, but even so it makes his face less emotive - which, honestly, works for the character, as he is less demonstrative than Holmes)
I'll usually do a simple underdrawing to figure out what the body is doing - trying to capture the energy of a pose and, again, thinking about what story the body is telling.
Then I 'ink' in the clothing, following the lines of the body and gravity. Victorian clothing is fun to draw, I find that the structure around the shoulders and neckline lends itself to expressive poses. I did a bunch of Victorian clothing studies a few months ago and felt like I built up a 'library' in my head so that I don't need to reference it every time.
Shading is incredibly minimal and quick. In really simple drawings, its purpose is usually to distinguish characters from the background. In more detailed ones, it's to give them a little dimension and focus the eye to the faces.
Every choice I make is in service of readability rather than beauty or accuracy, if that makes sense. So it is quite a different mindset than when you're drawing realistically or painting.
I hope this was helpful! I am a professional artist but whenever I get sucked into a fandom I find myself making leaps and bounds in my craft because I want to draw so MUCH and don't care about making it polished...truly shout out to hyperfixation for the gifts it brings
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roommates: part three.
your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)
pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader
tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure
prev. masterlist. next.
“Me?” the boy asks hesitantly, glancing toward his companion for help.
Niwa — right, that was his name — laughs, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder and pushing him forward. “You're scaring him, my dear.”
You roll your eyes at your friend, then give the boy another cursory once-over. You were right. He'd be perfect for the garment you were designing. Beckoning him over, you grin at him as you lead him into your fitting room. “I have just the thing for you! Let me take your measurements first, then I'll tailor the clothes to fit. Niwa, I'll give you a discount only because you brought this angel here.”
“Hah! You're the best.”
Shaking your head with a fond smile, you turn toward the boy. He looked nervous, fiddling with the hem of his sleeves, but no matter — it was time to get to work.
You blink, rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to clear your mind, trying to recall the dream you just had. Yet try as you might, it slips from your grasp, the faint trace of nostalgia slipping away with the breeze.
It was blue, you think.
And that's when inspiration struck.
"It's perfect,” you murmur, holding up the finished product in your hands.
A soft, silky shawl of blues and teals, dusted with a faint shimmer — an olive branch for your roommate, so to speak. Honestly, you were getting pretty tired of him wearing the same outfit almost daily, and what better gift than one handmade?
He'd look positively angelic in it, you think. You only hope he doesn't slam the door in your face before you could give it to him. You huff. He had better like it. You hadn't rushed your commission and put all that effort into the shawl for nothing. Not to mention, the materials you used were nothing but the highest of quality. Hmph.
“What do you want?” comes his gruff response to your knock on his door.
At the very least, he wasn't outright ignoring you like he used to do a week ago. You grin, even if he can't see it. "I have something for you! It's handmade. Come and take a look at it at least. Pretty please?”
It's silent.
A minute passes, then two.
You sigh, turning away in defeat. Another day, then. Though at this rate, that day might never come at all… Well, you hadn't put in all that effort just to give up now.
"I'll leave it here by the door,” you call. Just for good measure, you give the door another rap to be sure you still had his attention. "I don't care what you do with it as long as it's not still here by tomorrow morning. Have a good night!”
You turn away to leave, but this time, it's with a petty, stubborn resolve. One way or another, he would be your friend. He had to.
(His hands ghost over the shawl, fingers trembling.
It's soft, he notes, and every thread carefully woven. The design embroidered on its edges is undeniably Sumerian, but he can tell its maker is undeniably you.
And his heart thrums, loud in his ears and suffocating in his chest. It's infuriating.
This version of you is not the same as the version of the past he had known — that he cannot refute. Yet from your smile to your needlework, down to the way you'd leave him a warm bowl of soup — how could you not be one and the same?
He sets the shawl back down into the box it had come in, only to notice a piece of paper at its bottom.
This is for you, it reads. I think we got off on the wrong start that day, so I made this for you to make up for it. I hope you like it.
He scoffs, amused at your attempts to befriend him. It had worked on him then, when he had been clueless and naive and far too trusting, but fat chance it would work on him now. You don’t even remember him, for fuck's sake.
Still, he thinks, perhaps he should indulge you just the once. For old time's sake.)
taglist. (send an ask to be added.)
@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi
#—stellaronhvnters.#scaramouche x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#genshin#rlly laying it on thick there but anyway
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Hi people. I’ve been toying with the idea of writing a fanfic and I thought i’d put a feeler out there to see if people are interested in reading my silly little brain worms and thoughts. Word of warning, it’s little rusty and definitely still a work in progress. I don’t yet have a title or anything like that, but i wanna share (ok ok leave me alone)
Part one: Soft.
Reader described as plus-sized. Fem reader. Implied past abusive relationship.
John Price X Reader.
“Amelia, I said no!” I huff into the phone, getting increasingly frustrated at my best friend’s insistence. She had been going on and on about some big military party that her boyfriend was going to, and of course, because we’re basically attached at the hip, she ‘needs me there’.
“Oh, come onnnn! It’ll be fun! And who knows, we might finally find you a man for you to spend time with instead of you sitting in your apartment and watching reruns of gilmore girls twenty-four-seven.”
I huff and roll my eyes, grateful that she isn’t able to see me. Honestly, the thought of having to drag myself off of my couch and go through the motions of getting ready and attempting to doll myself up makes me feel physically ill. Truth be told, I haven’t left my apartment for weeks. Not since i had that god-awful night with my arsehole of an ex boyfriend.
My mind drifts back to that night, the time I spent getting ready and psyching myself up, all for me to get there and be completely disregarded and used. Like a piece of meat. He’d been blowing up my phone with messages ever since, insisting he was sorry, and that it won’t happen again, and he just got carried away. I hadn’t had the mental capacity to message him back.. My best friends voice pulls me back to reality.
“You’re coming. I’ll be at your flat in twenty minutes with pre drinks. Shower and shave.”
Before I get any chance to worm my way out of this ridiculous ordeal, she kisses me good-bye through the phone and hangs up. I throw my phone to the opposite end of the couch and groan into a pillow. Just when I was settled, watching gilmore girls for the umpteenth time, with a glass of wine and a bowl of crisps… Shit, maybe I do need to get out…
I down the rest of my glass of wine and wince at the taste. I make a mental note to stop being cheap and buying shit wine just because it’s cheaper. After all, it’s not like I can’t afford to buy nicer tasting wine. But truthfully, I don’t go to tescos at 8pm in my pyjamas and buy nice wine to be all sophisticated. I do it to buy cheap wine and get drunk while i watch gilmore girls and cry, wishing i had the same relationship with my mother that Lorelai and Rory have. It’s pitiful, and pathetic.
I huff and drag myself off of my couch and make my way into my bathroom to shower. Once undressed, i notice just how hairy my legs have gotten. But, is it really worth the effort, the sweating and red face just to have smooth legs? I brush off the thought and step into the hot shower. I do my usual: wash and condition my hair, wash my face and body, and then actually decide to shave my goddamn legs. It takes me the better part of fifteen minutes, but beauty is pain, as they say.
Just as i’m stepping out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel that’s all too small to cover my stomach and wide thighs, my best friend makes herself known, clearly having used her spare key to let herself into my flat. Her face is all scrunched up in disgust at the state of the place and she’s begun to pick up my clothes that are strewn about the place, throwing them into the washing machine. I roll my eyes and make my way into my bedroom, and she follows. She has that shit-eating grin on her face that I know all too well. No doubt she’s going to make me squeeze into some tiny outfit in the hopes i’ll impress some random man and hopefully let him fuck my brains out. She’s highly mistaken.
Instead of a skimpy outfit, we compromise. I end up wearing a mid-length silk dress that has a risky slit up the leg, but not too high that it shows off my cellulite, one of my biggest insecurities. She does up my hair into a messy bun with a few curls framing my face and insists on me wearing her favourite red lipstick, telling me i’ll look ‘fuckable’, her words, not mine. After strapping some heels onto my feet I take one last look in the mirror, face slightly flushed from the two or three glasses of wine Amelia practically poured down my throat to loosen me up. I should feel beautiful, but I don’t. I can’t help but feel like a pig, wrapped in silk and smothered in ridiculous lipstick. Ready to be taken off to market and ridiculed by men that think it’s shameful to like a fat girl. My ex-boyfriend’s attitude and words from the duration of our relationship echoing around my head.
“They don’t see you like I do, babe. They don’t see your personality.”
“You’re wearing that?”
“Oh come on, babe. I was only looking at her. She’s a model, what do you expect?”
After a too long uber ride full of pep-talks by Amelia and discreetly drinking from the remnants of a bottle of wine, we’re standing outside of what can only be described as a fucking mansion. The type that has stairs leading up to its entrance that’s held up by beautifully structured pillars, the type of place i write about in my short stories. There are too many windows to count, most of them lit up by subtle golden glow, the soft buzz of music that’s able to be heart from outside, something soft and jazzy, like the type of music you’d hear in an old jazz bar in New York.
I’m too busy marvelling at the ‘fucking mansion’ in front of me when I hear the recognisable voice of Amelia’s boyfriend, Johnny. Johnny is the type of guy that can make any girl weak in the knees with his charming smile and sparkling blue eyes. He’s sweet and cheeky, but not my type.
“There you two are! Was beginning ‘ter think ‘yaes got lost.”
I give Johnny a polite smile and continue looking up at the grandeur of the building in-front of me while he gives Amelia a kiss and whispers something flirty in her ear. Johnny and Amelia are solid, and he’s good for her. Plus, he knows we come as a package deal, so he makes sure to make me feel included when I end up tagging along on their days out or evening drinks.
“Looking good, bonnie.” Johnny says to me, with a cheeky wink. Amelia laughs, her signature sweet giggle, and it’s clear why she turns heads everywhere we go.
I force a smile and hold back a self-deprecating remark.
“Thanks, Johnny.”
Amelia takes Johnny by the arm and leads her inside, making me follow like an awkward third wheel. I try my best not to feel like an idiot as i’m led into the main ballroom, where i assume the party is being held. Johnny leads us to the bar and buys the three of us a round of drinks. I try to insist that I can buy my own, but both he and Amelia dismiss it and i’m left with a blueberry Martini sitting in front of me at the bar.
After a few minutes of awkward small talk between the three of us, mixed in with too much PDA between Johnny and Amelia for my liking, Johnny leads Amelia off to meet some of his friends, leaving me alone at the bar. I hoist myself onto a barstool, arse spilling over the edge. Fuck sake, I think. People need to start inventing barstools that are fat-girl friendly. I ignore the buzz of chatter in the ballroom and down the rest of my blueberry martini, flagging down the bartender for another one.
I begin sipping on the fresh Martini and start looking back around the room. I can’t help but think this would be a perfect scene to write in one of my stories. A room packed full of rich people dressed in fancy suits and expensive dresses, where everyone pretends to be on their best behaviour.
After a few minutes of being alone at the bar, I make peace with the fact that I will likely be alone for most of the night while Amelia mingles with Johnny and his friends. It doesn’t bother me, per say, but something deep within my belly wishes that one, just once, I could be the one to turn heads, to capture the attention of a group of people with nothing but my appearance and laugh, to have people willing to talk to me and learn about me, without feeling like it’s out of pity.
I shrug to myself and take a few more sips of my martini and let my attention wander over to my best friend and her boyfriend, and his group of (presumably) military friends. Johnny must’ve noticed me sitting alone at the bar and felt pity for me because I see him making his way over, sporting his disarming smile. I smile back.
“What’s the matter, Lass? Not enjoying ‘yerself?”
He leans on the bar casually, and it’s clear he’s making an effort to make me feel included.
“I’m enjoying myself just fine, Johnny. You can go back to your mates and Amelia, don’t worry about me.”
He cocks a brow and flashes that cheeky grin.
“Not gonna join us?”
I shake my head and take another sip of my martini, waving a dismissive hand. I attempt to play it off with a joke.
“Doubt i’d fit in with your military mates.”
He scoffs and looks jokingly offended.
“Aye, come on, Bonnie. We don’t bite. I know Si looks like a scary fucker, but we’re a nice bunch. I swear.”
I laugh and take another sip. Johnny is a good guy, there’s no denying that, even if it does feel like he’s taking pity on his girlfriends fat, single friend that looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here.
Judging from the way he talks about ‘Si’, I make an assumption that he’s the one with the dirty-blonde hair, the one who’s built like a brick shit-house and looks like he could snap anyone in half with one hand.
Johnny points to one of the other lads, a typical pretty boy with striking brown eyes.
“That’s Gaz. He’s a good’un. Likes to flirt too much, but e’s harmless.”
I follow Johnny’s finger as he points to the third man. A man who’s wide, and fucking muscly, but looks like he has a soft layer of fat underneath that expensive suit of his.
“And that, that’s the Cap’n. The best of us all. Keeps us in check when we cause trouble. He won’t admit it, but he’s a softie at heart.”
My eyes stay on the wide man a little longer than the others. I see a smile under his well-groomed mutton chops and moustache that’s peppered with little greys here and there. His shoulders look like they’re about to burst out of his shirt at any given moment, and his hips are exactly the same. That’s all contrasted by his blue eyes, like a deep pool that women no doubt get lost in. The man’s a fucking contradiction. Too wide, Too soft.
Johnny’s voice snaps me back into the room, averting my eyes away from the man I know as ‘Captain’.
“Come on, Bonnie. Come say hello, mingle a little. We don’t bite.”
#call of duty#john soap mactavish#john price#john price x reader#self indulgent#modern warfare#fem reader#plus sized reader
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AUGUST.
Glimpses of the departed month go by as you reminisce by the sea.
ft. Kaedehara Kazuha x gn! reader.
cw/genre: fluff, romance.
I honestly don’t know how to feel about this piece… definitely not my best work, but I wrote it, so I’m posting it. I hope someone still likes it.
if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !
Blue.
Said alone, the word might have had a tendency for melancholy, cold, turbulence.
However, if anyone were to ask you right now, you’d deny every negative connotation the color might have ever been related to.
Because to you, blue was dusks by the sea; moments right after the last coppery rays had hidden behind the expanse of an ocean you could only wish to unveil all secrets of.
And perhaps, you liked this moment of day because the infinity of blue before you mirrored the feelings in your heart at ease.
Feelings of unbridled affection, boundless love.
For him.
Fair hair falls over his shoulders, like silk weaved out of stars, its tips illusory rose with the fading daylight. His eyes are closed against the marine breeze, flecks of moondust clinging to his lids, casting enchanting shadows over his cheeks. His shirt has been discarded, droplets sliding down his bare torso, as if he had bathed in a pool of starlight. A black leather cord rests against his tempting collarbones, a vibrant scarlet maple leaf charm dangling tantalizingly over his chest.
A dreamy sigh escapes your lips, mingling with the sounds of foamy waves lapping at the white sand.
Kazuha.
He was always nothing short of ethereal, but something about him in the dimming light of a late summer’s nightfall, felt inherently magical.
“I’m going to miss this, Kazuha.” You finally say, resting your chin on your boyfriend’s shoulder.
He gently leaves a kiss to your forehead, his hand finding yours over the towel you’re sitting on. Scars jut like jagged rocks against which waves break, in the same way lightning snuffed out a life dear to him all that time ago.
And yet, the smile on his lips is almost palpable when he says:
“We’ll be able to come back, my dove.” His thumb runs soothing circles over the back of your hand. “Before we realize, summer will greet us again.”
You chuckle. Kazuha had such a poetic way of approaching things; even when the sun went pitch black, he would forever remain a beacon of hope to you.
“I know, I know…” You clarify. “It’s just… I wish I had more free time to spend with you like this during the year…”
As much as autumn brought found memories and your beloved’s birthday, September always had a tendency to leave you yearning for the long days of summer.
Echoes of August replayed behind your eyelids every time you closed them, reminiscent of stolen instances held in the brief minutes in which the sky was dyed in shades of neither day or night.
Those eyes that held the suns of a million dawns focus on you. Starlight from constellations that will sleep soon seem to frame them, those long lashes fluttering in tune with your heart.
“I know, my angel…” Your lover utters, as he delicately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’d like to stay with you like this, for all eternity…” His stare of gentle embers takes you in.
His muse, his perfect love, his forever.
The samurai’s free hand reaches to cup your cheek, his touch, a dove’s first flight in its tenderness.
Beneath the darkening skies, you were the brightest star. Every lash, every pore and freckle, the everglow that fueled his verses.
“But we’ll always have the weekends,” He reassures, those fingers that penned the most romantic eulogies tracing your jawline, the column of your neck, your exposed collarbones.
Dilated pupils stare at his lips, images of kisses coated in ice cream and cocktails flashing through your dazed mind.
“And every summer after that.” The poet adds, noses mere millimeters away now, separated only by salt air and dying sunlight’s rust.
“Every summer.” You repeat.
Then, the magnetic force of both your desire-ridden lips reigns over, his kiss, an intoxicating collision.
Your hands lock behind Kazuha’s neck, pulling him closer. The droplets of sea water on him feel cool, flecks of stardust tattooing your skin in every place your bodies touch.
The wandering samurai’s lips are an expanding sunrise, and you, the tsunami that desperately reaches for his light-tinted heavens.
One of his hands sets on the soft sand, keeping him upright, while his scarred one tenderly cups your cheek. Your lean against him is soothing, healing, clear August skies, birdsong written in between retreating clouds.
Behind the undulating horizon, gold dyes silver.
Constellations begin to waltz far above, the lovers by the sea, their directing lyrics.
It’s a symphony about a season that will never die, its score inscribed in indelible blue ink in the heat of yours and Kazuha’s fervent kisses.
#astronetwrk#genshin impact x reader#kazuha x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact x you#kaedehara kazuha x reader#kazuha x y/n#kazuha x you#kaedehara kazuha x you#kazuha x reader fluff#kazuha fluff#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact fanfics#kazuha imagines#genshin impact scenarios#genshin x reader#genshin x reader fluff#kazuha scenarios#genshin fluff#genshin impact oneshots#kazuha fanfic#kaedehara kazuha#kazuha#kazuha genshin x reader#kazuha genshin impact#genshin impact
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