#so like to stop feeling like a bother I’ve simply stopped bothering
Note
You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?
This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.
Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.
I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.
I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?
I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."
For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.
(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )
But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.
There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?
Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.
If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.
(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)
Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.
For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:
That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)
Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.
Talk about this shit
Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.
Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."
Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.
Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.
Reduce friction for cleaning
Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:
Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.
Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)
Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).
This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:
Create Dump Zones
One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.
We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.
HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.
A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.
Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."
I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.
AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:
Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)
Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.
Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.
To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.
Landing Zones
Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.
To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.
I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.
Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.
Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.
Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).
People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.
If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.
It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.
It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?
IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?
anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.
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gonna be blunt and just say that people make me feel like I’m not worth any effort or that I’m just a joke and I’m really sick of it
#whimsy whispers#I usually just say this in tags but why not just make an upfront post about it#y’all make me feel ignored or like I’m not worth speaking to#even if I did say something about it it wouldn’t change anything#it’s so many people and it’s all the time and I just am tired of it I don’t even want to talk or try anymore#im like literally better off talking to my stuffed animals or the cats#at least I know that they don’t reply because they can’t#I feel like a lame joke#so like to stop feeling like a bother I’ve simply stopped bothering#the only people I really talk to anymore are people who talk to me first#and not even in a ‘I’ll only take if spoken to first’ thing anymore like#even if people were to talk to me now at this point I don’t know if I’d trust anyone actually cares or if they just saw my post and assumed#it was about them#which probably it is! but like that’s not the point#I don’t want people to talk to me because they see my post venting about this shit#I just want people to actually give a shit I don’t want to put energy into a friendship that feels like it’s useless to other people#I don’t want to talk to someone or a group of people that just ignores everything I say#so like yeah yay I’m sorry so many posts are on this topic it’s just an all the time kind of feeling and it’s not something I can just get#over#like how do you get over feeling like the majority of the people you think of as friends don’t even want you in their lives?#I don’t even know what to do to make myself worth peoples time#I don’t complain to people if i can help it anymore because I know that’s annoying and that people probs dislike me because I’m always sad#I try talking more and nothing improves I try talking less and nothing improves#it just feels like maybe people would be better off if I stopped trying#i don’t even feel like my best friend wants me in their life anymore or like my roommate(s) even like me#much less any of my other friends#im just tired of it all I just want to feel/be liked and loved ig#and I’m sorry to like place blame on people I always feel bad for feeling how I do because I want to believe no one actually feels this way#about me or makes me feel this way on purpose and don’t want to paint people as bad friends because they’re not I just like don’t know how#to deal or do better to be liked ig. anyways this is the last tag cause i hit the limit lol
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ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF
ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET
CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.
SPECIFY muse for multimuses.
“ Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”
“ Hungry? Eat the government. ”
“ Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”
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“ Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”
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“ Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”
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“ No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”
“ I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”
“ Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”
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“ Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”
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“ Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”
“ Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”
“ I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”
“ If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”
“ Everything I want to do is illegal. ”
“ Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”
“ I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”
“ Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”
#askbox meme#askbox prompt#rp ask meme#ask box#roleplay sentence meme#sentence starters#roleplay prompts#roleplay sentence starters#* sentence meme
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Hi! Hi! Sorry for asking, mind if I ask if you are open request for the hc or fic? Since I have a brilliant idea, about Bi-han and bi-han s/o.
"They fell first, they fell harder but he never fell. He fell too late until he realized he's late for apologize."
I’ll answer this in headcanons and a little drabble just because I’ve been cranking out fics like crazy so I need something else to switch it up. This is kind of long ngl but I couldn't help it. Might have some spelling errors.
Reader gets referred to as a woman and such, so fem. reader.
Bi-Han x Reader; Raiden x Reader
If you are married to Bi-Han for your clans sake, he sees your marriage as a business ordeal.
To him, he is not romantically interested because he only married you for clan purposes. He does not love you.
That is the sad truth and truly it bothers you.
A marriage was supposed to be based around love and support, not business.
However Bi-Han saw it differently.
There is not many interactions between you two. He stays away and you stay out of his way.
You eat dinner together but there is not much conversation. Sometimes he will talk about certain events, but he will never really ask about your day.
If he does, he is just curious to know what you have done while he’s been tending to his duties.
There is nothing special about the bed time routine.
He will stay on his side of the bed and sleep with his back turned to you.
The nights can feel really lonely and make you really sad.
Sometimes he will lower the temperature of the bed so it doesn’t get too hot.
To keep you somewhat comfortable.
But what you truly crave is the touch of the man you married.
Although Bi-Han is standoffish and not exactly the most welcoming, you have still fallen in love with him.
Every imperfection of Bi-Han is just an extra part of him to love.
He sees it in your eyes when he catches your gaze, and honestly it strokes his big ass ego that you are in love with him.
He cannot say the same for you, though. :(
You like to do special things for him to get his attention and appreciation.
Such as cooking his favorite meals, preparing his uniforms, even going as far as stitching together his ruined ones.
He appreciates it, he may not exactly show it but he does, however he feels that you are simply doing this to make him love you.
So it can kind of annoy him.
You try to show him some sorts of affection, but Bi-Han will only really allow kisses. He will reject hugs often.
It hurts but at least you can still show him some affection.
Kuai Liang and Tomas both see how much you love Bi-Han, but they see that look in their brother’s eyes.
Void of any infatuation of you, let alone romance.
They will comfort you when you feel unloved and uncared for.
Tomas wishes the circumstances were different for you, but he tells you that maybe one day Bi-Han will realize that he does love you.
Kuai Liang shoots him a look that says ‘don’t give her hope’.
They don’t want you to be hurt or to hold onto Bi-Han in hopes of him returning the same feelings.
Kuai Liang and Tomas took you out to eat dinner at Madame Bo's which is where you met some of their friends. It was Johnny, Raiden, Kung Lao, and Kenshi.
They were interested in you as you were a new face, and Kuai Liang introduced you as the Grandmaster's wife. Johnny thinks that you are too stunning for grouchy old Bi-Han.
"You are married to Bi-Han?" Johnny asks in almost complete shock. "I didn't even know he was married. How did he get so lucky with a pretty woman like you?"
Blushing at his words, you just smile. Kung Lao rolls his eyes. "Stop flirting with the Grandmaster's wife, otherwise your head will end up on a ice pick."
"It will all be worth it in the end." Johnny replies with a small wink at you. Kenshi chuckles quietly.
Kuai Liang notices how Raiden looks at you, his mouth slightly agape at your beautiful form. He thinks it is a little funny but also sweet. He almost wished Bi-Han would do the same for you. He sees Raiden's eyes travel down to take you in completely, wearing blue and black to match Bi-Han's uniforms. Matching with Bi-Han who hardly ever took you out.
Tomas is a little oblivious to it, he doesn't see it at first until Kuai Liang points it out. You and Raiden strike up a conversation, and the Thunder God is fumbling over his words. He has a serious blush on his cheeks, and Kung Lao almost feels bad for the inexperienced Raiden. You, however, think it's very cute. You relish in the attention he gives you because Bi-Han hardly ever paid any mind to you. It makes you feel good, it makes you feel wanted.
There is some guilt that gnaws at you though. Almost as if you are doing something bad behind Bi-Han's back, but his siblings were sitting a couple feet away from you, so it wasn't bad right? By the end of the night, Raiden has fallen head over heels for your kind, compassionate personality. Just like Johnny, he wondered what Bi-Han did to deserve such a sweetheart like you. He feels disappointed when it is time for you to leave with the brothers. The moment you leave, everyone is grilling him.
"You made it super obvious that you are interested, Raiden." Kenshi states humorously. "I could hear your heart race from here."
Raiden internally groans. "Was it really that obvious?"
"Totally Thunder Lad. But she was enjoying the attention." Johnny grinned mischeviously. "I don't think Bi-Han is exactly taking care of her."
"It's Bi-Han, he probably treats his wife like she's a warrior." Kung Lao said as he took a sip of his tea.
You are on Raiden's mind at every possible moment after he first meets you. He seriously could not wait to see you again even though he felt like it was wrong. You were married to another man, but you were too good for him.
Kuai Liang and Tomas discuss that night in their chambers about how Raiden was acting.
They honestly think it was cute to see you both interacting with each other. they thought of puppy love when they saw you together.
But they knew it was good to be wary because of Bi-Han. He may not have loved you, but you were still his wife.
Bi-Han asks you how your night was with his brothers. He sees that dazed look in your eyes and wonders what happened.
You just tell him you met their friends. Bi-Han just nods his head and tells you that he is glad that you had a good time. But he is wondering why you seem much more giddier.
It feels so wrong, but you continue to think about Raiden. When you make dinners for Bi-Han or do little tasks, you pretend that you are doing them for Raiden.
To get the look of approval and love that Bi-Han never shared with you.
Kuai and Tomas wonder if it is better to have you separate from Bi-Han. Although the word of divorce would not be a good look, it is better than possibly committing adultery.
Then they wonder if Bi-Han will willingly let you go.
They try to bring it up to him in different ways and Bi-Han never really catches on.
Until one day, Kuai Liang brings it up outright and Bi-Han is a little taken aback.
But Bi-Han thinks about it. Although he shared a life with you, you were not exactly in it.
Impulsively, he decides. Might as well break it off now, and he negotiates another deal with your old clan.
When he broke the news, you felt your heart break. Even though you were starting to think about Raiden, your heart was still with Bi-Han.
Kuai and Tomas felt horrible when they saw how awful you felt, but they knew it would work out for you in the end. It was better this way, they were convinced.
You moved back with your clan, and you thought that Kuai and Tomas would stop taking you out, but they did not. They still kept in touch with you often. They never brought up Bi-Han or talked about him out of respect for you.
The other Earthrealmers heard about your split from Bi-Han and they knew it would not last too long.
Raiden felt liable for your divorce, but part of him was joyous. Without Bi-Han in the picture, he had a chance.
Kuai and Tomas took you out again to Madame Bo's when you felt like you were ready.
Raiden is in awe of how free and wonderful you look. It was as if you had gotten more stunning after your relationship with Bi-Han ended.
Seeing Raiden makes your heart flutter and you immediately sit by him.
Johnny makes a comment about how the Lin Kuei colors were not fitting for you and you laugh.
Raiden feels himself start to get flustered when you two interact. You both are much more handsy but in innocent ways.
Kung Lao cannot help that stupid grin on his face and he gives Raiden a look. Raiden rolls his eyes.
As the night continues, you and Raiden are in your own world.
When it is time to leave, Raiden walks you home. You get the courage to tell him that you are interested in him, but you feel that it is too soon to get into another relationship.
He completely understands, and he takes your hands and tells you that he would wait an eternity to be with such a wonderful woman like you.
You become flustered and both say goodbye. He cannot help but smile like a madman when he is walking back.
When it is time, Raiden is so thrilled. He feels honored to be with someone similar to him.
Your heart swells with love when you see Raiden. He makes you feel much more appreciated and adored than Bi-Han had ever done.
Kuai and Tomas congratulate you both on your new relationship. They are happy for you, and it is good to see you in a happy, equal relationship.
However, Bi-Han was troubled. He did not notice it at first, and it did not hit him right away until more time passed. His chambers were empty, there were no more warm meals from you, he had to be treated in med bay for his wounds instead of you taking care of him, his uniforms were never patched up, he never got to wake up to you next to him. The Arctika felt lonely without your presence. He ate dinner with his brothers, but the empty spot next to him made him long for you.
He did not realize how much of a difference you made in his life. With your sweet kisses that you pressed to his face or his lips or the loving gaze you had when you crossed paths with him.
His moods faltered. He really started to miss you, and his brothers could see that he was struggling. They felt culpable because they convinced him to divorce, but it was for your own good. Deep down, they both knew you deserved better than Bi-Han. And you did get better, you had Raiden.
The brothers were able to convince Bi-Han to go out for dinner. Just the three of them. Bi-Han surprisingly agreed, but he still felt melancholy. It upset him that his wife could not go with them. So he was in a sour mood when they arrived.
Raiden always took you out no matter what, he loved being with you and showing you off. His friends were overjoyed that you both were a couple now. Kung Lao always teased you both. But truly, they were happy.
Sitting at the table with the men, your eyes were met with cold, hurting brown eyes. Your breath slightly hitched as Bi-Han watched Raiden's arm snake around your waist while he was talking. His eyes narrowed and his face was screwed up in displeasure. Seeing Raiden touch you in intimate ways made Bi-Han clench his jaw as he furiously watched as Raiden held your hand with his free one. It should have been Bi-Han holding you. It should have been him next to you. You should have been with him tonight, not Raiden.
But Bi-Han saw how happy you looked with him. He saw you show emotions that he never saw from you when you were with him. It made him regretful. He should have been better with you.
He turned his eyes away from you and stared at the table. Tomas and Kuai Liang both felt the miserable energy radiating from Bi-Han. He was too late to change things. You were happy with someone else. And that was final. He could not change a thing about it. Although he badly wanted to grab you and take you back to the Arctika, he could not bring himself to move. You were not his.
#mk1#mk 1#mk1 2023#mk1 bi han#mk bi han#mk1 kuai liang#mk kuai liang#mk1 tomas vrbada#mk tomas vrbada#mk sub zero#mk scorpion#mk smoke#mk1 raiden#mk raiden#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat#bi han sub zero#bi han x reader#raiden x reader
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mrs all american * archived.
who is that guy in the andretti racing garage?
pairings: bother figures x fem!driver, 4lyfers x fem!driver
notes: lOLSIE OXOXOXOOXOOXOXO tell me if u want their smau too?? hehehehe
(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)
alex tilts his head, approaching his friends gathered right behind a crowd that’s formed in front of one of the racing hospitalities in the paddocks. “what are we doing here?”
“same sentiments,” george mutters, craning his neck to try and look over heads to see what’s all the commotion about. him and lando had been having a chat while walking in from lunch when they were greeted by a large crowd gathered and chatter filling up the air. “we’re just as curious as you.”
“but you lot were here first?” alex asks, scrunching his nose again, looking between his friends. “did andretti manage to score some big name or something for the weekend?”
“brad pitt, you reckon?” lando asks, raising his eyebrows. “nah, i don’t think so. has to be someone else.”
“maybe it’s just rocky causing terror to everyone again.”
george and lando exchange a stare and ultimately shrug with a nod. it’s not entirely impossible that it’s not the brand’s own driver who’s gathered a big crowd to watch her do something stupid.
“hey, why are there so many damn people? i just wanna take a nap before the parade.” the 3 turn around, shocked at the presence that’s announced itself behind them. the andretti racing driver stands in front of them, hands on the straps of her backpack as she looks at them curiously. they furrow their eyebrows. “what?”
“you’re not the one that’s causing all the commotion?” george tilts his head, pointing at the crowd of cameras and paparazzi behind them.
she shrugs. “i guess not. what’s going on?”
alex sighs, widening his eyes. “we have got no idea. we’re just nosey,” he takes a sip from his drink, “will you tell us when you find out later?”
she shrugs nonchalantly with a small smile. “sure. i’ll see you lads later for the parade.”
“are you hiding someone from me?” the girl, who’s just walked into the pitlane to head to the grid for the driver’s parade takes a step back with a clueless blink. “max keeps pestering me about the guest for tonight.”
she shrugs, eyebrows furrowed. “why do you just assume i always know more than you?”
liam shrugs as well, frowning. “i don’t know. there’s just so much commotion on our side of the paddocks today and i’ve got no clue as to why,” liam says with a frown.
realistically, she feels bad lying straight through her teeth to everyone. but she doesn’t need anyone messing with her when the truth happens to come out before the race starts. it’s just not something she thinks she needs.
besides, everybody will find out after the race. she will just explain herself then.
“i’ve got no idea what’s going on with our garage today,” she takes a sip from her pepsi, blinking at liam innocently. “guess we’ll find out later?”
“find what out?” oscar tilts his head as they come to a stop right by him and lando, waiting for the truck to start their lap around the track.
“why we’ve been so crowded with paps today,” liam frowns. “i’m not the centre of attention and it’s simply absurd.”
lando sighs, shaking his head. “i know. i’ve barely seen a camera pointed my way today and it’s our grand prix race. something is not right.”
she shrugs with a small grin. “someone kinda famous, i guess.”
“it’s not jacob elordi again, is it?” carlos pokes his head between lando’s and hers, furrowing his eyebrows. he turns to her, met with an unamused stare and head tilt. he shrugs. “just curious. who knows if you’re seeing him again?”
she looks around their huddle, suddenly greeted by curious stares and raised eyebrows. she throws her arms in the air and shakes her head. “i’m not seeing jacob again! i haven’t seen him since the miami race last year! please let it go!”
alex narrows his eyes down with a small smirk. “you sound like you know something about andretti’s special guest.”
“you liar!” liam screams.
“i don’t!” she turns to liam with her arms in the air. she turns to alex and scowls. “why are you stirring drama? i don’t know anything about who andretti’s decided to give their stupid pass to this weekend, okay?”
alex hums, pressing his lips together. “that’s not what logan told me.”
“why would logan know anything about andretti’s guest this weekend? i’ve barely seen him.”
he shrugs, “i really thought that would break you.”
“nice try,” oscar sighs, shaking his head. “you really don’t know anything?”
she shakes her head. “i really don’t. now can we please talk about something else?”
“i’ll see you later after the race?” a soft, familiar, higher-pitched voice says. “don’t forget to watch me, okay? remember: i’m in the andretti car. don’t watch the red bulls or the ferraris, just me. you’re here for me.”
liam presses his ear against the door as if he could somehow make out who’s speaking to whom inside the room.
you can only imagine his shock when he hears a man’s voice from the other side of the door. “suddenly i’m an andretti supporter. i don’t even like ferrari.”
he hears her laugh, followed by footsteps approaching the door. “i’ll see you later, my. love you.”
the door clicks, prompting liam to hurl himself towards the stairs leading downstairs, stumbling and sliding down a couple of steps. liam pulls himself up with the railing, trying to ignore the way he can hear the confusion as the door closes.
“what are you doing?”
liam hops up to his feet, one of his foot sliding off at the edge of the steps. he coughs to cover it up and shakes his head. “i’m just super excited to be racing in vegas.”
she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “are you sure? is something wrong?”
he shakes his head. “nope. nothing.”
perhaps she will break the news to him after the race? he doesn’t think he’s ever heard her say that phrase to anyone, much less know anyone called ‘my’.
“you don’t have anything to ask me?” she bites down on her lip, trying to keep the laugh in.
truthfully, she had heard the door rattle a couple of times and assumed that liam was being nosey outside her driver’s room. she’s more surprised that her teammate is not probing her for a more defined answer other than a shrug.
“i guess,” liam shrugs dejectedly.
he just wants her to tell him instead of having to ask her outright.
“alright, mate,” she laughs, furrowing her eyebrows. “by the way, you’re coming for ice cream tonight, right? i’ve got someone i want you to meet.”
another podium finish. it’s absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she’s got a special guest in her garage watching, the car was just good.
she knows that because liam’s finished directly behind her. she would have given him the podium if sebastian hadn’t insisted that there’s jo driver swap necessary and that it would only be riskier to do so.
she climbs out of the car, eyes crinkled towards the team gathered behind the barriers for her. she tears all of her headgear off and immediately runs forward to where her team is gathered.
“amazing!” sebastian screams, arms wide open as she approaches them. “good job, kid!”
she screeches, hopping over to where they are with her fists in the air. “i know! i literally love vegas! year after year, all vegas gives me is bangers!”
she jumps into sebastian’s arms, cheering along with her team of mechanics with their arms wrapped around her as well. “yay! another podium for me! suck it, oscar!”
“oscar catching strays,” liam mutters, tapping her on the shoulder and holding his arms out to her. throwing his arms around her, he sighs exasperatedly while a smile. “i know you had someone in your room earlier.”
“i know. you rattled the door with all your moving,” she whispers back before pulling away. she drops her head slightly as a blush slowly creeps up her cheeks. “i’m seeing somebody.”
“i also know that,” liam grins, a hand still on the small of her back. “do i get to meet him?”
“obviously. do you know how difficult it’s been to keep him out of your sight all day?” she snorts, rolling her eyes. “i promise you’ll get to meet him.”
“if i didn’t know you were a good driver, i’d have thought you made it to the podium just to impress me.”
“it’s just luck, i guess.” she grins giddily leaning in as he holds both hands up, grabbing her cheeks. “thanks for coming to watch my race.”
“absolutely. thank you so much for inviting me over.”
she scrunches her nose, hands lifted slightly behind her as she leans in with puckered lips. she’s turning 22 in a couple of weeks and the fact that this is her first public relationship ever is still new to her.
truthfully, she wasn’t even planning on dating any time soon. she’s gone 5 years — almost her entire life — not finding herself with a boyfriend, what harm would it do if she went on longer without one?
but she coincidentally found herself laughing a little too hard at his jokes and now here she is, lip locked in her garage with some guy she swore annoyed her.
“ew!”
“fuck off!” she says immediately, pulling away and whirling around with red cheeks. her hair is dishevelled, stray hairs on her face and cheeks getting redder by the second. “what are you, 12?”
max raises his eyebrows with an amused smile stretching his lips. he tilts his head to the side and ignores the driver in front of him. “who’s this? i’m max,” he holds his arm out, “i can fight.”
“max!” she shrieks, pushing max’s arm away before it can be grabbed cordially. “what is wrong with you? that’s not how you introduce yourself!”
but as she’s preoccupied with max, to her horror, she’s turned back around and the other 3 have already surrounded the poor boy with furrowed eyebrows and questions spilling on their lips.
who are you, where do you live, what’s your intentions with rocky, how long have you known her? and this is exactly why she hesitated even bringing him to the race to watch her.
“hey, what are you doing? stop doing that!” she cries, running back around to try and shoo off alex, george and lando who have well invaded her boyfriend’s personal space. before she can take 3 steps away, max grabs her shoulder and yanks her back toward him to hold her in place. “you guys are embarrassing me! you’re worse than my siblings!”
“oh, you’ve met her siblings!” alex cheers for a moment before wiping the smile from his face. “so? what are they gonna do to protect you? they’re so much younger.”
“hey! those are my sisters and brother you’re talking about!”
“ah, you get what i mean,” alex waves her off, snorting softly. he returns his attention to the boy with a small amused grin. “so? you plan on answering our questions, mate? we’ll be here all night if you don’t.”
the brunette grins. “i’m milo manheim, i’m an actor. i’m,” a blush creeps up his cheek as he bites back a smile and points over at the girl still in her race suit, “she’s my girlfriend.”
“girlfriend?” lando screams incredulously, throwing his head back in disbelief. he turns to the girl and points at milo. “you found yourself a boyfriend? did you use our advice?”
she stares at them, blinking with a toothy and fearful grin. “why… would i use your shit advice?”
“hey, what are you– oh, hey! you look–” oscar cuts himself off with a loud laugh before turning to his best friend, “oh, you little sneaky shit! no wonder you’ve been keeping your mouth shut the entire evening! it’s the guy you h–“
“guys!” she throws her arms in the air. “give me a break, please! at least let me sp–”
“how long have you guys been dating?”
“dating?” oscar asks loudly, blinking rapidly. all this is new to him. she’s always been pretty secretive and private about her dating life, so it’s not a shock that everything is only unveiling now for her.
“have you made her cry yet? every tear is one punch i get to throw without you running off to the media crying about it, kid,” max says firmly, shoving her aside so that he could take a step forward towards milo.
“max! he has not–”
the younger boy grins and puffs his chest proudly. “of course not! we’ve been going out for a couple of months, around 5 or 6?”
“wow!” george cheers, turning to her in amusement. “that’s long! you kept a secret that long?”
she shrugs. “lily knew.”
“lily knew?” oscar screams, arm darting out to punch her shoulder. “why didn’t you tell me?”
“because then you’d tell logan and lando, and then it wouldn’t be a secret anymore,” she explains, throwing her arms in the air with a knowing stare. “i don’t see the problem, really. mick knew too.”
“mick found out before me?” george shouts. “unfair!”
she shrugs again. “he saw us at the hotel lobby last night.”
“why are there so many people in my garage?” sebastian walks in, tapping his phone against his palm. “hi, milo.” he looks at the crowd of excess drivers in his garage and lifts his hands in the air to continue his interrogation. “anyone plan on answering me?”
“we’re having a meeting,” lando answers, not even sparing the older man a glance. he keeps his stare on milo. “so how did you meet?”
“we met at the eras tour in the private tent!” oscar cuts in with an amused stare. he blinks. “i gotta find logan and tell him.”
“tell me what?”
she throws her arms in the air. “did you guys agree to come to my garage after my podium just to piss me off or something?” she shouts, hands balled into fists and she stomps a foot into the ground. “what is everyone doing here? why are we having a gathering?”
“i was gonna congratulate you on the podium,” logan mutters. he trails off as he meets the familiar pair of brown eyes, the only person in their makeshift circle not in a race suit, and tilts his head. “what are you doing here? don’t i know you from somewhere?”
a silence falls in the garage, the chatter from outside the only thing that anyone can hear. max and alex share a look, then glances over at george who lifts his eyebrows with a shrug.
milo blinks. “i’m–“
“rocky’s boyfriend!” lando cheers, holding milo’s shoulder and pointing excitedly at the young boy next to him. “you didn’t know?”
“nobody knew,” she grins, explaining through gritted teeth. “except seb. cause he’s the one that let this happen.”
“rat!” max screams, whirling around to sebastian. “you said you knew nothing about who andretti’s guest is!”
“i was sworn to secrecy if not i might wake up bald tomorrow!” sebastian suddenly screams in defensive. “i don’t wanna be bald! don’t you think i haven’t thought of telling anyone?”
logan grins, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “i didn’t know you guys were talking.”
logan scratches his elbow as he turns to oscar, tilting his head and pointing between her and milo as if to ask if he’d known about it. in return, oscar shrugs.
“wait,” max shakes his head. “this is actually a thing? you guys are actually boyfriend and girlfriend? like it’s official?”
her and milo share a look. she turns to max and nods. “yeah?”
“you hesitated,” george points out. “why did you hesitate?”
heads turn to one of the men in papaya, a giggle bubbling from his stomach as he points between them. “i see what’s going on — you haven’t talked about it, have you?”
“what?” she sputters, rolling her eyes. “that is absolutely none of your business.”
oscar giggles. “but we’re right, aren’t we?”
george throws his hands in the air. “guys, leave them alone. this is seriously none of our business.”
“but i wanna know!” max whines, stomping towards milo. “how did you guys meet?”
“eras tour,” milo grins widely. “then she went home and stalked me — liked my picture from like 2021.”
“no, i didn’t!” she shrieks, hands coming up to shield her flushed cheeks away from everyone in the room. she runs over to milo and starts to push him towards the doors that lead to the paddocks. “don’t tell people i did that!”
“oh, that’s so embarrassing!” oscar tugs at his hair then hunches over as he no longer can contain his laughter. “rocky, no!”
she scratches her head and darts back towards oscar. “oscar!”
“she didn’t like me very much at first,” milo points out, grinning at her.
“oh, we know,” logan grins, folding his arms over his chest. he glances at the girl cowered next to sebastian, forehead resting on her race engineer’s arm with her hands still cupped over her cheeks then looks at everybody else. “she told us how annoying you were for like 20 minutes after the concert.”
she sighs and just drops herself into squat. “yeah, whatever.”
“mate!” liam grins, pushing the door open of their hospitality home. “i’m liam! it’s so nice to finally meet you.”
he says that as if he hadn’t just found out of his existence literally 2 hours ago.
“aw, absolutely, man,” milo grins, taking the hand that offered to him. “she talks about you all the time.”
“yeah, how fucking irritating he is,” she scoffs, throwing her head back. she steps forward and breaks their hands apart from one another, quickly wrapping her hand around milo’s arm. “let’s go for drinks!”
“really? drinking in vegas?” liam snorts, raising his eyebrow at her. “shouldn’t you have learned your lesson by now?”
“what lesson?” mick hums, appearing behind them. “drinks, right? celebrate rocky’s podium or something?”
“your lesson? what did you do in vegas that’s naughty?” milo teases, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down at her. “you did something stupid, didn’t you?”
she blinks. “yeah, i almost got married in vegas this time last year.”
“married?” milo repeats with a laugh. “to whom? and what do you mean almost? it didn’t happen?”
mick sighs. “we were bested by sebastian — a lesson about drinking too much or something like that. we still engage in black out drinking though.”
the girl cheers with a soft laugh, holding a hand up and immediately receives a high-5 from the older driver.
milo laughs, wrapping an arm around her. “that’s actually kinda funny.” he looks at mick, already well acquainted from their impromptu supper in their hotel room the night before. “she is my girlfriend now though, so…”
liam scowls, looking between the 3 of them. “you guys just made it super weird.”
— bonus
“you seriously didn’t know?” oscar blinks, starting to walk away from the williams racing home alongside his friend and girlfriend, towards the exit of the paddocks to meet their friends. “you guys have been acting so weird lately.”
logan shrugs. “i bet ylona knew. they’ve been hanging out a lot lately.”
lily grins, peeking from oscar’s side to look at logan. “she does. rocky told us she was seeing somebody after they first kissed that one time in new york 2 months ago.”
“2 months ago,” logan puffs his cheeks out and shakes his head, “wow. good for her, honestly.”
“yeah,” oscar hums, “you’d think that she’d actually end up that crazy cat lady if she never finds a decent man.”
lily laughs, squeezing oscar’s arm. “we’ve hung out with him a cou–“
“you what?” oscar scowls, taking a step away from her. “what’s with all the secrecy? are you even my girlfriend anymore?”
“you say ‘we’,” logan huffs. “you’re telling me you guys reeled ylona in without either of us knowing?” lily nods. “assholes!”
taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool
#f1 female driver#fem!driver#f1 fem!driver#female driver#disneyprincemuke vr#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#vettel reincarnate
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AHHHH HELLOOO sorry i usually dont request much, haha this is actually my second request in all of my tumblr story ever but...i saw you decided to write for gaming and i just couldnt resist, i love your writing a lot and i just think its so immaculate hahaa. Could you write an scenario where male reader is stressed from work (imagine he has an important job like a doctor or something whatever you want is fine :)) because he has been working days nonstop, so much that his boyfriend is all worked up and horny for him so when reader comes back he finds himself straddled by him while hes begging for fucking? With cockwarming, breeding kink and cowgirl position. Could that be with Gaming, Lyney and Gorou? SORRY IF IM ASKING MUCH I DONT WANT TO BE A BOTHER😭😭 i just dont know how to request but thanks for reading all of rant. And again, thank you and sorry for bothering😔 have a nice day/afternoon/night!
"an unnamed player has invited GA-MING, LYNEY, and GOROU to play . . .
an apple a day
✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!characters, vaginal sex & riding, breeding kink + creampies, creaming (lyney), gratuitous praise + petnames .
A/N : aa u are never a bother !! i am SO SORRY this took so long for me to get to, omg . . . but i had sm fun with this (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
Patient after patient after patient, each one with a more downright stupid trouble than the last. Your day had started with a young man, clearly fresh out of Millelith training, complaining of a tummy ache, of all things! He had clutched his stomach and moaned and groaned, and all you could prescribe him was bedrest. It’s not like you were going to waste medicine—medicine that some people needed—on someone who ached because he didn't eat fucking breakfast.
The next patient was an older woman, here only for her biannual check up. You'd greeted her, said a sweet, “Good morning, madame,” but all she did was turn her snobby nose up at you and demand you not waste her time.
“Madame, you have a serious—”
“I know, young man.” You had heaved a sigh, letting her boss you around for the length of her appointment before sending her off with the exact same specifications as last time: take vitamins, get ample rest, stop talking back to people just doing their jobs. (Though, that last one there was merely something you wished you had said.
Too bad the customer—in this case, patient—is always right, huh?)
But, by the end of the day, you wish, instead, that you had simply elderly after elderly; their disrespect pales to the absolute headache that the rest of your patients put behind your eyes, pounding at your skull—bam, bam, bam.
Wham bam-thank-you-ma'am, all throbbing incessantly behind your eyes and making you wanna hurl—except, god, you’re the fucking doctor, and who’s there to take care of him when he’s a little under the weather? You’ve got your boyfriend, of course—your perfect boyfriend, light of your life, apple of your eye, yet he’s home, and you’re here, and you’re bloody exhausted.
“I need to go home,” you murmur—quiet, lest your own voice make you lose the last of your thin-threaded sanity—, already stripping yourself of the itchy scrubs you wear during the long days.
“But sir—” the nurse asks, meak, but her voice is still too loud, too shrill for right now.
You huff. “I’ve worked for fourteen hours.” The tired gruff to your own voice makes you cringe. You can feel the way it tumbles from your chest, rattling you, your overly sensitive eyes and brain and head and fuckin’ everything, at this point. “Refer to the doc on duty, now.”
The nurse nods, once. “Have a good night, doctor.”
You bid farewell—a kind apology with a promise to make it up to them, to bring them coffee, maybe, or some cookies—, and you take the slow walk home. The sky is dark and the fireflies are out, the gentle glow illuminating the path. With nothing but your own thoughts and the night to accompany you, you feel your headache gradually ease. It throbs, still; but each bump in your skull is gentler, now: it’s easier to ignore.
Although the porch light is too strong—the lantern bright and attracting the nighttime bugs and moths—, the foyer of your home is dark. Your aching head is grateful for the reprieve—for the silence that envelops you in totality the second the door clicks quietly shut behind you—, but something other than tiredness pulls at your heartstrings: your sweet boyfriend, clad in only a shirt of yours, toeing into the entryway.
“Honey?” He wipes the sleep from his eyes, softly smiling at you. “Hi.”
“Ga-ming, honey—” honey, because Ga-ming unabashedly stole the pet name from you, first, “—you didn’t have to stay up for me.”
As if on cue, his jaw cracks open in a yawn: this, you do not need the lights on to see. Your heart aches with your head, knowing that he had stayed up just for you. “Honey,” you repeat, sliding off your jacket and stepping up to him. You take his waist in your hands, bunching up the shirt he stole from your closet.
“Quit with that,” he murmurs, tilting up his head for a soft kiss. You grant it; but when you go to pull back, to keep the kiss gentle and chaste, Ga-ming presses forward, darting that little tongue out to lick at the seam of your lips; his hips, too, come bumping against yours, pressing into your thigh, pant to skin—
“Ga-ming?” you repeat, breath leaving you in a low huff. “You’re—” bare.
Utterly, wholly bare: an expanse of warm, slick skin against your clothed leg. “‘m ready,” he mumbles while he takes to mouthing at your throat. His lips soothe you, somehow; it’s a reprieve, a stark contrast, to the pounding at your skull.
“Ready?” you whisper, tilting your head back, letting your hands guide the steady roll of his hips onto your lap.
He nods. “Ready for you,” he enunciates as he softly whines.
Ga-ming—your Ga-ming—, your boyfriend, your love and light of your life: right here in front of you, on you, all needy for you, offering himself to you, wholly ready for the taking.
“So please,” he continues, his cock dragging heavy across the seam of your pant; “fuck me.”
“Oh, honey,” you murmur; then again, an “oh, honey,” because you’re still half-dressed up in your clothes—though they’re only soft and bland, made to fit under the rough scrubs you had abandoned at the office—, and Ga-ming is naked save for the shirt draping across him, the low hemline covering the absolutely sinful way he grinds down. It’s a dirty move, a down, down, down that gives his sensitive cock friction against your pelvis.
“Please, please, ‘m ready, I said—” his words abruptly drop off, a high cry in his throat that sends him to hide his overly-warm face in your neck. His skin burns against you, a feverish-hot that makes you chuckle, makes the throb in your head go away, just-so. “I said I-I was ready, so, please!”
You coo, quiet, bumping your hips up once. The jerking motion makes him cry out, but he manages to keep himself upright, right-side up but entirely unmoored on your cock. “Go on then, little lion. Take what you need, yeah?”
Whimpering a quiet, “Y-yeah,” he begins riding you, slow, steady—but slightly off-balanced—rolls of his hips that makes him whine, makes you groan low n’ deep in your chest. You let your hands rest on his hips, the fabric of his shirt falling over your wrists, and gently guide his motions. Once you’ve helped him establish himself, he begins riding you harder, more desperate.
Silent tears—though, are they truly silent, loud as he is moaning out for you?—dribble down his cheeks, falling to his shirt and soaking the collar of it in salty evidence of his abject pleasure. His abdomen is tensing and relaxing and tensing and relaxing again, all in a rapid loop, in and out and in n’ out, and then there’s a fucking bulge right below his navel when he sinks down hard n’ deep on your cock; and you’re sent over the edge at the sight, moaning through your teeth as you fill Ga-ming up with hot, sticky cum.
“Oh, oh—” he cries, grinding down harsh to get all your cum in as deep as possible, deep ‘nuff to breed him— “bred me, bred me so well, oh—” You groan at his desperate babbling as his thighs jerk around your hips, just before they give out on him entirely. He falls bodily into your chest, heaving through his own orgasm as weak mewls tumble from his prettily parted lips. Each sound is smeared into your throat while you laugh, light and breathless, jostling his overly-sensitized body and making him flinch.
“Sorry, honey.” You kiss at his temple, and, the whole while, his small cunt is left to unconsciously milk your cock, left to assure that loud, insecure part of his brain that he’s wanted, that he’s bred all nice n’ full because he is loved. You’re long done, now, but the undulations make your body warm, soft, safe—just like Ga-ming is, comfy in your lap and wholly protected. “Thank you.”
He shakes his head against you, nuzzling into your throat with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have—hafta thank me,” he mumbles, a lick at your Adam’s apple to seal the deal. “I wanted ta.”
Tucking up the blankets around him, you grin. “Then can you warm my cock, lil’ dragon? Just for me?” You run your fingers lightly up his clothed spine, delighting in the shiver you can feel, one that runs the length of your cock as he’s snug on it. “Since earlier was all about you?” You raise the end of your sentence in a lilting tone, meant to tease, and Ga-ming huffs at you.
And, n further retaliation, he clenches around you; the soft squeeze—all wet n’ warm, smearing your own cum across the base of your cock and leaving the mess of both of yours to dribble down the minute space between your bodies—forces you to calm your breathing, to take in the delicate scent of what is undeniably Ga-ming mixed with the smell of your own shirt, your own cologne.
You laugh, then. “‘m sorry,” you say again amidst giggles, ones you’re careful you confine only to your upper chest lest the movement be too uncomfortable on both of your oversensitive groins.
He doesn't reply, snuggled up comfy on your lap and stuffed full of your cock n’ cum both. Instead, he only noses into your neck further before his breathing steadies, lulling you to sleep, too.
It’s in your final moments of consciousness that you realize your head no longer hurts.
(You suppose you now have the evidence that, yes, an orgasm is sufficient enough a cure for headaches.)
Under Lyney’s palm, a small floor lamp clicks silently on. The light is admittedly dim, but, to your sensitive eyes, the bulb is blinding. You cringe and cover your eyes; but it only serves to shield you slightly, because you’re still upright in the foyer, and your body is rather weak. “Lyney,” you tiredly murmur, lifting your palm just enough to see the ground lest you trip.
You bump into him, laughing lightly, but his worried hands jump to your arm. “Hey—”
“I’m okay.” You’re quick to calm him, placing your free hand on his in a tender gesture as you make way to the living room. “Just a headache, ‘s all. Ya shouldn't have stayed up f’r me.” Earlier, it hurt to even think; but here, with him, the pain is easy to ignore, in the face of his own self destruction.
He grumbles at you, though, says something you can’t quite catch and drops his hands, pads over to the lamp to flick it off. The return of darkness is soothing.
He smiles at you, then; or, at least, you think he does. It’s difficult to see in the dark, and you can’t strain your eyes without hurting yourself. “I wanted to!” He takes three long strides before he’s standing in front of you, draping his arms across your shoulders. The position makes his (your) shirt ride up on his belly, and— ”I missed you, y’know,” he murmurs, suddenly all soft n’ deep, looking up at you and bumping his forehead against your chin. “A lot, really.”
“Lyn—”
He quickly silences you with a kiss. Against your lips, he pulls back, murmurs, “I missed your cock, especially.”
Laughing against him, you lean up ‘til he can no longer reach you. He pouts at you when you reply, faux-snark, “only my cock, huh?” Your bottom lip juts out—a mirror of Lyney’s own, a magic trick of his you took for your own; it’s a devilish trick, one you play right alongside puppy-dog eyes you know he’s soft to. “How cruel.”
He huffs at you, pulling you down by the collar of your shirt to kiss the mirth off your lips. “I was tryin’ to be seductive,” he grumbles, knocking against your chin and beginning to push you backwards into the living room. “But nevermind!”
You want to say, “Hey, now:” disagree with him and keep on pouting and go, “hey, hey, hey,” all offended, but the backs of your knees come into contact with the edge of the sofa, and you’re well and sufficiently distracted from that idea.
“Sit,” he gently commands you—merely the illusion of choice—, giving you no choice in the matter with the way he’s pressing you down into the cushions. You go easily; you sigh in relief when the softness begins enveloping you—a pillow’s snug right in the middle of your back, and you briefly wonder if Lyney had planned this. He murmurs, “there you go,” quiet n’ soft, and you’re taken by the way this man gives to you.
He wears his heart on his sleeve, truly; except, right now, the sleeve is yours (just like his heart belongs to you and yours to him in turn), and it's bare, and so is the expanse of his long, pale thighs, the hem of his boxers peeking out beneath the shirt. He stands in front of you, between your legs, makes sure you’re down and that you’re gonna stay down, but your eyes aren’t really tired, not anymore, staring at Luney—your Lyney—before he huffs and sits bodily onto you, straddling your lap with his knees sinking into the cushions on either side of you.
“Lyney,” you murmur, reaching out to take hold of his thighs. The position makes the shirt rise up on his belly, exposing the soft, rippling muscles there; but, in the dark, all you can go by is what you feel against your own stomach, his bare skin pressed to your thin shirt. “I was kiddin’, sweetheart.”
“I know you were,” he snaps at you, mean-like, but he brings his arms around your shoulders all sweetly and nuzzles into the side of your head. “But I wasn’t. I—I really did miss you; and your cock. If you—if you wanna, of course.”
“Of course I want to, Lyn,” you mutter, tilting your head up to kiss beneath his chin. “I’m just a little tired.”
“A little?” He huffs, again, before sighing. “Just—let me do the work, alright? I’m already...” he pauses, tilts his head to the side, breathes in and out sharply.
You hum at him to go on.
“‘m already prepped.” Oh.
“Oh?” You grin, bringing your tired arm up to cup his cheek. He leans into your palm and his eyelashes flutter, brushing against your skin. “Go ahead then, sweet thing.”
And go ahead he does, smiling into you before he abruptly leans back ‘nuff to chuck off the shirt. You whine, say, “hey!” but there isn’t any bite left on your tongue when Lyney starts tugging his boxers down, too. He’s impatient, pulling at the seam and groaning curses at the fabric—as if it’s the damn boxers’ fault that he’s in a position that prevents him from taking them off.
He relents, tilting this way and that and finally—after painstaking minutes later, ones that, under no circumstance, should be arousing, but the anticipation, the wait: it all makes your dick chub up in your own pants—Lyney’s left naked in your lap. The fabric hangs off his foot, and you reach down to tug it the rest of the way off for your sweet boyfriend as he busies himself unbuckling your own belt, loosening the tough leather enough for your pants to droop and enough for him to reach a hot hand into your briefs.
“Eager, huh?” you tease, lifting your hips—and, subsequently, him—to let him get your dick out of your pants. Neither of you bother pulling down your own pants, not after Lyney spent so long on his boxers alone. He doesn’t dally. “My sweet Lyney.”
He sighs, again—he’s rather dramatic tonight; but, then again, when isn’t he? It wouldn’t quite be your Lyney without some theatrics—, spitting into his palm and lathering up your cock with it while he makes to straddle you more fully. “Thought you were tired,” he grumbles, hovering his, indeed, wet n’ slicked up and entirely prepped cunt over your thick cockhead.
“Mhm.” You set your hands on his plush thighs once he hooks the head of you into his loosened hole, groaning low and pleased in your throat while he softly whimpers at the barely-there stretch. He prepared himself well. “But when you’re lookin’ so pretty for me, I can’t help being wide awake. Wouldn’t wanna miss this sight for the world.”
With your eyes now adjusted to the light—and, oh, you consider how the throb of your head is a bygone memory now—, you can see the way his cheeks darken just-so, puffed up in exertion as his groin meets yours. You’ve got your cock stuffed up balls-deep in him, and he leans into you once he’s fully settled.
He moans, less out of outright pleasure and more out of total contentment, comfy and warm on your lap as your arms knead at his thighs. His arms squeeze around your shoulders, and he quietly asks, “Gimme a minute.”
Nodding, you simply bask in the steady heat of him, letting him adjust and recognize that, yes, you’re home, now, and you hadn’t really left him at all. “I missed you,” you murmur rather suddenly, your voice quiet but still stark in the silence of the night. “Thought about you durin’ my shift.”
“You did?” His voice is rough but wispy, a little out-there and entirely gone. He’s slipping into that mindset he always does when he’s left to warm your cock—regardless of if it were by his volition or your own—, but he begins to subtly grind his hips against you, mewling at the hot sparks of rapture from his cock rubbing just right against you.
“‘Course I did,” you continue, moving your hands to his hips instead to help move him along. His arms tighten around you and he moans directly into your ear.
From then on, it’s quiet: quiet, that is, save from the obscene slick noises of the lube Lyney used to prep himself earlier with his own slick, your pre-cum mixing up and making a mess of thick liquid between both of your thighs. His moans are barely audible, these soft, gentle lil’ uh, uh, uh’s punched out of him with each tender grind down.
You think, even, that you’ll both cum like this: quiet, nothing but the sounds of your connection and heavy breaths, moans, groans as you fall over the edge. But then Lyney starts bumping his groin against yours even harder, grinding down deep on your cock and rubbing against your full balls, and he starts babbling for you to “breed me! Please—”
“I-I’ll breed you,” you groan, leaning your head back into the sofa cushions and chasing your release, chasing the release you both want, the one he wants so desperately stuffed up deep inside him. “Gonna fill you right up, just like you want, sweetheart.”
He babbles more—a mix of syllables and words, more pleas for you to breed him—until he’s silenced by his own high-pitched whine, cumming around you and slathering you in creamy-white. The steady clench and release of his cunt forces you to your own end, thick cum slowly leaking out from the edges of his cunt and your cock. (You can hardly tell what’s your leaking cum and what is his own.)
“Thank you,” he mumbles, already beginning to doze. “Th’nk you:” quieter, more muddled against your ear.
You grab the throw you have across the sofa’s armrest, rucking it up around the two of you; you cocoon Lyney safe in your arms and on your softened cock. He’s nodded off, now, and he misses your words: “You don’t have to thank me,” you say anyway, even if he doesn’t hear you, “I love you.”
The cum’ll be sticky, later, when you wake up; but for now, it’s perfect. It’s perfectly warm and entirely cozy, wholly snuggled up with the love of your life. Your headache, the stressors of the day—they’re all forgotten in his presence.
You’re so, so glad to love him.
“Hi, puppy,” you coo. The sound of your own voice grates you, but you ignore it to sweetly smile at your beloved. He stands there, motionless for a moment right there at the threshold before the foyer, until he shakes his head with a barely-there laugh. “Gorou?”
He tilts his head to the side—this you can see, the silhouette of him in the moonlight—before he takes a tentative step forward.
Then another. And another. Another, another, another, ‘till he’s standing in front of you and leans up to kiss your jaw. “Hi,” he repeats, voice ruff (hah!) and hoarse, a little too much so. “Missed ya.”
You tilt your head back to let him mouth at you, and your hands subconsciously come to clutch at his hips, and— “Oh, Gorou,” you mumble, pleasantly aghast, because your hands come into contact with bare, slick skin. “Pent up?”
With a quiet whimper, he tilts his hips forward, into you, pressing against the contact of your fingers on him. You slowly slide your one hand around, sneaking a large handful of his ass before you dip into his cleft, shuddering when your fingertip easily glides across his slicked, open cunt.
“I-I wanted you, so bad,” he starts to mumble, shy, tucking his head into the meat where your shoulder meets your neck. Without any prompting, you adjust your stance, pressing your knee into his cock and making him jerk forward with another whimper high in his throat. “Oh!”
Slowly, his hips begin grinding—it’s a weak movement, testing, making sure you're really okay with this, right now. He moves unsure against you until you begin bumping your knee, letting his slick make a mess of your pant leg. “Go on,” you goad him on, soft, holding him snug against you. You can feel his cunt clench even through the fabric of your pants, a rapid rat-a-tat-tat against you that is oddly reminiscent of the headache you can feel begin to dissipate. “Take your pleasure, pup.”
He nods vehemently against you, beginning to hump as his tail swishes side to side, side to side, hypnotizing you just slightly. It’s hard to parse it out in the dark, but the shadow of it is undeniable behind him. Each bounce of your leg makes Gorou whimper, and he’s quick to crane his neck up for a kiss to muffle himself. You grant his request easily, but only for a minute; after, you gently part from him to murmur, so quiet that only he could possibly hear, those big, soft ears of his twitching as he strains, “What else do you want, honey?”
“Want you,” he whines, grinding harshly once, twice. “Want you inside me, want you to breed me.”
You didn’t expect that, but you’re a doctor, after all; it’s kinda in the job description to roll with the punches, so you do. “You wanna get fucked full of pups?” you ask, teasing and light, but Gorou’s mouth parts as a loud whine crawls out of his chest.
“Yes! Please.” Thick tears begin to drop from his eyes, saltwater dribbling onto the bare skin of your throat. “Now, now—breed me now,” he begs, and you coo at him, bringing your hands to curl into his hair, rubbing soothing circles into the base of one puppydog ear.
“Patience, pup.”
And, because he’s Gorou, and Gorou is nothing but a good boy, he nods, rapid-quick movements of his head, and begins to slow on your thigh. Heat shimmers low in your belly as he steps back from you on shaky legs, a wet splotch across your leg from his cunt. You bring a hand down, meaning to scoop it up off your pant, but your finger brushes two distinctly different textures: his natural slick, and fuckin’ lube. “Did you prepare yourself for me?”
“Y-yeah,” he mutters, tail tucking itself between his legs. You almost cringe at that, knowing he’s smearing himself into his own fur, but if he doesn’t mind, then you won’t either; besides, it’s hard to truly care when your boyfriend is so bashful in front of you. “I—I missed you, ‘nd wanted to be ready for you.”
The image of Gorou, ass up on the bed with four of his fingers stuffed up inside of himself flitters across your mind, makes your cock throb in your britches. Your erection was easy to ignore, earlier; but now it’s abject torture.
However, it’s not nearly as torturous as it was for your boyfriend, and you know this. You know he didn’t cum, know his fingers are far too short to truly reach in deep and press against his g-spot, know his wrist can’t comfortably bend to jerk himself off and finger himself at the same time. So you coo, soft, “Sweet boy. Where’s your toy?”
“Charging,” he mutters.
You grin at that: it’s perfect. “Can you go get it then, puppy?”
With an audible swallow, he nods, rushing for your bedroom. You follow behind him, lethargic but so, so turned on; and while he’s grabbing the vibrator from the corner, you shuck off the rest of your clothes and plop yourself down on the edge of your bed.
He must not expect you to have followed him, however, because once he turns around, he jumps, ears flattening to his head in embarrassment. You only laugh and pat your lap. “C’mere.”
Quickly—and toy in tow—, he shuffles over to you. He stands awkwardly in front of you for a moment before you murmur, “I said c’mere,” and tug him to straddle your lap. The position immediately forces his cock—slick n’ thick, out of its hood and throbbing incessantly—against yours, and he mewls helplessly for a moment, grinds once, twice again, before he grabs the lube to the side of you.
You hadn’t even noticed it there, but now that he’s grabbed it, pointed it out, you feel other wet spots beneath you. He fuckin’ masturbated here, right on the duvet you both sleep under, thinkin’ about you and only you. You’re taking out of your musings when he slathers up your cock in lube, messy and sloppy, and then he’s rising, positioning you, and sinking right on down.
“Mm!” he cries out, swiveling his hips to take you in deeper, deeper, deeper. You groan at the lube-slick combination that smothers your cock in Gorou, Gorou, Gorou. “Breed me, breed me!” Each meak plea makes your cock pulse inside him, and he mewls at each throb inside him. “Please!”
“I got you, pup,” you murmur, your edge so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. “Just make yourself feel good, and I’ll breed you, okay? Okay, puppy?”
“Okay, okay—”
You grin. “Good boy,” you say, and then he’s tumbling over the edge and bringing you right down with him. You groan into his throat, feeling the vibrations of his whimpers n’ whining moans as he’s getting thoroughly bred. Your hands ruck up his shirt to hold his sides and soothe him down from his high. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. Bred you just like I promised I would, hm?”
He weakly nods. “Thank you,” he mumbles, nosing at your throat.
And, well. You’re bloody exhausted, and you promised to breed him, and he can’t keep on being bred if you pull out. You tell yourself you’re only upholding your promise as Gorou falls asleep on your cock, breathing deep on your lap: tell yourself that it’s the lingering tiredness that suddenly seems to hit you in full-force that keeps him warm and snug on you.
Really, clean-up can wait.
i got a lil' carried away on lyney's part ,, o(*^＠^*)o also, none of these were really cowgirl 'cos reader was sitting up for it . . . i couldn't think of how to have him lay flat in these scenarios LOLL
13 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
#ㅤ✦【 ASKS 】#i used to have very frequent headaches and the only way i could abate them was:#1) midol (god's gift to earth i stg)#and 2) jrking off.#so !!#sub genshin#genshin smut#genshin x reader#sub gaming#gaming x reader#sub lyney#lyney x reader#sub gorou#gorou x reader#lord .#top reader#dom reader#amab reader#male reader
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In My Soul
<NSFW>
PLEASE READ FIRST BEFORE CONTINUING
Prompt: Astarion’s heavy gaze is something that throws you into a tail-spin when you catch his feverish glances. On this particular day, he was practically undressing you with his eyes.
Pairing: Fem!Tav x Astarion
Tags: Light angst, smut, intense eye contact, fingering, cunnilingus, basically Astarion is a munch, fluff if you squint really hard
Word Count: 4,833
A/N: i’m sooo sorry this took so long, i was trying so hard to push through and make sure it was perfect but it might be a bit clunky. i write on my phone/ipad and have to edit it in post on tumblr 🫣 but i hope you guys like it i worked really hard. it’s been a few years since i’ve written anything proper but i’m pretty proud of this. it got me all hot and bothered so i must’ve done something right hopefully 😫
Nothing irked you more than when you were in the suffocating heat of battle, and in a fleeting moment catching familiar crimson eyes boring into you through the settling dust.
This was important. Focus was imperative. Yet you couldn’t ignore the rosy heat that crept on your cheeks— the feeling deep in your stomach as if it was doing somersaults. It was silly, really, and that’s why it irritated you so much.
You wanted to confront Astarion— wanted to tell him how distracting he was; how insufferable that simple act made you feel. You knew, however, it would forever be an excuse for him to torment you more. You could practically see him chuckle, pat your head, and then fixate his eyes tauntingly on you. You wanted to tear those beautiful eyes right out of his skull.
You figured you would have a moment of peace when you’d made camp that evening, but that was wishful thinking on your part.
Mending the bright and blazing fire that illuminated your dim surroundings, you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes being on you. Curiously, your gaze wandered the camp. Shadowheart was snug in her tent just a ways from you. Karlach and Wyll seemed to be in deep conversation, paying you absolutely no mind. Lae’zel had been sound asleep for quite some time, and Gale was just across from you, but he was too busy reading to take notice of your analytical gaze. That only left one person unaccounted for, and your stomach dropped at the realization.
“Something the matter, darling?”
Your perception seemed to fail you as he took you by surprise from behind—your backside bumping into his towering figure as you jumped in shock. Peering over your shoulder with the most annoyed glance you could muster, you’re met with his mischievous glare. The rolling of your eyes indicated to him that what he was doing was working— and he loved to see every muscle in your face twitch at his efforts. You simply returned your focus to the fire.
“Would you believe me if I said no?” you remarked sarcastically as you poked and prodded the dying embers. Your ears perked at the chuckle that rumbled in his chest, but you tried your best to brush off the melodic sound.
“Hardly.”
As expected, you weren’t hiding it as well as you thought. The annoyance—the absolute aggravation that coursed through you. You tried your best to brush it off.
His movement was swift as he sat in the space next to you; pressing his shoulder into your own. The sudden contact made you stop momentarily, but not long enough for him to take notice. At least, you hoped not. You fought every urge to look into those eyes.
“You seem quite tense, darling. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?” His voice dragged as he ever so slightly leaned into your ear, knowing full well at this point he was flat out taunting you. Your breath hitched slightly when you felt his hand rest on your thigh and gripped just enough that you almost forgot what was wrong, but reality struck when his fingers traced dangerously close to a certain spot, and you could feel the rage boil all over again.
You huffed as you threw the poker down, and Gale seemed to snap out of the fixation with his book at this. He peered over the top edge of the pages, but you were too hot with fury to notice. Maybe I shouldn’t be so nosey, he thought, but I don’t think they notice me anyway. Gale pressed the book desperately into his nose.
You stood and turned to Astarion with a look of defiance etched into your features; pointing a finger so close to his face he almost went cross-eyed.
“You’ve done quite enough for one day.”
He laid a hand on his chest as if taking offense.
“Sweetheart, whatever do you mean? I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.” He purred, his eyes peering into the very depths of your soul. Seeing him beneath you sent shockwaves through your fingers, and the mention of just that singular word was enough to send you completely over the edge. Sweetheart? Sweetheart?! Who in the Hells does he think he is?!
In that moment, you could feel that consuming feeling take over every connector in your brain, and your stomach churned. You cursed the way your body deceived you before groaning, turning, and stomping off defiantly.
“I need a moment. Alone.” You huffed.
Astarion’s gaze followed your figure all the way to the tent in amusement before you shut the cloth behind you, and after a moment, it was clear you would not be returning. His gaze returned to the fire in front of him. It was only just a bit of fun; he told himself. I could’ve done much, much worse. The poor dear.
“So… do you think she’s gone to occupy herself, Astarion?” Gale’s amused chords rang from behind the pages of his book—himself now sat back comfortably after what he’d just witnessed.
He admitted it was all quite silly, mostly because you’d fought with him a few days previously about your real feelings for the vampire and completely denying them. Gale knew you were just saving face, but it ran much deeper than he’d anticipated. Even if you wouldn’t admit it he knew you liked Astarion. As much as that fact made his brain chemistry practically disintegrate, it was only because Gale had taken interest in you too. You’d made it clear that you just wanted to be friends, and he was respectful of that. Now he was faced with a dilemma; how to get the vampire to treat you the way you deserved. Gale was not convinced thus far that he could trust Astarion, and especially not with their precious leader.
Astarion flashed him a taunting grin.
“Well, if she was, she would have invited me, of course. Tell me, Gale, do you even know where the clitoris is?”
The wizard sat there baffled before collecting his things and beginning to stand. He huffed, much like you had, and scowled in the vampire’s direction.
“I’ll have you know I am well endowed in the pleasure department, thank you very much. Not that it’s any of your business, anyway.” Gale spoke, rolling his eyes. He lingered momentarily as he thought about his next words methodically. He would not risk waking to fangs in his neck, so he let out a tired sigh before parting his lips to speak.
“She’s rather fond of you, Astarion. I just,” his breath caught in his throat, “I just think you should be careful with her. She’s more than just a pretty face. Much more.” The wizard’s hand waved about in the air for emphasis. Astarion examined him carefully in the dim light of the fire and saw the genuine concern that adorned his features, and at this Astarion’s eyes softened slightly.
“If we can agree on anything, Gale, let it be that fact. She’s… definitely something.” His head nodded in earnest. Gale felt his thoughts relax at his words. Though he wasn’t fully confident in Astarion’s motives, at least there could be a start. After all, they shared a damn camp together along with most of their days. He might as well get used to him. With a final passing glance, Gale retreated to his own tent to engage in much needed sleep; leaving Astarion with his own rampant thoughts.
He had to admit that he absolutely adored the way you would get so worked up over his advances. No one had ever tried so hard to reject them— if they even tried at all —and the thought of it made his mind go crazy. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking of stretching your sweet cunt open; tasting every inch of skin you had to offer, absolutely ravishing you like he’d never had a drop to drink. It kept him up most nights, but it was only because you were playing hard to get. He knew whether or not you wanted to admit it; you needed him, and that thought was enough to solidify you as his prey.
But then there were those innocent glances, or sometimes even the smallest, feather-light touches you’d grant him every so often. Even the sound of your voice he found was a sweet symphony that cradled him in the warmest embrace; a feeling he hadn’t felt in all his 200 years of living-death. To say the feeling alarmed him was an understatement, but he figured it had to be a side-effect of these damn worms. Maybe his brain wasn’t functioning properly. Of course he couldn’t entertain anything real between them—the idea was plain insanity. She only serves one purpose, you fool. Stop playing games. You need her on your side.
As he pondered this, something strange happened. He felt the hairs on his body stand on end, almost as if electricity had coursed through the very make-up of his cold blood. An unfamiliar heat crept over his skin and warmed his cheeks. His ears perked at the sudden noise that erupted from your tent, and it made every cell in his body twitch. It took every ounce of him to stop the movement of his feet from approaching your abode, but the sweetness of that sound could not be ignored. All thoughts had been wiped from his mind as he closed in on the opening while his hand reached out to the cloth. He hesitated for a moment as his ears perked up again becoming aware of a new noise, and he couldn’t help but listen intently.
Tucked inside your tent you felt the heat building in the small space; your ragged breaths muffled by your own hand as your other worked tight circles on your clit. This is ridiculous; you thought. He was practically eye-fucking me. The damned bastard.
The image of his eyes flashed behind yours along with the feeling of his fingers trailing up your thigh; his breath fanning the nape of your neck. It drove you wild. You imagined him positioned between your legs; his tongue lapping at your juices as he fought to keep your legs steady so he could worship your cunt properly. I wonder how his curls would feel between my fingers.
You moaned at the thought, but pressed your hand tighter to your lips to avoid anyone hearing your lewd noises. You could feel your release coming, and with every circle your breaths became quicker and more difficult to conceal. Squeezing your legs tighter to create more friction, you felt the small earthquakes begin to erupt throughout your body, and a white veil shielded the world from your eyes. As you convulsed, you failed to hear the footsteps that approached your tent as your psyche was completely sabotaged with pleasure.
As quickly as you peaked, the electric feeling began to wane as your chest rose and fell in tandem with your animalistic breaths—grounding you back to the dull reality of your tent—while your fingers lingered over the sensitive bundle of nerves that twitched with painful aftershocks. You sucked in a deep breath and held for a few seconds before releasing the weight of your orgasm with it. Something in you felt so guilty and rotten for the act. We’ve never even had a decent conversation and your imagining him waltzing into your tent and absolutely destroying your cervix. Unbelievable.
Your hand slowly moved from your mouth to rest on the apex of your throat as if feeling a lingering hand there; like you were trying to fill an empty space that you hoped eventually would be awarded to someone. Your eyes peered above into the boring and equally uninteresting cloth that made your tent as your brain drifted to the Pale Elf’s captivating stare anew, making you lose your breath all over again. You knew there could be no future there with a happy ending, but would it hurt so bad to just entertain it if even for a moment? What if it could be everything you’d dreamed about, or conversely your worst nightmare? Was it worth the risk? Questions riddled your brain that you were too frightened to answer.
Then your body tensed with a sudden jolt when you’d finally heard it—the dirt just outside your tent crushing under someone’s feet. Before you could even look up from your very obviously lewd position you heard the swish of your tent flap, and your body did something similar to a cat arching it’s back in defense. You thrusted forward to cover what you could of your half-exposed body, and in the anxiety of it all your eyes met with deep carmine irises that were glazed with insatiable hunger. He was already halfway through the opening, but didn’t dare to dip even a shoulder in as his eyes raked over your figure. The scent of your orgasm lingered hot and fresh in the air and it maddened him to no end. Stupid Wizard. Why did he always have to be right? He recalled Gale’s intuition about you “occupying” yourself. Damn bastard.
There was a moment of tense silence as you both stared at one another—both in want and in need—but neither pair of lips could make out words. You clutched your blanket close to your chest to at least have a semblance of modesty, but you were fooling no one, and especially not Astarion.
“I’m sorry, my sweet, but I seem to have caught you at an excellent time.” His lips curled into a smug smirk as he drank in your reddened cheeks and your slightly parted lips. You were still hot from your orgasm, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to retort back with something equally infuriating and snarky. All you could feel staring into his eyes was a deep and ravenous sea of lust awash your entire being. Your lip caught between your teeth as you examined his face wondering what the hell you were supposed to say in a situation like this.
“I said I wanted to be alone. Apparently you’re hearing impaired.” You didn’t sound as sharp as you’d wanted to, but you frankly didn’t care.
“And yet your sweet noises were loud enough to catch my ear. If I didn’t know any better, maybe you wanted to be heard.” His voice dipped below his chords into a very slight growl and it ignited a flame in your stomach that couldn’t be satiated with mere banter. This required action, and a newfound confidence consumed your being as you leaned back in your bedroll.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. But I hardly see why that gave cause for you to waltz in here preening as if I have anything to offer you.” Your teeth bared in a prematurely victorious smile as you examined his full figure that was now nestled into the confines of your tent. He towered over your sitting figure; the shadow of it reaching to every corner of the room. It seemed to grow as he advanced on you quite suddenly when you felt his foot briefly brush against your own to stand at the foot of your bedroll. He shook his head as he beheld the sight of you; completely suffocating in awe and wonder at your figure beneath him.
“Oh no, my dear. You see, I am the one who comes offering. I cross my heart you won’t have to lift a pretty little finger.” His words drip like honey as his figure begins to shrink, taking you only seconds to realize that he was now on his knees with his hands placed firmly upon your own bent ones. His eyes pleaded you for entrance between your soft and supple thighs as he squeezed your skin to urge you on. Your lips fell slightly parted as you contemplated what was happening, and that it was in fact real. You had only moments to come to terms with whether the decision was morally right or wrong, but at this point fuck morality. In that moment you saw the absolute desperation and need he had to make you sing for him, and you couldn’t deny that it made you blush from within as easily as your cheeks had. You rationalized that you had no choice but to part your legs underneath the weight of his palms—breath hitching in your throat has he crawled in the empty space between them before hovering over the entirety of your figure.
“What a sweet little love you are. Are my words so captivating that you’d part your legs at the mere sound of them?” His hand grabbed your chin with the most gentle touch as he angled your gaze to better see him. He wanted to look at all of you, even to the deepest part of your beautiful eyes. He rubbed a feather-light finger across your cheek as his fingers trailed down the same area on your throat you had imagined earlier. Just moments ago so empty, and now you felt completely beguiled at the touch. He awaited your response while his fingers trailed your abdomen.
“If it were your words, we would have been in this position a long time ago.” You breathily sighed as you felt his fingers playing at the threads of the blanket that covered your exposed lower half. His eyes didn’t waver from your own even as your own parted his to look at his hands that inched closer and closer to where you so desperately wanted him.
“Ah, yes. I do believe it’s my gaze that get’s you so bothered.” He grabbed your chin once more, but this time more firmly, to direct your eyes back onto his own. Your mouth suddenly went dry when you felt his fingers dip lower, just barely grazing the hood of your clit, and you fought to keep in a whimpered moan at the sensitive feeling.
“Don’t keep those eyes off of me, darling. I want to watch every moment of your pleasure.”
You let out a soft moan as his fingers began to work gentle, insatiable circles on your sensitive nub. The intensity of his gaze was the only thing keeping you grounded in the blur of pleasure that began to build so quickly due to how recent your last orgasm was. Astarion felt a carnal lust building in himself, nearly drooling at how slick your folds were given your recent release. He wanted to hear those sweet moans for himself, and this time by his own hand. Your cunt was so needy for him that it took no effort to slip a dexterous finger into your core, and then another because he felt so generous. Your hips bucked slightly to create more friction as you already felt your second orgasm of the evening nearing; cheeks reddening in embarrassment as you began clenching around his fingers. He knew you would come undone momentarily, but he was lost in the way your brows furrowed together. The crinkle of your eyes when he would hit a certain spot within you. Your lips so plush and agape, which allowed your soft moans to travel into his ears and strike the deepest part of his dead heart so effortlessly. You were an absolute vision in his eyes.
He closed the space between you with a soft and gentle kiss if only to fill the gap in time he knew which your orgasm would arise. His tongue barely passing your lips; you couldn’t fight the way your hands lifted up to rake your fingers through his soft curls, tugging at them for stability in the kiss that you deepened. His fingers moved at a delicious pace as he brought you to your climax, and you already felt an emptiness in knowing that this moment was over. Even if you hadn’t ridden it out completely—your lips still connected—you felt hollow. Like there was something missing. You felt the gentle tug of his teeth on your bottom lip when he dragged it out, and your throat couldn’t help but release a deep moan as he awarded you with a few more small rubs to your sensitive spot before parting you too soon. He read the desperation in you like an open book, spying the emptiness behind your iris’. Still staring at your gorgeous face, he brought his soiled fingers to his lips before parting them; his digits disappearing into his mouth and cleaning your cum clean off. There seemed to be a new vitality that erupted in him at the mere taste of it, and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his pretty lips.
“I’m not finished with you yet.”
Your eyes widened when Astarion broke the eye contact so suddenly, but quickly replaced your shock with content as he connected his lips to the skin of your heartbeat. You couldn’t speak words as you were still hazed from your second peak, but allowed him to work at your body like putty in his hands. He never lingered in a spot too long as he kissed his way down your sweaty body, catching a nipple between his teeth teasingly as he did so which made you whimper. He never once broke eye contact as he shackled you down with just a simple look. You were utterly smitten with him and what he was going to do, and his plead to keep your eyes on him seemed like a silly request to you now. You couldn’t imagine doing anything else but stare at him.
Astarion began to salivate as he neared your sex, knowing full well how slick you were from his touch. The smell of your arousal had filled his senses entirely when he’d reached that aching spot. It was almost instinct to dart his tongue out to catch the dripping juices that flowed from your beautiful cunt, and it was exactly as he had imagined. Though he was a Vampire, and accustomed to a very obviously blood based diet, he wouldn’t deny now that he could live off of the sweetness of your cum alone. As much as he desired to burry his cock in you, he knew the look of your face when his tongue connected with you so intimately would be ingrained in his brain for eternity.
You brought yourself to the upright position; your hands bracing your body behind you to better get a view of this moment. He effortlessly hooked both arms under each of your legs and held firmly at your hips to better spread yourself for him. He didn’t hesitate for a moment longer when you’d situated yourself, and promptly connected his hungry mouth to the mess between your legs.
The feeling couldn’t be overstated; nearly bringing you to tears. It was beyond the amount of pleasure that a being could endure in a single evening, and yet with Astarion there you felt like you could do this for hours. The way his tongue traced devious lines in between your folds, and the way it would dip to tease your entrance. He fought at the idea of pushing a finger inside, but when your hand made home in his white curls he knew he had to make you cum by his tongue alone. He decided then to take your sweet clit between his teeth to suckle on it just right, and deliberately released a hum of satisfaction that he knew would drive you mad. The pained whimper he received proved that his efforts were a success.
You refused to tear away from his eyes. They peered up at you through delicate lashes, and they exhibited such strong hunger that it nearly overwhelmed you. Slipping an innocent finger between your lips to bite back something—anything— from escaping them, you felt his tongue moving faster and with more desperation. His fingers gripped at the skin of your hips so furiously that you knew there would be lingering marks, but you didn’t care. If it was your choice, you’d wish for every mark he gave you to be permanent; a constant reminder of this insurmountable pleasure. Gods, you couldn’t imagine anything in the entire universe feeling this amazing.
Your body shook with another arising orgasm and Astarion’s lips parted you briefly, if at all, to speak.
“So beautiful,” his lips connected with you once again, but only in a gentle kiss, “So delicious.”
He brought his lips back to your spot again to resume his pace, and you threw your head back as far as you could without breaking your gaze. Your orgasm fizzed inside of you more intensely than you’d ever felt before, feeling yourself clawing at the confines of your mind for release. It was too much, far too painful and you were suffering, but you absolutely relished it. You nestled your fingers back into his soft locks as you helped to guide his movements against your aching nub, and his perfect movements mixed with your direction was enough to bring you to the edge of your peak. Your chest heaved heavy breaths in anticipation for your release, and Astarion’s eyes only grew hungrier as his mouth turned animalistic; ravaging your cunt with so much force that you actually felt a stray tear dance across your cheek.
When the moment came, Astarion was completely enraptured. The taste of your cum was so much different at the apex of your orgasm that it nearly brought tears to his eyes; that something so sweet could only be sweeter. He loved how your body shook with passion as the feeling flooded your senses, but nothing was as beautiful as the view his eyes had been graced with. When it came to you, there were no doubts; you were definitely different in every aspect. Even when you rode your orgasm out against his lips, he expected you to push him away, but you never did. You only peered down at him with blood-bitten cheeks and a smile from ear to ear.
“If you’re going to make a habit of calling me silly pet names like ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’, you’ll be finding yourself in this position quite a lot.” A chuckle fought at the back of your throat when the words parted you, and you were relieved to see Astarion equally as amused. He rested his head on the ridge of your stomach while his hands traced light circles on the flesh of your legs, awarding you a toothy smile.
“Well, now I can’t imagine anything more enchanting than your ‘little death’, so maybe I should make it a habit. Of course, I’d only do that for my own benefit. Maybe a healing potion, or a new dagger. Definitely not for your pleasure or mine.” He raised a brow mischievously, and the tone in his voice let you know that he was only joking, because there was no hiding it on his face. He’d enjoyed the moment just as much as you, if not more. You were willing to bet now that he would stow away with you every evening to steal moments like this. Even he couldn’t deny that it had brought a warmth into him that he hadn’t felt in hundreds of years. He wanted to lock those images into the confines of his mind so that he might never forget them, replaying them only when he found himself engulfed in darkness with no hope of seeing the light.
“Definitely not. I couldn’t imagine anything more horrible.” You couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face, staring down at him in content. For the first time you could see him as he was; just a man. Your heart sang at the idea that maybe this was okay, and you’d both needed it. Maybe there was to be more in store for the two of you, but in this moment you were just happy with his presence.
He hadn’t even noticed he was lingering until you had fully flattened against the bedroll; your arms getting tired from holding your body up. He sat holding you like that for so long, laying against your stomach and gripping at your hips that he almost felt embarrassed. He’d never been one to linger after any sexual acts, but he couldn’t help but feel so safe with you. The comfort in knowing no words needed to be spoken. And as he got lost in his thoughts, you had already began to drift into blissful sleep with him attached to your abdomen, and he saw no reason why he had to leave.
So he stayed there all night, observing your peaceful face.
#18+ account#astarion#astarion bg3#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate astarion#bg3#reading#smut#bg3 astarion#fanfic#fem reader#18+ mdni#mdni#spawn astarion#astarion brainrot#astarion x reader#reader imagine#18+ content
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rainfall
…ft! dazai, chuuya, fyodor x gn! reader
…tags! fluff, some hurt/comfort on dazai’s, headcanon format, rainy day off with the boys!
…wc! 308 ; 369 ; 345 = 1022
…notes! i don’t think i’ve ever seen fluffy idiot content of fyodor. i must rectify this.
Dazai
Dazai treasures rainy days more than anything.
“Oops sorry Kunikida, I can’t come in to work!!! Rain is just sooo heavy you know?”
The office is literally down the block he’s just not bothered
Who needs work when he has his beautiful partner?!
That’s what he whispers to you with a giggle and a grin as he nuzzles into your back.
Most times, that’s all it really comes to: a sleepy Dazai, cute compliments, and being lovingly held against your will.
Other days, it isn’t so easy.
He’s like a rock. The only notion you have that he’s awake is one of his eyes staring at the window outside, at the rain. He doesn’t even message about his absence in advance this time – that’s up to you.
He isn’t as snuggly, but he doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around him and holding him.
Eating isn’t exactly something on his mind on these sort of days. Even with that in mind, he’s always sure to quietly thank you when you hand-feed him meals.
Those days are difficult, but you make them easier.
“You have work today, right? Don’t bother with the dishes,” Dazai calls out to you from the bedroom. The clattering of the porcelain couldn’t exactly be hidden, you admit.
Dazai sighs as you continue washing and drying. New weight on the bed behind him makes him aware of your presence a few minutes later. Your arms wrap around him without hesitation.
“You don’t have to stay,” he says to you when the silence becomes too much for him.
You merely snuggle further into his bandaged body. “Yeah. I want to, though.”
To his own surprise, Dazai relaxes into your touch and words.
“...Well.” He smiles for the first time all day, softly, and his eyes linger up to the rainfall again. “If you say so.”
Chuuya
Days off are all too rare in Chuuya’s line of work.
As soon as he’s free, he’s tiredly at your side, and he is not leaving.
Seriously he is … so clingy when he’s tired. Whether you’re shorter or taller than him, prepare for his arms to be slung over your shoulders and his face in your hair.
Mention it to him and he’s grumbling all crabby lol.
You’ll have to wake up in the mornings to his work clothes sloppily discarded throughout the hallway to your room. He wanted to conk out STAT.
He insists he’ll pick it up later (when he’s getting dressed for work again)
Rainy days aren’t exactly anything that stops him from working, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take the opportunity to call in for a day off once in a while. He can almost hear the smile on Mori’s face over the phone telling him to enjoy it.
He’s fairly average at cooking when he eventually does get up, maybe sometime in early afternoon. If he’s too sleepy though? …Yeah, keep him away from the heat.
Overall, it feels… super domestic having these free days with him. He wouldn’t mind this every day, if the opportunity presents itself.
If you knew you’d be greeted to this, you would have woken up a little earlier to at least catch him.
“Mornin’!” Chuuya leans back against the kitchen counter, breakfast on the table between you two. A tired smirk is on his face, proud of his cooking. Simply dressed in his work shirt and his boxers, the look of him is just too much for you to handle right now.
You walk over to give him a small peck on the cheek, thanking him gently. As you eat, wondering what it’d be like if he could make you breakfast every morning, you glance up and point a fork at him.
“After this, I want some snuggles for at least another hour.”
Chuuya couldn’t stop himself from scoffing playfully at your ‘threat’, resting his chin on his palm. “Well… I’ll see what I can do.”
You smile, digging back into your food. You know he wouldn’t let you go once you’re back under covers.
Fyodor
It all started with you judgementally asking if he even has a life outside his work.
You didn’t expect him to get so offended, but his glance over and raised eyebrow gave you all you needed to know about his answer.
The next morning, you didn’t expect to actually have him be beside you as you shake slumber off you. He’s almost always at his computer by the time you’re up.
It’s not as if Fyodor is neglectful in any way, he’s just … a little peculiar in his habits, for lack of any nicer terms.
Before you could even ask, he’s already greeting you in a gentle voice, tacking on a sweet nickname on the end of it.
Oh. Oh he was awake the whole time.
This is a competition to him.
You could almost sigh in disbelief. For someone supposedly so intelligent and wise, he sure has his moments.
Rainy days with Fyodor are spent with him suggesting activities to do together, but it’s very obvious he just put “at home activities” in the search bar and clicked the first link.
You don’t remember having this many board games. How did he do this.
The night comes to a close as Fyodor sits with you in his lap, finishing up some professionally recorded opera of sorts. You couldn’t understand half of it, but Fyodor laughed at it a few times, so it must have been good. His chin rests on your shoulder and you can feel his smile.
“So, did I prove you wrong?”
“...What, about having a life?” You can’t help but roll your eyes. “You sure proved something alright.”
Fyodor hums, sarcasm dripping from just that single note. “You should treat me more fairly. I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.”
You would bite back with another retort, if not for Fyodor twisting his neck so he could peck your lips before resting back against the chair.
Trying to ignore the flush of your cheeks, you sigh. “You’ll get it with practice.”
“Ah, so there IS a next time.”
“Shut it.”
#✮ grimm's fics!#bsd#bsd x you#bsd x reader#bsd imagines#dazai x reader#chuuya x reader#fyodor x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd scenarios#bsd fluff#bsd headcanons#osamu dazai x reader#chuuya nakahara x reader#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#dazai fluff#chuuya fluff#fyodor fluff#bungou stray dogs
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ultraviolence
words : 2,261
tags : gun kink , fucked with a gun , predator / prey , reader has a prey kink , peacekeeper ! snow , light sadism , size difference , size kink , obsessive behavior , power play , creampies , orgasm delay / denial
a/n : idk what came over me whilst writing this im gonna be so honest…. semi inspired by Cherienymphe‘s “everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officer” fic!!! its so good
p.s : this is also posted on my ao3!!! ( divider by pommecita )
snow barely had any empathy for people, let alone any districts. he was a man who fell into poverty himself, but he got out of it, he was a capitol and he’s friends with those that come from the highest statuses. normally people felt pity for those in the districts, they scavenged for food, or proper clothing. not snow, he thought it was a game to watch them snatch up fresh bread and run like their lives depend on it. because it does, they survive, they live another day and satisfy their hungers, if they get caught, they’ll be dead in seconds— especially if coriolanus catches them.
he liked the power he had, the fact that he could do almost anything he desired and get away with it because the districts had been committing a crime anyway, he just stopped them from doing it any more. he liked that they would cower underneath him, beg for their lives, he liked that he had the power to give them a simple warning, to let them off the hook, but he never did.
not until now.
he found himself chasing yet another bunny, heavy boots padding behind your thin, poorly made shoes.
something about the adrenaline rushing through your veins had a heat developing in between your legs, like it was a primal reaction, an animalistic urge. he nearly noticed in the way your steps staggered, but that could be lack of spacial awareness, which he noted that you had. you were so busy running in straight lines you didn’t even bother to juke him or to hide.
easy prey, aren’t you?
he thought that at first, until your steps suddenly changed, turning to the right.
and you had disappeared between the greens and tall trees, his wild eyes raced around the all too silent forest. he tuts, a low taunt, “where are you, bunny?”
his voice came out sing - songy, having your breathing shake from the tree you hid behind, your thighs pressed together.
how was a hunt so intimate, so sexual?
“why are you hiding from me, bunny?” his voice is softer, as if he’s pouting.
you hear his boots snap twigs with ease, crush leaves into fragile pieces, dip through mud. he was getting closer, like a wolf stalking it’s prey, like he knew where you hid. you tried to hold your breath, to keep yourself hidden, but it was no use. he rounded the corner, and you ran into a sprint again, nearly dropping the bread you had taken.
if you hadn’t dropped it then, you were sure to now.
his arms took you into a threatening hold, at first pushing you into a tree, then slamming you against the floor when you wriggled at his grasp. his panting breath, your fearful whines, the begging that sat on your tongue silently, it was as if sex had been happening even with your clothes on. your tears well with tears at being slammed on the hard ground, and he feels the fabric of his pants tighten at the sight.
“please,” here comes the begging, music to his ears, “it’s my first time stealing, i’ve never done this before—“
“is that so?” his head cocks to the side, holding down your wriggling hands, “i’m sure i’ve seen you before, doll.”
“you must be mistaken,” your puffy lips part, breath heaving as you try to pull away from him.
it doesn’t work, he just simply holds you down, he easily could with one hand if he wanted to, “are you calling me a liar?”
it was embarrassing, truly, being so turned on by the way his voice deepened with firmness, by the way he held you down with such ease, “of course not, i would never—“
“you just did, though,” his tone is biting, typically he doesn’t let conversations last this long, but something about you was different. his eyes catch on to the way your thighs are rubbing together, not in a way to try to free yourself from him, but where you crave friction. “my, my, what do we have here?”
his hand taps against your thigh, pulling up the hem of your dress, his eyes land on yours, waiting for confirmation.
you immediately nod, it’s so quick, impatient, he adores it.
his long fingers lace around both of your wrists whilst the other pries your thighs apart, noticing the way fluids soil your panties.
“how cute,” he observes out loud, allowing his hunger to show in the way he nearly rips your panties apart whilst harshly tugging the, down, watching how your legs immediately fall apart into a spread, panties hanging off your ankle for dear life. you were so desperate, you were willing to do this in the woods, present yourself to a peacekeeper just because you had gotten horny merely off a chase.
his hand smoothes against your right inner thigh, feeling goosebumps form in prickles, and the way you shiver underneath each touch. his hand is large against your cunt, a single finger moving through it to feel the wetness, your hips immediately buck, desperate for more.
his chuckle is soon silenced by his hand raising to his mouth, just so he can taste your slick.
removing it with a pop, a curt smile tugs at his lips, sweet, like honey.
his hand smoothes down your inner thigh again, and you realize he’s teasing you, “officer—“
his thumb is threateningly close to your cunt, “hm?”
“touch me,” you breathe out, “please.”
how funny is it that the last time you said please to him you were begging for your life?
“like this?” his eyebrow quirks, pad of his thumb moving to swipe against your clit, your back arches ever so slightly.
the whine that emits from you is far too loud for his liking, so he hushes you with gentle shhs, thumb rubbing slow circles on the bundle of nerves.
“you don’t want people to hear us, hm?” he hums, “to find out you’re letting a peacekeeper touch you in such ways, truly scandalous.”
he can imagine it being front page of the district newspaper, girl caught fucking peacekeeper in woods!
your fingers twitch in his grasp, finding his movements far too slow, and he finds your movements and whines far too annoying.
he moves to plunge a finger into your cunt, making your whines hush to whimpers, unintelligible words.
“real impatient, aren’t you?” his finger moves slow at first, watching the way your hips move against it in response, “maybe i should just put you in your place.”
he removes his finger, watching the way you desperately clench around nothing. his hand moves to grab his machine gun, which he had ditched as soon as he threw you to the floor, he finally releases your wrists, you have a chance to run if you wanted to, but you didn’t— because you didn’t want to run, because the fear that filled you when he aimed his gun at you had even more of your fluids escaping the oyster between your legs.
he moves to cock it, taking it off the safety.
“fully loaded,” he reminds you, but also seems to be reminding himself.
he seems to believe you don’t believe him in the way you look up at him through glossy eyes, and he moves to aim his gun at a nearby tree, one to your right, directly behind you. and he shot, birds cawed as they flew away from the loud shots, he noticed how you flinched, immediately moving to the safety of his grasp, and he only smiled, how adorable that you find safety in the man who had enough power to kill you in seconds.
he hushes your fears, not reassuring anything about your safety as he moves the gun tip your legs back apart, one of his hands leaving it as he wraps it around your wrists once more, holding you back down in a missionary position. the hand on his gun was less steady now, finger tight against the trigger, it had you biting your lip. he traces along your inner thigh with the tip of the gun, “you’re gonna be a good girl, right?”
he watches you immediately nod, so eager, “yes, yes, officer.”
his gun passes a trail down to your cunt, pressing against your clit, he could shoot right now, the finger on the trigger was so tight, so unsupported. he could slip once and shoot directly into you, something about that thrilled you more, made your hips buck against the gun, practically riding the weapon. he admires your desperation, the way your face twists with pleasure as you move against the cool material that built the gun.
he eventually pulls the tip of the gun down, until it’s at your entrance.
he watches your eyes widen as the metal dips inside of you, spreading you open with ease.
your hands flail in his tight hold, “it hurts— officer, wait—“
“hm?” he pauses for a mere second, “sweet bunny, you can take it.”
the pain soon subdues to pleasure as he begins moving the gun again, pumping it in and out of you and coating the black of the weapon with your milky slick. whimpers of pain soon become moans of pleasure, the tears that had built a gloss over your eyes dipping down your cheeks as your eyes close, hips bucking against the weapon.
“easy, bunny, easy,” his voice is strained, like seeing you cry awakens something within him, when your hips stop moving against his gun he continues to pump it, faster this time, “good girl, gonna cum all over my gun?”
you nod, more tears escaping as the thrill of your possible death and the pleasure from the weapon that may cause it becomes all too much. a deep groan vibrates from his chest at the sight of you crying, lips parting to continue, “that’s it, good, good.”
it’s as if you crying is enough to have him reaching his climax already, as if seeing you cry felt like jerking off.
the gun widens the more it goes into you, stretching you until you’ll be nothing but a gaping mess from his gun when he’s done.
so filthy, to be easily stretched out by something that has killed many, how terribly cruel of you, to be cumming on it.
and the man who had done it is merely watching, admiring you like this was an art gallery, and you were the center piece. he notices the way you near your orgasm, as your hips can’t help but grind down on the gun, moans escaping past your nearly bitten to bleeding lips. and you start calling out to him, “officer, officer, please— can i cum— please.”
a mere plead, and if snow was a good man, he would say yes, but he wasn’t one.
“no, bunny, you ran from me,” his finger slides against the trigger, staring at you with a new tint glossing over his eyes, “do you think you deserve to cum?”
“yes, i need to, i want—“ your breath quickens, mindlessly grinding down onto the gun.
“no,” he pulls the gun out, depraving you of every wish. he notices the way you whimper, thighs pressing together and rubbing in desire to form friction. there was none, and soon he was tossing his gun to the side, tugging his pants and boxers down ever so slightly to free his cock, then prying your legs apart once more.
he carefully moves himself between your legs, his hand around your wrists finally freeing them, admiring the red ring he left from how tight his grip was. the same hand moved to fall against your throat, fingertips dipping in to your delicate skin as he guides his dick to your entrance, carefully pushing into you. he feels you tense underneath him at the feeling of him filling you once more, the length and girth enough to reach your intestines, you were sure of it.
once he bottoms out, he notices the way a bulge appears at your pelvis, popping up against the skin then falling to a settle with each thrust. his other hand moves to your mouth, his fingers spreading your pillow lips apart, your salty taste pressing against your own tongue.
“taste yourself, bunny, so sweet, hm?” he grunts with each thrust, practically manhandling you with each snap of his hips, fingers dipping down your throat. he watches your eyes roll back, mumbling pleas for the satisfaction of your orgasm to finally come, your bodily fluids sticking to his pelvis and his dick, your walls pulsed around him, drooling onto his cock.
he nears his climax almost immediately, nose scrunching slightly, “cum, cum for me, sweet bunny.”
“officer—“ your back arches off the earthy ground as you finally reach your climax, moans vibrating against his flesh and he continues to thrust, riding out your orgasm, overstimulating you until he’s practically fucking you dumb. eventually, he bottoms out, pumping you nearly full of his cum. he moves his hand from your mouth, sticky from your saliva, and takes your panties off your ankle, pulling out and plugging your hole with your own panties. just so you don’t lose any of his cum.
“there, now you can walk around with my cum inside of you, how sweet.” he takes his hands off of you, moving to tuck his softening dick away and standing.
he offers your limp body a wink, swiping up his gun, and following up with a, “don’t let me catch you again, doll.”
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#tbosas#coriolanus imagine#coriolanus smut#coriolanus x y/n#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tom blyth
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I saw you're taking req, hmm I wanted some angst like neglected reader & diluc or kaveh, the story or plot is up to you 🥹🥹
look at me
diluc x reader
warnings: mean diluc, one sided relationship, arguments, angst
another night you found yourself alone in bed, the book you had been reading laid open on the spot that belonged to diluc, or used to. longer nights seemed to be often now, staying up for him. not like he cared for your presence anyway. only giving you a glance when he’d get in bed, facing away from you.
the cold feeling of the sheets on your skin no longer warmed your heart, trying to grasp at the scent of him on his pillow. it was like loving a ghost. if you could even call it a relationship anymore.
dates and anniversaries had been forgotten about for months now, empty promises he’d give you before stopping completely. never giving you anything to hope for. that’s what you believed on your birthday, leaving you alone that night. a thickly frosted cake sitting in front of you, tears in your eyes with his maids somber smiles as you blew out your candles.
you still held hope in your heart, hope that things would go back to how they used to be, to a loving relationship with him. that was until that night. screams and tears being the only thing between you two.
“i’ve told you for the last time, (y/n). i’m busy. can’t you take this up with sucrose or one of your other friends? i don’t have time for this nonsense.” diluc sighed, pressing his thumbs on the bridge of his nose.
“we haven’t done anything together in months, diluc.” you looked at him with hope in your eyes, holding out a flyer for the upcoming windblume festival in mondstat. “we can go to this together! it’ll be like how we used to go to your wine festival’s back in the day, but this time you won’t have to-“
his gloved hand tearing the sheet out of your grasp and ripping it in half silenced your words. you stared at him, wide eyed as he looked to you with the meanest glare he only reserved for kaeya.
“i don’t give a shit to go to some silly festival with you. do you ever wonder why i don’t spend time with you anymore (y/n)? why i’d rather be manning the bar instead of letting my employees do it?” he seethed, getting right in your face as you stood there frozen.
his fiery red hair matched his tone as you felt your love and hope for this relationship slowly wither with every word that came out of his mouth. his piercing eyes not hiding his distaste for you,
“the reason is i simply cannot stand to be here with you. i can’t stand the way you look at me so stupidly. you still believe something is there when i haven’t even looked at you in months.
i don’t love you anymore (y/n). get that through your thick skull. or do you still think i’m kidding? that one day i’ll waltz in here and kiss you like i used to? that i won’t leave you alone here every day with the maids?
nothing will change. i don’t care if you leave me. do what you wish, just stop bothering me.”
he left your shared bedroom with a slam of the door. the glass on your bedside table shaking as silent tears slipped down your cheeks. you were tired. tired of the fighting, tired of him.
the next day you did as he asked, or screamed. with a heavy heart you left his manor, a home you had known for six years. ignoring his lingering stares in the streets of mondstat for the next few months.
every time you’d see him stop and stare at you, you’d shake your head. he didn’t miss you. you couldn’t miss him. nothing was waiting for you back at the winery.
you never knew of the way he’d uncap some of his special wine, sitting at the same table you used to have dinner alone in. gulping down the bitter liquid, he hated every second of it sliding down his throat. but he hated the way he felt without you even more.
the day he told you those words he’d felt nothing but regret. coming home to an empty house solidified that feeling of guilt and pain as he remembered the look on your face as he claimed he no longer felt anything for you. it was a lie. he lied to keep you away, away from his duties to hunt down the fatui. you didn’t know he was the infamous dark night hero, only believing his white lies of being at the bar every night.
oh how cruel could fate be as he watched you move on. you’d refuse to look his way if he stood next to you at a stall, your gaze locked on the merchant. never at him.
eventually your gaze would be locked onto his brother, kaeya. kaeya’s smirk as you held onto his arm made his blood boil. he had taken something else from him. but were you ever his to be taken from?
as he sat on the floor of his cellar, tears in his eyes as he inhaled the smell of grapes and liquids he now found comfort in, he only thought of you.
“hey (y/n).. the windblume festival is coming up soon.. do you want to go together.” he whispered to himself, more hot tears running down his face.
“i didn’t mean what i said that night.. i’ll cut off my own tongue so i never yell at you again.. so please,
promise you won’t go.”
taglist: @samarill @lelemnh
#genshin angst#genshin x reader#genshin x reader angst#diluc ragnvindr#genshin diluc#diluc x reader#diluc angst#diluc fanfic#diluc ragnivindr x reader#diluc x you#diluc x y/n#master diluc#diluc x reader angst
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attending a gala with young!politician!snow is both more and less terrifying than you’d imagined
he’d picked you up at 7pm on the dot, waiting outside of his car for you. coriolanus was dressed in all black, a departure from his usual red color palette. the moment you’d stepped outside to meet him in the dress and shoes (as well as necklace) he bought you, he’d smiled charmingly at you and offered his hand.
“you look absolutely enchanting, miss y/n,” he breathed, tone full of sincerity. you could feel your cheeks blaze at his compliment, giving a timid grin.
“thank you, coryo.”
coriolanus brightened even more, opening the back door of the car with his free hand and keeping you steady with the other as you slid in. he followed just after you, settling in beside you on the seat. now here you were, on the way to a big fancy party full of people who made more money in an hour than you did in a whole year.
“are you nervous?” he asks, glancing at you.
“absolutely terrified,” you admit with a soft laugh. “i’ve never been to anything like this. i don’t want to do or say the wrong thing.”
“you’ll be fine, i promise. just follow my lead, and it’ll be over before you know it.”
you nod, but still can’t force down all of your nerves. aside from this whole event being unfamiliar to you, you’re still jittery and unsure with coriolanus. he’s been so hard to read lately. you’re not sure if he’s just toying with you, but it feels too bold to think that perhaps he has a real interest in you either. too indulgent of your daydreams, your fantasies. you can’t seem to stop the fluttery drumming of your fingers against your thigh, until coriolanus is taking your hand and sliding his fingers between yours to stop their incessant tapping. your gaze snaps up to look at him, surprised by the touch.
“everything’s going to be okay. trust me,” he says gently, giving your hand a soft squeeze. for someone who’s last name is snow, his hands are so warm. his thumb brushes over your knuckles soothingly, looking down at you with a calm expression, and you nod. you do trust him. he adds, “i’ll be right beside you all evening.”
his promise makes you feel better, some of the tension leaving your body at both his words and his soothing touch. you glance down at your interlocked hands, his so much bigger than your own. his fingers are so long, pale and beautiful as if they were carved from marble. the veins along the top stand out, raised little rivers of blue that crawl up into his sleeve. his silver watch band rests against the delicate skin of both of your inner wrists.
once you arrive, it feels like a whirlwind of colors and lights and sounds. you find yourself dissociating from most of it, from the moment coriolanus leads you inside with a hand at the small of your back. you try to focus on the way his cologne catches your nose when he turns or moves, the familiar scent helping to ground you. the event passes in a flurry of coriolanus’s voice chatting pleasantly with Very Important Men, fond introductions of you at his side by your name and never your job title, being handed flutes of posca that you only sip on here and there. your date, however, seems to have no trouble at all socializing and sharing drinks with these people.
he’s a natural people-person. coriolanus charms and wins over just about every person he speaks to. the men respect him and listen to what he has to say, while the women giggle and let their eyes wander his face and body. you don’t like that the latter bothers you enough to sling back an entire flute of posca at one point while some district 8 office holder’s wife practically undresses coriolanus with her eyes. if he notices the female attention at all, he doesn’t show it. coriolanus simply keeps one hand planted firmly along your spine, occasionally stroking the exposed skin there softly.
finally, finally, the night comes to an end. coriolanus is loose from the bubbly drinks he’s had, making him a bit more smiley than you’re really used to. his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink that spreads over the bridge of his nose and makes him glow.
“did you have fun, darling?” he asks as he gets into the car with you. while he waits for an answer, he fumbles until he finds the button that raises the privacy screen between you two and the driver.
“fun is…certainly a word,” you offer, unable to stop your grin. coriolanus seems younger like this, spine less rigid and jaw less tense. he looks his age right now, you realize.
“hm. yes, well, i don’t have much real fun these days,” he laments, undoing his tie and shrugging off his suit jacket. “especially not with a beautiful lady on my arm.”
he glances sideways at you as he says it, sly smirk making his smile line in his cheek stand out. you resist the urge to reach out and touch it, instead looking down at your hands in your lap. you never know what exactly to say when coriolanus says things like that. you’re not sure if he’s being sincere, or if it’s just meaningless flirting to him.
he says your name softly when you avert your eyes, gingerly lifting your chin. “look at me, darling,” he whispers. he’s turned his body to face you fully now. his eyes search your face for a long moment before they trail down, landing on the snowflake pendant resting between your collarbones. his finger trails a path down your throat before tracing around the charm.
“it suits you,” he murmurs. the air in the car is suddenly so very warm, electric with the energy between the two of you. he’s so close to you, you wonder if he can hear your heart racing right now. if he knows its because of him.
“coryo,” you exhale, breath trembling slightly. you feel his touch again against your cheek, cradling it softly in his palm. his eyes seem to almost glow in the low light, the streetlights you pass making them appear almost translucent when they reflect off his irises. you both lean in simultaneously, eyes fluttering closed.
the first brush of coriolanus’s lips is soft, curious even. as if he’s giving you the chance to push him away. instead, you sigh and melt into him. his free hand comes to rest on your waist, squeezing softly as he kisses you more firmly when you don’t pull away. his mouth is plush and slick against your own, tasting like the sugary posca he’d drank.
you lose yourself to his kisses, slow and languid and indulgent, making you dizzy with how good it feels. coriolanus slides his hand down from your waist to your hip, then further down to tease at the slit in your dress that splits over your thigh. his teeth nip at your lip playfully, and he smiles against your mouth when you gasp at the way his fingers curl behind your knee to hitch your leg up over his own.
he encourages you to move so you can straddle him, sitting pretty in your silky dress on his lap. your hands land on his broad shoulders while his lips parts from yours, pressing hot, open-mouth kisses along your neck. his tongue drags along the side of your throat, making you shiver and moan softly.
“there’s a good girl,” he mutters, hands smoothing up and down your thighs that splay over his. “you make such pretty sounds for me.”
coriolanus’s words make you feel lightheaded, paired with his wandering touch and exploratory kisses. you shift in his lap just slightly, gasping softly when you feel how hard he is beneath you. his cock presses into the apex of your thighs, his hips pushing up subtly. he lets out a quiet groan, the hottest sound you’ve ever heard. the uncontrolled noise spurs you on, gives you the nerve to cup his jaw and bring his mouth back to yours and demand more of his heated kisses.
“stay with me tonight, my darling,” he pleads, panting against your mouth.
“yes.”
#ehehehe i PROMISE next part is when i’ll stop edging u guys and give u what we all want#i just love a slow build#its about the yearning 🤌🏻#politician!coryo x secretary!reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#tbosbas#coriolanus snow smut#tom blyth
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i’ve been scrolling through your blog for the past 30 mins and my dumb cunt can’t stop leaking through my underwear. i often walk home late at night from a lab and i always daydream abt getting raped and degraded by a mean man like you! someone to pinch my clit, tell me that you hate stupid thing. to spit on me and slap my face until my dumb puppy cunt is dripping n ready for your cock. i’d secretly hope you’d noticed my tiny gaped asshole and start fingering it, see how many fingers i’ve fit inside of me before. it’d be hard to not notice how my cunt starts dripping to the point where your balls get soaked with my slick. id hope by that point you’d take my anal virginity and label my pussy as your lube dispenser. just watch it drip strings of slick as your cock absolutely destroys my asshole.
Mhm, I'd love to catch you as you walk down some dark alleyway, rushing back home. I'd stumble in behind, pinning you flat against a wall. By the time you'd realise what's happening, I'd clamp a hand around your neck and slap you sharply. I'll tell you what an eager piece of rapebaiting fuckmeat you seem like, walking down this alley every night. You'd scream, of course, but I'd slap you hard enough to shut you up. I wouldn't even bother gagging you. No one else would hear you.
I'd flip you around so you stand with your stomach pressed against the filthy, mossy wall. With one hand against your nape and the other roughly tearing at your pants. I'd mock you for being a filthy perv that gets off to being manhandled. To being abused by a complete fucking stranger. I'll plunge my fingers into your throbbing cunt, laughing as you try to hide your moans. I'll slap your cunt, progressively hitting you harder, noticing it get wetter. Only a masochistic bitch would get as wet as you.
Then I'll notice your gaped asshole and plunge my finger in. I'd know what a complete anal whore you are just from how loose it is. I'll ask you if I should use my fingers... or if I should use my cock instead. I wouldn't care what answer you give me between your whimpering moans of lust and fear. I'd slide my dick against your cunt briefly, using your lube dispenser of a cunt before I drive my dick in. I want to feel you stiffen and for you to scream silently at the pain. In that moment, I'd wrap an arm around your neck, holding you while you choke. Breaking your gaped, fuckhole with each thrust. I'd pound into you, grunting furiously while I use you to jerk off in. I'll feel your knees buckle, and I'll simply pin you against the wall by fucking you against it violently. I want to feel you pass out while I use you.
And once I've spent my cock inside your drooling asshole, I'll let you fall. You'd never see my face. It's not like it'd matter. You'd just go home, shower, and rub yourself to the memory anyway.
#rough cnc#cnc k!nk#free use slvt#degradation k1nk#rough kink#r@pe fantasy#r@pe k!nk#humiliation kink#r@petoy#r@pe kink#cnc railing#rapedoll#rapekink#rapetoy#r@pe play#asks
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reggie + innocence kink
warnings: smut, innocence kink, use of “daddy”, “baby”, and “princess”, hickeys
masterlist
you quietly slipped into regulus’ dorm, checking if he was still up. it was late, you didn’t want to bother him, but it simply hurt too much. you needed him.
he looked up from his textbook on his desk. “love? what’re you doing here?”
“hurts, reggie,” you whispered, walking towards him. he lifted you up and set you down to sit on his thigh.
“what hurts, love?” he asked, his eyes scanning you for injuries.
you led his hand down under your skirt, against your panties. they were soaked through, dripping against your thighs.
you felt something harden against your legs once his hand touched you.
“oh. oh, love, how long have you been feeling like this?”
“since last night, when you came out of the shower in your towel,” you admitted, embarrassed.
his eyes seemed to click with realization.
“oh, princess, i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, i should’ve realized.”
“s’okay, daddy,” you said, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. his eyes lit up at the nickname.
“do you want me to make you feel better, doll?”
you nodded against his skin. “yes, please.”
“such lovely manners,” he picked you up and set you down on his bed.
he unbuttoned your blouse, throwing it on the floor, revealing your lacy white bra, your nipples poking through. he licked his lips at the sight of you.
he quickly discarded the rest of your clothes, leaving you naked against his sheets.
you squirmed, feeling exposed, and reached your hands up to cover yourself.
regulus hummed in disapproval. “none of that. you want me to help, do you not?”
“i- i do,” you said, quickly removing your hands. “i’m sorry, daddy,” you said, your eyes filling with tears at the thought of disappointing him.
“it’s alright, princess. now stay still and tell me if you want me to stop,” he leaned down on top of you, one cold hand reaching down to cup your breast. you whimpered at his touch.
“i’ve barely touched you and you’re already making such pretty sounds,”
“more,” you whispered, your eyes wide, “please,”
he grinned and grabbed your other breast, playing with your nipples. he lowered his face onto yours, kissing your lips, your cheeks, your jaw, your neck.
he worked downwards, leaving marks as he went down. he spent the longest on your breasts. kissing them, licking them, biting them until they were practically one large hickey, your nipples swollen and dark.
he kissed down your stomach, stopping at the skin above your sex.
you whimpered. why wasn’t he continuing? he trailed kisses on your skin, licking it. your back arched slightly at the feel of his tongue.
he moved down to your thighs, grabbing them in his hands, kissing them, biting them.
“m-more,” you whimpered, “please, daddy more, make it feel better,”
“what do you want, love? daddy’s tongue, fingers or cock?”
“cock,” you mumbled, “want daddy’s cock,”
regulus grinned, straightening to undo his belt. you tried to lift your head when you heard his pants fall to the floor, but he pushed you down. “no. no looking.”
“why?” you pouted.
“i need to protect your innocence, baby.”
you whimpered, upset, but didn’t try to look again. he lowered back down to the bed, this time his hips against yours, the two of you face-to-face,
you felt his cock brush your folds and squirmed beneath him. your juices coated his length before he even entered you.
he slowly pushed himself aside, you gasping at his size. when he finally managed to push himself into you fully, you could feel him in your stomach.
“daddy’s so big,” you mumbled, dazedly.
regulus smirked, his hands moving back to play with your sore breasts.
he thrusted into you, hitting just the right spot.
you had to bite down to stop yourself from screaming.
he thrusted again, and again, and again.
“f-faster,” you whimpered, bouncing on his cock, “please, daddy, faster,”
he quickened his pace, lowering his face down against yours. “how does it feel, princess?”
“good. s-so good, daddy,”
“daddy makes you feel good?”
you struggled to answer as he continued fucking you. “y-yes. daddy makes me feel the b-best. only daddy.”
“that’s right, only daddy. only daddy gets to touch you because you’re his, right? daddy owns you.”
“m-mhm, daddy owns me. he owns me and he can do anything to me. i belong to him. i’m his property.”
regulus smiled. “yes, daddy owns you. he owns such a good girl.”
“d-daddy?” you whispered, a knot forming in your stomach.
“yes, princess?”
“i- i feel funny. m’stomach feels funny.”
“aw, baby, are you going to come?”
you nodded.
you felt regulus twitch against your walls.
“go on, baby, come on daddy’s cock.”
the moment you got his permission the knot snapped and you released all over his length and his sheets. regulus continued fucking you through your orgasm and eventually reached his own release.
hot strings of cum painted your insides, marking you as his, his, his.
because you were all his. and daddy really made you feel better.
#marauders#marauders era#marauders smut#regulus black#regulus#regulus black one shot#regulus black smut#smut#harry potter smut#hp smut
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Man On a Wire
A/N: somehow this worked again I really hope you loves like this!
Request - Anonymous asked: For a dialogue, how about Remus thinking you like Sirius so when you ask him to a library date he thinks it's a prank or to make Sirius jealous and he says no. Remus then finds out you were talking with Sirius about him and apologizes.
Warnings: insecurities on Remus' part, making him be a biiit of an asshole, but I think that's it! let me know if I missed anything, also is like 2am here and this is not proofread
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D
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Man On a Wire
I feel like I'm walkin' on a tight rope
My heart is in my throat,
I'm counting on high hopes to get me over you
You kept walking back and forth in front of the Quidditch Pitch.
“You need to calm down, love. It’s only a question” Alice tried to reassure you.
“B-but what if he says no?” you asked, feeling anxious.
“He’s not gonna say no” she insisted.
“You don’t know that. There might be a million reasons why he would say no” you said, making your best friend glare at you. “O-okay maybe not a million but… a f-few” you shrugged.
“Hey, ladies” you heard Sirius approaching and landing next to the two of you. “What are you still doing here? We’re gonna be done in a few minutes” he said looking at you.
“She’s second-guessing herself” Alice told him.
“C’mon, love. We’ve been through this. I’ve told you a million times. I know first-hand, Remus is basically in love with you-” Sirius said, rolling his eyes.
“L-love? You never said anything about love, Black!”
“I didn’t think I needed to. He looks at you worse than Prongs looks at Lily or Frank looks at this one” he said, pointing at Alice.
“Hey, don’t drag Frank into this” Alice glared at him.
“My point is, it’s time you both just stop being stupid and get together” he simply said.
“But what if he says no?”
“Why would he say no?”
“I don’t know!”
“He’s not gonna say no, okay? So, just, go up there and we’ll be out here waiting for you two idiots to come out holding hands and we can go to dinner” Sirius said before he started pushing you towards the bleachers, where Remus was sitting.
“Okay, okay, I’m going!” you said, looking at your best friends one last time and taking a deep breath.
You started climbing up the empty stairs and walked over to one of the highest bleachers where you knew Remus always read while he waited for his friends to be done with practice. Not that you knew his every move you just… noticed. You felt your heart beating faster when you spotted him. He was so enthrallingly handsome, it was ridiculous. You always heard girls talking about how stunning Sirius was and, you didn’t disagree, Sirius was very attractive. But Remus’ beauty was completely different. It was hypnotizing. Which is why you were extremely worried about asking him out.
You gripped your books to your chest a bit tighter and made your way over to his spot. He was so concentrated on his book that his tongue was sticking out a little and he was resting his head on his right hand as he read. You cleared your throat a little, getting his attention and making him look up at you.
“Um… h-hello, Remus” you smiled, nervously.
“Hi” he smiled back at you.
“I am sorry to um b-bother you” you started. “Uh, is it okay if I join you?”
“Oh, yeah, sure” he said, getting up and scootching a little to make room for you. How were you not supposed to fall in love with this man?
“Um, th-thank you” you said, placing your bag on the floor and taking your books out. “So, um… what are you reading?”
“Oh” he said, marking the page on his book. “Um, I’m reading A Murder is Announced” he said, showing it to you. “Have you read it?”
“Oh, yes, I read this last year. It’s a really good book. Are you enjoying it?”
“I am” he nodded. “So, what brings you to the Quidditch Pitch today?” he asked, all of the sudden.
“Oh, w-well, there’s a match on Friday” you said. “... right?”
“Right” he smiled. “Are you planning on coming to the match?”
“W-well, I don’t know. I’m not much of a Quidditch fan, as you know” you said, feeling your cheeks burn. “S-so, I thought maybe if I watch them practice I might understand it a little bit better?” you said, nervously.
“Why the sudden interest?” he asked, curiously.
“Um, I don’t know” you said, nervously running a hand through your hair. “It’s our last year, so… I promised myself to try new things” you smiled wearily. “So, um… do you think you can explain some of it for me?”
“Um… sure” he said, putting his book down. “I mean, I’m not the best myself but I did read Quidditch Through the Ages” he said, making you laugh a little. “So, Prongs is the captain” he said, pointing at his friend. “He, Sirius, and Kurt are Chasers. So, they have to get the Quaffle through the hoops” he instructed.
“Okay, that doesn’t seem that complicated” you said.
“Right, but it’s the Beater’s job to throw the Bludgers at them and prevent them to do so” he told you. “Fabian and Gideon are really good. But, we’re playing Ravenclaw on Friday and their Beaters are quite ruthless” he explained.
“So, I take it you’re coming to the match on Friday?”
“I am” he nodded. “I never miss a Gryffindor match” he smiled.
“Oh, Merlin! Look at him! He looks even better with his hair like that” you heard a group of girls a few steps down and to your right. They were ogling and sighing over Sirius, who wasn’t as far, brushing his sweaty hair with his hand.
“Ugh, I know! He’s stupidly handsome” another one giggled.
“So… Sirius has his own cheerleading section?” you chuckled.
“Yeah, he kind of does” Remus told you as Sirius made his way over to the group of girls in his broom.
“Hello, ladies” he said, flashing his signature handsome smirk at them, making them giggle and they all started complimenting him.
When he spotted you, he quickly sent a wink your way. You failed to see Remus rolling his eyes as he started putting his stuff in his bag, which is why he failed to see Sirius widening his eyes at you before pointing at Remus hinting that you needed to ask him. You sighed, rolling your eyes, and took a deep breath one more time.
“Um, R-Remus?”
“Yes?” he asked, looking back at you.
“Um, w-well, I was um…” you stuttered nervously. “C-could I ask you something?”
“Sure” he said, turning to look at you.
He noticed you were nervously playing with your hands before you looked at Sirius one last time and then you finally faced him. He prepared himself to hear you ramble on about how much in love with Sirius you were and if he could help you fix a date with him or something.
“W-well, I was w-wondering if, uh-” you said, again. “If you’re not busy on F-Friday, um… m-maybe you’d like to um…” you stammered. “G-go with me to the Library to study, b-before the match?” you managed to finally spit out. You felt your heartbeat increase as you waited for your answer.
“What?” Remus frowned.
“O-or if you’re busy we can c-come to the match?” you tried, smiling nervously. “O-or I b-believe it’s a Hogsmeade weekend-”
“What’s your angle?” he asked you all of the sudden, taking you by surprise.
“Um… a-angle?”
“Honestly, if you want to go out with Sirius, just ask him” he said, standing up and grabbing his bag.
“Sirius? W-what are you talking about-?”
“You know, a lot of girls have asked me what’s the best way to ask him out but none of them have sunk so low to the point of pretending that you would like to spend with me to get closer to him-”
“That’s not what I was-” you tried to explain, getting up yourself.
“What is it then? Are you trying to make him jealous or something?”
“What? No! Remus, I don’t-”
“You know what? No, thank you. I honestly have better things to do than to spend a day with you talking about Sirius” he said before walking away, leaving you standing there, mouth opened, dumbfounded. You didn’t even hear the last things he said. The only words ringing in your ears were ‘No, thank you. I honestly have better things to do than to spend a day with you.’
Your eyes kept looking at him as he climbed down the stairs and you saw the group of girls that were looking at Sirius. They all looked at you with sorrow in their eyes. They felt sorry for you. You had just been rejected in front of them. You felt your eyes starting to water as you saw Alice running towards you.
“Hey, what happened? I just saw Remus leaving-”
“He said no” you silently said as a few tears ran down your cheeks.
“What? Why?”
“He said he- um” you tried to explain to your friend as she sat you down. “He thought I was asking him out b-because I wanted to get closer to Sirius” you said.
“What? That’s ridiculous! Why would he think that?”
“I don’t know” you said. “I tried to tell him that wasn’t the case b-but he didn’t let me explain and he left” you finished, crying a little harder.
“Hey” Sirius said, flying over to the two of you. “What happened? Why are you crying?”
“Remus said no” Alice informed him as she hugged you.
“What? Why?”
“He thought she was only asking him because she wanted to ask you out” Alice explained.
“He said that?” Sirius asked you and you slowly nodded. “I’m gonna bloody kill him” he muttered under his breath. “Look, love, I’ll talk to him, okay?”
“N-no, it’s okay” you said, trying to stop more tears from falling. “I d-don’t think Remus likes me that way anyways” you said, sadly.
“Don’t say that, love” Alice insisted. “Let’s just go to dinner and we can talk things through” she suggested.
“I’m not hungry” you said, pulling away and grabbing your things. “You guys should go” you smiled sadly at them. “I think I’m just gonna go to my dorm” you told them, eying the group of girls who were now leaving.
“No, we can talk to Remus-”
“Go and rest, okay? I’ll bring you something” Alice interrupted Sirius.
“Thanks guys” you smiled weakly at them. “I’ll see you tomorrow” you said before making your way out.
“Bye, love” Sirius said before turning to Alice. “I’m going to kill Remus” he repeated.
“If you don’t, I will” she replied.
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“What the bloody hell is your problem?” Sirius asked when he burst into his dorm.
Remus was reading a book, James was coming out of the shower, and Peter was just sitting there waiting for everyone to get ready so they could go to dinner.
“Which one of us are you talking to, Pads?” James asked, confused.
“Why don’t you ask your stupid friend Moony” Sirius said, glaring at him.
“What are you talking about?” Remus frowned confused.
“Oh, you’re going to play dumb? So we’re just going to pretend that nothing happened back in the Quidditch Pitch and you didn’t make anyone cry?”
“What?” James and Peter asked at the same time.
“Again, what are you talking about? Nobody cried” Remus said, closing his book and getting up.
“Really? Are you sure about that, Moony? Are you really sure?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Padfoot. You have no idea what happened!”
“Oh, really? So, you didn’t reject her when she asked you out?”
“What? Who asked you out?” James asked, interested.
“Nobody-”
“Nobody? Really? The girl that you have practically been in love with for years is now nobody?”
“What? She asked you out?” Peter asked.
“You said no?” James asked, extremely confused.
“She didn’t ask me out, okay? She was only asking to spend time with me to get closer to you!”
“What?” James and Peter asked again. “That doesn’t make any sense!” James said.
“Yeah, what are you talking about, mate?” Peter asked.
“Why the fuck would she want to get closer to me? We’re friends!”
“Because she’s in love with you, just like every other girl in this stupid school is, apparently!” Remus snapped.
“You see? You see how stupid your friend is?” Sirius told James.
“Stop talking to me as if I’m not here! And stop calling me stupid!”
“Mate, you are stupid! You truly are if you think she was only asking you out to get closer to Sirius!” James told him.
“Shut up! I saw the way that she was looking at him! You winked at her, and all of the sudden she’s interested in Quidditch and she wants to go to the match on Friday, and I’m supposed to believe she doesn’t fancy you?”
“Mate, I highly doubt she’s interested in Quidditch” Peter laughed.
“Yeah, she’s as interested in Quidditch as she is in Padfoot” James added.
“Moons, I winked at her because I knew she was nervous about asking you out. See, it was actually the other way around. She came to me and asked me how she could ask you out” he explained.
“W-what?” Remus asked, feeling terrible.
“Do you honestly not know how much in love with you she is?” Peter asked, confused.
“Yeah, she’s always looking at you, mate” James told him.
“She’s n-not” he insisted, trying to convince himself that he hadn’t just turned you down and that you were not in love with him. “She likes Padfoot. She’s always with him-!”
“Yeah, talking about you, you idiot!” Sirius told him. “She’s always asking what your favorite books are, what movies do you like, and what would be the best way to ask you out! And when she finally got the courage to do it, you said no” he explained.
“Holy shit” Remus muttered to himself, plopping on his bed again. “I am so stupid” he stated.
“Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, mate” Sirius said, sitting next to him. “So, what are you going to do?”
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Throughout the next few days, Remus tried endlessly to find you so he could apologize but it was useless. You were avoiding him like the plague. Even when he tried using the Map, it was as if you were one step ahead of him. He looked for you in the Library, where he thought you’d be even if he said no, but you were nowhere to be found. He hoped you would make it to the match on Friday, but again, you were a no-show.
It wasn’t until Saturday when he begged Alice to drag you to Hogsmeade so he could just ‘casually’ run into you. It took him and Sirius to convince her since she was still mad at Remus for rejecting you, but she caved.
So, here you were, on your way to Hogsmeade as a third wheel on Alice and Frank’s date, although they insisted it wasn’t a date, so Marlene and Dorcas were here too. So, all in all, you were fifth-wheeling.
“Come on, love. It’s gonna be fun!” Marlene said, linking her arm with yours. “We can do whatever you’d like!”
“Yeah, we can go to the Three Broomsticks, or Tomes and Scrolls, or the music shop” Dorcas suggested.
“To be honest with you, girls, I kind of just want to go to Honeydukes to get as much candy as I can carry and then go back” you said with a sad sigh.
“What? No, love, it’s a beautiful day!” Marlene insisted.
“Look, we have some errands to run, why don’t you go to Honeydukes to get some candy, and then we can meet at the Three Broomsticks?” Alice suggested as you entered the village.
“Um… can’t I just by my candy and go-”
“No!” Dorcas and Marlene said in unison. “We’re gonna head to the Three Broomsticks to get a booth, so you better come there after buying your candy” Dorcas added.
“Ugh, fine!” you said, frustrated.
In all honesty, all you wanted to do was buy an endless amount of candy and go back to your dorm. Ever since Remus rejected you, you felt people watching you everywhere you went. You could hear them talking about you and you were certain that the girls that witnessed the entire thing had already spread around your very much public rejection. Which is why you had been avoiding going out of your dorm as much as you could.
You turned around to make your way to Honeydukes, completely missing that your friends joined James, Peter, Lily, Remus, and Sirius at the Three Broomsticks.
“You’re up, Lupin” Alice said, still glaring at him as the rest made their way inside the pub.
Remus took a deep breath before he followed you into the sweetshop. He spotted you on one of the furthest shelves, holding, or trying to, as many sweets as you could in your hands. He felt a sweet smile forming on his face as he watched you. A small part of him still thought that Sirius was wrong. That there was no way that you could ever be interested in someone like him.
But his heart fluttered more intensely with each step he took towards you, and he knew that whether Sirius was right or wrong, he still needed to apologize to you for the way he spoke. When one of the many chocolate frogs you had fell on the floor, he quickly made his way over to you and picked it up.
“Um, here, I think you dropped this” he said, making you turn around to face him. His heart ached a little when the smile dropped off your face when you saw it was him.
“Oh… um” you said, grabbing the treat from his hand. “Thanks” you smiled nervously.
“How have you been?” he asked, cursing himself silently. “I uh… didn’t see you at the match yesterday” he added.
“Right… I wasn’t really in the mood to go” you smiled firmly.
“Oh” Remus said, feeling even worse. “W-well, you missed a good match” he chuckled. “Gryffindor won” he said.
“I heard” you replied noticing a few people looking your way. “Um, I should uh- probably get going” you said, as you were going to start making your way out, but you felt Remus gently grab your arm and turn you around.
“Wait!” he said, getting even more attention from the students around you. “Um, I…” he felt his heart beating a little faster. He didn’t like dragging this much attention to himself and he wanted to ask you to go somewhere a bit more private. But, firstly, he didn’t think you’d like to go anywhere with him until you apologized and secondly, he very much publicly rejected you, so maybe he had to do the same thing. “I wanted to apologize to you” he blurted out.
“Oh, R-Remus, you don’t have to-”
“Yes, I do” he said, getting closer to you and pulling you a little away. “I’m really sorry about the way that I spoke to you” he said. “I’m sorry for assuming that you were just talking to me to get closer to Sirius-”
“Why did you think that?” you asked all of the sudden.
“E-excuse me?”
“Why would you think that the only reason I would talk to you or wanted to spend time with you would be to get closer to someone else?” you asked. “I mean, I thought- I thought we were friends… Is that… um… is that what you think of me?” you asked, sadly.
“What? No!” he assured you. “I don’t- we are friends” he insisted. “I just…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, here it goes” he said, taking a deep breath. “I like you, love” he started. “I really like you. I’ve liked you so much for so long, I’m pretty sure that I’m very much in love with you” he confessed. “But, I never in a million years thought that y-you could like me like that” he said. “I thought that you were only interested in Quidditch because you wanted to see Sirius and I saw him wink at you, so my reasoning was that you liked him because, for some reason every girl in school does, and that would be the logical thing-”
“The logical thing would be for me to like Sirius?”
“Well, yes” he said as if it was obvious.
“Why?”
“Why would you have any interest in spending time with me then?”
“Because I like you, you big idiot!” you blurted out, frustrated.
“Y-you do?”
“Yes! I figured Sirius might have told you by now, or you might have heard it from the entire school who apparently knows and you’re the only one who’s still oblivious to it!”
“Well, to be honest, Sirius did say something but, I still wasn’t entirely sure that it was true-”
“Why, Remus? Why do you think it’s so impossible for me to be in love with you?”
“L-love? Did you just say love?” he asked, smiling.
“I uh-” you said, realizing you just let it slip. “Well, you said it first!”
“Well, yes, because it makes sense for me to be in love with you, but it doesn’t make sense for you to be in love with me!”
“What? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! Why?”
“Why? Oh, I don’t know, maybe we should discuss this on the next lunar phase” he said, muttering the last words.
“Oh, Merlin! Really? Is that what this is about?”
“For starters!” he argued. “Trust me, it would make a lot more sense if you liked Sirius! He’s handsome and always laughing, he’s funny and witty-”
“Remus, are you trying to tell me that I should be in love with Sirius? Or that you are in love with Sirius?” you smirked a little.
“That’s not what I meant!” he glared at you. “Look, I just… I never thought that someone like you would ever want to be with… someone like me” he muttered the last part.
“Wow, you really are an idiot, aren’t you?” you chuckled as Remus rolled his eyes.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?”
“Who called you an idiot?”
“Sirius!” he complained.
“Aw” you smiled. “Well, we can be two idiots in love, or you can just reject me again. It’s your move, Lupin” you told him.
Remus bit his bottom lip, trying to prevent his smirk from getting bigger. He walked closer to you and gently pulled you closer to him by your waist before he leaned down to press his lips against yours. You suddenly dropped all the candy you had in your hands and you quickly wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
“I choose two idiots in love” he smiled before kissing you once more.
“Good answer, Lupin” you smiled.
“Oh, I also wanted to ask” he said, grabbing your sweets and placing them in a basket. “If you’re not too busy if you… wanted to go on a date with me?”
“Well, I told Dorcas and Marlene I would go to the Three Broomsticks-”
“Yes, they are all waiting for us to get there” he informed you.
“Oh, okay, so that’s a no on the Three Broomsticks then” you said, as you walked over to pay for your things.
“I think that’s for the best” he smiled.
“Well then, it looks like my day is free” you said, as Remus held your hand when you walked out of Honeydukes.
He pulled you back a little and kissed you once more. “I really am sorry, love” he smiled.
“I know you are, Rem” you smiled back at him.
“So, does this mean you’ll keep me company on Quidditch matches?”
“If you’re there, I guess I can be there” you smiled as he kissed you again, neither of you noticing your group of friends looking at the two of you from the window at the pub across the street.
“Fucking finally” Sirius muttered, bumping Alice’s fist.
The End
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A/N: hope you loves like it! Charlie's coming up next!
#marauders#marauders imagine#remus lupn#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin oneshot
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[cw: dubcon, manipulation, age gap (legal ofc?!), mommy kink, dacryphilia, bondage]
here i am again with another wony thought of mine 😭 i’ve been seeing a lot of wony asks from you guys so here’s something a lil extra on top of me working on the wony stuff ya’ll have been sending/have sent before :] this is a very specific scenario i hope you guys don’t mind LMAO
wony’s never beating the mommy’s girl allegations i fear!
ehehe heiress!wony with you as her mentor figure :(( you’re one of her rich grandfather’s closest associates and since the man’s company was going to get hand over to her soon, it only made sense for the old man to put someone closer to her age as her mentor 😚 but you were still way older, way more mature—and not only was your position intimidating but also the way you carried yourself inside your job and also outside of it simply made you irresistible to wonyoung… so irresistible that she doesn’t say anything when one day, you put your hand on her thigh while you were teaching her your ‘ways’… and it all starts from there really 😋
she would literally do anything for you once everything was said and done and you’ve got her wrapped around your fingers :(( don’t wear anything underneath her little skirt for easy access? yes, mommy. wear whatever outfit you want her to wear for that day? yes, mommy. carry a vibrator inside her cunt and keep up the ‘good girl’ act no matter how good or bad it feels? yes, mommy. talk properly on the phone while you’re pleasuring her sensitive little clit? yes, mommy.
ah, speaking of “mommy”… it’s like she doesn’t even know your name anymore! pretty thing learned fast… you were fucking her on her bed one day—her laptop and all her paperwork pushed aside haphazardly—and she saw how a sick smile formed on your face when she let “mommy” slip out and ever since then it’s all she called you bcs you loved it… what a good girl 🥺 and wony knows better than to speak long conversations with you in public bcs if a single person in the company even hears her say “mommy” there were going to be a lot of questions… and she knows you had enough on your plate! also loves quickies in a bathroom or a small meeting room bcs she just repeatedly whispers “mommy, mommy!” in your ear and you fuck her so much better each time…
oh you’d just love pushing wony to tears, either by edging her or overstimming her… binding her hands with cuffs or some pretty silk restraints above her head and watching her struggle and cry while you fucked her from behind :(( baby’s big on begging… shaking her head profusely when she thinks she’s had enough, “no! nonono, please, mommy…!” and really, you should feel bad for treating her like a whore but it was her fault! she embarrassed you by failing to impress some colleagues of yours… this was her punishment and she has no choice but to accept it :(( “please, mommy, i’ll be good..! i’ll be a good girl, just—ah!—stop, please…” she’s so desperate since she already came so much but :(( she looks so pretty crying! with her little pout and the tears that fell like a waterfall whenever she squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed… how could you not fuck her the entire night??
you still treat her like royalty, however… she is jang wonyoung after all—it’s what she deserves! singing praises in her ear when you noticed how well she was handling all her work as the soon-to-be president of her grandpa’s company, making sure that she’s all comfortable on your lap while she’s working and pleasuring her gently to ease all her pressure… her reward for doing so well after a long day of work? well, a warm bath and some good ass shower sex ofc! 🫣🫣 only giving wony kisses and a little tease by softly massaging her pretty tits but then as soon as you get to the shower, she’s all marked up and she’s screaming “mommy!” (again) while you fuck her so good against the wall…
now neither of you would even bother getting dressed during nights like those! sitting on wony’s bed with her in between your legs while a movie played on the ridiculously huge tv she had in her room… not like you were paying attention anyway. you’d be peppering wony’s neck with kisses while she giggles.. but as soon as one of your hands sneak in between her legs, wony knows it was going to be another long night with her favourite mommy 🫣💓
#ive smut#ive x reader#ive imagines#ive x fem reader#ive thoughts#jang wonyoung smut#jang wonyoung x fem reader#jang wonyoung x reader#jang wonyoung imagines#jang wonyoung thoughts#girl group x fem reader#girl group x reader#girl group smut#girl group imagines#wonyoung smut#wonyoung imagines#wonyoung x reader#wonyoung x fem reader#wonyoung thoughts
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one of your girls * cs55
you’re just another name in black ink in his long list of girls, and you should know better. so why are you at his apartment in the middle of the night after weeks of radio silence?
pairings: carlos sainz x fem!reader
warnings: implied age gap, suggestive
notes: damn, i be writing anything that relates to all my love life mishaps when i was like 20,,,, daaaaaamn
(f1 masterlist)
you know better than anyone how you shouldn’t be here. you shouldn’t be at the door to his apartment with an overnight bag over your shoulder. you shouldn’t have even picked up the phone when he called you three hours ago.
you think of turning around and making a run for the elevator that’s waiting for a new passenger to transport. but in the empty hallway of carlos’s condo, you try to calm your nerves as you wait.
you wait in clothing that you don't frequent, just to catch his attention. just to keep his attention while you're here with him.
he had bought you a small portion of your wardrobe, something to match what he likes in his typical girls. you're even lucky you'd caught carlos's attention in the first place.
you're not a conventional model, which seems to be his type more often than not. and you simply don't dress the way they do. even showing up here in this has managed to make you feel slightly uncomfortable.
you looked in the mirror before you left your dorm, and you didn't look like yourself. from the mini skirt, down to the way you did your makeup, and the darker shade of lipstick you've put on.
the door finally creaks open, carlos’s head peeking through the gap. one eye is closed, the other barely open from the contrast difference of lighting from inside his apartment to the hallway’s. his hair is a mess, bits and pieces of hair sticking in different directions.
“sorry i took a while,” you drop your head, your hair falling to the sides of your face, “i had to stop to refuel my car. i hope i didn’t make you wait too long.”
he smiles at you, pulling the door open wider to let you in. “it’s okay. i’ve barely been home; i just arrived like… 20 minutes ago.”
“oh,” you slip your shoes off, “i hope you’ve had enough time to settle down then. have you had your dinner?”
this is the cycle every. single. time.
you come over, make some small talk on the couch, before he eventually pounces on you for a long night ahead. and then you wake up in the morning in his arms, his lips peppering light kisses onto your shoulder before he gets up to make you breakfast.
and then you leave. the second you exit that god forsaken condo unit, every sweet nothings exchanged in the heat of the moment is long forgotten.
he will text you once — to bid you safe on your journey home. you will answer him once — to tell him you’ve gotten home safe. that will be the last you hear from him until he goes through all of his races and flies back for his short breaks.
if you’re lucky, he will text you randomly one evening to rant, and maybe even ask you how you are. he will keep the conversation adorable and lighthearted for 5 minutes before he’s reeling you in, just enough to have you craving for his touch for days before he's on his way back.
then he touches down, and texts you to come over.
and he tells you that he likes you, and wants to take it slow, but will never tie you down with a label to make it official. jealousy laces every word when he texts you, following pictures of you flooding your stories with men he's never heard of, but will never be brave enough to say it to your face that it bothers him.
maybe that’s why you keep doing it. maybe that’s why you never call him out on it.
it could be the superiority he knows he has over you: he’s got enough experience to drag you around for months at a time and knows how to keep you wanting more without calling him out.
he shakes his head with a small smile, keeping his distance and standing by the door leading to his kitchen. “i just ordered some food right before you came. 20 minutes,” he tells you, “would you like some water?”
“iced, please,” you reply softly, putting your bag right by the couch as you take a seat.
“of course.”
he disappears into the kitchen, giving you the time to scan his apartment and how much it’s changed in the month you haven’t been in it. not much, really. just that his luggage is now in the corner with a backpack opened, clothes spilling out of it.
maybe it’s also your inability to know when to stop. is it because carlos makes you feels so good? is it the pride of knowing older men are into you that makes you want to stay?
but you feel like a kid, waiting by the door for him to welcome you with open arms. otherwise, he shuns you away until he remembers your existence.
“here you go.” his hand ruffles your hair slightly, putting the cup of water into your hands. “how was the drive here?”
only then you notice that he’s not wearing a shirt. but you also notice the fading spot of purple right by his collarbone and you feel your arms go cold, your grip tightening around the cup.
any more and you’re sure it would shatter.
you’re not the only one; of course, how could you have ever thought that? you’re just one of his girls when he decides.
when he needs someone to talk to, you’re one of his platonic friends — his homies, as some refer to it. he will never be as attached to you as you are to him.
you’re just another name in black ink in his long list of girls.
you lift the cup to your lips, quickly chugging half of the cup down. your eyes never leave the dark spot on his skin, a reminder to yourself with every second that you’re no different to the next girl he will be calling in the next city he’ll be prancing to after this.
you lick your lips. “it was okay. not many cars on the road.”
he finally notices your stare, his hand quickly coming up to cover the spot. your eyes trail up to meet his as he shrugs. “the team and i went to play paintball a while ago. i’ve got crazy bruises that haven’t healed yet.”
he lifts his arm to reveal another spot, slightly darker this time, on the side of his stomach. you hadn’t noticed it earlier from his arm covering it.
his excuse surprisingly makes you feel lighter, the nauseating thought of carlos with another girl in bed suddenly seeming like an absurd accusation. but you mustn’t forget the facts of the matter: you’re just another girl to him.
and he does not care about you. at least, not like that. he only puts up a front to get what he wants before he tosses you aside for another something of weeks.
"you look amazing, babe," carlos mutters, his eyes trailing down to the skirt that's hiked up your thighs. the garter on your thigh peeks out ever so slightly, prompting a shakey sigh to pass his lips as he meets your eyes again. "love the skirt."
"thank you," you answer in a small voice, looking down at his fingers tracing shapes over your exposed chest. your breath staggers as he goes down further towards your cleavage.
he glances at your lips, slowly leaning in. he wraps his hand over yours to take the cup into his hands. he slowly puts it down on the floor, a couple of steps away from either of you.
"you look so so hot," he mutters under his breath. his hand snakes up your inner thigh, leaning in towards your neck. there's a ringing in your ear as he comes closer.
his lips hover above yours, "i can't wait to have you."
~✨🏎✨~
you lay on your back and stare up at the ceiling, your hand resting above the other on your stomach. next to you is carlos, the duvet draped over his waist loosely with his phone in his hands.
you glance at him, acknowledging the soft hands that massage the top of your head. you've just finished eating together and you feel the aftereffects of the amount of food you gobbled down together.
the entire conversation you had, talking about his race weekends and your days in school was lighthearted
"i should go," you sigh, pushing yourself up off the bed. you reach for your bag, sitting under his nightstand to fish for a new shirt.
"what?" you hear shuffling behind you and the only source of light in the room goes out. "you're going? but you usually stay the night."
you can almost notice the disappointment that laces his words. if you didn't know any better, you might have folded and crawled back into that bed with him.
you nod, eyes focusing on passing through the darkness to fathom which article of clothing you're taking out of your bag. "yeah, but i've got class early tomorrow. i really can't afford to be late."
"i can send you early if you want. sleep in the car - i'll drive you," he offers.
you give him a small smile, briefly looking at him before returning your focus to getting dressed to leave. "it's alright, really. i'm carpooling with josh."
your heart starts to race in your chest, feeling heavy as you hear carlos move about some more behind you. "does this josh guy like you or something?" he asks. "why is it that every time i ask you about school, he always comes up?"
you're lying, of course. you don't have to be on campus until the end of the week but you just cannot spend another moment in this suffocating apartment where you play the part of a naive pawn in his games. but he doesn't have to know that.
because you should know better.
your frustration grows, a mix of the darkness limiting your vision and simply having this conversation. you just wanted to find the shirt you packed and be out of here.
"i saw your pictures when you went out the other night. you guys looked awfully snuggly with one another," he adds. "you're telling me that he's not interested in you like that?"
"why's that matter?" you ask, turning your head to give him a stare.
it's only then you notice that carlos, amidst all that conversation, has crawled out of bed. he's now half-dressed with his shorts pulled up his legs, tied together with the string to hold it up. you can barely make out his figure in the dark, the only light coming from the streets.
"exactly. it shouldn't," you mutter, turning away from him once more.
you grunt and finally pull out something from your bag, which seems to be a pair of shorts. that's not what you wanted. you slam it into the ground and continue to dig for a shirt.
"not to you, at least," you add in a whisper, eyebrows furrowing as you furiously search through all the contents of your bag. which surprisingly is a lot more than you remembered packing.
"come on, don't be like that," he sighs. you hear footsteps approaching you, making you turn to hold a hand up to keep him away.
you almost feel guilty, his words weighing your chest down.
he stops just a couple of steps from you and throws his hands up in the air. "it shouldn't matter to you what i'm doing during the days that i don't exist to you," you huff.
you scramble to your feet, walking past him to switch on the lights, overwhelming you both with the change. when you pass him once more to finish your mission of getting your shirt, he plants a firm grip on your elbow and yanks you back into him.
"why are you being like this?" he asks gently, eyebrows met in the middle as concern washes his face. concern or jealousy? or the realisation that you're finally coming to your senses? "what's wrong?"
"that's," you pause to take your arm out from his grip, "really none of your business."
you roll your eyes as you see your shirt on the floor next to your bag. it must have fallen out when you moved it into the bedroom after the food arrived. you pick it up swiftly and pull it down your head.
"seriously. don't pretend to care," you chuckle dryly, now turning to him with furrowed eyebrows. "it won't do you any good. i'm so tired of you doing this to me, carlos!"
you whirl around and get your shorts off the floor, pulling them up your legs.
he sighs, "it's complicated right now, babe. just stay and let's talk about it."
"there is nothing to talk about," you say calmly, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. when you open them, his brown eyes are staring directly into yours. if you hadn't come to your rude awakening during your drive here, it's easy to get lost in his eyes. they shine differently from others, wide and welcoming, and- no.
"(y/n)..."
"i'm too young for this, you know? wasting my youth on somebody who only wants me in the middle of the night every couple of weeks?" you pick up your bag and sling it over your shoulder. "plenty of men are in line for me and i'm just letting you throw me around like a piece of meat? just who the hell do you think you are?"
he runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the roots. you almost recognise the way he's trying to claw his brain for a lie to tell you. but you just roll your eyes.
"dude, i don't know what's going on with you," you sigh tiredly, looking down at his carpeted floor, "but i don't want to play whatever game it is you're making me play."
"there's no game," he mutters, eyes trailing down to stare at the ground. "please, just give me time to figure it out. it's messy right now."
"i've given you time to figure it out," you take a step forward, "i don't have forever and a day to wait around for you."
he doesn't answer, just drops his hands to his side as he stares at you. you push yourself past him, shaking your head. who were you to think that finally speaking up about this would change the course of things?
this is how it's meant to be: he's just simply too different for you to end up together. he's got the glitz and glamour with girls tripping over their own feet to get his attention. but you just want a quiet life, and to live out your years without regret.
continuing whatever arrangement you've got with him will not be the answer to what it is you want.
he sighs. "i'll call you."
"no, you won't."
#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x you#f1 x reader#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz fanfiction#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1
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