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chuluoyi · 4 months

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the secret wife

- nanami kento x reader

follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is

note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...

“Hello? Yuji—”

Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.

“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”

Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.

“Oh? What's—”

“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”

And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—

—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.

“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.

Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...

Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.

And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.

“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.

One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.

“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”

And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.

But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.

And did he feel so miserable afterwards.

. . .

“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”

Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.

"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."

"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"

"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."

And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”

"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"

"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"

Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—

"I'm going after them!"

"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"

Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.

Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.

Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.

The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.

"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"

Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.

"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"

"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"

Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"

With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?

Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"

And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."

"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.

"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"

After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.

"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"

"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"

"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.

"Eh? Huh!?"

Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—

Crash!

"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.

"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"

"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"

"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.

Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."

"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.

Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.

It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.

Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"

Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.

“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”

“S-so you are married!”

“Yes, that was what I—”

“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”

Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.

Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”

“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”

“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.

"Aren't we friends?! How—!"

"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.

Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.

"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"

"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.

Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.

There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.

"Gojo," Megumi blurted.

"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.

Epilogue

"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"

That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.

"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"

You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."

Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."

"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."

"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.

"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”

Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.

"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"

"People like Gojo are confused—"

Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."

#nanami kento x reader #jjk fluff #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento #jjk x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 9 months

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GUINEA PIG ───

jonathan crane ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I think we most fully understood each other when once I tried to kill him with a kitchen knife.” — ‘South and West’, Joan Didion

pairing. switch!jonathan crane x professor!reader

summary. you and your dear friend, jonathan crane, have an odd relationship: he experiments on you, you experiment on him. one day, you experiment your aphrodisiac on him.

warnings. swearing, use of aphrodisiac & fear toxin, oral sex (m), unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, mention of death, murder, drugs, multiple orgasms, slight breeding kink, face fucking, dubcon(?) SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 6.1k

a/n. the enemies to friends to fucking pipeline is sooo real and i love it. BTW! this is really self indulgent and again, i’m a beginner to writing smut so pls don’t judge😭 the beginning is also oddly plotty, so i apologize for that.

You and your colleague, Jonathan Crane, have a harmonious, albeit slightly sick and twisted, relationship.

Your repertoires, opposite in every way, complete one another like you were made to match. You are messy, frenzied, intimate; he is neat, calculated, distant. He is impatient, histrionic, stubborn. You are tolerant, deadpan, submissive.

This is an odd, good-cop bad-cop dynamic you’ve built, but it works. Your traits uphold the order you’ve built around yourselves; you allow each other to function.

Who ever said something so codependent, so parasitic, would fall apart? That it was dangerous, destructive? Everyone, but in your case, it has been anything but.

These are the simple rules of your relationship: he experiments on you, you experiment on him. This partnership came to bloom when, after years of competing to be the “better” psychology professor at Gotham University, he sent you a gift that sprayed with you with fear toxin, and you baked him a cake that knocked him out for 24 hours following, heart rate so low he could’ve been mistaken as dead.

“Fucking - hell,” You murmured under your breath, stumbling halfway across Gotham City to locate Crane’s absurdly lavish condo in the Diamond District, barely able to keep yourself upright.

You were being visually assaulted by dozens of images, all your phobias no matter big or small, dancing across your senses. Spiders crawled all over your body, you saw yourself about to step off a steep, snowy cliff, you felt yourself suffocate as you were buried to death in a casket. It was utter torture, and you would have to endure it until you found Crane.

You must’ve looked like one of those tweaking drug addicts from down in the Narrows, shivering, sweating, and rubbing all over your body to remove some of the “spiders” taking over your body. The terror was settling into you, into your spine like a terribly malignant disease.

At last, you found the apartment building, blearily snuck in behind a drunk couple, and scanned the mail boxes until you found J. CRANE: 525.

You headed up the elevator, grasping at the walls for dear life, feeling that growing, unmistakable sense of dread start to take over your mind. You felt like you were going mad, now, not just afflicted with something that made you look like it.

When you finally got to his door, it was left open a crack, and you welcomed the small mercy of Crane’s overarching narcissism: he didn’t lock his door, often, because most days he felt more invincible than fucking god.

“Crane!” You shouted, clutching at your head and staggering into his large apartment. “Crane!” you repeated, this time more desperate, more fearful than anything.

However, your deepest fear, at the moment, had come true. You stepped into his kitchen, and found the man laying on the floor unresponsive.

“Fuck me,” you cursed. You’d sent the man home with the cake twelve hours ago, when he took the half-day off from GSU, and you came home from your after-class tutoring hours just moments ago.

You’d opened the mystery package on your front porch promptly, and you found yourself having been gassed with a compound that made you see every little thing you were afraid of. Immediately, you’d known it was Crane; the man’s pet specialty was fear.

As for you, you wanted your… gift, to serve a reminder to him that he should not overstep your boundaries, your territory, as the psychology professor who was there first. If knocking him out was a little bit mad, he was bordering insanity for the toxin he poisoned you with.

Even so, your threat was an empty one. You weren’t counting on the man to even eat the cake - hell, you’d never seen the man consume anything but straight black coffee.

You couldn’t judge a book by its cover, you know now, and laid there on the couch of his apartment, waiting for the twelve hours to be over. Waiting for Crane, the fucking madman, to wake the hell up, blaming him for the predicament despite your very obvious involvement in it.

You breathed in and out, harried and rapid fire as you tried to focus, tried to block out the horrific things you were seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting.

(Your eyes are swarmed, viscerally, by a grotesque hallucination of your family burning to death; you hear them cry out, voices interrupted when they’re fire gets to their lungs; you smell their death, the smell of flesh burning, how the smoke chokes you — you taste their blood on your tongue, how tender a raging fire makes charred flesh.

Tender, you think on your choice of words again, and almost throw up.

What have you done, you think, and what is going through that fucked up head of yours, Crane?)

You tried to ground yourself, tether your lost mind back to Earth. You’re sitting in a field in Northwestern Ireland, you said to yourself, inhaling. Up ahead is the beach; water is crashing on the rocks. You exhaled, the wind tastes like salt, and it is just you and I, here together. It is only I and you, here, together.

Like so, 12 hours passed. Not so much passed — that word gave the connotation the hours slipped past you, the way a peaceful stream of water does; no, more accurately, it dragged by, like when an arm slips out of the ambulance cot on its way to the emergency vehicle, and drags on the concrete. The EMT’s don’t notice what’s making their trip so hard, so slow, until the hand is rubbed raw and bloody.

You repeated that mantra so many times you were starting to get queasy when you thought the words “you’re sitting in a field..” but nonetheless, the string of words kept you sane.

Sane enough, at least - you weren’t sure you’d be the same blissful person you were yesterday. Sure, you were always a little bit… unorthodox? Petty? Competitive enough to bake so many drugs into a cake your opposing professor knocks out?

But, with this — this being drugged by Crane — made you feel a piece of yourself break away. There would be no more of your life lived without knowing how fearful, well, fear, is. It's like discovering the Boogeyman and never being able to stop checking under your bed; the paranoia moves into your head and never leaves.

Crane began stirring, and your eyes opened as soon as you heard the noise. Surprisingly enough, however, you were no longer being hammered with the hallucinations that had been distressing you just half a day ago.

Had it been the mantra? The near-prayer you now swore was etched on your heart?

“Fucking…” Crane said, getting up off the floor. He was clutching his head, eyes squinted, body hunched and tense. Looks like spending half a day on the floor wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but you didn’t give a fuck — atleast he was sleeping. If you had to be mentally destroyed by his toxin, you’d best believe you were taking the couch.

“Why - why are you here? What the hell did you do to me?” He said after noticing you, voice raspy. He hadn’t had anything to drink or eat in a while, after all.

“I could say the fucking same for you,” You muttered, giving him a pointed look. “You - what the fuck did you spray me with?”

Immediately, a twisted grin was bared on Crane’s lips, despite his fatigued demeanor. “Did you like it? My fear-toxin,” he preened, like the winning kid at a school science fair.

You rolled your eyes, and before you could control your tendencies, you’d swung back and then socked him straight in the face.

Crane double-backed, looking terribly affronted, as if he hadn’t sent you the gas knowing how it would affect you. “Ow,” is all he said, face contorting oddly around the pain.

“Yeah, “ow”. Fuck you, Crane.”

Crane raised a brow. “You’re acting like you didn’t feed me a poisoned cake!” He said incredulously.

“It wasn’t that poisoned,” you bit out, teeth gritted. “Not so poisoned I was hallucinating my family dying for twelve hours straight.”

“Ah, thanatophobia, not really one of my favourites—“ Crane started, like he was losing himself in a romantic daydream, before snapping back to reality. “Did you just say twelve hours?”

“Twelve hours for me. Twenty-four for you.” You said, reveling in how panicked he looked.

“I — that’s long enough for me to be killed a hundred times over,” he mumbled under his breath. “What the fuck did you put in that cake?”

“I never expected you to eat it, Crane. You’re fucking skin and bones, I thought you’d just throw it out.”

“What did you put in the cake?” he repeated.

“Ugh,” you sunk into the couch, “some amytal, zolpidem. Some melatonin. I didn’t measure, okay, and again, I wasn’t counting on you eating it.” You didn’t know why you had this urging feeling to respond to him, to humor his jabs, his dumb fucking theatrics, but you did anyway.

“Some amytal? Some zolpidem? Some melatonin? Jesus fucking christ - is that what you wanted? To kill me?” He was leaning down, face inches away from yours now.

You pushed him away, disgust on your features clear as day. “Shut the fuck up. I’m not some sociopathic fear-freak like you, Crane. I don’t mix compounds in my creepy little office with the thought of drugging out my fellow professor in mind. It was just an empty threat.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh, “Mixing barbiturates and medications into a cake sounds like an empty threat to you?”

“You know what?” You said brightly, getting up off the couch, “I don’t have to argue with you. I came to get my cure, woke up having cured myself.” Then, you burst out the door, fury rolling off you in waves, and you left.

There was something about the incident, however, that seemed to intrigue Crane to no end. Soon enough, he began entering your office during your breaks, asking to have a chat. Or, he’d walk in during your lessons, forcing you two in the hall alone. Sometimes, he’d even wait for you after school, dozing off in front of your classroom and waiting for you to exit your office.

You couldn’t tell what was making Crane so interested, but he was hanging off you and your every word like some lovesick puppy.

You, on the other hand, also couldn’t get Crane out of your head. Certainly not for some weird, fucked up reason like his, but because of what he had created. A lot of people doubted his intelligence, mostly because of his obsession on things nobody really cared about, but that obsession made way to the destructive fear-toxin you’d inhaled, and it was seriously unlike anything you’d ever experienced, hell, even read about. It was a brand new creation, and downright deadly.

Your interest in the man was more so on… keeping him in check. As rivals did. But his was on how you’d breezed past the effects of his toxin in just twelve hours. He’s expected you to go half mad, honestly. Your threat was empty… his was, decidedly, not.

By the end of the next week following the incident, you two began eating lunch together, asking for joint classes, and spending nights over at each other's places. Not in that way, of course — your way was like a group of scientists having a forever eureka, because your minds fit like perfect puzzle pieces.

Your intrigue had met his intrigue, and it felt natural, coming to a united front like that. You found you had more in common than you thought, something you should’ve found out about a long time ago, 3 ½ years kind of long time ago. Apart, you two were volatile; angry, spewing threats, attempting murder on the other. Together, however, you were absolute perfection: productive, well-mannered, motivated.

Now, fast-forward coming on two years since the incident. You and Crane - now, Jonathan, have been inseparable since that time. You two were close, closer than siblings or children and parents or couples; you felt like the same person that had been split into two. Being together was the only thing that felt right, being back at the origin, like being at home.

Fuck’s sakes, you did have the same home — you’d moved in together. Not to his, nor yours, but to a big house you bought on the outskirts of Gotham, with a big yard and an even bigger lab in the basement. It was like a scientist's amusement park.

Maybe it - this relationship of yours - was codependency. But maybe it was utter genius: your careers had both never seen so many accomplishments until you and Jonathan came together. Partly because you had a greater inspiration when coupled with the other, but, mostly because you had a body to test on during preliminary trials.

Creating things, like the fear-toxin, required human testing, and finding a way to get that done always slowed Jonathan down. Since finding you, however, it’d been a breeze.

You offered yourself up readily, given Jonathan would do the same. And, besides, Jonathan had never been worried about you and his toxin very much — after that first time you took the toxin, you could easily find yourself out of its effects. You were the only person he’d ever encountered who could do this, and it was downright fascinating. He wanted to keep you, see how that strong little mind of yours worked overtime to fight his toxin off.

You, on the other hand, rarely tested anything like that on Jonathan. Your interests lied elsewhere: what smells activate the human mind to recall memories, what are ways to accurately fight off drugs like GHB — all mental stimulation.

That, however, changed one evening, when you had been brewing up a serum for the past few weeks. You’d gotten to the point in creation where you needed to test on someone, and observe the effects.

“Jonathan,” you called out, looking down at your notes. The man in question was grading assignments for the psychology class you taught — now, in joint lessons more often than not — sitting at a desk a few metres away from you in the lab.

“Jonathan!” you repeated louder this time, looking up from your notes.

“What?” He shouted back, still hunched over on the ungodly amount of assignments he needed to mark.

“Come here. I need to test something on you.” You said, nonchalant.

That, however, piqued Jonathan’s interest to no end: you hadn’t tested anything on him in nearly a year. It hurt, a little, to test you endlessly and have nothing to give in return - so this, no matter what it was, Jonathan would take in stride.

Jonathan nodded vehemently, “Okay.” He then dropped all he’d been doing on the desk and made his way over, before sitting in the chair next to you. You made quick work, tying his arms and legs to the chair like he’d done to you so many times before. He watched you work, completely enraptured in how you looked while experimenting.

“So,” He said, tearing his sticky gaze off of you, “what’re you pumping me full of?”

You sat back in your desk chair and scratched your cheek, a little unsure how to say this. “Well, I created a serum that, once injected, would lower or lose all inhibitions of the victim. They’d be completely malleable, agreeable, if you just, um,” you fanned yourself, feeling a little too close to the man in front of you, room feeling incredibly warm.

“Just what?” He pried, leaning back in his chair.

You exhaled shakily, “if you just promise to - to provide relief to them. Sexual - relief.”

Jonathan let out an incredulous laugh. “You made a working aphrodisiac?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t exactly — I don’t even know if it works, for sure. If you don’t want to- take it, then you don’t have to.” You offered up weakly.

“How d’you get it out of the system?” He said instead, ignoring your words and picking up the needle you had ready for him on your worktable, which was filled with a thick, pink liquid.

You flushed. “You, um, help the victim relieve themselves, until the feeling is gone.”

Jonathan looked up at you, a sly smirk on his lips. “And you were going to give this to me?”

You turned away, face red, exasperated. “I told you, you don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”

“And let you pleasure some random guy you snatched off the street? No way,” he said, before you heard a familiar prick, small whine leaving Jonathan’s mouth.

You spun back around so fast you thought you got whiplash. “Jonathan, wait—“ you said, alarmed. You were really, seriously, considering not giving the aphrodisiac to him — it would disrupt the careful balance you and he had built over the past years.

You were afraid that if he took the serum, and let you, for lack of a better word, get him off, you wouldn’t be able to look at him without remembering him needy, hot and bothered, calling your name out like it was the only word he knew.

He’d done it anyway, though. And now, you both just had to get through this… experiment.

Quickly, you grabbed your pen and notebook, ready to approach this scenario as detached and clinically as possible, ignoring the pulsing need in your insides as you saw Jonathan’s face slowly contort into a warm, heavy-lidded lustful one.

“How do you feel, Jonathan?” You said, standing further away from him so he couldn’t so much as feel your body heat on him.

“I…” Jonathan blinked rapidly, licking his lips, looking you up and down. “Warm. I just feel… warm.” He readjusted in the seat, unable to sit still. “And - kind of, tingly? Like I - well, I don’t know…”

You noted his words, as well as some of your own observations: his pupils were dilated, so much so the crystalline blue of his eyes were merely slivers, his lips were pursed, plump, and he was pink all over; pink cheeks, pink ears, pink neck. He was talkative, loose-lipped and a little out of it.

You inhaled, then exhaled, before starting the next phase of the experiment. “Jonathan, how do you feel when I touch you here?” You said, raising the back of your hand to caress his cheek.

Jonathan was affected almost immediately, eyes shutting tight. “It feels,” he said breathily, leaning into your touch, “ah… nice. Good.”

You nodded, promptly pulling away as soon as he’d finished his sentence. Subject enjoys physical touch. Jonathan then peered up at you, looking slightly… disappointed?

You shook yourself, getting back on task. “How do you feel now?” You pried, noticing he looked far more affected than before.

Beads of sweat were dripping from his forehead, making his wavy brown hair stick to his skin. He was breathing heavily, and, when you had touched him, he was extremely warm, like he had a fever.

“I’m, I…” Jonathan trailed off, eyes shutting, shaking his head. “Mmm… my head feels — fuzzy,” he bit out raspily.

“Okay. Good. It's exactly as I thought,” you murmured, continuing to scratch down notes.

You ignored him for a few minutes, writing up a list of side effects and observed results of the aphrodisiac. Then, your gaze drew back to him, who had been focussing intently on you the whole time.

“Jonathan?” you called out quietly, seeing his dazed expression. “Talk to me.”

Jonathan shuddered, leaning forward in the chair, head hanging low, “My - my body’s, hnngh… it feels— feels weird.” He bit his lip, face screwed up and tense. “I’m warm all over…”

His shoulders were hunched in, and he was trembling. You lifted a hand up to his head, petting him softly, carding your fingers through his hair.

“Ah…” Jonathan squeaked out at your touch, face going slack, “I feel like I need you to - to…” he sighed exasperatedly, “I need you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek conflictedly. On one hand, you needed to finish up a few more tests, meaning Jonathan would be teased - or tortured, depending on how fast the aphrodisiac was affecting him - a little longer. On the other hand, he was already a breathy mess, begging for your touch. For you.

“Fuck,” you murmured, turning away from the man who’s eyes were practically rolling into the back of his head at the way you tugged at his locks. “No, no,” you fought your internal struggle. You would not give in to his pleas - you would finish this experiment.

“Okay. Okay.” you said to no-one but yourself, extracting your hand from his velvet soft hair. “Let’s be professional about this. Jonathan, I’m going to take your clothes off, but you can’t move, and you can’t touch me, okay?”

Jonathan’s breathing became more labored as you spoke, and you swore you could see desperate tears filling his eyes. “I can’t- I can’t touch you? But… but why not?” He was practically whining for you.

“Because, Jonathan, it wouldn’t be beneficial to the experiment.” You didn’t look your partner in the eye, because his complete and total change in behavior had you feeling, quite frankly, as warm as him.

You continued by undoing the restraints on his arms and legs, and his sharp intakes of breath as your fingers brushed past his skin didn’t slip past you. Not at all.

Firstly, you undid the man’s white button-up shirt slipping it past his flushed torso. Jonathan’s skin was actually pink and warm all over, and he was breathing heavily now, gripping the chair so tight his knuckles were white.

“Are you okay, Jonathan?” you asked absently, as you began unbuckling his belt and slipping down his fly.

Jonathan’s breath hitched in his throat, and he didn’t answer you, biting down on his lower lip to stop any desperate moans from escaping him.

You finally finished undressing your partner, then redid his restraints, before you stepped back to see him fully. Jonathan was shivering, faint tear tracks on his pink cheeks, head cocked back.

“It’s just - one, or two more tests, Jonathan.” You murmured quietly, kneeling down in front of him.

Your hands pressed flat on his thighs, rubbing him up and down, grazing your fingers lightly on his feverish skin. You had to regularly ground yourself, stop yourself from inching up to the poor, untouched tent in his boxer shorts.

Above you, you could hear Jonathan let out a low groan, “Ah, hnng— please,” he called out to no-one in particular.

“Does that - feel good, Jonathan?” You ask, getting back up on your feet. His desperate groans were getting to you now, how needy his little keens were.

“So - good,” he panted. “Your— you, I want— need, I need…” he trailed off, babbling, lost to the pleasure of your touch.

“Jonathan, if I… touched you more, would you do anything for me?” You said finally. The invention of the aphrodisiac was intended to sway someone's motivations, make them bend to your will. Sure, there was that added sexual aspect, but it was created with less… pleasurable intentions.

“Anything, anything at all,” he said deliriously, rolling his head around. “Jus’… just need you to- touch me.”

“Would you give yourself fear-toxin, Jonathan?”

“Yes! Yes, just — please… please! Stop asking me— questions… I need you so fucking bad, ah…”

“Jesus,” you said. Your aphrodisiac was stronger than you thought. You were satisfied, however, with the results of it. The first trial was a success, and you saw how you could use this on anyone - even people in particular positions of power, and get them to do your bidding. Quite helpful, indeed.

Now, you needed to… get Jonathan out of this state. By, ah, relieving him.

You had decided to do this, to test him, so you had to be responsible and help ease him out of this experiment. Quickly, you stripped your own clothing, even your underwear, before undoing the restraints on his arms and legs.

Jonathan’s eyes widened as he watched you undress. “Are you - are you… gonna t—touch me? Now? Please?” He practically begged, almost drooling at the sight of your naked body.

“Mhm,” you said, a tremble in your voice. “Gon’ help you get out of this.”

Then, you climbed onto Jonathan’s lap, shutting your eyes as you felt his hard cock within his boxer shorts slide between your legs deliciously.

He let out a guttural groan as your weight pressed down on him, feeling your wetness soak his shorts. That measly piece of fabric was all that was keeping him from entering your plush, velvet folds, and he was going practically insane at the feeling.

“M’god,” Jonathan whined out, leaning his sweaty head on your shoulder. “Y’feel so, a—ah, good…”

You couldn’t help the breezy laugh that made its way out of you. “I haven’t even touched you yet, Jonathan, and you’re already so worked up,” you whispered in his ear, hot breath fanning on his warm skin.

“P-pleeeease,” He begged, slowly grinding into you. Jonathan was barely coherent, mind just focussed on chasing the release he so desperately needed.

You raised a brow, but complied, slipping your warm hands down his boxer shorts and pulling his thick length out. You pumped him lazy, feeling how he writhed under you, tasteful whimpers slipping out of his mouth.

After another second of you stroking him lightly, your thumb grazing past the tip and collected a decent amount of precum, he actually did come, wet hot load spurting upwards on his chest and your face. “Ah - hnngh, oh my — oh my god,” he drooled, jutting into your hand.

It dripped down from your cheek onto your lips, and Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut, losing himself in the pleasure. You swiped a handful of his cream off your face, before covering his still hard, curved cock with it.

“You’re not done, aren’t you?” You said to him quietly, his hips stuttering as you artfully smeared his come on himself. Jonathan was arching into your touch, completely putty in your hands.

“Nuh- no, m’still— still need you, need you so bad.” he whimpered shamefully, hands stuck to your waist.

“Look at you go,” you found yourself cooing, dragging a creamy hand down his equally as creamy chest, your fingernails grazing him. “Let me take care of you.”

Then, you lifted yourself up off his lap, and carefully situated your slit on the tip of his head. “Christ,” you called out as you slid down, “you’re fucking big,”

Inch by inch, you took him, and Jonathan’s eyes were rolling into the back of his head, a string of senseless groans and whines leaving his mouth. “Feels so warm, so so warm,” he choked out at last, looking at you adoringly.

You started to lift out of him, your cunt stinging slightly at the sheer size of his cock, when you felt a heated liquid shoot through you, Jonathan’s knees buckling under your ass.

He’d come, again, even before you could get started. You shook your head incredulously at the terribly horny man beneath you, eyes glazed over in the pure ecstasy he was feeling.

“Stop, fucking — coming,” you scolded, bottoming his cock into you once more, “you’re gonna get me so — ah— fucking - pregnant if you keep coming.”

“Sorry,” Jonathan said sheepishly, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “Can’t help it— you feel so — hnngh — feel so good.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, then focussed on getting a good pace of sliding in and out, your hips rolling deeper and deeper into his own. You were bouncing quickly on his cock, dick-riding him like you’d never done before.

With all other sexual partners you had, they wanted to be all vanilla, always just missionary, going slow until they were close, no sense of creativity or any other wishes that just feeling you. With Jonathan - especially in the state he was in now - you could do whatever you wanted, as long as his cock was in your cunt.

“Good — god,” you screamed out, when Jonathan suddenly gained control over himself and snapped into you, rough hands pinching the flesh of your hips. He rutted into you, hard and fast, for a moment like that continually, before his control melted once more into nothingness, and all he could do was let you take the reins.

“Please— how’re you so — ah, how does your pussy feel so good…” he murmured, trailing off into a high-pitched moan when you pulled out, then just as fast sunk down on him.

Jonathan’s fingers trailed up your body, rubbing at your soft flesh, before they found your breasts, kneading you tenderly. He chanced several licks on both your erect nipples, and you shuddered, tightening around him. Your cunt was sucking him in, devouring his length no matter how big he was, and he could feel how his length was stretching your walls wide open.

“So fucking big.” You panted, arms wrapping around his neck, “fat fucking cock all needy, just me.”

“Jus’… just for you! All - ah, all for you,” Jonathan repeated with a squeak, lips bitten delicately between his teeth.

Your hands trailed all over his body, and as the pleasure was getting to you, making your head dizzy and your thoughts foggy, you bounced down on him and your nails scratched up his back, surely leaving small wounds.

This miniscule amount of pain seemed to amplify Jonathan’s endless pleasure, and you could feel him pumping you full of his come once again, the tip of his dick pressed flush against your cervix. His come made you feel so full, fuller than you already did with his monstrous cock nestled into you, continually rubbing up on the toe-curlingly spongy spot in your cunt every time you pushed him back in.

“Mmf,” Jonathan groaned, pleasure muffling whatever he was was going to say, “m’gonna… gonna get you pregnant,”

“Yeah?” You breathed out, squeezing your eyes shut, “Is that what this needy cock wants? To get my wet cunt full and me pregnant?”

“Yes, yes, hnngh, please, wanna come - wanna come more,” Jonathan cried out.

“‘kay, okay,” you nodded vehemently, “then make this pussy feel good.”

Then, you slid out with a whimper, two loads worth of come spilling out of your worn-out cunt, turning around so your ass would face him, before you sunk back down on him. You were chasing your own pleasure now, the unmistakable feeling rumbling within your lower stomach.

Jonathan was completely fucked out, just a shaking, hot and bothered mess on the sticky wooden chair you’d both occupied, but he still welcomed your warm pussy back on him with open arms. Your folds beat any other cunt he’d ever been in, and he knew nothing, not even his own hand, could match up to how addicting you were, how delectably you took him.

The new angle had you reeling, your hands gripping Jonathan’s thighs for some much-needed support. You were buckling, getting weaker with every bounce, but were still desperate for release. It affected Jonathan too, and he was pressing his face up against your hair, biting down lightly on your shoulder to collect himself despite the earth-shattering pleasure you were inflicting on him.

Your fleshy cunt met his rock-solid cock every moment perfectly, and soon enough your back was arching, head leaning back on Jonathan’s shoulder. That knot in your stomach was tightening, a fire burning within you and begging you not to stop.

Jonathan’s needy hands were coursing all over your body, rubbing on you in all the right places, and when his calloused fingers began pinching and twisting at your sensitive nipples, you saw white. That burning feeling dragged across your entire body, your jaw tensing, and you felt positively fuzzy, pure pleasure destroying all coherent thoughts you’d been having, your mind now focussed on the insane way he made you orgasm.

There was nothing that could compare to how you felt now, this being the hardest you’d orgasmed in your entire life. There was just something about Jonathan — be it how unbelievably big he was, or perhaps the odd tension that surrounded you two for the past few years — that made this experience ten times, no, a hundred times, better.

It was like his dick had been artfully crafted to stretch you out and stuff you full; that thick cock, made just for you.

In place of your weakening strength, Jonathan kept his hand tweaking your breast, and his other hand gripped your hip tightly, helping you bounce up and down on his cock. Thus, the pleasure was maximized by his touch, and you rode out your high like that for a few more long moments.

You stayed there, on his lap panting and drooling, for a few more seconds, before you climbed off of him, grimacing at the loss of his sweet cock in you.

You stood shakily, feeling his come ooze out of your sticky hole, and you were surprised to see that Jonathan was still hard. He was panting, head leaning against the chair, hands and legs trembling, but his dick could probably still pump out another round of come.

You did always wondering how he’d taste, and after seeing how long and thick he was, you wanted to know if his dick could make you cry, too. So, you kneeled down on the cold floor, pulling him by the ankles a little further off the chair, so you could get better access to him, and buried your pretty little head between his shaking thighs.

“What’re you— doing?” Jonathan said blearily, but before he could continue, your soft lips wrapped around him, and your tongue began artfully swiveling his sensitive head.

The loudest moan you’d heard so far was drawn out of Jonathan, and more, similar noises came out of him. It was nonsensical, and unintelligible, but you could tell he was having the time of his life — as if he hadn’t just orgasmed three times prior.

You started slowly, mouth taking his cock until you felt like you couldn’t anymore, before forcing past that point and making yourself take him to the back of your throat. Tears lined the rims of your eyes, your head swimming from lack of oxygen, but you couldn’t help how badly you wanted to hear him whimper and whine out from how good you were servicing him, his pretty groans reaching your ears like music.

You pulled his cock out of your mouth when you felt like you were going to pass out, and then you began lapping up at his cock, sucking and curving your tongue around his long length. You sucked him hard and fast, and then, his hands grappled at your hair.

At this point, you believed the aphrodisiac was wearing off, and Jonathan, now a little more clearheaded, began face fucking you, filling your sweet mouth full with his filthy cock. He couldn’t resist doing so, especially with you looking up at him through your tear-stained lashes, hollowing out your cheeks and gripping his thighs like your life depended on it.

You gagged on him, several times, but he didn’t care, and with a jolted thrust past your swollen lips, he came, squirting all he had left down your throat. You sucked and swallowed every drop of him into your mouth, loving the taste of his salty liquid.

Now, you were both fucked out, beyond tired, the strain on your muscles settling in. Your core had been properly exercised, what with how many times you rutted into Jonathan, and he, similarly, had a strained back with how much he arched into your touch, his aphrodisiac-clouded mind wanting nothing more but to be touched by you.

“Good god, woman,” Jonathan said, collapsing into the wooden chair, which was sticky with sweat, come and your cunt’s soaking wetness. “You could’ve just said you wanted to fuck,”

You panted, dropping down onto the cold floor beneath you and wincing. “We’re — we were, just friends.”

He waved away your words, “We live together, darling. Not quite sure if that's “just” friends.”

You looked up at him, before laughing agreeably. “Felt good though, didn’t it?” A smug grin made its way on your lips, remembering how submissive Jonathan had been, how desperate he’d been just for the slightest bit of touch.

“Amazing,” he said exasperatedly. “But next time, you’re not topping.”

“Next time, huh?” You said brightly, shakily getting up. Jonathan helped you, both of you limping exhaustedly up the stairs to your actual house, where you really should’ve been fucking, instead of the clinical environment of your large basement lab.

Jonathan’s hands found your ass, pulling you flush against him and kneading the flesh roughly. “Why not? Don’t you wanna know how I fuck?” he whispered suggestively into your ear, nibbling at the lobe.

“I think, you’ve still got some aphrodisiac in you, Jon.” you said, laughing breezily.

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #batman #sub!jonathan crane #sub!jonathan crane x reader

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monicahar · 1 year

Text

“how much do you love me?”

in which you question the extent of their love out of the blue.

characters; scaramouche, cyno, tighnari, alhaitham, kaveh

; gn! reader, fluff, crack, uh, idk just sumeru men sexy. first time writing kaveh too!

SCARAMOUCHE stares at you. boredly. unamusedly. unimpressed. er, disappointed even. he's having trouble deciding if he should ignore you or not for deciding to distract him from his paperwork. he decides the latter with a sigh. “do you want me to be brutally honest?” brutally honest? is he hinting at some implication that he doesn't actually love you?! what the hell? with gritted teeth and a newfound insecurity, you nod with uncertainty.

“go for it.”

a smirk creeps on his lips as a dark expression etches itself on his face, staring at you with a level of seriousness. “i'd brawl with celestia for you.” his hands find yours, clasping it tightly in his as he breathes a vow—a promise, even. “if you were somehow taken away from me, even i am quite unsure of what kind of being i'd become.”

ah...you sweatdrop at the dedication he's willing to offer. he sounded a bit scary, borderline creepy but it's just scaramouche being your sweetie pie, haha! nothing new, am i right? anyway, he does seem to love you quite a bit—you're unsure if you should be relieved or not.

his other arm lazily warps around your shoulder as he presses his cheek against yours, his eyes shutting in content at the warmth of your skin. “but then again, there are times where i just kinda wish to throw you off a cliff. you can be quite annoying sometimes, darling. ”

“you—!” he rudely cuts you off with a press of his lips against yours, effectively shutting you up.

CYNO ponders the question for a bit too long—you're afraid that he might've taken the question a bit too seriously. he could've just said something bland and cheesy like “more than anything” and you still would've swooned like a teenage girl. after all, who wouldn't? the general mahamantra—well, if people weren't so busy fearing him, they probably would've been admiring his pretty face instead.

“i love you a lot, that's for sure. though i'm not quite sure how to measure it...”

oh, dear cyno. your heart clenches at his thoughtful words. “haha, i thought you were trying to find a joke to go along with my question or something.”

“why would i do that? my love for your isn't something to laugh about,” he pauses, eyes flickering towards you for a moment, a glint you know all too well present in his eyes.

“though,” he starts with a small grin, “if you want to hear a joke or two, i've got the ones just for you.”

it's plural?! oh no. D:

TIGHNARI doesn't peel his eyes away from the research paper before him, nonchalantly replying in a heartbeat—“i love you enough to date you, apparently.”

you outwardly huff at his boring answer, staring at the ceiling boredly as you lie in his bed. tighnari isn't quite the charmer, you guess. but then again, you probably wouldn't have dated him if he wasn't being his sassy self. “is that so.” your tone comes out more disappointed than you intended.

unbeknownst to you, his ear twitches at the lack of enthusiasm in your tone. his gaze finally removing itself from the papers in his desk to look at you from over his shoulder. he sees you staring at the ceiling, sprawled out all over his bead while humming a random tune out of boredom.

“you didn't get the meaning behind my words, did you?”

your head turns to him in utter confusion, your gaze meeting his unamused expression. “huh?”

a sigh leaves his lips as he turns back to his desk, resuming his paperwork as your gaze burns into his back.

thinking he had dismissed the subject completely, you pout at the lack of explanation, opening your mouth to ask what he meant before he abruptly cuts you off with another twitch of his ears.

“fennec foxes mate for life.” he says as a matter of factly.

oh. :o

ALHAITHAM peers at you with a raised brow. “are you asking for an exact estimation or?” this dude you swear—

“it's not like you can calculate love, dummy.” you slap his arm lightly as you huff out a laugh at his words, “i'm simply asking for a metaphor. or at least, what's the most you'd do for me out of pure love.”

“care to give an example?”

you press a finger to your chin as you walk beside him, “hmm...i love you enough that i'd give up my position in the akademiya if it meant to spend more time you!”

“that sounds unreasonable.” he replies without hesitation, a concerned frown forming on his face. “you should work on your time management instead of giving up your studies—”

“i-it's just a reference for what i would do for you, calm down...”

“i can assist you. i'll help you make a schedule right now if you want to.” he whips out a piece of paper and a pen from nowhere, surprising you greatly. where'd he get that from?! “here, you wake up at around 7 am, right? give your studies about 8 hours of your day—the average time a scholar needs, then you can spend about 4 to 6 hours with me daily without problem. in our time together we could go out and eat, maybe even do your homework so you could add an extra hour with me if so—”

sadly, you never got an answer. :(

KAVEH immediately goes “i love you more than anything in the world!” yes, it's bland and cheesy like i mentioned earlier. and yes, he's going to be proud of it too. extra points for the confidence(?)

would definitely press kisses onto your face afterwards, hugging you tightly in his arms. “ahh, you're so cute that it's impossible that i'd choose anything else over you.”

“is that so?” you ask innocently as you tilt your head, staring into his eyes. “would that mean you'll finally join me in the upcoming event that alhaitham will be co-hosting?” you almost laugh at the way his expression drops.

“aha—that's...”

“oh, c'mon! you love me more than anything, right? that also includes putting your hatred for alhaitham at bay just to keep me company, riiiight?”

“m-maybe there are a few exceptions—” he really doesn't want to see that guy more than necessary!

you lean closer to him, cupping his cheek with a smile. “even if i give you a kiss now?”

“—nevermind! i'll join you!”

yes, i hc kaveh is a simp <3

#scaramouche x reader #cyno x reader #tighnari x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #al haitham x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #har❗fiction

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spiderlyla · 5 months

Text

Waking up next to Miguel would go a little like this:

It's early, too early.

The sun is still rising, and the cold breeze of dawn is seeping through the cracks in your balcony. Birds are chirping outside, singing a soft lullaby, alerting the neighbourhood about the rising sun, and beckoning people to wake.

And awake, you were.

It took you a little bit to get over the initial confusion that occurs when you first open your eyes. The room was dimmed enough for you to see everything but was not bright enough to hurt your eyes. The sheets felt extremely warm, the mattress was extremely soft, and the pillows were fluffy enough.

Something is weighing down on your stomach, though it was not pressuring. Your eyes flutter slowly, and you look down to see tufts of messy, black hair blocking your vision.

A smile creeps onto your face, and your hand involuntarily moves to touch his hair. A deep hum erupts out of him, and when he moves, you find those reddish-brown eyes boring into yours.

You don't know how long he's been awake, but it couldn't be long. He looked rather groggy, yet you swear you could stare at him for hours.

He looked rather rugged now. The toll work took on him this month was very obvious, you could tell by his unshaved stubble, by his uneven hair, his tired eyes.You could feel your cheeks heating up, you could never get used to this sight.

"Buenos días..." His voice reverberated in your ears, so low and deep it made you feel all sorts of ways. He moved before you could answer and hoisted himself up using his arms, pinning you to the bed underneath him.

He was not wearing a shirt. The scars on his body were a little visible under his slightly hairy chest. He gained a few more of those since you last saw him, and if it weren't for the fact that you were currently mesmerised by the fact that he was so much bigger than you, you would've voiced your concern or even scolded him for not taking better care of himself.

Good thing for him, you were distracted.

"Sleep well?" He asked, pressing his soft lips to your temple. It was a habit of his now. Even on his busiest of days, he would still give you your very much needed morning kiss.

You didn't reply, only gave him a little hum and wrapped your arms around his neck. Miguel chuckled, lowering himself gently so he could rest on your chest while looking up at you. His hands were on your waist, thumbs mindlessly swiping over the same spot over and over.

And it feels so right this way. His weight on you, the soft sheets smelling of sleep mixed with his cologne, the birds chirping and tapping on your window.

"Don't go to work," He glances up at you, his expression softer than you've ever seen it. "...please." His voice does not surprise you, but his request does. Miguel was never a man with little pride, nor was he someone who liked to ask for anything, so his little plea was very surprising, to say the least.

"It's not until a few hours—" You try to explain, but he scoffs immediately, displeased.

"It's not that, I'm telling you not to go at all today." His grip on your waist tightens just in the slightest, but his gaze is still soft. "I want you to stay." You pause to think for a moment, but you had already decided as soon as you heard him utter those words.

After all, you'd be a fool if you left the bed, leaving such a striking man to be by himself.

"Okay." He finally smiles, his pearly fangs protruding and pressing on his lower lip. He adjusted himself, and you suddenly found him beside you instead of laying on you, arm spread to welcome you into his embrace, and you take the opportunity you were given.

Being against him is comforting. It makes you feel safe and warm, like nothing could ever hurt you. And you knew full well nothing would, he wouldn't allow it.

You find yourself being lulled back to sleep by his steady heartbeat and the smell of his musky cologne. His hand ran up and down along your spine before stopping at your waist and pulling you even closer.

Your eyes involuntarily close, and just before you could slip into sleep again, you feel those lips on your forehead.

"Dulces sueños, Amor." [Sweet dreams, love.]

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nimthirielrinon · 4 months

Text

I need to talk about Gale’s insecurities. For all his noted overconfidence, this is a man whose entire self-worth is based on his prowess with magic.

He was a “gifted” kid whose abilities started out well advanced for his age, just to begin with. He very much thinks of himself as annoying, which you learn in the Durge playthrough after the dead bard incident, when he says that if being annoying we’re reason enough to kill someone, he’d “be dead 1000 times over!”.

If you romance him and convince him not to take the Crown after the second romance scene in Act 3, he mentions how he’s used to being seen as over-confident and even self-deluded regarding his abilities, which I think would only make him posture even harder as a defence mechanism.

I think for a long time, his relationship with Mystra was likely something he used as a flex on other wizards who had been cruel or mean to him, based on how he brings it up, when he does.

But what gets me is his utter relief whenever he isn’t rejected by Tav. When he first opens up to you, he has pretty much already prepared himself to be kicked out of the party. He’s even got a plan for when his bomb goes off, to do the least amount of harm he can, and when he says “Even I’ve grown tired of the sound of my own voice” I swear his voice cracks and he sounds like he could cry.

If you romance him, when he tells you he’s in love with you, if you say “I love you too” instead of going straight for a kiss, he’s once again relieved. Despite the fact that you’re there with him and have been romancing him, he still has a doubts that you would return his feelings.

It’s no wonder he made the mistakes he did. This is a man who’s been told his entire life that he’s annoying. Though he’s had other mortal lovers (and we don’t know how those relationship were, only that they clearly ended), he is clearly primed for rejection. And then his ex-girlfriend, the goddess of magic herself, tells him she’ll only forgive his transgression if he kills himself.

Like I said at the top, his precocious talent for the weave is the entire basis of his self-worth, unless and until Tav assured him that he has value beyond his mastery of the Weave. It’s no wonder he felt like he had to “prove” to Mystra that he loved her enough. As long as his self-esteem was based on his magical abilities, he was never going to feel like he was good enough, especially for the goddess who is all magic. He was never going to be able to feel as though he was loving her well enough.

I guess what I’m saying is that his “ambition” and his hubris make so much sense when you consider the hinted-at reasons for his insecurities, his clear desire for friendship and affection (he summoned a Tressym who became a lifelong companion and a lava mephit or something with whom he is still in touch; he even says he didn’t have friends growing up), and his main talent/special interest.

I think he’s a superbly-written character, and I definitely feel like he deserves neither death nor godhood, but a good and comfortable life surrounded by a loving family who encourage him to be his best self.

#bg3 spoilers #long post #gale dekarios #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios of waterdeep #bg3 gale #blorbo from my games #been rotating him around in my head #like a rotisserie chicken #character analysis #the wizard of waterdeep

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faetreides · 22 days

Text

summary: paul atreides x plus sized afab servant!reader

cw: power imbalance, somnophilia (dubcon in my mind as the reader wouldn’t push him away if they woke up but feel free to skip this if you could feel icked out by it), petplay (cheated again and didn’t make it explicit but it’s very petplay coded in a way), size difference (paul’s the skinny bf that would fall over if a gust of wind was strong enough), paul eats reader out, crack treated seriously vibes bc he’s so awkward 💀, ambiguous somno occasion (like how the reader fell asleep), implications of improper use of the voice but it’s weak for this paul era so reader could probably push against it, possible dune lore inaccuracies idk don’t think just vibe

wc: 1k +

block & move on if uncomfortable !!!

don’t repost, translate, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

You’re having the same dream again. Paul Atreides, the duke’s son who you are tasked with looking after is the star.

He looms over you as you lie flat on your back, though in your dream you’re never in your servant’s quarters. No, the surrounding walls bear a more striking resemblance to Paul’s bedroom. You’re always groggy in the dream, which is a strange feeling to have when you usually are profoundly awake in your other dreams.

You’ve only been having this one since you arrived on Caladan from a smaller planet with no name that they took ownership of. Paul Atreides had seemed to seek you out like a moth to a flame, making a beeline for you and demanding in front of your mother that his father hire you. Even weirder was the fact that the ships belonging to the Atreides left immediately after you agreed to go with them, as if the trip had only one purpose.

“Shh, mouse, it’s just me. Don’t wake up.” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against yours and pecking your lips.

You lie there in a daze, eyes wide and mouth agape as Paul reaches for the fastenings of your top. It’s an orange silk number he gifted you, all your clothes are. Your breaths come out in shallow pants, the disbelief that Paul Atreides would be disrobing you with the intent to bed you is overwhelming. He gives your plush curves loving squeezes as he reveals more and more skin.

Eventually you’re stark naked under him. You sluggishly try to cover yourself with your hands but Paul swiftly knocks them aside, pinning them to your sides so he can drink in the mouth watering image. You have no idea how many dreams he has had of you, ones concerning moments like these and ones about the life you’ll experience together in between. A gaggle of tiny feet playing tag around his throne, domestic mornings of blissful silence waltzing in the dining room.

“I…. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you, i swear it.” Your heart skips a beat, despite knowing very well that this is all some passing fancy. Dreams never have to see the light of day, so you can luxuriate in your delusions.

Paul leans down to shakily mouth at your collarbone, scraping his teeth against the skin and playing with your love handles. You whimper as he litters your rough skin with love bites, you open your mouth to apologize that it’s not as smooth as a noble consort’s would be, but something in the way he shoves his tongue in your mouth to silence you tells you he somehow already knows.

You poke and pull at his dark shirt, the fine black material feeling like heaven but you’d rather it cover your garments next to the bed.

Paul chuckles, nipping at your lips and pulling back to shirk his clothing off. He throws it across the room and goes back to kissing his way down your thick body. Once he reaches your stomach, he takes extra special care to dote on the rolls of skin, softly kissing and pressing his forehead against them.

“You would be a beautiful bride, you know…”

“Um… thank you, sir.” You squirm, all the attention on someone like you from someone like your employer’s son becoming too real. The Paul Atreides would sooner be lost to the sands of Arrakis than utter those words to you in the waking world, but perhaps your long harbored infatuation has leaked into your subconscious.

He smiles, as if charmed by your shyness. “You’re welcome, mouse.”

His favorite nickname for you, given to you due to your adorable scurrying around to avoid others and shy high pitched squeaks that you use instead of words. (Also because he saw you crouch in a corner and nibble on a piece of bread that you had managed to snag from the table.)

He sits back on his heels to grab your thighs, the skin bulging in between his fingers. He draws you into a slow and sensual kiss as he pushes them apart and sinks into the empty space. You squeak in shock when you feel something stiff press against your wet pussy, but Paul only shushes you in your head and you relax again.

“Mmm~” He hums, flicking his tongue against the seam of your lips and lifting himself to hover over you once more.

He winks before tightening his grip on your thighs and stretching them wide enough for him to slink down and have access to the small hole at their apex.

You jolt when he presses a soft kiss to the top of your mound. You squeak and try to close your thighs around his head but he doesn’t let you, keeping your thighs pinned to the bed and licking a flat stripe up your pussy.

“So sweet, mouse….” Paul grins and repeats the motion a few times. “I could just spread you out over the table whenever I need to eat.”

You moan at the attention, desperately wishing that you could grind against Paul’s mouth but it feels like something more than his grip is holding you back, something about the touch seeming too vivid. You shake the thought away and sink your fingers into his hair, brushing any strays away from his face as he moves to suck on your clit.

He hollows out his cheeks a bit to get better suction on your fat clit. Paul nuzzles his face as deep into you as he can possibly get, the chubby lips of your pussy sandwiching his nose. You wrench your eyes shut as your pleasure builds and builds, but a single thin finger eases into your hole right as you’re about to tumble over the edge. The intrusion isn’t painful so much as it is entirely foreign to you, the second finger goes in much easier.

The combination of eating you out and finger fucking you makes the knot in you stomach blessedly come undone. Paul swallows it all down like there’s no better substance in the grand scheme of the universe.

You hope to have this dream again tomorrow, even at the cost of being able to look Paul Atreides in the eyes.

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roanniom · 8 months

Text

Sting

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, slapping/spanking (consensual), PIV/unprotected sex, major switch energy from both parties here, dirty talk and light degradation

You know that thing at some wild bars where you can pay to take a shot and then get slapped by a hot bartender and then splashed with a cup of water?

Eddie Munson is the guy who rushes to the bar and slams a crumpled stack of bills down, a massive smile on his face as he hollers and asks for the “special.” When you climb onto the bar with the shot he steps between your thighs with a massive smirk. He’s been flirting with you for weeks outside of the bar and you’re more than happy for him to finally crowd your personal space (when he found out you do this at your part time job he’d insisted he was visiting that very night). The minute he shoots back the gulp of tequila, you rear back, wind up, and let loose a massive slap, cracking him right against his left cheek. He reels to the right with the force of the impact, but before he can recover, you empty the contents of a plastic cup of water across his stunned face.

Eddie’s soaked features expand into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen. He stares at you, a little dazed, heavy hands dropping to your thighs and fingers digging into your flesh bruisingly. You grin right back, leaning in with a hand on his neck so you can whisper.

“Looked like you liked that,” you tease. It’s a relatively empty bar. Pretty much an off night. So nobody hears when Eddie puts a hand on your neck and pulls you so he can whisper in your ear.

“I’m so fucking hard right now, it’s insane.”

You laugh at that, covering your face with your hands. The whole point of the gimmick is to play into guys’ fantasies - grown men had uttered wet, stuttering proposals to you before - but there’s something different here with Eddie. You’d been tiptoeing around your chemistry with one another ever since Robin had invited you to that party at Steve Harrington’s house. The heat between you was just waiting to finally ignite.

“Masochist,” you throw at him.

“Sadist,” he counters pointedly. His hand rubs into the softness of your inner thigh, moving dangerously close to your center. Especially for this being your place of work. Luckily there’s only a few drunks left in the both by the front door, so they can’t see.

“Who, me?” you play along.

Eddie’s finger dips under the hem of your cutoff shorts.

“You’re telling me you didn’t just get off on slapping me?”

“Well I know you got off on being slapped, so…” you trail off, winding your arms around his neck and interlocking your fingers over his nape. Eddie scoffs.

“Well obviously. Hence the whole me being ‘so fucking hard right now’ part.” His thumb glides a cheeky line down the center seem of your shorts. Right over your slit. “I’m not the one playing coy here, baby doll.”

“The bar is closed!” you call out abruptly. Startled by your sudden change in volume Eddie steps back from you, giving you space to hop down from the bar. You clap your hands to get the dull attention from the single occupied booth.

“You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here!”

Eddie chuckles behind you, resting his forehead against the smooth mahogany of the bar to keep from beaming his smugness throughout the rest of the establishment.

“But it’s not even—,” one of your regulars winds up to argue but you go over to the door and flip the sign, slapping the ‘closed’ sign against the glass.

“Stuart if you don’t get your ass out this minute I swear to god.”

~*~

With the bar empty of patrons, the only sounds left are the moans and heavy grunts issuing from you and Eddie respectively as he fucks you on the couch in the manager’s office. The one perk of having the shittiest closing shift with the worst manager is that you’re left to lock up and therefore are free to defile his furniture in piece.

Eddie’s got you on your hands and knees, ass on the air as he pummels into you with unforgiving thrusts.

“Holy fuck you are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” His hands are heavy on your hips, moving every few seconds to squeeze the dip of your waist or grope the round of your ass.

“Back at ya, pretty boy,” you manage to respond breathlessly.

“You’re teasing me, but I mean it. Your fucking attitude. This fuuuuhcking body. Shit.” He seems beside himself, overwhelmed with need even though he is literally in the middle of fucking you. In a moment of extreme stimulation he lands a sharp spank to your ass, mesmerized by the way it jiggles with the force.

“Eddie!” you cry out, though there’s a laugh in your tone.

“You liked that?” he asks gruffly. When you nod and moan, he spanks you again, this time on the other cheek. “Of course you do. You were ripped from my wettest fantasies, you’d have to love getting spanked.”

“Mmmm not as much as you loved getting slapped,” you tease, mouth half open against the ratty fabric of the couch, seconds from drooling over how great he’s making you feel.

Suddenly your world gets upended as Eddie rips you up from the couch, shifting and hoisting so that he is now sitting up against the back of the couch with you straddling his lap. You’re dazed by the change in position and you grab at him weakly to maintain your balance.

Eddie gazes back at you with a drunken grin on his face.

“Do it.”

“Wha–ahh…” You are distracted by him lowering you back down on his cock. This angle comes with gravity on your part, and sinking down on him means that you feel him deeper than before. Deeper than you’ve ever felt a lover before.

“Eyes on me, baby doll,” Eddie coos, placing one big hand on your neck. You’re suddenly pretty out of it. So Eddie gives you some time to adjust to the new fullness you’re experiencing, placing light kisses over your cheeks, jaw, and neck. When you begin trying to roll your hips, Eddie drops his hands heavy on your waist to stop you.

“Slap me.”

Your eyes go wide, and clarity seeps into your system.

“Yeah?” you ask. A grin tugs at the corner of your mouth. Eddie nods emphatically.

“Yeah. C’mon. Hit me.”

You lift your hand up and place it lightly on his cheek.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it outside of the ‘special’ before,” you giggle. Eddie smiles at your hesitation but slaps lightly at your ass.

“C’mon. Do your worst, baby doll. I can take it.”

You take a deep breath before pulling your arm back and delivering a solid slap to his left cheek. Eddie lets out a massive moan, matched only the way his cock twitches inside you - hard.

You bring your hand back to his cheek to sooth over the pink spot forming where you struck him.

“Feels good, pretty boy?”

“Oh yeah,” he says gruffly, having the presence of mind to at least look a little sheepish.

“I could tell,” you laugh, rolling your hips against his. This time he doesn’t stop you, and you’re able to see park yourself up to a vigorous bounce. Your ass smacks against his thighs as you ride him, and eventually Eddie devolves into filthier and filthier dirty talk as he slowly loses his mind.

“Fuck. Closing the bar to get fucked in the back. So bad, baby doll. Such a bad girl.” He sucks at the swell of your breasts as you laugh. “Why are you laughing? Having fun being a little slut, huh? Of course you are.”

“Sooo much fun, Eddie,” you whine. You’ve been on the precipice of an orgasm for the past five minutes, and his words are working overtime to get you over the line. “Oh fuck, there. Right there!”

Eddie begins bucking his hips rapidly, taking over fucking up into you, all while continuing to prod at the same spot deep inside of you.

You cum in an eruption of moans and shakes, writhing in Eddie’s lap while he continues lifting you up and down his cock, fucking you through the sensation. Stars cloud your vision and it takes a while for you to get enough deep breaths into you to get your bearings again.

When you do, Eddie is still rutting up into you, somehow more desperate than before. A cute pinch in his features that has you aching for him, an aftershock quaking through your pussy.

“Look so…fuck….so pretty when you cum, baby doll,” he does his best to rasp. You ground your hands on his shoulders and continue to ride him. Letting him use you to hurtle towards his own end. You feel like you want it for him more than you even wanted your own.

“You’re so pretty, Eddie,” you hum, voice raw. Your hand slides up his sweaty neck to rest over his flushed cheek. “My pretty boy.”

“Mmmm yours,” he slurs, gazing up at you with eyes. A thrill of possession runs through you. No you haven’t known him long, but there’s something electric about the push and pull you have with Eddie. It’s hot and heavy and sick and sweet and you can’t help but feel a need to own him, as he seems to own you.

“You’re mine?” you ask, though he’s the one who just instigated that concept fully.

He nods, but his eyes slide closed as you bring him even closer to the edge. You slap lightly on his cheek for attention and he moans, eyelids rocketing up.

“Harder.”

You do as he says, slapping him on the other cheek this time. It is harder but Eddie grunts as he picks up the pace, fucking up into you.

“Harder.”

You slap him again, and he blinks before groaning, his hips beginning to stutter and lose their steady rhythm.

“Fuck me, harder! Please!”

The begging breaks you.

You slap him, hard, and then lurch forward to swallow his gasp as his jaw drops and eyes roll back. You kiss him while he stiffens in your arms, his hot spend spurting into you. Your hands close over his cheeks to cradle him to you, cooing against his lips and working him through his pleasure with steady, shallow rolls of your hips.

“That’s it, pretty boy. Came so good for me,” you whisper, open mouthed kisses raining down on his cheeks as you hold him.

After several minutes of shuddering breaths, Eddie let’s put a hoarse laugh.

“Fucking Christ. What was that?”

You laugh along with him, lifting his chin to look into his hazy eyes.

“That was you cumming your brains out to me slapping the shit out of you.”

“You’re a poet,” Eddie snorts. His hand traces lazy shapes into the bare expanse of your lower back.

“Oh I’m sorry is there a classy way of describing what just happened?” you counter with humor. Eddie shrugs.

“I found ecstasy on the knife’s edge of pleasure and pain with my woman in my arms.”

You dissolve into a fit of laughter than he can only suppress by dragging you against him in a hug and muffling your face against his chest.

After the struggle dissipates, you slump boneless in his arms, content to be held. You press a kiss to his chest.

“Your woman?” You quote back to him. Eddie huffs.

“Well I’d hope this ownership thing is a two way street if I’m gonna be yours, baby doll.”

For a second you don’t answer and his blood runs cold, worrying he may have been presumptuous, taking what you said in a moment of passion at face value. But then you’re looking up at him with a dazzling smile.

“You’re gonna regret this, Munson. I bet a collar would look really pretty on you.” You reach up and trace a finger around the circumference of his neck, watching the muscles and tendons work as he swallows, the skin there flushing a beautiful red.

You don’t get a chance to do anything else before you’re flipped again, suddenly on your back. You hiss at the sudden extraction of Eddie’s cock, but the hiss becomes a gasp when it’s slapped down on-top of your clit, suddenly hard and swollen again.

Eddie’s hand comes down to wrap lightly around your throat and your eyes light up, a big smile on your face.

The man above you stares down at you.

“Was thinking the same about you, baby doll.”

When he slaps your ass it stings.

Good.

~*~

—

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——

——-

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment to let me know what you think!

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munson thots #stranger things smut

2K notes · View notes

jaeyunverse · 10 months

Text

the 24-hour dating challenge

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genres: fluff, crack, mutual pining, suggestive, best friends to lovers, influencer au

wc: 8145

warnings: profanity, hoon is a loser and down bad sawry, you can’t see the mutual pining but that’s a skill issue on my part bc i swear it’s there, fic is completely from sunghoon’s pov, this was supposed to be short and sweet but it got kinda spicy towards the end LMAOAO but nothing happens so dw!!

summary: being a famous youtuber isn’t easy, especially when you have to constantly come up with new ideas to keep your audience entertained. and this time, your viewers want you to date park sunghoon, your best friend of nearly a decade, for the entirety of 24 hours.

moodboard: one ☆ two

note: omg i didn’t think i would struggle w this oneshot but i lowkey did w the last part ☹️ i think it’s bc it has been a while since i raw dogged a fic HAHDHS anyway i hope the end doesn’t seem super abrupt and y’all enjoy! i would love to hear your thoughts + feedback :’)

inspiration: evelyn and fred (♡)

masterlist

“Your followers want me to do what?”

Sunghoon was positive he’d misheard you. However, part of him hoped you’d confirm the life-altering information you’d casually uttered without even bothering to look away from the TV screen.

“Hoon!” you exclaimed, your fingers aggressively moving about the gaming console. “Oh, my God, they’re coming after me! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK—” you screeched— “Nonononono I can’t take them by myself! You testicle-guzzling cocksucker, why did you die when I needed you the most?!”

Sunghoon watched you struggle warily. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety and your eyes were bulging out of their sockets. He wasn’t entirely sure you were breathing. Beads of sweat were clinging to your forehead, and your face was scrunched up in a weird, constipated expression.

There was a good chance you’d utter fouler insults if he disturbed you while playing, but he couldn’t stop himself from broaching the subject. “Are we just going to pretend you didn’t say the thing you just said?”

“The thing about you being a testicle-guzzling cocksucker?” you gritted. “No.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The thing about your followers wanting us to date for a video.”

For a few moments, you didn’t deign to acknowledge him. Then, as if a switch inside you had flipped, you pulled the TV’s plug and turned to face him. “Would it be weird?”

Wow. Okay, Sunghoon mused. I think it would be a fantastic idea and a dream come true, but I don’t trust myself around you. Even as a mere friend.

However, instead of voicing his thoughts, the boy simply shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve been friends for several years now. I’m a regular on your YouTube channel and I think your fans are aware of the dynamics of our relationship. What do they mean when they say they want us to date? Physical intimacy aside, we already do everything couples do.”

“I think they want us to be romantic,” you admitted. “Go on a date, hold hands, cross some lines.”

“Cross some lines?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lip curling in a smirk. “Is this you speaking or your subscribers?”

Groaning in exasperation, you shoved his shoulder. He fell back on the couch, laughing. “Shut up, dickface! You know I’ve been swamped this semester. My influencer gig has been seriously lacking. I need to step up—do what they want me to do. Besides, we only have to be girlfriend and boyfriend for 24 hours. It’s really not that big a deal. Are you in or not?”

Sunghoon took a few seconds to mull over your words. Sure, he would love to be your boyfriend for 24 hours. As long as his fantasies were brought to reality, he didn’t care if the whole relationship was fake and short-lived.

For far too long, he’d pined after you. He thought he was doing an excellent job at hiding his feelings, but then you decided to make vlogs for fun. That’s when shit actually went downhill.

Within a few years, you’d amassed a following of over 5 million on YouTube and 3 million on Instagram. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say you’d become somewhat of a local celebrity.

Being one of your closest friends, Sunghoon was often featured in your videos. Initially, he’d baulked at the idea of being filmed, but you’d worked your magic on him. The boy soon found himself being comfortable around cameras.

Even though Sunghoon never started his own YouTube channel, his popularity grew along with yours. His Instagram had garnered over two million followers, and courtesy of his good looks and attractive physique, he’d been offered a bunch of brand deals too.

You’d scowled at how far Sunghoon’s pretty privilege had gotten him. While you busted your ass coming up with unique ideas and editing your videos to perfection, all he needed to do was show up.

What you didn’t know, though, was that part of the reason he’d become a heartthrob among the youth was you.

You might have been dumb and blind, but your followers certainly were not. They’d realised how Sunghoon looked at you—his eyes always twinkled and a fond smile automatically adorned his lips whenever he caught sight of you.

To add to that, your fans had pointed out habits he didn’t even know he possessed. For example: idly braiding your strands; bringing you snacks whenever he swung by your apartment; saying hey, sunshine and giving you a side hug by way of greeting; disguising his compliments as insults.

The list was embarrassingly long.

They’d noticed the elastic he kept around his wrist at all times too—it was one of the two you’d used to tie his hair into little ponytails because you were convinced you could transform him into Boo from Monsters, Inc.

Sunghoon himself had forgotten the reason he wore the elastic around his wrist. All he knew was that it was yours and it felt right. But when he read the comments obsessing about it, he rushed to watch the video your fans were referring to.

And damn, they were right.

Sunghoon didn’t know if you’d seen the comments your fans regularly left on your various social media pages. You’d never mentioned anything about the community calling you “couple goals,” and he was too much of a coward to inquire if you were aware.

It was infuriating to know how transparent he was. Sunghoon wished he’d never gotten used to the camera and let slip his true self.

Perhaps this was the cost of gaining the boyfriend material label—his unrequited feelings exposed for the entire world to see.

Sunghoon would never admit it, but he’d spent the better part of a day reporting everyone who’d shipped him with you. The entire incident had truly made him go off the rails.

However, today’s revelation was unexpected. It was an opportunity. A chance to experience something he’d desired for many years. Suddenly, he found himself thanking those busybodies online instead of cussing them out for being ridiculously invested in his love life.

Sunghoon knew saying yes to your proposition would bite him in the ass later on. He knew he’d crave more of you once he got a taste of being your boyfriend, and giving this fake relationship a shot would definitely make it harder for him to get over you in the future. He knew he was a massive idiot for willingly indulging in impending heartbreak, but he could always cross that bridge when he came to it.

“Okay,” he said, meeting your gaze. “I’m in.”

There was a small chance Sunghoon was getting ahead of himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken it upon himself to organise the perfect date.

Being bitchless his entire life wasn’t doing him any favours in performing the task. Originally, he’d figured he would do a quick Google search and plan a day according to the results shown.

Unfortunately, most activities on the list were things the two of you already did on a normal basis. He’d racked his brain to think of a unique idea after scrolling through the internet for hours on end and coming up empty-handed.

Karaoke? Check. Restaurant hopping? Psh, you did that every weekend. Rock climbing? He was scared of heights. Bowling? Boring. Concert? None of your favourite artists were in town. Clubbing? He would rather spend quality time with you than get both of you wasted. Arcade? Basic and low-budget; he didn’t want to be cheap. Road-trip? Needed more than just 24 hours.

Sunghoon wondered if he was the problem. He’d shot down every option he’d come across so far by classifying it as not good enough. His stress levels were skyrocketing trying to make your 24-hour relationship perfect.

An entire day’s research had ended up being fruitless. You’d decided to go through with the challenge on Sunday, so he only had tomorrow to come up with something satisfactory.

Sighing, Sunghoon rubbed his eyes and closed his laptop. He eyed his phone on the bedside table for a few seconds, contemplating whether he should just call you and ask if you had anything in mind.

Before he could rethink his choice, he picked up the device and dialled you.

“Hey.” Your voice on the other end was deep and hoarse. A glance at the wall clock informed Sunghoon it was past midnight, and he’d likely woken you up. Guilt twisted his stomach. “Is something wrong?”

“Sorry, I didn’t realise it was late,” he mumbled. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I was watching a movie and passed out halfway through it. I needed to finish it anyway.”

Lying back on his bed, Sunghoon inquired, “Ready or not?”

“Yeah.” You huffed a laugh. “I finally got around to seeing it. Your choice, as always, is impeccable.”

Though you couldn’t see him, he raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say you dozed off in the middle of it?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s because I’m not a stupid nocturnal with no care for their sleep cycle and health.”

“Ouch.” Sunghoon clutched his chest. He could practically hear you roll your eyes. “No need to be so harsh.”

You hummed absent-mindedly, a yawn escaping your lips. “Was there a reason you hit me up, or can I get back to the movie?”

“Oh, yeah.” Sunghoon cleared his throat. “Do you have any suggestions for the challenge? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I haven’t come up with anything interesting.”

“Not really. I tried researching a bit, and there isn’t much we don’t already do. I’m starting to wonder if the only difference between a platonic and romantic relationship is physical intimacy. I’m sure we can reach a consensus though,” you added.

Sunghoon groaned. “This is proving to be more difficult than I—”

“WAIT!” you interrupted him with an exclaim. “How about a picnic date? We’ve been talking about going on one with the rest of our friends for ages, but it’s never worked out. Let’s go—just the two of us. We can choose outfits for each other too! I’ll order you something online, and you do the same for me. We can spend the rest of our day doing whatever you want.”

Sunghoon’s eyes widened. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Right?” you giggled. “Maybe we can spread a blanket in the park under a tree and have a nice brunch. I’ll organise it!”

“I’ll take care of dinner and plan another activity for us to do between the two meals.” He grinned. “Looks like we might actually be able to pull this off, Y/N.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to film a video,” you admitted.

Sunghoon’s heart fluttered, and his lips widened into a smile. “Me too.”

Everything was set. You’d received the dress Sunghoon had ordered for you, and he’d taken delivery of the one you’d bought for him.

Upon opening the package, Sunghoon was surprised to see you’d accidentally ended up matching outfits. While he’d chosen a white summer dress with blue flowers for you, you’d picked out a white graphic tee and low-rise, faded blue, baggy jeans for him.

The fit was minimal—something that he would have purchased if he’d seen it in a mall.

Grabbing a pair of sunglasses and running a hand through his messy hair, Sunghoon made a beeline for his car. He shot you a quick text regarding his ETA before backing the vehicle out of his driveway.

[hoon]: omw be there in 10

[y/n]: okie i’ll wait for u. call me when ur outside!!!!!!!!!

Averting his gaze to the road again, Sunghoon took a deep breath. He’d finally planned the perfect day out. It took a lot of effort and coordination on his part, but the several favours he had to call in were worth it.

He’d probably gone over the top, especially considering the fact that this wasn’t even real, but he was determined not to half-ass anything. He had one chance, and he’d damn well make sure he didn’t waste it.

Turning the corner of your house, Sunghoon dialled your number. “I’m here.”

“Coming,” you popped, the sound of your footsteps descending the stairs audible through the call.

He grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the backseat, got rid of his sunglasses and exited the car. Your door opened a few seconds later, and Sunghoon’s world slipped from under his feet.

God, you were beautiful. So beautiful and so fucking pretty in the dress he’d chosen for you. The material fit you perfectly—it accentuated your upper body and was flowy from your lower waist. The dress was almost ankle-length with a side slit that began at your upper thigh. Your shoulders and collar bones were exposed, a gold pendant filling the empty space the deep square neckline left in its wake.

Your left shoulder was carrying a tote bag, and your right hand was holding a large picnic basket. Much to Sunghoon’s surprise, your free hand was wrapped around a bouquet too.

Snapping himself out of his reverie, he took the basket from you and placed it inside the car. “You look amazing, sunshine,” he breathed. “Just—wow.”

Giggling, you did a little twirl for him. “Thanks! I love what you’ve done with your hair. It makes you more attractive.”

Sunghoon mock-saluted and bowed dramatically, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Took me ten minutes to style it.” Glancing at the flowers in your hand, he asked, “You got me flowers?”

Maybe his eyesight was faulty, but Sunghoon felt your entire demeanour suddenly change. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you averted your gaze from his and shyly mumbled, “You took it upon yourself to plan the majority of the day. The least I could do was gift you some flowers.”

Right when Sunghoon thought he couldn’t love you any more than he already did, you went ahead and did this. He’d never received flowers in his life before, and the gesture meant everything to him.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took the bouquet from you. “Thank you,” he said, voice heavy with gratitude. “Don’t kill me, but I don’t know the name of these flowers.”

Laughing, you pinched his cheek. “They’re asters.”

“What do they mean?”

“Why don’t you search it up when you go home?” you quipped. “Let me know once you find out.”

Sunghoon shrugged and handed you the flowers he’d bought for you. “Sunflowers for my sunshine.”

A wide grin broke across your lips. “They’re my favourite!”

“I know, dummy,” he said, flicking your forehead and opening the passenger’s door for you. “That’s why I got them for you.”

“Be nice!” you complained as he walked around the car. Taking a seat beside you, he started the engine and began driving. “I’m your girlfriend!”

“I just opened the door for you,” Sunghoon pointed out, promptly ignoring the way his heart rate picked up. “I think I’m being gentlemanly enough.”

“That’s not a word.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“This is why you get no bitches.”

“I got you.”

“Are you calling me a bitch?”

“I’m calling you mine.”

Snorting, you said, “Not your best save, Park.”

Biting down the smile threatening to break across his lips, Sunghoon said, “I’ll survive, but you should really start recording.”

“Right,” you gasped, your eyes widening. Fetching the DSLR from your tote bag and switching it on, you placed it on the dashboard carefully. After ensuring that the camera was rolling, you began, “I’m in the car with Sunghoon right now. He just picked me up, but I lowkey forgot to record it.”

“Y/N was too busy gawking at me,” Sunghoon teased and raised an eyebrow at the lens. “I’m too attractive for my own good.”

“Nobody’s buying your bullshit.” You rolled your eyes. “But if you do think he looks cute, it’s because I chose his outfit.”

“And if you think she looks beautiful, that’s because I chose her outfit.”

You nodded. “He did. We thought kicking off the challenge this way would be cool. Clothes were ordered by both of us individually, which means neither of us had any idea what had been chosen by the other until we met ten minutes ago. Crazy how we still ended up matching.”

“We exchanged flowers too. Y/N got me asters, and I got her sunflowers.”

“Hoon has no idea what asters signify,” you commented and nudged him with your elbow. “He didn’t even know the flowers I gifted him were asters.”

“Don’t shame me for not being a nerd!” Sunghoon defended himself. “Only you can be the kind of person who reads The Language of Flowers and indulges in floriography because they’re bored.”

“Aaaand the worst boyfriend award goes to this guy sitting right next to me,” you announced, shooting him a nasty glare. “He’s been annoying me from the moment he came to pick me up.”

“I opened the door for you!”

“How long are you going to milk the one gentlemanly thing you did?”

Sunghoon scoffed in disbelief. “I thought gentlemanly wasn’t a word.”

“I lied,” you popped and grinned cheekily.

“The problem with this relationship is you, woman, not me.”

Laughing, you turned to the camera again. “We’re going on multiple dates today. I’ve organised a picnic brunch, and Hoon has organised dinner.”

“It’s a surprise,” Sunghoon explained. “But I can assure you that it’s going to be the coolest thing ever.”

You hummed in agreement. “I believe him. He always gives the best surprises. Anyway, I’m going to stop recording now, and I’ll see you guys once we reach the park. I think we’re almost there.”

“Five minutes,” Sunghoon provided.

You grabbed the DSLR and brought it close to your face. Cupping your hand over the lens as if you were telling it a secret, you whispered, “T-minus five minutes to the best picnic date ever. Bye!”

Despite it being June and most kids being on vacation, the park wasn’t crowded.

Even though it was almost 10:30 and the sun was merciless, there were plenty of people jogging on the track. Sunghoon spotted a laughter club in session a few hundred metres away from where you’d laid your blanket under the tree.

Thanks to the clear sky and blowing wind, more than a few people had taken out their own picnic baskets and decided to enjoy the weather. A bunch of middle-schoolers were playing basketball about fifty metres away from your tree, and though Sunghoon would have appreciated the peace, it was fun to watch them run around on the court.

You’d set up the camera immediately upon arrival. Even though it was still rolling, neither of you were aware of it. It lay forgotten to the side, and as far as Sunghoon was concerned, it was just the two of you.

“It’s a beautiful day,” you mumbled, gathering your strands and tying them up in a messy bun. “Really fucking hot though.”

“You have some relief, at least,” Sunghoon said, pointing at your exposed shoulders and flowing dress. “I’m fully covered and positively dying in here.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Oops. That’s my bad.”

Laughing, Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair. “What did you get for us to eat in that basket of yours?” he asked. “It was pretty heavy.”

“Nothing much,” you answered and dragged the basket closer to you. Opening the lid, you pulled out Tupperware containing watermelons, muskmelons and mango slices. You’d also prepared a heart-shaped pizza and baked half a dozen macarons. Finally, you fetched a bottle filled with peach-iced tea and a pair of champagne glasses.

Sunghoon gaped at the assortment of food you’d arranged. “Did you make everything by yourself?”

“I wish,” you snorted. “Mom made the macarons and delivered them via FedEx. I don’t have the patience to bake.”

“Okay, but this is still crazy,” Sunghoon said, amazement evident in his tone. “The amount of effort you’ve put in is insane.”

Blushing, you shoved his shoulder. “Stop! You’re embarrassing me!”

“I’m complimenting you!” he exclaimed, and served himself a piece of the pizza. “Bringing homemade food is the best thing you could’ve done. And God, this is delicious. I’m going to wife you right now.”

You laughed incredulously. “Slow down, Romeo. We just started dating. How about you show me a good time first?”

This. This was exactly the reason why Sunghoon didn’t entirely hate being stuck in the friend zone. Because no matter how much you told people you were just friends and there was nothing going on between the two of you, you were constantly flirting.

The only reason he was afraid of confessing his feelings was that he didn’t know much of the flirting was real. It was the dynamic of your friendship—neither of you thought it was weird making suggestive comments. You were too comfortable with each other to let such things bother you.

Sunghoon could no longer tell whether your relationship was still platonic. He was too hopelessly in love with you to keep knowing the difference between a joke and genuineness. His heart surged every time you said something only a romantic partner would, and his heart shattered every time he reminded himself that you didn’t actually mean it.

You never meant it.

But Sunghoon was a selfish person. He was going to take what he could get. He would rather be unintentionally strung along than give these moments up. The minuscule part of him that hated you for the pain you were causing him was nothing compared to the part of him that loved you unconditionally.

Forcing himself out of his reverie, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at you. “In front of everyone?”

“You’re so gross!” you snickered, your eyes shining with mischief. “I obviously mean when we get home!”

I’m going to kill myself, Sunghoon thought. I’m going to kill myself before she kills me.

The two of you had finished eating almost thirty minutes ago. Now, you were just lying on the blanket and staring at the sky, having conversations about the most random topics.

You were talking shit about some know-it-all guy in your physics class, but Sunghoon wasn’t really paying any attention to what you were saying.

He was still stuck on what had happened an hour ago when you’d urged him to feed you because “that was what couples did.”

Sunghoon didn’t give a shit what couples did. His biggest problem at the moment was his mind replaying the incident like a broken record. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d already known he was being an idiot by agreeing to come on this date, but he never thought he’d regret his decision this quickly.

“Are you okay?”

Blinking, Sunghoon spared you a glance. “Peachy.”

“Those kids over there are calling us,” you told him, pointing to the basketball court. “We should go see what they want.”

Nodding, he pulled himself to his feet and gave you a hand. Leaving the DSLR under the tree wouldn’t have been safe, so you grabbed it and the two of you made your way to the children waiting for you.

“Hey,” a perky boy greeted you enthusiastically. “I’m Hyun. We’ve been playing basketball for the past several hours. The team that wins 6 out of 11 matches has to treat the other team to ice cream. Unfortunately, 2 of our friends left, and now it’s just the 6 of us divided into 2 teams. We really don’t want to play half-court, but we can’t play full-court with a team of only 3 each. Do you guys want to play the last few matches with us? One match only lasts 15 minutes.”

Sunghoon exchanged a look with you. Then, you glanced at your spot under the tree. Lastly, you checked out your outfit—the slit exposing most of your leg and the lack of coverage for your shoulders.

“I have a pair of shorts and a shirt in my car,” he informed you.

You took a moment to weigh your options. Honestly, playing in the open when the sun was out to torture everyone didn’t sound appealing. There was also the issue of you needing to switch outfits, and you didn’t know if you wanted to take the effort of changing inside Sunghoon’s car.

But kids had always been your weak spot and the little rascals were staring you down with their puppy eyes.

You sighed. “Fine. We’re in.”

“I haven’t played in a while,” Sunghoon admitted. “I think it’s been over 6 months.”

“I haven’t played since varsity girls either,” you said. The kids had left to take a break a few minutes ago and the court was empty save for the two of you.

You’d changed into his clothes, but the shirt was too long for you. So, you’d requested him to tie the extra into a knot at the back. Thankfully, the shorts could be tightened at the waist with lace.

Sunghoon could get used to you wearing his wardrobe.

He idly dribbled the ball the kids had given to him for safekeeping while you stretched your stiff muscles. “Then I guess we get to evaluate whose skills have become more rusty.”

“Free shots?” you asked, eyes alight with a competitive fire and a smirk tugging at your lips. “We can test our aim and get a feel of the baskets on this court. It would be a good warm-up exercise.”

Sunghoon poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Bring your camera here. Record me from up close. I’m going to go for a layup.”

“Wow,” you scoffed but did as you were told nonetheless. Before stepping onto the court, you’d filmed Sunghoon and yourself, explaining that you were about to play basketball with a bunch of kids. Naturally, you’d decided not to record the match in order to respect the privacy of the children. “Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself? I’m telling you right now that I won’t care if you miss the shot. I will use it to humiliate you in the video.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes.

You switched on the DSLR and pointed the lens at him. “We’re doing free shots till the kids come back from their break,” you said. “Hoon’s convinced he can land a layup even though he hasn’t touched a ball for several months.”

“Don’t condescend me,” Sunghoon grumbled as he walked to the 3-pointer line. “It’s not like I’ve completely forgotten how to play. I’m pretty sure I can nail a simple shot.”

“We’ll see.”

“You know what,” he called. “I’m going to dedicate this layup to you so that when I make it, you’ll know not to doubt my athletic prowess.”

All you did was raise an eyebrow.

“This one’s for you, babe!” Sunghoon announced and began running. The ball was a number 6—smaller than the size 7 he was used to. The grip was worn due to excessive use, but he still had complete control over it.

However, he misjudged the distance from the hoop. He realised a second too late that he’d taken the first step of the layup later than he was supposed to.

The ball collided against the rim and rebounded.

“Air ball!” you hollered and zoomed into Sunghoon’s face. “Athletic prowess found to be missing! What a shame!”

His cheeks, along with the tips of his ears, were red with embarrassment. He couldn’t even bring himself to look into the camera after making such a big fool out of himself.

“I am begging you, Y/N. Can we please edit that part out?”

“I’m kicking your ass, Park.”

“I suggest you take the over-confidence down a notch.”

You smirked, dribbling the basketball in place. Sunghoon was blocking the way to your side of the court, and each of the kids on your team had a man on them. Playing in the sun for so long must have tired them out because no one was making an effort to get rid of the shield standing in front of them.

The last match was a 1v1 at this point.

“I’m not in the habit of lying,” you said, and dribbled the ball from between his legs.

Sunghoon cursed under his breath and chased after you, but you were speeding away from him faster than he could keep up. The layup was clean and effortless. You barely broke a sweat.

“SUCK IT!” you screamed. “Your team is going down!”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. He watched your team—Hyun, Chul and Dae—do the victory dance you’d taught them. It was hilarious because none of you had any coordination. The arm wave move made it seem as though all of you were having a seizure.

“We still have fifteen seconds of the match left,” he pointed out, and pat Iseul’s back in reassurance. “Don’t go celebrating just yet.”

“You’re four points behind. Just admit defeat,” Dae said. “We’ve won!”

“We’re not surrendering,” Hajoon said angrily. “Sunghoon will make sure we win.”

“Boys!” you interrupted loudly. “Let’s finish the championship sportingly. We’re playing for fun.”

Chul muttered something under his breath that Sunghoon and you chose to ignore.

“Seojoon,” Sunghoon called quietly. “Now that we have possession of the ball, I need you to pass it to me from below. Then I need Hajoon and Iseul to gang up on Y/N. Don’t push or shove; just keep her away. The worst thing we can do is commit a foul. The rest of the boys won’t be a problem, but I’ll need Seojoon to act as my shield in case they try to take the ball from me. Do not let anyone come near me under any circumstances. I’m going to go for a 5-pointer.”

The trio audibly gasped.

Iseul nervously asked, “Are you sure you can score?”

“Not without the three of you helping me out.” Sunghoon nodded. “Y/N is quick and slippery. Keep your eye on her. We’ll lose if she gets possession of the ball. I’ll take care of the rest.”

The boys let out a sound of agreement and dispersed, taking their respective positions.

Sunghoon searched for you, and when your gazes met, he made a gesture of slitting his throat. This time, you rolled your eyes and dismissed him without a word.

“Let’s start,” you announced with a clap and got into position. He noticed you were standing away from the basket. The rest of your team was too. It dawned on Sunghoon that you’d positioned everyone in a way that would prevent them from committing a foul which would grant his team free throws.

It was smart and reasonable of you to think that way. Sunghoon wasn’t known for landing 5-pointers. Heck, he never even attempted them. He usually went for layups and 3-pointers.

Focusing on the game, he took a deep breath. Seojoon passed the ball at him as soon as you yelled Go!

Sunghoon dribbled to your side of the court immediately. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you hesitate, but your mouth parted in realisation the second you caught onto what he was doing.

“Stay on her!” he yelled at Iseul and Hajoon. “Don’t let her go.”

Sunghoon dodged the rest of your teammates. Seojoon wasn’t doing a good job at keeping them away, but he didn’t have enough time to dwell on it. He could do this by himself as long as you were out of the picture.

Sunghoon eyed the basket and bent at his knees, gathering enough momentum to jump. He’d been hitting the gym more often, and he hoped to God his hard work wouldn’t fail him at such a crucial time.

Exhaling once, Sunghoon jumped and let the ball fly across the court. The moment the ball was out of his hands, you crashed into him, knocking him to the ground and falling on top of him.

“Ow,” he muttered, his arm wrapping itself around your waist on instinct. “That’s foul play.”

Before you could bite back, Sunghoon heard someone scream, “No way! Sunghoon did it!”

Sunghoon grinned and craned his neck to look at his teammates. A laugh tumbled past his lips when he saw them doing the floss dance and playfully teasing the losing team.

The sound of your groan made him avert his attention to you. You’d raised your head to find out whether Sunghoon had made the basket, and upon realising that you’d lost the match, you let it fall on his chest again. “Man,” you grumbled in defeat.

“Aw,” Sunghoon teased. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Who asked?”

Snorting, Sunghoon loosened his grip around your waist. Rolling off him, you laid down on your back in the middle of the court next to him. “Am I supposed to buy you ice cream now?”

He checked his watch before answering, “Nah. Let’s go home and freshen up. It’s almost time for my date.”

“The beach,” you marvelled. Both of you were standing on a cliff overlooking the expanse of sand and water. “I should have guessed.”

Sunghoon agreed. It shouldn’t have been hard to pinpoint the venue of the date once he’d requested you to wear shorts and sandals. However, your obliviousness had worked in his favour.

The entire thing was supposed to be a surprise. It was supposed to sweep you off your feet.

He averted his attention from the ocean to find that you were already staring at him. A soft smile was adorning your face, and with the breeze ruffling your unbound hair, you looked nothing short of a fairy tale.

“Do you remember the last time we came here?” you inquired, and returned your gaze to the view again. Sunghoon didn’t bother to take his eyes off you—he couldn’t take his eyes off you. The reflection of the sunset in your irises was too intoxicating. “Jay, Jake, Yizhuo and Isa were with us. We spent the entire night talking around a bonfire. I couldn’t keep myself awake once the clock struck two. You tucked me close and let me rest my head on the space between your shoulder and neck. You kissed my forehead and promised me you’d wake me up in a few hours.”

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He only kept staring at the image of the sunset in your eyes—the way the ocean consumed the ball of fire the same way his love for you consumed his very being.

Love shouldn’t hurt this much, he thought. It shouldn’t be this painful.

“I remember the way you smelt,” you continued. “Like vanilla and sandalwood. I remember wanting to pull you closer because you also smelt like home. I hated moving to a new city for college. I missed our hometown. I missed life being simpler. I missed the old times. But those brief moments before I fell asleep reminded me that not everything had changed. The clumsy boy I’d met in kindergarten was still with me. Sure, he was a bigger pain in my ass than he had been when we were kids, but he hadn’t left my side even once. And I knew he wouldn’t for a long time.”

“You’ve been the only constant in my life, Sunghoon,” you mumbled and turned your body towards his. Snaking your arms around his waist, you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for being a good friend to me. I love you.”

And though Sunghoon knew you didn’t mean it the way he wished you did, he returned your embrace and confessed, “I love you too.”

“What the fuck?” you whispered and let go of Sunghoon’s hand to jog ahead. “WHAT THE FUCK? IS THAT A CANDLELIGHT DINNER?”

Laughing in amusement, he pocketed his hands and watched you freak out. The beach was usually crowded at this hour, but he’d asked Jake—the surfer of their group—if there was anywhere he could spend the evening undisturbed.

“Your eyes do not deceive you,” he joked as he approached you. “I know it’s kind of corny, but this was the most romantic date setting I could think of.”

“Corny?” you exclaimed incredulously. “This is amazing!” Nudging him with your elbow, you teased, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“You would have known a lot more if you’d asked me out before,” Sunghoon smirked, a suggestive undertone to his comment. “But I suppose we can make do with what we have now.”

You snorted. “You’re insufferable.” Then added, “I don’t want to shoot us having dinner here. Maybe I’ll just film the date set-up and our outfits, but I think I want this evening to remain between us only.”

“Oh.” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, that works for me. Do you want me to get your camera?”

The next five minutes were spent recording the date he had organised. The food was prepared by Jay, whose chef father had taught him a thing or two before the boy moved to the city for college. Sunghoon had dragged Yizhuo and Isa with him to shop for decor.

They’d bought a soft blanket which was now spread on the sand. He’d also purchased six couch pillows to make the setting cosier. Fairy lights covered the perimeter of the throw.

The coffee table Sunghoon had stolen from himself and brought to the beach was filled with all kinds of your favourite food, a scented candle burning in the centre of it.

Since he’d known he couldn’t escape you to set up everything that he’d planned, he’d begged his friends to do it for him. Obviously, they’d teased him about it on their group chat, but he’d ignored them the way he always did.

“I have another surprise,” Sunghoon popped as the two of you settled down on opposite sides of the table. “I don’t know if you’re going to be up for it though.”

“Is it the wine?” you asked, eyeing the corked bottle partially hidden under one of the pillows. “Because I saw it long back, and I am all for getting drunk.”

Sunghoon chuckled. “Nah, it’s not the wine, but yeah, we’re getting drunk. There’s absolutely no doubt about it. But,” he continued, “I’d been going through Pinterest to search for date ideas when I called you in the middle of your movie a few nights ago. After our talk, I remembered you’d made this board with Karina when you were a thirteen-year-old.”

You gasped and reached over the table to smack his arm. “You stalked my Pinterest?! That is so uncool! There’s tons of embarrassing shit on there! I should have privated those boards when I had the chance,” you muttered to yourself.

“Then I wouldn’t have rented a projector for us to watch a movie after we finish dinner.” Sunghoon grinned cheekily. “We are not watching some sappy romcom though,” he warned. “Soap2Day came in clutch so we can watch Suzume or Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3. Your choice.”

Your mouth parted in surprise. For a few moments, you didn’t say anything. With a raised eyebrow, Sunghoon watched you struggle to form the words. “Okay, I know it was creepy to stalk you on Pinterest—”

“NO!” you blurted, your eyes widening. “It’s not creepy! I just—No one has ever done anything of this sort for me. I don’t know what to say except… thank you.”

Before he could reply, you buried your face in your hands, and muttered, “Gosh, I sound so ungrateful, but I really do appreciate it. More than I can express.” Raising your head, you looked straight into his eyes. “I have this extremely strong urge to kiss you right now. Would it be fine with you if I acted on it?”

Sunghoon stopped breathing. His smile dropped, and his heart skipped a beat. The entire world could have crumbled, and he would have remained frozen in place, trying to make sense of what you’d just said.

“W—what?” he croaked.

You broke off the eye contact and dropped your gaze to the ground. “Sorry. That was stupid of me—”

“Yes,” Sunghoon breathed. “Yes, it would be fine with me.”

You exhaled, appearing visibly relieved, and that somehow made him feel better about the sharp turn the evening had taken. Of course, he was thrilled you wanted to kiss him, but part of him couldn’t help but wonder if you’d regretted voicing your thoughts.

Licking your lips, you unfolded your legs and scooted away from the table. Instead of standing up, you got on your knees and made your way towards him.

Sunghoon also moved away from the table to make space for you, and once you reached him, you swung your legs on either side of him. Straddling his lap, you towered over him.

Snaking your arms around his shoulder, you glanced at his mouth.

Even though it was driving Sunghoon out of his mind to not close the distance between your lips, he let you take your time. You traced your thumb across his lower lip and then shifted your hand to the back of his neck.

Weaving your fingers through his hair, you let your eyes flutter shut and lowered your mouth over his.

Sunghoon’s entire universe exploded into shards of molten light. A tidal wave of emotions crashed into him, setting his nerves on fire and making fireworks explode inside his chest.

The boy couldn’t have kissed you back any faster. Tilting his head to the side, he pulled you closer by the nape.

Settling in his lap, you tugged at his hair, the nails of your other hand digging into his shoulder.

A groan slipped past Sunghoon’s lips. God, he’d coveted the taste of you for so long, and now that he was finally kissing you, he realised he’d never estimated the magnitude of his love for you accurately before.

Because this… this was everything. Sunghoon felt on top of the world, and pure euphoria was coursing through his veins. He couldn’t get enough of you. A single kiss would never be enough to satiate him. The floodgates were thrown open, and the thought of this being a one-time, impulsive thing made his gut twist painfully.

He knew he needed to tell you. Right here, right now, he needed to tell you the truth.

“Y/N.” Sunghoon gasped, breaking the kiss. He was leaning back now, his weight resting on his left elbow. The desperation and urgency with which you’d come onto him had been more than he could handle. “I need to tell you something.”

Your eyes remained glued to his lips and there was a tinge of disappointment on your face. As if you didn’t want to stop. As if you wanted to keep going.

With a jolt, it dawned on him that you probably wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

The epiphany alone was enough for Sunghoon to consider ditching his plan of confessing his feelings and instead close the distance between your mouths again. But, he steeled his nerves and pushed himself into a sitting position.

He didn’t bother asking you to get up from his lap nor did he bother removing his left hand from your waist. If this confession went sideways, he’d end up losing you anyway.

“What is it?” you whispered, your disappointed expression giving way to concern and nervousness. “Did I go too far? I’m sorry—”

“Stop,” Sunghoon ground out. “Please stop. Let me speak.”

You pursed your lips, but he could tell you were scared shitless. There was fear in your eyes, and he hated making you feel as though you’d done something wrong when you’d given him the one thing he’d wanted more than anything else.

“I…” Sunghoon started, forcing himself to find the courage to say the words. “Y/N, I love you.”

There it was. He’d done it. The cat was out of the bag, and all he could do now was wait with bated breath.

Your mouth parted open, but no sound came out of it. Your face was unreadable. It was void of any emotion. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Sunghoon tore his gaze from yours and let out a humourless laugh. “Right. That’s okay—”

But then he felt your hands grabbing his jaw, making him pin his attention on you again.

There was pure, unadulterated joy on your countenance, a wide smile adorning your lips. “I love you too,” you breathed. “Oh, my God, Sunghoon, I love you too.”

Sunghoon blinked. “What?” he mumbled, his mouth set in a pout due to your squishing his cheeks.

You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his puckered lips. “I love you too,” you repeated.

Gripping your hands, Sunghoon removed them from his face and stared up at you in bewilderment. “You’re serious?”

“Hasn’t it been obvious to you?”

“Hasn’t it been obvious to you?” he shot back. “I’ve loved you since high school.”

You snorted. “So have I.”

“Sophomore year.”

“Same.”

“I knew right after the homecoming ball.”

“Sucker!” you exclaimed. “I knew right after the game!”

Sunghoon frowned. “It’s not a competition, Y/N,” he said, and then added, “But if it were, I would win. The amount of effort I’ve put into hiding my feelings is insane.”

“Sure,” you drawled. “That’s why all my followers keep saying it’s clear you’re in love with me.”

The tips of his ears turned red in embarrassment. “You saw the comments?”

“Of course I did,” you answered, your voice soft. “I just never believed them. The notion never seemed possible. Isn’t it crazy how it was real this entire time?”

Sunghoon chuckled. “We’re idiots.”

“We are,” you said, smiling at him in affection. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have ever said anything about what I truly felt if you hadn’t found the courage to confess to me.”

“I know, I know,” you defended and rolled your eyes when he gave you a pointed look. “I did ask if I could kiss you. Trust me, I was more surprised than you were. Heck, I was fully prepared to play it off by spouting some bullshit in case you said no. What you did for me, Sunghoon… I couldn’t keep the urge inside me anymore. I didn’t care about the consequences. I didn’t care that there would be no turning back—I knew I had to take the risk. And I’m glad that I did.”

Sunghoon’s heart swelled with joy. “Me too.”

“Wait,” you said quickly. “How’d you know you were in love with me?”

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he answered, “While we were dancing at homecoming. You didn’t have a single move in you, but you didn’t wanna be the only one not dancing, so you started doing what you’d learnt in Zumba. It was hilarious—watching you be clueless but still killing it on the dance floor. It made me proud of you, but more than that, it made me realise what I felt for you.”

“Aw,” you cooed. “That’s really sweet of you, but I definitely knew what I was doing.”

“Let’s not ruin the moment by lying to each other.”

“You’re such a dork!”

“It’s your turn now!” Sunghoon grinned. “Tell me!”

“Okay, but you have to promise not to judge me,” you warned. “My story is embarrassing.”

Locking his pinkie with yours, he promised, “I won’t.”

“Remember how you sat with Yeojin at the game?” you asked, to which Sunghoon nodded. “Well, I’d been saving seats for us. I fought a lot of people to keep the seat next to me vacant, but you didn’t even acknowledge me when I called your name. Yeojin caught hold of you, and you went to sit with her without bothering to check if I was around.” Shrugging, you mumbled, “That made me mad and jealous and upset. Not just at her, but at both of you. I’d never been possessive over my friends, and I’d never felt such ugly emotions before. There was only one reasonable explanation.”

Sunghoon’s eyebrows flew up. “Woah. I’m sorry for what I did.”

“Nah, it’s cool. It was loud at the game and I don’t think you heard me.” You laughed and waved him away. “I was being petty. And I know it’s not cute like your story, but that was what made me realise there was a chance I loved you.”

“Cute or not, that was the best story I’ve ever heard,” he said cheekily. “Also, don’t get me wrong—I would love nothing more than have you sit in my lap, but I think we should finish dinner first. Let’s finish what you started once we’re done eating.”

Your eyes widened, and you scrambled away from him. “Right.”

“Wait!” Sunghoon grabbed your wrist before you could get up and go back to the other side of the table. “The asters—what do they signify?”

You smiled and leaned closer to his face, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his cheek.

“Love.”

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yuitoru · 1 month

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๑ ⋆˙⟡ ⠀ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 ⠀ ๑ ⋆˙⟡

๑ feat : lucifer morningstar , alastor

๑ cw : angst , happy ending for reader , swearing

๑ part one

today marked the one year anniversary of your separation from the king of hell, and you were happier than the previous annum. after having left the manor with nothing but the few bags of luggage to your name, you stumbled upon an establishment that had been uttered by the demons around you. the 'hazbin hotel' - whilst the name was mostly unfamiliar, you were desperate for the free accommodation, so you used whatever of the funds lucifer had left you with to make your way across the pentagram towards the hotel.

your arrival to the establishment was well-welcomed by the owner of the hotel, and the daughter of your former lover, charlie. her bubbly and warm persona was a stark contrast to the treatment you received from her father - you experienced more care and affection from the girl than you ever had from lucifer himself. the rest of the staff and guests welcomed you with warm arms, quickly making you the newest member of their supposed chosen family.

now, a year into your stay at the hazbin hotel, and you could honestly say that this was the happiest you had been in your entire life - alive, and dead. you had friends that cared about you, a fun and entertaining daily life, and your heart had begun to beat for another. despite the way he had treated you in the past, you couldnt help but feel guilty for falling for someone new. it was apparent that, no matter how hard you tried to fight it, you could never completely forget about the first man you truly fell in love with.

you had confided to charlie late one night during the first few months of your stay, when insecurity and anxiety had been plaguing your mind for days on end. you ended up sobbing to her as you spilled the details of your 'relationship' with lucifer, and the horrified expression on charlie's face only made you cry more. she held you in her arms for the remainder of your tears, until you eventually fell asleep from exhaustion. upon waking tucked into your bed the following morning, a neatly folded note laid on your bedside table, reading in neat, loopy handwriting,

'i hope youre feeling after last night. im glad that you felt comfortable enough to talk to me about that :) we saved you breakfast!' - charlie ♡

a warm smile lit up your face as you read the note, placing it back down on the bedside table before sliding out of bed and beginning your morning routine. twenty minutes later, you headed downstairs and were met with the warming scent of breakfast. in the kitchen, alastor stood by the counter, two cups of steaming hot coffee in his hands. after having noticed you, his ears shot up slightly and his smile widened almost unnoticeably. he placed a mug of coffee down by a plate of warm food, before speaking up to you.

"good morning, my dear! hope you slept well - sleep is extremely important, you know! the others are out right now, but i thought that you would appreciate some company this morning..."

you could only let out an airy laugh as you sat down, taking the neatly placed utensils into your hands and beginning your meal. the whole time, alastor ensured to keep a lively conversation running, cracking an occasional joke every so often - just so he could witness your gorgeous smile. he would never admit to it, but alastor would do anything to keep that lovely look on your face. after finishing with your breakfast, you helped alastor with the dishes before heading over to the parlour and sprawling your body over a sofa. alastor sat himself down on a nearby armchair and turned on the radio on the coffee table, and the two of you enjoyed the other's company whilst listening to soft jazz in the background.

during your stay at the hazbin hotel, your initial civil friendship with alastor began to slowly develop into something more - you two spent more and more time together, to the point where the others would get concerned if one of you was without the other. there was no suitable label to what the two of you were, but one night changed it all, redefining your entire relationship.

you were sat by the bar, maintaining a conversation with husk as you sipped on your drink. it had been a peaceful day, and the clocks were edging towards eight in the evening - the radio was on again, and everyone else was sat talking in the parlour. as you stretched your back out, you could practically sense eyes lingering on your figure, and as you turned around to see who it was, your eyes locked onto alastor's, who just sent you a grin. standing up from his chair, he made his way towards you and sat in the vacant bar stool next to you. husk just glanced at him before beginning to make his drink that he knew by heart from being around the radio demon for far too long, in husk's opinion. you sent alastor a small smile, mumbling out softly,

"hi, al, everything okay?," you asked him, swirling your drink around, watching the liquid slide down the side of the glass. alastor chuckled quietly - that being his response to your question. you could tell he was thinking about something, and when husk handed him his drink, he took a deep sip of the strong whiskey before sighing.

"im fine, sweetheart. ive just been thinking a lot, thats all," that was the only explanation he gave, clearly not wanting to say more. his ears were slightly drooped, and his body language was much more slumped and relaxed than his usual rigid and uptight stance. it was obvious that something big was on his mind, something that he needed to talk about but was reluctant to do so. with a small sigh, you gently reach your hand out and hold his cheek, turning his head to face you. it was common knowledge that alastor mostly resented physical contact, but he didnt seem to mind it as much when it was done by you. his eyes slightly widened and his smile seemed a little uncertain, as his breath hitched.

it might have been the already building alcohol in his system, but in that moment, he swore you looked like an angel, by some cruel twisted fate. you looked heavenly in his eyes, something too pure for the depths of hell to corrupt. without even thinking straight, his lips were pressed against your cheek, before pulling away just as fast as it had happened. you could only stare at him in shock as your hand shot up to clutch the area alastor had kissed. by this point, husk had already moved over to the parlour, not wanting to witness the grossly romantic scene in front of him, and avoiding the possibility of alastor attempting to kill him for being too close to him and you.

"alastor.." was all you could say, your heart and brain alike going into overdrive. it had been way too long since you had been kissed so tenderly, or even kissed at all - lucifer never initiated a kiss during your relationship. you stared at the radio demon in shock, before an idea of your own crossed your mind. leaning your face closer to his, you whispered out, "kiss me properly," before pressing your lips against his. the kiss didnt last that long, but it was enough - enough for the two of you to accept all your suppressed feelings for the other, and for alastor to formerly ask you to be his lover.

now, you were walking down the stairs of the hotel, dressed in an oversized zip-up hoodie that covered up to your mid thigh, and warm baggy shorts. you had slept in after a tiring evening, and were making your way down to have coffee with everyone else, as everyone usually did in the mornings. what you werent expecting, however, was to see the whole hotel decorated with an assortment of decorations, but more surprisingly, your former lover standing in the entryway of the hotel. you froze from where you stood on the landing tread of the stairs, not wanting to believe what you were seeing. your heart began racing and your body started to tremble as you watched lucifer turn around and lock eyes with you - him sharing your shocked expression. you averted your gaze to charlie, who could only give you an apologetic look, before you quickly turned around and darted back up the stairs towards your room.

lucifer just watched you scramble away with a conflicted look in his eyes, his grip on his cane tightening significantly. he still remembered the look on your face when you left the manor a year ago, and the confusingly painful emptiness in his heart that followed after your absence. he turned to look at his daughter, a hint of betrayal lingering in his gaze.

"you never mentioned that she was here," he mumbled out, watching as charlie could only sigh and look down at her dad. before she even responded, alastor turned to walk towards the stairs, calling out in an obnoxious tone, "im going to go check on my lover, if thats alright. feel free to continue this social setting without me," was all he said, as he began climbing up the stairs. his usual grin only widened as he felt lucifer's stare on his back, knowing that he had successfully pissed off the king of hell.

you were curled up underneath your duvet, sobbing quietly. you had thought that you were completely over lucifer, but deep down, your heart would always unconsciously yearn for him. the soft knock on your door didnt even register in your mind, nor did the creaking of the door hinges. the dipping of the mattress was what finally snapped you out of your self-pitying trance. a gentle hand reached down to lift the duvet off of your body, and it traced the soft features of your face.

"dont cry over him, my dear. im here, am i not?" the sound of alastor's voice caused you to slowly sit up from your previously curled position on your bed. looking up at him with teary eyes, you couldnt help your sniffling as you tried to stop yourself from crying even more . alastor just silently opened his arms for you, which you gladly accepted and crawled into his comforting embrace.

meanwhile, lucifer was pacing the lobby downstairs, his grip on his cane so strong it threatened to break the metal staff. his mind was racing; his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. of course he knew that you would move on after the break up, but with the radio demon? moreover, he certainly wasnt expecting to see you again, especially at his daughter's hotel out of all places. hundreds of thoughts swarmed lucifer's head, buzzing all around like a beehive. he knew that this had all first started because of him - he was the one to selfishly lead you on and break your heart, and now he had to pay the price of his actions. despite his overwhelming and eternal love for his first wife, you had filled the void in his heart without him ever truly realising it. or maybe he did realise, and chose to run away instead of coming to terms with his feelings. but now, it was all too late. you had moved on, and were happier with someone else.

all he could do was watch silently as you were nuzzled up on alastor's lap later that evening, your face tucked into the radio demon's neck. he was forced to come to terms with how much he had messed up, and lost against love for the second time in his life.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar

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tomorrcwz · 1 month

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✰ HELPING HANDS, LANDOSCAR

[ preview ] in which fem!reader is helping out oscar's puppy love on his teammate lando without realising the consequences

[ tw ] mostly landoscar, swear words, smut (+18) - threesome, dom!osc, switch!lando, pussy eating, missionary position, daddy +sir kink, praise kink, raw sex (use condoms, stay safe 'n clean), aftercare

. previous | minors do not read | masterlist .

you indeed landed in their cushy bed, just the imagination didn't match reality; in the men's eyes all of you wore too many layers of clothes (you did look hot in the retro styled mclaren shirt of lando and a pair of panties tho), slightly ruining their last resort of getting this off the table or rather in the sheets.

so unlike you, you didn't began to feel fuzzy, you just relaxed in the covers, watching in utter childlike fascination how katara from the last airbender challenged a clan master to duel right in front of a sea of strangers. "d'you reckon she'll win, little one?", lando wanted to break the case, trying to hold his cool, while quite literally hiding (and grinding) his bulge behind his partner's back as he had starred a bit too long on your plump round ass. in a world full of men and woman, he was just a man lusting after osc and you.

he couldn't help himself from growing hard — your ass poked underneath the white shirt, showing off your thick tights, he'd love to feel around his head, and those smoothly looking legs would make a suitable cage for oscar's waist, while he hovered over you, fucking you to an orgasm.

imagine, imagine.

the brit didn't know how oscar wasn't as horny as he was whilst having the front view of your body.

you groaned. "nah, yeah, I don't know but nonetheless it's a girl boss move and 'm here for it. now please shut up, lan", you begged, flitting your eyes towards his face shortly to catch him already openly glazing at you.

above all laws of relationship, lando broke the wall as his lips moved faster than his brain, declaring that she should make him shut up, tone low and suggestive, causing the room and time to freeze it seemed. "treasure", his lover gasped, eyebrows knitted as he cracked his knuckles nervously, quite shooked about the outburst.

laughing weirdly, you search for oscar's reaction, an angry gaze or unimpressed rolling of his eyes but you saw an empty face, no emotion for you read and understand. "what did you say?", the question sounded aggressive coming from you. "have you got no shame, norris?" fastly standing up your feet, you peer at osc for the second time. "I— I'll leave you alone, sorry, i—"

"there's nothing to be sorry about, sweets", the younger man instantly replied and then turned his head sideways to his partner with a grim look. "you on the other hand should be apologise to her. now, off you go." he made a hush hush gesture towards his somehow yet secret crush, observing the interaction; as lan crawled forward in your direction, you meekly held onto the small table, which presented books none of them read by the dusty looks of it and a bulky candle holder. you didn't dare to take a breath, even when lando kneeled under your nose, his fingers closing around your naked legs, and just looked up, desperate for your attention, to serve you in a way?

"is it okay for him to carry on, sweets?", oscar asked, having moved down the bed to manspread his gorgeous tights whilst you were lost in this, whatever happened. "take a breather, yeah? that's a good girl."

lando, still down for you, bat his long eyelashes at you. "please, little one, i'd do anything for you." "course you do, you're a greedy man, treasure. give him the permission to eat your kitten, hm?"

your mind must play you tricks.

"I don't understand", you finally reached your words. "you're together, i— we're friends." a nervous cough stuck in your throat. "i'm not sure this is the correct direction . ."

"ah ah ah sweets, no need to lie to yourself — this, this hasn't been a friendship for us for a while now, no?", he looked at lando's curly hair crown that shimmered under the bad lightning, getting a tiny whimmer out of the lover. "we want to add you, the feelings are there. just let us show you first and later in the morning we can do all the talking. my man is hungry for you, cant you see?"

you observe lando; his lips were already plump but now they were raw bitten and swollen, as was his length that drew though the thin material of his shorts and bend more to the left. the grip you had on the dresser grew stronger as you nod shyly, wetness polling inside your panties which lando pulled to the side, letting his tongue flicker up your slit to your clit, sucking on it harshly. moaning, a hand of yours sank in his hair, wanting him to lick you faster — you gasped, head lulling to your left shoulder and your back arched when he slowly inserted a finger, then another and third, fingering you. lando's hot tongue worked you up, circling around your throbbing clit. then a much larger hand joins yours, interlocking in the man's hair and there was the chin growth of lan, scratching your inner tights and making them shake, all while oscar smacked his lips onto yours, dragging his free hand behind your head to hold you in place, groaning as he felt a tear escaped the corner of your eye, gliding down his thumb.

"you're doing so well, sweets", he mumbled between kisses. "cum for us."

time almost seems to come to an halt as both men feel your body goes stiff, clenching around lan's fingers, pools of fire seeping low in your abdomen, steering you right off the edge whilst continuing to pump his fingers rapidly in and out of you, till you hooked your arms 'round the aussies strong neck to support you upwards.

when you opened your eyelids, gaze hazy and lustfilled, lando grinned devilish, wetness dripping down his chin and wrist, and he didn't move, no, he rather pressed his face back home, nose spitting the folds, too addicted to your scent and taste — if it wasn't for the small jumps, a reminder of how tense you were, oscar would've locked his lover's greedy mouth on you for forever. but this wasn't it; he wanted more. adoration and excitement graced on his heated cheeks, "hop on the bed, sweets, i think you're ready f'me", he declared, voice sunken an octave deeper, letting you know that he had enjoyed the display very much. "can't have lan have all the fun tonight."

he shoves you gently on the bed, spreading your naked glory; tears had stained your cheeks, both pairs of lips coated in wetness and fluttering in anticipation of what he had in store — oscar threw a look above his shoulder at lando, who had taken your place, big hand engulfing his hard swollen dick.

granted, osc's heavier toned body lifted itself above yours, leaking tip rubbing over your cunt until he just sank in your soft, warm walls and he swore that he found another paradise; his muscles flex repeatedly as he fucked inside, thoughts swarming but not making any sense anymore because this was it — euphoria ran though his body like a wildfire and he couldn't stop sinking his dick all the way into your helpless, squeezing cunt.

in the middle of grovelling moans and desperate cries, it was lando who spoke up, falling next to you on the bed to pinch and twist your nipples. "how does it feel, daddy?"

"so good, so tight, sir", he brummed, interlacing his fingers with those on your tits to guide them south your body were a slight bulge was showcased. "she takes me like a good girl should, isn't that true, sweets?" too which you hummed in agreement. both pairs of eyes stare at you, waiting for the approaching orgasm to crush you and leave you in bliss only sex could gift. "yes, she does, looks beautiful taking you." and with that lan pressed his hand down where his lover's cock locked up inside, coaxing another mess out of you, your voice singing high and the vision got blurry. "s' good daddy", you screamed, pussy still tightening around his length, making it impossible to move. he cursed as you milked him so hard he came inside. you pant and heaved; his thrusts got lazy and eventually stopped, pulling out off you to lay besides you as he watched the brit tugging his fist up his cock, taking in his position to ram himself in your abused cunt to dump his cum.

"little one, you're a star", he harshly gritted though bitten teeth before his bodyweight relaxed on yours, leaning in to steal a kiss from your lips. "now, cuddle me, osc will clean you up", lando smiled as he pulled out, watching the mixed white cum tickled out of you.

POLY/MULTI DRIVERS — SINGULAR DRIVERS

wanna be tagged in the next part/spin-off/blurbs of helping hand? comment below :)

🗝 . . . tag list (open) — @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @vellicora @jupiter-je-taime @denisebeee @jaehyunluvcult @chezmardybum@koalalafications @thebook-bitch @ln4norizz @entr4p3 @67-angelofthelordme-67

#landoscar #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #f1 #smut

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abbyonmars · 4 months

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cw; fem!reader, mentions of sex, swearing.

wc: 1.7k. angst/fluff.

this is also kinda toxic imo sorry x

ellie can't won't sleep without having you in her arms.

but since the sun's setting your evening looked like hours of waiting for her. spamming her phone, chewing unsparingly at your already short and mutilated nails, heart beating relentlessly in your chest — all in result of each rapid thought that gushed through the boundless blackhole that was your worried mind, and the ceaseless growing pit of anxiety that dropped to endless oblivion in your stomach.

she had told you before she left that she would be back by 7:00pm to watch that movie she promised to watch with you. the one in which being the sequel to your favourite franchise, as well as it being the movie you had been begging her to come see with you for weeks. not only this, but it also happened to be your one year anniversary with her; you had spent so much time and effort to weave in a plethora of sentiments like dinner and gifts that you thought she would like and so patiently, you sat cross-legged on your side of the bed like the good, loyal girlfriend you were, waiting for her to come home.

and since hours before, you had been dolled up and ready to see her. your hair was intricately made, glitter was tapped to your eyelids — and underneath your tightly hugging button up and the thin fabric of your skirt laid a set of pretty pink lacy lingerie you were excited to surprise her with later.

but you were sat there for hours. you watched the clock turn from 7:00pm to 8, 8:00 to 9. but 9:00pm turned to 10, which soon turned into 12am and yet, no ellie.

some would argue that this isn't such a deal. you could claim your own indifference — just tuck yourself in, indulge in that perpetual doom-scroll before you fall asleep. you could just ask about her whereabouts in the morning, just don't make this such a big thing. she probably just happened to have too much fun.

however, this has happened one too many times, too many times for you to count. making in advance plans only to have her screw you over without word, continuously coming home to you with the same and overused, pathetic excuses that always resulted in an argument and tears — notwithstanding the heated make-up sex she'd treat you to in order to to ease her 'guilt' and to compensate for her assholery that day.

but this time you decided you were tired of waiting. you didn't feel like having that habitual screaming match at whatever time she'd decide to come home that night and you knew that whatever you did, you would always end up in the same predicament that was reimbursing your forgiveness, despite constantly being treated similar to the dirt barred between the crevices in her converse soles.

'she can do whatever she wants.' you tried to reassure yourself; after all, no one was there to do it for you. why fret? 'i'm not her mother. i don't control her.'

with your back turned to her side of the bed, you tried your best to fall asleep, watching the moon's gentle spill of light from the glass window of the room with half-shut eyes. for now, you were at some state of serenity, finding solace in the teasing winks of twinkling stars and small snippets of the wind's light whistles.

you'd been half-asleep for longer than you thought, merely lost in your absent thoughts about anything but her. but soon, it wasn't just you and the moon — interruption came by the creaking of the bedroom door along with the obnoxiously bright and artificial light that forced itself in through the crack of the entrance. by then you knew she was back, but you remained still and seemingly unstirred by her entry.

"babe," she whispered, her enunciation almost blending in with the wind's breeze. "you awake?"

but you stayed silent. no longer watching the darkened skies, you froze, shutting your eyes without any utterance and really tried to fall asleep that time — a few moments had passed, and your mind had eventually come to being on the brink of unconsciousness, almost derailed of its endless foreboding.

you shouldn't have gotten used to the feeling of your head no longer spinning, nor the induced tranquillity by being solitary. because once you felt the bed dip in next to you, your stomach was suddenly in knots all over again. all the progress towards the settlement you were better off with was expeditiously diminished, and all from hearing a singular sigh from the girl next to you.

although you tried your best to contain it, a sole tear happened to roll down your reddened cheeks, and a small sniffle was made from your allegedly sleeping peace.

"baby," she breathed, sliding her cold hands onto your bare shoulder, "you're awake - listen, i'm sorry i didn't call, or—"

with an abrupt movement you turned to face her with wrinkled eyebrows and a scrunched face, lips turned downward into a lip-bitten frown and with eyes that turned glassy instantaneously. she met you now with a similar looking frown as she eyed the fresh dampness of your cheeks, her stomach now swirling with shame.

"where were you?" you rasped. you took in a sharp and shaking breath, watching the way her blinking green eyes bored back into yours. "where were you?"

"i'm sorry," she answered, her voice quietening to a murmur upon seeing your eyes roll in response. "i just lost track of time—"

you scoffed. letting out a dry chuckle, you swallowed down the lump that threatened to form in your throat, well aware of the one also forming in hers. "we had plans. don't you care about me?"

with that, her eyes widened as she instantly sat up, and her voice all of a sudden grew louder in her attempt to defend herself.

"what? of - of course i care about you, y/n. i just—"

"you just, what?" you huffed, sitting up next to her. "you just - lost your phone? couldn't get away? or did you just.. forget? because, i wouldn't be surprised if you did, since—"

"jesus, will you just let me talk?" she muttered exasperatedly, bringing up a hand to rub her temples with her thumb and first two fingers. "y'know, you're always jumping to these ridiculous excuses. just let me explain."

"fuck, i wonder why," you sighed. sarcastically smiling, you leaned forward to your knees, delving your face into the palms of your hands. "do you even know what today was?"

she blinked. she let a beat of silence pass, her mouth being slightly hung open with a sort of blank cluelessness. "... w-what?"

and came another scoff from you and weak tears slipping from your orbs, you responded, "our anniversary. our one year, together."

as if she couldn't feel or look any worse than she did now, blood drew from her face, bestowing upon her freckled cheeks the palest you have ever seen her look. she withdrew a quiet breath, sliding her narrow fingers up her neck and over her mouth as she payed mind to the growing disappointment on your face.

you waited for any development of voice, but alas, to nothing. you bit your lip, muttering a quiet, 'forget it' as you turned over to lay on your side, and your head plunged back into the sinking air of your pillow as you pulled the duvet up to cover the shivers upon your bare neck.

she sighed. sliding her hand back onto your shoulder in a forbearing attempt to get you to turn back to her, she gritted her teeth and her hand moved away once you shook her off, only tucking yourself tighter into the covers.

"go to sleep, ellie," you muttered, sniffling once more.

"baby — please. you are so important to me."

"sleep."

forthwith, ellie grew tense. her other hand shot up to nervously rub at the lobe of her ear as she continued to plead with you, but having unsuccessfully drawn any sort of amenable answer she eventually gave up, deciding that she'd push for some stage of absolution of the sort in the morning.

but having barely endured the unresponsiveness from you, the next half hour was spent restlessly by the girl; within short intervals she kept shuffling an uncomfortable amount in her space, consequently perturbing you each time. it took quite an ounce of strength not to tell her to stop because you knew that if you took action, she'd take it as an initiative to talk again.

yet unknowingly, you were in that same dilemma. your side of the bed felt particularly colder than normal, and your heart spiked with something other than your determining stubbornness — suddenly, you no longer felt consoled by the room's solitude from earlier. even with her next to you, you couldn't have felt more alone.

"y/n," she whispered. "i know you're awake."

you sniffed. shuffling slightly in place, the warmth that you were well accustomed to gradually felt like it moved closer to your own body, and you felt the light graze of her fingers once more, skimming gently along your arm.

"please," she breathed. "angel, i- i can't sleep. let me touch you."

a moment's hesitance happened to come alongside a huff that indicated you finally caving into her touch. without turning you reached for her hand and you threw it around your waist, squeezing your eyes shut in slight regret and yet, ease.

letting out a small sigh of relief, she tightened her hold around your torso and pressed your back up to the front of her body. her hand moved to the dip of your hip and stayed there, and you could feel her heart racing against you — somehow, even after the torment she unintentionally put you through, your own stomach swarmed with butterflies and the tension within you dissipated almost in an instant.

"thank you," she mumbled, lips lingering around the crook of your neck. she moved your hair aside, planting soft kisses up the skin of your tensed shoulder and to your ear.

"i'll make it up to you," her warm breath hit your skin and tickled the back of your ear, the rasping of her low voice sending a different ray of knots into your stomach. "i promise."

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

hii i'm back

i hope you're all well :')

pls let this be a (very poor) reminder to not let anybody treat you less than you're worth. if this happened to hit home, i'm sorry — know that whatever you've been through, you are worthy of love and respect. please don't think otherwise

#ellie williams #lesbian #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #tlou2 #the last of us 2 #the last of us part 2 #tlou ellie #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams angst #the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #wlw

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seravphs · 10 months

Text

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — MIYA ATSUMU x FEM READER

Being hot at the grocery store should be illegal.

wc — 800

tags — grocery store meet cute, set in the same universe as the way to the heart is through the stomach

“There is an attractive man on the other side of the grocery aisle,” you hiss at Kiyoko. Your roommate had dragged you out for a grocery run, but as the person who forced you out of the comfort of your home, she could stand to be a little nicer to you.

Instead, she raises an eyebrow; her face conveying utter disdain, confusion, and slight pity at all once. It’s a little impressive, honestly.

She peeks between the cracks in the shelves. Looks at you. Looks at the man. Looks at you again. She makes a motion that could be what are you waiting for or let the grandma pass so she can get her multivitamins.

Sometimes it’s complicated when it comes to Kiyoko. She’s not great at talking without words. It’s because she’s spoiled. Must be nice to have a boyfriend who loves you so fully you don’t have to try to be understood, you think with a hint of jealousy.

Then, she pushes you towards the other aisle in a gesture that’s unmistakable.

“Kiyoko!” You’re appalled. “You’re not making me go over there. I’m wearing my pajamas!”

Your pajamas are grey sweats with multiple suspicious stains from ketchup or blood or some other substance. You’re not sure. That’s why it’s suspicious.

“Okay? He looks worse,” she says. Notably, she doesn’t tell you that you look fine.

She probably thinks that’s reassuring. It’s not.

The fact that he’s also in his pajamas and still looks hot is infuriating.

And very sexy.

Terribly so.

“Just go talk to him,” she says. “You know if you don’t you’ll be thinking about him for days, anyway.”

“I will not!”

“Excuse me,” says the hot stranger, who in the time that you spent arguing with Kiyoko, has suddenly moved behind you. “Do ya mind?”

He’s gesturing at the package of cereal behind you.

You freeze. How did he move so quietly? And had he heard the conversation between you two?

“Hello?” He waves his hand in your face - a little rudely. That deducts one point from his overall hotness score. You scramble away, giving him access to the shelf.

“This is my favorite brand,” he says conversationally, “but my brother got a girlfriend lately, and every time she comes to our apartment she eats all of mine. I’ve told her not to like six million times! And he’s a chef! Why are ya even eatin’ processed junk if ya can get yer professional chef of a boyfriend to make ya whatever ya want? He’s so whipped, I swear.”

“Aren’t- aren’t you also eating processed junk, then?” You say with trepidation.

He brushes you off with a “No, that’s different.”

He’s…a little weird. Who just talks to a stranger like that? You have to admit that confidence is attractive - even if you’re not sure if it’s confidence or narcissism as he continues.

“So, like. Are ya going to ask me out or what?”

You choke on your own spit. He had overheard. There would be no better time for one of these shelves to fall on you and crush you instantly.

“Woah!” Says the hot stranger, who still hasn’t told you his name before commanding you to ask him out. “Ya okay?”

He slaps your back as you wheeze for breath - hard. Is he an athlete in his spare time? How does anyone have that kind of arm strength?

“I-“ You shut your mouth because actually, you don’t know what to say. How do you respond to that?

“Come on,” says Mr. Bad Bleach Job. “I heard ya and yer little friend talking about me all the way down the aisle. I know you want in on this sexy ass.”

He’s ridiculous. Are you - are you into that? You’re seriously reevaluating your mental health even as you say, almost to your own surprise, “Can I take you on a date?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I dunno. Can ya make it a little more romantic?”

“Why don’t you ask me out if you’re going to be so demanding?” You challenge.

“Sure,” he says easily. “Wanna go out? We can get fancy sushi for fun and eat McDonald’s after cause that’s real food.”

Even you can’t tell if the noise that escapes you is a laugh or a sigh. What have you gotten yourself into?

“Whatever,” you say, handing him your phone. “I think mine was better.”

“They both kind of sucked. 5/10 for execution, -2 for sheer cringe, -3 for awkwardness.”

“Kiyoko, read the room.”

#sera writes #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq fluff

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https-furina · 8 months

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✎ i wasn’t ready to say goodbye [various men - part two] ft. lyney, zhongli, childe, ayato, alhaitham, cyno & tighnari x fem!reader content: angst, heavy trigger warnings for death, blood, injuries, gore & murder, fontaine archon quest spoilers (lyney), hurt no comfort, suggestive for a moment (zhongli), sumeru archon quest spoilers (alhaitham), ooc ayato (i'm not confident with him, sorry) not proofread.

detective's notes. this is the second part to the 'i wasn't ready to say goodbye' series i've started following aly's request, which is part one and you can find it here.

lyney put a lot of trust and faith into you the moment you'd uttered precious sweet nothings to him and promises you swore you'd keep. the magician was hopeful that for once potentially things were going right, he was landing on his feet if it wasn't for the heavy, nagging feeling working for the fatui left on his shoulders. it suffocated him, no matter how many loving smiles you'd send his way. he could drown every moment in your familiar scent - his home, his four walls but it would never rid him of his actions.

even when he so blindly puts that trust and faith into the auspicious blond traveler travelling teyvat and bringing nothing but destruction in their wake.

a shaking gloved hand reaches out for your silhouette against the backdrop of crackling fires, embers rising into the deep night sky like fireflies. dilated lilac eyes search your facial expressions but they keep trailing that to that blade piercing through your abdomen, soaked in the precious liquid you need so desperately. he doesn't understand - he didn't do anything wrong. he'd followed every rule in the book, he'd been a good man, he swears! yet that look of fear on your face and the hatred in the traveler's eyes... he's lost. the traveler yanks their arm back, withdrawing their sword without another word. no explanation, nothing that could ease lyney's mind as he rushes forward to catch you in his arms, falling to the floor with you when your vision darkens. the loss of the blade in your wound results in a heavier blood loss, nothing is there to stagger the waterfall that leaks through your attire and lyney is desperately pressing his hands to your wound but to no avail. "y/n?" he murmurs, panicked and breathless as he hyperventilates and his eyes burn from tears. your eyelashes are fluttering, lips parted as shallow breaths escape you but no words come out. you do not respond, prompting lyney to continue begging you, "please, hold on, i'm sorry - i'm so sorry y/n-" he doesn't care to know where the traveler disappeared to. the fires roar louder in his ears, competing with the rush of blood that's sending him crazy. he can hear his own pulse thudding, heavy as he watches the light drain from your eyes. words are flurrying from his lips, his voice cracking as he wonders whether begging to the hydro archon will get him anywhere. but it doesn't when your tense shoulders fall limp, your head rolling to the side as one last breath intakes into your lungs. he promised you his work would never affect you. he promised the traveler his eternal loyalty and the concept that he was a good guy. he never lied but when he's sobbing into the crook of your neck, hugging your body close, he can't help but think his entire being was built on a web of tightly knit lies created by the fatui.

zhongli vowed that falling in love with a mortal would be unwise, he knew from the very start when amber eyes as warm as cor lapis landed on you from across the room. it was like there was a pull, a tug in your direction and the benevolent man had no choice but to approach - just like that you had the archon wrapped around your finger, not that you knew. he couldn't tell you, no, that would be even more unwise and he'd already made one grave mistake swallowing pretty moans when his lips pressed to yours in the dead of the night.

but if it had protected you from those who wanted his blood, who wanted him to hurt and his heart to ache, would it have been wise? for then, he would not have to relive this stabbing grief once more.

sal terrae remained one of his favourite spots of his country, with dazzling waterfalls and memoirs of the god of salt - a memory long drifting away - he could spend days here, camped out under a tree and listening to the calm that nature brings. but this is not the sal terrae he remembers, no. not the blood splattered on the dirt ground beneath you or the way there's a small, delicate red river trickling out of the corner of the mouth he'd kissed so many times before. he should have known not to trust the fatui the way he had whilst they were in liyue - specifically that damn ginger harbinger and the bank. he scowls, brows knitting together as he hesitantly takes a step forward. he considers whether you'll yell at him, scream and cry out in anger for his mistakes. after all, perhaps you would have not been pierced in the chest so brutally had he protected you and even more so, if he hadn't lied about his identity. you don't. you gasp out for breath, choking on blood as you cough it up. it dribbles down your chin, an horrific scene. he'd seen many in his thousands of years walking teyvat, he'd seen so much mortal blood it felt like water by this point but seeing your specific blood clawed at his heart. he wishes he could forget the vision, forget the way there are tears glittering as they spill down your cheeks. zhongli feels an immense amount of guilt and he knows the heavy weight of it will drag on his ankles for the rest of his existence. "z-zhongli?" you croak out, your vision blurring as you make out the tall man from where he stands. you reach out, your hand covered in your own blood from where you were just holding your chest. blood seeps through your clothing, the reality is starting to hit zhongli more. he approaches quicker, hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs wipe your tears. he isn't sure how to comfort you - perhaps he can't. the adrenaline is fading, you're feeling the burn of your wound every time you gasp for breath. your lungs hurt, your head feels light. zhongli wraps an arm around your waist quickly when your knees give in, lowering you to the ground softly. he kneels at your side, swallowing the lump in his throat. "i'm... i'm sorry, my love..." he whispers, unsure if that's the apology he wants to drop right now. you're fading in and out of consciousness, your bloodied hand clutching at his coat as if he's the one who is going to fade away at any moment now. zhongli grimaces, the unfamiliar sting of tears in his eyes as he watches the way your chest doesn't rise again.

childe cherishes you to the point of possession. you're the best thing that's ever happened to him, he'll remind you at least once daily. if it doesn't come out of his mouth verbally, he'll show it in the form of actions, gifts, anything he can consider a love language - you have to convince him that killing people who look in your direction is not a love language.

his wealth brings unnecessary trouble as well as his association with the northland bank. there are many souls in liyue who would crave for an ounce of it, at any means possible.

he doesn't remember ever giving you a reason to leave the front door wide open - not that you need a reason but it's the peak of winter in liyue and you always complain at the thought of heat escaping through cracks in the window. upon closer inspection, the harbinger sees that the door handle is busted, hanging on by a limb. there's a sudden pang of anxiety in his chest, his gloved hand pushing the door wide open. childe is met with the sights of shattered glass and broken pottery, porcelain decorating wooden floorboards. there's a lump in his throat now, making it hard to breathe as he calls your name out and begins to frantically search your shared house. he can hear your whimpers, your soft begs to not hurt you as he approaches the kitchen. there's a bloodied kitchen knife on the floor beside you but his eyes land sooner on the puddle of deep red liquid staining your clothes and the floorboards beneath you. the blood is seeping from your neck, your voice strangled and gurgled when you cough up more blood onto the floor. your fearful eyes meet his blue ones and you choke out a sob. "c-childe- ajax.." you cry out any name you can but it's barely a whisper when you finally realise there's no one else here to attack you. his eyes are cold, his blood running even colder when he grips at the bow in his hands, his knuckles turning white and he swears he'll kill whoever did this to you. he swears that they'll feel his wraith, he'll spill their blood and he'll taint teyvat's ocean with it until they remember his archons forsaken name. when he doesn't respond to his name, you sob once more and he snaps to reality, dropping his bow as he kneels at your side. he peels his gloves off, his hands still warm as he clears your neck to look at your wound clearer. you wince, whimpering and whining at any form of contact as you grow fainter, hands weakly grabbing at childe's clothing. "i'll kill them, i swear baby - i'll make them pay, they'll regret ever coming near you-" childe's tone is sharp, stabbing the solemn air as you struggle to breathe, gasping for your final breaths. you can't even form the words to argue back against him, to tell him that killing people doesn't solve everything. that silence kills him. it sends him insane as he watches you helplessly die in front of him. he hyperventilates, brows knit together in frustration. you were supposed to argue back, tell him he's wrong. why didn't you? he shakes your shoulders gently but you're limp, unresponsive.

ayato is not a man of many words nor actions, you should have seen it coming the moment you married a socialiate, let alone the head of his clan. the man has an image to maintain and that is not limited to the likes of his wife either. you do not mind, heavily avoiding the limelight of inazuma's tabloids. ayato can do many things to protect you from scenarios like that as the commissioner of the yashiro commission.

he could not have foreseen enemy clans using you, his devoted wife against him and he could have not particularly predicated this scenario.

"who did this?" his words cut the silence, it's tense and heavy. all that resonates in the courtyard is your desperate gasps for breath, your brows knitted together as you try to recall anything about your attackers but nothing comes of it. there's no one but the two of you around, ayato had long sent everyone on a wild goose chase to find who did this to you. red soaks the white of his sleeves, hanging in the pool of blood you lay in. ayato lets out a shaking breath, there's a tight feeling in his chest. did he feel guilt? potentially. he trusted himself enough to protect you, he swore he'd never fail you. it seems he'd failed himself in that regard too. "i-i... love you..." you whisper shakily, weak and barely audible above the winds of inazuma that blow through the kamisato estate's courtyard. ayato grimaces, a cool hand cupping the soft skin of your cheek. shadowed eyes belonging to that of your beloved husband drink in the sights of your blemishes, your insecurities - the things that he has forever found beautiful. "yes... yes, i know, dear," he reassures softly, his voice cracking ever-so-slightly as he gives you a broken smile, "i love you too." you're beginning to fade out of consciousness, the blood loss taking you in its toll when your chest becomes heavy and you're struggling to find the strength to breathe. ayato coaxes you to keep going, to keep trying for him. just hold on a little longer, he promises, clasping your bloodied hands in his. he does not care for the liquid staining his clothing, it is yours and anything of yours is precious to him. but his reassurances and promises begin to fall on deaf ears when he is the only person left breathing in the courtyard of his home, his sacred sanctuary he swore would be safe for you. it's always been safe for him but as he cries out into the night, exposing his vulnerability in the moment of being alone, he wonders why it could have not been for you, truly.

alhaitham claims he has no reasoning for falling in love. he's a busy man, especially when he's thrust into the role of the acting grand safe following his expeditions helping the traveler free lesser lord kusanali. but between stacks of paperwork and arguing with one particular blond in the house of daena, turquoise eyes find you, another ordinary scholar of the akademiya. he swears he had no intentions of knowing you further than polite words shared as you pass each other in the halls.

is that why months later when he doesn't hear from you while you're out researching in the desert, he decides to go searching for you in a worry he'd never voice aloud?

thick, red liquid is binding the sand together under you, dripping from your open wound across your side. your attire is ripped, the wind occasionally blowing sharp granules of sand onto your exposed wound and causing you to yell out in pain. alhaitham is pale, his eyes wide. he should have trusted his gut sooner when you stopped writing back to him, keeping him updated on your adventures out in the desert. better yet, perhaps he should have just came with you in the first place. there are no polite words shared in the heavy atmosphere as you pant for breath. alhaitham is no better, struggling to breathe at the sight of one of the only people he'd allowed this close bleeding out in front of him. his eyes don't leave your wound, you're way too far from the bimarstan for him to get you help. you fall to your knees and alhaitham follows, his hands fumbling as he struggles to remove his cloak and wrap it around your shoulders. you're in the middle of the desert and yet you're drenched in a cold sweat, hugging his cloak around you tighter. you breathe in his familiar scent, it's warm and hugs you back. it's comforting when the wound burns harsher on your side. alhaitham should have known better than to let you venture into the desert alone, the guilt biting at him aggressively when he pulls you into his chest, burying his face into your hair. he drinks you in, feeling your shallow breaths against the shell of his ear. he listens helplessly as the seconds between your breaths become longer and they become quieter to the point he no longer feels them anymore. he refuses to pull away from you, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck as your skin turns cold beneath him. he's in denial, his breaths struggled when your arms fall from around him, limp. just a little longer... he'll wake up and you'll be in front of his desk once more, that wide smile almost rubbing off on him.

cyno warned you the moment you'd figured you had a chance at getting so close to the general mahamatra - he worked a dangerous job and not only that, he himself was a dangerous man. yet you were stubborn, initiating a conversation with him any chance you got. had he been on an expedition recently? did he have any criminal arrest stories to tell your curious mind? cyno could almost chuckle at how much his work did not seem to bother a citizen like you.

he should have held his breath as he ran from the akademiya to treasures street, having been told of a murder happening in broad daylight of sumeru's summer.

"what happened?" "oh archons.." "is she dead?" cyno scowls at all the voices, the questions, the intrusion of a victim's privacy as he pushes through the crowds of civilians. his brows are knit together, trying to comprehend the idea that someone would be brave enough to commit such a vile act in broad daylight like this. a matra tries to stop him, reassuring him the case is covered but cyno shakes his head, pushing further. ruby eyes fall to the body that lies on the ground, half covered by a white sheet. the pavement below is pooled in blood that seeps through the cracks and stains the cream colour of the tiles, soaking into the white sheet being used cover for privacy. he takes note of that familiar anklet around the victim's ankle and it feels as though his whole world just came crashing. "general mahamatra, sir?" the matra from before asks wearily, appearing beside him as cyno is yet to say anything. there's a lump in cyno's throat that won't budge even though he keeps swallowing, he tries to put it down to dehydration in the summer heat but he's never struggled before, "eremites, sir." cyno wanders to you slowly, catching sight of the way your familiar hair spills out from underneath the sheet. he was hoping that the anklet was just coincidence, it was a gift from him when he'd ventured to aaru village one day but that was most definitely your hair - it was definitely your hand that peeked from the cloth. he shakily reaches for it, attempting to keep his calm in front of so many eyes. the voices whisper, gasps and sorrowful when he kneels next to your body in a rigid silence, his knuckles white from his grip on your cold hand. he chews his tongue, hoping you'll wake up and scold him for having such a strong grip and not being more gentle but you don't budge. the sheet doesn't lift, the blood doesn't disappear as if it was a bad dream. he knew you'd be in danger at his side. he has enemies, many of them. ones he has never cared for before, never bothered to utter an ounce of consideration in their direction but the man was very much aware of their existence. you was a weak spot for him, a vulnerable moment with soft, shared kisses and gentle, lingering touches. he should have known. the guilt eats at him, it follows him to bed that night where the empty pillow beside him witnesses his pillow soak in salty tears.

tighnari was head over heels from the beginning. you'd finished your studies in the amurta darshan and had promptly beelined for the avidya forest to gandharva ville, much happier out in the nature than you had been cooped up in the house of daena. if anything, he also saw you as the most dedicated forest ranger in gandharva ville. he loved that particularly.

he related to your need to protect the avidya forest with your life, you was so passionate about it but he didn't expect you to physically use your life to protect it.

there was definitely something protruding from your chest, no amount of blinking was going to make it vanish now. tighnari's tail droops as he rushes to your side, sending one last arrow in the direction of a treasure hoarder, piercing him in the neck. you're alone now, left in a vulnerable state as tighnari eases you against the green grass you've valued more than your own life. "nari?" you ask softly, confused as to why those precious, fluffy ears were flattened against black hair the way that they were. tighnari assumed the adrenaline of battle hadn't fully worn off and you had caught a glimpse of the arrow buried into your heart, which was beginning to slow its pulse as it keeps your body going. blood oozes out of your ranger uniform, something you wore with the utmost pride. "i'm here, love," he chokes out, a sharp sensation stinging at emerald eyes as he pulls his gaze away from the arrow lodged in your chest to those eyes he treasured so much, "you know i love you - right? you'll always... be mine?" your brows knit together, eyes glancing over his face. why does he look so sad? the concept of him reminding you foxes mate for life was nothing new but he always seemed so joyous when he'd remind you - this was different. there's a stiff feeling in your chest and your eyes fall down to it, where tighnari's gloved hand is gently laid around an arrow pierced into your skin. he's not attempting to pull at it nor apply pressure, he is simply keeping his hand close to the thing that meant the most to him - your heart, specifically while it's still beating. "i love you too, nari." you finally realise what's happening, the corners of your vision going dark and hazy as you admire the fox male once more. he'll be the last thing you see, laying on the grass of your home, the avidya forest. he'll be your last comfort, the last thing you smell and touch. you know it was reckless to have put your life on the line in such a way but you would have done anything to protect the forest. tighnari lets out a wail into the calm of the avidya forest, praying that someone hears his cries of sorrow. your skin is cold to touch hours later but tighnari has not left your side, his tail curled around your body with only an emptiness left in his chest in your absence.

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ssweetleaf · 11 months

Text

just like heaven. part ii

| part i |

pairing— best friend’s brother!steve harrington x fem!reader

♡ summary— after catching steve in the act, you couldn’t help but admit to him how much you enjoyed his little show.

♡ includes— SMUT 18+, perv!steve, slight perv!reader, cum eating?, tit worship?, praise, unprotected p in v (please don’t do this in real life, use protection), size kink (in the steve being hung kinda way), creampie, breeding kink, terrible ending because i’m so bad at endings sorry!!!!

˖ ࣪⭑

“I-I can explain!”

Steve rushed to pull up his boxers, fist all sticky and warm, smearing against the fabric when he tucked himself inside. He really couldn’t explain, not really, not when you had watched the whole thing— his big hand enveloping his cock and stroking it like his life depended on it, your name trickling from his lips all slurred and breathy whilst he came in thick, long ropes.

Yeah, he was totally screwed.

You were as quiet as a mouse, stood awkwardly against his door, mouth stuttering like a fish out of water, just wondering what on earth to say in a moment like this— especially now that your thighs were clamped shut, rubbing together to try and get a little friction on your poor little clit when it started to pulse.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry— I know this is a little strange,” he rushed, sitting up now, thinking of reaching out for you, but deciding against it considering the state of his hand. “J-just please don’t be freaked out.”

Your eyes were as wide as saucers, blinking down at him with fluttering lashes, eyes flitting between his honeyed irises and his softening cock from underneath the confines of his boxers. Back and forth, back and forth— it didn’t help that it was still so big, clouding your mind with the filthy thoughts of getting fucked by your best friend’s older brother.

“Please don’t tell Tiffany, she’ll fucking kill me—” he rambled on and on, pleading you and apologising, though you weren’t really listening, too focused on the way the lower part of his stomach glistened with the sticky traces of his pearly cum. “—I’ll do anything, I swear! I’ll—”

“Steve-” you spoke, voice cracking a little from your lack of speech, huffing a little when he didn’t listen, just continuing his uttering, brows furrowed and his chest heaving, hair all haphazard and messy from his hands constantly tugging at it.

“I’ll understand if you never want to speak to me again, it’s just—”

“Steve!” His gaze snapped up towards you, bottom lip suckled between his teeth and he had to try and stop the sudden throbbing of his cock— you were a fucking picture before him, skimpy shorts and all, eyes all wet and swarming with something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He wondered if that’s what your pretty eyes would look like if he had his cock down your throat, but he quickly shook that thought away.

“I’m not-” you cleared your throat, fiddling with your fingers and peering down at your feet, face flushed and searing. “I’m not freaked out, Stevie.”

Stevie. He inwardly swooned, you had been calling him that ever since Tiff had introduced the two of you, and it didn’t help the swell of his cock. Such a fucking perv, he thought to himself.

“You’re not?” His eyes were big, somewhat hopeful, shifting towards the swell of your tits from underneath your top every once in a while, gulping down the spit that gathered under his tongue at the thought of your nipples all hard and pretty, his lips wrapped around them just suckling so—

“Nope.” You shook your head, “I- well I kind of liked it, I guess.”

Your cheeks burned, a flush travelling all the way down to your neck, completely embarrassed, though you hadn’t any need to be, especially since Steve literally came at the thought of you. Enough said.

Steve’s mind was in a tizzy, lashes fluttering as if he couldn’t believe the words that you had spoken— he licked his lips, reddening them further and his mouth twitched up ever so slightly.

“You did?”

“Mhm.”

There was a beat of silence, gazes heavy and warm, gulping down breaths in his stuffy room and toeing nervously at the carpet.

“Come ‘ere,” you could barely hear him, voice so soft and smooth, eagerly watching you step towards him, standing between his legs and letting your hands clutch nervously at his bare shoulders.

His eyes traveled along your body, soaking up every little bit he could get, spying every little thing that made his cock already half-hard— the picture before him just bound to stay tucked in the back of his mind until the end of fucking time.

“So pretty,” he cooed, breathy still, transfixed on the growing wet patch between your thighs, “this all for me?”

Steve’s hand, the one not covered in cum, cupped at your mound, groaning at the feeling on his palm, all warm and wet, just begging to be taken care of.

You nodded, pout prominent on your spit-slick lips, stroking at his shoulders and down his thick biceps, squeezing softly when he put the tiniest bit of pressure upon your clit.

You caught sight of his other hand— your mouth watering, a little too eager to have a taste, running your own hand along his arm before hooking your fingertips around his wrist.

You brought his hand up to your lips, pushing two of his sticky fingers between your plush lips, eyelids fluttering closed at the salty taste on your tongue, humming around his thick digits.

“Christ-” his breath hitched, caught in his throat, completely transfixed by your sweet lips and how beautiful you looked when you had your mouth full.

You pulled them out of your mouth with a pop, lips twitching up when you caught sight of his open mouth.

“There you go, Stevie-” you were so fucking sweet, “all cleaned up.”

Any more and I’ll blow my fucking load, he thought, trying to slow his breath and compose himself, thumb tracing back and forth along the pudge of your cheek while you smiled all gooey and soft down at him.

“Didn’t think you were such a dirty girl,” he hummed, stroking his knuckles along your chin and down your neck, resting along your collarbone before his fingers wrapped loosely around your throat, bringing you forward in his hold and pressing your lips together.

The kiss was messy, full of tongue and spit, pulling back to suckle on lips and teeth clashing when you tried to get closer— you had been waiting for this, dreaming about it, just like Steve had. Fuck, you didn’t have enough fingers to count how many times you had touched yourself over the thought of him, getting all worked up if he was even in the same room as you, always fighting so hard to excuse yourself and fuck yourself knuckle-deep in their family bathroom.

And when you were walking along the landing, completely minding your own business, just wanting a glass of water from downstairs, you could hear him. Whining and moaning and crying out— the slick sounds of him fucking his fist making your mind all fuzzy and you were sure you’d started to drool, so naturally, you made your way into his room.

Fuck, I’m such a perv, you thought.

Maybe you and Steve were a lot more alike than you thought.

“Come sit in my lap, honey-” you wasted no time, pussy gushing at the rasp of his voice, rumbling throughout his chest and letting a moan slip once you scrambled up into his lap, already rutting down onto his hardness, letting your breath hitch when he kneaded the soft, doughy globes of your ass. “There you go- such a needy little thing, hm?”

You keened at his touch, sighing into the air when his mouth attached to your neck, suckling at the delicate skin, leaving little bite marks before swiping his tongue over them.

“Shit,” he muttered through kisses, mouth back on yours, still hot and sloppy, pulling back between words just to connect the two of you again. “what about Tiff?”

“She passed out a little while ago-” you whined, his fingers dipping under the elastic of your shorts and slipping beneath your underwear, middle finger running up the length of your slit, feeling how wet you were, how wet he had made you. “just want you, Steve.”

“Yeah? You wanna get fucked by your best friend’s brother—” he smirked up at you, “she’s only behind that wall, honey, and you’re still so desperate f’me.”

He used his other fingers to spread your folds apart, dipping a finger into your hole, collecting the wetness there to lube up the peak of your clit, pressing down so deliciously and rolling it between his fingers.

“So wet f’me, too,” he hummed, pressing a chaste little kiss to your flushed cheek, “can’t wait to eat this pretty pussy, bet you taste so sweet, honey.”

Your eyes began to roll back, whining at his crude words and the thought of those pretty lips of his wrapped around your clit, just suckling and licking and eating you like you were his last fucking meal.

But that was for later— he’d have his head between your thighs for as long as you’d let him, though he couldn’t resist the ache of his cock, so hard he thought he would pop and he had only came merely minutes before.

“You like the sound of that, sweet girl? Once I’m done fucking you, you can have whatever you like, how does that sound?”

You were nodding furiously, all cock-drunk and dumb, pouting at him with glistening eyes, tears starting to ebb over your waterline.

He tugged at the neckline of your top, pulling it down so the weight of your tits popped out of the material, on display for him to marvel at, nipples stiff, mouth-wateringly so.

“Been hidin’ these from me, honey-” he clicked his tongue, cupping them in his big hands and thumbing over your pebbled nipples. “how could you keep these pretty things all to yourself, hm?”

Any chance of you answering his question was out the window as soon as his lips puckered around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it before pulling away with an obscene pop.

“Oh, Stevie!” You crooned, taking a fistful of his hair, tangling your fingers into the strands and tugging at the roots, earning a few whines from him as a response. “they’re all yours— all f’you.”

He hummed at that, sponging little kisses along the valley of your tits, lips so slick and messy, you had to pull his face away he was that desperate to have your tits in his mouth.

“Stevie, come on,” you whined, pressing your mouth to his, but pulling away promptly— pout ever prominent. “Want you to fuck me.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He cooed, “gotta be patient f’me though, honey, or I won’t give you what you want.”

Steve pushed at your hips— up, up, up, he had said, helping you stand while his fingers hooked under your shorts and panties, pulling them down the thickness of your thighs and having you kick them off to the side. He made a mental note to keep them panties for later, y’know, for scientific reasons…

“Oh look at her-” he was cooing at you, almost mockingly, cupping your hot pussy and feeling you drip onto his palm. “She loves me already, honey— such a pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

You were growing restless, antsy on your feet, thighs squeezing around his wrist and clawing at his shoulders, a small Stevie, please, falling from your puffy lips, and he couldn’t deny that pretty face even if he tried.

“On the bed, baby,” he shuffled on the mattress, kneeling now, watching while you climbed onto the bed, “hands and knees- that’s it, you know what to do- such a good girl.”

You settled yourself, sinking down so your face was smushed against his pillows, your ass in the air, wiggling up at him, so eager for his cock to split you open.

His boxers were pushed to his thighs, cock hard, achingly so, his pre-cum dripping in long, silvery lines and smearing along your pussy lips when he swiped his head against you.

“Look at that, pussy’s fuckin’ drooling,” his tip swiped along your folds, nudging against your clit with every pass over and you had to bite at his pillow to stop yourself from crying out. “how bad d’you want it, sweet girl?”

“So bad, Stevie!” You whined, eyes practically rolling to the back of your skull, “want your big cock inside me- want you to stretch me out and fill me up so good!”

“Filthy girl.” He didn’t waste any time, pushing into your slick entrance, slowly inching in, feeling you stretch so deliciously around him— barely going halfway before deciding that was all you could take for now.

“S-so big,” you cried, squeezing around him and gasping breathily when he grabbed at your ass to steady you.

“Fuck- stop squeezin’ me, honey, or I’ll fucking cum.”

If you weren’t so delirious, you would’ve laughed— you probably would’ve called him pathetic, though you were sure that you were just the same.

The two of you took a breather for a minute or so, basking in the warmth of his cock inside you, filling you up to the brim, his chest pressed tightly against your back now, the course dark hairs on his chest tickling at your skin.

“Move.” Your whine was more than enough to have him pull out all the way to the tip, just to push back inside again, being careful not to give you too much— he was so big after all, so long and incredibly thick, it would be a long while of you getting used to him to take everything he endowed.

Back and forth, back and forth, thrusts so hard and reaching the deepest spots, nudging at your g-spot and causing your toes to curl— his shaky breaths fanned along your neck, lips against your ear while he let out those cute little moans.

“Shit- that’s it-” he gasped, “can feel me in your fucking guts, huh, baby?”

You were crying out, tears streaming down your puffy cheeks and soiling his pillows, meeting his thrusts as you bounced back onto his cock.

“Not gonna-” you stuttered, sobbing into the sheets at a hard jab of his cock, “can’t-”

“What is it, honey? Use your words like a big girl.”

Fuck, how could you when he was fucking you so good, practically in your stomach— you were dripping all over him, a creamy ring of your arousal around the base of his cock, and you knew that coil in your belly would snap soon.

“Not gonna last,” you sighed, “gonna cum.”

“Atta girl,” he smacked a kiss to your sweaty cheek, “cum f’me, sweet girl. Soak my fuckin’ cock.”

It was a flurry of stars and swirly sparkles when you came, flooding your irises and clouding your vision for a short while, unable to think nor see, just feel— his fat cock still pistoned inside you, and your clenching walls had his hips stuttering and his breath all heavy and hot in your ear.

“Shit— you’re creamin’ me, honey-” you felt so filthy in the best way, arching your back even further if it was even possible, craning your neck to the side to connect your mouths together, kissing and licking into his mouth, anything to muffle your moans and sharp whines— you just hoped Tiffany would stay in that deep slumber of hers.

You could feel him throbbing, stomach muscles tensing, his thrusts starting to falter and turn sloppy.

“Steve—” you kept kissing him, eyes rolling at the overstimulation, cunt completely abused and raw, though you couldn’t help the swelling of another orgasm. “Want— want your cum.”

“Christ, you can’t just say something like that,” he whined, thinking back to when he had his cock in his fist, daydreaming about you all round and full with his babies.

“I mean it, Stevie— want you to fill me up, just cum f’me, please!” The ruts he made had fastened in pace, the weight of him heavy against your back, the feeling so delicious it made your clit start to tingle again.

“Yeah, my good girl— gonna cum, fill this pussy up— make sure we don’t waste a drop, gotta make sure it takes- shit, sweetheart!” Steve was babbling, sweat dripping down his forehead and causing his hair to stick, chasing his orgasm, and after already cumming once before not too long ago, he knew it was gonna be powerful.

He spilled into you with a drawn out moan, slowing down and breathing heavier than before, thick ropes of cum painting your insides, and filling you with an endless warmth.

Steve pulled back to watch his cum dribble from around his cock, before slipping out of you, just to push back inside again, over-sensitive and quivering, making sure he stuck to his word and every drop of cum was pushed back inside you.

There was a little voice in the back of his mind, wondering what it’d be like if you did get pregnant— what would Tiff say? Shit, he couldn’t think about that, not while he was still inside you.

He felt you shift underneath him, pressing himself against your back again, sponging soft, chaste kisses to the back of your neck.

“What is it, honey?”

“Don’t want you to pull out yet.” He could tell how delirious you were, still dumb and drunk on his cock, mind all fuzzy and in a subby haze. “Want you to stay inside.”

“Alright, greedy girl,” he teased, “can stay here as long as you like.”

˖ ࣪⭑

tagging <3–

@mp0788 @angel-jz @mxrggo @palmtreesx3 @xyzstar @hornyhornyhimbos @lilyhw1 @billlosver @gabessock @siouxiesiouxtryhard @poppinmyshitatchillis @music-1d-luva @leouish @harrington-lover @freak-of-hawkins @br66klynbaby @peepoogf @aurora-austen @nyfeeer @siriuslysmoking

(some blogs i weren’t able to tag, sorry about that <33)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #best friend’s brother!steve x reader #best friend’s brother!steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic

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